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soil, and has so matted over it, and so fibred through it, as to have become a part of it; at least there is no telling which is the grass and which the soil; and certainly it is useless labor to try to root it out. You may destroy the soil, but you can't root out the grass.
Patriotism with the Virginian is a noun personal. It is the Virginian himself and something over. He loves Virginia per se and propter se: he loves her for herself and for himself-because she is Virginia, and everything else beside. He loves to talk about her : out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. It makes no odds where he goes, he carries Virginia with him; not in the entirety aiways—but the little spot he comes from is Virginia-as Swedenborg says the smallest part of the brain is an abridgment of all of it. " Cælum non animum mutant qui trans
runt,” was made for a Virginian. He never gets acclimated elsewhere; he never loses citizenship to the old Home. The right of expatriation is a pure abstraction to him. He may breathe in Alabama, but he lives in Virginia. His treasure is there and his heart also. If he looks at the Delta of the Mississippi, it reminds him of James River “low grounds ;” if he sees the vast prairies of Texas, it is a memorial of the meadows of the Valley Richmond is the centre of attraction, the dépôt of all that is grand, great, good, and glorious. “It is the Kentucky of a place,” which the preacher described Heaven to be to the Kentucky congregation.
Those who came many years ago from the borough towns, especially from the vicinity of Williamsburg, exceed, in at. tachment to their birthplace, if possible, the émigrés from the metropolis. It is refreshing in these coster-monger times, to hear them speak of it ;—they remember it when the old burg was the seat of fashion, taste, refinement, hospitality, wealth, wit, and all social graces : when genius threw its spell over the public assemblages and illumined the halls of justice, and when beauty brightened the social hour with her unmatched and matchless brilliancy.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON STEPHENS.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON STEPHENS was born near Crawfordville, Georgia, and received an early and excellent education in his father's private school and at the University of Georgia. The cost of his tuition here was advanced by some friends, and he repaid it as soon as he began to earn money. He taught for a year in the family of Dr. Le Conte, father of the distinguished scientists, John and Joseph Le Conte, now of the University of California.
He pursued his law studies alone and passed an unusually brilliant examination. He was elected to the State Legislature in 1836, and to Congress in 1843, where he served until 1858. He then retired to country life at his home, “Liberty Hall.” But in 1861 he was elected Vice-President of the Confederate States. After the war he was made prisoner and confined for some months at Fort Warren near Boston. He spent several years in literary work and established a newspaper at Atlanta, called the “Sun.”
He was of small stature and delicate health, and met with one or two severe accidents. His career is a wonderful illustration of the power of the mind over the body. An amusing incident is told of him in regard to his size. He was attending a political convention in Charleston as one of the chief delegates; and one evening, with several other prominent men, he was on the porch of the hotel lying on a bench, talking with his companions who were standing about him. The hotel-keeper coming out saw the gentlemen standing, and bustling up, said, “Get up, my son, and let these gentlemen be seated.” Mr. Stephens at once arose and his friends burst out laughing; they explained the situation to the hotel-keeper who was profuse in his apologies.
An instance of his remarkable bravery is the affair with Judge Cone. This gentleman considered himself insulted by a remark of Mr. Stephens and demanded a retraction. After accepting an explanation, he still insisted on a retraction, and Mr. Stephens refused to make it. Judge Cone, a tall and powerful man, then drew a knife on him and holding him down on the floor, cried out, “Retract, or I'll cut you to pieces." “ Never!” answered Stephens, “cut!” and caught the descending knife in his right hand. Friends interposed ; Judge Cone apologized, and they afterwards became reconciled.
Mr. Stephens was elected to the United States Senate, 1874 and 1876: he was governor of Georgia when he died. See his Life by R. M. Johnston and W. H. Browne.
War between the States.
History of the United States.
LAWS OF GOVERNMENT.
(From History of the United States.*) The chief end of all States, or the “ Esprit des Lois," as Montesquieu maintains, should be the security to each member of the community of all “those absolute rights which are vested in them by the immutable laws of nature.” * By permission of the National Publishing Co., Philadelphia.
Many writers maintain that the individuals upon entering into society, give up or surrender a portion of their natural rights. This seems to be a manifest error. No person has any natural right whatever to hurt or injure another. The object of society and government is to prevent and redress injuries of this sort; for, in a state of nature, without a restraining power of government, the strong would viciously impose upon the weak.
Another erroneous dogma pretty generally taught is, that the object of governments should be to confer the greatest benefit upon
the greatest number of its constituent members. The true doctrine is, the object should be to confer the greatest possible good upon every member, without any detriment or injury to a single one.
SKETCH IN THE SENATE, FEB. 5, 1850.
(From Johnston and Browne's Life of Stephens.*) Millard Fillmore, occupying the conspicuous seat erected for the second officer of the Government. His countenance is open and bland, his chest full. is bright, blue, and intelligent; his hair thick and slightly gray. His personal appearance is striking; and no one can look at him without feeling conscious that he is a man far above the average.
On his right, near the aisle leading to the front door, sits Cass with hands folded in his lap
; his sleepy-looking eyes occasionally glancing at the galleries, and then at the crowd pressing in below. Benton sits in his well-known place, leaning back in his chair, and giving all who desire it a full view of his person. One vacant seat is seen not far off on the same side of the House. A vacant seat in such a crowd excites the attention of all. " Whose seat is that?”
goes in whispers around, * By permission of authors, and publishers, J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia.