His integrity was unquestioned; his knowledge of public business, phenomenal. With no brilliancy, little in the way of oratory, Judge Holman was nevertheless one of the most valuable members ever known to the House of Representatives. The Lobby regarded him as its mortal foe. He was for years the recognized "watch-dog of the Treasury." Personal appeals to his courtesy, to permit the present consideration of private bills, had, in the main, as well have been made to a marble statue. His well known and long to be remembered, "I object, Mr. Speaker," sounded the knell of many a well devised raid upon the Treasury. It may be that he sometimes prevented the early consideration of meritorious measures, but with occasional exceptions his objections were wholesome. He kept in close touch with the popular pulse, and knew, as if by instinct, which would be the safe and which the dangerous side of the pending measure. It some times seemed that he could even "look into the seeds of time and tell which grain will grow and which will not."

It has been said that even great men have at times their little weaknesses. An incident to be related will show that possibly Judge Holman was no exception to that rule. The consideration of sundry bills for the erection of post-office buildings in a number of districts having "gone over" by reason of his objection, the members having the bills in charge joined forces and lumped the several measures into an "omnibus bill" which was duly presented. The members especially interested in its passage, to "make assurance doubly sure," had quietly inserted a provision for the erection of a Government building in one of the cities of Holman's district. When the bill was read, Judge Holman, as he sat busily writing at his desk, was, without solicitation upon his part, the closely observed of every member. Apparently oblivious, however, to all that was occurring, he continued to write. No objection being made, the bill was in the very act of passing when an exceedingly bright member from Wisconsin, "being moved and instigated by the devil," no doubt, rushed to the front and exclaimed, "Mr. Speaker, I desire to call the attention of the gentleman from the fourth district of Indiana to the fact

that the Treasury is being robbed!" Unmoved by the appeal, the Judge continued to write, and, as one of his colleagues afterwards remarked, "was chewing his tobacco very fine." After a moment of suspense, and amid applause in which even the galleries took part, the member from Wisconsin, in tragic tones, exclaimed, "Ah, Mr. Speaker, our watchdog of the Treasury, like all other good watch-dogs, never barks when his friends are around!"

Mr. Blackburn, of Kentucky, began his long and eventful legislative career as a member of this Congress. As the representative of the Ashland District, he was the successor of Clay, Crittenden, Marshall, Breckenridge, Beck - illustrious names in the history of the State and of the nation. He was worthy the succession, and, at the close of ten years' service in the House, was elected to the Senate. He came within a few votes of being chosen as the candidate of his party for Speaker at the opening of the forty-sixth Congress. He was a born orator. It was as natural for him to speak as to breathe. Wake him up at any hour of the night, and he would be ready upon the instant for an eloquent speech of any length, upon any subject. Thoroughly familiar with all that pertained to our political history, with a voice easily heard above the storm, he was ever in the forefront of the hurlyburly of heated partisan debate. There was little that was conciliatory about him. He neither gave nor asked quarter. A born fighter, he had rather

"Follow his enemy through a fiery gulf,

Than flatter him in a bower."

Possessing neither the keen wit of his colleague, McKenzie, nor the profound humor of Knott, he was nevertheless the hero of more interesting narratives than any member who ever crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains.

The incident to be related may have suggested the witty reply of Senator Proctor to the Vice-President when invited by the latter to come into the devotional exercises: "Excuse me, I am paired with Blackburn on prayers." This equals his reply when asked by Senator Hale what he thought

of Senator Chandler: "I like him, but it is an acquired taste."

Upon the occasion of the retirement of the Rev. Dr. Butler from the Chaplaincy of the Senate — a position he had filled most acceptably for many years many of the Senators spoke regretfully of his retirement. The speech of Mr. Blackburn, for beauty of expression and pathetic eloquence, was unrivalled. He spoke most tenderly of the faithfulness of the venerable man of God; how for long years he had gone in and out before us; of his daily walk and conversation; how, like the Blessed Master, his only thought was of doing good; of how he had often invoked the Divine blessing upon us and our loved ones, and lifted us as it were in his arms up to the very throne of grace. The orator seemed inspired, as though his lips were indeed touched with a live coal from the altar. The counterpart of the scene that followed his closing words had never been witnessed in legislative assembly. All were in tears. It was even said that venerable Senators, who had never shed a tear since the ratification of the treaty of Ghent, actually sobbed aloud, and refused to be comforted. At length, amid silence that could be felt, an adjournment was effected, and the Senators passed sadly out to their homes. As he passed the Chair, Senator Vest, in undertone, remarked to the Vice-President, "Jo never saw him!"

The next day, in the absence of his successor, "the blind chaplain," Dr. Butler again, and for the last time, officiated, simply repeating in manner most solemn and impressive, the Lord's Prayer. At its conclusion, Senator Blackburn, who had been a most attentive listener, came forward to the desk and remarked to Vice-President Stevenson: "I tell you, sir, I like that new chaplain of ours. What a splendid prayer! There is something original about that man!"

Thirty years and more ago, when first a candidate for Congress, Mr. Blackburn attended a public execution — in common parlance "a hanging" in one of the counties of his district. Being a gentleman of great distinction, and a candidate for Congress, he was appropriately invited by the sheriff to occupy a seat with the prisoner and his spiritual

adviser upon the gallows. At the near approach of the fatal hour, the sheriff, with watch in hand, amid the sea of upturned faces, stated to the prisoner that he had yet five minutes to live, and it was his privilege if he so desired to address the audience. The prisoner meekly replied that he did not wish to speak. Whereupon Mr. Blackburn, stepping promptly to the front of the scaffold, said: "As the gentleman does not wish to speak, if he will kindly yield me his time, I will take this occasion to remark that I am a candidate for Congress, regularly nominated by the Democratic Convention," etc. This incident being told in the presence of Mr. Marshall, the opposing candidate, the latter remarked that he remembered it well, and could vouch for its truth. He then added that when Mr. Blackburn proposed to speak out the prisoner's time, the latter turned to the Sheriff and inquired who that was. To which the officer replied, "Captain Blackburn." At this the prisoner, who had amid all the exciting scenes of his arrest and trial, and even up to the present moment, with his open coffin beside him, displayed marvellous fortitude, suddenly exhibiting deep emotion, piteously exclaimed, "Please hang me first, and let him speak afterwards!"

When, in the tide of time, will the House of Representatives witness the like of "Sunset" Cox? Beginning a Congressional career, which was to terminate only with his death, when scarcely of the constitutional age, he was in close succession a representative from two great States, — in his early manhood from the Capital district of Ohio, and in his maturer years, even down to old age, the most prominent of the delegation from the great State of New York. Mr. Cox was gifted as few men have been in this world. His literary attainments were of a high order, and some of the books of which he was the author will no doubt furnish instructive and entertaining reading for many generations to come. was an indefatigable student, and seemed, as did Lord Bacon, to have "taken all knowledge for his province." His accurate knowledge of the history of all countries and times was a marvel, and, all at his instant command, placed him

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upon rare vantage ground in the many forensic struggles in which he took part. Woe betide the unfortunate antagonist whose record was other than faultless. He was a born debater, full of resources, and aggressive to the last degree. He never waited for opportunities, but sought them. In great emergencies he was often put forward by his political associates for the fierce encounter with the great leaders upon the opposite side of the Chamber. He was withal one of the most kindly of men. He was the soul of personal and official honor. His integrity could know no temptation. It may truly be said of him that

"Whatever record leaps to light,

He never can be shamed."

His sympathies were deeply enlisted for the safety of those "who go down to the sea in ships." For years he was the earnest advocate of a thorough life-saving system. Much of the present efficiency of this humane branch of the public service is due to his untiring efforts. He had travelled to all countries, and even to the islands of the sea. He was of sunny disposition, and believed that "whatever places the eye of Heaven visits are to the wise man ports and happy havens."

Mr. Cox was one of the most genial and delightful of associates. With him and Vance, Knott, and Randolph Tucker as companions for the social hour, the night would flee away like a shadow. His wit was of the rarest order. He would have been on terms of recognized kinship with Sydney Smith and Charles Lamb. He once said of a vinegar-visaged member that the only regret he had on earth was that there were no more commandments to keep; what few there were he kept so easily. As illustrating his readiness and elasticity, whatever the emergency, two instances, out of the many that crowd upon memory, will be given. During an all-night session of the House, amid great confusion, the roll-call was ordered. The first name, "Mr. Archer," was called, and the response "Aye" was given. The clerk, failing to hear the response, immediately repeated, "Mr. Archer," to which the latter, in tones heard above the din of many voices, again answered