“Recently my travels took me to the quiet, yet beautiful, city of New Albany, Ind., and while walking through its shady streets I remembered that the former home of Mr. C. C. Hine, the well-known underwriter, the accomplished writer, the able statistician, and the eloquent orator, was in this identical city. That here, when a local agent, he distributed blotting pads and cultivated the art of soliciting, which has served him many a good turn in later years. Here the foundation was laid for the broader work which fate had in store for him. The bright, young Hoosier, full of wit and good humor, was to become the grave and thoughtful ‘Patriarch’, honored and beloved as a leader in his chosen profession. “There is a ‘touch of nature’ in us all, which inspires a curiosity to know something of those who have succeeded in life—who have become distinguished. That a great humorist should have wept at the tomb of Adam was to me no joke, provided that the spot selected was the genuine burial place of that eminent citizen. Who would not like to walk in the garden where Plato conversed, or view the forum from which Cicero spoke? To visit Avon and spend a day where Shakespeare sleeps will always be indeed a pleasure. Who, that is thoughtful, goes to Springfield, or Galena, without seeing the modest houses where Lincoln and Grant lived, when unhonored and unknown. “With this feeling, I sought and found the little, old-fashioned brick building, where, a third of a century ago, was the insurance office of Mr. Hine. On the side of the hill, a few blocks away, was the unassuming dwelling house, where the young agent lived in comfort and dignity, surrounded by a most loving family, and respected and esteemed by neighbors, many of whom have themselves since become known throughout the United States as wise statesmen, brave soldiers and honorable business men. “While in New Albany I was told many anecdotes illustrating Mr. Hine’s goodness of heart, fondness for children and devotion to charitable and Christian work. These cannot be repeated at this time. The following, however, told me by an old citizen, illustrates a type of manhood that, I fear, is becoming rarer each year, and is in danger of becoming, in time, entirely extinct:—