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 -