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"" A - ^ ' . 7 " /W
THE NATIONAL ERA.
^ _
O. BAILEY. EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR; JOHN G. W H IT TIE R, 0 0 R R E S P O N DI N G EDITOR.
~~ VOL. IV.?NO. 33. ' WASHINGTON, THURSDAY, AUGUST 15, 1850. WHOLE NO. 189."
fallaaal Krm la PilliiliH WMkl|,a? Mf?lUi
Ureal, apposite Odd Fallows' Hall.
TRRm
Two d >U?r# per annum, payable m advance.
Advertisements not exceeding tea line# inserted
three times for one dollar ; every subsequent inssrtion.
twenty-five cents.
All eommunioiUions to the Era, whether on
business of the paper or for publioetioa, should
be addressed to O. Bailkt, Wajkinfton, D. C.
BUKLL k BLANCHARD, PRINTERS,
Sixth treat, a fav doori south uf Poauaylvaaia avrnua.
THE NATIONAL ERA.
. . trr, f. ??T ......
WASHINGTON, AUGU8T 12, 1850.
* i 1?
Forth* National Era
SKETCHES OF OUR VILLAGE.
No. 4.
THE MILLER. -CHARTER I.
BV MAETHA EtJSSSLL.
" Foil merrily rtag-i the millstone ruuud,
Full merrily rlege the wheel,
Fall merrily g ui?h*? out the grief ?
Come, teata my fragrant meal'
" The miller be'a a worldly ntan,
And maun hae double fee;
Ho draw the alnifle in the chart'* dam,
And let the *tream gae free."
Song of the Elfin Miller.
Far up amid the deep gorges, the taogled thickets,
and cedar groves of old Totoket, spring forth
numberless mountain brooks, that come leaping
and tumbling down the rugged mountain sides,
ctiling to one another in merry musical voices,
like children at hide and seek, until wearied
with their sport, and catching, as it were, the
deep solemn voice of the ocean, they mingle their
waters in one channel, and with hushed voices go
winding quietly through our village, to seek the
boaom of their mighty mother.
After this " meeting of the waters," the stream
winds along For about two miles, through a
broken valley, then making a sudden turn, finds
itself imprisoned between two hills, across the
southern opening of whioh is a massive dam,
built of great black logp, against which the indignant
water dashes and foams, and then subsiding,
drips, drips, with an indescribable, mournful
murmur, as if bewailing its fiate, while the distant
voice of old ocean calls in vain for her child.
The eastern bank rises in a high bluff, then
stretches away in wide pastures, but on thf west
the ground slopes gradually back,and,sheer from
the water's edge, is studded with magLificent
oaks, walnuts, and maples, interspersed witi>. here
and there a dark and stately cedar. The pond
stretches back a half mile or so, and along ' ?
margin float the queenly water lilies, like fairy
boats, intermingled with tall flags and the tassels
of the drooping alders. Close by the dam, and
half overhanging the water, as if it ever had a
fancy to topple in, stands the weather-beaten mill,
with its great skeleton-looking wheel, whioh, like
some giant monster, grinds and pounds the limpid
water, until it exhales away in glittering spray,
or, escaping from its clutohes, sighs fkintly amid
tbewillcw roots and rnahes that fringe its bed
below the bridge. The floor within ie strewed
with sacks and powdered over with meal, over
whioh the tracks of the miller and his visiters
describe all manner of figures; the oobwsbs overhead
are coated over until they look like frosted
flowers, and the
" Vtry ?b?mt th? door,
Is misty wltb the Sotting met! "
Here dwelt Jededl.th Sewall, the miller, for the
farm house a few rods west was to him nothing
more than a lodging house. Miller Jed, as he
was generally caiiea, *m a nuie wunerea man,
with joints distorted by hard labor, and muscles
of iron. Flesh he had none to speak of, and the
tough brown skin stretched over the joints, and
clung to the bones, as if it had sometime undergone
a baking process In his mealy suit, with
his glittering black eyes peering out from beneath
the brim of his white hat and powdered hair, he
looked very mnch like one of the great spiders
coiled up in their white webs on the rafters overhead
, and the resemblance was true in more points
than one, for, like the spider, whatever came
within his clutches never found its way out again.
For more than forty years he had lived in the
mill, sniffing the mealy air, shouldering heavy
sacks, and compelling the free glad waters to toil
f >r him, while, with his keen eyes bent over the
trough, with his long bent fingers he soooped out
handful after handful of soft white meal for tollPeople
said that his fingers were ever ready bent
for grasping, but that no one had ever known
them to relax under the influence of charity and
humin love.
Money, money was his dream by day and
night?his god, and to it he had sacrificed his
manhood?his humanity. True, after maturely
counting the cost, hs married, late in life, his
housekeeper, to Bave her wages, wisely considering
that she would eat no more as his wife than
as bis housekeeper; and, besides, in this way, he
should gain possession of not only what he had
paid her, but also the small sum which she already
possessed when she came there. There
was one result of this marriage, whioh, although
it could hardly fail, in the end, of exerting a humanising
influence over him, seemed for many
years to render hiin only more mlaerlyaad grasping.
This was the birth of a son, whoae existence
cost his mother her life. It would be wrong to
say that the miller did not feel some unasual
thrills about his heart as he gazed upon the helpless
infant, or a strange sensation of terror and
I as he looked upon the rigid feat ares of her
whom he had called wife. But sea roe were the
clods of the graveyard pressed over her, when hie
thoughts returned to their wonted channel, and
avarice began to repine that ahe did not live to
nurse the child. It would have been such a
saving.
But as Death is deaf alike to the voloe of Avarice
and Love, the old woman who had officiated
as nurse to the mother, wae retained to take
charge of the child, which throve finely under
her care, and manifested a fiondnaaa tnr KaratUk
gladdened the lone old creature's heart. Isaac,
for so tbej called the boy, wee about seven years
old before Miller Jed thought of sending him to
chool. Not that the boy was altogether ignorant,
for Widow Barker had taught him the
"tames and habits of the various birds and squirrels
that made their houses in the woods behind
the house; he knew all the berbe that grew about
'here, and their neee, and eometblng too of ichthy?logy
he knew, though If old " Grannie Barker,n
u he called her, had heard that term applied te
her lessons, she would have lifted her grsat-eyed
Mc-t&cles, and rubbed her forehead in tore amatemeot
Nevertheless, she had often taken him up
. 'he borders of the pood with her, in search of
greeny or some rare herbs, holding him [closely
t'J 'be hand, (for though Miller Jed seldom bol'r*d
him, yet ever siaoe his wife died he had
uaoifeeted a great dread of death, and had
strictly forbidden Isaao to go near the pond
alone,) and pointed out to him the minnows
glancing and poising themselves in ths elsnr
w*t*rs, the roey-gilled roach, and the alender,
graceful perch. Then, during the long wlnttr
evenings, the old woman brought into requisition
k*r library, oonsisting of hnt Bible sad Hymn
Hook, and a strangely retentive memory of the
"><*< remarkable oases in Pox's Book of Martyrs,
?hieh had mat with some time in her yonngur
Jays With thsss ths thiid boonms early familiar, I
and to their influence perhaps ma; be traced his
fate as a man. He was a bright, gentle, affectionate
boy, a little more thoughtfhl than is usual for
children of his age, owing to the solitary life he
led with his old nurse, for they saw no oompany,
save when some farmer chanced to call to see
some very ohoice specimen of grain, or some poor
debtor, whose mismanagement or misfortunes had
given the old miller a claim upon his property.
How long his father would have kept him at
home, with no teacher save his old nurse, if the
boy himself had not expressed a wish to go to
school, we cannot say. But all through the pleasant
spring days the child had seen a tall, spare
Kiinttu, inUmg m iimm gin luudi uiM own size,
oome alone the windine oart-nath which led
through the woods, until they reached a pair if
bars by the road side. Hssw vf!*r lr~ the
little girl over, and placing a gaily-oolored basket
in her hand, the woman left her and retraced her
path through the woods, after turning to mark
the progress of the child as she moved down the
green lane. And at about the same hour in the
afternoon when the shadows heran to Imetkss.
the little g?rt caine tripping up the lane,swinging
her basket in her hand, and was met, either by
the pale-faced woman, or a white-haired old manIsaac
was very carious about these people, and
Widow Barker told him that the child was Mercy
Ward, on her way to school; and that she lived
with her mother and grandfather at the distance
of more than a mile on the other side of the wooda
" And an old rickety looking place enough it is
now,'' she added, more to herself than the child,
" though I mind me of the time when the Wards
held their beads as high as anybody; though for
that matter I can't aay but they do now; for old
Captain Adam Ward has pride enough himself
for ten generations."
Widow Barker was no great friend of schools;
she fe-V. *tng IKili
hanging, to shut children up all day to pore over
books,e?f 2* ?" t>5? from
her, he heartily pitied the little girl, and thought
she had muoh better stay and play with him. He
longed to tsll her so, but he was a shy boy, and
contented himself with watching her morning and
evening, as she skipped along by the side of her
mother, or with a more demure manner tried to
to make her uneven steps oorrespond to the regular
pace of her grandfather. It sometimes happened
that she arrived at the bars some moments
before her friends came to meet her, and on one
of these occasions, Isaac, who had been gathering
raspberries along the fence, ventured to approach
her, and holding up the purple fruit, strung after
i primitive fashion, taught him by "Grannie Backer,"
on a long spire of herds-grass, offered to
share it with her, The offer was readily accepted,
and when Jane Ward cams to meet her ohild, she
found her seated on s large flat stone by the tide of
Miller Jed's boy, her lips and fingers stained t? a
deep crimson by the rich fruit, gravely striving
to overoome his prejudice against schools. Isaac
stood on the spot, watching them until the trees
hid them from his sight; then he walked thoughtfully
into the hous e, and, to the oonsternatiou of
Mrs. Barker, declared he was going to sohool
Stories of cruel teachers, of great, reckless boys,
of perils by the wayeide, made no impression upon
him, and the old woman, declaring it to be h*
honest belief that the child wu " possessed," appealed
to his father. The miller seemed struck
with the idea, and said the ohild most know something
about reading, writing, and arithmetic, to get
along in the world, ana mm weU bogUi Ilt^r
Again the old woman brought up her fears, and,
when ahe went on to speak of the possibility of the
child's being gored to death by some riotous animal
in the street, he involuntarily glanced towards
the corner of the room where the dead body of
his wife had lain, and said, hastily, that she could
ask old Ward's grand-daughter to call for him
every day. What protection there could be in the
presence of little Mercy Ward, Miller Je4 would
have fouud it difficult to tell; possibly, even his
hard, selfish nature felt the power of innocence.
iHApreK ii.
" The lovely cottage, with it* own <iear brook,
Its own smell pasture, almost its own skj I"
" Ward's Hollow" is a green, pear-shaped valley,
shut in between ranges of low, wooded hills.
A small, clear brook, that has its souroe in some
hidden spring beneath the rocks on the northern
side, winds leisurely through it, as if loth to leave
its sheltered precincts, until, catching a view of
the gleaming mill stream through an opening at
the southern extremity of the valley, it dashes
forward with a new impetus, like a delighted
school-boy, to overtake its companion.
At the northern end, the hills assume a bolder
front, and are seamed with gray ledges of gneiss,
amid the crevices of which grow many wild flowers,
and queer, grotesque-shaped trees, butternuts principally,
at all angles with the horizon. The ground
at the foot of these blutfs is the highest portion of
the valley, and here, directly facing the southern
opening, rood the old Ward farm-house.
Here, at the first settlement of our village,
Adam, ninth son of Corporal Adam Ward of Kly,
one of Cromwell's old troopers, raised his rude
hut of logs, and manifested the same energy and
perseverance in subduing the wild forest, as had
animated his father, when he fell at the head of
his band, at the celebrated siege of Basing House. <
And well did mother Karth reward his toil. The
valley, or Hollow, ss he named it, lay like a rich
garden smiling up to Heaven, and in the oourse i
of years he added to it many broad acres beyond i
(hat circle of green hills. They were a kind- !
hearted, upright, rigidly honest race, somewhat
opinionated perhaps, but respected by all men;
and thus three generations went down to the grave
1 ? A J . V. A f.tW.. liisl?
leaving AUItlD, IU? grauuiBwum ui nine mviu;,
the sole heritor of the name end estate. He was
very young when his father died, but so truly did
his mother train him in the ways of those who
had gone before, that when the Revolutionary
war broke out, it seemed as if the very spiritof old
Adam of Ely still breathed in the breast of his
descendant. He joined the troops, where his cool
bravery, his lustinetive military skill and intelligence,
coupled with his nnswerving integrity, soon
won him a commission. When the unrighteous
stride ceased, he returned to his neglected estate,
poorer by hundreds in purse, but rich in the love
and esteem of his fWlow-ofticers, and the admiration
and reverence of his townsmen. Most of
what wss called the "Oatside Land''which lay
without the hills, was sold to pay off debts contracted
daring the war, but the Hollow remained,
and he diligently set bimself to repairing the inroads
made upon it by so many years of neglect.
This done, he became more and more conscious of
the loneliness of the old farm-house, for his mother
had lived barely long enough to welcome him
home. He was still in the prims of life, and with
hia high character and military fame, which was
something more then a prestige in those days, be
might have chosen a bride from any of the wealthy
funlliM nt lila aiHinalnUnn* with * doWSr Suf
flcifnt to have repaired his shattered fortunes; but
he paaaed by them all, and, seeking out Mercy
Lindsay, his early playmate in the humble farmhouse,
where since the death of her friends she
had won her daily bread by the labor of her own
hands, he took her to his boeotn as his wife, companion,
and friend. They had but one ehild, and
for several years this green earth oontained no
happier family than the one at Ward's Hollow.
James was an active, spirited boy,and as he grew
older, the green valley heoame too narrow for him.
He longed to go out and mingle with the great
current of life, and all that his father told him of
his owa experienoe there only inoreased his longing.
It was a sad thing to his parents when
they became convinced that a quiet, agricultural
lift would nevsr content him, but they were too
wiae to force upon him an occupation which he so
thoroughly disliked ; therefore they procured him
a situation as olerk in a mercantile house in the
neighboring city, in which, after two or thrse
year*' service in that capacity, he beoame a partner
For tome years all seemed to go wall. He married
a pieaaant, ex ?client girl, and two ahUdran
were welcomed as a veriuble gift from Ood by
them, and moat especially by the solitary old
ooupls at the Hollow. These children spent much
of their time there, end their pmeiige seemed to
lead the grand-parents hack on the track of their
youth. It *u pleasant to aee little Adam imitating
the ereot, military hearing of hie grandfather,
or going through with the evolutions of the drill,
while the old soldier gave oat the word of command.
Then his epaulette, cocked hat, and aword,
preserved with such fond care, were s never-ending
subject of interest to them. How many times
the little boy looked at that tarnished cockade
and faded plume, and wondered when he should
be big enough to wear a hat like that
Though Adam Ward had not passed through
those years of military service without knowing
pinching hunger and sore fatigue, yet he knew
little of those bittar sorrows which touch the soul.
It seemed as if Providence, in its wisdom, had reserved
this experience for his age A malignant
A... ^ " I --. - Arrough the
oity, numbered James and his little boy among its
vtWkute , mar* cm owavav*. ..ma vsv watav iV
?u not until longaner be naa seen toem laid down
by the side,of th* rr rf 'hi did Cromwellian in
the Tillage graveyard, that be oould realize Ite
truth, His was not a grief to find veut in words ;
like his lore, it erne deep, silent, and strong, and
there came many, many weary hours in which he
was ready to exclaim, with Syrian Job, " He hath
tripped me of my glory and taken the orown
from my head; my hope hath he removed like a
tree" Theauddenanneunoetaent.tr th? laakrupt.
cy of the firm of which his son had been a partner
was soaroely able to rouse him from this mood;
but wbea it was found that there was strong reason
for suspecting the honesty of the other partner,
indignation and contempt came to his aid.
But this was not the worst. Not only, the oash
capital which he had advanoed for his son was
swallowed up. but examination proved that they
had used his name for an amount which his whole
estate would barely cover. Ho know that this
was uujust, and appealed to the law, but it wu
proved that on one or two occasions he had, in
the negotiation of some small sum, given them
liberty to use his name, and the case went against
him None save those whose lives are passed in
some quiet nook in the green oountry, on acres
that have descended to them through many generations,
can form a true conception of the old
man's grief when callod upon to part with his
fe-m Thosv LS.i? vi. ? ... .JiO.y'Sft^faphy.
Bash tree, shrub, rock, brook, fenee, and gate,
were so m^ny chapters,of ithynd ^pUb.* understood
their langa&ge. Oh, it was a bitter trial to
that white-haired old man; not the loss so, that
theso beloved fields were to pass into tbo possession
of one who had never been known to manifest
anything like sorrow or sympathy for others,
one for whose character he ftelt a strong dielike,
not to say contempt. But what oared Miller Jed
for old Adam Ward's misfortunes or opinions,
when he saw before him the prospect of grasping
at one clutch the green meadows and fine pastures
of the Hollow ? He had had his lynx-eye upon
it for years; he had oounted over and over how
muoh more it might be made to yield, than it did
under the old-fashisned system of agriculture
pursued by its ancient owners; he oounted much
on James's inexperience, and chuckled inwardly
when he went into a store; then he began to mine
in the dark like one of the rats of his own mill;
he watched all the movements of the firm, and
when he found them pressed for funds, had his
agents ready to lend on old Adam Ward's security
: and should he forego his long-cherished plan,
for the sake of proving himself a kind neighbor 1
Not he; he would " have his bond."
There was one alternative for the old soldier ;
he might mortgage his acres for a sum sufficient
to pay off the debt, aad many of his old friends
advised him to this course. But his independent
spirit could not brook this; he had been a free
man all his life, and would not ooneent, in his old
age, to beoome a servant; therefore he let it all go,
all but the old house and a bit of meadow nn
whioh it stood. Still the fields retained their old
name, for, like the excellent qualities of the ancient
owners, it was too strongly associated with
the nettlement and history of the village, to be
easily relinquished. At the time of the oommenoement
of this storr, the old Captain's wife
had been laid by the side of her son, and J ames's
widow and little daughter, to whom poverty
had left uo other shelter since the death of the
husband alsuTatuer. continued to ?iiv *t?old
man, and the Industry and good management
of the former did mueh towards lengthening out
the old soldier's pension, while the ecrupulous care
with whioh she sought to keep everything about
the house as he had been accustomed to see it
from his youth, and the reverence and respect
with which she treated him, made her well worthy
of the daughter's place which she held in bis
heart. Little Mercv?how dark that old house
would have been without her! was a sunbeam, a
hope that ever went before them, ousting a serene
light on their otherwise cloudy future.
CHAPTER III.
" Childhood, with tusuy brow,
And floating balr."
J une, with her rich, vigorous life, and thousand
musical voices, revelled in Ward s Hollow. It
had been one of those " heavenly days which cannot
dis," and the sun, as if enamored of earth
and beauty, lingered on the western hill tops,
while his level rays streamed across the Hollow,
*n/i foil on thft vtwiiwi puntrA On #ha noil lilr* <>
baptism of fire. The whols beautiful valley was
like an enchanted lake filled with waters of the
hue of burnished gold, through which the white
blossoms of the daisies looked fbrth like stars.
The evening meal at the old farm-house was over,
and the old Captain sate in his great arm chair,
in front of the open door, gazing over the beautiful
scene with a serene countenance, for, in submitting
to the discipline awarded him, he had
learned that in transferring the title deeds of his
estate to another, he had not parted with his inherent
right to their beauty. The widow plied
her needle by an open window, through which
the faint west wind brought the rich perfume of
the many fragrant flowers and herbs, that a century's
care had collected in the old garden beneath,
while little Mercy sate on the door step;
that low, flat, well-worn stone step, with its
edges half buried in the thick tnrf, constructing
various chains and curls from the long stalks of
the dandelions with which she had filled her
apron, alternately talking to her grandfather end
mocking a whippoorwill, that nightly poured forth
bis plaintive strain from the hedge behind the
house. Suddenly she threw aside her work, and,
turning to the old man, said:
" Grandfather, that little boy wants to goto
school with me, and 1 shall like it very much.
Hit mother, or the woman that he lives with,
asked us to-night if I might not stop for him every
day."
" And what boys do you know, I should like to
ask 1" replied the old man, laying his great hand
on ber shining hair.
w Why, Isaac?he said his name wm Isaac.
Isaac , the boy that lives in the house by
the mill."
Something like an expression of pain passed
over ths grandfather's face, as he turned to her
mother, sod asked:
"What is this, Jans? Does she mean Jedediah
Sewall's child?"
"Yes, father; I should have spoken to you
about it when we came home, but you was busy
In the garden ; besides," she added, with a glance
at Meroy, " 1 did not know but I had better wait
until we were alone."
Jane Ward was unwilling to have her child
catch aught of that bitterness of spirit of which
she and her father oould not help feeling at the
name of Miller Jed, a name wbioh, as if by
oommon ooneeat, was seldom or never mentioned
el the oia larm-Dousc
The old men understood her motive, and, sending
Mercy off on some slight errand, listened
with oompreened lips to the miller's request,
made known by the old housekeeper.
'-Have nothing to do with them, Jane!" he
exclaimed hastily, as she oeased speaking.
" Such was my first thought," she replied, " hut
the little boy plead so hard, that 1 could hardly
find it in my heart to refuse him."
" Aye, a double-faced imp, like his father, 1
dare say. Let the children remain strangers.
No good ever did or can come from knowing any
of that race ."
" Perhaps you are right, father. But, after
all," she added, after a moment's silence, " the
poor child must not be blamed for his father's
flaults, and when I think of him, with no one to
ears for him but that hard-hearted, selfish old
man, I cannot help pitying him. Somehow, he
reminded me of onr little Adam "
The old man arose and walked the floor for
some moasentSi at length he ptnsed before the
widow, and said?
"And yon think we might possibly do something
towards making this obild a batter man
than his father. Is it not so, Jeno?" ht sddod,
with a ssd smile.
" We eeuid try, father," was the reply
" Wall, yen may ha right, but I have little faith
1 have known Jed Bewail, man sad boy. for sixty
years, and 1 never knew kirn otherwise than mean,
grasping, and underhanded Bat, m you Bay, hit
child ia motherless, and, as Mercy will have to
associate with him if he attends school, you can
try. Let her wait for him at the ban, for on no
aocount would I hare her enter his house ."
It mattered little to Miller Jed in what spirit
a f&ror was granted, so long as he was sure of it;
therefore he hardly listened to the condition
attached to this. In fhet, he wss quite willing
Mercy should keep eat of his house, for who
knew what mischief lease and she might not oommit
there together.
Thus the ohildren became schoolmates, and it
was not long before their little fingers began to
smooth the tangled skein of life between the two
families?at least, as far as Isaac was ooncerned.
He often waited on the flat stone by th* JJflr*,
UUIU lutuv; m H ?*r r teuA> ?t * , auu,
perhaps, as with Jane Ward, the memory of little
nuboi |iraM ,u ine uku wntint uonri lor me
child, qui(e as much as hfk own ingenuous face
and wiaefog ra-uuurs; at any rate, Lb* aid man's
prejudioe wore slowly away; and, as the weeks
passed on, Isaac became not only a frequent but
_ ? _a il _ 1T.I1 al V. :_ .L . J! !
a wwwrar gunji ai ioc riouow, muu^u iu odcuience
to her grandfather's command, Mercy s foot
had never crossed his father's threshold.
And with this arrangement Miller Jed was
content; for with all his oo?t?iptjfor the, Wards.
?nd what he termed their bad management, he
oould not escape feeling a kind of reepect for
them ; besides, if ths boy was thsre, he woald be
oat of mischief st home.
It was not often that the shrewd old miller had
recourse to the lew; but when Isaac was about fifteen
years old, finding the validity of oertain mortgages
in his possession questioned, he placed the
business in the hands of an attorney. The case
was decided against him, and so exasperated was
hs by the loee and the round fees demanded by his
lawyer, that he swore, henceforth he would have
a lawyer of his own. Ha had one son, and he
should be s lawyer. Like all people wkh only
one idea in their heads, this became a mania with
him. True, it would eoet a sight of money to
educate him, but then Isaac would get it nil back.
Lawyers oould not only look sharp after their
own property, but their very words were gold
Miller Jed retained a very vivid memory of
suiu &? ILt) paid into the hands of'Sqtire G.,
and again ana again he oomputed how masy such
sums he would receive in a yesr. The inrmtment
woald bring a rare interest, he thought; therefore
Isaac was sent away to school, preparatory to entering
on a course of iaw, under the tukion of
the somewhat celebrated Judge G. of L.
It never occurred to him to oonsult the taste of
his child in this choice of an occupation; but,
happily, Isaac loved books better than anything
else in the world, save Mercy, whose swaet face
had grown to be a most rare book to hist, ever
freeh and new; therefore he made no objection.
[to be concluded next week ]
FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE.
Paris, July 25,1850.
To the Editor of the National Era :
The most common topic of conversation, for
several days past, has been the sadden decease of
President Taylor. He was universally respected
in Europe for the frankness and simplicity of his
character and the loyalty of his conduct. Among
the numerous notioes of him in the preee, 1 have
not met with one which was not eulogistic. The
same kind feeling seems to be extended toward his
successor. Mr. Fillmore's biography is sketched
with a free hand by several of the leading journals.
The fact that he is the son of a farmer
who puts his own hand to the plough, is particularly
insisted on as an illustration of our institutions.
Some of the journals suppose the aooession
of Mr. Fillmore to be the starting point
of a new external and internal policy. One of
the London papers thinks that this event will
have important bearings on ths question of the
liberty of the laboring olaaaee, In the Southern
W"l?- piMimm u ??<m"* no he an?cientioualy
devoted to the Republican fofm, and to
freedom, and too honest a man to sacrifice his
principles in political intrigues. This opens a
prospect for our country too flattering to be true.
What a revolution it would produoe, to have a
President who could practice on the principle
that slavery and freedom are irreconcilable I But
it is only fair to let M^^illmore speak for
himself, and define his own position. He will
take it as he wishes to be judged by posterity.
Before be does so, let us hope for the best, and
build castles in the air. Perhaps his first message
will make all these vanish into thin air, as
in fairv tales, the first blast on the buirle at the
destined knight made to disappear the parapets,
battlements, and towers, of magic oaatles. But
what matter? We shall have sinned on the side of
charity.
In honor to the late President of the United
States, the President of France wears full
mourning for one month, during whioh time all
balls and public receptions are to be suspended at
the Ulysle. The oolors on board all the Teasels
of the French nary are to be hung with crape
and stand at half mast for ten days.
The dissensions and mutual distrust of the
President and the legislates majority have
never more occupied the public mind than
at the present moment. This unusual attention
of the public to this trite subjeot was caused by
the late trial of the President's favorite journal,
L* Pouwir, for disrespect to the Assembly. This
step whs taken by that body in order to signify to
the President lt? determination not to be trilled
with by him under cover of the journals sustained
by his purse, and subjeot to his direction, and to
give the nation a proof of its resolution to oppose
his personal ambition, abould it lead him to repeat
hie follies of Strasbourg and Boulogne. In
the sentence pronounced by the Assembly, the
person of the responsible conductor of Le Povvoir
was left entirely out of the qoeation, and a
tins of five thousand francs imposed. This fine
is paid from the security money deposited with
the Government, and whioh is known to have
been furnished from the President's own purse.
I need not remind your readers that every French
political paper is obliged to keep s deposits with
the Government, vsrylng from eighteen to twenty-four
thousand franos, as security for its good
behaviour and moderation In the ciroarnstano?,
the fine imposed on Ie Pnvnr may be looked on
as a censure inflicted by the Assembly on the
President
The Ertrtme Isjt refused to take any part in
the trial, on the grounds that the Assembly ought
not to be judge in its own eeuse, but should defer
it to the legal tribunals, and that no journal
should be punished for expressing its opinion.
The election of the twenty-five members of the
Committee of Vigilanoe has also had the honor
of exciting the attention of a public, so long jadsd
and wsary of political commotions As the business
of this Committee is to watch over the inter
est* of the Stat*, in the sbsnsoe of the General
Assembly, and to convoke thin body in onne of urgency,
the Preeident wee anxloua to have a few
of hia own friends placed on it, * a token of the
confidenoe oT the Aaeenibly. lie preaaniad the
naineaof MM. Caaaabinnoaand D'Aogely. Theae
have both been rejected by the Assembly in half
a doten different votee. The men moat oppoeed
to the ambltioua project* of the Preeident have
been preferred. Among those elected are, General
Lamorioiere, Berryer, De Mornay, Lartey
lie, Vetin, and other*, well known for their hostility
to the Preeident. During the adjournment,
this Committee ie clothed with all the power* of
the Assembly, ever the troop*. There is no danger
of n breach of the public tranquillity by the
Prince. Three members of the Committee remain
to be chosen, and It U possible that a member
of the Left will ho among thorn
Thee* tw* sets gfrdseidod oppoeittoa to the
lews of the President show that the legislative
majority consider* him m nothing bat a temporary
instrument They hare beta reserved for
the close of the session, u the strongest notes
are reserved bj a band of musio, for the sod of
the piece.
A fact almost as important as tho jealousy existing
between the Royalist parties and the President,
is the increaaing animosity of those parties
to each other The Legitimists complain bitterly
! of being duped by the Orleanists in all the transactions
between them A more proper word would
be ovt-trui'd. The entire failure of the intrigues
for a renunciation of the House of Orleans in
favor of the Duke of Bordeaux, has imbittered
the Legitimists. The renunciation demanded
; was aimni* ?*''??
| of the House of Orleans
/ p-10 mm r 0
m<i iu<o prince* 01 aw nouse
never claimed any other right to the throne of
France, exoept the will of the people.
Tk- n.L. .f n 1 -i t ' -
ui cum ui Durunui cia>ms a uivine ngm
to govern France, even against the will of tha
people.
j The principle of Louis Philippe, excludes the
| idea of any right on his part, except as conferred
1 by what he calls the people. How, then.ean he
transfer a right which he denies having ?
Besides this impossibility on the score of prio.
ciple, the advantages of position are all in favor
of the Orleans branch. They hold the throne
of Belgian), and the presumptive heirship of
the throne of Spain. Nothing would prevent
them from agreeing to a Constitution of the most
liberal character. The Prince de Joinville and
the Ducheseof Orleans are personally very popular
in France.
On the other hand, the Duke of Bordeaux and
his very near relatives possess no throne. His
doctrine of divine right precludes the possibility
of accepting terms from the people; for under the
legitimate monarch, all right is considered aaoen_>dd*#peoplah-)<&iiongl.(rf,
out '
only privileges granted by him. And, to close the
parallel, the French people know nothing absut
him personally, while all their recollections of his
race are unfavorable This being the state of the
case, the Orleanists will not transact with the Legitimists.
The consequence may be, that the latter
will seek allies on the benohesof the Left, and
renew the old game of liberalism, played so long |
under Louis Philippe, without deceiving anybody
The President has lately visited several publio
places; among them the Hippodrome and the
church of St. Mery. He waa saluted a1 hit exit
from both with cries, a thousand times repeated,
I of " huzza for the Republic." It is a singular
fact, that whenever the President goes to a public
-1- IsL a I -1 -*
piauc, wuuuui ueiug ADDOUDCeU, IDC aDOVC OTJ,
considered disrespectful to him, is universal; but
whenever the trip has been ooncerted beforehand
with the authorities of a town or department,
there are always a great many shouts of " Huzza
for Napoleon
The Royalist} are organizing seoret societies in
every part of France. There is no doubt of this,
as several of them have already been discovered,
and the papers seised refer to an extensive organization
of affiliated societies. The Socialists are
probably doing the same thing. One of theirs
was dioovered at Paris, last week. Several arrests
were made, and a number of papers and the constitution
of the Bociety seized. The Royalist
societies seem to be most numerous in the north
of France.
There is something in the air unfavorable to
Ministers of War. In Austria and Belgium, they
have Just been changed, and in France, the position
* Oex,*.-*1 v ??utpuul leavei,.*-*
one. if e has offered his resignation three times |
to the President, who has refused to accept it. !
The cause of this wish to retire lies in the unpleasant
personal and official relations existing
between the Minister and General Changarnier.
About two weeks sgo, these were shown in rather
a singular manner: the Minister had written to
a colonel under the immediate orders of General
Changarnier, to ask for information on oertain
points. The colonel answered him directly, hut
was put under arrest by General Changarnier,
fir not sending his answer through his superior
offioer. Children's quarrels, these
The journals have changed their prioes to suit
the new law. The principal ones have raised
from thirty francs to forty-eight. Next week the
stamp tax will be levied.
It is feared that the President has ordered the
two fine galleries of paintings in the Louvre,
known as the Hpanish and the Htandisb galleries,
to be delivered to Louis Philippe, who has claimed
them hb his private property?on what ground
does not appear The first was purchased out of
the civil I let or twelve millions, voted annually to
Louia Philippe; and the aecond w&a bequeathed
by Frank Hall Standish, Esq, an English gentleman,
to Louis Philippe, for the purpose of being
placed in the Louvre.
It seems that Louis Philippe considers as his
private property everything he purchased with
the public money an King. The faroe of allowing
this preposterous claim was oommenoed with
the Provisory Government., and has been kept
up ever since, at great expense to the French
people. Last week the National Assembly ordered
the annual instalment of three hundred
thousand francs to be paid on the dowry of the
Duchess of Orleans, as if the French people had
not made p revolution to throw off all the burdens
as well as the humbug of royalty.
A short article in the Monttrur notices the reoent
treaty made by the United States with the
Dominican Kepublio, and calls attention to it as
the first step towards taking possession of the
island of Hayti. The fact is oommented on in
other papers with considerable acrimony of feeling
in regard to designs attributed to our oountry
of territorial aggrandizement. One journal indicates,
in so many words, that a league should
be formed against us of all the civilized nations. <
The report is quite current in the papers, that |
Spain has erected the island of Cuba into a viceroyalty.
The Marquis de Duero, a man of firm- 1
neas and ability, is said to be already designated 1
as Vioeroy. i
Home ship-owners at Dieppe and Havre are <
now oolleoting a new sort of oargo for the rich {
country of California, it la stated as a fact, in
the best papers, that measurea are already in 1
progress for the collection of nine hundred and '
fifty of the outcast women of Paris and the north- I
em seaport towns, for the purpoae of selling
them in California to the emigrants. I should
not mention a fiict that appears so incradible, 1
were it not universally credited bare. At all 1
events, I do not vouch for its correct nsas, for it is ;
impossible to believe that the Frenoh Government
would permit such an expedition to sail, or
that our owe would permit it to land.
Another report 1 will not vouch for is that our
Government has sent a Mr Capoten to Europe, <
for the purpose of studying the different methods i
of decapitation practiced in Europe. This would
be a curioua mission.
A better one la that of Duller Mann, Ekj , to
theSwiaa Confederation. My impression up to 1
the preaent week haa been that the mission of i
Mr. Mann waa a aecret one, but, aa I And it mentioned
in the Hwlee papers, I hare no heaitatlon in
peeking of it. Ho praam ted hie letten of credit 1
on the 14th Inot. to the Prealdent of the Federal 1
Council, assuring him of the sympathy of bia
Government, and lie earn eat deal re to strengthen
the bonda of friendahip which unite the two Republico.
Tbia la the A rat time we hare ever b en
repreoented in Hwllierland by a special mission,
and I can but felloitate the Government on (he
feet iter If, ae well ae the character of the agent It 1
haa selected. The mlaaien could not hare been <
more wisely limed, for the Federal Council haa i
to struggle dell* againat the intriguea of the
crown .4 head# of Europe.
The marriage of the Count of Montemolin, pretender
to the throne of Spain, with the youngest
aiater of the King of Naplaa, took plaoe privately
on the 10th inet. The Ambaeaador of Spain took
hie departure immediately after. The dlploaaatio ,
relatione of Spain and Naplaa will be auaprnded,
but there la no other danger
Wa are dally expeotlag tha ntwe of the oommanaau?t
ef hostilities In Sohlaswlg-Holsteia ]
The porta of tho Doohiee are oleeeiy blockaded ,
by the Ruaeian and Danish flaat,and thedlffioulty
mnat aeon be decided by n treaty, or a decisive
bottle W
CORRESPONDENCE OF THE ERA.
Cincinnati, July 31, 1800.
7'o the KdUor ej the \ntumal Kra :
It is now a settled fact that the wheat crop in
the West this season will be an unusoally good
one, both as to quantity and quality, and in all
probability the largest ever raised in one year
From information receded from various quarters
in the last three weeks, it appears that in none of
the States will the crop fall below the average.
in some, it will be fully equal to the usual yield ;
and in others, more than an ordinary crop is expected.
In Ohio ths aield U. fulls <* ?t>ord?
t 1 1 V, ' . .
more than in 18311, and in Indiana the incretase is
there is a great increase in the numt er of acres
of wheat grown this year over any other in the
history of the State, which, with a more than
AVAfflirfi trialrl will on iin/aAmtnnn1? la?"?o
J , ? .w- .... ?
surplus into the market.
It is from a very few sections of the wheatgrowing
States that we hear nny other than the
most favorable accounts. As the crop of last year
was a short one, the stock of old wheat everywhere
is small, and in the West wemsy say there
Is no surplus stock remaining?the high prices
current having induced farmers to sell every
bushel that conld be spared. This will have
some effect upon the market fbr a few weeks, but
cannot operate in favor of the seller long, as the
new crop will he in the market, to a considerable
extent, by the middle of August. There is good
reason for the expectation that the price of grain
will be lees than last year, and farmers who intend
to sell within reasonable time will have to
make up their minds to sell, at the beet, twenty
per cent, below last year's prices. It is useless
to expect the former rates, when it is known that
rtlys eue^,u^ ?"v Vsmuch graokcr^-ii. pieces
double?what they were last year, with no
prospect of an increase in the foreign demand
The advices from Europe, this season, give glowing
accounts of the growing crops; and should
the result of the harvest he as favorable as the
indications, there will be no grounds for expect-1
ing an increased foreign demand?which, it is
well known, has fallen off greatly in the last ten
months.
Ths crops of corn, oats, rye, and potatoes, will
also, on an average, be good through the West
this season?some of them over, and none, to any
considerable extent, under the usual yield. Tbla
season has indeed been a fruitful one, and, whatever
prices may be, the produoe of the West this
year will go far to relieve It from the load of debt
which two seasons of light crops have created.
We shall be enabled to pay off the debts of tho
past year, oarry forward many roads and plans of
internal improvement projected, and recover from
the paralyzing effect of the epidemic whioh visited
so many of the fairest portions of the West
last year, and the fear of which has hung like a
cloud over the enterprise and prospecta of many
to this day. Intelligence from the interior
strengthens the opinion that an unusually active
fall trade will commenoe early the ensuing season.
The stocks of Dry Goods end Groceries through
the country are generally light, and in some places
almost entirely run out Country merchants
will most certainly be in our cities early, and
make heavy purchases. The great basis of commercial
prosperity?the agricultural products of
our country?may be considered for the present
year safely founded ; and if it dees not lead to
over-trading and too sanguine calculations as to
the future, every department of trade and every
fluruce of the plenteous harvests v**
nefloent Providence has seen proper to bless us.
Indications from every pert or this State and
parts of others adjoining give assurances that
the greftt State Fair, to be held near this place in
September, will be very largely attended. This
Fair, you may remember, was to have been held
last fall, but was postponed on account of the
prevalenoe of the cholera through the West. A
liberal scale of premiums has been offered, and
most of them left open for competition from residents
of other Statesaa well as Ohio. The judges,
too, have been chosen impartially from the various
States. The Horticultural Society and
Mechanics' Institute of this city have united with
the State Agricultural Society in getting up this
festival, and it is under their joint patronage thst
the arrangements have progressed from the first.
The new building which has been for more
than a year in process of erection for the institute,
is nearly completed, and will be opened during the
progress of the fair. It is a noble edifice, and will
be an ornament to the city. The show grounds
atCanipWashington,abouttwomilesfromthec!ty,
have been enclosed, snd workmen are now employed
erecting the necessary buildings. We
may reasonably eipect such a display of oattle
and agricultural, horticultural, aud mechanical
products, as will be highly creditable toour8tate,
considered as a first experiment of this nature. In
due course of time, we shall be able auocesafully
to rival our more experienced friends of the Empire
State, to whose example as intelligent tillers
of the soil we are certainly much indented for the
efforts now making to advance Agriculture in the
West.
Since my last letter, the cholera has been do- i
creasing, and in a frw days will in all probability ]
leave the city. The reports of the board of (
health for the week closing July rtOth show .'I4fi I
ieatbs from all diseases, of which lift were from
Rholera, an average of 17 per dav of that dieease. i
The whole number of deaths in our city from
July let to '10th, inclusive, according to the re- i
ports, have been 1,<J10. As ths reports for the i
Bret week were defective, it would b? perhaps
nearer the truth to set the number down at 1.700.
Yours, P.
Bai.timoek, July, 1H.V).
For one who has sojourned occasionally in the
Jifferent cities of our Union, at different times
their various and changeful physiognomies (so to
ipeak) must have made an Impression. Cincinnati,
for instance, ohanges much more than Baltimore.
On returning to Cincinnati after a flvs
years absence, one is more struok with ths
jhanges and improvements than he is In Baltimore
after fifteen years absenoe. Yet Baltimore
kas improved as rapidly as any city on the Atlantic
border, with, perhaps, the exception of
New York. "Well, how does Cincinnati look
to you T" asked a friend of ours, on a return
there, after a five years absence in Washington.
" TTp to Seventh street," we replied
u libs an nlil feUn/f w it k ft niw AAfti Ati Kavntui
IIBVSH Vl? """ ? ?~ ' -V """
that like a perfect stranger.
And ao It la. A1 moat all that portion of Cincinnati
oallrd "Teiaa" ban grown up in that
time; crowded street* where I eaw nothing
when 1 left it, bat cow paths over the common
Walk even down Main street, and almost all the
ligns that the business bouses knew a few years
igo, know them now no more So with the private
residences, as many a Northern or Southern
sojourner who has been entertained there finds
out: .
H That'* not bar knocker?and aro all MtrwifI
la aba nut faithful whuai bla heart adoraa 1
That lady, air, l??* alnaa bar nama haa shancwl, j
And baring d?na ??, aha'a futgotteu jrcura."
In Baltimore, particularly In the heart of the
oily, one fluda things pretty wueh as he left ,
them Wt pnne Inwn Calvert etreet, for inatanoe,
ind there ia Balderetone'a wine aatabilahment,
which has been there to ue time out of mind j and
there ia the Mrohanical Empire House in the old
place, and a Urge dag-atone ia the pavement teUs
ua it waa founded in 1701. What was Cincinnati
then 7 We have talked with Simon Kenton,
" the last of the pioneers," who vm taken prisoner
by the Indiana ia the wilderness where
Cincinnati now stands, la New Orleans and St.
Louis, how feat all traoa of the Freueh population
U fading away. Benton and Philadelphia
hold a good deal of their old look, we mean of j
arisen yearn ago, for that U old ia our oalondar,
while Charleston has not changed much since oar
childhood, and we are now of a " certain age*1
In Baltimore the population have a oneness an
identity of appearance, different from that of Cincinati.
Beyond the Conrt House, in the Queen
City, you hear more of the German language,
particularly on Sunday, than of your own, from
the passers-by in the streets. Their eery clothes
you see were made in the old country, and soores
of them have just armed Their friends who
are walking beside them, and pointing ont appa
rent objects with great volubility, as you can see
hare been here a little while before them, as , 1
Z . *- naoiumeuis ?nica are
J Americanized show. In fact, the ()prm*j>
mstion nave that part of Cincinnati almost
entirely to themselves In Louisville you
see comparatively few foreigners, it has the look
Of Baltimore. Louisville in nonnlatinn and
character resembles Baltimore, la Bsttimort
however, there are fewer dandies?I mean fashionable
young men, young men who seem to have
nothing to do but to dress themselves foppishly
and idle about?than in any other city This im
preasion has frequently occurred to us; and while
the Baltimore women are remarkable for their
beauty, the men certainly are not remarkable f r
their personal appearance.
We believe that there is more social equality
in Baltimore than in any other large city in the
Union. The mechanic here stands higher, and he
is more oonscious of the fact. Many of the
highest public offices here are filled by mechan
ics. As a class, here, they are very intelligent, i
and very independent in their bearing?none
more so. One is struck too with the prevalence
of Methodism in Baltimore. Methodism thrives
better in the South than in the North ; its warm
aud trusting faith, so full of sunshine and hope, <
suits this meridian, and is compatible with the
comparative equality which prevails here.
You do not see as many negroes in the streets
sag fdrmprlv gwl im nnf ?n mnnw iKam
?i'VI ? ' """ "" ** "***"
T hatb not looked at the census to test
this fact, but to the eye it certainly appears eo
If Baltimore has not her public squares, like-Hh^sAevplrta,
filled with trees, she baa her monument
aquares, and her city spring*, in all of
which Cincinnati is so wofuily deficient The
only thing like a public square in Cincinnati is
in Kighth street, if we remember rightly , and there
half the time in fine weather the inhabitants
round about are kicking up a dust in the way of
cleaning their carpets. The dwellings in Cinrinnati
are extremely neat, and you see at once that
white labor has bad the care of them.
Recurring to Methodism. We go frequently to
the Light street Methodist Church, whither we
were frequently led in our boyhood by our good
old maiden aunt, and where, too, now we are
met by the spirit of improvement, at least for the
better arrangement of the church, if not in the
spirit of the worshippers. The old 41 bird-nest
pulpit" is removed, and a more modern and
roomy one substituted. And, by the bye, it hss
often occurred to us that those 44 bird-nest pulpits,"
as somebody calls them, of the olden time,
must have been great foes to the display of eloquence.
Perched away off from the worshippers,
the preacher must have felt himself with them,
but not of them?his nrurmss to his oongregation
must have been lessened in them. We do not
wonder that Whitefield preferred preaching in
the open air, with the 14 heavens for a sounding
board," as he said. With all his powers, he must
have felt himself cramped in one of those pulpits,
with the sounding board, looking like an extinguisher,
raised over his head. "Mother, why
don't they let that poor roan out?" said a little
child to his mother, who had taken him for the
first time to a church in which there was one of
thoee "bird-nest pulpits," where the urchin
thought the preacher was caged, and, by his esger
gesticulations, In the situation or Sterne's starling
Light street Church is generally filled on occasions
of worship, aad we shall never forget our
Cod aunt's taking us there when a child, to hesr
r. Suroiuerfield preach to the children. 1 hat
saintly epoetolie pale fees before us now, after
of the ohnroh Was crowded with
children, of which crowd ws formed one. Ws
noticed, even then, that not a gis^pUved with
her neighbor's riband, or her own; nd that the
boys entirely forgot their mischief, and were won
from their general listless indifference in church,
while ell gated into the faoe of the preaoher with
deep earnestness. One of his remarks we shall
never forget. It was something in this wise
44 Little children," he said, 41 if you were twsy
from home, snd your parents?your father or
mother?should write to you, how eagerly you
would open that wished-fur letter, would you
not? And how eagerly you would road every
line of it, and how you would treasure their ad
monitions, their food advloe. in vour memorv 1
You would resolve to do what they wished you
to do?just what they desired. You would resolve
should be your steady aim, and again and again
you would unfold that letter in some quiet room,
or when vou were apart from your playmates, and
read and reread it to yourselves, that you might
know it all by heart, and do juat as they hid you
You would remember how that dear parent loved
you, how much trouble and anxiety he had fell
when you were ill, and how affectionately ho had
watched over you ! Yea, you would think of all
this, 1 know you would, for you look like good
children?and you are here in church to-day, and
that is another proof that you are good children
Yes, you would think so much of that dear letter.
Well, little children, your Father who is in
heaven, your Heavenly Father, hue sent you a
letter also, and here it is in the shape of this book
which I hold in my hund, and of whioh you have
ill heard?I mean the Bible" And, ao speaking,
he explained to the children the oharacter of
Christ. What I remember moat distinctly,
though, ia that passage, and auch a manner'
With the capital improvements in Light atreet
church, while my taste could not but admire it,
I own I longed for the old appearanoe of things,
that I might oall up the more vividly the apirit of
that eloquence, now gone, which ao interested and
obarmed my boyhood. I have just been reading
Hummeifield's Sermons and Sketches of Sermons,
and in doing so 1 have been trying to recall his
manner and tones as he Mood in that old pulpit,
and amount for the effect which he produced in
their delivery, for they are certainly not remarkable
sermons in matter, and I can in a measure
realise their effeot. Hut it requires one, in doing
no, to keep constantly in the "mind's eye" the
living, breathing utterer of them, to their rery
interjections.
Baltimore is oalled the Monumental City. It
might also be oalled the City of Societies. For
scsroely a day puses thst some one of these numerous
bodies do not turn out, often, alM, to bury
their dead. But in a country like ours, such
societies (for they are almost all of them of a
benevolent character) do inoelouleble good in the
example which they set of temperance and philanthropy.
And as man is a social being, these
associations bring men together without the need
of thsir resorting to the bar roam, or the theatre,
to gretify n questionable sociability and love of
excitement.
There Is one kind of Association, however,
I I l _ A 1 S /^i .11 1_ .Ulae
inougD Din J Dt me niuat unriui ui bii iu uui ura ,
which ia, nevertheless, the aource of a great
many outrage. We allude to the different fire
ooaipaniea. Proverbially, Philadelphia la the dty
of brotherly lore, (on paper), and of Firemen's
moat unhrotherly riou in faot. They arlee
in the flret place from emulation among the firemen,
bat they end, like emulation in all other
flaces, too often in strife, bloodshed, and murder
I ere, but the other evening, a Fire Company was
outrageously assaulted, In returning peaceably
from a fire where they did good service, and it
is shrewdly euspeotet. that the assaulters were
members of another oompeay. There eras no one
murdered, but llmbe were broken, and other se
vers injuries inflloted. These matters art a din
grace to a civilized community, and there seems
no likelihood of an end being put to each proceedings.
It strikes as that it would be well if none
but appointed and paid firemen, eeleoted by the
authorities, were allowed to act as firemen; or it
would be well to moke all firemen give bonds for
their pseoeable behaviour at Ares, if such a thing
were practicable. Even Washington was ones
(we do not know how it Is now a-days) subject to
such disturbances. Ws remember, more than
onoe. to have made our escape in at Fuller's (now
Wlllard'a) window, to get out of the range ot
brickbats, which one Fire Company were hurling
at another. Give us any law hut mob law, eay
we, and almost any kind of riots rathtr than
those which sprleg up between such e useful
dam of citizens as that of whleh our different
Fire Companies ere ooaposed. Te see Firemen
destroying each other's engines, and taking eaeh
ether's Uvea whiles fire ia raging, la about as had
as Nero's fiddling while Rove wee burning.
T.

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