1864.] THE LATE PROFESSOR SILLIMAN. 469 



thus became the object of personal defamation, even in the Senate- 

 chamber at Washington ; but he still remained firm, for he recog- 

 nized in this war a slaveholder's rebellion. All the lofty sentiments 

 of patriotism which were awakened in childhood as he witnessed 

 the conmiencement of national life, were intensified by this 

 struggle to maintain the Union. He was sure that the nation 

 would be purified by the conflict, and liberty established through- 

 out all the land. 



Mr. Silliman has always been remarkable for uniform good 

 health, and in his later years but slightly manifested the encroach- 

 ments of age. To the last, his form was as erect, his brow as 

 serene, and his features as full of life and cheerfulness, as in his 

 earlier days ; and his gait was only a little slower and more 

 cautious. 



He continued as usual until the middle of November just past, 

 when he was for a few days quite unwell, probably as an imme- 

 » diate consequence of exposure to cold when attending an evening 

 meeting in behalf of the Sanitary Commission. He had gradually, 

 to appearance, regained nearly his former strength during the 

 followmg week, and on Wednesday was intending to join the 

 family Thanksgiving festival the next day at the house of his son- 

 in-law, Prof. Dana. On the morning of that day (November 24), 

 he awoke early, after a night of quiet rest, feeling stronger, as he 

 said, than he had done for some days. He spoke with his wife of 

 the many reasons there were for thankfulness, both public and 

 private ; dwelling at length upon the causes for national gratitude, 

 especially in the recent re-election to the Presidency of a man who 

 had proved himself &o true, so honest, so upright in conducting 

 the alfairs of the governmemt as Mr. Lincoln. As was his custom, 

 he ottered up, while still in his bed, a short prayer, and repeated a 

 familiar hymn of praise. In resuming his conversation, before 

 rising, he spoke of the possibility of his attending the public ser- 

 vices of the day, of the happiness of his home, of the love of his 

 children, and, in strong terms of endearment, of his wife. Just 

 as these his last words of love were uttered, there was a sudden 

 change of countenance, a slightly heavier breath, and he was 

 gone. At the advanced age of eighty-five, life to him was still 

 beautiful ; and not less so was its close. His sun set in the bless- 

 edness of the Christian's faith, to rise on a brighter morrow. — 

 From Am. Jour. Sci. [2], vol. xxxix, No. 115. 



YoL. I. FB- No. 6. 



