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prompted the publication of this work, I read it with the most exquisite pleasure. The language is but little inferior to Milton's prose. It has the music of simplicity. To read his perfect flowing sentences, always concise and never jerky, is like watching a perfect drill of a richly uniformed battalion. His " History of the Tariff " is essentially partisan. Disclaiming any intent to attempt originality in argument, he merely selects from such works as are inaccessible to the gen eral public those passages which tend to for tify the Republican cause. With admirable dexterity, he makes state papers, political letters, and partisan histories advocate the Republican conception of a patriotic tariff. Still in the final analysis this work must sink into the category of an extensive partisan pamphlet and be ultimately forgotten. But one work he has given to universal commen dation — his "Personal Recollections" upon which his literary reputation must stand or fall. In two large volumes, he gives his reminis cence in a brilliant but breezy manner, that cannot help but delight while it instructs. An ardent Whig and Republican, he displays to a surprising extent those qualities of clearness, calmness and impartiality which essentially divides the historian from his fellows in lit erature. Thompson was a perfect gentleman, genial, polished, polite, and easily approached — a realization of the typical southerner of chivalric memory. An aristocrat of mind and heart he was a democrat in manners. In social intercourse he was a poem of harmony. Throughout his life, this social instinct smoothed the pathway of his progress. Despite his tremendous attacks upon Cath olicity he never permitted his ecclesiastic any more than his political views to interfere with his personal friendships. One of the most intimate of his associates was Father Simon Lalumiere of whom in reminiscent mood he has spoken in the most affectionate manner. The friendship between Voorhees and Thomp

son was as beautiful as it was unique. Be yond an honest intent and a broad humanity they had but little in common. Voorhees was an ardent Democrat; Thompson an ad vanced Republican. Voorhees' poetic nature revealed to him the splendor of Catholicity; Thompson's practical logic saw little beyond the infallibility of the Pope. Voorhees was as wayward and careless as genius; Thomp son as strict and scrutinizing as talent. Voorhees flew into controversy on the wings of impulse; Thompson entered cautiously, taking counsel of reason. And yet these congenial souls read the hearts of one another and saw beneath the vest of worldly opposi tion, the beating of a warm and vigorous heart. Colonel Thompson had the optimism of firm faith. The benevolence that glorified his aged countenance was but an anticipation of the eastern light. In his brilliant address on Morton he casts some light on his philos ophy ->- a philosophy which saw in life more mystery than in death. For years he had been prepared to die. He spoke of it with the complacency and confidence with which one might announce a journey to Italy. Be tween America and that land of sacred beauty stretches a world of waters — yet the Pilot's skill but seldom fails. Between this life and that eternal Italy, the mystery is deeper than the sea —but the Pilot's hand has never failed. Never has there been a more lumin ous old age. Surrounded by the people he had served; worshipped by the future gen eration that hung upon his lips; conscious of the discharge of his duty and the stability of his place in history, he looked out over the land of prosperous development he had seen ex pand beneath the energy of man — and called life good. He never doubted the perpetuity of the Republic. He had almost stood by its cradle, had witnessed its early struggles for existence, and had seen it pass through the darkness of desperate conditions into the pure light of prosperous day. He smiled