Year: 1879

lHenry Watterson, in the Louisville Courier IournaL

 The chief of the stalwarts is dead. His light, if not remarkable for its brllliance, burned fiercely, reaching a white heat, and goes out suddenly enough to startle the country. Men have not been used to con- template the rugged old partisan from the standpoint of death. There was that about him, indeed, which seemed to defy all the elements. He was a fighter, and fighter from Bitter creek, pretty high up, North side. He had the faculty of giving and taking hard blows; was sincerely wrong headed; was fearlessly outspeken; was, per sonally, upright and of kind, placable and even genial nature. His friends, of whom he had perhaps as many as any man of his time, will lament his going; while amid certain sense of relief in his enimies, feel ing bordering on regret will mingle itself. There are always traits 10 admire in posi- tive character; and, if it be true, as true it is. that better men have lived than Zacha- riah Chandler, it is also true that very many worse, and very much worse, men have lived

 It would be an impropriety in us to say what we do not think or feel in referring to the deceased Senator. We have known him long enough to take a just, if not an enthusiastic, estimate of his personality; and his place in the service; aud he himself would be tke first, if he were alive. to scorn the empty penegyric of funeral ceremony. He did not deal Tn subterfuge. He had the bravesmaH's SCOTT, the honest mans con- tempt of canting and lodging. He was al- ways thoroughly Tn earnest and spoke his mind out freely. 1t was his opinion in 1860 that things had come to such pass that "a little blood-lettiDg" as he pbrased 1t, "would be good for the body polite" He was therefore, for war. Though not ma lignant man, or even good hater, he had worked himself up to distrust of all things and all men Southern, and nothing was too violent, nothing too questionable, which promised to compass any design to thwart them. He hesitated neither as to the word nor deed, holding the end in all cases to justify the means.

 Intellectually cross between old Ben Wade and Oliver Morton, possessing some what of the burly wit and bluff style of the enc and the alert brain-power of the other, he was strong beth as an organizer and a speaker. There was no nonsense about him. He went straight for the thing in sight; and he generally came off with it. His methods were bad, and he made no bones about them. His opinions were ex treme, and he advanced them on every sc- casion with an aggressive force which was rarely without effect. He was here to com mand; and, so far as he cared to, he always did command.

 Thereis no stain upon his pri- vafe honor. His life was prosperous, and there is no reason to believe that his home ,-o- ,,ot I,o,p,- Ln pa,-or hatra voH friend He never struck an enemy in the back. He was headstrong and boisterous. He did not set himself as an example to the young manhood of the country; but we cannot say thst he corrupted 1t.

 In the history of his time he will stand cut conspicuously. Ills name will be assoei- ated with a period of gigantic corruption, which he did not share. He was surround cd by a cluster of politicians, whose base ness and hypocrisy he did not emulate. He fought hIs own battle right out from the shoulder, giving no quarter and asking none. He dies with his war-paInt upon him, and all his passions at their hottest, and he will ce taken to his grave amid the mournings and the plaudits of the party, for which his services have been very great. In no sense of the word a statesman, one whose love of country was held in complete sutjection to his partisan prcjudices, he was politician of the very first ordcr-adroit. interruptions, full of resources, bold, ready, and effective.

 The death of such a man is an event. He was power in the land, and we certainly think power for evil. But he has crossed the great river, which we all must cross, and has reached world where there are no rebels and no quarrels, but only life eter- nal, light, peace and love. He knows now whether he was right or wrong in the hard judgment and harsh thoughts of those of his countrymen from whom his difference was lite long. Most certainly those of us who remain behind yet a little longer behold his coffin descend into the grave with no other feeling tha hthat it contains tbe mortal fragments of one who had power only while living to kindle anger; of one who, in life, gave us no more than we gave him, and who, in death, squares the account. He was hard one to tackle. He was geod fighter. God be with him, and may he rest in peacel

 -~s--~-----------