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SWINGING ON A BIRCH TREE
DY LUCY LARCOSL
Swinging one birch tree
To a sleepy tune,
Hummed by all the breezes
In the month of June!
Little leaves a-flutter
Sound like dancing drops
Of a brook on pebbles—
Song that never stops.
Up and down we seesaw;
Up into the sky ;
How It opens on us,
!Ake a wild blue eye I
You and I are sailors
Rocking on a mast;
And the world's our vessel ;
Ho I she calls so fatal
Blue, blue sea around us;
Not a ship ht sight;
They will hang out lanterns
When they pass, to-night,
We will ours will follow
ThrOugh the midnight deep;
Not a thought of danger,
Though the crew's asleep.
U, Dow still the air is
There an oriole dew ;
What aiolly whistle I
He's a sailor too,
Yonder Is his hammock
In the elm-top high;
Ulm more ballad, malamute I
tilug 11as you lly I
Up and klown we /400-NUW
Down Into the grase,
Itioented tern, and roue-bade,
All a woven mane,
That'n thu Hort, of carpet
Fitted for our feet ;
Tapentry nor velvet
In no riuli and neat,
liwinging on u birch tree!
Thin In Nanning Joy,
Fun for all vacation—
Don't you think nu, buy?
11.1.111 down to 1100•NUW,
Merry and at wine;
CMII3II9IH on a brook In,
idle an the bre ze,
—Our Yuung Polky for Mine
iltevaq.
"The Best Man Wins Iter."
Hid away in the loveliest part of
Perthshire, nestling among the often
' sung Braes of Balquhidder, lies Loch
Voel, upon the shores of which Rob
Roy lived and died; and where, in the
quiet, lonely kirkyard rests "Clan Al
pin's omen and her aid." There are
M'Gregors still in the clachan of Bal
quhidder, M'Gregors who speak with
glistening eye and heightened color of
the chief, and amongst whom no tales
are so popular as those which treat of
the wild days when the clan with the
" name nameless by day " was at once
the terror and protection of the country.
Every child knows the story of the
feuds between the M' barens and the
- M'ardgors, and how the Stewarts of Ap
pin, coming to help their kinsmen,
were met by the clansmen at the cla
chan, where Rob Roy challenged any
one of Appin to single combat, eager,
by even such personal hazard, to avert
the horrors of a battle. They will tell
you, too, how the great Duke of Athol
exhausted his time and patience trying
to catch Rob Roy ; and the story of the
funeral, when Lady Glenfalloch, think
ing her brother was slain, sprang upon
the Duke, and, dragging him from his
horse, gave him such a taste of the ten
derness of the M'Gregors that he took
timely warning and retired, leaving
Rob to bury his mother in peace and
quiet.
Some tea years ago a descendant of Rob
Roy's, Helen M'Uregor, was the beau
ty of Balquhidder. Helen was a fair,
blue-eyed, golden-haired lassie, with
whom life had been one long laugh, and
to whom the world seemed to bear
neither frowns nor clouds. Her father,
Tam M'Uregor, was a farmer, and well
to•do for his station ; his sons helped
him on the hills, and Helen was a tidy
hand In the house, quite able to take
many cares from her mother's shoulders.
Their cottage stood away from the
claithan, near the footof the Meal-mach.
A lovely little steading it was too, with
high gt•ay rocks on one side, on the
other an oak and birch wood, among the
branches of which the soft summer
breezes, when they had kissed the lake
into a ripple of delight, would sigh, and
whisper their pleasant songs of brighter
and warmer lands.
'l'am's cottage had served the wants of
many a generation of M'Gregor's, here
a little and there a little being added, as
the owner's family increased or his for
tunes prospered. The thatch was mat
ted together by a flourishing growth
of various plants, wallflowers and
house-leek predominating. Roses and
honeysuckle flourished in the nar
row border, and, clustering round the
wlndoWs, met gay and thriving gera
slllLlMS, votive offerings from the gar
dener at Glenbuckie, who was one of
Helen's many admirers. Helen, being
fancy-free herself, was wont to make a
joke about love; and not caring for
either fairs or gatherings, escaped much
of the gossip which attaches to other
girls. Yet, quietly as the little maiden
lived, she could no more avoid lovers
than can the violet hide away her
treasures from the bee. " Love will
venture in whar he darna weel be seen,"
and accordingly Helen's lovers were
neither few nor slack in making their
way to the farm; while, much to the
girl's discomfort, her mother took pride
to herself in counting the stalwart, well
to-do lads who would take a place by
the Ingle-nook, and while talking to
the farmer of the ewes, wool, and mar
kets, would hope to catch astray glance,
kinder than usual, from Helen ; who,
however, went on with her spinning
as if no eyes were seeking hers,
and there were no such thing as
love or wooing. And many a lad doubt
less thought with Hobble Elliott, that
" whirling a bit stick wi' a thread trail
ing to it," was but poor and tiresome
Work.
One man came oftener than the rest,
so often that it was whispered about
that Helen and Duncan were courting,
nor did Duncan attempt to deny what
he wished in his inmost heart was true.
He had loved Helen long, and had only
waited for a farm to enter the lists
openly. Now lie had a farm and decent
house to take a wife. to, he thought the
right Lime had come ; and soon, seeing
he had the good will of both father and
mother, he was content to wait patiently
until some happy day when Helen's
heart would waken up, and his love
meet its reward. .A.nd if Duncan was
patient, it was because, never having
doubted his success, he experienced a
sort of gratification in beating down his
passion, or anticipating from a distance
the time when Helen would spin by his
own hearth, and pay him back tenfold
foi,yvhat she made him suffer now.
The honest folks in Balquhidder called
Helen a lucky lassie, and watched the
courting with general interest, not un
mixed with envy, for Duncan was one
of the handsomest and steadiest of the
young men ; more than that, and what
• perhaps went even further among the
girls, Duncan was the champion
wrestler, runner, and hammer-thrower,
and twice had he carried off' prizes from
the Braemar Gathering. Duncan's
courting had made no further impression
upon Helen when the Gathering of 185—
drew on. All the world went to Braemar
that year, and Duncan, much to his own
surprise and the indignation of the Bal
quhidder people, was beaten both in
wrestlingand throiting by anew-comer,
a young man who, by his superior style
of dress and manner of speech, was evi
dently from a different part of the coun
try, if not indeed of a different rank in
We to that of the irate young High
lander; and when standing hot and
.angry after his last failure, he was by no
means comforted by seeing Helen's
.cheeks redden before the glances of the
victor, who, cap In hand, introduced
himself to Tam M'Gregor as the son of
his old friend, Niel Lesley and saying
.that he had come to the Gathering on
his way to Balquhidder, his father hay
,ing told him of the sheep-farming
-there, and how, for auld acquaintance
sake, he might be lucky enough to get
his lesson in the management of flocks
from Tam himself, a lesson he meant to
put in practice as a farmer in Australia.
Tamwas pleasedto find.his friendhad not
.forgotten him, nor was he proof against
,the compliment neatly offered to his
farming skill. Moreover there is never
a lack of hospitality among the Celts,
and Tam made his young friend wel
--come to the best his house afforded so
:long as he liked to stay.
Niel was a fair-haired, blue-eyed man,
A. J. STEINMAN
VOLUME 68
tall and light-limbed, but with the
muscles and sinews of a prize-fighter.
He had been at the High School in
Edinburg, was well up in modern
topics, and able to hold forth upon sub
jects which rarely reached the ears of
the inhabitants of the Braes except
when theshooting season broug ht down
the great folk, and the great fol brought
their servants ; then politics, parlia
ments, and the court were familiarly
discussed in every shieling.
Niel was no idler, either in work, or
play, or love. Everything he set his
hand to he did in the manner, we are
told, is sure to succeed. No won deri that
falling in love, as he did at once, he
roused what poor Duncan had watched
and waited for lu vain ; and, waking up
the sleeping heart, brought the love
light into the sweet hazel eyes, that sof
tened and drooped now ats they had
never done before any man's gaze.—
There was no question of love speech
between the two, and yet, before the
H
summer came, elen had found out
what a different place love could make
the world. There had never been such
heather on the hills, or bracken and
wild roses on the braes, as now bloomed ;
the love filter was acting, and nature
took tone, as it always does, from the
heart.
"How bonnleyou'regrowing, Nelly,"
said Tom one day, as Helen came run
ning up the grass, her hair escaping
from the sky-blue snood, the gay cotton.
short gown coming half way down the
striped linsey petticoat, which was Just
short enough to show her neatly-clad
feet and shapely ankles, coquettishly ar
rayed in bright stockings, with elabor
ately embroidered clocks. "What's
come to the lassie, wife ? She's breakin'
the hearts of half the lads in the place.
There's Duncan,
puir lad, dent a smile
he'll gle now, but gangs as dour--."
" Wheesht, faither !" cried Helen,
shutting his mouth with a rosy little
palm. ' Here's Duncan cotnin'. '
As she spoke Duncan stalked up to
the door. It was easy to see that some
thing had gone against the grain ; the
expression of his face, the tone of his
voice, his very gait were changed; his
clothes were thrown on with a careless-
ness unlike former days, awl his eyes,
restless and bloodshot, turned uneasily
to Helen, as he made some common
place remark to her father concerning
the weather.
Helen's color deepened. Something
in the man's eyes struck like a knife to
her heart, and lay there rankling,
making the hot blood spring to her face,
and the hand that had been on her
father's mouth clench fiercely as if to
beat back some burst of angering lndig-
nation. But the flush faded the next
moment, and a shudder shook her from
head to foot for Niel came in from the
hill, and as he turned the corner of the
hedge, and Duncan's eyes fell upon
him, Helen saw the thick black brows
drawn passionately together, the big
veins start like knotted cords, and the
strong teeth set hard in the nether lip.
She saw this, and even then her heart
sunk with au undefined fear; but it
was not until some days afterwards,
when the braes were ringing with the
mysterious disappearance of Niel Les
ley, that the full significance of that
look was revealed to her.
- illauy and various were the reports
circulated, until by the expiration of
four days they all settled down into one
strong judgment against Niel,—a judg
ment which Helen's outburst of grief
and pale stricken face unwittingly
strengthened ; and it was firmly be—
lieved that Niel, having won her love,
had grown tired of her, and, to rid him
self of her and his debt of gratitude to
her father at once, had made a moon
light flitting. Duncan ,openly took
little part in all that was said, so much
so, that those busy people who are al
ways, In all ranks, looking after their
neighbors' affairs, began to hold him
up as an example •of unselfish
generosity. There was one, however,
to whom his silence had a different
signification, and that was Helen, who,
from•the day the alarm was given, had
remembered that afternoon when she
saw, as plainly as if written in black and
white, the hatred unto death stamped
in Duncan's face. She alone, watching
as none other could, heard the impa
tient manner of speech, and saw the
strange look that had come upon the
man's face ; and a horrible suspicion
and dread filled her mind, harder to
bear than all the cruel things raised
against Niel's character. There was one
small ray of comfort left,—a colley dog
she had given Niel had disappeared the
same day he was misses. He must be
alive if Moss was with him ; and :if he
had run away, as the people said, he
would scarcely take such a continual
sting to his conscience, as the faithful
dog must be. So, in spite of the deadly
fears that would at times overwhelm
her, Helen held fast by hope, hiding her
anxiety as best she could by getting
away amongst the hills, andwandcring
about where she would meet no one to
pity or condole with her.
The fifth day had come ; it was a busy
time, too, for they were gathering the
flocks off the hills previous to the shoot
ing season, and so it came about that
Helen fell in with a flock in a lonely
pass on the road to Ben Ledi, and, ea
ger to escape the shepherds, she scram
bled up the banks and hid herself
among the whins.
Down the pass came the sheep, filling
the air with their voices, stopping now
and then to snatch a mouthfulof heath
er. Presently, glancing away to the
hillside, Helen caught sight of a dog
bounding down over scaur and bush;
but not until itwas nearer, and diverted
by the sounds in the glen, had turned
aside and taken its stand upon a rock
along the foot of which the sheep were
passing, did she recognize her old col
ley, the ver' Moss she had given Niel.
Helen's heart leapt to her mouth as she
leant forward to watch the dog, who,
falling into his old trade, stood yelping
and howling over the flock, waking
every echo in the pass, and rousing a
perfect storm of bleating.
Helen tried to whistle, but her lips
were shaking and dry. Then she called
him by name. The dog came rushing
up to her, and was soon whining at her
side, licking her hands and face. As
soon as she could see anything clearly
through the tears that were blinding
her, she saw that a blueribbon was tied
round Moss' neck, nearly hidden
amongst the thick wool. Helen recog
nized the ribbon ; it had once been
hers; and she knew im hand but Niel's
could have tied it there, and—. But
suddenly she ceased thinking. She had
unfastened the string, and found a little
bit of white calico, and read on it, writ
ten in blood, the words, "Help ! .Reiv
er's Crag."
Helen cannot tell to this day how she
got home ; but in little more than half
an hour the clachan was deserted, and
men and women were all on their, way
to the Reivef's Crag, a barren rock
among the mountains, from which'it
was said a Cumbeland reiver had been
flung in the old days. The miles of
moss and muirland were soon crossed,
and by evening Niel Lesley was rescued
from a living death, and safe, but not
sound, at Tam M'Gregor's. Sound, poor
ladlthey whispered he never would be
again.
"He had slipped over the Crag, and
in going down had caught at a whin
bush, which checked the impetusof his
descent, and instead of going to the
bottom of the cleft, he had fallen on a
ledge. Here Moss Mid followed, but it
was the fourth day before he could get
the faithful dog to leave him, and bear
home tidings that might save him."
Such was the account Niel gave, and
such was the story that met Duncan as
he came home from Callander, whither
he had gone early in the day.
Time passed on, and the shooting sea
son
brought many a visitor to Tam's
cottage, for Niel's story was the romance
of the year. He was still unable to
walk, but his health was all right, and
the doctors said he might get strong
again in time. Niel never complained,
nor could he, with such a nurse as Helen
fluttering roundlim, propping him up
with fragrant pillows stuffed with fresh
gathered heather and bracken, gather
ed, too, by the little hands that were so
strong and ready with their labor of
love. It was only when pain kept him
restless at night that the thought of be
ing a cripple for life crushed him, and
brought out all the training given by a
good mother, and the stanoh religious
feeling inherent in almost every Scot
tish heart, the spirit that gave Lhe world
what Alexander Peden called "the pray
ing folk," who carried their religion
triumphantly through those terrible
days when a bloody scaffold was thought
a ! ood shelter.
t was nearly a month since the day
Niel had been carried home from the
Crag. Night had just come, still,
warm, and almok like twilight. Tam
was smoking his pipe preparatory to
his early bedtime, the women folk were
knitting, and Niel, lying upon a couch
the laird's sister had sent him, was
reading "Rob Roy" aloud much to
interrupted
manyper:dexity, who
many times with denunciations against
the text. Suddenly the open doorway
darkened, and Duncan stood in the
entry.
"Welcome, lad," cried Tam. "Ye're
jist in time to hear the havers they bulk
folk pit in prent aboot the M'Gregors.
Read that again, Niel, that whar he
says— H
But Duncan interrupted him.
"I didna cross the door to hear lees
read. I cam to speak about a les, to tell
ye"—and his voice grew louder and
hoarser as he spoke—"to tell ye that
ane:ye liked weel is a ler. We're a'frien's
here" he said, in a different voice,
looking around.
"Ay, ay, man. Sit doon," said Tam,
taking his pipe out of his mouth, and
turning to have a better look at Dun
can. 'Why what ails ye, man?"
" Mickle ails me, Tam M'Gregor, and
I cam on a grousome errand. I has
come to tak' awn' ye're faith in man
for evermair, and to shame a hypocrite
wl' the fair truth."
Helen laid down her knitting and
drew nearer Niel ; Tam glanced at him
too. Niel's face was crimson, and his
eyes, all dilated and eager, stared up at
the great wild-looking man, glowering
down upon him, who went on speaking.
"Niel says he slippet doon the Crag.
Ee didna slip. An enemy —"
"stop him, Helen!" shouted Niel,
trying to get up, but failing, he pushed
the girl towards Duncan. Stop him,
for God's sake! The lad's mad. He
doesn't know what he's saying. Don't
listen to him, Tam. He is a fine fellow
and you all hear me say it. Duncan,
man, shake hands with me, and do go
quietly away, and let well alone."
Duncan's answer was to drop down
upon his knees by Niel's side, and
covering his face with his hands, sob
aloud.
" Na, na, Niel, I canna let alone. I
maun tell them. Let me bide, lad ; it
's the fittest place. And when I hae
your forgiveness, I'll gang on my knees
to the Almighty ; but I canna ask Him
till I hue confessed my sin."
" Well, let me tell it, Duncan," said
Niel, gently laying his hand upon the
kneeling man's shoulder.
"No!" cried the other, sternly; "I'll
not get the warst. Tam and Helen, I
am a murderer, or as bad, for I had the
thocht in my heart to take his life.—
Niel out me oot wi' you, Nelly. Mad
wi' jealousy, I said we'd gang to the
Reiver's Crag, and light, and the best
man shall win ye. Niel wad hardly
gang till I telt him I'd ea' him through
the country-side for a coward, and then
he went. But whan I got to the top o'
the Crag, the diel got possession o' me,
and catchin' him unaware I hurled him
ower, thinking deed men tell nae tales.
I never thocht o' the colley. When I
heerd tell he was fund, I was like to
gang mad. Every fut I thocht was a
pollis ; but when the days passed, and
Niel never tauld, it was war than a'. The
hot burniu' coals were heaped on my
heed, burnin' and smotherin'P the brain
till this gloaming the thocht cam to mak
a clean breest, and then gang awa' whar
I'd never see a kenned face till the day
o' judgment. Oh! Niel man, ye ken
what loving her is; but even you canna
tell what my heart was, and how neither
bluid nor damnation were ony worth if
I could only ha' won her here. Ye
canna forgie me, Nelly lass, for I hae
made him a cripple; butjust say, ' Dun
can, I'll ask the Lord to forgie ye,' and
I'll gang awa' content."
Tam Was the last to hold out the hand
of forgiveness; but he, too, did so at
last, and then Duncan went away.
Upon the top of the bank he turned,
and, cap in hand, stood looking at the
cottage. " Puir lad 1 he's prayin', may
be," thought Mrs. M'Gregor, who had
folowed her old favorite to the door.
Two years afterwards, and a few weeks
after Niel and Helen were married, a
letter came to the former—a letter writ
ten by a comrade of Duncan's, and then
they knew for the first time that he
had enlisted, and, going to India with
one of the gallant regiments afterwards
nicknamed "sir Colin's petticoats,"
the poor broken-hearted lad had found
the death he coveted before the walls of
Lucknow, and was lying mortally
wounded in the hospital, where he
dictated his first and last letter to Niel,
bidding him good-by, and telling him
to let the Balquhidder folk know the
true story of the Reiver's Crag.
A Mystery; Still.
Nearly half a century ago, a young
fellow with a smartish air, though of a
small ill-proportioned figure, landed at
the Cape of Ciood Hope, bringing letters
of introduction to the governor of that ,
colony from a well-known eccentric
Scottish nobleman. This fair•faced
slender youth held the humble rank of
an assistant surgeon in the army.
He soon showed he possessed the
power of self-appreciation to such a de
gree as required a little taking down.
But this was found to be no easy
task. He had the faculty called, in
French, l'audacc, often a good substi
tute for ability ; but when the two go
hand in hand, they carry all before them
in one shape or other ; and as the young
surgeon was as clever as he was impu
dent, he made a position for himself,
and, what is more, he kept it.
Doctor James—we give part of his
name as it stood in the Army List iu
1865—was a physician of Edinburg di
ploma. As we shall show by and by,
he never held any regimental rank,
passing contrary, to all:precedent, to his
full surgeoncy on the staff.
By dates from unquestionable records,
he seems to have received his diploma
at the early age of fifteen. Whether
these dates corresponded with his cer
tificate of baptism it is impossible to
say, as, under all circumstances, it may
be doubtful whether such a document
ever existed.
Whatever might have been the
status of military medical men fifty
years since,James liked his calling,
and, socialy speaking, was a gen
tleman every inch of him ; though this
is not literally saying very much for
him, seeing he was but a little man.
He had a fair allowance from some
source or other ; but he never spoke of
any relatives or friends out of the mili
tary profession. His habits were too
expensive to be met by his mere pay
and allowances. He kept a horse and
a private servant, and, as a strict vege
tarian, would touch none but the most
delicate fruits of the earth. Potatoes
and apples were, to him "filthy roots ;"
the odor of cabbage turned him sick ;
but he liked peas, and craved for aspa
ragus, sea-kale, peaches, grapes, melons,
figs, custard-apples, and, above all, man
goes. Coffee was the only stimulant he
could bear, except when ill, and then
he would sip diluted champagne or
brandy, medicinally.
Some called him a toady ; but his
letter of introduction placed him at
once in the best society of the colony.
Neither had he health for general visit
ing. With those among whom he lived,
he made friends, and kept them. His
testiness was harmless, his abilities were
unquestionable; and it having been in
timated to the governor that the young
medico's duties were to be made as light
as the rules of the service would permit,
he was installed as honorary physician
to his excellency's family, and soon ob
tained such a reputation, both as a phy
sician and surgeon, that private prac
tice came to him without his seeking
it. His queer ways and irritable temper
rather increased than diminished his
prestige, and he held his own through
good report and evil report.
LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JUNE 19 1867.
When first called in to a patient, he
would have the room cleared of every
thing previously prescribed, and would
almost avariably order, aspreface to his
course of treatment, a bath of Cape
wine! Happen what might, he claimed
the whole credit of a cure, or blamed
others for a failure. He was, to be sure,
sent for at times as a last resource. If
the patient recovered, Doctor James had
all the merit; if death ensued, "Doctor
James had unfortunately been sums
monad when the case was hopeless."
His Excellency spoiled him. He be
came a kind of tame imp, encouraged
as amusing and harmless enough ; but,
like such imps, he took advantage one
day of his position, and was imperti
nent. He had the entree of the gover
nor's private cabinet. One morning,
sauntering in, he had the assurance to
make some querulous remarks on an
official document lying on the table.
Finally, he worked himself into such
an offensive pet, that his Excellency
resolved to give him alesson ; so, snatch
ing the little fellow up by the collar of
his uniform, he swung him over the
window-sill—a few feet above the grassy
garde n,--an d shook him. James screech
ed and cried peocavi. He was forgiven,
and never offended there in the same
way again. Still, every one was per
suaded that such unwarrantable humors
as he exhibited, were only tolerated by
reason of certain influences that remain
a mystery at this day. His next adven
ture might have ended his career. The
story from Government House got
bruited abroad, and much fun was
raised at Dr. James' expense. Some
laughed about it, in such a way as that
James could not but be aware of the
fact. He had been looking out for a
chance of checking the sauciness of
some of the young fellows in the garri
son, and here was the chance at last.
One morning, a tall cornet, whose
contemptuous manner had much
irritated him, was sauntering along
under the trees of a charming
walk, in one of the most public
parts of Cape Town,—where, to this
day, the people are wont to sit upon the
stoops, men smoking, women knitting,
and grave little Dutch children tod
dling up and down,—when James strut
ted up to the young dragoon: a member
of the governor's staff. James stopped
the way with a defiant air. Some
ill-conditioned person had made the
most of cornet's disparaging jests.
James was glad of this opportunity of
asserting himself. High words ensued,
the doctor's shrill voice piercing the
air, and thus drawing attention (as he
intended it should) to the encounter,
which ended in a challenge. Next
morning a quiet little duel took place.
It ended well. Hands were shaken,
and cornet and doctor became good
friends for life. If the affair ever came
to the ears of the governor, he thought
it best to ignore it, according to the
fashion of the clay.
Doctor James afforded a good illustra
tion of the triumph of mind over mat
ter. Tetchy as he was, he never excited
any professional jealousy, albeit, in de
fiance of all precedent, he was promoted
on the stall as full surgeon without
doing a day's regimental duty. Frail in
body, unique in appearance, and eccen
tric in manner, he insured respect by
his capacity ; and, as he could be courte
ous when he pleased, his oddities were
excused by his colleagues. He must
have realized at this period considerable
sums by his private practice, but he
never changed his mode of living. He
kept a black servant, a serviceable pony,
and a small dog called Psyche. Most of
Psyche's successors bore her name.
This queer quartette usually took their
walks abroad in company, and were a
well-known group at Cape Town.
On Doctor James's return to England
he was offered an appointment at
another colonial station. Here, owing
to the climate, or possibly to non-ap
preciation, he grew discontented, and,
without making any official application
for leave of absence, on plea of sickness
or " urgent private affairs," took his de
parture for England.
He would chuckle as he related the
story of his unlooked-for reappearance
before the director-general of the medi
cal department in London. "Sir," said
the doctor, "I do not understand your
reporting yourself in this fashion. You
admit you have returned without leave
of absence. May I ask how this is ?"
"Well," said James, coolly running
his long white fingers through his crisp
sandy curls, "I have come home to
have my hair cut."
He more than once defied the rules of
the service with impunity, and invari
ably boasted that he could have his
choice of quarters. And he had. He
was counted a lucky fellow ; but who
he was, or what he was, never ceased
to be a question of debate among his
brethren less fortunate than he.
It would scarcely be supposed that he
would submit to the banishment of St.
Helena, but he thought "it might suit
him very well," and he accepted it. It
did suit him very well, until he made it
too hot to hold him. The climate
Pleased him. The fruits and delicate
vegetables were strong considerations
with him. His health was more settled
than in former days, his reputation was
high, and he had brought with him his
usual letters of introduction. Despite
his shuffling gait, he might had been
an M. D. nearly twenty-four years
His smooth face, his sandy hair, his
boyish voice, and a tolerable set of teeth,
contributed essentially to his juvenile
appearance.
He was now principal me lical officer.
He installed himself in a pretty cottage
at the head of James Town, and revelled
in the tropical fruits, as many who read
this account will remember. A certain
mango-tree was his favorite bower. He
paid well for all he had, and those who
had the best opportunities of knowing
him asserted that, selfish, odd, and
cranky as he was, he had kindness for
the poor, and was charitable without
ostentation. He would go about, bestrid
ing his pony in strange fashion, with
an umbrella over his head. His saddle
was a curiosity. It was so comfortably
padded and so safely:shaped, that, once
wedged into it, it was a marvel how he
got out of it. In uniform he was a cari
cature. His boot heels were two inches
above the ground, and within the boots
were soles three inches thick. Add to
these hoots very long spurs, crown the
sandy curls with a cocked-hat, and com
plete all with a sword oig enough for a
dragoon, and you have the doctor com
plete. The pony was enveloped in a
net from ears to heels, and swung the
tassels about impatient of the gear. The
black man attended at the beast's head,
and Psyche tripped after them, the doc
tor's treble waking up the hot silence
of the one narrow street shut in by
barren rocks, and Psyche's bark making
discord at intervals.
He established himself in the old
fashion at Govermadent House, where he
was suffered to talk of his aristocratic
acquaintance, sometimes alluding to
those of other days in a manner suffi
ciently puzzling. As at Cape Town, he
became the family physician, or consid
ered himself such, and gave himself his
usual airs when called in to a private
family. He effected some great cures,
and gained the con fld en ce of his patients.
His presence at the hospital was a signal
for the juniors to be all on the alert. The
soldiers liked him and trusted in his
skill : but woe betide the laggard medico
who was not there to receive the P. M.
0., or who had swerved one hair's
breadth from his instructions.
All went on harmoniously enough for
upwards of a year, when the doctor, in
an evil movement, picked a quarrel
with an officer of the garrisen. The
affair led to a challenge, which the doc
tor declined in no dignified way, and it
was followed by his open expulsion from
the garrison mess as an honorary mem
ber. Finally, the Governor called for a
court of inquiry, which resulted in
James being sent home under arrest.
The writer of this article witnessed
his exit from James Town. On one of
those still sultry mornings peculiar to
the tropics, the measured step of the
doctor's pony woke up the echoes of the
valley. There came the P. M. 0., look
ing faded and crest-fallen. He was in
plain clothes. He had shrunk away
wonderfully. His blue jacket hung
loosely about him, his mLito trousers
were a world too wide, the veil gar
nishing his broad straw hat covered
his face, and he carried the inevitable
umbrella over his head so thatit screen•
ed' him from the general gaze. The
street was deserted, but other eyes be
sides the writer's looked on the group
through the Venetian blinds. No sentry
presented arms at the gates, and the fa
miliar quartette proceeded unnoticed
along the lines to the ship's boat in
waiting.
His influence had been at work for
him before he landed. He was re
leased from arrest, outrageous as his
conduct had been, and again had
his choice of quarters. He went
to other stations, in the trop
ics, to Greece, and the Mediterranean.
He retained his taste for Government
House society, and as he grew older got
less testy. He began to think of death
and sepulture, and would have had a
friend in the West Indies take an oath
that, if he (James) died there, he should
be burled in the garments he wore at
the time. The friend declined to swear,
but James did not quarrel with him.
His last voyage was made as an ama
teur. Our winter drove him to the West
Indies again, where he gave out "con
fidentially" that his reasons for leav
ing England were very sad ; "abroken
off engagement with a young and beau
tiful creature, and some trouble in
money matters. He had lost documents,
Jewels, and family records, on board a
vessel which had foundered at sea. He
was unhappy, and he wanted solace."
His former opponent In the duel was
commander-in•chief, and he and James
were capital friends.
'The summer of 'O4 brought him back
to England, with Black John and a little
dog, whose name was not Psyche. As
the creature is probably living, she
shall be nameless. Doctor James must
now have been quite seventy years old.
His friends of former days held by him
to the last• he was often ailing; and
the kind ladies of his Cape patron's
family would take him out driving In
the park, and would have him to din-
ner, with provision of suitable fruits
and cakes and coffee.
It was asserted that he aspired to the
honor of being a C. 8., and his new
uniform was ordered for the last levee
of the season. No doubt, his service
entitled him to some distinction ; and
his influence still existed somewhere.
One day he returned to his lodgings
from a carriage ride, shivering and
feverish. He went to bed, and de
spatched Black John with his excuses
from a dinner engagement for next day,
Sunday.
On that Sunday morning Black John
went into his master's room, as usual,
to lay opt Pis body linen. Six towels
were among the invariable items of his
toilet, and though Black John never as
sisted at it personally, he was aware
that his master wrapped these cloths
about him; whether he did so for
warmth, or to conceal any personal de
feats in his emaciated form, was a
mystery. No wonder the form was
emaciated, for James had accustomed
himself for many years to periodical
blood-lettings, either by leeches or lan
cet.
On Black John's return to the room,
he found his master worse, but nothing
would elicit his permission to send for
the medical friend who had been in
attendance on him previously, for
bronchitis. The faithful valet was
alarmed, but he and the dog were the
only watchers on the sufferer through
out the sultry July day. James lay
dozing and powerless. It was after
midnight when he rallied.
He sat up and spoke to John, wander
ing at times, and expressed concern at
his long attendance through so many
hours; he would have had John take
some slight stimulant, which the faith
ful soul declined. Suddenly James faint
ed on his pillow. The valet used resto
ratives, which revived him.
" John," gasped the invalid, " this
must be death." But John did not
think so.
" You are only weak, sir," he said
" let me give you some champaign and
water, or the least drop of brandy in a
wine-glass of water." For James would
take such stimulants ln great extremity,
He sipped a little from the glass, and
said, more gently than usual : " Have
some yourself, John ; you need it, and
you will not mind drinking after me."
They were his last distinct words.
John again declined refreshment, fear
ing he might fall asleep, but, at his mas
ter's request, went to lie down in an ad
joining room ; thinking that "the gen
eral," as James chose to be designated
by his valet, would get some rest.
Always considerate to his dependents,
"the general" had been almost tender
to John. He had spoken to him of his
lonely life. "It was not always so John,"
he had said ; "once I had many friends;
I have some still, and those are very
good to me ; but they are not the friends
of early times; they will think of me,
though, and if you want help, they will
remember you for my sake. Now go
and lie down. I think I shall sleep."
He never woke again. At daylight,
John entered the sick-room. The cur.
tains were closed, so he took the night
light and approached the bed. "The
general" had died without a struggle.
His eyes were closed. The worn fea
tures were calm. There had been ap
parently no pain.
John drew the sheet over the face,
and descended to the kitchen for a
charwoman, who he knew would be
there at that hour. He summoned her
to assist at the last toilet of the :dead
" general." As she closed the door of the
room, he retreated to his own, and laid
himself down, tired out. Hewes closing
hie eyes, when the charwoman hurried
in. " What do you mean," she said,
" by calling me to lay out a general, and
the corpse is a woman's?"
John was utterly unprepared for this,
although, like many others, he had fan
cied the " general"to be " different
from other people in some way or an
other." There had been floating sus
picions respecting the sex of the dOctoi,
but John declared he had never tho
roughly shared in them. He had lived
with the '• general" three years, and,
whatever doubt he might have had at
first, he had latterly dismissed from his
mind.
According to John's account, the poor
creature—the "old girl," as the ghastly
adept in her calling terms her—was not
treated in her last toilet with the cour
tesy she had never wanted during her
military career. Before the poor corpse
was laid in its grave, news reached the
registrar-general of the discovery, and
he at once called for a report from the
proper authority. The report was, "that
after a
. pod-mortem examination, it was
found that Doctor James, of her Ma
jesty's service, was not only a woman,
but had at a very early period of life
been a mother."
The deceased's effects were taken
possession of by accredited agents. Not
withstanding the large sums of money
she must have received as fees during
her long course of private practice, she
died penniless. The question arises,
How had she spent the fortune she had
made? As hush-money, or in support
of the child who, if still living, must
be an elderly person ?
James left no will. There was nothing
to leave, but the poor, dog. A noble
man's valet came for he animal; set
tled accounts with Black John, even to
giving him the return passage-money
to the island whence he came ; and no
one has since appeared claiming any
relationship with the eccentric being,
who was even more mysterious in death
than in life.
Doctor James was buried at Kensal
Green late in July, 1885, and is regis
tered under the name borne from the
time of his entering the army as hos
pital assistant.
Fire at Lockhaven, Pa.
LOCKHAVEN, PA., June l3.—A fire broke
out in the rear of the Fallon House, about 4
o'clock this morning, entirely destroying
White's hotel, Leser'i drug store, several
email buildings, and part of the Fallon
House. A livery stable, containing sixteen
horses, was, destroyed, and the horses all
burned. Part of Shaw, Towns tic Cc.' s steam
saw mill was also burned. The flames
spread to the adjacent lumber yard, destroy
ing 1,000,000 feet of lumber. The loss is
estimated at $40,000.
At Richmond Va., during last month,
the revenue receipts from tobacco amount
ed to #260,000.
Pim'buxom.
Democratic State Convention.
Great Harmony and Determination.
Nomination of Judge !Marmon&
The Platform, &e.
HARRIBBURo, June 11, 1867
In compliance with a resolution adopted
by the Democratic State Committee, at a
meeting held In Harrisburg on the 29th of
January last, the regular Convention of the
party for nominating a candidate for the
Supreme Bench assembled in the chamber
of the House of Representatives, and at 12
o'clooklf. was called to order by the Chair
man of the Democratic, State Committee,
Hon. Wm. A. Wallace.
By direction of the Chairman, the clerk
proceeded to call the list of delegates, when
the State was found to be fully represented,
delegates being present from every Sena
torial and Representative district.
The calling of the roll having been finish
ed, Mr. Wallace addressed the Convention
as follows:
SPEECH OF HON. W. A.
Two years since you called me to the
head of your organization. I accepted as a
duty that which I had nut sought as an
honor, and I bring you now no memories
of battles won or of victories gained, but
those of forces marshalled, of contests
waged, of principles defended.
'the Republic had just passed through a
war of gigantic proportions. Our political
foes bud wielded the physical, financial and
moral power of the whole. The soil of every
buttle•tleld had been reddened with the
blood of members of our organization, seal
ing with their life their devotion to the
Union, yet obloquy, falsehood and persecu
tion were unsparingly hurled upon us be
cause we had principles and boldly pro
claimed them, and when the historian
shall trace with impartial pen the events of
those years, he will record that we were
vilified, persecuted and defeated because
we supported the principles of free govern
ment and defended the great cardinal doc
trines of the Federal Constitution.
Peace came I ossessed of a vast military
and naval establishment, controlling the
expenditure of hundreds of millions annu
ally, with an inquisitorial revenue system
numbering its thousands and permeating
every section of the land, with the absolute
control of every branch of the civil service,
and the powerful aid of organized capital
in the hands of men who had reaped wealth
in the bloody harvest just past. Our enemy
believed and hoped that -their grasp of
power was to be perpetual, and that we
were dead and buried beyond the hope of
resurrection. The events of the past two
years have undeceived them, and they now
recognize the fact that the party they hoped
was gone forever, is organized, equipped,
and ready to grasp from their unsteady
hand the sceptre of dominion.
The basis of our unity, the germ of our
perpetuity, is the principle of self-preser
vation. Our instincts teach us to be im
mortal as a party. Individual liberty is
the priceless gem around which the Consti
tution created the casket we love. Govern
ments are made for men, not men for Gov
ernments. Men made the States. The
States and men made the Union. Both are
essential to us. The Government is one of
limited powers; limited that it may not
trample upon our rights ; limited that it
may enable us to enjoy individual liberty.
To these principles we have ever been
true, and so long as we have faith in them,
courage in their raaintenanous and hope for
our country, we have witbln us the ele
ments of success.
The past is gone, the great present is with
us. As practical men we may mould its
realities to shape the events of the future,
aid aid in regaining the highway to na-
tional prosperity.
In advancing the material progress of our
great Commonwealth, in developing her
immense resources, in fostering her indus
trial interests and in placing her in the
vanguard of the family of States, we shall
find a career worthy of the most exalted
ambition.
In resuming my place in the ranks of
your army, I maybe perknitted to return
to you my sincere thanks for the uniform
courtesy and kindness with which you
are treated me
On motion of Mr. Boileau, the Hon. D.
M. Fox was made temporary chairman of
the Convention.
The following named gentlemen were
appointed Secretaries, temporarily :
Benjamin L. Forster, J. C. Brown, E.
H. Worrell and John C. Barr.
Air. Jones offered the following resolu-
tion, which was adopted :
Resolved, That, so far as applicable, the
rules of the House of Representatives of
this State shall be the rules of this Con
vention.
A resolution was offered that a Committee
of one from each Senatorial District he
appointed to report officers for a permanent
organization of the Convention. This was
amended so as not to include the permanent
President, and was then passed.
ELECTION OF PRESIDENT
On motion, the Convention proceeded to
nominate candidates for permanent presi
dent, when the following named gentle
men were announced:
Charles E. Boyle, of Fayette; John S.
M'Calniont, of Vennngo; Hon. Jeremiah
S. Black, of York, end William Hopkins,
of Washington.
The names of J. S. M'Calmont and Wm
iopkins were subsequently withdrawn
Hon. Jeremiah S. Black also declined,
stating that he thought the Convention
needed a man in the chair who had made
parliamentary usage his study, and who in
deliberative bodies had gained the experi
ence which was necessary peculiarly to fit
him for such a position. If it were the ap
plication of rules of Court, he would not
shrink from the task, but the application of
parliamentary rules was another matter.
One man had been named whom he consid
ered eminently fit for it ; all admitted his
abilities; he:had been recently tried, and
- - was fresh from the halls of the Legislature
of the Ste te, where he had won high honors.
That man is Hon. Charles E. Boyle, of
Fayette. This most complimentary notice
of Mr. Boyle called out a burst of applause,
amid which Judge Black took his seat.
Notwithstanding the declaration of Judge
Black, a large number of delegates voted
for him.
On proceeding to a ballot, Chas. E. B * oyle
received 74 votes, Jeremiah S. Black re
ceived 44 votes.
On taking the Chair Mr. Boyle spoke as
ollows:
SPEECH OF MR. BOYLE
Gentlemen of the Convention :—I am grate
ful to you for the honor of being called to
preside over your deliberations. No man
came to this city expecting, less than my
self, to be chosen for the position I now oc
cupy. It was an honor I had no right to
look for, and which I certainly did not an
ticipate. One of the youngest men of the
Convention, I accept that honor as intended
for the young Democracy of the State I
rather than for myself and in their name
thank you for it.
I may say, gentlemen, with propriety,
and truthfully, that no Convention that
ever assembled in this State embodied more
of the talent and worth of the Democratic
party than is now present in this ball.
Around me I look upon the veterans of that
grand organization—upon those who led it
in the days of Its triumph, and who were
faithful to it in the days of its disasters. I
see its young men, its life in the future. To
the one we look for wise counsels, and to
the other for that activity and energy which
shall make these counsels effective. And
of all the distinguished gentlemen here as
sembled, let me say that none stands higher
in the estimation of the Democratic party ;
none has a firmer hold on its affections ;
none has rendered his country more valua
ble services, none has been more steadfast
and faithful through good and through evil
report, than the very distinguished gentle.
man in preference to whom it has pleased
you to select me to preside to day. His
party honors him now, and the time will
come when a whole people will praise his
name for the very great services he has
rendered to the cane of American liberty.
We have assembled, gentlemen, as the
representatives of the Democratic party, to
declare its opinions relative to the present
deplorable condition of the country, and to
place in nomination its candidate for Judge
of the Supreme Court. to succeed Judge
Woodward—a man whom we all honor,
and whose services on the bench we shall
lose with very great regret. The names of
several gentlemen have been mentioned in
connection with the position, and I feel
warranted in saying that the Convention
cannot greatly err in selecting any one of
them. To the judiciary we must look for
the preservation, or, rather, restoration of
the people's liberties; and it is gratifying
to know that should any one of the gentle
men now named be elected, the people will
not look to him in vain.
When we come to declare the principles
and opinions of the Democratic party, let
us give forth no uncertain sound. If we do,
we will not declare those principles and
opinions truthfully. The Democratic party
occupies no equivocal position, nor should
we, its representatives, do so. It entertains
very clear convictions upon the great ques
tions which now divide the people, and it
looks to us to declare theseconvietions with
equal clearness. And let us do so. Let us
speak as they deserve of these acts of the
dominant party which have been subver
sive of the fundamental principles of our
government. To the Democratic party the
people will owe the restoration of these
principles of republican liberty upon which
the government was founded, should they
ever be restored ; and let us to-day give
them assurance that they shall not look to
it in vain. We should declare that the war
has not resulted in a dissolution of the
Union—that the boundaries of the Republic
have not been contratced—that Repub
lican government shall exist upon the bor
ders of the Gulf as well as upon the borders
of the Lakes, and that wherever the
flag floats, there the people shall be free.
Let that assurance go out to all the States,
and all the people thereof. It Is our highest
duty to see that the free Government our
fathers made, the cardinal object of which
was the individual liberty ot thepeople,
shall be preserved to ourselves and trans
mitted to our posterity.
I again thank you, gentlemen, for the
unmerited honor you have done me. I will
perform its duties as best I can, and I ask
you to exercise forbearance toward me.
152331:13
Mr, Hughes, of Schuylkill, offered the
following;
Resolved, That a committee be appointed,
equal to the Senatorial representation, by
the delegates from each district, respective
ly, to report to this Convention, for its fur
ther action, resolutions upon the platform.
The following gentlemen were appointed
a committee to report permanent Vico
Presidents and Secretaries:
COMMITTEE ON PERMANENT ORGANIZATION
let District, Charles W. Brooks ; 2d, Cha s
Thomas; 3d, Samuel G. King; 4th, Thos.
J. Roberts ; sth, Dennis B. Kelley, A. D.
Markley, 6th, 0. P. James; 7th, Edwin
Albright; Bth, R. P. Rhodes; 9th, Conrad
G raber ; 10th, Peter Gilbert; 11th, John
Blanding; 12th, G. B. Nicholson ; 13th, A.
J. Quigley; 14th, Philip Hilbish ; 15th, J.
R. Hilbush ; 16th, L. C. Shirk ; 17th, H. 'l'.
Shultz, William P. Brinton ; 18th, Samuel
N. Bailey ; 19th, Hon. William M'Sherry ;
20th, John G. Hartley; 21st, Chas. J.M'ln
tire, Gen. A. P. Wilson; 22d, J. B. Sansom;
23d, T. J. M'Culloch ; 24th, William M.
Given; 25th, John A. Strain, John O'Con
nor; 28th, H. Manchester; 27th, E. Harnit;
28th, James Buchanan, Jr.; 29th, G. W.
Heecker.
Mr. Lamberton moved to appoint a
committee of one from-each Senatorial Dis
trict to prepare a platform, " and that all
resolutions relating to the platform be re
ferred to that committee without debate,"
which was passed.
Mr. John W. King moved that the Con
vention take a recess of ten minutes, for the
purpose of allowing the Senatorial commit
tee to perfect the organization.
The following gentlemen were, at the ex
piration of the ten minutes, announced as
the Committee on Resolutions :
COMMITTEE ON RESOLUTIONS
Hon. Richard Vilna, Anthony J. Leech
ler, Thomas W. Greenbank, Jesse T.
Vogdes, J. P. Kelley, B. M. Boyer, L. S.
Bodder, Hon. George W. Stein, Richmond
L. Jones, F. W. Hughes, Peter Gilbert,
Wm. M. Piatt, A. A. Chase, Byron D. Ham
lin, Major John Cummings, Hon. Paul
Leidy, R . A. Lamberton, Esq., Dr. Samuel
Welchens, George Young, jr., Hon. J. S.
Black, J. McD. Sharpe, Hon. Amos S.
Smith, T. M. Utley, A. S. Landis, Capt. H.
D, Woodruff, T. J. McCulloch, Win. H.
Playford, Hon. James P. Barr, James Kerr,
J. H. Odel, Jacob Zeigler, James Buchanan,
Jr., J. Ross Thompson.
Mr. Vaux moved that when this Coven-
tion adjourn It adjourn to meet at threo
o'clock. Agreed to, and the Convention
adjourned,
The Convention re-assembled at threo
o'clock, the President, Mr. Boyle, in the
chair.
The chairman of the committee on per
manent organization made a report, which
was read, as follows:
Ist district, Robert Randall; 2d, Wm. A.
Sowder ; 3d, Daniel M. Fox ; 4th, A. D.
Boileau; sth, Abel Rambo; 6th, L. S.
Bodder : 7th, Charles Glans; Bth, John S.
Schroeder; 9th, Wm. H. Gallagher; 10th,
C. S. Deitrioh ; 11th, Wm. M. Platt; 12th,
Michael Reap; 13th, H. A. Guernsey; 14th,
Dr. Hugh Montgomery; 15th, J. R. Hil bush ;
16th, S. - P. Auchmuty ; 17th, - Henry Eckert,
Dr. H. Reemensnyder ; 18th, Charles E.
M'Laughlin, 19th, D. K. Wunderlich ; 20th,
H. Findley; 21st, Dr. J. M. Gemmill, S. T.
Shugart; 22d, H. D. Woodruff: 23d, W. W.
Barr ; 24th, H. P. Laird ; 25th, W. D.
Moore, J. C. Buffum ; 26th. Wm. Swann;
27th, Jacob Zeigler; 28th, J. S. M'Calmont;
29th, B. S. M'Alister.
SECRETARIES.
John W. Brown, Dauphin; Benj. L.
Forster, Dauphin; E. R. Worrel, Philadel
phia; John C. Barr, Allegheny; David S.
Boon, Luzerne ; John Horn, Schuylkill ;
C. M. Knauss, Northampton; J. H. O'Dell,
Beaver; H. T. Shultz, Lancaster; James
M'Carty, Berks ; Albert R. Schofield,
Philadelphia; Henry M'Kean, Bradford;
Charles I. T. M'lntire, Perry; Benjamin
Whitman, Erie; John C. Smith, Montgom
ery ; I. P. Helsel, Allegheny ; W. H. Reel,
Allegheny; Jno. S. Bossier, Lebanon.
SERGEANT AT
Follyard E. Degan.
On motion of Mr. W. W. Barr the
Convention proceeded to place in nomina
tion a candidate for Supreme Judge, when
the following gentlemen were named us can
didates :
Hon. John W. Maynard, of Northampton
Hon. James Ryan, of Schuylkill.
Hon. George Sharswood, of Philadelphia.
Hon. James H. Graham, of Carlisle,
Cumberland county.
Hon. Walter H. Lowrie, of Allegheny.
Hon. Robert J. Fisher, of York.
Hon. Gaylord Church, of Crawford
county. . _
Hon. Benjamin Grant. of Erie county.
Hon. George W. Woodward, of Luzerne.
Hon. Henry D. Foster, of Westmoreland.
The name of Hon. George W. Woodward
was, at the request of several of his per
sonal friends, withdrawn, he having per
emptorily declined to be a candidate.
On the authority of W. D. Moore, Esq., of
Allegheny, the name of Hon. Henry D. Fos
ter was withdrawn.
A motion was made that W. D. Moore,
Esq., of Allegheny be invited to address the
Convention, while the Committee on Reso
lutions were preparing:their report. Agreed
to.
Mr. Moore was then introduced, and de
livered a very able speech, in which he set
forth the duties of the Democratic party,
the objects to be attained, the present de
plorable condition of the country, &c.
The Committee on Resolutions not being
ready to report,
Mr. Markley, of Montgomery, moved the
Convention take a recess of ten minutes.
Not agreed to.
The Committee on Resolutions entered
the hall, but the Chairman stated that the
platform they had prepared was not quite
ready to be submitted, the various resolu
tions having been committed to a single
member of the Committee to be copied and
arranged.
On motion, the Convention then proceed
ed to ballot for Judgeof the Supreme Court.
The names of the candidates previously
nominated were read, when the following
named gentlemen were also placed In nom
ination:
Hon. Cyrus L. Pershing, of Cambria
Hon. William Elwell, of Wayne.
BALLOT FOR 'JUDGE OF SUPREME COURT
The Convention then proceeded to a bal
lot, with the following result:
George Sharswood 51
Walter H. Lowrie
John W. Maynard . •
James Ryan
Robert J. Fisher
William Elwell
James S. Graham........ ....
Gaylord Church
Benjamin Grant
'Cyrus L. Per5hing...... ....
No candidate having received a majority
of all the votes, the Convention proceeded
to a second ballot.
Previous to the ballot being taken, the
following names were withdrawn :
Bendainin Grant, Gaylord Church, Wal
ter H. Lowrie,
James S. Graham and
NUMBER 24
SECOND SESSION
I=l
.y - 1:1 1 • 7.1.
Anysserztemmees• on • Mr Per
sonars ofso ten one• ; SO per year for each ad,
ditional ars.
DIAL EirArs, lissecneAr. rams:err, and Oxie
iga,th ADVEIMECRO, 7 cents a line lb? the
first, and 4 amnia for each imbsegnent ismer.
Bremer. None= inserted In Local ColtUnn.
15 cents per line.
BPZOIAL Nom= preceding marriagei and
deaths, 10 cents per lino for first insertion,
and 8 cents Mir every srabeeement insertkm.)
1311112(381 O•rtne, of ten lines or leery .
one year 10
&mimes Cards, five 'inner less, one
LZOAL AND OTH a B NOTIOZEI—
Executors' ...aloes«. ........»....7.00
Administrators' ...... 9.00
Assignee.' notices, ............ 2.00
Ai:Altars notices .... 1.50
Other " Notices,' , tea . Irtielp","B.i."l-eisi, S
b 0
three times
The second ballot was as follows
George Shorewood.
John W. Maynard
James Ryan
Robert J. Fisher...
The Hon. George Shorewood having re
ceived a majority of the votes cast, was
declared the duly nominated candidate of
the Democratic party for the Wilco of Su
preme Judge.
Judge Black rose and sold:
I did not vote for Judge Shorewood; but
that only proves that there aro other men
deemed worthy of the high honor which has
fallen upon a proper person. I have known
Judge Shorewood for a good many years;
I think I know him well, both as a man
and a lawyer; there is not one unsound
spot upon Lint ; there aro precious few men
in Pennsylvania who aro his equal ; and to
say that is to say about as much as can well
be said of any man. He understands the
law and the constitution thoroughly, and
would die rather than violate a groat prin.
ciplo. No man will over go to him and
demand Justico in vain ; ho may not got all
ho desires, but ho will be euro to got all ho
deserves, all he is entitled to under the law
wisely and correctly interpreted. Ho ought
to have been notpinatod fifteen years ago;
ought to have boon ono of the first men
elected. I know ono man whose claims
might well have boon deferred to those of
George Shorewood. [This allusion to him
self was answered by cries of" No I" " No i"
from the Convention.]
Judge Black moved that tho nomination
of Judge Shorewood be made unanimous,
and it wan dono amid much enthusiasm.
Mr. Lumberton, (Dauphin) offered the
following :
Resolved, That the Hon. Wm. A. Wal
lace be the chairman of the State Central
Committee, to be continued as such until
the first day of January, 1869.
Resolved, That the delegates front each
Senatorial district designate a member of
the State Central Committee, to continue in
office until the let day of January, 1869.
A motion was made to strike out all after
the word " Resolved," and insert, " That
the nominee of this Convention for the Su
preme Bench shall appoint the chairman of
the State Central Committee," and provid
ing that he shall also supervise the selection
of a committee of thirty-three to serve for
the ensuing year.
Mr. Vaux moved to amend the amend
ment, by striking out all after the word
" Resolved," in the first resolution, and
insert " That this Convention now proceed
to elect a chairman of the Democratic State
Central Committee for the ensuing year."
After considerable discussion, the resolu-
Dons passed, as follows :
Resolved, That this Convention now pro
ceed to elect a chairman of the Democratic
State Central Committee for the ensuing
year.
Resolved, That the delegates from each
Senatorial district designate a member of
the State Central Committee, to continue In
office until the meeting of the next Demo
cratic State Convention.
The Hon. William A. Wallace was then
unanimously elected Chairman of the
State Central Committee.
The following resolution was unani
mously carried:
Resolved, That the thanks of the Demo
cratic party of Pennsylvania are eminently
due to the Hon. William A. Wallace, for
the faithful manner in which Ito has dis
charged his duties as Chairman of it for this
State, and that higher honors await him.
The Convention then proceeded to elect
members of the State Central Committee
for the ensuing year. Tho following gen
tlemen were elected:
STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE.
Ist District, Gen. William M'Candless ;
2d, Adam B. Walter, Philadelphia; 3d,
Samudl J. Randall, Philadelphia ; 4th,
Albert R. Schofield ; sth, A. D. Markley and
Nimrod Strickland, Jr.; 6th, 0. P. James;
7th, C. M. Knauss ; Bth, James McCarty ;
9th, George Do B. Kelm; 10th, Peter Gil
bert; 11th, Joseph L. Merriman; 12th, David
R. Randall; 13th, G. 0. Delse ; 14th, Major
John Cummings; 15th, John A. Punston ;
16th, David Mitchell; 17th Wm. P. Brinton,
Robert Crane; 18th, Wm. M. Penrose; 19th,
Henry J. Stahl; 20th, Jno. 0. Gemmel;
21st, Gen. A. P. Wilson, Joseph Swartz;
22d, Joseph M. Thompson; 23d, Thomas J.
McCullough ; 24th, W. T. H. Pauloy ; 25th,
Hon. James P. Barr, William D. Moore;
20th, Freeman Brady, Jr.; 27th, David S.
Morris; 28th, Robert M. Do France; 29th,
Pierson Church.
Itir. Hughes offered the following reso
ution :
Resolved, That the term of the Hon. Wm•
A. Wallace, Chairman of the Democratic
State Central Committee, and that of the
Committee, be extended until the first day
of January, 1869.
After considerable debate the resolution
was carried by yeas 51, nays 45.
The committee on resolutions presented
the following report:
THE PLATFORM.
We, the delegates of the Democratic party
of Pennsylvania in general State Conven
tion assembled, for the nomination of a can
didate for Judge of the Supreme Court, pro
foundly grateful to the Supreme Ruler of
the Universe for the return of peace to our
beloved country, but deeply anxious on
account of the trials and delays which im
pede the complete restoration and reunion
of all the States, and appreciating the dan
gers which still threaten the safety of our
political institutions, and the future peace,
• liberty and prosperity of the people, re
solve,
1. That we steadfastly adhere to the prin
ciples of civil government established by
the founders of the Union; and In the pres
ent conflict of legislative usurpation with
constitutional law we esteem a wise, upright
and fearless judiciary the great bulwark of
public liberty and individual right.
2. That the Union of the States is per
petual, and the Federal Government su
preme within its constitutional limits.
3. That representation in the Congress of
he United States, and in the electoral col-
lege, is a right fundamental and indestruc
tible in its nature and in every State, being
a duty as well as a right pertaining to the
people of every State and essential to our
Republican system of Government. Its
denial is the destruction of the Govern
ment itself.
4. Each State having under the Consti
tution the exclusive right to prescribe the
qualifications of its own electors, we pro
claim as a usurpation and an outrage the
establishment of negro suffrage in any of
the States by the co-ercive exercise of Fed
eral power • and we shall resist to the last
resort the threatened measures of the lead
ers of the Republican party to interfere by
acts of Congress with the regulation of the
elective franchise in the State of Pennsyl
vania.
5. That we are opposed to any amendment
of the Constitution of the State giving to
negroes the right of suffrage.
6. That the failure of the Tariff Bill in
the last session of the late Congress, more
than three-fourth of whose members be
longed to the Republican party, is an il
lustration of their infidelity to their pledges
and their neglect of their professions in re
lation to the great industrial and financial
interests of the country.
7. That the Radical majority in Congress,
and those who sustain them, have over
thrown the Constitution, dismembered the
Federal Union and subverted republican
government by a long series of usurpations,
among which are the following
Their denial of the right of States of the
Union to representation in Congress.
Their treatment of ten States as subjuga
ted provinces, and governing them by mil
itary force in time of peace.
Their enactment of laws denying indem
nity for arrests and false imprisonments
made.without authority , of law.
Thi;elA resistance of the authority of the
civil V trilitlids., and their overthrow by the
substPjl.,ution of military Nmmissions for the
trial of ',undefined offenses.
Their crlibrts to destroy the executive and
judicial de t partments - of the Government by
threatened impeachment to control execu
tive action, and a projected "remodelling"
of the Supreme Court of the United States
to force obedience to congressional man
dates.
Their ejection from their seats in the Fed
eral Senate and House, of members duly
and legally chosen.
That the purpose of confiscation avowed
by the Republican leaders, in violation of
the Declaration of Rights and other guar
antees of the Federal and State Constitu
tions, tending as it does,
to destroy all pro
tection to private property, advancing them
far on the high road to repudiation.
8. That a strict conformity, both by the
Federal and State Governments, to all the
powers, restrictions and guarantees, aa
contained in the Constitution of the United
States, a rigid and wise economy in the
administration of publlo affairs; and the
election of capable, honest and patriotic
men to office, are measures absolutely ne
cessary to restore public confidence, avert
national bankruptcy, and to ensure the
perpetuity of our free institutions.
9. That the late Republican Legislature
of this State has distinguished itself for the
number of its unwise and unoonatitutional
enactments.
Some of these laws have already been
Judicially determined to bennoonstitution
al, others are unw4
onfa ise urtA page, , inezpedient, oppree•
007*1144