The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1874-10-09

!
ing works Of fiction will remember the
circumstances attending the storming Of
the Castle Of Torquilstone by the Black
knight and Robin Hood, and his follow
ers, as recorded In Ivanhoc. When Sir
Brian Bois De-Gilbert was making his
escape from the burning Castle, carrying
away the captive daughter Of Isaac Of
York, he was intercepted by Sir Athel-
stane, the last Of Saxon royalty, who with
quarter-staG in hand, challenged the
redoubtaby mail-clad Templar to mortal
combat. Sir Brian had only to swing out
his good broad sword, and with single
downward sweep, Sir Athelstane was
cleft to the chin, and the last drop Of
royal Saxon blood was spilled.
The author then depicts, in the livelicst
manner possible, the funeral ceremonies
and dole-ths grief Of Cedric and Sir
Athelstanc's mother and all the Saxon
ffanklins, gentry, squires and yoemen.
Suddenly Sir Athelstane appears in their
midst, swathed in his grave clothes,
swearing and breathing out death on ac-
count of his three days fast and calling
for "wine and flesh and goodly cheer"
as Earl Doorm was wont to say when he
came home from country side foray.
Not only we're the Black Knight, Wilfred
Of IvaRhoe and all the rest Of them sur
prised at the sudden appearance of the
Saxon heir apparent, but the more mod
ern readers of Sir Walter, told him plump
and plainly that the sudden restoration
of Sir Athelstane to life after De-Gilbert
had bisected his head, was piece Of yio-
lence for which even writers Of fiction
had no legitimate license.
Sir Walter, however, gave very
plausible explanation to his friends. He
admitted that Sir Athelstanc was dead,
and that he had intended to bury him
with the most imposing pomp, but his
(Sir Walter's) printer was Saxon and
could not bear the idea that the last royal
blood should perish at the hand c. Nor
man free lance. In short he refused to
print Ivanhoe, unless Athelstane was re-
stored TO life. Nothing remained but to
resurrect Sir Athelstane as quickly and as
plausibly as possible. The Radical lead
ers are the exact counterpart of the
novelist's Saxon printer. Although the
late rebellion is as dead as a door nail,
Morton 4 Co., refuse to part with their
prince of the blood, and insist that he is
still in the flesh.
The Southern outrages" which now
food the political market, have about as
much real life in their carcass, as the
Saxon prince possessed three days after
his head was cleft to the chin by the
Templar. Every year as the elections
approach, this miserable skeleton is
dragged from its charnel house, and
dressed up in bloody garments to frighten
the people, and induce them to continue
the lease in power of the Radical thieves
who are elbow deep in the National
Treasury or plunder States and munich
palities through the manipulations
Of corrupt Rings, such as We have
in Washington, Philadelphia, Harrisburg
and Pittsburg.
II is about time that this mummcry
should cease? With one breath the
Radical platform-makers proclaim that
they have restored the Union, and given
peace and tranquility to the whole coun
try, and with the next declare that the
South is in a state of war, putting thel'
ridiculous contradictions in actual con
duct. As long as the people listen tothe
howls of demagogeslike Morton, Cameron
and their colaborers, instead Of looking
to their own interests by electing honest
men to Offices Of trust and responsibility
Just that long that they may expect to
he robbed, plundered and oppressed.