The conductor on an English railway once overcharged him a shilling for fare.  He promptly complained to the directors, and had the man discharged.  “Not,” said he, “that I could not afford to pay the shilling, but the man was cheating many travelers to whom the swindle would be offensive.”

Several years ago he chanced to ride in a hack in Salem, Massachusetts, and upon reaching his destination tendered the driver his usual fee of fifty cents.

“Here’s your change, sir,” said the man, handing him back fifteen cents.

“Change!” exclaimed Mr. Peabody; “why, I’m not entitled to any.”

“Yes, you are; I don’t charge but thirty-five cents for a ride in my hack.”

“How do you live, then?”

“By fair dealing, sir.  I don’t believe in making a man pay more than a thing is worth just because I have an opportunity.”

Mr. Peabody was so much pleased with this reply, that as long as he remained in Salem he sought this man out and gave him his custom.

In his dress Mr. Peabody was simple and unostentatious.  He was scrupulously neat and tasteful, but there was nothing about him to indicate his vast wealth.  He seldom wore any jewelry, using merely a black band for his watch-guard.  Display of all kinds he abominated.

He made several visits to his native country during his last residence in London, and commemorated each one of them by acts of princely munificence.  He gave large sums to the cause of education, and to religious and charitable objects, and made each one of his near kindred wealthy.  None of his relatives received less than one hundred thousand dollars, and some were given as much as three times that sum.  He gave immense sums to the poor of London, and became their benefactor to such an extent that Queen Victoria sent him her portrait, which she had caused to be executed for him at a cost of over forty thousand dollars, in token of her appreciation of his services in behalf of the poor of her realm.

Mr. Peabody made another visit to the United States in 1866, and upon this occasion added large sums to many of the donations he had already made in this country.  He remained here until May, 1867, when he returned to England.  He came back in June, 1869, but soon sailed again for England.  His health had become very feeble, and it was his belief that it would be better in the atmosphere of London, to which he had been so long accustomed.  His hope of recovery was vain.  He failed to rally upon reaching London, and died in that city on the 4th of November, 1869.

The news of his death created a profound sadness on both sides of the Atlantic, for his native and his adopted country alike revered him as a benefactor.  The Queen caused his body to be placed in a vault in Westminster Abbey, amidst the greatest and noblest of her kingdom, until all was in readiness for its transportation to the United States in a royal man-of-war.  The Congress of the United States authorized the President