adjournment of the Fifty-second Congress and the close of the Harrison administration. He was reminded that a matter of great importance to one of his constituents was pending in one of the Departments which he had promised to attend to, but had not. It was one of the most inclement days of that memorable winter. There was a blinding and violent snowstorm abroad. But without a moment's hesitation he ordered his carriage, went to the Department, and fulfilled his promise. No special obligation rested upon him to make this sacrifice, but a friend was sorely in need of assistance which he alone could give.

The day of his funeral was a memorable one in the annals of our State. On that bright June day, under that soft California sky, in the lovely valley which he had chosen for his home, in sight of the already famous university which he had estab lished, we laid him to rest. No invitations were issued, no efforts were made to bring out a concourse of people, but the simple announcement that LELAND STANFORD was dead and that his funeral would take place on the 24th of June at Palo Alto brought together the most notable body of people ever assembled on such an occasion in California.

From every part of the State came the men who had laid the foundation of our Commonwealth and assisted in making its history; men who projected the great enterprises for the development of the State; people interested in education, literature, and art were there; the pioneers of the Republican party were there; men who had grown gray in the service of the railroad company which he directed were there with tributes of affection; and thousands were there who mourned the death of a benefactor.

Thus went to rest one of the most conspicuous men of our times-merchant, governor, Senator, continental railway pioneer, and founder of a great university.

Whatever may have been his share of the weaknesses common to our human nature, they are lost sight of in the good he accomplished, the result of which will long survive him.

ADDRESS OF MR. SIBLEY, OF PENNSYLVANIA.

Mr. SPEAKER: For several years during the latter portion of his life I had the honor and the pleasure of the close personal friendship of Hon. LELAND STANFORD. Under the shade

of a wide-spreading oak in a cloudless land, where nature seems to bestow her riches and rarest treasures in prodigal profusion, it was given me to listen to and learn from this truly marvelous man. Some similarity in tastes, a mutual love for the soil, its products, its capabilities for support of human life, a common admiration for the noblest of the animal kingdom, and the enthusiasm that pertains to one a generation younger, led him to recount to me his past, to speak freely of the present, and on rare occasions to explore the future. I never met this man for an hour that I did not have on parting a higher appreciation of his wisdom, a greater respect for his opinions, a warmer admiration for his virtues, greater love for his nobility of character, and a truer sympathy with his aspirations.

I shall not dwell upon his business career, but in passing recount one incident. Looking off to the great Sierra Nevada range rising to the heavens as a snow-white, impenetrable barrier, he told me the story of the building of the Central Pacific road over their mighty summits. He told me how, with three other men, none of them rich, they would meet at night and talk about the necessity of something faster than a pony express from the Missouri River to the Pacific, and something pleasanter than a stage coach and emigrant trail;

and then how these four men, whose total means were not adequate to build one single mile through some portions of the mountains, determined that they would start the road and demonstrate to the world the possibility of a railroad over the Sierras. Friends laughed at them, even jeered at them; entreated of them not to risk life's earnings in so hazardous an enterprise. He told me of the trials and discouragements, and that for more than two years he did not know whether he was worth millions or poorer than a penniless beggar. But the work went on to completion, and what had been a dream yesterday was an accomplished fact to-day.

The building of the Central Pacific Railroad gives the clue to the whole life of this man, whose projects were so grand as to inspire doubts, and yet when tested found so practical as to utterly dispel them. He had faith in himself, and, what is so often lacking in great minds, he had a most trustful faith in others.

I shall not dwell upon his success in every field of human effort to which he brought his master mind, not among the least being his success in new lines of breeding and developing of the domesticated animals and his success in new fields of agricultural experiments. Rarely has keen business acumen been so closely woven in one life with generous impulse, tender emotion, and broad human sympathy.

One day at Palo Alto he showed me the beautiful park in the center of which had been started the foundations of a home for his only son, who had died some three years before. He told me of the boy's character and his ambitions for him; and then we went together to the tomb of the boy, and he told amid tears and sobs how since the death of his son he had adopted and taken to his heart and love every friendless boy and girl in all the land; and that so far as his means afforded they should go to make the path of every such an one

smoother and brighter; and that with the increase in values of property given to the Leland Stanford Junior University he hoped that it would yet be able to feed, clothe, and educate all the poor but aspiring youth on the Pacific Slope.

I shall not dwell upon his public and his private charities and the zeal with which his wife entered into every plan for the amelioration of the wretched; of the founding of mission and orphan schools by Mrs. Stanford, and the great interest he always took in her work for their welfare.

One little digression here in point. My partner and myself had purchased a young colt of him, for which we paid him $12,500. He took out his check book, drew two checks of $6,250 each, and sent them to two different city homes for friendless children, and, with a twinkle in his eye and broadly beaming benevolence in his features, said: "Electric Bell ought to make a great horse; he starts in making so many people happy in the very beginning of his life."

I am not familiar with his early life, but know that in his latter years the aim and end of his existence was for the welfare and happiness of others. The death of his son seemed to have changed the whole channel of human existence with him. It was the black frost which opened up the rough burr and showed the rich fruit within.

Shall I say he failed to discern the good outside his own party? No; he ever placed patriotism above partyism; public weal above personal advantage. He stood with the people in their demands for free silver coinage. He believed in America and her institutions, and during his last visit in the East stated his individual belief that within ten years, through the growth of the beet-sugar industry, America would produce more sugar than would be needed for her own people, and save to the nation in a single item more than one hundred millions annually.

A man of such resources, understanding finance and knowing those who controlled the finances of the nation, he was keenly alive to the dangers threatening the people. He gave his best powers of thought to the evolution of a system which should emancipate the nation's producers from the slavery of universal debt and financial fetters. He saw that a nation's greatness rested not upon her strong towers, her mighty fortresses, frowning cannon, and enginery of war, but saw with keenest vision that the safety of the state lay in the prosperity of a free and contented people, whose strong right arms, hopeful hearts, and happy homes should ever prove the strongest bulwarks of liberty. The public press with a laugh and the aristocracy of finance with a jeer set the seal of disapproval upon his latest and mightiest conception for American progress and welfare.

Mr. Speaker, I have stood among the majestic Alps before the break of day. The moon had long since sunk to rest and darkness shrouded earth with sable curtains so thick that all nature seemed wrapped in death's dark folds. Of a sudden, in the west, out of the blackness, appeared a glorious vision. The topmost peak of a majestic mountain had caught the first gleams of the god of day and wrapped its snowy head with a halo of golden glory. Though still dark in the valley, this towering peak was illumined. The light and glory still descended. The head of a companion peak was irradiated with another and marvelous transformation. Peak after peak, summit after summit, first the greater and then the less, caught the light until from the dark valley the whole range was so transplendent they seemed like long rows of white and glittering angel messengers with the halo of God's ineffable glory crowning their brows, proclaiming the birth of a new day. And soon the promise was fulfilled, even to those upon the plain. The highest peaks had caught but a trifle in