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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (April 2, 1875)
jS-J"' ,j,. j, "" i COLL. VAU CLEVK. ALBANY, ... OREGON. THE SROOKLTN DOMESTIC DKAMJL PROM A PXTJlITAJffCA.Ii STAXI - POINT. Fiom the Boston Gazette. Whatever may be the verdict, either I the jury or of the eourt now convened in Brooklyn or of the larger jury that is . made up of , the people of the nation, as to the degree of guilt to be allotted to the accused and accusing parties bow be- fore that tribunal, there can be, no donbt that there is already an impressivp lesson from ; the trial, , It is found in the de velopment of the state of society is which these parties lived" and moved. I Its at mosphere was 'sickly and feverish, and the language and actions that grew out of it were in the closest correspondence. As regards Mr. Beech er himself, if he escapes conviction of ' the oveijt act of criminality it is only to remain under imputations .still fatally damaging to his usefulness as a preacher and his- Charac ter as a man. He falls by his jwn let- ters, even taking the most charitable view of them. There is enough of abso lute and unmitigated " gush " in. these to ruin .his reputation as a guide or a , . teaclier for the souls of his f ellow -beings. His twaddle about ' true inwarSness" his nonsense ' if nbtbing worse) as re- grads . nest-hiding" bis contortions of spirit over what he eks us to believe were imaginary errors, his agonized wish for death, and the desperate state of mind that finds peacefulness in its pros pect, are not alone : worthy of a great teacher of ,'Christianitv they speak a soul deficient in the attribute of j manli ness. We ny forgive and pity:snch a man, but outside of Brooklyn it would be preposterous to ask anybody to accept him as a spiritual adviser. ' Nor; is this the worst. 5 There is a Quality of Idecep tion in his acts that are still, moid repre hensible. He tells that, on that last day of the dying; year in which the development of his difficulty ' with Mr. Tilton was reached, lie met Mr. Tilton and Mr. Moulton, and -was appalled by the revelation of the foul, conspiracy on their part against Lira ; yet two days later we find him writing that Theodore Tilton would have been a better man than, himself - under the circumstances, followed shortly after by an effusive letter to . Moulton, telling the latter that God had never raised up such a friend to man as he (Moulton) bad been to the writer ! Then succeeded that long series of efforts at deluding the public and concealing , the f acts-4-what-ever they were that . have . wearied the world in the recounting -since the case was opened. Guilty or innocent, could there be a more demoralizing spectacle of deception ? . , Even the " heathen' Moulton, with all the importance with -which these secrets invested him as the sole confidant of the most distinguished preacher of America, became disgusted at last under' Its continuance. - liOofctng at the subject with the eye of a shrewd man of the world, and knowing well the character of the Brooklyn congregation, be advises Beecher to tell-'; the whole story, and tells him he can stand under it. But the cowardice of Beecher over came his faith in himself, in his people,, and in his God, and - the deplorable drama of shifts and of' expedients to conceal the truth went on till the stories about the scandal became so much jji mat ter of general talk with the' public "that Dr. Leonard Bacon detei-mined to bring the machinery,, amid which, its parties were moving-with a crash about the ears of them all, and in so doing render de-, oeption no longer possible. . ',' j Mr. Tilton's case is somewhat differ ent. He is not a prof eased teacher of religion or of morals. If he has been also a public figure, it is on a much. less ambitious scale of influence, and with a greatly more limited following. He has bis own ideas in this connection, although bis sphere 'has' been that of an' apostle rather than of an' authority. But Mr. Tilton, too, is a Brooklynite. s He has to large degree the manners and the morals of the society in which he moves. He gushes, and, if he does not groan, he attitudinizes. ' He is a statue of Forgive ness in his one aspect,, and he is the im- , placable figure of; Nemesis in the other. - We are awaze that in bis position toward bis wife ' there is much that appeals to the kindly sympathy and toleration of the public. In condoning her alleged crime he is assuming a chivalrotls attitude toward an otherwise., defenseless woman.. He is standing .between her and a judg- , zaent of the world which, in the present state of society-, falls heaviest on those "whohave the least power to" resist and Teeover' from , ii. But , connected twitb fbis attitude, there is a mawkish senti rnentality that neutralizes to a great der jee its nobihty. With true Broo.Uyn- ' ite in" version of the ideas of morality,' he refuses to accept Iw as a sirmerr She'ia sot a" faDe.jrojijiiiii estimatiraal Ehe baa sfciU,the,wMtest.-eonl,he ever knew. She is an adulteress if ;we accept bis statement J and no ' virtuous waitnafa ' vsr became' Jti&&ttteii'-yti!Ebin& her fall share of culpability for the act. (She bas left her home and her family to take shelter with the friends of her 'paramour, snd she appears in open court; at his side to aid by her presence in the ruin of her bosband. Yet Mr'.. Tilton taries liis jpip pant repartees, with, MtBeecher's conn el by eulogies of her sairitHneas and! her purity. Mr. Tilton is either sincere in this or he is not.' In any; case be is still ' a Brooklynite. H he is telling the truth be is carrying out the ideas that have as sumed the place, of morality Jnxj. ihia ' church circle, and if he is not he is sim ply acting a part, and is: alike congenial in so doing with the peculiar state.of so ciety there existing ,, The appearance of the church itself upon the scene is equally characteristic i and suggestive. Its attempts at dramatic effects are detestable. A daily procession to the courtroom; an assignment of parts and of places among the spectators; a scenic display of , entrance and of exit; an attempt at floral adornment ghastly in its inappropriateness; a lawyer, fresh from the defense of the most conspicu ous r crimes of .the ; century against public morals, himself a member of the Plymouth congregation, the confidant and cormsel vof Mr." Beecher in the de fense; the' introduction of wonen to listen day after day to the disgusting de tails of the testimony; and, to crdwn all, the almost incredible intrusion of Mrs. Tilton upon the scene to hear; the re counting of her shame; surely there could not be anything in the remotest decree resembling this in any Christian community" outside of Brooklyi. We j need add no word of elaboration! to tins picture. . , . -. , ., : i . ; And all this is the fruit of Mr.sBeech- er's thirty years" preaching. These are the characters and this is the community that it has created. ! We do not i affirm, of course, that , there are not good men and good women in and of it. But may it not arouse reflection as to the effect of sensational sermonizing ? That Mr. Beecher lias said much that is good we do not deny. -. That there has been that in his preaching which has made many men better will not be questioned. But ,the great body of men and women have been drawn there to witness scenic ef fects,- to be delighted by dramatic points, in which the charm of oratory and of act ing was to entrance their senses. ' ' And now we have the outcome of it all. With the spectacle of Plymouth Church, and of that' Brooklyn; society in which it forms a part, before us, there is no re sisting the belief that its results have been greatly more for evil than for good. It has culminated in the most monstrous and deplorable scandal that the nation has ever known, in which, however the guilt or . the innocence , may be distrib uted, no one of the actors can begin to compensate for a tithe of the evil that has been wrought to society. And it has given to Brooklyn an unenviable identity as a city whose manners, whose morals, whose methods of life are a scoffing to the thoughtless and a source of mortifi cation and sorrow to the better class of men and women everywhere. , " NATURE'S BAROMETERS. Certain movements on the part of the animal creation, before a change . of weather, appear to indicate a reasoning faculty. ' Such seems to be the case with the common garden spider, which, on the approach of rainy, and .windy weather, will be found to shorten and strengthen the supporting guys of his web, lengthening the . some whta the storm is over. There is a popular super stition in England that it is unlucky for an angler to meet a single magpie ; but two of the Wrds are a good omen; The reason is that the birds foretell the com ing of coll or stormy weather ; and then, instead of their searching for food for their young in pairs, one will always re main on . the nest Seagulls predict storms by assembling on, the land, as they know the rain .will bring "earth worms and larvse to the surface. ' This, however, is merely a search for food, and is due to the same instinct which teaches the swallow to fly in . fine weather, and skim along the ground when foul is com ing. They simply follow the flies and gnats which" remain in the warm strata of the air. The different tribes of wad ing ..birds always migrate before rain, likewise to hunt for food ' " Many J birds foretell rain by warning cries and un easy actions swine will, carry ,hay and straw, to hiding places, oxen will lick themselves the wrong way of ' the i hair, sheep will bleat and skip about, crows will gather in crowds, crickets will sing more loudly, flies come into the house, frogs croak and change color to a dingier hue, dogs eat grass, and rooks soar like hawks. ' It is probable that many of these- actions are due to actual uneasi ness, similar to that which all who are troubled with corns or rheumatism ex perience before a storm, and are caused both by : Vhe variation in barometric, pres sure " and the changes in the electrical condition of the atmosphere. - ' i ' vr .PROFESSIONAL -INCOMES.! '-" Some one' has been guessing' at and, gossiping about the moneyed reward of well-known .professional., men. ..! Charles O'Conor, it is said, has a larger income front lis practice than any lawyer in America, ''the Jumel case alone bringing him a million and a , smarter in money. Six Boundeli Palmer, who was opposed to Evarts at Geneva, " makes 8150,000 a ye,Whicb"is 'more than Evarts' average receipts foy bis $ew York practice., f For defending Johnson, !' Evarts , received S10,000,';and it is "not thought that he wfflbepaifl a greater sum . for, worrying TiltonT Mr. Sergeant Ballantine, of the London bar, .who has gone , to . India to j defend 'the 'Guicowar of Bardorajn a prbseetition' for inuxder; gets $50,000 for tins 'Jcase'aione.' j Beach,' of ' TUton's ixmnseL is thought to bej' working for a contingent fee. s Jeremiah Black-is !said to troubl-himaelf more about his lease j than his fee, preferring to win and get 'othmgrt!an f to lose arid be laid 'uberal Iy."' jQreat actors are as well remunerated as great lawyers. Booth has made bis $12,000 . a month. Jefferson has even passed this sum hi the sme time. It is thought that in a season of forty 'weeks Clara, Morris will make $70,000, .-while Charlotte Cushman's lingering farewells are a kind of dramatic bonanza. ' Bciuci cault, between bia royalty as playwright and his skill as play-actor, is pocketing 2Q00 every week at Wallacks.'; Great physicians find millions in 'their .. heading art Jlott, Parker, i and Clarke, maliing as much as a hundred thousand dollars each in a year's practice.- ; Vkssbzhvasia stijl produces $40,000, 000 worth of lumber annually. : . II XJ1UA -V IIANTt. If not so eloquent'of feeling as eyes, nor so expressive xt temper as mouths, hands havej yet sufficient meaning of their own tbjrepay close observation, and to be token as some kind of evidence of the real nature of the' man to whom they belong. We do Tiot mean by this cheiromancy, or the pseudo-scientific art of reading fortunes as well as character by crossing j lines ad relative propor tions, soft pads here and hardened mus cles there, whether the little finger goes beyond or falls shorj of the last joint of the ring finger, and whether the; middle finger overtops all the others by a line in excess of the ordinary measurement, by which the learned in such matters assume to, see the past and ' future, hidden deeds and urrproved , circumstances. But we mean the hand in its physiological aspect as part of the whole body, and therefore as characteristic and expressive as the bull-neck of the gladiator or the loose lips of the "orator. (From the aimless, undirected movements of early infancy. to the trembling, automatic restlessness of age, " the manner ; of movement in hands has its own ilanguage. Ton see how those luckless people who- are des tined never to succeed in life are incapa ble of holding anything with a firm grip. They take? up things with the; tips of their fingers, and when they lay these down again they let them drop as if their own weight, rather j than replace, them firmly with conscious intention. They hold nothing grasped in the hollow of their hand, with the fingers closed tight ly around it ; all is simply picked up and held loosely dangling from the points,, as if the fingers were brooks, and those not stout ones, arid the palm had no part to play.. These graceful, useless- hands make a nice study of line, but they; show the most " unmistakable imbecility of character ; and to jthose who look for moral arid mental harmony in a picture, os well as for the geometrical grace of line, they are painfully contradictory and confusing. The spread fingers of affected women curved in and about like those of the Venus de Medici or when the little finger only is crooked and divergent or when all three fingers fly off from the fissrer and thumb with which an object in held these also kre silly pretenses at grace at the expensej of naturalness and usefulness, which by constant repetition in pictures help to the maintenance f false taste. The firm grasp and the quiet line are , both mor4 beautiful and more useful ; but thesb iieed not degenerate ito the rude grips which seizes a bubble as if it were a cannon-ball, nor the stiff ramrods . which ignpre the use of joints and seem as incapable of. separation as the fingers of an Egyptian statue. ; ;'- ! 1 ; ; ' jnumEJt Inxxx our. ' A murder committed three years ago, at Adriinople, has ately been brought to light under smgular circumstances, The victim was a ; Cretan trader, who come to seek his fortunes at Aclrianojile, bringing with him a capital of 800. In stead, . however, of j gaining -a fortune with this amount, it cost him Iris life, for it' tempted the keeper of a khan where he : lodged, named Tovantcho, to plan his assassination. ; Yovantcho, who was of a confiding nature, imparted this scheme to two intimate friends and to his servant, who readily entered into the spirit of the affair, j The Cretan trader was, ' therefore, invited to a supper, which was served j in the . Bulgarian school, where, having been hospitably plied with wine till he became drunk, he was garroted and strangled. His bodjy was then pitched into a well, and thus closed - the evening's ' entertainment. The murdered man had a son . who, strange to say, observing the . mysterious disappearance of his father, gave notice of the fact to the police ; but as is not uncommon in murder cases even in this country, even " the most active and intel ligent" officers of the force failed to dis cover the culprits. ' The matter was soon forgotten, and probably would have re mained forever buried in oblivion but that Tovantcho's servant the other day killed a man in a tavern, andwas arrested. For some time his master sent him daily a supply of luxuries not to be found in the prison bill of fare, but at last impru dently discontinued j this delicate atten tion. t The imprisoned servant grieved at his master's ingratitude, told to the vali the story of the murder in which he had borne 'an humble part. ; The well of the Bulgarian - cemetery. . was , immediately emptied and searched ; the bones and some of the clothing of the missing Cre tan trader were discovered. Yovantcho and. hia two friends were arrested ;! they are now on their trial, and some interest ing Tevidtations are expected "touching the fate of other persons besides the, trader who have at various times " mysteriously disappeared.- PaW Mall Gazette - ' ' '1 ' XEXXCAK MAIZ.XOADS. ; ! The'wprks of peace 'now happily en gage Mexico, and the first of these in na tional, jimportarioe ia railroads. There is now only about . 300; miles of railway in the country, the principal line being from Vera Cruz to the capital. This is now tc be prolonged northwestward to the Pacific, as the Central railroad and its construc tion is in the hands bf a British-Mexican coinpariy.j'lAt Ijeoiv , 280rijniles . from Mexico, the International railroad will branch off to the northeast for Texas. Within three months.' after the comple tion of the Central .to Leon, the (con struction of the latter is to begin at both ends- under the : English company, of which Edward . Lee' Plumb is the head. The International has a subsidy of 15, 000 a mile from the government, and must be completed within six yearfi, bu will receive' heavy premiums for 3very vaar of earlier completion . From i this side the distances are as follows v From Bockdale, tks present terminus of ' the International to Texas,' to Austin, 50 miles ; from Austin, via San Antonio, to Laredo, on the Bio Grande, 235 miles ; THE from the frontier to Leon, 600 miles ; from Leon to Mexico, 280 miles; whole distance toA be built, 1,165 miles.- 'lhe distance of St. Louis from the Mexican capital will be a little less ' than 2,000 miles, and of Chicago JS.dUU miles. Mxico has a Topulatiori of 225,000, Queretaro, 47,000 ; Leon, the junction, 100,000, and the International win pass through nine States with a present popu lation of 3,250,000. A SLASH AT SHAKESPEARE. Mr. George Wilkes has begun in his paper, the Spirit of the Times, a serial entitled " Shakespeare from an American Point of View, with the Baconian Theory Considered." The first installment oc cupies a page and a half, and the author announces that the work will run twelve or fifteen weeks. Mr. Wilkes proposes to find out from the sentiment . of his plays and his revealed history what man ner of Tnfin Shakespeare was. The open ing chapters condemn Shakespeare s aris tocratic tastes. Mr. Wilkes says on this point : ' " Dickens, who wrote mainly for the lowly ; Byron, who, though a ; noble, fought for liberty ; Cervantes, Junius, Eugene Sue, Le Sage, De Foe, (Walter Scott, Victor Hugo, Oliver Goldsmith and Scheherezerade the never-to-be-forgotten Scheherezerade,-who talked to a Prince fox a thousand and one nights in such sentiments as have made the literature of Arabia a hymn never forgot the hopes and joys . and distresses of the poor. Shakespeare alone of these elevated souls prefers to be the toady of the rich and noble, and seldom, if ever, permits the humble to escape him without a derisive jest or sneer. ; Shakes peare commenced life as a deer-stealer and a drunkard ; had a child born to him in less than six months after mar riage, and lived in London during bis theatrical career without his wife. He was so mean as to sue one man for a debt of 6, and another for 1 19a lOd, when he had an income of 1,000 a year to himself, and died finally at the age of fifty-two, from the effect of too much drink at dinner.' What we have now first upon our hands is the singular anomaly presented by the spec tacle of a genius of the life-giving order, born in poverty, and humbleness, never betraying one emotion for a loftier sphere, or exhibiting a single sympathy with the' down-trodden ; classes, whose degradations and miseries must have con stantly intruded upon his superior com prehension. . But the fog vanishes be fore the light of facts. We have abun dant evidence that Shakespeare was, in his personal way of life, a calculating, money-making, money-saving man, and the conclusion, from the circumstances of his business in London and Stratford, smst be that he suppressed his natural Sentiments . to a convenience of associa tion and a sense of interest. "His first patron, when he was a theatrical man ager, was the young Earl of Southamp ton, a nobleman of enormous .wealth, who, together with the Earls of Essex and Rutland, were constant visitors at his theater. , " Let not the rapt worshipers of Avon's bard, whose sacred ecstacy is thus ruddy broken in upon, suppose that I take especial pleasure in these material statis tics. ' Nothing can reduce Shakespeare from the supreme elevation which he holds in the "CTnited States as the poet of our race ; but we in America take no in terest in hira as a politician, and scarcely any as a moralist ; and, surely it ia wiser for us, who are not involved in any tangles of allegiance, to disenchant our selves of the spells woven by loyalty and doctrine, and treat this mighty mortal as a man. Perhaps the most curious and interesting 'problem which can thus be brought to our comprehension is- what amount of muck may mix with, and ' be instrumental in, the production of a flaming gem." A. HOXKET ATTACHE! &T XATS. The Fall Mall Gazette says : " While the question of vivisection of animals is under consideration, it would, to say the least, be only good taste for animals to refrain as far as possible from vivisecting each other. Some rats in the county of Durham appear, according to the Man chester Examiner, to have treated an unfortunate donkey the other day with unnecessary cruelty. The donkey, which belonged to a man named Newton, living near Shotley Bridge, was kept in an out house infested by rats. Hearing an un usual noise in the night,' Mr. Newton procured a lantern and entered the sta ble, when be was grieved and surprised to see a large number of rats clinging to the donkey, which was almost dead, the flesh on its back, from the neck to the tail, having been completely devoured.' The donkey could hardly have fared worse in the bands of surgeons, and if, as is to be hoped, it. recovers the injuries it has received, its owner will act wisely and mercifully by either 'destroying the rats or the donkey. It is evident that they cannot with, comfort to the latter continue to occupy the same stable." VEB.Y JTAPPJT. j Fay, writing to the Louisville Courier Journal from Washington, is reminded of a story about Gen. Sherman ; " Last winter he was making a call upon a foreign lady,, who had learned to say, in very plain English,' Vary happy, vary. Gen. Sherman had a fall Just as he as cended the steps of her residence. I As soon as the first greeting was over. Gen. Sherman told bow he bad hurt himself just outside -of ; the door. ;j The; Jady smiled sweetly, and graciously :Baid ; Vary happy, vary happy. j The luf soldier stared ana saia, f u n it, is tne woman a fool, or is she crazy V Vary happy, vary happy,' was the still smiling response to his last remark, f The Gen eral abruptly left, and the lady wondered why she had failed to interest him suffi ciently to induce hi to prolong his call. " THE SFIRIT OF DEVILTRY. ; . -. Ketnarks of lion. S. Cox at the Ceiebrattom, of the Birthday' of Iturrut by the Surma i CZubofWalUnaton, D. C. "" Tour President introduces me somewhat vaguely as one btlius biographers of Satan. ji had supposed my humble article was long smce , forgotten. It is said in Scripture that the devil and all his worts' shall perish. I vronder that all the works on the devil himself bav not per ished. But really, he is not so black after alL He has many winning ways. He is as much entitled to a biographer . aa a. witch to a cat. I can see that my friend, the President, takes a family and national pride in him. When tha article referred, to was printed it was for the Knickerbocker ; Magazine, and intended to glorify " Old Enick" in literature. How I omit ted Burns' "Auld Hornie? or "Clooties" lean scarcely tell. I was quite young then bad not mixed much in society or politics ; had not come to Congress, and, therefore, my. knowlege of deviltry was limited. Laughter. The longer I live the more I see of it and perhaps the more, we live the more we tolerate, the evil genius.- '' ,' ... '..Ij ' ' ' Indeed the Scotch devil, as organized by the genius of Burns, is a substitute to his better qualities. It seems at first blush to te sug gested by Milton's apostrophe to the Prince who ' led the embattled seraphim against Htaven ; but his is a better Satan, than the warrior of Milton.- He takes no delight in the squeeling sinner.: Old " Clootie" Las a nice send-oft for his noted name. Burns makes him rage, t be teure, like a roaring lion "tirling the kirks." He reproduces the wildness of the " lonely glen" and ruined castle amidst the ".windy winter nights He calls on the warlocks and. hags of the kirk-yards, the water kelpies of the ford, and the spunkies of the moss as his associates, until he brings his Satan, nunc pro tunc into Paradise incog. ' to give the infant iworld a ''ehog," and then makes him play practical joks on Job, until he fairly - boiled to pardon him by the benevolent universaliam of the last verse .- . - -- " rm wae to think upon yon den - . ' Ev'n for your sake," . ' f -. : which, out of the patois, means I don't want a hell, even to put the devil in. But this remarkably good-natured 1 devil of Burns has some peculiarities of character and conduct which remind one of the comic devils of the sacred drama of the middle ages. He is not the devil mentioned in; ancient or modern times. He is more Robert Burns than Robert le Diable. - He has as little of the Assyrian devil as of the Prometheus of iEscbylns. . But is he not comprehended in the universal genius of Goethe? Hephistopheles takes any shape. He is the standing Diabolos of the Greek, the adversary of Job, the serpent of Eden, the dragon of the Revelation, and always jolly.' I am not sure but that the infinite variety of the articles which Washington and its lobbies fur nish was anticipated by Goethe, if not by Burns. Where did not Mephistopheles lurk ?, Where do we not find that spirit of evil ? . Not the old theological animal, with horn and hoof, such as the excommunicated from kirk were possessed of, and such as old wives tell of ; but the sly devil, which dances in the eyes of beauty, gam bols in the polka and German and on the faro table, puts on the claw-hammer ef the courtier and the frock of the preacher, pores over the missals of the scholar and the " ayes and noes" of Congress. He is to be found in the imperial palace or poorest hovel. You may see this uni versal spirit in the bourses of speculation, 'and he eonoeals under the big ulster overcoat the forked lightnings of his unscrupulous intel lect ! The Bums devil is, . however, something kinder and mors human than this universal genius. In one poem Burns makes him an ex ciseman, and though not strictly denned, it may be said of him as some one said of Raphael's devil in. the Sistiue chapel. . if he is not the devil it is some d d thing or other." He would not have the devil here for a time, although he would not object to a "devil of a time." The truth is, we , each carry our devil around with us as a part of our personality. Why should not Burns-'; idea of incarnate ev0 be as jolly as himself, who was an exciseman ? And what pleasure could the exciseman take in the unnatural destruction or unjust distribution of Scotch whisky ? lean well imagine how in the regions of northern Scotland, where an En glishman (Shakespeare) located a "blasted heath," you know, and peopled its air with be ings of metaphysical entity, that a grand and terrific ideal of the spirit of evil should rise, like " Hecate," or the witches of "Macbeth," from the dreary mists of the Highlands. But Burns' devil, while he once rode on the blasts with ' "Tarn O'Shanter," had a more social way--as a government official. Laughter. He was not a conservator of fruits and flowers like you, Mr. President.' He was a simple government detective. He seized spirits, it is true, as Satan does, and he confiscated them to the best pur poses. He would have' been an invaluable aid under any administration. . I think he may now and then be detected in our "secret service." Great laughter. : , ' - But, ladies and gentlemen, the genius of Burns was not limited to creations of evil. It would have been more grateful to me this even ing to have 'discussed the genial and ethereal qualities of his song. How be sympathized with nature, its beauties, its attractions, its hu mility, and its heart! How sweetly flowed the current of his rhyme, as he gave new purple toj the heather and new blush , to the rose If How the hours winged their angel flight in the loved homes which, he peopled, with his- genius! Applause. --"ft- 'S - ;?--' ; - l With all the splendid galaxy of Scotch intellect, and wherever the Scotch mind goes as far as a t histle can fly, and as frequently as it can pro duce no such namo as that of Robert Burns has gone so far or been heralded so prodigally. and warmlr. If Watts in inventions, -Adam Smith in economy. Brougham in , eloquence, Knox In theology, Hume in history, . Sydney Smith-in wit, Jeffrey in enbeismv-and-Seotttn fiction were all combined in one effulgent star, it would not equal the splendors of Burns 1 When Burns wrote the couplet, ; - , v Rnk is but the guinea stamp, '. A man'i the ffoifd f or a' that," ?' v , he made his name foremost among those who have championed the natural nobilities of j man kind.: It expresses the "legal tender" of the Creator. From out of ' the natural " pockets," where the richest nuggets nestle, he drew the ingot, which no alloy of human error ever tar nished or -can ever destroy. A man's the gold for all that may . happen to him in,, the' accidents, fortunee, decorations and vicissitudes of : time. As such he Will be tested' in the furnace of affliction, and in the great assay, ' when th4 gen uine shall he separated from the cocEterfAi. I have referred to the intellect of Scotland, whose honors are recorded by Buckle. Where has not that : intellect gone ? Is It 'limited to any hemisphere ' or sphere ? , Is not living stone himself a Scotchman?' 'The President, Smith " He ia l"J : Mr. Cox I thought so. He went Into the very heart of Africa, When Burns sings that a man's' a man, know just what fee means. ; fLanghter.J He is surely a Scotchman. 1 1 know It, if by his slogan. then bvms broitaa.i Laughter. But it tba Scotch Livingstone oould. apdl, the interior of Arrfx. whv mav not' Campbell 7 mr tus- tinguiahed, friend , from . North Carolina ' (Mr. Waddell), who honors his State as well for his studies M for hia pohtical erninenoe (cheers who is vow present and blushing while . J , sneaky-made an interesune brochure to prove that the Welsh and Irish were in North Caro lina in the twelfth century. A fortiori, why should not tha "Campbells be found in Africa ? Laagbt. t ' , . i -.-. Is ccndiwio,t therefore, I rise from the Spirit of deviltry enshdned in the poetry of our bard' to '-tlioee other and more elevated creations wbi$i!hYe added a lui do,lia 'nd. n13 history luster to Cale- for the lyric muse. May your enjoyment of ttus anniversary be unalloyed by the presence of any other than that of . the blithe and bonnie spirit which makes that muse as mirthful as it is immortal. Ap plause. -: ' : A2f OVT-Of-3AXE BATTEMISO SAM New England, or that portion of it walledin at Williamstown, Mass., mourns over the death of a, noted " character " of the village. His name was j Abram Parsons, TOmmonly known' as; " Abe Bunter," and 'bis 'color was? black. " Bunter " , came from. Abe's butting propensities and powers. ' . He could and would have .been utilized as a battering ram'iri the "warfare bf the bid days. But he came into the world too late tor this use, and was really tteVer4good fbr any thing. He was born a slave in NAw York State, and when he was freed he grum bled because his new condition obliged him to- provide for Ins large and ac cumulating family. He could tlo but one kind of head-work, and thera was no demand for that, and he was too ilazy to use his hands or legs. He settled all his personal difficultiea by butting j against the stomachs of bis laes, and became so noted in this hue of attack that he began butting for wagers. L He moved . into Massachusetts and .made sport for the, villagers like a negro Samson. Thus he picked up pennies. He would! split; a heavy plank any day for a quarter by projecting his hard woolly head against it; or knock an adversary out of time by the, first lunge upon provocation. ",; One day some merry villagers assembled Jin one of the stores asked Abe if he would not like to have a cheese. Of course he wanted one. They agreed to give him a big cheese if he would smash it with hia head. Of course he would. Tile wags then put a grind-stone in a salt snick, and told him to go ahead. . He- went, ahead and promptly shivered ' the grind-stone. They promised him cheese, and they gave him a stone. f He was fully satisfied, however, when'they finally resolved that he, had fulfilled his part of the contract, and they kept their own. His perform ance melted their stony hearts, and they gave him to eat,- j ..One night a store was on fire, and the heavy door could not be broken open with any of the appliances at hand.' Abe 'Bunter" was passing and he opened it for the good of the cause and went his way. . He thus butted his way through life; furnished for many years a peculiar feature of the amuse j ments oi a iiew jngiana village, was tne head of a large family of Parsons, and passed to that narrow gate where putting will not avail. It is likely he got .in without difficulty, "for during the latter years of his life this bid battering ram had been coaxed into a mission chapel, and was not so hard-headed that the in fluences of religion could not soften him. TH" example may be a source of hope to others of this stiff-necked generation. " ! AFTER THE VERDICT. ,. The following account is given of the reception of the verdict of Not guilty" by Muybridge in bis trial for the murder of Harry Larkyns in California recently : At the sound of the last momentous words a convulsive gasp escaped the prisoner's lips, and he sank forward from his chair. The mental and nervous ten sion that had sustained him. for days of uncertain fate was removed in an instant, and he became as helpless as a new-born babe. Mr. Pendegast caught him in his arms and ' thus prevented his falling to the floor, but his body was limb as a wet cloth. His emotion became convulsive and frightful.. His eyes were glassy, his jaws set and his face livid. The veins of his hands and forehead swelled out like whipcord. He moaned and wept con vulsively, but'uttered no word of pain or rejoicing. Snob a display of overpower ing emotion, has seldom, if ever, been witnessed in a" court of justice.; The floodgates of feeling seemed suddenly to have been lifted and the long pent-up torrent of emotion to have burst upon the man' sweeping all before" it He rocked to and fro in bis chair. His face - wa8 absolutely horrifying in its contor- tions as convulsion succeeded convulsion.' The Judge discharged the jury and hastily left the court-room unable to bear the sight, and it became necessary to re call him subsequently to finish the pro ceedings. The clerk hid hia face in his handkerchief, while the prosecuting at torney .an some of Uej jurors hurried away to avoid the spectacle. Others gathered around to calm the prisoner, and all of them were moved to tears. ; ' The last reported" French suicide " is sprightly. t A young man went to a first class restaurant and ordered a big dinner for two, himself and . a lady. Ha said the lady .would come directly, Che) din ner hour passed and no lady came.! He ate the dinner for two with good relish, and drank several bottles of wine and enjoyed himself as much as a man , can when be is hungry and has a double meal spread - before him. But no ' ladyi ap peared. 5 When he1 bad made' "a clean sweep of the festive board, he asked the waiter 'for pen, Ink and paper, as be wished to write a letter. ; Soon after the report of a pistol was heard, and the waiter, entering the cabinet, found the young man lying on a' sofa bleeding from a bole between his eyes. The lady did not come, and he could not wait for her any longer. He died. He was a young man of good position in bis father's es tebli4kmnt,,but 0wt4ti64Jn a certain lady's heart, and so be made an end of his disappointment. . i. Gen. M. O. Cobb, the attorney, Jwho was shot some months aero bv Hannah ago Smythe, fox a supposed injury, has so far recovered as to be able to be on the streets of San Francisco again. A GATHERING STORM. The trial of John D. Lee, under arrest for alleged participation in the Mountain Meadow massacre of some twenty years ago, is appointed to take place at Beaver, Utah, in April next An effort will be made by the Mormons to get possession of the jury ; in which event conviction will be out of the question," though the proofs of Lee's guilt were piled mountain high. The lectures of Mrs. Stenhouse now being delivered in different parts of the Territory, - dwelling' with thrilling interest, it is said, upon many of the inci dents of the massacre, 'clearly, implicate some of the head men of the. Mormon Church in the bloody transaction. The effect of these . lectures 'sin to strengthen the determination, of the " Gentiles" to bring the murderers to justice, while they at the same time intensify Mormon hatred toward her, and, cause a sharpening of Mormon wits to avert the danger which threatens the prisoner.) Any testimony that will establish his guilt must neces sarily implicate . his aosooiatea, who were a numerous band ; and so many of these as still survive .are nervous in apprehen sion of the revelations that are -expected to be made. .-,';." A u A It has been asserted, that Leo will make a clean breast of the matter, unless the strain upon bis mind should drive him into insanity before r the triajl comes off, as he now exhibits strong symptoms of derangement. In bio raving he has al- . ready made several damaging disclosures The Salt Lake Tribune says that he tells . ' of fellow-conspirators and assassins being hidden in a cave in Southern Utah, armed . against the approach of officers, and defy ing arrest, who were the principal actors in the tragedy. He also declares that he . is to be made the scapegoat of the church,, and put forward; to receive the punish ment which should be shared by each and every one of his confederates. The strong point Upon which the Blofmons . rely for Lee's acquittal will be to proves an alibi. Excitement over, the subject of the trial is at fever heat, and daily in- -creasing. ' An ' honest jvfry isthe one thing most , desirable, and which, it is anticipated, it will be "difficult to pro cure. San Francisco Call. WHAT IS TJIEVSE? Pay no attention to slanders or gossip- -mongers. Keep straight In your course,, and let their backbitings die the death of ' neglect. What is the use of lying awake -at night, brooding over the remarks of some false friend, that runs through your brain like forked lightning ? -What's the use of fretting over a piece of gossip that has been set afloat to your -disadvantage by some meddlesome busy body who has more time than character? These things can't possibly injure you,., unless indeed you take notice of them, and in combating them give them character -and standing. If what is said about you is true, set yourself right at otice ; if it is false, let it go for what it will fetch. If a bee stings you would you go to the -. hive and destroy it ? Would not a thou sand come upon you ? It is wisdom to say little respecting the injuries you have received. We are - generally losers in the end if we stop to refute all bapk--. bitings and gossipings we may hear by the way. . They are annoying, it is true,, but not dangerous, so long as we do not stop to expostulate and scold. Our characters are formed and sustained by ourselves, and by our own actions and purposes, and not by others. Let us al ways bear in mind that " calumniators may usually be trusted to time and the slow but steady justice of public opinion." ; ' f . ,v"j' ; v, : J A TOOTHLESS PEOPLE. , Terrible times in s Warrcntos, Va.,. v are 'depicted by the Sentinel. '.It ap pears that a few weeks ago a dentist came to that town and advertised that -he would remove all of a persons teeth for $2 and insert a new set for $10, be sides giving six" months' credit. The Warrenton people are very fond of bargains, so, there was a rush for the dentist's at onoe. He was busy for two months pulling teeth, and at the end of that time half the people bad .'empty gums, and a bone-dust factory in the neighborhood doubled its workmen so as to grind up the teeth. Meanwhile the people were waiting for the ."dentist to fit them with new sets, but the abandoned scoundrel eloped -with the hotel-keeper's' wife, and now there are 2,000 of 3,000 people in town 'who can not eat anything tougher -thaat soup and farina. All the bntchers have failed, not a cracker has been sold for three weeks. One man, it is said,, whittled out a set of wooden teeth for -himself, but the first drink of whisky be took Cincinnati whisky--set them vin a. blazej and his ; funeral came off next -day. " The dentist will hear something to his advantage if, he goes back to "War rent(0n., j . , . Mb. Chables Fkancis Adams, J R. , has a knack of working np statistics that makes bis lecture on railroads as enter taining as it is instructive. ' He shows -by the official tables that if a person traveled as a passenger on Massachusetts railroads eight hundred miles a day every day of his life, he would, by a doctrine of ' jhat3ea,ibel70 years old before he would receive an injury in a railroad accident. Frencb' statistics .shared thai? stage coach traveling was at least fifty times as: dangerous as traveling by rail . The dan ger of being murdered in Massachusetts was greater by far than that of being killed in a railroad accident: In 1873 the rail- out killing one ; in the same year alone five persons were killed by tumbling down stairs, seven by falling out 6f win dows, .In tfacC Mr. Adams' figures seem to prove that there is not a much safer place of refuge in the world than a Massachusetts railway. The tomb of Bachel, in Pere la Chaise,. Paris, is a very small but beautiful Greek ohapeL -