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the North heartily honored a man who could say,
“<7 never departed from principles — | NEVER SHALL.”
He was above bribery. “ When I went to Con-
gress,” he said, “I made a covenant with myself,
signing it the day before I took the oath of office :
‘Except my pay, I will never make a dollar in
Washington, while a member of Congress,’ I have
collected for others, I suppose, half a million of
dollars, and I would never take a cent of it.”

While in Washington, a lady called upon the
great lawyer, asking his aid to save an imperilled
estate belonging to herself and three daughters.
He befriended her, chivalrously, and when she
offered to pay him, he refused it, but reminded her
of having given a “cup of cold water” on an
August day to a lad who was walking forty miles
to college! She was astonished to learn that the
weary lad and the famous lawyer were the same
person,

During all these years of anxiety and excitement
he wrote almost daily to Linton. Now it is of
mighty matters of State, now he tells of the illness
and death of his pet dog, Rio:

He sleeps at my feet in the day, [Mr. Stephens was ill],
and at night before I go up stairs to bed. . . . . Dur-
ing the night he repeats his visit several times. Poor fellow,
he is blind. He barks incessantly if [leave him. He keeps
close after me and follows the sound of my feet. I usu-
ally carry a cane, and let that drag along behind, for him to
hear it more distinctly than he can my tread. I find more
pleasure in thus exercising Rio, and witnessing the pleasure
it affords him, than I ever did in the enjoyment of all the
honors this world has ever seen fit to bestow upon me.

eos It is all over with poor old Rio. His strength
failed just at my room door, then he fell and died without
any struggle. He lay in the library all night. Next day he
was put into a box or coffin, and buried in the garden. Over
his grave I shed a tear, as I did over him frequently as I saw
nature failing.

After the war he wrote his Constitutional History
Of the Rebellion; it was able and candid. He
received from the sales, thirty-five thousand dollars.
Four years of this time, afflicted with inflammatory
rheumatism, he did not leave his house. He wrote
often in great pain, while propped up in his bed by
pillows. Invited nowto the Professorship of Polit-
ical Science and History in the University of
Georgia, he was obliged to decline. But during
this seclusion at his home in Georgia, which he
called Liberty Hall, “ because,” said he, “I do as
I please and all my guests are expected to do the
same,” he had five law students in his office, to
whom he made no charge either for books or in-
struction. During his life he aided over one hun-
dred and twenty young men and women to go
through college, a large number of whom entered
the ministry.

LITTLE BIOGRAPHIES.—HOW

SUCCESS IS WON.

And now came a great personal trial in the
death of his brother Linton, who had become a
prominent lawyer. Mr. Stephens said bitterly,
“The light of my life is extinguished. Why am I
here hobbling about and Linton gone?”

He was soon after elected to the United States
Senate. None of us who have seen him seated in
his chair on wheels before the Speaker’s desk —
for he could not walk, save with two crutches and
but feebly with them — will ever forget that pale
sad face, those clear, brilliant eyes ; his great mind
and his emaciated body. When Carpenter’s pic-
ture “ Signing of the Emancipation Proclamation,”
was given to the Government by the beneficence
of a woman, Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson, who paid
twenty-five thousand dollars for it, he who had been
the Vice-President of the slave-holding States, was
asked to make an address in conjunction with
General Garfield; and eloquently did he speak of
Abraham Lincoln, and of the future of a reunited
country.

Yet once again Georgia longed to show her
pride in her favorite son; and in 1883 he was
made Governor. Savannah soon celebrated the
one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the coming
of Oglethorpe, and Mr. Stephens, now seventy-
one seated in his chair, brought in glowing review
the history of the State, before the assembled
thousands. But the effort, the excitement, the
enthusiasm, was too much, and on March 4, he
died at Liberty Hall. Governor Stephens’ last offi-
cial act, after fifty years of service, was to grant a
pardon.

Nearly eighty thousand persons gathered to look
upon the beloved leader as he lay in state, at the
Capitol. The flowers brought by friends covered
numerous tables, and the roller-chair, now vacant,
was hung and cushioned with their beautiful bloom.
Throngs of the colored people walked many miles
to look upon the man who had always treated them
with protective kindness. A dozen bands played
the “ Dead March” and thirty military companies
headed the procession, two miles long, to the grave,
At sunset they laid the Governor to rest, and just
as one bright star came out, the great, silent com-
pany departed. ;

The general mourning, the sense of loss and
bereavement will linger with the present genera-

tion. The people at large loved him! The smali
man was their hero. He furnished them with an
ideal. His kindness could no more be hidden

than the sun. Like the sun, it shone for all.
Some one said to him, “Governor, I am told you
keep a room for tramps at Liberty Hall.”

The reply was characteristic: “Yes; I feel it
my duty to try to make everybody as happy as I
can” :