HOURS WITH FORREST.
REMINISCENCES Of THE Oil HAT ACTOK
AND HIS CONVERSATIONS AIIOUT
THE DIIAMA.
It was on A bleak, blustering No
-3 tuber day, when a thin sprinkling
of suow laid ujwm the wind-swept
street* und a few loaves fled before the
angry blast, that 1 paid my lust visit
to Edwin Forrest. He was then domi
ciled at his house on llroad street, lie
had left the stage, on which for so
many years ho hud becu the idol in
this country and the wonder in Fug
land. He had ended his career as a
reader, and was living .in elegant re
tirement amid his friends, his book*,
his pictures und those recollections of
the post earned by u stout struggle
with a not over friendly world. His
mansion stood on that November day
cold, massive and sileut. The dull
gray of the atmosphere made the out
wide less than inviting, while the eager,
biting uir aud the sullen aspect of sur
rouudiug nature udded to the glooni of
the picture. A rap of the knocker
woke the echoes of the silent hall,
which, in expanse, brought to mind
those of the old custlc* inhabited bv
the kuights of other days—those men
who took power by the mailed band
und held it iu the same manner. The
noise of bolts and burs told that at
tendant* were on the alert, and then
the door was opened and I was admit
ted to the inside of thu house. From
the hall a broad staircase led to the
upper part of the building. Even iu
this portion of the dwelling thu taste
of thu oceupaut wo* plainly visible.
There were pictures, busts and statues
in proper positions, aud the light* so
distributed a* to give them proper
prominence.
A FIRST VISIT.
Chaperoned by nu old attendant,
who, with her companion, were very
near to the kind and protecting na
ture of {Mr. Forrest, I ascended the
*tej*, and at the top was met with u
rush of light from an open door and n
Welcome, hearty, manly and em brae- !
ing, from the historic muster of the
house. The room, into which Mr.
Forrest led the way, wa* the library.
It was a long, narrow appartment.
It had its front on Hroad street, and
the rear windows looked out upon a i
garden, which, in summer, wa* redo
lent with the perfume of a thousand
roses aud vocal with the matin -sougs
of a score of happy birds. It was a
charming room, aud once enfolded in
its wurm embrace November's cold.
stern countenance was superceded by
the blossoming and smiling face of
vernal May. It was so near night
that lights were nt once ordered, and
in a short time all was bright and
cheerful, and a blaze of brilliant light
fell upon aud gilded a hundred objects
of taste, culture and learning. Ihwk
eascs were filled with rare and costly
volumes. Shakeqieare was there, in
all varieties of binding and from all
times. Old and choice editions of this
nuthor were lying in all parts of the
room, and most of the volumes bore
marks of constant use by the loving
student of this great expounder of
niau's wishes, hope* and ambitions in
aU walks of life. There wore also
editions of the works of all the other
dramatic authors, both ancient, and
modern, showing that Mr. Forrest was
n broad, general student, and founded
his school of culture tyxl art not upon
the rill, but the might river by which
the ocean of immensity in nature and
art is fed and sustained. His collec
tion of works in other departments of
intellectual effort was also full and
complete, and in history, poetry and
miscellaneous works this student's re
treat was garnished in a complete and
ample manner. Upon the walls were
hung rare gems in the pictorial art,
and busts of master* in more than one
of the departments of mind-effort
looked upon the visitor in that ealm
retreat. Near the walls were also
cases, in which reposed objects made
valuable either from their own intrin
sic worth or from some association of
a historic, public or private character.
The dramatic art was well represent- 1
til in this portion of the collection of
Mr. Forrest's library. Near the cen
tre of the room was Mr. Forrest's
reading table, and on this reposed in
close companionship the Bibie,
Hhakospeare and a dictionary. The
Bible was opened at the "Sermon on
the Mount," and Shakespeare at the
last act of "King These had
been the meditation from which the
man and actor had leen disturbed by
my visit. He had contemplated the
"old man," torn, larceratcd, wounded
and crazed by a cold eniel, unfeeling
world, his heart pierced by arrow*
flighted by his own children, and then
turned fur consolation to that won
derful announcement, that blesses the
peaceful, the meek and just. The
books upon the table of Edwin For
rest were a more powerful exposition
. of his real character than a host of
treaties put in print by over zealous
friends or depreciating enemies. Mr.
Foirest was evidently at home in this
room, and after seating himself at his
table and again extending a cordial
greeting to His visitor feel into an easy,
unpretentious range of conversation,
at once instructive and entertaining.
FORBKCT'fI COBtVERSATIOJ*.
Mr. Forrest was a most charming
talker. He did not totally discard
the arts of the actor. He used these
appliances to etreugthen, enliven and
make more forcible the topics upon
which he discoursed. But, at the
same time, be hid the actor behind
•
: "* v > w 'M st
the talker. lie did not make appa
rent the uctor and the footlights. Of
course, as his studies had been mainly
directed In the line of hi* profession, he
would naturally fall into that line
when unbending himself in the hours
of private intercourse with friends.
And upon those topics his opinions
were most generally fairly, frankly
and unreservedly given, flo was a
keen nnd exhaustive critic from alt
|Miiut* of his art; but combined with
this was an element of honesty as full
and ample as hi* own big, manly un
til ro. 11c would praise and condemn;
but united und interwoven with this
duty was that ol commending and
praising, which was never overlooked
or omitted. He knew hi* own strength
so well that he was not jealous of
others in the same linn of intellectual
effort. Ili* sense of justice wa* ulso
so nice nnd acute that he could not err
in any direction which led him across
that lino. Thus affluently cquipjied
hi* talk on arts and actor* were an
education in these directions which all
could profit by in a great degree.
At the meeting to which this paper
specially alludes, after some general ;
conversation on the current topic* of 1
the day, during which Mr. Forrest
displayed a close attention to the po
litical, art and literary history of the
times, some one of the few gentlemen
said:
"Mr. Forrest, you have, during your
long stage-life, seen and acted with all
the prominent men of your profession.
Which, in your estimation, stood the
highest in all the elements ot the dra
matic art?"
The question was bold, plain ami
comprehensive. It covered a wide
tiehl and the eminent man addressed
would have been justified in taking
time for mature consideration. But
he was so well grounded in the princi
ples and practice of the dramatic art,
lie had so deeply studied all the
thoughts of the great writers and
actors, that he at once summoned these
aids to his assistance and replied:
K KAN AM) MACRKADY.
"Edmund Kcan was, in my estima
tion, the greatest actor that ever trod
the stage. And perhaps it would not
be venturing too far to say tbat his
equal will never again be seen upon
the boards. At bis Ix-st his acting
was nn inspiration. He walkisl ami
talked as Sir (rile* Overreach, OthrUo
and the other characters he represent
ed, and I was as mueh entranced and
amazed as one of the actor*. His act
ing was always a wonder to me. I
could admire, but never could fathom
it. Though his processes were based
upon the strictest art rules, still his
feeling* were so intense and hi action*
so permeated with fire, devotion and
individual force that the effect pro
duced seemed to be over, above ami
independent of ail art. It was in
truth, so far as an audience was . con
cerned, without rule*. It was c rental -
ized nature. The last act of 'A New
Way to Fay Old I>ebts' in the hand*
of Sir. Kean was terrible in intensity,
and more than one lady refuses! to
play with him in this piece. They
would not subject their nervous sys
tem to such a terrible strain. The
dying scene, as pictures! by Mr. Kean,
was diviwted of all sensational and
nielo-drnmntic effects, and the horrid
realization was complete. It was this
simplicity of truth, nature and strength
that placed Mr. Kean on the topmost
round of his art, and will keep liirn
there, ngninst all competition. And
vet he was by no means an espial actor,
lie must be in the feeling to reach the
Alpine heights of his profession. He
could not pull the cords ami make the
mechanical puppet jump and caper on
the stage. The constantly equal actor
is the mechanical actor, Nature 1*
not always up to her best efforts;
neither can man reach his best level at
all times. But, when Mr. Kcan felt
the pricking* and goading* of his
genius, he was, like Haul among his
brethren, a 'head and shoulder* above
them nil,' and when he left the stage
his mantle fell upon no expectant ar
tist."
"What wa* the school of Mr. Ma
crcady, and what place did he occupy
in that school f were queries to Mr.
Forrest at the same interview.
Mr. Forrest and Mr. Macready had
not lieen friends in the latter jwirt of
their career*. But Mr. Forrest was
far too broad and catholic in his love
and devotion to art to suffer his pri
vate likes or dislikes to stand in the
way of his judgement in relation to the
reputation of a brother artist. He
displayed no hostile feelings toward
Mr. Macready. but spoke of him, aa
he did of Mr. Kean, with perfect fair
ness and candor.
"It is well known," replied Mr.
Forrest, "that I am not an admirer of
that school of acting which had Mr.
Macready as its leading supporter. I
lean towards the Kemnle school. I
admire constant, broad effort, rather
than spasmodic action. Nature, when
acting at her best, acta in a constant
manner. Her spasmodic movements
may be for a time brilliant, but they
are necessarily fragmentary. They are
not complete. When the witty ami
penetrating John Brougham called the
Macready school the'foggy intellectual'
school, he was not so far astray. But
it cannot be denied that of this school
Mr. Macready was the Angelo. He
has no rival. He Mood alone, and 1
none who saw his Handel and Werner
will evor forget the wonderful action
infused into portions of these charac
ters by the nervous action of Mr. Ma
cready. He was at times fully in sym
*if B 5
*
) ' *>' * \
pathy with the character# he assumed,
and word#, looks and actions united to
produce u perfect effect. But the
school being narrow and fitful rather
than broad and generul, the actor soon
fell into the former track and lost hi#
hold upon the true meaniug of art —
that of presenting nature in its broad
est and most complete form. Under
the teaching# and discipline of a better
school of dramatic art, Mr. Mucready
would have been a more catholic ex
pounder of the work# of the great
master. As it was, hi# knowledge of
the technicalities of hi# art was more
extended than that of any of hi# co
temporaries, and hi# stage business a
study which uo one could neglect to
study without a heavy loss in the line
of their profession. He wa# a good
actor in a bad school. Eveu if he had
lieen the jxHetessor of greater talents
they would have been dimmed by the
atmosphere in which he wa# determin
ed to use them."
DAVENPORT AND BOOTH.
"Is not Mr. Davenport heartily and
hoifestly on the Kiiublc platform of
art ?"
"Yes," said Mr. Forrest, with a
quick emphasis and hearty earnestness,
"and the result i# seen in hi# glorious
acting in part# which make him forget
such melodramatic monstrosities as lie
lin# been forced into by the thumb
screws of stock-life. If' Mr. Daven
port had, at an early day in hi# career,
abandoned all but legitimate charac
ters, he would have been a still more
perfect actor. Hi# natural school wa#
also injured by his long association
with Mr. Macready in England. That
fault had to be overcome and corrected
when he returned to the United .State#
liefure be could again get into that
track, at the end of which lay the
goal of hi# true ambition. But lie ha#
returned to the true school, and his
•Sir (Jilt* Overreach and limn lei are
fiue specimens of legitimate and edu
cated art. Mr. Davenpo.t loves his
art. He is no pretender, no false
priest in the temple. He does clean
work with chan hand#, and will oc
cupy a high place among the list of
American artist#—upon whose should
ders rest# at thi# time the superstruct
ure of legitimate home art."
"Edwin Booth comes from a paren
tage that place* more than a usual
amount of responsibility upon him in
relation to the present and future of
dramatic art; doc* he tread in the
footstep of his gifted and erratic
father ?"
"Edwin Booth is undoubtedly a
cultured, studious ami careful actor,"
answered Mr. Forrest, "but you have
placed the contrast at a high pitch.
His father was a wonder in some re
spect*. He was a genius, and bit* of
hi* acting have never l**n excelled in
palhn* and volcanic fiercenwe of arous
ed feeling. Hi* Richard ///.and Inyo
were full of genius, and in other part*
he was also abreast of the giant* of the
stage. There was a magnetism in the
presence an<J acting of the elder Booth
which attracted and held the closest
attention of all clauses in an audience, <
He wa* a highly cultivated man.
But that was not so plainly seen in his
acting as was the changed personality
of the man. When he put on the
hump of Richard he also took up bis
whole personality, and he wa* Inyo in
all particulars. These were the result*
of geniua Edwin Booth is also cul
tured, also studious, also wedded to bis
profession. He is a well cjuiped ac
tor. He ha* studied lovingly and
carefully his father's method*. He is
a careful actor. He never slight* a
personation. These are matters to be
commended in an artist. He ha* a
fine presence and for a certain line of
characters his voice is unsurpassed.
His Hamlet is full of excellencies and
his Shyloct is a fine prfscntaliou of this
fine creation of Shakespeare. But he
ha not the genius of his father. Few
have. He is, however, comparatively
young and no man ceases learning on
the stage if his mind is bent in that
direction. And Edwin Booth is still
a student of nature ami his great art.
What he has already done justifies
high hope* for what he will do in the
future.
After sonic masterly recitations,
which Mr. Forrest was fond of giving
when iu proper com|mnr, I took my
leave of the old actor, scholar and stu
dent. It wa* now night and Mr. For
rest, with a halt in his gait and a pro
fusion of kindly words on his lip*, ac
companied me to the head of the great
stairway, and from theocc I made my
way to the street. The last look I had
of Mr. Forrest wa* as he turned and
entered his library door, to again for
get the world, it* sunshine and its
shade, amid his books, his pictures and
his studies. I never saw him in life
again. But I stood beside his open
coffin in a few months, and, with thou
sands of others, forgot the flaws in the
mirror when remembering the brilliant
Sleams it had shed upon the history of
ramatic art in ail parts of the world.
Baby Mlae.
Xaa ab<* to hW hi tiajr tea,
Ife* Mor-blag <>a bar toX;
H*r Mpa*. uklaa wbita at Maw,
.atly trrarS,
liar itmfl* draaa at aprtaklad fink.
Bar Soakl* SapM rMaj
Bar patk.rW Hp. aait baaatjr awa,
WHS M aaa totoli *lMa.
Rat arm aaa Mb* bar aUlbaCa m,
Twa taatfa lwy*M fbl^a.
Bar tor It Hkt a* napaf. toto
W.'ra |W Oka h** mm ainpW
Sba lltba kaJSflkf a" m tor*.
A (Mia Qa4 (ta* m;
Wa aUM lata tba |UI awta aaU.
tags; ; 0- 1 i
%\ J I
% 1* ' • :
THE COXUHEHSIO.VAL FIIIDLEII.
HOW A TKNNBMKB YOUNGftTEU WOM
HIS ELECTION AND IIIH WIFE.
[NullTill* (TnII ) Bpn-ul lo Cincinnati Rn<|ulr*r ]
Lat Wednesday, at Axheville, N.
Congressman-elect Robert Taylor was
united in marriage to Mis# Knllio
Baird, a niece of (jovernor Vance, of
North (Jurolina. The marriage i# the
conclusion of a somewhat romantic
utory. When Taylor wa* nominated
by the Democrat# on their cumiidntc
for Con grin#, Mi## Baird promised him
that, if elected, alio would murrv him;
if defeated, it would be an indefinite
time before their union eould Ik: coii-
Hummated. The di#trict contain# #ome
of the strongest Re|iuhlieun counties
in the Htatc, and ha# always given a
Republican majority of 2,200 or 2,300.
The prospect for Taylor attaining hi#
desire# were, therefore, not at all prom
i#ing. Besides, he had as an opponent
I'ettihone, one of the Rejiuhliean
chieftain# of the State, an immigrant
from Michigan, jk##i-####l of unusual
shrewdness. In the Presidential con
test, a# 0110 of the Republican electors,
he bore tl c banner of hi# party u# gal
lantly a# Missible, worrying the Demo
crats cot siderahly. hor Taylor he
entertaini d seemingly nothing but con
tempt.
Taylor's nomination was dimply u
lucky stroke of fortune. In the Ite
i publican convention Taylor's brother,
a very pronounced Republican, was
the priij(:i]ial candidate for the notui
nation n gainst I'ettibonc; but tlie lat
ter, after a hitter light, secured the
honor, Republican Taylor's friends
were all angry, and the Democrats
conceived thut it would a good thing
to nominate his Democratic brother,
who would probably draw vote* from
the Republican rank*. The plan was
carried out. Taylor was only twenty
eight years old, and in that region had
made considerable reputation and
|K)pularity as a fiddler. At the frequent
gathering* for dancing he was a most
welcome guest. His nomination
seemed to fire the young men with en
thusiasm. Numbers of Republican*
and two or three Republican journals
left the party rank* and went over to
Taylor's side. IVttibonc was accused
of living iu with the revenue and cus
tom house rings, which had controlled
politic* in that so -tion. It wa* an un
derstood fact that Federal money wa*
to be showered on the district. Tay
lor, as he afterward told friends, had
only $o to com me one the canvo** with,
hut, once out, money and assistance of
every kind poured in on him, so that
after the campaign wa* over, very lit
tle of the $5 was spent. I'ettibone
looked down on him with contempt,
and in the opening speech merely al
luded to him as the "beardless boy
who fiddles."
When it came to Taylor'* rejoinder,
he approached the tabfe with a fiddle
in one hand and a carpet-hag in the
other. He commcnced with tlie state
ment that the serious chare made
against him that he was a fiddler.
, Then laying the fiddle and earj>ct-bag
side by aide on the table, he asked the
1 crowd to choose between them. The
|win! was taken up and carried from
one end of the district to the other,
producing auv amount of merriment
atPettibooc's expense. 1 Vttibone, af
terward, never alluded to Taylor's fid
dle more than once or twice. Taylor
also taunted Petti bone with the fart
that his regiment, at the close of the
war, disbanded with more men than it
had started with. The young Demo
crat was a ready, eloquent speaker,
and never failed to awaken enthusiasm.
Frequently, wheu the speaking was
over, he would entertain the crowd
with music from his violin. The dis
trict has its share of moonshiners, and
they, with all their fricmls, were for
Taylor, as Petti IJOOC was in with and
supported by the revenue men, the
enemies of the moonshiner*. Taylor's
majority was nearly 1,500, making a
Democratic gain of one Congressman
from Tennessee. His father represent
ed the Ktatc in Congress just after the
war. When nominated, Taylor was
advised to take a very conservative
i course, but answered firmly that he
proposed to make the fight on straight
out Democratic principle*. He did
so, and won.
A HOI.ID SOUTH.
hi.aink's sad blunder.
The New York Hernld recite* ac
curately the *ad blunder of Plane in
forcing sectional and exiwqtcrating is
sue* before the country:
Had Mr. Plane, instead of his new
raid on the Houth, which ha* fallen
dead on the country, declared himself
not only for justice, hut al*o for sec
tioual harmony and good feeling; had
he made him*c)f the administration
leader in the Senate; had he boldly
demanded the formation of a new Re
publican parly in the Houth, and call
ed into it, as he better than any other
man could do, abel, influential and
honest men; had he announced a new
Republican policy looking to substan
tial levee and other internal improve
ments, ocean and railroad subsidies,
he would, without losing his hold ou
the Northern wing of bis natty, would
have splintered the Southern Demo
cratic organization to piece*, and
would have drawn to himself such
Southern support as would make him
master next year of the Convention
and of Ave or six Southern Stales in
the election.
It is the peculiarity of the present
political situation that the line of
policy which has been most marked m
that of the Republican jmrty iri the
North ha* become, a* many of the
most influential Southern men and a
great mas* of the Kouthern jicople
hold, the dominant necessity South.
Any man who, with sufficientpolitical
following in the North, promise* the
South such measures of internal ini
provemt aa we stx-uk of, and with tlicrn
the aaeurauoe of security in their local
self-government, will l>e the controlling
spirit in Southern politics. The prc
ul political parties and organizations
will melt before bin influence*. If Mr.
Blanc had tuken the leadership of the
administration, it needed only hi* hold
and aggressive advocacy of new is
sues to make it the strongest party ad
ministration the Republican* have
ever had; nor could any of hi* rival*
withstood him; sulkilv, grudgingly,
iiertiaps, hut obediently, they must
have followed him, for hi* party would
quickly have seen that he pointed the
way to success.
But instead of dividing the South
| and rallying the larger half of it to
hi* own side and to the Republican
banners, he ha* chosen to do that
which can only make it* solidity more
'solid; he has helped the Democratic
! party past its greatest peril, and he
ha* done what he could do to injure
j the country at large by prolonging
sectional dissension*. And, after all,
he ha* not advanced his own career,
; hut the contrary,
A TK.MJIC WKDDINti.
A flllixr DROPS HEAD Of HEART DIS
EASE Will EE I'EKFOKMINU A
It A RRI AOE i T.UKMOX Y.
. Irt.rn It- svw York It' rald,]
The wedding of Charles M. Bren
nan, the son of Commissioner Owen
Brcnnnn, to Mi** Mela Pectuch, had
IMX-II set down for la-t night, aud in the
I church of St. Franci* Xavier, in Six
teenth street, where the nuptial cere
mony wa* to IK- performed, great pre
paration* hurl been made. Originally
it was intended to have the couple
wedded over a ww-k ago, but the de
mise of Matthew T. Brcnnau on the
-lav which had Ix-en chosen necessitat
ed |KMtponemenL Lift night the
church wa* crowded with a gay and
brilliant gathering. The pew* were
tilled with ladies and gentlemen in
rich attire, and all through the length
and breadth of the edifice, silk* shim
mered aud diamond* sparkled. The
altar wa* a perfect blaze of light, and
in the floral splendor which decked it
the orange blossoms, significant of the
joyful nature of the occasion, appear
ed in cluster* aud bouquets. At about
half-past seveu o'clock a soft prelude
floated down from the organ loft,
which deepened in volume as the doors
at the middle aisle were thrown open.
Then the glad strains of the wedding
march pealed out as the bridal party
cntercd. In pure white raiment, with
a few choice and costly ornaments,
setting off the natural beauty of ber
face. Miss Peelsch looked very charm
ing, and when she took her place by
the groom's side in front of the sanc
tuary railing, and the three brides
maids drew up behind her, the eyes of
the whole congregation rested on the
couple. Then the Rev. Alphonsus P.
I'elietier appeared with the acloytc*
and several clerical assistants. Mr.
Brennan hail been a pupil of his in
the past and it was a duty of affection
to utter the word* that would make
the young man and hi* bride one.
Contrary to the general custom in the
Catholic Church, Father Pelletier wa*
to address a few word* of exhortation
and ail vice to the young couple, and
hi* manner wa* quiet impressive.
He stood l>efor the altar and turn
ed to address them. He ipokc in a
clear, fining tone of voice aud outside
of a faint Huxh upon his cheekf he
seemed calm and self-poascased. Bride
nod groom stood hand in hand in front
of hiin, and hia eye# rested on them
a# he extended hi* hand in an attitude
of benediction. At that moment hi#
voice tailored, hit* face #tiddeniv paled
and he fell forward at the foot of the
sanctuary railing*. There wa a mo
ment of excitement aud #u#pcn#c, du
ring which the face# of the onlooker#
showed anxiety aud alarm, ami the
stillness wa# broken by the rustling of
drc## and a great craning of oeeks.
Then the a##i*ting clergymen lifted
Father Belletier up. He wa# breath
ing faintly, but hi# face wa# ghastly,
and it wa# clear that the hand of
death wa# upon him. They carried
him into the vestry, uttered the word#
of abfolution and eought to apply res
torative#. But it wa# of no avail. A
few weak pulsation* of the heart and
then life passed away. The celebrant
of the marriage hail been stricken
dead with heart disease while the con
gratulatory wont* he addressed to hia
old pupil were freah upon hia lipa.
The situation wa# certainly a trying
one to both bride and groom. Hap
pily, however, they did not appreciate
the filial rignifg wee of the priest's
faltering voice and that heavy fall
upon the altar steps. They" stood
calmly till the vestry door closed upon
the dying man and then, in the flutter
of excitement that followed, they drew
back for a moment and waited till the
door opened again. This time Father
Merrick appeared. He mounted the
altar step and uttered some reassur
ing remark* calculated to satisfy the
congregation, and then he very happi
ly took up the ceremony which had
been so tragically interrupted and
went on to the end, when he pronto.fi
red the young couple man and wife.
Then the organ pealed out again the
joytome strains and the bridal piny
I moved out, followed by the throng,
who were not aware that the celebrant
was lying in his sacerdotal robes—life*
i less.
A Discharge of <rap.
[From llw Washington V+4.)
The moan* of the wounded will be
heard from every direction a* the re
, suit of the first day's investigation of
the much talked of 'cipher dispatches.'
The rubicund face of VMA h. < "handler
will grow more ruddy when lie learn*
that the evidence of hi* malfeasance in
the sale of public office* for money to
j Is; used in corrupting the voters of In
diana ha* been made public in spite of
Postmaster-General Tyuer's frantic ef*
! forts to destroy it. To bring down at
one blow two cabinet officials is not,
HI far a* result* are concerned, a bail
J day'* work, even for a Potter commit
, tee.
It i* already proven beyond a doubt
or cavil that there were as many "ci
t pher" telegram* sent by the ilays
i people a* by the Democrats; that
j while Mr. < )rton was juggling with the
IX-mocralic House all the political
. dispatches were gathered together and
sent to the Republican Senate; that
Morton overhauled them, and that
I Bullock, his clerk, sorted them ; that
the Democratic "ciphers" were ab
stracted a* well a* the Republican
"ciphersthat the last name] were
destroyed through the intervention of
Bullock, General Brady, of the Post
office deportment, and ex-Congressman
Kvaos; that the Democratic dispatch
e* were copied, and finally handed over
Ito the New York Tribune ; that Bul
i lock, for hi* theft, was appointed con
sul to Cologne, where lie can make
contribution of a new and distinct
stink, and that after all this was done
the remainder of the dispatches, Imr
; ring a very few of Republican paterni
ty but innocuous character, which
were dumped on Butler's library table,
were sent to New York, and there os
tentatiously burned.
The fact being established that the
Republican cipher* were equally as
j voluminous a* those that have been
credited to the Democrats; that they
| were of sufficient importance to justify
a theft, such a* Bullock admit* he
committed, we art-at liberty in law aud
good morals to attribute the worst
[MHSIBLE meaning to them. Tficre is
not a particle of doubt that they uould
\ show that fire hundred thousand dollars
mere raised in Xew York to purchase
the, state of Florida alone. Taken al
together, we do not at all regret the
| energy of the Tribune in bringing to
light the evidences of Democratic
j wrong-doing. Kven if all that it al
-1 leges lie true, it ha killed but one man,
I while the Jx-mocratic gun i* loaded
| with graj*" and bids fair to mow down
i "leading Republicans" by platoons.
Call Tyner, Brady and the two Chand
| Icrs, but more especially Zacariah.
A Novel Campaign.
1
Among the recent dead of Congress
i* Gustav Schleicher, who represented
the largest district in the country. It
took in the whole southwestern part
of Texas, from the Mexican frontier
j half-way across the- State away beyond
' i"*au Antonio. Delaware, Rhode Is
land and New Jersey could bare been
packed away in it without covering
all the ground. To hold a convention
in that district was not the work of a
day or a week. Whin the convention
was called in 1874 there were two
candidates in the field whose strength
was about equal. The convention was
called to meet at Brownsville, and
there were about 125 delegates. The
party from Antonio expected a
siege, aud made preparations. They
i hired a good cook, laid in two or three
| wagon-load of supplies, and started.
It was almost a two weeks' journey,
j and they took it leisurely. On arriv
; ing at Brownsville they pitched their
' tent, unlimhered the boxes of proven
der, and they were ready for the fight.
I>ay after day the balloting went ou,
always with the same result, and the
| end apparently a* far off as ever. Fi
nally the supply of ice began to grow
j beautifully leas, and even the whisky
was low in the barrel. With the dis
sipation of the ice and the failure of
j the commissary it was evident that
| something must be done. The thir
; tieth day of the convention was ap
) proaching, when an old stage-driver
; got un, and, after eulogizing the two
| candidates, said that he wanted to
j make a suggestion. There was one
man who knew the whole f*iate of
! Texas. It was a big State, and there
was only one mnn who had tramped
all over it- That roan was Gus
Schleicher. He knew every foot of it
!as a surveyor. Besides that, he was
! an honest man and one whom all the
| boys could trust. He did not want to
say anything, but on the oext ballot
he should give ha vote for Schleicher.
No one had thought of it, but the ef
fect was electrical. The voting had
hardly begun when the end was plain,
and one of the candidates withdrew
his name. Hchlecher was nominated
and the nomination made unanimous.
No one was more surprised than be
himself. He was jwvh!ess, and when
they called upon him he could nut
say a word. He had never thought
of the office as one that be could aspics
to, for the fropetition was bitter, aud
between two popular and able lawrore.
He attempted to say something.' hut
bun* into U*r and sat down. Tim
hop gave htm another round eg
dawn, and from that day to this Ml
a man to that convention ever regret*
ted the rut* thnt.be gave,