North threw themselves into this campaign has never been equaled, and contributed much to the successful outcome of the election. No one of these enthusiasts was more zealous than the youthful Burrows, who delivered impassioned speeches on the stump, and cast for Lincoln his earliest Presidential ballot. The election of the Republican candidate brought to Burrows the keenest satisfaction of his life; for his ideals had been realized, and that was the justification of his consecration. Within two years the young enthusi

ast found further opportunity to give tangible evidence of his loyalty and devotion, for he was among the first to offer himself in the defense of his country.

It is difficult for us who have learned the history of our Nation in the midst of comfort and safety to appreciate how deep-rooted become those lessons which are learned first-hand in the smoke of political controversy, or on the bloody battlefields of a civil war. It is easy for us, looking backwards, to criticise a Party which has from time to time been torn by internal corruption, and has indisputably erred in judgment: it is easy for us to question the sincerity of any man who stands by his Party through thick and thin for sixty years; but when one follows Burrows through these years of Party loyalty and discovers his unswerving integrity to principle, his constant fight against the individual betrayal of the high

ideals for which his Party stood at birth,—all doubt of sincerity vanishes, and one is forced to admiration not unmixed with wonder that so consistent and so straight a path as his could be preserved.

Julius Cæsar was the seventh son of William Burrows, a native of Connecticut, and Maria B. Smith, who came from Massachusetts. They moved to a farm at Busti, Chautauqua County, New York, soon after their marriage, and later to Grahamville, North East Township, Erie County, Pennsylvania, where the namesake of the famous Roman Emperor was born on January 9, 1837. His name was always a source of mortification to him, but it was an expression of his mother's fervid imagination, an attribute which he inherited from her to a marked degree. The names of his six brothers and his one sister included Hannibal Hamilton, Jerome Bonaparte, Christopher Columbus, Sylvester Solomon, Adrian Addison, William Riley, and Almeda. Once, a good many years later, some one asked Senator Burrows if his father was a student of history.

"No," he answered; "but my mother was. I have detested 'highfaluting' names and titles all my life. I have invariably parted my hair on the side, and have been plain Mr. Burrows ever since coming to the Senate. It was a mistake to tag my brothers and me

the way they did.”

William Burrows, of Scotch-English descent, was a sturdy specimen of New England manhood, a pronounced Free-Soil Whig in politics and a "hardshelled" Baptist in religion; but we may judge which conviction stood closer to his conscience when we learn that when his Church attempted to criticize his outspoken opposition to slavery, he promptly transferred his spiritual allegiance to another denomination. As the boys grew up, the anti-slavery question was the leading topic discussed in their hearing. At home, it was as regularly a part of the daily routine as the morning and evening prayers,—each one of the seven sons taking his turn at reading aloud from the latest New York Tribune, which was the breath craved by Father Burrows' nostrils. In place of the theater or the photoplay of today, the boys found their chief diversion in the debating societies, but as tolerated listeners only, and many a thrill was experienced from the heat of the debates between their excited fathers and elder brothers.

Father Burrows did not believe in higher education, but he neglected no opportunity for his sons to hear every great political speaker who came within driving distance of his home town, and for them to walk ten miles and back was no unusual occurrence. One gala day in the Burrows household was when Fred Douglass, the colored orator, arrived at Graham