The Sun.
London, England, 1868-05-14 00:00:00

never by it pausod one moment to enjoy the fruits
of past successes, and will die in the harness as
a Radical. Curtis cannot be compared with
Phillips either in intellectual power, nor in extent
of service ; he, perhaps, gives his hearers as
much thought as they demand, but that is not
much, whereas Phillips gives them more—forces it
upon them. Nor is Curtis so prophetic in insight,
nor so free from party ties. But he has all the
qualities for a popular favourite, combined with
singular rec:itude of the moral nature; nothing can
be more charming than his rhetoric, more agreeable
than his voice, more graceful than his elocution ;
and he has before him a distinguished and use-
ful eareer, though widely unlike that literary life
for which he at first seemed destined. A more
recent favourite is Theodore Tilton, editor of
the New Yore _independent. Ile shows in the lecture
room the same ability which has built up the Inde-
pendent, while he is so free from bigotry as to be
constantly charged with latitu linarianistn. lie has,
moreover, a very sympathetic nature and ready wit,
and that sunny disposition which is such a priceless
gift to a reformer. The only other speaker 3 who
habitually venture to exceed the hundred dollar
limit for even their Western lectures are Sumner
and Agassiz. Henry Vincent, the English visitor,
has received one hundred and fifty dollars for
each of his sixty Western lectures, and is
said to have won popularity. There still
remain a few acknowledged leaders who should
especially be mentioned. Emerson, for instance,
still retains his hold upon his countrymen, after
some thirty years of lecturing, and is heard with
respect and attention. Edwin Whipple aids Emer-
son in keeping a pace upon the lecture-platform
for the literary class. Bayard Taylor represents
the indefatigable travellers. The Rev. Dr. Chaplin,
of New York, is almost the only clergyman, save
Beecher, who stands high as a lecturer also,
and the effects he produces are due rather to a
natural heartiness and vigour than to any depth of
thought or culture. He has the trait, which

Emerson thinks essential to the orator, "of giving
out vast quantities of animal heat." Frederick
Douglas represents the coloured race with a natural
eloquence that twenty years of public speaking have
only matured. his glow and fervour are extraor-
dinary, and so is his dramatic power ; there is, too,
a sort of massiveness about him, which is contri-
buted partly by his grand physique, and he sur-
passes in his perception of the finer felicities of the
language all other " self-made men." Mr. Hig-
ginson sees no reason why Gough should not
annually earn thirty thousand dollars in this
profession, so long as his strength and popu-
larity hold out. The remuneration is out of all
proportion to that paid even for first-class literary
work, and Hawthorne could hardly have earned
from a m tgazine by a month's labour what a lead-
ing
lecturer may harvest every night. It may be
said in summing up, that the American lecture-
system is constantly expanding and becoming better
organized as to its methods, as well as more liberal
in its rewards ; but that as to themes and treatment
it has not yet taken its final form. Public affairs
now engross all attention, but this will not always
be so, and there will come a time of peace when
literature and art, the children of peace, will resume
their sway.

BEHIND THE SCENES.
Mrs. Elizabeth Keckley has, we will not say
written, but published, a book, " Behind the Scones,"
which-professes to give conversations and events which
took place at the White House, when the Presidential
mansion was occupied by Abraham Lincoln. The re-
pated author states that she was " 30 years a slave and
five years modiste, and friend of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln."

That lady considered her modiste's presence no barrier
to

the freest intercourse with her husband, and it is by the

narration of such conversatio❑ and scenes that this email

cipated slaw endeavours to scrape up a few vile dollars.
But even a Keckley can vaguely perceive that she violates
the sanctity of life in thus availing herself of her intimacy
to publish incidents of a strictly private character, and
she feebly attempts iu her preface to justify the outrage.
Had Mrs. Lincoln not made herself notorious, such a work
would not hove obtained circulation, but through that
lad.'s imprudence her modiste has had the oppor-

tunity of selling a considerable amount of trash, and
interspersed many curious scenes which aro described.
It was customary for the President to select a lady for a
promenade, and his wife chose her escort from among the
gentlemen that surrounded Ler, a habit which Mrs. Lin-
coln, who is a rigid stickler for etiquette, broke through,
as Mrs. heckle y thus describes: -" Lizabeth !'—l was
sewing iu her room, and she was seated in a comfortable
arm chair—" Lizabeth, I Lave been thinking- over a little
matter. As you are well aware, the President, at every
reception, selects a lady to lead tie promenade with him.

Now it occurs to m© that this custom 13 an absurd one,

Ou such occasions our guests recognize the position of the
President as first of all ; consequently, he takes the lead
in everything. Well, now, if they recognize his posi-
tion they should also recognize mine. I am his wife,
and should lead with him. And yet he offers his arm to
any other lady in the room, making her first with him and
placing me second. The custom is an absurd one, and I
mean to abolish it. The dignity that I owe to my position,
as Mrs. President, demands that I should not hesitate any
longer to act." Mrs. Lincoln kept her word. Ever
after this she either led the promenade with the
President., or the President walked alone or with
a gentleman. The change was much remarked,
but the reason why it was made, I believe,
was never generally known. The following throws some
light ou the strange conduct of Mrs. Lincoln, which not
long ago so annoyed and surprised the people. " She
bought the most expensive goods on credit, and in the
summer of 1864 enormous unpaid bills stared her in the
face." She grew very anxious about the election, and had
frequent consultations with" Lizabeth," as she familiarly
called her dressmaker, in regard to political prospects.
"Lizabeth" cheered her with good words, for which Mrs.
Lincoln was very grateful :—" Your view is a plausible
one,-Lizabeth, and your confidence gives me new hope. If
he should 'le defeated, I do not know what would become
of us all. To me, to him, there is more at stadia' in this
election than he dreams of." " What can you mean, Mrs.
Lincoln ? Ido not comprehend." " Simply this. I have
contracted largo debts, of which he knows nothing,
and which he will be unable to pay if he is de-
feated." " What are your debts, Mrs. Lincoln ?" They
consist chiefly of store bills. I owe altogether about
627,000—the principal portion at Stewart's, in New
York. You understand, Lizabeth, that Mr. Lincoln has
but little idea of the expense of a woman's wardrobe. He
glances at my rich dresses, and is happy in the belief that
the few hundred dollars I obtain from him supply all my
wants. I must dress in costly materials. The people
scrutinize every article that I wear with critical curiosity.
The very fact of having grown up in the West subjects
me to more searching observation. To keep up appear-
ances I must have money—more than Mr. Lincoln can spare
for me. He is too honest to make a penny outside his
salary; consequently I had, and still have, no alternative
but to run in debt." "And Mr. Lincoln does not even
suspect how much you owe ?" "God, no !"—this was a
favourite expression of hers, "and I would not have him
suspect. If he knew that his wife was involved to the
extent that she is the knowledge would drive him mad.
Ho is so sincere and straightforward himself that he is
shocked by the duplicity of others. He does not know a
thing about any debts, and I value his happiness, not to
speak of my own, too much to allow him to know any-
thing. This is what troubles me so much. If he is re-
elected, I can keep him in ignorance of my affairs; but if
he is defeated, then the bills will be sent in, and he will
know all ;" and something like a hysterical sob escaped
her. Mrs. Lincoln sometimes feared that the politicians
would got hold of the particulars of her debts, and use
them in the Presidential campaign against her husband ;
and when this thought occurred to her, she was almost
crazy with anxiety and fear. When in ono of these ex-
cited moods she would fiercely exclaim :—" Tte Republi-
can politicians must pay my debts. Hundreds of them are
getting immensely rich off the patronage of my husband,
and it is but fair that they should help me out of my
embarrassment. I will make a demand of them, and
when I tell them the facts they cannot refuse to
advance whatever money 1 require." The descrip•
tlon of prominent men is a:nosing, and semetirnes
true. Mrs. Lincoln hated Chase ; selfish was the
word she always used with reference to that great lawyer,
whom Mrs. Stanton says is as "cold as a clam ;" but not-
withstanding, the President continued to confide in Mr.
Chase till the time of his tragic death. Mrs. Lincoln was
especially severe on Seward, always having an unkind
word to say of him. "lie cannot be trusted ;he has no
principle." When the President answered, " You say the
same of Chase ; I would soon be without a Cabinet if 1
listened to you." "He is worse them Chase," she replied ;
"you will generally find it a safe rule to distrust a disap-
pointed, ambitious politician. It makes me mad to see you
sit still and lot that hypocrite, Seward, twine you around
his finger as if you wore a skein of thread." The lady
prided herself on her reading of character, and she had no
patience with the frank, confiding nature of the President.
When Andrew Johnson was urged for Military Governor
of Tennessee, Mrs. Lincoln bitterly opposed the appoint-
ment. "He is a demagogue," she said, almost fiercely;
"and if you place him in power, Mr. Lincoln,
mark my words, you will rue it some day." Mrs.
Lincoln could not tolerate General Grant. "lie
is a bother," she would often say, " and is not fit to bo at