"From my home, a thousand miles to the westward, in the great valley of the Mississippi, I come at your bidding to bear part in the exercises of this day. Not as a stranger, an alien to your blood, but as your countryman, your fellow-citizen, I gladly lift my voice in this great assemblage. And when were the words, 'fellow-citizens,' of deeper significance as suggestive of a more glorious past then to-day, as we gather upon this hallowed spot to commemorate one of the grandest events of which history has any record?

"The magical words, 'fellow-citizens,' never fail to touch a responsive chord in the patriotic heart. Was it the gifted Prentiss who at a critical moment of our history exclaimed, 'For whether upon the Sabine or the St. Johns; standing in the shadow of Bunker Hill, or amid the ruins of Jamestown; near the great northern chain of lakes, or within the sound of the Father of Waters, flowing unvexed to the sea; in the crowded mart of the great metropolis, or upon the western verge of the continent, where the restless tide of emigration is stayed only by the ocean—everywhere upon this broad domain, thank God, I can still say, "fellow-citizens"'?

"And truly, an Illinoisan is no stranger within the confines of 'the Old Dominion.' You have not forgotten, we cannot forget, that the territory now embraced in five magnificent commonwealths bordering upon the Ohio and the Mississippi, was at a crucial period of our history the generous gift of Virginia to the general Government,—a gift that in splendid statesmanship and in far-reaching consequence has no counterpart; one which at the pivotal moment made possible the ratification of the Articles of Confederation—the sure forecast of 'the more perfect Union' yet to follow. Illinois, the greatest of the commonwealths to which I have alluded, can never forget that it was a Virginian, George Rogers Clark, who, in the darkest days of the Revolution, led the expedition—'worthy of mention,' as was said by John Randolph, 'with that of Hannibal in Italy,'—by which the ancient capital, Kaskaskia, was captured, the British flag deposed, and Illinois taken possession of in the name of the commonwealth whose Governor, Patrick Henry, had authorized the masterful conquest. Nor can it be forgotten that the deed of cession by which Illinois became part and parcel of the general Government, bears—as commissioners upon the part of Virginia—the honored names of Arthur Lee, James Monroe, and Thomas Jefferson. Is it to be wondered at, that a magnificent Illinois building adorns the grounds of the Jamestown Exposition,—and that Illinois hearts everywhere beat in unison with yours in the celebration of one of the epoch-marking days of all the ages?

"The time is propitious for setting history aright. This exposition will not have been in vain if the fact be crystallized into history yet to be written, that the first settlement by English-speaking people—just three centuries ago—upon this continent, was at Jamestown. And that here self-government—in its crude form but none the less self-government—had its historical beginning. Truly has it been said by an eminent writer of your own State, that prior to December, 1620, 'the colony of Virginia had become so firmly established and self-government in precisely the same form which existed up to the Revolution throughout the English colonies had taken such firm root thereon, that it was beginning to affect not only the people but the Government of Great Britain.' In the old church at Jamestown, on July 30, 1619, was held the first legislative assembly of the New World—the historical House of Burgesses. It consisted of twenty-two members, and its constituencies were the several plantations of the colony. A speaker was elected, the session opened with prayer, and the oath of supremacy duly taken. The Governor and Council occupied the front seats, and the members of the body, in accordance with the custom of the British Parliament, wore their hats during the session.

"This General Assembly convened in response to a summons issued by Sir George Yeardley, the recently appointed Governor of the colony. Hitherto the colony had been governed by the London Council; the real life of Virginia dates from the arrival of Yeardley, bringing with him from England 'commissions and instructions for the better establishing of a commonwealth.'

"The centuries roll back, and before us, in solemn session, is the first assembly upon this continent of the chosen representatives of the people. It were impossible to overstate its deep import to the struggling colony, or its far-reaching consequence to States yet unborn. In this little assemblage of twenty-two burgesses, the Legislatures of nearly fifty commonwealths to-day and of the Congress with its representatives from all the States of 'an indestructible union' find their historical beginning. The words of Bancroft in this connection are worthy of remembrance: 'A perpetual interest attaches to this first elective body that ever assembled in the Western world, representing the people of Virginia and making laws for their government more than a year before the Mayflower with the Pilgrims left the harbor of Southampton, and while Virginia was still the only British colony on the continent of America.'

"It is to us to-day a matter of profound gratitude that these the earliest American lawgivers were eminently worthy their high vocation. While confounding, in some degree, the separate functions of government, as abstractly defined at a later day by Montesquieu, and eventually put in concrete form in our fundamental laws, State and Federal—it is none the less true that these first legislators clearly discerned their inherent rights as a part of the English-speaking race. More important still, a perusal of the brief records they have left, impresses the conviction that they were no strangers to the underlying fact that the people are the true source of political power, the evidence whereof is to be found in the scant records of their proceedings—a priceless heritage of all future generations. And first—and fundamental in all legislative assemblies—they asserted the absolute right to determine as to the election and qualification of members. Grants of land were asked, not only for the planters, but for their wives, 'as equally important parts of the colony.' It was wisely provided that of the natives 'the most towardly boys in wit and the graces' should be educated and set apart to the work of converting the Indians to the Christian religion; stringent penalties were attached to idleness, gambling, and drunkenness; excess in apparel was prohibited by heavy taxation; encouragement was given to agriculture in all its known forms; while conceding 'the commission of privileges' brought over by the new Governor as their fundamental law, yet with the liberty-guarding instinct of their race they kept the way open for seeking redress, 'in case they should find aught not perfectly squaring with the state of the colony.' No less important were the enactments regulating the dealings of the colonists with the Indians. Yet to be mentioned, and of transcendent importance, was the claim of the burgesses 'to allow or disallow,' at their own good pleasure, all orders of the court of the London Company. And deeply significant was the declaration of these representatives of three centuries ago, that their enactments were instantly to be put in force, without waiting for their ratification in England. And not to be forgotten is the stupendous fact that while the battle with the untamed forces of nature was yet waging, and conflict with savage foe of constant recurrence, these legislators provided for the maintenance of public worship, and took the initial steps for the establishment of an institution of learning. It is not too much to say that the hour that witnessed these enactments witnessed the triumph of the popular over the court party; in no unimportant sense, the first triumph of the American colonists over kingly prerogative. Looking through the mists of the mighty past, Mr. Speaker, to the House of Burgesses, over which your first predecessor presided, would it be out of place to apply to that assemblage the historic words spoken of one of a later period: 'Nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand'?

"Did the occasion permit, it would be of wondrous interest to linger for a time with these, the earliest colonies in this, the cradle of American civilization; to know something of their daily life, their hopes and ambitions, their struggles and triumphs; something of their ceaseless vigil and of the perils that environed them; to recall stirring incidents and heroic achievements; to catch a gleam of a spirit of self-sacrifice and devotion which in all the annals of men scarcely finds a parallel. It would be of curious interest to watch the parade and pomp of governors and councils of royal appointment in attempted representation of a pageantry familiar to the Old World, but which was to have no permanent abiding place in the New. Governors and their subordinates—though bearing the royal commission, yet in rare instances to be classed only as bad or indifferent—pass in long procession before us into the dim shadows. But out of the mists of this long past, two figures emerge that have for us an abiding interest, John Smith and Pocahontas—names that have place not alone in romance and song, but upon the pages of veritable history.

"Colonial governors strutted their brief hour upon the stage and have long passed to oblivion; but Smith, the intrepid soldier, the ever-present friend and counsellor of the early colonists, their stalwart protector—alike against the bullet of the savage and the mandate of official power—will not pass from remembrance so long as heroic deeds are counted worthy of enduring record among men.

"With dark background of rude cabin and wigwam, of scantily appointed plantation, and of far-stretching forest—with its mysterious voices and manifold perils—there passes before us the lovely form of the beautiful Indian maiden, the daughter and pride of the renowned native chieftain. So long as courage and fidelity arouse sympathy and admiration, so long will the thrilling legend of Pocahontas touch responsive chords in human hearts. Its glamour is upon the early pages of colonial history; her witchery lingers upon stream and forest, and the firm earth upon which we tread seems to have been hallowed by her footsteps.

"A name that sheds lustre upon the earliest pages of our Colonial history is that of Sir Edwin Sandys. Under his courageous leadership, what was known as the Virginia or Liberal party in the London Company obtained a signal triumph over that of the court. The result was the formal grant to the colony guaranteeing free government by written charter. Its declared purpose was to secure 'the greatest comfort and benefit to the people and the prevention of injustice, grievances, and oppression.' It provided for full legislative authority in the Assembly, and was with some modifications the model of the systems subsequently introduced into the other English colonies.

"By this charter, representative government and trial by jury became recognized rights in the New World. Upon this charter, as has been truly said, 'Virginia erected the superstructure of her liberties.'

"The coming of this charter marked an epoch in the history of the Jamestown colony, and set the pace for English-speaking settlements yet in the future.

"It was in very truth the first step in the direction of the establishment of the great Republic which was to be the enduring beacon-light of self-governing people in all future ages.

"To a full appreciation of the supreme significance of the mighty event we to-day celebrate and its results—now constituting so inspiring a chapter of history—some account must be taken of conditions then existing in the mother country. While obtaining the guarantee of a large measure of self-government for the New World, Sir Edwin Sandys and his co-patriots were unable to secure that which even savored of liberal administration in the Old. James—the first of the Stuart Dynasty—was upon the English throne. In narrow, selfish state-craft his is possibly in the long list of sovereigns without a rival. The exercise and maintenance of royal prerogative was with him the 'be all and end all' of government, and, abetted by the sycophants about him, he unwittingly laid the train of inexorable events that were to culminate in the execution of one and the banishment of another of his line. His claim was that of absolute power, and during a reign of twenty-two years—extending from the death of Queen Elizabeth to the year 1625—he was the unrelenting foe of whatever pertained to freedom in religion or in government. His apparent indifference to the execution of his mother—the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots—and his condemnation of the illustrious Sir Walter Raleigh to the scaffold, are alone sufficient to render the memory of this monarch forever infamous. It is a marvel, indeed, that with James the First upon the throne, and popular freedom in such a low state throughout his immediate realm, that so large a measure of liberty should have been conceded to the distant colony. The achievement is the enduring evidence of unsurpassed courage in the men in whose immediate keeping were the early fortunes of the Virginia colony, and sheds unfading lustre upon their memories.

"Nor can it be forgotten that from the masterful hour that witnessed the assembling of the first House of Burgesses until the abdication of James the Second, the welfare of the Virginia colony was in large measure in the iron grasp of stern antagonists to all that pertained to liberty of conscience and to popular rule. Whatever there was of progress during the seventy years—barring the brief period of the Commonwealth—that immediately preceded the historic English Revolution, and the crowning of William and Mary, was despite the untiring hostility of the Stuart Dynasty. During this period the lives of Englishmen at home were as the dust in the balance. It witnessed the very heyday of the infamous Star Chamber. It was of Strafford, the bloody instrument (though wearing judicial ermine) of Charles the First, that Macaulay said: 'If justice, in the whole range of its wide armory, contained one weapon which could pierce him, that weapon his pursuers were bound, before God and man, to employ.'

"And for all time, the Stuart Dynasty itself remains impaled by the pen of the same master:

"'Then came those days never to be recalled without a blush—the days of servitude without loyalty, and sensuality without love, of dwarfish talents and gigantic vices, the paradise of cold hearts and narrow minds, the golden age of the coward, the bigot, and the slave. The principles of liberty were the scoff of every grinning courtier, and the anathema maranatha of every fawning dean. In every high place worship was paid to Charles and James—Belial and Moloch,—and England propitiated those obscene and cruel idols with the blood of her best and bravest children. Crime succeeded to crime and disgrace to disgrace, until the race, accursed of God and man, was a second time driven forth to wander on the face of the earth, and to be a byword and a shaking of the head to the nations.'

"It is our pleasing task to turn now from the dark annals of our English forebears to the stupendous events of which that we to-day celebrate in the historical forecast. With the passing years, a continuing tide of emigration was setting in from the Old to the New World. Additional settlements had sprung into being, and the Plantation in its distinctive sense had given way to the Colony, to be succeeded yet later by the State. The glory of Jamestown had measurably departed, and to Williamsburg, and yet later to the now splendid city upon the James, had been transferred the seat of Virginia authority. New England, despite natural obstacles and constant peril, was surely working out her large place in history. Puritan, Quaker, Dutchman, Cavalier, Scotch-Irish, and Huguenot —'building better than they knew'—had established permanent habitations from Plymouth Rock to Savannah. Brave men from the early fringe of settlements upon the Atlantic—regardless of obstacle and danger—had pushed their way westward, and laid the sure foundations of future commonwealths. From New Hampshire to Georgia, thirteen English-speaking colonies, with a population aggregating near two millions, had attained to a large measure of the dignity of distinctive States. Their allegiance, meanwhile, to the mother country had been unfaltering, and in her fierce struggle with France for the mastery of the continent, America had sealed her loyalty with the best blood of her sons.

"The successors to the first House of Burgesses had learned well the lessons gleaned from the scant pages of their earliest history. Attempts to tax the unrepresented colonies soon encountered concerted hostility. 'No taxation without representation' became the universal slogan. The words spoken in the British Parliament by Barre—worthy comrade of the gallant Wolfe on the Heights of Abraham—near a century and a half after the event we now celebrate, will quicken the pulse of all coming generations of American patriots. Said he:

"'Your oppressions planted them in America. They fled from your tyranny to a then uncultivated, unhospitable country where they exposed themselves to almost all the hardships to which human nature is liable, among others to the cruelties of a savage foe; they grew by your neglect of them. As soon as you began to care for them, that care was exercised in sending persons to rule them, to spy out their liberties, to misrepresent their actions and to prey upon them; men whose behavior on many occasions has caused the blood of those sons of liberty to recoil within them; men promoted to the highest seats of justice, some who, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to a foreign country, to escape being brought to the bar of a court of justice in their own. The colonists have nobly taken up arms in your defence; have asserted a valor amid their constant and laborious industry for the defence of a country whose frontier was drenched in blood. And, believe me—remember, I warn you—the same spirit of freedom which actuated that people at first will accompany them still.'

"And how prophetic now seem the words of Burke in the same great debate:

"'There is America, which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men and uncouth manners, yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world.'

"Standing at his hour almost within hailing distance of the spot that witnessed the surrender of Cornwallis and the termination of the War of the Revolution, it would be passing strange if we should fail to catch something of the inspiration of the impassioned words of Barre and of Burke, and their wondrous associations.

"It is said that in Venice there is sacredly preserved a letter written by Columbus a few hours before he sailed from Palos. With reverent expression of trust in God—humbly but with unfaltering faith—he spoke of his past voyage to 'that famous land.' His dream while a suppliant in the outer chambers of kings, and while keeping lonely vigil upon the deep, was the discovery of a new pathway to the Indies. Yet who can doubt that to his prophetic soul was even then fore-shadowed something of 'that famous land' with the warp and woof of whose history, tradition, and song his name and fame are linked for all time. Can it not truly be said of the members of the first House of Burgesses, as was said of Columbus and his compeers, 'They were pioneers in the march to independence—precursors in the only progress of freedom which was to have no backward steps?' They only 'opened the gates' and lo! there came in the builders of a new and mighty nation.

"Had it been given to the Virginia—the American—legislators whose memories we honor this day, 'to look into the seeds of time,' what mighty events, with the rolling years and centuries, would have passed before their visions. They would have seen the colony they had planted in the wilderness, day by day strengthening its cords, enlarging its borders, and with firm tread advancing steadily to recognized place among the nations. They would have beheld the savage foe—giving way before the inexorable advance of the hated 'pale face'—sadly retreating toward the ever-receding western verge of civilization. It would have been theirs to witness the symbols of French and Spanish authority disappear forever from mainland and island of the New World. Following the sun a thousand miles toward his setting, their eyes would have been gladdened by the great river flowing unvexed from northern lake to southern sea through a mighty realm that knew no allegiance other than to the government that here had its feeble beginning. They would—near a century and a half later than the meeting of the first House of Burgesses—have beheld their descendants listening in rapt attention to the impassioned denunciation by Patrick Henry of the tyranny of the royal successor of James the First; the thirteen colonies arming for the seven years' struggle with the most powerful of nations; the presentation, by a Virginian, in the wondrous assemblage at Philadelphia of the Declaration of Independence; under the matchless leadership of a Virginian yet more illustrious than Jefferson, the Colonial army, with decimated ranks and tattered standards, would have passed in review—all past suffering, sacrifice, humiliation, and defeat forgotten in the hour of splendid triumph. Yet later, and in the great convention over which Washington presided, and in which Madison was the chief factor, they would have witnessed the deathless principles of the historic Declaration crystallized into the Federal compact, which was destined forever to hold States and people in fraternal union. They would have seen a gallant people of the Old World—catching inspiration from the New—casting off the oppression of centuries and, through baptism of blood, fashioning a Republic upon that whose liberties they had so signally aided to establish. Yet later, and not France alone, but Mexico and States extending far to the southward, substituting for monarchical rule that of the people under written Constitutions modeled after that of the great American Republic. And yet more marvellous, in Great Britain the divine right of kings an exploded dogma; the royal successor to the Stuarts and George the Third only a ceremonial figurehead in government; the House of Lords in its death struggle; all real political power centred in the Commons, and England—though still under the guise of monarchy—essentially a republic.

"And what a grand factor Virginia has been in all that pertains to human government in this Western world during the past three centuries. From the pen of one of her illustrious sons, George Mason, came the 'Bill of Rights'—now in its essentials embedded by the early amendments into our Federal Constitution; from that of another, not alone the great Declaration, but the statutes securing for his own State religious freedom, and the abolition of primogeniture—the detested legacy of British ancestors. His sword returned to its scabbard with the achievement of the independence of the colonies, and the mission of Washington was yet but half accomplished. To garner up the fruits of successful revolution by ensuring stable government was the task demanding the loftiest statesmanship. The five years immediately succeeding our first treaty of peace with Great Britain have been truly defined, 'our period of greatest peril.' It was fortunate, indeed, that Washington was called to preside over the historic convention of '87, and that his spirit—a yearning for an indissoluble union of the States— permeated all its deliberations. Fortunate, indeed, that in its councils was his colleague and friend, the constructive statesman, James Madison. Inseparably associated for all time with the formulation and interpretation of the great covenant are the names of two illustrious Virginians—for all the ages illustrious Americans —Madison, the father, and Marshall, the expounder of the Constitution.

"It remained to another son of this first commonwealth, from the high place to which he had been chosen, to enunciate in trenchant words, at a crucial moment, a national policy which, under the designation of 'the Monroe doctrine,' has been the common faith of three generations of his countrymen and is to remain the enduring bar to the establishment of monarchial government upon this western hemisphere.

"Four decades later, at the striking of the hour that noted the inevitable 'breaking with the past,' it remained to still another illustrious successor of Jefferson—alike of Virginian ancestry, and born within her original domain—by authoritative proclamation to liberate a race, and thereby, for all time, to give enlarged and grander meaning to our imperishable declaration of human rights.

"My countrymen, the little settlement planted just three centuries ago near the spot upon which we have to-day assembled has under divine guidance grown into a mighty nation. Eighty millions of people, proud of local traditions and achievements, yet looking beyond the mere confines of their distinctive commonwealths, find their chief glory in being citizens of the great Republic. The mantle of peace is over our own land, and our accredited representatives in the world's conference, at this auspicious hour, are outlining a policy that looks to the establishment of enduring peace among all the nations. To-day, inspired by the sublime lessons of the event we celebrate and with hearts of gratitude to God for all he hath vouchsafed to our fathers and to us in the past, let us take courage, and turn our faces hopefully, reverently, trustingly to the future."

XLIII A NEW DAY ADDED TO THE CALENDAR

THE HIGH CHARACTER OF STERLING MORTON AS A MAN AND A PUBLIC SERVANT —HONORED BY CLEVELAND—ORIGINATOR OF ARBOR DAY.

I recall with pleasure years of close personal friendship with J. Sterling Morton. He was a gentleman of lofty character and recognized ability. Much of his life was given to the public service. As Secretary of Agriculture he was in close touch with President Cleveland during his last official term.

At the dedication of the monument erected to his memory at his home, Nebraska City, October 28, 1905, I spoke as follows:

"I count it high privilege to speak a few words upon an occasion so fraught with interest to this State, and to the entire country. I gladly bear my humble tribute to the man whom I honored in life, and whose memory I cherish. A manlier man than Sterling Morton, one more thoughtful, kind, considerate, self-reliant, hopeful, I have not known. Truly—

'A man he seemed, of cheerful yesterdays, And confident to-morrows.'

Of few men could it more truly be said, 'He took counsel ever of his courage—never of his fears.' With firm convictions upon pending vital issues, he did not shrink from the conflict. His antagonist he met in the open. In the words of Lord Brougham, 'His weapons were ever those of the warrior—never of the assassin.'

"This, is indeed no ordinary occasion. Here and now, we unveil a monument erected in honor of the memory of one who, alike in private life and in public station, illustrated the noblest characteristics of the American citizen. Something of his life and achievements we have heard with profound interest from the lips of the chosen orator of this great occasion, ex-President Cleveland —one indeed eminently fitted for the task. The orator was worthy the subject; the subject—honoring the memory of one of the benefactors of his age—worthy the orator.

"In all the relations of life, the man whose memory we honor this day was worthy the emulation of the young men who succeed him upon the stage of the world. With clear brain and clean hands he ably and faithfully administered high public trusts. He was in the loftiest sense worthy the personal and official association of the eminent Chief Magistrate at whose Council Board he sat, and whose confidence he fully shared.

"Fortune, indeed, came with both hands full to Nebraska, when J. Sterling Morton, in early manhood, selected this struggling frontier State for his home. How well, and with what large interest, he repaid Nebraska for a confidence that knew no abatement, this noble monument is the enduring witness.

"Under his guiding hand, a new day was added to the calendar. The glory is his of having called Arbor Day into being. Touched by his magic wand, millions of trees now beautify and adorn this magnificent State. It is no mere figure of speech to say that the wilderness—by transition almost miraculous—has become a garden, the desolate places been made to blossom as the rose. 'Tree-planting day' is now one of the sacred days of this commonwealth. Henceforth, upon its annual recurrence, ordinary avocations are to be suspended, and this day wholly set apart to pursuits which tend to beautify the home, make glorious the landscape, and gladden the hearts of all the people. Inseparably associated in all the coming years with this day and its memories will be the name of J. Sterling Morton. That he was its inspiration, is his abiding fame.

"In other times, monuments have been erected to men whose chief distinction was, that desolation and human slaughter had marked their pathways. The hour has struck, and a new era dawned. The monument we now unveil is to one whose name brings no thoughts of decimated ranks, or of desolated provinces, no memories of beleaguered cities, of starving peoples, or of orphans' tears. In all the years, it will be associated with glorious peace. Peace, 'that hath her victories no less renowned than war'; peace, in whose train are happy homes, songs of rejoicing, the glad laughter of children, the planting of trees, and the golden harvest.

'Soft peace she brings; wherever she arrives, She builds our quiet as she forms our lives; Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even, And opens in each heart a little heaven.'"

XLIV A MOUNTAIN COLLEGE

SUCH INSTITUTIONS VALUABLE FOR MOULDING CHARACTER—MR. SCOTT BOTH HONORABLE AND PRUDENT IN BUSINESS—HIS GREATNESS AS AN AGRICULTURIST—HIS AVOIDANCE OF PUBLIC LIFE—HIS SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC VIRTUES—DEPENDENCE OF THE NATION ON THE CHARACTER OF ITS LITERARY INSTITUTIONS.

In 1895, Mrs. Julia Green Scott, of Bloomington, Illinois, established a college in the mountains of Kentucky in honor of the memory of her husband. He was a native of Kentucky, and the institution bears his honored name.

Upon the occasion of the dedication I spoke as follows:

"The dedication of the Matthew T. Scott, Jr., Collegiate Institute marks an important epoch in the history of central eastern Kentucky. It cannot be doubted that this institution will be potent for good in moulding the character and fitting the youth of this and succeeding generations for the important duties that pertain to citizenship in a great Republic. Is it too much to believe that this may be reckoned as one of the many agencies in this land, that in the outstretched years will inspire our youth with yet higher ideals of duties that await them in life? Would that the words I now repeat of one of England's great statesmen could be indelibly impressed upon the memory of all who may hereafter pass out from these walls: 'Be inspired with the belief that life is a great and noble calling; not a mean and grovelling thing that we are to shuffle through as we can, but an elevated and lofty destiny.'

"It is eminently fitting to this occasion, that I recall something of the man whose honored name has been appropriately given to this institution. And yet, I am not unmindful of the fact that if in life he would shrink from public mention of his name, or of aught associated with it in the way of benefactions. He was a native of Kentucky—born in Fayette County, February 4, 1828. His father, of the same name, was an honored citizen of Lexington, and for many years the leading banker of the State. The son inherited the high sense of personal honor, and the splendid capacity for business, that for a lifetime so eminently characterized his father. A graduate of Centre College at the age of eighteen, his fortunes were soon cast in Central Illinois, where his remaining years were spent, and where his ashes now repose. During his early residence in Illinois Mr. Scott realized—as few men did fully at that day —the marvellous prosperity that surely awaited the development of the resources of that great State. It was the day of golden opportunity for the man of wise forecast. His investments were timely; his business methods all upon the highest plane. He became in time a large landed proprietor, and stood in the van of the advanced agriculturists of his day. He formulated enduring systems of tilling the soil, and making sure the munificent reward of labor wisely bestowed upon this, the primal calling of man. His methods were in large measure adopted by others, and have proved no unimportant factor in the development and prosperity of the great agricultural interests of the State.

"Mr. Scott was in the largest sense a man of affairs. He was ever the safe counsellor in the many business enterprises of which he was the founder. It were scant praise to say he was possessed of the highest integrity. His was indeed an integrity that could know no temptation. Faithful to every obligation, he was incapable of an ignoble act. He was eminently a just man, possessing in a marked degree the sturdy characteristics of his Scotch-Irish ancestors. His principle in action was:

'For justice all place a temple, And all season Summer.'

"He was in no sense a self-seeker. Deeply interested in public affairs, and having the courage of his convictions upon the exciting questions of the day, he was never a candidate for public office. Declining the nomination tendered him by his party for Congress, he chose the quiet of home rather than the turmoil of public life. In the advocacy, however, of what he believed to be for the public weal, 'he took counsel ever of his courage, never of his fears.' That he possessed the ability to have acquitted himself with honor in responsible positions of public trust, no one who knew him could doubt.

"Courteous to all with whom he came in contact, he was the highest type of the old-school gentleman. He exemplified in his daily life the truth of the poet's words:

'That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.'

"No man ever had a loftier appreciation of what was due to woman. There was in very truth a relish of old-time chivalry in his bearing in the presence of ladies. He was never happier than when surrounded by children, by whom he was ever trusted and loved.

"No higher tribute could be paid him than by the words spoken with equal truth of another: 'With him the assured guardian of my children, I could have pillowed my head in peace.'

"Holding steadily, and without reservation, to the Presbyterian faith of his fathers, he was none the less imbued with a true catholic spirit, and gave where needed, liberally of his abundance. He was deeply touched by every tale of human sorrow,

'His hand open as day to melting charity.'

"I may be pardoned for adding that Mr. Scott was supremely happy in his domestic ties. Blessed in all who gathered about his hearthstone, his cup of happiness was full to overflowing. All who crossed his threshold felt that they were indeed in the sunshine of the perfect home. He sleeps in the beautiful cemetery near the city he loved, his grave covered with flowers by those to whom in life he had been a benefactor and friend. To those to whom his toils and cares were given, to kindred and friends, his memory will ever be a precious heritage. Truly,

'the just Keeps something of his glory, in his dust.'

"I know of no words more fitting with which to close this poor tribute to the man I honored and loved, than those of Dr. Craig in his beautiful eulogy upon the Rev. Dr. Lewis W. Green, father of Mrs. Julia G. Scott, the noble and gifted woman whose generosity has made possible the founding of the Institution we now dedicate:

"'Society at large felt the impress of his noble character, his polished breeding, and his widespread beneficence. His determination to excel, and that by means of faithful diligence and laborious applications, should arouse our young men to like fidelity to their increasing opportunities. He was the most unselfish of men, the most affectionate of friends, the humblest of Christians. He owed much to the soil from which he sprang. He repaid that much, and with large interest.'

"The Institution we now dedicate is just upon the threshold of what we trust will prove an abundantly useful and honorable career. And while we may not 'look into the seeds of time and say which grain will grow and which will not,' yet we may well believe that under judicious management, already assured, this will prove a potent agency in the great work of education.

"In this connection the words of a former President of Transylvania University, and of Centre College, Dr. Green, possess to-day as deep significance as when uttered almost a half-century ago:

"'But it may be truly said, that no domestic instruction, however wise, no political institution, however free, no social organization, however perfect, no discoveries of science, however rapid or sublime, no activity of the press—pouring forth with prolific abundance its multitudinous publications—no accumulation of ancient learning in stately libraries, no one, nor all of these together, can supersede the education of the school; nay, all of them derive their noblest elements and highest life from the instruction of the living teacher. The intelligence of families, the wisdom of Governments, the freedom of nations, the progress of science itself, and of all our useful arts, is measured by the condition and character of our literary institutions. . . . It is from such as these, that the world's great men have sprung. It is from the deep, granite foundations of society that the materials are gathered to rear a superstructure of massive grandeur and enduring strength. The God of nature has scattered broadcast over all our land and our mountain heights, in our secluded valleys, and in many a forest home, the choicest elements of genius; invaluable means of intellectual wealth, the noblest treasures of the State.'

"The hour has struck, and the Matthew T. Scott, Jr., Collegiate Institution enters now upon its sacred mission.

"May we not believe that here will be realized in full fruition the fond hopes of those who have given it being? that as the years come and go, there will pass out from its walls those who by diligent application are fitted for the responsible duties that await them in life, well equipped, it may be, to acquit themselves with honor, in the high places of school, of church, or of State?"

XLV DEDICATION OF A NATIONAL PARK

CHICKAMAUGA NATIONAL PARK DEDICATED BY ACT OF CONGRESS—THE SURVIVORS OF THE GREAT BATTLE NOW BUT FEW—THE REAL CONSECRATION WAS ACCOMPLISHED BY THE HEROES OF THE FIGHT.

The Chickamauga National Park was by act of Congress dedicated September 19, 1895. Senators Palmer, of Illinois, and Gordon, of Georgia, were the orators of the occasion. The immense audience assembled included the Governors of twenty States and committees of both Houses of Congress. I presided on the occasion, and delivered the following address:

"I am honored by being called to preside over the ceremonies of this day. By solemn decree of the representatives of the American people, this magnificent Park, with its wondrous associations and memories, is now to be dedicated for all time to national and patriotic purposes.

"This is the fitting hour for the august ceremonies we now inaugurate. To-day, by act of the Congress of the United States, the Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park is forever set apart from all common uses, solemnly dedicated for all the ages to all the American people.

"The day is auspicious. It notes the anniversary of one of the greatest battles known to history. Here, in the dread tribunal of last resort, valor contended against valor. Here brave men struggled and died for the right, 'as God gave them to see the right.'

"Thirty-two years have passed, and the few survivors of that masterful day—victors and vanquished alike—again meet upon this memorable field. Alas, the splendid armies which rendezvoused there are now little more than a procession of shadows.

"'On fame's eternal camping-ground, Their silent tents are spread.'

"Our eyes now behold the sublime spectacle of the honored survivors of the great battle coming together upon these heights once more. They meet, not in deadly conflict, but as brothers, under one flag, fellow-citizens of a common country, all grateful to God, that in the supreme struggle, the Government of our fathers—our common heritage—was triumphant, and that to all the coming generations of our countrymen, it will remain 'an indivisible union of indestructible States.'

"Our dedication to-day is but a ceremony. In the words of the immortal Lincoln at Gettysburg: 'But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract.'

"I will detain you no longer from listening to the eloquent words of those who were participants in the bloody struggle—the sharers alike in its danger and its glory."

XLVI A BAR MEETING STILL IN SESSION

APPOINTMENT OF A COMMITTEE TO FORMULATE RULES FOR COURT PROCEDURE— SOME MEMBERS AGREE TO VOTE DOWN THE MOTION TO ADJOURN—THE MOTION REJECTED THREE TIMES—INDIGNATION OF THE PRESIDENT.

A Bar meeting recalled by the mention of Mr. Ingersoll would be worth while if it could only be described as it actually occurred.

At the opening of the December term of the Circuit Court in Woodford in the year of grace 'fifty-nine, John Clark, Esq., announced that a meeting of the Bar would be held at the courthouse at "early candle-lighting" on that very evening, for the purpose of formulating rules to be presented to the Court for its government during the term.

At the appointed hour, the lawyers, "home and foreign," being promptly in attendance and the court-room crowded, an organization was duly effected by the election of Colonel Shope, an able and dignified barrister of the old school, as President. As undisputed spokesman of the occasion, Mr. Clark, at once moved the appointment of a committee of five to prepare the aforementioned rules. The motion prevailing, nem. con., in accordance with the time-honored usage, the mover of the resolution was duly appointed Chairman, with Ingersoll, Shaw, Ewing, and the chronicler of these important events as his coadjutors. Upon the retirement of the committee, the rules already prepared by Clark were read and promptly approved, and that gentleman instructed to present them to the Bar meeting —then in patient waiting.

As the recognized parliamentarian of the occasion—with the proposed rules in safe keeping—was in the van, upon the return to the court-room Ingersoll quietly proposed to his three untitled associates that, after the adoption of the resolutions, we should vote down Clark's motion to adjourn and thereby remain all night in session. In approved form, and with a dignity that would have done no discredit to a high-church bishop, the rules were read off by the Chairman and agreed to without a dissenting voice.

After a brief silence, Mr. Clark arose and said: "Mr. President, if there is no further business before this meeting, I move we do now adjourn." The motion was duly seconded by Welcome P. Brown, who had been Probate Judge of McLean County far back in the thirties, and postmaster of the struggling village of Bloomington when Jackson was President. President Shope promptly arose and in the blandest possible terms submitted: "Gentlemen of the Bar, all who are in favor of the motion to adjourn will please say, Aye." Clark, Brown, and a half-a-dozen others at once voted, "Aye." "Those opposed to the motion to adjourn will please say, No," was the alternative then submitted by the impartial presiding officer. Ingersoll, his confederates, and a sufficient contingent won over quietly voted, "No." "The motion is lost," observed the President, resuming his seat. "What is the further pleasure of the meeting?" The silence of the grave for a time prevailed. Ingersoll and his followers deporting themselves with a solemnity well befitting an occasion for prayer. Again arising, the chairman of the committee—in a voice less rotund than before—said: "Well, Mr. President, if there is no further business before this meeting, I move we do now adjourn." Duly seconded, the motion was again put, Clark and half a dozen others voting as before. "Those opposed," remarked the President— in tones perceptibly less conciliatory than an hour earlier—"will say, No." The scarcely audible, but none the less effective "no" prevailed, the leader meanwhile giving no sign and apparently rapt as if unravelling the mysteries beyond the veil.

A silence that could be felt now in very truth fell upon the meeting in the old courthouse assembled. Even the bystanders seemed impressed that something far out of the ordinary was happening.

Receiving little in the way of encouragement, the Chairman of the late committee, as he dubiously looked around upon the forms of the silent majority—each of whom sat apparently buried in thought that touched the very depths,—again and for the last time addressed the presiding officer:

"Mr. President, I move that we adjourn."

Conclusions being again tried in wonted parliamentary form between the opposing forces, with like result as before, the venerable president,—by way of prelude first giving full vent to an exclamation nowhere to be found in the Methodist "book of discipline,"—at once indignantly vacated the chair, and literally shook the dust of the court-room from his feet. The others "stood not upon the order of their going," and although fifty years have come and gone, that identical Bar meeting in the old courthouse at Metamora is still in session,—never having been officially adjourned even to this day.

XLVII THE HAYNE-WEBSTER DEBATE RECALLED

THE PUBLIC CAREER OF LYMAN TRUMBULL—HE HEARS CALHOUN MAKE A MASTERLY SPEECH IN HIS OWN DEFENCE—TARIFF LAW THE SUBJECT OF DISCUSSION —MR. HAYNE'S REPLY.

Ex-Senator Lyman Trumbull called upon me at the Vice-President's Chamber a few months before his death. It was upon the occasion of his last visit to Washington. He pointed out to me with much interest the seat he had occupied for many years in the Senate. The Senators to whom I introduced him had all come in since his day. His associates in that chamber, with three or four exceptions, had passed beyond the veil.

The public career of Mr. Trumbull began nearly two-thirds of a century ago. He was distinguished as a judge, and later as an able and active participant in exciting debates in the Senate, extending from the repeal of the Missouri Compromise to the impeachment of President Johnson. He was a member when the sessions of the Senate were held in the old chamber, and Cass, Crittenden, Douglas, Tombs, and Jefferson Davis were among his early official associates. As Chairman of the Judiciary Committee he had reported the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States.

In the course of my conversation with him upon the occasion first mentioned, I inquired whether he had ever met either Webster, Clay, or Calhoun. He replied that it was a matter of deep regret to him that he had never seen either Clay or Webster, but that he had in his early manhood heard a masterful speech from Mr. Calhoun. Mr. Trumbull had then just been graduated from an eastern college; and on his way to Greenville, Georgia, to take charge of a school, he spent a few days in Charleston, South Carolina. This was in 1833, and the speech of Mr. Calhoun was in vindication of his course in the Senate in voting for the Compromise Bill of Mr. Clay, which provided for the gradual reduction of the tariff. The alleged injustice of the tariff law then in force had been the prime cause of the "nullification" excitement precipitated by South Carolina at that eventful period. The proclamation of President Jackson, it will be remembered, proved the death-blow, and the nullification excitement soon thereafter subsided. Mr. Trumbull told me that he distinctly recalled John C. Calhoun, his commanding presence and splendid argument, as he addressed the large assemblage. As a clear-brained logician—whose statement alone was almost unanswerable argument—he thought Mr. Calhoun unsurpassed by any statesman our country had known. Mr. Trumbull added that at the close of Mr. Calhoun's speech before mentioned, amid great enthusiasm, "Hayne! Hayne!" was heard from every part of the vast assemblage. For an hour or more he then listened spell-bound to Robert Y. Hayne, the formidable antagonist even of Webster in a debate now historic. Mr. Trumbull said that of the two generations of public men he had heard, he had never listened to one more eloquent than Hayne.

XLVIII IN THE HIGHLANDS

THE WRITER THE GUEST OF A GENTLEMAN IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS— DUNSTAFFNAGE CASTLE—IONA AND SAINT COLUMBA—SENATOR BECK AND MR. SMITH BOTH DEVOTEES OF BURNS.

During a sojourn of some weeks on the western coast of Scotland, I was the guest for a time of Mr. Stewart, the head of what remained of a once powerful clan in the Highlands. My host was a distinguished member of the London Bar, but spent his Summers at the home of his ancestors a few miles out from Alpin. Here, in as romantic a locality as is known even to the Highlands, with his kindred about him he enjoyed a full measure of repose from the distracting cares of the great metropolis. At the time of my visit his brother, an officer of the British army, just returned from India, was with him. Both gentlemen wore kilts for the time; and all the appointments of the house were reminders of bygone centuries when border warfare was in full flower, forays upon the Lowlands of constant occurrence, and the principle of the clans in action,

"Let him take who has the power And let him hold who can."

At the bountifully furnished board of my Highland host there was much "upon the plain highway of talk" I will not soon forget. And then, with the gathering shadows in the ancestral hall, with the rude weapons of past generations hanging upon every wall, and the stirring strains of the bagpipe coming from the distance, it was worth while to listen to the Highland legends that had been handed down from sire to son.

Not far away was the old castle of Dunstaffnage, which in its prime had been the scene of innumerable tournaments and battles that have added many pages to Scottish annals. Within the enclosure of the old castle sleeps the dust of long ago kings—the veritable grave of Macbeth being readily pointed out to inquiring travellers.

The conversation around the hearthstone of my host turned to the famous island of the Inner Hebrides, Iona, with its wonderful history reaching back to the sixth century. The ruins of the old monastery, built fourteen hundred years ago by the fugitive Saint, Columba, are well worth visiting. The dust of the early kings of Norway, Ireland, and Scotland rest within these ancient walls, and it is gratifying to know that here even the ill-fated Duncan

"After life's fitful fever sleeps well."

It would have been passing strange, with host and guests all of Scottish lineage, if there had been no mention of Robbie Burns, for in old Scotia, whether in palace or hovel, the one subject that never tires is the "ploughman poet of Ayr." A little incident of slightly American relish which I related the evening of my departure needed no "surgical operation" to find appropriate lodgment.

Senator Beck of Kentucky was a Scotchman. He was in the highest sense a typical Scotchman—lacking nothing, either of the brawn, brain, or brogue, of the most gifted of that race. It is needless to say he was a lover of Burns. From "Tam O'Shanter" to "Mary in Heaven," all were safely garnered in his memory—to be rolled out in rich, melodious measure at the opportune moment. The close friend and associate of Senator Beck, when the cares of State were for a time in abeyance, and the fishing season at its best, was "old Smith," superintendent of the Botanical Gardens, also a Scotchman, and likewise in intense degree a devotee of Burns. The bond of union between the man of flowers and the Kentucky statesman was complete.

Now, it so fell out that a newly elected member of the House, from the Green River district, one day called upon his distinguished colleague of the Senate, and requested a note of introduction to the superintendent of the Botanical Gardens, as he wished to procure some flowers to send a lady constituent then in the city. "Certainly, certainly," replied the ever-obliging statesman: "I will give you a line to old Smith." Just as the delighted member was departing with the letter in hand, Senator Beck remarked, in his peculiarly snappy Scotch accent, "Now, Tom, if you will only tell old Smith that you are a great admirer of his countryman, Robbie Burns, he will give you all the flowers in the conservatory." The member, who knew as little of Burns as he did of the "thirty-nine articles," departed in high feather.

Almost immediately thereafter, presenting his letter, he was received with great cordiality by the superintendent and assured that any request of Senator Beck would be cheerfully granted. Just as he was reaching out for the fragrant bouquet the superintendent was graciously presenting, the closing words of the Senator were indistinctly recalled, and in a manner indicating no small measure of self-confidence, the member remarked, "By the way, Mr. Smith, I am a great admirer of your countryman, Jimmy Burns." "Jimmy Burns! Jimmy Burns! Jimmy Burns!" exclaimed the overwhelmingly indignant Scotchman, "Jimmy Burns! Depart instantly, sir!"

The member from Green River district departed as bidden, taking no thought of the flowers; delighted—as he often asservated—to have escaped even with his life.

XLIX ANECDOTES OF LAWYERS

JUDGE BALDWIN'S BOOK, "THE FLUSH TIMES"—DEFENDANT'S COUNSEL ASKS ONE QUESTION TOO MANY—CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE AGAINST A CARD-PLAYER —JOHN RANDOLPH'S REVENGE—HORACE GREELEY NOT A MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL—A CANDIDATE'S QUALIFICATIONS FOR SCHOOL-TEACHING—THE AUTHOR OF "DON'T YOU REMEMBER SWEET ALICE, BEN BOLT?"—A CANDIDATE'S POSITION WITH REGARD TO THE MAINE LAW—GOVERNOR TILDEN'S POPULARITY —MR. TRAVERS MISSES A PORTRAIT—A CANDIDATE FOR HOLY ORDERS TELLS A BIBLE STORY.

No better place can be found for studying that most interesting of all subjects, Man, than in our courts of justice. Indeed, what a readable book that would be which related the best things which have occurred at the bar!

Judge Baldwin conferred an inestimable blessing upon our profession when he wrote "The Flush Times," a book that will hold a place in our literature as long as there is a lawyer left on earth. To two generations of our craft this book has furnished agreeable and delightful entertainment. To the practitioner "shattered with the contentions of the great hall," its pages have been as refreshing as the oasis to the travel-stained pilgrim.

The late Justice Field, long his associate upon the supreme bench of California, told me that Judge Baldwin was one of the most genial and delightful men he had ever known, and certainly he must have been to have written "Cave Burton," "My First Appearance at the Bar," "A Hung Court," and "Ovid Bolus, Esq., Attorney-at-law and Solicitor in Chancery."

Almost every Bar has some tradition or incident worth preserving —something in the way of brilliant witticisms or repartee that should not be wholly lost. Of the race of old-time lawyers—of which Mr. Lincoln was the splendid type—but few remain. Of the survivors, I know of no better representative than Proctor Knott of Kentucky. The possessor of ability of the highest order, and of splendid attainments as well, he is of all men the best story-teller this country of ours has known. Among his delighted auditors in and out of Congress have been men from every section and of exalted public station. For some of the incidents to be related I am indebted to Governor Knott. The obligation would be much greater if the stories could be retold in manner and form as in the days gone by, and upon occasions never to be forgotten when they fell from his own lips.

If, however, even fairly well I might garner up and hand down some of the experiences of the generation of lawyers now passing, I would feel that I had, in some humble measure, discharged that obligation that Lord Bacon says, "every man owes to his profession."

ONE QUESTION TOO MANY

What lawyer has not, at some time, in the trial of a case asked just one question too many? I know of nothing better along that line of inquiry than the following related by Governor Knott. He was attending the Circuit Court in one of the Green River counties in Kentucky, when the case of the "Commonwealth versus William Jenkins" was called for trial. The aforesaid William was under indictment for having bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness. Fairly strong but by no means conclusive testimony against the defendant had been given when the State "rested."

A lawyer of the old school, who still carried his green bag into Court, and who never wearied of telling of his conflicts at the bar with Grundy, Holt, and Ben Hardin, in their palmiest days, was retained for the defence. His chief witness was Squire Barnhouse, who lived over on the "Rolling Fork." He was the magistrate for his precinct, deacon in the church, and the recognized oracle for the neighborhood. Upon direct examination, in the case at bar, he testified that "he knowed the defendant William Jenkins; had knowed him thirty year or more; knowed his father and mother afore him." Inquired of then as to the general reputation of the defendant, as to his being "a peaceable and law-abiding citizen," he was found to be all that could be reasonably desired.

Squire Barnhouse was then asked whether he was present at the Caney Fork muster, where it was alleged that the defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness. It turned out that he was present. Further questioned as to whether he had paid particular attention to the fight, he replied that he did; that he "had never seed Billy in a fout before, and he had a kind of family pride in seein' how he would handle himself." Further questioned as to whether he saw the defendant bite off the ear of the prosecuting witness he replied, "No, sir, nothin' uv the kind, nothin' uv the kind." This was followed by the inquiry as to whether his opportunities were such that he would most probably have seen it, if it had occurred. "In course I would, in course I would," was the emphatic reply.

The witness was here turned over to the Commonwealth's attorney, who declined to cross-examine, and Squire Barnhouse was in the act of leaving the stand when in an evil hour it occurred to defendant's counsel to ask one question more.

"By the way, Squire, just one more question, just where you stand; now I understood you to say"—repeating the answers already given; "now just this question, did you see anything occur while the fight was going on, or after it was over, that would lead you to believe that this defendant had bitten off the ear of the prosecuting witness?"

The Squire, half down the witness stand, answered, "No, sir, nothing uv the kind," then, slowly and thoughtfully, "nothing uv the kind." A moment's pause. "Well, since you mention it, I do remember that just as Billy rizened up offen him the last time, I seed him spit out a piece of ear, but whose ear it was, I don't pertend to know."

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

In the good County of Scotland, in the State of Missouri, back in the ante-bellum days there lived one Solomon Davis, whose chronic horror was card-playing. The evils of this life were in his judgment largely to be attributed to this terrible habit. It was his belief that if the Grand Jury would only take hold of the matter in the right spirit, a stop could be put to the "nefarious habit of card-playing, which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County." This was the burden of his discourse in and out of season. His ardent desire that he himself should be called on the Grand Jury to the accomplishment of the end mentioned was at length gratified. At a certain term of court he was not only summoned upon the Grand Jury, but duly appointed its foreman.

Upon the adjournment of court for dinner, immediately thereafter, one Ben Mason, the wit of the bar,—and not himself wholly unacquainted with the pastime that involved spades, kings, and even queens,— ardently congratulated the new foreman upon his appointment, assuring him that now his opportunity had come to put to an end, by the omnipotent power of the Grand Jury, "to the nefarious habit of card-playing which was ruining the morals of so many young men in Scotland County."

"And now, Squire," continued Ben, "I can give you the name of a gentleman who doesn't play himself, but is always around where playing is going on, and he can tell you who plays, where they play, how much is bet, and all about it."

Delighted at this apparently providential revelation, the Squire had a subpoena forthwith issued for the witness mentioned, one Ranzey Sniffle, a half-witted fellow who had never taken or expected to take a part in the game himself, but whose cup of happiness was full to the brim when, in return for punching up the fires, mixing the drinks, and snuffing the candle, he was permitted to see the play actually going on.

Trembling with apprehension at the dread summons to appear before the "Grand Inquest"—if it had been three centuries earlier at Saragossa it could scarcely have appeared more alarming—the witness was ushered into the immediate presence of the awful tribunal over which Squire Davis was now presiding. After taking the customary oath, and telling his name, age, and where he lived, Mr. Sniffle was questioned by the foreman as to his personal knowledge of any game or games of cards being played for money, or any valuable thing, within one year last past, within the said County of Scotland, and solemnly warned, if he had any such knowledge, to proceed in his own way, and tell all about it; to tell when and where it was, who were present, and what amount, if any, was bet.

Recovering himself a little by this time, the witness began:

"The last time I seed them playin', Squire, was at Levi Myers's sto'; they sot in about sundown last Saturday night, and never loosened their grip until Monday mornin' about daylight."

"Now, Mr. Sniffle," interrupted the Squire with great dignity, "will you proceed in your own way, to give to the gentlemen of this Grand Jury the names of the persons who were thus engaged not only in violating the statute law of Missouri, but in violating the law of God by desecrating the holy Sabbath?"

"Well, Squire," continued the witness, slowly counting off on his fingers, "thar was Levi Myers, Sammy Hocum, Moss Johnson, Josiah Davis,"—"Suspend, Mr. Sniffle, suspend," commanded the Squire with great indignation, and turning to his official associates, he continued, "I am aware, gentlemen of the Grand Jury, that my son Josiah is sometimes present when cards are being played, but he assures me on his honor as a gentleman, that he never takes part, and doesn't even know one card from another. Now, Mr. Witness, do you undertake, under the solemn sanction of an oath, to say that my son Josiah was engaged in the game? By the way, Mr. Sniffle, do you understand the nature of an oath?"

"No, Squire," slowly replied the witness, "I dun know as I do."

"Don't you know what will become of you, Ranze, if you swear to a lie?" quickly asked a juryman from a back seat.

"Yas, in course, if I swar to a lie, they'll send me to the penitentiary, and then I'll go to hell afterwards," replied Mr. Sniffle.

The competency of the witness thus appearing, the foreman proceeded:

"Now, Mr. Sniffle, do you, under the solemn sanction of an oath, undertake to say that my son Josiah was engaged in that game?"

"I dun know as I adzackly understand the meanin' of bein' engaged in the game; but I seed Josiah a-dealin' the papes, when his time come to fling a card he flung it, and uv'ry now and then, he rech out and drug in the chicerokum. I dun know as I adzackly understand 'bout bein' engaged in the game, but if that were bein' engaged, then Josiah were engaged!"

JOHN RANDOLPH OF ROANOKE

Seldom have more significant words been uttered than those of John Randolph of Roanoke, when told that a certain man had been denouncing him. "Denouncing me," replied Randolph, with astonishment, "that is strange, I never did him a favor."

The voice of but one John Randolph of Roanoke has mingled in the contentions of the Great Hall. That was no cause for regret, as for a lifetime he was the dread of political foes and friends alike.

A colleague from "the valley" probably remembered him well to the last. That colleague, recently elected to fill a vacancy caused by the death of a member of long service, signalized his entrance into the House by an unprovoked attack upon Mr. Randolph. The latter, from his seat near by, listened with apparent unconcern to the fierce personal assault. To the surprise of all, no immediate reply was made to the speech, and the new member flattered himself, no doubt, that the "grim sage" was for once completely unhorsed.

A few days later, however, Randolph, while discussing a bill of local importance, casually remarked: "This bill, Mr. Speaker, lost its ablest advocate in the death of my lamented colleague, whose seat is still vacant!"

HORACE GREELEY

It will be remembered that the will of Stephen Girard of Philadelphia, after a splendid bequest for the establishment of the great University which bears his name, provided that no minister of the Gospel should ever be permitted to enter the grounds of the institution.

It so happened upon a time, that Horace Greeley, wearing white hat and cravat, and with his ministerial cast of countenance well in evidence, sauntered up to the gate of the Girard institution and was about to enter. He was instantly stopped by the keeper, who bluntly told him that he could not enter.

"What the hell is the reason I can't?" demanded Greeley.

"Oh! I beg your pardon," apologized the astonished gate-keeper, "walk right in, sir; you can."

PATRIOTIC TO THE CORE

Judge Allen of southern Illinois, a leading member of Congress a half-century ago, during a recent address to the old settlers of McLean County related an incident of early days on the Wabash. Population was sparse, and the common school was yet far in the future. The teacher who could read, write, and "cipher" to the "single rule of three" was well equipped for his noble calling. Lamentable failures upon the part of aspirants to attain even the modest standard indicated, were by no means of rare occurrence.

Back in the thirties, an individual of by no means prepossessing appearance presented himself to Judge Allen's father, the Magistrate, Ruling Elder, and ex-officio school director for his precinct, and asked permission "to keep school." Being interrogated as to what branches he could teach, the three R's—readin', 'ritin', and 'rithmetic—were, with apparent confidence, at once put in nomination.

"Have you ever taught geography and English grammar?" was the next inquiry.

With a much less confident tone, as he had probably never heard of either, he replied:

"I have teached geography some, but as for English grammar, I wouldn't 'low one of 'em to come into my school-house. 'Merican grammar is good enough for me!"

"SWEET ALICE, BEN BOLT"

A touching scene occurred in the House of Representatives a number of years ago, when an aged member from New Jersey arose, and for the first time addressed the Speaker. All eyes were turned in his direction as he stood calmly awaiting recognition. He was tall, spare, and erect. His venerable appearance and kindly expression, coupled with most courteous manners, at once commanded attention. As in husky tones he again said, "Mr. Speaker!" there came from the farthest end of the Great Hall in a whisper but distinctly heard by all, the word, "Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt." A moment later, and from the floor and gallery many voices blended in the familiar refrain, "Don't you remember sweet Alice Ben Bolt?"

The ovation which immediately followed was such as is rarely witnessed in the Great Hall. Business was suspended for the moment, and the hand of the new member warmly grasped by the chosen representatives of all parties and sections. It was an inspiring tribute, one worthily bestowed. The member was Thomas Dunn English, author of the little poem, sung in palace and cottage, which has found its way into all languages, and touched all hearts.

THE MAINE LAW

The mention of the "Maine Law" recalls a little episode that occurred in the early days in the good county of McLean. One Duncan—no kinsman to him who had been

"So clear in his great office"—

was again a candidate for the Legislature. The temperance question, in some of its many phases, was then giving much trouble to aspirants to public place. In the midst of his opening speech at the old courthouse, the candidate was interrupted by one of the inquisitive men who always appear when least wanted, with the question: "Mr. Duncan, are you in favor of the Maine Law?" "Yes, yes," quickly replied the candidate, "I am coming to that very soon." Shying off to the tariff, the improvement of Western rivers, and the necessity of rigid economy in all public expenditures, our candidate was about to close when the same troublesome inquiry, "Mr. Duncan, are you in favor of the Maine Law?" again greeted his unwilling ears. "Oh, yes," exclaimed the orator, in tone and manner indicating much thankfulness. "I am glad you called my attention to his subject; I was about to forget it. My fellow-citizens have a right to know my views upon all public questions, and I have nothing to conceal. I have no respect for candidates who attempt to dodge any of these great questions. I have given you fully, my views upon the tariff, upon a general system of internal improvements, and something of my own services in the past; and now thanking you for your attention, will ——" "Mr. Duncan, are you in favor of the Maine Law?" were the words that again escaped the lips of the importunate inquisitor.

Fully appreciating his dilemma—with constituents about equally divided upon the dangerous question—the candidate at once nerved himself for the answer upon which hung his hopes and fears and boldly replied; "Yes, sir, I am in favor of the law, but everlastingly opposed to its enforcement!"

HOW HE GOT HIS MAJORITY

One of the candidates upon the ticket with Mr. Tilden when he was elected Governor of New York, was the late William Dorshemer. Judge Maynard told me that he was present in the library of Mr. Tilden when Dorshemer called, immediately after the full election returns had been received. Tilden's popularity at the time was very great —growing out of his successful prosecution of the noted Canal ring,—and resulted in the triumph of the ticket of which he was the head. Mr. Dorshemer, the Lieutenant-Governor elect, was greatly delighted that his own majority exceeded that of the more distinguished candidate for the Chief Executive office. During the conversation, Dorshemer remarked to Tilden: "Your majority is only fifty thousand, while mine is fifty-one thousand, five hundred." "Yes, yes," quickly remarked Tilden; "you got the fifteen hundred; I gave you the fifty thousand!"

WILLIAM R. TRAVERS

The generation now passing has known no man of keener wit than the late William R. Travers, of New York. An impediment of speech not infrequently gave zest and vim to his words, when they finally found utterance. He was for a lifetime steeped in affairs of great concern and among his associates were prominent factors in the commercial and political world.

On his revisiting Baltimore some years after his removal to New York, an old acquaintance remarked, "You seem to stutter more in New York than you did here, Mr. Travers." To this the brief reply at length came, "Have to—it's a bigger place."

Back in the days when Gould and Fisk were names to conjure with in the mart and on the board; when railroads and gold mines were but pawns upon the chessboard of "money changers and those who sold doves"; when "Black Friday" was still fresh in the memories of thousands, this incident is said to have occurred.

To weightier belongings, Gould and Fisk had added by way of pastime a splendid steamer to ply between Fall River and New York. Upon its trial voyage, Travers was the guest of its owners. The appointments of the vessel were gorgeous in the extreme, and in the large saloon were suspended life-size portraits of Gould and of Fisk. After a promenade of an hour in company with the originals, Travers suddenly paused in front of the portraits, gazed earnestly at each in turn, and then—with eyes fixed on the intervening space —slowly ejaculated: "Where's Christ?"

TOLD BY COLONEL W. D. HAYNIE

The following, told with happy effect by Colonel W. D. Haynie of the Chicago Bar, probably has no parallel in theological literature. A colored brother who felt called upon to preach, applied to the Bishop of his church for license to exercise the sacred office. The Bishop, far from being favorably impressed by the appearance of the candidate, earnestly inquired whether he had read the Bible, and was familiar with appropriate stories to relate, as occasion might require, to his Sunday school and congregation. The answer was, "Boss, I has read dat book from led to led." In response to the request of the good Bishop that he would repeat a Bible story, the applicant for Holy Orders began:

"One time dar wus a wicked ole King, an' his name was Ahab; an' he live in Babylon; an' he wus a mighty warrior; an' one day he wuz marchin' along at de head uv his army fru de streets of Babylon, an' he seed Bersheby standin' up on de house-top; an' he said to his soldiers, 'Bring me Bersheby fur my wife'; an' day brung him Bersheby fur his wife. An' ole Ahab he march a long ways off, and fit a big battle, an' tuk a hull lot of prisoners; an' cum a-marchin' back fru de streets of Babylon, wid de brass bans a-playin', and de stars an' stripes a-floatin'; an' Bersheby she wuz a-standin' on de house-top, and she holler out,

"'How did you cum out wid' em, old Ahab?'

"An' it make him powerful mad you know, an he say to his soldiers, 'Frow her down to me.' And dey frowd her down to him; and den he say, 'Frow her down to me seven times'; and dey frowd her down seven times; and den he say, 'Frow her down to me seventy times seven times!' and dey frowed her down to him seventy times seven times; an' po' ole Bersheby, she crawl away and lay down at de rich man's gate, and de dogs come and lick her wouns, and when dey gevered he up, dar was 'leven basketfuls left, an' whose wife will she be in de resurrection?"

L OUR NOBLE CALLING

THE LEGAL PROFESSION—TAKEN BY SURPRISE—MISSING THE POINT OF THE JOKE—A REMARKABLE INCIDENT—A JUDICIAL DECISION ON BAPTISM—A DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT—STRONG PERSONAL ATTACHMENT—IRISH WIT—ENGLISH JOKES ABOUT LAWYERS—GREATNESS UNAPPRECIATED—ALL IN HIS WIFE'S NAME—A RETORT BY CURRAN—REMITTING A FINE—A CASE "ON ALL-FOURS"— "GOING OUT WITH THE TIDE."

As we well know, lawyers generally entertain an exceedingly exalted opinion of their profession. Textbooks, opinions of courts, addresses innumerable to graduating students, all bear witness to the fact that our noble profession is the most honorable of human callings, the safeguard of society, the palladium of our liberty.

True, some uncharitable layman has suggested: "Yes, all this, and more, has been said a thousand times, but always by lawyers."

There are persons yet in life, who, practically at least, hold with Aaron Burr, that "law is that which is boldly asserted and plausibly maintained," and that lawyers, like the Roman augurs of old, always smile when they meet one another on the street. The by no means exalted opinion of two men as to "our noble profession" will appear from the following.

A few days after Knott was admitted to the bar, he was sitting alone in his office, waiting for clients, when a one-gallowsed, awkward-looking fellow from the "brush" walked in without ceremony, dropped into the only vacant chair, and inquired: "Air you a lawyer, mister?" Assuming the manner of one of the regulars, Knott unhesitatingly answered that he was. "Well," said the visitor, "I thought I would drap in and git you to fetch a few suits for me." Picking up his pen with the air of a man with whom suing people was an everyday, matter-of-course sort of affair, Knott said: "Who did you wish to sue?" To which—with a prolonged yawn—the prospective client drawled out: "I ain't particular, Mister, I jest thought I'd get you to pick out a few skerry fellows that would complemise easy!"

The remaining incident is an experience of my own, when, at the age of twenty-two, I had hung out my sign in the then county-seat of Old Woodford.

My first client had retained me to obtain a divorce because of abandonment during the two years last past by the sometime partner of his joys and sorrows. The bill for divorce was duly filed; but on "the coming in of the answer," a continuance of the suit, for cause shown, was granted to the defendant.

At an early hour on the morning thereafter, my client called, and I soon discovered he was in a frame of mind by no means joyous. The disappointment he expressed at the continuance of his suit was evidently sincere. My explanation of the impossibility of preventing it, and the confident hope I held out that he would certainly get his divorce at the next term, evidently gave him little relief. He at length intimated a desire to have a confidential talk with me. I took him into my "private office" (that has a professional sound, but as a matter of fact my office had but one room, and that was "open as day" to everybody) and assured him that whatever he said to me would be in the strictest confidence. Feeling that I was on safe ground, I now spoke in a lofty tone of the sacred relation existing between counsel and client, and that any communication he desired to make would be as safe as within his own bosom, "or words to that effect." Relieved, apparently, by the atmosphere of profound secrecy that now enveloped us, he "unfolded himself" to the effect that some years before he had been deeply in love with an excellent young lady in his neighborhood, but for some trifling cause he could now hardly explain, he had in a pique suddenly turned his attentions to another to whom he was soon united in the holy bonds that he was now so anxious to have sundered by the strong arm of the law.

A deeply drawn sigh was here the prelude to the startling revelation, that since his present sea of troubles had encompassed him about the old flame had been rekindled in his heart. I now candidly informed him that I was wholly inexperienced in such matters, but as his counsel I would take the liberty to advise him of the monstrous impropriety of any visible manifestation or expression of the newly revived attachment. This was followed by the comforting assurance upon my part, however, that when divorced, he would be lawfully entitled to re-enter the matrimonial lists in such direction, and at whatever gait seemed to him best. The sigh to which the above was the prelude, hardly prepared me for the startling revelation that another fellow was now actually keeping company with the young lady. My client's feelings here overcame him for a moment, and he complained bitterly of his hard fate in being "tied up," while the coast was clear to his competitor. After a moment of deep study, he expressed the opinion in substance, that if his rival could only be held in check until the divorce was granted, he was confident all would be well.

I here told him that this was all beyond my depth, and along a line where it would be impossible for me to render him any service. Hitching his chair up a little closer, and looking at me earnestly he said: "You are a good-looking young fellow, and rather a glib talker, and I will give you this hundred dollars if you will cut that fellow out until I get my divorce!" Declining with some show of indignation, as well as surprise—for I was young then in the practice—I assured him that his proposal was out of the domain of professional service, and could not be thought of for a moment. In a tone indicating deep astonishment, he said: "Why, I thought a lawyer would do anything for money!"

"Yes," I replied, "most anything, but this is the exception; and besides, if the young lady is as beautiful as you say she is, you would be in greater danger from me at the end of your probation than from the other fellow." "Oh, Lord, I hadn't thought of that," he exclaimed, as he pocketed his hundred dollars, picked up his hat, and left my office.

Near the close of the following term of court, as the decree was being signed granting the divorce aforementioned, I approached my client as he sat solitary in the rear of the court-room, and earnestly congratulated him upon the fact that he was now free and at liberty to fight his own battles. "Yes," he replied, with a groan that touched the heart of the tipstaff near by, "but it's too late now; she married that other fellow last Thursday."

TAKEN BY SURPRISE

Upon a time, far back, Ballou, of happy memory, was Judge of the Woodford Circuit Court. A young lawyer, after diligent preparation and exhaustive argument, confidently submitted his first case to the tender mercies of the Court. To his utter dismay, His Honor promptly rendered a decision adverse to the contention of the youthful barrister. Deeply humiliated by his defeat, the latter exclaimed: "I am astonished at such a decision!" The admonition of a brother, to patience, failing to accomplish its charitable purpose, the irate attorney asservated more excitedly than before, his astonishment at such a decision. Whereupon the judge ordered the clerk to enter up a fine of five dollars against the offending attorney for contempt of court. Silence now reigned supreme, and the victim of judicial wrath sank back into his seat, utterly dismayed. The strain of the situation was at length relieved in part by an old lawyer from the opposite side of the trial table, slowly arising and solemnly remarking: "Something might be said, Your Honor, in extenuation of the conduct of my young friend. It is his first case, one in which he felt the deepest interest, and upon the successful issue of which, he had founded his fondest hopes. I trust Your Honor, upon due reflection, will remit this fine. It is true, he has with much vehemence expressed his astonishment at the decision of the Court. But his youth and inexperience must surely be taken into account. Ah, Your Honor, when our young brother has practised before this court as long as some of us have, he will not be surprised at any decision Your Honor may make!"

THE POINT OF THE JOKE

Sydney Smith is credited with saying that it required a surgical operation to get a joke into a Scotchman's head. And not a bad reply is that of the Scotchman: "Yes, an English joke."

It is unnecessary, however, to cross the Atlantic in order to find a few well authenticated cases where the surgical operation would have been required. The Hon. Samuel H. Treat, United States Judge of Southern Illinois, was one of the ablest and most upright of judges, and possibly—on or off the bench—the most solemn-appearing of all of the sons of men.

This little incident was related by Judge Weldon. Soon after the close of the War, he one day told Judge Treat a story he had heard upon a recent visit to Washington. McDougall, formerly of Illinois, but at that time a Senator from California, had become very dissipated near the close of his term. At a late hour one night a policeman on the Avenue found him in an utterly helpless condition—literally in the gutter. As the officer was making an ineffectual attempt to get the unfortunate statesman upon his feet, he inquired: "Who are you?" The reply was: "This morning I was Senator McDougall, but now I am Sewered!"

A few moments later Mr. Hay came into the office and Judge Treat said: "Hay, Weldon has just told me a good story about our old friend McDougall. Mac was in the gutter, and a policeman asked him who he was, and Mac told him, 'This morning I was Senator McDougall, but now I am the Hon. William H. Seward!'"

AN INCIDENT

Upon the occasion of the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the organization of the City of Bloomington, the oration was delivered by the Hon. James S. Ewing, late Minister to Belgium. In the course of his address, he related the following incident:

"In the early history of this county, two boys one day went into the old courthouse to hear a lawsuit tried. There were assembled eight young lawyers, not all of them engaged in the trial, but giving strict attention to the proceedings. It was not a suit of great importance.

"The Court was presided over by Samuel H. Treat, who afterwards became a United States District Judge and one of the most distinguished lawyers and jurists in the State.

"One of the lawyers was David Davis, first a noted lawyer, then a circuit judge, then a judge of the Supreme Court of the United States, then a United States Senator and acting President of the Senate; a citizen of State and national fame whom the people of Bloomington loved and delighted to honor.

"Another was John T. Stuart, a brilliant lawyer, several times a member of Congress, and one of the most lovable of men.

"Another one was David B. Campbell, then the prosecuting attorney and afterwards a prominent lawyer and citizen of Springfield.

"Another was Edward D. Baker, who was afterwards a United State Senator from Oregon; a famous orator who immortalized himself by his marvellous oration over Senator Broderick.

"Another was James A. McDougall, a brilliant Irishman, afterwards a United States Senator from the State of California.

"And Abraham Lincoln, who has passed beyond the domain of human praise into the pantheon of universal history.

"I might add that one of those boys afterwards became the Vice-President of the United States; and the other is your speaker.

"Speaking to any audience in America, I might say in the world, I doubt if such an incident could be truthfully related of any other gathering."

A JUDICIAL DECISION ON BAPTISM

It is rarely the case that a Court is called upon to decide questions of a purely theological character. Of necessity, however—property interests being involved,—controversies, measurably of a religious character, sometimes arise for judicial determination.

The case to be mentioned is probably the only one where "baptism"— the true mode and manner thereof—has ever come squarely before an American judge. A man under sentence of death for murder was awaiting execution in the jail of one of the counties in northern Kentucky. Under the ministrations of the pastor of the Baptist Church, the prisoner at length made "the good confession" and desired to be baptized. To this end, the faithful pastor applied to the circuit judge before whom the prisoner had been tried, for permission to have the rite observed in the Kentucky River near by. The judge—more deeply versed in "Blackstone" and "Ben Monroe" than in theological lore—declined to have the prisoner removed from the jail, but gave permission to have him baptized in the cell. The physical impossibility of the observance of the solemn rite in the prisoner's cell was at once explained. "Certainly," said the judge in reply, "I know there is no room in there to baptize him that way; but take a bowl of water and sprinkle him right where he is confined." "But," earnestly interposed the man of the sacred office, "our church does not recognize sprinkling as valid baptism. We hold immersion to be the only Scriptural method." "Is it possible?" exclaimed the judge, greatly surprised. "Well, this Court decides that sprinkling is valid baptism; and I tell you once for all, that that infernal scoundrel will be sprinkled, or he will be hung without being baptized at all!"