Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1886-10-02


right Of eminent fitness and efficiency; his
hair brushed straight from brow and temples
backward tow ards the crown, and powdered;
and, with an instinct that u was concerned IN
expressing him, whenever he stood In the
open air, his hat was lifted or removed often
enough to give Il all its proper eiiec. In the
impression OF his presence His waistcoat
was invariably a dark crimson, aud bis
standing coat collar lined with scarlet His
6ne large face was always cleanly shaved,
and he wore a bosom frill elegantly negligent,
Just as painter would set superb head in a
wreath of clouds.
1t was not his dress that he psrsded /; II was
as much as dress could do to match his mlen
and movement; and crimson, powder ana
rufiies, were tame enough TO seem modest
and unobtrusive in his service. His hat was
large with liberal breadth of brim, turned up
behind 10 accommodate the erect collar, and
deepen the pitch OF the point which sheltered
the brow, and repeated and impressed the
curve and dip of his fine squiline nose His
foot and hand varied the effect of his personal
beauty, by their more delicate elegance; and
his boots, crimped and tasselled, received the
length of limbs and liehtened his too impos-
ing grandeur, as rbyming syllables reduce
aud soften the stride of verse
He walked with his head little forward
Of the perpendicular, as is usual with men
whose frontal brain is active, and always
with the pleased engagedness of expression
in his countenance which makes man
happy in speaking to others who are as
happy in hearing him. No eye ever caught
him weary, listless or vacant; he took no
holidays, nor even knew those remissions OF
engagement which ordinary people indulge
in at the beginnings and hnishings of their
undertakings He was always full employed
and equally intent and the spring in him
was not only strong enough for work but it
was easy enough Tor play while the tide ran
like cataract the surface rippled and
spsrkled with humor-the sunshine in DALI
ance with the spray-the storm tones raretied
l into music. His temper WAS sharp and higb,
| but steady. As 1t never fell into feebleness
| so it never rose into rage; the pcrcizely and
ptRe-blank tone of feeling, ever present, kept
l him too well balanced for that EXtravsg.
/ auce, by other mems measure OF sentiment
/ and action, WAS common enough with him,
i but he was never hurried into the trepids-
ton OF an angry psroxysm,
1t is the temperament of such man, more
| than any thing else that determines his char
| acter. BY temperament mean a condition
| of the physical organization, make oi
/ muscle, nerve and bloodvesssls, and man
| ner and proportion in their combination.
/ The terms of art used to distinguish and de-
/ scribe these differences and their effects are
/ not exact or adequate, but think the words
l tonic and sanguine answer best to his
strength and iavor-the vigor with the glow
the trenchant diamond and its brillisncy; fol
| all the flash about him was the outleaping o
steady fire. Every faculty within hin
| seemed hung upon coiled springs answering
| with electric quickness TO its proper excitant
| This man was uneducated as we phrase It
He owed nothing but reading and writing in
| his mother tongue, and simple arithmetic tC
i the schools. He was not deeply read in his
tory, civil policy, law or general literature
he knew no art or science as a system but
| he was none the less equal to any emergency
/ in affairs or any demand for spec ulativt
thinking in matters OF life and business. Hi:
instincts were 50 large and true, his feelings
| 80 sound and earnest, and all his aim so JUS
l and generous that he always found the truth
and right by sympathy with their sentiment
| and was ever sure of the required inspiration
4 at the moment of his need. Such, indeed
| were his native strength and readiness at al
| points that it is safe to scy that, in a repre-
/ sentative career OF forty years in the state
and national legislatures, and the incident
| contact with the pivot men OF politics, the
| general was never nonplussed by his detects
| of education. The nice taste of fashionable
| people was often shocked by his uncultured
| strength and rugged style OF utterance.
| Nothing was more common in the village
| than clusters Of boyme in high merrlmen'
/ over his Irregularities like so many flies
| alter a Ticn least, busy with the broken
victuals but it was only in his absence that
the buzZing and blowing happened; his
| presence, somehow, always held so large a
balance Of force against the sharpness OF the
| Writings, that the hunting never began till
| the lion had left the field.
| Probably not one man In a hundred can
| learn to write his own name spell February,
| or TO hit the cases OF the personal pronouns,
| after forty years OF age. The general suffered
| something by his lack OF formal training In
| his youth, which ear-marked his style d
speech and omposition while he lived. An
| amusing instance will illustrate slight
| defect OF this sort, and his mastery skill in
| extricating himself which never deserted
| him in any such exigency.
Immediately after Madison's second elec
tlon, the general called upon Governor
Findlay then holding the Office of state
| treasurer, with the manuscript of a LONG
letter which he had written to the presiden
| covering the whole gound of our foreign anG
| domestic policy, and especially the principles
| and measures OF the Democratic party. Mr.
FIindlay heard it with not little admiration
| OF Its merits, both as to matter and manner
| but glancing at the paper, he observed tina
| the general nad in some hundred instances
| written the pronoun in little with pOI
| over it; and sincerely desiring to reform Il
| for the writer's sake, and for the effect that Il
| ought to have, but impressed also with his
| sensitiveness to criticism which in any way
| impeached his capabilities, he coaxingly sug
| gested the much desired correction after thi:
| fashion:
can excellent letter, general. ! sound
| letter, sir; full of most capital advice, which
Mr.. Madison will be glad and proud to re-
| ceive, and thoroughly Democratic in every
| sentiment A letter, general that any man
| might be proud TO write. Views sir, tha
l Will Hldhe tns ditnlnlstrauOn equal 10 JeU
| erson's If they are fully adopted. But, gen
| eral, they have a court custom at Washington
| small matter, such as you and are not ap
| to treat with much consideration-an indit
ierent little piece of etiquette-a-" Here
| Mr.. findlay began 10 stammer. The gen
| erals keen eye was on him, and he felt it.
| " "PercIzely what is it?'
| "Oh, nothing" looking over the psper a.
II it were hard TO find. "Nothing at ali, and
yet 1t would bs easily altered. A stroke o
| the pen here and there, merely"
| Pine blank, said the general, "whst is
| 1t, Mr.. Findlsy?'
| "Why, general, ii has become the custom
lately at " ashington, to write the pronoun
with capital letter"
The general was caught, and he knew how
he was caught, too, and he must recover
| himself.
"PerezeIy, Mr.. Findlay; all right. Mos,
| assureuly Il knew - piue-blank you're
| right. No question of it" BY this time he
| was ready. " Look here, my dear sir" Law.
isg his hand on Mr.. Findlay's shoulder, as
| ii TO reassure him, for the embarrassment
was all on the one side now. "You sse nv
| dear fellow, had a design in 1t. When /
| write to a small pattern of a man, / make nv
capital rs two inches long when 1 write Ia
my equal felIow-citizens, such as yourself
Tor instance, make them the usual length
but, sir, when address myself to as great a
man as Mr.. Madison or Mr.. Jefferson / al.
ways make them as small as possible with q
pop over them, percizely."
need hardly say that the general walked
straight 10 his room, and raised every letter
OF them TO the dignity required by the rules
OF grammar, and the etiquette OF Washing.
ten city, before be dispatched the epistle
AND there was matter IN him as we'll aS