Weekly Trinity journal., 1878-12-21
NOT ONE FRIEND IN ALL
AMERICA.


There was day when Taleyrand
arrived in Havre, in great haste from
Paris. 1t was the darkest hour OF the
French revolution. Pursued by the
blsodhUunds of the Reign of Terror,
stripped of every wreck OF property or
power, Talleyrsnd secured passage to
America in ship about to sail. He was
going q beggar and wanderer to
strange land, to earn his bread by his
daily labor.
us there an American staying at your
house ?" he asked the landlord of his
hotel. II am bound to cross the water,
and would like letter to some person of
influence in the New World ?"
The landlord hesitsted a moment, and
then replied
There is gentleman upstairs, either
from America or Britain but whether
an American or Englishma. 1 cannst
tell"
He pointed the way, and Taleyrand,
who in early life was bishop, prince, and
afterwards prime minister, assembled
the stairs. A miserable suppliant, he
stood before the strangers door, Knocked
and entered.
In the far corner OF the dimly lighted
room sat gentleman Of some fifty years,
fOl nj
his breast. From window directly op-
posite food Of light poured over his
forehead. His eyes, looking from beneath
the downcast brows, gazed in Talleyrand's
face with peculiar and searching ex-
preston. His face was striking in its
outline, the mouth and chin indicative Of
an iron will. His form vigorous, even
with tho SHOWS of fifty winters. was clad
in dark, but rich and distinguished cos
tune.
Talleyrand advanced, stated that he
was fugitive, and under the impression
that the gentleman before him was an
American, he solicited his kind feelings
and offices, pouring forth his history in
eloquent French and broken English.
II am a wanderer-an exile ! l am
forced to fly to the New World, without
friend or hope. You are an American.
Give me, beseech you, letter Of you're,
so that l may be able to earn my bread.
| am willing to toll in any manner the
scenes OF Paris have filed me with such
horrors, that a life of labor would be
paradise to a career of luxury in France.
You will give me letter to one Of your
friends. A gentleman like you has doubt
less many friends"
The strange gentleman rose. With a
look that Taleyrand never forgot, he re-
treated towards the door of the next
chamber, his head still downcast, his eyes
looking still from behind his darkened
brow. He spoke as he retreated back
wards-his voice was full of meaning.
II am the snly man borE in the New
World who can raise his hand 70 God
and say, have net friend, not ons, in
all America ~
Talleyrand never forgot the ever
wholming sadness of the look that ac-
companied these words.
"Who are you ?" he cried, as the
strange gentleman retreated towards the
next room. "Your name p
my name !" with smile that had
more Of mockery than joy in its convul-
sive expressien-"My name 10 Benedict
Arnold I"
He was gone. Tallcyrsnd sank in a
chair, gaspng the words
ARNOLD, the Traitor one who has
betrayed his country"
Thus Arnold wandered over the earth,
another Cain, with wanderers mark on
his brow. Even in the secluded room, at
that inn Of Havre, his crime found him
out, and forced him to tell his name-that
name the synonym of infamy.
The last twelve years of Arnolds life
were covered with cloud from whose
darkness but few CLEANS OF light fash
out upon the page Of history.