He was a rare man, of whom it can be said that the story of his life, truthfully told, will be a eulogy, and whose death causes a void very hard to fill.
He was a true statesman, a statesman of thought and knowledge and effective energy, of conviction—in legislative, as well as in executive place, a pillar of public integrity and honor, and a builder of good government.
His political ambition reached not merely for distinguished position, but for opportunity to render useful service. He strove not merely to be something, but to do something.
He was a democrat, believing in the people, and, like Lincoln, in government of, for and by the people. But he never flattered the multitude; neither was he afraid of it.
He would rather be right than be popular. The instinctive dignity of his manhood would never stoop to the mean arts of hypocrisy.
He was a party man, but never a party slave. His supreme allegiance was always to the public good. He had the outspoken courage rather to see his party defeated than the public good suffer.
He was a leader, but such a leader as democracies most need—a leader of opinion, not a mere captain of organization.
Whether impulsive or calmly matured, whether right or wrong, his opinions were his own. They were always so transparently honest and buttressed with reasoning so thoughtful and a character so high that sincere men would differ from his conclusions not only with profound respect for him, but not seldom with mistrust of their own judgment.
His peculiar usefulness on the field of public affairs was that of a practical business man endowed with the philosophic spirit capable of grasping the relation of small to
