become a preacher changed at this point to an absolute determination to make himself a public speaker, and to enter public life. The extemporary pulpit of chairs and wood-box was metamorphosed into a rostrum, from which he now addressed his youthful audiences upon political subjects instead of the spiritual themes which had previously been his wont; and he modeled his delivery as closely upon that of Webster as a seven-year-old boy could.

So the child developed into the boy-man at an age when most children are still playing with their toys, his mind centered upon the big things of life rather than upon trivialities. The evolution had been wisely guided at the beginning by a father who himself took life seriously, and who taught his children their greatest lesson by the example he set them of devotion to a cause and sincerity of purpose in living up to every obligation imposed by the principles involved. The later influences under which Julius came could not have fitted more accurately into Father Burrows' scheme had he been permitted to control them, and the response made by the boy, then later by the man, gave evidence of his natural tendency toward the work to which he devoted his life.

Of the other sons, two also responded to the early influences by going into politics, but to a lesser degree than their more famous brother. Jerome Bonaparte

Burrows became a distinguished lawyer, and later a judge of the supreme court of Ohio. He was a resident of Painesville, Lake County, Ohio, which township adjoins Mentor, where was the home of James A. Garfield, and between these two men there existed the most intense political rivalry, both being candidates for Congress from the famous "Nineteenth District." Many thought Jerome Burrows had the better chance of election, but his previous persistent and successful efforts to secure an acquittal of a client in a long-celebrated case cost him the support of Ashtabula County, and Garfield was elected. Had Jerome Burrows won in this seemingly local contest, it would have changed the history of the United States, as Garfield would probably have been unknown beyond the limits of his own State.

Sylvester Solomon Burrows became a practicing physician, but he possessed many of the attributes which make a statesman. He lived in Geneva, Ashtabula County, Ohio, which is about fifteen miles east of Painesville. For some years he served his constituents as a member of the State senate, where he made a reputation as a debater, and demonstrated a ready understanding of parliamentary law and usage. Dr. Burrows was a man who always had the courage of his convictions, and, with him, as with Jerome, policy was a matter of secondary consideration.

Although an ardent Republican, unlike his brothers Dr. Burrows embraced the doctrine of Free Silver. When the Republican Committee of Ohio summoned Senator Burrows into the State to speak in behalf of Bushnell and Hanna, the Senator found his brother making Free Silver speeches of the most rabid nature. Whenever Julius made a "Sound Money" speech, his brother followed the next day, contesting every point. The Saturday night before election Senator Burrows addressed a monster Republican meeting in Music Hall, Cleveland. Dr. Burrows announced through the press that on Monday evening, in the same place, he would reply to his brother. Music Hall was packed, and the Doctor's audience thoroughly enjoyed the good-natured but energetic attack upon the Senator's basic principles. But whatever political differences might exist, there was always the warmest fraternal feeling between all the brothers; for the Burrowses were clannish. For many years there was an annual reunion of the brothers at Jerome's home, and the occasion was always one of rare pleasure for those friends who were fortunate enough to be included.

In 1850 Father Burrows and his family removed to another farm near Kingsville, Ashtabula County, Ohio, but let us listen to the story as Burrows himself tells it: "We left Grahamville and bought a

farm in the famous Nineteenth District of Ohio, which was represented in Congress by Joshua R. Giddings, and, at a later date, by James A. Garfield, and which was also the home of Senator Benjamin F. Wade, the furious abolitionist. Money was scarce, markets were few and far apart, farm products had to be traded to merchants for calico and other goods. I received a little money by peeling apples and drying them in the sun. I milked five cows twice a day, and walked three miles to the Academy at Kingsville. In Winter I did chores at a man's house for my board, but I secured a room at the Academy, sweeping the building and ringing the bell for my tuition. My mother gave me a bed and a box-stove, and I did my own cooking. My food came from the farm, and was prepared on the stove in my room by frying the pork on the top and roasting the potatoes in the ashes; but occasionally I went home, four miles away, for a square meal.

"On Wednesdays we had rhetoricals. A teacher named Drake seemed to take pleasure in criticising and humiliating me before my fellow-students. One day I opened on Drake in an outrageous speech. He ordered me off the platform, following the command, when I didn't go, with a push. The girls screamed and the boys laughed. Then I went outside and finished my speech on the fence."

There are still living several who remember the old days in Kingsville Academy. Norris L. Gage, of Ashtabula, Ohio, in a letter to his brother Stephen, who was a student there at the same time as the Burrows boys, writes of this period:

"I persuaded my mother to allow me to attend the exhibition which took place in the Baptist Church at the close of the Fall term at Kingsville Academy. I had no shoes, but that mattered not, as boys of nine or ten years were not expected to wear shoes until snow commenced to fly in November. The fact that I had no coat I knew was a substantial drawback, but I had a sort of calico vest, and my mother had carefully prepared a clean white shirt which, with linen trousers and a cap, completed my outfit for the occasion. When ready to start I was much astonished, on looking down at myself, to see what a white and ghostlike appearance I presented. My mother, however, encouraged me my saying that if I behaved as well as I looked all would be well, and I started with a light heart and nimble feet.

"I remember one incident of a startling nature. It seems that as a climax one of the Burrows boys, either 'Rome' or Julius Cæsar, was to declaim a piece called "The Maniac.' He had stationed himself in the hall, and when his name was called he jumped and struck open door with fists and feet, making a great

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