what in public life. My political convictions differed from the convictions of our deceased friend. I am glad to say here, that however much they differed, though we were not intimate, yet our personal relations were always friendly. And, sir, I will say here, and I ask for no higher eulogium upon myself either from political foe or personal friend, that whatever William A. Buckingham did in the line of his duty, he did it in all heart and in all honesty. If there were differences of opinion between him and some of his fellow-citizens those differences to-day are cast into the great lumber-room of the past and are forgotten. He was a gentleman, a kindly gentleman, and blessed with large wealth, he showered it upon the needy. True to his friends, true to his convictions, true to those great principles which should govern us all, he went down to the grave an honest man. Noble heart, farewell! Pure, gentle spirit, fare thee well! "The earth which bears thee dead bears not alive a truer gentleman."

But the tributes of some of the older Senators, and such as had had more experience in Congressional statesmanship, and especially had shared with him the anxieties of the war, come back to us full of meaning, and rich in affection. Senator Pratt of Indiana says:

I met him first in this chamber nearly six years ago, and while many of his associates may lay claim to a greater intimacy than I enjoyed, no one, I feel sure, more sincerely mourns his loss. With perfect truth I can say, that in all the acquaintances I have formed with public men since coming to this Capitol, no one has impressed me more strongly as being thoroughly conscientious and honest in his public and private life than Mr. Buckingham.

He was a statesman in the best sense of the term. What makes a statesman? Not knowledge alone, however wide, deep, varied and all-comprehensive; not mere quickness of apprehension to detect the latent fallacy in argument or proposition; not large experience with men and subjects in the legislative forum, nor familiarity with parliamentary rules; it does not consist alone in great powers of debate. All these may co-exist, and yet something be wanting to complete our beau ideal of the statesman. What is the lack? What is still wanting? I reply, perfect integrity, broad philanthropy, and an ardent patriotisin, which, discarding selfish aims and local benefits, seek to elevate the whole people, to make them wiser and better, and to promote their material welfare.

To this highest type of statesmanship he belonged, whose memory we honor to-day. He was not a great orator, upon whose utterances men hung with bated breath. He did not mingle frequently in

debate. He did not aspire to the honor of leadership, nor was his education as comprehensive as that of many. He made no pretense to superior culture. But he possessed the practical knowledge of the affairs of the country, its varied industries and wants, its internal commerce, its growing manufactories, its vast agricultural and mineral resources, and especially that knowledge of our relations with the various Indian tribes, to which subject he gave so much of his attention as the chairman of the committee on Indian Affairs, as to eminently qualify him to be a judicious adviser in this body and to frame appropriate laws upon these subjects. Without making any pretense to the graces of oratory, he possessed the faculty of setting forth his views in a way all could understand. With this was coupled that sincerity of manner that made all men respect if they could not adopt his views.

And while dwelling upon his course in this chamber, let me allude to another matter. Debates sometimes engender heat and hasty speech. But who can forget his unvarying courtesy? Who ever saw him forget for a single moment the propriety of debate? Who ever heard fall from his lips a word calculated to offend or wound? Who ever saw his brow cloud with anger, or his face flush with sudden passion? Who ever suspected him of equivocation or double dealing? No, sir; he was the soul of truth, the embodiment of honor. In him centered the virtues which make up the Christian gentleman. *

In a similar strain, Senator Thurman of Ohio pays his tribute to his deceased associate:

MR. PRESIDENT:-I can do no more than express my high apprecia tion of the character of the deceased as it was manifested during the The Senator is often referred to as a "gentleman," a 46 Christian gentleman," and the following incident will illustrate what kind of a gentleman he was, in spirit as well as in manner: "It is told of the late Governor Buckingham, that during an important official consultation in regard to the war, an old and feeble woman dressed in simple mourning, was ushered into the room, and told her story to the sympathetic Governor. She was a widow, and her only son, who had gone as a private in the Fourteenth Connecticut regiment, had been killed in a recent action, leaving her alone with her grandson. She drew out a roll of bills from a a much-worn pocketbook and asked the Governor to take from it the value of her son's rifle and give her an order for it on his captain. John didn't have much to leave his boy besides a good name and a patriotic example,' said the old lady, 'but I want to get that rifle so that the boy can be reminded of his father while he is growing up.' The Governor was deeply affected. He refused the money and told her he should have her son's rifle if he had to go in person to the regiment to get it. After taking the necessary directions from her, he gave her his arm as she rose up to go, assisted her off the steps, and then with a courtly bow bade her goodbye, and returned to his office. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'what are our labors and sacrifices compared to hers? The daily evidence I receive of the heroism of our Connecticut women, Inspires me with confidence as nothing else could do.'"'

years he sat among us. My acquaintance with him began when he entered the Senate, and the friendly relations that soon followed were never marred by any difference of opinion, however great. I always found him polite, amiable, and ready to oblige; a noble specimen of a true gentleman. I always found him an industrious and careful legislator, distinguished by an excellent judgment and naturally inclined, I believe, to moderation. Earnest in the discharge of his duties, he was never obtrusive, never presumptuous, and never said a word calculated to inflict a wound. And hence, when he last walked from this chamber, he left no one within its walls who did not feel for him respect, kindness and esteem. A Senator of whom after years of service this can be truly said needs little more of eulogy. There is so much to creato passion, prejudice, or ill-will in the contests imposed upon us by a discharge of our duties, that he who finishes his senatorial career with the universal good will and respect of his brethren, is most surely a character that merits commemoration and honor.

Senator Howe's delicate perception of some elements of Senator Buckingham's character, and his felicitous and heart-felt representations of them, make his tribute one of the gems of this kind of literature:

MR. PRESIDENT:-I put on no sable, none of the trappings of woe, to stand by the bier of Buckingham. I recall no single trait in his oharacter, no incident in his career, to bow me with a sense of humiliation. On the contrary, the memory of all the years I knew him fills me with exultation. And then, sir, I remember with grateful pride that he was an American Senator.

I need not remind you how in these latter years calumny has emptied all its vials upon the heads of public men and upon the endeavors of public life. It has really seemed at times as if the fountains of falsehood's great deeps were broken up, and that society, which can no more be overwhelmed by floods, was to be drowned by detraction. A friend told me that when traveling along a railway in New England two years ago, she heard a fellow-traveler declare, with emphasis, his settled belief that there was not an honest man in either House of Congress. But Buckingham was then there. One incident in his life I will venture to recall, which not inaptly illustrates his enduring excellence. By command of the Senate, I was with others assigned but three years ago to aid the deceased on the investigation of alleged abuses in the customs service in New York. It was an irksome task, yet we prosecuted it for weeks. Daily we were splashed with the foul humors engendered in the glandered politics of a great city. Malice unwound a hideous web

before us, shot with a thread of fact to a shuttleful of falsehood. During the whole trial I did not once hear a censorius remark from him, or even a petulant exclamation. It was evident he was human, and that he felt. Occasionally, when the manifestations were especially spiteful, his countenance would wear that mingled expression of pain and resignation which art has so long and so vainly toiled to reproduce in some Ecce Homo; that look, half willing and half shrinking, which one fancies the shuddering Saviour wore as there broke from his lips the supplication: "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done." But the poultice of a night relieved the suffering and each succeeding day restored him to his work, showing no more trace of scars from the inflictions of the yesterdays, than the sun bore which lighted him to his work.

Mr. President, I have long felt to regret that I never heard Jenny Lind sing, that I never saw Rachel act. They must have been marvelous specimens of art. Governor Buckingham was a grand piece of nature. I shall always regret that I could not have known him in domestic life. I am persuaded that was his masterpiece. I never saw him in the presence of a child. But I partly know what he was as a father. Once he spoke to me of a daughter, and no June morning over suffused the eastern sky with a more genial radiance than that which broko over the face of the father, as he told me how good that daughter was.

Sir, I should wrong the memory of Governor Buckingham and grieve his truthful spirit-only his spirit is beyond the reach of grief-if I should neglect to bear testimony to one thing. There is in this unbelieving generation a loud, if not a large element, desperate, if not devilish, hoping nothing here and fearing nothing hereafter, which screams with derision of the Christian statesman. Standing by the grave of Governor Buckingham, I must not forget to tell the world that he was, what I have never dared pretend to be, a Christian statesman.*

While we are giving the estimates of theso Congressmen of one of their number, It may bo of Interest to know his estimate of his associates, certainly if ho had anything like the good judgment and fairness attributed to him. It is well known to his friends, that he regarded public men in that position, as greatly misunderstood, misrepresented, and suspected of what does not belong to them as a class, however criminal Individuals may be. He spoke more particularly of the Senate, as the body with which he was best acquainted, and testified to their high honor and scrupulousness in regard to legislation affecting their personal interests, and sensitiveness to the very suspicion of it. As he once said to the writer when visiting him in Washington and inquiring after his health: "Oh! I am well enough, but you know that when a man comes to Congress, and makes any money while he is bere, he has had his hands in the public treasury. And if he has lost any, he has fallen into bad habits. This last is the case with me!"

Senator Morton of Indiana was an old friend of Senator Buckingham. They had both been governors all through the war, in frequent correspondence in respect to the course to be pursued, and in perfect sympathy as to the necessity of carrying on the war to the bitter end, in spite of all peace measures and compromises. In one respect they greatly differed in their lot. Governor Buckingham always had his State at his back, while Governor Morton had to struggle with a Democratic Legislature, and the popular majority was against him in supporting the national administration by the abolition of slavery. Yet he raised a great number of troops, and carried the State successfully through the war in the support of the government. A grand old man he was, and though an invalid all through the war, and his senatorial life, no man did harder or better work for his country. His tribute to his friend was as follows:

I first met Governor Buckingham when he took his seat in this body on the 4th of March, 1869. I felt from the first that we were friends, and we were. He always expressed a deep interest in my health; his inquiries were always tender and almost from day to day. Though I had never met Governor Buckingham until that time, yet we had been in correspondence before under circumstances of a most solemn character. It was, I think, in the summer of 1862, a few weeks, perhaps a month, before the issue of the proclamation of emancipation by Mr. Lincoln, that I received a long letter from Governor Buckingham, in which he discussed the general situation of the country. It was at a gloomy period, when victory was not resting upon our arms. Toward the close of the letter he suggested the question whether the government was doing its duty in regard to the institution of slavery, and whether we could hope for ultimate victory while that institution was protected and preserved, but he expressed himself as uncertain as to whether the time had arrived when any step could be taken toward its destruction He said he had had an interview or a letter, I forget which, but recently from Governor Andrew of Massachusetts, which had led him to write me on the subject. In replying, I agreed with him upon the main suggestion of his letter, expressing the same doubt, however, as to whether the time was ripe, whether public opinion was in that condition to authorize the President