IllV o l u m e xx i. Helena, Montana, Thursday, April 7, 1887. No. 19

T H E G R E A T P R E A C H E R .

LIFE

R. E. FISK D. W . F IS K . ft. J . F IS KPublisher» nnd Proprietors.

Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana

AND DEATH OF REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER.

Rates of Subscription.WEEKLY HERALD:

O ne Y ear. ( I n a i l v a n w ) ....................................S3 00S ir M on ths, (in ad v a n c e ) ....................................... 1 75T h re e M on ths, (in a d v a n c e ) ............................... 1 00

W hen n o t p a id for in a d v a n c e th e r a 'e w ill be F ou r D olla rs p e ry e a H

i'o s taK e , in a ll cases Prépaie».

DAILY HERALD:City S u h sc rih ers ,d e liv e red by c a r r ie r Ç1.00a m o n thO ne Y ear, by m a il, (in a d v a n c e ) ..................... SO 00Six M onths,"by m a il, (in a d v a n c e ) .................. 5 00T h re e M on th s , by m a il, (in a d v a n c e ) ............. 2 30

If no t p a id in ad v a n ce , 812 p e r a n n u m .

• # - A l l c o m m u n ic a tio n s sh o u ld he a d d re ss e d to K1SK KROH., P ublisher!],

H e le n a , M on tana .

B i s E a r ly .S tr u g g le s « •D e v e lo p m e n t o f H is

J .ib e r a l V ie w s o n R e l ig io u s M a tte r s .

* T h e B r o o k ly n S c a n d a l—G e n e r a l R e v ie w

J ® f a Most E v e n t f u l C a reer .W

Henry Ward Beecher, whose death and funeral services have lately drawn tl e atten- 1 ion of the country, inherited front his parents, Lyman and Roxana Foote Beecher, the two greatest blessings of an earthly nature—a perfectly sound body and a cheerful dispo­sition. It was remarked from the start that in body, mind and disposition he was almost a perfect blending of both parents, while his nine brothers and sisters—for it W as truly a patriarchal

II HK N D 1E .

My lady's name? Would’»! thou know?S he lives iiiiio iik t h e m y rtle shadow »*.

W h e re th e lu s tro u s ja sm in e s blow T h e ir go ld ac ro ss th e S o u th e rn m eadow s.

Iu th e c r 'in s o n tru m p e t tw in in g .In th e p o p p y ’s s lu m b ro u s sp len d o r.

In th e In d ia n li ly 's lin in g .In th e sw e e t b lu sh ro ses te n d e r ,

In th e pass io n flo w ers » -g loom ing ,'M id th e a ro m a tic p in es.

T h e re sh e d w e lls am id th e b lo o m in g T a n g le s o f th e fo res t v ines.

K n o w ’st h e r not " H e r fo o ts tep s fa in tly D en t th e tx-ryl c ru s te d g rass .

As she m u rm u rs , sm ilin g q u a in t ly ,“ I am L o v e ; oh , let m e pass.

I h av e w a ited d o w n th e d rea m w ay » .In th e e th e r m is ts a-h ro o d in g .

K e e p in g o u t am o n g th e g leam w ays, H a lf-a llu r in g , h a lf-e lu d in g .

“ M eet m e d o w n th e S o u th e rn m ead o w s,< .« m ined w ith h e r \ Is from above ,

W ait 1 in th e v e lv e t shadow s,D o w ered by a n g e ls—I am L ove .”

\ \ H O K N O W S Î

W h o o f us k n o w H ow o u r n e x t n e ig h b o r fa re s ?H ow o f th e wroes an il m a n y ea res T h a t r ise lik e m o u n ta in s in th e ir w ay .u n i w h o o f us can sayW e k n o w o f th a t la rg e w o rld w e n e v e r see , T h e w o rld o f p o v e rty .

W h o o f iu* k n o wH ow m uch o f p a in a sm ilin g face conceals .H ow li t t le o f th e su n lig lit e v e r s tea lsIn to th e liv es o f th o se w ho seem th e h a p p ie s t?T h e o n e w ho m a k e s us m e rry w ith h is je s t ,M ay h e no t c a rry in h is h e a r t so free A w o und he does n o t w ish th e w o rld to see?

W ho o f us love.A nd lov ing , ch e r ish b u t th e e m p ty n a m e .A nd feed o u r hea< ts o n n a u g h t : th e flam e T h a t b u rn s so b r il lia n t a n d so b r ig h t T h a t lig h ts o u r p a th as do th e s ta i s a t n igh t. G oes o u t as q u ick as h e a v e n 's lig h tn in g flashes. A m i leav es u s—a sh e s?

II GENTLE SPRING.”

Agxln the vernal equinox is drawing near a focus. And the bullfrog auti the blizzard will trade

places in the bog;\nd the crocus and the locust will begin their

hocus-pocus.And the gentle goddess Ceres will be lying round

incog.Soon again the prurient poets, both facetious and

factitious.Will assail spring's specious splendor with their

“ rotten-rot ” most rude;Soon again the giddy gusher will assume an air

most vicious.And again by her enchantment every dude will

be subdued.Soon bluff Imrcas, so bitter, will give birds a show

to twitter,And the land« will take occasion, as girls often

do, to skip.And the soda fountain fellows, in their sleeves,

will slyly titter.As we ante up our nickels for the festivo fizz

and “flip.”Soon acain the weary merchant will lay off a day

for lishing.And with grub grubs, grog and tackle will set

forth at dawn of day;But iu spile of all his efforts, and Lis almost

witching wishing,He will only carry homeward what the jug first

took away.

Sweet spring: I dearly love you, and you cannot be too vernal ;

Excuse that strauge expression, but it tells you “to a T"

'Vhat I wish, indeed most trul}', that your stay could be eternal,

I would gladly be }-our poet if you wished methus to be.

I'd be proud and pleased to tell you very often ofyour beauty,

All your graces and your glories in my sweeteststrains I'd sing;

I would put my vernal verses far above all otherduty.

And no ot her hard should call you anything but "geut !e spring.” —Chicago Sun.

DEAR HUSBAND, COME HOMEl

[Alleged w ifely missive to a Granger member of the Illinois legislature.]

Husband, dear husband, come home to me now From Springfield, so cozy and wan» ;

’Tis lonely without you; why do you not com* And see to the things on the farm?

You told me w hen you were elected last fall If I would but once let you go

You surely would come e'er the winter was gone; Of course I believed it was so.

Husband, dear husband, come home to.me now, I'm sniffing the odor of spring;

You’ve staid long enough in the capital there— You're much safer under my wing.

The old horse is pawing the stable like mad.The colt's in a terrible stew;

The small brimile heifer has got a white calf,Aud the cattle are bawling for you.

Husband, dear husband, come borne to me now. I'd like to observe w hat you're at;

M hen will you get through with your bills and re­solves.

And speeches by this one and that?Your mileage is paid by the longest way round.

Rut take t ,ie shortest cut when you come.1 ur speech's are fine tweedle-dee, but some way

They «lout hide your tweedle-dee-dum.

The voice of your R«‘tsy is calling you, dear;It's nearly the time to make soap;

And some of the women are saying, my love,1 in giving you most too much rojie.

They say there is desperate flirting up there Vwth widows and maids not a few.

I haven't been kissed since the morning you left, Rut, Joseph, how is it with you?

Come home: Come home!3 "U 1» ,ir me, you rascal: Come home!

—Chicago Herald.

T h e N e w S o u th .

1 . lit*t Grady (of the Atlanta Constitution, after his return from New England)—Dinah, there isn't a thing on this table fit to eat. Haven't you any baked beans?

Dinah—No, honey.Editor Grady—Do you know bow to make

brown bread?Dinah-—Nebber learned dat, sab Editor Grady—You can make pumpkin

pi*, can't you?Dinah—No, sah.Editor Uradv—Well, well, I can’t see

*bere you were brought up—Omaha World.

«

0_____

MR. AND MRS. BEECHER.

family—partook more of the father’s or the mother's nature. The family was thoroughly American. In 1638a yeoman named Andrew Ward and a widow, Hannah Beecher, came to New Haven in the same vessel from Eng­land; from the latter Roxana Foote, from the former Lyman Beecher, descended, and these two united in marriage Sept. 10, 1799, locat­ing first at East Hampton, L. I., and after­ward crossing to Litchfield, Conn. Henry Ward was their eighth child.

The family was not only thoroughly' Ameri­can, but also thoroughly Calvinistic—thor­oughly New England in blood, faith and niunners. It was a family of talent, too. If Henry Ward hail died in infancy, the name of Beecher would still have lieen enrolled for­ever in American history'; if he had been a lawyer or a doctor, his father would have held a still higher rank as the great preacher than he now does as Dr. Lyman Beecher. Noted as he was in his time, he is now known to most young Americans chiefly us the father of the great Brooklyn divine. And eminent as other members of the family are in their separate walks, their eminence is made comparative obscurity, and they are often referred to merely as the brothers or sisters of Henry Ward. To this general state­ment there is one brilliant exception—the name of Harriet Beecher Stowe will shine among the great ones of earth and she will be honored and loved as long as the English language is read and human hearts beat in sympathy w ith the oppressed. For it was her pen that roused the heart and conscience of the common people against slavery.

The children of Dr. Beecher were reared in a rather strict, old fashioned way. Festivals for children, fancy toys and story books were unknown in the Connecticut of that day; but they had a severe moral training, and with it much freedom in the open air, in the woods and the fields. Of this experience Mr. Beecher said: “I think I was well brought up, be­cause I was let alone. Except here and there,I hardly came under the parental hand; but I knew where the sweet flag was, where the

m m

3 XV

BEECIIER’S BIRTHPLACE, LITCHFIELD, CORK,

hickory trees were, where the chestnut and the sassafras and the squirrels were—so I had a world of things to do.” The good effects of this close familiarity with nature appear in all of Mr. Beecher’s productions. When Henry was but three years old his mother died, and little more than a year after his father mar­ried again. The new mother did all a moth­er’s part to the children, and Henry Ward always spoke of her with the utmost rever­ence ; but he confesses that she was a woman to be venerated rather than warmly and ten­derly loved, and that her religion was of a strangely severe and solemn kind. He con­fessai that he could not open his heart to her, and often felt his emotions chilled. The family discipline was somewhat less severe than was usual at that day in New England, but there was strictness enough. Especially were the children trained to habits of truth­fulness; duplicity in any form was the one unpardonable offense in a true New England household.

It was while he was attending a mathe­matical school, which his father had per­suaded him would be necessary if he went to sea, as he at one time wished to do, that Henry Ward Beecher professed religion and united with his father's church in Boston. All his thoughts now turned to wan! the min­istry, and as soon as be could prepare there­for he entered Amherst college.

m

»R S FIRST CHURCH, ATAVIA. a

His classmates were not impressed w ith his scholarship, but in the debating club he soon took high rank. He also became an enthusi­ast on the subject of phrenology, and was very early distinguished as an ardent speaker against slavery. Here, too, his religious views underwent a peculiar change. Dr. Lyman Beecher was then the great orthodox divine of New England, and Henry Ward has rec­

orded the terrible struggles his own mind went through in revising and finally reject- Jng some of the harsh features of the old creed. After his graduation in 1834 he followed his father’s family to Cincinnati, where Dr. Beecher had become a professor in Lane seminary. He entered at once upon

I the study of theology in that institution, but I as the divergence of views between him and

his father became more marked, he fell into another s'ate of deep depression. His older brother had just withdrawn from the min­istry on the ground of unbelief in the stan­dards set up, and for a season Henry Ward suffered great darkness and confusion of mind. From this he emerged with an en­thusiastic conviction of the truth of the more liberal views he had previously held only tentative^.

The congregation at Lawrenceburg, Ind., of which he was first made pastor, was poor; the lower part of the town was subject to over­flows, and there was sickness and want of energy. But Mr. Beecher acted as his own sexton, and by enthusiastic devotion to duty was building up & church when he received a call to Indianapolis. In that city, be says, he dropped the study of theology and began the study of mankind; the effect on his preach­ing was so marked as to attract wide attention. Ho became a magnetic and popular preacher. He had married just before leaving Cincinnati, and in Indianapolis he and his wife led very active lives for a little over seven years, when he received his call and made his last change to the Plymouth Congregational church of Brooklyn, with which his name and fame have been identified for nearly forty years. Un Sunday, Oct. 10, 1847, he preached his first sermon in Brooklyn, then a city of CO,0C0people, with but two Con­gregational churches and thirty-nine of all other denominations.

His first sermon at Plymouth created a sensation. In it he declared with extreme plainness his position on all the leading national questions—slavery, the Mexican war, temperance and other issues; but ns to theolog}', contented himself with saying that he should strive to make his preaching “a ministry of Christ.” He was publicly in­stalled as pastor Nov. 11, 1847, and in the next ten years Plymouth church grew rapidly, grew to lie not only one of the great churches of the land, but a great center of liberality. In 1849 Mr. Beecher suffered his first severe illness, which left him enfeebled for a long time, and in 1850 the society sent him to Europe, where he remained three months. His next visit there was iu 1863, when he did that great work in England which made him so dear to all Union loving Americans. This is no place to relate that wonderful story. Suffice it to say that American statesmen credit him with having “converted the

orator and friend of the oppressed, ignoring any personal weakness; his monument is in the hearts of millions, and his career w ill long remain as a bright chapter in the history of Brooklyn.

The steadfast devotion of Mrs. Beecher to her husband and family is well known. She was a teacher before marriage, and was noted for conscientious devotion to duty. It is not too much to say that the funeral of the dead pastor was unique. In accordance w ith his wish, flowers were everywhere—the very pall was covered with flowers, and no near friend wore mourning. There was a private service at the house Thursday, and on Friday a pub­lic service at Plymouth church, where the floral decorations were the most profuse. The body lay in state part of Thursday, all of Friday and part of Saturday. Nearly 100,000 people viewed it.

EBEN F. PILLSBURY.

A P r o m in e n t N e w E n g la n d P o l i t i c ia n

TYlio l ia s J u s t D ic'd .

Twenty years ago the name of Elien F. Pillsbury was very well known throughout the country, from his active political life and his pronounced op­position to Presi­dent Lincoln’s plans for carrying on the civil war. Uf late years he has not lieen prominently before the nation but once, and that w'as when President Cleveland appoint­ed him collector of internal revenue at Boston and the nomination was re­jected by the sen- e b e n F. p il l s b u r y . ate. Eben I’. Pillsbury was born in Kingland, Me., sixty-two years ago, and died at Alls­ton, Mass. In his early years he was a school teacher, which profession he soon abandoned for the study of law. When lie had been ad­mitted he practiced for a time in his native town. In politics he was originally a IVhig, but he became a Democrat in 1855. Ujx>n the breaking out of the war he was for a time iw favor of strong measures, but later changed his front, ns indicated at the begin­ning of this brief sketch.

In IStki he was Democratic candidate for

Soveraor, having for his competitor Gen.oshua L. Chamberlain. Heran again in the

next two years, but without being elected. President Johnson appointed him pension agent at Augusta in J80G, but be was not continued in that office. Thereupoft lie re­moved to the state capital, and from that time until 18*80 lie controlled The Maine Standard, conducting it in an aggressive manner. In the meantime he was employed at the bar in many important criminal cases. He was accus«?«I by kis political enemies with having lieen active} in the Garcelon plan to count out Governor-elect Davis :u 1S79-80. Then he went to Boston and there practi«*ed law till the time of his death. He leaves a widow and several children. He was inter­ested in several patents of value.

5Ni 'if,

Wf h r-1-y . / . J M y PL

Tri/ -i 2!\\ ii r i mULuLw

THE BODY LYING IN STATE.British people to a just view of the American Civil War.” Mr. Beecher himself always looked upon this as the most try­ing experience of his life, though he ha«l been very active and prominent in tin anti-slavery agitation preceding the war, am had fought for freedom of speech in the dar est hours. Uf one of the gatherings he ad­dressed in England he said: “The uproar would come on aud drown my voice—then I would wait ami get in five minutes or so. The reporters would get that down. Occa- sionally I would see tilings that amused me and laugh outright; the crowd would stop to see what I was laughing at and I would sail in with a sentence or two.”

Mr. Beecher returned home to be welcomed as no returning American had ever lieen, and to remain for nine years the great representa­tive American, the honore«l patriot, the in­fluential politician and the one pulpit orator whose life was an almost constant ovation.

Then came the great cloud upon his fame, which had lifted, indeed, but was not entirely cleared away even at his death. In this space it can only be touched upon—a large volume would be needed to give tiie details of the “Great Brooklyn Scandal” of 1872-75. It was em­phatically a Brooklyn scandal, not exclu­sively a Beecher scandal ; for its destructive fury made havoc in many circles, sundered lifetime friendships, destroyed the peace of families, bankrupted business men, poisoned schools and churches and wrought a moral desolation which even now we cannot esti-

ir«JW

i 'ill's

FLORAL DECORATION j.

mate. Take any view we can of it, some people have been cruelly wronged; place the guilt where we may, many people have per­petrated the vilest treachery and some the most unblushing perjury. In fact, the saddening conclusions which logically follow any verdict are so depressing that many good men shrink from them and refuse to make up their minds at all. But in spite of this blot Henry Ward Beecher will live in American history as one of the really great men of his age. We do well to honor him as a patriot,

B u r e n S. W a sso n .

D e s M o i n e s , Iowa, March 22.—Buren S. W’asson, of La Forte, Iowa, who is beginning to win for himself a name as

a w riter. on free trade anil kindred topics, enjoys the distinction, besides that of being a Jive country journalist, of being the young­est post master hold­ing a “presidential” o f f i c e i n t h e country. He re­ceived his «commis­sion in 1SS5, when hut 22 years old. He is a D Porte boy and began his journalistic career

b u r e n s. WASSON, as one of the edi­tors of The La Porte Progress at the age of 19. Among Mr. Wasson’s literary efforts may be mentioned a strong free trade article printed in The Chicago Current two years ago in answer to Gen. James S. Brisbin, who had espoused the protection cause.

LaUZIJU FDViUC..

C o u n s e lin g D e c o r u m a t t h e T h e a tr e .W o m e n 's E s t im a t e o f W o m e n .

[Special Correspondence.]N ew Y ork , March 22.—One night during

the season of German opera here Frau Brandt, the great German singer, was stopped in the midst of the most serious and impressive scene of “Fidelio,” Beethoven's only opera, by a silly laugh from a girl who was chatting with some equally trivial young man in one of the ground floor boxes. The laugh came in at a critical moment, was heard all over the house, and it was, as she afterward stated, as if she was struck by a blow. Memory and almost consciousness left her; she was obliged to break the scene, and could hardly recover herself to get through the rest of her work.

There are still people to whom a visit to the opera, which costs $4 for a single orchestra ticket, and even a night at the theatre, is worked for and anticipated as a great event, one to be enjoyed to the utmost and for which sacrifices must be made. The special opera or dramatic performance is selected with care, dinner hour is advanced and every preparation made for an evening of highly prized enjoyment. But care and pre­paration, anticipation and sacrifices may all be rendered useless by the interruption and display, the noise and gossiping, the silly laughter and unconscious egotism of those who possess more money than brains.

The estimate which fashionable women place upon each other received an illustration in the most notable amateur theatrical per­formances of the season, given at the Madison Square theatre for a charity by the kind­ness of Mr. A. M. Palmer, and consisting wholly of little one act plays written or translated by Mrs. Burton N. Harrison. The motives were, in one case, drawn from the scare of a woman at a mouse; in another, from fright at being left alone in a roam at a hotel; and in a third, from the falsehood told by a “rosebud” at a “four o'clock tea” in or­der to obey the command of her managing mamma and not let “conversation flag” when she had secured an eligible party as listener. Still another plays upon her husband with her tears in ortler to secure the gift of a ]>air «>f diamond earrings, for which in reality she does» not care but which some other woman has told her she ought to have.

G o t E n o u g h o f I t .

Three very Well dressed young men of St, Louis tried to get np a flirtation with two pretty girls in a public hall, and finally one of the men spoke to one of the girls and asked her to talk to him and smile for five minutes in order that he might win a $5 bet that he could hold a conversation with her. She immediately had the young man and his two companions arrested, and after a night in the leek up one was fined $5, one $29, and one $3«.—Chicago Herald..

I X T I IE R E IC H S T A G .

HOW SOME PROMINENT STATESMEN ACT AND

GERMANLOOK.

B is m a r c k , R ic h te r , V o n M o ltk e a u d

Y Y iu d th orst in A t t i t u d e s T h a t A r e C h a r ­

a c t e r i s t i c —T h e A n n iv e r s a r y o f E m p e r o r

'W illia m 's B ir th .

The boys of 1810-'G0 have long since had to learn their European geography anew. A map of date before our war is as obsolete al­most as a map of the Roman empire. Then pupils were tol«l that they need not try to memorize all the little states of Germany mid Italy; tiie Dinner, including “free cities,” numbered thirty-one, and T lie lutter varied according to count. There were Minima and Parma to be couute«l as one or two; tho “states of the church” as one or sev­eral; Lombardy and Venice as one, under tho rules of Austria, or two priiviuces, besides Naples, under King Bomba; San Ma­rino and the kingdom of Sicily an«l Sardinia,

under Carlo A1 berto, father of \ ictor Emmanuel and grand father of the present Hum­b e r t 1, king of United Italy. In G e r m a n y were four free c i t i e s , seven grand dueh-

: ies, several elector­ate's, the kingdoms

f of Prussia, Hava- [ ria, Wurtemburg

and Saxony, with tho German prov­inces of the Aus­trian empire, ami mi n o r principali­ties connecte«! with the foregoing in so m a n y ih t r i e ate ways that the aver­age American did

B is m a r c k in rflE r e i c h - not try to uuder- s t a g . stand the system.

There was a sort of union called tiie German bund—n sort of general parliament called the diet. All that is swept away, and in its place we have the German empire, w ith Prussia at its head; old King William as emperor, tho reichstag as its legislative power and tho magician Bismarck as chancellor and ruling spirit.

This history is so recent and so brilliant that we cannot even now appreciate tiie won­der and practical importanceof a united Italy and a consolidated Germany. At the head of Prussia were the Hohenzollenis, tho family of the great Fredericks, who had already raised Prussia from a mere electorate to a leading kingdom; and have since 181*5, by the genius of Bismarck and his supporters, ami the valor of Prussian soldiers, driven Austria from her headship and made a North German empire. In October, 1S62, Otto Edward Leopold Bismarck was made premier of Prussia, with almost absolute control of foreign affairs; and he at once entered on his great work of unification. In 181*5 Schleswig-Holstein was annexed to Prussia. In 1S00 Prussia and Italy made war on Aus­tria. Thegreat battle of Sudowa annihilate«! the latter’s power iu Germany, and the result w as the annexation of Lombardy and Venice to the new kingdom of Italy, and of Nassau, Hesse-Cassel and Frankfort to Prussia. The adhesion of .Saxony soon followed. Une Hohenzollem prince was placed on tiie throne of Roumania and another propose«l for king of Spain. Then Louis Napoleon interfered and the Franco-Gerrnnn war of 1SÎ0 resulted. The triumph of the German arms was so rapid and complete that the world was amazed. Louis Napoleon was taken prisoner; France depose« 1 him and establi.',be<l a republic.

German Liberals, Socialists, Alsatians ami Poles. Certainly the most cranky voter could find a party to his taste.

Tiie new reichstag convened March 3 and at once adopted declarations in favor of peace. The venerable Von Moltke was long and loudly cheered as he took his seat among the extreme supporters of Bismarck and the septennate. He has steadily maintained that the strengthening of the army and voting

supplies to insure its continuance for seven years would at once convince France that her hope of revenge was baseless ami then peace would be securer!. Richter an«! Wiud- thorst had announced their willingness to agree to a three years’ bill, but a majority of the German people have voted for the septennate. And now is peace assured? Diplomates are more hopeful, but the dark cloud of uncertainty still hangs over Europe, ami 4,090,000 men are kept trained and ready at a moment’s notice to spring to arms. France threatens on one side, Russia is unfriendly on the other. Many causes of dispute exist, and Frenc h blood is up to a fighting beat. Can peace, then, bemaintained?

\

' i p *

%

A FADING LANDMARK.

tx

5*

■ tRfCHTK* TA » ( K Q NOTTS.

Alsace and lorraine, which France bail taken from Germany two centuries lie- fore, were annexed to Prussia, and on Jan. IS, 1871, King William, victorious from the beginning of the war, was proclaimed emperor of Germany at Ver­sailles, tiie okl residence of the French kings. Three men now wielded the destinies of Ger­many and dictated the politics of central Eu­rope— Enqieror William, Count Von Moltke as heail of the military establishment, and Bismarck as chancellor of the em­pire. But there were many internal troubles to deal with. There was and Is a strong party In favor of a more liberal government, another for peace and free trade, and still another for a general overturning of existing institutions, while the ever present discontent of the laboring classes shows in constantly shifting phases'. A relig­ious question was tiret dealt with. The powers of the pope in regulating the Catholic hier­archy in Germany were challenged, and from 1872 to 1SSQ the complications were numer­ous. Then peace was made, and at the recent elections the priests supported the jxilicy of Bismarck. The Socialists threatened trouble, and the empire was never quite free from ap­prehensions of renewed trouble with France. At length affairs took on such a threatening aspect that Bis­marck asked of the reichstag enlarged powere iu strength­ening the army and a bill to organ­ize it for seven year« will: many details. T j i .is his opponen cs., * re the name «*i the septennate. It was d* f* ate<l in the reichstag. 8o the chancel lo r d i s - sol veil that body and ordered a new e l e c t i o n . Herr Windtborst a n d Herr Richter were , badly defeated at the election in Feb­ruary, and Bis­marck lias a work­ing majority in the new r e i c h s t a g .But the curious confusion of pol­itics is illustrated by the fact that there were nine distinct parties, viz., Conservatives, Imperialists, Centerists,

*' ^ “»•ional Liberals. New

W1NDTHORST TAKING SNUFF.

MADISON SQUARE GARDEN.

The ground on w hich the long, low, pe­culiar building stands was purchased in dif feront lots and at different times for the New York and Harlem railroad, beginning 1847. No part of it has been bought later than 1S53. Some of it was pure hasts 1 from Archbishop Hughes. At first the railroad company made of it a small starting office at Twenty-sixth street and Fourth avenue for the city car line. In 1854 a building was pnt up which was used for the reception of milk trains aud the delivery of milk and farm produce at night. In 18G3 that building was torn down and a passenger station for the New York, New Ilaven and Hartford rail­road built. When the Grand Central station was completed and opened in 1871 the garden building was abandoned for passenger pur­poses, and was leased to P. T. Bamum. It was used as a museum and summer garden by Shook & Gilmore for a time, and they put the building in about the condition it is now in. It is said that during the last ten years it has been something of an incubus on the bands of the Harlem road, and that negotia­tions for its sale have been frequent and futile.

The purchasers are a number of New York­ers w ho have formed a company whose inten­tion is to build on the ground now occupied by the garden a large permanent exhibi­tion building, and thus preserve thus central and historic ground for public use. The price paid is rep«jrte<l to be $1,000,000. In 1873 Bar- num offered $.500,000 for the property, but the Harlem people held it at $750,000.

The design of the purchasers, as now talked over, is to give the new building facilities for horse shows, rooms for dancing and concerts, mid a summer music garden, and around the building booths for trade of a clean and popu­lar character, with awnings, electric lights, ami everything which will make the place an attractive shopping center day and night.

N e w Y o rk er» M ire o f a J o b .

Omaha Man—I think you New Yorkers ought to be ashamed of yourselves.

New York Man—Ashamed! Sir, you must be crazy.

“ Not a bit of it. Your own papers ad­mit that over 7,000 children in New York can't go to school for want of acc ioda­tions.

“ Well, that’s so.”“ Just think of the future of those chil­

dren, forced to grow up in ignorance.”“ Don't worry about that. That's the

great beauty of our institutions. They will always be sure of steady employment and good pay, too.”

“ Steady employment? What at?”“ Sitting on juries.”—Omaha World.

l ' r e n c h F r iv o l i t i e s .

“ Would you believe it, dearest, that on the eve of our marriage I have a terrible dread about this step we are going to take?”

‘Really?”‘I love the city, the world, the noise and

activity, while yen, on the contrary, do not care for any of these thi ngs. Will we be able to agree?”

“ Certainly. We shall see so little of each other! —New York Graphic.

A FIGURE IN HISTORY.

FOUR GENERATIONS.

This week the whole German nation is cele­brating the ninetieth birthday of tiie Km- peror William. The last illustration fcf the series accompanying this article, is from the famous photograph of the male representa­tives of the four living generations of the German royal family. The others are from the current number of theGeiTuan illustrated periodical, Ueber Land und Meer.

T h e M a il is n n S q u a r e G a r d e n t o b e T o r n

D o w n .

The old, historic Madison Square garden must go. It belonged to an era that has passed, and it must vanish into a memory. It gave the metropolis the circuses, the horse and dog shows, the Indian and vaquera riding, the de­liciously unconventional entertainments for which liotu poor and rich New York pined at intervals. There the eminent brutes of pugil­ism bruised each other’s flesh to the uproarious applause of the fashionable as well as the criminal male population of the city. There, occasionally, politicians, in the beginning of their fame, spoke to cheering multitudes. There tiie ring master has cracked his whip anil the clown his joke for nearly twenty years.

E x -G o v e r n o r W il l ia m S m ith , o f V ir g in ia , a n d H is C a r e e r .

The newspapers have lately contained brief notes to the effect that ex-Governor Smith, of Virginia, is stricken with a fatal illness from which he can by no means recover. His death may be expected any day, and perhaps it will have lieen recorded before this reaches the reader’s eve.

William Smith was born in 1797 in King George county, Va. He was a figure in the history of liisstate and of the nation. In his early days lie was a mail contractor and because of his relented demands for extra compensa­tion he grew to lie known as “Extra Billy” Smith. II«? was firet elected governor two score of years ago and w hen the w ar was brought to a close he was again gov­ernor, having been elected this tune be­cause of his lighting qualities as colonel 4 of the Forty-ninth Virginia infantry.Before the war he frequently r ep r e - e x -g o v e r n o r s m it h . .seated his district in congress, and he was on the floor of the house when Lincolu was inaugurated. Ho startled everybody at that time by calling for egg­nog, which he drank on the floor of the house. While governor he was twice the nominee of the Democrats for United States senator, and was beaten first by R. M. T. Hunter nnd afterward by James M. Mason, by a coalition of the solid W'hig minority and the Calhoun Democrats.

He canvassed Pennsylvania for Buchanan in 1850, at Mr. Buchanan’s urgent request, anil made many converts tor the Dem«v,rats l»y his ingenious pleas. As a politician he was distinguished more by dexterity than by boldness. As a soldier during the war—he fought on the Confederate side—he was the emblem of valor, rather than of tactical skill “Fall in, Forty-ninth Virginia,” w ill come back to many a Virginian soldier as he recalls the rallying cry to his regiment of brave ex-Governor Smith.

Maj. Ben: Perley Poore tells of an interest­ing incident in the old man’s career. Maj. Poore left the office of the newspaper in which he was employed one fine day during tho Pierce administration to go to the Capitol. As soon as he reached the sidewalk he saw at a short distance two men in an angry dispute. They clinched and fell to the sidewalk, and the major presently found that the under man was his chief, the editor of the paper, while “Extra Billy” was on top. By somo misfortune the editor had gone dowm with “Extra Billy's” thumb in his mouth, and the V lrgmian was howling and protesting in very unparliamentary language that “that’s no way to fight a gentleman.” The editor hung on, however, until the bystanders separated th© two.

His only surviving sons are Col. Thomas Smith an«l Capt. Frederick Smith. The four others are dead. One of them, James Caleb Smith, went to California in 1850 with his father, and fought a duel there with Senator Broderick in the presence ol thousands of jieople. Col. Tom Smith challenged nnd fought Editor Elam, of The Rich­mond. W'hig, when that paper was controlled by the Mahone influence. Mr. Elam was shot in the mouth, and to-day suffers from his wounds more than from that he subsequently received in his dnel with Editor B'drne, of The Richmond State, w ho wouudeu him in the leg. Austin Smith, still another son, w as a delegate to the Democratic convention at Charleston in 181*0, and in tho course of its proceedings had a very lively row with Gen. B. F. Butler. Austin Smith died from a wound received at Fair Oaks in 1862.

The days of ex-Governor Smith’s last ill­ness were passed at his homo in W'arrenton, Va., the social capital of the district he so often represented in congress before the war. The portrait given is from a photograph taken during the war, as is apparent from the uniform. But a gentleman who saw him only a short time ago assures the writer that up to quit«* a recent period the governor re­tained almost the same appearance. His vitality and youthful looks have been often spoken of as marvellous during the past few years.

BRIDE AND GROOM.

J o h n A . E d it h A .L o g a n a n d M iss A n d r e w s .

The marriage of John A. Logan to Miss Edith A. Andrews, set down for Tuesday,

Ma r c h 22, a t Youngstown, Ohio, the home of the bride, has attracted very general at­tention. The bride is the daughter of C. H. Andrews, the millionaire, w h o made his money in coal and iron. She has been a great favorite in society,

V *

/y) and, as the sketch j ' / / shows, is a v e r y

comely young lady, THE b r id e . Bhe is a skillful

horsewoman and rides with spirit and grace. The groom is a yonng man of considerable business ability, and upon the return of the happy conpie from their wedding trip to Florida will en­gage in business w ith Mr. Andrews.In connection w ith this subject, the public may be in­terested in knowing that the groom's mother still makes Calumet place, the old family res i - t dence at Washing­ton, her home. 8he would never feel so perefectly at home TI,E GROOJi' elsewhere as there, and she still occupies as her bedroom the apartment used by herself and the general, and in which he breathe«! his last. The match made by lier son meets w ith her hearty approval, and a strong affection exists be­tween the senior and the junior Mrs, l»gan.

A B ir d s ’ H e a d D in n e r .

A bird's head dinnerparty was a unique en­tertainment in Paris. Each guest had a coi­ffure representing the head of a bird, an owl, a turtledove and other birds. The most ele gant was that of a peacock, with crest, repre­sented by an aigrette in diamonds, emeralds and saphires.—Chicago Times.

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