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homes, children without fathers, fathers without children-and confronting this awful condition the people of the old State lifted their stricken heads and declared that they would face the future with the same patient courage that they had the past. It was upon the history of the State at that time, that young Segar left his impress. There are few heroes in the world, who happily unite unflinching physical courage with that higher moral courage, which dares to do right, because it is right, such a man was Arthur S. Segar; true in all the relations of life; as a lawyer he was courteous, strong, brave and always fair; as a citizen, without reproach; as a Christian, humble and devout, and when the dread summons came, he could "wrap the drapery of his couch about him, and lie down to pleasant dreams."

Mr. Segar for many years represented three of the largest corporations in the State, and yet he died a poor man. Not many weeks before his death, he said to the writer, that, if he had known how to charge, he would have been a rich man. On the 28th day of November last he died very suddenly. In the very zenith of his powers, he was stricken down without premonition, but the dread summons did not find him unprepared, for his life had been an epistle known and read of all who came in contact with him.

As the telegraph flashed abroad the sad news that the gallant soldier, the patriotic statesman, the learned and brilliant lawyer and the devout Christian was no more, many a head was bowed in grief, but we grieved not as those without hope, for we cherish the fond trust of one day meeting him beyond the stars. The astronomers tell us that there are some stars so far above the earth that long after they have disappeared in space their light is still coming to the earth, and so there are some men whose characters are so high that long after they have left the earth the light of their lives is still falling upon the pathway of men. "Though dead, they yet speak." Such a man was Arthur S. Segar; one who stood "four square to every wind that blew." We can stand with uncovered heads at his grave and say, here

lies a "MAN." Cut off in the fullness of his powers and usefulness, we mourn his departure, because it will be difficult to fill his place, because a useful man, an ornament to society is

gone.

"He is gone to the mountain,

He is lost to the forest,

Like a summer-dried fountain

When our need was the sorest."

The writer feels how inadequate are words to express his thoughts and feelings, and lays this leaflet on the new-made grave of a dear friend.

MARYUS JONES.

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