Ligonier Banner., Volume 25, Number 38, Ligonier, Noble County, 1 January 1891 — Page 3

GRANDMA. : Beated onodayin her easy chair, ‘ ' A dainty cap on her snow-white halr, Her gold-rimmed glasses astride her nosa Was grandmamma knitting her winter hose. I sat and watched that dear, kind face, Where I'ather Time had left many a tra~e; I wondered why it was wrinkled so, 4nd asked her if I would ever grow Wested and thin and bent with age? . “Onh, yes,” said grandma, ‘‘a certain page Of your life, dear child, for you will hold The fruit of age—you will grow old. * The golden loclts that crown your brow Will, perhaps, be whiter than mine are now; And thoss little cheeks so round and fair Will bear the impress of time and care. # And those bonny eyes g 0 wondrous bright Wil lose their luster; that step solight Will heavy grow, and years roll on . And the lovely freshness of youth be gone. * Past holds all there was once for me— . Its memories cover my childhood’s glee; Tho' days of my youth are buried there With happy smiles I used to wear.” : She sighed, and tears began to flow As she peeped at the days of long ago; ! And poor old grandmamms, couldn’t refrain From wishing, that she Jre young again! —Katherine Mills, in Detroit ¥'rec Press.

BRIEL, The Hali-Breed. A Romance of Colonial Days. ; BY RCEERT A. CUMMING. : 1 [COPYRIGHT, 1890.] CHAPTER XVI.—CONTINUED. ’ “Ariel!” exclaimed her husband, very much in the tone of a man who hadseen @ ghost. The boy gently disengaged himself from the arms of his- friend, made a gesturc with his hand and disappeared, but-soon returned, followed by Marden, Mlle. Destain and the squaw. Jabe’s delight at meeting with his Captain, of whose fate he had been - 80 long uncertainy was undemnnstra;tive', but not the less evident, while the appearance of Ninon and the Indian- woman evoked much curiosity among the little group. Mutual explanations followed, and while Marden felt all a soldier’s grief at the fall of Oswego, which he knew must have followed soon after the escape of Jabe and his companions, and at the doubtful fate of his {friends in « the garrison, he was too well aware of the dangers of the present moment to waste time in useless regrets. . . Ariel was directed to tale his station . in the tree and watch the movements of the savages, while Marden procecded to inspect the boats and malke preparations for departure. Eph, the fisherman, ‘gave his opinion in favor of the bargze, being more manageable in a rapid cur~ rant, with oars, than the sailing vessel in the intricate and narrow passages of the islands. £ “It will hold us all,” said he, ‘“and we can rig a sail on her when we get her into clear water.” . “*How many cffective men have we got?”’ asked Marden, *Well, there’s Jabe; he can stand in the bow with an oar, to guard against rocks that don’t show above water; Dan and me can take an oar each, and Peter, he’s the weakost, can steer.” : . **Ariel and I can each take an oar,” added Marden, ‘““that will make four, S 4 FrlseEE S s BRI AN I s : : ” ;&r;";w.‘ \w'f{/l}ﬁg U |y PR — s N Sl bty o % A e e BNN | 5 PR = ARt = V= oAN / / f Li,"; = LT A N L e&2 %0 Kol 2 N~ ‘(f\ \ /'}-.,, ‘:\//z.. J %@f S S| R = *ARIEL!” EXCLAIMED HER HUSBAND. and we ought to get clear of the islauds in two or three hours.”

‘““Which way will we go, Captain?” asked Jabe. i

“Wo will try to make the mouth of the Richelicu river, whero I will leave you to find your way home by Lake Champlain, while I go to Montreal to restore Mlle. Destain to ker friends. Ariel and the squaw will accompany us.” R

The topmast of the gun-boat was set up in the barge, with its sail ready to hoist when occasion should serve. Ariel ¢ame down from his perch to report that the Indians were preparing a feast of the vprovisions of the murdered _Frenchmeﬁ? and, by their frantic demonstrations, he judged thcy had found someo liquor among the stores. It was therefore certain that they would remain where they were till next day. Marden resolved to depart at onge. The barge was launched, the women and children madeas comfortable as possible, and the mun took their places. One of the bark canoes was taken in tow, Marden, the last one on shore, sprapg into his place, and the dangerous journey began. o s ‘-;__“ CHAPTER XVIL o AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT. ! A few days after the events deseribed in the last chapter, Montreal was much excited by the news broughtin by a courfer to the effect that General Montcalm had taken Fort Oswego, and was prepar“ing todrive the English back to tho seaboard, if not into the Atlantic ocean itself, so highly arc events exaggerated, especially in time of war; and while the men gathered in tho streets and wine-shops to discuss the news and drink to the success of la belle France and her heroic gencral, many a woman’s cheeks grew pale and her eyes moist with tears for some absent soldier whose life was more precious to her than the glory which he courted or won ‘upon the field of conquest. ’ - Mme. Chevreul, proud. as she was of her ancestry, whose names adorned the goll of French chivalry, felt quite as scutely as the humblest soldier’s wife ghe pang of doubt about her husband’s #ate which followed the first thrill of mational triumph. This feeling was dominant as she sat on the veranda of Mrs. Vernon’s house, listenig to that Jady’s gentle words of hope. Fo her the battle of life was fought; she had ‘buried her dead, and her wounded heart mew%gb!eﬂ at the story of another’s woe. For her, glory awoke no enthasiasm, defeat no humiliation. The viewamm “her sympathy and W;B*hﬁl?g foﬂg‘ ~ed the pod banner of England or the “ibﬁmﬂw striv-

ing to pour the balm of hope into the heart of her friend.. : The stars were looking down on the broad river and the restless town with that divine serenity, which, like Christian faith, shines all the brighter for the surrounding darkness. : This was Mrs. Vernon’s theme, of which she never wearied, and. so sweet and earnest were sthe words which flowed from the fountain of conviction in her soul that she seldom failed to pour the oil of hope and consolation on the heart of her listener. : Mme. Chevreul dried her tears. *I saw a meteor shoot across. the sky just now” she said, ‘‘so bright, so beautiful, it seemed like an omen of good.” Tfhe clder woman shook her head. “Omens are for unbelievers. The Star of Bethlechem heralded the greatest event the world has ever known; but it ‘was not an emen; it was—" She stopped. There was a shadow between her and the stars, a silent presence at her side, a gentle touch upon her shoulder; a divine intuition whispered to her heart. : :

¢Ariel!” she cried, stretching out her arms.

“Ariel!” repeated Mme. Chevreul, with her eyes still fixed upon the stars; ¢“Ah, yes, Ariel would be a sure messenger of good tidings.” o

- ‘““He is here!”'said:Mrs. Vernon, in a voice subdued by emotion. The boy traced some characters upon her hand. “They are here!” she cried. ‘Fran- . - ; \;H P',,\ Lo 2072 - ‘l = '.‘”.e'.‘»,"‘iA }A; . Uil st L 1/ ¢y aeni // 2/s}@ F oA G«SS £ // {;/fﬁn 2 gy RN Wy - U ‘St Y S ASER) \ ;;1;\\51‘.“‘“?: Wi\ 4’ N o bl //‘?’;'“,ﬁ” .-.”ﬂb/’y' ."\ el i // e "i,.ié% "”,”"”7\ /I/l/ﬁil )w". ] 7 i (N 7 TNy RTINS s %,,,\\\ \‘&’2///’; v \\:/ (ﬂ”l\‘\eg‘ i CW/ TR y \ i g T W =1 NN |4 \.‘,lﬂg : o= 87 N\ A\ \V* N (y NOE N\ e R S e Lif Ay i 1 ) 'k\\“\ AR ‘/‘" =g L bR <A T N o L W MRS, VERNON CLASPED TIHE HAND OF THE : . mAtmeEREED. cois! Francois, do you hear me call? Bring Lights!? . 0 “Who are here?”’ asked Mme. Chevreul, rising in great agitation. The old servant, startled by the imperious tone- of his gentle. mistress, hurried to the veranda with a light. - Mrs. Vernon stood clasping ;the hand of the half-breed, while the I'rench lady, grasping the rail of the veranda, gazed into the darkness, from whence emerged two figures, and as they cameo within the circle of light another more remote. o :

‘““Ninon, my child! is it thou? hast thou returnad to my heart, my love?” Mme. Chevreul sobbed the words forth as she held her niece in her arms. Marden, his foot upon the step of the veranda, his face alone visible, gazed upon the scene with the satisfaction of one who has accomplished a difficult task; while Stella, a few paces behind him, looked on with the wondering expression of a child. ' : An hour later Mlle. Destain wasrelating to her friends the story of her mysterious abduction from the burning house. Ariel had retired to rest, and the squaw was asleep on the veranda. The party were seated around the table in the dining room, from which the cloth had just been removed. “I'ull of anxioty for ‘he fate of our friends,” she said, ‘I was about to follow my aunt upstairs, when I was seized with a sudden apprehension .of danger. Hesitating what to do, I became awarc of smoke in the room; then I ran into the hall to give the alarm; my foot was on the stairs, and I sereamed ‘Fire! once, when a blanket was thrown ‘over my head, ahand pressed upon my mouth, till between terror and suffocation, I lost my senses. I must have remained unconscious for a long time, for when I opened my eyes again, I was lying on some furs on the. bottom of a ecanoe, with my head in the lap of the Indian woman. The bladket was removed and I could breathe freely. The stars were shining, but there were no lights on tho shore, by which I knew that we were some distance from the town. From my position I could distinguish butlittle in the darkness, except a dim form in the stern of the canoe. I tried to speak, but the squaw laid her: finger on my lips. I lay still for a long time--hours I think—when I fell aslecp. It was daylight when I awoke. The canoe was tied to the shore, and my captors were preparing a meal, of which I could not partalkke. I then discovered that there was another canoe; I also recognized Llemouricr’s negro servant, who seemed to be in command, but the squaw directed his course. The white men were Canadians whose duty it was to paddle the canoes, kindle fires and prepare meals. After that first night the journey was continued by daylightonly, and we occasionally met a party of Indians on their way to Montreal, but a few words from Stella, as I have named her, satisfied them that we were friends. The negro treated me "courteously, but would answer no questions as to our destination. At last we arrived at the issand where Captain Marden found me, and you can imagine my terror at the fate which I believed awaited me, and hosv I prayed for help even if it camein the form of death, until that moment of supreme happiness when I felt the pressure of Ariel’s hand in. the darkness of my prison.” “But how did Captain Marden find the clue which led him in the pursuit?” asked Mme. Chevreul.

*Mrs.-Vernon found it,” Marden replied. ‘“‘An Indian woman whom she had befriended, and who was an unseen witness to the embarkation, revealed it to her, and Ariel and 1 started in pursuit, believing that their destination was Fort Frontenac. We therefore followed the north shore of the St. Lawremce, but would have passed them, had not their camp fire betrayed them to Ariel’s sharp eyes. The credit of the rescue belongs to him.” He then went on to describe the subsequent events with which the reader is familiar, adding: “My task being accomplished, I must return to my duty. My presence here is unknown to all but yourselves and must remain so, lest the military authorities should object to my departure. If I may olaim your hospitality for twenty-four hours, Mrs. Vernon—" “And Ariel?” interrupted Mlle. Destain, i ; “He will accompany me,” sald Marden. ‘““There is@ bond of affection between us whichs danger and hardship have cemented too closely to admit a

thought of separation. Ask him, and he will confirm what Isay.” ; “What if the chances of war should leave him unprotected?” asked Ninon. “He would return to Mrs. Vernon.” ~ “Iknow youare generous and unselfish, “’said the young lady earnestly. “I owe everything to those qualities, and I appeal to them now. Leave Ariel with us for atime. Hls devotion to you has taxed his strength beyond the natural limit. He needs rest and care.” “A mother's care,” added Mrs. Vernon, with emotion. “Captain Marden, I urge that claim, although Icannot prove it legally; but I believe that my prayer has been heard and that one of my lost children has been restored to me in the person of this boy. Mme. Chevreul, you know my story—the long years of bercavement and hope deferrcd. Plead for me.” Marden, much agitated, was pacing up and down the room. He stopped and faced the lady. He was very pale and his lips trembled. .

““It needs not,” he said; “I admit your claim.” His mind reverted to the story which Jabe told him in the ruined hut in the forest, and which had passed from his memory like a dream in the exciting incidents which followed its narration.

‘‘There need then be no delay and no parting scene,” he added after a pause. “] will depart at once. The canoe which brought us lies upon the shore, and there is a possibility of overtaking Jabez Locke and his party.” “Not so,” exclamed Ninon, carnestly. “There is more to be told, but not now. Wait till to-morrow, Captain Marden. I entreat you to add this to the great debt of gratitude I owe you, and perhaps,” she added, laughing and sobbing hysterically, “I may be able to pay some part of that debt—to give you in exchange for the life you saved, a precious something which will adorn your own.” : “Ninon!” exclaimed her aunt, rising in great alarm. . : : “Nay, aunt, bear with me for a time. And you, dear Mrs. Vernon; I will explain all to you, Captain Marden,” she added, regaining her composure, though her eyes were shining through their wet lashes. ‘‘You will grant my request?” - - “T cannot do otherwise,” he stammered, his surprise overcoming his reasoning faculties. ‘““But I assure you, Mlle. Destain, that there can be nc question of reward between us. ' I have done no more than my duty to you and my friend De Barzac, and—"

“He will thank you for both of us,” she said, blushing, and holding out her hand, which he pressed to his lips, and bowing to the .elder ladies, retired to rest, cscorted by Francois. ,

Ariel was not at the brealkfast table nextniorning, and Marden obscrved that Mrs. Vernon’s face wore an éxpression of serenc content which made her look ten years younger. Mme. Chevreul, too, cast aside her omens and premonitions and sparkled with gayety. e ~ Ninon alone, while she regained her usual composure, was paler than her wont, and her eyes frequently wandered to Marden’s face, as‘if she was trying to fathom his inmost thoughts, which, if she had succeeded, would scarcely have repaid her for her pains, being, indeed, in a chaotic state; for it should be remembered that the young soldier was more used to the lifo of camps than the sweet yet perplexing tactics of the fairer sex. The prospect, tooy of his solitary journey may have affected his spirits, and the ladies found him silent and abstracted. : i

After breakfast Ninon and Mrs. Vergon withdrew, leaving Mme. Chevreul to enteftain the guest, a task for which she was well fitted, and while she interested him in the story of some of her husband’s campaigns, she drew him on to tell his own, unsuspecting that the time thus occupicd was essential to the preparation of a grand tableau vivant in which he was to take an involuntary part. Presently a door opened behind them. - Mme. Chevreul rose and faced about. Marden mechanically followed her example. ‘Three ladies entered the room, Mlle. Destain leading by the hand one closely vailed, Mrs. Vernon a step behind. :

Mme. Chevreul took the young soldier’s hand and led him forward.:

‘“Captain Marden,” she said, ‘I have the honor to introduce you to Miss Lucillo Vernon.”

He trembled and stood still. . Deftly the vail was removed and fell to the feet of the statuesque figure. . Marden’s brain reeled, stout soldier as he was; he put his hands to his heart and staggered forward. He saw 2 pair of eyes brimful of holy love gazing into his. He fell upon his knees and grasped ahand whose pressure he kneiw full well. e heard a voice he never heard before:

“George! dear master] It 13 your own Ariel!” Surprised and bewildered—a

| = [ L T\l l “@ i 3‘;‘ V (i = ¢ (el 7520 / ‘ iy Lgßijla 15 ._\:) A S ,"‘r'/.- :l AL YAER {?‘« : | 3 /é ’,,M" n« :Y\‘/ ( ‘ Y A \"% & E"'f\'\‘.‘“\ y_‘ I\ . ﬁw\!&w G\ 2 \1 2 ST ) i is")o Ui ]\ et ,' /é/v i \WITE )T AR e /: i /”\s"’ FRANAL ﬂ ANY. e L |\ e : j '\"‘gég I B e & ) ‘\x\'s\'&! | LA Lr o) },, 1 | Qg &8 ‘ \)mm oo i) Nckote - - ‘‘rr I 8 YOUR OWN ARIEL!” thousand waemories rushing tumultuously over his soul—his fingers relaxed| their hold wpon her hand, and he fell senseless at her feet. : When he recovered consciousness, he found himself clasped in the arms of the mysterious maiden who united in her person the ‘well known characteristics of ‘his devoted follower with those of a phantom who sometimes haunted his dreams, but vanished ere the dawn of light. Turning his glance from those eyes so full of anxious tenderness, it ‘rested upon the pale faces of the three ladies whose romantic scheme had resulted so creditably to their artistic conception, but with more serious results than they had anticipated. But when ho opened his eyes and the color came again to his cheeks, Mme., Chevreul clapped her hands in infantine glee and declared it was the grand ¢limax to a romantic story. i : “And to me,” said Mlle. Destain, ‘‘is assigned the duty of the chcrus in the | Greek play. I am to explain that which | is obscure and mysterious to the audience, that is yourself, Captain Marden. To Jabe Locke’s wife I am indebted for | the secret which Luocille conflded to her, '

and which like a true woman she kept inviolate even from her husband until she saw the opportunity to divulge it tc one whom sho believed would use it to her friend’s advantage. “It was a strange coincidence that I, who knew Mrs. Vernon’s history, was thus enabled to furnish a missing link to the identity of her lost child, which is now as certain as circumstantial evidence can make it. Last night I made the secret known to Mrs. Vernon and my aunt, and we persuaded Lucille that the time had come to throw aside her assumed character, and also to test the quality of your regard for her uader the influence of a ?dden revelation of kßer sex. In this I think we succeeded,” she added, with a smile. ‘“You have done more,” he replied. ‘“You have solved the question which I have so often vainly asked myself—why do I love this boy more than all others, and feel his absence as something gone out of my life? Truly, as Jabe said, the mind is a mysterious essence, for did I not love this woman in spirit while I believed her to be a man? But there is something more to explain. She has a brother.” :

**She %ad a brother,” said XNinon, “but he died on the return to Canada, after his rescue by yourself. This suggosted the plan which she acted upon. She assumed his character, in order to be near you. Perhaps you can discern her motive; if not, she will tell you herself.”

““It was gratitude,” said Lucille, soft-

“It was the grand passion,” cried Mme. Chevreul, ‘‘for which we women live and sometimes die!”

“‘lt has made tho happiness of my life,” said Marden, fervently. “And now yon must listen to me,” said Mrs. Vernon. ‘Captain Marden willreturn to hisduty;but my daughter willremain with me untilan opportunity offers to return to Massachusetts. She must be educated in order to take her place in society, and when Captain Marden comes to claim his bride, he will find =& lady worthy of his name and social pwosition.” :

‘lt shall be as you say,” replied Marden after a moment’s hesitation; ‘‘but she will bring me nothing which I will prize so. dearly as the devoted love which has clung to me through years of hardship and danger.” ' '

Marden served through the Frenck war till its culmination in the capture of Quebec, where Renwick fell by hig side in the van of the Colonial troops. After that event he retired from the army and hastened to Boston, aecompanied by his friend Selwyn. The wedding was a grand affair for those days, being graced by the attendance of many English and French officers, among whom were Major Chevreul and Captain De Barzac with their wives. Jabe Locke in the nniform of a lieutenant and his Nellie were there too. The bridal vail was surmounted by a coronct of pearls and diamonds, the gift of Mme. De Barzac, nes Destain, and the dark-eyed bride was an object of interest to all, especially the few wha knew the history of Ariel, the Half Breed. | - THE END.

TWO KINDS OF SENSE. The Difference Botween Common-Sense and Its Ideal Relative. Probably very few people could give, on the spur of the moment, a satisfactory definition of common-sense; yes €very one would agree that it is a possession well worth seeking. Of a very aspiring soul it was once said: ‘“He had -the sixth sense, the sense of the ideal;” doubtless those who have that sixth sense would not, for worlds, barter it, even to attain that practical mastery of affairs which they may lack, but they would bs fortunate, indeed, if that which they want could be ‘‘added unto it.,! T wish,” said an angry father to his dreamy boy, ‘that you had more comg|mon sense—even if you had less that i 3 uncommon.” : : But the boy had illustrious company in his ideal paradise; many names which will be long remembered have belonged to dreamers and theorists. It was said that the elder Mirabeau had imagination enough for twelve men, and not common-sense enough for one. Yet his imagination was a rich possession, ‘and made up for his lack of ability to think practical thoughts in a prosaic way. .

Secretary Seward once said of Horace Greeley: “He is an exceedingly clever man, but he wants common-sense. If he had a little of that, we should be cempelled to hang him.” : Though one might not care to attemps defining common-sense, an excellent illustration of the difference between it and its ideal relative may be found im the remark of a steady-going merchans, whose son had become a poet. “Clarence never was much like me,” he said. ‘““You see, I’'m always looking round to see if the fences want mending, orif Ican kill a potato-bug, and Clarence has his eye on the clouds by day, and the stars by night.” Yet the idealist need not look down on his practical fellow-worker.

- ‘“All are néeded by each one; : Nothing is fair or good alone.” Iron holds as honorable a place in earthly uses as the shifiing mercury. — Youth’s Companion. Advice to Young Ministers. . In one of Dr. Burton’s Yale lectures the following advice was given to the young ministers: ‘“When trouble is brewing, keep still. When slander is getting on its legs, keep still. When your feelings are hurt, keep still, till you recover from your excitement at any rate. Things look differently through an unagitated eye. In a commotion once I wrote a letter and sent it, and wished I had not. In my latter years I had another commotion, and wrote a long letter; but life had rubbed a little sense into me, and I kept the letter in my pocket against .the day when I could look it over without agita tion and without tears. 1 was glad I did. Silence is the most massive thing conceivable sometimes. It is strength in its very grandeur. It is like a regiment ordered to stand still in the mid~ fury of battle. To plunge in were twice as easy The tongue has unsettled more ministers than small salaries ever did, or lack of ability.”

Ax English photographer claims te have discovered a solution of the much vexed problem of how to retain in a photograph tHe tints 6f nature. Electricity 1s the agent by which this is to be accomplished. The discovery is said to have been made accidentally. ‘A blind~ ing flash of lightning came just es an exposure was being made, and the result was the reproduction of the natural colors of the picture, :

VICTORY EVERYWHERE.

Ex-President Cleveland’'s. Able Speech at New York.

The ¢“Campaign of Education” Won in ‘ Spite of Republican Sneers and Buried the G. O. P. Beyond Resurrection.

The following is the address of exPresident Grover Cleveland, inresponse to the toast, ‘“The Campaign of Education; Its Result Is a Signal Tribute to the Judgment of the American People,” delivered at the Reform Club dinner, given in the banquet hall of the Madison Square Garden, New York, Tuesday evening, December 23:

MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN: I suppose I have a correct understanding of what is meant by “The Campaign of Education.” Assuming this to be 'so, I desire before going further to acknowledge the valiant services in this campaign of the organization whose invitation brings us together to-night. I may be permitted,; I hope, to make this acknowledgement as a citizen interested in all that promises the increased prosperity of the country, and I shall also venture to do so as a Democrat who recognizes in the principle for which the campaign has thus far proceeded a cardinal and vital doctrine of Democratic creed. If I thus ‘acknowledge the useful services in a Democratic cause of any who have not claimed long affiliation with my party, I feel that my Democratic allegiance is strong enough to survive such an indulgence in fairness and dezency. lam, too, at all times willing that the Democratic party should be enlarged, dnd as tending in that direction I am willing to-ac-cept - and acknowledge in good faith honest help fro\m any quarter when a struggle is pending' for the supremacy of Democratic principles. Indeed; I have an idea that in the Campaign of Education it was deemed important to appeal to the reason and judgment of the American peopleto the end that the Democratic party should be reinforced as well as that the activity and zeal of those already in our ranks should be stimulated. If this be treason in the sight of those who, clothed in Democratic uniform, would be glad to stand at the entrance of .our camp and drive back recruits, I can not help it. Ihave come here to-night, among other things, to rejoice in the numerous accessions we have received in aid of Democratic endeavor and to give credit wherever it is due for the work of conversion.

The grand and ultimate object -of the Campaign of Education was the promotion of the welfare of the country and the relief of the people from unjust burdens. In aid of this purpose, and of course subordinate and accessory ¥ its accomplishment, it became necessary Prst of all to arouse the Democratic organizaton to an apprehension of the fact that the campaign involved a Democratic principle in the advocacy of which the party should be active and aggressive. Let it be here confessed that we as a party had, in these latter days, been tempted by the successes our opponents had gained solely by temporary shifts and by appeals to prejudice and selfish interests, into paths which avoided too much the honest insistence upon definite and clearly defined principle and fundamental Democratic doctrine. To be sure, some earnest men in the party could but ill conceal their dissatisfaction with the manner in which cardinal principles were relegated to the rear and expediency substituted as the hope of success; but the timid, the heedless and those who, though nominally belonging to the organization, were not of the faith, constantly rendered ineffective all attempts to restore the party to the firm and solid ground of Democratic creed. If these things are confessed, let it also be’ conceded that when the time came and the cries of a suffering people were heard, and when for their relief a genuine Democratic remedy was proposed, the party easily recognized its duty and gave proof of its unconquerable Demceratic instincts. As .soon as the Campaign of Education was inaugurated, the party was quickly marshalled as of the olden time, aggressive, courageous, devoted to its cause and heedless of discouragement or defeat. Day by day and hour by hour expediency and timeserving were thrown to the winds. Traitors were silenced, camp followers fell away or joined the scurvy band of floaters, while the sturdy Democratic host confidently pressed on bearing aloft the banner of Tariff Reform. If any have wondered in the past at the tenacity and indestructibility of our party their wonder should cease when in the light of the last three years, it is seen how gloriously it springs to the front at the call of its duty to the people and in obedience to the summons of party loyalty and obligation. : ¢ Thus the education of the campaign meant, as related to the Democracy, its awakeningin ‘response to the signal for its return tothe propagandism of Democratic doctrine. =t The thoroughly aroused enthusiasm.and determination of the party, and its allied thousands of good and earnest men drawn from the non-partisan intelligence and honesty of the land, saw no obstacle too formidable for attack .and no end which was not within their reach. In a sublime confidence, almost- amounting to audacity, they were willing to attempt the education of those high in the counsels of the Republican party and those who. formulated that party’s policy so far as such a thing existed. -~ lam afraid, however, that if this task may be considered a step in the Campaign of Education, the word education, as applied to those who were to be affected, must be construed das meaning the instillation of such fear and terror in the minds of unregenerate men as leads them to flee from the wrath to come.

| But even in this unpromising field we are able to report progress. No one who remembers the hilarity with which the leaders of the Republican party greeted the message of tariff reform, and the confidence with which they prepared to meet and crush the issue presented, can fail to see how useful a lesson has been taught them in our campaign of education. Within twenty-four hours after the submission to Congress of the question of tariff reform, sundry Senators and Representatives belonging to the Republican party were reported to have jauntily ventilated their partisan exultation in the public press, - If it be true that a Senator from Nebraska saill “it is a big card for the Republicans,” this g card can not appear remarkably useful to im now, for his State to-day contains a big curiosity in the shape of a. Democratic Gover-r-elect. the junior Senator from New York declare at his party would carry this State by the largest\najority ever known if theyvcould be given the platform proposed, the reply will come when i a few days a Demuvecratic colleague i aced by his side. . If a/Senator from Maine declared ‘it is a good enough platform for the Republicans—we want nothing better,” how is it that he is now so diligentiy endeavoring to find out the meanin e word Reciprocity? - 1 (If a New Hampshire Senator believed that ; “the Republicans want nothing better with which to sweep the country,” the trouble his Stige is giving him to-day must lead him to susp there is a mistake somewhere. If a Senator from Wisconsin gleefully said he was glad to see us ‘‘Show our hand he can not fail to be convinced, w e soon gives place to a real good, scund Democrat, that there was, after all, more in the hand than he cared to see. If the pregent Speaker of the House sarcastically said: *lt only shows what fools all the other Presidents have been,” he may well be excused, since he has lately so thoroughly learned that ir the sight of the people infalli bility is'not an attribute always to be found in the Speaker’s chair. 1f the Representative from Ohio whose name is associated with a bill which has given his party considerable trouble of late, said ‘if the Democratic party had hired Burchard to write a stump speech it could not have suited us better,” it must be that circumstances leading to his approaching retirement from public life have suggested a modification of his judgment. ~ As our campaign has proceeded other unusual symptoms have been apparent among those prominent in directing the opposition. Some of them have become insubordinate and dis- { contented. and at times actually disobedient to party orders. Some have left the ship. One shrewd and weather-wise navigator has clambered off; and, in a frail bark, with the ward | “‘Reciprocity’” painted on its stern, was last seen hovering near, prepared to climb | aboard again, or sail away, as wind and wave would appear to make most safe. At the present stage of the campaign the unwieldy party hulk of Bourbon Rgpublicanism is still afloat, but damaged and badly leaking: On board, some are still working at the pumps ‘against the awful odds of opening seams; - many, mutinous and discontented, short of pro~visions and of grog, are loudly and angrily dis- | puting as to whether bad seamanship or overloading*is the cause of their wretched plight, while accusations of guilty responsibility are { heard on every side. If, from this turbulence, | there shall emerge any who, actually pricked in consclence, desiroa better life, they willbe gladiﬂrgl omed. I cannot, however, keep out of my - mind %o, the plous deacon who, haying, 1 his efforts fo convert a bad sinner, be- | ~ bome 80 excited by his ~f‘saﬂ;.-at.u;.‘-‘slﬁ'\e» ibility that he

gave him a thorough drubbing, afterwards explained and justified his course by declaring that he believed he had ‘‘walloped saving grace into an impenitent soul.” i : '~ Of course, we do not overlook the fact that before their present predicament was reached, and in their first battle with us, the enemy gained a victory over tariff reform. This is confessed; and we may here only refer to the methods by which that victory was gained for the purpose of saying that we thoroughly understand them, and that if the beneficiaries of those methods are satisfied with the condition they have wrought, we also are not without compensation. That we have cause for satisfaction, even in the remembrance of temporary defeat, is evidenced by the fact that among those who ought to rejoice in success there is quite a general sentiment *that the least said of it the better.”’ ; : I have spoken of the Campaign of Education as it has affected the two great party organizations. Itremainstomention another and a more important and gratifying featureof its progress. Irefer to the manner in which access has been gained to the plain people of the land and the submission to their reason and judgment of the objects and purposeés for which the campaign was undertaken. :

The Democratic party Is willing to trust the: ordinary intelligence of our people for an understanding of its principles. It does not seat itself above the common feelings and sympathies of humanity, and in an arrogant assumption of superior learning formulate political doctrines suited only to those favored with advanced educational opportunities. It recognized the fact at the outset of the Campaign of Education that it was not the ignorance of the people which had led them to submit to the evils of bad Government, but that it was partly owing to the busy activity of their occupations, and the consequent neglect of political subjects and partly to the rigidity of their party ties and their unquestioning confidence in party leadership. Having once settled upon their political affiliations they had been wont to turn from a watchfulness of public affairs to the daily routine of their labor with muech virtuous satisfaction in the reflection that they were not politicians, : Tnerefore, the labor of their education in the campaign has consisted in persuading them to hear us; "to examine the theories of party organizations and the ends to which they lead; to recall the promises of political leadership and the manner in which such promises have beenredeemed; and to counsel with us as to the means by which their condition could be improved. - Never was more intelligent, honest and effective effort made in a noble cause than that made by the Democratic party and its allies in this work. Our féllow countrymen were approached, not by fabricated.extracts from English journals and a lying demagogic cry of British gold; not by fraudulent pictures of the ruin of American industries .if the justice of governmental favoritism was questioned; not by a false presentation of the impoverishment and distress of our laboring men which would follow their independent. political thought and action; not by a disgraceful proposition for the purchase of their suffrages; and not by the cruel intimidation, by selfish employers, of those dependent on them for the wages of their toil. -

‘We have been content to rely upon the intelligence and thoughtfulness of the people for the success of our cause. We have solicited the most thorough examination of its merits. For the purpose of such examination we have put before the people plain and honest expositions of the justice and beneficence of our principle. This has been done by the systematic and industrious distribution of tariff-re-form literature, by the effective - and. conscientious arguments of .a well-informed and unsubsidized press, and by an extensive discussion on the platform of the question involved. These are the weapons we have uded in our ‘Campaign of Education. It is' a cause of congratulation to-night that our work has been done in a manner so decent, and in itsS best sense so purely American. - . Need I speak of the result of our. labors? This happy assemblage called together ‘‘to celebrate the victories achievead in the cause of tariff reform” tells the story of our success. ‘We will rejoice to-night, not only in our success and the manner. of its achievement, but as American citizens ‘ve will especially rejoice in the proof which our victory affords of the intelligence, the integrity, and the patriotism of our fellow-countrymen. -We have again learned that when roused to thought and actien they can be trusted rightly to determine any questions involving their interests and the welfare of their country. 3

Let us not fail to realize the fact that our work.is not done. Our enemies are still alive and have grown desperate. Human selfishness is not easily overcome and the hope of private gain at the expense of the masses of our people is not yet abandoned. It would be shameful, and a pitiable disgrace, if by over-confi-dence, we should lose the ground we have gained, or if we should fail to push further our advantage. The result of our labor thus far is, indeed, a ‘“signal tribute to the judgment of the American people.” In full faithin thisjudgment our work should continue upon the lines thus far followed until the enemies of Tariff Reform are driven from their last entrenchment. As the people have trusted us, let us, above all things, be true to them. Let the light of our campaign be. carried into every part of the land where it has not been seen, and where it has been kindled let it be kept brightly burning, still showing the way to .better days for the people, and disclosing the plans of insidious foes. C In the years to' come, when we look back with patriotic satisfaction.upon our participation in the glorious struggle for tariff reform and recall its happy termination, it will delight us to remember every incident of discouragement as well as of triumph in the people’s cause. Then, when we are asked to speak of our proudest political endeavor and to give the best illustration of American intelligence and to pay the highest tribute to the judgment of the Ameri-can-people, we will rehearse the history and the grand result of “The Campaign of Education.”

THE GREAT NORTHWEST.

Governor Boies, of lowa, Discusses the Recent Upheaval in the Agricultural States —Democracy the Party of the People. °

The following is the address of Horace Boies, Governor of lowa, at the Reform Club dinner, held in the banquet hall of the' Madison Square Garden, New York, Tuesday evening, December 23, in response to the toast, ‘‘Our New Allies in' the Northwest: What Qur Farmers Have a Right to Demand:”

MR. PRESIDENT: The sentiment of the toast to which I am invited to respond is one of surpassing interest from both an economic and political standpoint. Its importance when considered with refer ence to the Nation at large, is intensified whent applied to the prairie States of the Northwest which are to a marked degree the food-produc-ing districts of this continent. : A brief statement of the situation in my own State will as well present the condition in the district referred to as can be done in the time at my command. : : : According to the most reliable statistics attainable at this time, nearly fifty per cent. of the male population over ten years of age in Towa are engaged /in agricultural pursuits, while less than three per cent. are employed in manufacturing enterprises of all kinds, protected and unprotected. : ! Years ago that State had attained the first rank in this Union as ascorn-producing State, and this has carried her to the head of the column of States as a proaucer of the best quality of beef, pork and dairy products; in other re'spects she is not behind the most favored of her sisters in nearly everything that pertains to agricultural pursuits in that latitude. ’ Statistics show that the average wages of able-bodied men upon the farms of lowa are eightecn and one-half dollars per month, or about seventy cents per day and board, the lowest price paid any class of like laborers in the State; and yet out of nine hundred farmers reporting to our Commissioner of Labor Statistics during vhe present year more than eight hundred claim that this help at these wages has been employed at a loss instead of a profit. during each of the five years last past.. = Out of the same number an equal peortion assert- that the actual cost of producing this cereal, the most profitable of all that are raised within that State, has, during the same period, exceeded the entire value of the ecrop when harvested, saying nothing whatever of income from the capital invested in the land required to produce it. ok e e

It is estimated by those making these reports that the cost of producing an acre of corn ready . for market is 88.00; that the average crop for ‘ five years has been 383} bushels, and smtis»ticad show that the average price of this corn in our: local markets, soon after harvest, during such l period; has been 22 .cents per bushel, making the entire value of the crop when marketed, $7.33, or sixty-seven cents less than the actual cost of production at market rates of labor, - | What is true of the production of corn in Towa is equally true of #ll the great staples raised on her farms. When we congider the immense capital invested in the farms of a) single State and are'told that for five 'wha_lel _yeors it has not paid enough to comapensate the

labor employed, it is apparent that no other business in this country could have withstood such a condition of adversity during so prolonged a period: and it is equally ‘gﬁrtain that had it beén practicable for the farmers of the country to withdraw their capital from this line of industry their numbers would have been greatly reduced, even in the best of the agricultural States. : ; But this was impractigable and from the very necessity of their situation they have continued a business burdened with loss instead of yielding a profit, (if the market value of their labor is considered,) out of which this Nation has gathered three-fourths of all its exports, and by reason of which it has heen able to preserve a balance of trade in its favor that has constantlv- added to the aggregate of our National wealth. - y : i

It is, however, if we stop to reflect, easy to discern that if the chief businessof a country is being done at a 10ss, and yet that the country as a whole is becoming rich, there must be some flagrant error in the industrial system that produces such a result. : With the facts demonstrated by statistics as they are, that the Nation’s wealth is being constantly ‘increased; that it is largely derived from its agricultural resources and that thoseengaged in that industry are transacting business at a loss instead of a profit, is it difficult to understand that those who produce the greater part of the Nation’s wealth do not enjoy it? We can easily see that if a dozen men were engaged in as many different pursuits, and eleven-of them were compelled to give up to the twelfth the entire profits they earned, the aggregate wealth of the twelve might be greatly increased, but in that case there would be one very rich man and eleven very poor ones. < If we extend the example it is equally apparent that if the great body of men engaged in~ i-ndusm(ialfpursuits in any nation are compelled by lawlor otherwise to surrender to a few the profits of their labor, the Nation as such may grow rich, but its wealth will Jbe concentrated in the hands of its favored few, while the many, robbed of their share of the wealth which the labor of all has produced, must of necessity remain poor., : Ido not hesitate to say there is no possible justification for a system of laws that produces . such a result.

No plea for the Nation’s prosperity, however eloquent that plea may become, can smother the indefensible wrong that takes a -single dollar from the earrings of one class of its citizens and bestows it as a boury upon those of another. : I will not stop now to question whether the industries of ‘a ndation may or may not become 80 adjusted and equalized that a protective tariff could be made equally advantageous to all, -

It is enough to know that they are not so equalized in the United States. If the farmers and laborers of this country . are required to. contribute from their earnings : to wuild up lines of industry in which they are not-engaged, it is absolutely certain that those who give must become poorer thereby, while those who receive will grow rich from the avails of labor they do not perform, and itrequires no stretch of the imagination to foresce that under such a system time alone is needed to divide these classes in this the proudest Republic'on the globe, as the human family is already divided in the most aristocratic mon- \’ archies of the old world. ; " ‘lt is infinitely better that this Nation should remain poor with its property, such as it has, distributed among all its classes, than become thé richest on the globe with its wealth concentrated in the hands of a few. . No.dream of a theorist could conceive of a ; condition more perfect than one which would divide and could maintain, with equal effort on the part of individuals, an equal distribution of a nation’s wealth among all its citizens. = | This is impracticable, but what can be saii in favor of a system that strikes the very roo of this equality; that aids by artificial means - in preventing’ the nearest approash to, such equaf’lity that the human family is capable of attaining? Certainly nothing if men are just. - If this is the result of a protective tariff the argument is ended. L - Let -us consider further its effect upon the farmers of his tcountry. X It is a self-evident proposition that a tarift levied upon products which a nation produces largely in excess of its own wants, which it is ~ constantly sending abroad because its own: markets will not take or use them, can have no possible effect upon the price of such commodities, and hence it follows that so longz as we are producing annually hundreds of . millions in value of agricultural products in excess -of our own wants, no tariff levied upon like products can benefit the farmer, i of Legislators may spread such laws upon the statute books, but they should be as poweriess to deceive as they are to benefit the parties in whose favor they are professedly made. . It is equally apparent, as has been demonstrated so many times, that'a tariff upon manufactured goods increases their cost and the- - of like goods produced at home, because of such goods we produce less than we use and - hence must supply our ‘wants in part by importations from other countries. : But this.increased cost is not the farmer's chief ground of complaint against a protective tariff. He must have a market for his surplus .productions in foreign lands. Unlike the manufacturer he produces largely more than the 5 home market will take. The most important question therefore for lim'to eonsider is how to extend the markets for his products. Nothing is morejplain than the fact that if we sell to foreign nations we must buy of them. No nation could long pay in gold for any considerable amount of imports and escape bankruptey. It follows irresistibly that a tariff that keeps ‘the products-of any foreign nation out of our markets must to a considerable extent keep ours.out of its market, and inasmuch as the g, farmers of the country supply ‘three-fourths of all our exports, they are the chiefi sufferers from any policy that accomplishes such a reBull e }

1 have 'spoken of the condition of agricultural industries in my own State. Ihave called attention to the fact that for years titese indus tries have been progsecuted at a loss instead of a profit, and I affirm without fear of contradi'c_-F tion that there is no State in this Union where the great staples of agriculture, the productions that supply necessary food for man and beast, can be more cheaply produced. 4 I want now to say to the bugsiness men of thig" Nation, and to politicians as well, that_some ° plan must be devised to get this industry on a different basis, or this Nation must prepare for a storm, the consequences of which—in both & political and economical sense—no man can measure; I want to say further that the men engaged in this industry are not gcing to wait for a . home market to grow up around them that is large‘enough to consume the enormous surplus they annually produce. It is relief for themselves and not for generations unborn that they demand. : : ' Recalling the sentiment of my toast, “What our farmers have a right to demand,” permit me to add they represent an industry as old at least as the civilization of man, as laborious as any that has ever fallen to his lot, without the successful prosecution of which the whole human family would lapse into barbarism and end indecay. A business that forms the base of every other, without which the channels of trade would run -dry, the cities of the earth molder into dust, and the wealth of the world disappear. * Considered apart from their business they are the bone and sinew of this Nation. With their own calloused hands they have produced the "pbulk of its wealth; in times of war they have been its sturdy defenders, in times of peace the promoters of its-welfare. % Who shall set the limit of their rightful demand upon a country they have made and preserved? Surely I can not do this to-night. Brief indeed must be my reference thereto. ‘They have a right to demand that in the future policy of this Government. no discrimi nation be made in favor of other industries at the expense of their own; that the power of the Government to levy taxes be limited to the single purpose of raising necessary revenue to ‘be economically expended; that all property Bear its just portion of that burden; that markets broad enough t&?x}gqme the products of their labor and capitél at compensatory prices be as carefully looked after and nurtured as those that consume the productions of labor and capital employed in other lines of business. They may also demand that a currency which is good enough for one man shall be; madé good enough for all ethers and plenty enough to preserve a just equality between its value and the value of the products of labor inall = legitimate kinds of business. That both the Na. tion and the State shall exercise over linesof transportation a reasonable and just control, - to the end that their products, mﬁ‘ﬁ@wm | compared to their vaiue of any produced, shall not be subjected to charges out of proportion te such value. e R _. It 18 because the Republican party in a line of successions but onoa broken in athirdof a century has ignored their reasonable demands, ‘because in all that time but one voice in high places has called attention to the most essential of their wants, and that voice was the voice of a Democratic President, that they turned to his party in the elegtion, the results of which We are assembled to celebrate. , - ;fﬁa}mw: Ng!%'&: -, ) ‘."';;‘se' ﬁhiﬁd"mai}fﬂ,rrl will be true to its new allies in the Northwest, - UEbR s s EE R SRS e O