May, has brought down on my devoted head. You must know that having resided but a few months in your city, I was totally ignorant of the existence of said custom. So, on the morning of the eventful and to me disastrous day, I rose, according to immemorial usage, at dying away of the last echo of the breakfast bell, and soon found myself seated over my coffee, and my good landlady exercising her powers of volubility (no weak ones) apparently in my behalf; but so deep was the reverie in which my half-awakened brain was then engaged, that I did not catch a single idea from the whole of her discourse. I smiled and said, "Yes, ma'm," "Certainly ma'm," at each pause; and, having speedily despatched my breakfast, sallied immediately out and proceeded to attend to the business which engrossed my mind; dinner time came, but no time for dinner; and it was late when I was at liberty to wend my way over wheelbarrows, barrels and all manner of obstructions, towards my boarding-house. All here was still; but, by the help of my night keys, I soon introduced myself to my chamber, dreaming of nothing but sweet repose; when, horrible to relate, my ears were instantly saluted by a most piercing female shriek, proceeding exactly from my own bed, or at least where it should have been; and scarcely had sufficient time elapsed for my hair to bristle on my head before the shriek was answered by loud vociferations of a ferocious mastiff in the kitchen beneath, and re-echoed by the outcries of half a dozen of the inmates of the house, and these again succeeded by the rattle of the watchman; and the next moment there was a round dozen of them (besides the dog) at my throat and commanding me instantly to tell them what the devil this all meant. "You do well to ask me that," said I, as soon as I could speak, "after falling upon me in this fashion in my own chamber." "Oh, take him off," said the one who assumed to be master of the house. "Perhaps he is not a thief after all, but, being too tipsy for starlight, he has made a mistake in trying to find his lodgings." And, in spite of all my remonstrances, I was forthwith marched off to the watch-house to pass the remainder of the night. In the morning I narrowly escaped commitment on the charge of burglary with intent to steal (I verily believe it would have gone hard with me if the witnesses could have been got there at that unseasonable hour): and I was finally discharged with the solemn admonition to guard in future against intoxication. Think of that, sir, for a member of the Cold Water Society. I spent the next day in un

raveling the mystery and found that my landlord had removed his goods and chattels to another part of the city on the established day, supposing me to be previously acquainted and satisfied with his intention of so doing, and another family had immediately taken his place; of which changes my absence of mind, and absence from dinner, had kept me ignorant, and thus I had been led blindfold into a Comedy (or rather tragedy) of Errors.-Spirit of the Times, New York, May 5, 1832.

One evening an associate editor of the Tribune accosted him as he came to his desk with some such question as this: “Didn't you know, Mr. Greeley, that you made a dreadful blunder in one of your statistical editorials this morning?" "No; how was it?" said Mr. Greeley. "Why, you said something about Heidsieck and champagne. Don't you know that Heidsieck is champagne?" "Well," said Mr. Greeley quietly, "I am the only editor on this paper that could make that mistake."— JOEL BENTON, Cosmopolitan Magazine, July, 1887.

When General Dix was in command at New York and had charge of Fort Lafayette, and some of our fellow citizens who had been endeavoring to destroy the best government in the world were shut up there, a prominent democrat made his appearance at the military headquarters with a letter of introduction from Mr. Greeley and a demijohn of whiskey, to the neck of which was tied a card, addressing it to a gentleman of celebrity at that time retired in the fort from public activities. The conjunction was so singular that General Dix was disturbed and with great austerity asked, "Why should I send a jug of whiskey to your friend in Fort Lafayette?" "Because," said the bearer, "my friend likes whiskey." The general regarded him grimly for a moment and smiled and said, "I hadn't thought of that; it isn't a bad reason; the whiskey shall go to your friend,” and it did. This was one of Mr. Greeley's favorite anecdotes. He told it with unction and said it was one of the most surprising instances that had come within his observation of the power of plain telling of the simple truth.-MURAT HALSTEAD, Cosmopolitan Magazine, February, 1890.

A person who wished to have a little fun at the expense of his consistency said in a group where Mr. Greeley was standing, "Mr. Greeley and I, gentlemen, are old friends; we have drunk a great deal of brandy and water together." "Yes," said Mr. Greeley, "that is true enough. You drank the brandy

and I drank the water."-JOEL BENTON, Cosmopolitan Magazine, July, 1887.

After the settlement of his estate the Sun published a list of Mr. Greeley's assets. It would have been one of the most laughterexciting documents on record had it not been so pathetic-the pathos being evolved in the reflection that so much good money should have been expended in exploiting schemes that one would imagine could not have gained a moment's attention outside of the walls of a lunatic asylum. . Indeed, had it not been that his true friend, McElrath, the publisher of the Tribune, insisted on taking charge of his finances it is probable that the Greeley family would have been without the necessaries of life.-The Bookman, April, 1901.

GROUCHY, Emmanuel, Count de, 1766-1847. French marshal.

The last time I was at Waterloo, many years ago, the guide who accompanied me told me that a short time before a man, whose appearance was that of a substantial farmer, and who was followed by an attendant, called on him for his services. The guide made his usual rounds, making his oftrepeated remarks, and commenting severely on Grouchy. The stranger examined the ground attentively, and only occasionally replied, saying, "Grouchy received no orders." At last the servant fell back, detaining the guide, and in a low tone said, "Speak no more about Marshal Grouchy, for that is he." The man told me that after that he abstained from saying anything offensive; but that he watched carefully the soldier's agitation, as the various positions in the battle became apparent to him. He doubtless saw how little would have changed the current of the fight and knew that the means of doing it had been in his own hands. The guide seemed much impressed with the deep feeling of the marshai and said to me, "I shall never speak ill of him again."-"Personal Reminiscences," Atlantic Monthly, May, 1858.

GUILLOTIN, Joseph Ignace, 1738-1814. French statesman.

Never, indeed, has the irony of history been bitterer or more striking than in this instance. For whilst the idea of death by decapitation alike for noblesse and roturier was Dr. Guillotin's, with the machine itself with which his name became irrevocably fastened he had nothing whatever to do. The inventor was another physician, one who had also risen to the foremost rank and who, like his colleague, was a humanitarian, Dr. An

toine Louis, son of a surgeon attached to the military hospital at Metz. . . . It remained for a skilful mechanician, a German, by name Schmidt, to carry out Dr. Louis's design, a design of extreme minuteness, not the least little detail having been omitted. Schmidt's efforts were successful and under the name of "la Louisette" the automatic and instantaneous decapitator forthwith replaced the breakings on the wheel, mutilations, burnings and torture unutterable of ante-revolutionary times. But every third French man or French woman bearing the name of Louis or Louise, such a designation was speedily discarded. The “guillotine” replaced "la Louisette," an honest and deservedly illustrious name being thus travestied for all time.-BETHAM-EDWARDS, "French Vignettes."

Propositions presented by Dr. Guillotin, October 10, 1798, to the National Assembly: 1. Crimes of the same kind shall be punished by the same kind of punishment, whatever be the rank of the criminal. 2. In all cases (whatever be the crime) of capital punishment it shall be of the same kindthat is, beheading-and it shall be executed by means of a machine. 3. Crime being personal, the punishment, whatever it may be, of a criminal shall inflict no disgrace on his family. 4. No one shall be allowed to reproach any citizen with the punishment of any of his relations. He that shall dare to do so shall be reprimanded by the judge and this reprimand shall be posted up on the door of the delinquent and moreover shall be posted against the pillory for three months. 5. The property of a convict shall never more in any case be confiscated. 6. The bodies of executed criminals shall be delivered to their families if such be demanded. In all cases the body shall be buried in the usual manner and the registry shall contain no mention of the nature of the death.-Quarterly Review, March, 1844.

M. Guillotin, a learned physician, had invented, two years before, the instrument of death which he deemed best calculated to abridge the sufferings of the culprits condemned to forfeit their lives by the sentence of severe but just laws. His invention was laid hold of for the purpose of despatching a greater number of victims. That was the expression used by a member of the convention. M. Guillotin, whom I have known in his old age, was inconsolable for what he considered an involuntary blemish in his existence. His venerable countenance bore the impress of a settled gloom and his hair

of snowy whiteness afforded a clear indication of his mental sufferings. He had aimed at relieving the sorrows of human nature and he unintentionally contributed to the destruction of a greater number of human beings. Had they been put to death in a less expeditious manner the people might soon have been wearied out by those executions, which they showed the same eagerness to behold as they would have done theatrical representations. GEORGETTE DUCREST, "Memoirs of the Empress Josephine."

The guillotine, formerly known in England as the Maiden, was used in the limits of the Forest of Hardwicke, in Yorkshire, and the executions were generally at Halifax.Notes and Queries, December 26, 1857, quoting “a London publication in 1801."

(The Gentleman's Magazine, March and April, 1793, tells the following: Lord Lovat's Maiden was used in Scotland; an engraving, done in 1553 at Altegrat in Westphalia, shows a machine for the beheading of the son of Titus Manlius; a similar machine was used in Persia in 1510; twenty-five were decapitated by a similar machine in England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth.)

GUSTAVUS III., 1746-1792. King of Sweden.

A story was current that the king had stooped to a trick to deceive his subjects— that in order to persuade them that the war was a defensive war he caused a troop of his own cavalry to dress themselves in Cossack costumes (supplied from his own fatal opera house) and to make a false attack upon his advance guard. The story is questionable, but it served the turn of the conspirators, and chimes in singularly with the theatrical destiny of the king.

A short time before the beginning of the war a Swedish and rather unsparing satire against the king had been published in Stockholm. The author was detected and summoned to the palace. The poor man naturally looked for condign punishment. "I see," said Gustavus, after some little questioning, "I see you have much talent and much wit; but, poor fellow, I fear you have not much bread. I am desirous that you shall not be so hungry again and I therefore appoint you inspector of my library."-Putnam's Magazine, November, 1854.

It is certain that he frequently consulted a prophetess, named Arfwedson, who

Gustavus III.

was living until some time after my arrival in Stockholm. It is not less certain that this same woman warned him, previously to his journey to Italy, to beware of red clothes, and that the first person he afterwards met with in clothes of that color was the very Count Ribbing, who twenty years later belonged to the number of his assassins, but who at that time was in great favor at court on account of the intimacy which subsisted between his mother and the mother of the monarch. To take off something of the wonderful from this circumstance it is necessary to add that the king went up to the count to whom he communicated the piece of advice he had just received and pretended to laugh at it; but still his aversion to this favorite dated from that moment and may partly serve to explain how Ribbing became one of the bitterest enemies of Gustavus. The king's fears of meeting with red clothes were manifested on several subsequent occasions. During his residence at Rome he went to pay a visit to the Vatican, where he was received by two cardinals. At the sight of them he started back, recollecting that he had forgotten the protecting talisman which he was accustomed to wear at his breast in a little satin bag. Without venturing to advance another step, he despatched Count Taube, one of his most confidential attendants, for the tutelary amulet which he hung around his neck and then proceeded with boldness and courage. On his return to his hotel he had to encounter another alarm, being informed that a stranger in a red coat was waiting for him. The king, however, soon recovered his composure when he recognized in this dreaded traveler Count Axel Fersen, who, being just then making a tour of Italy, had come to Rome to pay his respects to his sovereign.-BURGOING'S letters on Sweden, The New Monthly Magazine, January, 1818.

The poor king fell, mortally wounded, in the arms of his devoted Count Armfelt. Utter confusion followed. An immense crowd, swaying to and fro, dispersed the conspirators. The pistol was found upon the floor, but the hand that had pointed it was hidden among the innocent. Gustavus alone seemed to preserve his presence of mind. "Let the doors be closed," he exclaimed; "let all unmask," and, looking round upon every face and seeing but one general expression of alarm and grief, a natural greatness in his soul rose uppermost. "God grant," said he, "God grant he may escape."-Putnam's Magazine, November, 1854.

(

HANCOCK, Winfield Scott, 1824-1886. American general.

A number of faint hearts, taking advantage of the night, started to the rear. The general specially noticed (it was a moonlit night) two individuals making hasty strides in that direction. He halted them, asking them who they were and where they were going. They replied that they were officers and were not leaving the field on account of being alarmed, but because they had not yet been mustered into service and they did not think it right for them to go into action in that unprotected state. "Well," said the general, "if that is your only trouble I can relieve you. I am General Hancock, your commanding officer; I will muster you into service now. Hold up your right hands." They held up their hands and the general administered the oath from memory. "Now," said he, "you are mustered in; join your command and remain with it."

When Hancock was encamped with his brigade near Lewinsville, Virginia, in the spring of 1861, before the Army of the Potomac moved to the Peninsula, certain officers of his command desired to know whether he would accept as a mark of esteem from the brigade a silver service. The general declined the gift, stating to those who had come to see him on the subject that he did not approve of such presentations and at all events it would be best to wait until the war was over, as in the mean time the officers and men concerned might change their feelings towards him.JOHN W. FORNEY, "Life and Public Career of Winfield Scott Hancock."

A rebel major-general, with nearly his entire division, was captured. Among the brigadiers taken was General George H. Stewart, an acquaintance of General Hancock, and a former regular army officer. This person was ushered into General Hancock's presence. The latter, with characteristic frankness, offered his prisoner his hand with the remark, "Stewart, I'm glad to see you." Stewart, who was afflicted with overwhelming ideas of his own importance, drawing himself up, said, "Under the circumstances, sir, I cannot take your hand." With quiet composure Hancock replied, "Under any other circumstances, sir, I would not have offered you my hand."-A. S. SOUTHWORTH, "Life of General Winfield S. Hancock."

HARLAN, John Marshall, 1833-1911. Judge of the United States Supreme Court. The matter was to be presented on a motion which under the rules, as they then stood, an hour was allowed to each side, and I suggested that my associate should open our case, intending that, if he presented it satisfactorily, I would leave him the entire time allotted to us; but he was so full of his case that he began the presentation of it in a way that would have required hours. I was growing a little nervous over the situation myself, but I hesitated to interrupt him, because I thought it might confuse him and, just as I was debating with myself what to do, Judge Harlan called on him in a stern voice to "come to your point." My young friend, confused beyond description, managed to say that he was coming to it; but Judge Harlan replied that his time would be consumed before he reached it and that in the meantime the court would have no idea of the question he was trying to present to it. It was a trying experience for a young, new member of the bar and I felt it so keenly that I shared the young man's resentment. A few days afterwards I happened to meet Judge Harlan as he was coming to the Capitol and I told him bluntly that I regarded his rebuke of that young man as little less than cruel. Instead of exhibiting an irritation, which would have been entirely permissible against a member of his bar who had presumed to criticize his conduct, he turned to me and, smiling, said: "My dear senator, you do not understand my purpose. I saw that the young man was embarrassed by his surroundings and I desired to relieve him from his embarrassment." I told him that I thought he had chosen a curious way to producing such a result and he desired me to watch the young man when he next appeared in his court. It so happened that a re-argument of that very case was ordered, and when my associate and myself appeared here to argue it at the next term I found Judge Harlan's remedy for a lawyer's embarrassment completely justified. When the learned justices interrogated my associate upon the second argument he answered them with as little embarrassment and more confidence than I could summon and acquitted himself so admirably from the beginning to the end of his address to the court that at the close of it Judge Harlan looked over to me, plainly pleased with the outcome, and afterwards recalled the circumstance more than

once. JOSEPH W. BAILEY at the Supreme Court proceedings in memory of Judge Harlan, December 16, 1911.

He insisted on the dignity of the Supreme Court being maintained and in 1895, when the ambassadors thought the justices should make the first call in the social order of things, contrary to the previous understanding, Justice Harlan wouldn't have it and that season he did not call on the ambassadors.

For a number of years he refused to have a telephone put into his house, but, when he was away on a vacation one summer, Philander C. Knox, then Attorney-General, had a telephone put in and when Justice Harlan returned he submitted.

He played golf a great deal and once on the Chevy Chase links with an Episcopal bishop as opponent the bishop missed the ball several times, but made no comment. However he looked his disgust. "Bishop, that is the most profane silence I ever knew," said Justice Harlan.-New York Sun, October 15, 1911.

Justice Harlan was very fond of the late Justice Peckham. The latter twitted him about his Presbyterian predilections and in turn was twitted about being a democrat. On one occasion Justice Harlan was explaining to his brethren that he would be forced to absent himself from court on the following day to attend a Presbyterian conference. "You are such a good Presbyterian, Harlan," said Justice Peckham, "that I don't see why you are afraid to die." "I would not be afraid," responded Justice Harlan, "if I were sure that in the next world I would not turn up at democratic headquarters."-New York Tribune, October 16, 1911.

Justice Harlan and Justice White chewed tobacco while on the bench and a story was written once that Justice Harlan "borrowed a chew" from Justice White. Justice Harlan pretended to be very indignant and insisted on seeing the man who wrote the article. "It's wrong," said Justice Harlan ; "it was White that borrowed the chew, not I."-New York Sun, October 15, 1911.

The venerable and learned Justice John M. Harlan, during a game of golf at Chevy Chase, explained the intricacies of evidence to a young man. "Usually in conflicting evidence," he said, "one statement is far more probable than the other, so that we can decide easily which to believe. It is like the boy and the house hunter. A house hunter,

Harrison (Benjamin), President

getting off a train at a suburban station, said to a lad, 'My boy, I'm looking for Mr. Smithson's new block of semi-detached cottages. How far are they from here?' 'About twenty minutes' walk,' the boy replied. "Twenty minutes!' exclaimed the house hunter; 'nonsense; the advertisement says five.' 'Well,' said the boy, 'you can believe me or you can believe the advertisement, but I ain't trying to make a sale.'"-The Green Bag, July, 1908, quoting the Washington Star.

Shortly before his death he became partly conscious and spoke his farewell words to those who were at his bedside, evidently with great difficulty: "Good-by, I am sorry to have kept you all waiting so long."-New York Sun, October 15, 1911.

HARRISON, Benjamin, 1833-1901. PresiIdent of the United States.

Harrison would grant a request in a way which would seem as if he were denying it. An eminent western senator said to me once, what, of course, was a great exaggeration, that if Harrison were to address an audience of ten thousand men, he would capture them all. But if each of them were presented to him in private he would make him his enemy.-GEORGE F. HOAR, Scribner's Magazine, February, 1899.

The story was told-how true it is I do not know that in one of his railroad campaigns through Indiana he was making a series of those remarkable speeches for which he became famous, and at every place he stopped the crowds who listened would become wildly enthusiastic. Then he would hold a reception in the car and the people, after shaking hands with him, would pass out of the other end of the car silent and depressed, as if suffering from a chill. A wag in the party, who was particularly anxious that the good effect of his speech should not be lost in a certain town, pulled the bell rope and started the train as soon as Harrison stopped speaking. When chided for this he said, "Don't talk to me; I know my business. Ben Harrison had the crowd red hot. I did not want him to freeze it out of them with his handshaking."-JOHN S. WISE, "Recollections of Thirteen Presidents."

Mrs. Harrison had finally decided upon some slight architectural changes and brought her approved plans to the president and asked his opinion of them. General Harrison studied the drawing with care and noticed that several niches were left, each plainly marked. At last he said: "Well, my