Evening Star Newspaper, May 8, 1897, Page 16

16 THE EVENING ST ‘AR, SATURDAY, MAY 8, 1897-24 PAGES. se CLUB LIFE IN PARIS A Subject of Interest to All True Frenchmen. CAUSES FEELING AND BITTERNESS The Merry Row That Has Started Among the Aristocrats. <a e REFUSING CANDIDATES|. Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, April 20, 1897. HILE CLUB LIFE > W: Paris counts for nothing with the average citizen, cluo talk is really more familiar to him than were he of London or New York. “Club- men” — they have taken the word bod- ily into the French— are dwellers of the mild and serene air; their vames and decds are known, their femilies, their alliances, their patri- monies and their debts; a most respectful, good-old-servant press—the Figaro and Geulois—garralous and indiscreet at times, but never meaning il}, Lives by recording their displacements and their doings; and the “potins,” or the gossip stories, of the “clubs” form part of the most red repub‘i- can’s da'ly reading, though in secret. For “the clubman” in Paris is no cther than the born cristecrat, and the four clubs are merely a rearrangement of the male Four Hundred, which is several thousand. The Jockey Club, the Cercle of the Union Simple and that of the Union Artisiique and the Cercle of the Ree Royale are four earthly paradises of a most peculiar tint of atmosp! that ere. A lover of paradox might say ny Parisian seriously aspiring What he would ly mean, of course, is that no Parisian other than one to the manner born could be crack-brained enough to dream of such an elevation. This is so much true—and so much against the spirit of the tim 4s well—that every a male in Paris can talk learnedly, and does, of a stupendous trembling of the earth beneath the Jockey Club, which has just threatened to shake something hke new into that very sol- emn group of crest aring sports. No Parvenu Need Apply. The trouble had its ri: in the desire of the more modern members of the racing of th jora into its om rich, renowned and a Prictors of ra Soc on of Encouragement the Equine Race to certain foremest, ogether worthy pro- ~ stables, men like Albert committe: for the receive Menier, E fame and fortun Jewish banker a: anc of Monte Carlo and Achille Fould, the { nd philanthropist. ' The Jockey Club said no. The Jockey Club wculd have no parvenu, no late arrival, showsoever qualified, well-viewed by the great racing public. or deserving on the score of present interest or past services to the French race track. Its high mem- bers, as the very street boys of Paris ex- plain to each o desire to keep to them- selves what has become, in the evolution of tne great Parisian public life, a very ood thing, quite uncontemplated by its @isinterested patriarchal grands seigneurs of founders. This good thing is no other than the control of Longchamps, Chantilly and Fontainbleau, the greatest of French race tracks. The really pecullar thing ts how an aristocratic club, a club in the true sense, as understood in England and, America, comes to have such a proud voice in the matters of a turf kept up for the great part by racing stables whose proprie- tors it will not admit to its deliberations. its Dual Character. The key to the mystery is to be found in the double character of the Jockey Club membership. At the beginning, in the early days of Louis Philippe, there was but the Society of Encouragement for the Amelio- ration of the Equine Race, a collection of sportsmen and breeders, for the most part aristocratic, but with notable plebelan ex- ceptions, as the names of Delamarre and Lupin, cast at them today, bear witness. And then out of the Society of Encourage- ment there grew the Jockey Club, a club— }. not a socicty—encouraging no amelioration but that of its own club membership. This membersh!p. although absolutely identical with thai of the society, has always had its officers, its tendencies and its traditions, never necessarily identical with those of the society. Here is—note—a large group of men whose bond ts that of a common love of sport and common social place. In such a group it very well may be that one- half will have a stronger leaning to mere club I'fe than the other; while a floating, vacillating handful, holding the real bal- ance of elective power, will be wooed by both parties in the times of stress. It then mignt easily result—and has resulted—that for the sake of peace and out of natural good-fellowship and kindliness, politeness courtesy and cuiture the club-life party should control the Jockey Club and leave the sportsmen the control of the society. Now the society, as an old-founded corpora- tion with concessions from the state, con- on public services conn ed with that Equine Race Amelioration which its title boasts, continues to control the three race tracks it founde:l, fostered and maintained. The Jockey Club, on the other hand, continues to be the mere club, tolerated rather than wossessed of rights. And yet it is the spirit of the Jockey Club which seeks to dictate to the socieiy. is, and yet is not itself—and the racing public of an act of progress ar- dently desired by the society as well. A State of Things. In a word, the proposition to admit the great outside proprictors to the delibera- tions of the racing committee of the so- ciety has been peremptorily sat on by the club—thanks to the voting system of the club and the society's foundation rule io the effect that tae committee must be chosen only from the club membership, which is, of course, the membership of the society: and the three millionaires, the banker Fould, the roulette banker Blane, and Menier, the chocolate man, have been as good as blackballed from’ a club to which they never dreamed of asking for admissi Grave consequences are ex- pected by a palpitating public. The action of the unforgetting-and-un- learning Bourbons of the Jockey looks like nothing less than suicide, in view of all the forces now turned suddenly against them, money interes: the powers of in- trigue possessed by the rebuffed proprie- tors, interior dissensions and the public utility. The racing committee of the so- ciety has already rented a place, close, very close, indeed, it is said, to the Jockey, and its last words are to the latter: “We are a iegal corporation and can de- fend ourselves. Who are you, the Jockey Club? a club, a simple ciub, though, if you wish, also the highest emanation of pure aristocracy. All of which comes back to the simple fact that your legal existence is on sufferance, toierated like the merest social or political gathering of more than twerty people, and so subject to ins} ticn, regulation und dispersal even! Con- sent then to democratise yourselyes—or it is rupture!” Baron Hirsch’s Revenge. The irfluence of the three slighted mil- licnaires, Blanc, Fould and Menier, is greater, I imagine, in the Paris of today than it would have been even twelve or fifteen years ago, and their several for- tunes joined together must be greater than that left behind hini by the Jewish philan- thropist, yet the revenge of Beron Hirsch is not likely to be duplicated in these days of matter of fact. Baron Hirsch had been propcsed for memtersaip in the club of the Rue Royale by two particularly in- fluential sponsors, two great ducal names, of which one was royal, the Duc de Char- tres, grandson of Louis Philippe and brother of the Comte de Paris, and the Due de la Tremoille. The patronage of the first named, indeed, must in itself have seemed sufficient to impose no matter what candidature, which was, perhaps, an ele- ment of weight in the disaster, the club holding to its independence. It is an old tale, how the Baron Hirsch revenged him- self on the club of the Rue Royale. He berght, through agents, the old Hotel de Coislin, where the club has always had its seat, and as the owner had no wish to sell and so required to be well tempted the price was a high one, evea for ven- geance. Then he gave notice to his clubly tenants to vacate. A true baronial re- verge! But,stop. The story always ends thus, it is true, in anecdote. "In fact, how- ever, we have not yet got to the revenge of Baron Hirsch at all, at all. After long weeks of frignt and self-reproach, of pleadings, arguments and consultations, the club of the Rue Royale was granted most magnanimously the privilege of buying the Hotel de Coislin back at twice the fancy price which Baron Hirsch’s outraged pride had paid for it. Which was the baron’s vengeance! Not the other. In reality it was as matter of fact as anything that M. Fould or M. Blane or M. Menier might do today. - The Latest Event. History gives us to believe that the Duc de Chartres was grieved at the blackballing of his protege, though not roused to the point of sending in his resignation to the club. Nor have such grieved sponsors ever beer held to that measure of pro- testing sympathy. The latest event in Paris club life, therefore, comes with all the disquieting novelty of a new doctrine. At the annual mecting of the Cercle of the Union the members had to replace three committeemen, the Comte de Moltke, deceased, and the Comte Louls de Turenne and M. de Giers resigning. It only needed to be known that these two resignations were motived by not the blackballing, but the simple “adjournment” of a candidate protected by the well-known sportsman and the councillor of the Russian embassy to start the club world Into a very special excitement, for here indeed was something eae Seeking a Motive. The candidate, a foreign personality highly esteemed in Paris, had nothing against him to call for—or excuse—“ad- journment.” There had been no usual whispers of a possible hostility, and it had for that reason been impossible to warn M. de Giers and the Comte de Turenne to withdraw their man until, say, the next meeting. What happened was the e story blackballing of “adjournment.” is that the blow was struck at the desire of “un grand seigneur etranger,” as the Paris journals reticently put it, or the heir to an empire on which the sun sets not, as it is whispered. Whether or not this gation must be put down to the which, in the Parisian mind, imputes. all kind of international social mysteries to the Will of Albert Edward, it is certain that no one has had the courage to invent ti thm of the motive. te ee At the Jockey Club, as well as at the Union, an unknown person who ts well presented by popular sponsors has more chance of being received at once than a Parisian who is well known, well received in society, and well put forward, but who has chanced to cross some one in the way or pass him in the Parisian struggie for life. Electing Members. There are clubs, like that of the Union Artistique, where the members are too numerous to vote. The candidate would have to submit his chance to those who might happen to be present on some day, and who would not be those of the day be- fore or the day after. And how couid all the members Interest themselves in finding out tho stiuation of the candidate? It has been a wise thing, therefore, to deiegate all power to a committee which inferms itself, questions the sponsors, and accepts or puts off without talk. At the Union, at the Jockey Club and at the Rue Royaie, ever -since the club has reached the number of 600 mem? they have a ballot for the candidates, and one black ball always arnuls several white enes. But the honor of the candidate is al- Ways out of the question. Sympathy aione is understood to’ come into play, and ti sponsors cannot take it ill that their cand date is put off because he is not “sympa- thetic” to certain members. ‘The rebuff may seem harder te bear for the members of the committee in whom the club has shown its confidenze, as in the case of M de Giers and the Comte de Turenne. But even here the turning down of their man aces not touch them directly, since a smail minority and the least caprize are enough to cause it. Blackballing Applicants. Fifteen years ago, in tHis same club of the Union, which is the most aristocratic of alla “veritable salon whe tion between diplomats and world has always an air of and refinement’—the Due de a member of the committee, hu didate refused, although the same man had already beea accepted by the Jockey Club. Neither of the two spoas took offense, and the Duc de San’ Arpi1> remained on the committee. At the Jockey Club, fath- ers have had their sons refused. It is thus a vicious circle is maintained. “They refused my canilidate! I'll refuse theirs!” And so the slapping and hair-pull- ing flourishes, to make Parisian clubs the very peculiar institutions that they are. STERLING HEIL) ss A Coartin’ Call. From the Buffalo Commercial. a extra glow, ed like the show, His dickey liste He slicked his hair exactly so, An’ all ter Indicate “his passion.” He tried his hull three ties afore He kep’ the one on that he wore. Hei All afternoon she In abed Ter make her featurs brighter. She tried on every geoun she hed, She rasped her nails until they bled, A dozen times she fuzzed her hed, An’ put on stuff to wake her whiter, An’ fussed till she'd a-cried, she said, But that ‘ld make her eyes’ so red. Them! ‘They sot together in the dark ‘Ithout a light, excep’ their spark, An’ neither could have told or guessed Which way the other un was dressed! How He Was Caught. From Fliegende Blatter. “Won't you buy a trifle, kind sir?” “I don’t see anything I want— t | graphic me, just wait ¢i I run home for. ARE POLES. APART Contrasts : the “Arctic and Adtardtic Worlds. VEGETATION FLOURISHES AT THE RORTH <> But Thersis agDearth of Living Things a4 the South. OTHER MARKED DIFFERENCES Written for The Evening Star. HERE ARE NO RE- gions of the earth’s surface concerning which greater mis- conception exists than the regions, ly- ing antipodally to one another, which stretch poleward be- yond the arctic and antarctic circles. Both of these tracts in the popular mind are the embodiment of forbidding terrors, with little of those softer qualities of na- ture to relieve them which so charmingiy diversify and make pleasurably habitable the less distant quarters of the globe. In each the eye sees pictures of interminable snows and ice masses, of giant icebergs towering to mountain heights, of bleak and ‘inhospitable shores, and tempest tossed seas, while the mind conjures up visions of Gisester, of dreary toil and staggering mis- fortune to all who venture within the por- tels of the black night. To this we add a climate of rigorous severity, and the pic- ture virtually frames itself. All these conditions are material and truly existing, but they must be accepted with their proper limitations. it is not jalone that the mind has blindly taught | itself conditions. that are only partially .ex- j istent or emphasized certain qualities which the sterner demands of truth would have | shorn of their rough outer cover, but it has | Persistently paved the way for that grosser | exaggeration which time alone can efface. It has united Arctica and Antarctica as regions of equal, or, at least, of very sim- liar epnditions; it pictures the opposite polar tracts of the globe as representing an al-| most identical phase of nature. In truth, hewever, the two regions, while very simi- lar in some respects, are markedly different in others, not only in their general physio- } contours—the mutual relations of fand and water, the relief of the land, ete., do they depart from one another, but like. wise in that which pertains to climate, in the features of animal and vegetable life and in the physical activities that are there inanifested. The-Gentler Mood of the Aretic World With all that may be wanting of those qualities which have made dear to us the special regions which we inhabit, the far north has not ‘been 40 completely neglected as to be devoid of individual charms of its own. Thére are gleams of nature in its smiling mood, and a genial hine the yaren breath of life over an in- viting landscape. Meadows and mountain sides throw tg the eye a verdure of green, ved by a bounteous display of bright coloring—the goloring of the ow poppy, of the mountain pink, the buttercup, star- wort, potentilla and dwarf rhododendron. Over all is spread am azure blue sky, and around and abBtut the tumbling brooks a cascades sing! their“woes to the sea, while merry birds chant the usual morning and evening anthems, ft is, indeed, the land- scape ot high Switzerland—the landscape of the border srows, with its fields of grass, of gentian and Alpine rose. We are yet with the busy bees and restless butterfly; to the ear, in concert with the music of rills and rivulets. comes the piping of thou- sands of resquitos which lend their aid to sive voice to the Jandscape. This is a true arctie picture, and one that represents the nerthern world not in a near corner of its borderland of civilization, but very nearly in its furthest point that has been reached by man. It is the su Tr aspect, the landscape of July and August, of a re- gion removed only .500—400 miles from the pole. It is one of the widely differing as- pects under which the arcile world pre- sents itself to us—a winter aspect of rugged severity, and a summer aspect of joyous repose. An Antarctic Contras The dwarf birch, a diminutive treelet, barely eight inches in greatest height, with a “trunk” not thicker than a lead pencil, and with leaves of about the size of a coffee bern, 1s perhaps, the most northerly of al! “foresters’—at any rate, a competi- tor with the arctic willow for this suprem- acy. The tiny forests which it constructs, so tiny that a whole one could rest peace- fully within the shade of a large hat held over it extend well to the $24 parallel of latitude, and perhaps considerably further. They are part components of a vegetation which in arctic America numbers not less than 80 species of flowering plants beyond the S0th parallel of latitule.. In Siberia tree life in its grander forms pushes well to the northward, for, as we are informed by Norderskfold, the ‘elements of the pine and fir forests along the Jenissei river, so far north as approximately the 70th par- allel, gre still of colossal dimensions. How bleakly contrasting is the region of the far south! Not a tree south of the fifty-fifth parallel of latitude, not a single flowering plant within the antarctic circle, not a single moss to add color to the bare and rugged rocks which only at distant intervals thrust out their uncovered heads from the snow and ice fields which per- petually veil the landscape. A solitary lichen on Possession Island and on Vic- toria Land opposite, near Cape Adare, fs all that today stands for the vegetation of the antarctic world—a contribution to know!- edge which in itself is hardly two years oli. No trace of a strictly terrestrial fauna, whether of quadruped, reptile, insect or mollusk, has yet been’ discovered to give life to this inhospitable tract. No song, twitter, chirp or hum is known to give life to the southern landscape—there appears to be nothing to respond to the awakening call of a returning summer or to the mild breath of the midday summer's sun. More than strange, indeed, is the con- trasting landscape of ‘the north, where musk oxen well toward the eighty-second parallel of latitude still browse upon the fertility of the land. The Eccentricities of Climate. It appears to bea ‘prevalent belief that the climate of the two regions under con- sideration {sa very similar one, about equally rigoroys,.and showing but little of those alternattons of heat and cold which are assumed bevdistinctive of the more favored regiotts of the south. It is truly in the north, hoWever, that some of the most marked seasonal changes are to be met with. The summer months bring with them a genial temperature varying but a few degrees m ithe freezing point, and tempered in sunlight by an addi- tional heat of; ees. It is no un- common thing to the thermometer, dur- ing the mon of-June-August, marking 7 to 7% de the Fahrenheit scale. Every *winte: ‘y, sees very nearly the lowest point from 60 to istered for the: world, ; at Verkhojansk, a Russian hamist in ria, the thermometer has in two successivp winters registered 90 degrees: No guch temperature as -—~ that of the has ever been recorded from the does it appear likely ae except, > over the interior of great ice mass -which builds up what has so often beem designated the antarctic continent, it willsever noted. It is true that no winter has-yet been Py Spee lon contrary the ordinary bellef re the south ‘That which ‘const tutes o s tality oe the far south i summer heat—the dreary fogs that the ai » fe e the -which in ee north: vlovely o! grass and flowers which takes tottsele the meadows of Switzer- charms of the upland far into what may be properly designated to “s rl the habitable zone. Man’s habitations in the northerr hemisphere Ltdih deco the sou @ region that extends |’ Umit in Fuegia, in the fifty-fifth parallel, fully 350 miles nearer to the equator than where, as in the Shetland Islands, ladies @isport in the game of tennis in lawn dresses. Summer Sunshine in Antaretics. Yet even this inhospitable region of the south, with its forbidding ice-bound coasts, its towering bergs scattered through seem- ingly interminable fields of ice, its barren and deserted rocks and giant glaciers and glacier walls, is not wholly wanting in the balm .of a radiant sun. Capt. Kristensen, the commander of the Antarctic, and who, with Borchgrevink and some others, made the first landing on Victoria Land (or what is commonly assumed to be a part of the &reat Antarctic continent), reports that on January 5, 1895, when approximately on the 68th parallel of latitude, “‘the sun at noon gave so much heat that I took my coat off, and the crew were lying basking in the sun- shine on the forecastle;” and thirty-four years earlier, while sailing between the 60th and 63d parallels of latitude, Biscoe re- corded that “‘the temperature of the water Was 34 degrees, of the air in the shade 45 degrees, in the sun 77 degrees, with a corresponding general warmth to the feel- ings of the crew.” What then, it may be asked, is the proximal cause of the vast difference between the physiographic and biologic conditions which determine the as- pects of the two regions? Seemingly, it is @ lower summer temperature, which, even with a comparatively mild winter, has not essence enough to give vitality of growth to either animal or vegetable organisms or to dissiqate the products of the winter rigors. The Relative Accessibility of the Two Poles. It is hardly possible in our present lim- ited knoweldge of the antarctic regions, nearly all of which dates from a period more than half a century ago, to give a just estimate of the possibilities of reach- ing their central péint, and therefore of making a true comparison of the relative accessibilities of the two regions. We are today, thanks ‘to the energies more par- ticularly of Peary and Nansen, fairly well acquainted with what the north- holds out —its points of easy trespass, its dangers, its success of chance. To within less than 300 miles of the pole, or to latitude S86 de- grees, 13 minutes, 6 seconds, the footsteps of the explorer have now carried him; and to a distance but a few miles south of this has the power of a steam vessel, the Fram, penetrated. Without doubt the conquest of the pole will be effected before many years have passed. Strange though it may appear, the most successful effort to wrest the veil of obscurity trom Antarctica was that of 1841, when the gallant Sir James Clark Ross, or some of his men, succeeded in forcing a passage, despite the insuffi- ciency of their resources, to quite or ap- proximately the 7sth parallel of latitude. At about that point a huge barrier of ice, rising several hundred feet above the water surface, interposed itself to further pro- gress. There were no Eskimos to give as- sistance, no accessible land base from which to direct operations within the ice- bound realm which appealed so forcibly to further exploration. No subsequent effort | has even shadowed the brilliancy of Ross’ ! work and daring, which, strange to say, have stood as the practical limit of man’s | aspirations in this direction. And yet it is} known that Ross had for his power the sailing vessel oniy, and with no steam | to heip extricate it from a besetting ocean | or surrounding ice. Ross significantly | states that with additional resources he might have effected a landing beside the | cone of giant Erebus, and conducted opera- tions far within the dreary snows that pass beyond—how far, it can naturally not be told. But the evidence is sufficient to point out the road for future exploration, and may yet be that the coveted prize’ will be wrested from Antarctica some time before it will have become commonplace in the region of the far north. That the explora- tion is measurably feasible admits of little or no doubt: w the ultimate success | may be can only be determined by future | exploraticn. ANGELO HEILPRIN. | a eee mployes as Stockholders. Fiom Engineering. A scheme which has been in operation for twenty years in Whitworth’s gunmak- ing establishment at Manchester has now been ended to Elswick with a slight change in the return, and an official an- nouncement is le as follows: Deposits of not less than 1s. and not more than £1 of the depositor's weekly wages will be re- ved from persons in the employ of the company cach week. Those employes who are paid quarterly will be allowed to de- posit up to £2 weekly. For each individual the amount of such deposits shall not ex- ceed £200 in the case of employes receiving weekly wages, and £400 in the case of em- ployes receiving quarterly wages. Interest rill be allowed on such deposits at the fixed rate of 4 per cent per annum, payable half-yearly, and in addition a bonus will be paid, on the declaration of the com- pany's dividend, at the rate per annum of half the difference between the fixed rate of 4 per cent and the dividend. Sums that have been depesited with the company for a less period than three months prior to June 30 next preceding the declaration of the annual dividend will not be entitled to the bonus. Sums that have been deposited for a period longer than three months, but less than twelve months, prior to June 30 in any year wil! receive a proportionate amount of the bonus. The bonus will be credited to each depositor should he so desire it, and will be added to the principal due to him as and from the date of payment. Deposits withdrawn will be entitled to interest at the rate of 4 per cent per annum from June 30 last preced- ing up to the date of repayment of the de- posit. But no interest or bonus will be al- lowed on sums of less than 10s., or in re- spect of any period being a fraction of a calendar month. Arrangements for easy withdrawals are made. +e+- Co-Operative Applause. From the Chicago Tribune. One night Sara Bernhardt was playing “Fedora” to a crowded house. The poison | scene, as usual, elicited a tempest of ap- plause from the audience; but ere the clap- ping of hands and the stamping of feet had completely died away loud peals of laughter burst forth from the upper part of the theater. The sober-minded people in the boxes and stalls gazed reproachfully at the Boisterous ‘‘gods,” but in a moment they, too, began to laugh, for in the front row of the balcony, and in full view of all stood two one-armed men, who, unconscious of the amusement which they caused, were energetically co-operating to prolong the applause by clapping their remaining hands together. —— Revision Needed. From Punch. : Wilkins—“Such idioms as ‘Between the devil and the deep sea,’ though very expres- sive, are not exactly up to date.” Simpson—“They’re not? Well, how would you improve on the one you quoted, for in- stance?” Wilkins—“Well, I think a more modern plan would be to say ‘Between the trolley car and the scorcher.’"” ——____ Good Answer, From Harper's Bazar. “Why do you Americans talk through your noses?” asked Lord Toplofty. “I don't know,” said Hicks. ‘Possibly be- cause our ancestors didn’t all have hats to talk through, like you English.” LINCOLN IN POLITICS Some Unwritten History of His Great Campaign. WHEN HE SOUGHT T0 BE SENATOR Interesting Reminiscences of the War President. HIS LIKING FOR STORIES (Copyrighted, 1897, by Frank G. Carpenter.) Written for The Evening Star. HAVE BEFORE me two autograph | letters of Abraham Lincoln which have never been publish- ed. They were writ- ten six years before he was elected Pres- ident of the United States, just after his first great campaign with Stephen A. (3 =<* Douglas, during = 5 which he made a na- tional reputation as an anti-slavery leader. At this time Lin- coln’s great ambition was to be the next United States senator from Illinois. He had the right to think that he would be chosen, for it was through his speeches that an anti-slavery legislature had been elected. The campaign had been made up of de- bates between Lincoln and Douglas, and Lincoln had rouied Dougias at every point. in his joint debate at Chicago Lincoin made one of his great speeches. Dougias replied and said he would conciude his ad- dress in the evening. When evening came he failed to appear. The next depate was at Peoria, where Lincoln made tne speech which he refers to in one of the Ictiers which I quote below. This speech showed Dougias that ue could not ete witht Lincoln, After the meeting was over he came to him and askeu him to give up ive joint devaies, ana proposed thar sesiher he nor Lincoln shoula speak more auring tne campaign. This Lincoin agreed to, aad both retired irom ihe stump. The result of Lincein’s speeches, however, was such and the teeling against the Nebraska bil cou for the adimiiimg of siavery invo the ter- ritcries was that an anti-slavery legislature wa cted. Of the majority however, five Jemocrats ana tne re- mainder w The pro-slavery dcmocrtis were scheming to sce if they could noi te the vote or in some way complicate mat- ters so as to re-elect General Shields, the democratic senator, whose term had just ended, and who was a candidate to succeed himself. It was in regard to this elecuon that the following letters were Written. They were addressed to General Henderson, who has for years been one of the leading members of Conger from illinois, and who foriy years ago was a member of the Illinois legislature. The fir er read “SPRINGFIELD, ‘T. J. Henderson, Es “My Dear Sir— “it has come round that a whig may, by Possibility, be elected to the U. S. Senate and I want the chance of being the man— You are a member of the Legislature, and have a vote to give—Think it over, and see jovember 27, 1854, 4. whether you can do better than to go for me— “Yours truly, ‘A. LINCOL! To this letter Mr. Henderson replied that he would like to vote for Lincoln, but that he was in doubt whether ke ought to throw his strength to him or to another candi- date, named Williams, both Lincoln and Williams being friends of his father and himself. Mr. Lincoln's Reply. In reply Mr. Lincoln wrote the letter which I here give. The ink with which it was penned is almost as black today as when Lincoln wrote it: “SPRINGFIELD, December 15, 1854. “Hon. T. J. Henderson: “Dear Sir: Yours of the 11th was received last night and for which I thank you—Of course I prefer myself to all others: yet it is neither in my heart nor my conscience to say I am eny better man than Mr. Wil- liams—We shall have a terrible struggle with our adversaries—They are desperate and bent on desperate deeds—I accidentally learned of one of the leaders here writing to a member south of here in about the following language: ““We are beaten—They have a clear ma- jcrity of at least nine on joint ballot—they outnumber us—but we must ou them—Douglas must be sustained—We t elect the Speaker; and we must elect ebraska U.S. Senator or elect none at al “Similar letters no doubt are written to every Nebraska member—Be considering how we can best meet and fool and beat them—I send you by this mail a copy of my Peoria speech—You may have seen it before; or you may not think it worth see- ing now. “Do not speak of the Nebraska letter mentioned above. I do not wish it to be- come public that I have received such in- formation. Yours truly, LINCOLN.” It was nearly three months after this last letter that the election occurred. Hender- son gave his vote for Lincoln and on the first ballot Lincoln nad a plurality, hav- ing forty-five votes. General Shields, the democratic candidate, had forty-one votes. and the five anti-slavery democrats voted for Lyman Trumbull. These five stuck to Trumbull for seven ballots and-then Lin- coln, seeing that there was danger that they might go to Shields, advised his friends to vote for Trumbull, and so Lyman Trum- bull was e’ected. Upon going to the Sen- ate Trumbull opposed Douglas and the democrats on the slavery question, and in 1861 was re-elected to the Senate as a republican. He was one of the first mem- bers of the Senate to propose the amend- ment to the Constitution fcr the abolition of slavery, and he aided Lincoln materially during his administration as _ President. Lincoln, I am told, was much disappointed in not getting to the Senate. His fight, however, brought him to the front as an anti-slavery leader, and it may be called the beginning of the wave which rolled him into the presidential chair. If all of Lincoln's letters could be got together they would make a most interest- ing collection. He was an excellent writer, and the late W. D. Kelley of Pennsylvania, who was known as “Pig-iron Kelley,” used to tell me that Lincoln compared with Shakespeare in genius, and that he was great as a writer, a siatesman and soldier. Lincoln never wasted words in his writ- ings. Here is a copy of a series of indorse- ments of his of a man who wanted to be chaplain in the army. Lincoln was Presi- dent at the time and Stanton Secretary ot War. The indorsements cover the back of the application and run down below on a slip of paper which has been pasted ther@ to receive them. They read as follows Dear Stanton: Appoint this man chaplain in the army. (Signed) A. LINCOLN. Dear Mr. Lincotn: He is not a preacher. (Signed) E. M. STANTO The following tndorsements are dated a few months later, but come just below: Dear Stanton: He is now. (Signed) A. LINCOL Dear Mr. Lincoln: But there is no v cancy. (Signed) E. M. STANTON. Dear Stanton: Appoint him chaplain-at- large. (Signed) A. LINCOLN Dear Mr. Lincoln: There is no warrant of law for that. (Signed) E. M. STANTON. Dear Stanton: Appoint him anyhow. (Signed) A. LINCOL! Dear Mr. Lincoln: I will not. (Signed) E. M. STANTON. The result was that the appointment was not made, but the man was evidently told that his papers would be kept on file, for they are to be seen in the War Depart- ment now, testimonies to the nerve of Stanton and the friendship of Lincoln. Lincoln's Autobiography. This brevity is found in all Lincoln's letters, but in none more than that which he prepared when giving a sketch of him- self for Charles Lanman’s Dictionary of Congress. The congressman of today uses from three hundred to a thousand words in the sketch which he prepares of himself for the Congressional Directory Lincoln got the story of his life into fifty words. Here is what he wrote: “Born 1800, ir. Harding county, Kentucky. Education, defective. Profession, lawyer Have bee! a captain of volunteers in Black Hawk war. Postmaster at a very smail office. Four times a member of Illinois legislature, and was a member of the lower house of Congress. “Yours, etc, A. LINCOLN.” Many other incidents of Lincoln's mod- esty might be found in his correspondence. While he wanted to go to the United States Senate, he did not think he was fit to be President, and there is an autograph let- ter of his, now owned by a man in Ne- braska, which states his views on this sub- ject. This letter was written April 26, 1850, to Mr. T. J. Pickets of Rock Island, Illinois. Among other things, it included the following: “As to the other matter you kindly men- tioned, I must in candor say I do not think myrelf fit for the presidency. I certainly am flattered and gratified that some par- tial friends think of me in that connection, but I really think it best for our cause that no concerted effort such as you suz- gest may be made. Let this be considered confidential. Gigned) “A. LINCOLN.” A Queer Request for a Pans. A railroad man showed me a copy the other day of a letter of Lincoin’s returning a railroad pass and asking for another. The original letter was found during the war in one of the offices of a leading rail- road company, and the man who owns it now, I am told, paid fifty dollars for it. I have not seen the original, but here is the copy, leaving out the name: ‘SPRINGFIELD, Feb. 16, 185 “B. B. Blank, esq: ‘Dear Says Tom to John: ‘Here's your old rotten wh, it usen on it. I w case I should want t noon, A on this as a precedent, I say: Here's your ‘old chalked hat.’ I wish you would take it, and send me Ibarrow. I've broken h you would mend it, ‘0 borrow it this after- @ new one, case I shall want to use it on the Ist of March, “Yours truly, (Signed) “A. LINCOL) con's Best Stories, It is wonderful how many stories Presi- dent Lincoln told. Senator Vourhees, who died the other ay, said that Lincoln had more stories than any other man he had ever met. He had a story for every occa- sion, and he illustrated everything by an- ecdote. Some of the best stories current today originated with Lincoln and hundreds of his St stories have never been pub- lished. Senator Voorhees had preserved a number which he expected to use in the Jectures which he was preparing the time he died. Here is one he told at the Capitol only a short time ago. “It was, said he, “in illustration of some parties who haa been making a great fuss about I coln’s administration without having groun] for doing so. They had char sort of things and, arguing from their own charges as premises, had made Lincoln out as being a very bad man. President Lin- coln told me that their action reminded him of a law suit in which he was once en- gseged. The opposing lawyer was a glib talker, but a very light weight as a thinker and not at all careful as to the truth of his statements. This man made the first speech to the jury and Lincoln followed. He open- ed his speech by saying: “My friend who has just spoken to you would be all right if it were not for one thing, and 1 don't know that you ought to Mame him for that, for he can't help it. What I refer to is his reckless statements without any ground of truth. You have n instances of this in his speech io you ‘ow, the reason of this lies in the constitu tion of his mind. The moment he begins to talk all his mental operations cease, and he is not responsible. He is, in fact, much like a little steamboat that I saw on the San- gamon river when I was engaged in boat- ing there. -This little steamer had a five- foot boiler and a seven-foot whistle, and every time it whistled it stopped.’ ” A Story of the War. I was chatting not long since with Ed- ward Rosewater, the editor of the Omaha Bee, about his experiences with Lincoln during the darkest days of the war. He told me that he believed Lincoln got relax- ation by his story telling, and that the hearing or telling of a good story gave him the mental rest that he so much need- ed during those brain-taxing days. These stories came out under the most trying circumstances and at the most solemn times. A striking instance of this was just after the battle of Fredericksburg. After the Union armies were defeated an official who had seen the battle hurried to Wash- ington. He reached there about midnight and went directly to the White House. President Lincoln had not yet retired, and the man was at once received. Lincoln had already heard some reports of the battle. He was feeling very sad and rested his head upon his hands while the story was repeated to him. As the man saw his intense suffering he remarked: “I wish, Mr. President, that I might be a messenger of good news instead of bad. I wish I could tell you how to conquer or to get rid of these rebellious states.” At this President Lincoln looked up and a smile came across his face as he said: “That reminds me of two boys out in Illi- nois who took a short cut across an orch- ard. When they were in the middle of the field they saw a vicious dog bounding to- ward them. One of the boys was sly enough to climb up a tree, but the other ran around the tree, with the dog following. He kept running until, by making smaller circles than it was possible for his pur- suer to make, he gained upon the dog suffi- ciently to grasp his tail. He held on to the tail with a desperate grip until nearly exhausted, when he called to the boy up the tree to come down and help. “What for?” said the boy. want you to help me let this dog go.” “Now,” concluded President Lincoln, “if I could only let the rebel states it w be all right. But I am compelled to hold on to them and make them stay.” ul