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I'.liKIRAI'lllCAI. SkKTCII 
 
 Resolutions adopti 
 Rksoiattions Aiiorri 
 Rkminiscknces 
 
 Ski;mon 
 
 C. (I Snow. 
 {V SiccoNi) Auiktor's Office. 
 
 lY V. S. TkEASIIRV DeI'AR'IMICNT. 
 
 A.J. I'AdsT, rh. 1). 
 
 Rev. J. K. Rankin, I). I). 
 Mrs. A. L. R. Ddfouk. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 tHE story of ;i well-spent life is its own apology for the 
 / recital. It is at once grateful to the old, in the assiu'- 
 ' ance that their trials are not in vain; and instructive 
 to the young, in the evidence that existence is not without 
 liigh and sacred i)urposes. May the few incidents of a noble 
 cn.reer, here narrated, embody welcome memories to th(^se who 
 had the good fortune to know their subject, and useful lessons 
 to those who wish to learn, from exalted examples, how to 
 live exalted lives. 
 
 Ezra Bautlett French was born at Landaff, New Hamp- 
 shire, on the 23d of September, 1810, and if ever the qualities 
 of mind and body were the transmitted wealth of successive 
 generations, the sturdy New England physique and Puritan vir- 
 tues came to him by natural inheritance. He was the fifth in 
 direct descent from Edward P^rench, one of the i)ioneer set- 
 tlers of Ijiswich, Mass., in 1636, who, four years later, re- 
 moved to Salisbury, where he died in 1674. The son and 
 grandson of this veteran subduer of the wilderness, each named 
 Samuel, and Moses, the third in descent, lived, like their pro- 
 genitor, to a g(^od old age, leaving the heritage ot their vir- 
 tues to a numerous progeny. One of the sons of Moses 
 French, named John, born in 1780, we find practising medi- 
 cine in r>ath. New Hami)shire, in early manhood, and here he 
 remained f)r nearly half a century, accpiiring a rejnitation as 
 one of the ablest i>hysicians of the Granite State. He subse- 
 (pientlv removt'd to Beloit. Wis(-onsin, where he died on the 
 
Christmas of 1876, in his ninety-fourth year, honored and 
 lamented for his talents and his virtues, and with the satisfac- 
 tion of liaving seen one of his sons elevated to one of the 
 nation's highest jjositions of trust, and occupying it with ex- 
 ceptional dignity and ability. Of seven cliildren l)orn to him, 
 Ezra Bartlett French was the eldest. 
 
 After enjoying in the schools of his nati\e State the advan- 
 tages of an academic course of instruction, young Ezra elected 
 to enter the legal profession, and began the study of law with 
 the firm of Smith & Payson, at Bath, New Hampshire. He 
 subsequently jtursued his course under the able direction of 
 Joseph Bell, one of the most eminent lawyers of the State. 
 But the temptation to "go West" was even then quite strong 
 in the minds of young New Englanders, and in 1832 we find 
 him located at Buffalo, New York, mastering his profession in 
 association with Judge Love, who afterwards became eminent 
 as the energetic partner of Millard Fillmore, and of Mr. Lord, 
 wlio sul)sequently exchanged the bar for the pulpit, and is 
 famous in Western New York as one of the most powerfiil 
 preachers of his time. Under such influences the talents of 
 young P^rench would doul)tless have developed into a fi)rensic 
 l)ower tliat would liave placed him high on the roll of honor 
 in the Empire State; l)ut lie found the climate telling on his 
 constitution, and after a year or two returned once more U) 
 the air of his native hills. At this time, the old "District 
 of Maine," recently become a State, was exhibiting all the 
 signs of a vigorous future growth; its shijtping and timber in- 
 terests were developing, and its seaboard towns rapidly filling 
 with an active and enterprising jjopulation. So the young bar- 
 rister in search of a world to conquer, disappointed of his 
 Western hopes, determined to try his fortune Eastward, and 
 ab )ut (833 went to Portland, where he spent some time in 
 the further study and prnctice of his profession in the oflice 
 of Smith cV' P>radfi)rd, well-known lawyers of that city. 
 
 b'b6A^^ 
 
Two years later he renio\eil to the town of Waldoboro', 
 where he for a short time edited the '■^Lincoln Patriot,'" and 
 then to Nobleboro', since called Damariscotta, where he final- 
 ly settled down to the practice of his profession ; and this 
 ]ilace remained his residence till he was called to the National 
 Capital in 1861. As his earnest devotion to duty and thor- 
 oughness in accomplishing the work in hand might foreshadow, 
 he soon took rank among the men of recognized ability of 
 the l)ar of Southeastern Maine. 
 
 W\\\\ a nature inclined to strong, decided, and conscientious 
 convi(^tions, and prone to enthusiastic support of whatever he 
 believed to 1)e right, it was impossible for Mr. French to 
 keej) aloof from the public discussions of the day, and he 
 soon became actively engaged in i)olitics, as an earnest advo- 
 cate of the measures of the Democratic pariy, which he be- 
 lieved to represent the true interests of the country. His abili- 
 ties were s,)jn rec>)gni/.ed ; young as he was, he became a 
 ])>)wer in the portion of the State where he resided, and in 
 1S38, when but twenty-eight years of age, and before he had 
 resided five years in the district, he was elected to the State 
 Legislature. 
 
 His strong sense of right was already beginning to chafe at 
 the course of the party he had espoused, and when, in 1S42, 
 he was sent to the State Senate, he soon gave evidence that 
 he was not to be counted among the servile jiartisans who 
 were willing to sacrifice human liberty on Southern altars; and 
 in 1845, \\dien IJenton's proposition to limit the area of slavery 
 by a meridian line through Central Texas came under discus- 
 sion, he took firm ground in its fiivor ; his bold and vigor- 
 ous denunciation of the slave power drawing upon him the 
 wrathfiil vindictiveness o{ the ultra portion of his party. 
 
 At this point we may be pardoned for stepping aside from 
 his i)ublic (^areer to touch upon an incident vitally connected 
 with the happiness of Mr. French's after life. 
 
6 
 
 It was while he was a meml)LT uf the House, that he step- 
 ped one (lay into a church at Damariscotta, which the kulies 
 of tlie village were decorating for a religious festival, under 
 the sui)erintendence of a committee of whicli he was a mem- 
 ber. The young legislator's eye, wliile watching the progress 
 of the work of transformation under the busy hands of the 
 foir laborers, found peculiar interest in noting the graceful and 
 modest bearing of one of the busiest and fairest of the throng. 
 The object of his attention, all unconscious that one so near 
 had found 
 
 "a l)riglit jiarlicular star, 
 
 And sought to call it"_his, 
 
 went on with her tasteful handiwork; but the shaft had sped. 
 Mr. French sought an introduction, and \vot)ed and won the 
 faithhil comi)ani(jn, with whom, for thirty-eight years he shared 
 the blessings of a domestic life, brightened by the constant 
 endeavor of each to increase and perpetuate the happiness ot 
 the other, and heightened in its enjoyment by a consonance 
 of tastes and sentiments, and a t'orrespondence of character, 
 rarely observable even in happy households. 
 
 Miss P.ethiah K. Hilton was a descendant <jf Governor T.rad- 
 ford, of Plymouth Colony, and was, at tlie time Mr. French 
 met iier, residing at Damariscotta. They were marrie<l in Jan- 
 uary, i8.|2, just before Mr. French entered the State Senate. 
 
 After liis service in the two branches of the legislature, Mr. 
 French was chosen, in 1845, to the im])ortant office of Secre- 
 tary of State, which he held for five years by annual re- 
 election. Under the governor's appointment, he served also 
 for some time as Bank Commissioner, proving himself, as 
 usual, an efficient and valuable servant of the commonwealth. 
 
 While in the legislature, and especially as chairman of the • 
 Senate Judiciary Committee, his efforts were mainly directed to 
 measures for advancing great public interests, rather than party 
 ends. The humanitarian was stroni^er in him than the i)oliti- 
 
cian; a circumstance that doubtless caused his ability to be 
 sometimes under-estimated by those whcj measure the greatness 
 of the legislator by the truculence of his political pugnacity. 
 To mistake the partisan for the statesman is no uncommon 
 error in our countrymen. 
 
 'I'luis, Mr. French's course shows a warm interest in meas- 
 ures tor the restriction of abuses, ])rison reform, the discourage- 
 ment of intemi)erance, the establishment of schools and diffu- 
 sion of education, rather than in mere questions of party ad- 
 vantage. His turn of mind was judicial rather than forensic, 
 and it was only wlien some ^jrinciple was at stake that he 
 caretl to come to the front ; and if the result was consonant 
 with his convictions he took little interest in mere disputation. 
 It was easy to foresee his course in the new aspect of public 
 a Hairs. 
 
 The front ot national parties was now changing; vital cjues- 
 tions of principle were rejilacing such topics of |)olicy as na- 
 tional bank, tariff, and sub-treasury; the Democratic organiza- 
 tion was diseased with the leprosy of slavery; and it accorded 
 neither with Mr. French's sterling i)atriotism, his acute sense 
 of justice, nor his sensitive humanity, to remain in affiliation 
 with that party after it had deserted its traditions, and become 
 a new engine for extending the area of slavery, catching run- 
 aways and plotting the destruction of the repul)lic. Early and 
 warmly, therefore, he espoused the cause of liberty and union, 
 and the jjarty that represented it. In the ^'American Senti- 
 nel,'" of which he was editor, the tVee-soil doctrine was strong- 
 ly advocated; and when, in 1855, the Hon. Lot M. Morrill, 
 R. I). Rice, and others undertook the organization of the free- 
 soil sentiment, Mr. French aided these compatriots in giving 
 formal e\i)ression to an embodiment of princijiles so outspoken 
 in character that it was adopted the following year by the 
 nascent Republican party, into which the free-soil movement 
 merged, as the platform for the campaign. 
 
The vt)ters of Mr. FreiK;li's district were also moving in the 
 direction of Hberty and ])r()gress; and in 1858 they testified 
 their appreciation of his efforts in behalf of freedom by choos- 
 ing him to represent them in the Thirty-sixth Congress. Here, 
 as nsual, he made his mark, as a working member of the 
 Committee on Manufactures, and more esjjecially as the New 
 England member of the Committee on the Pacific Railroad ; 
 strongly advocating the construction of the Central Pacific, 
 which he considered the only practicable jjlan, not only as a 
 bond of union between the States, but as a necessity of the 
 age and country. And in the great contest then going on in 
 the House, associated with such men as Thaddeus Stevens, 
 Henry Winter Davis, VVashburne, and Pingliam, he stood man- 
 fully by the cause he had espoused. In iiarticular, he was 
 the personal and p;)litical friend of the lamented Cilley, sup- 
 porting him steadfastly throughout his course, though he could 
 not appro\e the weakness that led to the young i)atriot's mur- 
 der at the hands of Graves. At this day we have little con- 
 ception of the task set before the champions of freedom in 
 the days wlien men like Keitt, Cobb, Toombs, and Vallandig- 
 ham, ruled the floor. ■ There were occasions when such her- 
 culean frames as that of Mr. French were more efficient than 
 rhetoric to stop the lawless conduct of the ruffian legislators. 
 The campaign of i860 arrived, and Mr. French entered 
 heart and soul into the canvass. He had the satisfaction of 
 materially assisting in the election of President Lincoln, and 
 of seeing that great ]jarty, which, as an active organizer in 
 his adopted State, he had done so much to form and pros- 
 per, come into power with a strength that foreshadowed the 
 overthrow of armed treason and its ally, slavery. 
 
 And thus it was natural, that when the new President was 
 looking for trustworthy men to fill the responsible positions 
 lately vacated by men inimical to the Union, he should not 
 overlook the talents or the services of a man like Mr. French ; 
 
to whom tlic tc-nilcr of office of Second Auditor was a grace- 
 ful acknowlcdgmcnl of national ol)ligation and personal esteem. 
 In February, 1861, Mr. French went to Washington, appointed 
 by (ruvernor Washburne. of Maine, as a representative at the 
 "Peace Conference" then held, and of which he proved him- 
 self an active and efficient member, in co-operation with men 
 like Fessenden, Boutwell, Frelinghuysen, and Revenly Johnson. 
 The inauguration followed, and in the sul)se([uent September 
 Mr. French became Second Auditor of the Treasury. 
 
 'l"he position was no sinecure, though prior to the rebellion 
 the work of this bureau was far less than is that of one of 
 its sub-divisions now, and had never been regarded as involv- 
 ing \ery arduous responsil)ilities. 
 
 l^ut, though it was easy to foresee that this bureau, which, 
 when Mr. French took charge of it, was one of the smallest 
 in the departments, carrying on its roll a clerical force of 
 but seventeen, would, under pressure of the war, greatly enlarge 
 its operations, ncj one ap])ears to have anticipated the gigantic 
 proportions to which it would swell, or the rapidity of its 
 growth. 'l"he public incredulity concerning the probable dura- 
 tion of the war, and the general ignorance of many things 
 that result from a stale of long continued hostilities on a large 
 scale, sufficiently account for this. In this incredulity and 
 ignorance Congress fully shared ; and one t)f Mr. French's 
 chief tasks lay in the necessity and difficulty of bringing that 
 body to an ade(|uate sense of the situation. The office, as 
 constituted in 181 7, and as it still substantially exists, has the 
 duty of receiving, examining, settling and tuially tiling for 
 future reference, all accounts of army paymasters, of the pay 
 and bounty of soldiers, and accounts relating to Indian affairs, 
 l)esitles a variety of miscellaneous accounts connected with army 
 business. It also settles all claims pertaining to these branches 
 of i)ul)lic service. In piping times of peace the work was 
 not very onerous, though, as said above, it was no sinecure; 
 
10 
 
 but the iinincnsc oi)cniti(>ns of the ("rovernment in time cjf 
 war made the duties of tlie office laborious, perplexing, and 
 harassing in the extreme. The numerous laws passed from 
 i86t to 1869 in regard to pay and bounty; the myriad of ac- 
 cidents iluring the contest, rendering records imperfect, or often 
 destroying them altogether; the inexperience of many officers, 
 and the ignorance of many otliers, as to the proper forms or 
 essential re([uirements of vouchers; the thousand varying regu- 
 lations of the vast recruiting service ; the necessity for ex- 
 [)edilious settlement of accounts and claims, in order to do 
 justice to an army of deserving applicants; the numerous 
 tVauds attempted by forgery, by false personation, by perjury, 
 by unworthy agents, or l)y direct rc^bbery; these are a few only 
 of the circumstances that made the conduct of the Second 
 Auditor's office i)eculiarly difficult and responsible. Another 
 circumslance added largely to the Auditor's perplexities: Con- 
 gress, as before intimated, was very slow in rising to a true 
 comprehension of the situation; and wliile the public debt was 
 being swollen by hundreds of millions to enable military oper- 
 ati>)ns to suc:ceed, that body was chary of appropriations for 
 what seemed a merely civil purpose. 'I'he consecjuence was 
 that tons upon ttjns of miscellanecjus documents accumulated on 
 the iloors of the oftice, while there was not one-fourth of the 
 force at work that was needed to examine them. It was not, 
 in fact, I ill thiee years after the war closed that the Auditor 
 was allowed a sufficient vnunber >.)( men to do the reipiired 
 work |)roperly; nor was it till 1S70 that the mass of material 
 had been reduc-ed to an amv)unt that foreshadowed the com- 
 l)letion of the task. It may easily be imagined that all this 
 time there was an intense strain upon the chief of the bureau, 
 who was not only harassed l)y the administrative details of an 
 office ein])loying, when at its maximum of forc-e in 1868, four 
 hundred and seventy-eight persons, but was i^ressed on every 
 side by Congressmen, officers, and claimants innumerable, each 
 
n 
 
 desiring that the case in which he was interested should re- 
 ( eive iniuiethate attention; while in the application of laws 
 l)assed in haste or to meet special exigencies a multitude of 
 legal jioints arose to whiih he was expected to furnish instant 
 and e(iuital)le decisions. It is said l)y some who were in the 
 office during the later period of the war that Mr. French often 
 worked sixteen hours a day, and sometimes was compelled to 
 make his signature hour after hour till thoroughly exhausted. 
 
 .An approximate idea of the wcjrk accomijlished during the 
 fu'st nine years of incumbency may be drawn from his ofhciai 
 report for 1870, where it is shown, that while, during the 
 forty-four years prior to the rebellion, there were 78,559 set- 
 tlements t)f accounts and claims, there had been, during the 
 nine years from 1861 to 1S70, the astounding number of 
 917,516 such settlements, being twelve times as many during 
 these nine years as during the previous forty-four ! 
 
 The disbursements thus auditetl amount to more than two 
 tliousaiiil millions oi^ dollars, and the accumulated documents 
 reach three hundred tons in weight; yet every dollar in\olved 
 has been eipiitably adjusted, and not one document of the 
 many millions lias been lost. In fact, in such order have the 
 papers been kept that any one re([uired may be found in five 
 minutes time. Surely, if ever a pul)lic officer might congratu- 
 lale himself on the satisfectory performance of an anluoiis duty, 
 or ever richly deserved public appreciation of his faithful and 
 successful service, Mr. French was that officer. 
 
 r>ul this long-continued anxiety and labor at last told on a 
 constitution naturally vigorous and elastic. Mr. French had for 
 a U)ng time been troubled with an asthmatic affection, but had 
 effectually sub(Uiei:l it, and in every other respect api)eared hale 
 and hearty. The sedentary habits engendered l)y official rou- 
 tine of such severe nature as he had undergone gradually pro- 
 (hiced disorders of the digestive organs and rendered him a 
 prey to ilyspepsia. 
 
12 
 
 During the last ten years of his life, the great bulk of the 
 war business having been dispatched, the duties of the office 
 l)ecaine gradually less burdensome; and it is pleasant lo re- 
 flect, that though his position was still one of large respunsi- 
 bility and care, yet he was enabled to live with comparative 
 freedom tVom anxiety, and to indulge, notwithstanding the in- 
 roads of an insidious malady, in those intellectual recreations 
 whicli his cultivated mind and compi-ehensive nature htled him 
 to enjoy. 
 
 Fond of music and the belles-lettres, he was a constant at- 
 tendant at the concert-room and at the literary clubs of the cap- 
 ital, of several of which he was a member. He was a fine 
 reader, and often exercised his faculty to entertain his friends. 
 He was enthusiastically fond of a good [)icture, and if wealth 
 proportioned to his tasle had been at his command, he would 
 have had a gallery second to none in Amerita. He was fond 
 of |)oetry, especially of such as portrays with a generous sympathy 
 the nol)le deeds or pitiable weaknesses of human nature. Robert 
 Burns, for this reason, was his fa\orite author; he ne\er tired 
 of reading or hearing the life inspired lines of that most human 
 and humane of bards. In his intercourse with his subordinates, 
 Mr. French combined the dignity oi' the true gentleman with 
 an afflibility that inviteil confidence and attracted esteem. Of 
 a nature o^ien, generous and considerate, he became the friend 
 and (-onildanl of those under his < harge, assisting them in mis- 
 fortune, and rejoicing in their success. 15ut he was himself so 
 conscientious in the discharge of duty that neglect of the public 
 service received no indulgence at his hands; and in the grad- 
 ual recUiction of his force, he took care, so far as was left to 
 him to do it, that the faithful and competent should be re- 
 tained rather than others who might be sui)ported by powerful 
 influence. This course secured him an amount of respect with 
 the administration enjoyed by few other officials. His recom- 
 mendation was usually sufficient endorsement for any desired 
 
18 
 
 (■liai\^e in the status of his office. In rehgious matters Mr. 
 French was indeiiendent in opinion, and while he professed his 
 hehef in the main doctrines of Christianity, and regularly at- 
 tended service at the C'ongregational Church, where, at his de- 
 cease, he was president of the society, he was reinignant to ex- 
 treme views, which he thought trenrhed on the exercise of that 
 l)i\ine charity which he l>elie\ed to form the basis of the deal- 
 ings of Providence with men. This, perhaps, rt-sulted tVom his 
 own benevolent nature, for he was alwa\'s foremost in works of 
 good-will to his fellows. This had led him in early life to be- 
 come a member of the Masonic fraternity, and of the onler of 
 Odd Fellows, in both of which societies he rose to high jiosi- 
 tions of trust and honor. .'\ Royal .'Vrch Cha|;)ter at 1 )amaris- 
 cotta bears his name. 
 
 No one ever knew him to refuse his aid to any person or 
 pnrjjose worthy of assistan-e when ai)peale(l to. His salary was 
 moderate, in fact, utterly inadeipiate to his service or deserts; 
 but his heart knew no touch of illiberality. 
 
 ■["he last ten years of his life were passed in the satisfac- 
 tion (_)f ha\ing acrom[)lis]ied a great work, and were so free 
 from the cares that had hitherto l)eset his path, and so full of 
 e\ idences of the confidence of his fellow-citizens and of the at- 
 tachment of his friends, that they formed, perhaps, the hapi)iest 
 period of his life; and all who knew him judged from his 
 hale and hearty ai)i)earance, his cheerful and buoyant spirits, 
 that he would probably (Outlive the century. lUit the destro)-er 
 was insidiously at work, and had obtained too firm a hold on 
 his constitution to be shaken off. In his devotion to pul)lic 
 duty he had given twenty years of his life as a sacrifice to his 
 country. 
 
 It was Mr. French's custom to spend his summer vacations at 
 the spots in his native and adopted States that he had learned 
 to love in earlier days, and he usually returned to his official 
 duties strengthened and invigorated by the bracing air of the 
 
14 
 
 Northern hills. And thus, in August, 1879, he returned to the 
 old haunts, in the hope that he might remedy the torpid ac- 
 tion of the liver, which had for some time been troubling 
 him. Though he had lost his old robustness under the wear- 
 ing cares of public duty, his health was still apparently so good 
 as to give his friends no anxiety, and it was hoped that a few 
 weeks' sojourn in New England would return him to his Wash- 
 ington circle renewed in strength and s[)irits. But the silver 
 cord was loosened; and when he came back, after a prolonged 
 al)sence, his condition was such as to excite apprehension for 
 the worst. Nevertheless, his symptoms gradually improved under 
 skilful treatment, till all were encouraged to hope for his siieody 
 restora'ion ; when, on the morning of the day preceding his 
 death, while amusing himself feeding his mocking-l)ird, of which 
 he was very fond, he was seized with a fainting fit. This was 
 (|ui(-kly followed by another, and he passed into a semi-con- 
 scious condition till evening. Then he rallied, and after convers- 
 ing with friends at his bedside, sank into a (piiet and ])eaceful 
 slumber, in which his regular and easy breathing gave no sign 
 of the ap[)r()aching end. At four o'clock in the morning i 
 was noticed that the breathing became gradually fiinter and 
 more long-drawn, and the slee]) of the body passed inW) the 
 rest that knows no waking. 
 
 Thus died, calmly and peacefully, as an infiint sinks to slum- 
 ber, on Saturday, April 24, 1S80, after three-score and ten busy 
 years, this exemplar of a useful, honored, and stainless life. It 
 was fitting that the close of a career, directed always without 
 faltering towards the highest object, and always at peace with 
 (rod and his fellow-men, should be thus serene and placid, ])ass- 
 ing by a painless and almost imperceptible waning into another 
 and higher existence. 
 
 'i"he tidings of his death spread ([uickly, and came with a 
 sudden shock to a thousand hearts, for his friends had been led 
 to think he would soon l)e among them once more. The em- 
 
15 
 
 ployees of his office, universally filled with profound sorrow for 
 tlie loss of their honored chief, assembled to give formal ex- 
 pression to their feelings, and the chiefs of the various bureaus 
 of the Treasury Department met and j)assed strong resolutions 
 of regard. The funeral ceremonies at the Congregational ("hurch, 
 ct)n<lucted by Dr. J. K. Kankin, whose elegiac discourse drew 
 general commendation for its faithful delineation of Mr. French's 
 character, were very solemn and impressive, and nothing but the 
 desire of the bereaved comi)anion of his life prevented his re- 
 ceiving the honors of a great puldic funeral. In solemn pro- 
 cession, the members of the clerical force so lately under his 
 charge accompanied his remains to the train that took them 
 northward to his old home at Damariscotta, where they received 
 the last trilnites of respect from the friends and conu-ades of 
 many years. 
 
 A deputation of his brother masons met the remains on their 
 arrival at the \illage, and escorted them to Lincoln Hall, oxer 
 which the stars and strij^es floated at half mast. For three 
 hours the people of the town poured through the hall where 
 the body lay in state, and tender and loving hands graced the 
 casket with the flowers he loved so well in life ; and the next 
 morning an imposing procession, which included the Ro)al Arch 
 C'hapter that bears his name, lodges of masons, not only of Da- 
 mariscotta, but from Wiscasset, where, in 1S50, he first became 
 a member of the order; from Waldoboro, J>ristol, IJoothbay, 
 and other neighboring towns, bore him with sad and solemn 
 dirges to his last resting place in the village cemetery. Here 
 the Rev. C. V. Hanson, of the Baptist Church, conducted the 
 services, and the remains were then consigned to their turfy bed 
 amid the impressive ceremonies of that ancient order of which 
 he had l)een a shining light for thirty years. 
 
 And thus, amid the tears of sorrowing friends, closed his earthly 
 career. Care and responsibility, anxiety and labor, disease and 
 death, have done their worst, and left to us nothing but sad 
 yet pleasing memories of estimable traits and noble actions. 
 
Personally, Mr. French was a man that, placed at random 
 among a thousand, would have drawn instant remark. ( )ver six 
 feet in height, with weight and frame proi)ortioned to his alti- 
 tude, his splendid physiijue and uj)right carriage, no less than 
 his open, expressive ( ounlenance, and ilrm but elastic step, 
 stamped him at once as no ordinar)- man. Nor was the mind 
 within disproportioned to the frame without. While making no 
 pretention to a reputation for learning, he was an extensive 
 reader, and his well-stored intellect explored wide fields of in- 
 vestigation in almost every branch of usefiil knowledge. Socially, 
 he was most hearty in welcome, most affable in api)roach, most 
 companionable in intercourse; he knew how to combine dig- 
 nity with ease, and gentleness with strength. 
 
 Mr. French was the last of the chiefs of bureaus appointed by 
 President Limoln in the early days of the war. For eighteen 
 years he held his place, one of marked trust and responsil)ility, 
 mainly by reason of three characteristics that furnish the key to 
 his success in jjublic life: his constant willingness to sacrifice 
 his private welfare to the i)ublic good; his unremitting attention 
 to the duties of his high trust; and not least, to the utter 
 purity of his character, both as [)rivate citizen and pulilir servant. 
 Amivl the clouds of personal and i)olitical scandals that have siime- 
 what daikened the history of our times, no spot has been found 
 to tarnish his fair fame, and animosity has failed to cast a 
 shadow on his integrity or his honor. Placed in charge of an 
 office re(iuiring the clearest head, the best administrative capacity, 
 and the severest incorruptibility to manage its colossal opera- 
 tions, he completely filled its re(iuirements, and it is doublfiil 
 if the history of the world shows an e(iual instance of such able 
 conduct of so vast an accounting bureau, auditing two thousand 
 millions of dollars with correctness and precision, and with 
 justiie alike to (Tovernment and individuals. 
 
 The resolutions ])asse<l by the clerical force under his charge 
 showed with what peculiar affection he was regarded by those 
 
near to him in official life; nor can there be a higher tribute 
 to the (jualities that adorn his character than this spontaneous 
 evidence that he was able, during so long a period filled with 
 various vicissitudes, to inspire in the hearts of his subordinates 
 not respect alone, but reverence, esteem, and affection. 
 
 And so his life, devoted to high and noble interests, is 
 "rounded with a sleep." How that tall, majestic form, that 
 countenance ex[)ressing at once benignity and llrmness, that man- 
 ner so sunny and genial, that intellect so stored with lliought, 
 that great heart so full of tenderness, will be missed in the circles 
 so lately graced with l)y stately presence! AVhat scores of gifted 
 minds will lament the absence of his cultured taste, his varied 
 reading, his active co-operation in whatever was good or elevat- 
 ing 1 \\'hat charity will not mourn the loss of that ojjeu hand 
 and read)- sympathy! 
 
 liut in that narrower circle of those honored with closer inti- 
 macy, what a })all has fallen on every heart! \Vhat a shadow, 
 like that of the dark valley itself, pervades the social group to 
 which the sunshine of his presence gave light and warmth aiid 
 pleasure ! To her who for so many years has Ijeen the lo\'cd 
 companion of such noble manhood, words that offer solace seem 
 presumption; but she will know without telling what sympathy 
 goes out to her from the many who have learned to prize the 
 gentle and lo\ ing nature that has so long been the light and 
 life of so much excellence and virtue. 
 
 Let us thank Heaven that lives like his leave behind them 
 memories that brighten the existence of those that mourn ; while 
 the noble example of such a career, successful by the very sim- 
 plicity of its manly virtue, becomes a beacon to light the way 
 of future souls to lives of similar noljility, purity, and truth. 
 
P R O C E E D I N G S 
 
 MEETING AT THE SECOND AUDITOR'S OFFICE. 
 
 A meeting of the officers and clerks of the Second Auditor's 
 Office was lield in the Auditor's room, Winder liuilding, (m tlie 
 24th of April, 1880, to take action in regard to the death of 
 their chief officer, the Hon. Ezra I'.artlett Fkknch, which 
 had occurred at four o'clock on the morning of that day. 
 
 At 2:30 1'. M. the meeting was called to order hy Mr. H. 
 C. Harmon, Deputy Auditor, who, in taking the chair, referred 
 in feeling and appropriate terms to the loss sustained by the 
 general public and by themselves individually, to die intimate 
 relations sustained for many years by the deceased to many of 
 those present, and to the fitness of some formal expression of 
 the sentiments of his late subordinates, in token of their regard 
 for the memory of one who had been not less the object of 
 their personal esteem than of their official respect. 
 
 In conclusion, Mr. Harmon proposed that the heads of dixis- 
 ions select a committee to draw uj) ])roper resolutions for the 
 occasion; and on motion of Mr. H. A. Whallon, Chief of the 
 Pay and Bounty Division, Messrs. Farish, Patch, Faust, and 
 Snow were appointed to that duty, and Mr. George W. ^Valter 
 was chosen Secretary. 
 
 While the committee were prei)aring the resolutions, Mr. 
 
 Horace L. Piper, of Maine, made the following remarks: 
 
 Mr. Chau^man : If tlieve arc any persons present qualified to spealc of 
 the deceased Auditor without l)ias, I think I am one of them. I liave 
 never had any claim to be called a favorite. My relations to Mr. Frencli 
 were far more official than personal. 
 
in vain t 
 larity l)o 
 \vc migh 
 
 I) liiin. 
 re tlie 
 I almost 
 
 Notliiiig did he " to be 
 true stamp, its libei-ality 
 say of liini as Goldsmith 
 
 its or tlio 
 cliiirily li 
 
 ir f ail 1 lis 
 (igan." 
 
 t(i wean, 
 
 20 
 
 It has become a maxim to say nothing but good of the dead. We need 
 no such rule of speech to-day. Of our departed chief we may freely say 
 the whole truth ; it will be all good. 
 
 Socially he was genial in manners, interesting in conversation, full of learn- 
 ing and of wisdom. The gentler side of human nature was illustrated in 
 every day of his life. 
 
 I never knew charity to appeal 
 seen of men." And while his cl 
 verged close u])on a fault ; so that 
 says of a very worthy character : 
 
 "Careless their moi 
 ,His pity gave ere cl 
 
 "To be honest, as this world goes," says the greatest of modern poets, " is 
 to be one man picked out of ten thousand." Such a man was Ezra 1!. 
 Fi-tKNCii. I know his character. I know it from the day he was twenty-one 
 years of age. And of my own knowledge, and from all hearsay, I know it 
 to have been " of good report." 
 
 Malice could not touch him; detraction could not reach him; the pois- 
 oned arrows of slander fell bi-oken and harmless at his feet, because he was 
 girt about with the rugged mail of perfect integrity. He was not only 
 honest ; I l)elieve he was absolutely incorruptible. 
 
 Ofticially, he never, in my judgment, intentionally did an injustice. Pre- 
 tended friends may have deceived him, liis judgment may have erred, but 
 his heart was always right. Think of the thousand difficulties which beset 
 his every step, for almost twenty years of official life! I believe he always 
 did what seemed to him right. And I know that no man ever lived who 
 was more ready to rectify an error of judgment. 
 
 He was faithful himself, and he demanded the same fidelity of others. 
 Herein, many of us who are here to-day may find a reason for just pride in 
 the fact that we have been retained in our places throughout the numerous 
 changes of so many years. 
 
 I do not hesitate to say, without a shadow of (|ualification, that as an 
 officer Mr. French was true to the Government, true to claimants, and true to 
 his subordinates. 
 
 Though we could well have wished him spared yet many years, the ruth- 
 less reaper takes whomsoever he will, and we wait only a little longer for 
 our summons to the last account. Already had Mr. French reached his 
 "three score and ten;" and the Psalmist has truly said that even though the 
 years of man l:)e four score, "yet is their strength, labor and sorrow, for it is 
 soon cut off, and we fly away." 
 
 A good man has fallen; his example lives. If we follow his footsteps wc 
 shall be true men. Much as we sorrow for the dead, .we may have no fear. 
 The infinite mysteries of the future have been revealed to no human ken, 
 but whatever it may hold in store for us all, I have no shade of doubt that 
 our departed chief and friend will rea]) the good man's " recompense of 
 reward." 
 
21 
 
 •The committee then reported the following, which was adopted 
 as the expression of the meeting : 
 
 "The clerks of the Second Auditor's Office have learned with profound re- 
 gret the death of their beloved and honored chief, Ezra Uartlett French ; 
 and while leaving it to his official peers to pronounce in fitting terms the 
 eulogy so justly deserved by his long, able, and upright career as a public 
 ofiicer, they feel that it becomes them to express the sentiments of heartfelt 
 sorrow that fill them on this sad occasion, and to testify their appreciation of 
 departed worth. 
 
 " (Jur late chief was a man whose qualities of head and heart drew at 
 once the respect and affection of all who came in contact with him; and 
 this untoward event deprives us of a friend long known and loved, and 
 whose virtues challenged admiration and regard. Manly, frank, outspoken, 
 sincere and generous in character, his friendship was steady and courageous, 
 and his uniform kindness and courtesy endeared him to our hearts, while 
 his spotless integrity inspired our highest veneration. His hand and heart 
 were ever open to appeals for aid and sympathy. He possessed a mind of 
 superior force and capacity, and his administrative faculties were eminently 
 practical and effective. 
 
 " It is not alone, therefore, as a political and ofiicial associate that we 
 mourn his loss, but rather as a loved and esteemed friend, whose dignity of 
 bearing, justice of action, goodness of heart, and years of faithful service, no 
 less than his advancing years, taught us to regard him with almost filial 
 reverence and affection. 
 
 "And we do further express our heaitfelt sympathy with his stricken widow 
 and relatives, trusting that they may have the consolation of that Saviour to 
 whom he looked for strength and guidance here, and also for the ' rest that 
 remainelh to the people of God.' 
 
 "And we direct the publication of these expressions of sympathy and 
 respect, and that a copy thereof, duly engrossed^ be transmitted to the family 
 of the deceased." 
 
 On motion of Mr. H. A. Wliallon, Mr. Solomon E. Famice 
 was chosen to act as marshal at the funeral, which it was re- 
 solved to attend in a body. 
 
 On motion, the meeting, at 2:55 P. M., adjourned sine die. 
 
RkSOLMTIONS ADOl-lEl) AT THE MkETINO OF THE HeaDS O 
 
 Bureaus of the United States Treasury. 
 
 Vhc Comniittf ai)[jointc(l to draft resolutions in behalf of the 
 officers of the Treasury department u|)on the death of the Hon. 
 K. 1!. French, late Second .\uditor, beg leave to submit the 
 following: 
 
 Whereas death lias again been in our midst and taken from us tlie Hon. 
 EzKA I!. Fkkni'u, wlio for nearly nineteen years has l)een a prominent officer 
 of tliis Department, therefore 
 
 Resolved, That we, his associates, desire to express and place upon record, 
 not as a customaiy formality, but as an expression of sincere feeling, our full 
 appreciation of tlic marked intelligence, tlie sterling worth, the integrity of 
 purpose, and of tiiuse gentle and manly iiiudilies which made him l)eloved 
 by all with whom he was associated. 
 
 Kcsolvci, That we lender to his lamily (lur heartfelt sympathy in this their 
 great aftliction. 
 
 .nnory we will, in a l)ody, 
 
 Kesohtd, That as a mark of respect to 
 attend his funeral. 
 
 Resok-ed, That a copy of these resolutions be transmitted to his family, 
 and published in the local papers, and also inscribed upon the books of the 
 Department. 
 
 j. K. LTTON, 
 
 Assistant Secretary. 
 JOHN J. KNOX, 
 
 ( 'o/iipt roller of the Currency. 
 A. G. roRTER, 
 
 lurst ( 'oniptroller. 
 
 ( ommiUec 
 
 .\i'KU, 24, iSSo. 
 
R E IVI I N I S C E N C E S 
 
 HAUD IMMEMOR. 
 
 ■ Most men, wiien drawn to speak about themselves, 
 Are moved by little and little to say more 
 Than they first dream'd ; until at last they blush, 
 And can but hope to find secret excuse 
 In the self-knowledge of their auditors." 
 
 Walter Scott's Old Play 
 
 " It becomes a man, 
 To cherish memory, where he had delight, 
 For kindness is the natural birth of kindness. 
 Whose soul records not the great debt of joy. 
 Is stamped forever an ignoble man." 
 
 Sophocles : . Ija.x 
 
 It has l)ecn my good fortune to have known, in the close 
 intimacy of social life, two distinguished sons of New England, 
 who were prominent actors in the late civil war. The one, 
 Charles Sumner, in the forensic field of the Senate, occupied 
 a more conspicuous position in the public eye than the other, 
 the late Hon. El B. Fi^ench, Second Auditor of the Treasury, 
 who, in the quieter duties of an accounting officer of the Gov- 
 ernment, adjusted all the claims of the soldiers engaged in that 
 strife. Each filled an important place, and however unlike 
 their respective spheres, each faithfully discharged his duties dur- 
 ing the most critical perio 1 of our history. They were botli 
 men of mark, and both genuine sons of a Puritan ancestry. 
 Both commanded my respect, but one in an especial manner 
 awakened my love. 
 
 Early in 1868, on becoming a frecpienter of the various 
 literary clubs of the Capital, I remember well at one of these 
 
24 
 
 gatherings to have first met Mr. French. His nohle head and 
 comman(hng presence so impressed me that among friends 1 
 named him tlie Roman Senator, and the ready acceptance of 
 the term showed how well it applied to him. By the clo.se 
 of the ne.xt year we were well ac(|uainted, and I had kvarned 
 to admire the mind as well as the outward man. No literary 
 gathering seemed comj;)lete without him, and many who scarcely 
 knew him save in those occasional meetings will remember the 
 genial brightness which seemed like an atmosphere about him. 
 To those, who saw him in the warmer relations of friendly 
 intercourse, it is almost impi)ssil)le as yet to si)eak (piite calmly 
 of the l)lank which he has left. To me he was more than 
 friend — guide, counsellor — and were it not a sacred duty im- 
 posed upon me by the wish of others who loved and honored 
 him, my own heart would teach me to cherish his memory in 
 the silence which deej) sorrow always brings, but a life like 
 his is U)() rare to be kept in remembrance only by the (cw. 
 However feeble the tril)ute to himself, the inlluence of such a 
 life lielongs to the many. 
 
 The antecedents of a man <jf such indi\iduality of cdiaracter 
 as Mr. French are not without interest, and there are uses 
 for the lessons which a personal history unfolds to men of 
 high as well as of low degree. It was a favorite saying of 
 Doctor .\rnold, head-master of Rugby, who had so much to 
 do in forming the present generation of scholars and statesmen 
 of England, that every life has its lesson. Oftentimes it lies 
 far beneath the surf^ice, and is not easily discerned by the 
 casual observer, but it is there, if one have but the i)atience 
 and ])erseverance to seek it beyond the incrustation with which 
 natural temperament or artificial life has overlaid it. If I com- 
 prehend Mr. French's life, antl if I were to educe from it its 
 key-note, I would characterize it as a life in which the purely 
 personal yielded to that higher quality of which duty is the 
 supreme guide and exponent. To another pen has been as- 
 
25 
 
 signed thii task of prt'iiaring a biographical account of Mr. 
 French, anJ 1 will therefore not entrench upon the sul)ject- 
 matter which jiroperly belongs to his personal history. In the 
 early formative i)erioil of life Mr. French is rejjresented as a 
 diligent student, carrying into his academic career that same 
 conscientious attention to details of study which marketl him 
 as the eminently iiainstaking official for so many years. When 
 at the academy, I can readily imagine that he exhibited none 
 of that precocity of intellect which too frequently ends with the 
 early years of life, disai)pointing friends in their exjjectations, 
 antl transforming the jiromising youth into the spasmodic, shift- 
 less man. If, however, he showed nothing of the genius, de- 
 lighting in brilliant i)aradoxes and jeiix if espi'if, he demon- 
 strated that he was pt)ssessed of the genius of method and 
 system, which, in the long run, produces more substantial re- 
 sults than mere intellectual cleverness, divested, as it often is, 
 of all that is com[>rehensive, and great, and good. Mr. French 
 was endowed with that gift which renders all mental garniture 
 cltecliNe — the gift of methodical and patient work. He com- 
 prehended the sco[)e of every undertaking, and he had the 
 courage to carry it on to a legitimate end, despite any of the 
 adverse cir(-umstances which surrounded him. IVIilton character- 
 izes this (piality of mind as the highest philosophy: 
 
 '•To knuw 
 That whicli liclmv us lies in daily life 
 Is the prime wisdom, what is moie, is foam, 
 ( )r cinpiiness, or fond impertinence." 
 
 The transition tVom boyhood, its studies and its aspirations, 
 to manhood, with its cares and responsibilities, was gradual. 
 It was no sudden wrenching from early example and pursuit — 
 rather was it the gentle gliding of one distinct period of life 
 into another. The strength and purity of youth were the pre- 
 ludes of that fixedness of principle and that inflexible firmness 
 of purpose, which formed the substratum upon which was reared 
 
2G 
 
 the moral eiliike of Mr. French's character. Its inherent ele- 
 ments were grounded deep in the soil of early years. No 
 storm however angry, no temptation however seductive, could 
 ever successfully assail the grand strut'ture built ujjon such a 
 foundation. 'I'he ideal of youth, in short, passed into the 
 ideal of manhood without any ai)parent change. It was the 
 
 fruition of 
 
 "That awful inilcpcndcnt on tomorrow, 
 Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile." 
 
 Mr. French's jjersonal aj)pearance, to which 1 have already 
 alluded, was, as it fretiuently happens, a pretty good inde.x of 
 his t'haracter. He was a Colonial type of man, whose large 
 frame and full smooth face recalled IVumlnill's pictures of the 
 early fathers of the Republic. The contour of his face was 
 as clearly defined as a well-cut medallion. His eye, keen and 
 brilliant, exemplified the saying of Cicero — ■" Oculi, taiujiiam 
 sprcidatores, altissi))iiiiii lon/iii o/'iiiu'/iT' — and was indeed a 
 very sentinel in alertness. His face was stamped with the 
 two chief traits of character which shone in every period of 
 his life: the firniness of mind which enabled him to overcome 
 every obstacle, and the large-hearted charity to see the better 
 side of man, and to appeal to it in forming his estimate of 
 those with whom he was lirought in contact. There was a 
 frankness and a straightt\)r\vardness of countenance which in- 
 stinctively led you at once to rept)se confidence in its pos- 
 sessor. It was indeed the face of one above every sort of 
 finesse and dissimulation, antl yet it was not devoiil at times 
 of traces of deep struggle and thoughtfulness. When in re- 
 pose Mr. French's face often showeci the peculiar lines which 
 are alwa)'S indicative of conflict, of one who has known temi)ta- 
 tion, and who has conquered it. 
 
 "A vaincre sans peril on triomphe sans ijloire."* 
 
 There are few men whose whole character one can safely 
 include in a single epithet, and yet if I sought brevity in 
 
27 
 
 mental analysis, I would dcnominalc him, following the defi- 
 nition of Stewart, the genius of common sense, which, with the 
 Scotch metaphysician, means "a temper of mind that views al- 
 ways with coolness and accuracy the various circumstances of 
 situation, and receives due impressions without exaggeration 
 from peculiar habits." A man of whom this can be affirmed 
 is rarely at war with himself; there is no conflict or antag- 
 onism between the moral, the intellectual, and the spiritual, 
 but an e(iuipose of faculties, a certain roundness of the whole 
 being resembling the cloutl of the poet: 
 
 "Whicli luovt'tli altoyvllicr, if it muvc at all." 
 
 Men of this mould are always safe men. They i)ossess as 
 a mental principle such a conservation of forces that they are 
 ne\er extremists in au)' cause, for the foimdation of their 
 character forbids an)' attempt at what is impracticable or prob- 
 lematical. Without any ratiocinative process, and jjerhaps l)y 
 intuition alone, they learn, to use the striking words of 
 Zschokke, that "the first step toward wisdom and trani|uility 
 is to acknowledge the impossible, and second, not to desire 
 it." And yet such characters are not always shaped after a 
 clearly cut pre-Raphaelite type. Mr. French, while eminently 
 practical in all the affairs of lite, was to a high degree sus- 
 ceptible to the influences oi' what is Ijest in literature, in 
 nature, and in art. He loved nature with the passionate de- 
 \-otion of the poet as well as with the scrutinizing eye of the 
 painter. He comi)rehended the tranipiillizing power which re- 
 sides in the landscape, irrespective of the season of the year. 
 Flowers and birds were to him the choicest of companionship. 
 1 never knew a man who so appreciated the fellowship of in- 
 animate objects. My first visit to his apartments, now some 
 years ago, to see the collection of beautiful pictures which 
 adorned their walls, revealed this remarkable trait of character. 
 One felt that he had a real affection for these silent friends, 
 
28 
 
 who were a joy to him in days of health, and in times of 
 weariness and sickness a solace somewhat akin to tliat which 
 the early verdure of spring brings to the invalid. Mr. French 
 was a diligent student of art, and while, perhaj)s, unskilled in 
 its technique, yet he had an accurate knowledge of the laws 
 of perspective, and an eye critical as to color and costume, 
 and so rapid in seizing the details of a picture that a fiiult or 
 blemish rarely escaped him. His taste in art was unicpie. As 
 he loved the soothing influences in nature, so too, he liked 
 best in art that of which it is l)ut the counterfeit presentiment. 
 Pictures of jicasant life and of pastoral scenes were very at- 
 tractive to him. His nature was too tender, too responsive to 
 the appeals of sorrow and of pain, to take much pleasure in 
 the delineations of their kindred emotions on the canvas. He 
 loved that which was in harmony with his own heart. 
 
 ^Vhile it is comparatively easy to distinguish the artistic canon 
 which governed Mr. French's taste in the selection of pictures 
 for his own enjoyment, it is more difficult to convey in a 
 brief space an estimate of his attainments in general literature. 
 The more intimately one knew him, the more deei)ly was one 
 impressed by the extent of his acipiisitions as a literary scholar. 
 Among all the chiefs of governmental bureaus with whom I 
 have been accjuainted, I regarded Mr. French as n(.)t only their 
 peer in intellectual power, but their superior in general culture 
 and in the appreciation of the services of scholarly men in 
 the civil departments of the country. He had no sympathy 
 with that narrow spirit, now so rife at the National Capital, 
 which underrates scholarship in official station, and which the 
 ignorant, to cover up their own deficiencies, are so eager to 
 censure as an element which renders its possessors unpractical 
 civil servants. It has been said, by one who knew him well, 
 that Mr. French was not an ambitious man, and the truth of 
 the remark is eciually applicable to his social as well as to his 
 public life. He sim|)ly looked upon himself as a man fitted 
 
'29 
 
 to do his work, and it was his chief ambition to do that work 
 well, and to be in all things that appertained to it the ex- 
 emplar of those essential qualities to which all may reach who 
 enter any sphere of public duty. To this exacting service he 
 brought a well-trained mind, which spared neither time nor 
 energy in the discharge of its manifold re(piirements. The 
 prime quality in nis nature was his simplicity. Nothing could 
 destroy or corrupt it. No ex^jensive pleasures tempted him. 
 His pride was not in any form of luxury and his dignity de- 
 ])ended not upon artificial adjuncts. The display and the lesser 
 vanities of fashionable society were to him matters of absolute 
 indifference. Even in the cultured circles of the National Cap- 
 ital, in which he was for many years a leading spirit, the ab- 
 sence of pedantry and pomp was apparent in all that he did, 
 and in all that he said. Holding tenaciously to the literary 
 judgments which he had formed of books and of authors, and 
 t'ortifying the grounds up )n which he had reached his conclu- 
 sions, his modesty, in the defence of his opinions, was as 
 charming as it is rare among literary men. This sim])licity of 
 character, so at war with pretence and affectation of all kinds, 
 was supported by a reserve mental force which, when occasion 
 called it forth, was a surprise to those whose accjuaintance with 
 Mr. French had been slight. The aim of his life in its moral 
 and intellectual entirety was /<? he rather than to seem — 
 ()». y,-<,j hoKtiv ,i,,ioTos aW hvai (Jf'Xci. lu literature, as in art, he 
 had his decided preferences, and the poets who took nature as 
 their teacher and disfranchised poetry from the stilted mannerism 
 of the royal court and the fashional)le drawing-room were his 
 favorites. Worcisworth acknowledges that he gained from Burns 
 that insight into homely truths which has given to his verse 
 such an excjuisite flavor of country rather than of town life, 
 but it was Cowper who first led the muse of English poetry 
 to eschew the brick and mortar of the metropolis and make 
 her haunts amid the sylvan scenes of old England. Of this 
 
80 
 
 school of poetry, so redolent of field and of forest, of moor 
 and of down, Mr. French was an ardent lover, and to him 
 Burns was its best representative and exponent. In fact, every- 
 thing Scotch was specially dear to him. This first awakening 
 interest in Scotland, her people, her literature, and esen her 
 national airs, began in early boyhood, when he rend and re- 
 read the Waverly novels with a fascination which time ne\er 
 wholly ol)Iiterated. Well do I remember the pleasure with 
 which he would refer to the enthusiasm of those boyish days, 
 and the first serious apprehension I had in regard to his health 
 arose from the fiict that a discussion on Scotch diemes at the 
 Classical Club in the winter of 1878 failed to evoke some 
 words from him. Indeed, I had noticed during this winter 
 that he was less inclined to take part in these literary coteries 
 than usual, and no subject, however full of interest to him, 
 seemed sufficiently attractive to arouse him beyond that of a 
 patient listener. The spring of his life was broken, and in its 
 stead were sown the seeds of decay. In marked contrast with 
 this s])irit of repose, which had taken possession of him during 
 the last season in which he appeared among his old friends 
 in the clubs of the Capital, do I recall the almost lioyish de- 
 light with which he applauded the Scotch songs rendered by a 
 Highland friend in Highland costume.* And when the festiv- 
 ities of the evening were nearly ended, he rei [nested that same 
 friend fi)r Allister McAllister as a fitting close, and with what 
 zest he enjoyed the drone of the bagpipe as given in this rej)- 
 resentation of the Highland pij^er! It would be impossible, 
 in the sliort space allotted to me, to present the literary features 
 of Mr. French's character in the fulness which they deserve, 
 and I have only touched u|)on tlnwe salient points toward 
 which the lines of a pronounced individuality blended. In the 
 wide range of English letters he was (juite at home, and there 
 are few authors in its annals about whom he could not talk 
 
31 
 
 familiarly and intelligently. He had a fund of anecdote at his 
 command connected with authorship and public men which en- 
 hanced the charm of his conversation, and made him a wel- 
 come guest in every literary circle. 
 
 At the Schillerbund, under the excellent management of Pro- 
 fessor Berkau, at the Reunions of his life-long frienci, the Hon. 
 Horatio King, at Professor and Mrs. Siddons' delightful even- 
 ings with Shakespeare, at the Unity, the Classical, and the 
 Art Clubs, Mr. French was a constant and well-known visitor, 
 and his presence and zeal were potential factors in giving scope 
 and direction to these various societies for the cultivation of 
 intellectual pursuits. 
 
 Although Mr. French's nature was essentially an intellectual 
 one, yet he escaped the cliief faults, the outcome in many 
 lives, in which the purely intellectUoal predominates. He re- 
 tained a sensitiveness of disposition through an incessantly active 
 career which brought him in contact with all classes of society, 
 and which enabled him to become an exact and ready inter- 
 preter of human charac-ter. But his sensitiveness was of an 
 extraordinary kind, for instead of finding within himself the 
 object of its operations, it went forth in sorrow or in mortifi- 
 cation for others, who were devoid of any keen sense of 
 honor or of shame. It jiained him to think ill of any one, 
 and this virtue of looking at the best in men assumed some- 
 times almost the gravity of a fault: 
 
 "And yet the lit^lit that led nslray 
 Was lit^ht from lieaven." 
 
 Mr. French often closed his eyes and delil)erately refused to 
 see the meanness in the world around him. Only a pure and 
 noble soul can reach such an altitude in the ethical plane, and 
 it not infrequently brought him severe trial and expos'jd him 
 to the wiles of the crafty and the self-seeker. All po.-,iti\c 
 men, whose opinions are of any value, awaken opposition and 
 enmity. To say of a citizen of our age and country, whether 
 
in public or in private station, that he has no enemies, is 
 simply to describe a nerveless, pointless character, in whom 
 there is little mental or moral force. The rectitude of Mr. 
 French's life did not save him from the venom of the detrac- 
 tor, but the shafts which were hurled fell utterly imi)Otent in 
 their destructive mission. It ought to be recorded, tliat tliose 
 wlio attempted to tarnish his honorable tame were men irritated 
 liy their failure to use him for their own selfish pur])oses. 
 
 Out of this sensitiveness proceeded that kindred quality — a 
 wise and enlightened toleration for the opinions of others in 
 all departments of thought. There is no boast of our age 
 whicli is more vehement and pretentious than that of toleration, 
 and tliere is no more common f.iult in the civil and s(jcial 
 life of today than the converse of this assumed lil)erality of 
 thought and of action. Even in the annals of literature there 
 are only a few great writers who possess the true spirit of 
 tolerance. Indeed, the major part of mankind is exasperated 
 at indi\idualities in others, and such intolerance, if inactive, 
 is yet seen in its passive form — a lack of power to compre- 
 hend, and conse(piently a lack of sympathy in any point of 
 view otlier than its own. Men fre([uently claim t) be mis- 
 understood; but how confident are they in their ability to 
 understand others, and. how loath are they to recognize either 
 mental or moral superiority outside of themselves. In every 
 a\cnue of life, vanity, egotism, and pretence sow tlie seeds of 
 discontent and rivalry, which in their turn dwarf all true man- 
 liness among men. The clear vision to perceive men and 
 affairs as they are, has become so distorted by interest or by 
 prejudice that the virtue of toleration like the virtue of chastity 
 is a rare cpiality in tlie ethical make-up of men, especially in 
 men who have grown dogmatic by long service in official 
 station. Instead of a kindly tolerance for the views and 
 opinions of others, the public servants of the Government are 
 more prone to an exercise of, what Shakespeare so felicitously 
 
:53 
 
 calls, the insolence of office. It would be difficult to llnd a 
 more attractive picture of the relation existing between friends, 
 wholly unlike in their views of the great questions which en- 
 gage the thought of men, than that which Mr. French sus- 
 tained towards his intimates. With a heart so kindly, and a 
 sympathy so comprehensive, he gained and retained the friend- 
 ship of men of all creeds and of all parties. No words of 
 mine can better speak the toleration he manifested towards all 
 than by noting the fact diat Catholic, Protestant, and Ration- 
 alist alike were numbered among his closest friends. So con- 
 siderate was he of the feelings of others that I would hazard 
 the opinion that he never wounded the religious susceptibilities 
 of any one. Of Mr. French's views of the problems which 
 agitate Christendom, at the present day, it is not my province 
 to speak at any length. On questions of this nature there 
 was a wide gulf between us, over which neither of us could 
 pass, and when we did talk on these themes I fancy that each 
 felt as the outposts of the two opposing armies in the late 
 war during a truce. After a certain period in our accpiaintance 
 such subjects ceased, as by tacit consent, to enter into our 
 conversation. I am inclined to believe that Mr. French's 
 mind, being of a literary rather than of a speculative cast, 
 shrank from an examination of these problems which with him 
 seemed to lie within the realm of metaphysics. Hence the right 
 of free thought, or the claims of authority in matters of re- 
 ligion, never awakened more than a passing interest in him, 
 and I doubt if he ev&r considered very narrowly the logical 
 side of his own belief in the Divine order of the world. 
 It always seemed to me that he clung to the old moorings 
 of the religious foith in which the anchor of his early belief 
 was cast, rather than try the uncertain depths beyond, in which 
 perhaps all the best interests of his life might have been 
 wrecked. He accepted, in the maturity of his years, the teach- 
 ing gained in childhood, eliminating from it, however, all its 
 
rigidity, and it was his support and solace amid the deepen- 
 ing shadows of declining days. He filled up to the fullest 
 measure the last of the three golden postulates attributed to 
 St. Augustine — "/>/ omnibus cai-itas'"^ — and it is upon this side 
 of his character, the efflorescence, so to speak, of his high 
 moral worth as a man, tliat his friends now most delight to 
 dwell in recalling memories and scenes forever associated with 
 his name. We, who honor him in death as in life, can say 
 with the Thane of Scotland, in Macbeth, that our 
 
 "Cause of sorrow 
 Must not be measur'd by his wortli, for then 
 It lialh no end." 
 
 It would be beyond the scope of these k\v pages to enter 
 into any review of the political principles to whicli Mr. French 
 was attached, and even if space permitted, 1 should be dis- 
 inclined, amid the perturbations of the times, to awaken any 
 partisan thought in connection with him, who has passed into 
 the serenity of that cloudless life, wherein dwells eternal peace 
 for all who receive the approval of the Divine Beneficence : 
 
 "I'cnce is God's direct assurance 
 To the souls that win release 
 I'"rom this world of hard endurance — - 
 Peace, lie tells us, only I'eace. 
 
 "To this life's intjuiring traveller, 
 Peace of knowledge of all good ; 
 To the anxious Iruth-unraveller, 
 Peace of wisdom understood. 
 
 "To the lover, full fruition 
 Of an unexhausted joy; 
 To the warrior, crowned aml)ition 
 With no envy's liase alloy. 
 
 "To the ruler, sense of action, 
 Working out his great intent — 
 To the Prophet, satisfaction 
 In the mission he was sent."! 
 
 t Piilin Leaves, liy Lnnl HnuKliton. 
 
FUNERAL C E R E M () N I E S , 
 
 The obsequies of the Hon. Ezra Hakti.rtt French took place at 
 llie Congregational Chuicli, at the corner of Tenth and (1 streets, north- 
 west, at 3 P. M., on Sumlay, April 25, 18S0 Mr. French was, at his 
 ileath, the President of the Society of this Church, and the edilice was 
 crowded, not only with those who had Ijeen accustomed to see him 
 among tlie worshippers, and a large throng of others who came to do 
 honor to a deserving citi/en, hut by the members of the clerical force 
 lately under his charge. Among these were observed many who had lung 
 severed their connection with the office, Init whose regard for Mr. I'renrh 
 had suffercil no diminution from that circumstance. 
 
 After the usual opening exercises of prayer and anthem, followed by a 
 touching solo, " I'.eyond the Smiling and the Weeping," executed by Miss 
 Minnie Ewan, the pastor, Rev. J. E. Rankin, [). D., pronounced the 
 following eulogy: after which, while the solemn tones of the great organ 
 uttered an impressive dirge, under the hands of Professor r.isclioff, the 
 hundreds present pressed forward to take a last look at the ren^ains, 
 which lay in state before the pulpit. 
 
 The botly was then borne to the hearse by the chosen bearers, heads 
 of divisions in the office of the Second Auditor — .\. F. Wight, Thomas 
 R. Rathbone, H. A. Whallon, T. C. Bailey, Joseph P,arton, and F. H. 
 Morgan. These were followed by the honorary pall-bearers on the i)arl 
 of the Treasury Department, as f(jllows : Assistant Secretaries of the 
 Treasury H. V. French and J. K. Upton; A. G. Porter, First Comptroller; 
 W. W. Upton, Second Comptroller; Colonel O. H. Irish, Chief of the 
 Ijureau of Engraving amd Printing; R. M. Reynolds, hirst .\uditor; 
 [. M. McGrew, Sixth Auditor, and Hon. Horatio King, ex-Postmaster 
 General, a lifedong friend of Mr. French. 
 
 The procession then, under escort of the clerical force and of numerous 
 friends of the deceased, proceeded to the Paltimore and I'ntomac l>e[)ot, 
 where the remains were transferred to the train that was to take them to 
 Maine. 
 
S E R M O N 
 
 A PRINCE, AND A GRKAT MAN. 
 
 Ill, 38. "Ami the kini; said to his servants. Know yc not that 
 e is a jirinct; and a great man fallen, this day, in Israel?" 
 
 Tlic public men of a nation like ours — if they are true, 
 and noble, and good — are the ricb.est heritage we have. It 
 is our sacred duty to honor them, living; and to revere their 
 memory when dead. Princely ([ualities, qualities of greatness, 
 intellectual and moral, no man who knew him, would deny 
 to Ezra Bartlett French. "What your heart thinks 
 greatness is great. The soul's emjihasis is always right." 
 These words of Ralph Waldo Emmerson were beautifully illus- 
 trated in him. Simple, ingenuous, open-hearted, accessible as 
 a child; free from jealotisy, free from the si)irit of com- 
 petition or rivalry; contented to be what his Maker matle 
 him, and to let his Master make him room; enjoying 
 life in all its innocent features; in the little tlower, in the 
 sweet s;_)ng of the pet l)ird. in the beauties oi' nattire and of 
 art; appreciative of man, reverent towards (xod; tender and 
 true toward those nearest his great heart; loyal to man's 
 noblest aspirations and instincts — every true heart received him 
 as a kind of natural prince, for whom it was glad to make 
 ro.)m; received him, and crownetl him with many crowns. 
 
 There are men who seem belittled by their very elevation. 
 They seem the more diminutive the more you bring tlieir 
 inferior gifts and powers into contrast with high place, with 
 great responsibilities. They are like a poor insect in the focus 
 of a solar microscope. You see how commonplace their every 
 
38 
 
 member is. ( )tlier men seem to expand and broaden out to 
 meet the demands of every new elevation. They till every 
 place they occupy full. And if there is a ///i;//rr place, or a 
 ///\^//rx/ place, you say to yourself: "What ])roportions this 
 man mii;ht display were he only there!" 
 
 A great deal is said, in our day, about the dc^^eneracv of 
 our public men. Degeneracy means the falling away from a 
 high standartl. The i)ublic life of Mr. French may challenge 
 the closest scrutiny — m ly challenge comi)arisou with the highest 
 standards. If there was disinterested patriolisui; if there was 
 unflinching fidelity to ])ublic trusts in the first period of this 
 Republic; if you can select from the circle of Washington 
 and liis compeers men, the princely proportions of whose char- 
 acter seem like the i)illars of some great temple, hewn out of 
 the purest marble, and crowned with the most graceful cajjital; 
 such a man, 1 l)elieve, entitled to be found in such society, 
 I Ijelieve was Kzra H.vrtlett Frknch. 
 
 The two poles of Mr. French's great nature were tender- 
 ness and ivfiexibility ; mercy and justice. Around these two 
 pjles his being revolved. between these two poles, if 1 may 
 so speak, lay all the pleasing varieties of climate and produc- 
 tion; all the dilTerent zones of beauty; of mental and moral 
 phenomena which his daily life displayed. In his symjjathy 
 for the we'ak, the suffering, the wronged, he was as easily 
 wrought upon, as tearful as a woman. \w his intention to 
 mete out strict justice, to carry out to the letter the statute, 
 which, as an executive officer of the Crovernment, was his 
 guide, he was as inflexible as though made of iron. These 
 were his Arctic regions. It mattered not who you were; it 
 mattered not what your plea; the case was closed against all 
 argument. Justice had Ijandaged her eyes; she was deaf, she 
 was dumb; she had even drawn her sword, and was ready to 
 strike. That right hand would freely minister from his own 
 substance to give you temporary relief; but it should f(jrget its 
 
cunning, it should hang ])alsic(l at his side, before it should ever 
 be set with approval to tliat which was not just and due; to 
 that which the law gave him no right to grant. 
 
 Sir Rol)ert Walpole has said that cvn-y man has his price. 
 Wlu) ever found /his /nan's price? Let him answer here, in 
 the presence of his sacred dust. What, in his official cai)acity, 
 has tiiis man ever done which will not bear the light (jf day? 
 What thought has he ever had, what whisjjcr has he ever 
 breathed, that could not l)e published upon the house-top? 
 Wdiat seemed to him rii^ht this man would do, whoever 
 threatened, whatever hindered. Wiiat seemed to him :cirjn;:; — 
 to look it with the eye, to utter it in his ear, was an insult 
 to his nature. His whole being recoiled from it. His reidy 
 had in it all the mingled scorn and horror of the words, 
 "(iet thee behind me, Satan!" 
 
 Called to the position of Second Auditor of the Treasury 
 of the United States by Abraham Linoln himself; that he 
 should have held it during nineteen long years; years so 
 eventful and laborious; having paid out more than nineteen 
 hundred millions of dollars; and yet leave, to-day, a name as 
 si)otless and a repntation as untarnished as when he entered 
 it; nay, a name and a reputation brightened in lustre with 
 each succeeding year of public service; and this in a period 
 when it has sometimes seemed as though the people even 
 desired to see the one po[)ular idol after another topple o\er 
 in disgrace, and when the men of the press have seemed 
 determined to prove Walpole's maxim to be true, and to find 
 out every man's price. What better record could a man have 
 than this? A public; man champions a measure, a great 
 general fights a battle, and henceforth his name is famous. 
 This man has stood the champion of integrity, has fought the 
 battles of justice, for nineteen long years. We but wrap him 
 in the snow-white colors he has borne. 
 
 Madame de Remusat assures us, in her memoirs, that Napoleon 
 
40 
 
 the First selfCtcd all the methods of his government from those 
 which have a tendency ta ilc/>asc men ; that he pnt his cnvn 
 imprint of selfishness and meanness upon all beneath him. A 
 base man will always do this. A corrupt man will always 
 corrupt his inferiors. The difference in any government, or 
 department, or bureau, or office of government, between an 
 executive whose ends are noble and whose methods are direct; 
 who knows what he is about, and who cannot be tamitered 
 witli ; who asks notliing of those under him but that they be 
 men, men after his own order, faitht\il and true; and an official 
 of the oppositi' character is almost world-witle. One is a school 
 of honor; the other is a school of infamy. Mr. French was 
 a man, all of whose associates, assistants, and subordinates, 
 would feel the influence of his own noble nature. To serve 
 him as he wanted to be served enobled them. 
 
 Mr. French was not an aml)itious man. If he had l)een, 
 what prize might he not have grasped? Whenever a great 
 matter was at stake, whether in the courts or the legislative 
 l)odies of his adopted State, or on the flo(jr of Congress, he 
 had at conunand sucli resources of courage, of intellect, of 
 will: such reserves, seldom called into the field, as showed 
 that, whatever the emergency, he was sufficient for it. But 
 he had a large contentment with what he had. He hatl none 
 of that consuming passion for pulilic advancement, which has 
 emljittered the latter days of so many of our greatest minds. 
 But those who knew him best believe that there was no [)lace 
 in the gift of the peoi)le which he would not have adorned; 
 and to which he might not have rightfully aspired. Though 
 it may well be (questioned whether he could have served 
 his country in any capacity, more to her advantage, than in 
 the stui)endous work which he actually accomplished. 
 
 Mr. French was eminently friendly and social. He knew 
 nothing of a jn'ofane common people. To him man was 
 man, and every man was sacred. He was a large reader. 
 
41 
 
 especially of English literature ; had stored his great memory 
 with rlioice l)its of anecdote; knew men and events; and 
 there was no i)lace in the world where a friend was surer of 
 a warm greeting and genial entertainment than in his modest 
 apartments, in presence of the devoted woman who loved him 
 so well, and surrounded by a very gallery of select paintings, 
 such as only his refined taste could bring together. 
 
 Never was he more elotjuent than when the theme was his 
 tavorite piK't, Robert Burns, whom he seemed to regard as an 
 old-time crony, whom "he lo'ed as a vera brither." Whether 
 because of the reckless manner in which Burns handled some 
 of , the theological bugbears and inconsistencies of his own 
 boyhood days, or whether because of the jjoet's ringing words 
 in behalf of human freedom and rights, or whether because 
 of the wit and pathos and power of the poet himself; there 
 was nc) end to his praise of the Scottish l)ard. The socia- 
 bility of Mr. French's nature made him a welcome guest at 
 all the literary and other social gatherings in which AVashing- 
 ton so much abounds. Ap[)reciative himself, always ready to 
 lend a hel[)ing hand, never coming as a critic, enjoying 
 everything, contributing to everything, wherever he went he 
 was wanted again. This peculiarity of Mr. French's great 
 nature reminds us of the tribute of Roltert Burns to another, 
 a tribute which no one e\er deserved better than Mr. French: 
 
 "Co lu y.iur NCuli)tiirua louilis, yc -real 
 In a- llic tinsel trash of state! 
 r.ut by thy lionest turf I'll wait, 
 
 Thou man of worth, 
 Anil weep the ae best fellow's fate, 
 K'er laid in earth!" 
 
 In feature, port, and presence, Mr. French was one of the 
 most remarkable men you would see in a lifetime. With a 
 high tV)rehead, arching backward, a full, broad, shapely brow, 
 an eye responsive to any and every emotion, laughing with 
 light or burning with indignation ; an a(]uiline nose ; a clear- 
 cut, determinetl riKHith ; a laugh which had the melody of a 
 
42 
 
 great bell ; with a stately, well proportioneil figure, in which 
 greatness and dignity and ease and strength were all conil)ined; 
 tliere was something magnificent in his whole i)hysical con- 
 furmation. Spectators felt like thanking the (Creator for giv- 
 ing such a man such an outward framework. I have spoken 
 of him as deserving to be classed with such men as Wash- 
 ington, because of his severe and straightforward integrity. He 
 has often been compared t(j VVasliington, in his outward ap- 
 pearance; and there was nothing in the man which made you 
 feel that the c(_)mparison suggested uni)leasant differences. You 
 could not look upon him without remembering the words of 
 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 "A combinatiiin nml ;i form, indeed, 
 Wliere every y;(.)d did seem to set his seal, 
 To give the world assurance of a man." 
 
 He was such a man as you liked to look up to ; beneath 
 whose fatherly shadow you liked to hide yoiu'self. 
 
 l)y the ordinary laws of hereditary descent, Mr. French was 
 entitled to a long life. His father, Dr. John French, a man of 
 great vigor of intellect, died a few years since in Beloit, Wis- 
 consin, at the -^iTf- '^c -" jiy-three. The son died a little 
 short of sevei.cy. To his sense of public duty he literally 
 sacrihced his life. He made his coimtry heir of the entail 
 which he inherited from his ancestors. Born in LandalT, New 
 Hanii)shire, September 23, rSio, he read law in Bath and 
 Hoverhill, New Hampshire, practised a short titiie in Buffalo, 
 New York, and finally settled in Damariscotta, Maine. There 
 he married his wife. There, too, he attained his early suc- 
 cesses in his profession ; soon came to the front as a lawyer 
 and legislator, and from there, in due time, he was sent to 
 the stormy scenes of the Thirty-sixth Congress, the Congress 
 just preceding the rebellion. Among his more intimate asso- 
 ciates were Fessenden and Hamlin, and Henry Wilson; hon- 
 ored names, every one ; men with whom he stood shoulder to 
 shoulder in all those days which tried men's souls. 
 
From the first, Mr. Frcndi's illness, brought on by the 
 strain put upon him by the extra session of Congress, was of 
 a character to awaken the most serious apprehensions. In 
 lletlilehem, beneath the shallow of the White Mountains, where 
 he had so often found his strength again, the other shadows 
 bjgan to fall. They followed him back to Damariscotta ; back 
 again to Washington. They have hoveretl over him since. 
 They have now deepened into our night ; but he has escaped 
 them forever. With him, it is eternal day! When he re- 
 turned to this city last fall, he said to his jiastor : "I have 
 been lying u[)i)U my bed these many months, trying to school 
 myself to say, -Not my will, but thine be done!' Now, I 
 think I can say it." .Vnd yet he never despaired of getting 
 about again. He waitetl his Master's will. 
 
 Mr. French was an in(lei)entlent thinker on the suj)ject of' 
 religion ; but he was too many-sided a man, he had too 
 many greatnesses, to be a skeptic. Many times during the 
 last few years, with an indescribable mellowness of si>irit, has 
 he expressed his sincere conviction of the truth of Christianity: 
 his own j)ersonal reliance upon the atonement of the Lord 
 jesus Christ, and his sense of Christian fellow, .ij) with all true 
 Christians as a brother in the Lord. Fi)r the ten years of 
 my ministry here this congregation has furnished no more in- 
 telligent, or regular, or ap[)reciative hearer, and no more de- 
 voted friend to its pastor, than Ezra Bartlett Frknch. 
 There has been no fitter man to be President of this Society. 
 .\nd I wish to put n[>jn record here the good which his kind 
 presence here, and his kind words have always done me. No 
 one will miss him more than his pastor. It was only a few 
 tlays since that he recpiested the^ reading to him, some time, of 
 a recent sermon, on "The Immortality of the Soul;" adding, 
 with a firm confidence, which was actually thrilling, "Not that 
 I need it ! " It thrills me again as I recall it. He did not 
 need it. It was already written within him. 
 
44 
 
 'l"hus he went down into the valley of the shadow of death, 
 fearing no evil ; and when God's messenger actually came, he 
 did his work, as when one soothes to sleep a little child. 
 His watchers had only time to say to each other, " IJehold ! " 
 and he had ceased to breathe. The other day, only Wed- 
 nesday last, after many months of confinement with a decep- 
 tive convalescence, Mr. French was able to ride out, amid 
 the tokens of spring-promise, which greet us on every hand. 
 He saw the trees with their tender green ; the sparkling waters 
 of the Pot(niiac, the green banks beyond, and he thought 
 again, no doubt, of his own native hills, and how sweet the 
 air would taste, as he soon nestled for the summer beneath 
 them. It was a dream. It was a prophecy. Earthly things 
 lK)re the burden of things heavenly. He was never again to 
 breathe New England air. It was of the Hills of God that 
 he dreamed. It was of the greenness of those sweet fields 
 beyond the swelling Hood ; a fiood which God's messenger 
 smote, and it parted ; even before he knew it he was on the 
 other side. That eternal springtime lias burst xipon his being, 
 never to be interrupted, never to be broken. He there learns, 
 at the feet of Jesus, the lessons which we are so slow to 
 ajjprehend in this life. 
 
 What growth into the likeness of the Lord; what expan- 
 sion and blessedness are befi)re him ! Farewell, brother ! 
 .Sweet fellowship have we had upon this side ; God grant us 
 sweeter fellowship beyond ! 
 
 Yes, 
 
 Farewell, brother! 
 We see the mountain-tops aglow, 
 The distant heights we may not know ; 
 They are denied to us b6lo\v. 
 
 Farewell, brother ! 
 We cannot trace thine upward flight, 
 We know, thou'rt gone beyond our sight ; 
 We know, thou'rt only lost in light I 
 
EZRA r, ART LETT FRENCH. 
 
 BY MRS. A. L. RUTER IIUFOUK. 
 
 2d Samuel, jd chap., jStk verse. 
 "A prince this day has entercil heaven's <;ate, 
 The angel-herald with his trump proclaim'd ; 
 And seraph hosts that waited on the I.ortl 
 1 lowed with mute rapture. Every eye Hashed l)riL!:ht 
 On the approach of liim who stateliest walked, 
 'Mid his attendijig glorious embassy. 
 
 The man whom his Creator had made prince 
 
 Among his fellow-men, by attrilnites 
 
 Akin to God's; grand in all tliought and act. 
 
 Generous, and worthy of all meed and praise, 
 
 Staunch champion of what is true and right. 
 
 While tender as a woman's his great heart. 
 
 Friend to all science, progress, whate'er tended 
 
 To elevate, enrich, exalt the mind ; 
 
 True patron of the highest art, and sought 
 
 With ready hand to compensate, with word 
 
 To cheer, the earnest toiler on his way. 
 
 In search of fortune, fime, and truths divine. 
 
 What wonder they who call'd him brother, friend, 
 
 Now sit in sadness by his vacant place; 
 
 And sigh for the dear presence to them lost, 
 
 Yearn, vainly, for the regal form that e'er 
 
 Pre-eminent with grace and virtue stood. 
 
 () bitter sorrow to that widowed heart 
 
 So fondly sheltered, and so tenderly, 
 
 liy the true love of one so wise and good. 
 
 We sorrow with thee, sad and lonely one. 
 
 The great and good and loving weep with tiiee. 
 
 And pray that God be your defense and guide. 
 Alas, this world is full of sad farewells. 
 And bitter partings that do wrench the soul 
 Almost from reason's throne. P.ut tliey who trust. 
 Like the few faithful weeping at the cr>)ss, 
 That the dead Christ would rise some future day. 
 Look forward to behold their friend again. 
 Where shadows of sad parting or of death 
 'i'he radiance of his home can never mar. 
 
 Rest, noble friend ; sublime and calm thy rest 
 After thy life of duties so well done. 
 May thy example lead us to that realm 
 Where Love immortal rules, for God is love. 
 Washington, D. C, April 27, 1S80. 
 
f4® 
 

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