OBITUARY 
OF 
EDWARD RHOADS, M.D. OBITUARY 
OF 
EDWARD RHOADS, M.D 
BEAD BEFORE THE COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS OF PHILADELPHIA, 
FEBRUARY 5, 1872; AND EXTRACTED FROM ITS 
TRANSACTIONS. jf 
BY 
WILLIAM PEPPER, M.D., 
FELLOW OF THE COLLEGE. / 
“Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 
Nor in the glistering foil 
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies: 
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove ; 
As he pronounces lastly on each deed, 
Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.” 
PHILADELPHIA: 
COLLINS, PRINTER, 105 JAYNE STREET. 
1872. OBITUARY OF EDWARD RHOADS, M.D. 
It is a pleasing custom of this College which provides that whenever 
death has removed one of its Fellows, an evening sacred to his memory 
should be set apart, on which we strive feebly, as by the power of words 
and thoughts we may, to recall him, and place him once more in our 
midst. 
The wheels of human life and action revolve ceaselessly, and place a 
rapidly increasing distance between us and any past event. Each day’s 
cares and activity throng the mind, and dim the images of the past that 
memory seeks to cherish, until the joy or sorrow that for the time filled 
the whole of life, seems in but a few months only the shadowy phantom 
of some far-distant experience. 
It is true, that in a life so full and overfull of thought and action as 
that of the present day, there is but little leisure left to devote to the 
contemplation of the future, and far less to spend in reflection on the 
past. Whatever the past has made us, we are ; whatever it has given to us, 
we hold and strive to make the means of securing more and more; but 
of what it has taken from us, we rarely think, but turn impatiently from 
the sorrowful reminiscences which sometimes stir in the depths of our 
being, muttering, “Let the dead Past bury its dead.” To a great extent 
this is needful, if we are to advance in our work actively and hopefully. 
But do we not often carry this too far, and in struggling manfully against 
the depression and despondency which follow a great grief, often end in 
not only throwing off these, but also in forgetting and losing much of the 
sweetness and usefulness which might always remain with us? 
I have chosen this particular evening for the presentation of this brief 
memoir, since it is within a few days of the first anniversary of the death 
of him who is its subject. 
Edward Rhoads was born in Philadelphia, on the 29th of September, 
1841. There is but little to be recorded of his early years, which were 
passed at his parents’ home. He displayed, however, even during his 
boyhood and youth, many of the characteristics which subsequently dis- 
tinguished him. His disposition was impulsive and resolute, yet tender, 
affectionate, and remarkably sympathizing. His fondness for natural 4 
objects was strong, and the natural sciences were the favorite subjects of 
his early studies. His education was conducted at his parents’ home 
until the winter of 1853, when he entered the school of the Brothers 
Smiley, in order to prepare for his collegiate course at Haverford, 
where he was admitted in 1855. He pursued his studies here with 
great success, and graduated with the first honors, in 1859, at the early 
age of eighteen. 
Passionately fond of nature, and gifted with a keen power of obser- 
vation and a most retentive memory, he acquired a considerable know- 
ledge of several branches of physical science, especially of botany. His 
love of literary pursuits was strong, and he applied himself with pleasure 
and easy success to the study of languages and belles-lettres. The range 
of his reading was really extensive, but the unusual strength of his memory 
and the happy gift which he possessed of arranging and utilizing his in- 
formation, always gave a strong impression of the extent and variety of 
his literary acquirements. His literary taste was singularly pure and ele- 
vated—he rarely indulged himself in the reading of fiction, but found his 
favorite authors among the great poets or writers upon moral or metaphysi- 
cal subjects. I have had the opportunity of reading a number of the essays 
which he wrote at Haverford College. They were, without exception, 
upon subjects of grave and serious character, and his mode of treating 
them showed an appreciation of their scope and importance, and a depth 
of thought very unusual at such an early age. One of the most marked 
features of them is the strong expressions they contain of admiration for, 
and sympathy with, heroes of a lofty type ; and in many instances the 
characters of such men as Daniel, Paul, Cato, Caesar, etc., have been 
chosen as the theme. Among the most elaborate and thoughtful of these 
early productions of his pen, were essays on “ The Trial and Condem- 
nation of Socrates” (which gained the Alumni Prize), and “ The Office 
of the Greek Drama,” which formed the subject of his Oration at the 
Senior Commencement. 
The grave tone of his mind was, however, wholly untinged with gloom. 
He possessed as keen an appreciation of genuine humor as any one I 
have ever known, and his laugh was ready, hearty, and most infectious. 
This taste never was lost, and in later years, when serious thought and 
the continued sight of suffering became oppressive, he would seek relief 
in some of the humorous works of Holmes or Lowell, both of whom were 
great favorites with him. 
Tlie traits of character which throughout life distinguished him also 
developed themselves at a very early age. I quote from a letter of one 
of his favorite teachers at College, who, after speaking of the general 
success with which he pursued his studies, adds: “ What was most striking 
in him, however, was the maturity and even balance of his mind, his 
clearness of intellect, and his soundness of judgment. Add to these a 5 
dignity and stability of character which almost amounted to a special gift 
or talent by itself.” His disposition was frank and open; his impulses 
were quick and generous, and his affections strong, tender, and deep. 
T1 iese qualities early endeared him to a wide circle of friends, and I 
much doubt whether even one of them was ever parted from him, so sin- 
gular was the truth and constancy of his own affections, and so uniform 
the thoughtfulness and consideration which marked his personal relations 
with others, while the power of his attractions and the beauty of his 
character deepened the love and increased the esteem of his friends the 
longer and more intimately they knew him. 
I should indeed do violence to my own feelings (and, I think I may 
also say, to the feelings of many who will read this sketch), if I restrained 
or weakened my language in alluding to his character as a friend. What 
words indeed can fully describe the charm, the sweetness, and the strength 
of true friendship ? the most nearly divine feeling our hearts entertain— 
the sweetest, surest solace in life—the strong cord which knits men 
together closer than brethren It were difficult to realize more fully the 
perfect form of such friendship than was to be found in the relation 
between Edward Rhoads and some few of his chosen associates. Few 
can have inspired more deep and lasting affection than they gave him ; 
none can ever have repaid it with a more rich return. 
It will easily be comprehended that such qualities would secure a high 
degree of control over his companions—and, in fact, I have heard several 
of his school-fellows and college-mates recall, after a lapse of many years, 
the powerful influence which he exerted. It was not merely the warm 
affection he inspired, the purity and elevated tone of his own character, 
and the consistency of his conduct, which produced this effect; it was 
in large amount due to his fearless and unhesitating championship of truth 
and right, and denunciation of all that was false or wicked. No false 
sense of shame or fear of ridicule would prevent him from avowing 
his own adhesion to the right, and encouraging others in the same 
course. Yet, in his intercourse with his friends, he was ever careful to 
avoid the slightest expression that could have been construed as unfavor- 
able criticism of their character or actions. Always severe in his judg- 
ment of himself, and disposed with true humility to depreciate his own 
merits or attainments, he was as constantly lenient towards others, and 
willing to praise them cordially and sincerely. The silent influence of 
such a character is of untold and incalculable force, and it diffuses around 
it an atmosphere of purity which is fatal to evil and corruption. I have 
spoken of the great purity of his character and mind, and this quality 
was presented to a singular degree by his language, which was not only 
free from the grosser blemishes, and the use of exaggerated and extrava- 
gant expressions, but was characterized by great simplicity and clearness 
of diction. 6 
Undoubtedly his early maturity of mind and gravity of character were 
further developed by the results of a severe attack of articular rheuma- 
tism from which he suffered while at college. He recovered from this ill- 
ness after a desperate struggle, but unfortunately it had been complicated 
with endocarditis, and there remained a considerable degree of mitral 
disease. It is possible that, had he been persuaded to enter upon some 
occupation involving little excitement or physical exertion, his life might 
have been longer preserved. But such a course was entirely hostile to 
his nature. Gifted with high ability, he felt himself called upon to exert 
it to the utmost in the cause of humanity, and therefore selected as the 
occupation of his life, to which he deliberately determined to consecrate 
his every power, that profession, “ than which,” as he himself said, 
“ there is but one higher and holier.” He was certainly rarely adapted 
for this pursuit, and he instantly threw himself into its study with the 
utmost enthusiasm. In fact, even in the early days of his professional 
life, it was evident that no consideration of his personal comfort, or even 
of the care and moderation enjoined upon him by the condition of his 
health, was ever to deter him from the accomplishment of his professional 
duties in the most thorough and successful manner. He matriculated at 
the University of Pennsylvania in the autumn of 1860, and graduated 
with eminent distinction in March, 1863. Immediately after graduation 
he gained, by competitive examination, the position of Resident Physician 
in the Philadelphia Hospital, and on leaving there, in April, 1864, was 
elected to the corresponding post in the Pennsylvania Hospital, where 
he passed eighteen months. During this prolonged term of Hospital 
residence, his assiduous devotion to the care of his patients was no less 
remarkable than his earnest investigation of pathology. The deep im- 
pression made by his unremitting attentions upon the sick under his 
charge, may be inferred from a little incident that occurred after his 
death. A poor young woman who had undergone amputation of the 
thigh in the hospital, and had been in his ward, came to the house where 
his remains were robed for burial, begging with sobs to be allowed to 
look once more on him who had been so kind to her in her affliction, and 
had watched night after night by her bedside. 
While holding these positions he won, as might be expected from what 
has been said, a high reputation for zeal and ability, and made many 
friends among the older members of the profession, all of whom remained 
warmly interested in him during the rest of his life. A short time be- 
fore the expiration of his term of service at the Pennsylvania Hospital, 
he was again attacked with articular rheumatism, and was desperately ill 
for many weeks. He convalesced slowly, and so soon as his strength 
permitted, went abroad in November, 1865. He spent about eight 
months travelling in Great Britain and on the continent, though most of 
his time was passed in England, where he was welcomed by the numerous friends of his father to that charming circle of English home-life into 
which strangers so rarely penetrate. 
His letters written at this time are striking evidences of the deep and 
comprehensive interest which he felt in the great social and political 
questions of the day, and they also show forcibly the powerful impres- 
sion made upon his mind by the innumerable relics of a past fraught with 
such historic interest for every American. He naturally felt a lively 
pleasure as a devoted and sincere member of the Society of Friends, in 
visiting the birthplace of that religious body, and in studying its vigorous 
growth and present prosperous condition; and yet his truly catholic 
spirit reveals itself by the impartial tone in which he frequently alludes 
to the beautiful ritual of the English Church, and to the eloquence and 
wisdom of her eminent divines. He also availed himself of the oppor- 
tunities afforded in London of following the teaching of some of the 
most distinguished British physicians, and of studying the modes of con- 
struction and arrangement of their public charitable institutions. He 
returned to Philadelphia very much improved in health, though still 
showing unmistakable evidences of serious organic disease of the heart. 
His own medical knowledge, and the accurate opinions which had been 
expressed, at his own urgent solicitation, by several eminent diagnosticians 
whom he had consulted, convinced him of his true condition, and warned 
him of the probable results of a life of unceasing activity and excitement. 
He was not of a nature which could tolerate self-deception, or veil by any 
specious arguments, based only on hopes and fears, the probable conse- 
quences of any course of action. He knew also full well that the sole 
chance, though even this was but a slim one, of prolonging his life, lay 
in the choice of some quiet, inactive pursuit. Yet he never hesitated for 
a moment, but having chosen his calling, and consecrated all his powers 
to it, he immediately resumed the pursuit of his profession with the ut- 
most devotion and energy. He soon began to receive gratifying marks 
of the confidence with which his ability and character were regarded. In 
the summer of 1866, he was elected, almost without solicitation on his 
part, one of the visiting physicians to the Philadelphia Hospital. He 
entered upon the duties of this position with the utmost zeal and enthu- 
siasm, and throughout his connection with the hospital devoted a large 
amount of time, and a larger amount of exertion than he could well afford, 
to the care of his patients and to the various measures undertaken for the 
improvement of the organization of the institution. Among other reforms 
which were introduced during the time of his connection with the hospital, 
the most important, and the one in which he took the deepest interest 
and the most active part, was in reference to a change in the mode of 
attendance on the part of the visiting staff, so as to secure constant ser- 
vice from each member of it. This plan of hospital service, although im- 
posing additional 'labor upon the visiting staff, is so manifestly desirable, 8 
both for the interests of the patient and for the purposes of thorough 
scientific study, as to immediately commend itself, and it is, as is well 
known, almost universally adopted in hospitals abroad. In America, 
however, the Philadelphia Hospital has the credit of being the first to in- 
stitute it,and put it into successful operation; and among those who were 
active in bringing about this admirable reform no one was more influential 
than Dr. Rhoads. 
He also took part in the clinical teaching of the hospital, and delivered 
weekly lectures during six months of each year; while, at the same time, 
he formed private classes for more thorough clinical instruction in the 
wards. His kindness and attention to the patients were extreme, and he 
was to many of the unfortunates who crowd the wards of that great hos- 
pital, not only a skilful physician, but a kind and sympathetic friend. 
His fondness for hospital work and the original investigations which can 
only be carried on in connection with such institutions, made him attach 
the deepest importance to his position on the staff of the Philadelphia 
Hospital. He retained this appointment until a few weeks before his 
death, when, becoming convinced of the impossibility of ever re-entering 
upon duty in its wards, he tendered his resignation. Before it became 
apparent that this step would be necessary, the interest and enthusiasm 
with which he had looked forward to a life devoted to investigating and 
teaching medical science, revealed themselves frequently and strongly in 
his conversation. 
Gifted with unusually accurate and keen powers of observation, Dr. 
Rhoads was led to devote special attention to the study of Physical 
Diagnosis, designing to devote himself more particularly to the treatment 
of diseases of the chest, and in the spring of 1870 he was chosen by the 
Faculty of the University of Pennsylvania to fill the newly-created po- 
sition of Lecturer on Physical Diagnosis. He prepared an extended 
course of Lectures upon this subject, but his rapidly increasing infirmity 
prevented him from delivering more than a small portion of them. The 
manuscript notes of his lectures which he left, show in what a compre- 
hensive and thorough manner he had proposed to treat this important 
branch of medical science. He possessed qualities which eminently fitted 
him for success as a teacher both of didactic and clinical medicine. His 
diction was fluent and clear, his choice of language elegant and exact, and 
his manner in speaking earnest and impressive, though at times it lacked 
vivacity and variety. Ilis evident sincerity and perfect truthfulness made 
his statements carry great weight, and aided the happy charm which he 
possessed of awakening in his audience an enthusiasm for truth and 
knowledge. I have never known any one whose love for exact truth in 
all matters exceeded his; and this naturally directed his thoughts strongly 
to the study of physical science, and to the experimental investigation of 
pathological questions. I allude prominently to this trait of his mind, 9 
not so much on account of any noteworthy results of his own work in 
that direction, as because it has come to be so generally believed that 
devotion to the study of the natural sciences, a high degree of confidence 
in the conclusions drawn from them, and a large faith in the solution of 
many now-baffling problems through their aid, are, if not actually incom- 
patible, at least very rarely associated, with strong personal religion, deep 
reverence, and faith. 
But here at least were found these two faiths coexistent, yet not in 
conflict. He had an ardent love for scientific investigation and a firm 
belief in the ultimate supreme development and acquisition of scientific 
truth, arid yet never for an instant hesitated to accept the well-established 
facts of physical science, lest they might be found to conflict with the 
authority of Scripture. A profound belief in the absolute supremacy of 
Divine Truth underlaid his whole nature, and he, therefore, felt that the 
highest attainment of human knowledge would be only a less and less 
imperfect expression of the Divine Idea, and that eventually all discoveries 
of science will be found to harmonize with and to be subordinate to God’s 
eternal laws. It would have been a happy thing for the world, if those 
who have occupied the position of defenders of religious truth had all 
possessed this spirit of wise toleration. There would not have been pre- 
sented, what has too often been seen, and is even now far from being ex- 
tinguished, that artificial and fictitious antagonism between the teachers 
of revealed religion and those of science, which has driven one party to 
doggedly support indefensible positions, and has often irritated the other 
into accepting the imputation of a hostility which has no real existence. 
For several years before his death his private practice increased rapidly, 
and his public positions began to bring him forward, also, as a consultant. 
His rapid success and the strong attachments which his patients formed 
for him were the result not only of his clear judgment and practical skill, 
but as well of the constant, unwearying attention and tender thoughtful- 
ness which he devoted to them. His entire self-forgetfulness and self- 
sacrifice showed themselves most forcibly in his relations with his patients, 
and although many times his own infirmities called loudly for care and 
repose, the call was unheeded, and he was ever glad “ to spend himself 
and be spent” in relieving the sufferings of others. 
He was elected a member of many of the learned and medical societies 
in this city, among which may be mentioned the Pathological Society 
(December, 1864), the College of Physicians (January, 1861), the Ameri- 
can Philosophical Society (April, 1868), and the Academy of Natural 
Sciences (May, 1868). He participated actively in the proceedings of 
these bodies, and was a frequent contributor to the two medical societies. 
He also held office in these latter, being Recording Secretary of the Col- 
lege of Physicians, and Treasurer of the Pathological Society. It will 
readily be understood that with the numerous and onerous duties devolv- 10 
ing upon him in connection with his practice and the public positions 
which he held, there was but little time to devote to literary labor. In 
addition, however, to the short papers furnished to the proceedings of 
the College of Physicians, and the Pathological Society, he aided Dr. 
J. Forsyth Meigs in the preparation of an elaborate memoir on “ The 
Morphological Changes of the Blood in Malarial Fever,” which was 
published in the Pennsxjlvania Hospital Reports, vol. i., 1868. He also 
published (id. op.), in conjunction with the writer of this memoir, the 
results of an experimental investigation into the Fluorescence of the 
tissues of the body, considered especially in connection with malarial 
diseases and the action of quinia. He also wrote many able reviews, 
which appeared in the American Journal of the Medical Sciences. His 
deep interest in religious subjects, as well as in all important social ques- 
tions, was evinced by the preparation of a number of memoirs or addresses 
on such topics, which display much thoughtful study and a wide compre- 
hensive grasp of mind. None of these articles have been published. 
His style as a writer was clear, concise, and elegant; his diction was 
remarkably pure and displayed great familiarity with the structure and 
resources of the language. It is to be regretted that he left behind him 
no original work at all worthy of his powers as an observer and author. 
That he contemplated the preparation of extensive clinical treatises, is 
evident from the valuable records which he left of observations made at 
the Philadelphia Hospital. 
But one other literary performance, or rather engagement, calls for 
mention. When, in the spring of 1870, it was determined to establish a 
semi-monthly medical journal in Philadelphia, Dr. Rhoads was unani- 
mously requested to assume its editorial management. After much 
hesitation he accepted the position, with a determination to devote him- 
self to the development of a journal which should aid in elevating the 
tone of medical literature, and should be a consistent and fearless sup- 
porter of the true interests of medical education and medical science. 
He was, however, only enabled to make the preliminary arrangements 
for the publication of The Philadelphia Medical Times, when his rapidly 
failing health compelled him to relinquish into other hands the man- 
agement of an enterprise which he could himself have conducted 
with consummate judgment and skill. His place has fortunately been 
most successfully filled by the present accomplished and talented editor; 
but the extent of the loss which the journal, while still in embryo, sus- 
tained from the death of Dr. Rhoads, can be fully appreciated only by 
those who were intimately acquainted with the rare excellence of the 
qualities which he possessed for editorial labors. 
This was the latest professional work which he was destined to under- 
take. The organic disease of the heart from which he had suffered for 
nearly ten years, had insidiously progressed. He had frequently pre- 11 
sented, during this period! from the effects of unusual exertion or fatigue, 
alarming symptoms of disturbance of the circulation ; but these admoni- 
tions were rarely heeded by him, and the call of duty usually summoned 
him back to active work ere he was sufficiently refreshed and recruited 
by repose. The sacrifices of comfort which were thus made, the actual 
suffering which was daily endured, were never made known by any word 
or sign. He advanced steadily and uncomplainingly on his chosen path 
of duty, though he well knew it must soon conduct him to his own grave. 
I well know how displeasing it would have been to him to have any com- 
mendation bestowed upon his course, and probably we are all but little 
apt to recognize the heroic courage which lies concealed rather than is 
displayed, in the quiet unobtrusive life of many a faithful toiler in the 
cause of humanity. Yet surely there is no more real heroism than that 
which impels and sustains an ardent nature, bowed down by the burden of 
physical infirmity and suffering, in a course of continued self-sacrifice and 
painful endurance, which can end only when the life is finally laid down 
for the good of others. The spring of 1870 was to Dr. Rhoads a season 
of incessant toil and anxiety. Philadelphia was visited by a grave epi- 
demic of relapsing fever, and the wards of the Philadelphia Hospital 
were crowded with hundreds of cases of the most severe form of the dis- 
ease. After exposure for two months to the concentrated contagion, he 
Contracted a mild attack of the fever in the early part of May, and, soon 
after convalescing from this, was attacked for the third time with arti- 
cular rheumatism, which was followed by a recurrence of endo-pericardi- 
tis. For several weeks his life was almost despaired of, but the violence 
of the attack finally subsided, and during August he so far improved as 
to be able to bear the journey to West Chester. This improvement was, 
however, delusive and temporary. He never became able to use any ex- 
ertion, and was never free from harassing and wearying dyspnoea. In 
October, the vigor of the heart failed rapidly, and symptoms of great 
circulatory embarrassment soon showed themselves. From that time 
until January 15, 1871, the date of his death, his strength gradually 
failed, and oedema steadily increased, towards the close becoming asso- 
ciated with intense pulmonary and gastric congestion. His sufferings 
were protracted and extreme, and yet were borne with perfect resignation 
and silence. The sympathy of his many devoted friends was always 
gratefully received, but he rather seemed, through the strength of his 
endurance, able to extend comfort and reassurance to them, than to need 
any human help to bear his affliction. In the hours most free from phy- 
sical suffering, he showed that his active interest in the welfare of his 
friends was unabated, and to the very last, even when speech was well- 
nigh impossible, he asked solicitously about every case of suffering or 
sickness which reached his ears. His intellect remained clear and active 
until a short time before his death : and after the power of conversing 12 
was lost, he passed several hours every day in listening to reading. A 
life which drew its inspiration and strength from above, had prepared 
him for receiving the most severe ordeal of physical suffering with willing 
submission, and with utter reliance that the hand which gave the blow 
was guided by Love. 
Some of the lines which he wrote after the power of utterance was 
almost lost, contained the expression of an humble hope that his strength 
might be sufficient to bear this latest, most terrible trial of his faith and 
endurance. “ The hand of God has indeed swept across my life, and all 
is changed. In the great shock I have waited, not altogether in vain, to 
realize that it is also the hand of Love. Why should anything make us 
sad but that which draws us away from our dear Saviour ; and why 
should not everything which brings us nearer to Him make us rejoice ? 
Oh, for His strength—His indwelling Spirit of strength and patience— 
that all the tempests and dark days of physical suffering may be endured, 
lived through, with something of real life, and finally triumphed over in 
Him, the conqueror of all evil—death, hell, and the grave.” Death 
finally came, gradually and peacefully at the last, and closed his sufferings 
on the 15th of January. 
His funeral was held in the Twelfth Street Meeting House, on the 18th, 
and was attended by a very large number who availed themselves of this 
last opportunity to express their love and respect for the friend they had 
lost. The various addresses and prayers which were offered, breathed 
the deep sorrow which was shared by all present, and showed, in no 
uncertain way, the rare position which Dr. Rhoads had held in the 
affection and esteem of many sections of our community. 
His remains were laid to rest in the Friends’ Southwestern Burial 
Ground, while scattering snow-flakes, fit emblems of this pure young life, 
fell into the open grave. 
Thus early closed the life of one so rich in gifts, both of mind and 
character, that a career of rare usefulness and success seemed certainly to 
await him. Measured by the standard of those achievements which win 
the world’s applause, his life may well seem imperfect ; measured by the 
standard of those acquirements which increase and advance human know- 
ledge, it may well seem to fall short; but when we measure it by a far 
higher standard, that of a consistent conformity to the highest law of our 
nature, and of uniform devotion to the noblest purposes, it cannot fail to 
elicit our admiration. The fame awarded by the world is mostly given 
only as the prize of great achievements, and hence it must always follow 
that comparatively few of the really great men can ever receive full re- 
cognition. Where one is afforded ample opportunities for exerting his 
full powers, and a long life in which to bring his work to completion, 
many are either never offered the suitable occasion, or, saddest of all, are 
stricken down in the midst of their successful efforts too early to have 13 
accomplished aught worthy of their powers. The opportunity of judging 
rightly of such lives, where capacities, not deeds, are to guide the judg- 
ment, must always be limited to the comparatively small circle of each 
one’s intimate friends. But to these the true fame and eminence of the 
man are clear and established ; they feel the deep truth of the words— 
“ The greatest gift the hero leaves his race 
Is to have been a hero,” 
and ever treasure the memory of that apparently fruitless and imperfect 
life as a proof of the lofty capacities of our nature, and as an undying type 
of true greatness. 
It is thus that we may well preserve green and unfading the memory of 
Edward Rhoads; as of one whose life was cut short before he had realized 
any of the lofty aspirations which he possessed, but who yet lived long 
enough to show us the beauty and power of a nature, ardent and intense, 
yet in rare subjection to the divine law, and of high talents and varied 
graces of character, all blended and devoted, in entire self-forgetfulness, 
to the relief of suffering and to the happiness and good of others. 
However we may mourn the early death which curtailed the influence 
and usefulness of such a life, and prevented the development and fulfilment 
of his life’s work, yet can we recognize the completeness of the nature, the 
lofty endowment of mind and heart, which stood superior to the accidents 
of time or circumstance, and placed the stamp of true greatness on this 
man. Integer vitce, scelerisque parus we might well engrave deeply and 
imperishably as his fitting motto on his tomb—but still more deeply and 
ineffaceably in our hearts.