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Benjamin Paul Blood, who gave to Amsterdam a distinction far superior, in the realm of the intellect, to that which it has won by its teeming industries, lived life to the full, during his eighty-six years, and savored it as few men do. "A healthy mystic," as he has been described, his health was of both the body and the mind. He knew little or nothing of illness until shortly before he died; his physical strength was unusual in youth and still notable in advanced age. His mind, reaching afar, in consideration of the why and wherefore, the problem of existence, had a tenacious grip and marvelous power of concentration. Wherever he ranged, in the maze of philosophical speculation, he never became confused; he always knew his way back. He never lost touch with earth and with the common things of life. He knew ordinary men and their ways; he enjoyed mingling with them and drawing them out. He loved to follow their mental processes and go on where they left off; he glimpsed the goal which was hidden from their vision. Their crudities, weaknesses and limitations appealed, doubtless, to his sense of humor, but drew from him no scorn, for he believed, in his inmost soul, that despite the esteem in which his mental powers were generally held, he was not so much beyond the crowd after all. To him had been said, as to every one else: "Thus far shalt thou go and no farther." farther." With apparent relief,