Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, December 3, 1876, Page 3

3: WKENZIE'S VICTORY. The Fierce Cavalry Fight at Duli= Knife's Viilage. An Indian Fastness in a Deep Ravine Carried by Assault. B Tiie Troops March All Night to Fight : All Day Without Food. Iwo Hundred Tepees Dostroyed—The Killed and Wounded, Dispaich tothe New York Ilerald. Caxe ox North FoRE RIvER, Sunday, Nov. 36, vis Forr FerrerMAN, Wyomnig - Terri- tory, Nov. 80.—Yesterday I dispatched by two Indian conricrs a brief account of a fight then ing betwoen two battalions of cavalry, of the Powder River expedition, with about 320 of the eulisted Indians under Gen. Mackenzie, and a hostile Cheyenne band, whose village was attacked by himat daybreak ina canon in the Big Hormn Mountains. The fight ended shortly after the couriers left the scene of the action, and now Ican send youa more com- plete account of the battle. ¥ THE MARGH OF TEHE Y IOSTILES.” TWhen the expedition left Old Fort Reno the Intention was to strike Crazy Horse's village, then understood to be located on the Rosebud Riser, near the battlefield of June 17. The morning after arriving at Crazy Woman’s Fork, Sitting Bear, 3 messenger sent out by Gen.. Mackenzie just before he left Red Cloud to warn the Indian baods then out that they must come into their agencies or fight, arrived in our compeny With 8 white fag, and told us that & band of Cheyennes, in five lodges, camped in 8 canon near our route to Crazy Woman, having heard of our approach, ad left for Crazy Horse’s village. Then Gen. Crook determined to send the two battalions of cavalry with his command and the Indian scouts to look for a Cheyenue village which he had eard was located in the Big Horn Mountains, soathwest of our camp. He first sent out four- teen Pawnee and Shoshone scouts to locate the Indian camp. During Thursday and until moon of Friday we traveled along the base of the ountaius, having made, up to that time, about irty miles. Mcanwhile some Sioux and Arap- ghoe scouts, who had been sent ahead on Thurs- dsy night, returned and said they had found the campe A FARD NIGHT'S WORK. Instantly a night march was ordered, and after a three hours’ rest#we started for the camp. Our Indians said we could reach the camp by midnight, but we found the trail so @ifficult to follow on account of the broken nature of the ground that it took us until day- light to reach the mouth of the canon where the village stood. DULL-ENIFE'S PORMIDABLE FASTNESS. This canon is about four miles long, and va- 1its in width from a quarter of a mile to a mile irom base to base of its walls, and twice those distances from crest to crest. Itis cut up and intersected thronghout by scores of ravines from five to, fifty feet deep. The direction of the main canon is about east and west, and the North Fork of the Powder River winds through jtalong the south side. Itswestern end ter- minates in an irregular range of flat hills, and there are rocky and brushy patches on the sides of the canon, and bluffs rising abruptly from the bottom at _several poinis within short d;smncas of thedndian camp. Our information of THE STRENGTH OP THE INDIANS and the exact location of their tepees was very mesgre. Ourscouts knew where the village was, and had seen a dozen or more lodges and 2 . great many ponics, and that was all they knew. A runner, sent ahead just as we entered the andn, came back to say that the bucky were fancing the war-dance in four places. It now seemed impossible to enter the village without tarming the inmates. _All our Indian sllies, ander Lieut. W. P. Clark, Second Cavalry, were ient to the front ss speedily as possible. ATTACKING IN THE DARK. The column was closedup after crossing three or four deep ravines dismautied, was given to charge, about two miles inside of fie mouth of the canyon. The hpead of the wdumn proper was now within about a mile of the village, with onr Indians ranged irregularly 1head and on both flanks. Although we gave ur horses rein and Epur, our progress was somparatively slow, in consequence of the roughiness of the country through which we ¥ere moving. *_ MEETING OF HOSTILE INDIAN. We had not gone far when our Indizns com- menced howling and blowin% on hideous-voiced wind instraments: and the Indians in the vil- laze, some of whom_were still awake and at their war-dance, sounded the alarm on a_drum, 1nd commenced shooting from their lodges at the advancing colunn. The Shoshones, led by Lieut. Schuyler, aide-de-camp to Gen. Crook, dambered up the hills on the south side of the cangp, ard galioped along through a brisk fire to the bizhest point of the bluff opposite and over- Jooking the village. Here-they immediately in- trenched themselves, and remained throughout the day and o)l night. The Pawnees, Arapahoes, ::g Sioux went throngh the centreof the eanon, SWEPT THE VILLAGE . andcaptured two or three herds of ponies. Sudden as was the attack, the *‘hostiles” con- tinued to dash into the ravines and creep behind the couvenient bluffs, and rocks, and bushes, where they fortifled themselves to wait until the soldiers rushed in. Day had not broke suf- ficently to xunsy( discover_their movements to us, but the bulk of our advancing column gave them an excellent chamce to fire at us with telling eflect. "DEATH OF THE BRAVE M'KENKEY. It was then that Lieut. McKinney, command- inz Company M of the Fourth Cayalry, the last m\u‘yan_r of the first battaiion, fell, shot in the head and body by a volley. behind a ridee,where hehad been ‘ordered to place his company. When falling he cried to his men, * Get back {rom this plave, you are_ambushed,” and then exclaimed just atter, *Oh! my poor mother! Tell her! Tell ber!™ . DESPERATE STRUGGLE FOR A POSITION. His men fled from the fatal spot. but imme- diately rushed back xg{uflu and swept the sav- from the ravine, killipg about a dozen of em &nd holding the position which they had ‘been ordered to take. Nearly all of our men who were killed out- right fell in their first dash or from reckless ex- Posure atrerward. Several of the soldiers were wounded during the fight by bullets from_hostiles posted at 3 tance beyond the regch of their carbine balls, most of the indians having the long-range in- Lantry gun, AN UNEQUAL CONTEST. A belching fire was kept up by the soldiers {or some hours, while the hosti&s fired with ex- treme caution. They had crawled into the many lfivu in the rocky sides of the canon, others were lying down in the dark ravines, while mauy were ziding arourd on the flat hills at the end of the @non, having the ml\'mm,‘!!c of us in all points £ave numbers so far as we then knew. GOOD CONDUCT OF TUE TROOPS, gSen Mackenzie's command discovered no lit; e coolness' aud bravery in dislodging small parties from advantageous points, and hed some thrilling fights st close quarters. They had vo cowards to encounter in the Cheyennes, some of whom seemed to_court death by their ’;"Ufis dashee. About 11 o'clock the beavy {firing was checked on our gide. Meanwhile the ostiles were taking their families through the Tavines to the hills, and firing -from all points at once to defend them and reveuge theoi- :;lvu for the capture of their ponies sud L e logs of their villawe, already. sct om fize. ey erept cautiously from one oift to another a8 their retreat exposed them to our guns, and ¥efound shelter from their bullets, fortifying emselyes as they moved about. UNDER A FIERCE FIRE. & Most of their guns covered a little plain Iying tween the village and a red blufl under the est of the mouitain, forming the north wall of the canyon. I passed across Lafs plain several times durfug the fight, with Gen. Mackenzie and stafl, and the fire was invariably concentrated onus. Aswe crossed once, I had a lively racc, gfl, though a man and liorse about ten yards u'ffl of me toppled over, 1 passed through “This was about 1 o'clocks In the afternoon, and e lind uot bad_ anything to cat since 3o'dlock L ll]he previous afternoue. About + o'clock the ol E:;s ;.l'rew (ewa:lr and some of the 2‘1‘9111. Egh 2 a 0 goto the pack train, Whi ar- P ;xx\lctl meauwhile, and get 3 bite. By sundown Was quict. e M FORCE b¥ THR HOSTILES. = vount of the tepues after the fight showed e J,t nuflfi \ix‘l’}nzg had contained betweon 180 and 0 mmn warriors are estimated at between Gen, Mackenzie. reports twenty-five I A : - ndisns killed, but fully fifty must have fn{lon- Our Killed numbers iz & i numbers six FB"I'""- bt six and our wounded n the captured xepces were found several :;!;l:;l:irs?tl_ux\\‘h"i beyond doubt, thal:, th:(;h::‘- g i3 village were in the 0- cro and the Rusebud fight. & CHar s SPOILS OF VICTORY. We have capturea about 500 ponfes, and total- |- 1y destroyed all ihe tepeos and most of thein contents, including the winter’s supply of dried meat. Besides what was dcsu‘oycg, over fifty pack-horses were londed with bifffalo-robes,etc.) ‘taken.from the lodges by our enlisted Indians. A quantity of ammunition which the hostiles had no time to take off with them was also de- str:yad. anong the Indian dead were said to be three sous of Dull Knife, one of tie leading warriors of’ the Cheyennes, who was heard on the bluffs c_w‘a'g:srngmg his men to be braveduring the A WHITE DECOY FLAG. Saoveral times, while the battle was in progress, awhite flag was shown from the erest of tha mountain on the south, but It would be withdrawn immediately after, and a volley would follgw its exhibition. ~ After the fight it was shown again on the hills at the head of the canon, and some interpre- ters were sent out to talk with the Indians. They said, however, they would not surrender now; that'a heap of their men had been killed, and the rest were ready to die. The interpreters returned, and we ex] night attack, but were not disturbed: We left the canon to-day, and are now camped about cight miles away, on our return toward the su_gmy camp at Crazy Woman. s {8 considered by experienced officers to have been the most hotly-vontested Indian fight ‘f({ years, for the numbers engaged on the other slde. cted 8 THX DEAD OFFICER. Liout, Mchnui’ was a graduate from West Point fn 1871, 1l was a nativeof Memphis, |, Tenn., where his mother resides. He was u fing | soldier, distinzuished - for: his, manliness and and the order | bravery and beloved by Lhis comrades, who sincerely regret his death, KILLED AND WOUNDED. - ' The following are the casualties from this well- fought action: i KILLED. - N Lient. John A. McKinney, Fourth Cavalry, com- manding Compauy 3. Corporal Ryan, D Company, Fourth Cavalry. Private Sullivan, B Company, Fourth Cavalry. Private Beard, D Company, Fourth Cavalry. Private Keller, E Company, Fourth Cavalry. . = “néour:nsn.? 3 orporal Lynn, M Compuny. Fourth Cavalry. . Private Btick. E, Com[m‘;)) Fourth Cm-nlry{ Corporal Rode, I Compuny, Fourth Cavalry. Private [ickey, Company 1, Fifth Cavalry. Corporal Cunningham, Company If, Third Cav- alry. Private Fillmedge, Company I, Third Cavalry. Private Strecht, Company E. Fourth Cavalry: Private McGwin, Company M, Fourth Cavalry. Private Folsom, Company H, Fifth Cavalry. Sergeant Forsyth, Company M, Fourth Cavalry. Private McMahon, Company N, Fourth Cavalry, Private Fitzgerald, Cowpany D, Fourth Cavalry. Private Mclarland, Compauy L, Fifth Cavairy. Corporal Jacob, Compauy 1, Fourth Cavalry. Private W. Herman, Company 1, Fourth Cavalry, Private Kearney, Compauy 1, Fourth Cavalry. Private H. Herman, Company H, ‘Third Cavalry, Prisate Smith, Company &, Fousth Cavalry. Private Stearns, Comsn‘ny 1, Fourth Cavairy. Alisan Shoshone, Indian. Private Reardon. Company M, Foarta Cavalry. Private Hagan, Company H, Fourth Cavalry. Private Taompsen, Company F, Fourth Cavalry. Private Ivison. Company M, Fourth Cavalry. DESTITUTION OF THE JIOSTILES, The hostiles are uow without food or shelter, and almost, naked in thic_hills. This morning thoy ldlled six horses for food. The weather is. growing colder and o heavy sunowsstorm is gathering overhead. . s ITEMS OF INTEREST. Red noses are the style. Fine skating up at Union Park. Ornsby, the leading photographer. You can’t go to the opera next week. The river came near freezing last night. No President yet. Patlence is a virtue.. The “ Bussey Range” at Merwin Churdh’s. Take your girl out sleigh-riding to-morrow. The * Shining Light”’ at Merwin Cburch’s. 9,000 new books, $1. Chapin’s, 91 ‘Madison. The *Peerless Wringer” at Merwin Church’s. Long ears should be. well covered this weath- er. ? Trveed fs back, but how he got away at first is still 2 mystery. Tt wasn't Dan Rice who was elected Governor of Massachusetts recently. Wanted—A great singer, musician, actor, or actress who bas never given a farewell tour. Go to C. D. Mosher, 931 Wabash avenue, to get your photograph taken for Christmas pres- €énts. Where ten men will cheerfully lay down their Jives for 2 woman, only one Will carry hera scuttle of cosl. i Leavenworth’s filtnaces, ranges, and stoves arc unexcelled 88 regards quality and price, at 65 Lake strect. - People who_carry chewing-fnm and postage stamps loose in their pockets do not complain of Inck of business. ; : ) Boautiful Christmas presents: Hall's* fine orceluins, suu-pearls, or water-colors. 170 [adison street. 2 | The largest men fitted with overcoats and suits at Assiznee’s sale, 150 State street, and 126 Milwankee avenue. . Ladies’ faded mink furs can be g:rrmmcpuy restored by Merckell, the English ponciler, 351 West Randolph street. Skates, skates, skates,—a new stock of latest etyles just received and for sale at low prices by W, A. Lowell & Co., 738 West Madison -street. Another large invoice of direct importation pew teas just received by A.H. Blackall, 40 Clark and 156 West Aadison, corner Halsted street. A Mount Bethel township farmer cut open an old hornets’ nest just_te examine its inside ar- rangement. Hesays he thinks he will be able te sce his barn in about two weeks. Three Northerners with a capital of $18 to swing on, have started o fire insurance compa- ny in Louislana, and are taking everybody who wants perfect indemnity against loss by tho fiend. 1If you desire to save money, send your ordn‘rs 4011, C. Wilcox, General Purchasing Ageut, 121 Dearborn street, for anything you may wish to have purchased in Clicago. Correspondence solicited. A lady correspondent; who assumes to _lknow how bnyys ougmp to be trained, writes as follows: Ob, tothers! hunt out the soft, tendery ge- nigl sidp of your boy’s nature.” Mothers often do—with an old shoe. The retail fur sale to take place at the auction house of W. A. Buiters & Co., 118 and 120 Wa- bash avenue, on Tuesday next st 10 o’clock, will be an opPorv.uuity scldom offered for bargains in ladics’ and gents’ furs. TLadies and gentlemen will ind the best as- nortin::m nndd‘fmwefib dstyl{es ufb hruhher boo‘t:; vershoes, and all kinds of rubber :'en;: holsn’ua presents, ctc., at Hallock, Holmes & Co.™s, 90 State street. 3 Something new and very desirable in the fur- nin?re line nzre the cheeker, cribbage and card 1ables, varying in price from $2.50 to $15, for salo ab the furniture establishment of Colby & Wirtz, Noé. 217 and 219 State street. The stuptdest boy that ever successfally re- sisted the attempt to propel the etymology of the word ** baker™ iuto his intellectual system will displuy more ingenuity and knowledge of strategy in robbing an apple-orchard than the Colonel of a militia regiment. New classes are_being formed _every day, 80 parents need not delay sending their sons now 1o H. B. Bryant's Chicago Business College and English Training School. Present your son or fricud with a scholarship,—they will derive beneiits from it as long as they exist. Merchants, bankers, insurance, and railroad mv:ncshoulgs;cnd to Gamcron, Amberg & Co. 84 Lake strect, for a new work on * Letter Filing.” It thoroughly explains by means of illustrations, diagrams, etc., 8 great many new gystems, is clegantly gottenun, and sent iree on application. 3 The unbounded popularity attending the ex- celleat Wurkm:msb?n ‘and 10w prices of Dr. M- Ciiouney, corner of Clark and Randolph streets, {5 attested by the fact that he and his assistants are doing at least one-third of the dentistry of Oliicago, o full mew best set 83 Gold-filling warranted at half price. e —————— CHARLEY AND WALTSR. it e inanguration of the mew cigor store O Mgrs. Charles Clayton and Walter Williams, at 53 Madison street, opposite McVicker’s Theatre, last cvening, was an entire success. The gentlemanly proprictors Were abundant- 1 provideds, With excellent wine -oud c{r‘m for ® the occasion, and dis- peased the ‘hospitalities with princely profusion. Cuarley and Walter cannot 1ail to succeed in their new venture. They have 8 most inviting stock of all qualities of “the weed. They. de- serve, and command, the patronage of their friends. “JOHN BROWN’S BODY.” Seventeenth Anniversary of the Execution 6f the Great Abolitionist. A Bketoh of the Bfil.id on Harper's F;m'y and the Capture of the Invaders, An Interesting laet;xre by Mr. Zebina Eastman., It 18 to bo feared that very few people knew, or recollected if they did know, that yesterday was the anuiversary of the day on which John Brown’s body swung to the breeze on the gal- lows at Charlestown, Va, Forgotten by the many, it was, however, remembered by Mr. Z. ‘Eastman, who, in accordance with his custom for many years, did something to refresh thic memory of the old Abolitionists by delivering a lecture last evening at Plymouth Church on “John Brown.” . Mr. Eastman’s.audienge was a small one, but was nevertheless very appre- cmivci much totne gratification of the lecturer. The following is an abstract of the gentleman's it spoatir beeen I Lhe speaker began by quotin, from the poet ‘Wordsworth's m!drcss)u:] .\_[i_ltofi: L John Brown! thon shouldst be living at this honr! . Return to us agains - And give us mauners, virtue, frecdom, power. by soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hudst 2 voice, whose sound was like the sea. Shall we make this appeal from Plymouth Church on the 24 day of December, 1576, and | call back this gallows-tainted calprit from a | dishonored grave, to teach us manners and give us virtue, and freodom, and power? It fs just such a lesson as this which we need. ‘W want again_the revival of the spirit that actuated -;IB‘III Brown in the body, and set his sonl march- ng on. This day is the seventcenth anniversary of the execution of this man. We might say he died seventecn years ao, and use g term thit would it the eud'of all men, good or bal, But baving no wish to soften the background of the past, we say the exccution, and are here to commem- orate it. " But, though he was hung, he did not commit suicide; nor was he suspended by stealth, as sometimes at daylight the body of a horse- thief, or perhaps a black voter, Is scen dangling from the limb of o tree; but he died on u con- stitutional gallows, under judicial condemna- tion, after as fair a trial os could be had under the circumstances. He was convicted of con- splmcyf‘msurrcctlun, murder, and treason. A multiplicity of crimes was heaped upon Lim. He was no insignifieant transgress- or. Then it was against the State of Virginia that he conimitted these crimes. [ He'is the only man I ever heard of who was ever adjudged a traitor in this country, and Eumslu_:d assuzh. The great Rebellion, costing undreds of thousands of lives, did not legally punish one traitor. It is all to be played over again before we shall ever know officially whether'we huve any traitors among us. John Brown’s treason was in devoted attachment to the ductring of the eguality of all men, and this doctrine was once supposed to -be the corner- stono of this Republican Government. Vir- ginia said ler laws and dignity asa State re- quired that John Brown should die, and s0 she was satisficd and satiated with her justice. We have no complaint to make of her treatment of John Brown, if she could afford it. The real matter was tried before the world and posterity, and the verdict has been coming in ever since, and it is not all in yet. b ‘What changes have come about in these sey- enteen a’cnrs? What revolutions that ore not confined to our own country! Of the overturn- ings that have taken place bere, how much turned upon that event at Harper’s Ferry and i supplomented at_Charleston, of which John Brown was the central figure! And Plymouth has not been withqut its ¢change and progress also. She once took a little. stock in John Brown’s fate._ Thoughts like these, the marvel- ous changes, Brown’s truthfulness to ‘himsclf and the bour, and what he bore in ‘hisuncrushed Christian manhood, are lessons irom which we would derive some profit on this occasion. Ou the evening of that execution, Dec. 2, 1859, when the telegraph had confirmed what was ecxpected they would do that day to Jobu Brown, an important meet- ing which had previously been called, wos beld in Plvmonth Church—this church then worshiping in a low, wooden building on the corner of Edina and Van Buren strects—to do something or say something about that exe- cution. Low-pressure men micht well have asked what had Plymouth Church to do with the execution of any man in Virginia? Thei had no very definite idea of what thc{ would: attempt to do. I cannot say that this. was meant for a ratification meeting, or an indigna-~ tion meeting. There is onc thing a people as- sembling ina .church, oras g chureh, cando on all oceiasions with propriety—they can pray. That was a mecting, however, of Plymouth Church, and of members some of whom are of the brethren that worship here now, while some have left, and more have eone to their last sleep. Tt was called a prayer-meeting; but it was o John-Brown meeting, and of a spirit_that bad often mingled in meetings in that house before. . Jobn Brown’s footsteps hadbeen heardin that building, ard the slow- measured tones of his mild voice had been heard in its little prayer-room. This mectins had been called in’ the preaching-room, ‘whicl now would be dignified here as thie_auditoriuw. Tt was called by the young, enterprising pastory ihe Rev. J. E. Roy, now havinr a D. D. to his name, and was approved by the brethren of the church. When John Brown stood upon the gallows, this church did vot hesitate to stand up officially for him. That was taking a posi- tion, and, as St. Paul says, to stand. It was a prayer-meeting; it was one of conference, and such a one as were those when prayer-inectings were first projected. When Christ went to the tomb and ascended from it, the disciples met to- grther to pray and comfort each other. Thiswas one of mou and cousceration, and_inquiry of God, Whiat, shall be done? It was an ap- peal to God to _come 85 2 living power to the pation. ‘The fact is, the simple-minded people there thought that it was a shocking thing to baug & man for the very act that was aimed to Iiberete those in_bonds. They. used to pray in that room that they might remember those in bouds as bound with them. There were mem- bers in that church who believed that the nation wes 8 PRIFTING ON PERILOUS TIMES, and that fearful events werc pending. One of the members had said in the prayer-meeting some years before, when Lawrence wis sacked, it seemed that God -had abandoned the natfon to itscif, had ceased to hear the prayers of His people, nd the outrages in Kansas would go on Bhth the citizens of other States would feel at their firesides what the peop ¢ of Kausas were then made to fcel. But prophets did not live in fhose doys. Ths meeting was attended by Christians _of many denominations and colors blending. It was a public mecting. ot of protest, for they had waited till after the deed was done, for they would let Virginia go on in her way in the administration of her jus- tice. There came s house full. There were Baptist brethren, Mcthodistsand Presbyterians; and the avenue folks Irom the other side of Btate street, the relizious and fashionable dead- line. Andour brother Robert Collyer came also among them, a8 he told us two or three vears ago he attended such a meeting, but, be- ing a modest man, he did not tell us where the mceting was held. ‘And the men of the world, ind the politicians, and those by the hedges and way-side, they came in and the house was filled. _Among these came the stalwart form of John Wentworth, who had been ‘‘our mem- ber; and_he did not linger by the door-way, but pressed on pear to Brother Loy’s platform, o4 there e spoke in_meetipg, as did mauy others who were not often 2% i‘l)‘moufll athi- erings; and they prayed as well as exhorted, ‘But Stephen A. Douglas was hot there. The o Thiluots giants of Democracy, the little one and the great one, had some time before parted company, Dot QUIte O amiacably as did “Abro- ham and Lot, on ‘that issue which had culminat- ed that day in John Brown’s fate, the one going South, the other North. 1f Douglas had found it advisable to have remainei in compzay with IWentworth, his chances for the Presidency would have been better, for ch}twor:h was & very-good Warwick. ' Then the Kausas_conflict might not have come; John Brown might_have ontinued a zdod shepherd to_tend Gerrit Sonith’s black sheep_in Northern New York; he might pot bhave dicd at Charlestown_as the forerunper of the_ slave’s deiiverers Liucoln might not snd Douglas night have been elected President; the Retellion might not bave eome; and the slaves might not have been emancipated! Oh, that word *might,” or the “imight not.” What words of mighty import! That day, the 24 of December, scventeen years 220, in all the latter part of it. through‘au.t The North. was dark, chill, dreary, and rainy. Tn thie fore part of the dax, st Charlestown, the weather was warm omd Supny, like a June morning, so that the inhabitants threw open their windows t let In the chieering atmosplicre and the soft sunbeams; and the birds sang & pew song. - Thus was_the day where John Brown spert his last hours. entering even to the prison cell; and so it continued, and so he found the outside world, when he went out and took his Iast ride. It was only after he badseen tho sunbeams dance upon. the banuers, aud gleam from tho polished bayonets of the soldiery that surrounded the stage on which he performed the last act of his tragedy, that, lift- ing ves towards the North, and’ following the way his loving wife had taken on their re- turn to their home in North Elba, he to follow at the next traiy, and his eyes resting over the stre of Hurper's Ferry, uput the notch of the Blae Ridge, there Le could see 3 cloud gather- ing, the precursor of a etorm. Nothing more of its durk shadow over the frec States was he permitted to sce. As if that cloud were the progenitor of all, it seemed to spread over the whole north country, and cover it with a pall. Whether they bad sunshine or storm in the slave country I know not; it matters little, It was generally known over the whole land that this ~ was the exccution day, and that ao. great . national criminal woulll expiate his crim¢ upoy the rallows, and, the decd done, the nation wonld have rest from all such pestilentinl fellows, to a disturbed conscieuce is- the somebudy clse is to be hung. Our citizens thought of it only as if the mur- derer of John Smith were to receive his just do- serts. But in many places from Maine to Min- nesota there was an unlooked-for expression, moan in the atmosphore, and the bells of the churches sent out i solemn wail, as if struck by unseen hands. A prominent man of Elgin, then an uncom- promising Democrat, since an ellective officer in the army in suppressing the Rebellion, said to me; “ You cannot imagine my abhorrence and indignationwhen T heard that day the bell of the Copnaregational Church ring on the execution of John Brown. He was no more to. me than any murderer, but a bad man as a plotter and an’ insurrcctionst. It is now as much an aston- ishment that I felt 80, Our friend Orlando Davidson, the banker there, one of the carly. members of this church, who knew what the chivalry would do that day to Jolin Brown, was the one . **That told the eexton, * And the sexton tolled the bell. The bells in Chicazo which did not toll were those in_the church-steeplés, The meeting in Plymouth Church was the expression of the people. of Chicago, who saw the matter from one side; and they were not numerous but rap- idly growing in numbers. Plymouth Church Jad o bell; it had no steeple. It was not on - the ovenue side of State strcot. It had becn ganized to express an jdes. That idea was _ unpopular. Some broud-cloth called it -a mnizger church, =and thought that was a word that would kill.: The church did not prosper in a worldly seuse. Byt Brother Moody first pitched his tent there in Chicago. It liad its mission; it bada testimony tobear. That night I Lave spoken of it bore ,ita testimony. Over Jobn Brown's body the church’s {dea was aliving power. There was soon a chanze in the opinfons of the public. Plymouth Church soop took the road to pros- Ecmy, and_ mever weut back upon itself. It ook up its line of march to theavenues. It safcly pussed the dend line of State street, and it has traveled on and up the avenue and pros- perity to success, till it here where we sce it. As one of its oldest members and originators, and who worshiped in_its wooden structures, first on Dearborn and Madison streets, then on Van Buren, I rejoice at its prosperity, and have love and reverence for Piymouth Church as it was, and as it is, and as 1 Liope ever may be, After scventeen years, having bad the first meeting in it of this character, we lave come a to hold another meeting, and to mark the changes that God Dhath wrought in these fey vears; and believing thaghe is livin% at this our, 0s our invoeation says, we bid Jolm Brown return-to us sgain and give us virtue and power.. The world needs the spirit of the olden and the better day. Plymouth Church needs it for the strengthening of her character, for the emulation of her younger members, who -need the example of theé old man in moral integrity, self-sacrifice, and f breadth of manhood. know of ng fitter place in which te hold this an- nual meeting. I thank the Trustees and the Soelety for this privilege. To bring out the lessons we need, it is_not necessary_to recite the literal story of John Brown. While ke is a character well known, of all our great and little men he is perhaps least understood. He is a sort of mythical character. To uuderstan@@him it is necessary to_under- stand the time™in Wwhich he lived, and the con- fiict of fdeas, and the peculiar state of the coun- try that would call out such a man to tako his stand as a2 = REPRESENTATIVE MAN ON THE SCAFFOLD. He is commonly understeod as one who fills a pnrngr?lph in the political controversies of Kan- sas, and attempting toget upaslave insurrection in Virginia, is frustrated, captured, and execut- ed. Iis biography is curtly written in the song which his death became the inspiration. Tt illustrates the power of song as agalnst the power of law-making. When the subject of commemorating the unniversar{ of his execu- tion was mentioned, we were told by some that John Brown had p‘a_\'ad—out; it was better to Jet him rest. Others said he was crazy, and the jife of a madman could furnish no examples for imitation. But such a lifc of devotion, such resignation in view of his fearlul end, such a life free from shame, and such s foresight to ap- preciate moral action on future events, it were a great pl:§ to smother under the assumption of insguity. If such_ were madness, it is a pity 1more were not mad, and madly in earncst. The speaker said he would not dwell upon a biognpglml skotch of John Brown. This had been done on previous occasions. He gave s pen-picture of the wam, an outline of the na- tional issues involved in the Kansas question, -from which politicans had shirked, and invite« 2 sottlement in a free fight on the borders of civilization, on the prairies of Kaosas. This Dbrought John Brown to the front. The great action of hislifewas in the national transfer of ilis contest back to its appropriate fieid, and where the evil existed to be oyerthrown. John Brown’s anti-slavery principles were to over- throw slavery, and in that di cred from almost all classes of Abolitionists. it was s thing to malke dircet war upog. Diverging from the line of argument, be sud- denly drew & sketch.of the ‘beautiful town of Harper’s Ferry and its picturesque scenery, 6it- ting Tike a queen among the hills, comparing it with the scenery of the Old World, and only wanting the ruined castles and broken walls to Temind one of Switzerland, or the Rbine, or Wales and Italy. Now, behold, there is Har- per’s Ferry of to-day, with all the ruins tobring o mind the conflict of rights and wrongs in the past ages. Whence has come this ruin and dis-- aster? On the 18th day of October, 1859, Toe Cnr- cAGo TRIBUNE published this dispatch from :Bnltlmuri: "An imsufrection is reported to have taken place at Harper's Ferry, Thave taken posscesion of the United States Arsenal. . The express train had been fired into, and a person killed. There are said to ba 200 whites Witha gangz of negroes. “This is followed by a sort of postscript, which says there is not much in tho report. Then comes: ) Second Dispatch—Baltimore. —It appears that the affair at Harper's Ferry is more serious than people are willing to believe,” The telegraph wircs have been cut. . There is ne communication with the town. There is a ramor of & stampede of negroed from Moryland. Many wild rumors are afloat. Keports like these, many of them much more | start-ling, were sent to sli parts of the country, andthe information came like a thunder-clap, that something had struck Harpers 'erry; an josurruction—a stampede of Degrocs, e fhe " fearful evils that had disturbed the night and day dreams of the slaveholding regions. But it was not yet koown who these enemies were. But like descents had been made on Kansas, and there Was no negro scare. Soon it was known John Brown was there. Then the panic in the slave-region was still more fearful. ‘But this fearful invasion of Northern Aboll- tlonists consisted of seventeen white persons; and of_these whites six, with himself, were of Jolin Brown’s family. It scemed tobea family warfore,—John Brown aud fumfly against the State of Virginia. Following this most singular of battles, the capture of Harper’s Ferry, which was held mearly two days, the surrender of Brown is effcctell. His followers are all buteh- ‘ered, except the three or four that were with him intrenched in the engine-house. He is wounded after surrender, and is drawn and ina fainting and almost dying condxuond where, after he lias revived, he is punctured an cfitivised, and put under the inquisitorial pro- cess, to find out first who ke i, and for what nrpose he is there, and who sent hum to Harp erry. Gov. Wise, Scnator Mason, uf the rugi tive Slave law, and Vallandigham. the Cuypc:- Lead of Obio, are the chief inguisitors. They find out that he is John Brown, of Kansas, whom they are very courteous to address as Captain, and that 1o man sent him to Kansas: it was his own impulsc, or the promptings of b Maker or the devil, just as tney choose to have it. He had come tlere to frec the slaves. He had done that which was perfectly right. He did not meaa to kill any of their people, but as thev stood in the way of Lis G -deserted mission, they were compelled to do it in self-defense. Jolin Brown was discovered to be 8 great mau; the chivalry respected bravery, and they pre- cerved thelr captive to grace 3 triumphal pro- cession and for a greater sacrifice. He had cap- tured Lewis Washington, the descendant-in-law of Georgze Waskingion, and took the sword of Frederick the Great, and with this sword John Brown commanded his little arimy. - The raid was made on the night of the 16th of October. He was taken on the 1Stb. On the 10th, just delivered from a dying condi- tion, Brown and those taken with him were taken to the Cbarlestown juil. On the 25th they were brought up for preliminary examiua- tion,—the wounded ught into court chained to those not wounded. . On the second day Armed bands of Abolitioniats * Brown,was, brought in onacot. He regarded the scene 18 ope in which he had bug tittle in- terest. \When spoken to about the formality of the trial, he said, for their sakes, If they were to try him 4t all, thoy had better give bim a fair trial, and time to prepare for it and obtain coun- sel from the North, for which he had already sent. But if it were to be a mere mockery, then it was their businegs, and they might v on. Then Gov. Wise lad ' pledzed him a fair and honorable trial. But he had o favors to ask of the State of Viginia. 1f it was Dis Llood thng wanted they wight take it; e was ready to be offered. ~ On the 27th he was put on his final trial. He had no request to make 8s to counsel in defense—Lhis own not havivg arrived. In the attempt to do some- thing Tor him, the attorneys appointed by the Court, lawyer-like; set up a plea of insanisr. Broyn had_lain upon i cot, with his blanket covering himself from Tcet to chin, taking no more Interest than if John Smith, not John Brown, were on trial, raised himscl( up in indiz- nation, and declared himself perfectly saue, and sail that he despised all tlmt“i(nc of defense. He had come to their State with A DELIBERATE PURPOSE; he had come there to free the slaves and not to murder; he had killed nobody: bat if he had violated any of the laws of \»’ugmh he was wmiuim take the consequences. If hanging was their object, that they could do with or without a trlal. e soid b was perfectly un- conscious of insanity, and *I rejeet, so faras I am capable, any atiempt to interfere in my be- half on that score.” John Brown was a very troublesome customer on the hands of the Court, to be tried for his life. _No doubt it would have spared the Court and Virrinia a “sea of troubles if they could have made John Brown crazy. An insane asy- Jum would have been o safe hospital to which the State itself might bave gone with its sore conscience. 3 ‘The course of law running its ',grupcrlength, Brownisof course convicted. Being brought up to receive sentence, he is taken by surprise at the suddemness of it, but having recovered partially from-his wounds,” yet still fecble, he approaches the table before’ the Court, as if about to say grace. With a fecble and some- what tremulous voice he responded to the Court in a specch, which is onc of the very few great specches which were cver made. “I have, may it please the Court, a few words to say. In the first place, I deny everything, except what Ibave all along admitted—the design to free theslaves. . . . Iuever did intend murder or treason, or the destruction of property, or to excite slaves to rebellion, or to make insurrec- tion.” He had only acted in hiélping the poor and fricndless, and in domg that had done as we would be done by. After the trial, came of course the execution, He was goodness and dignity to the end. A stranger in the audience recalled a portion of his'own_personal _expericnee, relating an in- stance in Virginia, where he had been to a Meth- odist prayer-meeting where John Brown was. It was at this meeting that the gentleman felt that he became converted. He added that Le had been permitted to eat and sleep in the same house with Jobn Brown, and he trusted toagzain mect hini some day in the world beyond. A vote of thanks was then passed to Mr. East- ‘man, after which the audicnce joined in singing ancw version of *John Brown’s Body,” and dispersed. . —————— HOW TILDEN MANAGED THE POOLS. Sworn Statement of a Clerk of the Demo~ cratic. Committee—The AMiserable Systom of Fraud In the Pool-Rooms. New York Times, Dec. 1. The following important statement, sworn to by a clerk of the Democratic State Committee, shows the despicable method by which Mr. Til- den’s friends manipulated the pools in his in- terest. Tho plan was part and parcelof the peneral scheme of fraud through which Mr. Tilden hoped to steal his way into the White House. The statemént is furnished by Col. Drake De Kay, with the following letterasa Teply to_many Inquirics made of the Veteran Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Committee: Ux10¥ VETERANS' NATWONAL COMXMITTEE, NEW Yorr, Nov. 30, 1876.—70 the Veleran Soldiers and Sailors (—Cownapes: These headquarters have been in receipt of many letters from you ask- ing information as to the modus _operandi of the pool betting in this city during the late_campaien, the quotations of which had injurious effect inyour respective States. These letters remained uman- swered becauee of our Iack of accurateknowledge, the pool-rooms boing ali owned and controlled by Democrats. This information is now obtained and conveyed to you, in reply, by the following sworn statgment of 2 cll engaged In the manipnlation of the pools as an at- tache of the Democratic Committee, gives a lucid cxplanation of the mysteries of the pools. The original afidavitis on flle at_these headquarters, &nd you may place full confidence in ita trath. Fraternally vours, DRARE DE KT, Sec. Vet. Committee and Adj. Gen. Boys in Blue. STATEMENT OF MR. L. WAITZFELDER, CLERE oF DEMOCRATIO STATE COMMITTEE. State of New York, Cily and County of New Yorl, ss.: 1. Waitzfelder, being duly aworn, de- pores and says: At about the time Hayes was selling shesd in the pools in thiscity, I should think sbont three or fonr weeks before the elec- tion, the Secretary of the Democratic State Com- mittee, W. W. Gordon, had been going up to the pool-room regularly for the purpoze ‘of bulling Fefiden in the oetting -morket. This continued ander my observation, The way. the thing was done was as follows: Mr. Gordonand two of his Committee clorks (Mr. Coggesshall, Mr. Rob- insom, or myself) to the Mor- risgey pool-raom, 5 the clerks would then buy Hayee tickets and Mr. Gordon would buy Tilden tickets; for example, as follows? Clerk No. 1 would bid $50 for Hayes, Clerk No. 2 would then bid 353 for Tilden, Mr. Gordon would then Did $30, and Clerk No. 2 would bid again, faking the odd number and Mr. Gordon the'even until Mr. Gordon had bid $60, the maximum sgrecd upon; then Clerk No. 2 ceased bidding, and the tickot would be knocked down to Mr. Gordon, making an apparent bet of 360 on Tilden azninst $50 on Hayes, or $120 to $100 in favor of Tilden's dlection. In' this way.Tilden became the favorite the betting, which bats weré wired all over . the United States, it being an _ ackuowledzed importsnt ' part of the Demogratic campaign to cpture the,floating vote by false quotations in _the betting market. Thege manufactared guotations were gent by Mr. Morrissey every night to Mr. King, Clerk of the National Democratic Committee, and by him were at once telographed through the Unitcd States to the Democratic newspapers, 1 bava been sentmy- relf by the National Democratic Committec to zet these quotations, which I got from Mr. John Mor- rlssey and gave them to Mr. King, and thoy were ‘prompuly telegraphed all over the country. 1. WAITZFELDER, o, 246 Weet Fafty-third street. Sworn before me the 20th day of Norember, 1870. Hexny P. WELLS, Notary Public Kings County. Certificate filed in New York County. — ——E————— CANINE SAGACITY. Three Extraordinary Dog Stories. Chambers’ Journal. The first case, illustrating the remarkable and almost human reasoning powers of dogs, occur- ed at a fashionable watering-place on the east <oast of Ireland, & few years ago, in which was shown bow a dog will carry out the dictates of the animal passion for revénge. The jetty which stretehed along the small harbor was at that time used as a promenade by the elite among the sojournerson the coust, where, after the heat of the long summer days, they regaled themselves with the fresh evening breezes walt od in from the sea. Among the Irequenters of this fashionable resort was a gentleman of some sition, Who was the owner of a fine Newfound- m]d dog, which inherited the time-honored pos- sessions of that noble breed—very grest power and faclity in swimming; and, at” the period of the eveniug when the jetty was most crowded with promenaders, his_master delighted to put this animal through a serics of aquatic performances for the entertainment _of the assembled spectators. Amusement being at a premium on the coast, these nightly performances grew into something like an ** in- stitution,” and the brave ‘*Captain —for such ‘was his nn.me—-spcv.-di?' became a_ universal fa- vorite on the jetty. It happened, however, that smong the new arrivals on the coast there came a certain Major in her Majesty’s army, ac- companied by two bulldogs of unusual size and strength, and of great value; but, value in 8 bulldog being inversely proportionate to its beauty, the appearance of the Major and bis dogs excited mo very enthusiastic pleasure among the esthetic strollers on the jetty. On the first nieht on which the Me:for presented himself, nothing unusual occurred; and Captain dived and. swam as before. But on tle second evening the brave old Iavorite was, walking quietly bebind his master down the jetts, wheu, as they were passing by the Major and liis dogs, one of these ugly brutes flew at Captain, and caught him by theneck in such a way as to render his great size utterly useless for his defense. . A violent stiucgle en- sued, but the bulldog came off the victor, for he stuck to his foe like a leech, and could only be forced to release his hold by the insertion ol abarof iron between his teeth. The indigna- tion of the by-standers against the Major was, of course, very great; and its fervor was nota Lttle increased when they saw the poor Caprain wending his way homesvard, bleeding, and bear- ing a!l the marks of defeat.” Some two or three evenings after this occurrence, when Captain sgain made his appearance cn the jetty, be Jooked quite crestfallen, bore it be- tween his legs, snd stock closely to the heels of his master. That eveniog passed away quietly, and the next, and the next, and 50 on for about aweek,—Captain still bearing: the aspect of mourning. 'But one evening aboat after the above encounter, as eight or ten days J 8 the Major was marching in his usual pompous accompanied by his manner along the jetty, ac 3 dogs, something atiracted his attention @ the in tizen, who, having been himself water, and walking to the yery edge of the jett; he stood fora momantlooh'e:g downinto thj-: ,ei Scarcely had the two bull-dogs taken up their stand beside their niaster, whon Captain, selzin; meop‘fortunl:y for which he had solong hwkef rushed at his former conqueror, snd, catching him by the backof the neck, jumped off the Jetty,withhis foe in hismouth, down sometiwen- :{; feot or more into the'sea. Once in the water, the power of his enemy was crippled, while Ca; tain was sltogetherin his own elenent; and, easily overcoming_all cfforts at resistance, he succeeded in resolutely keeping the bull-dog's head under water. The excitement on the shore was, of course, intense, The Major shouted, and called out: ** M{ dog! my beautiful dog! Will no one save him#” But 10 one_ seemed 8t all {nclined to Interfere, or to risk his life for the ugly doz. At length the Major called ont: “PR give £50to any one who will save my dog;"” and soon afterward g boat which lay at_ some little distance pulled up to the rescue. Tven then, however, it was only by striking Captain_on the head with the oars that he could be forced to relense his victim, which - was taken into the boat quite senseless from exhaustion and suffocation, and was with difliculty brought toitself again. Cap- tain, on the other hand, swam in triumph to the shore, amid the landits of the lslriectlwrs, ‘who shared, in sympathy at least, well-earned honors of revenge. 2 More remarkable than the sagncity in carry- ing out the desire for revenge displayed by the -Newfoundland dog in tbe above case, is that which the following parrative jllustrates: A entlanan of wealth and position in London iad, some years 4o, 4 country-house and farm about sixty miles from the metropolis. At this country residence he kepta number of dogs, and smonz them a very large mastiff and e Scotch terrler; and, at the close ofS2one of his summer: residences’ in the country, he resolved to bring his terriorwith hitn to London for the winter season. There being no railway to that particalar part of the country, the dog traveled with the servantsin a ost-carriage, and un his arrival ot the town- cuse was brought out to the stable, shere a large Newfoundland dog Was kept &s a watch- dog. This latter individual looked with any- thing but pleasure on the arrival of the little in- truder from the country; and consequently the Scotch terrier had not been very long in his new bome when this canite master of the stable at- tacked him, and, in the language of human be- ings, gave him a sound thrashing. The little animal could, of course, never hope hy himself to chastise his host for this inhospitable wel- come, but he determined that by some ageucy ,chastisement should come. "Accord- ingly. he lay very quiet that night in a remote cornerof the stable, but when morniog had full shone forth he was nowhere to be found. Senmg ywas made for him, as the phrase says, hizh and 1ow, but without success; and the conclusfon re- Tuctantly arrived at was that e had been stolen. On the third morning after his disappearance, - however, he again _showed himself in London, but this time not alone; for, to the amazement | of cvery one, he entercd the stable attended by the big mastilf from Kent. This great brute.had no sooner arrived than he flew at the Newfound- land dog, who had 50 badly treated his little tex- rier friend, and a severe contest eusued, which tile little terrier himself, seated at a short dis- tance, viewed with the utmost dignity and satisfaction. The result of the battle was, that the mastiff came, off the conqueror, and gave his opponent a tremendous beatina. When he great svenger from Keat scarcely waited to re- ceive the recognition of his master, who had been sent for immediately on the dog’s arrival, but at once marched out of the stable, to the door of which the little terrier gccompanied him, and was seen no more. Some few days af- terward, however, the zentleman received a let- ter from his steward in the conntry, informing him of the sudden appearance of the terrier thore, and his as sudden diseppearancc along _with the lurze maostiff: and stating that the latter had remained away three or four days, during which thev bad searched in vain for M’m. but had just then returned home again. It then, of course, became quite clear that the little dog, finding hims unsble to punish the town .bully, had thought of his “big brother * in the country, had traveled over the sixty miles which separatod them, in_order to qain bis assistance, and had recounted to him is grievance: it was plain. also that the mastiff had consented to come and avenze his old friend. had traveled with him to London, and, aving fulfilled bis promise, Lad returned home, leaving the little fellow free irom apnoyance in the futare. ‘The following well-known story is a strong example of the great intellizence which mey be developed in a dog by careful training: A fash- jonably-dressed English gontleman was one day crossing one of thy bridges over the Scine at Paris, when he f8lt something knock against his leg, and, looking down, he found that a small c-dog had rubbed against him snd covered his boot with mud. He was, of course, thuch annoved, and execrated the little brute pretty frecly; but when he got to the otherside ©of the bridge he had his boots cleaned at & stand for the purpose, and thought no more about the matter. Some days after this occur- rence, however, he had occasion again to cross that bridge, and the same little incident oc- carred. Thinking this somewbst odd, he Tesolved o watch” where the little dog went to, and, leaning ust the side of the bridee, he followed with his eye the move- ments of his dirty little friend. "He eaw him rub agaiust the feet of- one gentleman after an- other, till he had exbausted all the mud off his ouce white skin, then rush off down the bank of the river, and there roll himsel! in the mud col- Jected at the side. Having. thaus get anew sup- ply of dirt, the little animal ran up to thebridge avain, aud proceeded to_transfer it to the boots of the passers-by, as_before. Having watched ‘his movements for some time, the gentleman ‘noticed that on one occasion, instead of running down to the river, he went off to the proprietor of the stand for cleaning boots, at the otherend of the bridge, who received him very cordially. The truth then for the first time dawned oo him, that' the little animal belonged_to the man who cleaned the boots, and Was trained by him to perform these mis- chievous deeds, for the purpose of bringing in custom. - Being very foud of dogs, the Engilsh- man resolved to purchase this clever little fol- 1ow, and bring him back to England with ‘him, When, bowever, he went to the dog’s master, that person at first_denied any connection with bitn, and only admitted the ownership when he swas perfectly satisfied that his interrogator bad no connection with the police. For some time also he retused to part with the poodle, saying that no money could pay him for the loss of his dog, who really made his living tfor him. Tewpted, Lowever, by a_very ‘high price; ne at last consented to stll the dog; an the §cn7.lemnn, a few days _ afterward, brought .him over to England, traveling vis Boulogne to Folkstone. His residence in Eneland was some thirty or forty miles from Folkstone, and to_this_plsce he brought his ittle purchase. He had not been many days in his new home, however, when the littlo French poodle suddenly disappeared. Searchwas made for him everywhere, but to no effect. His new masteroffered a reward for him, but. with the same result; and he had at last made up his mind that the little fellow had been either poisoned or stolen, when one morning, about six weeks after hls mysterious disappearance, the gentleman received a letter from o friend in Paris telling him that his dog wes back sgain there, and at his old trade of soilin bootsinthe fnterest of his former master. The little fol- Tow, not liking tke dullness of a country life Yd recolved to return to his former bome, and had made his way to Folkstone; there, as the gentleman aftérwards ascertained, he had got on 2 steamer going to Boulozne, and from Bou- logne had found his way back to Paris. i the foregoing three storics the first two are probably even more remarksble thad the lnst. The lust (cxcent-as to the dog’s finding its way back to Paris) illustrates only the possi- bility of developing fn a dog, by the training of its nataral intellizénce, an almost human in- ennity. But it is by instilling into the dog the %ntelu"ence of a higher being that this skill Is cngendered: -The spring of the intelll- gence {8 in the trainer, and it is o attain an_ object which the higher being, and not the lower, has in yiew. But in the first two cases the whole process is the dog's; the object to he secured, pamely, revenge, is what the doihlmsnu seeks, and the means by which that object Is to be attained are devised nd carried out by the instinct of the dog. That 2 dog should hagbor revenge is, of course, not 3 sery wonderful fact; but ‘there is a calm reflec: tion and a cool calculation displayed in the first two cases above given, Which make them some- what peculiar. [f what we call instinct in these animals embraces powers 8o very like reason; if they are swayed by the same passions and affec- tions which move us, and they are able to com- municate to their fellows the {eelings which stir them, and the external circumstances which bring those feelings into play,. the borderline between man’s mental territory aod theirs be- comes a little bit indefinite. —————— Something to Rally On. Desrols Free Pra Just before dmper yesterday a women liviog on Larned strect entered a Jefferson avenue grocery with snapping eyes, and as she slammed a tin paifl down on tlie counter hissed out: ¢ Mince meat isit? Why don’t you call it slop, or stuf, or hen.feed k “ Ry, that is some of the butcher, as he uncovered the pall. remember of your buying this yesterday.” ] brought this hash’ for mice-meat 1 -ghe, exclaimed. 41t is called mice-meat, madam.” «But it tastes like saw-dust and pork-scraps cho&pcd together!” ] shouldn’t wonder if it did, but you see our mice-meat,’” repl.lfi% hiad quite satisfied himself as to the result, this - most everyhody understands that read: mince-mert is spriply & unclens to rally on. It i3 the foundation, 85 it were,of a good thine. You want to add more meat, morc apples, morc raisins, some brandy, some cider, a little clo- namon, a fow cloves, a sprinkling of sugar. a tx;ifle“ot spice, and you can't fail to Lave good ples. “~Then why not make¢ my own mince-meat!” she shrieked, “Why not! Wo keep it on sale simlply as an objective point to rally op.” “Well, yowand ‘)l‘nm‘ whole caboodls af clerks can rally “on this lulf-zallon,” she firmly :aid; zurlning the pail upside down on the counter. *'Sust as you desire, madam,, was the af- fable repls, and whsn she reached the door and looked back the merchant still wore the same kind and patient smile. S e REALISM ON THE STAGE. Clara Morris Defines Her Method of Portray- ing Disease and Death—An Actress who Studles Natare Like an Artist—The Heart Disease in the Personatlon of Miss Malton. New York Datlv Graphic. Playgoers have been afforded some very nota- #ble illustrations of simulation of ilines & and death, as was stated In & comimunication pul- jished in thesa columns yesterday, but none- more vivid, as was, then set forth, than thoss surnished by Clara Morris in a serles of repra. sentstions, the last and greatest of which is Aliss Multon. Among foreign actresses of emi- nence particilar attention is paid to the subject, in stage delineation. Ristorl's powerful por- trayal of approaching dissolution and the “su- preme agony is _still fresh in - the winds 6f all who wittessed h.r Queen Elizabeth, and as the very antithesis of the effort of the great Ttatiin no better illustration could be furnished ia the sawme domain of art than the death scene of Mlle. Clarence, the star of last season’s Franch comedy season, as Frou-Frou, Ond was the going out of a strong, almost mascaline nature —a great strugele azainst the king of terrors, and a clinging to life that was full of despera- tion; the other was like a slgh—like the falling of the leaves of the little roses which the paor, sinful Parisienne declared in her last mo- ments should cover the dress that should be her shrond; and sgen on the same stage at a uo very distant period each from the other they assumed, through Ristori’s hoarse whispers and the strange metallic tones which Clarence em- ployed so_ effectively at the final moment, a eat significance. We have reason to believe, owever, that Clara Morris makes even -a mors profound study of disease and death with ref- erence to her stage personations than was evi- dent in either of the remarkable illnstrations wo have noted, In recentconversation the Aliss Aulton of the Union Square Theatre spoke on this subject as follows: It is unquestionable, I think, that an actress should bring to her aid every redult of observation in life that she may deemapplicable toher art. If she is assigmed a taskitis quite indisputable that she should perform it thoroughly. A painter weeks subjects everywhere, why should not an actor? I have made s particular study not only of insanity, in order o exemplify it in ** Article 47, but of discase and death, and the rzsults I have sought to portray in three_ plays—:* The Sphinx, ™ *Camille,” and now ‘‘Mius Multon.” Such deaths_as those of Madalein Morel or Cora, for example, of course do mot enter into tic field of inquiry; the heroine in such cases dics be- cause something must ba done with herunda speedy demise i3 a sufeand sure denouement. She dies the conventional stage death In the very nieht and Satarday matines style. But with flunche (**The Sphinx™), Camitle, and Aftas Multon, the case is quite différent. A FINAL STAGE EXIT BY POISOX. The death scene in ** The Sphinx " culled forth & great deal of condemnatlon, —my r little bit o chalk _was held as altogether too realis- c. 1 confess it was “mot a pleasant thing to do, but no matter how repulsive may be .the smbject given to your hand in the theatreit is part of one's duty to fuldllit. 'The text calied for death by polson, and death-by polson it was my mefier to illustrate. The. directions did not say exactly what poison. In some conversation with o physician, however, I_gave him the time that elapsed between the swallowinz of the drug and the death, and he said at once that it must be from either prussic acid or strychuine. Death from the former is attended by bat ulight strugyles; somie mgvements of the month are the sole indlca- tions 8f the final agony. ~The suCeror from strychnine, however, dies. in violent coutortions, and as this death was more, ef- fective from = stage standpoint I employed it. There was a slight shiver when the poisou s swallowed, and this was followed soon after bya clutching at the throat, dreadful contortions, and a foaming of the month. To produce the latter agreeable manifestation I employed a bit of challk, the same av that used fog face powdbr. One nigbt, dreadfal to relate, my chaik, which I always pluct on the table readyto snatch up and put in the mouth at the first necessity for what may be called tetanic action, mysterionsly disappeared. I shiv- ered 28 I drank tho water; I clutched at my collarette; but, !hhmn(nuioni when I put wy hana Where the chalk should have been it had disappesred. I strugzled - through.the rest of the scene—literally straggicd— as best I might, but it wus lame and impoteut sang the st se who came to ba shocked remained to be disappointed; the man who had his pen sharpencd for a treatise on‘offensive realisnf? if he was {ndeed there, must have gazed at Blancle aod declared that she was not a8 bad 03 sho was made outto be. When the cartain_fell Ialternately im- plored and demanded o bo told what decamo of my chalk. And after a protracted search some- body lifted the glass from the table swhere T had aet it down and disclosed some na white powder—all that remainad of the besutifl little piece of chalk which was destined for notier uses. I bad smashed it to atoms In putting down the glass, and it never piayed the part 1t was de- signed to in the ** realistic’’ drama. CANILLE'S CONSUMPIION. In the denth-scene of **Camille” 1 endeavored to portry the climax of a progressive disesse a3 it should be dgne. In the carlier scenes, whera the Deroine has, 23 13 stated, returncd to Paris from the south of France greatly improved, I only cough when she is under the induence of some great cxcitement, vie., at tho close of the dance and at the point when she is ex- posed to the night-sir atthe window. There are ‘two concha that distinguish consumptives—an almost incessant haeking cough and 2 more violens but only occasional one. 1 chosc the former, and thereby, while I spared the audience anuoyance, inflicted great Inconvenience and even pain on my- self. 1 have frequently Inin awake for honrs after the performance, unable to sleep from the disteesé infiicted by the forced conghing. In the lastactl endeavor to dapict the sufferings ea delicately a6 possible. lness from consumption might easify be represented in a manner that would utterly disguat an audience. 1 have Lnown of '8 representative of Camille managing the handkerchiof business soas to be realistic 1a- deed. There is one point that I bear in mind—thsi i that safferers from this disease frequently live several moments withont pain just.before death. You remember Camille rises and aay 1 foel no pain now!" This is the point when a deep bresth fstobe drawn.- There only remalns the awful rattle at the final gasp, This I faithfally depicted THE MEART DISEASE OP MISS MULTON. In the new play of **Miss Multon ™ the heroine suflers from heact disease, and L have taken groat Dains to study the symptoma and the mode of their expression. 1 have even had a woman brought to me who was aflicted with this complaint, und have noted how it manifested ftaclf. There are certain tricks, snch as pressing the Ieft hand suddesly to the heart, which betray the sufferer from hcart disease. At the end of the third act of -*Mixs Maulton,’ when the heroine isstrongly moved, thera is an illustration of the awlful heart spasm which generally proves fatal, and which few physiciana even have scen. Usually the patient dios before & doctor can be summoned. Oaly the other day, however, my physician was callea in to 2id & man who had been seized with 3 spasem of this kind. * lle found the anfferer clatch- ingat his chirt-coliar and fixed in the most fearful agony. Quick as thought,—without waiting to bare the man's arm,—he plunged & hyperdesmic instrament throngh his clothing into the flesh, and Dby miraculous chance saved hia Jife. Thcss %ho have witnessed this heart apasm_say that it chict distinetion from a fit is the awful conacionsuess tho eyes of the suflerer. This I try to prezorve in the scene in **Miss Multon® to which Irefer. Thronghont the fourth act Iendcavor to.rhow another symptom, —the coming of the heazt fnto tha throat and almost chokinz the sufferer whem ltmnflybnxc_itet‘!. 'l'hg_l T indicate throughort the speech beginning **For_six jmonths, patient, ro- shaned.™ Fhe death differsifrom other, deaths in thiat there 18 no strugsle—life goes out at once from every part of the body. and it falls inipand nerve- lese. Some »night I fear that Mr. Stoddart may faf} to support me at this point. and then I should certainly drop to the Boor ina little whit: beap. Another peculiarity of the death 15 that the patient dies with the palms ef the hands outward— not with the arms io & Datural positiun 23 fs the -ease in demlse from other discases. . 1 endeavor, in brief, fally to portray all these symptoms, aad althouzh they may not be noticed by the zencral public [am confident that they have their effect in making the g(emmmon 1n some degree distinctive. In ulton " there is the disadvantago of ne mention ©f the disease being named in the coyrseof U plece, and 1 think, too, that the pul quita undersiang the suddenness of the death— suchan *'out, bdef candle™ proceeding beiog of an abrapt nature quite unprecedented in stage Ce- misc. Lhave been told, huwerer, that physicians would recoguize the didease from my etforts, and Thin fa » ereat compensation for much thoaght and patlent labor. Rare Presence of Mind. Sacramento (fal.) Tnion. There can be noquestion that the escapeof perhaps hundreds of persons {row’ an agouizing death last Satyrday night is directly due to the rare presence of mind and promptitude ” exer- cised at a most critical juncture by same per- son. When the floor of the theatre fell into the stable below, carrving with it the eptire audi- ence and the performers, the zas cscaping from the broken pipes ienited, and in a few sevonds the whole mass of - ruins would have becu in a blaze, and the rescue of the wounded rendered impossible, if this man had not sprung to the metic and turned off the gas. To retain seif- posgession at such moments, and to be capabla. of dolng precisely the best thing under the cige cumstances, is given to very few. i