Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, September 16, 1877, Page 11

GES iI BETSEY PATTERSON. The First Wife of Jerome Bona- parte. Her Il!-Fated Marriage with a Puppet. of the Great Emperor, = Relations of the American Princess with the Family of the Napoleons. Her Visit to France After the Restora- tion of the Bourbons. Extracts from Her Letters to Lady Mor- gan, the Noted Irish Novelist. Madame Bonaparte’s Lasi. Meeting with Her Hus- hand, Seventeen Years Aller His Abandonment, Lippincott’s Magazine, Each year adds fresh interest to this remarka- ple womzn, whose story has been rehearsed in every land, whose personal traits still affurd food for social chronicle. Lady Morgan said, “ She pelongs to history; she lived with Kings and Princes, philosophers and artists; there is about her a petpetual curiosity and romance.? Specd- ing on to 8 rounded century of life, she is still moved to eloquent agitation in reciting ber ~ wrongs,—not merely those sustained at the hands ofthe Bonapartes, but THOSE INFLICTED BY WER FATHER. ‘William Patterson, son of a farmer in Donegal County, Ireland, was at 14 years of age sent to Philadelphia, and placed in the countive-house of Samuel Jackson, a shipping merchant. In 17% young Patterson embarked his property in France with re- powder for need of which the Colonies were criopled. ‘The supply arrived at a critical time,—Washing. ton, then before Boston, not having powder wherewithal to fire a salute. stopped at the West Indics, where he soon made $50,000; coming thence to Baltimore, where be soon acquired a million of dollars and ion. These facts are minutely set forth in bjs will, a remarkable ducument in complacedt personal detail > jn vessels trading turning cargoes of high social posi hisown Virtaes, he says: and ‘The conducthf my daughter Betsey has through life been sq disobedient that in no instance has she eversonsulted my opinion and feelings: her folly anqnisconduct have first to. last cost a but, yielding -to the dictates of ly large heart, he bequeaths her t wealth a few paltry houses De mortuis nil nisi denum: a bijane maxim; but, when a man de- me much wney;” from his and his ccl of wine! posits in thepblic archives his autobiography, we are incite to inquire of what worth may be fon, and what the enimus that the grave so cruel a shaft at his ue. That he was of strict in- ess relations, a citizen of nomean jown,” is true; but beneath this we find on contemporary 2 close and arbitrary in his jo means impeccable in morality. ets in light on his amicable do- His wife haying long ex- vd 2 wigora carriage, he at length im- his self-lan winged frot child's good vesrityin bu: “credit and respectable authunty 3 family, and One inciden: nestic_ relatifs. pres: _ ported an Engh churiot; but no horses were in answer forthcoming, to her remonstrancs he said: “1'Yer promised you any horses;” sv the chariugmained in the rest of the coach-house for came of thet jurdy, independent Scotch-Irish race that has ppled Pennsy valleys. Herfindmother, ia’s prosperops rs. Galbraith, was of remarkab)prce of character, taking a prom- inent part in Holutionary sion traversinbn horse stir, and on one occa- ack the then almost wilderness to fivass votes tor her busband’s election to whether by way of the b Assembly, which she won,— t urgument, or inthe felicitous iful Ductess of Devonshire is not recordedfu Mrs. Patterson—tender, ‘re- ligious, and -cultured—ber daughter owes her familiarityth English and French classics, becoming ve® in the Anne’s Augup ace, aud old to recite “ Maxint guide, tion of humarptives. logical mind fi prot memory that torzh mq, Youns’s *| ears.” owes her cynical appre: She po: k jous memory; while literature of Queen able when 10 years a_large portion of ‘itt Thoughts,” She lcarned ys? by heart.— to whom doubt- sed u quick, passing years feloped sparkling wit, fascinat- ing manoersji woman's crown of beauty. This gifted cf was repressed by her father ‘with strange #rness, as if unnaturally jealous of ber talent) what consisted her ‘folly, misconduct, self-will of 875 heart was se1 isobedience ??¢ irl could The wayward wrdly merit such 5 ed womnan- on which his ich ne instigated and urged forward, allurpy the alliance of bis naine with that already rfioing through the world, al- though fully ged of the being scorne marriage ebe First Consulbuld refus “Do not feabe replica y Napoigon. to her father, “Suppose the risk of his daughter Previvus to her oO receive me?” you shill come 15 back to me angored daughter.” While in [unique, suid “to a fer resid “Abt il mput une venance.”* I know the whom you mupirry.— son, of Balting? Young lady o! to *Jamiais je n'gerai une demoiselle ¢ caine.” “Ne “ Mademoisell Crest Fey nal previ th ir meeting, try-place. wher This enforced sequent on Jefs furtune, vd her d: Jerome ent of mariage de Bonaparte Baltimore, con- ,” rejoined the lady; and 1N THE WORLD, s Elizabeth Patter- ‘And so he first heard her lcrome'’s arrival Rubelle,—his father a mem- French Directury,—marri Baitimore, ed a uid, meri- sur,” replied she si belle que la voir whom Jerom userfrs. Patterson, with a mater- wishing to prevent augiter to her coun- remained until November. ion from the festivities con- arrival naturally «xcited the young girlgwas found by her brother in 3 tears. “Whds you, + sobbiagly disc! tw retom to ying, “Ma J femm, ientelle de pagne. Mune. Rubelle Fed her Miss Pattersonfed her races. Jorume ged, was pres he annoyance of the fair his rumored impertinence .fenume, turned from him even brusquerie, which, if ave been better designed; was captive. was attired in buff-colored rapery. a tace Hchu, and a trimmed with pink gauze companied the! Betsey, who, i in calling ber | with indifferent! mentous ovcasi silk, very scan’ huge Leghorn and Tong ostrpthers. ardent, but. grit one Mr. Patterson, Betsey to Vir effect, piquing Jaration on herb. arecluctant con! “ would probaife rou testable for mop this in he jin the State miliar, was cel Christmas Eve; astical, Nation: her woes, shi Meanwhile Jerome was Having was allowed Bets e, pourquoi ne re- 2” One morning, as carriage, in which as chaperon to tue nied, and ac- On this mo- The wooing was moment lukewarm, his generation, sent Miss ruse had the desired | yer into.an immediate dec- Mrs. Patterson yielded “Your father,” she said, into something de- may be for you a WARRIAGE, : which are historically fa- r father’s house on presence of ecclesi- dignitaries. There were only two ‘aids,—The Misses Brown, great folk of i,—and no groomsman. Jerome had igd tor her a superb trous- sean; but her ittire was a simple India quently worn,’ to the wniter avoid vulgar off beauty to fice.” ments are still {¢d, wedding-suit off and nd, truth to $3; Ie of any gown at all, chiefly an aid in setting lace, a row of pearls en- had fre- “hese bridal gar- as well as Jerome's embroidered purple in-lined . pointed skirts ‘suee-breeches and dia- ‘dered hair enhancing his rr wrote from Wash- “Jerome Bona- arms, Mr. Patterson » — Cataloruing a “T haye made the fortunes of tome, saved others from ruin, and found breadand employment for thonsands of my fellow-nprtals; and no one could ever say tome, ‘Neighbor and friend, you got the ad- vantage of Re, you acted ungenerously to me.’ parte and charming little woman,—just the figure and nearly the size of Theo:losia Burr Alston, by some thouvht a hittle like her; perhaps nut so well in the shoulders; dresses with taste and simplicity (by sume thought too free); has sense, spirit, und sprightliness.” Jerome now began to quake at Napolvon’s fulminations acainst his mar- riage, and, but for his spirited wife. would have Jonger delayed confronting the Imperial wrath. In 1595 they set sail from Philadelphia, but, be- fore reaching the Capes, a terrific gale drove them on a saudbank, eich moment threatening destruction.. Mme. Bonaparte’s courage SAVED THEIR LIVE: Clambering to the deck, she insisted that the sailors should man a boat. ‘¢Pray, are you is vessel?” asked the Captain. SAP “How do you prupose at he queried when at length it was launched. “You are to throw me in.” He. obeyed, but, in attempting to lower her from the ship, now nearly on its side, his strength failed, and she fell into the waves. Her wadded silk pelisse carried ler down, but as she rose the sailors grasped and hauled her into the boat. ‘ Where is Prince Jerome!” was her first. question at that peri!ous moment. They reached land through a dangerous surf, and forgot their drenchiuy in the hosvitality of 2 farm-house. “You irre- ligious little wretch!” said her aunt; ‘instead of kueeling in thanksviving for your deliver- ance, you are enjoying roast guose and apple sauce.” | Not disheartened by this ominous venture, in afew weeks they again embarked for Lisbon, where, after Jerome's desertion, bis wife re- mained for seven days, and then sailed for Amsterdam. As the Erin lay in Texel Roads, the Captain of a French frigate came duily to present “ses hommagesa Mile. Patterson,” and. to ascertain her orders for the day.“ Prison have no orders to give,” was her reply. ing the futility of opposing the peror’s decrees, and «justly apprehensive of personal peril should she force a land- ing on the Continent, she sailed for Dover: but here again she was immeshed in Bonaparte restrictions, us no member of that. family could evter England without permission he Government. Mr. Pitt, then Prime ister, sent a military escort, which lined tie way, keeping off the crowd thut strove to get a glimpse of her as she disembarked aud entered her carri At Camberweil, : HER 30N, JEROME NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, was born, cighteen months after her marriage. Two months later she sailed for the United States. Her father, in the marriage-contract, bad guaranteed to her certain property and $1,000 per annum; but on her return: he de- clined to redeem his promise, on the plea that her rejection by the First Consul, by invalidat- ing the marriage, had vullitied his” asreement with his child, whose misfortune he resented as acrime, Prince Jerome, at the birth of their son, sent hér a thousand suineas; and with this paltry sum she began life anew. Neither poverty uor tue — humiliating overthrow of her huppiness daunted this young creature’s spirit, which rose al- ways to thé occasion. When King Je- rome, after lis marriage with the Princess of Wurtemberg, offered his repudiated wife the Principality of Smalcand with 340,000. per an- nuin, her witty reply, that Westphalia no doubt was a considerable Kingdom, but not large enough to hold two Queens,” so pleased tne Emperor that he directed the French Minis- terat Washington, M. Serrurier, to intimate his wish to serve her. ‘*Tell the Emperor that I. am ambitious; I wish to be made a Duchess of France.” This the Emperor promised to do at alater moment, and offered her $20,000 down and a life-aunuity of $12,000, which @hc accept- ed, “proud tobe indebted to the ereatest man of modern times,” but with the proviso that the receipt tor payment should be signed by her as Etizabeth Bonaparte, which would be a virtual ac knowledgment of the legality. of her mar- riage and her claims on the head of the family. To this stipulation the Em- peror acceded, and until his abdication the aunu: was regularly paid. ~ Jerome was stung to @ ‘prot against her acceptance of aid from his brother while reject- ing his own, to which she retorted that” she “preferred shelter beneath the wing of the cagieto suspension from the pinion of the groose.”” Mme. Bonaparte now applied tothe Maryland Legislature FOR A DIVORCE, which was at once granted. itis action on her part was natural, but, as a matter of policy, questionable. His wiie by cvery law, human and divine, she could better h: guarded her sou’s interests, and even maintained her own rightful position, by ignoring Jerome's alliance with the Princess, which was regarded by Catholic Christendom as illegal, the Pope stoutly refusing to nuilify the previous mar- riage. = Mme. Bonaparte alw: forthe Empcror, despite the despotisin that shivered tne fair fabric of her life, seeking its ex- xigencies ot his anamolous position. During her residen e in Paris after the Restora: tion, Louis Dix-Huit,—Des Huitres, the wits vled him from -his inordinate love of oysters,—fancying that her presence would reflect. contemptuously on the late ‘“Cor- 3 usurper,” made Kuown his wish to see her at Court. This honor she declined, “not wish- ing to pose asa victim of Imperial- tyranny; she had accepted the Emperor's kindness, and ingratitude was not oue ot her vices.” Marsbal Bertrand,—“‘ faithful enone the faithless’? Na- poleun called bim,—who heard the last sizh of the great heart at St. Helena.visited this country thirty years ago, and requested an interview with’ Mme.- Bonaparte. “The Emperor,” be said, ‘had spoken of her talent with -admira- tion, tinged with regret for the shadow he had cast over her life, for he had heard of her gen- erous sentiments toward him, alluding to which he one day said, *Those whom I so wroused have forgiven me; thuse 1 overwhelmed with my bounty have forsaken me.’ ? Mine. Bonaparte bore uo inalice to Jerome, whose nature was not of heroic mold; and yet what touching professions of fidelity be sent her!—letters unsurpassed in manly tenderness. A few months after their separation, a gen- tleman writes of him: “He is al ing, vife! my dear little wife!’ Hs much alfected, and declares that he ‘shall for- er remember the shipwreck they had encoua- tered; how well on that trying occasion did she behave én danger was over, Le pressed her in his arms? “JEROME LOVED ME TO THE LAST,” says Mme. Bonaparie: “be thought me the est woman in the world, and the most ae to. the Princ he to the court-painter several miniatures of ime from which to make a portrait, which he kept hidden from the good Catherine.” With the return of the Bourbons, Mme. Bonaparte was free to tread the suil of France, und, among the throngs of lovely women who entered Paris ater Waterloo, she was no incon- spicuous furure. Portraits-and contemnorarics expresses enthus represent. her 23 uncommonly beautiful, svirited head crowned with waving br h large, lustrous, liquid, hazel eyes promising a tende y. that “did not exist; a moze Greek out- line; mouth rounded chin, nests -for Cupid; arms, bust, and to satisfy a sculptor. Surgeon-Genei vy, the medic: altendant at Su Heleua, meeting Mme, Bona- parte at dinner in Paris, requested: their host, Count Rechefoucauld, to intercede w the privilege of luoking fter studying her a moment, extraordinary! The bend of the nee tour of face. the pose of the head, even the manner of rising frum her chair, are singular in their resemblance to the Emperor.” 1 Duchess D’ Abraztes (Mme. Junot) des: her “ Memoirs” a meeting with derome, “who howed us a ature of his wife, the features exquisitely beautiiul, with a resem- Dlance to thuse of the Princess Borghese, which Jerome said he and many Frenchinen in Balti- more had remarked. ‘Judge," be said, replacing the portrait in his bosom, ‘if Ivan abandon a beme like her! 1 only wish the Emperor would consent to sve her. to hear her voice, but for a single moment. . For myself. LAM RESOLVED NOT TO YIELD.’ Walpole’s friend, Miss Berry, met Mme. onaparte mn the salon of Mme, Recamier. “who h her for : her manners are duucereu | herself, with "perfect carel saton a chabe longue, with a headache and twelve or fifteen incn, only two ladies being present,—Mme. Moreat, and Mrs. Patterson, ife of Jerome Bozaparte, who is ex- ceedingly pretty, without grace, and not at alk shy. . + - Mine. Recamier is Me beauty. of this new world, if she can be called handsome; thinking mach of sness about others, she has pretensions as well founded as the ex-w for, besides being a beauty. to bel esprit; they my the other, yet not sufficient to burn her for a witch.? Now, ¥ Berry—called the black- Berry, in contradistinction: to. her duller sister, whe goose-Berry—was jaundiced in ber estima- tion of botk ‘veautics, and Mme. Bonaparte Dears tribute to “that rare loveliness of temper and tact in displaying the good qualities even of rivals that were potent. weapons. in Re- camicr’s quiver of charms.” Miss Berry’s dictum is also outweighed by the homage ving sigh,” that '¢ anxious that Mme. Bonaparte should know rene? No, no,” she replied: “De Stoel est une colosse qui m’ecrascrait; elle me trou- verait une jolie bete et je veut pas etre tuce a Paris par ce mot-ia.” THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON succeeded Napoleon in his residence at the Elysee-Bourbon, since then fitted up as the wer-palace of Ewgenic, and now the bead- dostels of President MacManon. Gay, fickle ious of disaster. Was shouting ho- gannas to the victor of its erewhile idol, and in of Mme. de Stael’s ew h she “would willimgly exchance her genius for Recamier’s beauty." Mme. Recamier | nival of fetes those of the Duke were ‘passively magnificent Mme. Bonaparte de- scribes Wellington as ‘short, erect, spare of figure, with long, pale face, thin-lipped, obsti- nate mouth, small, light eves, high, sharp, an- gular nose, the head- disproportionately large, and as squarely flat as an Indian’s, reverence aud benevolence being undeveloped. quiet in voice and greeting, simple and high- bred in manner, there was in. this reticence 2 suggestion of reserved force exceeding- ly attractive.” At one of these balls Mme. Bo- naparte was seated in conversation with the handsome and fas-inating Lord Castlereagh, when Mme. a¢Stael approached, and, stopping in front of her, gazed steadily for a moment; then, turning to her son, Baron de Stael-Hol- stein, on whoze arm she ieancd, an intimate friend of Mme. Bonaparte, she said, ‘Oui, elle » est bien, bien jolie, and walked off without au- otber word. Near by sat Lady Morgan, whose success, literary and social, was phcnome- As. Sidney. Owenson, soon after the jd I Girl?? made her famous, she sat awestruck opposite to Dr. Johnson at a large London dinner, when suddenly, to the terror of the child, untamed as her own heroine, burly Samuel called across. in severe tones, ‘Little girl! little girl! where did you get so many hard words? “Please, sir, in your dictionary,” was the naive reply that disarmed .the Jexicogra- pher. In Lady Morgan’s * Memoirs” we read: “Mme. miparte, wife of Jerome, who bat abandoned her in a-cruel and das- tardly way, was vot of the pate out of which victims and) imartyrs are made. She held her difficult position with a scornful courage that excites pity for the woman’s nature so seathed und outraged. Her letters bear the impress of a life run to waste : they are clever, mordant, and amusing, but the bitter sense of wrong cannot be concealed: there is 2 dissatis- favtion—one might almost call it jealousy—in the topics discussed.” Mme. Bonaparte Keeps her friend au courant with Paris gossip, but we have only space to glance at the revelation of her WEARY, EMPTY HEART. : “Pants, Novermber, 1316.—Dear / Thave executed all your commissions ¢: aupresde Mine. de Gentis. I have been so un- well it has been impossible for me to visit the penitent at the Carmelites. I meet the Princess de Beauveau every week at Mme. Rumford’s, where there is au-assemblage of gens @ esprit,— not that J call myself one of them.“ How- ever, people say that Iam very good, which is my passport to these reunions. I have been aski after the Novice of St. Doimi- nic, has not vt been _ seen by [William Pitt read this no di = dy Morgan : cept that 4 which ny of your friends. for the fiith time a few days before his lexth.] I have been very triste: tout m’eunuie dans ce mondeci, et je he scais pas pourquoi, unless it be the rezollection of what I have suf- fered. I think the best thing for me is to re- turn to my dear chill. I love him so entirely that secing him may render my feclings less poignant. Any inconveniences ‘are more sup- portable than being separated from one's chil- dren. How much more we love them than our husbands! the latter are often so seltish and cruel; but children cannot fored mothers from their affection.” ... “Paris, 1817.—your kind leiter by fom Moore reached me. He sel- dom sces'ne; I did not take with him at all. . .» How happy you must be at filling the world with your name! Mme, de Stael and Mme. de Geulis are forgotten, and, if the love of fame be of any weight, your excursion to Paris was a-brilliant success. Your work on France has appeared through a French traus- lation, in wnich they have suppressed what they thoucht best. Its truths cannot at this moment be admitted here, but in all other countries it will haye complete success. The violent clamor of the Paria gazettes proves it to be tuo well written. They ‘are publishing it in America, where vour talents are justly av- preciated. . . have not seen Mme. @’H—— for along time: she dinesat half-past9, —wakes when other people sleep, which makes it impossible to enjoy her society without paying the price ot a night's repose. ; . . Your triend and admirer, Mr. S. , is dead of old age. T met him two weeks previous ata party. His widow gave a dinner the next week, Decause she was afraid of being (riste-—receives and appears on the Boulevards, because ‘don ami m'a dit qwil fallait. vivre.’ Her friends flatter them- selves that her sensibility will aot kill her, at the same time that it enables them tugiveagreeable parties. . - - MY DESIRE TO SEE MY CHILD : is-stronger than my taste for Paris. I am ofyour opinion: st thing a woman cuando is to mar- Ty: even quarrels with one’s husband are prefera- ble to the ennui of a solitary existeace. . There are so many hours apart from those appropria ei to the world that one cannot get rid of, least one like myself, having no useful occupa- tion. You never felt ennui, because you culti- yute talents which will immortalize fou ew Mme. de Stael died regretting a life that she had contrived to render very agreeable. Her most intimate friends were ignorant that a mai riace with M. Rocca existed, and, unless ber will had substantiated the fact, they would have i a umny. Marrying a man twen- ty years yi than herself, without fortune or name, France un ridicule, pire qu'un crime. What think you of the “ Maunscript- of St. Helena” being ‘attributed to her and Ben- jamin Constant! Is it possible to carry the de- sire of renderive her incon: nt further? . Adieu! Your recollection accompanies me tothe New Worid, where ] hope I may meet treated it any one half so agreeable. They write me that Ti citing my son is petri de) r that,after e: my hopes, he will become. like the genera people, mediocre and tiresome. Yours affection- ately, Euiza PATTERSON.” ‘The next letté preceded by Lady Morgan’s comment: ‘Mime. Bouaparte, with her airy manner, beauty, and wit, would have made "AN EXCELLENT PRINCESS, American as she was. One wonders that Napole- on should have been blind to her capabilities, — he whose motto was, * The tools to him whocan use them,’’? Morgan: . ++ France was so great that it went throng editions with us... . My son is intel! good, and ver} Fis deal of ima ‘no idea of the mode The men are all inet “Baitimore, 1818.—Dear Lady ‘The demand for your work on three ination, but it can stence intlic ts, and commerce ma, fill the purse, but. clogs the brain; beyond their Hey possess not a single ideas t when they wish to marry. tpied mn ies details du menage oceupations agreeable to counting-hou: they never vi The women are oc and nursing children,—useful that do not render them their neighbors. The men, being all bent on marrage. do not attend to because they faney [am not inclined to change the evils of my condition for thuse they. could oiler me. have been thought so eneuyee as to cept very respectable offers, but Lp maining as [am to inarrymg a person to whom Tam indifferent. My letters from, Pari: that Decaze, the Minister of Police. is er Peer, and is to marry Princess de Beauveau. It strange tu my_recolicctions of 5. but_ vothing is tov.surprising with politicians. He is very handsome at least, —vota bad. thing ina husband: th that he has talents and sensibility, pese you Were to vome to this country: it he the hion to travel here, and you might find materiale for an interesting work is impossible for me fo return to Europe; 2 gle woman is exposed to su many d commenis in aforeigu land. Besides, 1 have only £1,100. year,—not cnough to support me out of myuwnfanily. . . . Lembroiter and Do you remember Mme. de Stacl’s de- iption of mode of life Corinne found in nglish country-town,—the subjects of con- ation limited to births, deaths, and mar- riuges? My opinion on these topics has long been decided: that it is ‘A MISERY TO.BE BORN AND MARRIED, “Thaveipainfullyexperienced, 2. ve you a good colleze in Dublint I might send my gon there in two years, as-he cannot go to vance, and 1 donot wish him to be educated ¢ in Ensland, wi.ere his name would not recom- meni him to favor? “GENEVA, I9t.—Dear Lady . » should never ba yosage to Europe could [have found the means of education for my sou. . . . We have been nearly ruined by commercial speculations. and even LE have suffered. . . . My son's education, too, demands vo inconsiderable e: pense, and his father never fas and never wil contribute a fle farthing toward bis main tenance. We have had ne corresponde! the demand that be would pay part of b expenditure. which he positively . This town is -intolerably as. much so as Paris; ‘ xists, too, an esprit de — co- palling to somes strangers, for men are 4 venus partod. They baye a custom parm les gens du haut of re ye Strangers to at avery high price seulement pour leur ayrement, in Which houses there is no feast to be found unless it be of reason: the hosts are too spirituels Lu fancy that we possess a vulgar apr petite for meat, ¥ ables, tarts, and custards; but, as I cannot subsist altozether on the con- templation uf la Gee Nature, I have taken au apartment, hoping to get something to est. .. + My health fs restored, and [| am much less in the geure farmoyant than when you saw me. . -.- Lamhappy notto have gone to Euinburg: the climate here is _tiner, living “cheaper, and the Jangnage French,—more de- sirable for my son. Why do you persist in liy- ¢ in Ireland!” ne Jerome afterward alloyed his son $100 per month for seven years, but with malignant Cruelty ignored him in bis will, which wrong at once to her son and her own wiiely fame Mme. Ronaparte contested in Paris with a spirit that jeited the sympathy of Europe; but Napoleon im on oust of Dalieyy permitted ner defeat, and also at this time discontinued the annuity of $14,000 allowed to her son. Jerome Bona- parte, although recognizing bim at court as bis Coldly~ me, | cousin; but the $6,000 per annum. granted to her grandson, Capt. Bonaparte, ceaséd only with the Empire. © “Geneva, 1820.—Dear Lady Morgan: . . . Baron Bonstetten came to see me,to-day. You were the subject of our conversation: nothing but admiration. M. Sismondi has made my acquaintance: he is married too: I wonder that people of genius marry.. I have been in such a state of melancholy as to WISIt MYSELF DEAD A THOUSAND TIMES. What think you of a person’ advising me to turn Methodist? Have you read Lamartine’s ‘Meditations Poctiques’? There are some fine things in them, but he is too lurmoyant, and of the bad school of politics. Miss Edgeworth is here: she came to sce me, but we have not met. She has a great deal of good sense, which I particularly object to in my companions, un- Jess‘accompanied by genius. "... . They are so reasonable and uumoved in this place,—their mornings devoted to the exact sciences, their evenings to whist! There have been some En- glish, but I have seen tittle of tnem: they~ are cold,’ formal, affected—just my. antipodes; therefore we should not please each other. They require a year to become acquainted, and I have too little left of life to waste on formalities. . . Inthis birthplace of Calvinism I found no trace of its oricinftor, cither in actual relics or asceticism: it was rather thé centre of folly and license.” Baron Bonstetten, savant and philanthropist, —whom Lady Morgan styles “that fresh, frisky old darling,”"—showed Mme. Bonaparte paternal kindness. In a morning-vialt she found him in his library examining Ietters. He said, ‘ As- seyez Vous un peu, mon enfant, cn attendant que je finisse de ces papiers,” and she sat ‘for an hour reading letters from celebrities which he tossed to her— among others, — perhaps — inadvertently, from Mme. de Stacl, proving the good Baron’s admiration for Coriune to have been * warmer than friendship, if colder than love.” At.a ball at Bonstetten’s, as Mime. Bonaparte entered the room, a stout, handsome man covgred with orders eaterly exclaimed, “Qui est-ce$ qui est- cof? “La premiere femme de Jerome Bona- arte,” replied the Princess Gallitzin. It was William of Wurtemberg, ‘ NCLE OF JEROME’S SECOND WIFE, He requested .a presentation, took both hands affectionately, and, after conversing haif an hour, led her to his Duchess, to whom he said afterward, ‘!Mais, mon Dieu! que Jerome a manque son coup. (Quelle grace, quelle beaute, quel esprit!’ Et ma pauyre niece! il faut etre juste; jamais’ ne pourrait-clle reguer comme cette belle Americaine, qui par tout droit est vraiment ‘Ia reine." Jerome acte bete dela auitter.”. ‘¢Ah,” said Boustetten, **si elle n'est pas reine de Westphalie, elle est au moins reine des cceurs.”? 2 Jerome sent for his’ son, then a-lad, to visit him at Rome, where hé remained eral months, treated with affection by his father and with maternal kindness by the Princess, Who went two leaugues to meet him, and, taking his: face between her hands, said tearfully, © At! mou enfant, je suis la cause in- nocentey de tous vos malheurs.” She evinced s the utmost interest in her predecessor. Mine. Rubelle was appoiuted Lady of Honor to her when Queen of Westphalia, and was mean- ingly questioned, “Are all the American. ladics as beautiful as yourself?” Prince Woronzow said of these rival wives, ‘Je suis amourcux des ducx reines de Westphalie,” On her arrival in France, the Princess of Wur- temberg halted at Raincy to meet Prince Jerome, “who had sworn to me,” says Mme. dunot, “never to forget the mother br his son, the young wife who had given him a paradise inastrange land... . .. The Princess was not pres she seldom smiled; her expression was waughty. 3. er complexion was fair and fresh, hair light, eyes blue, teeth very white. As the Princess had made up her mind to give her hand to Jerome, it was desirable that she should please him, as. ME CERTAINLY REGRETTED HIS WIFE; and Miss Patterson was reaily his wife und a charming woman. . . . Her dress was in uncommon bad taste,—the gown of bluisn-white moire, trimmed in front with -badly-worked silver embroidery in a torgotten style; a little ain resembling the round tail of a beaver; tight, flat sleeves, pressing the arm above the elbows like a bandage after blood-letting. Her pointed shoes bulunged tothe cra of King Joly the hair old-fashioned in strle. About her neck were two rows of very fine pearls, to which Was suspended the portrait of the Prince set in diamonds, and much toolarge to be ornamental, as it dangled from her neckand bestowed heavy blows at every step... . Marshal Bessieres had_espoused the Princess by proxy. . . ; Jerome entered, she advanced two steps and ade him her compliments with grace and dig- nity. . . . Jerome seemed to be there be- cause he had been told ‘You must go.’ After Jerome retired the Princess fainted.”” The Duke of Wurtemberg was a mere tool in Napoleon’s bands, and his pliancy was rewayded. In 1809 the Emperor greeted him as mon rere, “Comment, sire? No longer your cousin??? You were wun cousin: ¥ now Munsieur mon frere J? And mesti¢ tragedy of this new yrere was known to the Imperial King-maker! In 1730 the Duke had married Princess Caroline of Brunswick, na beautiful, who was accused of _re- tuo favorably a page iu her service. Let- ters Incu!pating them were found, a tamily and state council was convened, and the page sep- tenced tu death, while all concurred in the guilt of the Duchess. A divorce was proposed, but finally her deuth was decreed. The rage lodged in the palace, his door opening on a corridor be- neath which were similar corridors, in each of which a trap-door was now arran: ne below the other, a slight flooring concealing the one immediately avove the apartment of the Duchess. As the unsuspicious page stole at midnight to the rendezvous, the trap yielded, and from fluor to floor be was dashed, mangled and dead. to the feet of the Duchess. The infatuated = wom- i warned, had refused to abi + butgiow she sought escape, was intercepted, and the city executioner immedi- ately brought blindtolded to the great hall. where he beheld a fair, noble woman bound hands and feet. He implored to be spared his terrible task, but, sworn to secrecy, he was furced, under the penalty of instant death, to t STRIKE THE SATAL BLOW. Tle drew up a detailed account of the double murder, and sent it to Baron Bretuer, then French Minister of State, who laid the matter before King Louis XVI. derome’s wite waa the daughter of this unfortunate Princess. The Duke afterward marricd'a daughter of George ALL. of England. Mme. Bonaparte’s last meeting with Jerome was at the Pitti Palace in Florence in 1822, and, singular to say, these once wedded lovers. did nat know each other! She chanced to be at- tired in her most recherche costume,—a rich silk half-way to. the knee,—then the mode,—dis- playing damty prunelia sho a gauze hat about three feet in circumference, with bigh-wired bows; a crimson -cash- mere shawl, aml large green velvet reticule. In s attracted passing through the gallery she by the eazer, persistent stare of a very haund- some man whom she did not revos but we likeness to her son enchained ily the truth flasbed to ber: heart: “tis Jerome!” He meanwhile, gazing at her, said to one of the ies with him, “Si belle! st He! qui est-ve!”: * Vous devriez It connaitre, vest votre premiere femme,” replied Mme. Joseph Bonaparte. Jerome started, and with au agitated whisper to the other lady, the Prin- cess Catherine, they left the gallery. For one moment only the two “discrowned Queens” were face to face. The next duy Mme. Bona- parte was driving in the Cascine, when from a passing carriage Jerome near] ecipitated him- self ua Jast, tingering look at the wife of bis youth, At that period Florence was the focus.of Con- tinental social brilliancy, and Mme. Bonaparte was received with due distinction at its charm- ing Court. “MY PRESENTATION WAS SPECIAL,” she relates, “and being superbly dressed, though caring but Jittle fur chiffons, Lady: with entire composure and_ sel. ti: through the apartinents of the Pitti Palace, crowded with the edite of the Court and diplo- macy. Preceded by. the. Chambertain, I was welcomed by the Grand Duke and Duchess with such kindness as quite to overcome me, and 1 2 bi whose st her. Sudd ly at nearly st into tears; but, saying to myself, ‘Good gracious! [ shall spoil my lovely ‘satin gown, and be thought befe to ma rene," this reflectiow restored my serenity, and enabled me to zo through the ceremony with becuming dig- nity.” + Si elle etait reine avec quelle grace nerait,” said Talleyrand after one of their jonsts, in which he was not always victor. “*s charms bv her eyes while she slays with ber tongue,” said Count Crillon: if her unsparing repartee inspired wholesome fear, she disarmed by her tact, sportive manner, and child- ike laughter. “Lad she been. near the hrone, the Allies would. have found it even more dillicult to dispose of Na- poleon,” said Gortschakoff, that. brilliant and fascinating Russian, noted even then forthe astuteness and diplomatic resource that still steady the Russian helm through Disraclian and Bismarekian breakers, and who now, after fifty years, faithful in friendship, recalls to his betle allice the guerre spirituelle epigrammatique of their bright spring-time.. The Duke of Buck- ingnam and Chandos, in bis ‘*Memoirs,”” pays tribute to her tlent, piquant charm, and ‘un- tarnished name;” while her enemy, Prince Na- poleon,—Plon-Plon,—thus characterizes her: «Ambiticuse, un esprit indomptable, une repu- tation sans tache.”” : She writes to Lady Morgan from Paris in 1925: “I passed only s few months in Rome, where I saw the most beautiful woman in the world, who has since died in her husband's palace in Florence, conjugally.regretted by Prince Borghese. He buried her in’ the hand- ,Somest chapel in Europe. She Jeft my son a jegacy of 20,000 frames. . 2. have aid a~ short visit to America. La ‘ayette was carcased, adored, and sub- stantially rewarded. ! saw him, and talked to him of you, whoin he loves and admires mai- grele tempset P absence. Fanny Wright was with or near him all the time be was in America. She is to write something of which he isto be the hero, . . . Myson has grown up handsome, —a classical profile and un esprit juste.” alt Rome, Mme. Bonaparte FIRST MET WER IMPERIAL RELATIVES, by all of whom she was aifectionately welcomed, except Mme, Mere. “Qu'est-ce que vous al! Jez faire a son mules questioned Banline Bor- ghese. “Je n'y feral rien;” and to this armed neutrality she adhered, though by request send- ing her son daily to sce his gran er, until at length overtures were made and the spirited daughter-in-law received with cordiality. | “She. Was not tall,”’ says Mine. Bonaparte; “ features like her great son; fine, mournful eyes; a man- uer touching and majestic, She was then very devote. Pauline was empty-headed, selfish, and vain, cared only for luxury, but in every line exquisite “as Canova’s statue rep- resents, her. Hortense was not real- | ly handsome,—irrecular features, a wide mouth exposing the gums and defective teeth,— a blemish in her mother, whose faultless tigure, Kindly nature, and caressing manner she also inherited. She was lovely at the harp, and sang her own romances in a sweet voice,” Among the few celebrities of herdayunknown by Mme. Bonaparte, was Byron, who had ex- pressed.a great wish to meet her, so his friend Capt. Medway toldher. “I hate a dumpy wom- an,” says. the noble bard; and to that com- plexion did the Guiccioli come at last. Mme. Bonaparte knew her well,—‘‘a shower of golden curls; tair, with blue eyes, unlike the. typical Italian; teeth and hands’ perfect; naive and sweet of temper. Byron, she said, took a woman’s care of his beauty; slept in gloves,— he was so proud of his hands,—and kept bits of cotton between his tecth to preserve their reg- ularity. In 1839 Mme. Bonaparte writes to Lady Mor- nn from Paris: ‘* Death, time, and absence have left ome hardly an acquaintance here. =.) «|» T Chardly kuow which is most. distressing —to hear — that our friends have gone to the other world, or have forgotten us in this. . . . My sonis gone from Geneva to Italy to visit his relatives, and to see after a legacy which his grand-uncle, Cardinal Fesch, had the goodness to leave hin. . . . Ihave GROWN FAT, OLD, AND DULL,— od roasons for persons not to think mean intelligent listener. They mistake: 1 have ex- actly the talent to_appreciate the powers of others. Poor Mme. Junot made a sad end, the natural eonsenuence of her prodigality: het pe- Sunny ditticultics, it is said, caused ler death. lliked her very mueh, and felt pained at the misery caused by her want of judemeut. Her heart was generous and warm. . . . 1 know not if the Princess Charlotte, daughter of Jo- seph Bonaparte, was of your acquaintance: she possessed some mental superiority and many noble qualities.” “Lady Morgan,” says Mme. Bonayarte, “was brilliant in wit, good-natured, and flatter- ing; short, with sparkling eyes: her hair close cut, in dark curls. “ ‘Why is it?) she said to me,’ ‘that you speak French perfectly, but Engtish with such an American drawl? ‘For tie same reason probably that yours is a brogue,’—one of the museries of her life.’? “BALTIMORE, 1819.—. . . No one expects me to be grateful for the evil chance of haying been born here. Society and conversation be- loug to older countries: you ought to thank your stars for your European birth. . . . France, je Pesperé, isin a transition state, and will not let her brillianey be put under an ex- tinguisher called la Jtepublique. The Emperor hurled me back on what I most huted on earth, my Baltimore obscurity: eyeu that shock could not destroy the admiration I felt for his genius and glory. I have ever been an Imperial Bona- artist quand meme, aud am enchanted at the homage paid by six’ millions of voices to his inemory in voting an Imperial President: the prestige of the name has elected a Prince who 105 MY MOST ARDENT WISHES FOR AN EMPIRE. Dear Lady Morgan, having been cheated out of my inheritance from iny Tate rich and unjust father, I bave only $10,000 annually. You speak of my * princely’ income. I have all my life been tortured and mortitied by pecuniary ditliculties: but for my industry, energy, and determivation to conquer a decent sufficiency to live on in Europe, I might have remained as poor as you first saw me. . . + Lamartine und Chateaubriand are giving their memoirs to the public: the first de sun vivent, When I knew Lamartine, he was Charged’ Affaires from Charles X. Florence was then a charming place. I met him every night in society. How little did I toresee that he was to become a poet- ieal Republican, and tnat dear Florence was to be trarestied in a Republic! Hoping that England may remain steady and faithtul to monarchical pringiples, that at least some refined socicty may’ be left in the world, I shall, Dieu permet- tant, have the satisfaction of sceing you next summer.” Neither the climate tior “the freezing social convenance of England” pleased Mme. Bona- parte, though she was received with distinction. “Abroad, these fair insulars. occasionally un- bend and are charming,” she says; ‘but at all times L have found Englishmen of birth the best bred and most asreeable men in the world.” Since her withdrawal from European life Mme. Bonaparte has lived secluded from socie- ty. Baltimore's shrewdest banker says that he Knows “no man capable of creating legitimate- ly, with so small a capital, the large fortune amassed by Mme. Bonaparte.” She has no accomplishment in any branch of ‘art, and, although ber love of study remains, her fast- increasiug blindness deprives her of this re- source. Her diary, if ever given to the public, will have the effect of a shower of cayenne; but her magnum opus, which discretion will probably forbid seeing the light, is entitled “DIALOGUES OF THE DEAD,”— the scene being Jaid in (fades, where ber father and King Jerome rehearse her story. Her wit is still incisive, her con ation replete with interest, her memory retaining minutely§ every incident and figure of the wondrous diorama. that bas unrolled before her eves close upon 100 years. Her birth was nearly coeval-with that of our Republic, many of whose fathers she knew. She wept as the tidings of Maric An- toinette’s tragedy reached our shores; she was when Washingtov died; Jefferson was her friend; La Fayette has beld her hand; aud her name is imperishably associated with one ‘ho kept the world at bay, whose game was empires, whose stakes were throues.”” = ine "WHITE. WINE, never think of thee as gone; Ido not say, **'Tnow art not here!” For, be the sanlight dim or clear, Gr o'er my hearth, and o'er the lawn, Spreads somber midnight's drearest pall, LT hear thy gentle footsteps fall, ‘And see thee neur, of all most dear, near, and not afar, leagues of earthly measure Ue Asa distant star, to us from the #ky, J, where we sre Forever Th y' Sol, within (he witching spells Of Love's intoxicating cup, Find time and distance swallowed up, ‘And hear a chime of golden bells Ring out unearthly melody, As soul with su oxether, we Glide to their music through life's della! No dark mistrust e’er loomed between ‘The cleapsbt of thy love. true beart! Nor ernel words e’er rent apart Whe holy realm where [am queen. The kingdom where we rein is one, Tias never seen the eet of sun, Or cloud to Host tty heaven athwart, A Inve that doubts is not complete— Could never eatisfy my soul, No balf-ttied cup—a brimming bowl I crave, to turn life's bitter sweet; ‘Aud pare as water, chaste as ice, No taint of Inst to'mar its price— The white wine but for pure souls meet! As Innocence in When from: Mor Ani wing our sight to fairer skies O'erarching Love's own Hvavyea-to-bel lity we rise, ‘And yet, thon€h spoticss as a pearl, And boly, since 2 draught divine, Jt warma my very goal like wine, Such ag they quail whove pinivas farl ‘Around the Majesty on High: T list an Ancel-sympnony Thrilled down Heaven's telegraphic line! Rextsutos, Ind. + EtgaNov CamPBELt, a a Cool Proceeding. Austin (Nec.) Rereilte. b= a In one of the windows in front of Wixom & Nordeck’s drug-store there is a glass jar filled ‘with alvohol and containing the head of a ratue- suake. Gripped tightly in the jaws of the snake is apiece of cloth. The history of the suake and the cloth is as follows short time ago a man who was hunting horses in the hills on Upper Reese River was attacked by a rattlesnake, Which sorang from the ground and fastened its fangs in the sleeve of hiscoat. He took,out his knife and cut out the cloth from his slecve where the snake had tastened itself, and then with the cloth still in its jaws, he presented to Dr. Wixom, who was in the vicinity at the time. In the same jar with the snake’s head there is 2 farantala aud 8 scornlon: The three beasts get ¢ admirably in the jar, i t influence of spirits.” ib being, under the THE GAME OF DRAUGHT: Communications intended for thie een should be addressed to Tuz TrinvNé and indorsed “Checkers. "* CHECKER-PLAYERS’ DIRECTORY. Atheneum, Nos. 6 and 65 Washington atreot, PROBLEM NO. 31. By W. M. Percent, Terre Haute, Ind. Black. YEG lil, Wie YZ YZ Willa A ty a ry White. White to move and draw, POSITION NO. 31. By Prt J. Autacnut, Chicago. Black men on 1, 2, 6, 11, 23. Kings on 5, 27. White men on 13, 22, 29. Kings, 17, 18, 19, Black'to move and win, TO CORRESPONDENTS. J. 0, F., Newark, N. J.—Hequest attended to. F. A. F., St. Louis, Mo.—Your highly valued contributions duly received. J. Z., Cincinuati, O.—Thanks for the favor. C. A.'C., Janesville, Wis.—Your criticism ap- pears below. G. B. H., City—Try 2-7 at third move of your solution, tnd your problem can be drawn. J. D., New York—The (itustrated fails to putin 80 appearance at this oflice. CHECKER ITEMS. ‘Mr. Truax, champion of Minnesota, promises to make theChieaxo players another visit next win- r. , Mr. W.B, Fonville, of Kankakee, wasa visi at the Athen:cum last week. es oF Considering that Mr. Bennett is totally blind, he may well be congratulated on the good Strugzle he makes against so able an opponent ay Mr. SMeCul- loch in the andernoted game. The mode of play adopted by Mr. Bennett differe from that ordinaril known as “*blindfuld,” in which the piayer de- pends on his unaided memory to picture the board with its ever-varsing positions. The draustht- board used by Mr. B. is of the ordinary size, but the black squares (on which the men’ are insneavered) ure hollowed out to the depth of about a quarter of an inch, while: the men are distinguished by their’ shape. not oy their color.—that is, they are round and square instead of black and white,—and are made to fitesuctly into the various squares. In making @ move, the ‘+man” to be played is taken from the square in which it stands and inserted in that to which the player desires to move it. When bi opponent bas moved, the blind player fingers over the bourd for the purpose of understandi the position, and then makes his reply, taxing no longer than an average player. The grip of the squares keeps the **men" from shifting while be is Gngering over the board; and thus ina sense Mr. Kennett may be said to ‘sce with his hands.” He did not learn the yame naotil many years after he had Jost his sight, and thus has practically shown that It is possible for the blind to learn the entertaining game of draughts. ‘The board he uses was devised by Mr. Bennett himself. and most ad- mirably suits the purpose. Our blind friend is a genial and agreeable opponent, and speaks en- thusiastically of the game and the pleasurable en- tertainment it has atforded him. —G@usgore Herald. Ciicaco, Sept.i15.—To the Dranant- Planers of the Northcest—GestLKaEs: In an article in the Chicago Field of June 9, with reference to the Northwestern championship, we wrote that *‘Our editorial dutics and other business engazements are of such u laborious character that we have not the time, even if we had the inclination, to keep ourselves in readiness to play checker-matches to defend the championship.” “These were our senti- ments over toree months ago, and since then our business cares have multiplied; we have found but little me to devote to atudy or practice, and have in consequence become correspondingly rusty. And, furthermore, fecling that there are other players in the West more worthy tbe title. we have concluded. in retirins froin active practice across the board, to resign the championship altogether. Very respectfuliy, o. D. Se Dr. W. M. Purcell, of Terre Hante, Ind., re- cently contested four friendly matches of fifty games each with two of the leading playera of that city, resulting in the following score: Purcell...28 Bramfel.. 5 Draws 3 Bramiivl.. 4 Draw wa Denehie.. 4 Draw 0 Deueble :. 3 Drawn A match for the ‘‘champiouship of the State” was recently played at New Haven, Conn.. be- tween Messrs. Whelahan and Atkins, resulting in favor of the former by the score of 6 te 2 and eight gumes drawn. SOLUTIONS. 1s-14 | 14-10 Pree size Black z wins. 3-9 5-14 GAME NO. 103—LAIRD AND LADY. Played in Chicago between Messrs. Hutzler, of Killed the snake and cut oif its head, which, | Cincinnati, and J. W. Howley, of Chicago: Hutrler's: move s GAME NO. 104—BRISTOL, Played at Terre YWante, Iod., by Prof. Robert Maruns and Mr. Paul K. McCoskey: McCoskey’s move. 27 — 72 | i 19 10-15, m-17 GAME_No. \ R. Played in St. Lonis, Mo., aly mateb between Measra, Fitzpatrick and Schindler. Fiwpatrick's move. F-u3 1 Id 1 14 27-23 10-17 21s n-15 2-17 2. GAME NO. 100—GLASGOW. By C. A. Chester, genesvile: ets = hs 4 (Drawn. between Messrs. Bryce and (a) In game No. 96. Hatzler, 15-29 was played here. and Uutzier son. TL 73 feads tow draw. Letaome one show s win es BE AS HAPPY AS YOU CAN: O mine ie'a free and careless heart, And mine is a toncue of # And [ try to bear with 3 che: Whatever may come alonz ‘And I find that life is a zoodiy thing, And living a joy—not pain-— With lots of singhine to light my road (Thanch sometimes s little rain). ‘And I have a motto all the way— I would: it to every man— “pis this: Whatever may come along, Be ag happy a8 you can. ough Heaven is such aglorions place, Toeneheak while on Earth we stay. | ‘To grasp all we can of its pleasures rare Before we are called away. Besides. in my mind there as often doubt Which road after death TH take; Perhaps. instead of an upward course, TN go down to the Hery lake. But Ido the best that my wesk soul knows, ‘And I wrong not any mun. Bat try, whatever may come along, ‘To be bappy as 1 can. c Yes,-men will lle and money, will Ay, But fretting is no use, Not even if the Bank did ** bast" And Spencer did vamose: We cannot vet our money oack, Nor soundly wollop him— ‘We might a3 well serenely smile, HILWAUKEE, Crime and Education-=-A Sab- bath-Day Homily. : The Mitchell Divorce Case and Some Other Interesting Ones, « Which Are of Use to Point a Moral and Adorn a Tale, Special Correspondence of The Tribune. Mnwackee, Wis. Sept. 14.—Thou art a most excellent preacher, Oh. Trisung, at all times and under all circumstances, but more especially through the well-tilled colamns of the Sunday edition; so I turn to thee, then, to find means to promulgate a short sermon, not on the goodness of God, but on the badnes@ of the Devil. The last-named personage hus had rather a lively time of it in our beautiful city durius , the last twelve months, so much so'that many <ood people begin to believe that the town was Dre-empted by his Satanic Majesty long before Solomon Juneau ever ti Dirch-bark canoe shores, and that ed the prow of his towards these innocent. now he intends to prove up and take possession of his claim.” In the matter of divorces, burglaries, thefts, murders, and other lesser crimes in the calen-:! “dar, we have bad less in number, probably, than * most other cities of the size of Milwatkee,— ‘ | thanks to our active police, and to the stupefy- ing effects of our lager beer,—but it must be- confessed that we have had enough, and fur- nished the police records with some notable cx- amples that are hard to improve upon. The telegraphic columns of Taz Trisung haye ab ‘ready blushed with the proceedings of a divorce ; :suit commenced by Mrs. John L. Mitchell against {her husband, and with the charges and counter- ieharges of infidelity and much worse on each ‘side. Happily for. both parties and for, :all concerned,—just how many are included -in f+ all concerned,” this deponent sayeth not at this time,—the matter has been withdrawn from jthe courts and scttled in a satisfactory manner. As Mr. Mitchell is the only surviving heir of tne irichest man in the Northwest, and a State Senator, the case attracted an unusual-degree -of attention, and made such a buzz in the social seircles of upper-tendom as was never before witnessed. indeed, when it looked as if the whole unpleasant business was to undergo the’ searching and inquisitorial investigation of the- courts, a large number of so-called respectable people began to fidget uneasily in their seats,- and to express the most intense and cager, interest in its settlement. I do not know, nor’ cau I imagine, why it was that so many men and | women in the set that associated with the young- er Mitchell and his wife shoald lose so much’ sleep on their account and have their nerves’ stretched to such an undue tension whenever the indelicate subject was mentioned. But cer-: tain it is that there never was a similar case in this city that, clicited such a profound solicitude, nor one where there was suc! and arbitators, who declarea that. they would * give almost anything to have the- matter hushed up.” This deep anxiety on the, part of John’s neighbors, male and female, was the indubitable proof of 2 Christian spirt to do good to people _in distress, and to share the sorrows of the afflicted. Not that auybody, expected to be smirched by the revelations in the courts if the case was fully Hatched and de-, veloped by the unmercifal and all-searching” lawyers, nur were the domestic relations of any- body supposed to be in danger of yiolent ais- turbance,—that mizht have been probable in. Brooklyn or Chicazo, but not here, O tirtuons and unsophisticated TRIBUNE, not here, where the iminaculate white bricks in our dwellings are typical of the peace and purity that dwell. tors, frient inside. ing. arash of medi: But the case itself is a sal and painful one in the extreme, and one that ought to set every moralist, philanthropist, and Christian to thiniz- Too much muuey used toa.bad purpose and too many champagne euppers are not good for either body or soul, and the body caunot pe ruined without involving thesoui in the disaster also. Social high life in this and all other cities is not only exceedingly expeusive from the financial standpoint, but it is most fatally so from the moral outlook. A paper on the worthlessness of money as a factor in the do- mestic happiness of married people, as com- pared. with sobriety, virtue, and their natural Correlates, will be - most opportune, tthe next meeting of the Social Science Assuciation. CRIME AND EDUCATION, Turning from the sentimental subject of di- vorces, the causes of which often lie hidden away so deep in the impenetrable breasts of wen and women as to defy all psycholovical discov- ery as well as satisfactory analvsis, we come to consider the moral aspects of two or three coa- spicuous criminal cases that have recently dis- turbed the quiet surface of our conservative com- munity. And as this quict Sunday is provoci- tive of such thoughts, this pious Icad-pencil of ine naturally suggests to our educators and. political economists a slight modification of their theories in regard to the relation in which crime and education stand to each otber. writers op prison reform are to the muzzle with All generally charged statistics to prove how densely ignorant a very large ma- jority of the convicts - are, so far: as the ordinary branches of 4% common- schoo! education are concerned, and then craw the unwise conclusion that book-learning, is an almost infallible panacea for the ills that afflict us in that respect. Mr. Herbert Spencer hus written a little more sensibly upon this sub- ject than most of his contemporaries, and has: done something to correct the popular errors in reference to the absolute value of what we call education as the: preventive of crime. And’ the point to be made just here is, that these statisticians who parade before our -eyes the. large percentage of the convicts In the pen-" itentaries who cannot read or write, do not take into the account the degree of guilt and the + enormity of the crimes for which they are saffering the penalty of the laws. Let me make my idea a’ little plainer by an illustration. I enter’ twenty of the first cells I come to in any Staic | Prison, and inquire as to the particular crimes the inmates have been guilty of, and the answer is, horse-stealing. Here are twenty icuorant men, who can ncitner read nor write, that have stolen a horse apiece thal was worth, sy oly each, © or $2,000 in the ageregate. me forger, who is a_college-bred man and 2. 1 fo But in the next celk’ member of the Young Men’s Christian Associa-- tion, who succeeded in cheating somebody out’ of $100,000, or, in other words, he stole five times. asmuch as twenty of his ignorant neighbors. Probably it is safe to say that Chicago's latest: contribttion to conspicuous and damnable rs- cality in the person of D. D. Spencer,ot eavings~ bank fame, has stulen more money than all the thieves, burglars, and tramps put together thas, are now confined at Joliet. Neither would {- have to travel far to find men engaged in organ-. izing, conducting, and. wrecking lite-insurance companics on purpose to swindle widows and” orphan: Munici The otber day, Judge Mallory, of our” pal Court, sentenced a poor imuoramus - to three years’ confinement at bard labor in tho- House of Correction for having stolen a few dollars? worth of ola silverware. But [ cau see. from my study window THE ELEGANT MANSION OF THE WIISKY THIBP who first corrupted the Government otticisis _and then colluded with them to ron the Treas- ury of the people of hundreds of thousands of jts-revenue;-and the prisou-loors swing nut upon their willing bing-s fur such as him and hig associates in guilt. And so £ night go on by the bour until your: columns were filled with the recital of siniilar crimes, where the enorinit few. educated ontweichs ignorant and feebleminded ee most notable cases of law-breakine of the ruscals the The | far aud = accomplished the = errors of crimainalz. that have shaken the good ncuple of this city out of their coveted repose since the swallows vame back in the spring have been by men who © have had a good intellectual and moral traio- ing. Ove of them was a forger, anotoer a child-marderer, and the other a counterfelter. The first was a newspaper-writer, the author of a book, and a person of what are called “re- fined and aristocratic tastes.” The child- murderer was a:student at our State University, 4 member of the Jaw class, and a-close and suc- | cessful stucent. The last-named criminal, the counterfeiter, had long been prominent in our ‘ city politics, had served fn our State Lesis- lature, and was married. a. physician of extensive ex- perience and ‘practice. All of them wer Then tae apother view of the matter. Con- sider for a moment the appalling amount of crime that ts daily commited by romaes that - are adroit enough to escape the clutch of the law,—the men who steal railroads, savings- banks, life-insurance and yarious kinds, who hi their debts by ranning through the; the breakers of the law ina» panies of and pay Bankruptcy Court; other joint-stock com- le their money: thousaud ways whose cases are never legally in- quired into; and tell me if the diffusion of. Knowledge and the universal spread of the ‘And own we're ** takea in.” ‘No use to storm. and neve, and ‘swear, Nor murderous projects plan— : So we'll clutch o#r bank-books firm and fast, And be bappy as we can. Ciicaco, August, 1877. Unis R.ARERSTHOM. schoolmaster are deserving of quite a3 much - credit in restraining the bad passions of the , human.race as we have been in the babit of ac - cording to that source,