CHAPTER XXX.

1868.

DEATH OF MR. BUCHANAN-HIS CHARACTER AS A STATESMAN, A MAN AND A CHRISTIAN.

No OTWITHSTANDING the prospect of longer life with which the year 1868 began for Mr. Buchanan, the end was drawing near. The world and the world's interests faded away, the unknown future opened before him, and naught earthly remained for the strong old man, bound down by the infirmities of age, but the tender care of those who had assembled to soothe and cheer him.

When in health, he was very fond of having bright and cultivated women about him, and in sickness he was peculiarly dependent on their ministrations. For him, there had never been wife or child. But he was specially blest by female kindred, who never failed or faltered in their devotion to him. There were present at Wheatland, during his last illness, his brother, the Rev. Dr. Buchanan; Miss Henrietta Buchanan, daughter of that gentleman; Mr. and Mrs. Johnston; Mr. Henry, and the ever faithful "Miss Hetty." Kind neighbors were at hand, among whom his friend, the Rev. Dr. Nevin, was one of the most assiduous. Doctor Buchanan was obliged to return to his home, near Philadelphia, two days before the death occurred, at which time the event was apparently not very near. Miss Henrietta Buchanan, whose absence from her uncle's room, even for a short time, made him impatient, as well as Mrs. Johnston and Miss Parker, watched him with the utmost tenderness to the last. So did the others whom I have named. His death, the immediate cause of which was rheumatic gout, occurred on the morning of June 1st, 1868, in his 78th year.

His last hours were free from suffering, and his mind was clear. Miss Annie Buchanan says, in a communication addressed to

me:

In his last year he began to feel that he was very old, and looked forward to death, and spoke as if he expected it constantly. Not that his health was such as to create this expectation, for it was as good as persons of his age usually enjoy. He had a very severe illness soon after his return from Washington.

He had, previous to that illness, been unusually strong and well, but afterwards I do not think he was quite so much so. He had attacks of gout, more or less severe, at intervals, up to the time of his death. He had, besides, an illness which came upon him during a short visit which he paid to Cape May, which prostrated him so much that it was necessary to take him home as a sick man.

Each one of these illnesses made him realize more clearly that his hold on life was very weak, that the "silver cord would soon be loosed," and he devoted himself to making all necessary preparations for that great event. His affairs were all arranged with exactness, so as to cause as little confusion as possible after his death. He chose the exact spot for his last resting place, saying, either as expressing a desire or as predicting a fact, that he would lie alone. Having carefully arranged all his plans, he waited, with faith and hope, for the final change which would open to him the real and satisfying life. When the dreaded messenger came, those who loved him knew that rest had come to him at last, and that his "faith had changed to glad fruition."

The funeral obsequies of the late President took place at Lancaster, on the 4th of June, with every imposing demonstration that was consistent with a proper respect for his unostentatious character. I need not describe the scene, or recapitulate the ceremonies by which the event of his death was marked throughout the country. They may be read in the public journals of the time. But from the funeral sermon, preached over his remains by the Rev. John W. Nevin, D.D., President of Franklin and Marshall College, an extract must be permanently recorded in these pages, at the close of the present chapter.

It is unnecessary for me to undertake a formal and elaborate portrayal of Mr. Buchanan's character as an American statesman. It has been exhibited in the foregoing pages, and the reader does not need to be farther assisted by me in his estimate of the public character of the man. But there are some observations which

should be made by the author of this work, before citing the testimony of those who stood to him in the relations of near kindred, or of personal friendship.

There may be persons who will be disposed to think that he should not have allowed himself, in his old age, to be disturbed by the attacks that were made upon him by the press after his retirement from public life. But such persons should remember that he had to administer the Executive Government at a very trying period, and that many of the charges that were subsequently made against him involved his integrity as a statesman, and the oath of office which every President must take to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. Moreover, I cannot, for one, subscribe to the philosophy which assumes that a statesman should be indifferent to what is said of him by his contemporaries, or to what is made to pass into the materials of history, if it be not corrected. It must be admitted that in all free countries there is prurient appetite for detraction, and our American world is certainly not free from it. A considerable part of the public, in a certain sense, enjoys disparagement of the characters of very eminent public men. If this were not so, the press would at least be more careful and more conscientious than it often is. The absolute freedom of the press is of the utmost consequence. Its licentiousness is best restrained by the moral sense of the community, in the case of the higher statesmen; and to the extent to which this restraint does not operate, vast mischief may be done. It is impossible for posterity to know how to estimate any man who has filled a conspicuous place in history, if the materials for a sober judg ment are to be looked for only in the criticisms or laudations of the contemporary press; nor is it generally in the power of posterity to determine what deduction is to be made from the assertions or opinions of contemporaries, on account of the rancor of party or the malice of individuals. If Mr. Buchanan had not taken the pains, which he did take, to collect and preserve the most ample proof of his acts, his purposes, and his efforts as President of the United States, he would have gone down to future ages in a light utterly false, simply because he happened to be the object of enormous misrepresentations from motives of party policy or personal ill-will, without the protec

tion which the community should have thrown around him at the time. That this protection was to a great degree wanting, is doubtless due to the existence of public danger, and to the passions which may find their excuse in the fact that in many minds they had their origin in patriotism, whilst in many the origin was of the basest description. That he, who was the object of all this misconception and misrepresentation, forbore, as long as there was serious danger to the institutions of the country, to demand the public attention as he might have demanded it, and calmly relied on the judgments of the future, is to be accounted to him for a praise and a public spirit of no ordinary kind. No man was ever treated with greater injustice than he was during the last seven years of his life by a large part of the public, and yet he bore it with dignity and with an unchanged love of country.

In regard to his moral and religious character and his personal virtues, I should not feel that I had done my duty if I did not here say what has impressed me in my study of the man.

His strong family affections, his engaging social qualities, his fidelity to friends, and his forgiving temper towards those who had injured him, or from whom he had once been estranged, are well known. To those who stood in the relation of friends, he was ever a most generous benefactor. Many a man received from him pecuniary aid which prevented disaster and ruin, and which could not be repaid by political service, for in many cases the individual never had it in his power to repay in anything but the simple discharge of the pecuniary obligation. This had been his habit all his life, as I learn from a full examination of his private papers, and he did not cease from it when political service was no longer needed. His tender of such aid often came without solicitation. He would not allow a friend whom he valued to incur serious loss, when he knew of the danger, and could supply the means of averting it. For what was justly his due, he expected and required performance; but he was always a forbearing and considerate creditor. For the poor, he ever had a tender and thoughtful feeling. The city of Lancaster holds in perpetual trust, under his will, a benefaction of a peculiar kind, which marks the nature of his charities, and was large for one of his means.

That he did not enrich himself out of the public, or receive gifts, or accumulate money by means of the opportunities afforded by his public positions, or give way to the weakness of nepotism, should, perhaps, not be mentioned to his praise, if it were not that his example in these respects has become conspicuous by contrast.

No charge against his moral character or personal virtue has ever been made to my knowledge. It was doubtless his early Presbyterian training by religious parents that saved him, amid all the temptations of a long and varied life and the widest social experience, from any deviation from the path of virtue. The tongue of scandal, the prying curiosity of the censorious, or of those who are always ready to drag down others to their own level, never could fasten upon his intercourse with the other sex any cause for suspicion, nor could the wiles of the impure ever ensnare him. It is believed by those who knew him best that his life was in this respect absolutely without stain, as his conversation, although very often gay and festive, is known to have always been free from any taint of impurity. He was a man of too much refinement to be guilty of indelicacy in anecdote or illustration, or to allow of it in his presence.

The reader who has perused what I have written and quoted must have seen that there are scattered all through his life traces of a strong religious tendency and religious habits, a deep sense of religious obligation, a belief in the existence and government of God, and a full faith that this world is not the only sphere of man's existence. That he had a habit of daily prayer, according to the injunction which said, "Enter into thy closet," is perfectly well authenticated.

There may be men of the world who will smile when they read of a statesman, in a grave juncture of public affairs in which he had to deal with the passions and ambitions of individuals and with the conflicting feelings and interests of great communities, seeking guidance from his Maker. Prayer in the midst of party politics and the business of official life may possibly provoke the cold derision of some part of mankind. Whether it is or is not efficacious in human affairs-whether a resort to it is a sign of weakness or of strength, is just as men think and feel. Be it one way or the other, I did not 'dare to