well-developed manhood, at once the incarnation
of gentleness, tenderness, and courage, it is not to be wondered at that
sorrow for his death hung over his State like a funeral pall, and all
parties vied with each other in giving expression to the universal sense
of private and public loss.

He was the son of a distinguished sire, who in life was the idol of the
people of Virginia; but he was held in the highest esteem by the people
of his State not so much on account of his illustrious father as on
account of his own ability and worth. His public services and his
blameless life, touching, tender, and beautiful, won the tributes to his
memory pronounced by his colleagues at the other end of this Capitol.
Fortunate, indeed, is the man who can win such admiration from his
associates.

What higher eulogy can be pronounced on any man than that in every
station, public and private, he was true to himself and faithful to the
people and was equal to the duties of his station? Not every man can
become great; genius is the gift of the few, but goodness and fidelity
to duty are within the reach of all. He has gone the way of all the
living. He has found the level of the grave. Our words of eulogy can not
reach him there.

Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or flatt'ry soothe the dull, cold ear of death?

Solomon, summing up this question, said:

For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any
thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them
is forgotten.

Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished;
neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is
done under the sun.

To human reason the death of him we mourn was untimely. He was born May
31, 1837, and died October 15, 1891. He was therefore in the prime of
manhood, and apparently had many years of useful life before him. But
death sometimes strangely selects his victims. No season, no station, no
age is exempt from his fatal shafts. When death comes to the aged as the
end of a fully completed life we regard it as natural. But when death
comes to the young, the gifted, and the promising, we with our finite
vision look upon it as sad and mysterious. We are constantly reminded
that--

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead