The western Democrat. [volume] (Charlotte, N.C.) 1852-1870, 1865-03-21
STEPHEN GIRARD.

Various sketches Of his life have been given to the
pubic, but the following, frem the North American
REVIEW for January, is more discriminating in its
character, and presents tolerably accurate pic
ture of the man and his mental and social pecu-
liarhes:
"Within the memory of many persons still alive,
od Girard,' as the famous banker was usually
styled, short, stout, brisk old gentleman, used 20
walk, in his swift, awkward way the streets of the
lower part of Philadelphia. Though everything
about him indicated that be had very little in COM
mon with his fellow,citizens, he was the marked
man OF the city for more than generation. His
aspect was rather Insignificant and quite unpre-
possessing His dress was old-fashioned and shah
by; and he wore the pig-tai the white neck cloth,
the wide-brimmed hat, and the large skirted coat
of the last century. He was blind in one eye; and
though his burly eyebrows gave some character to
his countenance, it was curousy devoid of express
sion. lie had also the absent look of man who
either had no thoughts or absorbed in thought;
and he shuffied along on his enormous feet looking
neither to the right nor to the left. There was
always certain look of the old mariner about him,
though be bad been fifty years an inhabitant of
the town. When he rode, it was iu the plainest,
least comfortable gig in Philadelphia, drawn by an
ancient and ILL formed horse, driven always by the
masters own hand at good pace He chose still
to live where he had lived for fifty years, in Water
street, close to the wharves, in small and ncon-
venert house, darkened by tall store houses, amid
the hustle, the noise and the odors of commerce.
"His sole pleasure wasto visit, once day, lit
tie farm which he possessed few miles out of
town, where he won't to take off his coat, roll
up his shirt sleeves, and personally labor in the
held and In the barn, hoeing corn, pruning trees,
tossing hay, and not disdaining even to assist in
butcheriug the animals which he raised for market
1t was no meIe ornamental or experimental farm
He made it pay. All of its produce was carefully,
nay scrupulously, husbanded, sold, recorded and
accounted for. lie loved his grapes, his pIums,
his pigs, and especially his rare breed of canary
birds; but the people of Philadelphia had the full
benefit of their increase-at the highest. market
rates. Many feared and many served, but none
loved this singularly aud lonely old man If there
was, among the very few who habitually conversed
with him, one who understood and esteemed him.
there was but one, and he was a man of such
abounding charity that, like Uncle Toby, if he
bad heard that the Devil was bopelessly damned
would have said, Il am sorry for it, Never was
there person more destitute than Girard of the
qualities which win the affection of others His
temper was violent, his presence forbiddng, his
usual manner ungracious, bis will inhexible, his
heart untender, his imagination dead He was
odious many of his fellow citizens who considered
him the hardest and meanest of men He had
lived among them for half century, but he was
no more Philadelphia in 1880 than he was in
1776. He still spoke with French accent, and
accompanied his words with French shruc and
French gesticulation. Surrounded with Christian
churches, which he had helped 10 build, be re
mained sturdy unbeliever, and possessed the
complete work of only one man-Voltarc.
ale made it point of duty to labor on Sunday,
as good example to others. He made no secret
of the fact that he considered the deness of Sun
dow iniurv tn tho naonle moral and economical
He would have opened his bank on Sunday if any
one would have come to it. For his part, he re-
qured no rest, and would have none. He never
travelled. lie never attended public assemblies or
amusements. He had no affections to crafty, no
friends to visit, no curiosity to appease, tastes
to indulge. What he once said of himself ap.
peared to be true-that he rose in the morning
with but single object, and that was to labor SO
hard all day to be able to sleep all night. The
world was absolutely nothing to him but a working
place. He scorned and secuted the idea that old
men should cease to labor, and should spend the
evening of their days in tranquility. mo, he
would say, labor is the price Of life, its happiness,
its everything; to rest is to rust every should
labor to the last hour of his ability Such was
Stephen Girard.
"This is an unpleasing picture of a citizen Of
polite and amiable Philadelphia. 1t were indeed
a grim and dreary world wherein should prevail tie
principles OF Glrard. But see what this man has
done for the city that loved him not! Vast and
imposing structures rise on the banks of the
Schuylkill wherein, at this hour, six hunared
orphan boys are fed clothed, trained and taught,
upon the income Of the enormous estate which he
won by this entire conservation to the work of ac-
eumulatipg property. In the ample grounds of
Girard College, looking up at its FIVE massive mar
BILE edices, strolIing in its shady walks or by its
verdant play grounds or listening to the cheerful
cries of the boys at play, the most sympathetic and
imaginative of men must pause before censuring
the sterile and unlovely life of its founder And
if he should inquire closely into the character and
career of the man who wiled this great institution
into being, he would, perhaps, be willing to admit
that there was room 10 the. world for one Girard,
though it were pity there should ever be another"
MURDER-We learn that, few days since, at
the house of Mr. Kallum, in Stokes county, mur-
der was committed under the following circum-
stances: ...-...
a Capt Williams and Lieut.. Moore, hailing
from Kentucky recruiting officers were lodging
at Mr kallum's. Late at night the report of a
pistol was heard, which aroused Mr. KS family,
when Lieut. Moore was discovered shot dead in his
bed, Capt Williams stating that the deed was
committed by some person unknown, who came to
the door of the apartment in which they lodged,
and fred pistol, killing the Lieutenant-S Salem
Press.
T.. Al. Al. G., Il: l. g.