The New York Herald Newspaper, December 1, 1872, Page 7

breath, and even his motner was convinced his would never open upon the world, 1 knew that the Summer of, yas ub baiid, and. that iy" Tutase course tama was at , my future course must be along the down-hill of life.” RELIGIOUS In spite of his absorption in politics, literature secular cares, Mr. Greeley was @ man of earn- est religious convictions, and although without any trace of superstition in feeling, or aceticism in egg cherished @ no less ardent devotion te religious faith rg habitu- ay wore @ cassock or @ cowl When he was only ten years old he was led by @ passage in ancient history to reflection on the character of the Divine Government. Inthe course of his childish speculations he became convinced of ‘the essential benignity of the Divine character, At ‘that time he had never seen one who himself @ Universalist, nor had reas writer of that denomination. Soon after- ward, however, he became familiar with the “ course of argument made use @fby the advocates of the system. His previous eonvictions were strengthened by thelr reasonings, ana, with the diligent perusal of the Scriptures, Ae was confirmed in tie faith that all sudering 18 @ means of discipline, and will finally result nh be apie i ar eg commeraang happiness. Througho) is life aos on public worship, and numbered many of the ministers of the Eospel among his warmest friends. In matters of religion he lived in charity with al! mankind. He never forced hig creed upon the attention of others, nor —— his articles of faith from human dictation, timate with the highest dignitaries of the church, from the Catholic prelate to the Methodist bishop, he preserved his ireedom of belie! and his inde- mee of mind. “s ral sectety Mr. Greciey was! aiWilys_hich- ne} ° wi welf—! ‘ik, communicative, eoeandng in Saree gation, bees with an occasional appearance of re- werve growing out of a certain absent-minded- mess in which his preoccupied ‘times tempted him to indulge, the wis- dom of is ech seasoned with fre- quent dashes of humor, and his whole bearing marked by a genial good nature rather than any Rens adherence to the formalities of etiquette. Of not addicted to artificial courtesies, he dis- @ sweetness Of spirit and gentleness of or, in perfect unison with the juvenile play ef his features and the beautiful innocence of hi ceuntenance, which disarmed the - severest pre- jadices and inspired a feeling almost akin to idola- among those who knew him best. - mind some- {From the New York World.] FOURIERISM. Nosketch of Mr. Greeley’s life would be complete without some account of his connection with the questions raised by the discussion of Fourierism in the columns of the Tribune. He early took an interest ih socialism, and was at one time impressed with the conviction that it was possible that a social condition might be made to exist wherein poverty would be abol- ished, and where all things could be enjoyed in common; but in later years he acknowledged his error in this particular. He opened the col- umns of his paper to Brisbane im order that that disciple of Fourier might broach his doctrines and defend them against all comers. One of the results of the discussion of socialism ‘which ensued was that several communities based wpon socialistic principles were organized in vari- ous localities. Among those the best known were the comntunities of Brookfarm, near Boston, and the North American Phalanx in New Jersey. They Boon, however, languished and died out; but it must we said in justice to Mr. Greeley that he never en- tered into any of the baser theories of the extreme socialists In regard to the marriage tie. On the e@ontrary, he was evera firm and resolute cham- base of the sanctity of the marriage relation. His lence of the state of wedlock was so complete indeed that he believed marriage should be indis- soluble. In regard to his connection with Spiritu- alism, he investigated this matter merely to reject ttas untenable. HIS ENEMIES. In his political and editorial capacity Mr. Gree- ley, in the course of his career, had a tew personal enmities, growing out of differences of opinion and through newspaper controversies. His quarrel With the 1ate William H. Seward and Mr. Thurlow Weed, arising from drssensions between the three when the infuential Whig triumvirate of Seward, Weed, and Greeley was dissolved many years ago, te tamillar to all. In this category may also be mentioned—although Mr. Greeley was the assailed party—the attack made upon him in Washington, some years since, by Congressman Rust, of Arkan- gas, who had taken exception to certain of his utterances concerning himself. On this occasion he Was assaulted with a cane in the hands of Rust, The affair occurred at or near the Capital. The ne Were immediately separated, no camtage ving been done; but subsequently, while Mr. Greeley was proceeding down Pennsylvania ave- mue, the attack upon him was renewed by Mr. Rust. Beyond receiving a severe blow on the arm, however, he met with no anjury. But if in the course of his active life some flerce asperities clouded tts record, At must be said that his friendships were heartfelt and sincere. Espectally was this the case in his feeling for Henry Clay, for whom he experienced the greatest affection, and of whom he never weried to write in terms of admiration. He vehemen,ly advocated the election of the Kentucky statesman to the Presidency in 1844, and there was mo sincerer mourner than he when Clay died. And there seems no reason to doubt, further, that Mr. Greeley’s personal popularity—as well among those ‘who had no acquaintance with him as among those who enjoyed his friendship—was surpassed by no man of his time. WORTH ONLY A PITTANCE. Mr, Greeley died a much poorer man than was popularly thougnt to be. That good-natured confidence in the honesty of ih who approached him to borrow money Jed him to lend of his means without the ex- ercise of proper discretion. ‘The result was that his fortune was wasted in thankless endeavors to asd ungrateful people, who were faithiu! to this at Teast, that they remained in his debt. Mr. Greeley might easily have left a millionaire’s portion to his dren ; but as itis he has died and they have in- herited ple pittance of the amount which might otherwise have been theirs. (From the New York Times.) PECULIARITIES OF HIS CHILDHOOD. Tennyson says that it is the mother makes us most, and it was the fortune of Horace Greeley to ave a mother who, to the virtues she inher- ited from the Woodburns, added many of her own. Mrs. Grecley was the favorite of the township, the natural protector of the Weak, the porn consoler of the aflicted, the inevitable friend and ally of every child in the ne‘ghborhood. She was agreat reader, and Temembered all she read. She loved agricni- tural pursuits, was fond of flowers and of bees, ‘and had a passion for walking. After working im the fields and the garden, doing the labor of ® man and of a woman, too, during the day, she would tell the old Irish stories she had learned from her grandmother all the evening. To these stories the boy Horace listened greedily as he sat em the floor at her feet, the glow from the ‘wood fire lighting up his pale face and his white hair. She spun as she narrated, while her boys attention was divided between the turning wheel, and the animated eyes of his mother. Doubtless these passages awoke in the boy’s mind a thirst for knowledge and a lively interest in learning. How soon he learned to read is impossible to state with any degree of certainty. Some of his early friends have asserted that his mother taught him to read before he could talk, but this is a manifest absurdity. since the long words would convey to him no meaning. But it is fact that beiore he was quite two years old, he would be upon his back and holding the Bible in his tiny hands, would pore over the leaves with a peculiar solemnity of countenance, and would gravely examine a mewspaper, just as other children play with the contents of mamma’s work box. At three years efage he could read easily and corgectly ks red for children in words of One syllable, and at four he would unhesitatingif tackle say ef the thirty or forty volumes which compri hhis father’s library. One of his peculiarities was the extraordinary variety of postures in which he would read, seldom sitting down com- fortably like an ordinary mortal, but general! preferring to lie on his baek, or to curl himse' ‘up into an uneasy ball, or to stretch himself out en his stomach. From this singularity it resulted that he could read a book right side up, upside down or sideways, to the great astonishment of the neighbors, who looked upon him as a little conjuror, About this time, though under age, he attended the district school of Londonderry, where, ime he had no right to be, as his parents lived in Amherst; but randfather pressed the mi ter, and as everybody liked the youthful prodi there was no contest on @ point on which district boards are sometimes apt to be strenuous, MR, GREELEY’S FIRST OVERCOAT. In June, 1830, the Northern Speciator was dis- continued, and the aby 3 office was broken up. The concern did not pay. Horace Greeley, who had been in the gear Teceipt of $40, had not saved a cent of it. Neither had he spent a cent. All he could bly spare was sent to his father, who had leit Westhaven, and was en; din clearing wild land in Pennsyi- vani ‘hen his connection with Mr. Bliss closed, his wardrobe consisted of two ragged shirts ani the pocket-handkerchief in which they were en- veloped, with his last half year's wages of twenty dollars. He had a sore leg, but, in spite of this, he uetermined to walk to Pennsylvania. Before he quitted Kast Poultney, the boarders of the tavern where he ad often held forth, and been the wuni®prsal arbiter, determined to display their friendly feelings ‘and d wishes in some Way most useful to him, 80 hey presented him with an overcoat, the first the young man had evey possessed; for the good son rigorously denied himself warm clothing thro the Berce Winters of Vermont go that he NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1872—QUADRUPLE SHEET. send the more to his ta, struggling with the CONCEALING THE ILLNESS. ‘but that he would soon be vigorous health.” Soon an 34 on been made for his yg mich oy eet. on th " “ry wi e ory y! vase tas wing betray gro infriendly feelit tat it could not obtain justice it anyt! happen to Mr. Greeley while an inmat of this sepneenes, was sedulously, concealed discreet friends of the great jour- ursday last that there was any statement in the 7ridune that nis condition was alarming. The public naturally desired to know something of the illness of aman who had for so many years done so much to mold public sentiment on great public questions, but nothing could be learned, ie place of his suffering, the nature of his malady, the details of hi conditiod were carefully conceuled, and it was hot until death closed the scene that any information could be obtained, No public man ever had a death so sorrowful as this; @ ration was anxious to weep at the death bed of Horace Greeley, but his selfish friends, for some- unaccountable reason, repelled this sympathy. {From the New York Sun.) THE FIRST SYMPTOMS, Meanwhile Mrs. Greeley’s health had been fail ing rapidly and she had been removed frém Chappaqua to this city. Mr. Alvin J. Johnson, ‘of '323 West Fifty-seventh strect, had placed a suit Of appartments at her disposal, These the invalid occupied with her eldest daughter, Miss Ida, while Mr. Greeley had rooms in the same house. It was there, while passing sleepless nighta t the bedside of his dying wife, that Horace Gree- ley first began to show signs of great mental de- pression. On one occasion, while the opposition press was criticising his great Pittaburg. speech, he said:—‘If they make the issue that I’m the rebel candidate, I’m bound to be defeated.” This consideration seemed to weigh on his mind, and often when he supposed he was alone, he would put his hands to his head and cry out, “Oh !” as though suffering intense pain. He was advised to continue his woodchopping Saturday matinces, and though severely chafed by the accounts of them published in the New York Times, he still pursued his open air exer- cise. On one occasion at Chappaqua he was accom. companied by Mr. Johnson and hisson. Mr. John- son, Jr., chopped down the dead limb of a hemlock tree, which narrowly missed his father’s head, “What do you mean?” cried out Mr. Johnson, Sr. “Do you want to kill. me, Willie?” “1 wish some- body would kill me,” responded Mr. Greeley in a voice of extreme sadriesa. THE DEATH OF MRS, GREELEY. At length, on the morning of October 30, Mrs. Greeley died. When the widowed husband was informed of his wife’s death he wrung his hands, cried like a child and gaia, “Oh ? why didn’t you let me sit up with her! Why did you send me to bed? My poor wife ! my poor wife |? Two days afterward Greeley was buried, Her remains were followed to the grave by a large concourse ge ago all of whom noticed Mr, Gree- ley’s grief. He returned after tne funeral to Mr. Johnson’s, and instead of interesting himself about his daughters and the future gave way wholly to dejection, It was then he showed the first posi- tive evidence of mental aerangement, THE NOVEMBER ELECUION seemingly did not interest him, His defeat did not seem to surprise him, He deceived his friends by receiving the news with perfect indifference. It was noticed about this time, however, that he would tell his private business to everyone with whom he was brought in contact, and to each one he told a different story of his defeat, his troubles and the infidelity of his supposed friends. He would at times denounce the demo- cratic party, whom he accused of selling out to the administration. Then he would violently criticise the course parsued@ by the opposition newspapers, and especially the mismanagement of the Trivune, and his fatal mistake in allowing his name to be used as a candidate for the Presidency. Mr. Alvin J. Johnson was his most intimate friend. One evening, while holding his hana, Mr. Greeley said to him, “A. J., do you know I made a terrible mistake abont Mr. Dana. He was right about that ‘On to Richmond.’ Yes, L am satisfied now that he was right about it.” Often after that, when he was unable to sicep, and while his disease was yet in its incipiency, Mr. Grecley would take Mr. Johnson to his room, and, with hands clasped, he would impart to him the most intimate secrets of his heart, THE LAST BLOW. It was during this period that he wrote his card resuming the editorship of the 7rivune, published on November 7. He was inexpressibly shocked while reading the Tribune on the following morning to find an editorial article headed “Crambs of Com- fort” ee ing a8 conspicuonsa position as that of his card, This article, it. will be remembered, spoke of the 7ridune as having been used as “a sort of federal employment agency,” and said that tor the last twelve years “every red-nosed politiclan who had cheated at the cancns and fought at the olls looked to the editor of the Trivune to secure is appointment as gauger, or as army chap- lain, or as ister to France,” and then closed with an insult to the friends who bad stood by Mr. Greeley during the bg a It was written under the supervision of Mr. Whitelaw Reid, who had acted as editor of the Tribune during the political canvass, and wre inserted in the columns of the Tribune without Mr. Greeley’s knowledge. Mr. Greeley hastened to the Tribune office, He there wrote a card denying his responsibiliy for the abusive article and regretting its publication. This denial he sent to his ola friend, Mr. Thomas N. Booker, foreman of the Tribune printing office, ordering it to be placed at the head of the Tribune's columns on the following morning. The denial did not appear. It was suppressed late at night by Mr. hitelaw Reid. On the following day the detno- cratic newspapers flamed up in just indignation at the “Crumbs of Comfort’? article. They naturally assumed that Mr. Greeley was its author and accused him of the biackest in- gratitude. Their rebuke and taunts deeply af- fected the veteran editor. Recognizing the im- portance of an immediate dental of any knowledge of the article, he sent Mr. Reid anot'1er disclaimer, ordering its insertion in the next day’s issue. This denial was also suppressed, and up to this ver hour democratic journals in the West and Sout are bitterly denouncing Mr. Greeley under the sup- position that ne is the author of the article in ques. tion, IS MIND SEEMED GONE. November 16 Mr, Grecley said to Mr. Johnson, as the latter was leaving his house, “Meet me at the Tribune office at two o’clock this afternoon. I have @ private communication to make to you,” At the appointed hour Mr. Johnson was there, but Mr. Greeley declined 8: ing anything ex- cept, “Meet me at Sam Sinclair's at six o'clock to-night. I'want to see you.” Mr. Johnson went there at the time and found Mr. Greeley asice; Mr. Sinclair and Mr. George Ripley were in another room. Mr. Greeley slept for some time, but when st length he awoke his mind seemed gone. Mr. Sinclair begged him to remain there—to go to bed. He quietly assented, and then, turning to Mr. Johnson, said, ‘A, J., take me home with you, won't you?” Mr. Ripley also begged Mr. Johnson to do 80; but, although it was then early in the evening, it was midnight be- fore they.reached Filty-seventh street. PHYSICIANS DECLARE HIS CASE SERIOUS, The following morning Mr. Greeley was more restless and haggard in appearance than ever, and Mr. Johnson int for his family hres, Dr. E. Krackowizer, chief surgeon of the Ger- man Hospital Dr. Krackowizer recognized the case as a serions one, and at once resorted to the most energetic treatment. At first it seemed as though the malady would yield to the treatment, and at times the patient became gentle in dispo- sition, periectly rational and in apparent good health. PRONOUNCED INSANE. The medical treatment Mr. Greeley was re- ceiving proved ineffectual. Medicine became of no avail, and reason gave way. On November 20 Dr. Brown, Superintendent of the Bloomingdale Asylum, and Dr. George 8. Choate, proprietor of a private asylum in Westchester county, were called to meet Dr. Krackowitzer in consultation. A careful examination of the patient was made, and they unanimously pronounced him suffering from acute mania—entirely insane. The shock was a severe blow to the few friends of the veteran journalist who were entrusted with the secret; but, after due deliberation, they became sufiiciently reconciled to the fact to con- sent to Mr. Greeley’s removal to Dr. Choate’s residence, near Pleasantville, Westchester county. The house is pleasantly situated, a mile and @ half from the town, on a hill half a mile from a road or the nearest house. It is comfortably fur- nished, has handsome grounds surrounding it, and though known to the neighbors as a private lunatic asylum, it has the appearance of the country seat some wealthy gentleman. There Mr. Greeley was conveyed last Thursday week. DON’T SEND ME AWAY. « When he was brought down stairs in Mr. John- son’s house, in front of which Mr. John R, Stuart was waiting with a close carri Mr. Johnson handed him his traditional white and coat. ‘Don’t send me away, A. J.,"” he cried, as the tears flowed down his deathly-pale cheeks. “Don’t let me go! Don’t! Don’t!” The scene was too affecting for those who wit. nessed it, and all shed tears. Mr. Johnson dropped tie hat and coat, too much affected to say a word, He never expected to see his old friend again. Mr. Stuart becai alarmed, and then endeav- ored to place him in a close carr! for removaito Dr. Choute’s residence at Mount Pleasant. Mr. Greeley cried bitterly, and for a time refused to go. He repeatedly said to Mr. Stuart, ‘Don’t let them take me away. I want to stay here with you.” It was only when urged by Aunty Samson and Mrs. Stuart that he consented to go with Mr. Stuart in the carnage. AT DR, CHOATE’S, ‘The day after his arrival at_Dr. Choate’s the * ease developed itself in alt its intensity. ty horrors of acute mania we eat Wi and bp Was viokemt io THe moet skilful treatment at the hands of experienced phy- sicians proved of no avail, and the patient grad- ually sank into a state of unconsciousness. The inflammation of the brain made the stomaeh sym- pathize with it to such an extent that Mr. Greeley pane and was really unable to take food in any rm. ‘ CONDOLENCE THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY. Quite Sorrow-Stricken. POUGHKEEPSIE, Nov. 30, 1872. ‘There is a profound feeling here over the news of the death of Horace Greeley. The sad sntelli- gence is the chief topic of conversation on the streets. Newspaper com Poughkcep 8 in Boston. Buston, Nov. 30, 1872, All the morning papers have obituary notices of Horace Greeley. The Great Journalist Praised in Chi- cago. CH1€AG0, IM, Nov. 30, 1872, | The news of the death of Horace Greeley is re- ceived by the public generally with profound sor- row. Expressions of regret and sympathy are universal, All the papers this mormmg contain eulogistic notices, The Deceased Statesman Eulogized in St. Louis.” Sr. Lours, Nov. 30, 1872. All the papers this morning have editorials on the death of Horace Greeley, and all accord him high praise aaa man and editor, The Cjty Council last night paseet a resolution in respect. to the memory of the deceased statesman and journalist, and requested Mayor Brown toconvey to the family of the deceased the deep sympathy of the citizens. Of St, Louis im their aMiction. SOUTHERN TURF HISTORY. pee ELE The Metairie Course—Its Rise, Progress and Decline. New ORLEANS, Nov, 27, 1872. Even the turf world of New Orleans has not passed unscathed beneath the transforming fingers which the restless spirit of change keeps ever busily at work m tangling the woof of man’s worldly affairs, and the closing year will long remain memorable in its history as having wit- messed the death of the oldest jockey club in America, together with the birth of its younger and more vigorous successor. The old Metairie track, radiant with the triumphs of successive equine generations, whose golden dtist has been whirled by allthe fleetest hoofs that now adorn the Turf Register—the scene of Lexington’s grandest victories, with his splendid army of com- peers and his illustrious line of descent—the “Model Course,” as its rich old patrons so loved to designate it, is now silent and deserted. The gal- lant spirits who reared and maintained its fame are now either dead or scattered. Ere long the gardener’s spade and the mason’s trowel will be at work transforming it into a city of the dead, and the old track, which still stretches its deserted length around the field, instead of echoing the flying feet of conquerors, will merely cushion the mournful roll of funeral wheels. No wonder therem- nants of the old club, now few in numbers, grizzly in beard and a littie tottering in carriage, look with feelings akin to suspicion and dislike upon the rival track which dealt the death blow, and that they affect to sce in the air of elegance and ex- travagance surrounding it the unmistakable and fatal elements of early decay. They miss that tude, rigid, yet sportsmanlike simplicity of ap- pointments which belonged to the old course and regard with jealousy the splendor which supplants itin the new. Its palatinl club house, with mag- nificent private grounds attached; its well- ordered stables and training quarters; its gigantic stand and numerous irnovations, in- troduced from the iconoclastic North, all tend to beget envy, if not ire, and although the attrac- tions ofthe quarter stretch and the starting bell are still irresistible to the Metairie veterans but very few consent to take an active ‘part in the new dispensation, This is much to be regretted, as the Louisiana Cinb, with all its youthful braver: and vigor, sadly lacks that experience and inti+ mate knowledge of turf lore which @ more accom- modating spirit on the part of the Metairie Nestors woula afford, It is, however, the old story of January and May over again. They utterly refuse to bear roses in the December of their lives, and will take a grim satisfaction in fading out of existence, confident in the belief that the brightest glories of the racing world will depart with them. To do the Louisiana Club justice, it is not lacking in efforts at conciliation, but it only brags about a conflict of faith, in which the old, fortified with years of success, refuse to swerve one lota from its Creed, no matter how attractive the guise in which the new paints itself. In view of this great change thus inaugurated, great aqmpath is felt and ex- pressed by all turfites for the dead Metairie, which closes thé most brilliant career ever achieved by any similar institution in this country. THE METAIRIE ASSOCIATION upon which the Metairie Jockey Club was founded, came into existence in the Fall of 1835. In the oe of that year a gentleman named Oliver, who had owned for several years previously the Eclipse Course, then situated near Carrollton, about four miles np the river, purchased the pres- ent Metairie grounds and removed the scene of his racing exploits to that locality. The new track was more eligibly situated upon the Metairie Ridge, a small belt of high ground which extends around the city about two and a halt miles in its rear. After some three or four meetings Mr. Oliver succumbed to financial pressure, and in the Fall of 1836 an organization of twenty gentiemen was formed, who purchased the ground and estab- lished the Metatrie Association. Only three or four of the original members yet Jive, but ownership and transfer of the shares was so regu- lated that its integrity has been preserved through all mutations up to the present time, With the ex- ception of the interval occupied by the war a Spring and Fall meeting has been Femularly, held upon this track for a period of thirty-six years. During its earlier history its contests were confined to local stables, among the owners of which were many of that aristocratic race of intelligent and wealthy Planters once so plentiful in the South, but now Sak away forever. Adam Binghaman, of atchez, who wrested the graduation honors from Edward Everett at Harvard College; W. R. Joln- son, of Virginia, the “Napoleon of ine Turf,” of whom John Randolph once said that he had heard more wisdom from him on the race field than he ever heard in the Congress of the United States; General T, J. Wells, of Demerara, the owner and breeder of the great Lecompte; Cap- tain W, J. Minor, Duncan F. Kenner, John Slidell et ac pregaans Coniederate fame), Garrison, of irginia; Kirkman, of Alabama; A. Keene Richards, of Kentucky, and many other names written high up onturf annals. Under such auspices this organ- ization flourished for over a quarter of a century, holding throughout its place at the head of the racing world, dictating the laws by which its was governed, and furnishing the modei upon which all subsequent clubs were founded. Among the large family of imitators which Spee, a everywhere it ‘was not free from competition. Its great success, added to the exclusive manner in which its affairs were administered, begot jealousies and rivairies, 80 that opposition clabs were repeatedly started, i of which it cont eae ig eae last its was gracefully lowere 0 ie pres. ent “Louisiana.” — In the “Binghaman” Course was started, but gave out after three meet- ings. Afterwards the “Louisiana” ran an unprofit- able career of two years, The Union Course ee up the contest in about the same length of time. and one or two others of minor Sp nates adde their scalps to the Metairie’s trophies, It was on the Metairie that the great Post Stake race took place, between Leconte, yexingson, Highlander and Arrow—an event which thrilled the entire Union with @ whirlwind of excitement, and was so magnificently described in the Pwayune of the day by “old” Jim Valentine. There it was that Lex! mn scored his great time race. But the Metairie is ay with glorious memories. It was the scene of Reel’s triumphs, of Gray Eagle's vic- tories. It gave Voucher, Daniel Boone, Ann Dunn, Lightning, Planet, Panic and Louis d’Or their well-earned laurels. It echoed to the conquering hoofs of Maid of Orleans, Starke, Prior, Prioress, Heimbold, Monarchist and conntiess sclons of the noble blood which flows through the veins of American racing stock. During this entire period its administration was conducted with the most impartial justice and the most lavish generosity. At none of the many mect- ings embraced did its purses ever amount to less than $10,000, and often they rose to $20,000 and $25,000, always paid promptly on the spot. Nobody ever thought of questioning either its integrity or its decrees; from the decision of its long line of judges none of the racing world ever dreamed of appealing. Eminent and supreme it gave tone and character to the sport, and unquestion- ably did more than or other institution math- tain that elevated hold racing has Oe | upon the appreciation of the American people. All turfites must, therefore, view its final dissolution with re- Bree; but, in ying, it only gives way to that irre- sistible march of Improvement which in all modern cities 18 constantly tearing down old idols and ploughing out the foot-tracks of our most hallowed memories. ‘The Metairie has, however, left a worthy succes- sor; one of fresher blood and more enlarged enter- rise—one more in consonance with the spirit of improvement marking public enterprises of the and one that promises to build up in til it day, Hi alos maple FROUDE AND BURKE. The Reply of the Engtish Historian to the Criticism of the Dominican Friar, at Association Hall, Last Evening. oo a aera Me FROUDE’S ANSWER TO HIS CRITICS. siiprih neces The Figures of the Father Controverted—His Historical Precedents Questjoned—A Study of the History of Ireland Invited—The Irish Peasantry Praised and the Irish Demagogues Despised—The Charge of Irish Cowardice Denied. Mr, Froude delivered last evening, to a large and appreciative audience, jn Association Hall, a reply to the recent criticisms of Father Burke on Mr, Froude’s course of lectures on Ireland. Shortly after eignt o’clock @ number of gentlemen repre- sentative of the clergy and laity of the city, pre- ceded by Mr. Froude and Mr. W. E. Dodge, entered the hal! and took seats on the platform. Among these were Dr. Bellows, Dr. Gillett, Professor Hitcheock and Dr. Bottome. Mr. Dodge oceupied the chair and briefy intro- duced the lecturer. ‘ THE LECTORE, Mr. Fronde said :— LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—If my object in coming to this country was to draw attention to the Irish subject, I a 80 far be said to have succeeded, I have succeeded also, beyond _my expectation, in eliciting a counter-statement containing the opin- ions of the Irish people themselves on their past history, the most complete, the most symmetrical, the most thoroughgoing which has yet bean given to the world. ‘The successive positions taken by Father Burke have been long familiar to me, some in one book and some in another. But nowhere have so many of them been combined so artistically, and not till now have they been presented in What may be called an _ authoritative form. Father Burke regrets that I should have obliged him to reopen wounds which he would have preferred to have leit closed. I con- ceive, on the other hand, that a wound 1s never heaied so long as there is misunderstanding, Eng- land and Ireland can approach each other only on the basis of truth, and so long as Irish ‘chil- dren are fed with the story which Father Burke has so _ cloquentl, told, so long they must regard England with eyes of utter de- testation until full atonement be made tor past wrongs. If Father Burke’s account ts true, let England know it, look it in the Jace and acknowl- edge it. Ifit be an illusion or tissue of illusions, then it is equally desirable that the Irish should know it, and a bridge of solid fact be laid across the gulf that divides us. A subject of this kind can only usefully be treated from the platform, if the audience will bear their share of the burden, if they will test by reference what they hear, compare evidence and analyze it. You will learn more from the books to which Tshall refer you than you can learn from me in the time for which I will address you, I shall myself venture to indicate the particulars where Father Burke’s narra- tion specially ds eXamination, and refer you to authorities. That an Irishman’s view should be different from an Englishman's view is natural and inevitable; but the difference must pe limited by facts, which are easily ascertainable. When they are not ascertainable elsewhere, as, for in- stance, when father Burke attributes words to me. which Inever uttered, I shall venture to speak with authority. WHAT MR, FROUDE HAS COME TO AMERICA FOR. I must throw off with a point of this kind. The Father says I have come to America to ask for the extraordinary verdict that England has been right in the manner in which she has treated Ireland for seven hundred years. Considering that [ have drawn a heavier indictment against England in the course of my lectures than she will probably thank me for; considering that I have described the history of her connection with Ireland from the beginning as @ scandal and re- proach to her, I must meet this assertion with a simple denial. Father‘ Burke goes on to suggest that England is a decaying empire, that her power is broken, her arm grown feebl the days of Macaulay's “New Zealander” not far off, that England is afraid of the growing strength of the Irish in the United States, the 8,000,0000 of them who have come from the Old Country and the 14,000,000 of Irish de- scent. It ix scarcely becoming for two British subjects to be discussing in this country whether Great Britain is in a state of decadence. England is afraid, however, and deeply afraid. She is afraid of being even driven to use again those measures of coercion against Ireland which have been twe shame of her history. * FATHER BURKE'S FIGURES A LITTLE OUT. But Father Burke’ figures, | contess, startled me. Of the 42,000,000 of American citizens, 22,000,000 were either Irish born or sprung from Irish parents. Was this possible’ 1 referred to the census of 1870, and I was still more confounded. The entire number of immigrant foreigners who we! then in the United States amounted to 5,556,566, Of these under two millions were Irish, The entire number of children born of Irish _par- ents was under two millions also. rom these figures it follows, if Father Burke is cor- rect, that in these two last years there must have come from Ireland no less than 6,000,000 persons, or more than the entire population of the island, aud that in the same two years the Irish mothers must have produced not fewer than 12,000,000 infants, I knew that their fertility was remarkable, but I was not prepared for such an astounding illustration of it. (Loud cheers.) THE IRISH DEMAGOGUES DESPISED. But Father Burke considers me unfit to speak upon this subject, and for three reasons :—First. Because I despise the Irish people. I despise them, doly Then why have 1 made Ireland my second home? Why am I here now? Am | finding my undertaking such @ pleasant one? I say that for various reasons I have a peculiar and exceptional respect and esteem for the Irish people—I mean for the worthy part of them, the peasantry— and I am endeavoring to serve them. I say the peasantry. (Cheers.) For trish demagogues and political agitators—well, for them, yes, | confess I do feel contempt from the bottom of my soul. ‘Loud cheers.) I rejotce that Father Burke has disclaimed all connection with them. Of all the curses which have attlicted Irelana the demagogues have been the greatest. HOW CATHOLIC HISTORY 18 MADE, Once more; Father Burke says I am untit to speak of [reland pecause I hate the Catholic Church. I show my hatred, it appears, by holding the Church answerable for the cruelties of the Duke of Alva in the Netherlands and for the massacres Bartholomew’s Day in France, he Father says on the first of these mi ‘Alva fought in the Netherlands against an uprising against the authority of the State. Ifthe rebels happened to be Protestants there is no rea- son to father their blood upon the Catholics.” I veg you to attend to this passage. This is the way in which modern Catholic history is composed, and you may see from it what kind of lessons children will be taught in the national schools, if Catholics have the control of the text books. I ected loud and long continued.) Father Burke himself, perhaps, only repeats what he himself learnea, I suppose he never heard of the edicts of Charles the Fifth, By those edicts, which were issued at the opening of the Reformation, every man convicted of holding heretical opin- fons was to lose his head. he was obstinate and refused to recant, he was to be burned. Women were to be buried alive, Those who concealed heretics were liable to the same penalties as the heretics themselves. The execution of the edicts was committed to | for his Church Would throw a veil of histry over those atroci- ttes in the nimeteenth, (Ct reg Oe history of the ii- justrious men who. band in that long des- ES battle for liberty of conscience, that very rty to which Catholics now appeal, Ba sacred treasure left in charge to all suc- ceeding generations, If we allow a legend like this of Father Burke’s to overspread and cloud that glorious record we shall be false to our ee ee through our imbecility and cowardice we may bequeath to future ages the legacy of another for struggle, Father Burke himself is toleration— the freest and the widest. I am heartily glad of it, I wish I could feel that he was speaking as well as himself, But my mind misgives me when I re the Syllabus. In the same number of the New Yo! from which I take his speech, I find an article condemning the admission of the Jews to the rights of citizens. When I was last in Spain there was no Protestant church allowed in the Peninsula. I used to feel that if [had the fortune to die there I should be buried in a field like adog. [f all that 18 now ended it was not ended by the Pope aud the bishops, It was ended by the Kevolution, Nor is it very hard to be tolerant on Father Burke's terms. In his reading of history the Protestants were the chief crimin: THE CATHOLICS WERE INNOCENT VICTIMS, If on those terms he is willing to forgive and for- get I, forone, am not. Father Burke knows the connection between confession and absolution. | ‘The first ig the condition of the second, When the Catholic Church admits frankly her past faults the world will as frankly forgive them, If she takes Tefuge in evasion, if she persists in throwing the blame on others who were gullty of nothing { except resistance to her tyranny, the innocent blood that she shed remains npop her hands, and | all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten them. I will assume, Eben, that Iam fit to speak on this Irish subject, and I will at once pass to it. [must | be brief, I shall pass from point to point, and leave | irrelevant matter on one side. | POPE ADRIAN’S BULL, { I £, to the Norman Conquest itself, and Pope Adrian’s bull, which Father Burke still declares to ve a forgery. I need hardly say that [ attach no consequence to the bull itself. Lanppose the Popes of Rome have no more right over Ireland than I have over Cuba, The Popes, however, did at that time represent the general conscience. What a Pope sanctioned was usually what the intelligent part of mankind held to be right. H the Normans torged such a sanction to color their Conquest they com- mitted a crime which ought to be expose The naked facts are these:—King Henry, when he conquered Ireland, produced as his authority a bull said to have been granted twenty years before by pe Adrian, It Is matter of history that from the date of the Conquest Peter’s pence was paid fegularly t Rome by Ireland. Ecclesiastical suits were ferred to Rome. Continual application made to Rome for dispensations to within the forbidden degrees. There was cl and constant communication from that. time | forward between the Irish people and clergy aud | the Roman Court. Is it conceivable that, in the | course of all this communication, the Irish should never have mentioned this forged bull at Rome, or that if they did mention it there should have been no inquiry and exposure? To me such a supposi- tion is utterly inconceivable, FATHER BURKE AND HIS TOOLS. But the bull, says Father Burke, is a forgery, on | the face of it. The date upon it is 1154. Adrian | was elected Pope on the Jd of December, 11i4 John of Salisbury, by whom the bull was procured, dia not arrive in Rome-to ask for it till 1155. What clearer proof could there be? Very plaus: ible, But forgers would scarcely have eom- mitted a blunder so simple. Father Burke's criti- cism comes from handling tools he is imperfectly acquainted with, He is evidently tgnorant that the English ofictal year began on the 25th of March. A paper dated February, 1154, was in reality writ- ten in February, 1155. ‘The Popes did not use this style, but Englishmen did, and a confusion of this kind is the most natural thing in the world in the publication of a document by which England was specially affected. ‘The lecturer here read extracts from Dr. Thei- ner’s book, in which a letter from a subseque: Pope to King Henry the Third is extracted the Vatican archives, also a letter Jrom Dot O'Neill calling himself King of Ulster, to the F speaking of the Normans m as Father Bi speaks of the English now; complaining spec! ol Pope Adrian for having, a8 an Englishman, sa re- was rificed Ireland to his countrymen. Mr. Froude also spoke at length of the bishops and the oath of supremacy to King Henry, various poinis in the history of James IL, —Bimabeth's duct in Ireland, of the rebellion which he said was by far the gravest matter he had to deal with, the administration of the Mari of Strafford, of THE COWARDICE OF THE IRISH. Mr. Froude said :—Lastly he accuses me of having called the Irish cowards, and he desires me to take the word back. I cannot take back what { never gave, Father Burke says that such words cause bad blood, and that I may one day have cause to remember them. That they cause bad vhood I have reason to know already, but the words are not mine but his, and he and not L must recall them, Not once, but again and again, with the loudest emphasis, I have spoken of the notorious and spiendid courage of Irishmen. What I said was this—and I will say it over again. 1 was asking how it was that a race whose courage was above suspicion made so poor a hand of rebellion, and { answered my question thus; that the Irish would fight only for'a cause in which they really believed, and that they were too shrewd to be duped by iliusions with which they allowed themselves to play. 1 will add that if 500 of the present Irish Police, Celts and Catholics, all or most of them, enlisted in the cause of order and | ‘ood government would walk up to and walk rough the large mov which the so-called patriots. could collect from the four Provinces of Iretand; if | it be to call men cowards when I say that under the severest trials the Irish display the noblest qualities which do honor to humanity when they are on the right side; then, and only then, have I questioned the courage of Irishmen. Mr. Froude then relerred somewhat in detail to the facts of the rebellion and closed his lecture as follows :— THE CONTROVERSY OVER. Father Burke's own knowledge of his subject is wide aud varied, but 1 can compare his workman- ship to nothing so well as to one of the lives of his own Irish saints im which legend and reality are so strangely blended that the true aspects of things and character can ho longer be discerned, I believe that 1 have shown that this is the true state of the case, | though from the state of Father Burke's mind | upon the subject he may be unaware precisely | ot what has happened to him. Any way, hope that we may now part in good humor; we may differ about the pat about the present and for practical objects I believe we are agreed. He loves the Irish peasant and so do 1; | have been accused of having nothing practical to propose for Ireland. [have something ext ely practical; f want to see the peasants taken from under the power of their landlords, and made answerable to | no authority but the law. It would not be dificult | to define for what offence a tenant might legally be deprived of his holding. He ought not to be dependent on the caprice of any individual man, If Father Barke and his friends will help in that way. instead of agitating for a separation from England, I would sooner find wh forget mg with him than against him. If he wjll forget my sup- posed hatred to his religion and will accept the nand which I hold out to him, now that our fight is over, itis @ hatred [ can assure him, which, like somie other things, has no existence except in his piso "eri (Loud and long-continued ap- plause. THE BRAIN AND THE SOUL, Fourth and Last Lecture of Dr. Ludwig Buchner. Between fifty and seventy-five persons assem- bled at Steinway Hall last night to listen to tne fourth and last lecture of this erudite German scientist. The audience were exclusively small and of the intellectual order. It is doubtful whether it was the inclemency of the weather or the unpopular tenor of his lecture that affected the attendance. On the stage, near the lecturer, hung a chart of the human brain, and on music stands were placed several casts of the brain, exhibiting the different the Episcopal Inquisition, and under them, in that one reign, the Prince of Orange, ‘Who was alive at the time, and the great Grotiu: whose name alone is a guarantee against a susp! cion of Seana ice, declares that no‘ less than fifty thousand persons were put to death in cold blood. I have myself expressed a doubt whether these numbers could have been really ge; but a better judge than I am, @ man totally untroubled with theological eg ORses- sions, the historian Gibbon, considers the largest estimate to be the nearest to the truth. don’t ask you to believe me, ladies and gentle- men—read Grotius; read the Prince of Orange’s Spology read the pages of your own Mr. Motley, And then because the Netherlands, unable to en- dure those atrocities, rose in arms to drive the Spaniards out of the country, the Duke of Alva may massacre 20,000 more of them; they are onl rebels, The Church is innocent of their blood. THE SLAUGHTER OF THE HUGUENOTS. Father Burke, in like manner, declares the Church to be blameless for the ‘destruction of the French Protestants. The Te Deums that were sung at Rome when the news came, he says, were for the safety of the King, and not for the massacre of the Huguenots. Indeed! Then why did the infallible Pope issue @ medal on which was stamped m strages, slaughter of the Hugue- nots? Why was the design on the reverse of the medal an 1 _with & sword smiting the Hydra of heresy? Does Father Burke know? su not. That the murders in Paris were but the beginning of a scene of havoc, which ead =6France and lasted for nearly two months, Eighteen or nineteen thousand per- sons were killed in Paris on the 24th of August. By the end of September the list was swollen to 000, Strangely incautious, infallible Pope, if he was only grateful for the fety of Charles the “evil! SEA Ninth; for what mast have beom the effect of the news of the Pope's approval on the veal of the or- thodox executioners? THE CATHOLIC RELIGION NOT HATED. Ladies and gentlemen, I ao not hate the Catholic religion; some of the best and holiest men Lhave ever tieard of have tived and died in the Catholic faith. But Ido hate the spirit which the Chareh in the sixteenth and seven- Wao) halg Se Api whieh stages of development, to which he referred at different times during the lecture. The lecturer opened by introducing Shakspeare asa materialist. He quoted the Bard of Avon's works to substantiate his statement as to his being @ materialist, He then reviewed the old and new theories regarding the separateness of the soni and _ the brain. Most of the theories of the eminent thinkers whom he quoted were quite in accord with his own—that is, that the soul and the mind were one and the same ae and that when a man died, he died forever. He then spoke at great length upon the science of phrenology and localization. His re- marks were of the technical order, and many of the non-professionais in the audience took a nap while he was Sey the mysteries of the science and a jaining the theory of psychol- ogy. The lecture closed with “Immortality of the Soul and Soul Substance.” In his remarks under this head Mr. Buchner attempted to prove the fee of the first clause of the title by proving he latter clause, that is that the soul was sub- stance and not spirit. It is stated that Mr. Buchner will deliver his four lectures—“The Influence of the Sun on Animal and Vegetable Life,” “Soul Substance,” “The Ent- wickelung Theory,” and “Mind and Soul” in other large American cites, AN IMPORTANT RAILROAD ‘DECISION . St. Louts, Nov. 30, 1871. A suit was decided yesterday in the United States District Court at Jefferson City, which al- fects nearly all the railroads in the State. It ap- Pears that bonds issued by many counties to rall- Toads have not been stamped according to law, and the United States brought suits to enforce _ the penalty. The suits against Buchanan and Jackson counties were made as test cases, The defendants demurred on the ground that as public tions the counties wore nas ohergenwin. wish 1 it to evade the law, and were therefore not ir ‘ties to proceed: of demurrer was sustained by SSsacs Geaceons " THE GREENVILLE TAXPAYERS. ——— Another Meeting of the Discontented Ones Held Last Night. a ereeenn A Hearing of the Case To Be Had on Monday Afternoon—The Feeling Against the Street Commissioners on the Increase. ‘The troubles of the Greenville taxpayers, instead of showing signs of abating, continue to inerease. During the past week the Street Commissioners have been unusually active, and they have taken | Strong measures to kill the opposition that is being maniferted them, Judge Dillo- way, who is the leading spirit of the taxpayers, has been twice arrested on cHarges of false imprisonment and perjury, on both of which he bas given bail, and his prosecutors seem determiued to push the case against him. ‘The Commissioners yesterday, however, showed > what seems to be a disposition to compromise the dis- pute by offering, through the counsel of the Finance Committee, Mr. Abbett, of Jersey City, to reduce the local taxation to the amount of $22,000 less than what they originaily determined to collect. This action was caused by Mr. Fleming, of Greenville, who brought a case into the Supreme Court to have the taxation laid aside. ‘the offer seems an admission of weakness, butthe Commissioners claim that the first estimate was caused by an error, and that the offer made by Mr. Abbett is a correction of that error. On last evening a meeting of all who are opposed to the Commissioners was held tn Schreimer’s Halt, and notwithstanding the severity of the weather it WAS LARGELY ATTENDED. ‘The chair was taken by Judge Schultz, and Mr. Detwiller was appointed Secretary, In the ap- sence of the Secretary,of the previous meeting. the minutes were not read, M dent of the Democratic Club of ‘eenville, Was the first speaker, He said that it would be better at the outset to detail what had happened during the week in order that his audience ieht be kept thoroughly posted relative to what us transpiring. ‘The Commissioners were doing _ all in their power to maintain the line of conduct,. had marked out tor themselves, and any in- ce of that was afforded by the unsuccessful ecution to which Judge Dilloway had been gub- jected during the week. A warrant was first issued by Justice Chambers, of Jersey City, for the to arrest ‘of the Judge on a charge ‘of per- and the officer w was sent to the arrest was directed to make it late at night, so that it would be impossible to | procure bail and the prisoner would have to be | taken t The om was | more ge and the arrest was | hot made antil the morning, when the | Judge was taken before Justice Martin, of Bayonne, who admitted him to bail and fixed the hearing of ; the case for two o’elor in the after- noon of a future Justice Chambers, who is generally believed to be in league with the Commissioner | was not taken t was proc on Friday bail an act which, 3 dent, giving bail t was enraged that Mr, Diloway re him, and another warrant of which was that Justice Champers, Carey said, was without a prece. wice on the same charge. arey aid tha Dilloway’s counsel were srmined to insist upon the hearing to- morrow, and they had issued sub- ponas to imsure the attendance of Messrs. SEYMOUR, MORE D CADMUS, the members of the street ring. A subpoena had | also been issued to compel Justice Chambers to artend and produce the affidavits on winch he issued the warrants. (Applause.) Mr. Di.toway, Who was received with cheers, Was the next speaker, He said the Commissioners had been trying to make a victim of him, but they vould not intimidate him, as he was determined? to thoroughly expose their fraudulent acts, He wis one oF the committee of twenty-seven sent to examine the books oj the Commission, and from that. examination he was convinced that there were gross frauds and «discrepancies in the accounts. hey were open and palpable to every one, and he was thoroughiy convinced that he had good and suflicient reasons to have the warrant for the ar- rest of the Commissioners on a charge | of attempting to derraud. the inhabitants | of Greenville. He had been taken before a | partisan justice yesterday, and had been forced to | give bail under protest; but he knew Chambers, he had known him for twenty years, and if he did not make him squeal his name was not Dilloway. (Ap- Diause.) The Street Commissfoners were DETERMINED TO CHEAT THE PEOPLE to the last moment of their fraudulent existence, and they had so fixed matters that an appeal to law was rendered necessary, and this appeal must be made in @ manner that would entail great ex- pense upon the suffering taxpayers. . A Vorce—Well, club them out. Mr. DILLOwAY—Y we will club them out, bat it will be by the arm of theiaw. (Applanse.) Mr. Dilloway continued at great length to dilate upon the conduct of the Commissioners and concluded by urging united action to accomplish their overthrow. Mr. Carry, in a second address, mentioned, as an instance of how the taxes had increased during the year, his own case. Last year his taxes were $99. This year, on the same Amount of property, they were more than three hundred dollars. The thing must be stopped, and on Mon- day next, when Mr. Dilloway hud his hearing, they were determined to make @ test case and see how far the law would permit the Com- inissioners to go. They now had an opportunity to clear themselves by producing their books, and if they did not appear and prodtic m they would mVicted in the © pt the, world, was adjourned to mect agaln next Saturday evening, when it is expected matters will be brought to a crisis, THE BROADWAY FIRE. Investigation by the Fire Marahal. Fire Marshal McSpedon commenced an investi. gation into the causes of the fire at’ Keily & Leon's Theatre, in Broadway, on last, Thursday morning. ‘the following is the evidence takeu up to the time of going to press :— Jacob Sharman, being sworn, said :—I live at 316 East Thirteenth street; I was cashier of the Arion Saloon; on the morning of November 28 I left the Place about two o'clock; left Mr. Charles Carson and Mr. Charles Seymour there; Carson vas the lunch counter, and Mr. Seymour was a friend of his; Carson was to close up; our stage was built under the stairway leading to Kelly & Leon’s Theatre; we built it last Maren; have no change in it since; the foot lights were sunk below the surface of the stage, the woodwork about them was all covered with tin; the lights above the stage were gas jets attached to a pipe passing above the stage from side to skle horizontally, the light being about two feet from the floor above, which was protected by tin nailed thereto; in the basement of 720 was alager beer saloon extending the entire length of the main building, and back of that de- scending a few steps, was a large room, used as a kitchen, which extended partially under our stage ; T cannot say that this place was used as a kitchen at the time of the fire; our place was heated by one large stove, which was placed in the middle of the hall underneath the theatre,and theepipe ran diagonally into a flue in the _ nort wall; our meter was about five feet south of the stage and down stairs, on a level with the yard; the gas was not shut off at the meter at night; there was no passage Way on that side of the house leading from the main building to the theatre; the space under the theatre was filled with rubbish of all kinds, which had been accumulating since the theatre was tirat opened; there was also a quantity of shavings there; every time any ci pad wouk was done all the shavings were left here; the proprietor of the Arion had $2,500 $ surance and the loss will be about thought our place as regards fire safe some time we had no insurance; the main entrance irom the sqreet the theatre was a corresponding passage leading from the coal vaults in front back to the dressing rooms of the theatre, . Passing under our stage; ata point almost under the font of the stairs leading into the theatre were three gasmeters, and beside them & Jet which was very dangerous; it was left burning night and day, and [ have frequently put it out; Ido not know whether it was burning on the night of the fire of not; there were three lights along that passage-way, between the meters and the theatre; they were usually lighted during tl evening; the lights were about @ foot from the floor, and were not protected; this way was used exclusively for the lessees of the tre. A MONUMENT AT GETTYSBURG TO GENERAL MEADE, GETTYSBURG, Pa., Nov, 30, 1872, « At a meeting of the Gettysvurg Battiefied Me- morial Association yesterday resolutions were adopted providing tor the erection of a memo- rial column and statue in honor of Gen- eral Meade, An executive committee, con- sisting of ident ‘ant @ numbet of generals was selected to have cl of @ fund of $100,000. It was resolved that an Testi EGA Geert See slatures @ Mayors an which ) te a sorees: to the ee of the uy ani ivanta Reserves aud the