The Portland daily press., 1872-02-27
THE PRESS.
TUESDAY MORNING, FEB. s7, 1879.


meath this marble, in the TRANQUIL hope of a
joyful resurrection, repose the remains of
Iago, who kept the noiseless tenor of his
way. Beyond sleeps Solomon, most faithful
of husbands; and under this turf of butter
cups and daisies lie Paris and Lovelaee ar
cades amb0, too early lost. IT'S pathetic to
reflect how much worthier is the world un-
derground than that which still cumbers its
surface; and if we, whose lives are Indifferent
honest, had only the good fortune to die
century ago, our memories would by this
time have been upon our tombstones a very
odor Of sanctity to the sense of the age which
knows us, perhaps, but too well
In one of his terrible inscriptions suggested
for the monuments of the Georges, Thacke- /
ray says, 'He left an example for youth and
for age to avoid. He never did well by man
or by woman" Has there been only one
such George in the world? And if more, and
In every age, in what cemetery have you
found their epitaphs? Catalne was a fasci-
mating and accomplished man. He had many
followers, and il his political views and pro-
jects were open to differences of opinion, he
was certainly well-mannered. Has there
been but one Cataline in history? Or is he
confined wholly to public sphere? Cicero
described him as "a cOrrupter of YOUTH" and
no one has denied it. Where is Cataline bur
led? II you sought his grave by that epitaph,
although his name were Legion, where would
you find it? Is there no corrupter of youth
now? Have there been none within the last
century? None, if you may trust the epi-
-taphs. How long will you abuse our patience,
Cataline, and be annually buried, like Cato
the Censor, with crosses of white camelias
laid upon your coffin, and wreaths of immor-
telles hung upon the weeping effigy of Virtue
which guards your sleep?
But if man were brutal and coarse and
cruel in his life, must we needs insist upon it
when he is gone? When Ma,ouorm leaves
us, must we write upon his grave, he lying
below defenseless, "Hic jdcet a hypocrite ?"
When old Sathanas departs to sphere of
light and truth, shall we carve upon his mon
ument, "Father of lies? % Is it manly? Shall
we have no mercy? Do we really know any
man; and shall charity be forgotten? To be
human is to be frail; and is not the fact that
we must die at all, of which the grave is proof,
itself sufficient comment upon our weakness?
Here lies Col. Newcome-tender, generous,
child-like heart! Shall we add that he was
credulous and ignorant? Dear Uncle Toby
is in the next grave. Shall we shout in mar
Bile, "siste. utdtor, contemplate his foibles ?''
Sacred to the memory of Samuel Pickwick
Is the inscription incomplete if we do not
ehisel beneath it, "a wind-bag pricked by
Death ?" - e, y, ,,,,,s.,tk - ,..,~r :
But epitaphs are written more forcibly than
upon tombstones. When old Silenus dies,
and the white camelias and the lilies of the
valley and the rose-buds are strewn upon his
bier, and the universally lamented" is cut
upon the monument, the satire is pathetic,
but it is slight. But when the bloated old de-
bauchee is cautiously and forgivingly praised
in the papers, and everybody solemnly pre-
tends not to know what everybody. knows
that everybody else does know, It is a sign not
ofcharity, but of public Generalization. Cat
aline corrupts youth by his example. Then
his own offenses bring him to sudden end,
and the newspapers speak of him so deprecat-
ingly, SO gingerly, that as good man being
dead yet speaketh, so bad man being dead
yet corrupteth. His evil influence is not suf-
fered to perish With him, but it is cherished
and extended and confirmed, and his death,
like his life, demoralizes
Dick Turpin no longer rides in jack-boots
upon Hounslow Heath, stopping my Lord
Bishop and the Right Honorable the Earl of
Garter, and no longer stands at the dock, the
hero OF St Giles; and goes no longer to the
gallows in blaze OF glory, with huge nose
gay in his button-hole. Richard Turpin is a
very different fellow now in his costume of
to-day, but lie is the same Dick of the Jack
boots and tLt heath, the vulgar robber who
smirks and is called smart. He drives fine
equipage, and lives luxuriously, and keeps
harem, and frequents Wall street, and beats
everybody in the game of making money,
and spends it profusely and splendidly. He
dazzles the eyes of the widows son, and be-
wilders his mind. The boy sees the money
with which Richard surrounds himself by
means which honorable men despise He
hears him called good-humoredly great ras-
cal, and sees that he buys Judges, and steals
vast properties, and procures laws to protect
him, and the boy hears that all men are falli-
Bile, and that some men are no worse than
other men, and that money is a fine thing,
and honor and truth and respect and all the
rest OF it are very well, but see what power,
what pleasure, what luxury Turpin COM
| mands! Then the poor boy rushes for the same
| prizes, and ends in disgrace, the JAIL suicide.
| And Dick Turpin tOsses hundred dollars to
the boys mother, and generous press ex-
| claims, "Not model man, perhaps; but
what noble generosity! The friend of the
| widow and the orphani When he dies, how
many poor homes will be darkened with
| griefP' Indeed! and does the hundred dol
lars pay the widow for her boy?
Dick Turpin is airy and gay, but he Is a
corrupter of youth. 1t is not difficult to be
generous with the money of others. A year
ago it was announced that Greed had given
| $4,000 or $4,000 to the poor. ''There,"
said the admirers of Turpin, ''you may say
what you will of Greed. He, too, is not a
| polished man; he is not a scholar nor
dainty gentleman; but he is one Of the peo-
| pie; he is large-hearted and generous. Who
else has given $780, 900 to the poor?" Yes, and
who else has stolen $4,000, ,00O9 The politest
| gentlemen of the highway were notoriously
| gallant. The Marquis GOutytoe they COM
| PEELED to descend from his carriage, and sent
the trudging market woman home in it. They
eased the pockets of the Spanish ambassa-
dor, and threw doubloon to the leper hiding
behind the hedge. 1t was cheap munif-
cence. So was Greeds. 1t was not his
| $4,000, the giving OF which caused such a
| burst of good feeling, and the exclamation,
'There, nowW 1t was only little of the
millions that were not his. He gave it to the
| poor dwellers in tenement houses, and it was
| said that there was no wretched hovel to
which he did not send load of coal or a
barrel of -four during the winter months.
But he took them first from those wretched
dens. Somebody paid the taxes that he stole,
and it is the poor who at last pay taxes.
Where be the bad people buried? When
Turpin dies, we have Greed's opinion of him
and his ways gravely paraded in newspaper.
Nine. Brinvillers' opinion of Lucrezia Bor-
gia would be edifying readngl
Shall we have no charity, then? and when
man lies dead and defenceless, shall not
warfare cease? Warfare may cease; but
should death condone all offences? The ma
lignant lover who denounced his rival to the
inquisition, and who, in the very moment of
his rivals death by fire, himself fell dead
shall we write over him De mortuisS Shall
we Romans, whose sons he corrupted, 60
dumb and sorrowing behind the corpse of
Catiline? When a bad man dies, let us say
that he was bad. Although he was very
rich and very splendid, shall we remember
only that he gave in charity one quarter of
one per cent upon the amount of his thefts /?
The Italian brigand chief, when his band had
slaughtered the travellers, said, ''There are
twelve of us, and we will share equally: but
the first equal share shall be for the Mother
OF God'' When we tell his story, shall we
see only that share? The last year has
preached hundred homilies on the text that
money may be bought much too dearly, and
to screen that truth under the gnise of not
warrinp un0p ha daad 10 frosa aop IN Duhlic