like sweetness too long drawn out. And, perhaps, few could resist the
feeling that no human being ever really deserved such "largeness of
love." But they seem so real, they ring so true, that the conviction
grows almost to a certainty that here was one who drew men to him by the
incarnate sweetness and nobility of his nature. "Doubtless," writes his
friend, and co-worker in the Sanitary Commission, Dr. Henry W. Bellows,
"he had his own consciousness of imperfection and sin - for he was
human, but I have yet to know and yet to hear the first suggestion of
what his faults and errors were."

In no spirit of fulsome adulation did a prominent San Franciscan write,
on the Sunday following King's departure to "what lies beyond," these
tender words, "Bells sadly ringing this Sabbath morning remind me that
one pulpit stands empty; and that it must stand empty, to all intents
and purposes, until the church walls crumble, and pulpit, pillars, and
all are resolved into dust."

Another prominent resident of the State, writing a half century later, -
seeing all after the sobering lapse of years, writing as though the
cloud of sorrow for his friend had never been lifted, thus pays his
sincere tribute of respect:

"And so, in the prime of life, at the zenith of his achievement, before
its noon, this sweet, great soul passed away, leaving to those who loved
him, dust and anguish. Well do we remember that almost at his death a
minor earthquake shook the city, and men said, 'Even the earth shudders
at the thought that Starr King is dead.' "

Of the many poetical tributes, two at least, are of permanent
significance. One by his friend Bret Harte, dear companion of those