The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1868-08-22
The Fallen Oak.

LII Is hard TO pen In few words as mucn as
our hearts prompts us to say of Thaddeus
SteveDs-now at last in his tomb. Any other
President than Andrew johnson would have
announced his death in an official bulletin-as
Abraham Lincoln announced Edward Ever
etts. But the grand old Roman needs no
tribute from the Punic traitor of the White
House. Nay, a President who could step
down to a drunken mob and ask them to hang
Thaddeus Stevens had no right to intrude
chaplet upon the dead statesman's bier.
White flowers were strewn upon the coffn-lid
by black hands; and this was greater honor.
Henceforth, like a dew, the blessings of the
lowly shall keep green his grave.
"And Freedom shall awhile repair
To dwell weeping hermit there"
Called "The Great Commoner," like the
elder Pitt Mr.. Stevens was like his prototype
in imperous parliamentary sway; like him in
esgle-like quickneSs and ferocity of attack;
like him in power Of blistering sarcasm; like
him in the almost preternatural scorn and con-
tempt which he could express by his counte-
nance and forefnger; like him in arrowy
directness of argument; like him in whteness
of unspotted honesty; like him in that self
abnegation which substituted for personal
interest passionate pride of country; and
like him, above all things else, in illustrious
devotion to liberty.
OF course, we are far from saying that
Thaddeus Stevens was gifted with that majes-
tic eloquence which, il tradition be true, made
Lord Chatham the Demosthenes of modern
times. But it must be remembered that Mr..
Stevens rose from local into a national repu-
tatcn, not by efforts made in the prime, but
in the decline Of life. Not sent to Congress
till he was already a veteran, he received dur
ing his first term his familiar nickname of
cold Thsd." His best battles had been fought
and won long before the nation saw him lift
spear in Washington. In his ashes lived his
wonted fires, but the earlier blaze was brighter
than the later embers. IT. during his whole
career, instead of during a mere fragment of
it, he had been an actor on the national stage;
if, like Palmerstop, he had been lifelong gla-
diator in his country's chief arena; his
colossal abilities wsuld have achieved for him
a colossal reputation. At the death of Cole
ridge, it was said that ga great man had died,
leaving behind him no adequate memorial OF
his greatness" OF Mr.. Stevens it must be
said that he leaves behind him no speeches,
or measures, or achievements (great as some
of them are) which afford an adequate mea-
sure of his extraordinary powers. 81 shall
soon die," said he to us recently, "and shall
then be soon forgotten" Such a man can
never entirely be forgotten. But there are
some statesmen-as, for instance, Burke and
Jefferson-who live more vividy after death
than before; whose names grow more and
more authoritative, and whose influence more
ana more potent; OUT lDdQu6uS OL6VenS uObS
not belong to this immortal class.
Wit is statesman's sword of victory: he
who can WELD it is conqueror even in de-
feat. Thaddeus Stevens always carried this
weapon at his side-a Damascus blade that
could cut a hair or split helmet. His jests
were coarse or fine, polite or vulgar, accord
ing to the company and the occasion. His best
repartees were jewels OF the first water. A
book of them-but they have never been pre-
served-would send him down to the next
generation to be "a wit among lords, and a
lord among wits" Bitter as John Randolph,
and cruel as Tristan Burgess, Mr.. Stevens,
unlike either of these serpent-tongued men,
never felt more than a momentary malice.
He harbored no unkindness to any human
being. In fact, we happen to know that he
had not a particle Of ill-will even towards
Andrew Johnson. To the credit of human
nature what more can be said?
His private life was not good example
| His habits included the offenses common with
many English statesmen of quarter of a cen.
tury ago. and too common with some Ameri
can statesmen of to-day. We do not believe
in lying-least of all in the solemn presence o.
| death and the grave. living mans vices
cannot become dead mans virtues. During
his life, Thaddeus Stevens was no saint nor
| after his death, ought he to receive canoniz a.
| ton. Sister Loretta's baptismal drops on his
brow did not wash away any soilure from hi:
character. Writing of him here as his faithful
| friend, we know that, could he now SO frame
| these words Of ours as best to suit his owI
| wishes, he would command us to paint hin
truthfully as he was, and would forbid us tC
omit the necessary shadow of the picture. Bu
| we have noticed as an occasional phenome
non in morals, that public spirit sometimes
| becomes all the more a passion with mer
who have lost something of private virtue
as if human nature, having stained itself or
| one side, sought all the more bravely to keeI
itself bright on another. To all who knew
| Thaddeus Stevens beneath the surface, it was
plain that, having many years ago parted
with a proper pride in his personal character
he sought to make perpetual atonement tt
his higher nature, and by a substituted pla
tonic fidelity to his country's honor; and 81
this old man loved the Republic as purely a!
Florizel loved Perdita. But the few mel
whose private errors may thus become public
benefits, and who can say, with Luther, I"
thank God for my sins," are none the less
to be condemned for those very failings which
thus clean to virtues side.h Nevertheless
there is one beautiful spiritual compensation
to such men, for hidden within their breasts
are solemn sorrows, or what Wordsworth
calls majestic pains, by which their charac
ters become purified as by refining fires. Sucl
inward processes as these long ago mad
Thaddeus Stevens a better Christian thai
many Copperhead clergyman who will TAX
occasion OF his death to sneer at mis- life.
Not many months ago. on learning that tn
cemetery in Lancaster in which he expecte
his ashes to repose would not admit the bod
of negroes to burial, he Indignantly sold hi
lot, and purchased one in another ground
where, in the oonsecrated dust of Gods acre
all men might be equal-and so, even in hi
grave, we may still salute him as "The Grea