In 1880 General Toombs appeared in Atlanta, and addressed the Georgia Legislature in behalf of the candidacy of General A. R. Lawton for the United States Senate. His appearance, as he walked up the aisle, grim, venerable, and determined, awoke wild applause. He preserved his power of stirring the people whenever he spoke, but his speech was not as racy and clear as it had been. "This was one of the occasions," to quote from a distinguished critic of Toombs, "when the almost extinct volcano glowed again with its wonted fires—when the ivy-mantled keep of the crumbling castle resumed its pristine defiance with deep-toned culverin and ponderous mace; when, amid the colossal fragments of the tottering temple, men recognized the unsubdued spirit of Samson Agonistes."

His last public speech was in September, 1884, when the people of Washington carried him the news of Cleveland's election to the Presidency. He came to his porch and responded briefly, almost inaudibly, to the serenade, but he was full of the gratification which Southern people felt over that event. He declared that he did not know that there was enough manhood in the country as to break loose from party ties and elect a President. The fact had revived his hope for the whole country. He had, before this, taken a gloomy view of the nation. He had, on one occasion, declared that the injection into the body politic of three million savages had made good government forever impossible. He had afterward said that the American Constitution rested solely upon the good faith of the people, and that would hardly bind together a great people of diverse interests. "Since 1850," he once said, "I have never believed this Union to be perpetual. The experience of the last war will deter any faction from soon making an effort at secession. Had it not been for this, there would have been a collision in 1876." But the election of Cleveland he regarded as a national, rather than a sectional victory—a non-partisan triumph in fact; and it was at this time, the first occasion since the war, that he expressed regret that he had not regained his citizenship and gone back into public life.

But his great power had begun to wane. His tottering gait and hesitating speech pointed unmistakably to speedy dissolution. The new-born hope for his country came just as his steps neared "the silent, solemn shore of that vast ocean he must sail so soon."

In March, 1883, General Toombs was summoned to Atlanta to attend the funeral of his lifelong friend Mr. Stephens. The latter had been an invalid for forty years, but was kept in active life by the sheer force of his indomitable will. Emerging from the war a prisoner, he had finally secured his release and had been elected United States Senator. Being prevented from taking his seat, he had returned home and finished his constitutional review of the "War Between the States." In 1873 he had been reËlected to Congress, where he had remained for ten years, resigning this position to accept the nomination for Governor of Georgia, which his party had offered him at a critical moment. It had been the desire of the "Great Commoner" to "die in harness," and there is no doubt that his close attention to the arduous duties of Governor hastened his death. Thousands of Georgians repaired to the State Capitol to honor his memory, but he who attracted most attention was the gray and grief-stricken companion who stood by the coffin of the man he had honored for fifty years. Mr. Stephens, in his diary, recalls the fact that his first meeting with Mr. Toombs was in court, when the latter generously offered to lend him money and look after his practice so that Stephens could take a trip for his health.

Like Damon and Pythias, these two men were bound by the strongest ties. They entered public life together in the General Assembly of Georgia. Together they rode the circuits as young attorneys, and each was rewarded about the same time with a seat in the national councils. Both were conspicuous in the ante-bellum agitation, and both were prominent in the Civil War. As age advanced their relations were closer still.

General Toombs at the funeral of his friend pronounced a eulogium on the dead. His words were tremulous, and the trooping, tender memories of half a century crowded into the anguish of that moment. Toombs and Stephens, so long united in life, were not long parted in death.

In September, 1883, Mrs. Toombs died at her summer residence in Clarkesville, Ga. Their devoted friend, Dr. Steiner, was with them at the time, and rendered the double offices of family physician and sympathetic friend. Between these two men there had been a warm and long friendship. Dr. Steiner talked with General Toombs about his spiritual condition. A godly man himself, the doctor thought that he might remove any doubts that might linger in the mind of the stricken husband. He was gratified to hear that the way was clear. "Why, doctor," said General Toombs, "I am a prayerful man. I read the Bible and the Prayer Book every day." "Then why not be baptized, General?" "Baptize me, doctor," was his prompt reply. Dr. Steiner answered that there was no immediate need of that. The general was in good health. Dr. Steiner had baptized patients, he said, but it was in times of emergency. It was the desire of General Toombs to be baptized at the bedside of his wife. In a short time Robert Toombs was in communion with the Southern Methodist Church. It was his wife's beautiful example, "moving beside that soaring, stormy spirit, praying to God for blessings on it," which brought him to a confession of his faith, and left him in full fellowship with God's people.

General Toombs' health commenced visibly to fail after his wife's death, and the loss of Mr. Stephens made life lonely. His younger brother Gabriel, himself in the shadow of a great affliction, was with him constantly. They were devotedly attached to each other. Mr. Gabriel Toombs is, in personal appearance, very much like his brother. The long, iron-gray hair, brushed straight out from his head, reminds one of Robert Toombs. He is smaller in stature, and is a man of strong abilities, even temperament, and well-balanced mind. His brother had great regard for his business judgment and political sagacity, and often consulted him on public matters. These men lived near each other in Washington, their families grew up together, and General Toombs regarded his brother's children almost as he did his own.

On the 30th of September, 1885, Robert Toombs was confined to his house by illness. It was a general breaking down of his whole system. It was evident that he was nearing his end. During his last illness his mind would wander, and then his faculties would return with singular clearness. He suffered little pain. As Henry Grady said of him, it seemed that this kingly power and great vitality, which had subdued everything else, would finally conquer death. His ruling instinct was strong in dissolution. He still preserved to the last his faculty of grasping with ease public situations, and "framing terse epigrams, which he threw out like proverbs."

During one of his lucid intervals he asked for the news. He was told; "General, the Georgia Legislature has not yet adjourned."

"Lord, send for Cromwell," he answered, as he turned on his pillow.

Another time he was told that the Prohibitionists were holding an election in the town. "Prohibitionists," said he, "are men of small pints."

His mind at this period dwelt mainly on serious thoughts. The Bible was read to him daily. He was perfectly aware of his condition. He said to Dr. Steiner: "Looking over my broad field of life, I have not a resentment. I would not pang a heart."

He talked in his delirium of Mr. Stephens and Dr. Steiner. The latter recalled him and said: "General, I am here by your side; Mr. Stephens, you know, has crossed over the river." Coming to himself, he said: "Yes, I know I am fast passing away. Life's fitful fever will soon be over. I would not blot out a single act of my life."

Dr. Steiner declared that he never before realized so fully the appropriateness of Mr. Stephens' tribute to Toombs; "His was the greatest mind I ever came in contact with. Its operations, even in its errors, remind me of a mighty waste of waters."

When the time came for Dr. Steiner to return to his home in Augusta, General Toombs bade him good-by. "I am sorry," said he, "the hour is come. I hope we shall meet in a better place."

After Thursday, December 10, General Toombs did not regain consciousness. On Monday, December 15, 1885, at 6 o'clock p.m., he breathed his last. Just as the darkness of a winter evening stole over the land the great spirit of the statesman walked into eternal light.

He was buried on Thursday, December 18, at twelve o'clock. The funeral exercises were held in the little brick Methodist church where his wife and daughter had worshiped.

The funeral was simple, according to his wishes. A large number of public men in Georgia attended the services. Dr. Hillyer, a prominent Baptist divine and classmate of General Toombs, assisted in the services. Rt. Rev. John W. Beckwith, Episcopal Bishop of Georgia, who had been his closest religious adviser after the death of the Methodist Bishop George F. Pierce, delivered a beautiful eulogium.

The remains were interred in the Washington cemetery, by the side of the body of his wife. A handsome marble shaft, bearing the simple and speaking inscription "Robert Toombs," marks the spot which is sacred to all Georgians.

THE END.