wisely not given us to know. Let us hope that he has gone up into the presence of the God of nations and of men, bearing in his hands some of the broken fetters which have fallen from the limbs of our four million emancipated bondsmen. These shall testify of his fidelity to justice and to his love of the human race.

In that great day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, I trust it may be said to him by the Father of all, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." And that this will be said, I may without presumption hope, for whatever may be the theories of men, whatever our hope for ourselves or for others in the life which never dies, let us trust that better than all our faiths, and more comprehensive than our grandest conceptions, an all-wise Creator has ordained a plan as broad as the universe, and as just as it is infinite, which will compensate in the future life every soul which has struggled and suffered for mankind in this.

own.

Mr. Speaker, there are moments in the experiences of all when we cannot convey to other hearts the emotions of our To me such a moment is the present. So many reminiscences are crowding upon me, and so many wonderful scenes in which our departed friend was an actor are passing as a panorama before me, that I feel how short I should come of doing them or him justice were I to dwell upon them. No man who loves his country and has passed through those scenes in these halls can ever forget them. When I first entered this House, ten years ago, Mr. Stevens was one of the first to take me by the hand and welcome me. From that day until the day of his death he was my friend, and often my adviser and counselor. However often I may have differed with him, as I often did, there was one question about which we never differed: the question of the necessity of the immediate and unconditional abolition of slavery. Of the practicability and justice of destroying slavery he never doubted. I am thankful that he was spared to witness the end of that indescribable villainy. I rejoice to know that as the gates of the eternal world opened up before him he was permitted to look back upon the land he loved and nowhere behold the footprints of a single slave. Because of his

unwavering fidelity to the poor bondsmen, who, in the presence of a nation of oppressors, were manacled and powerless and dumb, I came to venerate him; and because I venerated him while living, I come to-day to cast a garland upon his tomb. In this selfish world there is nothing which so strongly enlists my sympathies and so much commands my admiration as a heroic and unselfish life spent in the interests of mankind. To me it is the most touching and beautiful of all human struggles.

In espousing the cause of the slave more than forty years ago, Mr. Stevens voluntarily accepted social and political ostracism, and patiently endured the persecutions of ignorant and maddened men, for whose highest interest he was laboring. He did this without fee or hope of political reward, simply because he believed it to be right; and because he was right we shall some day see the children of the men who stoned him, gladly join hands with the liberated slave, in bearing back the stones, in the shape of blocks of whitest marble, with which to build his monument.

I do not assume to write his epitaph. In a speech delivered in this House January 13th, 1865, he said- I read from volume fifty-four of the Globe, page 266:

"I will be satisfied if my epitaph shall be written thus: 'Here lies one who never rose to any eminence, and who only courted the low ambition to have it said, that he had striven to ameliorate the condition of the poor, the lowly, the downtrodden of every race and language and color.""

The grand blows which he struck in his great battle for liberty and justice will long survive him and leave their impress upon all lands, strengthening the purpose of the toiling and struggling millions of earth. His successful life-battle should teach us the value and self-sustaining power of a life consecrated to the best interests of his country and his fellow-men.

In this impressive hour, while reviewing his heroic and unselfish acts, let us renew our vows of fidelity to the great principles which he so long, so ably and so faithfully maintained. Let us, here and now, pledge our lives anew to the cause of human liberty and human progress, resolving that no obstacle nor selfish interest shall cause us to falter, so

that when we descend to the tomb, the benedictions of mankind shall bless us, as they now bless him for whom we mourn, and it shall be said of us as it is now said of him:

"He hath not lived in vain."

After a long and stormy battle, with a record which the friends of freedom will ever cherish, full of years and crowned with honors, he—

"Has gone from this strange world of ours,

No more to gather its thorns with its flowers;
No more to linger where sunbeams must fade;
Where, on all beauty, Death's fingers are laid.
Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet;
Weary with parting and never to meet;
Weary with sowing and never to reap;
Weary with labor and welcoming sleep,
In Christ may he rest, from sorrow and sin
Happy, where earth's conflicts enter not in."

HON. JAMES M. ASHLEY'S ORATION

ON THE DEATH OF D. R. LOCKE.

A FITTING AND TOUCHING TRIBUTE TO HIS MEMORY.

FROM THE TOLEDO BLADE.

There was deep silence when the speaker, in tones reverent and low, commenced his oration at the bier of the man who had for many years been his personal and political friend.

He said: My friends, we have come together to-day to testify our respect for the living, and discharge our last tender duty to the dead.

When the shadow of a great sorrow falls upon us, we naturally turn from the darkness which surrounds us, to catch a glimpse of the coming of the first rays of morning light. So by the side of every new-made grave, our hearts gladly welcome the thought of another and better life beyond.

Without assuming to have a knowledge of the hereafter, we come reverently to lay our friend down to rest, and we do not question that, "after life's fitful fever he sleeps well."

The last time I looked upon the face of our friend, I was impressed with the belief that his life's work was finished; that his last battle had been fought, and, I doubt not, that as soon as he became conscious of this fact, he desired to depart and be at rest.

It is as natural to die as to live, and because this is true, I do not look upon death as the arch enemy of man, but rather as his friend.

When, therefore, a friend pays the last debt of nature, I

would not clothe myself in sackcloth and rebel against the divine law which has set a limit to human habitation, and said to each and all: "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."

No thoughtful man of mature years desires to live in this world of struggles and disappointments. forever. Certainly I should regard it as a mercy, if the finger of death could be laid upon each one of us the very day our life's work was done, or whenever we became helpless and hopeless, or our sufferings and sorrows outweighed the pleasures and joys of life.

If Mr. Locke could never again have entered upon the active duties of life, it was a blessing that the merciful finger of death was laid upon him, and he called to that "bourn from which no traveler returns," where we all hope sorrow, disease and death can never come.

I have no wish to magnify the virtues of my friend, nor at the expense of truth to excuse his errors. The living ought to be able to learn by the faults, not less than by the virtues of public men, and when I add that he was human and like all men "prone to err as the sparks are to fly upward," I have said all that truth and duty bid me say.

Those who did not know Mr. Locke could not understand him. This is the fate of every man of genius, and because he was not thoroughly understood, his words and acts were often sharply criticised and sometimes unsparingly condemned. That he was a man of great ability and force of character, all concede; and his intimates know that he was always true to his convictions and faithful to his friends. It is true that he did not believe in, and could not subscribe to, any of the formulated religious dogmas of our popular churches.

He often said to me: "I cannot believe in such creeds, and shall therefore neither accept nor affirm any." And then he would quote from the "Sermon on the Mount:" "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your chlidren, how much more shall your Father which is in Heaven give good things to them that ask him." With this faith, or no faith; this religion or no religion, "he wrapped the drapery of his couch about him and lay down to pleasant dreams," sincerely believing that the Power which created