The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1898-02-17

General and private who fought and
risked their lives to defend their Gov
ernment should be held aloft as examples
to the lusty youth who must soon take
the helm and guide our Ship of State on
her glorious voyage into the unknown
future. l am daily assailed by nominal
friends at the South with appeals to bury
the hatchet after quarter of a century
of peace. You were with me at Raleigh
and know that went so far in that di-
rection as to receive kicks from both
sides"
DEATH OF THE GENERALS WIFE.
On Nov. %, 1888, Gen. Sherman
lost the devoted partner of his married
life, Ellen Boyle Ewing, who was buried,
at her own request, in St Louis, Mo-, by
the side of her idolized soldier-boy Will
lie, and the infant son whose brief span
of existence did not bridge the interval
of one campaign in the life of his great
father. Gen. Sherman's grief on occas-
ion of this loss was of that intense and
appalling kind which is only seen when
such grand hearts as his are rent almost
to breaking.
His physical depression was such that
an alarming illness followed. A few
months before Mrs. Sherman's death he
had purchased and occupied new house,
No. 70 w. list street, and returning to
this now desolate mansion after the
funeral in St Louis, he gave himself up
to month of profound mourning.
One day one Of his sons found him
sitting, speechless, in his little basement
Office. In response to anxious inquiry
he only pointed to his throat which the
asthma, his lifelong enemy, had almost
completely closed He had not even
taken sufficient heed to summon phy
sician. On another occasion a gust Of
air had extinguished the gas-light in his
office, and he was breathing the poison
Gus vapor without caring TO stir. uncon-
scious or not caring that death hung in
the poisoned air and was stealing upon
him.
The thousands who knew his squickness,
vitality, and energy, will find it hard to
credit this proof of his terrible depression,
but be it remembered that to the highest
mountain-tops correspond the deepest
valleys. Emerging from this great
shock he resumed the round Of social
duties. frequented the Union League
Club, went to the theater, gave dinners
to celebrate his 6tth birthday, and
became, in word, his own CHEEKY, gay,
and pleasure-loving self again.
Nothing WAS too small TO interest
him-the child's letter demanding an
autograph, Or the hanging of q picture
in his Office, the aspect of the goats on
the rugged rocks in front Of this resi-
dence. the arrangement of books in his
library, the receipt Of the most trifIng
present or token Of affection, all we're
noticed; nothing too lofty to be grasped
by him-the most recent Improvements
in scientific instruments, the complica-
tons Of European politics, the huge
social problems Of the day, the most
intricate questions of constitutional and
international law-ali were mastered.
He never made speech or wrote let
ter, Or took part in a conversation with
out saying good thing in his own quick,
natural and good-natured way. In fact,
he developed remarkable power as an
after-dinner speaker, and when asked
the secret of success simply said, "Never
speak long, go straight to the point;
talk, do not make speech; never be
sarcastic"