THE . 6CRABT0N TRIBUKE WEDNESDAY MOENING, MABCII 4, 1896. 0 NOT MM THEIR FAME Unworthy Characters ho Have Be- come Popular CIdtals. ALL FRAUDS OP HIGH DEGREE tympath Wasted oa atra aaa Womea Who Deserved Their FaM-AiiUtto d Poetlo Heroes and Herolaes Who Merited the Gallows. from the Globe-Democrat, ' .' Although the world has the reputa tion of being terribly hard-hearted, it is not devoid of sympathy for misfor tune, particularly when the misfortune occur to a person of high station,, or when it has attracted the attention of some writer able to tell about it in a style that compelled the world to listen. Then, indeed, the world pours forth ifs tears, bewails th. cruelty of fate- and weeps over sorrows that came to an end several centuries ego, as though they were of yesterday and could be Softened by this lavish display of ten derness, iluman nature is full of con tradictions, and not the least strange of the number Is that impulse which causes people to grieve over the woes of some historic character and neglect the misery .that is dally furced upon their notice. Time, in such cuses. lias the same effect In historical narrative that distance gives to a landscape: u softens all the asperltles'of character, tones down the rugged points and pre sents a harmonious outline to the eve pf the observer. A notable of history. ;ooket at across a gup of three or four hundreds, or as many thousands ot years, is like a mountain seen from a lung' distance the general outline only Is observed, the details, the roughness, can not be seen. Only by close exami nation, by mulling ourselves as far as possible the contemporaries of the man or woman whom we would study, do we gain a proper Idea of the real character. Of course. It Is possible for the con- extremely false ideas; to underrate or over-estimate the man or woman who lived In their midst, and sui h aberra tions of opinion are sometimes correct ed and sometimes conllrmed by pos terity, so that It is quite within the bounds of possibility for historic mis takes to be perpetuated from age to age simply from the sympathy felt for the sufferer. ' . FALSEHOODS OP HISTORY. "Read me anything but history," said Kngland's greatest statesman on his deathbed, "that, I know, Is not true," and the apparently strange and harsh statement Is fully borne out by a study of the manner in which the historians have- been biased by their sympathies in dealing with dozens of characters. Some, utterly detestable, have been so transformed by the sympathy of the historical writers that they become of almost superhuman excellence; others, only moderately wicked, have been pronounced monsters of vice, while oth ers again, men and women, In their own time, of good repute, who .lived hon est upright lives, are either altogether forgotten or are remembered in that half-slighting way that is worse than oblivion. Many men and women have been made the pets of the historian. He will acknowledge for the sake of ar gument, that they were not all that they should have been; that here and there they deviated from the strict paths of rectitude, but there Is always some 'excuse for their shortcomings; they were not quite so much to blame as they looked, In fact, they were hard ly to blame at all. Of course, there was wrong doing In the case, but the fault was that of some one elese. on whom the blame Is promptly saddled, and, whether he deserves It or not, he is forced to carry it, for the world has made up Its mind on the subject, and it is useless to try to effect a change in its opinion. For history has Its scape goats, and not only are all the vices ana crimes or & wnoie race ui grueia ..ilori loaded oh the back of one man, but 'often all the discredit of a long life of Vlclousness Is transferred from the Shoulders of a pet of history to the back of a contemporary in order that the pet may go free. MART STUART. " One of the most highly favored of history's pets was Mary, queen of Scots. To use a familiar colloquialism, nothing 1s too good for her at the hands of the historians. Orave writers, men of in telligence and probity, have moaned over her long confinement and sad tak ing oft as though these were afflictions personal to themselves; women have wept over her sorrows as though these .were their own; she has been exalted to such a pitch that not many years ago a proposition was gravely discussed to present to the church her claims to sainthood. Yet nothing is more certain than that the sufferings and execution of this woman were the result of her own crimes. There is little doubt that 'she was one of the gayest young women of the French court while she was the wife of the Dauphin, for the memory of her intrigues at that period has come down to the present day: there is none at all that she was unfaithful to Darn ley, and was the leading spirit In the rplot to murder him. This is the only murder, in her long career of crime, that can be directly traced home to her, but-the people of her own time suspect ed her of several others, and probably Hot without good cause. Her faithless ness was so well known that the coun selors of Elizabeth, much as they dis liked to take the step, were compelled to lock her up as soon as she sat her foot - in Knglaud, and during the whole time of her imprisonment she was perpetual ly engaged In plots, one after another, until it was found out that the only way to make her good was to cut oft - her head. This was done, and at once all the sympathy of Christendom was enlisted in her behalf; her murders and other peccadillos were forgotten, and "ihe Is deemed a. suitable subject for fSunday-scliool tableaux. THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. '. Napoleon's first wife Is the object of an endless amount of sympathy, solely .on account of the fact that she was divorced against her will. Writers who ought to know better bitterly inveigh against Napoleon for his treatment of 'her, one going so far as to declare that Napoleon's good fortune deserted him as he deserted Josephine, and came as a punishment for his Injustice. The truth is that Josephine's infidelities nnd frivolities were so numerous that Na poleon had abundant cause for divorce long before he actually sought and pro cured a Jegal separation. Among the annalists of Napoleon's court were a number of very clever women, who, in their narratives, give much attention to tne aally doings of the Imperial cir cle, and among these gossips, a great . deal of unquestioned truth about Jo sephine came out. As regularly os Na poleon' left Paris on a campaign Just so regularly did his wife engage in some new scandalous affair. It Is true that ; tne emperor was no better, bufthat fact does, not excuse the unfaithfulness of , Josephine. The emperor was long kept In. Ignorance of her doings, for he ap- of herrbut when once he learned part of the truth his spies soon put him In possession of all the rest. With this ... ... ..ruium-iieu jfMB. - nhlne with her misconduct, and gave her to understand what-were his inten- ,lnna 1V airnl.l AnKK.hli.. l , Jiowever, end for the sake of his own 4itmv, aiivMiei irtmuiL was ssignea,and Josephine was divorced, nominally be- JmniiftHl'mnAmiWI)rif ki . . v,udc ...,. v. .. . j an utfir io me throne.. He acted with as much gener osity as possible under the circum - stances, and more than could have been expected of such a man as be was. He was not equally considerate of two or three men who were suspected of being her loyersr -What became of thpm no one ktiowsi they ainiDiv dlmntwiinui .. xapoieun s seconu -wiie was only a trifle better than his first, but, though her fidelity, W never.suspected by the emperor, there Is excellent reason to believe that while he was on the Rus sian campaign she was engaged In a scandalous Intrigue with Count von Nelpperg, her chamberlain, whom, af ter Napoleaon's death, she married. Either she or Josephine, however, was a pattern of morality when compared with another pet of history, the famous, or, rather, infamous, Beatrice Cenci. Beatrice became a historical pet on the strength of a portrait, laid to be paint ed by Ouldo Renl, a day or two before her execution. Its. authenticity is, at best, extremely doubtful, but It has "pleased the world to believe that It is a- correct portrait of the young Roman girl, and, as it represents her as ex ceedingly beautiful, of course the world at once made up Its mind that a woman who was so good-looking could not have been anything but good, and the fact that she was tried by a regularly constituted tribunal, and that abundant evidence was produced to prove that she was the leading conspirator In the murder of her father, counted for noth ing in the presence of the world's deter mination to believe her a martyr. Bea trice had the misfortune to live In an age when assassination was generally regarded as a venial offense, when murder was a trifle so long as the mur derer could remain undetected and safe from the vengeance of the victim's friends. It was even a jest. During her short lifetime, everybody knew that "succession powders." to rid a young wife of an old husband, or bring an heir quickly tnto his inheritance, could be bought almost openly In Home; that In the crowded quarters by the river men could be hired for a few soldi to do uny murder. Assassination was a nightly occurrence In Rome and every other large i lly In Italy, und the us sasslns were rarely brought to Justice. Nor would Beatrice have suffered deuth had It not been for the fact lhat while the pope was considering the question of clemency, the Princess uf Santa t'roce was murdered by her son, und It was determined that Beatrice und her nssuclates should bi made an example. She was no better than, the age In which she lived. In fact, she seems to have been somewhat worse, and un doubtedly suffered Justly the punish ment due to her ujdeous crime. THE PRISONER OF CHIIXON. Not to devote too much time to the ladles, however, It Is well enough to re member that several men have been made' the pets of the world who did not in the least deserve any consideration at its hands. One of the most notable cases of this kind Is the "Prisoner of Chlllon," immortalized by Myron. By ron was a poet, not a historian, and might be expected to be carried away by his sympathies, and, Indeed, when we find historians so grossly misled no surprise can.be felt at. the same thing happening in the vase of a young man of fine poetic genius and overflowing with sympathy for any case of suffer ing, real or otherwise. In this instance the peculiar castle furnished the theme, the cell beneath supplied the inspira tion, and the prisoner was the creature of the poet's Imagination. Chlllon had many prisoners probably better deserv ing of the world's sympathy than Fran cols de Bonnlvard, to whom Byron re ferred. Instead of being the old, feeble man described In the poem, he was a gay, rollicking young blood, perpetual ly In hot water on account of his am orous propensities nnd fondness for other people's property. He opposed the Duke-Bishop of Savoy, Charles III., not so much from political motives as on general principles, being always ready to oppose anybody just for tne fun of the thing. His Invasions of Sa voy were rather plundering raids than military expeditions, and. according to one historian, he was Anally caught by the wrathful bishop .while returning from one of these thievish jaunts, his followers being so laden with stolen goods that they were taken at a disad vantage and could neither run away nor light. Of course, the bishop locked him up; the wonder Is he did not do worse to him, and in jail he stayed for six years. He was not confined In the dungeon at all. but In an airy, comfort able room above, with neatly barred windows, from which he could look out over the lake. He did not take his cap tivity much to heart, but spent his time In composing Indecent poems, some of which, scribbled on the walls of his room, are still to be seen. MAZEPPA. Byron had another character, quite as worthy of a prison cell at Bonnl vard, but who by the magic of verse has been transformed into a popular hero. Mazeppa was the same kind of person as Bonnivard, and took his famous, but reluctant, ride as the result of a discov ered intrigue with the wife of another Polish nobleman. There was consider able personal risk in the matter, but nobody of his time seems to have re garded him as specially worthy of sym pathy, and when mentioned at all it was usually In terms that Indicated the public conviction that he got about what he deserved. His ride proved his fortune, for it brought him with the Cossacks, among whom he subsequent ly acquired great influence. His ad venture with the horse did not improve his morals In the leapt, for several times after" Peter the Oreat had made him prince of the I'kralne he was In volved In difficulty with outraged hus bands on account of being too much of a Lothario to please even a Cossack, and more than once his life was In dan ger. He betrayed the confidence of every one who trusted him, even that of his royal master, whose fortunes he deserted to take the side of Charles XII of Sweden. At the battle of Pultowa he was taken, and Peter determined to make an example of him und so re served him for a special hanging, to which the whole army was invited, and at which Byron's hero was to be the ob ject of chief Importance. So little, how ever, did he appreclute the interest felt in his behalf, that a day or two before this grand event was to come -off. he bribed the Jailor and ran away, riding as fast as he did on the wild horse, un til he got Into Turkey. There he was safe, and having more regard for his worthless carcass than for poetic Jus tice, he stayed at Mender, nnd under the protection of the sultan, until his death In 170. at the age of 64. The ride at tracted the poetic fancy of Byron, and the character of the man had nothing to do with the matter at all. , LOUIS XVI. AND CHARLES I. A world of sympathy has been wast ed on two kings who had the misfor tune to lose their heads. The royalist elements In both France and England managed, at an early day, to get the public ear and to present these two rul ers as fit objects for public sympathy. As a matter of fact, each met the fate that he Intended to deal out to his adversaries. There Is not the slight est doubt that had Charles I, been vic torious in the civil war he would have chopped off the heads of every one of the military leaders who opposed him and finished the Job by decimat ing or exterminating the parliament. Nobody know this fact better than the popular leaders. They found Charles utterly untrustworthy, and discovered that while he was negotiating with them for an amicable adjustment of the affairs of the realm he was also nego tiating In France for money and men to reopen the war. It was his life or theirs,, and as .a measure of self-defense they were compelled to act as they did. Louts XV L was as faithless as Charles, and otherwise a despicable character. If he had possessed one kingly attrib ute he would never have been brought to prison, and, after he was there, the bitterest complaints he made were founded on the quality and scantiness of the food furnished to the royal fam ily. These stories, told on the streets of Paris, brought him into popular con tempt and did much, to hasten his end. Nor did he. die heroically, for many eye-witnesses to. the execution testify that he struggled with the executioners and screamed for assistance, hoping to the last moment for a popular upris ing In his favor. SUCH CASES NUMEROUS. The historians, poets and artists, however have so many pets that it it an easy matter to adduce almost Innumer able examples.' Elisabeth of-Kngland was. not the gentle queen nor the beau tiful woman she Is. represented, but a termagant, who. In humbler life, would have been treated to a liberal dose of ducking, which In her times, was re garded as an infallible cure for a com mon scold. She curses her maids of honor like a drunken trooper, often pinched and kicked them, while, on the artiBtlc side,-her lack of good looks was conceded even by her contemporaries. "Glorious Queen Anne" was so addict ed to drink that her red nose earned for her the appellation "Brandy Nan" from her loving subjects. Both the Catharines of Russia, had they been working women instead of empresses, would have been taken In charge by the police and hauled before the courts for drunkenness, while several murders were undoubtedly committed by each to say nothing of less heinous crimes. Cleopatra with her asp is a pet of the artists, but the real queen of Egypt, as described by her contemporaries, eye witnesses of the closing scenes of her life was entirely different from the ar tistic Ideal, and it is certain that her bruised face, swollen with drink and distorted with rage, excited only the horror of those who gazed upon It. But human nature must have Its Ideals and Its idols, but it seems unfortunate that Very frequently the subjects chosen are most unworthy. The manner of deuth, or the glamour thrown over n character by the historian, artist or poet, blinds the eyes of the world to the real mun or womun, and an Idol is made of a his toric personage who, In life, was utterly unworthy of the commendation, and too often deserved only the scorn und contempt of the linniun race. TUOI UI1TS Or UREAT IIIINHr.RS. The notlo: I motive Is the public good. Yluil. Let them obey that know! not how to rule. Sliukeieure. Von gray lines, tiiat fret the clouds, arc messeiigei's of day. Hhukespeure. He surely Is tu want of another's pa tience wlm hus none of his own. Uivater. If a mun is endued v.'llli a ni-neroim mind, this Is t lie hM kind of nobility. Pluto. Nature, tlirouijh nil her works, In great degree, borrows a blessing irom variety. Churchill. Patience of whose soft grace I have her sovereign aid, and rest myself content. Shakespeare. There are but three classes of men; the retrograde, the stationary and the pro gressive. Luvater. " Pedantry eruius our heads with learned In tn b r. and takes out our brains to make room for It. ;olton. Thus ti'lef still treads upon the heels of pleasure, marry'd in huste, we muy repent at leisure. Cungreve. As the mind must govern the hands, so In every society the man of Intelligence must direct the man of labor. Johnson. This melancholy flutters, hut menace you, what is It else but penury of soul, a duxy frost, u. numbness of the mind. Dryden. The passions, like heavy bodies down stect-p hills, once In motion, move them selves, and know no ground but the bot tom. Fuller. Mun hath his dally work of body or mind appointed, which dec-lures his dig nity and the regard of heaven on all his ways. Milton. The honest heart that's free frae u' In tended fraud or guile, however fortune kick the ba' has aye some cause to untie. Hums, There Is always and everywhere some rentralnt upon a great mun. He is guard ed with crowds and shackled with formal ities. Cowley. Among the pitfalls In our way, the best of us walk blindly; so, man, be wary', watch and pray, and Judge your brother kindly. Alice Oury. The heathen mythology not only was not true, hut wns not even supported as true: it not only deserved no faith, but it demanded none. hately. They that marry ancient people merely In expectation to bury them, hung them selves In the hope that one will come und cut the halter. Fuller. Those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in rhc country, us the behavior of the country is most mock able ut the court. Shakespcute, Llew Llwyd'S' Literary I Interviewed Llew Llwyd (Orey Lion) once about his literary methods. I found him sitting in his shlrt-slteves I mean i.e was sitting In an arm chair with his shirt-sleeves tucked up. Llew then was going on forty, with a bardic career almost as long. Like many other successful literary men, Llew believed In a maximum of out-of-door recreation with a minimum of close application In his study. Ills great hobby was cutting coal, and he told me that his happiest Inspirations came to him w hile ripping the "top" of his stall. He was equally Indifferent as to his tools of trade and modes of working. He showed me a blotched note-book which he carried with him to his stall. and In which he was In the habit of Jot ting down bits of verse as they struck his fancy. He would often test tin al literative phrase by writing It In chalk on the cm ley-box. When all nlone at home, as he liked to be when In one of his (its, and for which purpose he would send his wife to the village on all sorts of errands, lie would drop on his knees on the stone Door und try his lines In chalk. He thought that method emi nently lifted a subject that inquired a broad bundling, un ode or an epic, for instance. But as sooon as he heard Mary's footsteps outside he would rub out the writing frantically with a piece of cloth readiest at hand, n if In mortal fear of a broud handling himself. As he told me that secret I could not help looking at the llnor, and 1 could see the mutilated remains of an epic around the corners of the Blabs. He prefered the evening, after a win tn bath and n full meal. fir regular literary work. Before beglnlng n se. rious tusk be would exchange Ins culty pipe for a church warden. He told me. also, that he could nut work with his coat tin.. He would usually write on slips of brown paper which Mary sup plied him with from the grocery pur cels. He always, however, kept at hand a stock of foolscap paper with en velopes to match, and when he hud licked a piece' Into shape, so to speak, he would employ :..s brother's son to write It on foolscap. ' uch a task he could only entrust to a relative, for Llew car ried on a play of hide and seek with the public, cluimlng his works only after they bad caught on and brougnt him gain and glory. His unsuccessful pro ductions he treated as the Chinese do an overplus of children, or as the Hin doos used to send their old men to the Conges Hospital. Llew was, in fact, the "Oreat Unknown" of Cwtncned. The first composition which blew submitted to the censors of the elstedd vod wns a few stanzas In praise of Kbenezer Cbnpel. a high-shouldered, severely rectangular and perpendicular structure, with the outline of a grain elevator and the windows of a soap fac tory. The adjudicator said that the stanzas contained much good, strong sense, but no rhyme. His next work was a quatrain or englyn on "The Tea pot," which an adjudicator described as strong In alliteration and rhyme, but without a particle of sense. Llew then told me of his pathetic struggle to match . senBe and rhyme according to the prescribed bardic rules. He great ly favored what he called the sane views of Islwyn, and his best produc tions I found modelled after the poem of Kbenezer Chapel rather than on "The Teapot." In this again he resem bled a number of famous authors, whose numerous productions are only so many variations on their first ef forts. But Llew's attempts at reconciling sense and rhyme were by no means un successful, and the prise quatrains on "The Hammer," "The Mandrel," "The Safety Lamp," "The Pig." "The Colo rado Beetle," and "The Flea" appeared tn a rapid succession. Then he sought for his muse a wider play ground In poems on "Truth," "The Cwmeoch Ex plosion," "The Policeman," "The rn dertaker." "The Sexton," "The Coffin" and '.'Immortality' j .. i VDY HARRISf .RETIRED The True Version of His Withdrawal os a Candidate. . HAD A TALK KITH CLEVELAND They Compared Notes and Found That Having Seventy AUIIion Landlords Wasn't the Thing It Had Seemed to Ilj. From the Chicago Record. What a lot of foolish speculation there is as to the reasons which led up to the announcement by General" Harrison that .he would not again be a candidate for president! And the real cause of the decision is perfectly plain. You recall, perhaps, that a few weeks ago the ex-president was In Washing ton, where he appeared before the Su preme court and earned $100 per respi ration by arguing that California ought to take water In hers. And you recall, too. that later in the day the Indiana bridegroom-elect visited the white house and spent ten minutes in conversation with President Cleveland. There bus been much haxaiding as to what Ihe two stuUsmen hud to say to each other. The -Record has known for several davs, but has been bound to iillenee by the two great men until now. The recent announcement of cashing In und quit ting the gume releases the bond, of con fidence. When Mr. Hurrlson and Mr. Cleve land met there were, of course, the ordi nary civilities attendant Upon the herd ing together of two men euch of whom bud beaten the" other for president of the I ' lilted States, and each of whom bud -lu turn been beuten by the other. Then Mr. Harrison suld: i "Von have doubtless heard. Mr. Pres ident, of my proposed murrluKe. und of course you will surmise that 1 uui house-hunting. I know somewhat of this house, having tented if for four years, and my thoughts nuturally turn to It. Hut I remember quite well that when I wus here before there were a lot ol hurusslng annoyunces that tntlunied and enraged me, nnd It was to see about them that I culled. I don't believe there is anything half as vexations as having 70,000,000 landlords and never being able to llnd nnc of them when you want tu huve a nail driven In the jamb of the laundry door to hang your canvas hunt-Ing-coat upon. 1 remember that In the old days 1 have gone coursing up and down this great nation looking for the landlord so as to file my objection to a loose plank in the kitchen floor, and although there are, as I have sqld, TO, 000,000 of him I have never been able to get at him. The mere fact that one Is allowed to hire the work. done is no Biir cease of sorrow when you want to kick good and hard." CLEVELAND COINCIDED. "Ueneral." said President Cleveland, warmly, "I agree with you. I have been there am there now and will be until the end of my term.- I look out sometimes upon the gay throng of men who live in houses the landlords of which ore tangible quantities and I weep In my longing. There Is Dan, for Instance. If his windows were to rattle like a thing with chills he would be able to rush down town and corner his land lord and use language violent but sooth ing to the spirit. The last time my win dows did that I called for the hauling down of the flag at Hawaii to appease niy wrath." "I remember." the ex-president ob served, "and thought at the time it must be the leaky bath-tub Jn the spare loom. It was the windows, was it?" "Yes, the bath-room induced me In very auger to call a special session of congress, which some people thought ' For The Tribune. The reader will observe the steady expansion of Llew's powers. To a catholicity of range he added great flexibility of treatment. The quatrains and poems mentioned represent two distinct stages of his growth as a bard bard, 1 say, for we Welsh bards ap ply the terhi poet only to some English versifiers. The quatrain periods represents Llew's struggles for the mastery of al literation and rhyme often at the ex pense of sense. But even here we see how faithfully he observed the eternal fitness of things by choosing subjects of a trivial nature, with the exception, perhaps, of the Colorado beetle, which at that time hnd gained international notoriety. But Llew confessed to me that he soon despaired Of being able to infuse much sense Into the twenty four metres. Tuke for Instance, one of his best quutrains, "The Pig," literally translated and shorn of Its complicated alliteration: "A long-eared, big-bellied caterpillar, (Caterpillar was the only cutegory that would rhyme.) With a lung mouth and a short leg, Is the pig; In Its stubborn passions, It will have Its way In spite of sticks." lu a way, there Is a good deul of sense In the above pig-sense, muybc but hurJIy worthy of Llew's genius. It Is with pleasure, therefore, we hnll the "poems" period. Here he hard Is in Ills element. Here he takes his Immor tal fellow burd, Islwyn. the great bard ic liberator, us his model. You notice the (drilling succession of subjects. With the composition of "Truth" Llew became a realist. He threw off the sculus of Dal'vdd ab Emwnt from his eyes. He dived Into the hcurt of things. He dared tn Investigate the uncanny. Like all realists, he delighted in dis cussing the sluidy side of human ex perience. He followed "The Police man" on his beat. He lent a hand to "The Sexton" to dig some graves. Hnd he known of Stevenson's "Suicide Club" he would have applied fur membership. His muse grew fut on worms. The hor rifying minuteness of "The Cnflin," like those lines of Tennyson to the "Old Yew": "Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about their bones," places that poem unique among word paintings. But through It all Llew kept a level head, and In his masterpiece on "Immortality" there Is no suggestion of the odor of the vault. With a laugh another proof .of his level-headedness Llew told ine a re markable fact. Alter all there are but few bards who venture far Into a favor ite field without consulting the tastes of the crowd, who follow like dumb driven cattle far behind. Sound prin ciples should produce a good income, and Llew solved the problem In his own way Alliterative quatrains demand an Im mense amount of labor. It is an art by itself the art of word-juggling and many are masters of the art. But Llew found It a poor paying thing. Llew. by the way, did not depend on literature for a living another proof of his level-headedness. But he thouht reasonably enough that the muse ought at the least to keep him in tobac co. -And of all species of poetry elegies pay best. While composing the "Un dertaker." "Sexton." "Coffin" and "Im mortality" a vista of vast possibilities opened before Llew. These poems sup plied him with a ready stock of fune real sentiments, and Llew saw no rea son why they could not be applied to a variety of cases, like a hearse or a bor rowed suit of mourning. His first attempt In this new line an elegy on a deceased colliery manager brought him ten shillings. But the small elsteddvods were few and far be tween, and competitors for bat-die fame were as thick as leaves In that Italian valley, though the valley of Cwmcoed Is good enough for me. Llew took another tack. When a neighbor was for financial legislation, but which was reully assembled because 1 had to have something real, palpable and In plain view to well, to swear at. When 1 cunie back from my hunting trip re cently I found the kitchen sink nil stove Up. A . good, conscientious landlord would have been a blessing just then, but all I could do was to declare war on Oreat Britain. It is hard. Now,-when the smoke comes rushing back down my chimney us though It had seen something up at the top which scared It, what can I do? Can I go out in Lafayette aveuuo and call a mass meeting of the passers-by and roast them in sharp,- bitter, biting terms for giving me a house to live In the chim neys of which freeae ovei to a depth of seven Inches? It would be ridiculous. You know how that is. general." 'Know It? Ah, alas and woful words! Once when the pump froxc and I ham mered at it until I had skan seven Inches of skin off my knuckles, and I scalded It and put explosives m it and dredged at it for two hours, and then, oh. then, how I yearned for somebody whom I could call 'landlord' and whom I could abuse and vilify some! Ily the way, Mr. President, does that pump still get reluctant on cold days?" Oeneral," said the president, "It docs my heart good to hear you talk ro about that pump. You are the only man living who can understand what I have suffered from that profane piece of mechanism in the last four years. When 1 first entered the white house I wus a younger man. stronger, moiv hopeful. 1 did not mind the pump so much then. And when you moved In and 1 moved out I did it with sorrow. Now I shall leave here with u burst of hilarity hovering all about me. 1 shall go strnlKhtwuy and hire u house where there Is u pump just like this and where there Is u mun who owns thu house, und 1 shull put in the rest of my Ul'e In win ter assisting t hut mun With the exple tive uiljectlves which 1 huve gulher-d here. The pump, general, is the same old pump.'.' 'i gather, then," said the generul, i-e-llectlvely, "thut you have had enough und are going to quit the premises next year." "1 certainly am. Do you blame me? What would you do?" "Mr. President." the general gravely observed, "I would do the same. I had thought of making application for this place, but your words have brought me an awakening. I had hoped there might have come a change since 1 wus last here. But 1 see It Is the sume thing. It may be a great thing to be president of the I'nlted States, but when to that clrcuinstance Is added the condition that one must have 70.000.000 landlords, none of whom are within kicking dis tance When things go wrong. 1 pass out. I shall keep on renting from a m:ui smaller In stature than myself and whom I can browbeat and fume at when the house needs three new shln-gk-s or another catch on the pantry window." And shortly after Mr. Dowdy received that letter of surrender of presidential hopes. science GOSSIP. The wars or the last seventy years have cost Itusslu 1,7u5,000,0O0 and the Uvea of OiH.OflO men. It Is estimated that a November fog In London oot, in gas and electric light, accidents, delays und damage, about $100, OiiO. The letters In the various alphabets of the world vary from twelve to 20:! In num ber. The Sandwich Islanders' alphabet has twelve, the Tartarian, flrj, in Wales It is believed that If any one kills a wren he wil fall down and break a hone before the end of the year. The sun, if hollow, would hold JOO.onO earth globes, and an eye capable of hourly viewing 10,000 sqimre miles would require O.'i.mxi years to see all Its surface. Strange bed-warmers are used hy Chili an women. In cold weather, when In bed, they keep their feet warm by placing thtm on a dog. Methods, died he would attend the wake, which In Wales Is kept as a prayer meeting, and at the close of the meeting he would place tn the hand of the leading living representative of the deceased something rolled up Into a paper bullet, and then he would leave the house ab ruptly as if the thing was about to ex plode In fifteen seconds. The leading representative would open the paper and read It, then he would hand It to the second, saying, "How good of Llew?" The second would hand It to the third 'With, "It Is a perfect picture of poor Job." So the paper would be sent the round of the relatives to the remotest cousin, when one with a better mastery over his feelings than the rest a second cousin's husband, maybe, would suggest to have It printed and framed. The day after the funerul the leading representative would be seen going from store to store to puy the bills, and he would most likely meet Llew, who by this time would be re garded almost as a member of the fam ily. Together they would enter the lit tle parlor of the Black Lion, conform ably to a cluuse In the burd's license, and Llew would return home that even ing seven and sixpence the richer. To say that the bard, in offering so delicately the mournful tribute of his muse, wus actuuted by u mercenary motive would be a gross libel and a monstrous perversion of the truth. Llew never sang so worthy of himself as when free from the restrictions of an elsteddvixl competition, nnd never did a literary aspirant write more for the waste-busket than did Llew pour his soul Into songs which the cold, critical world never bud a chance to mutilate. And when ymi come down to the uni versal question of shillings and pence never a pound you ought to bear In mind that Llew once did exhaust his energies a whole week, and was one day too late for work, tn composing un elegy on the late Mr. Fitzgerald, civil engineer, for n translation of which lie paid live shillings to a "utlckit minis ter:" and though dressed In his Sunday best he handed the neighborly tribute In person to Mrs. Fitzgerald. It drew forth a Hood of tears, but not a penny piece of cash. The Indelicacy of such tributes Is limited to some frequent scenes In the elsteddvod when a dozen bards, having shed their crocodile tears over Ihe remains of a deceased of whom they knew next to nothing, await with Jealous eagerness the announcement of the uward. and there and then start an unseemly wrungle "Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won." Like Matthew Arnold and most of the great writers whose words, phrases und ! sentences have become current coins of the literary realm, Llew believed In re peating a good thing in various guises. Without the least consciousness of the Impropriety of the thing he showed me many elegies which had couplets, and even whole stanzas In common. They were his gems and sparkled wherever they were set. They were free, not only of the note of provincialism, to borrow one of Arnold's repetitions, but even of the note of localism, and were, therefore, entitled to be ranked as classic. You could apply them to any decent human being the world over like homo sum. In an elegy on a sweet yong girl who had died of the decline there was a whole stanza of eight lines taken from the prize elegy on the gruff but kind colliery manager. As I left Llew Llwyd's bright Ingle slde that evening I felt that I had com muned with a man who had a proper sense of his high vocation a liberator of the muse from arbitrary fetters and a consoler of bereaved homes, as every true bard should be; and though now and then he would betray a slight dis appointment at having not won a chair at an elsteddvod, I assured him with truth that If the good people of Cwm coed were canvassed they would elect him forthwith as their poet laureate. Rhys Wynne, TRE CITY OF MARSEILLES Attractions of One of the Notable Torts of France. 1 IT HAS MAGNIFICENT CAPES Settled by Creek Colonists, Whose Hand!' work Is 1 Still Visible-Palace de Longchamps,' Church of Notre Daino and Chateau d' If. Speciul Correspondence to The Tribune. Marseilles, Jan; 25. Marseilles Is one of the European cities which the trav eler, always In search of things antique or artistic, is likely to pass over rather Hurriedly, or perhaps not stop at it at all. Italy, with Its pictures and pal aces, being so near, the attractions of Marseilles are rather lost sleht of. and the average traveler who stops there Is likely to remember Mursellles only as possessing more cafes In proportion to Its size than any other city In Europe. This Impression Is certainly the first one that the town gives. The broad Canneblere, the principal street of the town, seems to be lined with nothing but magnificent cafes, fully as line us those of Purls, and the same thing is true of Its continuation, the Hue No vllles, and the Allees de Mellhum. If the traveler Is un American the wonderful likeness of the city and Its princlpul streets to those of his own country will also strike hi in forcibly. It Is the prin cipal scapoit und the bur lest town of Krunce, und truding as It does with nearly all the world, there Is u stir and bustle about the life of the ntreets quite American. ONE OF THE CHIEF POUTS. -It Is, and has been fur two thousand years and inure, one of the chief ports through which the products of the east have found their way Into Europe. This trude gives to the port a very or iental look, and on the streets, es pecially those down near the docks, the crowds are a queer mixture of Asian, African und European. The signs on the shop windows In thut section ure lu many strange tongues, and one coming from the north seems to get the first whiff of the east. The city, although very modern look ing in Its principal buildings, is In re ality very old. Nearly twenty-live hundred years have passed sine the first colony of (Ireeks from Phocaea made their way to these then unknown shores and founded the colony which they called Massalia. This first land ing of the Greeks Is the subject of one of Puvls de Chavanne' s magnificent frescoes in the staircase of the Palais de Lungchamp. SETTLED BY OREEKS. The colonists throve, a way Oreek colonies seemed to have In those old timeB, and were soon able to defeat the Carthagenlnns fn a naval battle and U form a friendly alliance with Rome. I'ntil the time of Julius Caesar the city maintained Its Independence, but was conquered by him and annexed to the Roman empire, Its citizens, how ever, maintaining many of their an cient privileges. The city had all these years remained thoroughly Oreek, and under the em pire rivalled Athens as an educational center for the Homnn youths. After the fall of Rome Marseilles shared the fate of the rest of southern Europe and was possessed tn turn by the Visigoths, the Franks and the Au leslans. In the tenth century that scourge of Europe, the Saracens, de stroyed the city, but It recovered from the blow and during the middle ages seems to have regained Bomewhat of Its old importance as a trading center. IN OLD MARSEILLES. Most of the city Is new, but to the north of the old port rise the-precipl-tous, narrow, winding streets of the old town, fully as picturesque and fully as dirty as the old streets of most Eu ropean cities. Their only redeeming feature, from a sanitary point of view. Is the stream of water which courses down the middle of each street and al leyway. Since Marseilles suffered so fearfully from the cholera the authori ties have taken some precautions against Its return, and this Is one of them. The very interesting old port, crowd ed with shipping from all quarters of the globe. Is defended by forts at Its en trance, one of which Is the old Chateau Babondor, built by the Knights of Multa. The cathedral. Instead of being up In the modern center of the town, Is down near the npw harbor, it Is a line build ing in the Byzantine style. THE CITY'S CHIEF PRIDE. But the chief pride of modern Mar seilles is the Palais de Longchamps, standing at the head of the boulevard of that name, and containing the pic ture gallery and the museum of natural history. The two wlu&s ure connected by u tine colonnade and triumphal arch, below which Is a magnificent fountain, one of the finest in Europe. Buck Of the palace Is situated the small but good zoological garden, which Is a branch of the one at Paris. To the Bouth of the town stretches the long Prado, u drive bordered with fine villas extending to the sea. From the point where It reaches the sea the beautiful Comiche road, a triumph nf engineering, tuns along the rocky cnust buck to the harbor. The views from this roiid ure unexcelled, espe cially at sunset. THE CHATEAU d'IF. But the two chief sights of Marseilles aside from Its harbor are the church of Notre Hume de lu Uurde and the Cha teau d'lf. The church stands on a steep hill south of the town and Is a very prominent object in the view. It Is reached by an Inclined ruilwuy, or rather elevator, for It runs up nearly perpendicular, of an angle, I think, of obout liO degrees. The view from the porch of the church Is claimed by the Marseillaise to be the best in the world. and while that estimate of It Is perhaps a trifle enthusiastic, for the world In n lnrge place, still there Is no de.ulit that It Is very' beautiful, and onge seen is not soon forgotten. At one, feet is the busy city of Marseille with its harbor filled wllh ships, urd outside In the Mediterranean several rocky Is lands, on one of which stands the Chu teau d'lf. Behind are the foot hills of ti.e Alps, and to right and left stretches the southern shore of France. It is a rather curious thing that In so old a city as Marseilles the plnce which Interests the average tourist most of all takes that interest from a character In modern fiction. About two miles from the harbor, on a rocky Island, is situat ed the Chateau d'lf. where the hero of Dumas' novel, the Count of Monte Chrlsto, was Imprisoned. A boat runs to the Island several times a day In good weather (the landing Is Impossible In bad) and the visitor Is shown over the mediaeval castle which rises In the center of the fort. A SIGHT FOR THE MORBID. In the center of tne structure Is a very small weii-like court, from which the cells open. These cells run deep Into the masonry of the walls, and are sufficiently dreary, gloomy looking places to satisfy the most morbid per son. You are shown and allowed to crawl through If you wish the hole in the wall by which Edmond Dantes there really was a prisoner of that name entered the adjoining cell. There were other prisoners known to fame who were kept In these gloomy rooms, one of them being a dauphin of France and another that mysterious being, the man in the Iron mask. From the top of the castle another magnificent view is obtained of the cltv of Marseilles, and when one gets back to the harbor and wanders In and out among the-ships and peoples of nearly all the nations of the globe he realizes that while Marseilles may not be rich tn pictures or ruins. It la still one of the most interesting of cities to visit. , .- Wlnford J. Northup. No matter how violent or excruciating the pain, the Rheumatic, Bedridden, la-' firm. Crippled, Nervous, Neuralgic, ow prostrated with diseases may suffer, RADWAY'S READY RELIEF Will Afford Instant Ease. '. For headache (whether sick or nerveus). toothache, neuralgia, rheumatism, lunw bago, palus ana weakness la the back, spine or kidneys, pains around ike IWer pleurisy, swelling of the Joists ud pajnal of ail kinds, the applleatiOR if Midway's! Ready Belief will ajffonl InuneMaie eueT and Its continued use for a few days effeot a permanent cure. - Instantly stops the most excruelstlna pains, allays Inflammation and cores ooiH sestlops. whether of the Lungs, etoroaoij Bowels or other glamis or tbuoeus mem3 bran.es. ltadwny's Ready Belief CURES AND PREVENTS - I .J l m woius, bsuim, oars I nrost, inflUtrM zs, Bronchitis, Pneumonia, RhjU matlsrn, Neuralgia, Headache, Toothache, Asthma, Dif. ficult Breathing. CURES THE WORST PAINS la front one to twenty minute. Not one bout, after reading this advertisement nce4 any? one BCKFEU WITH PAIN. INTERNALLY A half to a.teaspeonful tn half a tumbler of water wfil la a few minutes cure Cramps, Spasms, Beutl Stomach, Nausea. Vomiting. Heartburn, Sick Headache, Diarrhoea, Colio, OTatuy lency and all Internal pains. RADWAY'S READY RELIEF, Pries. SOo. per Bottle, Selsl by alt Druggists. -A itUmr Wwd o OoOmr ispsi" ifMinfitantasaDJ-tal KqTjola ol wmf Ss tesM old la aU nU iMa tm Ml.ta. We auka USa kaat canetPM, Uimhire wo fmaf OHM ue ju, smi oast use. roae is sob ossones) rTiT2 Sew RiTft? raou IT, I jMufn. J Qnr-I K MAM Sfmsi eaWa-ji.fom st at M lr SB SsloTaL. Faultlaam Chemical nomnanv. iiWjiE more. Mil. fiuFMtdC,ar' fat ' L.OST MANHOOD nciair attumlinr aflment both of young and middlt kf'J nnn una women, Th awf-itrrTuctJof VolITHFlTt KramltBOf treatment. VUtrins. nrmlurlrter weal?. Bcm, Nerroiii lability, Mffhtly ErolKslotCnommptiooa, In faulty, KzhaurTtitiK (JrainHfuul om of power of the Us crattroUqiuniunflttlnir onftforntiHly, bUHinmaid mil ri.itTeWquM-klyruivtl hy lr. Kml-lrn" ") ftcr Traill. They Dot only euro by sterling atthmat of Ut eiue. but are a BTrst M.KVK XO.Mu and KLOO l !,..(, urmtrine raw-it The pink slow f ! t-hcrka n id nwtorin, tha FIRfC F VOI l fl to itb Mtiwit. Hy mail, 1 1 .no per box or O for & with writ ph uiwinl ta fiir or rrrund the tantivy, Book (iiWhMw-"1-l''i .nHf0,Aiaw Tartw or sale by JOHN H. PTTPTLPfl. Dm Hat, Wyrtmlnir v. and Spruce strNL i rar REV1VO RESTORES VITALITY. Made a Well Mai TUB aIAT aoth bay. ITIEJTOII HEM I'l 1 TT proxlaeos the above rendu Iru'SO days. It acts powerf ully and quirkljr. Cure when all otben tali. TooasBsoawlUicgala their loot maokood.aMolS inea will reeorer MiMr yonthtai visor by solas WETlVO. It oalctir wd aoralr reitorao Henouo ess. Leo YiUlltr. Impo:oa. Nightly KmleetoaOj LostPowoe.Failiiis Mrmory, Wu4liu OlMoM.aaS oil esTkaCS of self -oban or eioena and indleeratlen, hlofeoatU one for study, bnnlnxM or marriage. II Hot only enrae by stirtinf at the onot of disease, but IsssToa Bertotaaio ud Mood bollder, brlLf. Ins book the pink (tow to pale ohooks and re norlns the Are of yontb. 1 ward eft Inunlty nd Osaramrtiaa. Inill oa naTiof RETIVO. so ntber. It can be oarried U vest oket. By snail 1 1 MO Per peckwe, or all tor SIS.eo, wit poet lo written raomntoe So emro at yofnnS themouf. areolar free. AeUnss ftOYM. MEOICINt CO.. 53 Rl.ef St. CHMMf. ILL. W tthaws Bresu Vswalst s ooUmoi I f orp "1: wo will rofwsal too I X OTmoDdeouihoroeaT. Ofssa JIN? Jk m.flT AWd ssssw Mr oar KM
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers