Missouri was terminated, the long self-sacrifice of half a generation was over, and the end rhymed full with the beginning. Nevertheless, his interest in the University and his benevolence towards the devotees of learning were yet to receive one further conspicuous illustration: his last will and testament devised the sum of six thousand dollars as a foundation for six junior scholarships. A most wise benefaction! the first step bold and long towards the establishment of a system of scholarships and fellowships whose incessant function it shall be to attract, to select, to stimulate, and to recompense the highest moral character and the finest intellectual ability. throughout the State, and to direct them along paths of useful and distinguished achievement. Is it possible that all the wealthy citizens of Missouri, compared with the riches of many of whom the whole estate of Rollins was inconsiderable, will let this precedent go by unnoticed or disregarded? In the single city of St. Joseph, a distant third in the State, it is said there are thirty millionaires. The whole number in our commonwealth is to be reckoned by the hundred. The sum of eight or ten thousand dollars donated to found a fellowship could never be missed by any of these; it would not entail the slightest sacrifice on the donor. Yet it would transmit his name in honor and grateful remembrance to remotest posterity, it would open a slender but pure, clear-flowing, and exhaustless fount of perennial blessing for his countrymen and for the world at large. Can it be that no one of all these is willing to purchase immortality when thus offered in auction to the lowest bidder? Six such fellowships established at Columbia would endow the University with untold strength and fix the gaze of the noblest youth in the State upon her. But if no citizen is shrewd enough to choose this short, open, and flowery road to glory, surely the larger vision of the State should see it, nor hesitate any longer to follow it.

The kindly hope with which Gov. Marmaduke closed his letter was not destined to pass into fulfilment. Neither release from all public and even private cares, nor the pious solicitude of a devoted family circle could avail to arrest the quickened pace of decay in a frame long since due of scriptural right to the tomb. A mild paresis now began to show itself, the sure messenger of death. Softly, incessantly, the fatal film kept weaving itself over his faculties. It was the sun setting amid the mists of evening. Again and again his

powerful nature would reassert itself, and through some transient rift the native splendor would flash forth a stream of its old-time rays. But again the rift would close and the haze grow deeper and denser. At last, on the 9th of January, 1888, the mighty disk, shorn of its beams and immersed from human vision, arose on another shore. No sudden shock of regret ran through the community, as when some greater light is suddenly eclipsed; the gentle approach of the dusk had kindly reconciled the eyes even of intimate friends, and the volume of his life was full with its six and seventy pages. But everywhere throughout the State, the texture of whose history was so deeply colored by the thread of his life, there fell for the moment the awful sense of mystery, with its brooding stillness, upon the feverous surface of our life, and with one voice the press and the people echoed in endless variety of phrase the common sentiment:

Render thanks to the Giver, Missouri, for thy son.

The obsequies, simple and solemn, were begun in the only worthy and appropriate place, the spacious chapel of the State University. There the funeral oration was pronounced by the Rev. R. S. Campbell; the career of the deceased was sketched, its significance appraised, and its lessons enforced, by the eloquence of the Rev. W. Pope Yeaman; while the resolutions of the Faculty were read and supplemented with remarks by the President, Dr. Laws. Thence the long funeral procession took up its march to the Columbia cemetery, where now beneath a granite monument, simple in sculpture, modest in proportions, impressive in solidity, reposes whatever was mortal of James Sidney Rollins.

THE MAN.

IN person the subject of this memorial was tall and commanding. His frame was well proportioned, neither slender nor inclined to fullness. Lithe, but compact and firmly knit in all its members, it lent itself freely to the service of his soul, enduring arduous and unremittent exertion with patience. His facial features were boldly and cleanly cut, the nose, slightly aquiline, bespeaking a Roman energy, set between deep and penetrating eyes of iron-gray, beneath a brow broad and full, and a forehead heaved dome-like upward;

the hair dark brown, abundant, and vigorous, while the lower face was muffled in a beard worn full, long, and heavy. He never disdained the elegancies of toilet, while his knightly bearing and gracious address were such as might well have beseemed some courtier in the days of romance. But this gentle gallantry was far from being merely formal or superficial. It was a part of his nature, and struck its roots into his heart; hence it was that the native nobility of his carriage was matched by the genuine benignity of his countenance. Altogether his presence was a striking one, and would have been noted in any assemblage, social or political, as distingué and conspicuous. Whoever now would delineate the spiritual being that wore such a garment of flesh must recall instinctively the deep-thoughted lines of Spenser:

Of the Soul the body form doth take,
For soul is form and doth the body make.

If it were possible indeed to freight the terms already used with psychic as well as physical import, the work of description might be accounted well-nigh done. Certainly the reader needs scarcely to be told that the mental figure of Rollins was high and grand. Perhaps of all qualities it is largeness that is most habitually present in his plans, ideas, sentiments, and predilections. His sense of size, his love of magnitude, found one of its many expressions in the house that he built for his home, remote from town, with its wide sweep of lawn about it, with its spacious halls, its generous parlors, its commodious chambers. It was the greatness of the public interest that not only drew him into political life with irresistible attraction, but also determined his party preferences and selected his political hobbies by its subtile persuasion. The University, national aid to education, the professional training of teachers, the Pacific Railroad, the development of commerce by water from Gulf to Lakes, from mountain to ocean - all these his favorites were grand conceptions, and it was the very vastness of the Union that made him love it and worship it and resent its attempted disruption. This largeness of ideas was not to be reckoned in one but in every dimension; they were broad in their scope, high in their aim, deep-reaching in their effects on future generations. By a peculiar operation of the law of recompense, this quality of his mind did not fail to avenge itself amply in his history. It disqualified him in great measure for

the exalted position of party leader, for which he was otherwise fitted and to which he not unjustly aspired. It disposed him unduly to compromise and conciliation, it tempered the fervor of his party enthusiasm, it relaxed the bonds of his party allegiance. But the gifts of God are without amendment: as they are offered, so they must be received.

Not only, however, was the mind of Rollins a large one; it was agile and flexible as well. Without any strong inherent bent or determination, it obeyed readily the bridle of the will and was easily guided along this path or that. In the forum, on the hustings, before a jury, conducting a political canvass, or administering the affairs of a university, raising a subscription, or urging a statute, pleading for the Union or for internal improvement or for higher education, executing difficult public trusts, or building up a handsome private fortune, Rollins was equally at home, nimble, sagacious, indefatigable, above all, however, efficient. Such a many-sided talent has its own reward and exacts its own penalty; it is the foe of genius, but the friend of usefulness; it offers a prize in the pankration but withholds it in each of the individual contests. It was wholly fortunate, however, for his happiness, for the serenity of his temper, for the freshness and cheerfulness of his spirit, that his sympathies were so wide and his interests so various; that disappointment of one kind was continually relieved by fruition of another; that success in business should still assuage the bitterness of defeat in politics.

Such a habit of mind and body was, of course, fitted especially to a life not of thought but of action; its enduring products are not books but institutions. Nevertheless, in one direction, that of oratory, Major Rollins approached a more purely intellectual triumph. His eloquence must not indeed be judged by too severe a standard. Not to go beyond the borders of our own country, it was not the chaste and polished rhetoric of Everett, just in matter, elegant in diction, and rich in classic aroma; nor the rhythmic prose of Prentiss, florid with tropic luxuriance of adjective and simile; nor the strenuous and pitiless dialectic of Calhoun, direct and cogent, earnest and forcible, a naked athlete, all nerve and bone and sinew; nor yet again the profound and lofty argumentation of Webster, majestic in sweep and resistless like the rush of a planet — after none of these was it modeled. It was a popular oratory in the

fashion of Clay's, a pot-pourri of plausible reasoning and vehement declamation, of earnest persuasion and passionate exhortation, of sober discussion about important public interests and forceful appeal to partisan feeling, spiced with repartee, seasoned with personalities, and flavored with frequent anecdote. Major Rollins was not, to be sure, by nature incapable of higher and austerer forms of eloquence; but these he never cultivated. The reason was not far to seek rhetoric was with him not an end but a means to convince and persuade the people. Whatever was useless to this purpose he wisely eschewed; whatever was useful he shrewdly adopted. It is as an instrument designed for a certain purpose that we must estimate his eloquence; and, so estimated, its rank is very high. Under other conditions of time and place his facile intelligence would doubtless have adopted another tongue, in the use of which practice would have given him equal proficiency. A higher, a louder, a richer, a firmer note he might have struck, but that which he did strike was the one beyond all others that woke the clearest echo in the hearts of his hearers.

But no perusal of the printed page, no matter how sympathetic, can realize except in faint image the effect of his oratory; for the personality of the speaker is wanting. It was the rich and resonant and well modulated voice, the stately grace of figure and gesture, the earnest and impassioned utterance and action, that lent half its charm to the eloquence of Rollins, that made him resistless on the hustings, and that held by the hour the rapt attention of the national House of Representatives.

When we turn now to regard the social life of the man, one supreme fact confronts us, his helpfulness towards his fellows. He was not one of that too numerous class who worship man and despise men, who dwell in exalted regions of abstract benevolence and universal philanthropy aloof from all attaint of concrete charity and specific beneficence. Seldom indeed has any community felt more powerfully than his own, more continuously, or for a longer period, if too often reluctantly and ineffectually, the impulse of a single public spirit towards higher forms of civilization. He was a true son of Athens and rejoiced with personal pride in the glory of the body politic and the upbuilding of the communal interest. Not only the University, but churches and school-houses, turnpikes and