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The Celt at Niagara Falls.
BY T. D'ARCY M’OEE.
I
Beside Niagara’s awful ware
He stood—a ransomed Irish slave I
Helf-ransomed by a woful flight.
That robb’d bis Heaven of half its light,
And firing him in a nation free
A fettered slave 01 Memory.
11.
T ,■> Exile’s eyes strove not to rest
Upon ’ e Cataract’s curling crest.
Nor pin® '3 it upon the brilliant bow
Wh’ch bnn • the bluff below ;
The banks of -,~axnant to him
Were unsub* all and dim.
But from his gaze a ‘ hild had guessed
There raged a caturac. in his breast.
111.
A flag against the Northern sky
Alone engaced his e£e.
Upon Canadian soil it stood—
Its hue wa« that of human blood.
Ila red was crossed with pallid scare,
Pale, steely, stiff’as prison bare.
“ Oh, cursed flag !” the Exile said.
“ The air grows heavy on my head,
My blood leaps wilder than this water
On seeing thee, thou sign of slaughter,
Oh, may I never see my death
Till I behold the day ot wrath
When on thy squadron shall be poured
The vengeance Heaven so Jong has stored.”
IV.
Then turning to his friends, who had
Deemed him, torn sudden frenzy, mad—
“My friends,” he said_, “you little know
The fire yon re ’ flag kindles so ;
None but an Irish heart can tell
The thought that causeth mine to swell;
When I beho'd the fatal sign
That blighted the green land, once mine;
That stripped her of each gallant chief;
That scourged her for her bold belief;
That would have blotted out her name
Could England buy the Trump of Fame.
But, help us, Heaven, she never can
While lives one constant Irishman.”
He paused. No human voice replied ;
But with a mighty oath the tide
Beemed swearing, as it leaped and ran,
“.To.' no.' by Heaven! they never can
While lives one constant Irishman !”
After the Burial.
BY .'AMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
Yes. Faith is a goodly anchor;
When skies are sweet as a psalm,
At the bows it lolls s > stalwart
In bluff, broad-shouldered calm.
And when, over breakers to leeward,
The battered surges are hurled,
It may keep our head to the tempest,
With its grip on the base of the world.
But after the shipwreck, tell me
What help in.its iron thews,
Still true to the broken hawser,
Deep down among sea-weed and ooze ?
In the breaking gulfs of sorrow.
When the helpless feet stretch out,
And find in the deeps of darkness
No tooting so solid as doubt.
Then better one spar of memory,
One broken pla-.k of the past,
That our human heart may cling to,
Though hopeless of shore at last!
To the spirit its sple dl l conjectures,
To the flesh its sweet despair,
Its tears o’er the thin-worn locket
With its be.uty of deathless hair !
Immortal ? I feel it and know it;
Who doubts it of such as she ?
But that is ’he pang of the secret—
Immortal away from me 1
There’s a narrow ridge in the g-ave-yard,
Would scarce stay a child in his race;
But to me and my thought it is wider
Than the star-sown vague of the space.
Your log'c, my friend, is perfect,
Your mora's most dre ri.y true,
But the earth that stops my dm Ji ng’s ears
M .kes mine insensate too.
Console, it you w:T; I can b-ar it;
’Tie a well-meant alms of breath ;
But not all the preaching since Adam
Has made Death other than Death.
Communion in spirit? Forgive me,
But I, who am earthly and weak,
Would give all my incomes flora dreamiand
Fur her rose-leaf palm on ray cheek.
That little shoe in the corner,
f-o worn and wrinkled and brown—
Its motionless hojlew eofrutes you,
And argues your wisdom down.
[From the Atlantic Monthly, lor April.
The Clear Vision.
BY JOBS G. WHITTIER.
I did but dream. I never knew
What charms our sternest season wore.
Was never yet the sky so blue,
Was never earth so white before.
Till now I never saw the glow
Os sunset on yon hills of enow,
And never learned the boughs designs
Os beauty in its leafless lines.
Did ever such a morning break
As that my Eastern windows see ?
Did ever such a moonlight take
Wierd photogr .phs of shrub and tree ?
Rang ever bells so wild and fleet
The music of the winter street '<
Was ever yet a sound by half
Bo merry as yon schoolboy’s laugh ?
O Earth ! with gladness overfraught,
No added charm thy face hath found;
Within my heart the change is wrought,
My footsteps make enchanted ground.
From couch of pain and curtained room
Forth to thy light and air I come,
To find in all that meets my eyes
The freshness of a glad surprise.
Fair seem these winter days, and soon
Bhall blow the warm west winds of spring,
To set the unbound rills in tune,
And hither urge the bluebird’s wing.
The vales shall laugh"in flowers, the woods
Grow misty green with leafing beds,
And violets and windflowers sway
Against the throbbing heart of May.
Break forth, my lips, in praise, and own
The wiser love severely kind;
Since, richer for its chastening grown,
I see, whereas I once was bund.
The world, O, Father 1 bath not wronged
With loss the life by Thee prolonged;
But still with every added year,
More beautiful Thy works appear.
As Thou hast made Tby world without,
Make Thou wore fair rtiy world within ;
Bhine through its lingering clouds <f doubt;
Rebuke its haunting shapes of sin;
Fill, brief or long, my granted span
Os life with love to Thee and man ;
Strike when Thou wilt the hour of rest,
But let my last days be my best 1
r. Woman’s Heart.
FROM THE GERMAN.
God’s angels took a little drop of dew,
New fallen from the heaven’s far-off' blue,
And a fair violet of the valleys green,
Shedding its perfume in the moon’s.soft sheen,
And a forget-me-not so small and bright—
Laid altogether gently, out of sight,
Within the chalice of the lily white :
With humbleness and grace then covered it;
Made purity and sadness near to sit;
And added pride to this, and sighs a few,
One wish, but half a hope, and bright tears two;
—*■ Courage and sweetness in misfortune’s smart,
And out of this was moulded—woman’s heart I
Behind the Scenes-
Piquant Revelations by Mrs. Lincoln's
Colored Milliner Domestic Life at
the White House.
A book, entitled “ Behind tiie Scenes,”
has been published by George W. Carleton
& Co. The author is Mrs. Elizabeth Keck
ley, an American citizen of African descent,
for thirty years a slave, subsequently
modiste for Airs. Jefferson Davis, and for
four years an inmate of the White House,
and Airs. Lincoln’s “ next friend.” The
chapters of this book are entitled as follows:
“Girlhood and its Sorrows,” “ In the Family
of Jefferson Davis as Airs. D.’s confidential
servant, - ’ “ Aly Introduction to Airs. Lin
coln,” “ Behind the Scenes,” “ The Assassi
nation of Mr. Lincoln,” “ Secret History of
Mrs. Lincoln’s Wardrobe in New York,”
etc.
Mrs. Keckley has told her story plainly
and clearly, and with sufficient piquancy.
Airs. Lincoln speaks her mind freely in the
book, and occasionally criticizes very
sharply some persons in whom she has
evidently lost confidence. Upon reading
the book with considerable care, says the
New York Commercial Advertiser, we are
sure that the strictures of this paper upon
the sale of Airs. Lincoln's wardrobe were
amply deserved, and that the half has not
been told in regard to this woman. She
discloses her character in this book most
freely.
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS ONE OF MRS. LINCOLN’S
EARLY LOVERS.
Airs. Keckley relates that Airs. Lincoln,
from her earliest childhood, was convinced
that she would be the wife of a President.
When a young lady, she was, says the book,
courted by Air. Lincoln and Air. Douglas.
The latter offered himself to her and was
discarded. He pressed his suit more bold
ly ■
“ Mary, do you know what you are re
fusing? You have always had an ambition
to become the wife of a President of the
United States. Pardon the egotism, but I
fear that in refusing my hand to-night you
have thrown away your best chance to
ever rule in the White House.”
“ I do not understand you, Air. Douglas.”
“ Then I -will speak more plainly. You
know, Alary, I am ambitious like yourself,
and something seems to whisper in my ear,
‘ You will be President some day.’ Depend
upon it, I shall make a stubborn fight to
win the proud position.”
“ You have my best wishes, Air. Douglas,
still I cannot consent to be your wife. I
shall become Airs. President, or I am the
victim of false prophets, but it will not be
Airs. Douglas.”
I have this little chapter in a romantic
history from the lips of Airs. Lincoln her
self.
At one of the receptions at the White
House, shortly after the first inauguration,
Mrs. Lincoln joined in the promenade with
Senator Douglas. He was holding a bou
quet that had been presented to her, and as
they moved along he said :
“ Alary, it reminds me of old times to
have you lean upon ray arm.”
“ You refer to the days of our youth. I
must do you the credit, Air. Douglas, to
say that you were a gallant beau. - ’
“ Not only a beau but a lover. Do you
remember the night our flirtation was
brought to an end ?”
“Distinctly. You now see that I was
right. lam Airs. President, but not Airs.
Douglas.”
“ True, you have reached the goal before
me, but Ido not despair. Mrs. Douglas—
a nobler woman does not live—if I am
spared, may possibly succeed you as Airs.!
President.”
Airs. Keckley then describes the love
making of Air. Lincoln, his rejection, his
despair and his final acceptance by Aliss
Todd. The Herndon story is spoken of as
“ a pleasant piece of fiction.” The whole
affair, as related in this book, is an illustra
tion of the delicacy of the parties engaged
in the work.
MRS. LINCOLN AT THE WHITE HOUSE.
Passing over a vast amount of other mat
ter, we come to the campaign of 1864, and
Mrs. Lincoln’s peculiar method of conduct
ing it.
In 1864 much doubt existed tn regard to
the re-election of Mr. Lincoln, and the
White House was besieged by all grades of
politicians. Airs. Lincoln was often blamed
for having a certain ciass of men around
her.
“ I have an object in view, Lizabeth,” she
said to me in reference to this matter. “In
a political canvass it is policy to cultivate
every element of strength. These men have
influence, and we require influence to re-elect
Mr. Lincoln. I will be clever to them until
after the election, and then, if we remain at
the White House, I will drop every one of
them, and let them know very plainly that
I only made tools of them. They are an !
unprincipled set, and I don’t mind a little j
double dealing with them.”
“Does Air. Lincoln know what your |
purpose is ?” I asked.
“God, no ; he would never sanction such ■
a proceeding ; so I keep him in the dark,
and will tell him of it when all is over.”
Mrs. Lincoln was extremely anxious that
her husband should be re-elected President
of the United States. In endeavoring to
make a display becoming her exalted I
position, she had to incur many expenses. |
Mr. Lincoln’s salary was inadequate to
meet them, and she was forced to run in
debt, hoping that good fortune would favor
her, and enable her to extricate herself
from an embarrassing situation. She bought
the most expensive goods on credit, and in
the summer of 1864 enormous unpaid bills
stared her in the face.
MRS. LINCOLN'S DEBTS.
Airs. Lincoln has a long conversation
with Mrs. Keckley in regard to her debts,
and her plans for meeting their payment.
We quote :
“ I owe altogether about $27,000; the
principal portion at Stewart’s, in New
York. You understand, Lizabeth, that
Mr. Lincoln has but little idea of the ex
pense of a woman’s wardrobe. He glances
at my rich dresses, and is happy in the be
lief tint the few hundred dollars that I ob
tain from him supply all my wants. I must
dress in costly materials. The people scru
tinize every article that I wear with critical
curiosity. The very fact of having grown
up in the West subjects me to more search
ing observation. To keep up appearances,
I must have money, more than Mr. Lincoln
can spare. He is too honest to make a
penny outside of his salary; consequently
I had, and still have, no alternative but to
run in debt.”
AU JUS FA, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, MAY 6, 1868.
“ And Air. Lincoln does not even suspect
how muc.i you owe?”
“ God, no" I”—this was a favorite expres
sion of hers—“ and I would not have him
suspect. If he knew that his wife was in
volved to the extent she is, the knowledge
would drive him mad. He is so sincere
and straightforward himself that he is
shocked by the duplicity of others. He
does not know a thing about any debts,
and I value his happiness, not to speak of
my own, too much to allow him to know
anything This is what troubles me so
much. If he is re-elected I can keep him
in ignorance of my affairs; but if he is de
feated then the bills will be sent in, and he
will know alland something like a hys
terical sob escaped her.
Airs. Lincoln sometimes feared that the
politicians would get hold of the particu
lars of her debts, and use them in the Pres
idential campaign against her husband,
and when the thought occurred to her she
was almost crazy with anxiety and fear. - -.
When in one of these excited moods she
would fiercely exclaim:
“The Republican politicians must pay
my debts. Hundreds of them are getting
immensely rich off the patronage of my
husband, and it is but fair that they should
help me out of my embarrassment. I will
make a demand of them, and when I tell
them the facts they cannot refuse to ad
vance whatever money I require.”
A piquant chapter is that upon the exhi
bition and sale of the wardrobe. All the
correspondence is given in full, and the
whole disgraceful affair is paraded at
length.
An Incident in a Temperance Convention.
A Harrisburg, Pa., paper relates the fol
lowing incident which occurred at the late
Temperance Convention held in that city :
During the session of Wednesday morn
ing, a black woman, whose hair was white
and eyes dim with the ravages of seventy
years, sat among the audience. With body
bent forward, clasping hands, and eyes
riveted upon the speaker, she seemed a
model of absorbed attention. A lady en
tering and sitting down by her, the follow
ing conversation ensued :
“ Dat is a fine preacher, ma’am. What
his name and what he talkin’ 'bout ?”
“ He is explaining what kind of wine the
people who lived in Bible times drank.”
“He good nreacher. What you say his
name is ?”
“ Dr. Junken. He is the father-in-law of
Stonewall Jackson.”
“ Alassa Lord ! Stonewall Jackson’s
fader ! Stonewall what used to come to
Martinsburg wen I libed dar in de war time
and peddle eggs in de camps jes for spy !
He looks jes like him—he does. Oh ! wish
dat flag up dar would fall down an’ crush
him all up,” and her bleared eyes flashed.
“Oh ! Aunty ! This gentleman is a i
Union man, always was, and is a good i
Christian.”
This satisfied her, and another gentleman
soon after taking the floor, her attention
was diverted. The speaker made some de
nunciatory remarks upon intemperance
which elicited lively applause. Aunty
stamped her feet and chipped her hands,
shouting loudly :
“ Bress de Lord! Glory be to Jesus !”
“ Why, Aunty ! What kind of a meeting i
do you think this is?” asked the lady.
“ Dun no, child; some kind of camp
meeting, I guess ; it’s nice anyhow.”
“This is a Temperance Convention not a
church meeting.”
“ Tem’pance ; what makes folks broke de
Sabbath, and sens wimmens drunk on
wheelbars to jail! Oh! I wish de good
Lord would scrush tem’pance; I’se got
fifteen years’ wages owin’ me; I’d gib de
has of’t jis to help scrush te n’pance.”
“ Where did you live, Aunty ?”
“ Don in Aler’land, honey. Was a slave
fifty years or more.”
“ How old are you now, Aunty?”
Here her face grew very wise-looking, as
she answered in a whisper:
“I’se jis thirty-six—no; I war thirty-six
when John Brown came fust, dat was
eight years ago.”
“ Then you are now forty-four • yon look
older than that, Aunty.”
“ Well, chile, you see, I can’t git as ole as
I ought’er be, ka.se dey’s got my age in de
Bible down in Aler’land ; but it ain’t ’spect
ful to talk in meetin’, and if you’ll scuse me
I’ll scuse you.”
When the meeting adjourned she was the
very last to leave, peering through the
crowd to get a good look at the venerable
form of the worthy Dr. Junkin.
Silent Influence. —The Rev. Albert
Barnessays: “It is the bubbling stream
that flows gently; the little rivulet which j
runs along day and night by the farm house,
that is useful, rather than the swollen flood
or warring cataract. Niagara excites our
wonder, and we stand amazed at the power
and greatness of God there, as he pours it
from the hollow of His hand. But one
Niagara is enough for the continent or the
world, while the same world requires thou
sands and tens of thousands of silver foun
tains and gentle flowing rivulets that water
every farm and meadow, and every garden,
and shall flow on every day and night with
their gentle, quiet beauty. So with the acts
of our lives. It is not by great deeds, like
those of the martyrs, good is to be done,
but by the daily and quiet virtues of life,
the Christian temper, the good qualities of
relatives and friends.”
The Ballet.—The Pall Mall Gazette speaks
of the decline of the ballet in England. In the
days ot Cerito and Taglioni there was some
thing like an artistic ballet; but now it has de
generated to a matter of sensuality. “ Dancing
| has. sunk into a mere affair of half-naked pos
turing. Girls are engaged solely for their
beauty ; and their costume is of the flimsiest
and scantiest, in order that that beauty- (what
ever its worth) may be liberally displayed.—
The managers pick up pretty girls without any
qualifications beyond their good looks for two
or three shillings a night. The degradation
which can hardly fail to accompany a con
sciousness of the shameless exhibition for
which they are hired, and the paltriness of
their pay, combine to produce results which,
considering the temptations of their position,
need no demonstration.” This is severe lan
guage, but the facts which are given amply
justify it. In the United States, during the
last year or two, we have had a rank and rapid
growth of the ballet. Latterly, it has evidently
reached its turning point. In some of the
smaller cities, especially, its exhibitions have
been gross and demoralizing. Neither the
public taste nor the public sense of decency
will suffer by the disappearance of its vulgari
ties.—JN. Y. Times.
How "Free” Negro Labor Affects the White
Laborer.
REMARKS OFMR.B. E. GREEN IN THE NATIONAL
LABOR CONGRESS AT CHICAGO, AUG. 24,
Mr. Phelps, of Connecticut, Chairman of the
Committee on Negro Labor, reported that, in
asmuch as there was much -prejudice and very
little information on the subject, the commit
tee thought that it had better not he discussed
now, but laid over for the consideration of the
Congress, which will meet next year (1868, 3d
Monday in August, in New York city.) Mr.
Harding, President of the International Coach
Makers’Union, said that he thought the con
sideration of this subject had already been post
poned too long. Mr. Ben. E. Green, delegate
from the Pettern Makers’ Union of Baltimore,
Md., said:
“I agree with Mr. Harding that the conside
ration of this question has already been delay
ed too.long, and with the Chairman of the Com
mittee, that there is much prejudice and very
little information. I go farther. What little
information there is among the workingmen of
the North and West on the subject is false in
formation. lam a Southern man and repre
sent a Southern constituency. I have studied
this question thoroughly, with unusual oppor
tunities for understanding it. My attention
was called to it early in life—when I was in
Mexico—by the contrast between th 3 system of
Peon labor there, and the system of Negro
slave labor in the Southern States. Seventeen
years ago, I visited the British, French and
Danish West India Islands, where emancipa
tion had then recently taken place, with the
special purpose of looking into its results. I
wish to lay before you some facts and give you
some correct information. Heretofore you
have been misled and grossly deceived. The
New York Tribune and other Radical newspa
pers say, and have succeeded in making many
of you believe, that in its Southern aspect the
late war was the * slaveholders’ rebellion.’ It
was no such thing. It was the poor white non
slaveholdiug workingmen’s war—the war of
the white mechanic, laborer, small farmer and
cropper—to protect themselves and their wages
from the competition of the cheaper labor of
the negro, who makes up by stealth and petty
larceny what he lacks in wages.
“A few undeniable facts will satisfy you that
I am right. First, the slaveholders were a
very small minority of the white population in
the South ; less than half a million in a white
population of eight millions, or less than 1 in
16. Another general fact, which no one can
deny, is that the property holders are always
averse to war and revolutionary measures
which endanger property, and the special fact
is undeniable that the slaveholders, as a class,
were actively opposed to secession, which
brought on the war; because, apart from the
general risk to all property in times of war,
this special property was subjected to a special
risk, in that it had legs and a will of its own to
take itself off. Therefore, the slaveholders, as
a class, threw their whole influence against se
cession. They preferred to contend~for their
rights in the Union and at the ballot box, and
to rely on the Senate and the Supreme Court,
and on their natural allies, the Democracy—the
workingmen—of the North.
“It is true that some of the leaders of the
secession movement in the South were the own
ers of slaves ■ but they were not the represent
ative men of the slaveholding class. Their per
sonal interest in the system was small, and
their appeals were made, not to the slavehold
ers, but to the non-slavebolders. The ablest,
most active and untiring advocate of secession
was Gov. Joseph E. Brown, of my own State,
Georgia. He did more to carry the pon-slave
holders with him, and by their vast prepon
derance of more than 16 to 1, to force the
small minority of slaveholders into secession,
than all the Southern leaders united. His ar
gument was this. He said :
“‘ If Mr. Lincoln is elected, the Abolition
party will come into power, pledged and deter
mined to abolish slavery, and to make the ne
gro the equal, socially and politically, of the
poor whites. What will be the results ?
“ ‘ The Constitution recognizes slaves as pri
vate property, and provides that private pro
perty sba.'l not be taken for public use without
just compensation. Abolish slavery, and the
first result will be that you, mechanics, labor
ers and small farmers, will be taxed to pay for
them. |
“ ‘ The next will be a reduction of your wages '
and of the value of the products of your labor.
The slaveholders, said Gov. Brown, are also the
land owners, and they own the bank and rail
road stocks. They will still be able to provide
for their families. It will not be they or their
children, but it will be you and your sons and
daughters, who will have to compete with the
negro for employment, and whose wages will
be reduced by that competition.
“ 1 But not only will the price of your labor
be reduced, but your social*status and that of
your children will be degraded. Theorists and
fanatics may talk about equality, but wealth
will always and everywhere produce a social
inequality. The emancipated negroes will not
think of intruding into the well furnished par
lors of their late masters; hut they will force
themselves to the humble fireside of the poor
white mechanic and farmer, to insult them anl
their families by demanding their daughters in
marriage.’ ”
[A delegate here raised a point of order that
Mr. Green was not speaking to the question.]
" Mr. President and gentlemen, what is the
question you have submitted to this commit
tee? Was it not to report what would be the
effect on the wages of the working men of the
North of this emancipated negro labor; of their
abandoning the production of cotton, which is
the corner-stone of the profitable employment
of so many of those whom you represent; of
their laying down the shovel and the hoe, and
ceasing to cultivate the agricultural products
of the South, which your resolutions at Balti
more last year declared to be of vital import
ance to the workingmen of the North; of
then crowding into Southern towns and vil
lages, and coming North, to set up as jack-leg
mechanics, to underwork and underbid you,
making up, as I have said, by stealth and petty
larceny, the difference in wages? Was it not
to report on what will be the effect upon the
social status of your constituents of declaring
that this inferior and degraded race—not de
graded by having been slaves, for by that they
have been elevated and christianized and semi
civilized, but degraded by their own nature
and instincts ; was not this committee appoint
ed expressly to report what will be the effect
on the social status of the laboring classes of
the North, of making this degraded race your
equals, entitled to sit by you in the cars* and
churches and all places ot public resort, and to
send their children to sit on the same forms at
school as the equals of your children, and enti
tled—for it follows as a necessary consequence
of this doctrine of negro equality—to marry
your sons and daughters ? Mr. President, my
remarks go directly to the question brought
before you by the report of the committee. I
present it in the light in which it was viewed
by the white workingmen of the South, when
they forced the reluctant slaveholders into the
war, and fought it through four long years of
suffering and self-denial, with a courage and
determination and againstjodds almost unpar
alleled in the history of the world. No, gen
tlemen, neither iu its inception nor in its pro
secution, can the late war be truthfully said to
have been the Slaveholders’ Rebellion. It was
the poor white man’s war; the mechanics, the
woikingmen’s war, and they fought it with
stubborn obstinacy, because they were unwill
ing to have the price of their labor reduced or
their families degraded oy this false doctrine
that a negro is as good, if not a little better,
than a white mechanic. It was in vain that the
slaveholders, as a cliss and with .xjue excep-
tions, threw their whole weight against seces
sion. Iu vain they urged that Mr. Lincoln, in
his speeches at Columbus and Cincinnati, and
on many other occasions, had unequivocally
declared himself in opposition to negro equali
ty and negro suffrage. In vain they pointed to
the Senate and to the Supreme Court, to the
Democracy, the workingmen of the North, and
to the Constitution, as safeguards and insuper
able barriers to the degradation which the non
slaveholders feared was intended for them.
“ Led on by Gov. Brown and excited by his
arguments, which 1 have briefly stated, the non
slaveholders swept the few and reluctant slave
holders into the vortex of secession. Then in
deed the slaveholders displayed as much cour
age and determination to fight it out as the non
slaveholders, and when they found it necessary,
they, with rare exceptions, urged the policy of
putting the negroes into the armv as the only
alternative against defeat. But tne non-slave
holding poor whites recoiled from and re
jected the proposition, and as the entering
wedge of that very odious doctrine of negro
equality against which they had rushed to arms,
and their opposition prevented its adoption
until it was too late.”
[The speaker’s time having expired, cries of
“ Go on, go on, we want to hear you,” and
the rules were suspended to allow him to con
tinue.]
“ This is no place for long speeches. You
are on expenses here and losing wages at home.
I therefore come at once to the point. Why
are you here ? Is it not because you are so
crushed down beneath the heavy taxes and ex
travagance of the Radical party now in power,
that you can scarce keep body and soul
together ? And wbat are the remedies pro
posed ? A favorite measure is the eight hour
law. And what will be its effects ? For a
while the few, who are employed on Govern
ment works, may not find their wages reduced.
But very soon the governments, State and Gen
eral, will conform their rate of wages to the
prices paid by private employers, and the latter
will say 1 very well, you reduce by law the
hours of labor, I reduce prices in the same pro
portion. Where I paid $1 00 for ten hours’
labor, I will pay 80 cents for eight hours.
You, who are so borne down by taxes on every
thing you use, down to the match with which
you light your fire ; I ask you, who can’t feed
and clothe your children by working ten hours
and getting a dollar, how much better will you
be off, when you work only eight hours and get
only 80 cents ? This question of time does not
go to the root of the evils under which you labor.
They arise from unequal, partial, class legisla
tion, from legislation, at the expense of the
great industrial masses, who pay the taxes, for
the benefit of those who live by the taxes, and
of the negro, by whose votes these last propose
to lay new burdens on you. And yet I have
heard many, who are asking for an eight hour
law, say that this organization should have
nothing to do with politics or political parties.
How can you get even the so much desired
eight hour law without legislation, and how can
you get legislation without making your influ
ence to be felt by the political parties and poli
ticians who make the laws ?
“ There is not time to review the legislation
of this Government; but I ask you, when you
go home, to take it up and examine it lor your
selves. You will find that from the founda
tions of the Government down to the begin--
ning of the late war, the South always voted in
solid column with the workingmen, and indus
trial classes of the North oil every measure of
government that tended to keep up the value
of labor and the price of wages, and to keep
down the cost of living. And why was this ?
The South did not act from false and hypocrit
ical pretences of a mock philanthropy. The
fact is that the much-abused system of slavery
had the effect of identifying the interests of the
slaveholders with those of all white working
men both at the South and at the North, and
though they were comparatively few in num
bers, their influence was exerted and felt in the
dissemination ot correct political information
through stump speeches, which, as well as
slavery, were a peculiar institution at the South.
By this peculiar institution the poor whites of
the South were better informed and better post
ed on political subjects than the same class in
the North. The secret of the sympathy of
feeling between the slaveholding and non
slavcho'ding whites of the South is to be
found in the fact that the slaveholder was the
owner of daily labor, and directly inter ested in
keeping up the price of wages and the value of
the products of labor, unimpaired by unequal
or class legislation. He bad to feed ana clothe
and otherwise support that laborer, and he was
therefore directly and personally interested in
keeping down the cost of living, unenhanced
by taxes imposed for the benefit of a few favor
ed individuals and’privileged classes.
“ A few words more. Have you reflected on
what will be the effect of the Reconstruction
Act of Congress ? The effect will be to bring
back the little State of Florida, controlled by
some 25,000 or 30,000 ignorant negroes, with
two Senators in Congress to neutralize the i
votes oi the two Senators from this great State
of Illinois, and with as much voice in laying i
taxes on your labor and on your property. It
will bring back ten Southern States, with
twenty Senators, representing only some 2,000,-
000 of lazy, ignorant negroes ; supported by
that great negro-trading monopoly, the Freed
men's Bureau, and controlled by the party o.
tax consumers, of national banks, and other
privileged and favored classes. Against them
the great States of Illinois, Ohio, New York
and Pennsylvania, with their 10,000,000 ot
white inhabitants, can only oppose eight Sena
tors. They, on whom the taxes must fall, to
support these privileged classes, including the
negroes themselves and their Bureau; you, me
chanics and farmers of the great States I have
mentioned, will be out-voted in the Senate in
the proportion of twenty Senators to eight on
every question of taxing you to support them,
and in the election of those Senators, one idle,
lazy, vagabond negro in the South will weigh
as much as ten hard working, industrious me
chanics in the North and East, or as many in
telligent farmers in the West.”
—MO -»
Radical Falsehoods.-—We have read in the
State Sentinel that the editor of this paper (who
is now absent from his post on business) mur
dered in cold blood, with a bowie knife, an
unoffending negro on the streets of Tusca
loosa—t.bat Allen Williams, an honest freed
man, and guilty of no crime, was kidnapped
and whipped by “Ku Kluxes,” and only es
caped assassination by the interference of
timely aid.
We will simply state wherein these reports
are false. The facts are these : Mr. Randolph,
the editor ot this paper, accidently saw a negro
make an unprovoked assault, with a bludgeon,
upon a defenseless white man who was in an
altercation with another negro, and in going
to the rescue of the white man, Mr. R. was
himself attacked, and simply used such means
as he found convenient to chastise and disable
the insolent rascal that had stricken him with
a bludgeon. No bowie knife was used, and
the negro is now well, though he richly de
served death.
Allen Williams is a negro of notoriously bad
character, and was known when a slave as the
most expert thief in the country. He was re
cently taken out and chastised, according to
the slavery standard, (as we are informed,) for
having offered impertinence to respectable
white ladies. No one went to his assistance,
and the rascal yas left tied to a tree in the bone
yard.— Tuscaloosa Monitor.
Forney is exceeding wroth because the name
of Lincoln street In Baltimore has been changed
to Battery avenue. It was done on the anni
versary of the assassination.
VOL. 27. NO. 19
[From the New York Tribune, April 18.
The White Fawn.
“A COUNTRY MERCHANT” SEES IT, AND IS
SHOCKED—HE DESCRIBES THE PERFORM
ANCE, AND INDULGES IN SOME WHOLESOME
COMMENTS THEREON.
The curtain rose at eight and dropped at
eleven o’clock, and for three long hours a large
and apparently respectable audience witnessed
the scenes that were presented with profound
attention. I was surprised to note so little ap
plause, for, though the spectacle is confessedly
popular, and had already been presented over
sixty nights, on'y a few manifested outward
pleasure, and the people sat hour after hour
perfectly quiet, gazing at those dancers, and
seeming to me either fascinated or amazed. 1
remember very well that long ago, when La
Bayadere was played in St. Louie, the applause,
if such It could be called, was more astonish
ing than anything I had ever heard. To a great
extent the audience was composed of mer
chants. bar-ffeepers, and river men, with a fair
proportion of ladies. When the female dancers
began to expose their persons, the applause
consisted oi storms of claps and stampings;
but when the exposure increased, and reached
its full extent, though not to as great a degree
ae the White Fawn, a series of screams and
yells arose so loud, so terrific and unearthly,
that they seemed to come from infuriated crea
!u re !’-^ ot ' from . humau beings. I can explain
the difference in no other way than by sup
posing the New York audience so refined, and
perhaps so religious, as not to permit itself to
be carried away.
These dancing women, as may be supposed,
are as gpod looking as can be obtained. They
are generally young, and, if old, such arts as
are known to make them look young are used.
Their dress can be described in a few words.
It is fastened to the lower point of the shoulder
by a narrow band ; it crosses behind along the
middle of the shoulder blades; in front across
the middle of the breast; it extends nearly
twelve inches below the hip-joints, and the arm’s
are bare. The lower limbs seem tightly cover
ed with a thin flesh-colored fabric, and this is
met at the base of the body by a garment of
some kind of illusion goods, similar to what
we used to sell for Grecian lace, lying in layers
or puffs, and totally concealing al) that part ot
the body. The feet are elegantly and lightly
clad. The dancing is mostly confined to mak
ing a display of the lower limbs, and a common
and often repeated posture is to stand on one
limb and to raise the other so as to form of the
two a right angle. The latest improvement in
this school of art and high culture requires a
male assistant, who receives the dancer, in the
midst of her dancing, upon some part of his
person, so that her head and shoulders will be
downward and fronting, or sideways to the
audience, while her feet are in such a position
that the illusion goods are displayed. One
great feat is to have two at one time hang over
his shoulders, or he, and several other dancers,
combine, to obtain positions that will give va
riety to the display. If this description is im
perfect, I am certain that many of your readers
will be able to correct me.
A friend has furnished me a glass for the
occasion, which, though not much dissimilar to
those iu fashionable hands, was made for an
other purpose, was of great power, and I could
see which of the dancers were powdered,
which had painted carmine lips, and which
were padded. It was so powerful that what to
most others appeared as charming faces showed
me anxious and distressful eyes, and for the
second time in my life I learned that a woman
may have the most enchanting smile on het
lips while her heart is sinking with despair.—
As the hours passed one exposure was followed
by another, and, if possible, by a new one.—
The gaze of the spectator became rigid, each
sat like a statue, and tired nature found relief
in long drawn, fluttering sigh®. It was about
an hour before the continued repetition began
to have much effect, which was marked by
each eeasing to whisper or to smile. Evi
dently there was a determination to show no
emotion, and to the last to gaze unmoved.
But sgme are so constituted that, whatever
may be their culture and refinement, they do
not have this power, for these insensibly relax;
each new exhibition was an assault upon an
exposed and crumbling fortress, and, as such
applause as arose at St. Louis was suppressed,
the nerves alone could give an expression.
Every man who goes to such a place at once
looks to the ladies in the. audience, for he won
ders what it is that can be attractive to their
eyes. To every man the first sight is repulsive,
audit can be no less so to a woman. The
change in the mind seems to come gradually
and by a process similar to acquiring a liking
for unnatural, or even disgusting stimulants.
We know a little, but perhaps enough, of mag
netic influences, and it is not improbable that a
woman’s ideas in such a place are second hand.
In casting my glass around the audience, near
the close of one of the most noted displays, I
saw several ladies with trembling lips, but'lm a
moment they assumed their accustomed firm
ness, Finally, with little beauty and less mean
ing, with a confusion of fern leaves, a reclining
of partly nude figures, of Ascending and de
scending designs, and amidst a gleaming and
glare of various colored lights, the curtain fell
on the infamous scene. Half stifled by the
close air, choked and partly benumbed, the
audience slid away like a guilty throng, many
huskily remarking to others upon the splendor
of the closing view.
One of my impressions on beholding so
many young women capable of adorning so
ciety, and being made happy, yet so lost to
shame, was that they felt it would be a greater
shame to earn an honest living, or that they
had sought it in vain. Turning to the audi
ence, I could not help thinking that each had a
poor opinion of each. The lady coining in
with a gentleman either had been cold to her
husband, or had left him, or was in a fairway
to leave him, or she had never been married
but had better be ; that gentleman, bringin o * a
lady whose train swept the aisles, had other
claims far away, or his domestic life was fever
ish and unhappy ; and the young men, coming
by themselves, had come to lay the foundation
for domestic infidelity, and for a waste of op
portunities and means. The saddest sight was
in the young couples, with rosy cheeks and
hopeful eyes. How many sittings are required
to corrupt a young girl I do not know ; but 1
felt that no place can equal this for debauching
the soul, and that when a girl, at last, is de
lighted with these scenes, her day of ruin can
not be far away. For, before one comes to ad
mire these things, the finest sensibilities must
be shocked beyond expression, and modesty—
that especial jewel of the human soul—must be
degraded to the dust. To sit in that place,
hour after hour, calls into being such a feeling
as never arises in any intercourse between
those who love, and who hope to*be united, or
between those who have been united lono-, -
and it is unknown in any other condition of
life. I would liken it to a mephitic vapor from
the sea of torment and death, which finds an
unguarded entrance to the soul, and wanders
from cell to cell in the remote and profound
depths of our being, till, at last, it comes into
time and the present, and grapples with all the
sweet charities of the heart.
Social Anomalies.—The more a woman un
dresses herself the more she is supposed to be
dressed.
The gayer the festive occasion, the blacker is
man’s apparel.
The louder the company, the stiller the cham
pagne.
The dearer the hands, the dirtier the treach
ery.
The slower the acquaintance, the faster the
friendship.