Eulogy of Hon. John Hickman on the late Senator Broderick, delivered in the House of Representatives of U. S., February 13, 1860. Mr. HICKMAN said, Mr. Speaker, "The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol ;" and I speak the truth in eulogy. I could not do otherwise without wronging the character of the illustrious dead, who was a bondman to the truth. Born of the humble, David C. Broderick died a peer of the proudest and the best. His commanding life challenged respect, and its surrender sanctified it. Dead, he still lives, and will live. Absent from those who knew him best and valued him most, he will continue to be present with them. In every conflict for principle, in every struggle for the discharge of patriotic duty, he will whisper to the doubting, and hold up the right arm of the resolute. "In stilly thought, and in the wildering fight, A cloud by day, a pillared flame by night, He'll point us onward, onward to the goal, Leading on legions with his vast control- Implanting truth, the idol of his soul." Since we last met here, yonder Chamber of your Capitol has lost a sage's intellect, a hero's heart, a devotee of country. David C. Broderick has ceased to walk the earth, and sleeps his last sleep in the Golden City of the West. Mighty states, extending from the Pacific to the furthest East, were startled and almost paralyzed at the recital of the sad story; and their sturdy yeomanry, their skilled in craft, their sons, breathed their vow in tears and registered it in faith and determination. Their banners are already in their hands, let the nation read them. They bear the last words of a dying seer - they may yet be trumpeted at the mouths of cannon on fields of war. Hereafter, in the vast hereafter, children will speak his name when tracing their father's creed; and here, homage, impulsive, not ceremonial, shall be presented to him, as officers of the state and army rendered it before the corse of the great Constantine. Forty years ago, whilst the centre portions of this building were rising from the ashes of wicked conflagration, within sight of this spot, a child was born to a lowly artisan. How little did that father imagine that the columns upon which he then wrought were to support a dome, beneath which that son should sit as a Senator from a State not then known to the Confederacy, and bearing within its bosom treasure more valuable than the coffers of the world. And yet, in the volume of Omniscience it was written out how David C. Broderick, the child of toil, should live and die; what noble aspirations, what self-sacrificing devotion, what unconquerable will, would achieve; how he would suffer immolation at the call of conscience; and his example should become an inspiration to millions of men, from whose ranks he rose like a giant from slumber. He was God's instrument for mighty purposes, and He gave him love, and comprehension, and power. He was a philanthropist, a philosopher, a chief. Those who thought him less never knew him, and must fail to comprehend the cause and extent of that feeling which his death has produced. It will be better understood hereafter. When the heavens clothe themselves in mourning, they hold the hot thunderbolt as well as the gentle rain. None are too wise to learn. Mistakes may be made by defying the one whilst petitioning for the other. I esteem it my highest honor to have enjoyed fully the affection and confidence of the departed statesman; and clustering memories, as well as a request made and a pledge given, when the lion was in the pride of his strength, and snuffed his danger in the distance, demand that I should speak of him as I knew him. My estimate of Mr. Broderick's character is not made up from the wild excitement of party conflict, or the deeper feeling of parliamentary contests. It is drawn from a more truthful source - from the calm and meditation of the midnight hour. Undisciplined by early education, and making no pretense of learning, he was thoroughly acquainted with the history of his race, and had carefully and critically read the best models in English literature. Mankind was his study. He had a quick perception of ruling motives, and his charity was great. Without a tie of blood to bind him in selfishness to the world, the glory of his country and the happiness of her people gave direction to all his thoughts and molded all his plans; singularly modest in his bearing, and diffident in the expression of his opinions, he was entirely self-reliant, and possessed a courage devoid of fear. His consecration to the interests of the farmer, the mechanic, and the laborer, was complete. Their loss is irreparable, and I would bid them know it. With the impassioned utterances of a contemporaneous poet, I would turn their grief to action- "Arouse from your lethargy, children of toil, Ye sons of the anvil, the loom, and the soil; Come forth as the winds, in their struggling might, And wrestle 'till death with the foeman of Right. "Twas thus with your leader, the gifted and true; His life was a sacrifice, given for you; Every pulse of his heart, every nerve of his frame, Was to dignify Labor, and give it to Fame." I need not say I loved him, yea, with more than a brother's love I shall never forget him; no, neither in calm nor storm. I would embody his spirit, if I could, in an undying frame, that the friendless and oppressed might look forward in unfailing hope. But, alas! In anguish I repeat it, Broderick - there was but one - has ceased to walk the earth. I may not allude even to the circumstances of the hero's fall' and I have no disposition to do so. I believe, I feel, I know! that is enough of consolation. God called; he answered, and took his cause with him. In the hands of just Omnipotence I leave him and it. He has left his mantle - too large for ordinary mortals; who that still breathes is daring enough to place in on his shoulders? He was just and generous; he was gifted and noble; he was proud and patriotic. He raised poverty to rank, proving the legitimacy of its blood; and his fame will be as enduring as the the records of public virtue. [*2365*] J. Hickman M. C, Hon. Abraham Lincoln Springfield Ills. forward [*Hon. Hickman*] [*[Feb. 13, 1860]*] [*V-11*] [*2366*] Transcribed and reviewed by contributors participating in the By The People project at crowd.loc.gov.