HISTORIC PARIS.
BY ovin r. JOIINSCX.
PLACE PE I.A CONCORPK.
There is a piece of territory shaped
almost like a parallelogram extending
from the heart of tlio city of Paris
westwardly a little more than a mile
and averaging in width probably a
quarter of a mile. In order more
clearly to describe it 1 will divide it
into four sections by drawing three
imagiuury lines straight across it from
north to south. The section at the
eastern end or nearest to the centre
of the city, is occupied bv buildings.
The first of which is the old Louvre—
a large square structure with an ojsei
court in the centre —known as the
court of the Louvre, from this struc
ture the new Louvre stretches virtually
iu two parallel piles of huildiug, skirt
ing opposite edges of the section until
they reach the one, the northern, the
other, the southern extreme of the
palace of the Tuileries, which latter
(iu ruins since 1871) passes across
what I designate at the parallelogram.
The immense space thus inclosed by
the one side of the old Louvre, both
wings of the new Louvre and the
palace of the Tuileries is for a short
distance known as the Place Napoleon,
then the Place du Carrousel, and last
ly beyond the high iron railingstretch
ing aeross the space, the Court of the
Tuileries. The second section of the
parallelogram is occupied by the ex
tensive and picturesque garden of the
Tuileries. The third section which
presents a vast, hare, yet imposiiig
appearance, void of Mil decoration
hut mouumeiit* and fountains and
which might be said to be the heart
of the parallelogram, for it is
almost equi- listant from either end
of it, is the subject of this sketch,
"Place de la Concorde," and the fourth j
and longest section is entirely taken J
up by the Champ* Elysees. These
names are familiar with the student
of history, and that oue wilt concede ,
that there is no spot on all the globe, 1
reckoning its eventful associations'
froin the close of the middle ages to
the preseut, more historic lliun this
]>arallelogram.
In the centre of the Palace de la
Concorde, from a base prepared for it j
rises the obelisk <f Luxor, a tall
Egyptain monolith that stood before
the temple of Tilda's far hack about
the almost forgotten days of Hesostri*.
It had seen the centuries when Troy
was destroyed. It was ancient and
gray and a relic of another age when
Romulus founded Rome. Its liiero- !
glyphicx, so distinctly defined ax
though produced hut yesterday, were ,
tracts] and carved by hands that ceased
to labor thirty-three hundred years
ago. This contemporary of the'
sphinx ami of the pyramids, turned
away from its antique some forty years
since, traversed desert and sea to finish
out its days among the modern of au-1
other continent, and the marvel is that
this is not already au accomplished
fact, for the most desperately contest
ed barricade of the late communist
insurrection stood across the Rue Rot 1 *
ai just facing the obelisk. The adorn-1
muts about it suffered almost to de
struction, whilst it, strange to relate,
escaped uninjured.
Place yourself at it* base; the two
rather new looking buildings of beau-,
tiful and rich dewign fronting on the
Rue Kivoli (which street hems the
northern edge of the Place), and
separated from each other by the Rue
Rovalc. a short street running at right
angles with the Rue Kivoli, were built
beiore the revolution as the "Garde
Meuble de la Couronne," a safe de- |
posit for valuable crown pro|>erty.
The one on the right is now used ax I
the Ministerc of Marine. It WHS from
this building in 1792 that forty thieve*
made a partially successful attempt to
carry away the crown jewels, a* also
the valuable diamond- of Cardinal
Richelieu. The magnificent temple
surrounded with columux, standing at
the more distant end of the Rue Roy
al, that is the church of the Madeleine.
Turn to the south. The river Heine
flows along that side; the bridge span- j
ning here wa* built of stone* taken
from the notorious Hostile. The large
building decorated with statuary near
the other end of the bridge, is the Pa
lais Bourbon now Palais du Corps
Legixlatif. The great guilt dome a
little beyond, is the domo of the In
valided Turn to the east. The
hunch of trees and shrubbery spread
ing away in that direction is the Gar
den of the Tuileries. Looking lie
tween the sculptures of Fame and
Mercury mounted each upon a pegn
sus —adorning the sides of the en
trance into the Garden —the smoked
and ragged walls seen peeping up be
yond are the ruins of the Palace
of the Tuileries. The dense sea of
foliage on the west is the
amps Elysees. The (great wide
► avenue coursina its centre is the "Av
enue of the Champs Elysees" —the
fashionable drive of Paris. Those
hugely designed marbles upon high
pedestal* standing upon either side of
I lie entrance to the avenue counter
balancing Fame and Mercury each of
a horse tamer struggling with a horse
are "the Horses of Marly." Thejr
are familiar figures to many Ameri
cans at first sight through a cheap
plaster copy errooeously termed "AI
. ezander and Bucepbalns"—scattered
in perfusion through the eastern and
middle states. Far out on the avenue
and beyond the parallelogram that
great heavy mass stretching over the
roadway Is said to be the largest and
most beautiful n<l triumphal arch in
existence —a project of Nucleoli l*t —
"The ureh of triumph of the star."
The immense stone statues in seated
posture circling the interior of the
place about you cnch upon an elevat
ed block banc [represent the citicM of
Lyons, Marseilles, Brest, Kouen, Nun
tes Bordeaux, Strasbourg ami Lille.
That oue conspicuous with crajic and
immortelle is, it is needles* to say,
Htrusbourg. The beautiful fountain
in bronze work nnd granito between
where you stand and the Hue Kivoli
is dedicated to the rivers, the Rhine
and the Rhone, from the chief alle
gorical representations, and the figures
emblematic of corn, wine, fruit and
flowers, represent the productions of
the country. The companion fountain
between where you stand nnd the Heine
is dedicated to the seas, its chief repre
sentations are the I'acifie ocean and
the Mediterranean scu, and the minor
figures are significant of four sorts of
fishery. If the weather is clear and
the hour between noon and four o'clock
or even later vou will we a perfect
stream of equipages and pedestrians
passing in and out of the uvcuuc of
the Cham |s Elyses, the Bois tie Bou
logne (or woods of Boulogne) lying
beyond the Areli of Triumph is the
loud stone drawing the map.
This vast square you have wen is
the Place de la ( oncorde of the pres
ent. In 1783 an equestrian statue of
of Louis XV was erected where the
obelisk is now located, and the square
was termed Place Louis XV. —
Great ditches then surrounded it
which were since filled up duting
the rule of Napoleon HI. On May
30. 1770, six hundred thousand people
gathered here to witness a pyrotechnic
displuy iu the honor of the marriage
of Louis XVI; from some cause u
panic ensued iu which almost twelve
ntiudred lives were lost. In 1702,
when France wax about turniug her
self into a republic, the statue of
Ivouis XV was demolished and a clay
statue of Liberty was subsequently
erected iu it* stead. Then the square
took the name of I'lace de la involu
tion. It was named successively
Place de la Concorde, Place de I/aiis
XV, Place de Loui* XVI, and again,
subsequent to 1830, Place de lu Con
corde, which name it has since con
tinuously retained.
Hhould you know the pa*t of -the
surroundings you must wonder how u
people who could build this most
Unutiful city and decorate * exquisi
tely all about you could be guilty of
the crimes history imputes to them.
This square has witnessed scenes
that must ever make France to blush
for the weakness and cruelty of her
people. It wax hero the guillotine
first plied its hloody task. Its labois
closed upou almost twenty-eight hun
dred decapitations iu twenty-eight
months.
The masses rendered indignant by j
the extravogauce of a disdute royalty
and a eorru|>t court, turned to that
last great resort of kbuied peoples
revolution. lutoxicated early with
the magnitude of their succt**, they
blindly staggered into excess; there
fore the continued horrors of the guil
lotine. It is ever when a nation is
oppressed and burdened beyond suf
ferance by its rulers, that it indignant
ly pretests in some manner. When
this indignation assumes the form of
open revolt, then popular fury is apt
to seek out the author of the hardship, j
and popular elainor to at least call for ,
his humiliation. Should the opprca- j
sion have rested with the weight of a
calamity, then popular clamor in
almost every instance demands the
extreme immolation of such an one,
that only seems to work the ultimate
degree of satisfaction. The revolution
sought for a victim, it was presented in
the JKTSOO of the vaseillating Iui* 16,
the man whose advent to the throne
these very people had hailed with joy,
and to whom thev had given the ap
pellation, "The Desired." His true
crime was that lie was a king descend
ed from a long race of kiugs. Ilia
mUforture was that he lived in on age
when the sentiments of men were ex* j
puuding with a new, strauge and lib
eral philosophy. Tried and condemn- I
cd. he was taken from his prison, the ;
Temple, on the 21*tof January, 1793,:
brought as far as the Rue Itoynle
thence out through it, between the j
same garde incuble that yet stand
! there—for what? To atone for the
wrongs and oppressions inflicted by
his progenitors. The great red frame
of the guillotine stood a short distance
l away from the pr*ent location of the
obelisk and towards where the foun
tain now stauds dedicated to the seas.
The man once a king, hut shrunk aud
resolved back into a mere human
creature, mounted its steps. A multi
tude of one hundred thousand tieoplc,
who were ouce hi* subjects, stood about
him; with hands tied he turned to-
I wards the east to address them. Hisul
| terances were brief, lest for the people
might weaken in uncertainty, the
' drums were ordered to drown his voice.
The executioners rudely dragged him
uway and under the axe. His confessor
who stood beside him stupefied by the
excitement of the hour unknowingly
exclaimed as the instrument swiftly
descended in its groove: "Son of St.
Isuii* ascend to heaven." Soldiers
colored their blades with the hluod as
though to consecrate them furies, with
the mein of women soaked their hand
kerchiefs in it and a fiend in the shape
of a man tasted it orying out "it is
shockingly hitter," locks of the hair
and the clothing were eagerly sought
fur aod parted among the rabble.
to
* V
When tho momentary excitement
passed away the revolution stood agast
ami stupefied at the sten it hud taken.
Had it stopped here futurity
have forgiven the deed, but no, thin
sacrifice instead of satisfying rendered
more intense it* zeal ami allowed how
far it* revenge could go, when reaction
followed it rolled mudiy on. In the
consummation of thin crime was it#
error.
Marat sprung from the degraded
sluius and haunts of tho great city,
sat a high priest in the carnival of
crime and eruelty, his proscriptions
were as sweeping und merciless as those
of the Roiiiuu Triuruvi rate of lx-pi
dus, Augustus und Antony. Tho
civilized world looked on in horror
until Charlotte Corday, a guileless
maiden from Normandy, sought the
capital and with a |s>ignurd obliterat
ed the monster. Her reasons were
many, a republican at heart, but not
a Jacobin. Hhc said: "I have killed
one man to save a hundred thousand."
A greut Frenchman of a later day
deprecated the crime, but admiring
her self sacrifice and its promptings
termed her "the Augel of Assassina
tion." She too perished in this square.
As the axe fell some flapped their
hands, others pitied her in silence, hut
when the executioner lifted the sever
ed head from the basket and struck
the cheek a blow, it is said a blush
suflbsed it. This atrocious barbarity
drew from the s|K-ctaU)rs an exclama
tion of horror and a tremor of aver
sion.
General Custine, a brave soldier
adored by the army, had iieeu unfor
tunate. He had erred,but not through
design. His trial was an empty form,
his condemnation u mockery and his
execution a murder. With his arms
pinioned he too came to his fate here,
rouquier Tinville, the public accuser
(who afterward* perished on the scaf
fold), superintended the accusations.
Now the Reigu of Terror found for
him the enemies to the republic and
the guillotine was her uitar upon
which he immolated them. To lie
sus|K-cted was a crime punished with
death. Marie Antoinette, daughter of
Maria Tlier*a of Austria ami widow
of I/>uis XVI. had languished in
prison lor sixteen months, tried and
condemned. She was hi ought here
with hound hands from the Coucicr
gerie over the i'ont au Outage subject
to every insult. The mob laughed, it
was for them a fete day in the Uue St.
Honors. A non-juring priest hidden
away, from an upper window gave her
absolution. When the tumbrel in
which she sat reached the square it
halted for u moment near the turning
bridge which then connected the place
with the garden of the Tuilericn at the
entrance now adorned by the figures
of Fame and Mercury. As the eyes
of the woman mechanically wumlcrcd
over her palace of the Tuilories tear*
welled into thdhi. Sxili she was at
the foot of the scaffold, liravely she
asceuiled its ladder and wras IMIUIHI to
the plank. It is said that when Sam
son, the heaiismau, loosened the steel
that terminated her life, though execu
tions were with him a business of daily
occurrence, he on this occasion trem
bled from head to foot.
The party in the national assembly
known as the Girondists was led and
guided through the treacherous quick
sands of the revolution by some of the
brightest intellects of France, though
there w ere those among its leaders who
had voted for the death of the mon
arch, yet it was classid a the more
moderate clement The mutability of
public opinion saw only iu this mod
eration a fault; twenty-two of its num-
IHT fell under the banc of accusation
and were cast into the cells of the
Conciergeric. Among them Verguiaud,
an orator of that finished class that
attracts and impresses by the lieautv
of eloqueuce and convinces by pro
found argument; Gcnsonnc, one of
these clear reasoning mind* thnt rijieii
into the great statesman if allowed to
jtrow; Hillery, learned, upright nml
intrepid, three qualities which cum
hincd go far to make the great man ;
Krissot, honest, fearless and able had
solved the time* as deliberately a* the
mathematician solves the problem, he
accept**! it* results not with regret for
hims'lf, hut with pity for the rest of *
mankind. Fauchet, bishop of Cal- !
vado*, one of those intellectual giant*
whom the revolution fouud a chnreh
mail. It whispered into his soul ami
lie descended frim the pulpit to as
cend into the tribune—though meta
morphosed to the invmau yet was he
still the religious, clinging to the sac
redotal semblance his garb wis more a
cassock than a toga. Tried and con
demned one of their number Valaze
sunk by hi* own hand in death before
his judges. Hut the Imrlwrian* that
sentenced the dead to be conveyed with
the living that all might share a com
mon grave, as though to avenge the
axe for the loss of a victim by cont
inuing the presence of the inanimate
clay at the extermination of what had
licen its companion* in life. The?
met their fate in this square not with
sacrilegious defiance but boldly and
with that stoical indifference that
characterized the sacrificed of the rev
olution. They were great men whom
the era produred but to destroy.
Philippe, Duke of Orleans, known
as Philip Kgalite (Kqiiality), a title lie
assumed in the repuhfienn times,
father of Louis Philippe, late king of
the French, was a man of immense
wealth. Ho lived in and owned the
Palais Koyal, which still stands (par
tially destroyed by the communists of
1871 but liuce restored). Of dissolute
habits, ho swum boldly into the niiul
strom of the revolution. Ho nasocia
ted hiiuflelf with the cause of the mas
ses, but was at length swallowed up in
the vortex that cugulphcd friend and
foe. He 100 perished hero, hpt with a
cool, strange indifference, dress,*) j n
the height of fashion, he ascended
iijsin the platform of the acutfold.
'I lie cxecutiouers among them express
ed a lietievolent desire to first remove
his boots. '-No, no; )ou will do it
more easily afterwards," he remarked,
and perished with the joke on his lips.
General Horn-hard, commanded the
French army in the north, was victo
rious ut the battle of Houdschoote, but
tardy about completing his success he
was condemned for gaining only half
a victory, and here terminated his
career beneath the axe.
A little French girl, who held in
her hand a copy of Plutarch's lives,
was asked why she was weeping: -'I
weep," replied she, "because 1 was
uot horn u Roman maiden." A quar
ter of a century later a woman stood
with her hand upon a lever and a
throne that held a royally ruling over
w hat wa.-> once a vast province of Ro
man conquest trembled. The child
was the daughter of an engraver at
l'aris; the woman was known in his
tory as Madam Roland—they were
one uud the same person—inspired
with the seiitiineiit of republicanism
she confidently plunged into the revo
lution. What Mintix-ait had Ix-cn to
it in its infancy she was to it iu its
youth. Brilliant in diplomacy the
suggestions of her opinion were sought
for by the less violent of the assembly ;
she was to them, what the compass is
to the mariner. This prestige wu* but
ephemeral, her dream of n republic
faded away, and she surveyed from
the scaffold its vapory ruins, slowly
dissipating into empty air. Turning
from the axe and laming to the clay
statute that decorated the sjsit pre
vious to the obelisk she uttered this
memorable sentence, "Oh Liberty,
Liberty how many crimes are com
mitted in thy name!"
Madam Du Rarrv by self degrada
tion hud climlx-d to opulence and be
come a jmwer at the degraded court of
Louis XV. His unfortunate successor
thrusts her aside. When the revolu
tion came, she hurriedly buried her
treasure and fled to Knglaud. At
length tempted back to France with
the hope of securing it, she was be
trayed by tlx- base ingratitude fa
negro upon whom she bad lavi-bCd
favor and she endt-d her davs here.
"Life, life, life, for my rvj>entanoo;
life lr all iuy devotion to the repub
lic; life for ul! mv riches to the na
tion such were her cries, but her
tears and lamentation* were in vain.
The popnlnce knew its victim and they
returned applause iu lieu of comniiascr
ation.
General Hiron; though H noble mid
a courtier, had fought with I Afayctle
on thi. side of the ocean for American
independence. later he returned and
offered the service* of hi* sword to the
revolution, hrave, courageous and pop
lar, he became one of it* greatest gen
eral*, a pretext presented and ho met
death beside thi* Magdalen, with an
air of nonchalance. The contract of
which rendered more conspicuous her
lack of womanly courage. Kach
equally debased the final hour, the
woman by craven conduct and the
man hv forced bravado.
Camille Dcxmoulins and Dnntou,
ruling spirit* of a faction, had *ent
number* to the scaffold, but soon they
liecume in their turn an object for de
struction, and they perished here be
neath the axe they had so often caused
to descend upon their enemies. When
the Prussian troop* occupied the citv
of Verduu the inhabitant* gave a bail
in honor of the occasion, for they im
agined they saw in it the overthrow of
r*l republicanism. Sane children had
luuoeently taken part in the festivities
of the occasion. When the republican
troop* again occupied the city those
children were sent to Pari* for trial —
condemned —thev were brought here i
for execution. The people looked on,
stupefied with an|ii-cincut and horror
nt the sacrifice of this innocence. On
the morning tluft followed the tum
brel* rolled again to this place of
death. Now it was the abiw*s and
nun* of the Abbey of Montmartre who i
were martyrized en inn** then the vi-1
einily rose in indignatiou against this
uuholy use of the place and the great |
instrument of death wa forced away
and set up iu Barriere du Trone. So
great bed lieen the numlier executed
here that the very soil re (used to re
ceive within it the blood spilled ; it
stood iu coagulated pools. Finally the
guillotine found its way back, but the
melt who stood tinder it frame-work
Isiund for execution were those who
had mused it to work the more fre
quently — Kola-spier rv aud his brother,
with Oouthou lieu riot and St. Just,
the last remnants of a cable stained
with the blood of their fellow crea
ture?. Men of genius hut devils in
heart, despised and unpilcd they went
under the axe and the last sound that
greeted their ears was the plaudit of
those whose idols they had been.
The blade now fell at longer inter
vals and ujion fewer victims. Soon it
rusted iu its inaction and was brushed
away as a useless thing of the past.
Then the "empire, bearing aloft to for
eign lands, the flaming torch of war
and desolation iu one hand and the
•hackle* to follow conquest in the
other. Kach nation in iu tnrn failed
to juggle the Ckwar of tin? eighteenth
century, till men of Groat Briliao,
hardy Bweeds from the shorn of the
Baltic, wild and almost barbaric Gu*-
sncks from the banks of the Don and
all the steppes of Russia, Prussians
from tin-, hills of the Rhine, and Aus
tria us from the regions watered by the
Danube, combined and overwhelmed
him. More than twenty-one vears
have elapsed since the death of f/iuis
XVI, it is now the 10th day of April,
IHI4, the victorious Allies hold this
place, crowned tnonarcbs are present.
Hark ! a solemn service ascends, it is
the long delayed funeral riles of the
murdered king, whose blood rendered
liuilowed in the eyes of kings this spot.
Dix* it not rebuke the ambition of the
dead republic and hurl back into the
face of France the recollection of the
crime of the revolution?
This is an outline of the history of
the Place dc la Concorde—-over and
over again has it Ix-en the scenes of
stormy and terrible outbreaks, for
nearly every tumultuous rising of the
populace has stained the place with
blood, yet look about you, and so ef
fectually are the traces of discord
wi|s.-d away, and so peaceful seem all
the circumstances, that one can hardly
credit the tale.
♦
TIIK HKFXOItIAN CHANT.
the i-ore's aacRKE i-NirrixociicacH msic
IX THE M'lNl.N connexion.
YT- m lit# fall Mfcll Oa/#t<.]
Through the medium of its s|>ecial
tires*, the Vatican has lately made
mown to the world a brief in which
Pope Je XIII., completing a work
already begun by Pius IX., decr<6<
the unification of church music in all
Roiiiuu < 'atbolic churches throughout
the world. Pio Nono had considered
that it would be more seemly, and that
it would, as it were, solidify the faith,
if, instead of their ls-ing as at present
one form of mnsic used iu one country
another in another, there should arise
one sound of song, as there is but one
form of prayer, throughout latin
Christendom; und to this end he in
structed the Sacred Congregation of
Rites to se< k out ami re-write for mod
ern use the old Gregorian chant in
its original purity. As long ago a the
Council of Trent the revision or
ameudmuit of the missal and breviary
was placed in the bands of the Popes ;
and in one of its sittings the Council
|ecinlly condemmsl by n decree "De
< )1m rvantlis et Kvilandi* in Celebra
tione Missic" the introduction of im
pure, ami, as it was quaintly termed,
lascivious, music either in tue intru
mcutal or vocal part of the service.
Sne years after the Council I'opc
Pius \ . (afterwards canonized) autho
rized the issue of a missal and breviary
reformed according to the intention of
the Council, to which, in the form of
nn appendix, n corrected form of
church music was intended to be add
ed. Some authorities desired to ad-
here rigidly to the "canto fermo" of
the Gregorian chant, to the absolute
i exclusion of all harmouy, but at this
time Picrluigi da Pahwtrina and Gui
dctli had la-gun to write, and their
i church music charmed all cars, and
was considered so pure and diviue thnt
it silenced opposition and was even
approved hv sjtecial official letter
from Sixtus V. There had previously
Itccti issued "for the use of all churches
and colleges," a collection of nntiphoti*
selected from ancient ones and those
still in use; ami this selection, revised
by Palestrina and reported on a* the
j most correct, is still in the hand* of
choirs and i* the one recognized
I throughout the Church. The original
copy presented to Gregory XIII., the
then Pontitf, who had granted a sort of
copywrighl to the author, i* still pre
served in the Yantican Library.
Thing* were at this point when, during
the reign of Paul V., in 1014, there
appeared a Gradual, which ha* since
been known a* the Mcdicean Gradual,
from the press whence it issued.
This was specially recommended to the
Church by a pontifical brief, a* being
the most correct type of ecclesiastical
music and a* the first authentic edition
of that branch of the Sacred Liturgy.
A copy of thi* also is preserved in the
Vatican Library, beiug the one pre
sented to Paul V. From that time to
thi* no other authorized version of the
musical part of the Church service had
bceu put forward, until Pius IX., de
siriou* to supply the ucod for it, ami
|erhaps also from a pardonable desire
to be remembered by posterity as the
completer of the service used by tho
Church, nominated a commission of
professors of music and others to un
dertake the work, following out the
lines already laid down, under the
direction of the Sacred Congregation
of Kite*. The men api?oiiitcd were
Monsigoor Luigi lticci, C'anou of the
Libcriau Basilica, as president; Pro
lessor Tominaao Carosi, Chamberlain
of the Pontifical Chapel; Cavaliero G.
Cn|*cei t master of the Cappella I'ia
I jiterancnse; and Gavalicro 8. Me
luzzi, master of the Cappella Giulia
Yaticana; and these with the assist
a nee of the codes aud choral books
preserved in Home and elsewhere, and
following as nearly as possible the
text of the books preserved in the
Pajal archives, completed the work
lieguu uuder Paul V. The Mcdicean
Gradual had first to be reprinted—a
work entrusted to Cavalicro F. Pustet,
of Ilati*boii, editor to the Congrega
tion of Kites ; and while this was do
ing the Antiphunary, Psaltery and
Hymnal were Wing prepared after the
Venetian edition of l'iotro Licbton
strin, printed in 1567. During the
lifetime of Pit* Nono only the Gradual
was completed; the Auttphonary was
about to issue from the prees when he
•lied. Under hi* successor tins work
lias been brought to perfection: and a*
both the Pauline or Medicean edition
and those part* of the Gradual Issued
during the lifetime of Pitta IX. had
been preceded by Apostolic briefs, the
remainder of the work i prefaced by
u hri.-f in which Ix-o XllL,after set
ting forth the reason* for itnexecution,
add* : "I tuque incmoratum cditionem,
a viri* ecclesiaxltci caulus npprirne
|<eriti*, ad id a H. H. Kiluuin Congre
gationc dcputatix, rev it-am, prolmmu*
atcquc autheoticam declaration*, rever
endiMHtinia locorutn ordiiiurii*, en-tori*-
qtic, quibu* unmet*, sacrse cura est,
vchementer, commendatnus; id poti*-
simum specta rites, ut hie etinctU in
loci* ju; diocesbu*, curn in cseteri* qtue
ad Hocrara Liturgiam pertinent, turn
etiam in eantu, una eademque ratio
M-rverturqua Itoinana utitur Lccle ia."
Notwithstanding, however, this approv
al and direction for general use, it
seems that some churchea, especially in
France, do not accept the new edition,
denying that it contains the true Gre
gorian chant—an objection which it
seems French choirs made to the Ro
man style of singing so Jong ago as
when Charlemagne came to Rome,
though apparently then with little Mic
ros, lor he answered them, "Which is
)ik<-|y pi la; purer, the spring or the
streams that run from it?" and order
ed them to return in the original chant
of Gregory the Great.
CONTRADICTING ST. MARTIN.
Ml Dim* OX THE STAND— DENTIN*) TUE
STATEMENTS or MIEBMAN's WITNESS.
Wahhikotoji, February <). —The
Potter committee met to-dav, Messrs.
Potter, Morrison, lilackburu, McMa
hon and Cox present.
General Lyman Sheldon, one of the
Haves doctors in 1870, was sworn,
and made a brief statement relative
to the certificates which have been
claimed to contain forged signatures.
He k new of no forgeries iiaviug lieeu
committed. He was quite positive
that Governor Kellogg, Mr. Birch,
Morris Marks aud himself signed at
the same time. He thought H. Con
quest Clarke, Governor Kellogg's sec
retary, was present at the time they
signed.
Jooseph H. Maddox was examined
relative to the charge contained in the
affidavit of Mr. St. Martin. Maddox
denied every as-erf ion made by St.
Martin, and said that he never cou
versed with St Martin previous to his
appintmcnt as Deputy Sergeant-at-
Arm- on the Iuifiaiia sub-comrnittoe.
He thought, however, that through his
influence St. Martin secured his nje
poiutment, he having mentioned hftu
as a good man for the place. He never
gave St Martin *ub|o-na* to serve
upon witnesses; did not witness* the
j examination of Dula by the sub-com
mittee and had notliing to do with the
preparation of the testimony of the
witnesses in New Orleans until after
the terminalion of Dula's examination.
He ha<l frequent conversations with
Weber in regard to certain witnesses
who Weber claimed would corroborate
his testimony. Maddox'* duty iu New
< frlcan* was to interview witucases
when they arrived iu the city, ascer
tain all the jNiints of the testimony
they would give and prepare a metuo
random thereof for the guidanoe of
the Democratic members of the sub
committee.
MRS. SENATOR BKI'CB A FAVORITE
IN OFFICIAL SOCIAL CIRCLES.
i Ww>M(ln Utlr Ui U,. auutkorr Anwrku ]
When Mrs. Bruce took up her resi
dence here the first person to pay her
social respects to the bride was the
wife of the President. She was so
much pleased with Mrs. Brace's lady
like hearing that she repeated her
' visit, aud then soon followed nearly
all the Senators' and a large number
iof members' wives. Of course, the
Cabinet ladies were not behind hand
in their respect*, and as is the custom
here, after the wife of the Secretary
of State had by calling formally in
troduced Mrs. Brace into Washington
society, visits became general—so
much so in fact that time has not al
lowed of their being repaid. Every
j one who has called at Senator Brace's
j residence, at No. 909 M street where
he has recently removed from College
Hill, speaks in glowing terms of his
wife, ller beauty and ber accomplish
ments are both praised, and even those
who went to see her, more to gratify a
I love of curiosity than anything else,
| accord her a full meed of praise.
Mrs. Brace before her marriage was
Miss Josephine Wilson, daughter
of Dr. Wilson, a wealthy cttiaen of
Cleveland, Ohio. She graduated with
high honors at the Cleveland High
School, ami speaks French and Ger
man fluently. She is of fine | rcs.-nce;
her complexion is a rich olive, her
hair jet black, silken in quantity and
louslrous in hue; eyes are full and
dark and teeth perfect. There is a
Saee in her mauuers that bespeaks
e perfect lady. She resembles close
ly what we ail imagine a beautiful
S|*uiu>h lady to he, and no one cogni
sant of her birth could trace any
signs of African blood. I have often
heard in the South that these signs
were unmistakable, aud, no matter
bow fair in complexion and how far
removed from the negro, the marks of
Africau blood were always visible.
Mr*. Brace pit* such theories to flight
Senator Brace is of the color designat
ed In the south as "saddlc-colored,"
and ia a 250-pvuuder.