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Chicago daily tribune. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1872-1963, February 23, 1873, Image 5

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Tho Atlantic, Scribner’s, and
the Galaxy, for March.
Tiie Quarrel of Jefferson and Ham-
ilton—Life Under Glass.
Robert Dale Owen’s Autobiog
raphy—Lucca, Nilsson,
and Kellogg.
Professional and Literary Incomes—
Professor BTorse—A Napoleonic
XhurlOTT Tweed’s Recollections of Horace
Greeley—Cardinal Autonclll—
Among the Indians.
In these days of disheartening disclosures of
official dishonesty, it is delightful to read the
account •which Parton gives (in tho Atlantic for
March} of Hamilton’s inflexible integrity, al
though pressed by actual want, while adminis
tering the Treasury Department. At that time,
—1791 to 1794, —while ho was handling millions
upon Tniliinna of the public money, he was
pinched severely in tho effort to live upon hia
little salary. “If you can conveniently lend
me twenty dollars for a few days,” he wrote to a
friend, in September, 1791, “be so good as to
send it by the bearer.” The friend sent a check
for fifty dollars. And Talleyrand said, in 1794,
after coming from Hamilton’s house, “I Lave
beheld one of the wonders of the world,—a man
who has made the fortune of a nation laboring
all night to support a family.” •
■ The present chapter is entitled
‘•the quabdel op jeffebson and Hamilton,”
and relates the successive steps of tho diverg
ence which, in tho ond, Carried them so far
apart. Much of their estrangement was due, of
course, to tho infirmities of their temper and
the collision of their ambitions ; but, bad thero
been none of these, their radical difference of
opinions and habits of thought would have
prevented any permanent union.
The mere difference of opinion between them was
extreme. One day in April, 1791, when the Vico
President and the Cabinet dined together at Jeffer
son's house to talk over some public question, the
conversation turned, as it often did in those days,
upon forms cf government. “Purge tho British Con
stitution of its corruption,” aaid Sir. Adams, “and
give to its popular branch equality of representation,
and.it would be the most perfect constitution ever
devised by the wit of man.” Hamilton waited a
moment, and then said: “Purge it of its corruption,
and give to its popular branch equality of representa
tion, and it would become on impracticable Gov
ernment. As it stands at present, with all its
supposed defects, it is the most perfect Government
that ever existed.” What intelligent American citizen,
whoso memory of public events ran back to 1765, and
who had access to the pigeon-holes of the State De
partment, could bo expected to listen to such ah' Opin
ion without something like indignation ?
But, in truth, when Hamilton pronounced tho word
government, he meant something radically different
from Jefferson’s idea of government. What is gov
ernment ? Jefferson’s answer would bare been: An
agency for the execution of the people’s will. -Hamil
ton must have answered: A means of curbing and
frustrating the people’s will. The British Govern
ment had proved itself practicable, by being able, in the
teeth of the people's will, to alienate and repel the
American Colonies; and it had accomplished this by
buying voters at the polls and voters in the House of
Commons. Hence, in a Hamiltonian sense, it was a
“practicable” Government, There were members of
Congress who had a pecuniary interest in supporting
Hamilton’s financial system. This he regarded as le
gitimate and desirable; while good republicans could
only think of it with horror, as if jurymen should sit
in judgment on a cause in which their fortune was
Hr. Barton takes great pains to show that
Hamilton was a Monarchist. Jefferson asserted
that he was such:
Oa "hia ■way to Philadelphia, Jefferson stopped, as
usual, at Mount Vemou t when the President renewed
the subject in conversation, and urged him to recon
sider hia intention to resign; for he “ thought it im
portant to preserve the check of hia opinions in the
Administration to keep things in the proper channel
and prevent them from going too far.” The check I
The check to what 7 The President said ho did not be-’
lieve there were ten men, worth consideration,
in the country, who had so much as thought of
transforming the Republic into a monarchy. Mr.
Jefferson replied that there was “a numerous
sect who had monarchy in contemplation, of
whom the Secretary of the 'Treasury was one.” The
most intimate friend Hamilton ever had was Gonver
neur Morris, who pronounced his fufieral oration.
This exquisite writer stated Hamilton’s opinions, at
much length, in 1811, in a letter to Robert Walsh, of
Philadelphia. The following are come of Morris’ex
pressions : “ General Hamilton disliked the Constitu
tion, believing all republican government radically de
fective. . . . He hated the republican government.
... He trusted that, in the changes and chances of
time, wo should be involved in pome war, which might
strengthen our Union and nerve the Executive. ...
He never failed, on every occasion, to advocate the ex
cellence of, and avow his attachment to, monarchical
“It would almost seem,” says Mr. George A,
fihore,” in his entertaining article.
“life under glass,”
“as if the old geographers were using language
in a Pickwickian sense when they marked this
region of the globe as being in a temperate zone.
Probably many a youth has wondered, as he has
eat shivering on the hack seat of an old-fash
lonedNew England school-honse, during a.wintry
northwester, what sort of a zone an intemperate
one must be, if tho one in which his lot was
cast could be called temperate. A climate can
hardly be considered remarkable for temperate
cess which swings round the circle, from ultra,
tropical heat in July almost to the intense cold
of the planetary spaces in January,—a range,
in some years, of more than 120 degrees of
Fahrenheit’s scale. Nearly sixty people have
been sun-struck in New York Cityduring a single
midsummer's day, while, a few months later, tho
Cady journals would, perhaps, contain accounts
of deaths by freezing, either in tho city or on
beard of vessels off the coast. Except during &
part of the autumn, and a few days or weeks at
other seasons, extremes would seem to he the
norms! condition of our capricious climate, —ex-
tremes, not only of temperature, but of tho
hvgrometric state of tho atmosphere. As a
. general rule, tho crops of the much-enduring
fanner or gardener are cither drowned in Alaskan
floods of rain, or withered under a Coloradan
_ Mr* Shove proposes a most unexpected, but
delightful, escape from those vicissitudes of the
seasons. Hia plan is simply that people live the
vjar round under glass; that they drive, walk,
*hop, do business, promenade, live, move, and
have their being, in vast glass arcades. He be
neves that what is now done, on a small scale,
hy individuals, to foster a few tender plants
from the tropics, or a few vines of the luscious
pipes cf Southern Europe, may be done on a
wge scale by-corporations or by the State, to
Jhield from the rigors of a Isorthcm winter
thousands of tender human plants, whose organ
izations are too weak to bear exposure to cold
Kid storm. Mr. Shove develops his plan for a
portable tropic with great fulness of detail:
.. the Adirondacks and other high regions are to
r* B pulmonary invalid in summer, the proposed win
gardens would be during the cold season, though
«llh much greater advantages for the restoration of
rffjth. Those great agents in the materia mediea of
~*“2re—pnre air, sunshine, and exercise—could there
S'®— oat, without hindrance, their beneficent effects,
of mental conditions upon bodily health
r known. As the depressed invalids entered the
realm of glass, their almost extinguished hope
yud rise with the temperature. With the shutting
door they would leave behind the cold, cheerless
outside, and find themselves In & paradise of
verdure, and bloom. They would almost for
|?theSr disease amid the inexhaustible attractions
Jpounding them. Cheerfulness would take the place ;
rjtepondency, and thus the medicament of the ;
£*** mother would have a fair field for its hcalth-giv
The reader is, no doubt, curious to know how
*•*8 Proposed to board and lodge the crowd of
fJJJJI thousand people which would bo col
at one of these establishments:
• the Tp-iin edifice, certainly. The plan em-
Tf*® 8 * a broad street, or boulevard, extending entirely
outside of the central building, at a dls
of three or four hundred feet from ila wall. This
£9*vard would be at least one hundred feet wide,
would hare walls and roof of iron and glass, like
g&rdea, except that ita walls would not be more
JJjGae third as high. It would have a wide carriage-
In the middle, paved with wood or as
and on either side smooth, level walks
promenading, separated from the car
by ornamental iron railings, cov
®jjwitb flowering vines. The boulevard would be
; *ad ventilated like the gardes, with which it
would be connected by glass-inclosed passage-way*.
Hero would be tbe finest of imaginable street-arcades,
more.than a mile in circuit, adapted for drives, for
horse-back riding, or for promenading, and available
for use by the most delicate invalid in all weathers.
Lei the wintry storms rage never bo fiercely out of
doors, here would be found perpetual calm and
On the outside circumference of this crystal arcade
would be'situated the spacious hotels and boarding
houses for the accommodation of the patients. They
would be connected with the arcade by short glass
inclosed passage-ways. . . ,
The large, open spaces between tho garden-walls and
the surrounding arcade would be handsomely laid out
and ornamented with evergreen trees, clumps of
shrubbery, statues, fountains, gravelled walks, grass
plots, etc., and would be used as resorts on mild, sun
ny days. Surrounded ru all sides by high walls, these
open-air gardens would be sheltered from rude winds,
and would furnish fine opportunities for exercise.
Between the hotels, and, like them, connected with
tho arcade, would pc numerous shops of various kinds,
to supply the wants of the visitors, who would thus bo
enabled, to do their shopping without having to wait
for fair weather,
Mr. Sbovo thinks the ingenuity and skill that
builds Crystal Palaces, and magnificent conser
vatories like that of the Duke of Devonshire,
can protect its own kind in the same way. The
Crystal Palace of ISSI was built almost wholly
of Iron and glass. It covered eighteen acres of
ground, and cost leas, in proportion to its size,
than an ordinary barn.
Lest any who have read thus far should deem tho
idea of erecting structures of such immense size en
tirely impracticable, it is perhaps well enough to re
mind them that the only limitation in this direction is
the ainouat of capital at command. A forty-acre
building is only a little more than twice aa largo in
area as the Crystal Palace of 1851, and is quite within
the limits of the practicable. The London Exhibition'
building of ISG2, though only partly of iron and glass,
covered an area, with tho picture-gallery and annexes,
of twenty-four and a-hulf acres. A generation which
has witnessed such wonders in architecture and
mechanism; which has seen cables stretched across
the ocean by an iron steamer of 30,000 tons burden;
which has seen tho mingling of the waters of the
Mediterranean and Bed Seas, the tunnelling of the
Alps, and the building of a railroad across a continent,
need hardly be startled from its equipoise by the mag
nitude of uuy plan requiring .only constructive skill
and capital for its realization,
A picture ia drawn of tho bewildering fascina
tion of euch a garden :
No dty in America can, at present, offer such allure
ments to people of refined or luxurious tastes os would
bo concentrated within the limits of the garden and its
surroundings. The Central Park of New York, how
ever lovely in summer, would appear bleak and barren
under a wintry sky, compared with the leafy and floral
liveliness to be found under the sea of glass, forming
the garden roof. There would be a circular island
from the tropic zone, insulated by the snows of a
northern winter, in lion of the ocean surf. The elite
of the great cities would flock to it, aa In summer they
flock to Newport, Saratoga, and Long Branch. Here
they would find, besides summer warmth and summer
verdure, all the means needful to gratify a taste
educated by the opportunities for culture
furnished by a large city. Operas, con
certs, theatres, lectures, libraries, galleries, mu
seums,—all of high excellence, —would provide inex
haustible sources of entertainment or instruction.
Owners of fast trotters or of stylish turnouts would
all be anxious to display their teams on the splendid
track of the glass boulevard, before the admiring gaze
of the assembled multitudes. Mammas, with grown-up
unmarried daughters, would discover that the Etato of
their health and that of their girls required a few
weeks* sojourn within the enchanted circle, where
winter and rough weather were obsolete terms. The
great dailies would have correspondents at such a cen
tre of attraction, to pick up gossip and chronicle the
arrivals of notables. Poets, artists, essayists, novelists,
would find endless materials and suggestions to work 1
into poems, pictures, essays, and stories. Possibly, I
too, some enthusiastic horticultural habitue would give
his diary to tho public, under the paradoxical title of
Jly "Winter in a Garden. |
Robert Dale Owen, in bis autobiography, gives
a glimpse of the habits of
; Every one remembers Chalmers' sorrowful
cry, “ Poor, Drunken Scotland.” Hr. Owen
: , In those days Scotland would have been a rich field
.•for Father labors. Habits of drunkenness
were common alike to rich and poor. They were as
sociated with good-fellowship, and wore tendeny dealt
with, even by the Church. The orgies-of Osbaldistoae
Hall, graphically described in Bob Boy, found their
counterpart in many a Scottish manor. The old bacr
chanalian rhyme,
“ He who goes to bed, goes to bed solter.
Falls as the leaves do, and dies In October ;
But he who goes to bed, goes to bed mellow.
Lives a long, jolly life, and dies an honest fellow.”
was quoted half in earnest, as apology for the excesses
which wealthyand respectable hosts, under tbe gufce
of hospitality, literally forced upon their guests, when
tbe cloth was drawn and the ladies had abandoned the
dinner-table to their riotous lords and musters,
I have heard my father, more than once, relate what
happened on such an occasion, wbeu he was one of the
actors. He had been dining with a party of eight or
ten gentlemen and a few ladies, at tbe luxurious coun
try-seat of a friend who bad shown him much kindness.
When the ladies withdrew, the host, having caused the
butler to set out on tho table two dozen bottles of port,
sherry, and claret, locked the door, put the key in his
pocket, and eaid to his guests, “Gentlemen, no shirk
ing to-night I Not a man leaves this room till these
bottles are emptied.”
No remark was made in reply, and the wine passed
round. My father drank three glasses, the utmost
to which I bare ever known him to go, though he ha
bitually took a glass or two of sherry after dinner. At
the fourth round he passed the bottles without filling.
His host remonstrated, at first in jest, then in a half
angry tone, when tho recusant persisted. Thereupon
my father, approaching a front window which opened
on the lawn, only a few feet below it, threw up the
sash and leaped out, followed by three or four other
This enraged their host. As tbo fugitives looked
back they saw him upset the dinner table with a vio
lent kick, smashing bottles and glasses, and declaring
with an oath, that, if they didn’t choose to drink that
wine, nobody else should.
Tho deserters joined tbe ladles in tbe drawing-room,
but the host did not reappear; and my father, as lead
ing conspirator, lost, and never regained, his friend
Young men who won’t work, and won’t go West,
and sigh for luxurious ease, and think that hap
piness lies in leisure and luxury, may learn from
one of Hr. Owen’s reminiscences
He is epo along of one of bis father’s partners:
A man of letters, educated to every classical attain
ment, and the inheritor of a princely fortune, this gen
tleman bad been able to gratify, at a wish, his culti
vated tastes. His marriage was fortunate, and hia
children grew up around him with the fairest promise.
He had a handsome town house in a fashionable square
in London, end a country-seat six or eight miles off,
in the mlaat of one of those magnificent Euglihh
parks,—the ideal of stately rural elegance,—with its
trimly kept lawn and its wide-spreading chase, dotted
over with clumps of noble old trees, where the deer
sought refuge from tho noonday heat, and a lair at
Its owner had travelled over Europe, and brought
hack, as mementos of his journey, paintings and
statuary* by some of the best masters, ancientandmod
era, with which to adorn bis favorite retreat. The
house itself, in which 1 spent some happy days, with
its rich marble columns and balustrades, was a fine
specimen of the purest Palladlan manner, where all
that luxurious refinement could devise had been un
sparingly lavished.
There my father—during a brief interval in
his own public life of incessant bustle—found
bis friend, with no occupation more pressing
than to pore over the treasures of bis library,
and no graver care than to superintend the
riches of a conservatory where wealth had brought to
gether, from half the word, its choicest plants and
flowers. They spent some day* of undisturbed quiet;
not an incident beyond the conversation of a sedate
and intellectual family circle and the arrival and de
parture of a friend or two to break the complete re
Delightful my father thought It, in contrast with the
busy turmoil ho had left; and ono day he said to hia
host, I’ve been thinking that if I ever met a man who
has nothing to desire, you must be he. You have
health, cultivation, a charming family. You have
gathered round you every comfort wealth can give, the
choicest of all that nature and art can supply. Are
you not completely happy 7 ”
Never, my father said to me, would he forgot the
sad, unexpected reply: “ Happy 2 Ah, Mr. Owen, I
committed one fatal error in my youth, and dearly
have-1 paid for it I I started in life without an object,
almost without an ambition. My temperament dis
posed me to ease, and I indulged it. I said to myself,
* I have all that I eco others contending for; why
should I struggle ?’ I knew not the curse that lights
on those who have never to struggle for anything. I
ought to have created for myself some definite pursuit,
literary, scientific, artistic, political, no matter what,
so there was something to labor for audio overcome.
Then I might have been happy.”
jlv father suggested that ho was scarcely past the
prime of life, and that in a hundred ways he mlgh w
still benefit others, while occupying himself. “Come
and spend a month or two with mo at Braxfield,” he
added. “ You have a larger share in the Lanark Mills
than any of my partners. See for yourself what baa
been done for the work-people there and for their
chhdren; and give mo tho benefit of your suggestions
and your aid.”
«Itis 100 late, 1 * was, the reply. “The power is
tone. Habits are become chains. You can work sod
o good; but for me,—ln all the profitless years gone
by I seek vainly for something to remember with
pride, or even to dwell on with satisfaction. I have
thrown away a life. I feel, sometimes, as if there
we**e nothing remaining to mo worth living for.”
And neither then, nor at any future time, did this
strange martyr to leisure visit the establishment in
which ho had invested $150,000.
Stem© gays a man’s mind and bis body are
exactly like a jerkin and a jerkin’s lining;
rumple the one, yon rumple the other. This
power of the mind over the body has long been
known by philosophers, and practised by
quacks, who, as Edward Spencer says in
have always had a subdued and bewildering
sort of consciousness ihat the chief part of their
profits and their influence is duo to the power
which the mind exercises over the body. He
There are some very striking Instances on record
of the Imagination doing the work which phyaic
alone is fancied to be able to perform.
When the Reformation appeared in Xatauama,
Prince Eadrivil went to Rome in person to
give the Pops assurance of his devotion to the cause
of orthodoxy. On his departure, the Holy Father
presented him with a box of precious relics. Having
come home, tho relics were made use of by the monks
for the cure of a demoniac who bad hitherto cuccess
fullv held out . against every kind of exorcism. The
success was inettotaneous and complete,—a miracle
was performed coram populo , and - the virtues of
the relics established beyond debate. The Prince
was confirmed in bis faith, yet he was not
so enthusiastic but he saw a Supercilious smile
on the face of the young man who had been
keeper of the relics. u Upon inquiry as to the mean
ing of sneers upon so solemn and awful an occasion,
and pardon being promised, the Prince learned to his
disgust that, the genuine relics having been lost upon
the way, the keeper had supplied their place with bones
collected how ho could, and put into a box the fac
simile of that which was lost.” This lot of rubbish,
the bones of cats and dogs, picked from tho highway,
it was that had performed the miracle ! The legend
says the Prince became a Protestant straightway. I trust
be did not suspect either the monks or the demoniac
of deceiving him, for, so far as they were concerned,
the miracle was beyond doubt a genuine one, working
a bona fide cure of a bona fide affliction through tho
simple force of the expectant and excited Imagination.
And It is in this way precisely, nine times out of ten!
that medicine works its cores, and especially that sort
of cure most triumphantly adduced In proof of it
surpassing efficacy.
Old Robert Barton, the naive and learned
anatomist of melancholy, gives ua most ingenu
ously an excellent instance of the manner in
which a faith, in amulets may get possession of
a mind that ought to bo capable of rejecting
such things entirely, or, rather, of accepting
them for what they are really worth. Speaking
of tho use of spiders for ague, Burton says:
I first observed this amulet of a spider in a nutshell
lapped in silk, etc., so applied for an ague by my
mother; whom, although I knew to have excellent
skill in chlrurgeryj sore eyes, aches, and suen experi
mental medicines,.., .yet among all other experiments,
this, methought, was moat absurd and ridiculous. I
could see no warrant of It. Quid araiiea cum felref
For what antipathy? Till at length, rambling among
authors (&a I often do), I found thin very medicine in
Dioscoridos, approved by Matthlolos, repeated by
Aldrovandu?, etc. I began to have a better opinion of
it, and to give more credit to amulets, when 1 saw it
in some parties answer to experience.
So the scholar was led byDioscoridos to accept
what his reason and common sense had encour
aged him to reject.
Baron Dlmsdale has quoted the explanation of aa
old Bhocmaker, accused of witchcraft, of the means by
which he cared the ague, “ I cure people,” said be, :
** by pretending to cure them. People say that I can
cure the agno; and when they come to me I say that I |
can cure them, and then I go into my garden and bid
them wait until my return ; I cut a twig off some tree, ;
cut nine notches in it, and then I bury it in the garden,
and tell the patient 1 bury the ague with it. I obtain
confidence on account of the charm which people
think I possess ; and by performing these and other
ceremonies it generally succeeds so well that the indi
vidual basno return of his ague,” It will bo noticed
here that the worthy shoemaker, though not able to
say why, had a certain faith in tho validity of his
curative powers, without which faith be would have
practised in vain; for, as John Damascenes said, no
medicine is efficacious unless given, as well as taken,
in faith. Here, again, the doctor is like the orator,
ond the secret of his sway is a counterpart of the si via
me fiere of the rhetoricians. It was Galen's maxim,
that hope and confidence outvalued the drug ; per
haps tho latter science of medicine will decide that
where hope and confidence are, the drug may be quite
dispensed with. j
Iq these facte, and others like them, Hr.
Spencer finds a vindication of quacks. Doctors
cure, not by their science, which is blind and un
certain, but by their personality. They touch
the springs of hope and confidence, soothe the
chafed nerve, quiet the secret fear, and revive
the fainting heart:
Now, tho real vindication of the quack lies in this,
and in tbo further fact that the pbjfaician's confidence
in his own powers, as a rule, is the measure of the
reliance npon those powers, and consequent
ly is a measure of the efficacy of tho treatment. If the
a filleted fancy his doctor predestinated to heal him, ho
wilt be healed. But this feeling of confidence must
originate for the doctor In bis consciousness of power,
—not power of diagnosis to determine the malady, nut
shill of judgment to determine tho remedy, but con
coneciouHuees of mastery in himself, in the recondite
forces of bis personal nature, to meet and overcome
and dissipate all Linds of disease.
From all those things, ends the writer, wo
begin to discover tho doctor’s right place and
real importance in tho economy of society.
His work is not to be done by means of drug or
knife, but by moans of bis counsels, and, above all, by
force of his manner. Ho enters into the very life of
the invalid in his struggle with disease, sustains him,
and bolds up for him hie languishing right band until
the victory is decided, as Aaron and Hur held up the
right hand of Moses when Israel fought against Ama-
Ick. It is tho doctor cures us, not the doctor's physic;
and tbo quack has very often valid reason against tbe
scornful repudiation he gets from the physician, since
bis mere manner very often effects that which all the
science of the other has failed to accomplish.
Henry James, Jr., offers tho only short story
in tho number, “ The Madonna of tho Future,”
which is good, but would have been much better
if told in one-tbird as many words. Hr. HoWr
ells’ “Chance Acquaintance” glides into its
fourth chapter, and is about the pleasantest,
raciest reading in tbe Atlantic . Rose Perry’s
delightful little verses, "Best,” and Bayard
Taylor’s poem, “ John Reed’s Thoughts,” wo
have already reprinted. Besides these, there is
“Heartbreak Hill.” by Celia Thaxter, and “Hy
Sparrows,” by Kate Hillard. Edward Howland
has a sketch of “Tho Abbe Galiani,” an odd
character of the eighteenth century.
there are reviews of “ Off the Kkelligs.” by Jean
Ingelow; “Coupon Bonds, ami Other Stories/'
hy J, T. Trowbridge; “ Love is Enough,” by
Willfam Morris; “A Memorial of Alice and
Phoebe Cary,” by Mary Clcmmer Ames; “ Xhor
valadcn: His Life uud ’Works,” by Eugene
Plon; “The Life and Times of Henry, Lord
Brougham,” written by himself; u Fables Be
specting the Popes in the Middle Ages,” by Dr.
J. J. Von Dolliuger; “ Lectures on the Eeunion
of the Churches,” by Dr. J. J. Von Bollinger;
“ Old Landmarks of Boston,” by S. A. Drake;
“ Concord Days ; ” by A. Broueon Alcott; “The
Issues of American Politics,” by Orrin Skinner;
“Theatre,” par Theophilo Gautier; P. J
Proudhon. Sa Vie et sa Correspondanco,” par
C. A. Sainte-Beuve; “Memoire d’un Journal
ist©,” par H. de Millemeasaut; “Deralteund
der none Glauhe,” ein BeUcnntniss von David
Friedrich Strauss; “Journal d’un Diplomats eu
Italic, Notes intimes pour eervir a VHistoire du
Second Empire,” par Henry d'idoville.
in tho editorial department is given to & critique
of the two singers who have just left Chicago,
and who sang a fow weeks ago in Boston. Lucca
is described by a contrast with Nilsson :
Of Madame Lucca herself it is hard to speak in mod
erate terms ; so thoroughly human an actress we have
rarely seen. There seems to be a general, perhaps in
evitable, desire to compare her with Miss Nilsson, and,
in spite of the proverbial quality of all comparisons,
we think that a comparative study of tho two artists
would not be wholly profitable. There are many
points of resemblance between them. Both are essen
tially lyric actresses, rather than singers pure and sim
ple, having the same power of realizing tho highest
dramatic conception of both poet and composer, and
seeming able to draw inspiration from an
abstract idea, a grandly pregnant situa
tion, even when poet ana composer have
shown themselves incapable of worthily developing
such situation or idea, and, in fine, both showing the
game tendency to break through all wern-out conven
tionalities and stage traditions.
Lucca is transcendently human, with all the intense,
human and womanly qualities. She and Nilsson are
to each other os Beethoven’s Leonora and Wagner's
Brunuhilde. The' purely musical element is per
haps more preponderant in Lucca than in Nilsson, and
her acting is often apparently quite as dependent upon
the music as upon the situation ; witpese. the way in
which her whole being floats on the melody Tu V as
dit In the fourth act of tho Huguenots, the melody
seeming to catch her up from the couch upon which
she has fallen In despair, and to waft her as on a cloud
into Raoul’s arms, forgetful of all save her love. Luc
ca’s acting in this scene may well be considered her
finest effort.
Of Mies Kellogglhe editor s&ys :
Miss Kellogg comes back to us as complete an artist
08 ever,—the pure penetrating quality of her voice
seeming even more beautiful, if possible, than in past
seasons. As a singer, as far as purity of style and
method, and fine, sympathetic, musical expression go
to make one, wo should rank her even above Madame
Lucca or Miss Nilsson. Her singing is, in fact, almost
absolutely faultless. She is, moreover, an intelligent,
conscientious, and painstaking actress, and a little
more of fire, passion, and intrinsic dramatic force
would place her in the very highest rank upon the
lyric stage.
Dr. Holland, in hia “ Topics of tho Times," in
tho March Scribner, has some strong words on
the subject of
Ho protests almost bitterly over the advantage
in pecuniary returns the lawyers and doctors
have over editors, teachers, clergymen, and
authors. These two classes aro paid in differ
ent ways,—tho former by fees, the latter by
salaries. The men of fees, ho says—
are the physician and the lawyer. One has to do with
the physical diseases of men, and the other with
their legal quarrels and their crimes. We do not, in
the slightest degree, disparage the usefulness of these
two classes of professional men I we simply say that
the better the other classes perform their work, the
less these haVe to do. They live upon the moral and
physical evils of the* country; and there is no reason
in the nature of their calling for their advantage in
pecuniary rewards over the other classes. There is no
reason why a general practitioner of medicine, or a
specialist in medicine or surgery, should sit in his
otßce, and take in a single fee, for a service that costs
him fifteen minutes of time, a sum equal to that which
a teacher or a clergyman works all day to win.
Tbero is no reason why a physician, called into a
house in consultation, should charge for his service a
sum that it takes an editor two days of hardVork to
earn. There is no good reason for the setting of a
price upon a surgical operation, performed in half an
hour, that the xnoet successful author’s copyright can
not pay In a month. It is simple, inexcusable, and
outrageous extortion. If we go from the physician
to the lawyer, we find still higher fees. The simplest
work, such as searching titles, work that only demands
accuracy, and is usnlly done by clerks, commands a
price that few men ran afford to pay, while larger
work involves fees that are startling and stupendous.
Some of the incomes of lawyers in this dty are large
enough to swallow up the salaries of a dozen, or twice
that number* of salaried professional men. The way
in which the people are bled in the process of securing
justice is often most shameful. So shameful is It
that thousands submit to wrong rather than go Into
any litigation whatever. People dread getting into a
lawyer’s hands as they dread getting Into the bands of
a New York hackman. There are honorable and rea
sonable lawyers, without doubt,—men in whose honor
wo may implicitly trust; but there are so many
extortioners among them that they have given a bad
flavor to the profession. There are shysters and
scamps enough in New York, attached to the profes
sion. to sink it, were it not that there are noble men in
it who are nnpurcbasable. But lawyers’ fees are no
toriously large as a rule, and altogether outweigh the
salaries of the salaried professional men.
Dr. Holland grows very vehement. He thinks
the large fees leave nothing for adequate sala
ries. The salaried servants of the community
are wronged:
There ought to be tome remedy for both evils.
Where It is to be found we do not know. The phy
sician has somo apology for getting high fees of those
that can pay, because he is obliged to do so much for
the poor who cannot pay; but the lawyer, as a rule,
does not undertake a case which promises him no re’
numeration. He goes in for money; and there ought
to be some law which will enable the poor man *to get
Justice without financial ruin. There Is, at least, no
good reason why one set of professional men should
half starve while another gorges itself upon fees that
bring wealth and luxury. That fees are too large and
salaries too small has become a popular conviction,
which can only be removed by a reform In both direc
tions that shall bring literary and professional men
equivalent rewards.
To describe lawyers as gorging themselves
upon foes that bring wealth and luxury, is
good writing, but not good fact. The average
compensation of lawyers and physicians does
not rise beyond that of writers. There are very
rich lawyers; there are as well very rich editors.
Dr. Holland points to rich doctors; he can be
shown rich authors. There is no bar in any
profession to the acquisition of wealth; it is not
so much the road as he who works therein. The
truth, which Dr. Holland seems to have over
looked, and which would have come to him if ho
had widened his observation so as to include all
the workers of society, is, rhafc the ministry,
journalism, literature, teaching, have not been
sought-as avenues to wealth. The largest for
tunes ore gathered in trade, which is for mo ney
making simply. As human effort departs from
that path, and seeks the more glouous walks
through which it reaches the Good, the Beauti
ful, and the True, pecuniary considerations
become secondary. But such is the compensa
tory action of social forces that high excellence
in these self-forgetful pursuits is sure to bring
with it a high money reward, as well as the finer
prizes sought. Great authors, great editors,
groat artists, great poets, can command what
ever amount of money they need.
Benson F. Loosing has an illustrated sketch
“ PBOFEason mouse and the telegraph, ”
from which we quote some anecdotes of a brill
iant chapter in Morao's career, which hia won
derful invention has obscured. If he had never
connected his name with the magnetic telegraph
he would have been remembered as one of tno
greatest of American painters. From his boy
hood his great ambition was to he an artist. In
pursuance of his plans, he went to Europe to
visit Benjamin West, then enjoying the noon
tide glory of his reputation:
lloree made a carefully-finished drawing from a
small the Farnosc Hercules, as a test of his fit
ness for a place as a student in the Royal Academy,
With this he went to West, who examined the drawing
carefully, and handed it back saying, “ Very well, sir,
very well: go on and finish it,” ** It ts finished,” said
tho expectant student. “O. no,” said the President.
“ Look here, and here, and here,” pointing out many
unfinished places, which had escaped the undiscip
lined eye of the young artist. Morse quickly observed
the defects, spent a week in further perfecting his
drawing, and then tookit to West, with confidence that
it was above criticism. The President bestowed more
praise than before, and, with a pleasant smile, hand
ed it buck to Morse, saying, Very well in
deed? sir; go on and finish It.” “Is it not finished ?”
inquired tho almost discouraged student. u See. said
West, “ yon have not marked that muscle, nor the ar
ticulation of the finger-joints.” Three days more
were spent upon the drawing, when it was taken back
to the Implacable critic. “ Yery clever indeed,” said
West, “very clever; now go on and finish it.” “I
cannot finish it,” Morse replied, when the old man,
patting him on the shoulder, said, u Well, well. I've
tried you long enough. Now, eir, you’ve learned more
by this drawing than yon would have accomplished in
double the lime by a dozen half-finished beginnings.
It is not numerous drawings, but the character of one,
which makes the thorough draughtsman. Finish one
picture, sir, and you are a painter.
Morse heeded the sound advice. He studied with
Alls ton and observed his processes ; and from the lips
of West he heard the most salutary maxims. Encour
aged by both, as well as by the veteran Copley, he be
gan to paint a large picture for exhibition in the Royal
Academy, choosing for bis subject “ The Dying Her
cules,” Fallowing the practice of Allston (who was
then painting tne celebrated picture of *• The Dead
Man Restored to Life by Touching the Bones of Eli
jah ”}, he modelled his figure in clay, as the best
of the old painters did. It was first attempt in
the sculptor’s art and was successful. A cast was
made in plaster of Paris and taken to West, who was
delighted. He made many exclamations of sur
prise and satisfaction; and calling to him his son
Raphael, he pointed to the figure and said : ** Look
there, sir, I have always told you that any painter can
make & sculptor.”
ilorso won very high honors abroad for his
works of of art. The model we have mentioned
contended for the prize of a gold medal offered
by tLo Society of Arts for the beat original cast
of a single figure, and won it:
In the large room of the Adelpbl, in the presence of
British nobility, foreign ambassadors, and dialing
guished strangers, the Duke of Norfolk publicly pre
sented the medal to Morse, on the 13th of May, 1813.
At the same time his colossal painting, made from this
model, then on exhibition in the Royal Academy, woe
receiving unbounded praise from the critics, who
placed “ The Dying Hercules ” among the first twelve
pictures in a collection of almost two thousand. So
began, upon a firm foundation, tho real art-life of this
New England student.
Encouraged by this success, Morse determined to
conteuckfor tho highest premium offered by the Royal
Academy for the beat historical compositoin, tho de
cision to be made late in 1815. For that purpose he
produced bis “ Judgment of Jupiter,” in July of that
year. West assured him that it would take the prize,
but Morse was unable to comply with tho rales of the
Academy, which required tho victor to receive the
money in person. His father had summoned him
home, and filial love was stronger than the persuasions
of arooitlon. West and Fuseli both urged the Acade
my to make an exception in bis case, but it could not
bo done, and the young painter had to be contented
with tho assurance of tbe President afterwards, that
he would certainly Lavo won the prize (a gold medal
and $250 in gold) bad ho remained.
The closing scene of Professor Morse’s life
has a half pathetic, half humorous, association
with tbe great work of his life:
Just before his death, Professor Morse’s physicians,
uncertain as to the exact nature of bis disease, raised
him up and sounded his chest with finger tippings.
Tho Professor roused from the stupor in which he bad
been lying, when ono of the physicians said, “ This Is
tbe way ice telegraph.” Tho dying man comprehend
ed the point, and replied, *• Very good—very good.”
These were his last words.
In tho article on
“napoleon n., r
eon of Napoleon 1., and King of Borne, a Wan
dering Heir is added to the Napoleon family and
to tbe claimants for tbe French throne:
For years it has been universally believed that the
direct line of the 44 Little Corporal ” became extinct in
tho person of tbe unfortunate Prince, and, although
various rumors relative to a secret marriage were
prevalent at the time of his decease, they were gener
ally regarded os the creations of an idle brain. Events
which have subsequently transpired give these re
ports a semblance of truth, and, to render them still
more plausible, It is a well-known-fact that the late
Emperor of tho French spared neither expense
nor labor in forming a complete collection of the
correspondence and private papers of “ U fil* de
It appears, however, that those writings were not
tho only links which united tbe present with the past;
for, in the summer of 1871, an Individual, who bore
au extremely striking likeness to the Bonaparte fam
ily, made his appearance at Ischl, and was fined
by the District Court and expelled from the Austrian
dominions for havingmade an objectionable entry in
his “ wande&book”—a sort of Journeyman’s pass
port. He waa a tailor by trade, and, for several
! years previous to this occurrence, had been living at
Worsen, in tbe kingdom of Saxony, and also at
Stuttgardt under the name of Carl Onstavo Ludwig,
and in both of these places he had distinguished him
self by bis diligence, skill, and modesty. His intimate
acquaintances affirmed that, in spite of his bumble
occupation, be bad always asserted bis claim to the
name and title of Prince Joseph Eugene Napoleon
Bonaparte, and, according to his own account, it
would seem as if he was an issue of a secret marriage
of tho Duke of Rcicfcatadt with a Hungarian, countess.
He staled, when quite young, his mother waa indu
ced by Prince Mettarnicb to apprentice him to a tailor
in Wurzen named Ludwig, as a means of getting rid
of him, and In order to facilitate her second marriage in
Saxony. As a further proof of his origin, he declared
that there waa an author then living at Leipsic, but for
merly a Hungarian officer, who bad been a witness to
tbe marriage, and who would, if it ever became neces
sary for him to make known bis rank and title, sup
ply him with tho requisite documents in order to
compel the Countess to recognize his birth and parent
age. After leaving Stuttgardt, he travelled through
Germany, Switzerland, and a part of Austria, earning
his livelihood aa a tailor, maintaining bis claim to a
princely rank, but never attempting to obtain money
or credit by It, On returning to Stuttgardt, In No
vember of tbe same year, he found that bis conviction
and punishment bad been mentioned in the papers of
that place, and he accordingly published an explana
tion in tbe Burger Zeiiung, in which he affirmed that
he was not punished for fTitimmg his name and title,
his right to which the Court at Ischl bad in no wise
disputed, but merely for writing it of his' own accord
in his passport, before be had succeeded in establish
ing bis identity before a conrt of law. The reputed
Prince is still living, and tbe Crow,—one of theleadlng
newspapers of Germany,—in an article written at the
time,- states that not only does he bear a good charac
ter for his steadiness and general good conduct, but
he also produces a very favorable impression by his
In the Editorial Department, under tbs head
ing, “Home and Society,” tho Tictiou of the
extortions practiced in Eastern markets are
advised to club together and
An instance is given in which this was tried
with the most satisfactory results:
A gentleman living in one of our largo Eastern
cities, where a good table la always a heavy expense,
recently made an experiment which was certainly very
satisfactory. In connection with two or three friends,
he ordered a barrel of meat and game from a town
in Indiana. The provisions arrived In due time and
in excellent condition, and the following table will ex
hibil the comparative cost of the articles in the East
ern markets and in those of some of the older Western
KWkrn Pric't. Eagffrn Prieen .
6 do* quail* at $1.50 $9.00 jy.OO SIB.OO
2 doc prairie chick
ens at 4.20 8.40 0.00 lg.oo
5 turkeys, 42 Its, at. li 583 23 JJ.7C
36 Its venison at.... 25 4.00 30 4*Bo
68 Its beef (steak* and
roaits) at
Barrel. ....
15 10.20 23 17.00
Difference* la favor of Western market $24.13
The various articles were ail of the best quality and
carefully packed. The turkeys were fat and sound,
and came without heads and with the useless portion
of legs and wing cut off—thesa weighty appen
dages not being charged for. The beef, which
was tender and fat, came in three enormous roasts
and five grept steaks, neatly boned and skewered. The
meat and game was fresh, and in as good condition
aa it can be had in the markets of our great Eastern
cities. As to the saving of expense, it may bo said
that Eastern prices arc very often much higher *hm
those quoted, beef being often 33 cents per pound
instead of 25, and other things in proportion. A few
families, tired of the high prices asked in our large
cities, might readily club together and obtain from a
Western dealer excellent meats and game, and bove
them brought to their doors at a saving of one-third
the price charged in the Eastern city markets. Even
in our large city markets, co-operation of this kind,
by enabling families to purchase at wholesale, would
certainly be economical, and might result in other
One of the first articles to attract attention in
the Galaxy for March Is Thurlow Weed’s
It was In this way he first made Mr. Greeley’s
The exciting Presidential campaign of 3840 was in
augurated by Congress in 1837. The questions in issue
affected, or were supposed to affect, the general wel
fare most vitally. Prominent among these issues
were the tariff aud United States bank questions. The
discussion of those and other policies of the State and
National Governments rendered the publication of a
weekly campaign journal expedient, and the Whig
State Committee devolved upon me tne duty of select
ing an editor. 1 had for several months been favora
bly impressed with the Sew Yorker t a weekly journal
published in the city of New York, distinguished not
only by its judicious andinteresting selections, but re
markable for the extent and accuracy of its political
statistics. Although non-partisan. Its leanings and
sympathies could not be misunderstood. Impressed
with the idea that an editor who imparted so much in
terest to the columns of the Xew Yorker should, if
practicable, be induced to take charge of our new cam
paign paper, I went to New York, accompanied by Mr,
Lewis Benedict, Chairman of the State Committee,
with that intent. Repairing to the office of the Xeie
Yorker in Ann street, 1 found a young man with light
hair and eyes, fair but fresh complexion, working at a
case, who In reply to my inquiry informed me that be
was editor of the Xexc Yorker. Giving him my name,
1 made some inquiries in relation to the.patronage and
prospects of bi« paper, and briefly {explained
the object of my visit. During this conver
sation, which lasted ten minutes, Horace
Greeley stood leaning on his case, holding the com
posing-stick in his hand. I invited him to dine with
Mr. Benedict and myself at the City Hotel, leaving
him an interval of several hours to think over the
While seated at the dinner fable, the arrangements
for publishing the campaign paper were completed. It
was, at Mr. Greeley’s suggestion, to be called the Jti
/erxonian. He was to pass one or two days of each
week at Albany. In reply to my inquiry if be had a
family, he said, “ 1 have a wife, but she keeps school,
and is no hindrance to the enterprise.” On being
asked what compensation he desired, he replied that
he should be satisfied with whatever the Committee
thought bis services were worth, and that the amount
could be fixed at some future time. He seemed equally
surprised and gratified to have been thought of for the
duty, upon which be entered with alacrity; for the
first number of the Jejfertonian appeared very soon
after the idea was first broached to him. It did not,
of course. Interfere with the regularpubUcatloo of his
AVic Yorker .
During the continuance of the JetfertonSan Mr,
Greeley, while in Albany, was our guest, and ai
ways a welcome one. I became during that period
equally interested tn aud attached to him. He would
come up the river by the night boat, and usually reach
ed the house before sunrise, with the pockets of his
white overcoat stuffed with newspapers and periodi
cals. This gavs him an hour or two before breakfast
for reading and writing. On the occasion of bis first
visit, knowing that Mr. Greeley was an advocate for
Graham bread and vegetable diet, our first surprise
was to find him making a hearty breakfast of very sub
stantial food. And thenceforward we bad no occasion
to provide peculiar or exceptional dishes
for our visitor. Mr. Greeley, as novelists
say. was a “ good trencherman,” eating
with apparent unconsciousness and indifference what
ever was provided. But neither then nor in after
years was he ever, so far as my observation or informa
tion went, induced to touch or taste any stimulating
beverage. Liquors, wines, ales, cider, etc., were all
and always,quietly declined. He would pass them, if
be could, without making a remark or drawing atten
tion ; and, os far as 1 know or believe, his examples in
reference to temperance were ever in harmony with
his precepts.
When Mr. Greeley first entered the Evening Journal
office, instead of seating himself at tho table which bad
been prepared for him, be improvised a sort of shelf,
to which he transferred bis writing materials, where
he stood, with his arm raised almost as high as his
bead j and in this apparently most Inconvenient and
uncomfortable attitude be worked all day,
Although up to this period Mr. Greeley bad pub
lished a neutral journal, ho fell very rapidly into lino
os & Whig, espousing the principles of the party with
much zeal. He was especially gratified with the op
portunity of advocating the protective tariff policy.
Mr. Weed gives some letters of Mr. Greeley’s,
and some reminiscences of political matters that
have ceased to be of interest. We make an ex
tract from a letter written in IS4I, by Mr. Gree
ley, in answer to a condemnatory review of
Greeley’s Fourierism in the Albany Evening
Journal . He had been at first informed that
this came from Mr. Weed’s pen, bat afterwards
learned that it was written by a Mr. Lovoridgo:
Thai, considered as coming from yon, seemed liko
fhe correction of a schoolboy by bis master; from
Loveridge' I do think its impudence insufferable.
What docs be know-how much- did ho ever think—
about the necessity and practicability of elevating tho
condition of the laboring dosses 7 Let him work
twenty years as 1 havo done, and feel the hopelessness
of the great mass of laborers, the dullness of their
leisure hours (unless devoted to dissipation), and the
emptiness and barrenness of their minds before ho iW
tempts to lecture mo.
I assure you that the doctrines of Fourier—l mean
bis fundamental position with regard to tho econo
mics of association—have received tho assent of eozno
of tbe strongest and most practical minds of this city
and elsewhere. Clerk Garland, of tho United States
House; Genera) Klein, M. C. from Berks; G. A.
Worth, Cashier City Bank; Alderman Phoenix, and
many other sound men ore favorably impressed with it.
I think you take the wrong view of the political bear
ing of this matter, though 1 act without reference to
that. Hitherto all tho devotees of social reform of
any kind—all tho advocates of a ’higher destiny for
labor —all tbe combatants against unjust and false
social principles—ln short, all the social discontent
of tho country has been regularly repelled
from the Whig party and attracted to its
opposite. This forms a heavy dead-weight against
tl Tho first intimation of Mr. Greoley’a degiro
f to go before tbe people’ for a representative
office was received,” says Hr. Weed, “ in 1846,
when ho came to Albany, and in a hesitating
manner inquired if 1 thought he could bo nomi
nated in some of our strong \7hig counties as a
delegate to tho State Constitutional Convention,
adding tbat be thought he could be useful in
such a body.” Mr. Weed informed him that if
ho had spoken a little sooner he would have been
gratified. As* it was it was too late, though ap
plications were made to the conventions of two
or three counties.
On two or three subsequent occasions, Mr.
Greeley indicated a willingness to accept nomi
nations, but did not seem anxious. “If the
same strong passion for office,” says Mr.
Weed, “ existed then which subsequent
ly became apparent, I bad no knowl
edge or suspicion of it. I thought
that hia ambition and pride looked to tho estab
lishment of a widely-circulating and influential
journal, through tbe columns of which he
could render great and good service to the coun
try and the people.” He gives this account of
the dissolution of tho celebrated political firm of
Weed, Seward & Greeley:
In 1854 Mr. Greeley called on mo at tbe Astor House,
and asked if 1 did not think tbat the time and circum
stances were favorable to his nomination for Gover
nor? I replied that I did think the time and circum
stances favorable to his election. If nominated, but that
my friends bad lost the control of the State Conven
tion. This answer perplexed him, but a few words of
explanation made it quite dear. Admitting that be
bod brought the people up to the point of accepting a
temperance candidate for Governor, I remarked
that another aspirant had “ stolen his thun
der.” In Other Words, while ho bad
tbakea the temperance bush, Myron H.
Clark would catch the bird. In addition
to the fact that Mr. Clark bad become the temperance
candidate, I Informed Mr, Greeley that “Know-
Nothing ” or “ Choctaw ” lodgca had been secretly
organized throughout the State, by means of which
zoony delegates for Mr. Clark had been secured. Mr.
Greeley saw that, to use an expression then well un
derstood'the “slate” had been broken, and cheer
fully relinquished tbe idea of being nominated. But
a few days afterward Mr. Greeley came to Albany and
said in aa abrupt but not unfriendly way: “Is there
any objection to my running for Lieutenant Gov
ernor?” I replied a» promptly: “Certainly cot, if
on reflection you are willing to take the nomination.”
“ Why should I not be willing to take It 2 You
lay that X have many enemies. I know that.
and if I hey should all fall upon me and defeat
ray election, the office is not important and the party
would not be injured. I should rather like to try con
clusions with them.” I then reminded him of a cry
raised in the Philadelphia National Convention when
Abbott Lawrence, of Boston, was named for Vice Pres
ident to run with General Taylor for President, and
when a dozen men sprang to their feet and shouted
that it would not do to have “cotton at both ends of
the ticket.” Mr. Greeley laughed and skid, “ I sup
pose you mean that it wouldn’t do to have Maine Jaw
at both ends of our State ticket 7” After a little more
conversation Mr. Greeley became entirely satisfied
that a nomination for Lieutenant Governor was not do*
sizable, and left mo in good spirits.
1 went to tbo State Convention prepared to acquiesce
in the nomination of Kir. Clark for Governor, and
only caring that the other nominees should be so se
lected as to strengthen the ticket. No candidate for
Lieutenant Governor had hern designated. Many
delegates were anxious to ballast (he ticket by the
nomination of a candidate for Lieutenant Governor
who was not committed In favor of prohibitory or
Maine law legislation, and yet who would not be ob
noxious to temperance men. Several names were can- 1
vaased, but none - seemed to unite all interests until
that of the lato Henry J, Raymond was suggested.
That nomination wounded Mr. Greelev deeply. He
had cheerfully withdrawn bis own name, but lie could
not patiently submit to the nomination of his per
sonal, professional, and political rival. This was, I
have reason to believe, the entering wedge to final
alienation between us. Mr. Greeley not only held me
responsible for Mr, Raymond’s nomination, but sup.
posed that in my conversation with him the tnfenrian
to do so had been concealed. In that supposition,
however, be erred, for I had not thought of Mr. Ray
mond in that connection until his name was suggested
to me at Syracuse. But our relations grew less and
less cordial from that time until 1860, when he ap
peared m the National Republican Convention at Chi
cago zealously opposing tbo nomination of Governor
Seward, since which time we never met. We both
supported ilr. Lincoln warmly, but after his election
ami during tbu war collisions and antagonisms placed
a great gulf between us. Ha was radical, and X was
conservative. He was in favor of secession, and 1
against it. He was in favor of peace, while 1 urged a
vigorous prosecution of the war. But this is neither
the time nor the place to enter upon these questions.
So far as Mr. Greeley is concerned, they belong to the
dead past.
In “Wanderings,” Lady Blanche Murphy
who holds so wonderful a share, of political
power in tho counsels of tho Church of Borne:
Once or twice, when the guests were few, and very
early In the evening, the Cardinal Minister AntosclU
sat for half an hour in thi? pleasant and quiet retreat.
I saw him many times in other places under circum
stances of state and ceremonial; 1 heard of often
as besieged by impatient Ambassadors, curious tour
ists, and importunate admirers, and always one uni
form and most remarkable trait stamped bis character.
This was that unalterable courtesy and urbanity
which, in an Italian, is as rare aa the perfect control
of temper which it presupposes, and in this instance
confirms. He never seemed either hurried or an
noyed, and at tho same time no one ever fathomed
bis thought or surprised his confidence. A
“self-made man,” many of his colleagues, as
well as bis enemies, bore him little good-will,
even where they are forced to recognize his eminent
talent; and the “Peasant Cardinal,” as he was some
times called, was not seldom the subject of covert
sneers on the part of others of more exalted origin.
An instance of this antagonism became patent to the
world on tbe following occasion, with what motive I
do not know: An ordinance was passed by Cardinal
Antonclll, as Prime Minister, that whereas it bad
hitherto always been tbe privilege of Cardinals to claim
an audience with tbe Pope at any time, and at the
shortest notice, it should now be necessary for them to
go through the forms binding on other persons.and to
seek the interview through him. Tbe Sacred College
resented this, for, standing as it does in tbe place of
princes of the blood, the royal family of this spiritual
kingdom, it considered this privilege as a vested right.
Many of tbo Cardinals are by birth Roman Princes,
wbilo others belong to tbe highest nobility
of Italy, Spain, France, and Belgium. One of tbeir
body, a Roman, condensed his opposition into the fol
lowing brief and haughty sentence, as he insisted upon
obtaining tbo usual unceremonious audience, only a
day or two after the new ordinance had been passed.
An attendant apologized to him for making him wait
in tbe Papal anteroom, alleging the Cardinal Minister’s
new regulation.
“Tell the Prime Minister,” ho answered quickly,
“that the Cardinal Prince does not wait for leave to
enter his sovereign's presence at the hands of the Car
dinal! Peasant.” And he walked straight Into the
audience chamber. Notwithstanding such wordy
sparring, the harmony between the members
of the Sacred College was never seriously
broken on important matters, and all Rome was proud
to leave its affairs in the hands of a statesman who was
decidedly the Cavour of the Papacy. His personal ap
pearance Is familiar through hla photographs to every
one; his social demeanor is dignity and affability com
bined, and his greatest charm is a smile of manifold
expression and peculiar sweetness. His drees was
usually that styled at Rome the abbots costume, i.
silk stockings, buckled shoes, and a short coat. The
more ecclesiastical cassock, reaching to the feet aud
buttoned down the front, is the costume preferred, by
the present Pope and worn by most of the younger
Cardinals; the old ones like the courtly style of The
last century best, retaining as they.do all that intense
ly southern instinct that clings to old and welhwom
In “Life on the Plains "General Custer sub
mits the testimony he had promised to produce
from those high in authority, showing that
among those who had given the subject tho
most thoughtful attention the opinion was
unanimous in favor of the “abolition of tho
civil Indian Agents and licensed traders,” and
the transfer of tho Indian Bureau back to tho
War Department, where it originally belonged.
This testimony is composed of official corre
spondence, that cannot bo reproduced here; hut
we quote one passage illustrating how. under
tho present system pursued by the Interior De
partment, and the traders who control it, the
United States are supplying the Indians with
the very weapons that make them so danger
ous :
livery person at all familiar with the conduct of the
Indians knows (bat there is no plan or idea which thoy
study more persistently than that of accumulating
arms and ammunition, and in the successful execution
of this plan they have collected, and aro to-day col
lecting arms, and ammunition of the latest and most
approved pattern. This supply of anna and ammuni
tion is not obtained for purposes of hunting, for no
matter how bountifully the Indian may be supplied
with firearms, his favopHa and most successful mode
of killing the buffalo, his principal article of food, is
with the bow ana arrow. It is, at the some time, the
most economical mode, as the arrows, after being
lodged in the bodies of the buffalo, may bo recovered
unimpaired, and be used repeatedly. No Indian will
buy two guns!” If tha honorable Commis
sioner bad added the words, provided ho
steal them, his eutement would bo heart
ily concurred in. "From a knowledge of tho facta, I
venture the assertion that there is scarcely an Indian
on tho plains, no matter how fully armed *nd
equipped, but will gladly barter almost anything he
owns, of proper value, in exchange for aood arms and
ammunition. Even if bis personal wants In this re
spect are satisfied, the Indian is too shrewd at driving
a bargain to throw away ?ny opportunity of possessing
himself of anno or. ammunition, as among his com
rades he is aware that no other articles of trade com
mand tt,& prices that are paid for implements of war.
.4n Indian may not desire two guns for bis own uro,
but he will buy cr procure one gen and cat or
more revolvers as a part of bis equipment
for war, and there are few of the chiefs
and warriors of the plains who to-day arc
not tho possessors of at least one brcccb-load
log rifle or carbine, and from one to two revolvers.
This can, be vouched for by any officer who has been
brought In. contact' with the hostile Indians of late
years. Aa to the Indian not having proper means to
take bare of lus ammunition, experience has shown
that when bo goes Into action be carries a greater n um
ber of rounds of ammunition than do our soldiers,
and. In time of peace, he exercises far better care of his
supply than do our men. The army declared itself
almost unanimously against the Issue of arms to the
Indians, while tho traders, who were looking to the
profits, and others of the Indian Bureau, proclaimed
loudly in favor of tU&issuc, unlimited and unrestrained.
General Hancock, commanding at that time one of the
most important and extensive of the Indian Depart
ments, issued orders to bis subordinates throughout the
Indian country, similar to the order referred to of
General Cooke. The order simply required Post Com
manders and other officers td prevent the issue or
sole of arms and ammunition to any Indians of the
plains, As we were then engaged in hostilities with
nearly all the tribes, it would have been simply assist
ing our enemies not to adopt this course. A spon
taneous outcry came from the traders who were to bo
affected by this order—an outcry that did not coase
until it resounded in Washington. General Hancock
reported his action in tho matter to his next superior
officer, at that time Ueutenant-General Sherman. Gen
eral Sherman at once tent a letter to General Hancock,
emphatically approving the course of the Utter, anq
reiterating the order.
Celestial barber-pole \ Now vaults my thought,—
Now skirmish ’ncath my trusty scalp, uncaught,
Moat frisk conceits, and wild, unhaltered tropes,
That but more fierce cavort os my pen gropes
’Midst clumsy words and discommoding sense.
For pompous apoatrophlc utterance.
Could tby vast advertisement front the earth
TTnfsdingly, quick would zny soul give birth
To feverish hank’rings for my life to bo
One languid loaf, that I might ever sco
The heavenly promise which thou seem'st to show
To barbers* ill-shaved victims here below.
Who runs tby shop, that thus can paste each hue
Upon the eky—gigantic bill-board blue?
Communicate his mwa, and X will buy.
Forthwith, a tender trombone, soft ana shy.
And with its breathings I’ll tha ether twist,
And blow his praise afar,—cor e’er desist,
Until my friends, with love (and ears) suggest
That sweetest of brass rhapsodies—a rest.
Jobs McGovrui?.
The Kaiser’s Letter to CUsmarcEc*
An American girl at Cannstadt fiends na this
translation of the Emperor’s letter to Bismarck,
to correct the American and English impression
that he was dismissed in disgrace :
To Prince Von Bismarck:
Yon know with what a heavy heart I fulfilled
your wish by which I relieved you from the
duties of the public Ministry. But you know
also what mental snd bodily exertion was re
quired of yon daring the ten years in this situa
tion ; and 1 will, therefore, no longer hesitate
in granting to yon a relief. Ten very significant
years lie behind us since you answered the call
which placed yon at the head of the Prussian
Administration. Your advice lias, stop by step,
given to me the power to develop Prussia's
strength, and to anile Germany. Your n&mft
stands indelible in the Prussian and Germaa
annals, and the highest approbation is from all
aides rightly given to yon.
When I allow that von set aside the Prussian
Administration, which you guided with a hna
and steady hand, yet you shall remain in tha
continuation of the political tasks in the closest
connection with the Chancellor of the German
Empire and this Administration. And I, a* *
testimonial of my highest praise and never*
expiring gratitude, will invest von with the dia*
mond insignia of tho Order of the Black Eagle.
3lay the lightening of the active employment
insure your health, as you hope, my wish being
that you may live long. I dedicate to the father*
land, far and wide, yoor inestimable service.
Yours, truly devoted and thankful,
Koniq Wilhelm.
Br.nmr, I*l January, 1373.
A* May’s first morning rose In pride.
The village maiden, Minna, died.
Her friends—the kinsmen of her rac*—
Mourned round her a little space;
Then left her in her deatb-robe dressed.
With one white Uly on her breast.
Bnt when the hour of nlgbt was near.
And moonlight soft suffused the bier.
There came the Prince of all the land.
And, weeping, kissed her small, cold band ;
And brought a jewelled circlet rare.
To glimmer round the maiden’s hair.
And brought a pearl-lit etarto reet
Upou the crowned maiden’s breast.
Still bore her brow the moon’s soft ray ;
It tinged the lily whore it lay.
He east the circled gems aside—
“ God’s crown is beat, my queen, my bride 1 ”
He cast the pearls beneath his feel—
“ God’s Illy is thy breast-flower sweet I ”
Then, kneeling, wept wit h passionate p*<n.
Ami showered wild kisses down like rain.
And lingered till tbo moon sank low.
And all Its soft and smiling glow
Paled slowly from the pallid face.
And darkness rose around tho place—
Then left her in her death-robe dressed,
With no white lily on her breast.
Cause tick—Tho pendulum.
—A Wisconsin paper advaftises for dale "m
cow that gives milk live years old.”
—Soa Captains should be good-natured; it
would not be safe to have a can’t-ancher-ua
to command a ship.
—A lady wrote to her lover, who had become
insane, that “he had gone out of hia mind but
had never gone out of hors. '
—Among tbo saddest episodes in the late
storm in Minnesota was tho freezing -of th*
hands, nose, forehead, everything except tfa>
cheek, of a life insurance agent.
—A correspondent asks if Kaiser Wilhelm is
related to the Czar. From what we have hear<9
of His Majesty’s habits we should say he was %
cussin German.
—The editor of a Pennsylvania “patent in*
warder ” got off a smart thing last week. It wa<
a mustard plaster that ho eat down on just be*
for© retiring for the night.
Mike, will you come in and take a drink
Mike looked at the man for the apace of hall*
a minute, and then, rolling hia eyes
very softly said: “I t’ot it was an angel snpakhv
to mo.”
—A Michigan clergyman wrote to a lottery
agent: Ido not approve of lotteries; I regard!
them as no better than gambling schemes. Mjl
son bought ticket No. sin your drawing, but 11}
it drew anything don’t send the money to him—*
send It to me.” The clergyman will probably!
feel relieved to learn that the ticket didn't drawf
, —As an early morning train drew up at a sta
tion, a pleaaant-lookiug gentleman stepped out!
on the platform, and inhaling the fresh air, en
thusiastically observed to the guard, “ Isn't thiac
invigorating “ No. sir, it's Yonkers,” replied*
the conscientious employe.
—A gentleman favorably known in high circles
in Philadelphia, named Jacob Stone, was relating
to a Sabbath School his travels in the Holy Land*
and, among other things, told the scholars oft
the ascent of Mount Piagah. On the following)
Sunday the teacher asked, in the course of the*
lesson, who ascended Mount Plsgah. A littlar
urchin promptly cried out: “Moses, Elias, and
Jacob Stone.”
—The following conversation between twQ
clever lawyers was overheard: “How does youx}
client like it?” “Not overmuch; begins to com-
Elam of the expense.” “Mine is all rights
otmd to fight it out. Can we manage to get thq
jury to disagree again?” “Don’t know; wet
must work for it.” “You’ll got beat, of
in the end; but you'll appeal, of course.” “01
—A man whom Dr. Chalmers engaged to
■ manage a disorderly Sunday-school Kept bis
eyes wide open during praying, and, when ono
boy thrust a pin into another, he marched ua
the aialo. still praying, and cuffed that boy'a(
oars, and went back again, praying all the way*
After that ho was master of the situation, foe
the boys thought that & man who coaid watcb|
and pray like that could not be put down,
—Miss Kitty , daughter of Dr. , loveff
her father, and takes an interest in his profess
sion. The other day a lady friend called to ees
her, and asked how she was, and how she was
getting along. “Ob, pretty well,” answered
Miss Kitty, “pretty well; plenty of colds, some*
bronchitis, and a little typhus fever; but, an
father aaid yesterday, to make things lively
what we want is a nice little epidemic. t
—A group of young women are discussing thei
now minister; *“ What do you think of bis ser-.
mon? Good, wasn’t it?” “Oh, I was awfully
disappointed; it didn’t touch me in the least. M
never could abide that rery bright red hair.”
—A Danbury boy who reads tho papers went?
to hia father with a ropo in bia baud and toldj
that worthy that, if be did not give him 60 cents
to bay a two-blaaod jacknife, he would forth*
with hang himself. It wen the place of the old
man to say: “ Heaven forgive yon, my son, fon
the awful the 50 cents.” He
didn’t say it, however. He merely twined his
fingers in the young man’s tresses, and bnmpedf
his head against tho door-jam until the suicide
thought it was 4th of July night.
—A mine of Epsom salts has been discovered!
in Minnesota. The sanitary advantages of thiaf
mine to the State have an ancient verification it*
an epitaph taken from a tomb-stone in ChiidwaitJ'
cbmch-y&rd, England:
Hera lies me and my three daughters,
Brought here by using Seidiilz waters;
If we had stuck to Epsom salts
We wouldn't have been in these here vaults.
—Another clever gentleman has been deceived
by the hydrants. It was New Year’s, and be was
rejoicingundertho influence of about a thousand
drops of jov. He ran against a hydrant, whilo
homoward bound, working long longitudes. Ha
happened to mistake the hydrant for a colored!
boy. “’Sens© me, sonnie,” said be, patting tha
hydrant paternally. “ Didn’t ran yva down be
cause yon was black. Grow tip [hie] and be »
useful man [bic]. Imitate [hie] ay example.'*
And ho laid a quarter on its nozzle and. went oa
with a lighter heart and tho satisfaction that h«
had made one poor soul happy.
—The Professor of Natural Philosophy in s
certain college gave the class a problem to think,
over daring the night and answer the next dav_
The question was this: “If a hole were boredf
through the centre of the earth, from side la
side, and a ball were dropped into it, wbat mo
tions would the ball pass through, and hot*
would it come to a state of rost?°* The next
morning a fellow was called up on thm philo
sophical problem. “ What answer do you givs*
this question?” asked the Professor. “Well*
really,” said ho, “ I have not thought of tbq
main question, but of a preliminary one. Howf
are yon going to get that hole through ?”
—When a woman has a hen to drive into the
coop, she takes hold of her hoops with both
bands, and shakes them qnietly toward the de
linquent, and says: “ Shew! there.” Tha hen
takes one look at the object to convince herself
thafit’a a woman, and then stalks majestically
into tbo coop in perfect disgust of the sex. 4
man don’t do that wav. He goes out of doora
and says, “ It’s singular nobody in this house
can drive a ben but myself,” and, picking up a
stick of wood, hurls, it at the offending biped,
and observes, “ Get in there, yon thief.” Tho
ben immediately loses her reason and dashes to
the opposite end of the yard. The man straight
way dashes after her. She comes back again
with her head down, her wings out, and followed!
by an assortment of stove-wood, fruit-cans, and
coal-clinkers, with a much puffing and very mad
man in the rear. Then she skims up on tbo
stoop, and under the barn, and over a feaco or
two, and around tho house, and bock again to
the coop, all the while talking as only an ex
cited hen can talk, and all the while followed by
things convenient fox handling, and by a man
whose coat is oh the eawbuck, and whose hat is
on the ground, and whoso perspiration and pro
fanity appear to have no limit. By this tizna
°i h ® r 416118 k aTG come out to take a hand iu
the debate, and help dodge tho missiles—and
then the man says every hen on the place shall
bo sold in the morning, and puts on ids thing*
and goes down street, and tho woman dons bet
hoops, and has every one of those hens housed
and contented in two minutes, and tho only sound
heard on the premised is the hammering by ths
oldest boy, as he mends the broken pickets*-*
Danbury Neic*.

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