supported Breckenridge as the only Democratic candidate who could hope to win. President Buchanan sent him to Charleston to confer with the secessionists, but with no result. The "irrepressible conflict" was at hand, and as we look back upon it, sad as were the loss of life and all the horrors of the civil war, it seems the only way by which we could have gained that great blessing, as all North and South now regard it, —the abolition of slavery.
After the war began, Mr. Cushing offered his services to his country, as he had before done in the Mexican war, but Governor Andrew for reasons satisfactory to himself declined them. But Mr. Cushing never knew what it was to be idle, and his time was fully occupied in important cases, as one of the recognized leaders of the American Bar. The different departments at Washington largely demanded his valuable services, and not a few high officials received credit to which he was entitled for able papers and opinions.
In 1866 Mr. Cushing was appointed one of three commissioners to codify the laws of Congress, and in 1868 was sent to Bogota, in consequence of a diplomatic difficulty. General Grant, whose friendship for him and confidence in him are well known, appointed him, in 1872, one of the counsel to settle the Alabama claims at the Geneva conference, and the favorable results to American interests were largely due to his efforts. He could speak French fluently, the language of the conference.
In 1873, when the Senate had refused to confirm Williams as Chief-Justice on the ground of incompetence, General Grant nominated Mr. Cushing, remarking, as was said, that he would nominate one whose knowledge and ability they could not question. The nomination was withdrawn, how ever, through the efforts of a son of Newburyport, now deceased. In 1874 he was nominated and confirmed as our minister to Spain, where our relations then required a representative of peculiar fitness, and he remained there till 1877. This was his last public position, the remaining years of his life being devoted to his profession.
Until the last there seemed to be no mental decay, though it was perceived that he was losing physically that power of endurance that had ever been so remarkable. When he became conscious of disease, he consulted a physician, and studied medical books, to learn all about his case, as had been his custom on every subject. Realizing how little could be done, he prepared calmly for the end. To one who asked about his health he replied, "I have what I have never had before, seventy-nine years." He talked but little about himself, and preferred to be alone. A little before he died, he requested his friends to leave him, which they did, supposing he wished to sleep; and when they again entered his room he had passed away. He died Jan. 2, 1879. Time had been very gentle with his external appearance, and he was a handsome man to the last. As he lay in his casket at the funeral, dressed as in life, with the sword he had worn in the Mexican war by his side, his face was as calm and natural as if in sleep; and as I gazed at him, I could but wonder what had become of all those vast acquisitions of knowledge that had been stored in that great brain, now so cold and lifeless. Many of his old friends were there to pay their last token of respect to his memory, among whom was General Butler, who gazed long on the remains of his old friend.
This condensed abstract of his life—for to speak in detail of his different official acts and the prominent legal cases in which he was counsel would require a volume, in stead of the limited space of a magazine article — shows that but few Americans ever filled so many and so distinguished positions. That he was one of the most learned men the country has ever produced cannot be doubted, — learned not as most men are in one branch, nor in a few, but in almost every department of knowledge; and in nothing was he superficial.
One of his most marked traits was his
