Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, August 10, 1870, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCE&
PUBLISHED EVERT Winrszarier BY
H. G. SMITH & CO
H. G. SMITH
TERMS—Two Dollars per annum payable
In all cases In advance.
THE LANCASTEEt DAILY INTEIJIGEKCICII 19
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at.
85 per annum In advance.
OFFICE--SOUTILWFSIT CORE= OE CENTRE
SQUARE.
Vortrp.
lit S. T. TILOWBUT DOH.
1101110 from his journey Farmer John
Arrived this morning, safe and sound.
His black coat off, and his old clothes on,
"Now I'm myself •" says Farmer John;
And lie thinks, look around."
Up leaps the dog "Get down you pup!
Are you so glad you would eat Me up?"
The old cow lows at the gate, to greet him;
Tho horses prick up their ears to meet him
"Well, well, old Bay!
Ha, ha, old Gray'
Do you get teed when away :•
"You haven't a rib!" says Farmer John;
"The cattle are looking round and sleek;
The colt Is going to be a roan,
And u beauty, too; how he has grown !
We'll wean the colt next week."
Hays Farmer John, "When I've been off,
To call you again about the trough.
And watch yin!, and pet you, while you drink
Is a greater emnfort than you can think!"
And he pats old Bay,
And he !daps old a:ray;—
. 'All, this Is the comfort of going away!"
"For, after all," says farmer. John,
"The best of a Journey is getting borne!
I've seen great nigh would I give
This sputum! thepeaceful life I live,
Inc all their Paris and Rollie?
These hills for the city's stilled air,
And big hotels all bustle and glare.
Lund all houses, ttud roads all NUM.,
That deafen your ears and batter your bonus
Would you, old hay ?
Would you, old Gray'?
That's what one gels by going away.
Tiers Money Is King, - says Fitritier John
".Inil lashlon Is and IL's mighty iiiieer
Tu NI1l! haw nuinct Imes, telille the Man
Is raking and scraping all lie can,
'fire wife spends, every year,
Enough, you would think for is setire of wives,
'l's lEll'll thelll 111 luxury all their lives!
'llia town Is it perlisit Babylon
!To it collet Omn i " says Pluna•r John,
"You bee, old 'lay -
You sis•,nod li nlc,--
'rliat's what I've leariied by going away.-
"I've. found out this," slays Farmer John,
happiness Is hurt bought and hold,
And clutched In u life of NVILSII!M11.111 hurry
In nights of pleasure and dugs of worry ;
And wealth I:111'1 1W In gold,
Mortgage and Mock and tell per -
llut in simple ways illlll 5%'1•14. content,
Fen: 10111104, pure 111,111.1: and 11111111. conk,
SOll.l 011111, 111.1 IL few good Irlcinis
1,1 k., yen, 11111 Bay,
Anil pin, old 1 i ray,
'That's what by going uway.
And Il Ilapp)'11111.11 .1111111,
o.l'll'll and happy 1111111 Is
lie seem the peas uull 111111111killS grmvittL, , ,
U'lnt corn In Inssel, the 1,111 . 1115iII•11.1. hlowing,
And fruit it slue :Ind tree;
Thu large, tutu oxen Inuit their thanksAs he stilts their fort:ll..ls Ill.' hi.l,liLl, their
Ilankw;
The doves light round him, and stmt and t.in,
Mays Farmer ; take pal, -
And yi,“, old Ilay,
And ynn,.ild r;ray,
Next Ilan- I travel Vo fan away,'.
IMIX=I2III
(NV.. republl,ll the fullnwing hranlllal and
familiar Iltles beealmo they ha,• a peculiar
tilgnllleaneo now.]
Oh a dalnLy phull Ie lb,. Ivy green.
That ereepoth o'er ruins 111 !
Of rlulit elathm fruit are Ills meals, I wren,.
In L 11,11,11 /10 1011 e Iliad C.al l
The walls anvil be crumbled, the stones decay-
To pltasu tlls claltity
And the mouldering dust that years have Intuit
Inn merry meal for
Creeping Witt:rent) II rS Is seen !
A rant old plant t the Ivy green!
Fusi ho steulgth on, though he wears nu Willgs
Arid old heart hits loi
Ilion , closely he (Mouth, how tight h,, slings
To Ills friend, the !Mgt' oul< irs,!
And slily Ire tralleth along the ground,
And Ills leaves 10 , gently waves,
As he Joyously hugs and crow let In round
The rich 111011 id grass,.
Cregplng who., grin, death has hisin,
A rare old plant is the:ovy green
\Whole ages have 11,1 and their works decoyed
And nal ions 1110,1! Heat lered been
But the stout old Ivy ulaill novel hula
From Ills hale and hearty green,
The bravo old plant In Ils lonely days
Shall fatten upon the past
Cur the stateliest building mail can raise
I. the Ivy's food at last.
Creeping on, where thin, has been,
A rare old plant Is the ivy green !
Alisrcllanto us.
DISTINGUISHED LAWYERS
I=l
The following , " talk" to his class by
Prof. Parsons, of Reading, was taken
down by one of his students. R will
lw found curiously interesting :
I will begin with the greatest man I
ever knew, and one to whom the mum
try owes a deeper debt of gratitude than
to any except ‘Vashington.
I knew hint but one winter, when I
called on him was received with perfect
kindness, anti NS' !IS cordially invited to
call again. 'fhe tone of his voice plain
ly indicated that the invitation extend
ed was meant as 110 mere act of polite
ness.;; I did call again and again, and
eaeh visit made me more anxious to call
more frequently.
Chief Justice Marshall 00110 born in
1755. Ile was the eldest son of fifteen
children. His father, Col. Marshall,
was a gentleman of excellent family,
but no property. Col. Marshall edu
cated hiseltildren himself, as he was too
poor• to send them to school.
Chief Justice Marshall began with
poetry. At the age of twelve he had
copied all (II• Pope's Essay on Man. Ile
multi repeat 11111011 of Shakespeare, Dry
den, Pope, Campbell 1111 a other stand
ard poets.
lie wrote a great deal of poetry him
self, but even at this young age he dis
played that great sagacity which so
distinguished him. Ile never publish
ed any of his poetry.
AL the age of twenty he entered (lie
army, where he remained until 1751.
Ile figured in 1110 St of the I) Viptd en
gagements in the Soot).
While stationed at Philadelphia he
attended one course of 114(0
Muhl. , all this time he 00140 very poor.
When he was returning 11001 e an inn
keepet• refused him admission to his
house because he did not look respecta
ble. Soon after returning home, in
171g1, he WaS elected to the Virginit
Legislature, where he was returned as
a member until 171 t(.
In 17S8 he succeeded in securing, the
adoption of the Federal Constitution,
which was violently opposed by Patrick
llenry. The majority in favor of adop
tion Was only ten. In 1797 he went to
Paris.
fn 1799 he was sent to Congress, where
his influence wns almost. boundless.
• I n ISOU hu WaN appointed and con
firmed Secretary of War. Ile, however,
never entered upon the duties of his
°nice, for before lie , 'could do so there
was a vacancy in the Milt e of Secret:lm . y
of State, and he had this position ten
dered him. Ile did not hold this office
long, for in ISO 2, he was appointed first
Chief Justice of the [tilted States.—
When this was tendered to hint by
President Adams he positively refused
It, and urged the claims of other gentle
memwhom he thought more qualified.
Finally, however, his mune was sent to
the Senate and he was unanimously
confirmed. l e knew very little "book
law" when lie was appointed. lie had
attended but one course of law lectures
And had praeticed but three years. 'rids
was the great reason, when he urged so
strongly the appointment of others. It
is said of Marshall that he never held an
Mlle° that was not almost forced upon
hint.
Soon after he was admitted to practice
he married. Ile was still very poor.
He said lie did pay the preacher for
marrying him, and that he had one
guinea left. 01 course he had to work
very hard in his profession. It is prob
ably more to his early poverty than to
anything else that he owed those habits
of indomitable energy, which were so
characteristic of him. He was forty
six years of age when he was appointed.
He immediately commenced to pursue
a systematic course of the study of the
law. He never became familiar with
the books. In all the ranks of legal
literature there are no books where there
Is so little authority cited as those :con
taining his decisions. When a ease was
argued, and it was for the Judges to de
cide it, after thinking for sometime, lie
would write down his decision, and,
handing it to Judge Story, says :
" There, Story; that is the law of this
ease ; now go and find the authorities,"
and, probably, there was no one more
able to do this than Story.
Story once said : " When I wish to
reach a point in the law, I have togrope
timidly from headland to headland, and
feel satisfied if I at last remotely reach
it." But Marshall, in an adventure
seine and bold manner, puts right out
to seaoind without difficulty approach.
es it.
One of the earliest of the great cases
whi . ch have immortalized the name of
Marshall is the case of Marbury vs.
Madison,' 1 Cranch 137. In an able
opinion he laid down the true principles
which underlie the foundation of our
Government. He draws a sharp line
between We powers of the different de
partments. For this he had been abun
dantly preparing himself in the Virginia
Legislature, when the Constitution was
before that body for adoption.
I have spoken of Marshall as an able
C11"161:
/ • •
•
(if
, Art? - ixOtic - t
•
VIIIC/?t
•
VOLUME 71
jurist. I will now speak of him as a man.
He was remarkable and peculiar in his
old age, when I knew him. He cared
nothing for fashions. He had never
changed the cut of his dress. His out
side coat was peculiarly long and in the
skirts had two large pockets ; frequent
ly he could be seen walking up Penn
sylvania avenue with a law book in
each pocket, or his pocket filled with
legal documents to overflowing.
His peculiar characteristic was the
carrying of a long greenumbrella, which
was Ids constant companion, not only
when it was raining, but stuck under
his arm when not a cloud was seen.
A kinder man never lived. He was
I a model for the judiciary of our coun
try. He was perfectly courteous in his
manner, never speaking unkindly to
any one. But still he was a man with
whom no liberties could be taken. He
was peculiar, even in his dignity.--
He had one peculiarity which one could
not fail to observe; he would look long
and intensely without winking. Before
the age of the two-hour rules it often
happened that sonic boring lawyer
would come before the Court land speak
for hours. When Marshall saw such a
one, that cold, gray eye would be fixed
upon him, and he would wilt beneath
that gaze. He never loved to look very
largely.into authorities. On one occa
sion S— dined with the Judges of the
Supreme Court at Marshall's house. A
servant entered when they were seated
at the table. lie brought a basket of
books, and handed a note to Marshall.—
The note was from Benton, who had
argued :t ease before him. Marshall read
the note to the company somewhat as
follows: "Mr. iibtrodalit: I send you
sueli of the authorities as I now have,
and will send you others soon." Mar
shall looked up and saw , - the basket, and
exclaimed : " (Mod Lord, deliver us!"
In Washington in those days it was
a very fashionable amusement to pitch
quoits. Frequently would Marshall
and other members of the Court, after
their labors were over, be seen out on
the green, with their coats nil, pitching
quoits. My first and last impression
were that he was a good and great man,
and it was the happiest moment in his
life when he could Make others happy.
Ills smile, his tune, his eye ' all con
spired to bring about the result.
.Mlly RANI/M.111,0V ROAN,,KE
was a very dillbrent 1111 M front Mar
shall. I knew him well. His nephew was
any classmate and chum. His name `vas
Theodoric Tendor Itmidolph. \Viten I
came to Washington Randolph came to
see Inc, having probably heard his
nephew speak of me.
Randolph was very tall and slim, and
of a sallow eomplexion. He stooped
somewhat. When he walked lie made
very 10n!..>••....4,tride5, keeping his feet paral
lel, as if sonic one was in his way, and
such person liaittersget out of it. Ills
favorite gesture was to rX•ach out a very
long arni,w Rh a long thXger on the end of
it, and point it directly at a person. His
voice had a peculiar shrillness. Really,
there is nothing to discribe It was
high, and, When he chose to 'bake it so,
soft and sweet. He did not always speak
in sweet tones, for when he had occasion
he spoke as "with a trumpet with a sil
very voice." lie prided himself upon
his excellent English, for this lie made
the object of his study. Ile had a splen
did English library, and it was his
pleasure to study words and phrases,
and phraseology. The used to say he had
studied the Bible more than any other
hook—would that he had studied it to
inure advantage! lie did so for its ex
quisite Saxon English. A phonographer
might have published his words as they
fell from his lips, so finely turned were
his periods, and well chosen were
his words. Ile had not much imagina
tion. lie had a very great power of rea
son ing, and he had a power of sarcasm
which was blighting. Some one. aid to
Benton, " 1 - Ic must have been among,
you like a comet frightening the nations,
shaking pestilence and war." " Ni, !"
said Benton, "he was a planetary plague,
shooting down agony and fear upon the
went bens."
During the winter when I was with
hint in Wa,hington, an old man and a
member of the House of Representa
tives died. lie was a special friend.—
Quite a young man was chosen in his
place. Ile came on to Washington de
termined to win his spurs. So not long
after he bad taken his seat, he in his
debate made a fierce attack upon Ran
dolph. Every one wits filled with as
tonishment. When lie got through
Randolph did not get up to reply, but
kept his seat during the whole of the
debate. Several days passed and another
topic came up. Randolph made a very
earnest effort in behalf of the side lie
favored. As he closed his speech lie
said : "I would not, Mr. Speaker, have
returned to press this matter with so
11111( . 11 earnestness, had not my views
possessed the sanction and concurrence
of my late departed friend, whose seat I
lament, is now unhappily vacant." At
these words he pointed his longarm and
the long linger at the young member
who attacked Inot several days before.
The House roared with applause.
On another occasion, a regular Down
Easter had been elected, and came down
to Washington several days before the
meeting of Congress, and had gone into
the adjoining States. When Congress
met he made himself very familiar with
his brother Congressmen, and (lid not
hesitate to approach and speak to any
of them. Ile came up to Randolph and
said, "I've just been to Virginia and
passed by your house." "I'd be glad,"
said Randolph, "if when you arc in Vir
ginia, or wheresoever 1 have a house—
that you would always ',ass by it."
Some one asked "Is he an aristocrat or
a Jacobin''" replied another,
"he is neither; he is tin Ishmaelite."
Every one's hand was against hint or
would be, were it not for fear of him, and
his 111111(1 was against every one.
There is no doubt but that he was de
scended front Pocahontas. He was most
proud of this. No stranger could be in
lib; company one hour and remain'igno
rant of it. Ile was sure to bring:n iii
conversation sonic way. Ile felt that old
Powhatan was the lord of all Virginia,
and when he died he left his regal rights
to Ids daughter, and when she died they
descended to him, and that he was king
of the whole land. There was a "screw
loose" somewhere in his mental compo
sition. So long ago as when the first
steamboat was put upon the Hudson,
there was not business enough to keep
it employed every day, so frequently it
would take excursion parties up the
river. On one occasion quite a large party
were on board, among them Randolph
and a Mr. Schuyler, who was a very
modest, she man, respected by all.—
While the Lout was going on its way,
Randolph started up, went a few paces
front a party of ladies and shouted out,
" Mr. Schuyler! M r. Schuyler ! will you
do me the favor to conic here 1" Mr.
Schuyler left the party and approached
him. '' Mr. Schuyler, look here "
placing his hand on his ear—" what do
you see'."' "Nothing„" replied Schuyler.
" Look at that ear—what do you see
" Simply an ear." " Don't you see Po
cahontas there?" In order for Schuyler
to get away :he finally said, " I think I
do see a little of it." Mr. Schuyler re
lated this to Parsons. It is believed
that the aboriginal descendants of the
country left a peculiar mark upon the
lobe of the car, which always marked
suck persons. He made a visit to Eng
land and behaved quite strangely wldle
there. The English were at loss to ac
count for his eccentricities. They
ascribed them to three things—first, that
he drank upon the sly, or was all the
time tipsy: or that he was insane;
thirdly, that it was due to American
peculiarities. Our narrator was told
this by an Englishman, when he re
marked he preferred not to have him
think it the latter of the three. Roca
hontas married Rolfe—which is the
smile word as Randolph. Randolph's
grandfather had a perfect right of
Rolfe's if he chose it. NVhile in London
he saw fit to dress in the Randolph clan.
He carried sword, pistols and dirk; had
his leg bare to the knee, just like an old
Scot. Once at a theatre two young men,
front his strange dress and other cause,
smiled at Min. He turned to them and
said: " Let him who smiles at tartan
beware of the dirk," and at the same
time brandishing the dirk.
The Washington otlicials became very
tired of him. They feared him, and in
order to get rid of him, he was appoint
ed Minister Plenipotentiary to Russia.
Ho refused to accept unless permission
was given him to spend some time in
Italy for his health. This was granted,
as would anything to have got rid of
him. He went to Italy, stayed some
time there—went to Russia and remain
ed only one month ; then went to Eng
land and made quite a long stay before
returning home.
Tho reason why he left Russia was
this: While he was there, and before
he had been presented to tilt Emperor,
some one undertook to teach him the
presentation etiquette of that Court. It
was very simple. The Minister was to
enter the door and bow, at the middle
of the room bow again, approach the
Emperor and bow, and then the Em
peror would meet him and enter into
conversation. He was indignant at the
idea of any one attempting to teach him,
and said, "Don't you think I know how
without you showing me 7" The day
for his presentation approached. He
entered the room and bowed very
low—came to the middle of the room,
stopped, and bowed—he then came
nearer, took off one gauntlet and threw
it on one side of the Emperor and then
the other on the other side of the Em
peror—then he pitched his hat off in
front, threw off his mantle—threw off
his sword and fell on his knees. The
Emperor was perfectly astonished, but
being a well-educated man knew how
to act under such circumstances. So he
approached, lifted him up and conversed
with him. His reception did not come
Up to Iris ideas, so, being disgusted with
Russia, lie left in a month.
He had an unbounded admiration of
, Marshall, who was the only man who
I could at all control him. When Mar
shall was 74 he was in the Convention,
and an attack was made upon the Judi
ciary. He made his greatest eflbrts in
his defence and triumphantly saved it.
Randolph, speaking of this speech ,'said
" It was a Gibraltar, and every answer
was a pistol shot against the solid rock."
Randolph died of consumption. It is
said that when he was lingering—after
he could not speak a word—that he
wrote upon a card "Remorse ;" this idea
has generally gotten abroad. The truth,
however, is that he was attended during
his illness by a man by the ironic of It.
Morse, and he, for some purpose, wrote
his name.
. -
lie was a man of immense knowl
edge, especially of little things not gen
erally known by other people. He once
said he Could bound every county in
England, tell all of its towns, in what
part of the country they were, name
the course of every river, and the coun
ties through which it flowed.
Our narrator dined one day with Mr.
Otis. It was past the hour named. All
the company had arrived; still dinner
was kept waiting for Randolph. In he
Caine, about a half hour after the time.
I )ress in those days was peculiar ; no one
thought of going to a dinner party with
the clothes he woreevernday. lie came
in with his buckskin pantaloons all
spattered with mud ; he bad on high-top
boots; still retained his hat; had his
riding whip in his hand. He made no
apology to Mrs. Otis—merely said : "As
it was a pleasant day he lout lengthened
his ride." He sat at Mrs. Otis 's right,
while our narrator sat to the right of Mr.
Otis, at the other end of the table. Jhir
ing the dinner lie called out to our nar
rator in a loud voice: "Mr. P— ! Mr.
P—!" " Sir!" Mr. I . replied.
"Was it ignorance on the part of your
forefathers, or what was it, that led them
to put Norfolk south of Suffollr.'
In England, Norfolk is where the
north folk live, and Suffolk where the
south folk live. Mr. I'. did not know
it at that time. When he came home
he found, after diligent inquiry, that
Suffolk was named first—it was settled
by immigrants from Sullhlk, who gave
it the name of their old home, as did
the Norfolk people who afterwards set
tled Norfolk.
not Colonel Pinckney, of Virginia. The
way our narrator became acquainted
with Pinckney was this: While he was
Minister to England, he went there;
he had a letter of introduction to him
and lost but little time after his arrival
in presenting it. After lie had returned
to Washington, our narrator sought
!din in accordance with his invitation.
He was the greatest lawyer I ever knew,
says our narrator. He had an excellent
memory. It was naturally weak, but
he had systematized his knowledge—
linked it together so that one part
would support the other.
He began life a poor boy at Havre de
Grace. He went into a lawyer's office
to sweep his floors. He would spend
his spare time in looking into the books.
He cultivated quite a fondness for legal
subjects. Friends let him have money,
and he studied law. He ,was at once
very successful. He had an immense
command of language and of authori
ties. He had great sagacity in resort
ing to just what he wanted. He never
used a superfluous citation, but if there
was in all the range of legal literature
anything he wished to use in his argu
ment, he had it. It was a disputed point
who was the stronger in logic, he or
Webster. In rhetoric he was far ahead.
He had all of Choate's elegance of lan
guage, but a great deal more elegance of
delivery.
As a legal orator he had a mysterious
power, now frequently called magne
tism. He had an attractive manlier of
delivery, securing and holding the M
tention of his hearers until he brought
to bear the power of subduing their
minds. Webster opposed him in his
last case—a patent question, involving
something about apart of a cotton-loom.
There could be no drier subject in all
the range of the law. His argument
covered two whole days. There was no
time (luring the whole of it when the
Court House and all the ways around it
was not crowded full of the elite of
Washington. He had a peculiar charm
of gesture which attracted the attention
of every one. Ile would not confine
himself to one spot, but in the course of
his argument he would move about be
fore the Court. Let him talk upon
what subject he would—you could not
help listening, and listening, being con
vinced. As a man, he was perfect
ly kind and courteous toward all, but he
had one weakness which swallowed up
all the rest. Ile was the vainest person
alive. He was vain of his vanity.—
While I was in Russia, I and another
attache were sitting in his parlor, wait
ing for hint to come to dinner. Ile came
in, after a long while, black and dirty as
any man. Without saying a word he
walked up to the sofa, jerked oil' his
hat, threw it and his sword down. At
last Mrs. Pinckney returned, and asked,
"What is the matter."' "Matter!
have been insulted, Madam ! That is
what's the matter." At this, our mum-
or says, my sword and that ()filly friend,
as if by unigic, leaped from their scab
bards, to avenge the insult. I ventured
to ask "How !" Turning to use lie said:
"Sir! Is not a man of my name, my
position, my country, insulted when he
is to get up at o'clock to pay homage to
a little girl (a Russian Princess)' . ." I
ventured to suggest that we were invited
at 11. "Can a gentleman dress in less
than three hours'.'"
iie used to bathe every day, and after
bathing he would throw a thin gauze
over himself and have two body serv-
ants throw line salt at him. ide had
heard, he said, " salt would preserve the
skin." It was true that his complexion
was fine, so much so that there was a
rumor spread that he painted. This
was not true, for our narrator has time
and again seen hint plunge his head in
to a basin and give his face such a rub
bing that no paint in the world could
remain on it. He paraded his efforts in
making this show. He liked to hear
such rumors of himself. He was 54 when
in St. Petersburg and 60 when in Wash
ington,though he looked like 30 when he
went into company. He was not very
fond of society, and would not remain
longer than ten o'clock at a party of
tentimes. When he came out he would
say, "Let us go home and have a chat,"
which our narrator was most willing to
do. When he got there he would be
gin to unmake himself. He was laced
in every direction. He would wear the
fashionable cravat of that day, which
was an immense piece of silk, about a
yard and a half square. It was folded
diagonally, corners turned in, and that
filled with a long piece of padding, or,
as it was commonly called, pudding,
which was made for that purpose. It
was then folded and drawn tightly
around the neck, his more than ordi
narily so. His whole dress was faultless
and beautiful, as well as most fashiona
ble. The only thing that-troubled him
was his thin hair, though he was not
bald. After lie had all his tight clothes
off he would fall back into his chair and
tell his servant to bring him a glass of
"peach drink," which was no other
than most excellent punch, made with
old peach brandy. He would turn to
our narrator and say: " Mr. P
will you have a glass of peach drink ? ';
" Yes, I think I will." There we would
sit and talk until very late.
On one occasion I told him I would
like very much to hear him in
the Senate, and I would be glad if he
would let me know when he was go
ing to speak upon any question. He
replied; " I do not know that I will
have much to say this term. I do not
know of any topic which will come be
fore the Senate upon which I will be
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING AUGUST 10, 1870
likely to speak, unless the Senate gets
into a confused, chaotic state, and will
need me to set them right." Our nar
rator once told Webster of this, who
did not like him. He said ; "It was all
exactly so, only he was a great fool to
say it."
After a night's hard study he would
come into court, and in discussing
question, would in the course of his ar
gument say: "I 'think' your honors
will find an authority for—that—in—
the first of East, about 604—yes—I
should say about 604—and on the right
hand side." While he knew it, having
ust examined. All this was done for
effect, in order to make the populace
think he knew not only the law, but
knew the location on the page.
It was generally supposed that he died
from over-exertion in the case in which
ho was opposed by Webster, though
knowing his habits of life as I did, I do
not think that was so. I sat up with
him late during the night before his at
tack, and had promised him "Cooper's
Spy," which had just come out, and
which he was anxious to see. The night
of his attack I took it to him remained
late, 'and left him reading it. The
next morning I came down to breakfast
late, and was asked by the landlady:—
"Mr. P—, have you heard from your
friend Mr. Pinckney ?" I replied "No!
is there anything the matter with him?"
" I was told that he was dead." I hur
ried over to his house, and was at once
admitted to his room. I found him
very low, having been stricken down
with apoplexy. I approached him and
said, " How are you, Mr. Pinckney ?"
" 1 scarcely know ; I feel a little weak
—after you left me, I had something of
a lit, and fell into a dreamy state, and
when I awoke this morning I felt weak
and found physicians around me." He
said lie had sat tip reading the novel
very late. He criticized the book with
his usual intellect and correetnes, show
ing that his mind had not at all been
impaired. The family, wkio had been
sent for, came that evening. I stayed
with them until after midnight, when
I left him almost insensible. Next day
when I called 1 found him entirely so.
to lingered a few days in this state and
lieu died.
It was true he was attacked the day
after Webster's speech, but I should
lty his lacing contributed much to his
heath.
Although he was the greatest lawyer
of ,his age, his name is sarcely known.
Such is the evaneescenee of legal fame.
A lawyer who mingles in politics will
be spoken of, as Holt and Mansfield, but
better lawyers than they will soon he
forgotten. The fame of a great lawyer
is only written as in running water.
EMEMEE
I knew well. He was a charming man,
but I will not speak of him, nor of Taz
well, wlm was the leading Ilawyer of
Virginia in his day.
I=ll=l
My acquaintance with Webster was
begun in the court-room, where we often
met. He was forty years old when he
came to Boston from New Hampshire.
I was at that time twenty-three. Just
about this time the Spanish claims came
up. But I must explain them: Our
merchants claimed twenty millions of
dollars for losses suffered during the
Napoleon wars. Spain admitted their
claim so far as to let us have the Flori
das, and pay us also five millions of
dollars besides. This sum of money
was to be divided among the claimants.
Three Commissioners were to be ap
pointed, before whom the claimants
were to be heard. Our narrator was
employed by the Boston merchants to
look after their claims, which were
immense—in fact, the larger part of the
whole sum. They desired Webster to
be with him, and they approached him
on the subject. He expressed a wil
lingness to go to Washington. They
arranged the fee and put the agreement
in writing. If the sum recovered was
so much he was to have five per cent.—
We went on to Washington. - When we
got to Philadelphia he was approached
by the merchants there, and asked to
represent them. lie asked me if I
thought the Boston merchants would
object ? I told him 1 thought not, unless
the interests conflicted, if so, they
would. He desired me to ascertain. I
did so, and found the matter as I have
stated. 'Webster then bargained with
them. He received $2,000 in hand as a
retainer. The next day he spent this
$2,U00 in buying a silver service. He
was in - Washington three years in look
ing after these interests. At the end of
the time he got possession of the money.
I called to see him. He said : " Was
there not something said about a maxi
mum for my fee I said to him : "Yes,
a great deal was said about it, and writ
ten too." f 520,1100 was the maximum
fixed.) " Mr. P—," said he, " the cal
culations are long and tedious; just let
me give checks for ninety-five per cent.
of the whole amount; we can arrange
the calculations very well." We can
Ifrst put the account into the hands of
an accountant, and he can figure it out
in a whole day, and make it all plain."
" Well, the truth of it is, Mr. l'--, I
have spent the ,i;:.!0,000 long ago. Now
you arrange it fur me; write and tell
these men that they never expected
to do this well, that this is a brand
snatched from the fire, and get them to
take 9.5 per cent. I promised to do so,
and did write to the leading firms, who
controlled about three-fourths. They
said: " All very well ; let him have it."
He said: "All very well ; the less
creditors dare not say anything about it,
you need not write to them." In draw
ing his checks he did deduct the five
per cent, He got about $00,001) out of
those claims. He then began to build
an elegant house, but soon found
himself hopelessly in debt. He did
not seem to know that money was
money. Ilis income was large, but
his expenses a great deal larger. He
remained in politics almost all the
remainder of his life. lie did not do
much business, but still his income was
large. He once told a friend that it
averaged .$20,000 per year. He grew to
be amazingly indifferent to money and
debt. II is clerk, au attorney once prac
ticing in his office, said to him: "Mr.
A. sent me to tell you that your note
would tall due in a day or two." "Very
well, sir," said he. " lie told me to
tell you that he wishes it paid." " Well
sir, you have done so." " But lie wishes
me to say to you that it shall be paid!"
" Well, sir, you have done as he told
you. Tell Mr. A. when the note is paid
he shall please let me know it."
His will is a phenomenon. It is drawn
up in a masterly manner, and it is just
such a will as he should have made if
he possessed in addition to his residence,
half a million to support it.
Of his greatness there cannot be the
slightest doubt; but it was the great
ness of power and not of learning. He
would never study a case unless it in
terested him. He was not a systematic
thoroughly read man. He could read
a book rapidly and know more of it than
most persons who studied it. To use
Coleridge's phrase, "He could read it
with his thumb and forefinger."
He fell into a great passion for quot
ing Latin sentences in his speeches. He
did this in imitation of the members of
the English Parliament, who never con
sidered a speech finished unless they
j put a Latin phrase into it.
He knew very little about Latin.
When we were on our way to Wash
ington, the means of travel were not
then as now. We had to go in stage
coaches. I put a copy of Horace into
my valise to while away the hour as we
journeyed. I was reading it one day,
and he asked me what it was. I told
him. He said, "Ali! that is just the
proper book to bring ; let me see it." I
handed it to him, and he could trans
late no four consecutive lines in it.
Prof. Felton used to supply him with
all of his Greek quotations.
He had all the elements of real great
ness, but some follies also. He only
serves to illustrate the Greek maxims,
which I will not give, for two reasons :
First, You might not be able to trans
late it ,• and Second, I would not be able
to render it in Greek ; so I will give you
the translation: "There never was yet a
very great man without some very great
folly annexed to him."
This is true of all the men I have ever
known, except Chief Justice Marshall,
and I will close with him•as I began.,
saying, "he was one of the greatest and
kindest men who ever lived."
Fatal Explosion of an Old Bombshell
A dreadful accident happened at Proffit
Island, in the Mississippi river, about four
miles below Port Hudson, La., a few days
ago. It appears there are on the island
quite a number of those deadly missiles,
which were probably thrown there from
tho gunboats. One of triem, a 150-pound
shell, a number of men and boys took it
into their heads to investigate, drilling at
the vont with a steel hatchet and chisel.—
The result was that the shell exploded,
killing outright two mon and two boys, and
wounding another boy.
The Gambler's Cat
One evening, a number of us were
seated in the bar-room of the only hotel
in the village of Frogtown—the civil
ians' portion of Camp Floyd, in Utah,
during the unpleasantness between the
Government and the Mormons, in 1858
—warming our shins before the huge
fire that blazed in the old-fashioned fire
place. The evening had waned, and
was fast approaching the small hours,
when the footsteps of a horse approach
ing the house were heard.
The night was dreadfully cold and
bleak, the wind was howling across the
alkali plain; driving the falling rain
against the windows, causing them to
rattle as if some one was throwing shot
against the glass, and it was so dark,
why, " Egypt's dark sea" was not a
circumstance to it. I have nu idea how
dark Egypt's dark sea was, but I have
seen the remark somewhere, and it
sounds like a good simile, therefore I
use it—particularly as I have got stuck
for a better.
. _
Suddenly the animal halted in front
of the house, and a cheery voice called
out, "Hallos!"
The landlord went to the door, and
partially opening it, peered out into the
darkness, but not being able to discover
anything, said :
"Anybody there ^"
" Yes, I am; but if you will bustle
about right cheerily I wonit stay here
very• long."
C4o your way, if you want to, I am
sure I don't desire to interfere with
you."
" I ain't going away, not if there's a
roof over your house. I come to stay,
and am going to, or have a fight."
" I calculate stranger, you can get ac
commodated with a lively shake-up, if
you are spilin' fur a fight.
" Not edzactly spiliu ' but somebody
will have to superintend a funeral if I
am kept out here much longer.
" Don't know about that ; but one
thing is sartin, you can help yourself—
come in, or stay out, jess as you feel like.
We ain't particular,' and the landlord
closed the door and returned to his seat
before the lire, and pulling his Powhatan
pipe from his pocket, proceeded to fill it
with tobacco preparatory to enjoying a
smoke.
A minute had scarcely elapsed before
the door opened, and a large, powerful
man entered. His hair hung in ringlets
down his back and clustered over his
shoulders. His face was almost hidden
behind a bushy black pair of whiskers,
and beneath a brood-brimmed hat. He
approached the fire, while the rain drip
ped from his buckskin garments, leav
ing a little rivulet upon the floor.
Uoyingyoursel f here, ain't you ?" he
said as he looked around and took a
mental inventory of those present.
"Trying to be comfortable," replied
the landlord. "We always does."
" Berried independent, too--don't
keer 'bunt 'commodating anybody
either.
" Not pertickler. Got the dead wood
on everybody. There hain't no other
house in this here town, and they all
has to come to me, anyhow."
" You is the landlord, I reckon. Can't
you give a fellow something to eat?—
I'm as hungry as a coyote."
" Cook's gone out, and I don't think
thar is anything in the kitchen, 'cept
ing some cold wittles. You can go in
there and see what you can find."
The stranger took a candle, lit it, and
proceeded to the kitchen, the way being
pointed out to him by the landlord.
After he had gone out, the landlord
roused an Indian boy, who was sleeping
in one corner of the room, and sent him
out to take care of tile stranger's horse,
which had been left standing in front
of the door. Some fifteen minutes pass
ed away, when the stranger returned
from the kitchen, followed by a large
black cat.
" Whose cat is that, and where did it
conic from?" asked the landlord.
" That ar animile b'longs to li)e, and
was brought from New Islexic4-:-:‘ It is a
smart eat, it is."
"And the ow nera lucky fellow," broke
in a taciturn old gambler, who had been
smoking his pipe all the evening, with
out uttering a word.
" You is right, old fellow ; a black cat
always brings good luck, and that cat
has been my constant companion for
three years. He's better nor a dog, and
just as much company. Why, he knows
more nor a man. Don't you, Sam
The cat jumped upon its master's
shoulder, and began to purr and arch its
back, as if greatly pleased at the praise
bestowed upon it by its owner.
"I say, landlord, have you got any
chickens'? I'd like to have one for
breakfast."
"So would I," replied the landlord,
"but I can't get it. There ain't any one
in this region as has got chickens, 'cept
ing the Curnel of the cavalry. opposite,
and he keeps a guard standing over the
stable in which they roost."
The stranger again took a survey of
the party, and then said :
" You look like a good set of fellows.
Now, I'll tell you what we'll do. If you
are] agreed, we will have chicken for
our breakfast, and the Currie' will suf
fer. What say you all
" It would be a little too dangerous to
attempt to nip them chickens," said the
gambler, "although I must say I think
a piece of chicken would taste mighty
nice."
" \Vhar did you say the chickens
roosted ^" asked the stranger.
The landlord told him, and as he did
so the stranger stroked the buck of his
cat, and repeated the landlord's words.
Having concluded, he said, "Now Sam,
you must get us one of them chickens,
and you have got to be keerful, or you
will lose one of your lives." lie then
opened the door, and the cat walked
out.
The stranger narrated several wonder
ful feats that had been performed by his
cat, and thereby managed to while away
some fifteen or twenty minutes, when a
scratching at the door was heard. He
got up and opened it, and in marched
Sam, holding a chicken by the neck.
Every one in that room was dumb
founded, for they had no idea that the
eat would accomplish the bidding of his
master.
" Sam, one is not enough ; we must
have another. Ile a good fellow and get
it for us," said the stranger, as he again
opened the door for the cat to go out.
The company had not been done ex
pressing their astonishment at the won
derful knowledge of the feline, ere he
returned once more with another fine
pullet.
" You are a noble fellow, and deserve
something, and blame if you shan't have
the heads of both them birds. In the
meantime, you had better lay down in
front of the lire and dry yourself, or you
will have a bad cold in the morning."
The cat walked to the hearth corner
and quietly coiled himself up, and was
soon fast asleep. The stealing of the
Colonel's chickens evidently pleased the
landlord greatly, for lie immediately
brought out his jug, and brewed a large
pitcher of punch and invited us all to
partake of it. We drank punch,
told
stories and sung songs for two or three
hours, and then went to bed, and when
we separated, the stranger took his cat
with hint. The chickens were given to
the cook, who served them up the next
morning for breakfast, being careful to
burn the feathers and such portions as
could not be cooked, to prevent detec
tion, should a guard be sent around for
the purpose of hunting for the thieves.
At the time I write of, the soldiers had
but recently been paid off, end every
house in the town was a gambling house
and liquor saloon, and three-fourths of
those in and about the town were gam
blers by profession. Entering one of
these saloons the afternoon following
the eve as above narrated, I found the
stranger seated behind a table, upon
which was piled several hundred dol
lars in gold and silver coin, a number of
packs of cards, and by them was lying
the cat. I invited the stranger to take
a drink, and lie got up and accompanied
me to the bar, but as he did so, lie said :
" Sam, keep a sharp lookout, or some
of the cash will be nipped."
We stood at the bar some minutes,
waiting our turn to be served, when we
were suddenly startled by a yell of agony.
Turning around, we observed a soldier
dancing around the room with the cat
clinging to his hand. The stranger
jnmped forward, and catching the soldier
by the throat, said :
' You have been trying to steal some
thing from my table."
" No, I haven't," 1, MS the dogged re
ply You can't deceive me. What is that
you have in your hand. A twenty
dollar piece, as sure as I live. Give it
up," and he took a double eagle from the
soldier's hand, and giving him a kick,
sent him headlong into the street.
"It won't do to try to steal anything
from me while Sant is on guard. We
do all the stealing that is done, don't
we Sam," said the stranger:as he turn
ed to the bar to obtain the drink which
had been compounded for him, while
the cat jumped on the table and resumed
his position as guard over his master's
treasure.
- - -
Having taken his drink, the stranger
resumed his seat behind his table, and
very quickly began to deal monte to a
crowd who collected around him.
Several days passed away before I saw
the stranger again, although I heard of
him and his cat a dozen times a day. In
fact, Sam and his tricks had become the
topic of conversation in camp. He was
as faithful as a dog, and followed his
master wherever he went. The dogs at
first manifested a disposition .to pitch
into him, but, unlike other cats, he
would not run, and he had a trick of
leaping upon their backs and seizing
hold of them with his teeth; and reach
ing for their eyes with his sharp claws.
He would whip the largest dog in the
camp in less time than it takes to say
Jack Robinson, and after he had de
feated several of the largest and fiercest,
he was let alone and given a wide berth
by the remainder of the canines.
This cat was a strange fellow. Ile
would pay no attention to any one but
his master, whom he would follow like
a spaniel. He would suffer anybody to
stroke his back, but it was utterly im
possible to get him to recognize any act
whatever. He was always at the gamb
ling table, apparently acting as a "look
out," for if any one attempted to pick
up what is known among gamblers it..s
a "sleeper," he would pounce upon and
give them a taste of the quality of his
teeth, but if they attended to their own
money, Sam was perfectly quiet.
Some three months after the first ap
pearance of the gambler at the camp,
with his cat, an awful tragedy took
place. The gambler had been having a
remarkable run of good luck, and had
won somewhere between twenty-five
and thirty thousand dollars. This he
had changed from coin into demands on
the United States Treasury, for conve
nience, and declared that he was going
to leave the country. Times were
getting dull. The soldiers had spent all
the money they had, and it had gradu
ally found its way into the hands of a
few persons, and they were not going to
run the risk of losing it at the gambling
table ; therefore, the gamblers were hav
ing rough times, and one by one, they
were leaving and seeking other regions.
The owner of the cat announced his in
tention of going to Pike's Peak, where
there was a prospect of lively times, as
the immigrants to the mines were be
ginning to arrive.
He had kept perfectly sober during
his stay at the camp, but now that he
was ready to take his departure, he got
to drinking, and kept on a spree for sev
eral days. During this time he became
excessively quarrelsome, and on several
occasions had drawn his pistol and fired
at persons, but had not hit any one.—
Quite a feeling of indignation against
him had been aroused, and dark threats
of lynching were heard from various
uarters.
There lived at the camp a wagon
master named Harry Price, who was a
quiet, peaceable man, beloved by all,
who was never known to engage in a
quarrel. He went to the stranger, told
him of the feeling that had been arous
ed, and advised him to be more circum
spect in his conduct. Instead of taking
the advice in the spirit it was given, the
gambler, without a word, drew his pis
tol and shot Price through the heart,
causing instant death.
Anil now coulee the strangest part of
this strange story. The moment lie tired
his pistol and poor Price fell, the cat
jumped upon its master's shoulders, and
seized him by the throat with its teeth.
In vain he struggled to throw it off; it
clung to him with the tenacity of a bull
dog, and did not release its hold until
its master had raised his pistol and blown
its head to pieces.
The greatest excitement followed the
murder. The murderer tried to escape,
but the crowd, summoned by the report
of the pistol, collected too quickly, and
he was captured. In less time than it
takes to narrate it, the excited crowd
had procured a rope, placed it around
the neck of the miserable man, and
swung him to the end of a wagon tongue,
which was elevated for the purpose.
The Little Tragedy Queen
Some years ago a pale, thin, fragile,
but bright-eyed and intelligent looking
girl of perhaps ten or twelveyears of age,
used to appear in Paris, in the most
crowded part of the walk in the Champs
Elysees, an hour or so before sunset.
She was attended by an old woman who
carried a violin, a tin cup and a carpet.
While the girl stood apart fora moment,
with something of a rapt look, the old
woman spread the carpet, put down the
cup at one corner, and scraped a prelim
inary air upon the violin, which was
often most inappropriate to the drains
which was to follow. The prelude
having terminated, the girl :stepped
on the carpet, with the air of a lit
tle tragedy queen, and recited long
tirades from Racine and Corneille.—
She
recited them superbly; and, despite ;
her air of suffering and her exceedingly
poor attire, she produced such an elli2ct
on the crowd, that while she rested they
filled again and again the cup carried
around with the old woman with sous
and half-franc pieces, to encourage her
to new efforts. The collection was al
ways a large one ; and when the deli
cate-looking child retired—all palpita
ting, and with a flush upon her cheek,
of which it was difficult to say whether
it were the flush of her own triumph
or that of death destined to triumph
over her, the acclamations and cord
ial compliments of her hearers greeted
her as she retired. The winter passed,
the summer came; but not the young
girl who had charmed the crowds by her
tragsc music. During that year, how
ever, a marvelous girl appeared on the
stage of the Clymnase Dramatique, and
as suddenly departed, like a brilliant
meteor ; and speculation ran high as to
whether this fascinating girl was the
pale enchantress of the public walk.—
Another year had nearly passed, when
one night the lady appeared on the stage
of the Theater Francais, and awoke
French tragedy out of the sleep into
which it had fallen. The nanie of the
young girl was announced as Rachel ;
and all Paris not only acknowledged her
as the sovereign of the tragic throne,
but declared that she was the poor girl
who once stood on the carpet in the
Champs Elysees and recited Racine for
sous and half francs. The young lady
maintained a discreet silence, and vari
ous were the opinions as to her identity.
In the course of time however, she
cleared up the mystery by one of the
prettiest and most practical confessions.
She invited a large number of literary
and artistic friends to a soiree in her
spacious saloons. The fair hostess, in
the course of the evening, recited hi
costume every one of her principal
tirades from all the great tragedies
wherein she had acquired undying fame,
and then withdrew amid the hearty ap
plause of her guests. Presently she re
turned in a new character to them, but
an old one to herself—that of a streetsing
er, dressed in an appropriate costume.
Her appearance caused an almost painful
interest. There was poetry in the whole
scene—in the clatter of her boots as she
passed up the splendid gallery, with the
wooden bowl with the sous at the bot
tom, which she rattled 1 E 1.9 she stepped
forward, with a melancholy smile. She
walked straight to the head of the galle
ry, and standing motionless for a min
ute, began the ballad which she had
sung last of all before she was summon
ed from the street to the stage, from rags
and poverty to glory, influence and
riches. The voice of the singer was low
and faltering, and produced such an ef•
fect that the audience wept. Having
terminated the recitation, she carried
round the little cup or bowl, as of old;
only this time intimating to those to
whom her trembling hand had extend
ed it, " It is for the poor."
A Family of Vegetarians
A Cincinnati gentleman:bears strong evi
dence to the all-sufficiency of a vegetable
diet. He writes to the Herald of Health
that his family had lived for over twenty
years on a vegetable and fruit diet mainly,
during which time they had employed a
physician but twice, and then no medicine
was given. His wife is over fifty years old,
and yet teaches school regularly, walking
a distance of two miles and back every day.
Moreover, they have raised eight children,
including twins and triplets. After this
who shall dare say that animal food is ne
cessary to the highest intellectual and phys
ical efficiency! Another peculiarity of the
' family of this Cincinnati vegetarian is that
they eat but two meals a day. To this fact
probably more than to their abstinence
from meats do they owe their remarkable
immunity from the usual fleshy ills.
The War Songs of the Fighters
THE AUTHOR OF THE GERMAN NA-
I=l
Ernst Moritz Arndt was born Decem
ber dtith, 1769, at Shoritz, in Rugen.—
Toward the end of the last century he
distinguished himself as a traveler, and
by his works on Sweden, Italy, France,
Germany, Hungary, &c. In 1801 he
was appointed Professor Extraordinary
of Philosophy at Grafewald. He was a
vehement lover of liberty, and though
at firsta favorerofNapoleon, became one
of his bitterest opponents as soon as he
comprehended his designs of conquest.
His "Spirit of the Age" went through
several editions. The attention it ex
cited by the boldness of its attacks on
Bonaparte compelled Arndt to Hy to
Stockholm, whence he was unable to re
turn till 1813. His writings,which flowed
in rapid succession from his indefatiga
ble pen, made a profound impression of
popular feeling. They served, it is es
timated, more than any cause, to keep
alive the German hatred of French de•
nomination that stimulated the war of
liberation. In 1813, Arndt was ap
pointed Professor of History in the Uni
versity of Bonn ; but the very next
year the inquiry into " Demagogical
Intrigues" was said to have implicated
him. He was out of the public employ
ment till 182.0, when he was reinstated.
His popular poems and war songs, of
which the one given is at once the most
martial and popular, were published at
Frankfort in 1813 and at Leipsie in
1840 ;
TIC C GERMAN FATE( !CIL.% ND,
Whlelo Is the German's fatherland
Is't Prussla's or Swabla's land?
It's where the Rhlne's rich vintage stream.:
I or where the Northern sea-gull hereams)
! nut, no, no !
ills fatherland's not bounded so?
Which is the German's fatherland"
Bavaria or styria's hand?
It's where the Martian oXunbends ?
It where the mnrltsmua's Iron rends
A h! no, no, no!
Ills fatherland's not bounded so!
Which Is the German's fatherland?
Pomerania's or Westphalla's land?
Is It where sweep the Dulllan KUVeN ?
Or where the thundering Delude, runes?.:
! 110, 110, no!
Ills fatherland's not bounded so!
leh Is the German's fatherland?
t iii, tell nin now the faun,. land!
1,4'1. Tyrol. or the land of 'fell ?
Such hinds and people please rut, well
All! no, no, no!
Ills fatherland's not bounded so!
Which is the German's fatherland'
Come tell lIIt.IIOW, the famous land
Doubtless, It is the Austrian State,
In honors and in trump!. great!,
All! nu, no, no!
Ills fatherland's nut hounded so!
Which Is the German's fatherland?
So tell me now the famous hind;
Is't what the Princes won by sleight"
From the Emperor's and the Emperor), right?
no, no, no!
Ills fatherland's not houndtAl xo
Whieh le the Gorman's fatherland?
So tell me now at last the laud!
Far 11 , ‘ the Ge 11113.11 accent rings,
And hymns to Clod In Heaven sings—
That Is the land—
There, brother, is thy fatherland!
11111=12=11 1 12=1
Miherooaths itttetal the grasped hand—
_ .
'.VI truth heuuur from the sparkling eye•s—
.Vnd In the heart love warmly Iles;—
1 hat Is the land—
There, brother, to thy fatherland
Where wrath pursues the foreign band—
W here every Frank is held a foe,
And i!ernians all us brothers glow!
That is the land—
all Gerinany's the fatherland!
'FIIE HISTORY 01."firE NIARSEILLAISF
On the 30th of July, 1793, the Marseil
laises arrived at Paris, whither they had
been invited by Barbaroux at the in
stance of Madame Boland. " The se
cret motive of their march,"
says M. De
Lamartine, was to intimidate the Na
tional Guard of Paris; to revive the
energy of the Faubourgs ; and to be in
the advance guard of that camp of 20,-
000 men, which the Girondists had made
the Assembly vote; to overrule the
Feuillants, the Jacobins, the King, and
the Assembly itself, with an army of
the Departments composed entirely of
their own creatures." The Marseillaises
entered Paris by the Faubourg St An
toine, and singing the song which bears
their name, proceeded to the Champs
Elysees, where a banquet was prepared
for them.
The origin of the words and music of
this famous song is thus described by
M. De Lamaratine: "There was at that
time a young officer of artillery in the
garrison at Strasburg. His name was
Rouget De Lisle. He was born at Lons
le-Saulnier in the Jura, a country of
reveries and energy, as mountainous
regions always are. This young man
loved war as a soldier; the revolution as
a thinker. By his verses and his music,
he lightened the tediousness of the gar
rison. Generally sought on account of
his double talent as a musician and a
poet, he became a familiar visitor at the
house of au Asiatic patriot, Dietrich,
Mayor of Strasburg. The wife and
daugters of Dietrich shared his enthusi
asm for patriotism and revolution. They
loVed the young officer. They inspired
his heart, his poetry and his music; and
trusting to the early lispiugs of his
genius, they were the first to execute his
scarcely expressed thoughts.
" It was in the winter of 179:2, famine
reigned at Strasburg, the Dietrich family
were poor, and their table was frugal,
but it was always hospitable to Rouget.
One day, when there was nothing on
the board but some ammunition bread
and a few slices of ham, Dietrich, look
ing at De Lisle with melancholy calm
ness, said to I,irn : ' Abundance is want
ing, at our banquet, but what matters
that, when neither enthusiasm is want
ing at our civic feasts, nor courage in
the hearts of our soldiers ? I have still
a bottle of wine left in my cellar; let it
be brought up, and let us drink to lib
erty and our country. There will soon
be a patriotic celebration at Strasburg;
may these last drops inspire De Lisle
with one of those hymns whichiconvey
to the soul of the people the intoxica
tion from whence they proceed.' The
young girls applauded, brought in the
wine, and tilled the glasses of their aged
father and the young officer until the
liquor was exhausted. It was nidnight.
The night was cold. De Lisle was in a
dreamy state ; his heart was touched ;
his head wily heated. The cold over
powered him, and he tottered into his
lonely room, slowly, seeking inspiration
now in his patriotic soul, now in his
harpsichord ; sometimes composing the
air before the words, and sometimes the
words before the air, and so combining
them in his thoughts that he himself
did not know whether the notes or the
verses came first, and that it was impos
sible to separate the poetry from the
the music, or the sentiment from the
expression. He sang all, and set down
nothing.
"Overpowered with the sublime in
spiration, De Lisle went to sleep on the
harpsicord, and did not wake until day.
He recollected the song of the previous
' night with a difficulty like that with
which we recall the impressions of a
dream. He now set down the words
and music, and ran with them to Die
trich, whom he found at work in the
garden. The wife and daughter of the
old patriot had not yet risen. Dietrich
awakened: them, and Invited some
friends who were as passionately food
of music as himself, and were capable
of executing De Lisle's composition.
His eldest daughter played the accom
paniment, while Itouget sung, At the
first stanzas all faces turned pale ; at the
second, tears ran down every cheek ;
and at the last all the madness of enthu
siasm broke forth. Dietrich, his wife,
his daughter, and the young officer fell
weeping into each other's arms, the
hymn of the country was found. It
was destined, alas! to be also the hymn
of terror. A few months afterward the
unfortunate Dietrich went to the scaf
fold to the sound of the very notes which
had their origin on his own hearth, in
the heart of his friend and in the voices
of his children.
THE ISAILSEILLAISE.
Come, children of your country, come
New glory dawns upon the world, t
liar tyrants, rushing to their doom:
Their bloody standard have unfurl.' ;
Already on our plains we hear
The murmurs of a savage horde
Ymir comrades and your children dear.
Then up and forth your ranks, the hireling
foe withstand,
March on—his craven blood must fertilize
the land.
Those banded nerfs—what would they have,
By tyrant kings together brought 7
Whom are those fetters to enslave
Which long ago their hands have wrought?
You, Frenchmen, you they would enchain ;
Doth not the thought your bosonm tire?
The ancient bondage they desire
To force upon your necks again.
Then up, &c.
These marshalled foreigners—shall they
Make laws to reach the Frenchman's hearth?
Shall hireling troops who fight for pay
Strike down our warriors to the earth?
God! shall we bow beneath the weight
Of hands that slavish fetters wear?
ta Once more dare
To be the masters of our fate 7
Then up, Sc.
Then tremble tyrants—traitors all—
Ye whom both friends and foes despise,
On you shall retribution fall,
Your crimes shall gain a worthy prize,
Each man opposes might to might;
And when our youthful heroes die,
Our French can well their place supply ;
NUMBER V.
We're soldiers all with you to light.
Then up, Se.
Yet generous warriors, still forbear
Todeal on all your vengeful blows;
The train of helpless victims share,
Against their will they are our
4ut oh, those despots stained with blood,
Those traitors leagued with base Bimini,
Who make their native land their pi
Death to the savage tiger brood !
March on, .Fe.
And when our glorious sires are dead,
Their virtues we shall surely nod
When on the self same path we tread.
And track the fame they leave helond
Less to surv.lve them we desire
Than to partake their noble grave,
The proud ampition we shall have
To live for vengeance or e pl re.
Then up. Ltie.
Conte, love of country guide u, now,
Endow our vengeful arms With II
And dearest liberty, do thou.
And thy defenders II the tight.
Unto our nags let victory.
Called by thy stirring aceents haste;
And may thy dying foes al last
Thy triumph and our glory sec.
Then up and form your rank,tili• hit . ..llllg
foe Nvithstand,
March on,—his blood must fertillee the
land.
Hunting the Wild Turkey.
A writer upon "The (lame Birds of
Michigan," in the Detroit P'ree.
thus graphically describes the manner
in which the wild turkey is hunted by
the professionals:
The true and almost tiniversal method
of hunting them, among sportmen, is to
scatter the thick by chasing them with
a dog trained for that purpose. This is
usually the setteror pointer. When the
dog rushes into the dock they scatter in
all directions, alighting on the trees or
skulking and hiding under the brush.
If a marsh is near at hand, they almost
invariably hide in the grass. If they
have taken to the trees or skulked in the
woods, the limiter calls in the dog and
sets himself silently down until lie Inure
the call of the birds uttered for the re
assembling of the Clocks; this he imi
tates, and they are called up within
range of the gun and shot in detail. It
may be said that this is not sport, but I
am inclined to the opinion that those
who ignore everything but wing shoot
ing and claim everything else to be pot
hunting and unmanly, would change
their views after having once Witnessed
the exciting scenes of calling turkeys.
The simrtsman, after the flock has
been well scattered, sits down in excited
expectation, and listens with intense
interest for the first call of the birds. If
disappointed in this, he after ti time, im
itates the calling himself, and this must
not be clumsily. done. Thejeast break
or falter in the note is detected by the
birds at once. They lie hidden on all
sides of ldin, waiting fearingly, and like
him listening intently for the call, 1111 d
reluctant to be the first to utter it. Ile
puts the instrument to his lips, covers it
with both hands to deaden and soften
the sound, and utters a cautious, feeble
note—utters it once and only once—and
listens for the response. Everything is
painfully silent ; the senses of sight and
hearing are strained to their utmost
pitch; the dog crouched by the side of
his master partakes of the anxiety and
silently watches every motion, and lis
tens intently for the responding call.—
After a short interval it)comes, careful
ly and cautiously. The concealed game
has heard the note, std after careful
deliberation has yielded to the decep
tion, and half doubtingly and cautious
ly responds. The gleam iu the hunter's
eye and the quick start of the dog,
which is only a pleasurable quiver tif
the tensely strained nerves, shows that
the device has been so far successful.—
All is silent again. No tpiick, sudden
reply, uo change of position or hurry,
but the hunter waits patiently and lung,
as if but half satisfied with the feeble,
cautious reply. When the waiting has
become painful—each minute seeming
an hour—and the silence almost op
pressive, he replaces the instrument to
his lips and another soft and carefully
uttered note floats out upon the air.
This seems to reassure the hidden
prey, and after a short interval, the note
conies wafted back like an echo, but
from a shorter distance—the bird some
what LISSU red by the second call has
cautiously left its hiding place, and is
silently stealing toward the fancied
rendezvous. Increased caution is now
required, and the eager hunter waits
even longer than before, and some im
patient victim responds from another
direction. Shortly follows the cull of
the limiter, and silence again prevails.
The dog is eager and excited, and his
nose quivers as the :aroma of the ap
proaching game reaches his nostrils, a
rapid gleam of pleasure shoots across
the features of his master whose prac
ticed eye has detected the stealthy
approach of the bird. Carefully and
silently it conies, often stopping and
peering inquiringly into the cover,
not entirely free from suspicion. At
the same time, with a steady and al
most imperceptible motion, the deadly
tube is raised to the hunter's eye, and
the death-knell rings out with a sharp
reechoing explosion. The bird flutters
away its short remnant, of life, and si
lence prevails again as painfully intense
as before. The well-trained dog Ines
not lost its caution or been thrown 11'
his balance by the shot, but with eager
and delighted expression lies closer than
before. The hunter has thurst a new
cartridge into the gun almost with the
act of taking it from his face, and lie
proceeds with a repetition of the excit
ing tragedy.
When no further responses can be
obtained to the call, the hints arc gath
ered and the hunt is over.
nay and Night In Sweden
The peculiarities of the day and night in
Sweden strike the traveler very forcibly,
after being accustomed to the temperate
zone. I n use the sun goes down in Stock
holm a little before ten o'clock. There is
a great illumination all night, as the sun
'lasses round the earth toward the North
'ele, and the refraction of its rays is stein
that you can see to read at midnight with
out tiny artificial light. There is a moun
tain at the head of Bothnia where, on the
21st of June, the sun does not appear to go
down at all. 'Tine steamboat goes up from
Stockholm for the purpose of conveying
those who are curious to witness the phe
nomenon. It occurs only on ono night.
'l'ho sun reaches the horizon; you ran see
the whole face of it, and inn five Minutes
more it begins to rise. At the North ('ape,
latitude 72 deg., the sun does not go down
for several weeks. Inn June it would he
dog. above the horizon at midnight.
Inn the winter the sun disappears, and is
not seen for weeks ; then it comes, and re
in/011S for ten or fifteen minutes, :Laer
which it descends, and finally does not set
at all, but makes almost a circle round the
heavens.
In consequence of the publication of er
ronous statements ascribing the arrest of
the Hon. C. J. l'alkner in August, lsnl, to
suspicion on the part of the government as
to his fidelity in the discharge of his duty
as previously United States minister to
France, that gentleman has written a letter
to the Walley Mar detailing the facts of that
occurrence. He states that after his return
from Europe, and reporting himself at
Washington so as to close the affairs of his
mission, he received from the government
a pass or safe conduct through the lines to
his home in Virginia. Two days afterward
ho was arrested by order of Secretary Cam
eron, the reason therefore being sufficiently
given that "being a distinguished citizen of
the State of Virginia he hail been arrested,
and is now held as a hostage for the safe re
turn of Henry S. Magraw, late treasurer of
Pennsylvania, and that with my consent
ho shall not lie released until MagTaw's
return." No other reason was ever alleged,
and upon the return of Magraw,Mr. Faulk
ner claimed and obtained his liberty.
Another Rebel Appointed to n Lttern
live Office by Grant.
The New York San says:
Zealous Republicans will be interested in
learning something about the appointment
of Col. Ambrose C. Dunn, of A irginia, to
be both Consul-General and Marshal of the
United States at liakodadi, in Japan. This
double-headed appointment wan smuggled
through the Senate at the eleventh hour,
on the 15th of July, the day of the adjourn
ment. The two offices are said to be worth
ointly $15,000 a year. Dunn was during
the whole war in the service of the Confed
erate Government, and derives his title as
Colonel from a commission he received
to raise a regiment for Jett. Davis. Since
the war he has by some strange coneatena:
tion been in the service of the Internal Rev
enue Department, first as a storekeeper
and afterward as Assistant Inspector in a
Virginia District. Why should General
Grant appoint him to two offices worth
$15,000 a year? Wo leave the question to
those more skillful than wo in the solution
of difficult conundrums.
Effects of the War on Petroleum Trade.
The war between Prussia and France has
proved a severe blow to trade in petroleum,
which had grown to bo ono of the most im
portant branches of our foreign commerce.
Germany afforded us the best market for
the product, and it was chiefly in German
ships that the oil was transported. The war
has caused most of the German ships to
withdraw from the trade, rather than sub
ject themselves to the danger of capture.—
The result, of course, is that the petroleum
traffic with Germany must be almost en
tirely suspended so long as the war con
tinues.
RATE OF ADVERTISING
Busizrses ADVERTISEMENTS, 512 a year per
&taro of ten Ilnea; £43 per year for each addl
.
tlonal iNpaare, , ;
REAL ESTATE ADVERTIEINO, 10 cents n line for
the first, and 5 cents for each subsequent. In-
Insertion.
OESEIIAL AnvEnnsilio, 7 cents a line for fl c
first, and .1 aunts for cacti subsequent In cr•
tton.
SPECIAL Nsrics.s Inserted In Local Polnin
15 cents per Hue.
SPECIAL NOTICIP preceditta man - Int:es nil
deaths, 10 curds per line for arst insertn , r
and 5 cents for evury subsequent Ite•erl loe.
LEGAL AND OTHER NOT wEs—
Executors' notices 2 0
AdrninLstratorie notice.. ..... .... ....... ... 2 : - .11
Assignees' notices 2 51
Auditors' notlees 2 on
Other " Notices," ten Ilnes, or less, P
three times 150
Et=
Congress adjourned with more UOll tl
drum) among the Radicals than they have
had for some two months past. The re
duction of the taxes to the minima .if
(KW is to be their groat card in the eativass,
and with this and the restoration of thy•
Union at taut by the admission of tieorgi.i,
they think they can make some head at
the fall elections against the general rent-
- -
Lion throughout the country in fitvor of the
Democratic party. The hollowness of lhr
arguments On which they rely may he
easily exposed.
The reduction of the taxes, with which
every stump is to ring this fill], amounts
to this: that while in one form the popu
ar burdens have been lightened, in an
other all the old burdens have been reim
posed, and, perhaps, even new ones super
idded. Senator Sherman puts the redni—
tion at Pi,UOO,OOO, Sehenek calls it t;so,otiu,-
000, and lloutwell, in a document sent in
on the llth of Juno lust, makes it $512,01m,-
000. Of these estimates—for the reduction
is not known hut merely an eNlintitted
rc
ductiou—lloutwell's is, perhaps, the most
reliable, and that is not saying much for it.
The Secretary is not remarkable for his
aeountey. According to Dawes, ho made a
mistake of $37,000,y00 in his estimates of
the general appropriations, and there is no
telling unit he has had made another mis
take of r;:e_t,000,000 in his estimates of the
reduction of the taxes. But, uonceding
that there is no mistakes; conceding that
r',.. — r.:,000,000, or even ;370,000,000 are taken oir
of the taxes, is there nothing added on?
'Vito answer is this that there is something
added on, as much as, if not more than,
the amount taken Ott'. At the fag end of
the act " to reduce the taxes atetfor other
purposes," the '•other purposes," appear
in the shape of Schenck's tail tari O which
adds to the popular burdens all that the
body or the act takes ell, and probably
even adds 1110 re. The ineeme tax is re-
timed front 1 to rd per rent., and the ex
emption increased from $l,OOO to s'2,enti
aloes, se:mummy, and gamboge, eggs, dia
mond-dust, sea-week, skeletons, and
squills are put upon the free list, and the
duties on tea, sugar, and coffee are decreas
ed, :ind on these changes the reduction of
the ;376,000,000 is claimed, but, coeval with
these changes. the tail tariff raises the duly
on steel, flax, hemp, cotton goods, nicktd,
oils, and other float necessary articles to it
rate that will take from the people or the
Unite,' Stales millions of dollars in the
shape of an enhitneed cost. In tho article
of steel alone $.10,000,000 will in all proba
bility be taken in the shape of a difference
in price brought about by this " act to rc•
doer the taxes;" front $4,000,000 to $10,000,-
000 on cottons; while Oil ilex, homy,
Ilickei the duty is raised front ;S:hi to
1100 per cent. It is true that these are not
taxes in the SCR S(' {Odell the illOOlllO 1114
is—that is, exactions which must be met
by going to a collector's ollieo and plank
ing your money in exchange for a receipt,
hut they ore none the less taxes for all that.
To pay inure for the wale article is sub
stantially a tax, and this is the tax levied
by the Mil tariff. The steel worker Or
painter who has an income of $ 1 , 500 , and
has heretofore paid an income tux upon it
of $25, is relieved from further payment, it
is true, under this "act to reduce taxes
run! for other purinmes :" but in the en-
Minced oust of the steel workers raw ma
terial, or the painter's oils, he will pay
many times over in the course of the year.
The tail tariff enhancing many of the main
articles of 11SO, what is said hereof the steel
worker and the painter, applies to mon el
all other callings. Their ineones, if under
Z 02,000, are spared, and their tea and sugar
come a trine cheaper; but they pay tre
mendously for tins,. and the money that
they pay goes not to the government, but
to [nose cormorants, the protectionists, in
whose interests Sehenck framed and Con
gress passed the tail tariff at the end of the
'fax bill. Entitled an act to reduce the
taxes, it is really an act to relieve 1. he peo
ple from paying certain taxes to the Federal
treasury on condition of paying certain
other and heavier taxes to protected inter
ests. 'rho treasury loses directly under this
act, and the people lose indirectly, and no
body prolits much except the Radical pro
tectionists who makes money and the Ithdi
eal poi itirian who makes party capital' mil
of it. 'Phu " reduction " a frau d.-4V.
The Chinamen may want wives, the
ALLssachusetts spinsters !nay want, hus
bands. It isn't every that. WOlll,l
11/IVO .101111 a. 4 a husband, and it isn't every
•onlan JoLn would have ns a \Vile ; 1,111.
Annan nature is human nature, even ill
spite of antipodal diversities. If the ,Johns
"do troll' in M assachusetts,those now there
will stay, and others will come. The long
er they remain the more tolerable they will
become, and it does not require an excessive
strain of the fancy to imagine a Brno when
their oblique eyes, attenuated shins, pig
tails, chop-stick, and heathenism will lose
all their repoisiveness, and they themselves
grow to ho altogether lovely in the specta
cles of the myopic Maiisachussetts Puritan
esses. The very antipodes of the two par
ties will accelerate their approximation,
and perhaps precipitate the dreaded calam
ity. Thu missionary and proselytizing
fdrit will break out with renewed ardor in
11, bosoms of the redundant sex, and they
will yearn to rescue the Johns from their
benighted spiritual condition. They will
have them at Sunday schools, at church, at
sewing societies, fairs, bazaars, picnics, and
so forth. John is a stubborn animal, ulna-
cious in hie faith, in his habits, in his tra
ditions, and in his views On things in gen
eral ; but lie Nvouhl lie as superhuman
as the pictured goblins and monsters
on his own battle-banners if he could
stand all this. Ile Siallil it
he is clay, atel yellow clay at that ;
he will yield; he will forget the flow
ery kingdom ; he will forget. Confucius ;
he will cut oil his pig -tail; he will drop
Ins slippers and put on North Adams bouts;
lie will lay aside his blue cotton blouse and
put on a bob-tailed coat; he will wear eye
glasses ; ho will get married to his kind
hearted Sunday School teacher; and he Will
bring over .15,000 other Johns, like himself,
to restore the social equipoise in Massnoll[l
setts. A few years ago the immigration
and multiplication of Irish in Massachu
setts, accompanied by the migration and
diminution of increase of the native popu
lation, suggested uncomfortable prospe,
tives of a not far distant day when Boston
would be a cis-Atlantic Dublin, and the
Land of the Pilgrims be represented in
Congress by a solid delegation of Irish
Democrats. But the Chinese matter may
interfere with this probability after all.--
Boston !nay become a city of pagodas and
joss-Louses, and Plymouth Rock the site
of a porcelain tower. Massachusetts may
escape being Ifibernian only by becoming
chinese.—vt. Lout . , Repubficaft.
A circular has been issued by tho Sine nil
Auditor of the Treasury, dated August I,
stating—
First. No action ran be taken can claillts
for bounty under the decision of the Su
premo Court of March 14, 1070, by account
ing officers until further legislation by
Congress, us thin Adjutant :enema uannot
designate regiments to which said nee:Li:ion
applies, the President's proclamation and
general orders of the War Department,
upon which the decision is based, having
authorized the raising of only forty regi
ments, while eighty-two were accepted.
Second. By the act of July 30, 1570, the
fourth section of the act of March 3, 1809,
ontitled an act in relation to additional
bounties and for other purposes, is repealed,
and the time for Ming bounty claims under
the act of July 'LS, 1860, additional bounty,
is extended to January 13,1871.
Third. Soldiers who enlisted under tho
act of July is6l, aro not entitled to unpaid
instalments of bounty, under section Ist of
the act of March 3d . 1869, and the decision
of the Attorney 11eneral, January 19, 1,470,
unless their discharge and certificates de
clare them to be discharged by reason of
the expirations of their terns of service.
Fourth. The bill which passed the I louse
of Representatives giving eight and one
third dollars per month to each soldier
during his active service, not having passed
the Senate, is not a law.
Fifth. No law granting bounty was
enacted by the Forty-first Congress, nor
has any such law been enacted since the act
of March 3, 1869.
Sixth. In all cases svhero blanks and
Instructions fez 111Qpresontation of claims
for bounty by chlittiants are requested the
service of the soldier, the date and period
of earls enlistment, the date and cause of his
discharge, or if the soldier is dead, the date
and cause of his death ' the relationship of
his nearest heirs and what bounty is claim
ed, should be fully stated.
Two Persona Drowned at Cape Day
CA rEMAY, Aug. 3.—Yesterday afternoon
Sarah Cromheart, a nurse in the employ of
Mrs. Menainin, went to the beach to bathe.
She, with a companion, waded out to about
waist deep and was unable to return; when
Mr. Johnson, connected with the Walnut
Street Theatre, rushed to her assistance.
She grasped him and both disappeared, the
under-tow forcing them further out. Mr
Johnson, on coming to the surface, called
fur help, and a life-boat was run out to their
assistance, but it failed to rescue therm
The bodies have not been recovered.
A few cries for help were heard before
they sank, but all the efforts made to rescue
them proved aborativo. The bodies had
not been recovered late yesterday after
noon.
Mr. Johnson, who sacrificed his life to
save others, was but twenty years of age,
and resided with his father at 2021 South
street. Ito left this city ou Saturday last
in a sloop, with a pleasurer party. The de
ceased was employed in the Ledger °MN
several years ago. Last season he was ono
of the Company at Walnut street Theatre,
and had recently been engaged for the
coming season.
Two of the seven brutes who commit
ted an outrage upon a young lady in
Philadelphia, last week, have been con
victed. The others have not been tried
yet.