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JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 A LIFE SKETCH. 
 
 BY BISHOP O. P. FITZGERALD, 
 
 Of the M. E. Church, South. 
 
 Printed for the Author. 
 
 Publishing House of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. 
 
 Bakbee Sc Smith, Agents, Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 iSgi. 
 
^--l^ 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S91, 
 
 By O. p. Fitzgerald, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 /Z-3Z3/Z 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 When, at the request of the surviving members 
 of the immediate family of the late Judge A. B. 
 Longstreet, I consented to undertake the prepara- 
 tion of a memoir of that rare and fascinating ge- 
 nius, I did not know whether I would make of it a 
 monograph or a volume. Accessible material was 
 scant. His contemporaries were nearly all dead. 
 Here and there were persons still laughing over 
 his *' Georgia Scenes," but the man was fast be- 
 coming a tradition. I began the work with the 
 purpose to let it take its own shape, using the ma- 
 terial that came into my hands as Aaron used the 
 golden earrings of the Israelites cast by him into 
 the furnace. The outcome is not a golden calf, 
 but this book. 
 
 To the Hon. L. Q. C. Lamar, of the United 
 States Supreme Court ; Chancellor Edward Mayes, 
 of the University of Mississippi; the Rev. Walter 
 R. Branham, the Rev. Dr. Weyman H. Potter, the 
 Rev. John W. Burke, Hon. Walter B. Hill, and the 
 Rev. Dr. J. T. Wightman I hereby tender sincere 
 thanks for the help they have given me. And to 
 the house of Harper & Brothers, New York, the 
 original pubHshers of the '* Georgia Scenes," I 
 would also express my thanks for special courte- 
 sies gracefully rendered. 
 
 I might justly make a plea for indulgent criti- 
 cism because of unexpected difficulties in the per- 
 
 (3) 
 
4 TO THE READER. 
 
 formance of this labor of love, but the reader cares 
 nothing for these things. I feel sure that one part 
 of the book — the "Appendix" — will be cordially 
 received both by older readers of the '* Georgia 
 Scenes" and the younger generation, many of 
 whom will for the first time get from these pages 
 a taste of their rich humor. 
 
 O. P. Fitzgerald. 
 
 Nashville, June, 1891. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Started in the World 9 
 
 The Boy - H 
 
 At School in South Carolina 21 
 
 In New England 26 
 
 The Bench, the Bar, and the Hustings 32 
 
 The Unwritten Chapter 41 
 
 A Change of Heart 50 
 
 Longstreet the Preacher • 57 
 
 As AN Educator • 7^ 
 
 Longstreet the Humorist. 88 
 
 Rumblings of the Coming Storm 95 
 
 A Tilt with Dr. Winans '. . . 109 
 
 The Bursting of the Storm 128 
 
 A Touch of Polemics 136 
 
 J udge Longstreet's Writings 164 
 
 Traits 169 
 
 Added Touches 182 
 
 The End 190 
 
 Some Old Letters 193 
 
 Note 208 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 GEORGIA SCENES, NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Darby Anvil 211 
 
 Ned Brace 242 
 
 The Debating Society 270 
 
 The Song 285 
 
 The Shooting-match 296 
 
 (5) 
 
:^^. 
 
 't/i' 
 
 h 
 
"/ have observed in several of my papers that my friend^ 
 Sir Roger ^ amidst all his good qualities^ is something of 
 an humorist ; and that his virtues^ as xvell as imperfections^ 
 are as it ivere tinged by a certain extravagance, which makes 
 them particularly his, and distinguishes them from those of 
 other men. The cast of his mind, as it is generally very 
 innocetit in itself, so it renders his conversation highly 
 agreeable, and more delightful than the same degree of sense 
 and virtue %vould appear in their common and ordinary 
 colors^ — The Spectator. 
 
 (7) 
 
JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 STARTED IN THE WORLD. 
 
 T 
 
 HE boy whose life is sketched in these pages 
 weighed seventeen pounds the day he was 
 born, September 22, 1790. That was making a 
 good start in the world, and a good start is more 
 likely to make a good ending than a bad one. The 
 popular saying to the contrary applies rather to the 
 exceptions than the rule. Free-will, rightly used 
 under God, may redeem a life that seems hopeless 
 at the start; misused, it may lose the prize that 
 seems to be sure. Heredity is a mighty factor in 
 human life, but it bends to that higher law^ by 
 which a shining upward path opens to the right 
 exercise of volition in every moral agent. There 
 is hope for the lowliest, and there is danger for 
 the highest. 
 
 Quality, not size only, measures force. Back 
 of bone and tissue there is something else. The 
 most potent factors in working out the issues of 
 life are not visible to the phrenologist or chemist. 
 The facts of human existence admit of no rational 
 explanation contrary to the declaration of the de- 
 vout Arabian who four thousand years ago wrote 
 the words: " There is a spirit in man, and the in- 
 spiration of the Almighty giveth understanding." 
 
 (9) 
 
lO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 The weight and stature of men depend upon en- 
 vironment as well as pedigree. On the sandy soil 
 of the lowlands men do not grow as tall as on the 
 red hills of the up-country. The hill country of 
 Georgia has been prolific of great men. The ex- 
 planation may be found in their open-air life, the 
 plentifulness and richness of the fruits of the earth, 
 the free intercourse between the different classes 
 of the people in a rural and patriarchal society, 
 and the abundant leisure enjoyed by a generation 
 that were fortunate enough to have lived before 
 the age of cheap printing had done so much to 
 make cheap men. The books they read were by 
 the great masters in philosophy, polite literature, 
 and political economy. They had a way of sub- 
 jecting all current questions of public policy to the 
 test of certain great fundamental principles rather 
 than to the demands of an .expediency that looks 
 only to transient success. They were broad and 
 liberal. Among them were men whose eloquence, 
 though polished by classical culture, exhibited the 
 untamed freedom of their class and their time, and 
 glowed with the passion that kindled so quickly 
 within their fiery spirits. These men gained dis- 
 tinction on every battle-field on which American 
 valor has achieved renown, and won recognition 
 in every contest in which American intellect has 
 wrestled for the prizes of civic or professional suc- 
 cess. 
 
 Longstreet is an old Dutch name, but has an 
 honest old English sound. The Langestraats first 
 came to America about 1657. When they first 
 came into notice in New Jersey, they were known 
 
STARTED IN THE WORLD. n 
 
 as ingenious, energetic, reputable people. The 
 mother of the subject of this sketch was a de- 
 scendant of Edmond Fitz-Randolph. She had 
 blue Norman blood in her veins, and could trace 
 her New England pedigree back to 1607. These 
 two life-streams — the sturdy Dutch and the viva- 
 cious, high-spirited Norman — mingled in the blood 
 of the boy. A many-sided man — strong and brill- 
 iant, courageous and courtly, humorous and de- 
 vout — was the product. 
 
 Of William Longstreet, the father, it is said that 
 he anticipated Fulton in the use of steam as a mo- 
 tor. The inquisitive mind of the son, that led him, 
 as far as possible, to intermeddle with all knowl- 
 edge, was a legitimate paternal inheritance. 
 
 Of the mother, our knowledge is meager. Like 
 that other Hannah, whose ante-natal prayer found 
 gracious answer in the career of the illustrious son 
 God gave her, when the final record is read it 
 will doubtless be found that from Hannah Loner- 
 street the boy received his richest inheritance of 
 physical and moral tendency and capability. The 
 rule is that great men have great mothers. When 
 a family flowers into greatness on the male side, 
 nature usually takes a rest, except in cases in which 
 a specially grand motherhood infuses an element 
 of fresh vigor into the line. 
 
 Transplanted to Georgia soil, the family was 
 quickly naturalized, becoming Georgians among 
 Georgians, and producing in the subject of these 
 chapters perhaps the most typical Georgian that 
 ever made a speech, preached a sermon, told an 
 anecdote, or waged a controversial warfare. 
 
12 JUDGE LONGS TREBT. 
 
 '* Longstreet, the Typical Georgian," was thought 
 of as the proper title for this sketch. He was a 
 Georgian all over, all through, and all the time. 
 He was the father of its humorists, a peculiar kind, 
 unlike any other. He impressed his political opin- 
 ions upon the youth who were destined to shape 
 the future policy of the State. He was one, and 
 not the least, of a class of great preachers whose 
 genius and piety have left upon its people an im- 
 press as lasting as eternity. He was an educator 
 who, bursting traditionary fetters, did much to- 
 ward the emancipation of learning from false 
 methods and aims. He was a gentleman so pure 
 and so true in every human relation, and so true to 
 God, that patriotism and religion might well point 
 to him as a model as long as tradition and the 
 printed page shall keep his name alive among 
 men. 
 
 The typical Georgian ! No one will dispute his 
 title. He was typical of what was truest, highest, 
 best in his people. If, while he typed their virtues, 
 he was in any degree tinged with their failings, we 
 need not be surprised at the fact; but unless he 
 had by some magic spell charmed the wide circle 
 of his friends into uncritical admiration, and be- 
 witched such enemies as he had into a strange si- 
 lence, it will be hard to find in all history a man so 
 positive in his convictions, so resolute in purpose, 
 so outspoken in expression, and so commanding 
 in influence, whose life could challenge a closer 
 scrutiny by his contemporaries, or have less to fear 
 from the siftings of after times when the false lights 
 have died out and every man who has gained the 
 
STARTED IN THE WORLD. 13 
 
 notice of mankind stands revealed in his true col- 
 ors and real proportions. 
 
 Longstreet's life was spent in civic service, and 
 it is, therefore, not strange that men far inferior to 
 him in the brilliancy of his genius and the value of 
 his labors should have obtained a wider popular 
 recognition. His character and career were sym- 
 metrical, and it is not strange that the eccentrici- 
 ties of smaller men gave them greater transient 
 notoriety. The hero of a duel or a hustings bully 
 may be a greater man in his day than the bene- 
 factor of a nation. To a child's eye a lightning- 
 bug outshines the brightest fixed star. There is no 
 little childishness in every generation of grown-up 
 people. The lightning-bug never sees a second 
 summer; the star shines on forever. 
 
THE BOY. 
 
 A TREE must make wood before it can bear fruit. 
 A healthy boy's chief business is to eat and 
 grow. Whatever hinders this process is fool- 
 ish and murderous. Whoso overtaxes a youthful 
 mind is guilty of a gross stupidity or a terrible 
 crime. Young Longstreet was neither happy nor 
 successful as a student in the old Richmond Acad- 
 emy at Augusta. The reason is not wholly clear. 
 Only his version of the case is known to us — a 
 truthful version, doubtless, but still one-sided and 
 partial. "I was," said he, "considered by my 
 preceptors a dunce in several of my academic 
 studies, and treated accordingly." What that 
 means cannot exactly be known now, but it left a 
 bitter memor}^ in the heart of the bright, ingenuous 
 boy. That was the day of brutalities in schools 
 unknown to this generation. One of these bru- 
 talities was the dunce-block. With a burlesque 
 paper crown upon his head, a boy was perched 
 upon a stool or bench and made to stand there lor 
 hours at a time, if of a sensitive nature, suffering 
 the agonies of unspeakable shame at being branded 
 as a fool; or if naturally callous or hardened by 
 rough usage, standing there sullen and revengeful, 
 nursing righteous wrath and getting gnarls and 
 twists in his moral fiber that would deform the 
 whole of his after life ; or worse still when a deli- 
 (14) 
 
THE EOT. 15 
 
 cate, sensitive little girl was thus pilloried, every 
 nerve in her frame quivering with the torture of 
 shame, dazed, discouraged, morally murdered. 
 These barbarisms are now impossible. Further 
 insight into his hapless case is thus given : * ' I could 
 not teach myself these studies without the help of 
 my teachers so-called, and I could not help myself 
 because I did not understand the language in which 
 the book-rules were given, and of course could not 
 understand the rules themselves." Poor boy! 
 His case typed a system, and explains the cause of 
 innumerable stunted growths among the victims of 
 a class of the old-time school-masters, whose like it 
 is to be hoped will never be seen again on earth. 
 
 A joyful season of freedom came to the young- 
 ster. His father removed with his family to Edge- 
 field District, South Carohna. Here, to use his 
 own language, the boy ** spent two or three happy 
 years." He was too happy to measure time, and 
 a year more or less counts for Httle in the bright 
 calendar of boyhood. He was a genuine boy, not 
 one of your mannish, unbearable, premature little 
 prigs who is loud and pert and all-knowing; nor 
 one of your weakly, goody, morbid Httle saints who 
 happily die early if with better health and improved 
 environment they are not born again into true boy- 
 hood. That Edgefield episode was a momentous 
 one to the young Georgian. He reveled in the 
 freedom and largeness of the country. His ideas 
 and tastes were those of a boy of the period: his 
 highest ambition, he says, ''was to outrun, out- 
 jump, outshoot, throw down any man in the dis- 
 trict." This ingenuous confession throws a flash 
 
1 6 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 of illumination over those times, about the begin- 
 ning of the present century, when martial fame was 
 the passport to popular favor, and virile strength 
 and pluck made a hero of a county bully or a crack 
 shot in a squirrel hunt or the winner in a wrestling- 
 match. Young Longstreet was not pugnacious or 
 aspiring above his fellows; he was a boy among 
 boys, and caught the ideas and spirit of his time. 
 
 Those boyish years in Edgefield imparted other 
 influences which he never lost. He was then and 
 there inoculated, unconsciously, with the spirit of 
 South Carolina politics, though too young to com- 
 prehend its formulas. The Edgefield people were 
 then, as now, high-spirited, tenacious in their grasp 
 of the notions once adopted by them, ready to 
 stake every thing upon a conviction. They were 
 South Carolinians of the straitest sect, a people 
 that may not always have been prudent or wise, 
 but who have left examples of devotion to princi- 
 ple under the obloquy visited upon minorities in 
 stormy times and in the shadow of defeat that will 
 receive the recognition of magnanimous foes and 
 thrill the hearts of the heroic and truth-lovincj while 
 time shall last. Impracticable, too sensitive, too 
 much given to abstractions, too uncompromising, 
 were they ? Grant it, but do not forget that if these 
 are the peculiarities of men who often fail in prac- 
 tical politics, they may be associated with the virt- 
 ues that make a State illustrious. Men of this sort 
 sow in tears in one generation the seeds of polit- 
 ical truth and virtue which will be reaped in joy by 
 another. The spell of Calhoun's genius was al- 
 ready felt by the people of South Carolina; and 
 
THE BOr. 17 
 
 the romping, laughing, responsive boy doubtless 
 received from him at this time a magnetic touch 
 v^hich he never lost. 
 
 After these two brief but blissful years in Edge- 
 field, he was ordered back to what he called his 
 '* hated penitentiary" — the Richmond Academy. 
 His teachers and text-books were the same, and his 
 heart sunk within him. He felt more like a con- 
 vict put to working a tread-mill than a student fol- 
 lowing a competent guide in the paths of knowl- 
 edge. But at this time an incident occurred which 
 changed his whole life. He met George McDuffie, 
 that rare genius, the incarnation of fiery eloquence 
 and burning patriotism who flamed athwart the 
 heavens of high political debate in the stormy night 
 of the great sectional conflict. '' While undergo- 
 ing the disciphne of the Richmond Academy," 
 says Longstreet, '* chance threw me under the 
 same roof, and choice into the same bed with 
 George McDuffie." That was a fortunate chance 
 and a wise choice for the discouraged young pupil 
 of the Richmond Academy. He found what he 
 needed — companionship, S3^mpathy, and mental 
 stimulus. His new comrade and bedfellow, he 
 says, ''devoured with greediness every book and 
 newspaper that he could lay his hands on. As he 
 could read these only at night, and as I could not 
 separate myself from him in his leisure hours, as 
 he seemed to regard it as a privilege and relish to 
 have a boon companion to imbibe knowledge with 
 him, and as he seemed to think, and perhaps did 
 think, that I was as greedy of learning as he was, 
 he always read aloud. This, to me, was at first 
 2 
 
1 8 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 irksome, then tolerable, then delightful, Thus," 
 continues Longstreet, " I acquired my first taste for 
 reading, and this was of incalculable benefit to me; 
 but I derived a still greater benefit from my con- 
 stant intercourse with this bright youth. I observed 
 that when we read the same books and papers he 
 always knew twice as much of their contents as I 
 did. I determined to match him if possible, and I 
 commenced reading with care and in a measure 
 studying what I read. Thus I learned the only 
 kind of reading which is of much value." 
 
 We must read between the lines to understand 
 the reciprocal influence of this boy friendship. 
 They were both endowed with that wonderful gift 
 we call genius. There was an element of rivalry 
 in their friendship, a rivalry generous and stimu- 
 lating,' not envious or in an}^ way mean. That they 
 had contests of wrestling, running, and jumping 
 is almost certain. It would be surprising if they 
 did not also have occasional boxing-matches, end- 
 ing at times in bloody noses, flushed faces, and a 
 little real fighting, such as most boys secretly like. 
 Who ever heard of any boy or man whose name 
 began with " Mc" who was not ready for a fight 
 on occasion? — a fight against sin and Satan if a 
 saint, a fight against any opposerif a sinner. Mc- 
 Duffie was a volcano slumbering or blazing. In 
 young Longstreet, the future jurist, teacher, and 
 preacher, was the metal that in his nephew, James 
 Longstreet, made the name the synonym of a cour- 
 age so invincible, a purpose so steady that no op- 
 posing lines ever withstood his direct onset when 
 the field was a fair one and the numbers at all 
 
THE B07\ 
 
 T9 
 
 equal. On almost a hundred bloody fields he was 
 among the bravest of the brave, leading the ragged 
 ranks of the boys in gray in many a desperate 
 charge where valor must conquer odds or flee or 
 perish. Said the heroic and truthful but ill-fated 
 Hood in 1866: " Of all the men Hving, not except- 
 ing our incomparable Lee himself, I would rather 
 follow James Longstreet in a forlorn hope or des- 
 perate encounter against heavy odds. He was our 
 hardest hitter." This was said by the man who 
 led the Texans at Cold Harbor, and a higher eulo- 
 gy was never pronounced by one brave man on an- 
 other. Does any reader say that Gen. Longstreet 
 blundered after the war was over? Let it be con- 
 ceded that he did blunder at that time; but for 
 the gray-haired hero whose sun is sinking among 
 the Georgia hills there is in the heart of every old 
 soldier who fought with him an inextinguishable 
 affection, and a secret .wish that before the old 
 man dies he shall receive full absolution for any 
 ■post bellitm blunder, and the assurance that when 
 the story of the great conflict shall be calmly and 
 impartially written the hero of Sharpsburg shall 
 have his place in the picture where the battle thun- 
 der was loudest and heroic blood most freely 
 flowed. 
 
 A more detailed chapter of the boy life of Long- 
 street and McDuffie would be interesting to the , 
 reader, but no person now living could write it. In 
 after days their lives ran in different channels — that 
 of Longstreet at a critical juncture taking a provi- 
 dential direction unforeseen and unexpected to 
 himself ; that of McDuffie leading him into politics, 
 
20 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 taking the turn that suited his genius; he was Rep- 
 resentative and Senator in Congress, Governor of 
 South CaroHna, and perhaps the most eloquent as 
 he was the most impassioned of all her orators of 
 that tempestuous period who ralHed around Cal- 
 houn in defense of what they believed to be the 
 true principles of the Federal Constitution. Mc- 
 Duffie was absolutely fearless and uncalculating as 
 to personal consequences — qualities that clothed 
 him with almost irresistible power when he pleaded 
 his cause before the people. His fiery philippics 
 against Northern invaders of State rights, as he 
 held to them, were magnificent; his denunciation 
 of the native-born Southerner who held any affili- 
 ation with them coruscated brilliantly with lurid 
 rhetoric, and blasted like a thunderbolt where it 
 struck. There is nothing left of his printed 
 speeches that furnishes any adequate idea of his 
 eloquence. He was like a fire-ship, consumed in 
 the blaze that lighted it to the battle. 
 
AT SCHOOL IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 AFTER two years, Longstreet left the Richmond 
 Academy, no more to return. He was sent to 
 the celebrated school of Dr. Moses Waddell, of 
 South Carolina. Here he felt the awakening touch 
 of true pedagogical genius that makes student life 
 a delight. Arithmetic, Latin, and Greek, former- 
 ly his stumbling-blocks and detestation, now gave 
 him no trouble; '' so far from it," said he, ** when 
 studying the classics under the shade of the beau- 
 tiful beeches which grew near the w^oodland seat of 
 science, I actually felt a touch of the inspiration 
 with which Virgil opens his deathless song. ' ' Here 
 he was fully born into intellectual life, and felt the 
 glow and thrill of the conscious power that makes 
 this first experience a joyful memory forever. No 
 record of the three years spent under Dr. Wad- 
 dell's instruction is accessible, but they were fruit- 
 ful years, perhaps the most momentous of all, em- 
 bracing the most impressible and formative period 
 of his life. His mental development must have 
 been rapid and steady during these years, while his 
 moral nature strengthened and expanded in the at- 
 mosphere of the school of the Christian scholar, 
 the fragrance of whose noble and beautiful life 
 lingers yet in the circles where he was known, and 
 whose influence is as imperishable as the minds 
 upon which he wrought as a master-workman. In 
 
 (21) 
 
22 JUDGE LONXiSTJ^EET. 
 
 later years Longstreet was selected by the Univer- 
 sity of Georgia to pronounce a eulogy in honor of 
 his old preceptor, who had found a wider sphere 
 and larger fame as an educator. The glow of un- 
 dying gratitude and the tenderness of an affection 
 that was almost filial characterized this tribute of a 
 pupil to his teacher. Lift your hat, gentle reader, 
 to the old master who taught you to love books, to 
 tell the truth, to honor womanhood, and to bow 
 reverently before Almighty God! We can never 
 pay the debt we owe to the teachers who made the 
 men who make our history illustrious. But verily 
 they shall have their reward. If their statues do 
 not find a place in the Pantheon of earthly glory, 
 the spirits they have formed will be living stones in 
 the temple of God on the bright, eternal hills. 
 
 It was not only growth in stature and book-learn- 
 ing that Longstreet gained in South Carolina. His 
 political opinions were being formed. In the white 
 heat of the great struggle that was going on the 
 hearts of such young Southerners as he were fused, 
 cooling with reflection and the lapse of time, but 
 never to change the mold into which they were then 
 cast. Taking sides with the strict constructionists 
 and rigid State rights party, he never left them. 
 When the battle waxed hot, he was restive until he 
 entered the lists. He was public-spirited andintense- 
 ly patriotic, and exhibited all the ardor of the school 
 of statesmen with whom he affiliated, a worth}- co- 
 partisan of the serene and majestic Calhoun , the bold 
 and fiery McDuHie, the unbending and unblenching 
 Troup, and in later days that almost matchless mas- 
 ter of assemblies, the elder Colquitt, and the hon- 
 
yir SCHOOL IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 23 
 
 est, manly, lion-hearted McDonald. They were 
 opposed for a time by Georgians and Carolinians 
 equally patriotic and scarcely less gifted — the mas- 
 sive and mighty Toombs, the gifted and noble 
 Stephens, the weighty and wise How^ell Cobb, of 
 Georgia, and Governor Perry and others, of South 
 Carolina, who strove by conservative counsel and 
 measures of compromise to avert calamities that 
 were fated to come. In the heat of that struggle 
 the compromisers were denounced as blind leaders 
 w^ho could not see that the day of compromises had 
 past, or as trimmers who were ready to set their 
 sails to catch any transient breeze of popular favor. 
 The other party, the party of immediate and un- 
 compromising resistance to Federal encroachment, 
 were denounced as fire-eaters and disunionists. 
 The tide of party passion rose so high that a large 
 element of the old Whig party, claiming to be the 
 party of the Union above all else, actually followed 
 Mr. Calhoun into nullification in opposition to 
 President Jackson. Underlying all this party pas- 
 sion on both sides was a genuine patriotism; and 
 when the final conflict came, the blood of both w-as 
 poured out freely in defense of the South. Who 
 can now say which party was the wiser? It is easy 
 enough to say that the attitude of the party of com- 
 promise encouraged Federal aggression until it 
 reached a point beyond which it could be endured 
 no longer. It is, on the other hand, just as easy to 
 affirm that the excessive passion and blunders of the 
 State rights party fed the fires of Northern fanat- 
 icism and furnished pretexts for continued sectional 
 agitation and fresh assaults upon the South. , There 
 
24 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 may be truth on both sides, but the policy of nei- 
 ther party could have prevented the impending 
 cataclysm. The dragon's teeth were sown in the 
 Constitution itself. That instrument was a series 
 of compromises, adopted under the pressure of one 
 paramount necessity, the formation of a more per- 
 fect Union. The impossible attempt was made to 
 reconcile its irreconcilable elements; the wisest 
 blundered and the best were not always consistent. 
 When, in the tragic outcome of the long contro- 
 versy, Atlanta was blazing and Sherman's march 
 through South Carolina was a track of fire, only a 
 man of narrow mind or jaundiced spirit could be 
 ready to lift an accusing voice against the men, liv- 
 ing or dead, who differed so widely in their views 
 of current statesmanship, but who were equally 
 ready to die for the land they loved. In the name 
 of the heroes who did die for it, let the surviv- 
 ors see to it that no Southern pen shall write a 
 sentence that would dim the luster of any great 
 name among the leaders of a time when the gath- 
 ering tempest obscured the heavens and the ship of 
 State was driven upon the breakers by forces be- 
 yond human control. 
 
 The reader will say that this chapter is wander- 
 ing far from its caption and starting-point, but the 
 three years spent by the yoving Georgian at school 
 in South Carolina had so much to do with his whole 
 after career, and so linked him to the men and 
 ideas that dominated his life, that the apparent di- 
 gression will be pardoned. 
 
 The aspirations of the young student who wished 
 to outrun, outjump, and outshoot his fellows took 
 
AT SCHOOL IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 25 
 
 a higher range. The prizes of literary, profes- 
 sional, and political ambition danced before his 
 imagination, and lured him onward in the toilsome 
 paths of study. "The main difference between 
 one man and another," said Dr. Toland, a South 
 Carohnian who made so deep a mark as a physi- 
 cian in California, 'Ms the bump of approbative- 
 ness, which the phrenologists locate on the very top 
 of the head. One man tries, another does not." 
 It was a half-truth spoken by the great surgeon. 
 Aspiration measures inspiration. When our Lord 
 himself promised that the disciple, faithful over a 
 few things, should be rewarded by being made 
 ruler over many, he appealed to the love of pow- 
 er which is an indestructible element of the moral 
 nature of man made in the image of God. Chris- 
 tianity regulates and sanctifies this aspiration, but 
 does not extirpate it. It could not do so without 
 partly obliterating the divine image. 
 
IN NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 YOUNG Longstreet entered the junior class in Yale 
 College in 1811. By Dr. Waddell he had been 
 so well drilled that his preparation was thorough, 
 and he found no difficulty in mastering the pre- 
 scribed course in that famous school. 
 
 Of his life at Yale he says: ** The two years 
 that I passed at college were among the happiest 
 of my life. No graduate of Yale ever left her 
 halls with a warmer love for every member of her 
 Faculty than I had, or a tenderer regard for the 
 people of New Haven. If parting tears never dried 
 up, and he who sheds them could always recog- 
 nize them, I could point to many witnesses of this 
 truth. The first gush of them was in that same 
 North Church while listenincr to the address of the 
 
 o 
 
 valedictorian of my class. The highest transport 
 that I ever felt from vocal music was in this church. 
 I loved all the professors of Yale, but the one that 
 I admired most of all was Benjamin SilHman. He 
 is the only one with whom I ever interchanged a 
 letter." 
 
 In the atmosphere of Yale College and the fair 
 city of New Haven his political principles under- 
 went no change. Connecticut has always been 
 inclined to the strict construction theory of consti- 
 tutional interpretation. Wherever you find a rep- 
 utable Connecticut Democrat, you will find a man 
 '(26) 
 
IN NE W ENGLAND. 1 7 
 
 singularly tenacious of his political views, and 
 steady in his adherence to legitimate party organ- 
 ization and obligations. That the young Georgia 
 student, who was all his life so intense in his South- 
 ern feelings, found the people of New Haven very 
 congenial to him — just like the people he had been 
 loving all his life — is not at all strange. Ignorance 
 is the mother of sectional prejudice. 
 
 The record of his college life is very meager. 
 He was studious, correct in his moral deportment, 
 and socially popular. We have abundant proof 
 that his intellectual development was healthful and 
 rapid. He was twenty-three years old at gradua- 
 tion. Deducting the two years "wasted at the 
 Richmond Academy," as he bitterly expressed it 
 in his old age, this was too short a time for the 
 completion of the ciirriciilmn of that famous school 
 of liberal learning. The pupil in this case may 
 have exhibited extraordinary aptness in the acqui- 
 sition of learning, as he certainly possessed unu- 
 sual powers of expression, but it would have been 
 better for him had he been less hurried in his edu- 
 cational course. Genius overleaps all ordinary 
 obstacles and disappoints all ordinary calculations, 
 but the laws of mental acquisition and development 
 are as inexorable as are those of physical nutrition 
 and growth. If Longstreet blundered by too great 
 haste, he did what is done by ninety-nine out of 
 every hundred young American students. If, 
 notwithstanding, he achieved a great career, the 
 fact must be attributed to a brilHant native genius 
 and extraordinary post-scholastic diligence as a 
 student. The early graduate who, having the 
 
28 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 \vin<^s of genius, flies and takes the prize fur- 
 nishes no proper example for the average student, 
 who must with sweat and toil climb the rugged 
 steeps of learning; and the unwritten records of 
 life's failures would disclose many a self-elected 
 genius whose flight was brief and whose fall was 
 fatal. The genius in college is too often the fail- 
 ure in after life. In some cases the cause is to be 
 found in the fact that what is called genius is the 
 abnormal stimulation of some shining faculty at the 
 expense of the entire mental organism, a pearl that 
 is the product of disease and the precursor of death. 
 In other cases the failure is to be looked for in the 
 folly that leads the possessor of genius, real or im- 
 aginary, to think that it will enable him to defy 
 the laws of mind and obtain the prizes of life with- 
 out paying the price. The wish is as dishonest as 
 the expectation is delusive. (This digression may 
 have little biograpical value, but let it stand.) 
 
 After graduation at Yale College, young Long- 
 street immediately entered the law school of Judges 
 Reeve and Gould in Litchfield, Conn. These 
 gentlemen must have been lawyers and teachers 
 of rare ability. The young barrister who felt their 
 touch never lost the traces of their power. The 
 3^ear spent under thdr instruction grounded the 
 prospective lawyer in the principles, methods, and 
 ethics of that profession from whose ranks have 
 come so many of the noblest defenders of freedom 
 and the greatest benefactors of the human race, 
 but whose "' black sheep " have made it too often 
 a synonym with the ignorant for trickery and ex- 
 tortion. 
 
IN NEW ENGLAND. 29 
 
 At Litchfield Longstreet sat for a year, " off and 
 on," under the ministry of Lyman Beecher, that 
 rugged and massive descendant of brawny black- 
 smiths whose belief in predestination did not pre- 
 vent them from working for the means of living in 
 the midst of a world where second causes operat- 
 ed, and father of perhaps the most notable family 
 of children ever born into one American household. 
 Lyman Beecher was a giant in his day, and it was 
 no small privilege for an inquisitive, responsive 
 young man like Longstreet to receive the impact 
 of his mighty thought and to catch the magnetism 
 of his glowing heart from week to week. Lyman 
 Beecher was one of the architects of Longstreet' s 
 character and career. .The measure of the influ- 
 ence of the great old Calvinistic preacher upon the 
 young law student cannot be known, but it could 
 not have been inconsiderable. 
 
 Among tha later writings of Judge Longstreet 
 is this allusion to one of Lyman Beecher's daugh- 
 ters, the pathos of which will not fail of recogni- 
 tion by the readers for whom it is quoted: "Her 
 name," said he, "has been brought annually, at 
 least, and tenderly to my memory for about fifty 
 years. She was betrothed to Alexander Fisher, 
 of my class, a man the like of whom it takes the 
 world a century to produce. From the day that 
 he entered college to the day that he graduated 
 he never missed but one question in a branch of 
 science taught in the institution ; and if he was be- 
 fore as he was after I entered the class, he never 
 hesitated two seconds in giving his answers. He 
 was elected Professor of Mathematics in Yale Col- 
 
30 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 lege soon after he graduated, was sent to England 
 upon some business connected with the college, 
 shipwrecked and lost; and thus Miss Beecher lost 
 a union of perhaps fifty years with the brightest 
 genius that I ever saw, and I believe the brightest 
 that America ever produced, blended with as love- 
 ly a moral character as any American ever bore." 
 This romance moved the old judge's heart fifty 
 years after the cruel tragedy took place. A cruel 
 tragedy it is on the face of it, and mysterious be- 
 yond our solution, but life is full of such tragedies 
 and seeming waste of brilliant genius and splendid 
 potentialities. Is there a God? Does he know? 
 Does he care? The revelations of the gospel in 
 which life and immortality are demonstrated, and 
 the intuitions of the trusting soul that walks by 
 faith in this night-time of our being give the atTIrm- 
 ative answer that saves us from madness and de- 
 spair. 
 
 the ruined piles of mind 
 Daily discovered everywhere, 
 Built but to crumble in despair! 
 
 1 dare not think Him so unkind. 
 
 The rudest workman would not fling 
 
 The fraginents of his work away 
 
 If every useless bit of clay 
 He trod on were a sentient thing. 
 
 And does the Wisest Worker take 
 Quick human hearts, instead of stone 
 And hew and carve them one by one. 
 
 Nor heed the pangs with which they break.? 
 
 And more: if but creation's waste. 
 
 Would he have given us sense to yearn 
 For the perfection none can earn, 
 
 And hope the better life to taste .^^ 
 
IN NE 1 V ENGL A ND. 3 1 
 
 I think, if we must cease to be, 
 It is cruelty refined 
 To make the instincts of our mind 
 
 Stretch ovit toward eternity. 
 
 Wherefore I welcome nature's cry, 
 As earnest of a life again, 
 Where thought shall never be in vain. 
 
 And doubt before the light shall fly. 
 
 No I there is no such waste. The hairs of our 
 heads are all numbered. The buddings of genius 
 will burst into full flower somewhere. Develop- 
 ment is not arrested. The infinite love conserves 
 what infinite power creates. The early friends 
 whose souls touched in hallowed union in their 
 young manhood now understand the mystery of 
 life and death. They see face to face, and know 
 even as they are known. 
 
THE BENCH, THE BAR, AND THE 
 HUSTINGS. 
 
 RETURNING to Georgia, young Longstreet was 
 admitted to the bar in 1815, and commenced 
 the practice of law. Of goodly presence, pleasant 
 address, fluent, witty, self-poised, full of energy, 
 and honorably ambitious, with a well-disciplined 
 intellect and pure morals, he began his profes- 
 sional career under the most flattering auspices. 
 His success was rapid. To take rank with such 
 compeers as William H. Dawson, John M. Ber- 
 rien, Howell Cobb, and others of like character 
 and genius, was no small achievement for the 
 young lawyer. The good Georgia people, recog- 
 nizing that they had among them a young man 
 endowed with genius, took him to their hearts, as 
 has always been their way. And a good way it is. 
 The public men of Georgia have had fierce con- 
 flicts among themselves, and at times the whole 
 State has fairly rocked with their mighty conten- 
 tion ; but it has been the custom for Georgians to 
 stand by Georgia and one another against the 
 world. When Toombs and Stephens in their 
 prime divided the scepter of political supremacy 
 between them, they were friends, not rivals. The 
 bluff and colossal Toombs and the pale and atten- 
 uated Stephens did not conceal their admiration 
 and love for each other. Georgia was large 
 (32) 
 
BENCH, BAR, AND HUSTINGS. 33 
 
 enough for them both, and they were both too 
 large for the petty jealousy and bitter rivalry that 
 ordinarily make it as impossible for two politi- 
 cians of first-rate ability to live amicably within 
 the same State lines as for two game roosters to 
 keep the peace in the same farm-yard. When 
 George F. Pierce was in the zenith of his powers 
 and fame as a pulpit orator, even the odium theo- 
 glcum, the most odious of all odious things, was 
 banished or abashed into silence in the presence 
 of the honest Georgia pride that led the highest 
 High-churchman, the most Calvinistic of Calvin- 
 ists, and the hardest of Hard-shells alike to flock 
 to hear him and to trumpet his praises. 
 
 Georgia has always been a good mother to her 
 children. And her children have repaid her love 
 to them by their devotion to her. Those who have 
 wandered away from her never forget her. Even 
 her adopted children, who have once felt the throb 
 of her mother-heart, love her forever. It is a fam- 
 ily feeling. When a Georgian is made the recip- 
 ient of an honor in Church or State, every true 
 Georgian rejoices in the fact, and appropriates his 
 share of the distinction. Proper State pride is the 
 guard and glory of a State. When young Long- 
 street began to show the metal of which he was 
 made, he found himself enveloped in an atmos- 
 phere warm with kindly feehng, and felt stimulat- 
 ed to put forth all his powers by the ready and 
 hearty applause of a generous people. 
 
 The educated young men of the time took to 
 politics, as a matter of course. To a young law- 
 yer of Longstreet's ardent temperament and ear- 
 3 
 
34 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 nest convictions, it was next to impossible to resist 
 the current that bore him in that direction. It is 
 pretty certain, however, that he did not resist very 
 strenuously. He yielded a willing captive to the 
 seductions of political ambition, which opened the 
 widest field of achievement among a people mainly 
 devoted to agriculture, having in their midst no 
 great cities as centers for the stimulation of litera- 
 ture and trade. The men of genius of the old 
 South devoted themselves to the study of state- 
 craft for reasons that are patent, neglecting litera- 
 ture as a profession. What was gained in the one 
 direction was lost in the other. Jefferson, Madi- 
 son, Calhoun, and a few others have left State pa- 
 pers and political disquisitions that are immortal, 
 while the larger number of their brilliant contem- 
 poraneous fellow-Southerners have left only the 
 oral tradition of the eloquence that stirred the 
 multitude and the legal learning that excited the 
 admiration of the bar and the bench. 
 
 Longstreet's reputation grew so rapidly that it 
 soon filled the State. " He rapidly achieved such 
 fame, and won for himself such reputation as a 
 finished and eloquent orator, that he could always 
 command as large an audience as any man in the 
 State, and perhaps larger than could any other 
 man." (Chancellor Waddell's Address of 1873 — 
 Historical Celebration.) 
 
 Longstreet, in his old age, thought it worthy of 
 mention that he *' was elected Captain of the Three 
 Hundred and Ninety-eighth District Companv of 
 Georgia Militia." The Georgia militia! what 
 memories of fun and frolic, of bloodless war and 
 
BENCH, BAR, AND HUSTINGS. 35 
 
 epauleted glory do the words bring to the minds 
 of readers whose recollections go back to those 
 days ! The muster-day was a great day for the 
 patriots who compulsorily and awkwardly marched 
 and countermarched, and mangled the miUtary 
 manuals ; for the sellers and drinkers of corn whisky 
 and hard cider; for the venders and consumers of 
 ginger-cakes ; and for the bullies and experts who 
 contended for the championship in fighting, wrest- 
 ling, running, jumping, and shooting. It was a 
 great day, too, for the politicians who took advan- 
 tage of the gatherings of the voters in large masses 
 to air their eloquence and solicit the popular suf- 
 frage. Capt. Longstreet knew very well that his 
 modest military title would not do him any hurt 
 with a constituency of Georgians v/ho in their 
 hearts cherished an undying passion for military 
 glory. It is in them yet, and will exhibit itself on 
 occasion, whether it be the apotheosizing of a gen- 
 eral who led against heavy odds the thinned col- 
 umns in gray or a one-armed private who followed 
 his standard. 
 
 Capt. Longstreet never rose any higher in mili- 
 tary rank, for he was soon destined to enter a war- 
 fare whose weapons were not carnal; and before 
 the drum beat for the war that came in 1861 he 
 was too old to take the field. That he relished 
 this little episode in his experience may not be 
 doubted. Its grotesque and humorous aspects 
 could not escape his quick observation, while his 
 martial fires kindled at the sound of the drum and 
 fife when "Yankee Doodle" was the tune. 
 
 His quick sympathies and generous nature made 
 
36 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 him zealous and effective in defense as a lawyer in 
 criminal cases. He identified himself so fully with 
 his client for the time being that he was carried 
 away with the tide of his feelings, and usually took 
 the judge and jury with him. It is related of him 
 that on one occasion he was defending a worthless, 
 half-witted sort of fellow, the son of a w^idow, for 
 sheep stealing. The proof of his client's guilt w^as 
 so plain that his only hope of getting him clear 
 was to appeal to the sympathies of the jury in be- 
 half of the unfortunate, weak-minded rustic, whom 
 he pictured most eloquently and pathetically as a 
 fatherless youth, deprived of the advantages of ed- 
 ucation and paternal discipline, the only support 
 of his poor old mother, whose last hope and only 
 remaining comfort in this world, which had always 
 been a w^orld of hardship and sorrow to her, w^ould 
 be taken from her if her boy should be convicted. 
 The presiding judge, jury, and spectators were 
 melted by this overwhelming appeal, and Long- 
 street himself was so wrought upon by the picture 
 he himself had drawn that he exclaimed: *' Look, 
 gentlemen of the jury, at my client, as he sits here 
 before you, bathed in tears, his fate in your 
 hands." Turning as he spoke, the eyes of all in 
 the court-room following the same direction, he 
 beheld his client sitting with a vacant face munch- 
 ing a huge horse ginger-cake ! The anticlimax 
 and reaction were complete. All in the court-room 
 were convulsed with laughter, excepting perhaps 
 Longstreet himself, who lost his case that time. 
 
 The next year ( 1822) he was raised to the bench, 
 and assumed the title by which he was best known 
 
BENCH, BAR, AND HUSTINGS. 37 
 
 ever after: Judge Longstreet. As a jurist he won 
 distinction by his learning, industry, integrity, and 
 that rare common sense that never failed him in 
 any position he was called to fill. His irrepressible 
 humor did not fail to relieve the tedium of the 
 court-room,. but did not exceed the hmits of judi- 
 cial decorum and good taste. 
 
 Among the contemporaries and competitors of 
 Judge Longstreet were John Forsyth, wit, orator, 
 diplomate, and party leader, who shone alike in 
 Senate, forum, or court, whose satire cut like 
 sharpest steel, and whose logic was as close-linked 
 as his rhetoric was brilHant; John Macpherson 
 Berrien, whose ability and classic eloquence made 
 him a conspicuous figure in the United States Sen- 
 ate in the days of the giants; L. Q. C. Lamar, the 
 elder, whose genius, courage, and high chivalry 
 made the name illustrious during his generation, 
 and who has a true successor in his not less illus- 
 trious son; George W. Towns, forceful, poHshed, 
 magnetic, a prince among his fellows and a mas- 
 ter of the human heart ; the elder Colquitt, the mar- 
 velously versatile lawyer, politician, and preacher, 
 who could rouse the enthusiasm of the crowd on 
 the hustings, sway a Senate, convulse with his 
 matchless humor a social circle, carry the verdict 
 of a jury, or melt a congregation to tears ; William 
 H. Crawford, colossal in stature as in intellect, 
 learned, pure-minded, grand, of whom Nathaniel 
 Macon, the great North Carohnian, said he was 
 ''the greatest man he ever saw," and who at one 
 time seemed to be within reach of the presidency 
 of the United States; WiUiam C. Dawson, whose 
 
^S JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Strong common sense, integrity of character, racy 
 Georgia humor, and sturdy independence gave 
 him prominence as a lawyer, jurist, and legislator, 
 and popularity with the people; John M. Dooly, 
 the inimitable, a queer genius whose quaint native 
 humor never failed, whose jokes still circulate, 
 whose knowledge of human nature and power to 
 play upon it made him invincible before a jury or 
 in a political canvass; Andrew J. Miller, lawyer, 
 statesman, patriot, a magnanimous and large- 
 hearted man who died at the early age of fifty- 
 seven; Richard Henry Wilde, known to the world 
 at large by one short poem, but whose wide knowl- 
 edge of law and letters, remarkable ability as an 
 orator, and brilliancy as a conversationalist won for 
 him the warm admiration of a whole generation of 
 Georgians; the elder Thomas W. Cobb, noble in 
 character as mighty in intellect, who was just go- 
 ing off the stage; Thomas W. Cobb, the younger, 
 a gifted, grand man, whose fall at Fredericksburg 
 was felt to be a national calamity; Howell Cobb, 
 who filled a cabinet office under President Buch- 
 anan, a solid, massive man who was a recognized 
 force in \io\}i\-post and an I e bcllum politics; Joseph 
 Henry Lumpkin, the upright judge, whose benig- 
 nant face beamed a benediction upon every be- 
 holder, with a brain clear and strong, a heart 
 warm and large, equally venerated for his learning 
 and loved for his virtues; Eugenius A. Nisbet, 
 widely read on many lines, chaste and mellifluous 
 in diction, of pure metal, and highly polished; 
 Christopher B. Strong, able, high-minded, true; 
 Eli S. Shorter, with a head for the law that would 
 
BENCH, BAR, AND HUSTINGS. 39 
 
 have given him prominence anywhere, and a gen- 
 ius for finance that at a later day w^ould have made 
 him leader in the Stock Exchange or Board of 
 Trade of any metropolis; 'Absalom H. Chappell, 
 whose strong and stately form typed his large and 
 vigorous intellect; Washington Poe, princely in all 
 the elements of his physical, mental, and moral con- 
 stitution; Henry R. Jackson, a man finely tuned 
 on the loftiest key, a true poet and able lawyer; 
 W. H. Underwood, another genius, whose wit was 
 as sparkling as his legal knowledge was exact and 
 full; James Jackson, combining judicial learning 
 with religious fervor in an extraordinary degree. 
 The names crowd upon the page, and a halt must 
 be called in marshaling the splendid array of the 
 professional rivals of Judge Longstreet. A little 
 later came Benjamin H. Hill, and Hammond, 
 Speer, Gordon, Du Bignon, Lester, Hardeman, 
 W. B. Hill, and others who maintain the prestige 
 of a noble profession, and inherit the lofty tradi- 
 tions and genius of the Georgia bench and bar. 
 
 To rise so rapidly, and maintain his place among 
 such men as these, furnishes conclusive proof of 
 the quality of the young barrister whose career is 
 sketched herein. 
 
 His charges to juries and the final sentences 
 which he pronounced upon prisoners convicted of 
 capital offenses were remarkable for their elo- 
 quence — the eloquence of deep and solemn feeling 
 in a kind-hearted man as well as that of a schol- 
 ar fertile in classic and historical allusion, whose 
 graceful rhetoric adorned all it touched, and whose 
 irrepressible humor flung some flash of special il- 
 
40 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 lumination alike over the dryest details of civil ju- 
 risprudence and the causes celebrcs in which life 
 and death w^ere weighed in the balances of justice. 
 Then, as now, in Georgia the title of judge was 
 one of distinguished honor. 
 
 While the waves of party passion were often 
 lashed into fury, no stain of dishonor or shadow of 
 suspicion had rested on the judiciary of the State. 
 Even in the dark and stormy period of reconstruc- 
 tion the wholesome traditions and moral sentiment 
 of the State overbore the malign tendencies of the 
 time, and the jtidiciary of Georgia was the break- 
 water against political corruption and the bulwark 
 of civilization. Among Georgia jurists there have 
 been many men of lofty intellectual stature, great 
 learning, and marked individuality, but none of 
 brighter genius or purer fame than Longstreet. 
 
THE UNWRITTEN CHAPTER. 
 
 A LOVE Story runs through Judge Longstreet's life 
 — fifty years of earth being its first chapter; the 
 second to be continued forever. But this story 
 can never be written or printed. No one could 
 have told it save the two persons most interested, 
 and neither of them could have told it as it was 
 without the invasion of privacies as sacred as holy 
 love itself. To have attempted it would have been 
 like unsealing a vial that held the most precious 
 perfume, whose odors would be exhaled and lost 
 in the air. The best true love stories have never 
 been told. They cannot be told. The novelist 
 and poet can picture love according to their con- 
 ceptions of it, but they cannot unveil the holy 
 of holies where true love finds actual expression. 
 The deepest love, human or divine, has in it an 
 element of reserve. 
 
 Had he chosen to do so, Judge Longstreet could 
 have given us a chapter on his wooing and wed- 
 ding with fair Frances Eliza Parke over which ev- 
 ery reader would linger with delight. He had met 
 her at Greensboro while there on professional 
 duty, and was drawn by that mysterious attraction 
 felt by souls destined for each other. Love at first 
 sight is not seldom the snare of the silly and the 
 pretense of the shallow, but it remains true that 
 those who are intended for each other are apt to 
 
 (41) 
 
42 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 feel at once the force of affectional gravitation 
 when thrown into close proximity. The brilliant 
 young lawyer found his fate when he first met in the 
 social circles of that aristocratic old Georgia vil- 
 lage the gentle, sweet-faced young maiden. She 
 waG of good family — in fact, it is said she was of 
 the Parke-Curtis family, of Virginia, aUied to that 
 of George Washington, and that her mother was 
 akin to that robust British hero. Sir John Hawkins. 
 Young Longstreet was not searching for a pedi- 
 gree when she crossed his path. His nature was 
 too earnest, simple, and true for it to be possible 
 for him to be a fortune-hunter or a title-seeker. 
 The simple fact is, he fell in love. Of their first 
 meetings, their rides among the red hills and deep 
 woods, their moonlight walks, his first conscious- 
 ness that he was a lover, and his first trembling 
 avowal of the fact, her blushing response, the 
 progress of his suit, the proposal and acceptance — 
 of all this, which made the sweetest memory of 
 their lives, there is no record, and so we are left to 
 fill out the picture for ourselves. It was not a long 
 courtship. He was too ardent a lover and she too 
 little of a coquette for that. That he had rivals 
 we may be quite sure, and perhaps there was 
 enough of rivalry to add a fresh element of excite- 
 ment to the wooing, and to arouse the witty and 
 magnetic young barrister from Augusta to do the 
 best and quickest work possible to him in that line 
 of achievement. Whether he indited to her verses 
 of his own composition, w^hether he made notable 
 changes in the raiment he wore, whether he ex- 
 hibited much of the awkwardness so often charac- 
 
THE UNWRITTEN CHAPTER. 43 
 
 teristic of young men of the loftiest ideals in deal- 
 ing with women, whether they had any of the 
 lovers' quarrels that are so maddening, with the 
 reconciliations that are so blissful, we cannot say. 
 It is certain that his wooing prospered. 
 
 They were married March 3, 1817, when he was 
 twenty-seven years old and she a few years young- 
 er. The}^ lived together in unbroken affection and 
 felicity for fifty-one years. They were parted for 
 awhile by her death, which took place at Oxford, 
 Miss., in 1868. The glimpses we get of her 
 through the utterances, mostly incidental, of 
 those who knew her best reveal such a woman 
 as could win and hold the heart of such a man 
 as her husband, and be an inspiration and a helper 
 to him through all the stages of a noble career. In 
 an address of Judge James Jackson on the life and 
 character of Judge Longstreet, delivered at Oxford, 
 Ga., July 16, 1871, this language concerning her 
 is quoted from one who knew her well: "I never 
 expect to see a lady of more refinement and 
 more finished cultivation, of purer soul and bet- 
 ter heart than Mrs. Longstreet. She was a seri- 
 ous but cheerful person ; rarely well in body, but 
 chastened by affliction, she grew in grace until she 
 looked like an angel." 
 
 Perhaps it was well for her husband that she was 
 a "serious" person, else his irrepressible humor 
 might have been at times too exuberant. The last 
 clause of the closing sentence gives a charming 
 picture of a saint "shining in holy beauty in the 
 light of God," and suggests to the elect reader the 
 transforming and transfiguring power of the touch 
 
44 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 of the Spirit of the Lord which chisels the fading 
 features of the human face into unearthly beauty 
 here, and will clothe the resurrection body with the 
 glory of heaven. 
 
 That venerated and saintly man of God, the 
 Rev. Walter R. Branham, upon whose name the 
 pen lingers with reverent regard, says of her: 
 " I met Mrs. Longstreet in Augusta fifty-one 
 years ago, and casually, but for a short time, at her 
 own house and that of my father up to 1863. Dur- 
 ing the war she refugeed to Oxford, Ga., and was 
 for a short time the inmate of my house. The en- 
 viable reputation she had earned among those who 
 knew her well was fully justified by a more inti- 
 mate acquaintance. What her earlier opportunities 
 were I do not know, but she had evidently under- 
 gone a culture which made her a fit companion for 
 her gifted and distinguished husband. Her matron- 
 ly beauty, her quiet, unobtrusive demeanor, the 
 sweet spirit that looked out from her expressive 
 eyes, and the kind regard she manifested for the 
 welfare and happiness of others, (in the language 
 of a friend) 'captured the heart at first sight, and 
 kept it.' Although long an invalid, her youthful 
 charms were succeeded by that peculiar beauty 
 which a chastened, meek, and quiet spirit gives to 
 the form and face of maturing years." 
 
 Mrs. Longstreet died in 1868. A letter from' 
 Judge Longstreet to a kinswoman, written seven- 
 teen months afterward, while it furnishes a beauti- 
 ful tribute to his wife, suppHes some finks in this 
 life-story. Its details sound a little curious at this 
 day. The world has moved since 1817. 
 
THE UNWRITTEN CHAPTER. 45 
 
 Oxford, Miss., March 6, 1870. 
 
 My Very Dear Cousin: A minute has not elapsed since I fin- 
 ished reading your most welcome letter, and you see I am an- 
 swering it already. Well, my dear Louisa, I vi\\x%\. for you per- 
 form a task that I have often attempted, but always abandoned 
 as soon as I seated myself to perform it, for with the first 
 thought of its execution my heart begins to ache, my eyes be- 
 gin to stream, my hand begins to tremble, and I turn from the 
 sheet before me as though it were the "winding-sheet" of my 
 dear, departed Eliza. You anticipate it, and here it is— executed 
 with less perturbation of mind and body than I supposed I could 
 carry thus far through it during my brief span of existence. 
 She was taken from me after we had lived together in happy 
 union fifty years, seven months, and ten days from the date of 
 our marriage, 3d of March, 1817. In all this time I do not be- 
 lieve that she ever uttered one word or did one thing to wound 
 my feelings. She, as you know, had a very handsome estate 
 when I married her; I did not have money enough to buy my 
 wedding clothes. Soon after our marriage I went largely in 
 debt for a plantation and its outfit for making a crop, with some 
 thirty or moi'e of the likeliest field-hands that I ever saw — last 
 year hers, this year mine. These remained to her after she had 
 given nine like them to her mother, who was in hardly easy cir- 
 cumstances. I married her in Greensboro, Ga., seventy-five 
 miles from Augusta, my native city. In Greensboro had she 
 been brought up from her girlhood. Here we lived for about 
 twelve years. Here our first son and her mother died within 
 two days of each other. In the meantime I had risen rapidly in 
 popular favor and professional reputation. I had been legisla- 
 tor and judge, and was running for Congress with the certainty 
 of election when our afi^ictions came upon us. They clipped 
 the wings of my worldly ambition forever, and turned my 
 thoughts heavenward. My wife estimated my talents by her 
 love for the possessor and'his rapid preferment, and she had 
 doubtless figured to herself the high renown I was to acquire in 
 Congress, and the happiness she was to enjoy in witnessing its 
 growth amidst the gayeties and splendors of the capital. These 
 fond dreams were now dissipated forever. I took down my 
 name from Congress, and she and I became seekers and profess- 
 ors of religion. It would have been natural for her to have 
 said, " Husband, is it not as easy to be a religious statesman as 
 to be a religious lawyer.?" or have dropped some word indica- 
 tive of her sore disappointment, but no such word ever escaped 
 her lips. 
 
 Three years after her mother's death I proposed that we 
 
46 
 
 J UD GE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 should move to Augusta, where I believed I would have a more 
 lucrative practice than I could have in Greensboro. This was 
 a proposition to forsake the graves of her mother and her two 
 children ; to forsake the people ainong whom she had been 
 brought up, all of whom esteemed her, and some, her equals in 
 rank, seemed to regard her with a sort of queenly deference — to 
 forsake all these and settle among strangers. How natural, how 
 pardonable would it have been in her to have said: " My dear 
 husband, have we not enough to live on in affluence all of our 
 lives.-* Does our Bible teach us that growth in riches is assist- 
 ant to grow^th in grace.-* Shall we desert the graves of those 
 vipon whose cheeks we shed our first commingled tears.'' Shall 
 we leave the people who nursed them so kindly, bore them to 
 their place of rest, and wxpt with us as though our losses were 
 their own — leave these people and that consecrated soil for a 
 land of strangers, only that you may secure a better practice.'* " 
 O, angel spirit, why did you not say so.-* I think I can answer 
 for her: " Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodg- 
 est, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my 
 God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried." 
 Well, w^e moved to Augusta. I sold my possessions in 
 Greensboro at a sacrifice, bought a plantation near the city, and 
 commenced planting and lawing with high hopes. Alas! they 
 were soon blasted. My practice increased, to be sure, but my 
 expenses increased in duplicate ratio, and my troubles in an in- 
 numerable ratio. My crops barely paid the expenses of making 
 them, my negroes became thieves, they stole my hogs, my corn, 
 my bacon (by false keys), and every thing they could sell. Se- 
 curity debts I had to pay by thousands; in short, you can 
 hardly name a trouble to which I Avas not subjected. Through- 
 out them all my wife was my counselor, my comforter, my en- 
 courager. At length I told her I must do one of two things: 
 I must sell my plantation and negroes, or I must quit the prac- 
 tice of law. These negroes had been bequeathed to her and her 
 brother in early childhood by their grandfather, who had select- 
 ed them to correspond in age with the age of the two children, 
 that they all might grow up together. Her brother soon died, 
 and they all fell to her. She was eighteen when I married her, 
 and here were these negroes, between forty and fifty in number, 
 with not an old one among them save their parents who had been 
 bequeathed with them. She was now called upon to say wheth- 
 er she would part with the slaves in a body (save the house- 
 servants and their families) or have her husband renounce his 
 profession. I don't know that she paused a moment before she 
 answered: "Husband, I leave the matter entirely with you, and 
 
THE UNWRITTEN CHAPTER. 47 
 
 will freely acquiesce in your choice." "Then," said I, "we 
 will sell them." She showed a little sadness, but never the first 
 sign of disapprobation. A purchaser soon appeared in a com- 
 panion of my boyhood, a pious man, and of course a good mas- 
 ter. Is old them at fair prices all round. This sale put me out 
 of debt and left me a clever sum over, and relieved me of the 
 eternal torment of negroes, overseers, and creditors. Things 
 now brightened about me greatly. A few years rolled on, when 
 this "lovely and loving spirit" was called on to endure the se- 
 verest trial of all. 
 
 The first year of my ministry (1S39) the yellow fever made its 
 appearance in Augusta, and my house was soon filled with fugi- 
 tives from the city, who boarded me out of every thing I had to 
 eat, so that I had nothing to sell at the end of the year but my 
 dwelling and land. These I disposed of at their full value. I 
 was now foot-loose for the Methodist itinerancy. While admin- 
 istering to the sick, the dying, and the dead for five dreary 
 months, expecting every day to become a victim to the disease, 
 
 how my soul rejoiced as it found me serving God instead of 
 serving clients! At the close of the year I was placed at the 
 head of Emory College, a recently established Methodist insti- 
 tution in the recently laid out Methodist village of Oxford, Ga. 
 The fees of my practice at the bar amounted to about $13,000. 
 These, with the proceeds of the sales of my property, enabled 
 me to save it from death, at least to relieve its death agonies, and 
 to do great good otherwise. The college prospered under my 
 supervision, and in the course of a few years became the rival 
 of the State University in reputation and patronage. Here both 
 my companion and myself supposed that we were to spend the 
 remainder of ovir lives, but Providence had not so ordered it. 
 At the end of nine years' residence in this peaceful village, she 
 was doomed to another change, and to bid farewell to the soil 
 that covered two more of her children, to her only two surviv- 
 ing ones, and three grandchildren. In the spring of 1848, I re- 
 ceived letters from two of the Trustees of the University of Mis- 
 sissippi desiring to know if I would accept the presidency of 
 that institution if elected, giving me strong assurance of the ap- 
 pointment. I was immediately impressed with the opinion that 
 
 1 could serve God and my country better at the head of a State 
 institution than at the head of a sectarian institution. I sub- 
 mitted the matter to Bishop Andrew with these words: " I am 
 inclined to think that I ought to accept this appointment. Em- 
 ory is now upon a firm basis. There are fifteen preachers within 
 sound of the college bell, and therefore I am not needed here 
 either as a preacher or a teacher. Take a little time to consider 
 
48 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 the matter, and give me the light of jour counsel upon it." " I 
 don't want a moment's time to reflect upon it," said he;'' you 
 ouglitto go," and gave his reasons. I immediately signified to 
 the Trustees my readiness to accept. The election did not come 
 on till October or November. As soon as our Commencement 
 exercises of 1848 were over I resigned. My successor was ap- 
 pointed and I was a gentleman at large, free to choose the mode 
 of life that might seem to be the most agreeable to me. I en- 
 tered the itinerancy without a circuit; and worked where I was 
 most needed. My labors were greatly blessed, and of course 
 so was I. Thus employed the report of the Mississippi election 
 found me. Through the influence and eloquence of a Catholic 
 member of the Board, who protested against ever putting a 
 clergyman of any denomination at the head of the college, I 
 was beaten by one vote. I was so happy in my new vocation, 
 which could not be changed for a month to come, that I rather 
 rejoiced than repined at my defeat. The news of it had hardly 
 had time to reach Louisiana before I received news that I had 
 been unanimously elected by the Trustees of Centenary College 
 President of that institution. I accepted the appointment. 
 Hitherto my changes of vocation and place had all been in 
 Georgia, where from the movmtains to the sea-board my wife 
 and myself Avere well-known and much esteemed. Now she 
 was to journey to a far off land, where neither she nor her hus- 
 band knew a living soul. She accompanied me thither with the 
 same equanimity and uncomplaining submission with which she 
 accompanied me to Oxford, Ga. I entered upon my duties in 
 February or March, 1849, and right from the close of the five 
 happiest months of my life began the five most tormenting. 
 How the}' came to be so, no matter. I presided at one Com- 
 mencement in July, and resigned. While packing up my things 
 to return to Georgia, I was informed that I had been unanimous- 
 ly elected President of the University of Mississippi. I accept- 
 ed the appointment, and took my place in September, 1849. My 
 sons-in-law followed me hither. In July, 1856, I resigned and 
 feHcitated my wife upon her having lived to see the end of my 
 vagrant life. I had now reached my sixty-sixth year, and felt no 
 scruples at retiring from active service of Church or State, but 
 she was doomed to one more move. Toward the close of 1857, 
 I received a letter from the Trustees of the University of South 
 Carolina inquiring if I would accept the presidency of that in- 
 stitution if elected. " Here," said I, " wife, you shall decide this 
 matter. If the inquiry came from any other quarter, I would 
 not hesitate a moment to answer in the negative; but South 
 Carolina and Georgia have been twin nurses of me and twin sis- 
 
THE UNWRITTEN CHAPTER. 49 
 
 ters in 'my affections; and if I could be tempted into the service 
 of any State in the Union at this late day, it would be dear old 
 South Carolina. But your word shall be law to me in this case, 
 for I shall regard it as the suggestion of Providence." She pos- 
 itively refused to decide the question. " Well," said I, "I don't 
 think it will be possible for my answer to reach the Trustees in 
 time for them to present my name to the Board before the elec- 
 tion comes off. I will answer in the affirmative; and if it does 
 not reach its destination in time, I shall conclude that I should 
 not have accepted the place, and vice versaP It did reach its 
 destination just in time, and that was all. I was elected, accept- 
 ed, and remained at the head of the College until the students 
 volunteered as a body in the service of the Confederacy. My 
 wife and myself separated no more until the 13th of November, 
 1868, when she left me gloriously for heaven. 
 
 A. B. LONGSTREET. 
 
 4 
 
A CHANGE OF HEART. 
 
 A CHANGE of heart — that is the way Judge Long- 
 street himself described the event that changed 
 the current of his whole life. At this point a fresh 
 regret rises in the mind of the biographer, as it will 
 in that of the reader, in recalling the fact that the 
 papers of Judge Longstreet on religious subjects 
 were destroyed by fire about the close of the war. 
 The psychology of the conversion of such a man 
 furnishes a study of profound interest to all intelli- 
 gent minds. The full details of his experience in 
 his own language would possess a thrilling interest 
 for all religious persons. But there is no one now 
 living who can tell all the story, and so the most 
 important chapter in this memoir may prove to be 
 the least satisfactory. 
 
 He was wrenched out of his usual course of 
 thought and living by a great sorrow — the death 
 of his first-born son in the year 1824. He reeled 
 under the shock. "This loss," he says, "turned 
 my thoughts from earth to heaven — not so much to 
 heaven '5 rewards as to heaven '5 reunions — and I 
 determined to seek religion, but in a way of my 
 own, without the help of Churches." 
 
 The blow by which his heart was smitten thus 
 
 opened a channel for God. The hope of heaven's 
 
 reunions has first turned thitherward the thoughts 
 
 and yearnings of a great company of the broken- 
 
 (50) 
 
A CHANGE OF HEART, 5I 
 
 hearted to whom the promise and hope of reward 
 have afterward come as an auxiliary motive. Our 
 hearts are human, and He who made us knows us. 
 Great love is wrapped up in a great grief when it 
 comes as this grief came to the aspiring, popular, 
 rising young lawyer. 
 
 It is surprising to have Judge Longstreet tell us, 
 as he does, that at this time he was an infidel. 
 What made him an infidel is unknown. Perhaps 
 infidelity happened to be the fashion with his com- 
 panions at school; or it may have been the influene 
 of some gifted but unbeheving preceptor; or it may 
 have been a bad book that had gotten into his 
 hands before his mental powers were matured ; or 
 it may have been the outgrowth of the intellectual 
 pride that so often proves a snare to genius or tal- 
 ent. 
 
 He farther astonishes us by the statement that 
 he was very ignorant of the Holy Scriptures. "I 
 had never," he says, "bestowed an hour's study 
 on them, with the honest aim of ascertaining their 
 truth, in all my life." 
 
 For four or five days after the death of his son 
 it seemed as if his head would rend asunder with 
 pain, and he said to his physician: *' Doctor, if 
 you do not do something for me, I shall be a mad- 
 man in a few days." ''Time," said the doctor, 
 *'is the only physician for your disease." "But 
 there was a Physician who could and did heal my 
 disease long before time could have done it," is 
 the grateful record made by him nearly forty years 
 afterward. 
 
 The death of his son occurred while he was liv- 
 
52 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ing with his wife's mother and her second hus- 
 band at Greensboro, Ga. This step-father was a 
 Christian; ''a more blameless character I never 
 knew," says Longstreet. *' On the day after my 
 child was buried," says he, " his wife died. What 
 was my loss compared with his? Morning and 
 evening would my bereaved household friend go 
 down on his knees and acknowledge our afflictions 
 as sent of God, and pray for strength to bear them 
 submissively, and that they might be sanctified to 
 our souls' eternal good. ' I would give a thousand 
 worlds,' thought I, 'if I could believe the Scriptures 
 as this man does ; their fruits are lovely, to say the 
 least of them.' " 
 
 Thus impressed, he tells us that he determined 
 to seek religion; *' and I will seek it," he resolved, 
 "just in the way those who know most about it 
 tell me to seek it. I announced my resolution to 
 my wife, and then announced it to her step-father, 
 and told him that thenceforward I would share 
 family prayer with him. Tears of joy filled his 
 eyes, and my tears of grief ceased to flow. I com- 
 menced studying the Scriptures in earnest, praying 
 God if they really were true that I might be con- 
 vinced of their truth. I had not studied them more 
 than a fortnight before I began to find in them won- 
 derful evidences of their divine origin, which I 
 wondered the world had never discovered before, 
 and which I afterward learned were from two to 
 fifteen hundred years old. All my doubts soon 
 vanished, and I became a thorough behever in 
 Christianity." 
 
 Thus he attained an intellectual behef in Chris- 
 
A CHANGE OF HEART. 53 
 
 tianity, and he was now ready to enter the open 
 door. His resolution to seek rehgion " just in the 
 way those who knew most about it told him to seek 
 it" shows that the barrier of a false pride was 
 broken down, and that he was ready to receive 
 the kingdom of heaven as a little child. It was 
 not long before he was born into the new life. 
 The remembrance of it thirty-five years afterward 
 thrilled his soul with holy rapture. In a letter to 
 an old friend, Gen. James Bethune, dated July 2, 
 1859, he stated that the Rev. Adiel Sherwood offi- 
 ciated in the pulpit, '* with warm John Howard," 
 when, for the first time, with his bosom friend (his 
 wife) he bowed a penitent at the altar. *'Your 
 sister," he adds, ''stood by me, and prayed with 
 me through all the struggles of the new birth. O 
 what a revival did we lead off I O what happy 
 weeks followed I" He tells us that his tears 
 gushed and his eyes could scarcely see to trace 
 these lines penned so long afterward. 
 
 He came in at the strait gate of repentance 
 and faith amid the songs and prayers of the 
 Church. He was converted, and knew it. Old 
 things had passed away, and all things had become 
 new. It was indeed a change of heart. The king- 
 dom of heaven — righeousness, peace, and joy in 
 the Holy Ghost — was set up within him. It was a 
 clear and joyous conversion. The blossomings of 
 his new life were as full of beauty and fragrance 
 as the after-fruitage was rich and abundant. It 
 was what our fathers called a powerful conversion. 
 
 This experience illustrates the text which is the 
 key to the kingdom of God — "If any man will do 
 
54 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it 
 be of God" (John vii. 17) — and reveals the path 
 to peace for every earnest inquirer. 
 
 In a paper by Judge Longstreet, pubHshed in 
 1870, we lind this exegetical comment and chal- 
 lenge: " Of course, when Christ says *If any man 
 will do his will,' he means God^ s will as revealed 
 by himself. Now, come, infidel, I dare you to the 
 test. Assume that Jesus Christ was what he pro- 
 fessed to be: a legate from heaven, sent or coming 
 out from God to teach men their duty to their Cre- 
 ator, and the consequences of obedience or disobe- 
 ence to his commands. Put off all your worldly 
 wisdom, and approach him as a little child ap- 
 proaches his father. Cease from every thing 
 which he calls sin. Read his word carefully un- 
 der the supposition that it is, or at least may be, 
 true. Honestly pray to him that if it really be 
 true, he will convince you of its truth. Pr^iy in pri- 
 vate, pray in your family, attend the ministr3^of his 
 word every Sabbath, withdraw from the society of 
 profane persons, and make Christians your prin- 
 cipal associates. Do this for three months; and if 
 you are not become a thorough believer in the 
 truth of Christianity, I will submit patiently to any 
 chastisement you may choose to inflict upon me as 
 a vile, hypocritical deceiver. / speak from cxpc- 
 rience.^' 
 
 This was written late in his life, when the reality 
 of his conversion and the solidity of his hope had 
 been tested for nearly half a century with its ad- 
 mixture of pleasure and pain, joy and grief, pros- 
 perity and adversit\'. It was not the boast of a 
 
A CHANGE OF HEART. 55 
 
 young soldier who had just put on his armor, but 
 the shout of a veteran who had fought the good 
 fight, the joyful song of a pilgrim near the end of 
 his journey. 
 
 He goes on to say: '* It would be measureless 
 cruelty to disenchant me of this delusion (if a de- 
 lusion you will call it). Don't argue me out of it 
 just as I am approaching the grave. If you do, 
 you will pluck out of this serene old heart three 
 precious little comforts unknown to science — faith, 
 hope, and charity — and put in their places three 
 sticks of lunar caustic, which is a work of science, 
 but by no means so comforting. If it be all priest- 
 craft, or any part of it priestcraft, don't visit its 
 penalties on me ; for I pledge you my word and 
 honor that I had nothing to do with getting it up, 
 and, for the Hfe and soul of me, I cannot see how 
 any man could get it up. I can find nothing like 
 it that existed before the reign of Augustus Ccesar. 
 I got it out of a little book, written before there 
 was a priest of any order in the world to practice 
 any craft. It is called the New Testament. It 
 gives us an account of a wonderful personage who 
 appeared in the world, and who professed to be a 
 teacher and a ruler from God. He delivered his 
 precepts and commands to the world; and two il- 
 literate fishermen, one a hated tax-gatherer, an 
 itinerant doctor, and a man named Mark (calling 
 unknown) recorded them. . . . He himself 
 said his teaching was from God, and here he 
 might have rested his statement with perfect safe- 
 ty, seeing that all the infidels of the world for 
 eighteen hundred years have not been able to find 
 
56 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 any thing like it in any man's work. But, gentle- 
 men, unbelievers all, he has staked his reputation 
 [claims] upon it, and put into your hands a test 
 infallible of his veracity, and consequently of the 
 soundness or rottenness of the whole Christian re- 
 ligion, lie says if any man will do his will, he 
 shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God. 
 Now I challenge you to the experiment. But come 
 squarely and fairly and honestly up to it. Of 
 course I do not extend the challenge to those who 
 believe that there is no God. David calls them 
 fools, and he knew more about them than I do. 
 Certainly I should be a great fool myself to ask a 
 man to test the truth of God's chief witness who 
 does not believe that there is a God." 
 
 Judge Longstreet tells us that at the time of his 
 conversion he knew nothing of the text upon which 
 he based this challenge to the infidel, but which, he 
 unwittingly verified. The reader will pardon the 
 anachronism that unifies this experience. The 
 process and the results are commended to whom it 
 may concern. 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 
 
 IN 1828 Judge Longstreet became a preacher of 
 the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. He took 
 this step at a time when he was in the very flood- 
 tide of worldly success. His rise had been both 
 rapid and steady. In 1821 he was a member of 
 the Legislature of Georgia; in 1822 he was made 
 Judge of the Ocmulgee Circuit; as editor of the 
 Augusta Sentinel he had achieved distinction as a 
 writer; and now, having received the nomination 
 by the dominant party for a seat in Congress, his 
 election was a certainty, and his way seemed to be 
 clear to the highest honors his State could bestow 
 upon him. A shock of surprise was felt by his 
 friends and the general public when, in the heat of 
 the canvass, he announced his withdrawal from the 
 contest. 
 
 It must have been indeed a mighty compulsion 
 that caused him thus to stop short in his pohtical 
 tareer when one of its glittering prizes was within 
 his easy reach. It was harder for him than for 
 most men. He had a natural fondness for politics, 
 as the kindly reader will see, a fondness which 
 never wholly left him, and which might have been 
 to him a fatal snare had his call and consecration 
 to a higher service been less clear and complete. 
 As it was, he was more than once drawn to the 
 very edge of the outer circle of the vortex of par- 
 Co?) 
 
58 . JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 tisan strife into which many gifted preachers have 
 been ingulfed. A few men of extraordinary ver- 
 satihty and self-poise have been able to blend the 
 pursuit of party politics and the preaching of the 
 gospel with some degree of success, but it is a 
 hazardous experiment for any man. The usual 
 result is that a preacher is spoiled without making 
 a good poHtician. Even in the few cases that have 
 been apparently successful, it is scarcely to be 
 doubted that whatever good such men may have 
 done as political leaders or agitators, they might 
 have done more by keeping to their one work 
 as preachers of the gospel. The preacher who 
 preaches the purest gospel, and practices what he 
 preaches, is the truest patriot. The example of 
 our Lord himself is in point. He wrote no treatise 
 on political economy, identified himself with no 
 political party. Nor did any of his apostles; they 
 had but one theme ; one master-passion absorbed 
 them. The temptation to a preacher of popular 
 gifts and ardent temperament to go into politics is 
 often dangerously strong in our country, especially 
 in contests in which political questions involve 
 issues affecting the moral as well as the material 
 interests of the State. Before our late war, during 
 . the war, and immediately after the war the preach- 
 ers of various denominations — some more, some 
 less — took an active part in political matters, justi- 
 fying themselves on the plea that vital moral ques- 
 tions were at stake, that the life of the republic or 
 the safety of a section was threatened, or some 
 other plea equally plausible. Those times are past. 
 Amonir the survi\ors let him that is without sin 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACIIEn. 59 
 
 cast the first stone at an erring brother or sister 
 Church. Let no petty partisan or narrow section- 
 ahst, in the face of the facts, allege that the fault 
 was all on one side. And let nobody take offense 
 at the suggestion that had the ministers of the gos- 
 pel of peace been less affected by sectional feeHng 
 and party passion a bloodless settlement of the 
 trouble bequeathed to us by our forefathers might 
 have been effected, and that the process of recon- 
 struction would have been easier and quicker. 
 
 Judge Longstreet was a born pohtician, but he 
 was born again for a higher vocation. He has left 
 us but little that tells of the inner questionings and 
 struggles that immediately preceded his entrance 
 upon the work of the Christian ministry. Regrets 
 are useless, but irrepressible. Here is his account 
 of the matter in his own language: '* I had felt 
 for some years that I was called of God to preach 
 the gospel, but I had excused myself on the 
 ground of my peculiar embarrassments. In the 
 fall of 1828 this impression became so strong 
 upon my mind that I actuall}^ feared to resist it. I 
 unbosomed myself to my bosom friend upon this 
 head upon this wise: ' My dear wife, I feel that I 
 am under the last call of God to preach his gospel. 
 So far as it concerns me personally, it will cost me 
 no effort to obey it; but when I think of you, I 
 recoil from it. A man may be a lawyer and a true 
 Christian, but I am satisfied that he cannot be a 
 practicing attorney and an efficient preacher at the 
 same time. If, therefore, I enter the ministr}^ I 
 shall abandon the law. I shall seek no favors or 
 indulgences from the Church that Vv-ould not be 
 
6o JUDGE LONG STREET. 
 
 readily granted to the poorest man or the poorest 
 preacher in it. Nay, 1 shall endeavor to set an ex- 
 ample to my brethren of prompt and cheerful obe- 
 dience to the bishop's orders as to my sphere of 
 labor. If he says go to the rice-fields of the sea- 
 coast and preach to the negroes or to the higher 
 latitudes and preach to the mountaineers, I will go. 
 But what is to become of you? You have never 
 enjoyed three months of unbroken health since I 
 first knew you. You must bid adieu to this spa- 
 cious, peaceful country-seat, with all its sacred as- 
 sociations (we had buried two children near it) 
 and its comfortable surroundings, to follow your 
 husband to all places and all classes of people, 
 where and with whom he may be ordered to work 
 for God. How can 3^ou endure such a life, after 
 the life of ease and affluence that you have always 
 led? But, after all, it may be that I am mistaken 
 in telling my impressions for the indications of Prov- 
 idence. Let us, therefore, make it the subject of 
 prayer for one week, asking God to give us some 
 intimation of his will in this all-important matter.' 
 At the end of three days I inquired of her whether 
 she had come to any conclusion upon the subject 
 of our special petition. She said she had, and it 
 was that I ought to preach. I replied: * I am thor- 
 oughly convinced of it.' The next Sabbath found 
 me in the pulpit, a licensed Methodist preacher. 
 Here I announced that as soon as I had filled m}^ 
 obligations to my clients I would cease to practice 
 law and devote m^-self exclusively to the service of 
 God. The negroes, at least, gave audible signs of 
 rejoicing, for I had endeared myself to them by 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 6 1 
 
 having opened ancrconducted a Sabbath-school for 
 their children, which was really an improving in- 
 stitution. The Conference met at the close of the 
 year, and the bishop stationed me at Augusta, to 
 allow me an opportunity to close up my law busi- 
 ness. From the day that I entered the pulpit to 
 the day of our return home after the war, I never 
 wanted a dollar nor my wife a comfortable home. 
 *• Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteous- 
 ness^ and all these things shall he added unto you ^^ 
 saith the Lord." 
 
 It is probable that from the very hour of his con- 
 version he had been drawn toward the Christian 
 ministry. The rule seems to be that the call of the 
 Holy Spirit quickly follows conversion. It ante- 
 dates it in some cases, as some who will read these 
 pages can testify. Judge Longstreet's decision to 
 preach the gospel was probably the sequel of a proc- 
 ess begun in the soul of the young lawyer the very 
 hour when, kneeling as a penitent, he felt the touch 
 of renewing grace and rose a rejoicing convert in 
 the Church at Greensboro years before. The in- 
 terval was a period of preparation during which he 
 had tested his religion and himself. What the 
 apostle Paul did during the three years spent by 
 him in Arabia after his conversion, is left to con- 
 jecture ; all we know is that the hand of God was 
 on him. The record of this period of Longstreet's 
 life is almost as meager as that of the holy apostle, 
 but that they were preparatory for a great career 
 is equally plain. The call to preach may come at 
 any age after the arrival of the period of spiritual 
 consciousness and responsiveness ; the time to begin 
 
62 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 to preach is when the abihty to do so is attained. 
 It was no hasty impulse or whim of the moment 
 that led Longstreet to renounce his candidacy for 
 political honors and devote his life to the Christian 
 ministry. A secret but abiding impression that he 
 must preach the gospel now culminated. To his 
 ingenuous mind it was made clear that the great 
 crisis had come and he must make his choice, once 
 for all: he must be a preacher or a politician; he 
 must quench the Spirit or now yield to its leading. 
 Had he decided otherwise than he did, one of two 
 results w^ould have taken place: he would have 
 sunk to the level of the ordinary seeker of political 
 place and power, his soul hardening and shrinking 
 after the manner of such, or his life would have 
 been disturbed and impeded by the warring ele- 
 ments that divided the empire of his unhappy heart. 
 Longstreet the politician would have had a stormy 
 experience and a doubtful ending. As it was, 
 his chief est peril lay in that direction. More 
 than once during his after life there seemed to be 
 danger that he would be torn from his moorings 
 by the fierce currents of political excitement that 
 were sweeping over the nation. 
 
 But his consecration to the ministry was unre- 
 served and his decision was final. With a joyful 
 heart he presented himself for admission into the 
 ministry of the Methodist Church, and was cor- 
 dially welcomed by the Georgia Conference. 
 
 The old Georgia Conference w^as at that time a 
 notable body of men. The elder Pierce — the '* old 
 Doctor" — stood at its head. Who ever heard his 
 superior as an expository preacher? Who could 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 6^^ 
 
 SO effectively wield the whip of small cords in lash- 
 ing the follies of the world and the short-comings 
 of the saints ? Who could bombard with such tre- 
 mendous power the intrenchments of covetousness ? 
 Who could so melt the heart of a sinner or com- 
 fort the sorrowing when the occasion came and the 
 mood was on him? Then came the son, "the 
 greatest of all the great Georgians," says Judge 
 Lamar. To have heard Bishop Pierce preach in 
 his prime was like a new revelation of pulpit pos- 
 sibilities. Dignity, grace, power, unction — he 
 lacked no element of success as a preacher, no 
 quality of attractiveness as a man, no attribute req- 
 uisite to true greatness in the sphere in which he 
 moved, his chief est charm the humility caught from 
 holy companionship with the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 An early friendship grew up between him and 
 Longstreet, which was a joy and a blessing to them 
 both. They had much that was in common. In 
 a correspondence between them, brief snatches of 
 which have survived them, it is delightful to note 
 the warmth and freedom wath which they speak and 
 the exquisite humor with which their letters spark- 
 led. Bishop Pierce had a vein of rich Georgia 
 humor, refined and repressed, it is true, but often 
 breaking out delightfully in the social circle, and 
 at times flashing from the pulpit or rostrum. And 
 then there w^as Jesse Boring, whose almost un- 
 earthly eloquence had a strange power never to be 
 forgotten by him who had once felt its spell; whose 
 description of the tragedy of Calvary, the final 
 judgment, and the irreversible doom of lost souls 
 fell upon the hearers like the peals of a superter- 
 
64 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 restial trumpet or the sobbings of unspeakable pity 
 over infinite woe. His preaching was like the 
 sweep of a storm-cloud bright with electric fires 
 and resonant with the thunder's roll, followed by 
 the sun-burst and arched by the rainbow. And 
 there was Samuel Anthony, as strong and uncom- 
 promising in dealing with error or wrong as John 
 the Baptist, with a tenderness like Jeremiah's, a 
 faith like EHjah's, and a love like John's. Who that 
 ever heard him pray when his soul was in its in- 
 tensest intercessory mood and then preach one of 
 his mightiest sermons, could ever doubt that there 
 is a supernatural element in the preaching of the 
 man truly called of God to the sacred office? And 
 there was William Arnold, whose pulpit mosaics 
 of Scripture and poetr}^ of strong theology and 
 melodious song, invested his personality and his 
 ministry with such a strange fascination. Wher- 
 ever he went he preached conviction into his hear- 
 ers and sung and pra3^ed them into believing and 
 rejoicing. Blessed old evangelist! the grass has 
 grown above his grave for many a j-ear since he 
 stood before a Georgia congregation with his 
 long white hair streaming, his blue eyes swimming 
 in tears, his face aglow with the heavenly flame 
 that burned within him ; but the fragrance of his 
 holy life still abides, and the fruits of his ministr}^ 
 will never be lost. And William Parks, who feared 
 not the face of man, as strong and as true as tem- 
 pered steel, with the temperament that would have 
 made him a martyr in martyr-times, and a theology 
 that softened a rugged hero into a loving saint. 
 And John W. Glenn, blunt as honesty itself, wise 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 65 
 
 in counsel, mighty in the Scriptures, able and ready 
 when needful to use the surgeon's knife as a relig- 
 ious teacher and ecclesiastical administrator, with 
 a tinge of native humor that smoothed his way and 
 brightened all the circles he touched. And *' warm 
 John Howard," whose life was a living epistle, a 
 better demonstration of the truth of Christianity 
 than any written or printed volume could be, whose 
 memory lingers among both the white and black 
 people in Georgia as the true servant of the Lord 
 and the true friend of humanity. And Alfred T. 
 Mann, who set sound doctrinal preaching to the 
 music of a faultless rhetoric and made it glow with 
 heavenly fire. And James E. Evans, both revival- 
 ist and church-builder, a sanctified orchestra in 
 himself, whose sermons shook the strongholds of 
 Satan, and whose prayers opened the windows of 
 heaven, under whose ministry thousands of souls 
 were born unto God. And Caleb W. Key, devout, 
 musical, full of faith and the Holy Ghost; and Jo- 
 siah Lewis, original and fervent, a holy man and 
 strong; and William M. Crumley, whose face 
 seemed to have caught the reflection of that of the 
 Lord he loved, whose gentle, persuasive eloquence 
 drew many from the ways of sin to walk the high- 
 way of holiness; and Walter R. Branham, courtly 
 and saintly, the golden link that connects the Geor- 
 gia Methodism of the past with the present — these 
 and others not less worthy, if less conspicuous, 
 were Longstreet's contemporaries and co-laborers 
 in the Methodist ministry in the old Georgia Con- 
 ference, the successors of Hope Hull, Stith Mead, 
 and the other stalwart pioneers who laid the foun- 
 5 
 
66 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 dations, broad and deep, of Georgia Methodism. 
 There is no room here for all their names, but their 
 record is on high. 
 
 Longstreet's preaching partook of the character 
 of the preaching of his time. It was preaching in 
 the strictest sense of the word. He expounded the 
 Scriptures, exhorted the sinners, and comforted 
 and encouraged the saints in the style that was 
 then common to the Methodist pulpit. His train- 
 ing as a lawyer and jurist imparted exegetical 
 clearness and logical method in conducting his ar- 
 guments; his knowledge of men told him where 
 and how to strike at sin ; his knowledge of books 
 furnished ample material for historical allusion and 
 apposite illustration ; the tenderness of his nature 
 taught him how to reach the hard heart. More 
 than all this, his preaching had that undefinable 
 yet indispensable element which differentiates true 
 preaching from all other kinds of human speech: 
 the unction from the Holy One. The spiritually- 
 minded of all Christian communions know what, 
 this difference is, and recognize its presence oi 
 absence in every sermon they hear. The true 
 gospel preached by a true preacher is in demon- 
 stration of the Spirit and with power. Where this 
 power is lacking, the message is not God's, or the 
 messenger is unfaithful. Does God never bless 
 his truth when proclaimed by unworthy men ? So 
 abundant is his mercy that we may hope that he 
 does at times convey the water of life to thirsty 
 souls through such channels. St. Paul rejoiced 
 that to the Philippians Christ was preached even 
 though it was from envy or strife; but the carnal- 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 67 
 
 ly-minded, envious strife-makers wrought no won- 
 ders of gracious power such as attested the author- 
 ity of the apostles. 
 
 Longstreet was a singer, and he had a way of 
 singing a solo in the pulpit before or after preach- 
 ing, after the manner of the fathers. This exercise 
 was often very effective. The preacher, tuned for 
 the special theme that was to be presented, thus 
 put himself and his subject en raffort with his au- 
 dience, and started a current that swept them on 
 together. The solos heard in our churches now 
 are often of a widely different sort. 
 
 He was appointed to Augusta, his birthplace 
 and childhood's home, the theater of his earliest 
 professional triumphs, and the seat of the hated 
 old ''Richmond Academy," of which he always 
 thought and spoke with such hearty abhorrence. 
 
 The spirit of his ministry may be inferred from 
 the account given by himself of his pastorate in 
 that city: "In 1828 I was stationed in Augusta, 
 and happened to be the only minister in the city 
 except Mr. Barry (afterward Bishop Barry, of the 
 Roman CathoHc Church) when the yellow fever 
 appeared in Augusta for the first time in awful 
 malignity. And now in that city was exhibited a 
 spectacle which, if religious sects were not the 
 most uncompromising in their differences and the 
 most incorrigible in their errors of any people un- 
 der the sun, would be worth a thousand sermons 
 to the Church and the world in general-. Here 
 were two representatives of Churches differing 
 from each other as far as it is possible for Churches 
 to differ, acknowledging the same rule of faith, 
 
68 JUDGE LONdSTREET. 
 
 forced by a sense of duty to be co-laborers in the 
 same field of charity. Mr. Barry was untiring in 
 his attention to the sick, the dying, and the dead, 
 and I tried to be. Of course in our ministrations 
 we met every day, if not every three hours of the 
 day. At first we met with friendly salutations, 
 then with a few words of conversation, then with 
 warmer greetings and more prolonged and friend- 
 ly conversations, and finally with mutual demon- 
 strations of brotherly love which, I believe, were 
 sincere on both sides. Mr. Barry occupied a large 
 house, two spacious rooms of which — the one above 
 the other below — he turned into a hospital. It was 
 not open exclusively to Roman Catholic patients, 
 but to all, and was free to my visitations at all 
 hours. It was soon full. The maximum number 
 could have been but little if any short of fifty. 
 How could he take care of so many persons? He 
 brought up from Charleston a corps of Sisters of 
 Charity. They attended to the living, and he to 
 the dead. If the world ever produced a more 
 kind, attentive, patient, indefatigable set of nurses 
 than these, I never saw them. I am inclined to 
 think that Mr. Barry, upon one occasion, conde- 
 scended a little below the line of Roman Catholic 
 toleration in compliment to his psalm - singing 
 Methodist friend (so a Cathohc priest once called 
 us in derision, greatly to my amusement). Mr. 
 Barry, meeting me one day, said to me: ' There's 
 one of your people brought to the hospital. Will 
 you go and see him ? ' ' Yes,' said I, ' I will go right 
 away,' and we went together. He conducted me to 
 the bed of the sick man, and stood by me while I 
 
LONGSTREET THE PREACHER. 69 
 
 conversed with him. At the conclusion, I asked 
 the sick man if I should pray with him. He an- 
 swered in the affirmative. I knelt, and Barry knelt 
 with me, and at the conclusion of the prayer we 
 sent our Aniens to heaven together. Now if there 
 is a member of any Church of Christ who is not 
 tenderly and pleasantly touched with this picture, 
 he is out of his place and a disgrace to any place." 
 
 Of his manner in the pulpit the Rev. Walter R. 
 Branham says: ''In the pulpit he mingled the 
 logic, cultivated by his long practice at the bar, 
 with his ever-present tenderest pathos and wealth 
 of knowledge of men with fine effect. Although 
 calm in manner and gently persuasive in style, he 
 was not unsuccessful as a revivalist. He sung well, 
 and was given to a solo when he concluded an ex- 
 hortation, or as a preacher just before announcing 
 his text. I remember with what effect he used to 
 sing, "All is Well," or " Prepare to meet thy God," 
 (the music his own composition). I regret that 
 this habit is grown out of use. To my youthful 
 feelings the song was often more impressive than 
 the sermon.*' 
 
 These characteristics as a preacher he retained 
 to the end of his life, losing a little in vivacity and 
 energy, but gaining in depth and tenderness as age 
 grew upon him. 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 
 
 THAT Judge Longstreet should become a school- 
 master was as contrary to all natural expecta- 
 tions as it was to his own plan and purpose. A 
 man who has had a taste of the excitement of fo- 
 rensic conflict and the luxury of political triumph 
 must feel the impulse of a powerful motive or the 
 constraint of imperative obligation, or the irresist- 
 ible attraction of a native bias hitherto resisted, to 
 exchange the forum, the bench, and the halls of 
 legislation for the hard toil and grinding cares of 
 the school-room. When the Methodists of Geor- 
 gia called him to the presidency of their infant col- 
 lege, his acceptance demonstrated the complete- 
 ness of his consecration to God in the service 
 of his Church. Preferring the path of duty 
 to that of selfish ambition, without reserve or 
 delay he gave himself to the work to which he was 
 called. Doubtless the prime consideration with the 
 trustees in his election was the desire to utilize his 
 great popularity and influence in behalf of the 
 movement to lay broad and deep and strong the 
 foundations of a Christian college under the con- 
 trol of the Methodist denomination in Georgia. In 
 choosing him for this service they took some risk 
 with regard to the internal administration of the in- 
 stitution. Not every eloquent preacher makes a 
 good teacher or governor. Accurate scholarship 
 (70) 
 
AS A N ED UCA TOR. 7 1 
 
 and brilliant oratory are not always united in the 
 same, person. The genius that coruscates on the 
 platform is Hable to break down under the strain of 
 the class-room. The orator who charms the mul- 
 titude flounders and fails before his students. In- 
 numerable failures prove that the teacher is born to 
 his vocation. There was hazard both to the insti- 
 tution and to him in calling Longstreet to the pres- 
 idency of Emory College. It was known that he 
 was a genius, but it was not yet known that, versa- 
 tile as he was, the pedagogical instinct was one of 
 his gifts. But so it proved. As a teacher he did 
 the best work of his life with the most enduring 
 results. The extent of his influence cannot be 
 measured now. It affected not only the intellect- 
 ual and moral development of the students who 
 came under his influence, but their political opin- 
 ions as well. Georgia and the South would have 
 been a different Georgia and a different South 
 without him. His genius recommended his relig- 
 ion to many who would have repelled its approach 
 through a duller man. His intense State rights 
 views helped to disciple and sohdify the educated 
 inteflect of his section. His perennial wit and 
 humor, while opening the way for his appeals .to 
 the consciences and hearts of the young men he 
 taught, gave a tinge to their thought and speech 
 which they never lost and which clings to them 
 unto this day. He is the true progenitor of Joel 
 Chandler Harris, WilHam T. Thompson, Bifl Arp, 
 and Sam Jones, and of Georgia preachers like Sam 
 Jones, Simon Peter Richardson, Prof. Charles 
 Lane, and others, whose sermons are spiced with 
 
72 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 a wit whose flavor is as truly Georgian as it is in- 
 imitable. His successors in the presidency of Em- 
 ory College — Pierce, Smith, Thomas, Haygood, 
 and Candler — have all had, more or less, this same 
 vein running through their composition. Dr. 
 Means was fonder of making verses than uttering 
 witticisms, and it may be conceded that his verses 
 were not always perfect as poetry any more than 
 that their jokes always possessed the true Attic 
 salt. Lonixstreet furnished a felicitous demonstra- 
 tion that a man may possess learning without ped- 
 antry, and combine the sanctity of a saint with the 
 sparkle of a wit. Blessed is he who can maintain 
 this happy combination, whose piety does not run 
 into pietism and whose wit does not sink into 
 coarseness or buffoonery. The spirit of Long- 
 street still lingers with Emory College. A fervent 
 piety, a robust manhood, and a somewhat rollick- 
 ing yet not unrefined humor mark the college and 
 social life of Oxford, the seat of the institution. 
 The young man who leaves it misanthropic, mean, 
 unmanly, or undevout does so because of ingrained 
 and ineradicable tendencies beyond the reach of 
 human agencies and influences. 
 
 The presidency of Emory College gave the 
 many-sided Longstreet the opportunity to touch the 
 thought and movement of his time at many points. 
 Work in the school-room during the w^eek, in the 
 pulpit on Sunday, on the platform as occasion of- 
 fered, with occasional excursions into the fields of 
 literature, filled up the chinks of leisure left from 
 college duties and kept the brilliant and popular 
 lawyer and politician from sinking into mere rou- 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 73 
 
 tine pedagogy. Nor did his new relationships and 
 duties cause him to cease to feel and express a 
 lively interest in the current political issues of the 
 day. He was intensely public-spirited. The school 
 of politics to which he belonged was of the intense 
 order, and the drift of events in the direction of 
 sectional alienation and final collision was clearly 
 discerned by his acute and far-seeing mind. He 
 was of that class of public men in the South who, 
 foreseeing the dangers that threatened the country, 
 gave timely warning thereof, some of whom have 
 been most unjustly accused of hastening the catas- 
 trophe which they in their own way honestly sought 
 to avert. The epithets ' ' submissionist ' ' and ' ' fire- 
 eater " were angrily hurled at each other by good 
 men who aimed at the same result while differing 
 as to the proper policy to be pursued in attaining 
 it. Longstreet was a nuUifier, standmg with Mr. 
 Calhoun on this extreme State rights doctrine 
 against the official head of the Democratic party 
 for the time being. The attitude of the young 
 men of Georgia toward such questions during the 
 decades immediately following reveal the extent of 
 his influence. Among his pupils in political ideas 
 was his nephew, Gen. James Longstreet, whose 
 name is mentioned in another chapter of this book 
 and who did such hard fighting for the maintenance 
 of the theories of government that were so ably up- 
 held by the tongues and pens of the great ante bel- 
 hun Southern leaders, but which were trodden un- 
 der foot by the victors in the conflict of arms that 
 opened in i86r. 
 
 Judge Longstreet entered upon the duties of 
 
74 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 President of Emory College in 1840, and delivered 
 his " Inaugural Address " February 10 of that year. 
 This address will be found in the next chapter. It 
 is here printed in full for the reason that it throws 
 li<rhton the man and the times. The reader of to- 
 day will be interested and amused, if not convinced, 
 by his argument in favor of the manual labor feat- 
 ure of the college course. He would have been 
 more interested, though not so much amused, per- 
 haps, had he been a recipient of its peculiar ad- 
 vantages as a pupil of the college under that regime. 
 It may now be considered a little singular that this 
 craze for manual labor in colleges should have 
 broken out at that time in the South. But no one 
 who knew the old South as it was will share in this 
 surprise. Honorable labor, especially agricultural 
 labor, never was despised by educated and re- 
 spectable people in the South. Of course there 
 was snobbery in the South, as there is everywhere 
 else where families attain to sudden riches. The 
 cit}^ loafer, son of a rich tradesman in New York 
 or Philadelphia, and the idle and dissolute son of a 
 mill-owner or rich mechanic in a New England 
 manufacturing town, had his counterpart in the 
 dissipated son of a rich planter here and there, for 
 folly is confined to no class or section ; but it was 
 no uncommon thing for the sons of the owner of 
 scores of slaves to wield the ax, the plow, and the 
 hoe alongside the black field-hands from day to 
 day. The white owner of a small farm tilled by 
 his own hands, assisted by his sons, had as much 
 self-respect, was as independent in spirit, held to 
 his convictions as firmly, and was as quick to re- 
 
^6^ AN EDUCATOR. 
 
 75 
 
 sent an insult as his wealthy neighbor who was the 
 owner of a hundred negroes. There was an ele- 
 ment scattered throughout the South, larger in 
 some localities and smaller in others, called "tack- 
 ies" and " crackers" by the whites and " po' white 
 trash " by the negroes, who were despised by both 
 races, not so much for their poverty as for their 
 ignorance and want of self-respect, lacking the in- 
 telligence and courage of the one race and the 
 docility and good humor of the other. Nowhere 
 on earth was a well-behaved, self-respecting white 
 man, whether rich or poor, more respected than in 
 the old South. Its aristocracy was mainly one of 
 character and color, and less an aristocracy of mere 
 money than that of any other people equally opu- 
 lent known to history. Longstreet's argument in 
 behalf of manual labor in colleges is illustrated by 
 reference to the names of Gilmer, McDuffie, Le- 
 gare, Crawford, Calhoun, and Cobb, who were his 
 fellow-students or co-disciples in the famous Wil- 
 lington Academy. The S3^stem broke down in the 
 South and elsewhere. Why it did so is a ques- 
 tion left to be answered by him whose wisdom is 
 equal to the task. 
 
 What is said by Judge Longstreet with regard to 
 the youthful follies vulgarly denominated *' the 
 tricks of college boys" is worth reprinting now 
 after the lapse of half a centur3\ 
 
 Inaugural Address. — Emory College, Febru- 
 ary lo, 1840. 
 
 In this address Longstreet, the school-master of 
 fifty years ago, speaks for himself and his times. 
 
^6 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 The reader will give him kindly attention and be 
 rewarded for so doing. The oration has the state- 
 ly swing of the old times, and breathes a spirit so 
 lofty and glows with a fervor so genuine that it is 
 like opening a window through which we can see 
 the brain and heart of its author: 
 
 In taking the place which has been assigned to me in this in- 
 stitution, I beg leave to re-assure the Trustees that I still enter- 
 tain the sentiments that I expressed to them Avhen I received 
 the first notice of my appointment; and that the time which has 
 intervened has rather consecrated than changed them. A few 
 more words to them and their charge, and then to the duties 
 which they have devolved upon me. 
 
 If, in choosing the first ofticer of their infant seminary, their 
 aim was to place at its head one whose highest ambition is to be 
 useful here and happy hereafter; whose text-book in morals is 
 the Bible, and whose lessons in physics all begin and end with 
 its author; who cannot entertain a thought or sentiment adverse 
 to the interest of Georgia without violating that law of man's 
 nature which binds him to the soil of his birth; whose patriot- 
 ism glows brightest and warmest on the spot where it was en- 
 kindled, and radiates thence to the whole circumference of the 
 Union; who considers the guardianship of youth as the most 
 important, honorable, and sacred trust that can be confided to 
 man in any country, but especially in this; always delegated, 
 and ever to be received under the implied understanding that 
 its duties are to be discharged in strict subservience to the rviles 
 of parental government — if it was the aim of the Trustees to place 
 such an one at the head of this institution, then, in justice to 
 them, however vain it may seem in myself, I venture to assert 
 that they could not have made a better choice. 
 
 But if it was their design to place here one who with my rev- 
 erence for Holy \Vrit, combines the best, or even extraordinary 
 powers for enforcing its precepts upon the hearts and under- 
 standings of men; who, with my regard for the interests of 
 Georgia, unites the best gifts for jiromoting those interests ; who, 
 with my views of the nature and duties of this office, commands 
 the erudition which is likely to give it luster or to insure the 
 discharge of those duties in a manner satisfactory even to the 
 incumbent itself — then, in justice to candor, however humil- 
 iating it may be to myself, I am constrained to acknowledge 
 that their choice has been unfortunate; and of my sincerity here 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 77 
 
 I would give unquestionable proof by immediately resigning 
 'mj post did I believe that I had passed the age of improvement 
 or that I am wanting in the industry and capacity necessary to 
 insure it. It is true that while in the pursuit of the profession 
 which I have just renounced I was not wholly inattentive to 
 those sciences which it is the province of this institution to dis- 
 pense; but I addressed myself to them as an amateur, or as a 
 penitent for misspent time in the golden hours of my collegiate 
 life, and not as a preceptor or professor. If therefore I should 
 be found at fault in any of them, I bespeak the indulgence of 
 my directors, my colleagues, and my pupils until time shall 
 have been allowed me to renew and to improve my acquaintance 
 with them. 
 
 I have cause for self-congratulation at being called by the 
 Trustees to the high and honorable post which I occupy, and 
 they have cause for self-congratulation that they hold a post so 
 high and honorable at their disposal; but there is a ground of 
 congratulation brought naturally in view from my position, 
 upon which we all can meet, and where all who regard the in- 
 terest and honor of the State will meet with us. It is that this 
 is but one of four kindred institutions which have risen up in 
 Georgia within a very few years past, and almost all by private 
 munificence alone. They argue well for the spirit of the age, 
 and augur well for ages to come. They foretell that the day is 
 not far distant when we shall be no longer under the necessity 
 of importing our preceptors, our engineers, our geologists, our 
 every thing that demands proficiency in science. They foretell 
 that the day is not far distant when Georgia will contribute 
 something to the vast stores of literature with which Europe is 
 astonishing, enlightening, and blessing the world. I confess 
 that I have often felt my national pride stung by a comparison 
 of the Old and New Worlds in point of intellectual advance- 
 ment. And when I reduce the comparison to England, France, 
 and Germany on the one hand and the Southern States on the 
 other, I have felt humbled under a sense of their vast superi- 
 ority over us. True, they have advantages in their long estab- 
 lished and well-endowed universities, their extensive libraries, 
 their ready access to the relics of ancient literature and art, their 
 hereditary fortunes, their dense population, and their constant 
 intercourse with all parts of the world, which must for centuries, 
 if not forever, keep them ahead of us in manj^ departments of 
 science. But there are some in which they lead us wherein 
 they derive no aid from those auxiliaries, and others wherein the 
 advantage is on ovir side. We have no apology for the distance 
 at which we are in the rear of them in the exact sciences in 
 
yS JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 chemistry, botany, natural history, geology, and in works of 
 imagination and taste, Sonie of these depend upon prineiples 
 accessible to all, and others upon nothing more than close at- 
 tention to the great volume of nature that lies open before us. 
 If all that is grand, beautiful, picturesque, or curious in that 
 spacious volume could have induced us to study it, the South- 
 ern States should have been among the foremost in some of 
 those sciences, and Georgia shovild have been abreast with the 
 foremost of the Southern States. But it is a lamentable truth 
 that, in the sixty years of her independence, she has not shed a 
 gleam of light upon any one of them. There is a still more lam- 
 entable truth in reserve, which it is no longer a virtue to con- 
 ceal. It is that some of her sons (if soiia they may be called) 
 harbor a deadly hostility to all that savors of moral or mental 
 improvement in the country. Our university, to which we are 
 now indebted for nearly all that is valuable in the council of the 
 State, creditable on the bench, or noble in enterprise, they would 
 have strangled at its birth, and, having failed of their purpose, 
 they would now perish it by withholding from it its needful sus- 
 tenance. I speak not here of those who oppose appropriations 
 to this institution because like favors are not extended to all of a 
 like character, though I cannot understand why that which is 
 confessedly a State institution should be denied the assistance 
 of the State upon such a ground — this is to cripple a friend 
 because other friends are crippled — but I speak of those who 
 oppose all colleges upon the ground that they are useless. They 
 can scarcely touch a household or farming utensil that is not 
 directly or indirectly a trophy of science. They cannot know 
 the boundaries or contents of their own lands without it, and 
 yet they are ever exclaiming: "What good has education ever 
 done?" They will s-..eep over a space of a hundred and fifty 
 miles in a day, with the product of their whole ^-ear's labor by 
 their sides, vend it at the best market on the sea-board, and re- 
 turn with its proceeds to their hon->es in the same time, and all 
 the way exclaim : " What good has education ever done? " They 
 will see their invaluable staple scudding down three hundred 
 miles' length of river, enter the ocean, shoot across the wide 
 Atlantic, undergo a magic transformation, and return to them 
 in beautiful and useful fabrics — all in the space of a few short 
 months, and all with the exertion of little more physical power 
 than a child could command; and all the time they will exclaim: 
 "What good has education ever done?" They will take the 
 seven-penny calendar from their fireside, read with pleasure 
 the date of the coming comet or eclipse, and witness their return 
 with delight— phenomena that a few centuries back filled the 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 79 
 
 world with alarm and made piety ridiculous — and all the time 
 they will exclaim: " What good has education ever done? " 
 
 To reason with such beings is to abuse the high prerogative 
 of reason; to crouch to them and fawn upon them, as we have 
 been in the habit of doing from fear of their wrath against our 
 beloved institutions, is to inspire madness with confidence, and 
 place a sword in its hand to destroy us. I have only to say to 
 them (and there is neither irony nor satire in the remark) that if 
 they verily believe that ignorance is a virtue and intelligence a 
 vice, they should remove to the land of the Hottentots or make 
 schools of their kitchens. Their infatuation would be a matter 
 of but little moment, were it not for its indirect effects upon the 
 march of mind. But some of these men have children of splen- 
 did native endowments — endowments which, with proper cult- 
 ure and under a proper direction, would make them lights of 
 the world, the pride of their country, the glory of their State, 
 the boast of their parents ; but their light is shrouded in their 
 father's darkness, and it is either never seen or seen only in oc- 
 casional flashes of grog-shop wit or in miserable prostitution in 
 the sharper's keenness. This aspect of the evil turns indigna- 
 tion into sadness and contempt into grief. 
 
 But whatever may have been the influence of these cham- 
 pions of ignorance in times past, they are now harmless except 
 to their own progeny. A race of better spirits has risen up, 
 who perceive that all that is dear to the Christian, the philan- 
 thropist, the patriot, and the statesman is involved in the moral 
 and intellectual improvement of the people. Accordingly, we 
 see them from their own resources erecting schools and col- 
 leges in all quarters of the State; and, what is equally gratify- 
 ing, we see some of the most promising young men of the State, 
 and the sons of some of the most distinguished men of the State, 
 taking places in these institutions as preceptors. I rejoice with 
 joy unspeakable at this state of things. I rejoice that the gifted 
 sons of the soil begin to discover that there are other and more 
 useful fields of labor for talent at this time than the forum or 
 Senate-house. I rejoice that I have lived to see the dawn, or 
 rather the return, of that patriotism which looks to the perma- 
 nent good of the country more than to the momentary triumph 
 of a party, which prefers the chaplet that a grateful posterity 
 weaves around their benefactor's shrine to the brightest garland 
 that withers with the wearer's cheek and is buried in the wear- 
 er's grave. In hoary old age, it is lovely; in youth's vigor and 
 ambition's noonday, it is morally sublime. ' 
 
 If the people will but sustain these institutions until they can 
 sustain themselves, and the rising genius of the State will shed 
 
8o JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 their light upon them, I venture the prediction that in less than 
 twenty jcars hence Georgia will be one of the most richly 
 adorned of the whole sisterhood of the States. But if the gen- 
 erosity which produced them is to spend itself in one short gust, 
 and they are to be left to wither away and die, far better that 
 they had never been thought of. They will be viewed not mere- 
 ly as sad memorials of the fickleness of the age, but as ridicu- 
 lous monuments of the knight-errantry of the age. Specters 
 will be conjured up from their deserted chambers to alarm the 
 patrons of science from the first movement in their sacred of- 
 fice; avarice will retreat behind their walls from the im- 
 portunities of benevolence, and ignorance will point to them in 
 triumph as veritable fulfillments of her malignant prophecies. 
 If there be not public spirit enough in the land to sustain them, 
 I trust an overruling Providence will inspire it. If the means be 
 wanting, I trust that a beneficent Providence will grant them. 
 
 Gentlemen of the Faculty, could any thing quiet the anxiety 
 and remove the self-distrust which I feel in entering upon the 
 duties of my appointment, it would be the close fellowship into 
 which it brings me with you. We are no strangers to each 
 other; our hearts were draw^n together by the ties of a common 
 faith long before we met in person, and they have been more 
 closely united by repeated intercourse, social and sacred, since. 
 They are now, I flatter myself, to be indissolubly cemented by 
 feelings, views, pursuits, and interests which are in all respects 
 identical. In such a fraternity nothing is to be feared from pre- 
 rogative on the one hand or disaffection on the other. As you 
 have been tried and approved in your ofiices and I have not in 
 mine, as you have the advantage of experience in instruction 
 and I have not, it becomes me to wait your views upon our com- 
 mon duties before I offer mine. I have therefore only to say 
 that as I have been placed headmost in position you shall find 
 me foremost in meeting the responsibilities that may attach to a 
 faithful discharge of those duties. 
 
 Young gentlemen, if the concurring testimony of all whom 
 I have heard speak of you from personal observation is to be 
 credited, no preceptor ever had better reason to be proud of his 
 charge than I have. Your morality, your industry, your stabil- 
 ity, your cheerful submission to all the rules of the institution 
 are everywhere spoken of in terms of the highest praise. If I 
 had been permitted to demand the surest guaranty of the suc- 
 cess of our infant seminary that I could have conceived of, I 
 should have said: " Let my four first classes fulfill the description 
 that has been given of you." The first classes of a college gives 
 it its first and most important character, and each succeeding 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 8l 
 
 class feels itself in a measure the fiduciary of that character. 
 Men usually regard a trust as more sacred than their own prop- 
 erty, and accordingly we sometimes see them prodigal of their 
 own and careful ot another's, but we rarely see them squander- 
 ing both at the same time. Thereisanother principle of human 
 nature which is turned to good account by good example. Those 
 who care but little at being thought vicious are commonly ex- 
 tremel}^ averse to being thought more vicious than their com- 
 panions. In other words, vice hates unfriendly comparisons 
 more than it does its own deformity. Hence we seldom see it 
 treading immediately upon the heels of virtue. It is only in 
 times of tumult and excitement, when public attention is dis- 
 tracted, that it ventures to take the seat which virtue has just 
 vacated. It is easy, too, to heal a diseased member when the 
 whole body is sound, but almost impossible to heal the body that 
 is diseased throughout. These considerations, with others which 
 I have not time to suggest, made me extremely anxious that my 
 first classes should be of the character which you so honorably 
 bear. By yowx regard for your Alma Mater^ your preceptors, 
 your country, your parents, but most of all, yourselves, I con- 
 jure you to maintain it! We are upon a well-aimed expedient, 
 young gentlemen, the success or failure of which will depend 
 mainly upon yourselves. It is to unite mental and manual la- 
 bor in indissoluble bonds and to consecrate the union with the 
 spotless robes of piety ; to elevate manual labor to its legitimate 
 rank by blending it with mental endowments which shall com- 
 mand iox it respect; to strengthen and invigorate the body, the 
 better to endure tne waste of mind in its most restless pursuits; 
 to raise up a race of men who shall be fitted for the pulpit or the 
 plow, the court or the camp, the Senate or the shop — who, like 
 one of 3^our professors, shall be able to live, and to live reputably 
 and usefully, on the banks of the Rhine or the banks of the Al- 
 covi; to form an American, or at least a Georgian character, 
 which shall combine all that is useful and brilliant on the other 
 side of the water with all that is sacred and generous on this. 
 Such is our system of education, and such are its aims. I am 
 told that it has failed in other latitudes where it has been tried, 
 and that it is now generally considered impracticable. I rejoice 
 that I am placed where I can daily mark its operation. I desire 
 to know why it is that a system which is so beautiful in theory 
 should be abortive in practice. The defect cannot be in the sys- 
 tem. I defy the most subtle ingenuity to give a plausible rea- 
 son why the youth who turns the sod two hours to-day may not 
 turn the classic page four hours to-morrow. For more than 
 three years of my pupilage nearly all the fuel that was consumed 
 6 
 
82 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ujion niy hearth -was cut from the wopds by my room-mates and 
 myself and borne a fatiguing distance to our door. Nor were 
 we chary of our stores; but ^^ligna super foco large repo- 
 7ieusy We often followed four hours' toil in this way by five 
 hours' studj' on the same evening. What was my lot was the lot 
 of a hundred and sixty more, among whom were a Gilmer, a 
 McDurtie, and a Legarc; and these were successors in school 
 and, for aught I know, in toil of a Crawford, a Calhoun, a Cobb, 
 and manv other distinguished sons of the South. It did not oc- 
 cur to us' that the exercise of our limbs impaired the faculties of 
 our minds. I repeat it, the fault cannot be in the system; it 
 must be in parents, preceptors, or pupils; and there can be no 
 difficulty in giving it its proper location, if a very generally re- 
 ceived opinion be true — namely, "that the manual labor system 
 will do very well for schools, but will not do for colleges." If 
 so, the conclusion is inevitable that manual labor will not do for 
 colleges becavise collegians will not do manual labor. Schools 
 and colleges are 'composed of precisely the same individuals, 
 changed only in age and size. Why can they pass creditably 
 through the school, and not continue their onward course through 
 college.'' There is but onq^^ answer to this question, and it is so 
 discreditable to the youth of the country that I know not wheth- 
 er I would give it if it had any application to those whom I am 
 addressing. It is this: that the discipline of the first is addressed 
 to the phj'sical, and of the last to the moral sensibilities of the 
 student; it succeeds in the one case because he must bear and 
 stay, and fails in the other because he will not bear and goes 
 away. Can it be possible that just at that point of time Avhen 
 the student begins to see the true end and aim of college duties 
 and exercises, when his own enlightened understanding should 
 supersede all discipline, when verging upon man's estate he 
 should assume the port and bearing of a man, when coming 
 upon the confines of a busy world he sees over all its broad sur- 
 face industry rewarded and indolence despised, can it be possi- 
 ble that he will forfeit his high privileges, wound his parents, 
 and abuse himself rather than perform a short service of health- 
 ful, useful, instructive bodily labor.? Such fatuity can be ac- 
 counted for only upon the supposition that one of the first con- 
 ceptions of manhood in this country is that it is disgraceful to 
 labor. I know that this opinion is to be found in some older 
 heads than are to be found in college classes; but from the birth 
 of Cincinnatus to the death of Washington I never heard of the 
 truly wise republican who harbored it even for a moment. No, 
 young gentlemen, it is an exotic imported hither from the land 
 where rank comes by chance, dignity by blood, and fortune by 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 83 
 
 law. It maj be harmless in its indigenous soil ; but here it is the 
 upas, and by as much as we propagate it by so much do we 
 spread moral and political death through the land. I stop not 
 to give examples of its influence, though I hold many at com- 
 mand, deduced chiefly from our larger cities, where it prevails 
 most. I turn not aside to trace it to its many disastrous conse- 
 quences, but I ask can any thing be more dangerously absurd 
 than to disperse the father's property at his death and then teach 
 his children that it is disgraceful to labor.'* Consider the ques- 
 tion, young gentlemen, and when you are so doing remember 
 that you are in a country whose besetting sin is idolatry of 
 wealth, and the youngest of you will perceive and admit the 
 soundness of my views upon the subject. We believe that 
 for great achievements in the scientiflc world the artisan and the 
 scholar must meet, and often meet in the same person. The 
 distinction which has been kept up between them has retarded 
 the march of mind for centuries. To the accidental union of 
 them in Galileo are we indebted for nearly all that we know of 
 the stupendous worlds that wheel around us. He opened the 
 way for a mighty Newton's march, and for a host of followers 
 who have extended his researches and improved his discoveries. 
 Had the first been wanting in mechanical skill, he and his brill- 
 iant successors might have died unknown, or have been known 
 onlv as infants in the field where they figured as giants. But 
 Galileo owed his fairest fame to a spectacle-maker, and he his to 
 an observant boy. Had the parents of that mechanic been too 
 proud to bind him to a trade, or the parents of that boy been too 
 proud to have placed him with a mechanic, M^e might now be 
 beating drums to frighten away an eclipse, or sacrificing heca- 
 tombs to appease the wrath of a comet. What was Fulton's 
 genius unassisted by Fulton's hands.? Are you more indebted 
 to the author whom you study than to the mechanic who makes 
 easy his principles and impresses them permanently upon the 
 memory by sensible illustrations.? Are you more indebted to the 
 geometrician than you are to the manufacturer of the theodolite 
 or compass. The invaluable quadrant of Godfrey— I say God- 
 frey for he deserves, though Hadley has gained, the credit of it— 
 the quadrant is but a practical application of one of Euclid's 
 theorems; but which has benefited the world most, the demon- 
 strator of the one or the inventor of the other? And what were 
 all of them together without the husbandman ? In truth, almost 
 all that is grand or useful in the arts and sciences has been from 
 the accidental combination "of learning with mechanical skill; 
 and when we consider how often and how long they have been 
 divorced by the senseless decrees of public opinion, we may safe- 
 
84 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Iv conclude that even now we know nothing in comparison with 
 what we would have known had thej always been closely united 
 and equally respected. Away, then, with those worse than idle 
 distinctions between trades and professions! Let it have no 
 place in this country at least, until we learn to live without 
 houses, clothes, or food. 
 
 Do not suppose, young gentlemen, that I am taxing my in- 
 genuity for arguments to reconcile you to a life of useless 
 drudgery. You cannot entertain such an idea without doing in- 
 justice both to your teachers and your parents. We are but 
 their servants; they are our acquaintances, our friends, our 
 brethren. They place, you here with a full knowledge of the 
 duties which you have to perform and in the expectation that 
 you will be required to perform them. We gain nothing by a 
 faithful discharge of those duties on your part but the satisfac- 
 tion which arises from a consciousness of fidelity to our trust. 
 If thev result in all the advantages to you that we can anticipate, 
 our reward Avill only be the gleam that comes by reflection from 
 vour renown. It is impossible, therefore, that we can desire, 
 much less delight in your mortification or fatigue. The best 
 heads in the land perceive that to fulfill the high destiny which 
 our forefathers marked out for us we must be an intelligent, 
 moral, industrious people. The system of education adopted in 
 this college is directed to these three grand objects; and accord- 
 ingly, from the time that our disciples enter the preparatory 
 school to the time when they take leave of the college halls, 
 they must bear this text upon their phyacteries: Exercise of 
 
 HEAD, HEART, AND HAND — OXE AND INSEPARABLE! W^hilc they 
 
 retain their ensign, Ave cherish and esteem them ; when they doff 
 it, we bid them a final but sorrowing adieu. But ever remem- 
 ber, young gentlemen, that though your interest is much more 
 deeply involved in the discipline to which we subject you than 
 ours, even your interest is not its primary aim, but your coun- 
 try's. In one man, already named, the virtues just alluded to 
 twice saved his country; and they may do no less in you. Nay, 
 a voice from the capital which is incessantly ringing in mine 
 ear reminds me that in 3'ou they may perform far nobler serv- 
 ices than they did in Cincinnatus — that they may not only save 
 your country from her enemies, but save your household friends 
 from vour country. If thev do not this much they may, and 
 probably will, retard the ruin of your country. But if even to 
 this extent they prove unavailing — if the ^•ices which overthrew 
 the republics of antiquity, assisted as they are likely to be in 
 vour day by the angry elements that are gathering around your 
 sacred homes, should entirely overpower you, they will at least 
 
AS AN ED UCA TOR. 85 
 
 exhibit you in the closing scene of American glory and grand- 
 eur in an aspect as sublime as the eagle on the storm that rides 
 in proud defiance before the blast that he cannot resist and 
 strikes with strong wing the tempest that hurries him away. 
 
 I have dwelt thus long and thus earnestly upon the distinct- 
 ive feature in our discipline because I believe it to be a most 
 important feature, and because I believe you can, if you will, 
 preserve it. In conclusion of this branch of my subject permit 
 me to say that if when you shall have reached the meridian of 
 life any one of you having a reputable standing in the commu- 
 nity shall complain of the toil to which we now subject you, I 
 venture in the name of the Faculty to solicit him to write "T^v- 
 rayiV' upon their tombs, and " Tyrant of Tyrants'' on the tomb 
 of your speaker, and let no man efface the inscription. 
 
 A few remarks upon a subject of deep interest to yourselves 
 and to me, and I will have done. The man lives not who more 
 earnestly desires the success of the literary institutions of the 
 State than I do; but censoriousness itself will excuse me now 
 for having one favorite. I desire that it may rank with the first, 
 if it may not be the first in rank. It is with you to say whether 
 my wish shall be gratified or not, and you may make the decis- 
 ion before you leave your seats. It will be made when you re- 
 solve unchangeably that you will not defame the institution by 
 those youthful follies which are vulgarly denominated "the 
 tricks of college boys." " College hoys'' sounds to my ear like 
 " veteran babes"— ih.Q " tricks of college boys " like the " follies of 
 profound wisdom." College is not the place for hoys, nor are 
 collegians the characters for tricks; and yet it must be confessed 
 that there are some in all colleges who"^ fulfill this paradoxical 
 description; and so doing, they spread more pestilence among 
 their companions, interrupt the harmony that would naturally 
 subsist between preceptor and pupil, and sully their own fame, 
 perhaps forever. When they cannot find accessories among 
 their fellows, they obtrude their delinquencies upon the notice 
 of their more sober and studious companions, and thus involve 
 them in the painful, tantalizing alternative of becoming inform- 
 ers or of being unjustlv suspected. This consideration alone 
 should deter every student who has a spark of magnanimity in his 
 composition from a breach of college rules, or at least from vio- 
 lating them in the presence of those who will not become accom- 
 plices. But he w^ho has not self-respect enough to abstain from 
 evil has rarely magnanimity enough to confess it even to save the 
 honor of his friend. And what are those delinquencies which are 
 followed bv these and often by worse consequences? Such as in 
 nine cases" out of ten are as barren of interest to the perpetrator 
 
86 yVDdE LONGS TREE T. 
 
 as thcv arc annovin<^ to all connected with him. Such as the 
 vilest character that ever disgraced a college would not commit 
 if he would but seriously ask himself the question beforehand: 
 "What gratification do I promise myself from this perilous ad- 
 venture?" I have seen a rrj/<7'?V of college rebels just returned 
 from one of their midnight achievements. They laughed tri- 
 umphantly , and the arch-felon loudest of all; but one with half 
 an eve might have seen that his mirth was forced, and theirs 
 was hypocrisy scarcely veiled. He was prodigal of his wit and 
 garrulous beyond measure, and his companions gave him a 
 cold word or sickly smile of approbation ; but a child might have 
 discovered that all this was but the struggle of the lips with the 
 counsels of the heart. What resistless spell was upon them that 
 they should sin without the pleasure of sin? Perhaps at that 
 moment the father of the arch-offender, after having trimmed 
 again and again the midnight lamp in order to give his son a 
 liberal education, had bowed himself in prayer and with a de- 
 votion warmed by a father's love was imploring God's bless- 
 ing upon his far distant son, while his bosom friend at his side 
 embalmed the petition in her tears. O had the arm of the Om- 
 nipotent whom they were addressing just then drawn aside the 
 veil that hid their son from their eyes, how quick would their 
 devotion have been drowned in a shriek of horror and despair! 
 Young gentlemen, let the foible of which I have been speaking 
 have no place in this institution. Assvime a moral dignity in 
 keeping with your age and your position. Let not those heads 
 of families who have gathered round this fountain of science 
 in order that their sons may enjoy its benefits, Avho offer sus- 
 tenance to your bodies while you are enriching your minds, 
 who will welcome yovi to their habitations as friends and to a 
 seat in their affections as brethren if you will permit them to 
 do so — let them not have reason to dread you as marauders oi' 
 recoil from you as vipers. Finally, if you would be all that 
 your parents, your preceptors, and your friends could desire; if 
 you would honor yourselves, your covmtry, and this institution, 
 regulate your conduct by the code divine. This will lead 
 you creditably through college, usher you reputably into the 
 world, bear you triumphantly through its collisions, and cheer 
 the hour of your departure from it. That hour may be much 
 ni'urer the present th;m von suppose. There is a ruthless lJ)e- 
 stroyer that e\rr besets the pathway of life. He sometimes 
 steps between tlie cradle and the school, the school and the col- 
 lege, the college and the Avorld. At some period of time all 
 must meet him, and all who meet him fall before his imsparing 
 arm. Those whom he strikes fall and are fore^■er falling, or 
 
AS AN EDUCATOR. 87 
 
 rise again and are forever rising. He may, therefore, be the 
 worst foe or the best friend of man ; and he is the one or the 
 other according to the character against which he raises his fatal 
 shaft. How important is it then that all, both young and old, 
 take heed lest they should be surprised in an unfortunate char- 
 acter by this deadly foe! But potent and implacable as he is, 
 he was once conquered; and the Victor bequeathed the spoils of 
 victory to all the sons of Adam, upon the simple condition that 
 they take upon them his yoke, which is easy, and his burden, 
 which is light. This done, and his rewards are for every woe, a 
 balm for every wound in this life, and life and joy and peace 
 eternal in the world to come. There may I be permitted to 
 meet you, and in transport to exclaim: " Here am I, Lord, and 
 the children whom thou hast given me! " 
 
LONGSTREET THE HUMORIST. 
 
 IT would have jarred upon Judge Longstreet's 
 feeling had he been told while living that he 
 would be most widely known and remembered 
 longest by his " Georgian Scenes." Later in life 
 he spoke of that volume as a mere bagatelle^ the 
 pastime of more youthful days. He thought he had 
 outgrown it, or grown away from it, but the vein 
 of its humor runs through all the writings of his 
 life, barely traceable in some places and boldly de- 
 fined in others. The fidelity of these sketches to 
 nature is recognized by every reader who has any 
 knowledge of the people and time of whom and 
 of which he wrote. Many of them are coarse: 
 they would have been untrue to life had they been 
 otherwise. They are tinged with profanity; the 
 skill of the sketcher is seen in the fact that it is 
 only a tinge that hints at a profaneness of speech 
 among reputable people now scarcely credible. On 
 their first appearance they were recognized as mas- 
 ter-pieces of their kind, and thousands of Georgia 
 homes re-echoed with the mirth they provoked. 
 The sketches were written at an age when all en- 
 joyment is most intense, and the intense zest of the 
 writer is caught by the reader. In such sketches 
 as '*The Horse Swap," ''The Gander PuUing,"' 
 and "The Shooting Match "' you almost hear the 
 laughter of the crowd at the broader passages of 
 
 rss) 
 
LONGSTREET THE HUMORIST. 89 
 
 coarse, rollicking fun, while you see the smile that 
 plays over the features of the author in the lighter 
 and subtler touches that now and then give a spe- 
 cial charm to his page. True humor is never whol- 
 ly separated from genuine pathos, and there are 
 pathetic touches in "Georgia Scenes " that go 
 straight to the heart. 
 
 The dialect is perfectly rendered — a dialect that 
 yet lingers in some parts of rural Georgia. The 
 dialogue exhibits the perfect art that conceals art. 
 The dramatic instinct was possessed by Judge 
 Longstreet in no small degree. Every character 
 he sketches is consistent with itself. 
 
 If asked why the " Georgia Scenes" have not 
 been more widely known, it might be hard to give 
 a satisfactory answer. Is it because of their intense 
 provincialism ? That these sketches have seeming- 
 ly lost ground even in Georgia and the South will 
 be difficult of explanation to all who have enjoyed 
 the pleasure of reading them. A partial explana- 
 tion may be found in the fact that the types por- 
 trayed in them are vanishing ones. This may be 
 saying indirectly that they lack the quality that 
 makes them akin to all humanity, and which is 
 stamped only upon the creations of genius of the 
 very highest order. This may be so, but it is safe 
 to predict that the ''Georgia Scenes" w^ill be 
 laughed over in the homes of our people long after 
 many a more pretentious book now popular shall 
 have sunk beneath the sluggish waters of the sea 
 of oblivion. 
 
 A scene in the United States House of Repre- 
 sentatives during a long and bitter sectional debate 
 
go yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 that followed the Civil War may be given here by 
 way of illustration. Upon one occasion the Dem- 
 ocratic members of the House had determined to 
 remain silent in a discussion full of the material of 
 party passion and sectional resentments, which 
 they did not wish stirred up. A distinguished 
 Republican member from a North-eastern State 
 made a violent and inflammatory assault upon the 
 Democratic members, taunting them with a cow- 
 ardly silence, in his frenzy of excitement pacing 
 the aisle and shaking his fists at the Democrats, 
 challenging them to come out and show their col- 
 ors, and make a fight for the position they occu- 
 pied. Mr. S. S. Cox, of New York, asked if he 
 could interrupt the gentleman for a few moments. 
 '* With great pleasure; I will be glad to hear 
 from you," replied the infuriated orator. Mr. 
 Cox sent up to the clerk's desk a volume of Long- 
 street's ** Georgia Scenes," with the request that 
 he would read from the page marked. The clerk 
 read "The Lincolnton Rehearsal" amid the most 
 tumultuous laughter and applause, in w^hich the 
 whole body. Democrats and Republicans alike, 
 united. This sketch is given here: 
 
 A Lincoln County Rehearsal. 
 
 If my memory fail me not, the loth of June, 1809, 
 found me, at about 11 o'clock in the forenoon, as- 
 cending a long and gentle slope in what was called 
 the " Dark Corner" of Lincoln. T believe it took 
 its name from the moral darkness which reigned 
 over that portion of the county at the time of which 
 I am speaking. If in this point of view it was but 
 
LONGSTREET THE HUMORIST. 91 
 
 a shade darker than the rest of the county, it was 
 inconceivably dark. If any man can name a trick 
 or sin which had not been committed at the time 
 of which I am speaking, in the very focus of all 
 the county's illumination (Lincolnton), he must 
 himself be the most inventive of the tricky and the 
 very Judas of sinners. Since that time, however 
 (all humor aside), Lincoln has become a living 
 proof "that light shineth in darkness." Could I 
 venture to mingle the solemn with the ludicrous, 
 even for the purposes of honorable contrast, I could 
 adduce from this county instances of the most nu- 
 merous and wonderful transitions from vice and 
 folly to virtue and holiness which have ever, per- 
 haps, been witnessed since the days of the apostolic 
 ministry. So much, lest jt should be thought by 
 some that what I am about to relate is characteristic 
 of the county in which it occurred. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the moral condition of 
 the "Dark Corner" at the time just mentioned, 
 its natural condition was any thing but dark. It 
 smiled in all the charms of spring; and spring bor- 
 rowed a new charm from its undulating grounds, 
 its luxuriant woodlands, its sportive streams, its 
 vocal birds, and its blushing flowers. 
 
 Rapt with the enchantment of the season and 
 the scenery around me, I was slowly rising the 
 slope when I was startled by loud, profane, and 
 boisterous voices which seemed to proceed from a 
 thick covert of undergrowth about two hundred 
 yards in advance of me and about one hundred 
 to the right of my road. 
 
 "You kin, kin you?" 
 
92 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 " Yes, I kin, and am able to do it I Boo-oo-oo ! 
 O, wake snakes, and walk your chalks! Brim- 
 stone and lire 1 Don't hold me, Nick Sto- 
 
 vall! The fight's made up, and let's go at it. 
 
 my soul if I don't jump down his throat and 
 
 gallop every chitterling out of him before you can 
 say ' quit! ' " 
 
 "*' Now, Nick, don't hold him ! Jist let the wild- 
 cat come, and I'll tame him. Ned'U see m.e a fair 
 fight; won't you, Ned? " 
 
 *' O, yes; I'll see you a fair fight, blast my old 
 shoes if I don't." 
 
 *' That's sufficient, as Tom Haynes said when he 
 saw the elephant; now let him come." 
 
 Thus they w^ent on, with countless oaths inter- 
 spersed which I dare not even hint at, and with 
 much that I could not distinctly hear. 
 
 *'In mercy's name," thought I, "what band of 
 ruffians has selected this holy season and this heav- 
 enly retreat for such pandemonian riots? I quick- 
 ened my gait, and had come nearly opposite to 
 the thick grove whence the noise proceeded 
 when my eye caught indistinctly and at intervals 
 through the foliage of the dwarf oaks and hickories 
 which intervened glimpses of a man or men who 
 seemed to be in a violent struggle, and I could oc- 
 casionally catch those deep-draw^n, emphatic oaths 
 which men in conflict utter when they deal blows. 
 I dismounted and hurried to the spot with all speed. 
 1 luicl overcome about lialf tlie space which sepa- 
 rated it from me when I saw the combatants come 
 to the ground, and after a short struggle I saw the 
 uppermost one ("fori could not see the other) make 
 
LONGSTREET THE HUMORIST. 93 
 
 a heavy plunge with both his thumbs, and at the 
 same instant I heard a cry in the accent of keenest 
 torture: " Enough! My eye's out! ". 
 
 I was so completely horror-struck that I stood 
 transfixed for a moment to the spot where the cry 
 met me. The accomplices in the hellish deed 
 which had been perpetrated had all fled at my ap- 
 proach; at least I supposed so, for they were not 
 to be seen. 
 
 "Now, blast your corn-shucking soul," said the 
 victor (a youth about eighteen years old) as he rose 
 from the ground, " come cutt'n your shines 'bout 
 me ag'in next time I come to the court-house, will 
 you ! Get your owl-eye in ag'in if you can ! " 
 
 At this moment he saw me for the first time. 
 He looked excessively embarrassed, and was mov- 
 ing off when I called to him in a tone emboldened 
 by the sacredness of my office and the iniquity of 
 his crime, " Come back, you brute, and assist me 
 in relieving your fellow-mortal whom you have 
 ruined forever." 
 
 My rudeness subdued his embarrassment in an 
 instant, and with a taunting curl of the nose he re- 
 plied: "You needn't kick before you're spurr'd. 
 There an't nobody there, nor ha'n't been, nother. 
 I was jist seein' how I could ^2.^ font ^ So saying, 
 he bounded to his plow, which stood in the corner 
 of the fence about fifty yards beyond the battle- 
 ground. 
 
 And, would you believe it, gentle reader, his re- 
 port was true. All that I had heard and seen was 
 nothing more nor less than a Lincoln rehearsal, in 
 which the youth who had just left me had played 
 
94 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 all the parts of all the characters in a court-house 
 fight. 
 
 ' I went to the ground from which he had risen, 
 and there were the prints of his two thumbs, 
 plunged up to the balls in the mellow^ earth, about 
 the distance of a man's eyes apart, and the ground 
 around was broken up as if two stags had been en- 
 gaged upon it. Hall. 
 
 The orator did not resume his remarks. 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. 
 
 THE political sky was full of baleful portents 
 when Judge Longstreet assumed the presi- 
 dency of South Carolina College, at Columbia, 
 S. C, in 1858. The long sectional conflict was 
 then rapidly approaching its crisis and catastro- 
 phe. The elements of combustion that had been 
 gathering during two generations were nearing the 
 inevitable explosion. That explosion was inevi- 
 table: existing conditions that could not be ig- 
 nored, and the instincts of human nature that 
 could not be changed, made the colhsion a cer- 
 tainty. Only a miracle of God could have averted 
 it. His miracles are wrought only through moral 
 agents that are wilHng to be used by him. The 
 free agency of the miracle-worker and that of its 
 beneficiary alike are respected in the exercise of 
 Amighty power and goodness. The day of God's 
 power and the day of his people's willingness syn- 
 chronize forever. Sectional passion raged. The 
 people were drunk with it. The conservatives and 
 compromisers who sought by this or that expedi- 
 ent to allay or delay the bursting of the tempest 
 were swept like straw before the whirlwind. Clay, 
 Webster, Crittenden, Douglas, and the other great 
 leaders who pleaded for peace between the sections 
 were either dead or had been voted down. The 
 Churches were unhappily drawn into the vortex, 
 
 (95) 
 
96 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 and the pulpit in man}^ places re-echoed the battle- 
 cries of the hustings. The moral issue involved in 
 the slavery question invested the struggle with the 
 sacredness of a holy crusade on the one side, and 
 questions of constitutional right, property interest, 
 and political equahty gave it the character of a 
 death-struggle for all that Anglo-Saxon freemen 
 hold dearest on the other. We who look at this 
 controversy in the perspective of three short dec- 
 ades are amazed at the bitterness of the good 
 men of both sides who were in the thick of it. 
 The best-balanced and most peace-loving patriots, 
 North and South, with some remarkable excep- 
 tions, were unable to resist the tide that was sweep- 
 ing the country into war. Even the Peace Society, 
 whose head-quarters were at Boston, took a prac- 
 tical recess from Fort Sumter to Appomattox. 
 
 Judge Longstreet in his political opinions was a 
 representative Southerner; and, in the firmness of 
 his Christian faith, in the kindliness of his heart, 
 the breadth of his sympathies, and the purity of 
 his motives as a patriot and a Christian, may be 
 taken as a representative of the great body of the 
 Christian men of the South. He thought and felt 
 as the majority of his fellow-citizens did at that 
 time. How he thought and felt will be seen from 
 his Baccalaureate Address delivered at the Univer- 
 sity of South Carolina for the year 1859. The 
 time, the place, the man, make it notable. It is 
 like a vivid flash of lightning revealing the storm 
 that was darkening over the heavens. Some of 
 the readers of to-day will be able to enter into the 
 spirit of this politico-educational deliverance. 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. 97 
 
 Baccalaureate Address Delivered at the University of 
 South Carolina to the Graduating Class of 1859. 
 
 Gentlemen: I am not sure but that v/hat I am about to say to 
 jou will be regarded as encroachment upon the politician's do- 
 main, for in this age of novelty and misnomers every thing that 
 is discussed at the hustings, in the newspapers and legislative 
 halls, is called politics; and those who discuss them are called 
 politicians, and politicians claim to themselves the exclusive 
 guardianship of the country's interest. Should I transcend the 
 bounds which they have been pleased to prescribe to me, I hope 
 they will impute my error to the infirmities of old age, or a mis- 
 taken sense of my duty and privilege. 
 
 You leave your Alma Matey for the world's bustling arena 
 at the most portentous period of your country's history. It is a 
 common remark that "man's extremity is God's opportunity;" 
 and it may be that now, when all the elements of discord are 
 astir from the Lakes to the Gulf, from the Atlantic to the Pa- 
 cific, when the two great sections of the country are in hostile 
 attitude upon grounds from which the one cannot and the other 
 will not recede, when to man's dim vision all is discouraging in 
 the present and dismal in the future, when the utter helpless- 
 ness of man in the emergency is felt and acknowledged by all, 
 God may interpose in our behalf, and lead us to peace and safe- 
 ty by a way that we have not known. 
 
 But if signs have not lost their import, and events their nat- 
 ural order, we are upon the eve of a lamentable revolution — a 
 revolution which the impartial historian will record with indig- 
 nation, and all coming generations will read of with shame for 
 the human race — which will stand forth as the most remark- 
 able, the most astounding monument of human folly and infat- 
 vxation that ever disgraced the earth. The only hope of its 
 fomenters to escape from the eternal sneers, contempt, derision, 
 and maledictions of all the tribes of earth to come is that soon 
 after the actors in it shall have passed away it will be regarded 
 as purely fabulous that the greatest, the richest, the happiest, the 
 holiest, the most Heaven-favored people on the globe, bound 
 together by every tie that could endear man to his fellow-man, 
 reciprocally dependent upon each other, reciprocally blessing 
 each other, sustaining precisely the relations to each other 
 which they sustained when they banded together in the full 
 fruition of all the bounties of earth and all the blessings of 
 heaven; the pride of republics, the awe of tyrants, the admired 
 of all, at the culminating point of their greatness, their glory, 
 and their grandeur should have put at hazard their all for the 
 sake of an abject race of negroes, who never knew freedom and 
 
 7 
 
gS JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 never can maintain it, may well be regarded in time to come as 
 utterly incredible. But so fanaticism will have it, and so let it 
 be. The revolution is actually begun; and if you improve your 
 opportunities and do your duty, you will have no insignificant 
 part to play in it. Neutral you cannot be. Indeed, your posi- 
 tion in it is already assigned to you — forced upon you — and now 
 your first inquiry should be whether you ought to maintain it, 
 and your second whether you can maintain it. 
 
 Upon these points allow me to give you the benefit of my 
 experience and observation. I have marked the progress of 
 that infatuation which has brought the country to its present 
 crisis from its inception to the present moment, and I foretold 
 its course and results as though I had been inspired. Its history 
 is curious, and of direct bearing upon the proposed inquiries. 
 Summon all your patience to go with me through it; and as we 
 proceed, mark how all the laws of nature, of nations, of heaven, 
 of morality, of comity, of decency, of humanity, and of self-re- 
 spect have melted away, one after another, under the hot and 
 fetid breath of Abolitionism. Until very lately there was not a 
 man on the broad surface of the South who ever made a slave 
 of a freeman or imported an African from his fatherland. Slav- 
 ery with us is by inheritance and necessity. The sin of it, if it 
 be sin, was entailed on us by the sires oi those who are now 
 crushing every thing to abolish it. Under such circumstances, 
 what had we a right to expect from them.^ Why surely some 
 such language as this: Slavery is either a blessing or a ctirsc. If 
 a blessing-, God has overrtilcd our sin to the benefit of the South, and 
 let her enjoy it in peaee. If a curse, %ve entailed it upon her, and let 
 us not embitter if. Nothing like this escapes their lips. Standing 
 upon the graves of their sires, with the profits of the slave trade 
 in their pockets, they send forth their maledictions against us 
 with as much self-satisfaction as the Pharisee felt in comparing 
 himself with the publican. With the slavery of the South they 
 have nothing to do. In this matter the States are as foreign to 
 each other as England and Turkey. The Federal Government 
 has but one office to perform in relation to it, and that is to pro- 
 tect it. All intermeddling with it, therefore, by that go\'ern- 
 mcnt or the free States is an open breach of the law of nations. 
 All appeals to that government to interfere Avith it are a direct 
 attack upon the fundamental laws of the Confederacy. 
 
 The Abolitionists commenced the development of their one 
 idea by very modestly addressing our moral sense. They poured 
 volumes upon us not only to convince us that we sinned griev- 
 ously in hokling slaves, but that we betrayed a lamentable igno- 
 rance of our temporal interest in so doing; and for fear we 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. 99 
 
 would overlook their wholesome instruction, they infused it 
 liberally in our school-books. Well, we set on foot a plan for 
 the gradual emancipation of our slaves. You would suppose, 
 would you not, that every Abolitionist at the North rallied to it 
 with head and heart, and hand and purse .^ Not so. They em- 
 bodied themselves against it almost to a man, and they ultimate- 
 ly defeated it. If opposed to sending slaves to Liberia, you 
 would naturally suppose that they would open an asylum for 
 them in their own domain. But no; they slam the door in their 
 faces when they approach them with manumission papers in 
 their hands. Even when they steal them, they do not foster 
 them and help them to a living: they pack them off to the un- 
 congenial regions of Canada. Their apology for throwing this 
 houseless, penniless, shivering race upon a neighboring king- 
 dom is that they might be recaptured by their owners in the 
 United States; when, lo, they have so disciplined their people, 
 and so molded their laws, that it is next to impossible for the 
 owners to make reclamation, and as much as their lives are 
 worth to attempt it. We ask them what they would have us do.? 
 and they answer, " Set your negroes free." What.? Turn loose 
 two or three millions of paupers among us — helpless old men 
 and women, little children, blind, decrepid, diseased, and all.'' 
 How will they live.? "Give them the land they have so long 
 cultivated for you." But they cannot eat land. "Then give 
 them the crops they have made." But they must be clothed. 
 " Well, do you clothe them." There are thousand and tens of 
 thousands of negroes owned by minors. Who is to free thein 
 and furnish their outfit.? " Let the adults do it." And what are 
 we, our wives and children, our old, afflicted, and infirm to do.? 
 " Stay and work with your negroes, or go off in a body where 
 you can do better." Now, gentlemen, would you suppose that 
 any man on the face of the earth who does not covet the char- 
 acter of a maniac without deserving his pity, and a place in bed- 
 lam without deserving its charities, would propose such terms 
 to any people above the grade of a Hottentot.? And yet these 
 are precisely the terms which the Abolitionists offer to us, and 
 the only terms which will satisfy them ; and because we cannot 
 acquiesce in these terms, they are waging all kinds of warfare 
 against us but honorable warfare. We must make our slaves 
 free at an expense of seven hundred millions of dollars in slave 
 property! We must give our land to these freemen, worth 
 eight hundred millions more, and we must clothe these freemen 
 at the expense of divers millions more; and then we must work 
 their land (if they please) at our own expense, or move off to 
 some place where hundreds of millions of acres are to be got 
 
lOO JUDGE LO.NGSTREET. 
 
 for nothing, and where we can live while rearing them upon 
 nothing, and clothe ourselves with nothing, for we shall all be 
 penniless! 
 
 Almost every officer of the free States, and every officer of 
 the Federal Government from those States, swears to support 
 the Constitution of the United States. In this onslaught upon 
 slavery multitudes of them violate the Constitution openly and 
 unblushingly. How do they reconcile such conduct to their 
 consciences? In two ways: 
 
 1. They say that they' act in obedience to a "higher law." 
 Then they should not take the oath. Will God hold him guilt- 
 less who voluntarily swears to do that which he thinks God 
 forbids .'' 
 
 2. They say that they perform the oath as they understand 
 it. I supposed that if there was any thing settled in relation to 
 oaths it was that they are to be performed not as he who takes 
 them chooses to understand them, but as he knows the imposer 
 of them expected him to perform them. 
 
 When the Abolitionists found that we could not be persuaded 
 to change places with our slaves, they besieged Congress with 
 petitions innumerable to assist them in their war upon slavery. 
 And how did they justify these appeals to Congress to usurp 
 powers that did not belong to it.-* Why, there is in the Consti- 
 tution, which they so much despise, a clause which secures to 
 every citizen the right of petition for redress of grievance — his 
 own grievances, of couuse, and such as Congress can redress, 
 and such as white men alone feel. None but an Abolitionist, 
 reckless of the world's opinion of his understanding, would give 
 the clause any other exposition. Not so, however, with him. 
 As the clause will not stretch itself to fit him, he contracts him- 
 self to fit the clause. He (of Massachusetts) gets aggrieved that 
 there are millions of slaves in the United States, not one of 
 whom he ever saw. He gets some hundreds of his clan to feel 
 themselves aggrieved from the same cause; and they send their 
 petitions to Congress, not to redress their self-inflicted griev- 
 ances or the grievances of the slaves (for they feel none), but to 
 curtail the privileges of all the whites of the South, slave-holders 
 and non-slave-holders! In 1834 they were ready to shed their 
 blood in defense of this " sacred right of petition," as they called 
 it. When South Carolina nullified the tariff laws by which they 
 fattened and we suffered, she was denounced throughout the 
 Union, and by none so insultingly as the New England States. 
 Some of them I know, and all of them I believe, have nullified 
 the slave laws; and while manv praise them for it, hardly an 
 indignant voice is raised against them, even in the South. 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. lOI 
 
 Their undisguised efforts have been for many years to con- 
 fine the slaves and their masters within as narrow limits as pos- 
 sible. P^or what? Why, that, as the population of both in- 
 creases, they may want the means of subsistence. What would 
 be the inevitable effect of this slave-loving project.'' Why, as 
 they approached the starving-point, the slaves would be worked 
 the harder and fed the less.' They would perish by thousands, 
 or rebel and be butchered by tens of thousands; or, at best, the 
 whites would move off in a body, and leave them in their igno- 
 rance and poverty to starve on a wasted soil, without govern- 
 ment, without law, without help, without hope. If bandits and 
 pirates would not shudder at such a project, they are worse than 
 I take them to be. 
 
 Time will not serve me to enumerate the various concessions 
 that we have made to those insatiable harpies, and which, as a 
 cover-shame, we dignified with the name of "compromises." 
 Suffice it to say that every concession has but encouraged and 
 aggravated aggression. Not a solitary pledge given by them 
 or implied in these compromises have they ever faithfully re- 
 deemed. 
 
 When the Mexican war was waged, they sympathized with 
 Mexico ; but as soon as golden California was won by Southern 
 toil and Sovithern blood, they pounced upon it and rushed it into 
 the Union as a free State against all the forms of law, all the 
 usages of the country, and all the claims of justice. 
 
 So much for these people in the realms of moral and munici- 
 pal law. Let us now follow them into the more sacred precincts 
 of the law divine. God doomed his own peculiar people to ab- 
 ject slavery for four hundred years. They say that slavery is 
 the sum of all villainies. God said: '■'■Thou shalt not cornet thy 
 neighbor'' s wife., nor any thing that is thy neighbor'' s., nor his ox, nor 
 his ass, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant.'''' They say that 
 the Constitution which recognizes slavery as a legitimate insti- 
 tution (and of course any other record that does) is a " league 
 with death and a covenant with hell." They acknowledge, I 
 suppose, that to covet a slave is a sin ; but to steal him they re- 
 gard as a virtue, and boast of it. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob 
 were slave-holders; and they are all now in heaven, our Saviour 
 being witness. They say that no slave-holder is worthy of 
 Church-membership — i. e\, of being a spiritual child of Abraham 
 — and necessarily no slave-holder can get to heaven. Our Sav- 
 iour healed a master's slave, and said of the owner: '■'■I have not 
 found so great faith, no, not in Israeli They say (virtually) that a 
 slave-holder cannot have saving faith. An angel from heaven 
 sent back a fugitive slave to her mistress. Paul sent back a fugi- 
 
I02 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 tive to his master, hailing the master as a brother beloved. They 
 indict their own citizen as a culprit for doing the self-same thing. 
 Christ rebuked Peter for drawing a sword in defense of his 
 person. He scourged out the dealers and money-changers from 
 the temple. How must he have regarded the scene in the North 
 Church of New Haven.'* There, under the presidency of one of 
 his professed ministers, Avere assembled preachers, professors, 
 Christians, students, women. With a levity which the sanctity 
 of the place and his calling should have banished, the head of 
 the assembly opens a subscription for rifles to be used upon their 
 countrymen in Kansas. The spirit of the head pervades the as- 
 sembly, and amidst laughter, plaudits, and shocking pleasantries 
 the subscription proceeds. They all subscribe, even the wom- 
 en; while Henry Ward Beecher puns upon the name of Killam 
 as befitting the work in hand. Benjamin Silliman, a renowned 
 professor, invites his disciples to come by classes and imitate his 
 example in the cold-blooded murder plot. All this they did to 
 drive slave-holders from the common territory of the States, and 
 this they call "the defense of freedom." Remember that such 
 subscriptions as these began before there were any " border ruf- 
 fians." Paul and Peter teach obedience of slaves to their mas- 
 ters; they teach revolt of slaves against their masters. And how 
 do they reconcile their conduct and professions of religion with 
 these Scriptures.'' In three ways: i. By taking a horror- fit and 
 insulting the man who quotes them. 2. By giving false ver- 
 sions to Scripture that were never heard of or thought of before 
 their day. 3. By making the general precepts of the Bible 
 qualify or abrogate the special precepts. Who ever heard of 
 this rule of construction before the rise of Abolitionism.? Hus- 
 bands^ love your ivives; xvives, submit yourselves to your husbands; 
 children^ obey your parents ; masters, give 7tnto your servants zvhat is 
 Just and equal; servants, be obedient to your masters; let as many 
 servants as are U7ider the yoke count their masters tvorthy of all hon- 
 or. All these 5/^a<7/ precepts, directed particularly to the private 
 relations, they regard as repealed or qualified by the general 
 precept, zvhatsoevcr you ivould that men should do to vou do you even 
 so to them. This is exactly reversing the rule of interpretation 
 adopted by all who lay claim to common sense and common 
 honesty. But suppose tneir version to be right; Christ com- 
 mends the people of the South to obey the golden rule, and they 
 disobey it. Has he commissioned these mitered vandals, these 
 frolicsome priests, these recruiting professors, these Jezebel 
 women, or any of the same stripe, to enforce his commands by 
 plunder, robbery, or assassination.? Does it require the free of 
 the world io force the slaves of the world to freedom .? 
 
R Um BUNGS OF THE COMING S TORM. IO3 
 
 It was in Kansas, under such teachers as were gathered in 
 the Nort^ Church, that John Brown graduated. Having com- 
 pleted h s butcheries in Kansas, with the help of British and 
 American incendiaries, he concocts a grand g^^^^'^^.^^^^^.^ 
 which -.le is to be the head and commander in chiet. it is ex- 
 ceedin .ly simple in its structure and remarkably single in its 
 aim. iTwas to place secret emissaries in all the Southern States 
 to stir up^-evolt among the negroes. They were to be armed 
 and \-ivileged to take from their owners such movables, money, 
 andY.rovisions as would make their trip to Canada, or a free 
 State, comfortable if they found it necessary to flope, but the;^ 
 were.'not to kill anybody provided they were "ot resisted , but if 
 resie,ted then they were to kill at pleasure. Gen. Brown takes 
 the i nUiktive in hi^ new government, and he selects Virginia, the 
 land Xere Massachusetts found her ablest advocate in council, 
 and her ablest general in the field when she most needed her 
 serv ices !as the theater of his operations. From the moment he 
 first trod the soil of Virginia to the outburst he ^^s a living im- 
 personation of hypocrisy, duplicity, treachery, and falsehood 
 He 'Entered the State as a peaceful citizen; he was a disguised 
 ene.my He bought land in her vicinity as a miner; he was an 
 un derminer. He groped about as if upon his pretended busi- 
 ne ss he was upon the work of a demon. He had packages sent 
 to him under false labels as mining implements; they were im- 
 pl ements of death for slaves to use upon their masters You 
 k now the rest. This ruthless monster, this night prowler this 
 a larmist of sleeping women and children, this vagrant husband 
 fhts unnatural father, this complotter with aliens against his 
 -countrymen, this robber, this traitor, this murderer, this shock^ 
 ing incarnation of all that is repulsive in human nature and 
 brizen in sin, commands the sympathies of the Abo itiomsts a 
 most to a man. He is their protomartyr, the first saint in their 
 ^akndar ; they regret his defeat, they eulogize him blasphemous- 
 W they propose to consecrate the day of his execution, they 
 proclaim it the signal of the downfall of slaverjs lawyers ride 
 Cndreds of miles^o defend him, from regions where the slave- 
 holder could not hope for justice, they plot his rescue, while they 
 drop not a svmpathizing word to Burley Turner and the other 
 V ctLs of his cruelty. John Brown, then, is the acknowledged 
 repi-esentative, the visible exponent of Northern Abolitionism 
 as it exists in the hearts of seven-tenths of its votaries. Tell me 
 no that it is confined to the Cheevers, Sloanes, and a few more 
 such ultras. It pervades the whole mass. I see it m the bold- 
 ness of the ultras, in the subdued tone of their opposers, in their 
 newspapers, their' elections, in everything. Brown's conduct 
 
I04 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 should have produced one spontaneous hurst of '.H"-nation 
 from Pennsylvania to the Lakes. It should have a obed the 
 priests who advocated it, and blasted all who appro d of it. 
 Such would have been its effects in 1795. Such would ye been 
 its effects forty years ago. 
 
 These disorganizers regard the poverty, moral, phyt al, and 
 intellectual degradation of the South as' axiomatic, an assert 
 that the South could not live without the North; and j ^i^ev 
 call cotton " king" (forgetting the other members of the yal 
 family), and complain that the whole country "has bee gov- 
 erned by slave-holders for seventy years." 
 
 If, now, the South should withdraw from the Union, wl ^vill 
 be to blame for it and its consequences.? Surely, surely n the 
 South. And yet, when that event occurs, you shall hear hese 
 implacable persecutors of her speaking of her people as tl,ugh 
 they sundered the Union because they could not rule it, o 'rc^ln 
 a reckless, restless, hot-blooded spirit that will suffer no o -josi- 
 tion from without and knows no control from within. So has 
 always been, and so will it be — no very soothing balm to wo nds 
 thirty years old and torn open afresh at least quadrennially 
 
 The Union dissolved, and what then.? "Why, wai of 
 course," is the common answer. No, gentlemen, there wd) be 
 no w^ar if the Southern States move off in a body. I w( Id 
 stake every thing I am worth upon this position. " But let us 
 suppose the worst. You, perhaps, like hundreds of thousai is 
 of our people, look at the nvmierical strength of the sectioi, ; 
 and because the North greatly outnumbers us, you conclude tl t 
 war would be hopeless to us. No, gentlemen^ if the success ' 
 wars depended upon the population engaged in them, Franc 
 would have mastered England centuries ago. In these da3^ 
 wars depend more upon means than men. Now, the South can 
 put 200,000 men in the field, and more if need be, and support 
 them there longer than any nation on the globe of the same 
 ■white population, without reducing her productive resources ten 
 per cent. Her foreign commerce would go on just as it does 
 with these differences only: that all Europe would be our car- 
 riers instead of the North," and all the profits of our vast trade 
 would go to enrich the South instead of being divided as they 
 now are in the ratio of eight dollars to the North and one to the 
 South. Where are the 200,000 of the North to come from to 
 meet us in the field.? From the productive classes. How are 
 they to be supported? I know not. Our three years' war with 
 England cost us $127,000,000, and we never had 100,000 men in 
 the field at a time or the half of it. It was our straitened re- 
 sources and nothing else that forced us into a peace before we 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. 105 
 
 gained the object of the war. Alexander commenced the con- 
 quest of the world with 35,000 men, and Bonaparte the conquest 
 of Europe with but 7,000 more. Southern troops fought as well 
 under Jackson as Northern troops under Hull, Mississippi 
 troops as well at Buena Vista as Indiana troops, Scott, Taylor, 
 Twiggs, Quitman, Davis were as gallant leaders as any that the 
 North furnished. Away then with this notion of whipping us 
 into the Union, or whipping us at all. It may frighten the ig- 
 norant; it will inspirit the wise. But what of the internal ene- 
 my.'* Why the internal enemy will make provisions to sustain 
 their young masters in the field. So they have done in three 
 wars, and so they will do in all. But will not the North stir them 
 up.? Yes, just exactly as John Brown did. The crusade against 
 the Sovith will end as all crusades have ended. Suppose a 
 peaceable separation, what then.? A common interest will bind 
 the South together as with hooks of steel. Trade will be com- 
 paratively free; it will not be fettered for protection. We shall 
 buy where we can buy cheapest, and sell where we can sell 
 dearest. The cheapest and best goods will be at the South, and 
 trade will take the direction that it had before the Union was 
 formed. We shall grow rich as if by magic. 
 
 How will it be with the North.? The only bond of union with 
 her people is hatred of slavery, and they will begin to quarrel 
 forthwith — about the authors of the disruption, about the seat of 
 government, about the loaves and fishes, the unequal burdens 
 of the government, tariffs. Eastern and Western interests, farm- 
 ing and mercantile interests, and a thousand other interests; 
 and in less than thirty years there will be another split in the 
 great Northern Confederacy. Their revenue from foreign com- 
 merce will not support the Government a single j'ear. 
 
 What then.? Direct taxes.? The people will not bear them; 
 and they cannot be adjusted harmoniously if they would. The 
 stolen negroes will give trouble. Canada will insist upon sur- 
 rendering her trust of them. The North will object. The car- 
 rying trade of three and a half millions of bales of cotton, sev- 
 enty thousand tierces of rice, and one hundred and fifty-seven 
 thousand hogsheads of tobacco, to say nothing of other South- 
 ern exports, will be lost to them immediately and annually; and 
 all the shipping needful for their transportation will be thrown 
 out of employ. I venture the prediction that in less than five 
 years after the dissolution rabid Massachusetts herself will be 
 courting Southern commerce herself, as mute upon the subject 
 of slavery as the Bunker Hill monvunent. 
 
 Now, young gentlemen, you know your foe, your cause, and 
 your power. Go forth, not to challenge a contest, not to fear it, 
 
Io6 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 not to strive for disunion, nor to make a dishonorable surrender 
 of the thousandth part of a mill more to save it. If the other 
 States, with all the lights of experience before them, will go on 
 furnishing the means of their own oppression, if they are will- 
 ing to barter away their rights, constitutional, commercial, and 
 territorial, still further to save the Union — then 1 say and would 
 utter it with the trumpet's voice, let South Carolina put her 
 cause in the hands of God and take her stand alone. I do not 
 think she has much to hope for from the other States; but in 
 every State there are thousands of ^is gallant spirits as her own 
 most gallant who will rally to her standard if she be attacked as 
 joyously as to the festive board. And do you, young gentle- 
 men, acquit yourselves as nobly in her cause as you have in her 
 college, and you will have an enviable fame. In the field imi- 
 tate your Butler, w^ho, like his ow^n Palmetto when ball-struck, 
 showed no outward sign of injury while life remained; and if 
 compelled by overwhelming numbers to give way, let your 
 flight be like that of the eagle in the storm, that rides in proud 
 defiance before the blast that it cannot resist, and strikes with 
 strong wing the angry elements which hurry it away. May 
 earth's purest honors and heaven's richest blessings attend you! 
 Farewell. 
 
 This address drew forth a letter from Hon. J. 
 L. Pettigru remonstrating with Judge Longstreet 
 for the character of his speech, Mr. Pettigru' s 
 letter caused the Judge to write the two following: 
 
 Columbia, S. C, December 6, 1859. 
 My Dear Pettigru: One good my speech will certainly do: 
 it will prove our friendship if yours remains steadfast; for your 
 opinion of the "diatribe" will not abate a scruple of my esteem 
 for you, if it does not yours for me. I considered it well before 
 I delivered it, and I did not suppose that there was a man South- 
 ern born who could object to it. I have reconsidered it, and I 
 cannot see wherein it is objectionable in matter, time, or place. 
 The introductory remarks were extemporaneous and ex cibun- 
 dantia eautela. It is directed against Abolitionists exclusively, 
 who have severed the Churches, abased us in every variety of 
 form, overleaped all laws in their attacks upon us, made the 
 most unnatural exactions of us, violated all compromises, and 
 brought the country to the very verge of revolution. Young 
 men are just going to encounter the storms which they have 
 awakened, and which they manifestly intend to keep rumbling. 
 
RUMBLINGS OF THE COMING STORM. 107 
 
 Could it have been wrong to put these young men in full pos- 
 session of the grounds of our sectional differences, to expose 
 the shallow pretenses of their implacable enemies, and to inspire 
 them with confidence in their cause if things come to the worst? 
 I cannot think so. Once before I spoke out when I thought 
 the country in imminent danger, and I got a terrible rasping for 
 it; but I lived to be commended for it by those who lashed me 
 sorest, and so it will be, I flatter myself, in this instance. In 
 neither case was I influenced by party. I thank you for your 
 kindly admonition; but if I get into a "pitfall," be assured that 
 I shall rebound with an elasticity which will place me upon 
 ground far more agreeable to me than that which I now occupy. 
 Still 1 duly appreciate your counsels, because I know they come 
 from a true friend. I have been about eighteen years at the 
 head of colleges, and never deemed it my duty but twice to pub- 
 lish my thoughts upon the agitating questions which stirred the 
 country; and I hardly think at my time of life I shall deem it 
 necessary to do so again, but I make no promises. 
 
 Your sincere friend, A. B. Longstreet. 
 
 We are all wiser now. We are wiser because 
 we are cooler. We are wiser because time has 
 been teaching us. Judge Longstreet was not 
 alone in his belief that secession would not pro- 
 duce war, absurd as it may seem to us all now. 
 He did stake every thing on that issue, and lost. 
 So did the South. This address will not convince 
 anybody (not already so convinced) that the South 
 was right, but it demonstrates that its author and 
 those who took the same side thought they were 
 right. The struggle they maintained against such 
 tremendous odds, the privations and sufferings 
 they endured vindicate their sincerity. In the 
 light of accomplished events, Judge Longstreet's 
 arguments may seem to be feeble and his proph- 
 ecies absurd ; but it requires but little effort of the 
 imagination to conceive what must have been the 
 effect of such a speech upon a body of South Car- 
 olina students holding to the State rights theories 
 
Io8 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 of Mr. Calhoun, in the flush of youthful enthusi- 
 asm, and rejoicing in the conscious strength of the 
 young manhood to which nothing seems impossi- 
 ble but defeat or dishonor. The peroration has 
 the ring of the earlier times, when popular orartors 
 were not afraid of a mighty sweep into the empy- 
 rean, and when rhetoric was more lurid and crit- 
 ics less sardonic than now. 
 
 It was not surprising that the young South Car- 
 olinians took him at his word ; and when the war 
 began, the halls of the University were quickly 
 emptied. The gallant boys rushed into the field 
 with martial enthusiasm and buoyant hopes. Many 
 of them came back no more, left to sleep in their 
 bloody shrouds where they fell fighting beneath 
 the bars and stars. The survivors came back un- 
 der the shadow of defeat to begin life anew in a 
 new world. 
 
A TILT WITH DR. WINANS. 
 
 IN 1854-55 the country was swept by the political 
 movement called " Know-nothingism." The 
 excitement was intense, and the feeling most bitter. 
 The fact that the Know-nothing party (so called) 
 was a secret organization influenced popular curi- 
 osity, and aggravated the asperity of the conflict. 
 The new organization drew into its ranks a large 
 part of the old Whig party, then in the first stages 
 of dissolution, while the great body of the Demo- 
 cratic party opposed it. Because of the nature of 
 some of the issues raised by the Know-nothings, 
 not a few of the preachers of the Methodist and 
 other Protestant denominations were induced to 
 join the secret lodges, where they were taught the 
 grips and pass-words, and assumed the obligations 
 of the order. Judge Longstreet, never indifferent 
 to such questions, under what he felt to be the con- 
 straint of duty wrote two powerful and character- 
 istic papers against the Know-nothing party. He 
 was particularly severe and sarcastic in his hand- 
 ling of Methodist preachers who had entered the 
 Know-nothing lodges. He spoke of the pledge 
 said to be exacted of them to resist the importation 
 of European paupers into the United States, and 
 asked: "Pray, who are paupers? They are not 
 necessarily ignorant or vicious. They are God's 
 poor, born to hard fortune in the Old World, who 
 
 (109) 
 
no JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 seek our shores, hoping to find room and work and 
 a chance in Hfe. Instead of giving them a kindly 
 welcome and sympathy and help, and preaching 
 to them the gospel that reveals the love of God 
 and leads them to enter into the fellowship of the 
 Church, these preachers go into secret midnight 
 conclaves and swear to put them down or repel 
 them from our shores!" And much more of the 
 same sort. These philippics were copied by the 
 Democratic newspapers all over the country, and 
 no doubt did much toward arresting the triumph- 
 ant progress of the Know-nothing party. To Judge 
 Longstreet largely is due the credit — or discredit, 
 if the reader prefer so to think — of the overthrow 
 of that organization. 
 
 Judge Longstreet was a Democrat. Dr. Wi- 
 nans, the great Mississippi Methodist preach- 
 er, was a Whig, and in common with the ma- 
 jority of that party was inclined in his heart to 
 favor any movement that seemed likely to over- 
 throw or defeat the Democratic party. So it hap- 
 pened that when Longstreet entered the arena on 
 the one side, Winans was mightily moved to take 
 up the gage of battle for the other. It is a little 
 amusing to note how two men so brave, so good, 
 and so frank in their natures, strove to conceal 
 from themselves and from their readers the parti- 
 san anirnits that caused them to shed their ink -pro 
 and con. Each one of them assumes that he wrote 
 as a Methodist, not as a Whig or Democrat, his 
 chief aim being the preservation and w^elfare of the 
 Church, with incidental reference only to the po- 
 litical welfare of the nation. 
 
A TILT WITH DR. WIN AN S. Ill 
 
 Human nature is indeed self-deceiving, and even 
 the greatest and best of men, acting under the 
 pressure of powerful excitement, fail to under- 
 stand the mixed motives that control them. Here 
 is a lesson that teaches the importance of close and 
 candid self-examination, and makes a plea for the 
 charity that we should exercise in our judgments 
 of each other, and which we shall all need at last. 
 The issues involved in the Know-nothing move- 
 ment have not wholly lost their interest to the Am- 
 erican people, and it will not be deemed a waste 
 of space to print what two such men as Long- 
 street and Winans thought and said in 1855. 
 
 Dr. Winans's Letter. 
 
 Rev. A. B. Lo7igstreet, LL.D. — My Dear Old Friend: I have 
 great reluctance to come into conflict with jou before the pub- 
 lic. This reluctance arises partly from the great respect in 
 which I have held you for many years, and from the fraternal 
 affection which I have at the same time entertained for you, and 
 partly from a persuasion that I am no equal match for you with 
 the pen. We together have warred strenuously against the ma- 
 lignant tendencies of Abolition fanaticism, and we suffered to- 
 gether in that ruthless warfare. Few things so endear men to 
 each other as united resistance of a common foe, and the ardor 
 of the attachment is usually in proportion to the fierceness of the 
 struggle and to the amount of suffering it has involved. What 
 wonder, then, that I feel reluctant to aim at jw/r breast a single 
 blow, no matter how feeble or innoxious.? Yet, under a strong 
 persuasion that your address to "The M. E. Church, South," 
 ought to be animadverted on, and that it ought to be done by an 
 old Methodist preacher, I am constrained to stifle the sensibility 
 that would withhold me, and to brave that terrible/?/^ with which 
 you menace the allies of the Know-nothings who may place 
 themselves within the range of those " shafts " which you evi- 
 dently consider fatal where they strike. 
 
 I never have been, and do not expect ever to be, a member 
 of the "American " party ; but if I were as rabidly opposed to it 
 as you have rendered it abundantly evident you are, I think I 
 should consider your address to the M. E. Church, South, in one 
 
112 JUDGE L ONGS TREET. 
 
 particular alone, more, abundantlj more, worthy of censure than 
 any thing in the Know-nothing organization. I allude to the 
 fact that you have /ormt/llj' addressed a Church, in its aggregate 
 capacity, upon a I'olitical question If jou had anj rational 
 purpose in making this address (and who that knows you can 
 doubt that you had), it must have been to array the Church 
 against the American party. Could you succeed in this design, 
 the very fountain of political power would be immediately poi- 
 soned by a union of Church and State; and that, too, at a point 
 more etticient by far for ill than in the halls of legislation or in 
 executive prerogative, and where responsibility could never be 
 brought home to those who perverted ///«/ union to unpatriotic 
 purposes. I defy 3'ou, my brother, to specify any thing in Know 
 nothingism of equal turpitude with this attempt to enlist a 
 Church organization in a crusade against a political party, no 
 matter what that party may be. My history is an ample evi- 
 dence that I consider it the right of Christians and preachers of 
 the gospel to "meddle with politics;" but I do not believe that 
 a Church organization has any such right; nor, pardon my frank- 
 ness, that anv man can excite a Chvirch to such a course with- 
 out political delinquency which I will not characterize as I think 
 it deserves. Had you addressed your remarks upon the Amer- 
 ican party generally^ leaving individual members of the M. E. 
 Church, South, to be influenced by your arguments or deterred 
 by your menaces, in coinmon with other partakers in the polit- 
 ical interests of the United States, I should have thought you 
 were doing what you had a right to do, however I might differ 
 with you as to the correctness of the views presented in that 
 address. If you did not feel constrained by a consciousness of 
 the wrong you were doing in making such an address, I am sur- 
 prised that your knowledge of Methodists had not led you to 
 forbear. Nearly fifty years of pretty intimate and extensive ac- 
 quaintance with them satisfies mc that there is no community of 
 men who would shrink with more horror and disgust from an 
 attempt to drill them into any thing like concert in folitical ac- 
 tion than they. No mandamus of a bishop, no influence of a 
 presiding elder, no dogmatism or dictation of learned doctors 
 ever can, I think, sway them from their self-elected course. 
 Nay, their jealousy for their political independence not unfre- 
 quently renders them deaf even to the arguments of the leading 
 men in their Church. Be assured I have no fear of the iiifiucnco 
 of your address upon the course of the M. E. Church, South; 
 but I am not without fear that such an, address, having been ut- 
 tered by an old Methodist preacher, Avill beget a groundless 
 jealousy in the public mind of the lialnlity of the M. E. Church, 
 
A TILT WITH DR. WINANS. II3 
 
 South, to being drilled into concerted political action. It will 
 be perfectly natural to reason that Dr. Longstreet would not 
 have made such an address if his knowledge of his Church had 
 not authorized him to hope that he could sway them collectively . 
 If not, why should he address them, and in their collective ca- 
 pacity.? Whether, then, you shall or shall not have succeeded 
 in arraying your Church against the Know-nothings, you have, 
 in my opinion, by making such an address, done harm to the 
 extent of your influence. I grieve that it is so; but "to err is 
 human," especially where passion has blinded the intellect, so 
 that even Rev. Judge Longstreet, LL.D., may be found " weak, 
 and as other men " when circumstances combine against him. 
 
 You say: " Of all the parties ever conjured up in this coun- 
 try of legerdemain, this is the only one that ever exacted re- 
 spect from its opponents by reason of the wise and good that 
 belonged to it." Your sources of information may be different 
 and better than mine; but, so far as my knowledge of this and 
 other parties is concerned, this censure (for censure I presume 
 you intended it to be upon the Know-nothings) had no founda- 
 tion in fact. So far as I have read their writings and heard their 
 speeches they have not displayed a whit more aptitude to claim 
 respect from others on account of the wisdom and goodness of 
 those who belong to them than the other parties I have known. 
 True, Avhen they have been vilified, traduced, and insulted by 
 imputations that would disgrace humanity, they have sometimes 
 inquired whether A, B, or C, men of known wisdom and worth, 
 would be voluntary partners in such infamy. But were they to 
 contemplate with complacency the wisdom and moral worth of 
 many of their members, they might be excused, for I do not in 
 the least depreciate your just claims to either of these qualities 
 when I say their claims to both are fully equal to yours. You 
 may satisfy yourself that, because you do not aim your thrusts 
 directly at these wise and good men, you do them no wrong in 
 vituperating the party to which they voluntarily belong. This 
 is convenient casuistry enough. It will hardlj', however, be 
 satisfactory to those whom you wound " by implication " in your 
 denunciation of the party. The wise and good in the American 
 party, it is some consolation to believe, will probably survive 
 the glancing wounds inflicted by j^our shafts. 
 
 In your conjectural account of the origin of the Know-noth- 
 ing party you ascribe far more importance to the desire to throw 
 off the burden of foreign faupcrisni than I have been able to de- 
 tect in the views of that party. True, this is one of the causes 
 assigned for their desire to check the influx of foreigners into 
 our country, but it is manifestly spoken of by them as if regard- 
 
 8 
 
114 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 cd as vastly inferior in importance and inliuence to other causes 
 by which "they are actuated. That this cotild not be the chief 
 cause why Massachusetts should get up a new political organi- 
 zation in the United States is evident from the fact that she had 
 the power, in the exercise of her State Rights, to prohibit the 
 entrance of foreign paupers into her territory or to send them 
 back, to the country whence they came. 1 believe she has exer- 
 cised the latter of these powers. The machinery of an organ- 
 ized party in the United States was entirely too ponderous to be 
 resorted to by sagacious Yankees in a case like this, where the 
 remedy for the evil was so easy and in their own hands. It 
 seems to me, my old friend, that you are not apt at guessing-^ at 
 least that you have grievously failed in guessing the origin of 
 the American party. As to driving away those foreigners, pau- 
 pers or otherwise, who are already domiciled in the United 
 States (I do not mean those who are naturalized), the idea, I 
 suppose, never entered the head of a Know-nothing or of any 
 Yankee till you injected it. Why, then, the sneer: "Shall she 
 use the contribution of her confederates, and then cut their ac- 
 quaintance and drive them off.'"' It seems to me wholly gratui- 
 tous. 
 
 You are very probably correct in one supposition in this 
 connection: that foreigners, especially English and Irish, 
 crowded into Massachusetts w ith a view to " sustain her in her 
 efforts to overthrow- the government" of the United States by 
 the triumph of Abolitionism ; and that they came with "the im- 
 pression that her feelings and sj^mpathies were in unison with 
 their own." All or very nearly all immigrants froin Europe 
 are from education, and most of them from interest, thorough- 
 going Abolitionists Well, then, might the fanatics of Massa- 
 chusetts calculate on the hearty co-operation of these immi- 
 grants, especially of those from England and Ireland, in their 
 daring crusade against slavery! And as well might these im- 
 migrants count on the burning zeal of their principals in this 
 holy w-arfare whom they came prepared to aid in it, to maintain 
 them while so engaged and their poor also, and even to wink 
 hard on their fugitives from the justice of their native country. 
 But the evil of pauperism, though felt .to be oppressive by Mas- 
 sachusetts, and nowhere regarded with indifference, is not, as I 
 understand the Know-nothings, as a drop of the bucket in their 
 estimation compared with other evils which they apprehend as 
 morally certain to result to this whole nation, and especially to the 
 South, from the immigration and naturalization of such swarms 
 of foreigners as are pouring into the United States from year to 
 year. The utter and incurable political ignorance of nine-tenths 
 
A TILT WITH DR. WINANS. II5 
 
 of these immigrants, their habits of thinking and feeling, in the 
 nature of things adverse to the political institutions of our coun- 
 try, and their vast and rapidly increasing nvimbers,it is believed 
 bj the American party, as for thirty years it has been believed 
 by me, cause them to be dangerous, alarmingly dangerous, to 
 the safety of our national Union and the permanence of our 
 glorious institutions so long as the door of naturalization is left 
 open to them. 
 
 The rapid increase of foreign Romanists, their blind subserv- 
 iency to the pope and to the officials under his authority, and 
 the recently adopted tone of bold and defiant annunciation of 
 papal supremacy, and of coercion in the conversion of heretics 
 to papal domination, uttered by American Romanist writers, 
 were viewed before the Know-nothing organization existed by 
 sober and considerate patriots and Protestants as rendering it 
 dangerous to the well-being and even safety of our country to 
 intrust such Romanists as conceded sovereignty to the pope, in 
 civil as well as ecclesiastical matters, with offices of power and 
 political influence. 
 
 I assure you, my dear brother, that I entertained these views 
 before I ever heard of a Know-nothing party, and that I now 
 consider them as far more important than any w^iich were ever 
 mooted by the Whig and Locofoco parties. I conjecture that 
 the entertainment of these great national views, believed to be 
 essential to the permanence of our national institutions, and not, 
 as you suppose, a mere desire to throw off the burden of foreign 
 pauperism, led to the organization of the American party, 
 whether in Massachusetts or elsewhere, I have no means of 
 guessing. The public must decide between the claims of our 
 several conjectures to reasonableness and probability. 
 
 I am at some loss to determine whether you accredit the orig- 
 ination of this new party to the influence of Abolition fanati- 
 cism in any degree otherwise than as Abolitionists drew upon 
 Massachusetts the burden of foreign pauperism, of which the 
 new organization was devised, you think, to relieve her. If you 
 did intend to class this organization among Abolition devices, 
 you did it not only without reason, but directly in the teeth of 
 your own conjectural account of the origin of this party which 
 you so love to hate. Were foreigners allured to Massachusetts 
 because of their well-known Abolition tendencies, and would 
 the Abolitionists organize a party to deprive themselves of an 
 increase of some one hundred thousand votes annually by pro- 
 hibiting their naturalization, and this, too, among shrewd, calcu- 
 lating Yankees.? The supposition is ridiculously absurd. Every 
 reading man knows that foreign immigrants are, with very few 
 
1 1 6 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 exceptions, Abolitionists from education; they are so almost 
 equally from interest. The only resource of most of them is 
 their own labor. Banish slavery from the United States, and 
 there would be an instant demand for the free labor of at least 
 a million. This is a fact which foreigners can understand, how- 
 ever little they can understand of political philosophy. This 
 appeal of interest^ coming in aid of their Abolition education, 
 renders almost every naturalized foreigner a certain ally of the 
 Abolition party. How soon, if the process of naturalizing for- 
 eigners continue, will the Abolitionists be rendered able to mod- 
 ify the Constitution of the United States to suit their own nefa- 
 rious and incendiary purposes against the slave-holding States.? 
 Every Southern man who advocates a continuance of the natu- 
 ralization of foreigners appears to me as with a drawn dagger 
 pressing the point with more and still more frenzy upon the 
 very vitals of his own interest and safety. Every new voter so 
 made may be regarded as another nail in the coffin of all that is 
 valuable in the peculiar lot of a Southerner. 
 
 Respectfully and affectionately your old friend and brother, 
 
 William Winans. 
 
 P. S.: I regret to have seen only your second address — per- 
 haps more properly the second part of your address — to the M. 
 E. Church, South. W. W. 
 
 Amite, Miss., October i6, 1S55. 
 
 Judge Longstreet's Reply. 
 
 Rev. William Winans^ D.D. — My Dear Old Friend : I received 
 your letter addressed to me throvigh the columns of the Natchez 
 Courier nearly three months ago, and I postponed my answer to 
 it, at first, that it might not appear just before the Mississippi 
 elections. Again, that it might not appear during the session of 
 the Memphis Conference, the Memfhis Appeal being the chosen 
 medium of its publication and the Oxford paper being then sus- 
 pended. And yet again, that it might appear during the winter 
 vacation of this institution. 
 
 In what follows I flatter myself that neither you nor the par- 
 ty which you serve will find any thing objectionable in the 
 motive which prompts it, whatever you may think of its matter 
 and form. The appearance of your letter (from a Whig) in a 
 paper published some hundred and forty or fifty miles from your 
 residence, edited by a Know-nothing candidate for Congress, 
 one of my most wanton and implacal)le nialigners, just in time to 
 spread fully over the State before the elections, was all doubtless 
 purely accidental. But allow me to felicitate you upon your 
 
TILT WITH DR, WINANS. 
 
 117 
 
 good fortune in having been led by your impartial judgment to 
 take sides with the Know-nothings against jour "dear old 
 friend " and brother; for had you happened to reverse your posi- 
 tion, your organ would have given you a specimen of its natural- 
 ized Southern sympathies that would have eaten into your ten- 
 der sensibilities like a screw-worm, and your Know-nothing 
 brethren would have taught you that love-feasts are poor con- 
 trivances to knit hearti* together compared with Know-nothing 
 lodges. 
 
 You regret that you have seen but one of my letters. So do 
 I. Had you seen them all, you would have had more charity for 
 my motives than you evince, and more charity for yourself than 
 to have dropped some expressions and intimations that I find 
 in your communication. You would have learned that my con- 
 troversy with the Know-nothings was not of my seeking. That 
 it was forced upon me by Know-nothing slanders, unmitigated 
 and unrelenting — slanders which struck at my dearest interests 
 and my most sacred relations. That I bore all these for a long 
 time in silence and in patience; even until I saw this "political 
 party," as you are pleased to call it, while protesting aloud 
 against my teaching of politics in the university, whispering 
 the students of my charge into its midnight gatherings and there 
 binding them by oath upon oath to everlasting fidelity to its own 
 political creed. I now spoke out boldly in my own defense and 
 against this party; not against its principles, but against its 
 mode of propagating them. In strict truth there was not one 
 word of folitics in my first letter, if I understand the term. I 
 said nothing about foreigners, and no more than this about^ 
 Catholics: "I am no Catholic. Put Methodism and Romanism' 
 on the field of fair argument, and I will stake my all upon the 
 issue; but I am not such a coward as to flee the field of honor- 
 able warfare for savage ambush fighting, or such a fool as to be- 
 lieve that a man's religion is to be reformed by harassing his 
 person. Nor am I quite so blind as not to see that\vhen the work 
 of crushing Churches is begun in the country it is not going to 
 stop with the overthrow of one." This was just such a letter as 
 you tell me v(?« would have indulged. Not so with either the 
 saints or sinners of the Know-notliing party. They assailed 
 me from all sides and in all modes. Not one of them gravely 
 answered my objections to the Know-nothing discipline and 
 dealings. They chose rather to assail mc personally in language 
 as unbecoming in them as it was undeserved by me. Even my 
 literary bagatelle^ the amusement of my idle hours five and twen- 
 ty years ago, was held up to view as a test of my fitness moral- 
 ly and intellectually for the sacred office and responsible station 
 
Il8 yUDCE LONGSTREET. 
 
 to Avhlch I have been called. And yet these public assaults, un- 
 detailed in their severity, were kind, courteous, and pious com- 
 pared with the private communications which were addressed to 
 nic under the authors' names in answer to this letter. The>' all 
 agreed, however, in one particular at least, and that was that if 
 I had never meddled with politics before I had done it now, and 
 that this was a crying sin in an instructor of youth. You per- 
 ceive then, brother, that you grossly misrepresent the Know- 
 nothings when you accord to me the right of opposing them in 
 any way. 
 
 That I should not have a very exalted opinion of them after 
 what I have suffered from them, I think you will own was quite 
 natural. Have a little charity for me then if *' no mandamus 
 from a bishop, no influence of a presiding elder, no dogmatism 
 or dictation of learned doctors," no combination of Christians 
 and politicians, no power of numbers, can awe me into respect 
 for them. 
 
 You say : " I defy you, my brother, to specify any thing in 
 Know-nothingism of equal turpitude [my italics] with this at- 
 tempt to enlist Church organization in a crusade against a folit- 
 tail party, no matter what that party may be," That was a hard 
 word, brother, which I underscored. It would have inspired 
 considerable indignation had you not been kind enough to em- 
 brace in its application Mr. Wesley, yourself, the main body of 
 your Church, and the whole body of Know-nothings. Mr. 
 Wesley endeavored to enlist not only his own people, but all 
 Americans, all Englishmen, and Irishmen against the Ameri- 
 ,can party of 1776. Was he guilty of turpitude in so doing? Nay, 
 my brother. Turpitude involves intetitional error, and oNIr. W^es- 
 ley was not the man to commit that. He really believed that 
 the colonies had no just grounds of revolt against the mother 
 country, that they were periling every thing valuable in Church 
 and State, every thing sacred in fraternal ties upon mere political 
 abstractions; and so believing he exerted his intiuence to its ut- 
 most extent to reduce the colonies to submission. That was the 
 noblest political party that ever was formed, and if it he turpi- 
 tude to enlist a Church organization against any jiolitical party, 
 no matter iv/int that party may be^ where does Mr. Wesley stand? 
 Is the modern American party (its name was Sam when I took 
 the pen against it) more holy, more pure, more noble, more dig- 
 nified than the old American party? If, then, I believed, as I 
 verily did believe, that the Know-nothings Mere about to rend 
 Cliurches, inflame passions, sunder friendships, and kindle the 
 flames of civil war, why might I not use my best endeavors to 
 turn our Church at least awav from it without incurring the 
 
A TILT WITH DR. W I NANS. 1 19 
 
 guilt of " turpitude? " But this is only bj the way. I will show 
 you presently that you have mistaken my designs in this Church 
 matter entirely. 
 
 Recapitulating the incidents which enlivened and cemented 
 our friendships (wherein you represented my feelings in de- 
 scribing your own), you say: "We together have warred strenu- 
 ously against the malignant tendencies of Abolition fanaticism, 
 and we suffered together in that ruthless warfare." True, your 
 efforts in that struggle were gallant, noble, powerful; mine were 
 the weakest of my life, and therefore to myself the most morti- 
 fying. But against whom were we contending, brother.'* 
 Against a political party which had brought its baneful principles 
 into our Church. What was our aim when argument failed to 
 exact justice from that party.'' To set all Southern Methodism, 
 all parties, all men who respected religion, right, and fair 
 dealing against it. What was the issue of our labors.^ The al- 
 most entire withdrawal of Southern and South-western Method- 
 ists from all connection with the Northern branch of our Church 
 and the establishment of an independent Southern Church 
 which hath no fellowship with it. Was there any turpitude in 
 all this.'' If there was, you were a much larger sharer in it than 
 I was, for you were by far the more etBcient laborer of the two. 
 And here let me remark in passing that one of my strongest 
 objections to Know-nothingism was that it united the main 
 body of the Southern Methodists in sworn bonds of fellowship 
 with that very party who had repelled them by proscription, 
 blistered them by calumny, and cabbaged all the partnership 
 fvmds. It was in the land of these law-despising, right-abusing 
 persecutors that Know-nothingism originated. Senator Adams's 
 information to the contrary notwithstanding. I cannot stop to 
 prove it at large. Suffice it for the present that Chase says it 
 originated in the " free States." The first Know-nothing formu- 
 lary of the Grand Council was issued from the press of Dam- 
 rell & Moore, No. 16 Devonshire Street, Boston. Baltimore 
 would not have sent its bantling to receive its swaddling-bands 
 in Boston. The infamous Judson (according to the papers) was 
 recently introduced to a council in Pennsylvania as the father 
 of the order, and he was received with plaudits. The thing has 
 no Southern feature. But enough of this. 
 
 I think I hazard nothing in saying that when I wrote my last 
 letter at least seven-tenths of the members of our Church had 
 joined this party. For Avhat.? To accomplish its avowed aims 
 of course. And what were they ? W^hy to " enlist " every Prot- 
 estant " Church Oi-ganization " in the land in a " crvisade against " 
 one of the weakest Churches, numerically, in the whole coun- 
 
I20 JVDdE LONGSTREET. 
 
 try. Here Avas the first object of the Know-nothing party, and 
 the second was to oppose foreigners. Will you say this is a com- 
 bination aoainst a Clturcli and not of a Cluircii against a party? 
 Which is the worst? Wliich savors most of turpitude? But, 
 unfortunately for the distinction, tlie combination is against a 
 political i)arty, too, as its acts demonstrably show, whatever 
 may be \\.^ professions. In honest truth this was the main, if not 
 the exclusive, object of it. The first intimation that the world 
 had of its existence was its onslaught upon Democrats in gen- 
 eral and Nebraska men in particular. And please remember as 
 we pass along who suffered first from it, when it had neither a 
 name nor a platform ; for wl^en asked why, fighting under an 
 anti-Catholic flag, they killed nobody but Democrats, they said it 
 was because the Democrats fought against them. 
 
 Now I suppose that an actual, existing, operative, sworn com- 
 bination of the kind is ten thovisand' times more reprehensible 
 than the simple endeavors of a single individual to enlist a 
 Church against a political party alone. 
 
 But startling and patricidal as is your doctrine in its afflica- 
 tion^ it is infinitely worse in the abstract. Turpitude to enlist (or 
 rather try to enlist) a Church organization "against" any party, 
 no matter iv/iat tliat party may be! Why, Doctor, such teaching 
 coming from you should raise a shout of triumph from all the 
 pirates, bandits, and assassins in the land. They have only to 
 combine, to concert their schemes in secret, and publish to'the 
 world a political platform, and it forthwith becomes criminal to 
 array a Church against them, or even to try to do it. A political 
 party may make hostility to Methodism an article of their creed, 
 and it would be criminal in me to advise my Church to oppose 
 it. The Know-nothings allow the Catholics to oppose them, and 
 where their vote counts heavily, even embrace them ; but you 
 would not allow even a Catholic to counsel his people against this 
 party. Your doctrine is monstrous, brother, and coming from 
 one of the best heads of our Chvirch it proves demonstratively 
 that Know-nothingism, as it was when I took the pen against it, 
 is indefensible. Whether it be right or wrong to array a Church 
 against a political party depends entirely upon the character of 
 that party. If it intermeddle with Churches, if it form coalitions 
 with Churches against a Church, if its professed object be to rob 
 a Church of its civil privileges, if it be immoral in its constitu- 
 tion and revolutionary in its tendencies, then it is the duty of 
 every Christian individually, and every Church collectively, to 
 oppose it. And if it displays all these uncomely features in the 
 only manifestations which it is pleased to make of itself while 
 it conceals from the public view its counsels, its plans, its ma- 
 
A TILT WITH DR. W I NANS, 121 
 
 chinery, and its membership, the duty becomes imperative, and 
 the more imperative the stronger the party. Such I regarded the 
 Know-notliings. It was reserved for this party to work in the 
 darli, to unite religion and politics, to gather recruits by whis- 
 pers, to nose for them abovit schools and colleges, to cement po- 
 litical bonds by oaths, to devise a plan whereby ministers of the 
 gospel might become politicians without reproof and persecute 
 without discovery, to pvit the consciences of some men in the 
 keeping of others, to bind its members not only to vote but to 
 fight under direction. Such the inner workings of the or- 
 der. What the outward.'' Hissing, bleating, and coughing 
 down such men as Wise and Douglass, destroying ballot-boxes, 
 and butchering in and around their blazing dwellings men, 
 women, and children. 
 
 It spreads its taint through all the departments of govern- 
 ment. Witness the scenes now enacting in Washington, the 
 legislation of Massachusetts, the criminal trials in New York. 
 Can a native expect justice from a judge or jury of foreigners, 
 or a foreigner from these native officials; a Protestant from 
 Catholics, or a Catholic from Protestants.-* At a trial in Massa- 
 chusetts, Know-nothings excused themselves from testifying to 
 facts important to justice on the ground that their testimony 
 would subject them to (Know-nothing) pains and penalties. 
 And the judge decided that these volunteer, self -assumed re- 
 sponsibilities placed the witnesses within the rule "that no man 
 is bound to testify to facts that will criminate himself." They 
 testified, however, very freely against the Catholic who was on 
 his trial. What confidence will those who remain in the lodges 
 have in those who left them.^ What confidence those who left 
 them in those who remain in them.? 
 
 Before the magnates of the order, gathered at Philadelphia, 
 were pleased to release the members (themselves included, of 
 course) from so much of their oaths as required them to con- 
 ceal their membership and the membership of their fellows, the 
 Know-nothings must have mustered at least 500,000 strong. It 
 is safe to assume that each one of them was questioned as to his 
 membership or the membership of others at least ten times on 
 an average. How did they meet these questions.? How were 
 
 they obliged to meet them under their oaths.? Why by . 
 
 What shall I call them, brother, to speak truth without giving 
 offense.? I will call them untruths^ knowing no softer name for 
 them. Here were 500,000 untruths, scattered broadcast over the 
 whole surface of the Union as the first-fruits of Know-nothing- 
 ism. Many, vei-y many, of them dropped from the lips of 
 Christians. How were the most of these 500,000 got into the or- 
 
122 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 dcr? By members pretending ignorance of it; for they were 
 under oath not to acknowledge their membership or to disclose 
 the secrets of the brotherhood. They mvist, therefore, have 
 been guilty of willful deception with every proselyte they 
 gained. Say that 300,000 were gained over in this way, and we 
 have 300,000 more untruths distributed through the country as 
 the price of so many converts to Know-nothingism. Thou- 
 sands and hundreds of thousands have left the order, and they 
 almost unanimously testify that they found it not to be what it 
 was represented to be. F^or a time all w^ho withdrew and spoke 
 against it w-ere denounced as perjured knaves and traitors. This 
 was true or false according as they found the thing to agree or 
 disagree with the representations of it made to them ; a candid 
 representation of it, as we have seen, could not have been made 
 to them by the law of the order. If true, Avhata liood of iniquity 
 poured out of the order when they left it! If false, what lan- 
 guage is too severe to characterize the calumny heaped upon 
 them by their recent brethren! 
 
 Mr. Simon Wolf, of Pennsylvania, who Writes like a man of 
 wisdom and truth, after detailing the flattering but delusive rep- 
 resentations by which he was induced to join the Know-noth- 
 ings, thus concludes: *'/ noxv declare that in a life of sixty years I 
 have never found in private or in public^ in politics or out of it, iji 
 Church or in State, as much deceit, falsehood, and corruption as / 
 found in the self-styled '•American party. ^ " 
 
 To this let me add the testimony of a man a little older than 
 Mr. Wolf, who never did join the American party: " I was born 
 and raised (ii Mr. Hillyer please: see Worcester, Mr. H.) in the 
 State of Georgia, where there are now over forty-three thou- 
 sand Know-nothings, not one of whom, I will ventvire to say, * 
 will assert that he knows a blemish on my moral character. I 
 have mingled much and disputed much in politics, and more in 
 law. I have been twenty-eight years a member of the Method- 
 ist Church, and sixteen years a minister of the gospel, and I 
 never was called a dotard or fool, or likened to a clown under 
 men's own signatures, or charged with falsehood and turpitude 
 by Methodist preachers until I came in conflict with Know- 
 nothing^s; nor have I ever been, in the whole course of my 
 life, as much calumniated as I have been by Know-nothings 
 and their champions in the last nine months. Never did I see 
 such an intolerant, arrogant, insolent, overbearing, inconsistent, 
 vindictive party as this. It belies me into opposition to it, 
 and then tells me that as a minister of the gospel I have no 
 right to meddle with politics. I reply, then, that the hundreds 
 of preachers who are in it should conie out of it. It rejoins that 
 
A TtLT WITH DR. WINANS. 1 23 
 
 it is religions in its character. I again respond that if it be relig- 
 ious I surely, as a religious man, have a right to discuss its or- 
 thodoxy, and to counsel my brethren who belong to it. And it 
 again repeats that it is political! Its religion is reduced to one 
 article: 'No office for Catholics;' so of its politics: * No office 
 for foreigners.' Its religious exercises consist {occasionally) \n 
 rummaging into ladies' wardrobes, riding Catholics on rails, 
 mocking their services, assaulting their persons, and battering 
 their houses of worship. Its political exercises consist {occasion- 
 ally) in killing foreigners, firing their houses, and giving their 
 bodies to the flames. Its professed instrument of reform is the 
 ballot-box, and if the b.-illot-box will not work to its liking, it 
 destroys the ballot-box. One would suppose that a party might 
 determine not to vote for Catholics or foreigners without any 
 apprehension of more serious opposition than is common to po- 
 litical parties generally; and certainly had the Know-nothings 
 done no more than this, I should never have interfered with 
 them. But what do they do.? Why, they substitute a new gov- 
 ernment for that which our fathers'bequeathed to us— a govern- 
 ment secret in its operations, despotic in its principles, and rev- 
 olutionary in its tendency. Hear the sovereign power speak: 
 'This organization \not party ^ brother] should be known by the 
 name of the Grand Council of the United States of Amer- 
 ica, and \i& jurisdiction and /t^Tc^'r shall extend to all the States, 
 Districts, and Territories of the United States of North Amer- 
 ica.' This Grand Council is composed of a President, Vice- 
 president, Secretary, and other officers with fixed salaries, and 
 a Congress of delegates from the States. This Council has 
 'power to form State, Territorial and District Councils;' to de- 
 termine the 'mode of punishment of members^ etc.; to grant char- 
 ters to subordinate Councils that may be formed; 'to adopt 
 cabalistic characters for writing or telegraphing ; ' ' to decide 
 UPON all matters pertaining to national politics; '(!) 'to 
 fix and establish all signs, grips, pass-words, and such other se- 
 cret ivork as may scent to be necessary ; ' ' TO adopt any and ev- 
 ery measure it may deem necessary to secure the success 
 OF the organization.' We know the emanations from this 
 august sovereignty— State, county, beat, and city governments 
 all over the country — subjects sworn to paramount allegiance 
 to these governments, taxed to pay their expenses, branded as 
 perjurers and traitors if they disclose their secrets." 
 
 From the volume of affidavits published by the Louisville your- 
 nal to show that foreigners were the aggressors in the Louisville 
 riots, thereis one which is of awful import and painful instruc- 
 tion. It is that of Thomas Jeffrey and Robert H. Haines, who 
 
124 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 testify that they xvcre door-keepers of the Seventh Ward foils ; that 
 the nde rvas to" admit not more than fifteen or sixteen at a time; 
 that an Irishman insisted on passing Avhen seventeen were in; 
 tliat he beeame boisterous, -when Thomas Jeffrey, to /rct-^w^ vio- 
 Icnee, struck him on the head. This from Know-nothings! 
 
 Now, sir, if you can find nothing worse in all this than an 
 appeal from me to my Church to have no connection with 
 Know-nothingism, you are not to be argued with. If you be- 
 lieve that all this political machinery was manufactured and set 
 in operation merely to keep Catholics and foreigners out of 
 ortice, you have a much more contemptuous opinion of Know- 
 nothing sagacity than I have. You stultify them, while I only 
 oppose them. From their peculiar idiosyncrasies they will 
 doubtless give the preference to you, but whether any other 
 party would do it is questionable. If you can see no difference 
 between such a combination and parties generally, and it is 
 plain that you do not, you should not have referred to your own 
 " history " to prove that you " consider it the right of Christians 
 and Christian preachers to meddle with politics;" for it proves 
 something more than your liberality, to wit: that when 3'ou 
 "meddled with politics " you did both politics and yourself a 
 sad disservice. (I believe the people of your district forestalled 
 this inference, didn't they, brother.?) 
 
 You say, in continuation of what I have just quoted from 
 you, " But I do not believe that a Church organization has such 
 right; nor, pardon my frankness, that any man can excite a 
 Church to such a course without political delinquency, which I 
 will not characterize as I think it deserves." You certainly 
 have the most profound reverence for political parties of any 
 man of your " history " that ever lived. In the defense of them 
 you seem to forget all the interests of self-respect, all the duties 
 of your calling, all the claims of brotherhood, and all the rules, 
 not to say decencies, of controversy. You had already charged 
 me with turpitude — i. <?., "w ith moral baseness, extreme depravi- 
 ity — and here you insinuate that there is yet something in the 
 act thus characterized so unspeakably depraved that even your 
 lips refuse to give to it its proper name. Flanked as you are by 
 a legion of Know-nothing Methodists, and very many legions 
 of Know-nothing politicians, you may feel confident of your 
 security in the Church and of a clever popular support while 
 you indulge in such defamation of a brother. But you would 
 do well to remember that there is another tribunal not far dis- 
 tant from you and me, where woids are not weighed by the 
 standard of Methodism or the world. 
 
 Did you understand my letter, simply because it was headed 
 
A TILT WITH DR. WINANS. 1 25 
 
 *'To the Methodist Church, South," as designed to excite the 
 Church in its corporate character, and through its otficial or- 
 gans, its bishops, and its Conferences to take action against the 
 Know-nothings? It would seem so; and if this be jour idea, 
 I do more than pardon jour candor: I commiserate jour under- 
 derstanding. Where do jou find the word or sjllable in mj 
 whole piece which indicates such a design? He who addresses 
 a Church addresses the members thereof; and in what char- 
 acter the J are addressed, whether as an " organization " or as 
 individuals, is to be collected from the bodj of the address, and 
 not from the caption alone. Had jou read mj letter with anj 
 other design than to find in it grounds of censure and abuse, 
 JOU would have seen clearlj that its whole and sole aim was 
 to get the preachers and members of our Church out of and 
 awaj from a political partj, and into their appropriate work, 
 not to excite a Church organization against a political partj. 
 But then jou would have lost the laurels which jou have 
 gained in this contest, the everlasting gratitude of the Know- 
 nothings, and the thanksgiving of one or two hundred thou- 
 sand Methodists for jour unlooked for interposition in their be- 
 half. 
 
 The very first sentence in mj letter showed jou it was one 
 of a series, the antecedents of which had been addressed to the 
 preachers of our Church. Had jou seen these, jou would have 
 found that thej were addressed to "77/^ Knoxv-nothing Frcacli- 
 crs " exclusivelj. This is decisive of the fact that, however jou 
 maj have understood it, mj design was not to act upon the 
 Church in its aggregate character at all, or to unite it in action 
 at all. Yovn- positions are as preposterous as jour language is 
 unbecoming: "Worse than anj thing in Know-nothingism, 
 formallv to address a Church in its aggregate capacity upon a 
 POLITICAL question [italics and capitals jours]! Could jou 
 succeed in this design [of arrajing the Church against the 
 American partj], the very fountain of political power would be 
 immediatelj poisoned bj a union of Church and State! " Did 
 such paradoxes ever come from a doctor of divinitj? I sup- 
 posed a man in this country might address anj person, anj 
 number of persons, in anj character, upon anj subject without 
 crime, if the address be not of a nature forbidden bj the laws 
 of the land. Dwight used to discuss politics with his pupils. 
 Everett, Wajland, Cooper, and other Presidents of colleges have' 
 written on politics without blame, but the like privilege is not 
 granted to me — very far from it. I maj not speak or write on 
 politics either to the public or to my Church: not to the public, 
 bj the edict of the Know-nothings"^; not to the Church, bj the 
 
126 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 bull of Doctor Winans. I should have thought you a hard 
 master, Doctor, had you believed that mj letter was likely to 
 array our Church bodily against the party of your love. But 
 3'ou tell me cuttingly that no power on earth could do that. 
 What, then, is the sin for which you anathematize me so cru- 
 elly.'' Why, I wrote a letter which mighty pcrc/iatice, lead the 
 public to suspect that / tJiouglit it -ivas possible for somebody to move 
 the M. E. Church, South, conglomeratedfy against a political par- 
 ty. Papal supremacy would be a luxury compared with your 
 government, brother, if this be a specimen of it. 
 
 But suppose that every Methodist in the United States could 
 be induced to take a united stand against the American party, 
 how would this produce a union of Church and State? What 
 legislative, executive, or judicial power would attach to them 
 in this position, or what attribute of a State would they assume.'* 
 The only possible result of this state of things must be that the 
 members of the Church would either not vote at all or vote 
 against that party. How near this would bring the Church and 
 State together, I leave you to determine. 
 
 In all that I have written you will not find a word or syllable 
 which intimates a design on my part to interfere with my breth- 
 ren's right of suffrage, or their right, in a proper manner, to dis- 
 cuss political questions or to oppose Catholics. It is their clan- 
 ship with all characters, their letting themselves down to Know- 
 nothing drills, their night-working, their needless swearing, 
 their man-serving, party-scheming, office-hunting, stump-speak- 
 i;ig, anger-stirring, brother-wounding, and Church-inflaming 
 that I objected to. 
 
 Now I put it to you as a man and Christian to say whether 
 these things are right in your brethren. You will not, you dare 
 not, say so. Then why do you countenance them.? You have 
 taken very good care (as you are particular in letting the public 
 know) to keep j^ourself aloof from the signs and grips and pass- 
 words and squalls and oaths and flag-fribble of the order, and 
 yet you hold me up to the public as a culprit for counseling our 
 brethren to follow your example. How far you are competent 
 to defend the order, when confessedly you do not belong to it, 
 I leave the public to determine. 
 
 As to your fears of the Catholics from their increase, etc., 
 Mr. Wesley gives yovx a recipe for them, for the success of 
 ■which iie pledges his life. He guarantees that, if strictly fol- 
 lowed, it will insure the conversion of every Catholic. Here it 
 ii; "Let all the Protestant clergy live like the apostles and 
 preach like the apostles, the thing is done." IVIost certain it is 
 that Know-nothingism, which fellowships with them where 
 
A TILT WITH DR. W I NANS. 1 27 
 
 they are strong and persecutes them where they are weak, mid- 
 night conspiracies to rob them of their constitvitional rights, 
 personal violence, mockery, ridicule, and contempt will never 
 check their growth or bring their religion into discredit. If I 
 wished to raise Romanism on the ruins of Protestantism, these 
 are precisely the agencies that I would adopt. 
 
 A. B. LONGSTREET. 
 
 University of Mississippi, December 19, 1855. 
 
THE BURSTING OF THE STORM. 
 
 EVENTS hastened to their inevitable culmination, 
 and in 1861 the war-cloud burst in all its fury. 
 Judge Longstreet seems to have grasped the real 
 situation, and had a prophetic perception of what 
 was coming. South CaroHna and the Federal 
 Government were on the perilous edge of a conflict 
 of arms. True to his sense of duty, he made an 
 earnest appeal to the State authorities in behalf of 
 a policy of watchfulness, patience, and prudence. 
 He issued a pamphlet headed with the interroga- 
 tion, ''''Shall South Carolina Begin the Warf^' in 
 which he gives a picture of matters as they stood, 
 and aforegleam of impending calamities so graphic 
 and so prescient that it is here given to the reader 
 in full: 
 
 *' Shall South Carolina Begin the War? 
 
 " I pray the authorities and people of South Car- 
 olina to put aside passion and hear patiently and 
 thoughtfully what I have to say upon the- present 
 critical position of our beloved State. The chances 
 are that I am wrong in my views, for so far as I 
 have been enabled to collect the popular sentiment 
 in this quarter at least eight out of ten of the wisest 
 heads of the land are against me, and I have 
 reached that period of life when the wisdom of 
 age begins to give place to its weaknesses. But 
 (128) 
 
THE BURSTING OF THE STORM 
 
 129 
 
 the correctness of opinions is not to be estimated 
 by number or by age, but by the standard of rea- 
 son, and to this standard I would respectfully in- 
 vite all who differ with me. This much is certain, 
 that almost every man with whom I have conversed 
 upon the points of difference between us shows 
 manifest ♦excitement — the poorest accompaniment 
 of reason and argument that could be selected 
 from the armory of mind. 
 
 *' It seems to be generally understood (and ap- 
 proved of) that if the ' Harriet Lane' attempts to en- 
 ter this port she will be fired into ; and, if rumor is to 
 be credited, this is to be done without parley or ex- 
 planations. If I have not lost my senses, this is the 
 most dangerous, useless, ill-advised measure which 
 could possibly be adopted just at this time. Thus 
 far the war between South Carolina and the Fed- 
 eral Government has been constructive; the first 
 gun fired makes it actual. Thus far South Caro- 
 lina has maintained a purely defensive position; 
 this measure is openly aggressive and is to draw 
 the first blood from a citizen of the United States 
 and, for aught that we know, from some champion 
 of the cause of South Carolina. The character in 
 which the ' Harriet Lane ' approaches us we do not 
 know, and cannot know if she comes with sealed 
 instructions. 
 
 *'This thing is to be done just as four States are 
 hastening to our embrace as fast as they can come, 
 and when it is almost certain that all the slave 
 States will be united with us in one grand Confed- 
 eracy in less than three months; and after our 
 warmest supporters among them have implored us 
 9 
 
130 JUDdE LONiiSTREET. 
 
 to wait for concert of action with them, when the 
 Northern States are still obedient to the Federal 
 Government, and likely to be while Buchanan re- 
 mains in office ; when that government is reeling, 
 and in two months' time may become impotent for 
 good or evil; when South Carolina is the peculiar 
 object of Black Republican vengeance, £yid when 
 they want only a tolerable pretext to visit her with 
 a war of extermination before the other States can 
 in due form come to her help; when all the help 
 she can hope for is impotent at sea. Her aggress- 
 ive step will alarm the States which are at the point of 
 secession, and perchance kindle dissension in their 
 bosoms, certainly enkindle their ire against her. 
 It will unite the North and the world against her. 
 It will verify the dismal predictions of the submis- 
 sionists, and blast the reputation of the secession- 
 ists. It will precipitate South Carolina from the 
 highest pinnacle of fame to the lowest depths of 
 humiliation. When I think of the probability of it, 
 my soul is so heavily burdened with the awful re- 
 sponsibilities of the act that I can hardly bring my 
 thoughts to decent order or my pen to decent 
 style. If nothing else would stay the act, I would 
 cheerfully surrender the power of speech and of 
 hearing for the balance of my life to avert it. What 
 do the advocates of this desperate measure promise 
 themselves from it? * It will unite the Southern 
 States.' Are they not united already? Do not the 
 rankest cowards say there must be resistance? 
 Does one of them disapprove of the step which 
 South Carolina has taken save as to time? And 
 has she not, up to this time, repelled the objections 
 
THE BURSTING OF THE STORM. 13I 
 
 to her haste? Her people forced her to quick se- 
 cession, and here they were satisfied with dispatch 
 and perfectly wiUing to wait the action of her sis- 
 ter States. Their representatives have been in no 
 hurry. Why, then, just as we are about to reap the 
 best fruits of our labors, are we going to become 
 rash indeed and fling them away for the apples of 
 Sodom? May God save us from this measure! 
 Take away the apology of ' uniting the South, 
 and the act stands before the world without ex- 
 cuse. , 
 
 *« You cannot say that the ' Harriet Lane_ comes 
 with a warlike intent; and if you could, firing into 
 her is not going to defeat her intent, or advance 
 the independence of South Carohna the thou- 
 sandth part of a hair's breadth. But it will fur- 
 nish your enemy with an admirable apology for 
 fining your harbor with armed ships, turning Sum- 
 ter upon Moultrie, laying waste your city, and lin- 
 ing your coast with Republican hirehngs. Hire- 
 lings! Ay, when the war opens, it is to^be 
 between the bright and gallant sons of South Car- 
 ohna and these hirehngs. Woe to the people who 
 bring on such a conflict but from dire necessity ! 
 Is it necessary? No, no, no ! It is not only boot- 
 less, desperate, but wholly unnecessary. Mr. 
 Buchanan says he does not mean to attack any 
 State for seceding. All the Black Repubhcan 
 presses say the same thing. But they mean to 
 collect the revenues. This, to be sure, is war 
 in disguise; but practically it is harmless, and we 
 will be able to keep it in disguise until the proper 
 time for us to strip the monster of its veil. The 
 
132 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 Black Republicans think and hope that when their 
 collector is sent here the State will deal with him 
 in some way that will justify open war upon us. 
 To fire into the vessel that brings him is exactly 
 the thing which they want. Hence the vessel that 
 is coming is named, her dispatches are hid from 
 public view (they may be peaceful or belligerent: 
 something seemingly peaceful will be put into them 
 for future uses), the collector is named. Now, for 
 God's sake, people of South Carolina, do not fall 
 into this trap. Let the collector come, let him land, 
 treat him politely, introduce him to Mr. Colcock, 
 and tell him you hope the collectors of the two 
 sovereignties will settle their respective claims in 
 the spirit of courtesy and kindness. Do this, and 
 the President and the Republicans will be beauti- 
 fully checkmated. All the time consumed in these 
 courtesies will be bringing on your allies. The 
 end of it will be that the revenues will be collect- 
 ed out at sea. 
 
 *' Be it so; let them have them; let your com- 
 merce go on until our Confederacy is formed. 
 Before that time floating custom-houses will be 
 strung all along our Southern coast, and we will 
 have a Confederacy of the cotton-growing States. 
 Even then I would not precipitate a war. The 
 new Confederacy will certainly be acknowledged 
 by France and England, and they will enter into 
 treaties of commerce with us, by which they will 
 obligate themselves to push the floating custom- 
 houses aside and open a glorious traffic with us. 
 Thus, by a little delay and the forfeiture of the 
 customs for a few months, we gain every thing we 
 
THE BURSTING OF THE STORM. 133 
 
 desire without the loss of one drop of blood, with- 
 out spoihng our harbors, and without interrupting 
 our commerce for a single hour. 
 
 "And now for the tickhsh point: suppose they 
 come to strengthen the posts. If the salvation of 
 the world depended upon it, could you prevent 
 them from so doing? If you could not, why would 
 you waste blood and treasure in attempting to do 
 it? Is it any disgrace not to initiate a hopeless 
 conflict? Any nation would be excused for declin- 
 ing such a conflict, but no nation could be excused 
 for beginning it. What must be thought of the 
 nation who would begin it on the water without a 
 gun-boat or a sailor to sustain it? and what sort of 
 a beginning of it will it be to fire a few useless 
 shots at a mere government cutter? Provoke 
 open and unequal war to prevent the strengthen- 
 ing of a fort which is already too strong for us I 
 Here is the beginning and the end of the plan pro- 
 posed : Fire a few worthless shots at a vessel, set 
 Sumter to firing upon Moultrie, hold Moultrie till 
 some hundreds of our sons are buried in its ruins, 
 then desert it, and wait the wrath of the United 
 States upon our devoted city ! If all the forts were 
 crammed full of men, they would not attack the city 
 unless first attacked. If we were sure they would, 
 we cannot prevent it. Why, then, in the name of 
 God, bring on a war of such fearful consequences ! 
 If you mean to hold Fort Moultrie, I implore you 
 to let the first shot come from the enemy. Burn 
 that precept into yoicr hearts, if you despise all else 
 that I have zvrittcn. But I would abandon it now, 
 putting it just as Anderson left it. But no ; it must 
 
134 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 be held, desperate as is the tenure, or we shall be 
 called cowards. Fools may so call you, no wise 
 man will. * It must end in a war,' says one, * and 
 we'd as well bring it on at once.' It never will 
 end in a war if the South will be prudent, and we 
 must let no Southern State begin it; and if a South- 
 ern State is to begin it, let her not begin it on the 
 water. A. B. Longstreet." 
 
 But it was too late. The crash came. The long 
 and bloody war followed, and its history is before 
 the world. Taking the advice he had given them, 
 the students of the South Carolina College took 
 the field at the first blast of the war-trumpet. The 
 institution was suspended, and Judge Longstreet 
 went to Oxford, Miss., drawn thither by the fact 
 that this was the residence of both his daughters. 
 In December, 1862, the Federal troops occupied 
 that portion of Mississippi, and he refugeed to 
 Georgia. In January, 1863, he was in Oxford, 
 Ga. In August of that year he was at Covington, 
 and in May, 1864, he was at Columbus, staying 
 with Mr. Early Hurt. During this *' refugeeing " 
 he was entertained by old friends and kinsfolk, and 
 he was frequently afterward heard to speak of 
 their boundless hospitality and kindness to him. 
 
 The hopes and fears, the triumphs and defeats, 
 the joys and agonies of those eventful years may 
 not be written here. Judge Longstreet was in full 
 sympathy with his people, and the final defeat was 
 inexpressibly bitter to him. But neither during all 
 the years of the conflict nor at its close did his 
 trust in God for one moment fail. When the 
 
THE BURSTING OF THE STORM. 135 
 
 Southern Confederacy fell, he returned to Missis- 
 sippi a disappointed and chastened man, but with 
 unfaltering faith and undimmed Christian hope. 
 
 Does any reader charge Judge Longstreet with 
 inconsistency? Does this plea for prudence and 
 a peaceful policy make a striking contrast with the 
 fiery baccalaureate address of 1859? The charge 
 is not denied. But he was inconsistent only as all 
 earnest and impulsive spirits were inconsisent at 
 that time, changing their policy and their voices 
 with the ever varying phases of the irrepressible 
 conflict. A man who speaks out of his heart just 
 what he feels at all times will not escape the im- 
 putation of inconsistency in this changeful world. 
 The only thoroughly consistent man is the one who 
 feels nothing, says nothing, and does nothing. 
 Judge Longstreet was not that sort of man. Driv- 
 en by the gale, with chopping seas, he would reef 
 sails and tack ship, and even lighten cargo some- 
 what to make a peaceful port. 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 
 
 AMONG the papers that escaped the fire that de- 
 stroyed Judge Longstreet's writings was found 
 a pamphlet containing his reply to a Mr. Charles 
 Reemelin, of Cincinnati, O., a gentlemanly infidel 
 who had criticised sharply but cautiously a paper 
 published in the Nineteenth Century Magazine of 
 April, 1870, in which he (Judge Longstreet) gave 
 his Christian experience (quoted in a former chap- 
 ter of this book). The pamphlet is reproduced 
 without change or abridgment except the omission 
 of one clause of a sentence which breathes an as- 
 perity of feeling natural enough then but out of 
 place here. Mr. Reemelin, it seems, was in polit- 
 ical sympathy with Judge Longstreet, and respond- 
 ed approvingly to his rather caustic strictures upon 
 the course of man}^ Northern preachers toward the 
 South, and sought to base thereupon an argument 
 against Christianity. The loyalty of Judge Long- 
 street to the Lord Jesus Christ is delightfully man- 
 ifested in the way he treats this attempt to make a 
 flank movement upon his faith as a Christian, and 
 he promptly runs up the red flag of battle in de- 
 fense of the truth of the gospel. He was fortified 
 against all such assaults by a genuine Christian 
 experience. The elect cannot be deceived. Who 
 are the elect? The elect are those who have the 
 witness in themselves. Judge Longstreet was not 
 (136) 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 137 
 
 singular in this experience. The great body of 
 Christian people of the South, though their hopes 
 were disappointed and their prayers were not an- 
 swered in the way they desired, were unshaken in 
 their belief in God and trust in his providence. 
 They were shocked, stunned for the moment; but 
 being rooted and grounded in the faith of the gos- 
 pel, they quickly rallied the spiritual forces that 
 are hid with Christ in God, beyond the reach of 
 all external calamity, and during the quarter of a 
 century that has followed they have made a history 
 that vindicates their character as a Christian peo- 
 ple and challenges the respect of the world. The 
 process of reconstruction was incomplete when 
 Judge Longstreet wrote his reply to his Cincinnati 
 friend. The Christian statute of limitations should 
 cover much that was said on both sides during those 
 stormy times. And so it does with the best men on 
 both sides who are now clasping hands in a fra- 
 ternity that is hearty and holy, and will last. Many 
 of the honest ultraists during the fight made the 
 truest conservatives after it was over. They were 
 men of principle, and fought for principle. The 
 soldiers of fortune, turncoats, and the tardy or 
 compulsory converts on either side often made up 
 in malevolence what they lacked in honest convic- 
 tion. Judge Longstreet was always reckoned 
 among the most advanced adherents of the school 
 of State rights, and to his dying day never expressed 
 or felt a doubt as to the soundness of his opinions. 
 If he had felt any misgivings, we may be sure he 
 would have let it be known: he was incapable of 
 deceit and unused to concealment. He died cher- 
 
138 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ishing the opinions that had grown with his growth 
 and strengthened with his strength from boyhood. 
 If he were Hving now, two things might safely be 
 assumed concerning him: first, that he would have 
 no apology to make for any thing honestly said or 
 done by him in the past; second, that he would 
 not be behind the foremost rank of those who, in 
 this new and happier time, are marching hand in 
 hand and heart to heart in the path that leads to a 
 perfect national brotherhood and a unified Chris- 
 tianity. He was intense and outspoken, but not 
 narrow or blind. The acid that drops from his 
 pen-point was the distillation of the times; the truth 
 for which he mainly contends is as eternal as its 
 Source. With these suggestions, perhaps not un- 
 called for, the reader is left to judge for himself 
 between Mr. Reemelin and Judge Longstreet. 
 
 "Old Things Become New." 
 
 Controversies should be avoided between friends, for thej' are 
 likely to lead to animosities; bi;t there are persons to whom we 
 feel obliged to explain ourselves even at the risk of a controver- 
 sy, because we respect their opinions. The article under the 
 above heading, in the April number of the Nineteenth Century^ 
 is written by such a gentleman, and deserves such a notice. 
 
 Judge Longstreet, the writer of the article, has all the charac- 
 teristics of a person whose convictions on any subject are from 
 his very nature deeply religious, and he, perhaps, not knowing 
 it. His strength and his weakness lie in this: his intensifica- 
 tion in all things. The first, because he espouses every cause 
 with sincere fervor; the second, because his zeal obscures his 
 vision, so that he sees both too much and too little of any sub- 
 ject which, for the time being, engages his mind. And to his 
 friends it is really diflicult to decide whether to love him most 
 for his vigor or his softness. This is our difficulty ; for he asks 
 us, placing us in conjunction with Agassiz and Ileinzen, to not 
 disenchant him of his delusion, as he pleadingly calls it — mean- 
 ing his faith fn a God, a Mediator between God and man, and 
 the Christian religion. It is not for us to object to being men- 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 1 39 
 
 tioned in the same breath, with the two great men just named, 
 as if we were one in purpose with them, but doubtless they 
 would Mr. Agassiz is a regular scientific man, we are an am- 
 ateur, and Mr. lieinzen soars so high for liberty that we can 
 hardly see him, much less loosen the latches of his shoes. 
 
 Dropping the others and speaking for ourselves alone, we say 
 that surely we respect every man's religious ideas, and the 
 iudge may keep all his religious views for all we care; for, as 
 we have already intimated, the gentleman is nothmg if he be 
 not religious, and we love him too much to wish him to be 
 nothing^ But this solicitude for him, according to the very 
 tones of his character, cannot with propriety impose upon us 
 entire silence, especially when we know that our observations 
 will do the gentleman much good without at all upsetting any 
 of his idealities. , ^ i. i 
 
 We allow ourselves, therefore, to remark, m the first place 
 that it has always been marvelous to us that minds like those of 
 Stonewall Tackson, Jefferson Davis, Bishop Polk, and A. B. 
 Longstreet did not see from the first that their most V^jelent- 
 in<T foes came from Northern Christian Churches. Ihe fact 
 thSt the first split between North and South occurred in the 
 several religious sects might have led any discerning mmd to 
 see that the subsequent political imbroglio was an inevitable se- 
 quence of the former. The only reason why we had no open 
 religious war was because our religious governments had no 
 carnal weapons of their own. The Federal Government was 
 made to carry on the war as an after-thought, but that did not 
 make it an actual civil war any more than the Thirty \ cars War 
 was such because emperors, kings, and dukes earned it on. 
 
 The founder of the Christian religion spoke, in all innocence 
 we admit, the fatal words that have made the Christian relig- 
 ion a sword instead of a pacificator to mankind. Christ said: 
 " Go ye into the world, and preach the gospel." That order 
 to his apostles, taken up by their successors (the priests), has 
 cost the people of Europe rivers of blood. Under it all their an- 
 cient natural religious and ethical development has been up- 
 rooted, as far as zealous clergy could do so; and my native land 
 is yearning to-day, if she but understood her innermost long- 
 ing for her own religion; and mv mind could never distinguish 
 why' it was wrong for Varus to bring us Roman civilization if it 
 was rio-ht in St. Boniface to carry to us Roman religion. 
 
 In our humble opinion, the most precious right of a people is 
 their own self-development ih law and ethics. That right is no 
 rio-ht if the Christian idea is correct that all mankind are to 
 hJve'but one religion, and that the sooner this happens the bet- 
 
140 JUDGE LONaSTREET. 
 
 tcr. We hold this notion to be both erroneous and destructive 
 of human peace. We cannot, of course, argue that question 
 now /// cxtcnso^ for it would lead us away from the very point 
 we must, in kindness to Southern minds, enforce. It is this: 
 that all our contests with the South originate in the spirit which 
 is nursed by the words of Christ which we have quoted. The 
 Abolitionists were, in their minds, but Christian missionaries, 
 and sent by precisely the same people who support Christian 
 missions in foreign lands; and does not the whole system of 
 ISIissions rest on the denial of the right of every people to gov- 
 ern themselves.^ Docs it not rest on the assumption that cer- 
 tahi portions of mankind have a superior religion suitable for 
 all mankind, and which should be universally imposed.-* 
 
 This claim of superiority did not originate with Christ; it 
 was the fundamental idea of Abraham, and it is the basis of all 
 Moses enjoined upon the Jews. Under it, he ordered the Jews 
 to coinmit cruelties so revolting that they themselves recoiled 
 from them under Joshua; and instead of killing all the old so- 
 journers of the holy land, made humane agreements with them. 
 
 The Mosaic idea had, however, a circumscribed location, and 
 it was comparatively harmless as it enjoined no aggressors on 
 any other nations than the dwellers in Canaan; but Christ and 
 St. Paul especially gave it universality, making proselytes be- 
 come, in pursuance thereof, a favorite Christian occupation, and 
 any one mingling much with zealous Christians must, if he do 
 not flee for shelter to some sect, have felt the offensiveness 
 Avhich is always a part of their character. That offensiveness 
 brought on our Civil War. 
 
 The very fundamental principle of our Federal Government 
 — to wit, that that government is, and ought to be, one of strict- 
 ly limited fvmctions, and that each State has a right to deter- 
 mine for itself its OAvn religious, social, and political laws — is 
 diametrically opposed to the Christian religion, for its basis is 
 unity, not union. 
 
 The people of the several States might have seen long ago 
 this antagonism ; but they were so blinded by their success, 
 which, by the by, never was caused by our institutions, but ex- 
 isted in spite of them, that they failed to see the very plainest 
 indications of the direction whence came the irrepressible con- 
 flict. Nine-tenths of the clergy of America were alwavs dis- 
 loyal to our P'ederal Union ; they were and are loyal to the unity 
 of a civil government, provided it recognizes the Bible as the 
 standard of truth. We know that there were some ministers 
 Avho were true to an honest construction of our Constitution, 
 but they were the exceptions, even in the South. 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 141 
 
 Judge Longstreet Avas one of these; but whj? Because his 
 mind needed a fervor which, under his education, he believed 
 that he had to seek in religion. Had he analyzed his inner 
 self, and had it ever become entirely clear that his religion was 
 really religiosity, and that it needed only an object to break 
 forth, he would then have understood that he would satisfy the 
 longings of his mind in ethics and politics, as indeed he had to 
 do when the Northern iron entered his soul. 
 
 And right here we claim the privilege to reiterate what we 
 have said previously in our essay on Church and State — viz., 
 that nearly every human problem is in essence always a relig- 
 ious problem. The modern distinction between politics and 
 religion is very apt to mislead, and is in fact the great stum- 
 bling-block in the popular mind. All the progress in our age 
 proceeds directly from two developments: P'irst, an extension 
 of the sphere of knowledge, and consequently a diminution in 
 the sphere of dogmatism, being really what we call religion; 
 and, secondly, by a largely increased production of wealth 
 through the sciences and mechanics. 
 
 Our friend exhibits (on page 847) the usual adroitness of re- 
 ligionists. He attributes all the bad among men to some in- 
 herent human viciousness, and he calls it " selfishness." We 
 would not interpose one word of objection if we thought that 
 he uses the word (selfishness) in the sense of an undue, excess- 
 ive self-love, one that violates the rights of others to secure its 
 own ends; but we see too plainly that he employs the word in 
 the usual clerical way, as if self-love was fer se sinful. The 
 Christian Church has always confounded the two words, and 
 from this cause it has fostered an asceticism — yea, a cynicism — 
 with a minimum of human enjoyment, and declared it a meri- 
 torious practice. That has always been, and is to-day, in the 
 way of all human advancement, wherever it has existed or docs 
 exist. In this country Methodism has carried it out most zeal- 
 ously, and teetotalism, an austere Sabbath, and other narrow dis- 
 ciplines have gi'own out of it. 
 
 Self-love and selfishness are, however, two very different things. 
 The first is a dut}', the second a vice. From the proper pursuit of 
 the first spring all the enjoyments of the human race; from the 
 unchecked pursuit of the second, all its miseries. This distinc- 
 tion underlies all social life and all public authority. How to 
 free proper self-love, and how to limit selfishness, is the funda- 
 mental criterion of all good ethics. Our history illustrates this 
 on every page. The United States were united and happy while 
 all the people in every State were allowed to have free self-love; 
 they became divided and miserable the more certain people were 
 
142 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 permitted to carry out their selfishness. There is not an abuse 
 of Federal authority which does not originate in sectional selfish- 
 ness, while on the other hand the exercise of all the legitimate 
 functions is less compatible with self-love. The tariff, organized 
 office-seeking, corrupt conti-acts, interference with slavery, had 
 all one fountain — Northern selfishness — while Jefferson's and 
 Jackson's votes, and the resistance of the South in loose con- 
 structions of the Constitution, were all proper exercises of self- 
 love. 
 
 We wonder if the Judge has ever reflected w^hether it is ex- 
 actly fair to ascribe all the good in society to a cei-tain religion, 
 and all the ill to something else. Surely for fifteen hundred 
 years we have had Christianity in power; and if this human 
 power still sins and quarrels, whose fault is it.-* No religion 
 breeds so many hypocrites as the Christian. Shall we tell our 
 friend why.? It is because Christianity claims to vmhumanize 
 us — that is to say, to turn us into angels. Striving in vain to be 
 the latter, but nevertheless ever professing to be it, turns Chris- 
 tians into walking contradictions to their doctrines. Aim high 
 is a good rule, but that higli must be possible. 
 
 A wise religiosity is good everywhere: it graces the Turk, 
 the Buddhist, and the Christian. But religious zealotism is bad 
 everywhere: it disgraces every one who harbors it. All relig- 
 ions contain sound ethics, all Churches teach wicked dogmas. 
 Let us tell Judge Longstreet that he wovild have been a good 
 man no matter where his religiosity had found its point of 
 adoration. 
 
 In conclusion we must be permitted to add that Mr. Long- 
 street's religiosity is in no danger at all. His religion ma}^ be, 
 but not from us especially, nor Ilenizen nor Agassiz. There is 
 now in every school-room, every lyccum, every college, every 
 university — jxa, in every newspaper— indeed, in our very pulpits, 
 something being promulgated w^hich you may scold as " infidel 
 science;" but which every hammer that falls, every wheel that 
 turns, every railroad, every telegraph, every chemical labora- 
 tory, every nursery, every shop, and every farm bears witness 
 to, and it is the superiority of exact knowledge over dogma. 
 Away is fleeting, in consequence hereof, the old arbitrary God 
 and arbitrary religion. In lieu of it we have ethics (religion) 
 tried by the light of the true legalities as deduced by logical 
 analysis. America is doing less in this than Europe. Why.-* 
 Because it is still most trammeled by obsolete religious ideali- 
 ties, and because its people will not carrj' out their good Fed- 
 eral law — viz., to let each other be free in their several States. 
 
 C. Reemelin. 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 143 
 
 Reply of Judge Longstreet. 
 
 To Mr. Charles Rccmelin: No Christian ever entertained a 
 higher respect for a deist than I do for jou. There is no better 
 chie to the character of a man than his writings when he writes 
 much and upon various subjects. Now jou have written much 
 and upon a greater variety of subjects, I judge, than any man of 
 jour age living who has never edited a newspaper; and upon all, 
 except one, you write admirably. But when you get upon that 
 one, allow me to say in language which cannot offend (for it is 
 your own) I do not know w hich to admire most, '•'•your vigor or 
 your softness^ It is the only subject upon which we differ, and 
 it is the only one in which you and I have an vmdying personal 
 interest. I learned from your pen that you were careful in form- 
 ing your opinions, and fearless but gentle in avowing them ; that 
 you were an honest, upright, iindependent, candid, highly culti- 
 vated man; that you were a lover of truth and an ardent seeker 
 of it wherever you wished to find it, and that you wished to find 
 it in all places but one; and that you did not wish to find it in 
 that place because you had heard from the lips of a thousand 
 witnesses that truth in that place was a different sort of thing en- 
 tirely from that picked up daily all over the fields of science. 
 There.^ truth assumes the offensive as a living entity, and scorches 
 the fingers of all mere self-reliant philosophers who touch it. I 
 see very plainly from your article before me that you have never 
 extended yovir research at all, much less your characteristic dil- 
 igence of research to that place. You have taken either upon 
 trust or upon cursory and unsystematic readings all you know 
 about it. 
 
 Now, sir, I have complimented you broadly ; but I have the 
 climax of compliment yet in reserve. I declare most sincerely 
 and solemnly, in the face of all men, that nothing would rejoice 
 me more than to hear, while I am writing this sentence, that 
 Charles Reemelin, of the city named after Cincinnatus, a foreign- 
 er and an infidel, had been proclaimed Dictator of the United 
 States for four years on his simple promise to administer the 
 government according to the Constitution as he understands it. 
 Now, sir, I understand as well how compliments should be man- 
 aged to make them palatable and inoffensive as anybody; but 
 these are compliments of an entirely new stamp. They are com- 
 pliments not of flatterj^ but of self-defense ; for in every piece 
 that I have written for The Ninetcenih Century., save one, and so 
 often in every piece, have I twitted j-ou upon your religion (for 
 you have a religion) that I deem it but sheer justice to j^ou and 
 myself to give you the most decisive proofs that this covert way 
 of tantalizing you was not chosen from any want of respect to 
 
144 JUDGE LONGSTREET.^ 
 
 you or secret malignity in me. There was even a compliment 
 in it, but one which nobody in the world could understand but 
 the author of it. I had long learned to admire you, before I 
 learned that you were an undisguised deist. Upon making this 
 discovery this train of rejections rose in my mind: "If there is 
 an honest, candid intidel upon earth, I think Charles Reemelin is 
 the man, whilst I claim to be equally candid and honest in my 
 belief of the truth of the Christian religion. He belongs to the 
 German school of inlidels — the worst and most hell-feeding tribe, 
 in my opinion, that God ever permitted to nibble upon and per- 
 vert his holy word. Infidels of the old school were content to at- 
 tack the leading and fundamental principles of the gospel, to 
 point out errors in Christ's teaching and misunderstandings of 
 him by his ministers; to impeach the vei-acity of the evangelists, 
 and bring contempt on his Church. But this new school gath- 
 ered to themselves the whole armory of science and com- 
 menced the sapping and mining process. They deliberately 
 and industriously set themselves to work to confound the 
 lauguagc of Scripture and to unsettle its foundations by mul- 
 titudinous scraps of profane history never brought to light 
 before. This done, and of course priests are Babelized., flocks 
 arc tantalized, and sinners tranquilized. The priests must now 
 quit their proper Avork and renew their Hebrew, Greek, and 
 Latin studies, and begin where they left off (at the sense) and 
 work carefully down to the jots and tittles. They must now 
 study history anew, not to learn the prominent events and actors 
 of the past, but the non-essentials of history. They undertake 
 the task, accomplish it with success, and expose the sappers. 
 But in the meantime the fire of religion that was in them has 
 gone out, their flocks languish, and their converts are fev/. They 
 are now more knowing preachers than ever they were, and more 
 w^orthless preachers than ever. They preach entirely above the 
 poor and ignorant for whose marked benefit the gospel A\as given 
 and to whose humble capacity its language was accommodated, 
 and preach theology, which in name is God''s rvord^ but in fad 
 j)!r//\'s quarrels over it — at best their defense of it, when it should 
 be setting men on the defense of themselves. Hence the relig- 
 ion of Germany (what there is of it) is in the main as old as an 
 icicle, as spiritless as a corpse, and as slow-moving as a snail. 
 Now I desire to engage an infidel of this new school in pub- 
 lic debate with a man who learns Scripture from Scripture, who 
 rejects at a dash all history which comes in conflict with evangel- 
 ical history as certainly false, who asserts in the face of the Ecu- 
 menical Council now sitting and of all the archbishops and bishops 
 of the world that he has a witness in himself that the gospel is 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 
 
 145 
 
 the word of God, and that if thej have it not they had better be 
 feeding 'upon the milk of the word,' than offering 'strong 
 meat ' to their flocks." 
 
 Well, I have found mj man, and now for the debate. '*It has 
 always," say you, "been marvelous to us that minds like those 
 of Stonewall Jackson, Bishop Polk, Jefferson Davis, and A. B. 
 Longstreet did not see that their most vinrelenting foes came 
 from the Northern Christian Churches." Whether they were the 
 most " unrelenting'''' of our foes may be questioned, but that they 
 were (with noble exceptions) the most man-astounding, God-of- 
 fending foes that we had I readily concede. But "give the devil 
 his due," They did not bring on the war; they did not desire 
 to do it. Their worst desire was that the slaves should rise up 
 piously and cut their owners' throats {z'ide " Uncle Tom," gun in 
 hand). Their madness had worked out its legitimate and final 
 results long before the dissolution of the Union. They had rent 
 the Churches in twain, and the two divisions had settled down 
 in quiet in their respective spheres of labor as early as 1S47. 
 The Northern Churches built the car of Juggernaut and pushed 
 it as far South as they could; but it never crushed a pig while it 
 was in their hands, and it never would have crushed a man 
 while it was in their keeping. But the Northern /<?////«>?;/.? took 
 it in hand, first the Whigs and then the Democrats; and now it 
 came thundering South, armed with fire-brands, Whigs and 
 Democrats rivals in their zeal to push it forward and equally 
 charmed with the music and the sight of the cracking bones and 
 spouting blood of the men with whom they were but yesterday 
 in the closest bonds of fellowship that ever bound man to his 
 fellow-man of different latitudes! None but slaves were spared, 
 and they were spared and they were encouraged by a usurped 
 authority to rise up xvickcdly and cut their masters' throats vmder 
 the protection of Federal bayonets. 
 
 Thus you see that the ruin which has come upon my section 
 of the country and the disgrace which has come upon yours 
 were the joint work of a Christ-taught band and a science- 
 taught band — my brethren and yours. Mine forsook the Con- 
 stitution of God which they had vowed to obey ; yours forsook 
 the Constitution of the country which they had sworn to obey. 
 Do the sins of mine prove that there is no Constitution of God, 
 or that it is faulty, any more than the sins of yours prove that 
 there is no Constitution of the country, or that it is faulty.? 
 God, as you read him, was very well pleased, or very indiffer- 
 ent to these innocent sports of his most favored people ; God, as 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 I read him, \vill mete out to every man of them the exact 
 measure of punishment due to his crime* You pz-oceed: 
 
 "The fact that tlie first split between the North and South oc- 
 curred in the several religious sects might have convinced any 
 discerning man that the subsequent political embroglio was an 
 inevitable sequence of the former. The only reason why we 
 had no open religious war was because our religious govern- 
 ments had no carnal weapons of their own. The Federal Gov- 
 ernment was made to carry on the war as an after-thought." 
 
 Suppose all this is admitted, what is the ergo of it.? (to speak 
 after the manner of your countrymen who have taught me to 
 talk of the " ego " and the " non-ego "). Do you feel that the war 
 which we have had was a blessing compared with what a Chinch 
 war would have been.? Everybody saw that the division of the 
 Churches would be followed by a division of the States, but no- 
 body saw that '•'•the last xvas an inevitable sequence of tlie first ?'' The 
 Northern Churches might have stormed and raged against the 
 Southern people till doomsday, and the people of the South 
 would never have felt the scratch of a pin or the loss #f a cent 
 had not the rulers at Washington anticipated the visions of bliss 
 with which your article concludes. After pai-ading before vis 
 the wonderful fruits of science, you say: "Away is fleeting, in 
 consequence thereof, the old arbitrarj^ God and arbitrary relig- 
 ion. In lieu of it we have ethics (religion) tried by the light of 
 the true legalities as deduced by logical analysis." How did 
 you come to overlook the fact that your paradise (pardon me, 
 your elysium) had already come to the Congress of the United 
 States and their elect at least. Congress had long before the 
 year 1861 put away God (I cannot speak of him as you do) and 
 his religion and become proselytes of ^^our Church. 
 
 Annually did they (the ruling body) go up to the temple ded- 
 icated to liberty, fraternity, truth, and jvistice; and after offering 
 up prayer to God through their chaplain for his blessing and 
 guidance in the service upon which they were entering, they 
 laid their hands upon the evangelists and swore to support and 
 defend the Constitution of their country, and before the oath had 
 time to be welcomed in hell thcj' proposed measures which they 
 admitted to be unconstitutional. When asked to explain them- 
 selves, their answer was in such perfect keeping with your relig- 
 ion that I give it fairly in your own language: "I swear to sup- 
 port the Constitution. True, I take the oath, because I could 
 not get in Congress without taking it. I violate it without any 
 
 *We used to have a smart sprinkle of Southern Universalists before 
 the war. I have not heard of one since 1861. They were smart preachers, 
 learned in the Scriptures, and adroit debaters. What has become of them? 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 147 
 
 scruples of conscience, because 'tried by the liglit of the trzie legali- 
 ties as deduced by logical analysts^ I regard it as of no force what- 
 ever when it comes in conflict with the true and higher legalities ^ 
 Since those days jour ethical divinity has been so universally 
 adopted by the rulers of the land that you may well be encour- 
 aged to hope that it will soon sweep this country at least. They 
 have virtually burned up the Constitution (the oath alone escap- 
 ing), and still they take it with true ethical devotion. What do 
 they now mean, friend Charles, when tried by the true legalities 
 as deduced by logical analysis.'' 
 
 "The founder of the Christian religion," say you, "spake, in 
 all innocence we admit, the fatal words which have made the 
 Christian religion a sword, instead of a pacificator, to all man- 
 kind. Christ said : ' Go ye into all the world, and preach the gos- 
 pel.' That order to his apostles, taken up by their successors, the 
 priests, has cost the people of Europe rivers of blood." 
 
 You quote but half the text, and that half inaccurately, but 
 obviously with no design to mislead. You give us enovigh of 
 it, and correctly enovigh, to place your argument from it fairly 
 before the public, and to enable me to offer a satisfactory refu- 
 tation of it; but to give my response its full force, it is neces- 
 sary that I give it entire: "Go ye into all the world, and preach 
 the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized 
 shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned." 
 (Mark xvi. 15, 16.) Matthew adds: "Teaching them to observe 
 all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am 
 with you alway, even unto the end of the world." 
 
 The way you introduce the text suggests to my mind one of 
 the most novel and curious questions that ever engaged the 
 thoughts of man. You admit that Christ spoke the %vords quoted^ 
 and that '■'•he spake them in all innocence T Now the question is: 
 What does innoccjice mean when predicated of words as spoken 
 by one raised from the dead .? Christ spoke these words after his 
 resurrection^ and my old failing head cannot divine by what 
 standard their guilt or innocence is to be measured. Pray en- 
 lighten me upon this svibject. Your words imply that Christ's 
 were innocent in the superlative degree. Is there a kind of in- 
 nocence between heaven and earth which is not known in 
 either.^ Christ spoke the words as a lawgiver. Can mere 
 commands savor of guilt or innocence in heaven or earth, or 
 between the two.^ But enough of this. 
 
 You admit that such a person as Jesus Christ did exist; that 
 he had followers obedient to his commands; that he command- 
 ed them to go forth and preach the gospel to every creature; 
 that they went; and you say this order of Christ, executed by 
 
148 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 them and taken up by their successors (the priests), has cost the 
 people of Europe rivers of blood. The ordey was to preach the 
 gospel. In the whole of it there is not one word calculated to 
 set men together by the ears, not one word calculated to stir 
 an angry passion, not one word of encouragement to vice in 
 any form, not an indecent word. Its teachings ran through all 
 the relations of the human family ; and wherever they went, 
 they blessed if followed. Wherever they go now, they bless if 
 followed. Men's relation to God is unfolded in accents of ten- 
 derness, encouragement, and love. It points out to them those 
 sins which touched none but himself, and which were without 
 the poor apology of even a temptation — profane swearing, tak- 
 ing his name in vain, ingratitvide, estranging themselves from 
 him, asking him for nothing, thanking him for nothing. As 
 between man and man^ generally, that gospel taught love, peace, 
 non-resistance, and forgi\eness of injuries; industry, kindness 
 to the poor and the distressed. To rulers, it taught justice and 
 righteousness; to subjects, submission and prayer for their rul- 
 ers. As between man and -ivife, it forbade divorces save for one 
 cause: enjoined upon them mutual love and constancy. It 
 threw a safeguard around this sacred relation and its loveliest 
 fruits by forbidding all men the indulgence even for a moment 
 of an adulterous thought or an adulterous look. To children it 
 taught love, obedience, and reverence to their parents; to mas- 
 ters, kindness, gentleness, and equity to their servants; to serv- 
 ants, obedience to their masters. It taught that man i.^ a sinner 
 by nature, and how he became such; but that so being, he Avas 
 wholly unfitted for that close and endless fellowship with his 
 Maker to which Christ had come to invite him and to prepare 
 him. The pi-ocess of preparation was such as never did and 
 never could enter into the head of any mere man. The means 
 seem to have no sort of connection with the result, the result no 
 natural connection with the means. It was to begin in sadness 
 and end in joy (poor encouragement to commence the process); 
 it was to renovate and revolutionize man's whole moral nature 
 in a twinkling without the labor of a day, the study of an hour, 
 or the expense of a dime on his part. Ilence men might hope 
 for the change to the latest hour of their lives. Repentance 
 and faith are the only conditions imposed upon them. But how 
 can they repent Mhen they love sin and believe it harmless.' 
 Christ saw this difficulty, and he infused into his gospel a power 
 to lead men to repentance. 
 
 Such is a meager epitome of Christ's gospel. He lived out 
 every precept of it to the letter. He Avas the embodiment and 
 the perfection of all that is lo\cly in the human character. In 
 
A TOUCH Of POLEMICS. 1 49 
 
 his gospel he inserted one precept ^vhich, if strictly obejcd, 
 would supersede all the laws of man for all the time of his ex- 
 istence : ''All tilings -whatsoever ye xvould that men should do unto 
 you, do ye even so to them:' And another which would super- 
 sede all the laws of God to man until they unite in heaven: 
 ''Love the Lord thy God xinth all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
 ivith all thy mind:' , , , • 
 
 Now, sir, is it impossible in the nature of thmgs that the sim- 
 ple preaching of this gospel could, by natural consequence, ever 
 draw one drop of blood from the veins of man while the world 
 stands. The first blood that it ever cost mankind was the blood 
 of its preacher. Gentle, harmless, artless creatures, they went 
 forth and delivered Christ's message of love to mankind, and 
 what was the consequence? They were chained and impris- 
 oned; they were whipped; they were stoned; they were made 
 to fight with wild beasts; they were burned to death; they were 
 driven from city to city, and tortured in every mode which in- 
 genuity could invent or cruelty execute. All this, not for a 
 year or a hundred years, but (with short intervals) for centu- 
 ries; all this from the votaries of ihat peaceful, liberal, independ- 
 ent pagan religion, which you openly regret was ever supplant- 
 ed by the arbitrary, vindictive, bloody Christian religion. But the 
 wonder of all wonders is that Christ foretold to these mission- 
 aries that they would meet with just such treatment as the re- 
 ward of their fidelity to him in this world; but he bid them 
 stand fast, endure all, resist none, abuse none, but to persist hi 
 doing his bidding, and he would reward them with endless life 
 and endless bliss in another world. 
 
 Now if Jesus Christ ordered these all-confiding servants to 
 go forth and preach his gospel, knowing that it would bring 
 upon them all these calamities, and not knowing that he had 
 the power, or rather knowing that he had not the power, to ful- 
 fill those promises to them, God save you, Mr. Reemelin! He 
 did not give "the order in cU innocence," nor in rt;/j innocence. 
 He had changed characters with his tempter, and become^ a 
 better representative of hell than of heaven. And if these mis- 
 sionaries went forth to preach the gospel with a foreknowledge 
 of the calamities which it was to bring upon them, and persist- 
 ed in preaching it in the agony of these calamities, with no bet- 
 ter assurance of his ability to fulfill his promises than that he 
 was a man of truth, then"^they were not merely unlettered, but 
 the most arrant fools that ever trod the face of this earth. But 
 they did preach, and in such manner as to lead thousands and 
 tens of thousands to believe. There was one learned man 
 amontr them who delivered a few words so opposite to our 
 
150 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 present positions that, were I ovei'-credulous, I might be led to 
 believe they were an inspiration intended foi" our special bene- 
 fit. Here they are: "Where is the disputer of this Avorld?" 
 (In Cincinnati.) " Ilath not C/od made foolish the ^\•isdom of 
 this world?" TL., yes; R., no.) 
 
 " P'or after that in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom 
 knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to 
 save them that believe.*' 
 
 Paul accounts, in part at least, for the success of the frcach- 
 h/o-y but does not account for the supply of preachers under 
 such discouragements. Now Say that tney saw' their Master 
 while in life heal every species of disease again and again by 
 his word; give sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to 
 the dumb, life to the dead, stilfness to the storm, and quiet to 
 the weaves in like manner; that they saw him walk on the wa- 
 ter, bring tribute-money from the mouth of a iish, feed four 
 thousand at one time and five thousand at another with a few 
 loaves and fishes; heard him say that he would suffer death, 
 and the third day rise again; saw him die, and conversed with 
 him alive on the third day- — say they saw and heard all these 
 things, or the half of them, or the quarter of them, and their 
 seeming madness is fully accounted for. But there is a mys- 
 tery connected with this matter, w^hich it is much harder to ex- 
 plain upon any principle of human nature. 
 
 The preachers who witnessed these things soon died or were 
 killed off, and their places were supplied by others nothing be- 
 hind them in zeal, steadfastness, and death-daring intrepidity, 
 who witnessed none of these things; and the line of succession 
 has been kept up to this day by <?/ Icasf two genuine Christians 
 to the Church in all the Nortliern Churches. There may be 
 vastly more. How is this to be accounted for? They first 
 learned Christ's words and character from their immediate 
 precursors, who avouched their testimony themselves by mira- 
 cles performed in Christ's name. Before these second of the 
 order disappeared, two of the first wrote out a full history of 
 Christ, which we have at this day. Now we find Christ saying 
 therein that he woidd build his Church upon a rock, and tbat 
 the gates of hell should not prevail against it. In our text kc 
 says: "And, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of Ihc 
 world." This accounts for the succession of his ministers, their 
 perseverance under all dangers, and their triumph over all 
 other religions. The dead but risen Christ was with them. 
 
 Now, friend Charles, I will frankly surrender to you if you 
 account for all these woitders upon purely rational or natural 
 principles to the satisfaction of any pure-minded man. Don't 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 151 
 
 disinter Grbbons's £ve fooleries (called reasons) for the rise, 
 rapid progress, spread, and final triumphs of Christianity. 
 Should thej occur to jou, read Faber's " Dithculties of In- 
 fidelity" (p. 120 and on), where you will find them demol- 
 ished "in a way exactly to your liking— viz., "by the light of the 
 true rationalities deduced by logical analysis." Faber is a con- 
 stant and mortal dealer in s'yllogism, and I advise you to study 
 his book carefully before it comes to my turn to attack your re- 
 lio-ion; for if you can answer him, you have nothing to fear 
 from me. Do not remind me of the number of religions which 
 have been and now are in the world in proof that religions are 
 easily got up, and their votaries easily persuaded that they all 
 come from God. As well might you point to the number of 
 meeting-houses and churches in the world in proof that it is an 
 easy matter to get up a St. Peter's and a St. Paul's (London). 
 By the way, think of these structures and their names in con- 
 nection wfth Peter on the cross and Paul under the lash. The 
 number of false religions implies that there is one true one. 
 But I have nothing to do with other religions. I say the Chris- 
 tian religion could not have been established by the means em- 
 ployed,^ lived through all opposition eighteen hundred years, 
 and become the religion of the world's luminaries if it had not 
 been ordained of God. And while upon this subject I will dis- 
 pose of another argument (allusion rather) of yours of kindred 
 character. You point to the hypocrites in the Church in proof 
 of the baseness of its religion. True, there are many, more and 
 worse, in this country at least, I believe, than there ever were 
 before. But they are not all hypocrites by many. And if you 
 wish to see our religion in it^s true beauty and loveliness, go 
 there among those who, amidst all the storms which have rent 
 the Churches and the State, have walked straight in the old 
 paths of Methodism which Asbury and McKendree trod through- 
 out the white man's region, and blazed out through the red 
 man's wild^ — undisturbed by his war-whoop, warmed by his 
 council-fires, and fed with his venison and his sofky. They 
 went with Jesus in their hearts and his Bible in their pockets; 
 they feared no harm, and they received none. Here you have 
 a clue to my choice of Churches. But to the point. You see 
 that I am no apologist for hypocrites, but permit me to say that 
 there never was one coined xn the Church since it was estab- 
 lished: they are all of the world's mint. In their native ele- 
 ment they are so exactly of the specific gravity of the murky 
 fiuid in which they float^ and so nearly homogeneous with it in 
 properties, that no eye ever sees him. But when they precipi- 
 tate themselves into the golden sea of the true Church, they are 
 
152 JUDGE LONGS TREET. 
 
 quite too light for their element, and thej soon float up to the 
 surface, where they attract the gaze of all men as very ugly 
 things very unfitly seated. Now, dropping the figure, I will 
 demonstrate to you that this is all true. Hypocrites do not re- 
 main long in the Church before they come out or are turned 
 out; and now if they be inen of talents, ineans, or family con- 
 nections, how are they received by their old friends and recent 
 revilers.'' Very charitably, if not very joyously. We hear of 
 no more of their hypocrisy, but we very often hear of their 
 being favorite and successful candidates for office. A hypocrite 
 is but a counterfeiter, and no man ever counterfeited base metal 
 or cheap morals. You see, then, that your judgment upon the 
 Church from hypocrites who join it is diametrically opposite to 
 what it should be. And here, while speaking of indirect com- 
 pliments to Christianity by men who abuse it, let me mention 
 one to which, though it covers a very broad surface, and I have 
 often been made the medium of it, I cannot give a name. Cer- 
 tainly I regard it as any thing but a compliment to me upon the 
 whole. I Avas as honest a man before I professed religion as I 
 was afterward; and so I supposed the Avorld in general and 
 Georgia in particular thought me, for up to this time I had only 
 to ask her for office to get it. Well, after I appeared before my 
 generous constituents in my new character, and they had put 
 me upon probation long enough to try my faith, here they came 
 with brand new tokens of their confidence. If large sums 
 of money were to be borne from place to place whence and 
 whither I was going, they were sure to be put in my hands, 
 greatly to my discomfort. If wives and daughters were to be 
 put in charge of any one for long routes, I was sure to be first 
 choice if I could be. This, always a pleasurable service (taking 
 care of baggage always excepted) sometimes, I presume often, 
 brought me into very flattering comparison with very honest, 
 upright neighbors oi the world. As I cannot recall the in- 
 stances, I must guess at the manner, which I am sure is true in 
 substance if not to the letter: 
 
 " Pa, I've just heard that if ma and I will postpone our trip 
 
 to four days, we can go in charge of Judge Longstreet 
 
 through the whole route." 
 
 " Why, is the Judge going.? I am rejoiced to hear it. I felt 
 a little uneasy at putting you in charge of friend Smith, for he 
 sometimes — that is if you should happen to be taken sick by the 
 way, you would greatly incommode Mr. Smith, who goes' in a 
 hurry. I much prefer the Judge; but it will not look so well, 
 after Smith has kindly engaged to take charge of you, to tell him 
 that you prefer to wait four days to go with Judge Longstreet." 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMIC. 
 
 153 
 
 "Ah well, husband, jou need feel no scruples on that score, 
 for I told Sarah yesterday that we would have to work with all 
 our might to get ready by day after to-morrow." 
 
 "Why, Mary, you have been in a greater sxvivct to get off 
 than Mr. Smith has." 
 
 "Well, yes, I have; because I saw that if we lost this, oppor- 
 tvmity we would not have another till Mr. Jones goes the last 
 of next week, and I'd a thousand times rather go with Mr. 
 Smith than Mr. Jones. So you may tell Mr. Smith with truth 
 that we won't be ready to go the day after the morrow, though 
 we have worked hard to get ready" 
 
 Now this is a picture drawn from real life — from almost 
 every-day life — and yon have seen it played out in substance or 
 in kind one hundred times, perhaps, in the course of your life; 
 and it shows, and in the only way in which it could be im- 
 pressively shown, or I would not have adopted it, how men, 
 women, and children are constantly complimenting Christian- 
 ity when none of them dreamed of it. I could multiply in- 
 stances of this kind from my own observation to an intolerable 
 length in trades and money dealings, in petty trusts, in the 
 most sacred trusts of earth — the unbosoming of husbands and 
 wives to me as their mutual friend and confidant in their pain- 
 ful differences between each other. So of parents and chil- 
 dren. But I stop, for it just occurs to me that this may be taken 
 for self-compliment. The idea will vanish when I declare that 
 none of these things did I ever know till I joined the Church. 
 They are what we call in law ncffah'vcs f regnant^ which are 
 quite as strong as proofs positive; and their universal preva- 
 lance among mankind shows conclusively that it is not because 
 religion is unlovely in the sight of sinners that they do not em- 
 brace it, but because the liberty of sinning is more lovely. 
 
 You complain of the Christian religion as encroaching upon 
 your liberty of speech and conscience. This amazes me. You 
 are a foreigner; I am a native. Since the war you and negroes 
 have had the most unbounded liberty of speech and conscience. 
 Until lately, I have had neither. The intruder upon ^our lib- 
 erty has been exceedingly mild and gentle; the intruder upon 
 mine has been the embodiment of a hundred Hay nans without 
 his humanity. Here again you unwittingly bestow a high com- 
 pliment upon religion. Your complaint shows that it annoys 
 you, and my answer to it shows that it controls you. Now yovir 
 true meaning is not that Christianit}^ disturbs 3'ou, but the real 
 and pretended professors disturb you. How have they acquired 
 this power? Numericalh', they are but about as one to ten of the 
 irreligiovxs of the land. Now, " by the lisrht of the true ration- 
 
154 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 alitics deduced by logical analysis," the}' should have been put 
 down, and their principles crushed out or shut up in their own 
 bosoms long ago. But the miraculous fact is that they have 
 somehow so wrought upon the moral sense of the great masses 
 of the people as to render Christianity more popular than infi- 
 delity — popular^ I mean, in the common sense of the term. Now 
 majorities are never just, never tolerant, never even courteous L) 
 luiuoritics. This majority (rather some of them and the most of 
 them) treat inlidels with insult and contempt, and this is the 
 treatment of w hich you complain and justly complain. But it Vi 
 not the sin of Christianity or true Christians; for, though it is ad- 
 mitted that these last are the most dogmatical denouncers of in- 
 fidelitv in the world, their denunciation would be pointless and 
 ridiculous if yovir people did not follow their example without 
 their apology for it. 1 have an apology for them, but withhold 
 it because 1 can argue the question more to my satisfaction, at 
 least, with the measure of their iniquity in your hands than 
 mine. Thus you see that the sin of your persecution lies heavier 
 at the door of your people than mine. 
 
 The great fault of the Christian religion, in yowx estimation, 
 and that which has been the source of all the miseries which it 
 has brought upon the world, is that it claims to be the only true 
 religion, and that it will allow manliind to have no other. Well, 
 that is precisely the charac::cr of our religion, and it has always 
 been enforced exactly as you are enforcing yours now, except 
 that persuasion and entreaty (often with tears) are implements 
 of its warfare, but never of yours. Why, man, are you not only 
 morally blind, so that you cannot sec the truth as it is in Christ, 
 but physically blind, so that you cannot e\en see your adver- 
 sary? Here we stand before the world in contrast: you the 
 champion of your religion, I the champion of mine; you con- 
 tending that yours is true, I contending that mine is true; you 
 supporting yours by calm and temperate argument, I doing the 
 same. They have not one common principle. Now what ad- 
 vantage have I over yovi or you over me in position on the field 
 or in kind of armory.'' When you say that your religion is true, 
 do you not virtually assert that all others arc false.'' Can there 
 be two religions whollv unlike and both true.'' 'I'he encroach- 
 ments which I am now making upon your religion are exactly 
 such as you are making on mine. In the name of God and of 
 reason and of common sense, then, what do you mean when 
 you complain of me and my people because we assert that there 
 is but one true religion, and that we have it; and of our intol- 
 erance, when it is exactly your own.^ And yet you do this very 
 thing plainly and unmistakably! Now, sir, I will be kinder to 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 155 
 
 you than 3'ovi are to yourself; I will save your understanding 
 from the ravages of your words. You do not mean to be vui- 
 dcrstood as contending that two religions diiTering in principles 
 can both be true, but that the votaries of the true one should be 
 perfectly inert and passive amidst a hundred false ones. If a 
 true religion be worth nothing, you are right; but if it be of 
 value and great value, then you could not have broached a 
 more preposterous opinion if you had searched a year for it. It 
 is at war with the very nature and duty of man, if any duty be 
 vipon him. It is at war with the practices of all men from the 
 creation to this day, not excepting yourself. Had it been adopt- 
 ed and practiced by the races who have gone before us, we 
 would be now in African darkness. If adopted now and prac- 
 ticed in future, it would put a dead-lock upon the wheels of sci- 
 ence, and arrest all advancements in agriculture, commerce, in- 
 ternal improvements, government, or morals. Let every man 
 who discovers a good thing for soul or body keep it to himself, 
 and not go to disturbing his neighbors with it to stir up strife 
 and bloodshed among them I There's your principle, kind sir, 
 in a nutshell. Do you recommend it to your Democratic 
 brethren? Do you say to them: "Your views of the Constitu- 
 tion and principles of our government are right, and would be 
 a great blessing to the country just at this time if they could 
 predominate. Those of the Radicals are wrong, of course, if 
 yours be right, but don't interest yourselves in the matter; be 
 quiet, enjoy your principles, and let them enjoy theirs. You 
 will fmd your consciousness of political rectitude, as I find mine 
 of religious rectitude, a fountain of perennial joy and refresh- 
 ing springing up in your hearts, which will amply compensate 
 you for any loss by your 'masterly inactivity.' But if they ob- 
 trude themselves upon your domain, then let them have it in 
 full. Tell them how they forsook the principles of their noble 
 leader, Webster, and attached themselves to the skirts of a band 
 of wild, self-maddened religious fanatics, caught the flaine of their 
 madness, and overspread the country with blood and carnage — 
 in short, recount all their past and daily sins — and then I reckon 
 they'll attend to their own politics and let yours alone." This 
 is the way you ought to talk to these brethren ; and if you do 
 not, your practice condemns yovu" principles. The truth is, no 
 party, sect, or association could ever be formed at all upon your 
 principles. Bricks are just as likely to jump together and build 
 a house as men are to come together in a common bond of un- 
 ion while every man keeps his opinions to himself. But, sir, we 
 dare not be passive. And this brings me to perhaps the strong- 
 est argument in favor of the divine origin, and of course the 
 
156 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Irulh of the Christian rcli;j;ion in the Christian's Avhole arnion'. 
 It is that perfectly original feature of it a\ ith \vhich it Mas horn, 
 and Avhich it has ever retained— viz., that it Avill make no com- 
 promises \vith any other religion of the world. We have seen 
 it in its infancy, we ha\e seen it in its humility, we have seen it 
 in its agonies, we have seen it invits garments of blood, we have 
 seen it in its coat of fire; but Ave have not yet seen it in its mi- 
 raculous daring, its astounding intrepidity, and its superhuman 
 triumphs. Just think of the twelve illiterates, their Master (a 
 Jew) just crucified by sentence of a Roman governor, under 
 impeachment of the Jewish Sanhedrim, thej^ themselves sub- 
 ject to the civil authority of the judge and the religious author- 
 ity of the prosecutor; think of these atomic humanities going 
 forth, and in a body first attacking their own rulers on whose 
 skirts the blood of their victim was hardly dry, charging them 
 to their faces with murdering their own Messiah, but promising 
 them forgiveness in his name if they would repent and believe 
 in him! 
 
 You do not admit that Christ performed any miracles while 
 he was upon the earth. I will take it as a great favor if you wil] 
 tell me whether he said or did any thing while he was upon the 
 earth, and what. I would like to know also what you think that 
 bloody gospel was which he ordered his disciples to go forth and 
 preach. You do not believe that he performed miracles ; but you 
 admit the iniraculous when you believe that four of the most art- 
 less, candid, impartial, truthful. God-fearing historians that ever 
 put pen to paper, without any concert of action or hope of gain, 
 all of them contemporaries, and two of them eye-witnesses of 
 what they narrate, all deliberately seated themselves and wrote 
 out the history of the same person. This you admit. They all 
 concur in ascribing to him a moral character as pure and as spotless 
 as that of God himself. This you neither admit nor deny, as you 
 have only their say so for it. They give you the code of morals 
 which he delivered to his disciples to be preached to the world. 
 This you have already admitted. This code we have before us, 
 and this is Christ's gospel. It forbids lying under penalties awful 
 to those who l)elieve that he has power to enforce them. They 
 say that he laid claim to divine power and avouched his claim 
 by miracles many and stupendous. This you do not believe. 
 When they wrote their histories, the}-^ were all preachers of Christ's 
 gospel. If Christ did not perform the miracles ascribed to him, 
 they knew it of course; but they have put them on record, for it 
 is before us; the disciples, therefore, must have forged them all. 
 Between thirty and forty of these pretended miracles are reported 
 in specific detail of persons, their ollices, their names, of places 
 
A TO UC// OI^ POLEMICS. 157 
 
 and circumstances; and hundreds are brought to notice by a sin- 
 gle collective term — such as, '■'■and he healed great mtdtitudes by 
 his word; " Christ's feeding thousands upon two occasions with a 
 few loaves and fishes, I have put in the former class and counted 
 them as they are always counted, as but two miracles. They 
 ought to be counted as nine thousand at least, for with every in- 
 crement of the elements he performed a new act of creation — a 
 thing as difficult of performance as the creation of nine thousand 
 worlds. If these are historic facts, and not forgeries, no man who 
 believes them can doubt for a momentthe truth with which John 
 opens his gospel. It settles the signification of the word '•'■Logos^'' 
 about which there has been so much dispute, by a case in point. 
 This was the creation of dead matter. So was his creation of the 
 coin. His putting it into the mouth of the fish and directing it 
 to the precise point to which Peter's hook would fall, and at the 
 very instant of its fall, were all distinct miracles which show that 
 he controlled the people of the sea as well as the people of earth, 
 and exercised power upon both at the same time. When he 
 breathed the breath of life into the nostrils of Lazarus and the 
 widow's son of Nain, he created two men. When he walked on 
 the water, he suspended the laws of nature. When he hushed 
 the winds and the waves, he showed that his will was law to those 
 elements. 
 
 Now I have not been parading before you and characterizing 
 these miracles, or pretended miracles, to convince you that Christ 
 performed them, but as a lemma upon which I will presently 
 build an argument which will rub closely upon a demonstration 
 that if he did not perform them his disciples ivere all miracles^ and 
 thatjKc»« are as great a miracle as any of them. 
 
 We have said that if Christ did not perform the miracles at- 
 tributed to him his disciples forged them— nobody else could have 
 done it. 
 
 The disciples were all ignorant, artless men. They com- 
 menced preaching soon after Christ's death in Jerusalem, where 
 they were ordered to remain for some time and preach to the Jews 
 only. They were all very sad at the departure of their Lord and 
 Master; but while awaiting orders the thought strvick some one 
 of them (at a prayer-meeting most likely) that as they were soon 
 going out to preach the gospel of Christ, and to assert that the 
 author of it was the Son of God, and equal with God, or rather 
 God himself manifest in the flesh, they foresaw that they could 
 make but little headway in their ministry unless they could con- 
 vince the world that he did many superhuman works while he 
 sojourned on earth. So they drew up the imaginary miracles as 
 we find them. But there was a brother to be added to them to 
 
1^8 yUDCrE LONGSTREET. 
 
 supply the place of Judas. So as soon as he Avas chosen thcj 
 Mcntto him and told all that they had done, and the reason of it, 
 and presented him a copy of all the miracles they had agreed to 
 preach. He received it very graciously and commenced com- 
 mitting them to memory as hard as he could, for the time for his 
 preaching was at hand.' It soon came on, and [imder our suppo- 
 sition, pray keep in mind) the&e artless but dauntless champions of 
 the Cross went out upon their mission of love and lying. How 
 must their lirst sermons have run when they undertook to 
 strengthen the gospel by an appeal to Christ's miracles.? Some- 
 how thus: " I tell you people of Jerusalem that Christ was 'the 
 Power of God, and the Wisdom of God.' That he was the Wis- 
 dom of God you learn from his gospel ; that he was the Power 
 of God all Jerusalem can testify from the 'number of miracles' 
 which he wrovight in this city; which when these brethren 'saw 
 they believe.' But some of Vou say you didn't see them and 
 can't believe. Well, PU give you one that you can't disbelieve. 
 You all know that Lazarus, of our neighboring village, Bethany, 
 died. You can't dispute that, for ' many ' of you went out to 
 sympathize and condole with his bereaved sisters. You wrapped 
 him in his grave-clothes and buried him. You continued your 
 tender assiduities to the sisters four days, when a message came 
 to Martha which she did not stop to communicate to anybody, 
 but hastened away. Soon after another came to Mary who did 
 the like, you supposing that she was going to the grave to weep 
 folloNved her. She conducted you to Jesus, you saw her pros- 
 trate herself at his feet and heard her exclaim: ' Lord, hadstthou 
 been here, our brother had not died!' You mingled your tears 
 with hers, and for the first and only time in his life, save pne, 
 ' Jesus we^t.' You conducted him to the place of the brother's 
 interment. Some of you removed the stone from the mouth of 
 his grave. You heard the command of Christ to him to come 
 forth, you saw him rise in the habiliments of the grave, you di- 
 vested'him of them and saw him go home with his rejoicing 
 sisters. And then what.? Many of you believed on him — and 
 not all! O no. Some of you did as you always do, you posted 
 off to the devil's physicians for Christ's wounds, the Pharisees, 
 and told them what Jesus had done. So you did when Christ 
 gave sight to a man born blind. The actors in these scenes are 
 yet alive; for it is not two years since they occurred. Lazarus 
 comes to town every day or two, and you all stare at him, curious 
 to learn whether a man raised from the dead is as he was before 
 he died." 
 
 All this, anc\no one man saying to another: " Why, did you 
 ever hear of such a pack of barefaced lies siilce you were born ? " 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 1 59 
 
 No one even saying to another: " Did you ever hear of any of 
 these things? " But this preaching in Jerusalem was modest and 
 diffident compared with what it must have been when a disciple 
 went to Capernaum to deliver himself. He reminded the inhab- 
 itants of course of what Christ had recently said about their city, 
 spoke of his divine power, and called upon nine thousand men, 
 besides women and children, in and about Capernaum to testify 
 to it from what they had seen and handled and tasted at the feasts 
 of the loaves and fishes. 
 
 Well, thus they went on preaching for twenty or more years, 
 until, having perfectly amalgamated their lies with Christ's 
 truths, one of his disciples writes out a history of his Master. 
 Soon after a follower, but not a disciple, writes out another; then 
 another of like kind does the like. And lastly, another disciple 
 does the same. These historians all agree in giving the same 
 character to Christ, but each one adds one or more miracles to 
 the list given by his predecessor. These books are collected to- 
 gether, received by thousands and tens of thousands as the ver- 
 itable word of God, are preserved as men preserve diamonds, 
 and passed down from hand to hand, and pen to pen, to this day ; 
 and you are now complaining that these forging, lying rascals 
 got UD a religion eighteen hundred years ago that won't let you 
 alone^ 
 
 Now, sir, if the miracles recorded in the gospel were never 
 wrought by Christ or anybody else, if they were all forgeries of 
 the disciples and palmed off upon the credulity of mankind, in 
 the way we have seen they must have been, then every disciple 
 was himself as far out of the order of nature as a hot icicle would 
 be, and therefore an indisputable miracle. God never made the 
 man who could exactly fill the measure of a disciple according 
 to your grading. But you believe he made twelve such. You do 
 not believe that Christ possessed superhuman powers, but you be- 
 lieve that his servants did. You do not admit that he ever per- 
 formed one miracle, but you admit that without check or reproof 
 he allowed his disciples to assert everywhere that he wrought 
 a hundred; for, grant that he sent them out to preach after he 
 rose from the dead, and you must suppose that he lived long 
 enough to see whether they were getting along to his liking. 
 
 Thus believing and disbelieving, you are a compound of 
 credulity and inci-edulity which throws you quite out of the or- 
 der of riatvn-e and makes you a miracle, 
 
 A few words upon miracles, and " cause and effect^'' before we 
 close. 
 
 Every one knows perfectly well what a miracle is and what is 
 meant by " cause and cfcct^' until he sees them in the hands of 
 
l6o JUDdE LONGSTREET. 
 
 the theologian, the philosopher, and the metaphysician ; and then 
 he discovers that he never knew any thing, or but very little, 
 about them. What I have to say of them will commend itself 
 to all readers for brevity, simplicity, clearness, and easiness of 
 apprehension at least. 
 
 A 7niraclc presupposes the existence of mind and its capability 
 of acting on mind and matter. The power of the human mind 
 extends no farther than to operate cJmnges in matter and mind. 
 It can create nothing, it can annihilate nothing. When it acts 
 upon and produces a change in matter, the change is evident to 
 the senses; and seeing it, we can no more doubt of its reality 
 than we can of our own existence. This conviction arises from an 
 inborn property of our moral constitution. Reason has nothing 
 to do with it. It springs up and takes its appointed scat before 
 tardy-footed reason has time to take her first step. It takes its 
 seat not for an instant, a month, or a year, but for eternity if the 
 perceiving mind endures so long itself inic/um<fcd. While that 
 mind remains exactly as it was when it perceived the change, 
 we can no more doubt it as a reality than we could at first. If 
 time, /^/' se, could affect it, we would begin to doubt the instant 
 after we realized. But mind cannot act directly upon either mind 
 or matter. It performs all its operations through the body. 
 The observer's eye not only sees the change after it is made, but 
 it sees the body in the act o'f making it: first notices the jiian and 
 puts him in its treasury of ideas; then notices the ///z;/^ and dis- 
 poses of it in the same way ; then he marks each and every new 
 development and deals with them in like manner, so that when 
 the change is effected all that he could know about it is so spe- 
 cifically treasured up and so methodically arranged in his mind 
 that he could immediately go to work and produce the same 
 change in exactly the same way. In the meantime, while the 
 mind of the observer Avas gathering its knowledge in this way, 
 the mind of the operator had conceived the change as clearly 
 before as after it was perfected, and would have produced it by 
 a word if he could; but it had to wait the tardy movement of its 
 agent, and thereby it was compelled to communicate its knowl- 
 edge to the observer which otherwise it never would have done. 
 Now the latter knows nothing of what started the man to make 
 the change, but he knows that he himself is a man, that his mind 
 has grasped the Avhole process, and that he can repeat it if he 
 will. Suppose he resolves to repeat it, how does he go to work.? 
 His mind sets his body to work, and it proceeds step by step after 
 the manner of his exemplar. He now knows that his exemplar's 
 l^ody was set to work just as his was — by a mind that dwelt in it — 
 antl all the powers of earth could not convince him to the con- 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. l6l 
 
 trarj How has he reached this immovable conviction? Bj 
 reasoning from effect to cause^ as all the miners in mind would 
 have us believe? Not a whit of it! He never thought of cause 
 and effect, he never reasoned at all upon what he had seen. He 
 had made all that matter his own, and it was in the use of it that 
 he learned by instinct that his teacher had a mind. Well, are 
 there no such things as cause and effect} No, cause and effect are 
 ivonis^ not things. But there are such things as these words were 
 properlj enough applied to at first, and then most abominably 
 abused. Events are often so linked together that we know the 
 one could not possibly exist without the other. To the first in 
 order of time we give the name oicause, and to the last the name 
 of effect. Well, there is no objection to this — it is desirable that 
 we should have them for the facilities which they afford us in 
 conversing about these connections. But with some they have 
 got to be things^ and with others nothings. Locke says: '•''Cause 
 is a substance exerting its power into act to make one thing begin 
 to be." {SplejtdidI) 
 
 Hume tells us that '■^ cause and effccf'' mean no more than in- 
 variable antecedents and consequents; that when one event or 
 or thing invariably precedes another, we call the first a f«!.Y5^ and 
 the last an effect. Bottles of ink have been shed in opposition to 
 this view and in defense of it. 
 
 A word, it would seem, should have settled it as soon as it was 
 raised. Day invariably precedes night; is day the cause of 
 night? Certainly, Mr. Hume being in the chair. But night in- 
 variably precedes day; is night the cause of day? Most assur- 
 edly! How can it be otherwise? But w;hat was all the dispute 
 about? About two words which one party understood to mean 
 something and the other to mean nothing (and which the um- 
 pire between them understands to mean something like some- 
 thing, and something like nothing, but not exactly either). 
 
 If possible, let ustalk of the things without the names. The 
 world is made up of matter and mind. We know that matter 
 cannot change its form or its place of itself; and we know the 
 only agencies by which these changes can be produced — animal 
 power, time, and the turbulent and silent elements of nature,work- 
 ing upon each other. The changes wrought by all other agencies 
 put together are to those wrought by man as one to a billion; and 
 numerous as they are, they are distinguishable at a glance from 
 those produced by the other agencies — they all bear the impress 
 of design upon them. The works of thebeaver would constitute 
 a solitary exception, if he did not always put his ingenious fabric 
 in the water and always build it in the same way. Very many 
 of the changes wrought by man we not only know to be his by 
 
 11 
 
1 62 JUDGE LONGSTREEr. 
 
 siglit, but Avc know why, how, and for what they were made. 
 I sec the perfect form of a man in marble. Do 1 go throvigh a 
 process of reasoning from effect to cause to convince me that it 
 is the work of man? No; I am convinced as soon as my eje 
 lights upon it. Instinct jumps me to the maker ; and here I may 
 and if I am a wise man will begin to reason thus: That lifeless 
 form of a man was wrought out by an intelligent being; but 
 who wrought out the original of it, with all his intelligence, per- 
 fection of organs, activity of body and mind.'' How do I reason 
 now.? From the sculptor to his Alaker.? No; but from myself 
 to my Maker. I find a thousand millions on earth like me; all 
 put up with inimitable skill and wonderful capabilities, not one 
 of v/hom ever made a man. But His wisdom, skill, and design 
 show themselves in man's organization. These are but attri- 
 butes; I possess them in a small degree myself: I cannot con- 
 ceive of attributes without something to which they belong. I 
 cannot conceive of attributes like these without some person like 
 myself to whom they belong. And here my unassisted reason 
 leads me right into the heart of that charming religion which 
 Varus was so kind as to give to yowv countrymen before the 
 coming of Christ and Boniface Avas so cruel as to takeaway from 
 them afterward. But do Boniface justice. Your countrymen, 
 under the head of Arminius, threw off the government of Va- 
 rus entirely, and restored to them their own primitive religion. 
 Whereupon Varus, according to the Roman religion, killed him- 
 self; and Arminius, according to the primitive religion, im- 
 proved his victory hy allowing your countrymen to cut off the 
 hands of the lawyers, whose subtleties were most odious to them, 
 and to put out the eyes of others. 
 
 The Bible teaches me that God is not flesh and blood as I am, 
 but pure mind, or spirit. Enough! I cannot understand how 
 my mind thinks and wills and designs, but knowing that it does 
 I readily admit that the revelation is true, and perceive at once 
 that the difference between me and my Creator is this: My mind 
 is a creation. How His came to be I know not. (" Self-created " 
 are two more silly words). When it began to be is a silly thought. 
 My mind can act upon nothing directly but the body that con- 
 tains it; God's mind acts upon every thing directly. My mind 
 can create nothing, it can destroy nothing; his can create and 
 destroy everything. I live by his permission, I die at his com- 
 mand. When I form new combinations of matter into some- 
 thing useful, I am said to create it and act wicely. When I em- 
 ploy myself in useless creations, God has so constituted the 
 minds of all men that they judge me a fool. Here I stop the 
 parallel and the antitheses. 
 
A TOUCH OF POLEMICS. 163 
 
 If God made man for any purpose, and he would have man 
 to know it, I know of no shorter or simpler way than that by 
 which he has taught us to make known our purposes to each 
 other. If he requires any duties of us, I think he should tell us 
 what they are, and as he is not to be seen of men and long con- 
 versations with us in his spiritual character would confuse us 
 very much, I think the better way would be to make known his 
 wishes through some man, and as that man would not certainly 
 be known to speak God's words without indubitable proof of his 
 authority, I think it would be a good plan to endow him with 
 the power of working miracles, and a goodly number of them, 
 in proof of it. But miracles would be of no use to any but those 
 who witness them if man were not by nature formed to trust the 
 word of his fellow-man as implicitly as his own senses. And so 
 God made him as we find him fresh from the hands of his Crea- 
 tor, for little children never doubt what they are told. Distrust 
 came from lying and deception of the senses; lying., from known 
 motives. Remove the causes of distrust, and my nature compels 
 me to believe what I am told. When, therefore, Hume says he 
 would sooner believe that the evangelist lied than that the 
 order of nature was changed, he says : "I will change the order of 
 (my) nature sooner than believe the order of nature was 
 changed. A. B. Longstreet. 
 
JUDGE LONGSTREET'S WRITINGS. 
 
 JUDGE LoNGSTREET wrote ** Letters from Geor- 
 gia to Massachusetts," " Letters to Clergymen 
 of the Northern Methodist Church," ''A Review 
 of the Decision of the Supreme Court in the Case 
 of McCulloch vs. the State of Maryland," " Geor- 
 gia Scenes," "Master WilHam Mitten; or The 
 Youth of Brilliant Talents Who Was Ruined by Bad 
 Luck," besides pamphlets, magazine and news- 
 paper articles on current topics. 
 
 The most widely known and popular of all his 
 writings was the *' Georgia Scenes. This book has 
 been characterized elsewhere in this volume. It 
 will be interesting to the reader to quote Judge 
 Longstreet's own word's concerning it: " The de- 
 sign of the ' Georgia Scenes ' has been wholly mis- 
 apprehended by the public. It has been invaria- 
 bly received as a mere collection of fancy sketches, 
 with no higher object than the entertainment of the 
 reader, whereas the aim of the author was to sup- 
 ply a chasm in history which has always been over- 
 looked — the manners, customs, amusements, wit, 
 dialect, as they appear in all grades of society to 
 an ear and eye witness of them. But who ever 
 tells us of the comments of the wits and the ways 
 of the common walks of life, in their own dialect, 
 upon the victors and the vanquished in the public 
 games? Could we hear them, we would find a rich 
 (164) 
 
JUDGE LONGSTREET'S WRITINGS. 165 
 
 fund of amusement in their remarks upon the 
 dresses of their characters, the horses, their rhode 
 of driving, and their blunders ; upon the pugilistic 
 combatants, their appearance, their muscle, their 
 remarks, and gruntings and groanings as the favor- 
 ite champion seemed to gain or lose the chance for 
 victory; their own private games, quarrels, and 
 fights, and the manner in which they are conduct- 
 ed. In short, what history do we find that covers 
 completely all grades and ranks of society at any 
 one period of time? I have chosen the first fifty 
 years of our republic in the course of which short 
 space of time the society of the Southern States 
 underwent almost an entire revolution, and at this 
 date hardly a trace of the society of the first thirty 
 years of the republic is to be found. To be sure, 
 in writing the ' Georgia Scenes ' I have not con- 
 fined myself to strictly veracious historic detail; 
 but there is scarcely one word from the beginning 
 to the end of the book that is not strictly Georgian. 
 The scenes which I describe — as, for instance, 
 ' The Gander Pulling ' — actually occurred at the 
 very place where I locate it. The names of the 
 persons who figure in it are such as were well- 
 known in Richmond County at that time, and the 
 language which I put in the mouths of my actors 
 was just such as was common at such exhibitions. 
 The horses that were engaged differed in action 
 and character as horses generally do; but to give 
 the whole an interest which it would not otherwise^ 
 have, I make one of the horses (of a disposition 
 not very uncommon among horses) break from the 
 ring and make for Augusta, pass tobacco rollers,* 
 
1 66 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 which were common at that time, receive their 
 greetings as the rider of such a horse would be 
 certain to secure from such characters — and so on 
 to the close of his course. This last part is fanciful, 
 and thrown in to give interest to a scene that would 
 be very insipid in simple historical detail to persons 
 unacquainted with that amusement. Again, take 
 'The Wax Works.' The exhibition actually 
 came off in Waynesboro, Burke County, Ga. Ev- 
 ery character introduced actually existed, given 
 under changed names to be sure, but performing 
 precisely the part ascribed to him. Once more, 
 take ' The Fight.' This is a description of a com- 
 bat which was not uncommon in almost every 
 county in Georgia, at almost every one of which 
 there was a Ransy Sniffle, a little more ludicrous 
 in form and figure, and made rather more con- 
 spicuous in this fight than the real Ransys were. 
 In person, however, he answered very well to 
 many of the poorer class whom all Georgians have 
 seen in the sterile pine woods of that State. These 
 may serve as examples of how far the sketches 
 were actually true and how far fanciful." 
 
 The genesis of another of his books Judge 
 Longstreet also tells us in his own words: *' ' Mas- 
 ter Mitten ' was brought out in this wise : While I 
 was President of Centenary College, in Louisiana, 
 two young men established a press in the village, 
 and they earnestly requested me to write for it. 
 There were several indulgent widowed mothers in 
 Jackson who had sons at the grammar-school or 
 at college, over whom they exercised no control; 
 and who, like all youths permitted to do as they 
 
JUDGE LONGSTREET'S WRITINGS. 167 
 
 pleased, gave more of their time to mischief than 
 to study. I therefore commenced the work with a 
 design of teaching mothers the danger of allowing 
 their affections for their children to interfere with 
 their duty in exercising that parental discipline 
 which is indispensable to the training of youth in 
 industry, study, and moral conduct; and to set 
 before youths of talents the evils of indolence and 
 the rewards of industry and study in a manner 
 which I thought most likely to stimulate them to a 
 laudable ambition for literary distinction. I laid 
 the scene in Georgia, that it might not be under- 
 stood as a rebuke to the kind mothers of Jackson. 
 I had only progressed as far as the fifth or sixth 
 chapter when I left Jackson, and supposed that 
 there was the last of * Master Mitten.' When the 
 Field and Fu'eside was established in Augusta, I 
 was requested to become one of its contributors, 
 and I resumed and finished the story of * Master 
 Mitten ' for that periodical, very much doubting 
 whether the intelligent editors would admit it into 
 their columns. They did so, however, and by 
 those who saw the aim of it it was well received ; 
 but by a large majority of readers, who expected 
 at the opening of it a rehash of the ' Georgia 
 Scenes,' it was considered a dead failure." 
 
 Many of Judge Longstreet's graver essays were 
 upon subjects which have now entirely lost their 
 interest, and which neither he nor his friends took 
 any pains to preserve. His newspaper articles 
 were mostly on transient topics, and, though 
 bright and strong and read with avidity when they 
 first appeared, have sunk into the sea of literary 
 
1 68 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 forgetfulness. The fragments of his writing on 
 rehgious questions that remain show a fondness 
 and a genius for exegetics, with an independence 
 and originaHty of thought that give assurance that 
 he could have done more work on that line that 
 would have deserved to survive him. 
 
 It is not certain, however, that, had Judge Long- 
 street carried out his intention to write a series of 
 ** Georgia Scenes" from a strictly religious point 
 of view, he would have succeeded. His special 
 vein was humor. But true humor and true pathos 
 are seldom disjoined, and there are in this memoir 
 pathetic touches that justify the presumption that 
 he might have written a book of sketches on the 
 line indicated that would have melted its readers to 
 tears as the first series moved them to laughter. 
 The world will hold on to the mirth-moving *' Geor- 
 gia Scenes" with a grateful and kindly remem- 
 brance of the author, and leave unsettled the ques- 
 tion as to what he might have done in another and 
 different field of literary achievement. What is 
 left of his writings, like what is accessible of his 
 life, is fragmentary, and may prove more appetiz- 
 ing than satisfying to the kindly constituency for 
 whom these pages have been prepared. 
 
TRAITS. 
 
 CURIOUSLY blended and balanced in Judge Long^ 
 street were two traits that to many persons 
 seem antagonistic: intense earnestness and an al- 
 most perennial humorousness. He was quickly 
 aroused in behalf of any principle or cause that he 
 espoused. Not stopping to calculate personal con- 
 sequences, he flung himself with all his force into 
 the conflict. He was an enthusiast in the good 
 sense of the word. As a thinker and teacher, as 
 a Christian and patriot, he took sides on all cur- 
 rent questions of ethics and public policy. He 
 was in vital touch with his times, and his soul was 
 stirred by every breeze of popular excitement. 
 Whether contending for a pet theory of education, 
 a disputed political dogma, the honor of his coun- 
 try, or the rights of his section, he gave himself 
 wholly to the side he took. Friends and foes alike 
 knew where to find him. As an ally he was trust- 
 ed and loved; as an antagonist he was respected. 
 His good nature brought him out of the fierce fires 
 of controversy with a temper still sunny and sweet. 
 The humor that ripples over his printed page broke 
 forth irresistibly in his conversation. ** He was 
 inimitable as a story-teller," says Dr. R. H. Rivers, 
 his colleague at Centenary College; '* no one could 
 resist the contagion of his humor. He was usually 
 the center of a listening, laughing, admiring crowds 
 
 (169) 
 
170 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 His tone, gesture, and play of features gave his 
 narratives a peculiar zest and charm." 
 
 He was a good singer, and played delightfully 
 on the flute. It has already been stated that, in 
 accordance with a custom prevalent among the 
 early Methodist preachers, he sometimes sung pul- 
 pit solos to tunes of his own making. These sim- 
 ple sacred melodies were popular for a time, but 
 did not displace the great masters of holy song. 
 The airs were mostly wedded to verses that were 
 notable rather for religious fervor than for genuine 
 poetic merit, but they caught the ear and touched 
 the hearts of the people. The sketch in the *' Geor- 
 gia Scenes" entitled ''The Song," doubtless ex- 
 presses his opinion and his taste concerning music. 
 He w^as the owner of a famous glass flute, which 
 was the wonder and admiration of his rustic neigh- 
 bors. This instrument enlivened many a pleasant 
 circle, and was the solace of many a quiet hour. 
 
 That no poetical effusion of Judge Longstreet 
 has come to the notice of his biographer is some- 
 what surprising. He had a glowing imagination, 
 a lively fancy, intensity of feeling, the rythmic in- 
 stinct in the use of words, and was well acquainted 
 with the laws of versification. But no stanza of 
 his composition is extant. The explanation may 
 be found in the fact that he had the good sense to 
 accept the axiom that if poetry is not ver}^ good it 
 is bad; or in the fact that, having wooed the muses 
 at an early period, in maturer years he became 
 ashamed of his verses and suppressed them, thus 
 saving his friends from the hypocrisy of forced 
 praise on the one hand or from the pain of bestow- 
 
TRAITS. 171 
 
 ing honest criticism on the other. Would that all 
 versifiers were as sensible and merciful ! 
 
 The moral courage that was so conspicuous a 
 trait in Judge Longstreet's character was associat- 
 ed with a sensitiveness that caused him to be deep- 
 ly pained by suspicion on the part of friends or 
 misconception by the general public. He could 
 withstand popular opinion not because he was in- 
 different to it, but because his love of truth and 
 sense of duty overbore all selfish and minor con- 
 siderations. When at times his convictions com- 
 pelled him to antagonize the views and aspirations 
 of cherished personal friends, it gave him the keen- 
 est pain. At the time when he was a teacher in 
 Emory College expounding those doctrines of po- 
 litical economy that classed him as a zealous and 
 unflinching State rights Democrat, perhaps nine- 
 tenths of the Methodist preachers with whom he 
 was closely affiliated in ecclesiastical and personal 
 relations were Whigs, most of them as ardent on 
 their side as he was on his ; while there was among 
 them a class so averse to all secular entanglements, 
 and so completely absorbed in their work as min- 
 isters of the gospel, that they had no politics. (The 
 danger to the ministry does not lie in the direction 
 taken by the class last named.) Judge Longstreet 
 warmly repelled the charge that he was a political 
 partisan, and no one will impeach his sincerity. As 
 a lecturer on political enconomy he defended what 
 seemed to him the true principles of the Federal 
 Constitution. If his teaching led his pupils to be- 
 come State rights Democrats, doubtless he thought 
 that was their good fortune, not his fault. 
 
1^2 7 UDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 Judge Longstreet's love for children was one of 
 his lovable traits. It is only a truly benignant spir- 
 it that can win and hold the love of the Httle ones 
 as he did. They loved to be near him. He could 
 so fully enter into their childish feelings and fan- 
 cies and sports that both he and they seemingly 
 forgot for the time that he was not one of them. 
 An eye-witness gives a charming picture of him 
 that illustrates this feature of his character. 
 
 During the war he spent some time with his kin- 
 dred in or near the quiet little village of Enon, in 
 Eastern Alabama. The war had broken up the 
 village school; and seeing that the little boys and 
 girls were left without instruction, he set up for 
 them an open - air academy of unique pattern. 
 Seated under the wide-spreading branches of a 
 shade-tree, the white-haired sage called the chil- 
 dren around him and taught them orthography, 
 reading, writing, and arithmetic, the moist, clean 
 sand serving as copy-book and blackboard. He 
 had some pet arithmetical theories and methods, 
 which he thus put into practice, much to his own 
 satisfaction and to the delight of his little pupils. 
 That was a happy little school: the gentleness of 
 the venerable teacher overcame the timidity of the 
 shy little lasses and the awkwardness of the bash- 
 ful country lads, while his quaint humor and funny 
 little stories held them a delighted band. The lit- 
 tle negro children shared in the privileges of this 
 peculiar school, their black faces wreathed in 
 smiles and their white teeth visible. Holding as 
 he did the strongest pro-slavery views, the negro 
 race had no truer friend than Judge Longstreet: a 
 
TRAITS. 173 
 
 paradox hard to be reconciled by those who looked 
 at the question from a distance, but readily under- 
 stood by those who inherited the institution of 
 slavery and were brought up in the midst of its 
 pecuhar conditions. The ex-President of the Uni- 
 versity of South CaroHna teaching httle negro chil- 
 dren the rudiments of learning almost within hear- 
 ing of the bugles of the Yankee cavalry then 
 raiding the vicinity is a picture that tells its own 
 story. 
 
 Judge Longstreet was a delightful letter writer 
 — wise, witty, and pathetic by turns. The most of 
 his correspondence perished by the fire of which 
 mention has already been made. Among the let- 
 ters that survived that catastrophe is one written to 
 Gov. McDuffie, his early friend and school-mate, 
 dated at Oxford, Ga., June 22, 1846, from which 
 a few of the opening sentences are here quoted to 
 indicate to the reader what was his epistolary style, 
 while they reveal something of the heart of the 
 writer. '"'Dear McDiiffie: From Washington to 
 New York, and during my tarry there, I had a 
 dreadful time of it— sick all the time, and weak as 
 an infant most of the time. In Philadelphia I did 
 gather strength enough to visit your daughter. 
 She's a sweet girl, far handsomer than I expected 
 to find her; for in point of beauty she had nothing 
 to hope for, at least on the paternal side, and yet 
 she is decidedly good-looking. Her voice is en- 
 rapturing, and, according to the best judgment 
 that I could form upon a half -hour's acquaintance, 
 she has an amiable disposition. Well, this is all 
 that a father could ask in a daughter, and more 
 
174 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 than a father has a right to expect. May God 
 preserve her to you, and you to her, for many, 
 many years ! The sight of her tore open an old 
 wound, but it soon healed again. You remember 
 that we used to talk of a match between her and 
 my dear boy Torrence." In the same letter there 
 is another paragraph which subsequent events in- 
 vest with a special interest: " My brother William 
 has a son (James) of the brightest promise, whom 
 he wishes to get in at West Point. Now if you can 
 give him any aid in the accomplishment of his 
 wishes, I pray you do it, and please enlist with you 
 as many of your colleagues as you can. Address 
 Mr. Calhoun and Isaac Holmes specially in my 
 name upon the subject." This nephew, James 
 Longstreet, whom the reader has already recog- 
 nized as the renowned Confederate general, spoke 
 of Judge Longstreet in 1889 as being to him '' more 
 than a father.'*' 
 
 Judge Longstreet' s attachments were character- 
 ized by adhesiveness as well as ardor. The friend- 
 ships that brightened his youth and early manhood 
 blessed his old age. The Dutch element in his com- 
 position made him tenacious and constant, while 
 his Norman blood imparted the warmth and gen- 
 erous enthusiasm that idealized and transfigured 
 the objects of his affection and admiration. It is 
 a bad sign when a man outlives his friendships: it 
 is usually the proof of a nature shallow or sinister. 
 
 During the session of the Southern Baptist Con- 
 vention at Columbus, Ga., in 1859, a dinner was 
 given by Mrs. Elizabeth Shorter to the patriarchs 
 of Greensboro, which elicited from Judge Long- 
 
TRAITS. 175 
 
 Street an effusion so characteristic that it is insert- 
 ed in this chapter treating specially of his traits. 
 The following account of the dinner was published 
 in the Columbus Corner Stone: 
 
 "About the 25th of last month (April), at the 
 close of the Baptist Convention in Columbus, the 
 amiable and excellent Mrs. Elizabeth Shorter gave 
 a dinner, abundant and in excellent style, to a few 
 of her old friends and the friends of her departed 
 father. There were six gentlemen present and, I 
 think, four ladies. The Rev. George Stewart 
 asked a blessing, standing. Four of the guests, 
 whose ages together amounted to three hundred 
 and fourteen years, were the Rev. 'Diel Sherwood, 
 sixty-seven; Charles D. Stewart, seventy-seven; 
 Vincent Sanford, eighty-two; and John Bethune, 
 eighty-eight. These, with Rev. George Stewart, 
 the son of Mr. Charles D. Stewart, and Daniel 
 Sanford, the son of Vincent Sanford, constituted 
 the male part of the guests. We enjoyed the din- 
 ner with great pleasure and harmony. When 
 about to separate, the oldest of the company sung 
 the Indian farewell hymn: 
 
 *' When shall we all meet again, 
 When shall we all meet again? 
 Oft shall glowing hope expire, 
 Oft shall wearied love retire, 
 Oft shall death and sorrow reign, 
 Ere we all shall meet again. 
 
 "Though in distant lands we sigh, 
 Parched beneath a hostile skv; 
 Though the deep between us*^ rolls, 
 Friendship shall unite our souls, 
 And in fancy's wide domain 
 Oft shall we all meet asrain. 
 
176 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 " When our furrowed locks arc gray, 
 Thinned by many a toil-spent day; 
 When around the j-outhful pine 
 Moss shall creep and ivy twine, 
 Long may the loved bower remain, 
 Ere we all shall meet again. 
 
 " When the dreams of life are fled, 
 When its wasted lamps are dead; 
 When in cold oblivion's shade 
 Beauty, fame, and wealth are laid 
 Wliere immortal spirits reign, 
 There may Ave all meet again!* 
 
 " In that short time one of that httle company is 
 gone: Vincent Sanford is no more. Peace to his 
 memory." 
 
 This account of the affair, meeting the eye of 
 Judge Longstreet, stirred memories of *'Auld Lang 
 Syne," and he poured forth his feeHngs in the fol- 
 lowing letter, which was published in the Southern 
 Field and Fireside^ July 2, 1859. I" offering it 
 for publication Judge Longstreet modestly ex- 
 pressed the fear that '' such a piece can be of little 
 interest to any but the old men to whom it is ad- 
 dressed." In reproducing it here no risk of cen- 
 sure from Georgia readers is incurred: 
 
 Mrs. Shorter's Dinner. 
 
 To Gen. James N. Beihiinc : O that dinner, that dinner, 
 James! The dinner given to the patriarchs of Greensboro! I 
 would rather have been at it than at a festival of as many em- 
 perors, all doing me reverence. The tears roll dow^n my checks 
 while I write about it; why, I hardly knoAV myself, partly a 
 heart-warm tribute to dear, good old brother Vincent Sanford's 
 memory — he was ripe for heaven three and forty years ago, and, 
 
 *This song is said to have been composed by three young 
 Indians who graduated at some college at the North, and com- 
 posed it when they were about to part. It was afterward set to 
 sacred music. 
 
TRAITS. 177 
 
 if possible, improved ia holiness to the daj of his death — partly 
 from hallowed associations which cluster around every name 
 that graced and consecrated my dear Elizabeth's table ; partly, 
 perchance, the sign of an old man's weakness. Well, let it flow ; 
 there is friendship in it, at least, as pure as ever bosom cham- 
 bered. 
 
 The hostess herself! She was but a child when I first formed 
 her acquaintance— a sweet child. I saw her rise to early wom- 
 anhood, and then we parted. I can only see her now as I saw 
 her then ; but there is a moral in her hospitality that tells me 
 she is even better now than she Avas then. Her most excellent 
 father did me a kindness when most needed and least expected, 
 which I could never repay. To my best of friends he was also 
 one of the best of friends. Her sainted aunt! O how I loved 
 her! Who that knew her did not.? Lovely, beautiful specimen 
 of the Christian character! Meek, gentle, lamb-like, charitable. 
 Her son "asked the blessing." Worthy son of the worthy 
 mother! — like her in feature, like her in morals. God bless him! 
 and God bless all his mother's children! 
 
 Rev. Adtel Shcr-Mood — 6y ! My fellow-laborer, and most effi- 
 cient laborer in the great temperance reform to which, in all 
 likelihood, Georgia owes in no small measure her rank in the 
 sisterhood of States. Sweet converse have we often held to- 
 gether, and sweeter prayers. Chance made me his sister's first 
 Georgia acquaintance, and good fortune made me her escort to 
 her brother's arms, far, far away from their paternal homestead, 
 in a land of strangers. My residence was the place of meeting; 
 my residence but not my"^property ; yes, it was mine, for what 
 was Mr. Torrence's was mine as freely as my own. The best of 
 men, among the very best! Here my tears gush, and my eyes 
 scarcely see the pen which traces these lines. You, friend Adiel, 
 officiated in the pulpit with warm John Howard when for the 
 first time, with my bosom friend, I bowed a penitent at the altar. 
 Your sister stood by me and prayed with me through all the 
 struggles of the new birth. O what a revival did we lead off! 
 O what happy weeks followed! Your sister is gone, Adiel ; my 
 household friend is gone. They had a happier meeting in the 
 house not made ivtth hands than the brother and sister had in his 
 hospitable mansion. We still beat about on life's troubled ocean, 
 driven wide apart for many years past — so wide, indeed, that all 
 hope of ever seeing you again long since forsook my bosom. 
 But Providence has returned you to my native State. Welcome, 
 thrice welcome, back to it, dear friend! It owes you a debt I 
 know. May I live to acknowledge it for her to you in person! 
 Charles D. Stcivart — 77 ! Thy name comes as a light through 
 
 12 
 
178 JUDGE LONGS7REET, 
 
 the gloom that overshadows me. It is but a flash, however. 
 We were closely bound in friendship's bonds ere sweet religion 
 strengthened them into love. We sported, laughed, and jested 
 together. There is not a brook around the dear village whose 
 margin we have not trod together. We set out for the 
 kingdom of heaven together. I sickened ere we set our 
 faces heavenward. Your means, jour medicines, jour comforts 
 for the sick, were ample. Thej were all at mj service unasked 
 for, and daj bj daj and night bj night administered to me bj 
 jour own hands. But still I sunk until I reached the verj brink 
 of the grave. At length the anxious looks of friends around mj 
 bed and sobs from an adjoining room reminded me that mj case 
 was hopeless. I felt mj pulse, or rather felt for it, for it flut- 
 tered imperceptible to the touch. Mj mind was clear, and, 
 strange to tell, was undisturbed bj fears. " You will find," said 
 I, "in such a drawer mj Avill, complete all to signing; hand it to 
 me." It was brought to me. One of two offices jou performed 
 for me, I do not remember which; jou held me up while I 
 traced mj name and then laid me genth^ down to die, or jou 
 held the will for mj name and then attested it as a witness. 
 The daj passed and I still breathed; another and hope revived; 
 another and I grew better; a week, and I was out of danger. 
 Ten thousand praises to Almightj God that he did not make 
 that sickness mj last! No living being out of mj familj showed 
 more delight at seeing me on mj feet again than did jou, mj 
 dear, dear old friend. For aje since, mj house has been thine 
 and thine has been mine. 
 
 John BetJmne — ■88 1 God bless him! God did bless him with 
 his greatest earthly blessing fiftj jears ago, and that was but an 
 earnest of still greater blessings now within a few dajs of him. 
 John Bethune and Vincent Sanford! Forty-three jears ago, and 
 for man J succeeding jears, their names, like partnership names, 
 were pronounced together whenever pietj was the theme. The 
 one a Methodist, the other a Baptist, but undistinguished bj their 
 walk and conversation. One slight difference 1 used to observe 
 between them: when Jesse Mercer preached. Brother Vincent 
 brightened a little the most; and when Lovick Pierce preached, 
 Brother John brightened a little the most. But no matter who 
 preached, both were certain to hear the sermon. At all relig- 
 ious services thej were found together. In all benevolent of- 
 fices thej were as one. Almost alone as representatives of their 
 respective Churches, thej stood in the village for jears; but 
 brightlj beamed their light in the darkness which surrounded 
 them, and God let them live to see the daj when almost every 
 habitation in the village was a house of prayer. 
 
TRAITS. 
 
 179 
 
 And have jou, Brother John, up to this time, been adding to 
 the large store of faith, hope, and charity which you had forty- 
 three years ago? Why, you will be made ruler over ten cities to 
 my one. You named a son after me, and sympathized deeply 
 with me when I lost my first-born; but not more than I did 
 you when you lost your Julia. Five more of mine have followed 
 my first-born, and as many of yours (?) have followed your 
 Julia — my namesake among the rest. And yet we live. Are 
 we fortunate or unfortunate? What penalties are attached 
 to long life! If I live to see the next autumnal equinox, I shall 
 have completed my sixty-ninth year. I have been deemed, and 
 actually have been, one of the happiest of men; and yet what 
 sorrows have I seen! Of my father's friends, whom I well re- 
 member in all the gayeties of life, not one svirvives. Of the com- 
 panions of my early boyhood, but six survive. Of my first 
 brethren of the bar, including three circuits and the city of Sa- 
 vannah, but seven are left. In the village where I first took you 
 by the hand, but one head of a family remains, and he had be- 
 come such only the year before we met. Of all the adults of the 
 village, I cannot count ten who yet live. Gone, gone, dear ones 
 of every age — gone down to the chamber of silence! To wit- 
 ness these things, interspersed with a thousand lesser ills, is the 
 lot of old age in its best estate. 
 
 Beyond the flight of time, 
 
 Beyond the vale of death, 
 There surely is a blessed clime 
 
 Where life is not a breath, 
 Nor life's affections transient fire. 
 Whose sparks fly upward to expire. 
 
 And yet old age is not without its joys ; and if preceded by a 
 well-ordered morning and meridian, the evening of life is the 
 sweetest and happiest of the term. The troubles incident to 
 youthful indiscretions we know no more, brother. Those who 
 in manhood's prime harassed, perplexed, and annoyed us, now 
 do us reverence. If death has hewed down most of our former 
 friends, he has intensified our love for the remnant that is left, 
 and reduplicated the happiness of our intercourse with them. 
 We have no anxieties about time's future, for time has left us no 
 future to provide for. The bustling world has pushed us away 
 to the narrow belt which separates it from the realm of death ; 
 but it is a quiet, peaceful spot. Here we find refuge in hearts 
 which cannot displace us — hearts of our own begetting, over 
 which we still exercise a kind of lordship. These, with the lit- 
 tle ones they place around us, are ceaseless fountains of joy — the 
 purest, the holiest that earth can give. Here we calmly wait the 
 
I So JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 summons Vojoys nnspcakahle and full of i^lory. Upon the whole, 
 we are fortunate, brother. I could not be with jou at our dear 
 Elizabeth's table, but I hope soon to be with jou and her and all 
 her guests at the marriage supper of the Lamb^ where our ban- 
 quet song will no longer be, " When shall we meet again?" but 
 "Alleluia! Let us be glad and rejoice, for the marriage supper 
 of the Lamb is come. Worthy is the Lamb to receive honor 
 and glorj and blessing, for he hath redeemed us to God by his 
 blood, and made us kings and priests unto God." L. — 68. 
 
 He was very sensitive and high-spirited. This 
 trait was illustrated at the International Statistical 
 Congress in London in i860, to which he had been 
 appointed as a delegate by President Buchanan. 
 Lord Brougham, in opening the Congress, made 
 a remark which Judge Longstreet regarded as an 
 insult to the United States, whereupon he (Long- 
 street) promptly retired from the body in a state 
 of high resentment. In a letter to the London 
 Morning Chronicle he vindicated his course in so 
 doing, and recites some facts concerning the negro 
 question in a way that seemed to Englishmen more 
 caustic than conciliatory. The history of his short 
 stay at Centenary College, which needs now no 
 further allusion, illustrates the same trait of char- 
 acter. 
 
 He was a modest man, but not prudish. Among 
 the honors conferred on him by literary institu- 
 tions, he prized none more highly than the degree 
 of LL.D. bestowed by Yale College in 1841 at the 
 suggestion of John C. Calhoun. His election as 
 an honorary member of the Smithsonian Institute 
 during the administration of President Pierce was 
 another honor highly appreciated by him. 
 
 His mimetic powers were extraordinary; and 
 when in the freedom of a congenial circle he gave 
 
TRAITS. l8l 
 
 free play to his genius on this line, his narrations 
 were irresistibly laughable. The peculiar flavor 
 of these sketches could not be transferred to the 
 printed page, but the charm of them lingered de- 
 lightfully in the memory of all who were fortunate 
 
 enough to hear them, 
 
ADDED TOUCHES. 
 
 THE picture of Judge Longstreet and his wife, 
 their home life, and their reciprocal influence 
 on each other will be more complete by presenting 
 to the reader the following delineation kindly fur- 
 nished by the Rev. Dr. J. T. Wightman, now pas- 
 tor of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 
 Washington, D. C: 
 
 ** It was my privilege to be associated with Judge 
 Longstreet and Mrs. Longstreet as their pastor for 
 two years, in 1859-60, while that distinguished 
 gentleman was the President of the South Caro- 
 lina College, at Columbia, in that State. The 
 campus grounds were spacious, occupying eight 
 acres, with rows of oaks walled in with dormitories. 
 It was a classic shade. The President's mansion 
 was a large, square brick building, kept in simple 
 order, where he dispensed an elegant hospitality. 
 The historic associations of the college made it 
 the Athens of the State. Here Henry, Barnwell, 
 Preston, and Thornwell had presided with distin- 
 guished ability. I have felicitated myself with the 
 thought that, perhaps, it was at my suggestion to a 
 trustee that Judge Longstreet was placed at the 
 head of the institution. 
 
 " He commanded the respect of the professors, 
 and was very popular among the students, who in 
 gleeful respect called him (sub rosa) ' Ned Brace,' 
 (182) 
 
ADDED TOUCHES. 183 
 
 in honor of his celebrated book, * Geo'rgia Scenes.' 
 The Judge said to me on one occasion that he in- 
 tended to redeem the humor of this book by writ- 
 ing another ' Georgia Scenes ' of a religious char- 
 acter, but the war kept his pen at rest. 
 
 " His management of the college evinced atten- 
 tion to detail, careful instruction, fatherly kindness, 
 and by his broad views and social qualities he won 
 the unbounded confidence of the community. He 
 had the art of popularity. His humor bubbled 
 over. He greatly enjoyed the confusion of his 
 host with whom he was stopping at a General 
 Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 South, of which he was a member. It was the day 
 of his arrival, when visitors were calling. * Is Judge 
 Longstreet in?' said one; 'Is Gov. Longstreet 
 in?' said another; 'Is Dr. Longstreet in?' said a 
 third; 'Is the Rev. Mr. Longstreet in?' asked a 
 fourth; 'Is President Longstreet in?' continued 
 the callers, until his host was so upset that he was 
 forced to beg by what title he should announce his 
 distinguished guest. 
 
 " President Longstreet was a Southern gentle- 
 man, conspicuous for ability alike in the civil and 
 ecclesiastical bodies of the country, and distin- 
 guished for literary attainments. He was a clear 
 if not a profound student. He could not be ranked 
 with pulpit orators, for he studiously avoided all 
 displays of that kind ; nor was he metaphysical in 
 the pulpit, but was closely logical, and always pre- 
 sented a correct exposition of the truth, enforced 
 it with sound practical lessons, and sometimes 
 with a quaint point that fixed it in the mind. 
 
184 JUDGE LONGSTREEr. 
 
 *' In the social circle he sparkled with wit. His 
 company was sought. He was simple, and easily 
 approached. A little boy felt at home in his pres- 
 ence. The student enjoyed his friendship. His 
 love disarmed his greatness. 
 
 " He left his mark on the character of the times. 
 It was during the turbulent days of secession, when 
 the ordinance had been passed at Columbia, that 
 his influence was most felt at the college. 
 
 " Between President Longstreet and his lovely 
 wife there was a striking contrast. He was tall, 
 bent, scarred, an oak among men; she was small, 
 graceful, with a sweet face, a flower. The flower 
 had climbed to the summit of the oak, and there 
 rested as a crown of beauty, shedding over the 
 rugged form and inspiring with fresh life every 
 outstretched arm of that giant intellect. She had 
 entwined herself into all his labors, and it would 
 be a question which influenced the college boys 
 more, the President or his charming lady. Her 
 power was not seen, but felt. Her husband could 
 not have attained the same greatness had he not 
 possessed a better Eve, capable of guiding his 
 house and of influencing his profound thoughts. 
 He was keenly alive to passing influences, and his 
 nature was susceptible of vivid impressions. On 
 that nature she impressed the convictions of her 
 own mind. His large and dependent heart gladly 
 responded to the thoughts so pure and lovely, and 
 made him share with her the responsibilities of his 
 high position. She nobly accepted the loving 
 charge, and linked herself in sympathy to her hus- 
 band's loftiest aspirations for a higher life, and 
 
ADDED TOUCHES. 1 85 
 
 breathed into them the inspiration that comes only 
 from a pious heart. 
 
 "There was a charm about the house. The 
 table smiled. The quiet atmosphere was redolent 
 of love. The lady was a queen in manners. Noth- 
 ing was commanded, yet every one owned the su- 
 premacy of a subtle power. The servants caught 
 the spirit. Even the President was glad to ac- 
 knowledge himself the loyal subject of an accom- 
 plished wife, who dutifully studied every respon- 
 sibility of his life. 
 
 " There flowed in her conversation a rhythm of 
 delight. She was familiar with the English clas- 
 sics; Milton, Shakespeare, Longfellow, Keats were 
 her companions. She had put them in her mem- 
 ory, and the sublime passages of these masters of 
 poetry rolled from her bewitching tongue in collo- 
 quial eloquence. She played on a better than a 
 Syrian harp. The President drank from these 
 wells of pure English, and sweetened the tone of 
 his literature from the poetic lips of his wife. The 
 salons of Paris may have attracted the great men 
 of the age. Napoleon may have been inspired by 
 the brilliant women of his time; but in the home 
 of Mrs. Loncrstreet friends found a concrenial re- 
 treat, pervaded with a pure atmosphere far off 
 from riotous halls ; and in this charmed circle they 
 saw a purer embodiment of womanhood than could 
 have been seen at the dazzling court of Louis XVL 
 
 ** It was a Christian home — no wine nor noisy 
 show, no hollow flattery nor nodding plumes hid- 
 ing the worm that was gnawing at the heart, no 
 gilded vanity and smooth and facile courtesy and 
 
1 86 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 sarcastic epigram; but a home of real joy and sub- 
 stantial love, lit up with hope, where a Christian 
 wife inspires her husband with the noblest senti- 
 ments of conjugal fidelity. 
 
 " Somehow there crept out from that little wom- 
 an a commanding motherly power that held three 
 hundred young men loyal to the college. The 
 President sat at her feet, and the boys at his. The 
 days were dark and turbulent. The State had se- 
 ceded. The young men were restive to rush into 
 the war, yet they were held in prudent restraint. 
 We have no doubt that the President often went 
 from his own house into duty endowed with a new 
 spirit; and, like a son of Minerva, was made invul- 
 nerable by the powder of a woman. 
 
 '' This home was a shelter from the storm, and 
 far above the darkness he saw one star that shed 
 a soft and heavenly light on his troubled spirit. 
 Nor was this a house of idleness. Those dehcious 
 biscuits and smoking rolls and the aromatic cof- 
 fee told the story of a dutiful housewife. The 
 table was hospitable, and from that board went 
 food into the mouths of the poor, and at the foot- 
 way of that mansion stood one whose hands had 
 become the unweary instruments of dispensing to 
 the needy. 
 
 '*Her charity was large. Her faith was simple. 
 She was a Methodist w^oman. Her Bible was 
 marked with devotion ; and could the walls of her 
 chamber repeat the burden of her prayers, they 
 would become witnesses of her fidelity to God. 
 Here was the secret of her power. She lived with 
 God; she loved him; all was his. No woman can 
 
ADDED TOUCHES. 1 87 
 
 be truly great without God. No home can become 
 a retreat for man and a shelter from the troubles 
 of life without a Christian woman, who guides the 
 house. 
 
 ** Mrs. Longstreet was a typical Southern lady. 
 She was environed in her Southern land with all 
 those associations that contributed to the make-up 
 of a beautiful female character. The portrait of one 
 of these Southern ladies of the olden time seems 
 now like a family picture found in the garret cov- 
 ered with dust, but which with the fondest delight 
 and surprise we love to brush off and reverently in- 
 spect. In the rush of this faster age, when the 
 simplicity of domestic life has almost been swept 
 away, and our homes have almost been filled with 
 the rubbish of European cast off style, we can 
 scarcely appreciate the native dignity of a simple 
 and sincere woman of the olden times. Her home 
 was a power. If home be a. forgotten place, if 
 wives are banished to the street, if the sacred pri- 
 vacy of man's dearest asylum be sacrificed to so- 
 ciety, if it is noisy with bacchanalian songs, if it 
 become a scene of debate and the saloon of gam- 
 blers, how could that pure transplant of divine 
 love, that flower of heaven, a good woman, grow 
 into the beauty of a perfect womanhood? The 
 ruin of home is the ruin of woman. She is home. 
 Mrs. Longstreet made her home a paradise to her 
 husband, and in it he found no temptation that led 
 him into disloyalty to virtue." 
 
 And these tender and discriminating touches 
 from the pen ot" Hon. L. Q. C. Lamar cannot be 
 omitted: 
 
l88 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ** Mrs. Longstreet was the mother of my wife, 
 and she was in love, tenderness, and goodness 7ny 
 mother. It is, therefore, hardly possible for me 
 either to think or speak of her as if in the per- 
 spective. She was a true type of a true Southern 
 woman; and when I say that, I mean she embod- 
 ied that indescribable charm, that spirit of love, 
 that subtle effluence of refinement, that piety and 
 culture of character which rarely failed to be 
 wrought into the nature of a woman reared under 
 a Southern roof, with its sacred environments and 
 clustering joys. 
 
 '* To an eye not accustomed to analyze the in- 
 dications of female character, she might appear 
 too reserved, and even retiring, to possess those 
 qualities that make up a heroine in the conflicts of 
 life. But her modesty, which, like a sensitive 
 plant, shrank from rude familiarities, was sus- 
 tained by a courage that never shrunk from hard- 
 ship, trial, and self-denial. The war did not sub- 
 due her spirit. She came from its desolations 
 undismayed by the poverty which it entailed upon 
 herself and the dear ones of her own family. She 
 visited the homes of the poor, and turned her own 
 into a hospital, and did not hesitate to bathe her 
 gentle hand in blood that she might bind the 
 wounds of the dying. 
 
 *'The gentleness of her manners, the grace of 
 her motion, the reserve of her dignity only served 
 the better to set off the brightness that shone in 
 her conversation, and to disclose an intelligence 
 that threw a charm over the modesty of her nature. 
 Full of warmth and tenderness and depth of feel- 
 
ADDED TOUCHES. 1 89 
 
 ing, confiding, trustworthy, a lover of home, a true 
 wife and mother, her hand touched and beautified 
 and sanctified all domestic relations. 
 
 *' She was nurtured amid an elegant hospitality, 
 and made famiUar with all the duties and delicate 
 relations of social life, which strengthened her 
 character, and unconsciously prepared her to gUde 
 into the higher power of mistress over a numerous 
 body of domestics and dependents, and to govern 
 a Southern patriarchal home. The profound and 
 long-abiding attachment between the mistress and 
 her old servants, including the descendants of the 
 old negro nurse who rocked her in the cradle, and 
 the dusky maids with whom she played ' house 'in 
 childhood, was not shaken by the war; but it fin- 
 gers even to this day, and illustrates the substan- 
 tial and lasting influences of the old home fife." 
 
THE END. 
 
 AT the close of the war Judge Longstreet re- 
 turned to Oxford, Miss. His opinions were 
 unchanged and his spirit unbroken. He had read 
 history too well to accept the shallow assumption 
 that the worsted party in a fight is always in the 
 wrong. He knew that good causes often seem to 
 be lost causes in this world. The appeal to brute 
 force in war is decided by brute force. On that 
 arena an able-bodied prize-fighter is superior to a 
 feeble-bodied saint, and ten soldiers well fed and 
 equipped are too hard for half the number half-fed 
 and poorly equipped. In men and money the 
 North was too strong for the South. That to him 
 was all of it. No word was spoken or written by 
 him after the war ended that indicated any change 
 of opinion or any compunctions of conscience con- 
 cerning the part he had played in the great conflict 
 of ideas that preceded the conflict of arms. If he 
 had had any misgivings, he would have expressed 
 them. On the contrary, there is evidence enough 
 in his reply to Mr. Reemelin that he held tena- 
 ciously to the political views he had always main- 
 tained, and was ready to break a lance in their 
 defense against any opponent. But he had the 
 common sense that accepts the inevitable and deals 
 with things as they are ; and from the broken frag- 
 ments of his political hopes he sought, in common 
 (190) 
 
THE END. 
 
 191 
 
 with the truest surviving soldiers of the late South- 
 ern Confederacy, to reconstruct the temple of the 
 Federal Union. He made no hypocritical profes- 
 sion of repentance, but he was neither factious nor 
 obstructive. 
 
 Besides this common sense he had another prin- 
 ciple of action that now manifested its presence 
 and power. He was a Christian, and his thought 
 turned toward religion as the source of true com- 
 fort and undying hope. No shadow of doubt con- 
 cerning the eternal verities that were the objects 
 of his faith crossed his mind ; no murmur escaped 
 his lips because of the calamities that were permit- 
 ted to come upon the South and upon his own tem^ 
 poral fortunes. His courage and hope were rooted 
 in the same faith that enabled the apostle Paul to 
 say: " We are troubled on every side, yet not dis- 
 tressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; 
 persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not 
 destroyed." (2 Cor. iv. 8, 9.) 
 
 He had years before projected a work entitled 
 ** Correction of Canonized Errors of Biblical In- 
 terpretation," and it is a remarkable evidence of 
 his will power and buoyancy of spirit that at this 
 late period of his life he set about the study of the 
 Hebrew language that he might be the better qual- 
 ified for the task. The Bible was the companion 
 of his days and nights, and in that companionship 
 he found spiritual illumination, enlargement, and 
 delight. He grew in grace and in the knowledge 
 of heavenly things. His piety took on a deeper 
 and serener tone, his noble face reflected the 
 spiritual-mindedness of a soul in daily commun- 
 
192 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ion with God. How much was lost by the burn- 
 ing of the manuscript of this book, upon which he 
 had set his heart, none can tell, but the writing of 
 it was to him a blessing and a joy, and its subject- 
 ive benefits were a sufficient compensation for the 
 time and toil given to it. The death of his wife 
 turned his thought heavenward with still greater 
 intensity, for if ever there was a union of souls for 
 both worlds, it was theirs. Absorbed with the la- 
 bor of love he had undertaken, and longing for 
 heaven's rest and reunions, growing feebler and 
 gentler as the days went by, he moved among the 
 circles of Oxford venerated as a sage and loved as 
 a father. 
 
 He died July 10, 1870, surrounded by the mem- 
 bers of his family circle. The death scene w^as 
 almost a demonstration of immortality. His mind 
 was clear, and his soul was calm in the assurance 
 of Christian hope. Placing his finger upon his 
 wrist, he marked the beating of his failing pulse. 
 Growing weaker, his hand dropped away, and the 
 finger lost its place. Motioning that it should be 
 replaced, it was done, and he resumed the count 
 of his last heart-beats, growing fainter and fainter. 
 *^Look, Jennie, look!" exclaimed one of the awe- 
 struck by-standers, as he beheld a sudden illumi- 
 nation overspread the pale face of the dying man, 
 with a look of wonder and joy in his eyes, and 
 every feature expressing unearthly rapture. That 
 was the end. 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 
 
 [These old letters, it is thought, will throw some side lights on the times 
 when Ihey were written, and help to fill some gaps in this biography. They 
 will be appreciated by the class of readers for whom, they are intended. — 
 The Author. J 
 
 FROM JUDGE LONGSTREET TO A. H. STEPHENS. 
 
 Oxford, Miss., September 22, 1869. 
 
 My Dear Stephens: I write joii this letter because I know 
 that it will please you, because 1 think it is due to jou, and be- 
 cause my heart forbids me to repress it. I have said many 
 things of your political course, commonly disapprobatory ; I 
 have said as many things of your private character, alzvays in 
 the highest degree complimentary. Well, if you were right in 
 those matters which called forth my strictures, I ask pardon for 
 them ; if you were wrong, you have in your recent works made 
 such ample amends for your errors that I most freely and fully 
 consign them all to oblivion. 
 
 I read your "Z,//^" w-ith interest, youi book with delight, and 
 your reply to Curtis with commingled emotions of transport 
 and triumph; for, somehow or another, I have always had a 
 sort of parental feeling toward you even in my corrections, or 
 rather in spite of them. Your correspondence with Bledsoe 
 never inet my eye, but I read his review of your work which 
 gave birth to it, and I pronounced it at once hypercritical. Noth- 
 ing that I ever said about you will compare in harshness with 
 A\fhat I have said about and to him, for I thought he injured 
 me repeatedly and covertly. He said I did him injustice, and 
 perhaps I did to some extent; but if I did, the supposed offenses 
 are long since forgiven, as I hope the retributions are. I men- 
 tion these things as preliminary to what I have to say of the 
 recent productions of his pen. You will learn from it that my 
 judgment is not the result of previous bias in his favor. I con- 
 sider the Southern Review the best periodical of the kind ever 
 published in America; and to the South, a fortress and a fort- 
 une. His work entitled "Is Jeff Davis a Traitor.^"' I have not 
 seen, but the Hon. Jacob Thompson says that it is the ablest 
 vindication of our State rights doctrines that he ever read in so 
 small a compass; and I say yours is the best that I ever read in 
 
 13 (193) 
 
1^4 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 so large a compass. Now Bledsoe, Avhcn he was with me, was 
 an old school Federalist, warp and tilling. This, I believe, he 
 somewhere acknowledges openly. You may have been all your 
 life, in principle, a politician of the Jeffersonian school; and, 
 for aught I know, you may be able to pick out a hundred pas- 
 sages from your speeches and writings to pro\e it, but from 1840 
 to the appearance of your book I never regarded you as such. 
 Of course, then, I never expected to see a vindication of State 
 sovereignty from the pen of either of you, much less such a 
 masterly vindication of the doctrine as you have both laid be- 
 fore the world. But the great wonder of the whole matter is 
 that you two should have relieved me, in my old age, from the 
 arduous labor of a work upon the same subject which I had 
 commenced, but which I am sure I could not live to finish, by 
 anticipating me in nearly all that I could have said in that work. 
 1 but just commenced it, and flung it aside until I could dispose 
 of some more important matters. These matters are of a relig- 
 ious character, and you will hear of them anon. 
 
 Still I have some views of State sovereignty which have never 
 occurred to anybody else so far as I know, and which seem to 
 me to be of very great force. Now if you will have Curtis's 
 strictures upon your book, and your reply to it, pamphleted in 
 good readable type^ and send me a pamphlet, I will write a re- 
 view of the controversy ; and I flatter myself that between us 
 we will reduce the great jurist to atoms. You have floored 
 him, and, for your own credit's sake you ought to book the con- 
 troversy. Your reply I consider the master effort of your life, 
 if any thing could be better than your reply to Campbell upon 
 Ohio and Georgia. By the way, did you not take the hint of 
 that comparison from my comparison of Georgia and Massa- 
 chusetts.'* 
 
 Well, when I think of you and Toombs as you now are, and 
 as you were twelve or fourteen years ago, I feel like killiiig the 
 fatted calf ^ and ivaktng up music and dancing. " But we were not 
 prodigals; we have always stood square on the Virginia and 
 Kentucky resolutions!" Well, yes, but somehow or another I 
 took up the notion that in 1840 you took a sudden jumping-fit, 
 and jumped off the resolutions upon log cabins, cider-barrels, 
 and 'coon-skins; and as I could not date your back-jump for 
 many years, I considered you clean gone from the faith of your 
 fathers. Hence my rejoicing when I found you both not only 
 planted upon the resolutions, but defending them with arms in- 
 vincible. Well, as Ransy Snifile says, " we are all friends now." 
 Toombs has endeared himself to me recently unspeakably, and 
 I am very sure you would have done the same with like oppor- 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 
 
 195 
 
 tunities. In truth, I do not believe the day has ever been when 
 either of jou would not as readily have ministered to my needs 
 as the best friend I have in the world. 
 
 You know that I am and always have been a man of truth, 
 and I know that you will not question the sincerity of one word 
 that I have recorded in this letter. Men may, therefore, be po- 
 litical opponents and personal friends. May our friendship be 
 cemented by a stronger luting than earth can furnish, and con- 
 tinue and strengthen when all things earthly shall have passed 
 away ! 
 
 Yours sincerely, A. B. Longstreet. 
 
 lyiLLIAM C. PRESTON TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Columbia, S. C, March 3, 1858, 
 
 My Dear Sir : You were so kind as to permit me to under- 
 stand that you would at some time favor us with a lectvn-e at the 
 Athenaeum. May 1 ask and hope that it may be convenient to 
 you to do so shortly.? I wish to establish a regular lecture every 
 Friday evening during the spring, and should be glad to have it 
 inaugvn-ated by you. The professors of the college promise me 
 that they will follow you in turn. The Athenaeum is an institu- 
 tion cognate to your own pursuits, and to those high purposes 
 which are known to have actuated your life. The Athcmrum has 
 no material interest in its organization. Its purposes are pure- 
 ly philanthropic, and, of course, claim to be in co-operation 
 with the highest of all philanthropy— /W/^/o;/. 
 
 I am, dear sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 William C. Preston. 
 
 Judge Longstreet. 
 
 HOPE HULL TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Athens, February 23, 1844. 
 My Dear Friends: I heard for the first time, only about two 
 hours before receiving your letter, that you had lost your little 
 boy; and, although I have rarely met with a child out of my 
 own family that took so strong hold of my affections as did 
 your darling Rebecca, and although I shall feel her absence 
 from your family circle very much, 3-et I felt some relief when 
 I learned that you were not mourning for your only son. The 
 vounger children occupy more of our attention ; the elder more 
 c)f our thoughts, our hopes, our fears; and therefore we feel 
 the absence of the little ones more at first, but we sooner be- 
 
96 
 
 5^ UDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 come accustomed to the loss. We may feel the stroke more 
 keenly, but the pain does not last so long. 
 
 I once saw a remark that gave me much consolation under 
 a like bereavement. The idea was this: It ought to be the sole 
 object of parents to lead their children (" prone to wander ") into 
 the heavenly fold of Christ, all other desires, hopes, and views 
 being nothing in comparison with that. Now if the great Shep- 
 herd should, in compassion for our ignorance and weakness, 
 take those little lambs at once into his bosom, never to be in 
 danger or want or suffering again, ought we to repine.-' Should 
 Ave not rejoice rather, and thank the kind Shepherd for doing at 
 once for us that which should be the work of our whole lives; 
 that which we only endeavor to effect by precept and example, 
 and might fail at last to accomplish,'* The idea was a very con- 
 soling one to me, and seemed a very happy illustration of our 
 inability to control the waywardness of our little lambs, and 
 save them from those devouring wolves, evil men, and e\ il pas- 
 sions, and the roaring lion. May God comfort and strengthen 
 3^our hearts, and abundantly make up the loss of your precious 
 little girl by larger supplies of his grace and Spirit! 
 
 As it regards young s, the President did submit the letter 
 
 to the Faculty. / was absent at the time. The decision was 
 unanimous that he could not be received. I think it does not 
 materially change the merits of the case that " he was not strict- 
 ly dismissed or expelled." He had fallen under the censure of 
 the government of the college for grave offenses, or, in college 
 parlance, crimes of which we were informed. Now, we some- 
 times send a student away for idleness or inattention to college 
 duties; and we usually advise the father to take his son away 
 and try another school and new associates; and such delin- 
 quents we may and sometimes do recommend to be received 
 into other schools, or simply state that he is dismissed at his 
 father's request, but never when he is chargeable with such of- 
 fenses as 's. 
 
 But I believe entirely in the correctness of your views in re- 
 lation to cutting off a young man's opportunities for acquiring 
 education, and I so expressed myself, I think, in one of my let- 
 ters to you. Collegiate institutions have fallen into an erro- 
 neous manner of action in such cases. The laws of all colleges 
 recognize a difference between expulsion and dismission. That 
 difference has been lost sight of. It used to be thus considered: 
 When a student is expelled, no other respectable school can re- 
 ceive him; but if he be dismissed only, then another college 
 may admit him without giving oifense to the institution from 
 which he was sent; or the same school mav receive him back 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 197 
 
 whenever thej may see proper and give him another trial, the 
 only question in either case being: Shall we take the risk of 
 getting a troublesome scholar or injurious young man in the 
 hope of reforming him? I say these things were formerly so 
 regarded. Not so now. Our Faculty, and I presume yourb, 
 and I am told other boards of instruction regard the terms syn- 
 onymous. Now I think the old rule should re-enacted, and it 
 would at once remove all the difiiculties. Two students might 
 be gvulty of the same violation of laws at the same time, and 
 one might be expelled, the other dismissed. Both condemned, 
 and only one recommended to mercy. This rule would keep 
 up a proper distinction in the degrees of punishment. What 
 think you.'' 
 
 Dr. Stevens, before iiis election to the professorship, accepted 
 the appointment of orator for one of your Societies. He is anx- 
 ious to know the precise day on which that oration is to be de- 
 livered, so that he may know as soon as may be whether he can 
 attend or be obliged to resign. The last is niuch the more prob- 
 able, although he would be pleased to perform the duty if he 
 can absent himself from his engagement here. He asks you to 
 give him directly, or through me, the desired information at an 
 early day. 
 
 Many thanks for your kind offer of a home to William Bacon. 
 But it's just like you and your wife do things. He left for Wal- 
 ton Court early in the week. 
 
 Ann and I beg to offer our kindest regards and tenderest 
 sympathies to all the family. 
 
 Your letter was received this morning. 
 
 Very truly yours, H. Hull. 
 
 JUDGE PETTIGRU TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Columbia, Nov. 29, 1S57. 
 My Dear Lonfrstrect : I ought to have been the first to an- 
 nounce your election to the first scat in the South Carolina Col- 
 lege, which took place on the 25th inst., and has been already 
 communicated to you by our Secretary. Your letter to Gen. 
 Rogers dispelled the doubt that rested on the sul:)ject of your 
 consent, and at the first ballot, without any preconcert, you were 
 chosen as the President of the college in a very full meeting of 
 the Board of Trustees. It is an evidence of the high esteem 
 which yovu* life and character have created among those who 
 never saw you, for I believe Judge Wardlaw and myself and his 
 brother were the only persons on the Board that could claim a 
 
I9S 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 personal acquaintance with you. And I am happv to say that 
 the way in which our nomination has been received outside of 
 the Board is highly gratifying to your friends and cannot be less 
 so to yourself. I hope you will be able to leave Mississippi at 
 so early a day as to be settled here in your new residence and to 
 make yourself somewhat at home before the ist of January, 
 when the college exercises begin to assume their stated course 
 after the interruption of the Christmas recess. As you are not 
 new to the task of governing a seminary of this kind, I hope 
 that you will easily adapt yourself to the "duties of your new sit- 
 uation. I Hatter myself that you will meet with a friendly re- 
 ception on the part of the gentlemen that are to be associated 
 with you, and that you will commence your labors with the pres- 
 tige of public favor. But I would not conceal from you that the 
 task which you have undertaken is one of no ordinary difficulty. 
 This college has never been remarkable for the docility of our 
 youth to the restraints of authority. To maintain the cause of 
 order in such a college requires the firmness of a strong hand 
 tempered by the prudence of an enlightened discretion. And 
 it is on these qualifications that we depend for your successful 
 administration of this great public trust. And I assure you, my 
 dear Longstreet, that not only on public grounds, but on those 
 of long cherished sentiments of early friendship, I feel the great- 
 est solicitude for success. And hoping that we may enjoy more 
 frequent opportunities of renewing the intercourse that has been 
 so long suspended, I am yours faithfully, 
 
 J. L. Pettigru. 
 The Rev. A. B. Longstreet, Abbeville, Miss. 
 
 JUDGE LONGSTREET TO COL. LAMAR. 
 
 Oxford, Miss., Nov. 13, 1862. 
 My Dear Lucius: To avail myself of the bearer's hand I write 
 to you. We are in a peck of* troubles. Your plantation will 
 soon be a battle-field. We shall be whipped on it, and the Yan- 
 kees will make a desert of it. Mac. is ready to move off the hands, 
 but where to he knows not, and I know not how to advise him. 
 He speaks of taking them to a railroad in progress in this State. 
 I think they would be safe inor about Sarepta; but hoAv are thev 
 to be disposed of there.? At the salt-works in Alabama thev 
 could make an ample support, but there must be a great dearth 
 of provisions there. So at the New Iberia salt-works, Louis- 
 iana, but the Yankees will soon take them. As to your planta- 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 
 
 199 
 
 tion, it matters but little whether it be made the eamping-ground 
 of our forces during the winter or fall into the hands of the ene- 
 my ; in either event you will have neither stock nor provisions 
 in the spring. Of course Oxford falls into the hands of the 
 Yankees as soon as our troops are driven from the river. Wife 
 will stay and meet them, Virginia and children will go to Ox- 
 ford or Covington, Ga., and I will skulk about the country here 
 somewhere. I say " we shall be whipped," for I consider this 
 about as certain as we fight. . . . The prospect before vis is 
 awful. 
 
 If you go to England, and I have not a chance to give you a 
 letter of introduction to her, search out Mrs. McCulloch, wife 
 of a Member of Parliament, who introduced herself to me at 
 Sir Milnor Gibson's party and who has since sent her respects 
 to me, and introduce yourself to her as mv son-in-law and the 
 bearer of my warmest regards to her. Run over to Chelms- 
 ford, visit Admiral McHardy's family and do the like to the 
 whole family, presenting my most grateful acknowledgments 
 to them for the happiest hours of my visit to Europe spent 
 under their roof. 
 
 The government has a quantity of cotton in the northern 
 part of this county which should be removed immediately, or 
 the Yankees will get it, or it will be burned. So I told Mr. Poe 
 the other day, when he very coolly replied: "Mr. DeBow" {in 
 Jackson!) "is making arrangements to move it." I am looking 
 daily for an advance of the enemy. 
 
 Henry will hold on to his place. 
 
 Heaven bless you. A. B. Longstreet. 
 
 IV. GILMORE SIMMS TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Woodlands, S. C, March 22, i860. 
 
 Hon. A. B. Loncrstreet, Dear Sir: I owe to you the original MS. 
 biography which you were so good as to send me, and beg you 
 to accept my thanks for your polite attention. I did not pre- 
 viously answer your letter, as I desired to be able to report that 
 the material had all been arranged and sent on to the publishers. 
 This is now done. I have written to Messrs. Appleton to abridge 
 as little as possible. In preparing your material, I separated the 
 matter relating to William Longstreet and made that into a sep- 
 arate article preceding yours, as it seemed to me to merit a place 
 for itself. 
 
 Yours very truly and respectfully, W. Gilmore Simms. 
 
200 JUDGE LONGS r RE ET. 
 
 DR. L. M. SMITH TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Emory College, Oxford, Ga., April i6, 1870. 
 Rev. A. B. Longstreet — Honored and Beloved Doctor: It has 
 been a long time since I had the pleasure of hearing from you 
 directly; and in common with many of your friends and former 
 pupils in Georgia I earnestly desire to see you once more face 
 to face. Will you not gratify this desire by making a visit to 
 Oxford this next summer? Dr. Lamar has promised to address 
 the literary societies. Will you not accompany him and deliv- 
 er the prizes to the Sophomore declaimers with customary ad- 
 dress? In the name of the entire Faculty I earnestly request 
 you to do us the honor of accepting this invitation. I hope I 
 shall have an early affirmative response, that I may gladden col- 
 lege, Church, and country with the announcement that Judge 
 Longstreet will be in Oxford at our approaching Commence- 
 ment. I need not tell you how gladly you will be welcomed by 
 your old friends, nor how joyfully Kirs. Lane and Callie will 
 unite with me in extending to you the hospitalities of my home. 
 You are well aware that you have a home in every house and 
 heart in Oxford. I am greatly gratified at the prospect of hear- 
 ing and seeing Lucius again. Please give to him assurances of 
 my highest regard. It is probable that I shall attend the Mem- 
 phis Conference if I can do so consistently with my official du- 
 ties here. If so, I may have the pleasure of seeing one or both 
 of you during the session of that great Methodist Congress. I 
 should be happy to hear from you before leaving, in the event I 
 should go. I have had a great deal of hard work to do, and feel 
 greatly the need of rest both for body and mind. But I must 
 stop my running pen. I only intended to write a brief note, and 
 I am unconsciously prolonging it into a letter. Asking, my 
 dear doctor, an interest in your prayers alike for the college, 
 myself, and family, I remain as ever yours affectionately and 
 truly, Luther M. Smith. 
 
 PRESIDENT DAY TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Yale College, Aug. 20, 1851. 
 Rei\ and Dear Sir: Permit me to express my gratification at 
 having it in my power to state to you that the corporation of 
 this college at our public Commencement the present week have 
 conferred on you the degree of Doctor of Laws. I am aware 
 that these academic honors are liable to a diminution of their in- 
 trinsic value by being distributed with too lavish a hand. But 
 this college aims to make a selection of men of such distinguished 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 20I 
 
 merit as ^vill confer honor rather than receive it by having their 
 names enrolled in the list of its favorites. 
 
 With hi-h respect and with affectionate personal regard, your 
 , V \ t,.,,or.f Jeremiah Day. 
 
 obedient servant, J 
 
 Rev. a. B. Longstreet, LL.D. 
 
 PROF. WILLIAM BACON STEVENS TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 Philadelphia, January 8, 1858. 
 My Dear Sir: I learn with great pleasure that the Trustees of 
 the South Carolina College have elected you its P^'^^if "t; and 
 though at this distance, with years intervening s^nce I had the 
 pleas^ure of seeing you, I feel impelled by my old Geojia f.-iend- 
 shin to offer you my sincere congratulations. I have not lost 
 sight of you since I had the pleasure of knowing you in Athens 
 aid at Emory College, Oxford, and I am gl-^Jl--^:>;-;have^^^^^ 
 turned from your Mississippi exile to the sea-board States agaim 
 My brother-in-law. Prof. Henry Coppee, of the ';,n^vei-s ty of 
 Pennsylvania, in this city, has recently published a woik on 
 logic which I am anxious to bring to your notice. 
 
 Prof. Coppee is a native Georgian; was educated at West 
 Point N Y.; was in everv battle with Gen. Scott m Mexico, or 
 gallant conduct in which he was brevetted, and at the con^lu- 
 Sn of the war was stationed at the Military Academy, West 
 Po^nt, as Principal Assistant Professor of Ethics. While in that 
 department he was elected to supply the vacancy caused by he 
 death of Prof. Henry Reed. He then resigned his commission 
 in the army, and resides here. , ., ^ t u 
 
 His logic^ s, in my estimation, the best text-book that I have 
 
 ever seem I taught logic as one of my branches for five years 
 
 hrthe University'of Georgia, but I always felt crippled because 
 
 I had no proper text-book, and I know many other professors 
 
 i-ho have^ee'n troubled in the same way. Hedge is too meager 
 
 and inaccurate, Whately is too abstruse and difficult Mill is too 
 
 'diffu e and involved ; and there was, in fact no suitable work for 
 
 college boys until Prof. Coppee has happily supplied the ^.-W- 
 
 TraUan Lest, however, you should think I speak too flatterng- 
 
 WI w 11 state that though the book has been published only a 
 
 ^W months it is already adopted as the text-book in seve" 01 
 
 eLht coUe-es, and among them Yale and Princeton, ceitainlv 
 
 vefy highliuthority. I have requested the P^bh^her to send 
 
 yo/a c'opy, which\vill, however, speak for itself I bought 
 
 that if it met your approbation as a scientific work it would grati- 
 
202 :>'rz)(/z: LOXi.srjuEisT. 
 
 iy voii to introduce a book on logic into a Southern college 
 ^v^itlen bv a Southerner ami a Georgian. 
 
 It is so rare to iind good text-books written by Soutlierners 
 that Southern colleges should introduce thcni whenever their 
 merit will perniit. 
 
 \\'ith sentinients of sincere respect I remain yoiu's truly. 
 
 William 1>acox Stkakns. 
 Pkhsident a. B. LoxGj^rKLLr, LL.D., South Carolina College. 
 
 M/:S. LOXGSTREET TO HER //i'SBAXD. 
 
 Oxford, August S, iS6o. 
 
 Just as I was hastily closing the lirst sheet inclosed, Lucius 
 called my attention to your communication in the Lo/u/o/i Morii- 
 i'li;' C//ronic/f\ We were not much surprised at your withdrawal 
 from the Congress, having seen a brief notice of Lord Brough- 
 am's remarks about two days previous in the Columbia Guardtan. 
 I saw and heard no more of it, however, from any other paper; 
 and concluded, w hile writing, it was not worth while to allude 
 to it, as it might be a hoax, w hen I read the little paragraph in 
 the iimjfJtun, which was simply this: '*At the International 
 Statistical Congress, which was convened at London, Lord 
 Brougham called Mr. Dallas's attention to the fact that there 
 was a negro present, who was a member of that body. The 
 negro rose and thanked Brougham for his kindly recognition, 
 w hich w as loudly cheered." 1 asked Lucius what it meant and 
 why Lord B, should do so. He replied that it was meant for 
 you, because you were from a slave-holding State, and tliat it 
 was placing you in a ticklish situation. Your position was 
 quite a delicate one, and seemed to think something must needs 
 grow out of it. He and Henry both think you took tlie proper 
 course. Lucius told me that he was rather fearful you mioht 
 not notice it, and thereby draw censure upon yourself. We are 
 all grieved to think your mission has been attended with any 
 circumstance to mar its pleasure and defeat its object, but you 
 have given the English some home thrusts and told them some 
 truths wliich I hope w ill do them good. 
 
 When 1 lirst read your letter, I concluded vou would return 
 on the first Cunard steamer that left for thel". S., and that it 
 would be useless to mail my letter. Lucius said you would 
 certainly wait until you heard from your government, and, 
 upon a more careful perusal, I came to "the conclusion that you 
 might reiuain even for weeks to come in some part of Europe, 
 and so I would send this whether it reached vou or not. If it 
 
.so.://-: ()/./) /./I'/'/'/C/x'S. 
 
 203 
 
 is not .1 matter of dvitv for you to return promptly as a u^oycrn- 
 nicnt agent who has failed to effect tlie purj)ose of liis mission, 
 1 can't sec ^vhy yon should not carry out your original plan of 
 seeing as much of Great Britain and the Continent as the vaca- 
 tion will allow you. We ^yoldd greatly prefer to have you with 
 us tlian anywhere else, esiieeially so tar away as you now are; 
 hut, as 3'ou assert most positi\ ely that this is the last time you 
 will ever visit ICurope, do make the best of it. I want you to 
 see and know as much as you can from your own observation 
 about the Old World. I was sorry you made that vow before 
 you took me on to see the marvelous wonders, beauties, and 
 curiosities to be met with in that distant region. IJut if my kind 
 heavenly Father ^vill vouchsafe a sure and favorable rctiu-n for 
 you, I will be perfectly satislietl w illi the measure of his good- 
 ness allotted to me. 
 
 Fanny is still impro\ing, though still too weak to sit up long 
 at a time. 1 am better too. All well now but Fanny Lamar, 
 who has had fever for a couple of days. She is up, and taking 
 quinine to-day. 
 
 Lucius has been preparing a speech for several days to deliv- 
 er at the Junction to-morrow at a great Brecken ridge and Lane 
 mass-meeting; but, to our surprise, told us this morning that he 
 w\is going to his plantation to return to-night, and that he would 
 not i;o to t/ir Junction. Why, he tUd not state. 
 
 There was a very excellent farmer here yesterday who pro- 
 poses to buy out the one-half of Lucius's part of the land at six 
 dollars an acre, and t/icy txvo should buy out your part, this 
 man to oversee the place and attend to Lucins's little ne- 
 groes. They arc to be joint owners of every thing except the 
 negroes. I don't know whether they will pu"t in an equal num- 
 ber of hands or not. Henry said he thought it would be a very 
 
 good arrangement for Lucius. I dont know how L regards 
 
 it himself. He says this man is kno\vn to be a fine farmer. I 
 can't remember his name. Miller can't be induced to stay any 
 longer, as he wishes to give up overseeing and turn doctor. 
 
 Farewell. Heaven bless and bring you back safely to your 
 devoted wife. F. E. L. 
 
 GOV. JOSEPH E. BROWN TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Executive Department, 
 
 MiLLEDGEViLLE, Ga., January 26, 1861. 
 
 My Dear Sir : On my return to the capital yesterday from 
 
 Augusta, I found your note of the 17th inst.; and in reply, I 
 
 have the honor to state that it is my earnest desire, if it can be 
 
204 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 done consistently with the honor and safety of the South, to 
 avoid a hostile meeting between the forces of the Federal Gov- 
 ernment and the forces or citizens of our section: and, to the 
 extent of my power or influence, I shall labor to prevent the 
 shedding of blood, unless we shall be driven to that dire neces- 
 sity purely in self-defense. In all my communications with the 
 authorities or citizens of our sister States, I have endeavored to 
 impress them with a sense of the propi-iety of such a course. 
 If blood must come out of this contest, I am determined, so far 
 as I am concerned, that blame shall rest upon our aggressors, 
 and not upon our people. Georgia will not, and I trust no 
 Southern State will, place herself in the wrong, let come what 
 will. And I entertain the hope that the South will not, at least 
 before the 4th of March, be driven to the necessity of defending 
 her rights and her honor by force of arms on her own soil. 
 
 Thanking you for your suggestions, believe me very sincere- 
 ly your obedient servant, Joseph E. Brown. 
 
 Hon. a. B. Longstreet, Columbia, S. C. 
 
 SALEM DUTCH ER TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Montgomery, Ala., March 6, 1867. 
 Hon. A. B. Longstreet.^ Oxford., Miss. — .S"/>.* In a copv of the 
 Macon (Ga.) Telegraph of the 3d inst., seen hy chance this morn- 
 ing, appeared a letter signed "Vim," and dated '' Saltillo, Lee 
 County, Miss., February 23, 1867," from which the inclosed clip- 
 ping was made. It is pleasant, sir, to note the statements of this 
 excerpt; and I write as a citizen, though not a native, of Geor- 
 gia to express the gratification wherewith those statements have 
 fallen under my eye. Since August, 1864, I have been a resi- 
 dent of Augusta, in which city I edited the Constitutionalist for 
 some eighteen months immediately subsequent to the unfortu- 
 nate close of the war, and in that scene of your early labors of 
 course heard much that gave a new interest to productions read 
 and admired years before. On retiring from the editorship of 
 the Constitutionalist, my first leisure was devoted to the prepara- 
 tion of a lecture on " The Wits of Georgia," using the word 
 "wit" in the old Addisonian sense to include those lighter im- 
 aginative talents, which was delivered first in Augusta and after- 
 ward in Savannah, though of late professional business has for- 
 bidden a further repetition. In the preparation, however, of 
 this lecture it became necessary to read, with a critical attention, 
 w^orks previously read for mere amusement; and, as we love 
 that whereon we have labored, the humor and humorists of 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 205 
 
 Georgia have con,e, as it were, to have a very special interest in 
 ■"-Vlfh^this nruch, t.--eio.;c, i.Y^^T.ana^on (iH^^^^^^^^^ 
 letter, I desire to say it would give me piea.u ^^ Scenes." 
 
 views in the disposa of ^^e cop^aight of ^e^e^is^ 
 
 Among my clients as ^l^^^^^^^^ gow^^posinTto extend ttei'r 
 interested in Southern woi U, and now pp ^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^ 
 
 operations in this dn-^ction ^J ^^^^^^^ J^^^^^ ^^ ^^.^^Id 
 
 personally qmte well acquainted and^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ I 
 
 be happy to P^«P°^^^ >^'f^ Vttettion If consonant with your 
 
 present the matter to ^i- j^"^"^'°"\g ^^^ 
 
 -^ liSr^ittrpppt f , hi^£i tha I jna. - ah. to 
 
 ;ifL°:rHrn,e\*:,?re;s^gt^ 
 
 acquaintance with yourbclt, i am, w S ^^^^ Dutcher. 
 
 yours. 
 
 i?^5£7er ^. CAMPBELL TO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 London, November i6, i860. 
 7.^ n..,' 9/r • Your valued favor of the 20th ult, with its in- 
 
 in my power to serve him. 
 
2o6 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 In relation to " Manchester" being inserted in the Times, jou 
 will see bv the number I send jou by this steamer that they 
 never publish anonymous articles. To give my name would be 
 untrue. I have marked in the Times of yesterday its first lead- 
 er, and a part of a speech of Lord Palmerston's at a dinner, to 
 each of which I would draw your particular attention. The 
 leader contains no eulogy on the South; assumes the election 
 of Lincoln; that the South has had a deserved defeat; attacks 
 her for the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, invasion of 
 Kansas, the fugitive slave law; the Dred-Scott decision stigma- 
 tized as extra-judicial, and given by a partisan judge; and the 
 countenance given to the attack upon Sumner. 
 
 You request me to ascertain whether Great Britain will rec- 
 ognize the independence of South Carolina, and open commer- 
 cial relations with her immediately upon her secession. The 
 fulfillment of this request is a mere impossibility. The Times, 
 you will perceive, looks upon secession as an idle threat, intend- 
 ed only to operate vipon the presidential election. The depres- 
 sion of stocks at the North is viewed in the same light, and the 
 conviction here is that they will favorably react as soon as the 
 election is declared. Statesmen, politicians, merchants, bankers 
 here entertain the same opinion; and, so far as I know, no 
 American in London except myself thinks the South in earnest. 
 You must recollect that I am the only Southern man residing 
 in London, which may account for the universality of opinion 
 among our countrymen. Under this existing opinion you will 
 at once perceive that no Governor or statesman can be commit- 
 ted to any particular action on a contingency which he does not 
 believe will arise. To do so would stultify himself, and subject 
 him to the charge of a vain attempt to effect the dissolution of 
 the l^nion. You and all others who have observed the action 
 of this government know that its policy is that of non-interven- 
 tion ; that it recognizes all governments de facto a?, soon as there 
 is a reasonable probability of its being able to maintain itself; 
 and as for commerce and trade, you are well aware that these 
 are primary considerations with all Englishmen, and I should 
 think it preposterous to presume that the South would.be treat- 
 ed in a manner different from all other governments. It is my 
 duty, however, to say to you that there does not exist in the 
 English heart the slightest sympathy with slavery. Whether 
 that heart be in the breast of the highest or the lowest, the in- 
 stitution is tolerated as an exceptional one that cannot be re- 
 moved instanter ; but no Englishman believes in its perpetuity, 
 or will do an act to contribute to such a result per se. Not that 
 I believe they could be induced to join in an armed crusade 
 
SOME OLD LETTERS. 207 
 
 against slavery, bvit thcj would certainly give the moral influ- 
 ence of public opinion against it. 
 
 The reception of the Prince of Wales in the United States has 
 produced here a most extraordinary effect. It has allayed all 
 jealousy for the time. The observations of Lord Palmerston, 
 which I have marked, is a tame expression of feeling in com- 
 parison with many others. We are now viewed as a great cog- 
 nate nation of brothers without faults, except such as are com- 
 mon to both countries, as worthy above all other nations of 
 English respect and of English love. 
 
 Yours most truly, Robert B. Campbell. 
 
 Hon. a. B. Longstreet, Columbia, S. C. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 It should have been noted at the proper place 
 that Judge Longstreet was a delegate to the Con- 
 vention held in Louisville, Ky., in 1844, at which 
 the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was or- 
 ganized, and made an able and exhaustive legal 
 argument on the questions involved in the separa- 
 tion of the Methodist Episcopal Church into two 
 co-equal parts. It was an' accidental omission, but 
 perhaps it is well enough to spare the reader the 
 rehearsal of the oft-told story or that eventful time. 
 The wheat has been threshed out of this historical 
 straw. Let the old trouble rest. Our forefathers 
 bequeathed to us a long quarrel and a cruel war. 
 Let us bequeath to those who will come after us 
 everlasting peace. There be those on either side 
 who love to fight over the old battle, but the maker 
 of this book is of a different mind. 
 (208) 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 GEORGIA SCENES, NEW AND OLD. 
 
 14 (209) 
 
Like a hungiy boy at a dinner-table, eager for 
 the dessert, many readers will feel like reading this 
 ** Appendix" first, and then taking their time for 
 the rest of the book. So be it. The author is sure 
 he would feel the same way about it. O. P. F. 
 (210) 
 
DARBY ANVIL. 
 
 (never before published.) 
 
 I WELL remember the first man who, without any 
 quahfications for the place, was elected to the 
 Legislature of Georgia. He was a blacksmith by 
 trade, and Darby Anvil was his name. I would 
 not be understood as saying that none had preced- 
 ed him but men of profound wisdom or even not- 
 able talents (at the time of which I am speaking 
 such men were not to be found in every county of 
 the State), but that none had been deputed to that 
 body who were not vastly superior to Anvil in ev- 
 ery moral and intellectual quality. 
 
 Darby came hither just at the close of the Rev- 
 olutionary War; and, if his own report of himself 
 is to be believed, ''•hejit'' in that memorable strug- 
 gle. True, he never distinctly stated on which 
 side '* he fit;" but as he spoke freely of the inci- 
 dents of the revolution, and at a time when Tories 
 were very scarce and very mute, it was taken for 
 granted that he fought on the right side. 
 
 Darby estabHshed himself upon a lot in the then 
 
 village of , which cost him nothing ; for in his 
 
 day town lots, and even large tracts of land, were 
 granted to any one who woul4 occupy them for a 
 given time. Two log huts soon rose upon Darby's 
 lot, into one of which he stowed his wife and chil- 
 dren, and in the other his blacksmith's tools. He 
 
 (211) 
 
212 JUDGE LONGSTREE. 
 
 now plied his trade assiduously; and as all trades 
 flourished at that time, he grew rich apace. A 
 year had hardly rolled away before a snug frame 
 house rose in front of his log dwelling, and his 
 shop gave place to one of more taste and conven- 
 ience from the hands of a carpenter. The brand 
 of horse-shoes upon the shop-door no longer served 
 Darby for a sign ; but high over the entrance of 
 the smithery, from a piece of iron-work of crooks 
 and convolutions unutterable, hung a flaming sign- 
 board, decorated on either side with appropriate 
 designs. On one side was Darby in person, shoe- 
 ing Gen. Washington's horse. I say it was Wash- 
 ington' s horse because Darby said so, and Billy 
 Spikes, who painted it, said so. Certainl}^, it was 
 large enough for Washington's horse; for, taking 
 Darby, whose height I knew, for a guage, the horse 
 could not have been less than five and twenty feet 
 high. On the other side was a plows with handles 
 nine feet long (by the same measure), studded 
 with hoes and axes, staples and horse-shoes. 
 
 Every thing around Darby bore the aspect of 
 thrift and comfort — in short, his fortune increased 
 even faster than his children ; and this is no 
 small compliment to his industry and economy, for 
 Mrs. Anvil had not for many years suffered eight- 
 een months to pass without reminding him, with 
 a blush through a smirk, that she would " soon 
 want a little sugar and coffee and sweetened dram 
 for the little stranger .^^ Darby had just received 
 the tenth notice of this kind when he resolved to 
 turn politician. Whether the notices had any in- 
 fluence upon him in forming this rash resolution, 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 213 
 
 I am not prepared to say; but certain it is that he 
 had received them, for several years preceding, 
 with a rapidly declining interest, insomuch that, 
 when the last came, it gave to his countenance an 
 expression better suited to dyspepsia than to such 
 joyous tidings ; and he was proceeding to make a 
 most uncourteous response, when the kindling lire 
 of his lady's eye brought him to an anticlimax of 
 passive gentility. 
 
 '* Why, Nancy," said he, '* Lord 'a' massy on my 
 soul I I don't grudge you the rum and coffee and 
 sugar, but r'aly it does seem to me — that — we're 
 havin' a powerful chance o' childern somehow or 
 nother." 
 
 I am digressing a little, but I cannot resume my 
 subject without doing Mrs. Anvil the justice to say 
 that she defended her dignity with becoming spir- 
 it, and by a short but pungent syllogism taught 
 Darby that he had more cause for self-condemna- 
 tion than for gTudgtngs or astonishment. 
 
 Darby Anvil, though ignorant in the extreme, 
 had some shrewdness and much low cunning. He 
 knew well the prejudices and weaknesses of the 
 common people of the country, and had no little 
 tact in turning them to his own advantage. 
 
 Two attorneys of eminence who had repeatedly 
 served the State in her deliberative assemblies dur- 
 ing and after the war were candidates for the pop- 
 ular branch of the Legislature when Darby 
 determined to make a third and supernumerary 
 candidate. He announced his aims in the only 
 way in which he could have announced them with- 
 out exposing himself to overwhelming ridicule ; for 
 
214 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 the people of those days pretty generally harbored 
 the superstitious notion that talents were indispen- 
 sable to wholesome legislation. 
 
 There was a great barbecue in the county. It 
 was the wager of a hunting watch, and conse- 
 quently everybody was invited and ever3^body at- 
 tended. During the festival, when Darby and ten 
 or twelve of his own class were collected round the 
 bottle, '*Boys," said he, "how 'bout the 'lection 
 this year? " 
 
 '* O," says one, ** there's no opposition." 
 
 *' No opposition!" cried Darby, " by zounds, 
 that'll never do. We'll have no fun. I'll be ding'd 
 if I don't offer myself if I can't git a smarter man 
 to offer, rather than have no fun at all. What do 
 you say. Bill Rucker? Won't you go in for the 
 old blacksmith ag'inst the lawyers?" smiling and 
 winking to the by-standers. 
 
 '* O yes," said Bill carelessly, " I'll go in for you 
 to a red heat." 
 
 *'Well, thar's one vote for the old blacksmith, 
 anyhow." 
 
 "Johnny, you'll stick to Uncle Darby ag'n the 
 lawyers, I know; won't you, Johnny?" 
 
 "Yes," said Johnn}^ Fields, "I'll stick to you 
 like grim death to a dead nigger." 
 
 " Jimmy Johns '11 go— O no! I've no chance of 
 Jimmy's vote; bein' as how he's a mighty takin' to 
 lawyers since his brother Bob's case was tryn. 
 How 'bout that, Jimmy?" with a dr}^ equivocal 
 laugh . 
 
 "Blast their infernal souls!" said Jim, "I'd 
 vote for the devil 'fore I'd vote for either of 'em. 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 215 
 
 They made out my evidence was nothin' 't all but 
 swearin' lies for brother Bob from one eend to 
 tother." 
 
 '' Well, Jimmy," pursued Darby, *' you mustn't 
 mind Uncle Darby's laughin',my son, I can't help 
 laughin' every time I think how mad you was when 
 you come to my shop that day ; but you know I told 
 you you'd git over it and vote for the 'squires at 
 last, didn't I?" 
 
 *' Yes, and you told a lie too ; didn't you, Uncle 
 Darby?" 
 
 Here Darby roared immoderately and then be- 
 coming suddenly very grave, he proceeded: "But 
 boys, puttin' all jokin' away, it's wrong, mighty 
 wrong, for anybody to be puttin' upon anybody's 
 charr/^ter after that sort, I don't care who they is. 
 And if I was in the Legislater the fust thing I'd 
 do would be to stop it." 
 
 '* Well, Uncle Darby, wh}' don't you offer?" 
 said Johns, "I'll go for you, and there's plenty 
 more'll go for you if you'll come out." 
 
 " Yes, that there is," said Job Snatch (another 
 sufferer in court), "I'll go for you." 
 
 "And so will I," said Seth Weed. 
 
 " Why, boys," interrupted Darby, " if you don't 
 hush, you'll make me come out sure enough. And 
 what would I do in the 'sembly? " 
 
 "I'll tell you what you'd do," said Sam Flat 
 crustily, " you'd set up in one corner of the room 
 like poor folks at a frolic and never open your 
 mouth. And I'll tell you another thing — my opin- 
 ion is, you want to offer, too; and you're only 
 fishin' for an excuse to do it now.'* 
 
2l6 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 Darby burst into a loud laugh; but there was 
 enough chagrin mingled with it to show plainly that 
 he felt the truth of Sam's remark. It was near a 
 minute before he could reply: ** O no, Sammy, 
 I've no notion of offerin', unless it mout be just to 
 have a little fun. And if I was to offer what harm 
 would it do? I couldn't be 'lected; andif I wasn't, 
 I wouldn't care, for it wouldn't be no disgrace for 
 a poor blacksmith to be beat by the great folks 
 that's beat everybody." 
 
 " Well," said Jimmy Johns, *' may I say you's 
 a cand'date? " 
 
 *' Jimmy, you is a free man and has a right to 
 say what you please." 
 
 "And I'm a free man, and I'll say what I please 
 too," said Job Snatch. 
 
 '*And so am I," said Seth Weed. 
 
 ''Why, what's got into these boys?" chuckled 
 out Darby, '' I b'lieve they're gwine to make me a 
 a cand'date whether I will or no. I didn't know I 
 had so much pop'larity. Let me git away from 
 here or I'll be made a great man in spite of myself. 
 But I must take a drink before I go. Come boys, 
 le's take a drink, and I'll give you a toast: 
 
 "Here's wishin' that honest men who's 'bHge to go to court to 
 
 swear 
 Mav not be 'lowed to be made game of bv lawyers of the 
 " bare." 
 
 This sentiment, like many electioneering ha- 
 rangues of equal merit in the present day, was re- 
 ceived ''with unbounded applause; " and amidst 
 laughter and entreaties for a repetition of the toast 
 Darby hastened away to a small party of marks- 
 
DARBY ANVIL. 
 
 217 
 
 men who had made up a match and were trying 
 their skill apart from the throng. To these he 
 made himself obsequious, while his friends spread 
 the news of his candidacy. It soon pervaded the 
 whole assembly, and many went to him to know 
 the truth of the report. His answers to such were 
 regulated by the tone and manner with which they 
 put their questions. If they exhibited no astonish- 
 ment, he told them that " he had tried to git off, but 
 his friends kept plaguin' him so to offer that he was 
 'bliged to give up or make 'em all mad; and there- 
 fore, he told 'em they mout do as they pleased." 
 If the inquirer exhibited signs of wonder and in- 
 credulity. Darby gave him an affirmative with all the 
 tokens of irony. Amongst the rest came Smith and 
 Jones, the two candidates. They happened to meet 
 him just as he was returning to the crowd from the 
 shooting-match and when no person was with him. 
 
 *' Darby," inquired Smith, *' is it possible that 
 you are a candidate for the Legislature?" 
 
 '* Why not? " returned Anvil, with a blush. 
 
 *' Why, you are utterly unqualified ; you will dis- 
 grace yourself." 
 
 "I know," rejoined Anvil, "that Pd make a 
 mighty poor out of speakin' ag'in lawyers, but I 
 reckon as how I could vote as good as them." 
 
 *' You are mistaken. Darby," said Jones; '* it re- 
 quires a better head to vote right than to speak 
 well. The business of law-making is a very deli- 
 cate business, which should be managed with the 
 nicest care, especially in this country. It is true 
 that it has been much simplified in the several 
 States by our admirable form of government. A 
 
2l8 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 vast variety of subjects, and those too which the 
 people at large are generally best acquainted with, 
 have been withdrawn from the State Legislature. 
 But still the States are sovereign, and possess all 
 power not specially delegated to the general gov- 
 ernment — " 
 
 ''You should have said," interrupted Smith, 
 ''that the State legislation has been dimimshcd 
 rather than that it has been sunflified. In truth, 
 it has been rendered more intricate by our novel 
 form of government. In other countries the law- 
 giver has only to study the interests of the people 
 and legislate accordingly; but here, in addition to 
 the ordinary duties of a legislator, he has others of 
 infinite difficulty and infinite importance to dis- 
 charge. He is one of the guardians of a State 
 which is both sovereign and subject — sovereign by 
 Constitution, subject by concession. He must con- 
 sider well, therefore, the powers which she has 
 ceded, and yield implicit obedience to them; he 
 must study well the powers which she has reserved, 
 and fearlessly maintain them. An error on the one 
 hand is a step toward anarchy; an error on the 
 other is a step toward slavery — " 
 
 "Why," interrupted Darby, "I don't under- 
 stand head nor tail of all this sarincnty 
 
 "I was not addressing myself to you," said 
 Smith, '* though I confess that what I was saying 
 was meant for your improvement. I was in hopes 
 you would understand enough of it to discover 
 your unfitness for the Legislature." 
 
 "1 think," said Jones, " I can convince Darby 
 of that in a more intelligent way." 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 219 
 
 " Darby, what does a man go to the Legislature 
 for?" 
 
 ** Why, to make laws," said Darby. 
 
 '*True; and to amend such as have been made. 
 Now, do you know what laws have been made?" 
 
 ''No." 
 
 " Do you know how those have operated which 
 have been made? " 
 
 *' Operated?'' 
 
 " I mean do you know whether they have proved 
 good or bad? " 
 
 "No, I tell you; I don't know nothin' 't all 
 about 'em." 
 
 " Well, now suppose a man should come to your 
 shop and offer to work for you a month — at plow- 
 making we will suppose — -and when you asked him 
 if he understood making such plows as are used in 
 Georgia he should reply that he knew nothing at 
 all about plows, his whole life had been spent in 
 shoe-making ; but that if you would lay two plows 
 before him he could tell you which he thought best ; 
 and that whenever you wanted his opinion or vote 
 upon shop matters he could give it as good as any 
 one. What would 3^ou think of him? " 
 
 "Then, 'cordin' to your chat, nobody ought to 
 go to 'sembly but lawyers," said Darby. 
 
 " I do not say so; but that no one should go 
 there who has not some little knowledge of the bus- 
 iness which he has to do. If he possess this knowl- 
 edge, it matters not whether he be lawyer, farmer, 
 merchant, or mechanic." 
 
 By this time quite a crowd, mostly unlettered 
 persons, had collected round the candidates, and 
 
220 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 though it was impossible for Darby to hide his 
 chagrin while he and his companions were alone, 
 it became less and less visible with every accession 
 to the group, so that by the time Mr. Jones con- 
 cluded his remarks it was entirely dissipated, and 
 Darby stood before the company decidedly the 
 most self-confident of the three. 
 
 *' Well," said he, planting himself astraddle and 
 placing his arms akimbo, " now I've heard you all 
 through, let me see how the old blacksmith can ar- 
 gify with two lawyers at a time. I know I'm noth- 
 in' but a poor, ign'ant blacksmith that don't know 
 nothin' nohow; and furthermore, I don't think 
 nobody ought to go to the 'sembly but lawyers 
 nether, bein' as how they're the smartest people in 
 the world. But howsomedever, that's n'ither here 
 nor thar. Now, Mr. Smith, you say I'd disgrace 
 myself to go to the 'sembly, and I reckon it's so, 
 for I'm like my neighbors here, hard-workin' peo- 
 ple, who ha'n't got no business doin' nothin' but 
 workin' for great folks and rich folks, nohow. 
 But howsomedever, that's n'ither here nor thar, as 
 the fellow said. Now, I want to ax you a few 
 questions, and you mus'n't git mad with me, for I 
 only want to git a little I'arnin'. And firstly of the 
 first place, to begin at the beginnin', as the fellow 
 said, an't a poor man as free as a rich man?" 
 winking, with a smirk, to the approving by-stand- 
 ers. 
 
 '* Certainly," said Smith. 
 
 *'And didn't they fight for libity as well as rich 
 ones." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
DARBY ANVIL. 221 
 
 c< Well— hem! — an't they as honest as rich 
 men?" 
 
 *'No doubt of it." 
 
 '*Well, if a poor man is as free as a rich man 
 (now you mus 'n 't git mad with me), and they fit for 
 libity as well as them, and is as honest, how comes 
 it that some people that's the smartest in the world 
 votes for nobody havin' votes but them that's got 
 land? " Here several of the by-standers who had 
 been interchanging winks and smiles in token that 
 they foresaw the dilemma into which Darby was 
 leading his antagonist, burst into a loud laugh. 
 ''Now, an't he the devil? " whispered one. 
 '* I tell you what it is," said a second, ''the law- 
 yers an't gwine to git nothin' out o' him." 
 
 "Mighty smart man," said a third, gravely, 
 " powerful smart for his opportunities." 
 
 "I advocated freehold suffrage," returned 
 Smith, " in the convention that framed the Consti- 
 tution, not because I thought the rich man entitled 
 to higher privileges than the poor man, but because 
 I thought him less exposed to temptation. Indeed, 
 my proposition made no distinction between the 
 poor and the rich, for there is not a farmer in the 
 State who has not more land than would have en- 
 titled him to a vote under it. But I apprehend the 
 time will come when our State will be inundated 
 with strangers and sojourners amongst us— mere 
 floating adventurers — who have no common mter- 
 est, feehng, or sympathy with us, who will prosti- 
 tute the right of suffrage to private gain, and set up 
 their votes to the highest bidder. I would, there- 
 fore, have confined this right to those who have a 
 
222 yiiHii-: L()X(;s'rAv:ET. 
 
 {\xcd and pcrnuinont interest in the State, wlio nnist 
 share the honors or sutler the penalties ot wise or 
 corrupt legislation." 
 
 "If Smith is to be blamed," said Jones, *' for 
 his course in the convention, so am I. I differed 
 from him, to be sure, in )}icasnri\ but agreed with 
 him in pn')iciplc. I would have had a small prop- 
 erty qualiiication without conlining it to laud^ but 
 his answer to this was decisive. If the amount of 
 property required were large, it would disqualify 
 many honest voters who are permanent residents 
 of the State ; if it were small ^ every stranger wlio 
 brought with him money enough to bear his trav- 
 eling expenses would be qualified to vote. But we 
 were both overruled." 
 
 '* Gentlemen," said Darby, **you talk too much 
 dictionary for me; I wasn't raised to mucli book 
 larnin' nor dictionar}- larnin'. But, howsomedever, 
 I think, 'Squire Smith, you said anybody that 
 didn't own land would sell their votes to the high- 
 est bidder; and I reckon it's so, for you great 
 folks knows more than me ; but * the proof of the 
 puddin's in chawin' the bag,' as the fellow said, 
 therefore let's see how the thing '11 work, jimmy 
 Johns, you don't own no land, and, therefore, 
 'cordin' to the 'Squire's narration, you'll sell your 
 vote to the highest bidder. What'll you take for 
 it?" 
 
 ** Nobody better not tell me," said Jim, 'Mhat 
 I'll sell my vote, or I'll be dad seized if I don't 
 fling a handful o' fingers right in his face in short 
 mctchcr, I don't care who he is." 
 
 ** I did not say," resumed Smith, " that any man 
 
DAIiBT ANVIL, 223 
 
 now in the State would sell his vote, nor do I be- 
 lieve that any true Georgian^ by birth or adoption, 
 ever will; but the time will come when idle, worth- 
 less vagabonds will come amongst us, who will sell 
 their votes for a pint of rum if they can get no 
 more." 
 
 '' Well, 'Squire, now it seems to me — but I don't 
 know, but it seems to me — somehow or 'nother 
 that it'll be time enough to have land votin' when 
 that time comes, and not to begin upon poor folks 
 nozv to stop mean folks when we are all dead and 
 gone. Them folks, I recken, can take care o' 
 themselves." 
 
 '*Then it will be too late," interposed Jones. 
 " Men who have a marketable article will never 
 give it away, or allow it to be taken from them. 
 Should they be willing to renounce it, there will be 
 factious demagogues enough to prevent them from 
 so doing. No, Darby, if you would estabUsh a 
 good government, you must do it at its organi- 
 zation ; thenceforward there is a ceaseless war be- 
 tween the governors and the governed. The rulers 
 are ever usurping the rights of the people, or the 
 people are ever resuming the rights of the " — 
 
 "Stop a little thar," interrupted Darby; ''you 
 say thar's a war 'tween the Governor and the gov- 
 'ment. Now, what's the reason I never hearn of 
 that war? I've hearn of the old French War and 
 the Revolution War and the Injun War, but I never 
 hearn of that war before." 
 
 *' I don't say," continued Jones, impatiently, 
 '* that there is a war, a fight " — 
 
 '' O, well, if you take that back, why we'll start 
 
2 24 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ag'in. But, howsomedever, when I'm gwine to a 
 place I always try to take the right road at first, 
 and then thar's no 'casion for turnin' back." 
 
 "Well, Darby," said Jones, *'you are certainly 
 a bigger fool than I took you to be, and that is not 
 your worst fault." 
 
 "Well, now, you see," said Darby (bristling), 
 "that kind o' chat an't gwine to do for me, no- 
 how; and you must take it back quick as you did 
 the war, or I'll make the fur fly to the tother 
 sorts." 
 
 " Yes, I'll be dad seized if I didn't," said Jim- 
 my Johns, becoming furious; " talkin's talkin', 
 but callin' a man the /ool's no sort of chat." 
 
 "Uncle Darby," said John Fields, "you gwine 
 to swallow that? If you do, you needn't count on 
 John Fields' s vote." 
 
 " No, I'm not," countinued Darby, touching his 
 coat. " Gentlemen, I didn't go to 'Squire Jones; 
 he came to me and brought on the fuss, and I 
 don't think I'm to blame. My chavricter is as 
 good to me as his'n to him; and, gentlemen, I'm a 
 plain, hard-workin' man, but I'll be burned if I 
 can bear every thing." 
 
 " Strip yourself. Darby," said Snatch, flinging 
 off his coat as if it were full of nettles, and pour- 
 ing forth a volley of oaths without order or con- 
 nection; "strip yourself; you sha'n't be imposed 
 on; I'll see you out." 
 
 "O well, now," said John Reynolds (the bully 
 of the county), coolly, "if thar's to be any fur 
 flyin' here, I must have a little of the pullin' of it. 
 And, Darby, you're not goin' to knock the 'Squire 
 
DARB2' ANVIL. 225 
 
 till you walk over me to do it. He's holpt my wife 
 and children too often when they've been sick for 
 me to stand by and see him imposed on, right or 
 wrong; that's the racket." 
 
 "Well, Johnny," said Darby (re-adjusting his 
 coat), " I always liked the 'Squire myself, and al- 
 ways voted for him — don't you know I did, John- 
 ny? — but then you know yourself that it's mighty 
 hard for a man to be called a fool to his face, now 
 an't it, Johnny?" 
 
 *' Why, it's a thing that don't go down easy, I 
 know, but then look at tother side a little. Now 
 you made out the 'Squire eat his words about the 
 war, and that's mighty hard to swallow too. Now 
 he told you he didn't mean they fit, and you know 
 anybody's liable to make mistakes anyhow; and 
 you kept makin' out that he had to back out from 
 what he said, and " — 
 
 "Yes, Darby," said Jimmy Johns, "that's a 
 fact, Johnny's right. You brushed the 'Squire a 
 little too close there. Darby, and I can't blame him 
 for gittin' mad. I'll stick by you when you're on 
 the right side, but I can't go with you there. I 
 couldn't ha' stood it myself." 
 
 "Yes, Darby,'* said Fields, "you must confess 
 yourself that you begun it, and, therefore, you 
 oughn't to got mad. That was wrong, Darby, 
 and I can't go with you them lengths." 
 
 " How was it?" said Snatch, as if he were not 
 at the beginning of the affray. " How was it? " 
 
 "Why," said Johns, "Darby made out the 
 'Squire eat his words, and then the 'Squire called 
 Darby a fool." 
 15 
 
2 26 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 O, chiichl" said Snatch, "was that the way of 
 it? Darby's wrong. If I'd o' knowed that, I 
 wouldn't 'a' opened my mouth." 
 
 "Well," said Darby, "I believe I was wrong 
 there, Johnny; and if my friends say so, I know 
 I was. And, therefore, I am willin' to drop it. I 
 always looked upon the 'Squire as a mighty good, 
 kind-hearted man." 
 
 "O yes!" exclaimed three or four at once, 
 "drop it." 
 
 " I was just waitin' to see a row," said Sam 
 Flat (bully number two), "and I'd 'a' kept up all 
 sorts o' rollin' and tumblin' over this barbecue 
 ground before I'd 'a' seen the 'Squire hurt." 
 
 " O, but Sammy," said Johns, Fields, and 
 Snatch eagerly and in one voice, "its all over 
 now. Drop it; we all see Darby was wrong." 
 
 " O yes," said John White, reeling under a pint 
 of rum, "drop it; it's all got — in a wrong — fix 
 — by not knowin' — nothin' 'bout it. I heard it 
 every bit. 'Squire did'nt say what Darby said — 
 and Darby — didn't say what 'Squire said — and 
 none of you didn't say what all of you said — and 
 that's the way — you all got to quar'lin' an' fightin'. 
 We're all friends — le's go 'n' take a drink — which 
 whipped? " 
 
 Before White concluded this very luminous and 
 satisfactory explanation the attorneys and their 
 friends had retired, and Darby proceeded: " Gen- 
 tlemen, when I fust talked 'bout bein' a cand'date, 
 I had no notion o' bein' one. I jest said it in fun, 
 as all the boys here knows. But now, you see, 
 sence they go to puttin' on me after this sort, I'll 
 
DARE 7' ANVIL. 227 
 
 be blamed if I don't be a cand'date, even if I git 
 beat. This is a free country, in which every man 
 has a right to do as he pleases, and 'cordin' to their 
 chat nobody ha' n't got no right to be cand' dates 
 but lawyers. If that's the chat, I don't know what 
 our Rev'lution was for, and I tit in it too. Gentle- 
 men, you see how I've been persecuted." 
 
 Darby's resolution was applauded by some, and 
 his insulted dignity soothed by others. He now 
 surrendered himself unreservedly to electioneering. 
 His first object was to secure the favor of John 
 Reynolds, for the bully of a county was then (as 
 he still is, though lessened much in importance) a 
 very desirable auxiliary in a canvass. This was 
 easily effected by a little kindness and a little hy- 
 pocrisy, and Darby wanted neither when his in- 
 terest was at stake. He soon persuaded John that 
 all he had said to Mr. Jones was a joke, or (what 
 was the same thing to John) an error in Darby; 
 and as the bully of the county is too much occu- 
 pied in seeking glory to attend much to his trade 
 or his farm, and is therefore constantly in need of 
 some little assistance from his more industrious 
 neighbors. Darby had opportunities enough of con- 
 ciliating John by kind offices. These he improved 
 so handsomely that John was soon won by grati- 
 tude, and came out his open supporter. 
 
 Marvelous was now the '* change " which " came 
 over the spirit of Darby's dream." His shop was 
 committed to the entire management of Sambo and 
 Cuffy, and his '* little strangers" to Nancy. He 
 rode night and day, attended every gathering in 
 the county, treated liberally, aped dignity here, 
 
228 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 cracked obscene jokes there, sung vulgar songs in 
 one place, talked gravely in another, told long, dry 
 stories, gave short, mean toasts, jested with the 
 women, and played with the children, grew Hberal 
 in suretyships, paid promptly, and dunned nobody, 
 and asked everybody to vote for him. 
 
 By these means Darby's popularity increased 
 wonderfully. Three months lay between the bar- 
 becue and the election, and before the expiration 
 of the first the wise began to fear and the foolish to 
 boast that Darby Anvil would be elected. Anoth- 
 er month placed the matter beyond dispute, and 
 left to either of the other candidates the alternative 
 of making common cause with Darby or staying at 
 home. The temptation was too strong for Smith's 
 integrity. He formed a secret alliance with Dar- 
 by. It was effected with great care and much 
 cunning, but it was soon exposed by his conduct 
 and its results. It was the first instance of such 
 self-abasement that I ever witnessed in Georgia 
 (would that it had been the last!), and it was re- 
 ceived with becoming indignation by the virtuous 
 and intelligent of the country. They took the field, 
 almost to a man, in behalf of Jones, and but for his 
 magnanimity they would have succeeded at last in 
 giving Smith the just reward of his treachery. But 
 Jones implored them by their regard for the future 
 welfare of the State to level all their forces against 
 Anvil and not against Smith. *' If Smith," said 
 he, '* is returned to the Legislature, he will serve you 
 with profit, if not with honor; but if Darby be 
 elected, he will be worthless as a member and ruin- 
 ous as an example. Encouraged by his success, 
 
DAKB7' ANVIL. 229 
 
 hundreds of stupid asses like himself will make their 
 way into the General Assembly; and the conse- 
 quences will be that our government will become 
 a despotism of fools and a disgrace to republican- 
 ism." By these and many other more forcible ar- 
 guments, which I have not time to repeat, Jones 
 prevailed upon his friends to sacrifice their private 
 prejudices to the pubHc good, and to bend all their 
 exertions to the exclusion of Anvil. They did so, 
 and for a time wonderful were the effects of their 
 efforts. So commanding was their position that 
 even the common people were attracted by it, and 
 many came over to them from the ranks of the 
 coalition. Smith was cowed by the noble bearing 
 of his old friend toward him, and remorse greatly 
 paralyzed his exertions. Darby too grew so much 
 alarmed that he became serious, and by as much 
 as he grew serious by so much did he lose his in- 
 fluence. In short, there is every reason to believe 
 that after all Darby would have been beaten had 
 not a little incident occurred which secured his 
 election in spite of opposition. It was a strange 
 incident to be followed by such an effect. There 
 is an old Scotch song which says: 
 
 Be a lassie e'er so black 
 
 An she hae the name o' siller, 
 
 Set her wpo' Tintock top, 
 
 The wind will blaw a man till her. 
 
 The winds are not more propitious to the siller^ d 
 lassie than unpropitious to the candidate. If ever 
 he has committed a fault, no matter when or where, 
 the wind wdll blow a babbler to him. It was so 
 with Darby, though luifortanate only in a moral, 
 not in a political sense. 
 
230 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 About three weeks before the election a traveler 
 stopped at a public house in the county where sev- 
 eral persons had collected, and amongst the rest was 
 l^our Uncle Nicky Bugg, This was a title which 
 he assumed himself and which was accorded to him 
 by universal consent. The company were all sup- 
 porters of Jones, and their conversation turning 
 upon the approaching election, they denounced 
 Darby Anvil in unmeasured terms. The stranger, 
 probably emboldened by their sentiments, after 
 putting a few questions as to Darby's personal 
 identity, stated that Darby had left Virginia between 
 two days in order to avoid a prosecution for perju- 
 ry. The stranger said he was not himself personr 
 ally acquainted with the facts, but referred to a 
 number of persons in Virginia who would confirm 
 his statement by certificates. The certificates were 
 immediately written for, and to make their effect the 
 more decisive it was resolved by the company that 
 they would notwhisper the important discovery until 
 the certificates arrived. Fortunately for Darby, they 
 did not arrive until the evening before the election. 
 
 At an early hour of the succeeding day Darby 
 made his appearance at the court-house at the head 
 of about thirty men, some in wagons, some on 
 horseback (single and double), and some on foot. 
 They all had their tickets in their hats, with the 
 names of Smith and Anvil written on them in large 
 characters. As they proceeded to the polls they 
 made the village ring with shouts of " Hurrah for 
 Smith!" *' Hurrah for Anvil!" *' Hurrah for the 
 blacksmith and the people's candidate!" Darby 
 had provided a table and a dozen bottles of rum, to 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 23I 
 
 which he led his friends and told them to dnnk 
 freely and vote boldly. He was reminded that it 
 he should be elected he would have to swear that 
 he had not gained his election by treating, can- 
 vassing, etc., to which he rephed that he - could 
 szvaller that oath mighty easy, for he reckoned no- 
 body wa'n't so mean as to vote for him just because 
 
 he treated 'em." . <- 1 
 
 Owing to some misunderstanding of the magis- 
 trates who were to preside at the election, or 
 from some other cause unknown, the polls were not 
 opened until an hour or two after the usual time. 
 The delay was extremely annoying to Darby; tor 
 in the interim his friends paid such profound re- 
 spect to his first injunction above mentioned that 
 several of them were fast becoming hors^ de mt- 
 frap-e, if I may be allowed the expression. At 
 lencnh came the magistrates, however ; and no 
 sooner had they entered the court-yard, where 
 was collected an immense throng, than ' Your Un- 
 cle Nicky" took the topmost step at the door o± the 
 court-house, and demanded the attention ot every 
 gentleman present. The demand had to be re- 
 peated several times before it was heeded, but it 
 finally succeeded in gathering around him every 
 voter on the campus. They were soon reduced 
 to silence, and Bugg commenced reading, in a 
 slow and audible voice, the cruel certihcates. In 
 the meantime Darby, as one very truly observed, 
 - looked powerful bad." He stared like an owl at 
 noonday, and trembled like the shoe of a grist- 
 mill. He changed feet as rapidly as it he had 
 been upon hot embers; and as for his hands, sut- 
 
232 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 fered them to do as they pleased, and they pleased 
 to go through evolutions that no pen can describe. 
 I can only say of them that they seemed to be in 
 frantic search for the mind that had deserted 
 them, for they wandered all over his body and all 
 through his apparel, giving occasional hints to the 
 materialists that the mind may at last be seated 
 where none of them have ever yet placed it. To 
 add, if possible, to Darby's embarrassment, ** Your 
 Uncle Nicky" was one of those men to whom a 
 fight was an accommodation. Darby could not, 
 therefore, with safety, resort to the usual expe- 
 dient in such cases: a quarrel with the author of 
 his mortification. He received a consolation, how- 
 ever, the most grateful that could have been of- 
 fered to his tortured feelings, even before Bugg 
 had disposed of the certificates. It was from the 
 cry of ''Persecution!" which issued from a num- 
 ber of voices, accompanied by other consolatory 
 expressions, which increased as soon as Bugg had 
 concluded. 
 
 "It's too bad!" exclaimed one, "to attack a 
 man so right on the 'lection day to his face, when 
 he ha'n't got no chance o' defendin' himself." 
 
 "Ah, well, now," said a second, " if they go to 
 takin' these in-turns on a fellow they an't gwine 
 to git no good of it, and you'll see it. The clean 
 thing's the clean thing, but this whopping a fel- 
 low up all at once when he's no chance is no sort 
 o' doin's." 
 
 " Walk, ticket!" exclaimed a third (tearing up 
 a ticket on zuhich was y ones'' s name), and come 
 over to the old blacksmith; into my \\dind Jli tier ! 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 
 
 m 
 
 Fair play's a jewel, and that's what I go for in 
 'lectioneering as well as every thing else," 
 
 "Never mind, Darby," added a fourth^ "-you 
 an't dead yet if you are down and kickin'. 
 There's enough here'il stand by you yet. Keep 
 a stiff upper lip, and you'll come through yet." 
 
 "I swear,'* added a fifth, "it's too bad! It's 
 enough to hurt any man's feelin's to be so put 
 upon unbeknoivcns.^^ 
 
 These, and many other expressions of a like 
 kind, so far restored Darby's equanimity that he 
 was able to take the step in his defense as soon as 
 Bugg descended from it. When he mounted the 
 rostrum, his appearance was quite unparliamentar}^ 
 He was dressed in a full suit of mud-colored home- 
 spun, the workmanship of Nancy's own hands 
 from the carding to the weaving. His pantaloons 
 were supported only by his hips, for suspenders 
 were not then worn ; and even with this advantage 
 at the one extremity, they were full five inches too 
 short at the other. They reached his socks only 
 when he stood firm on both legs — that is, when 
 they were suffered to hang in a right line — but as 
 Darby rarely used both limbs at the same time, 
 there was an alternate flashing of naked skin from 
 either hmb of the most agreeable and bewitching 
 novelty. His vest was more uncourteous to his 
 pantaloons than were his socks, for no position of 
 Darby's body could induce it to come within an 
 inch of them. His under garment, however, act- 
 ed as a mediator between them, and gracefully 
 rolled out into the vacant space, seemingly to en- 
 circle the orator with a sash of coarse but clean, 
 
234 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 white sausage. Darby wore no cravat; and from 
 accident or design (the former, I suppose), his 
 shirt-collar was thrown entirely open, leaving ex- 
 posed a most unsightly Adam'' s apple, that gave to 
 his neck the appearance of a little dromedary. 
 Upon his coat Nancy had obviously ^'spread her- 
 self,'' as we say in Georgia. She seemed to have 
 taken the pattern of it from the wings of a horse- 
 fly. From a point about seven inches above the 
 OS coxygis, it debouched to the right and the left, 
 with daring encroachments upon his calves. Two 
 large plano-convex covered buttons marked the 
 salient points of the skirts, and as many (on either 
 skirt, one) their nether limits. The molds of these 
 gorgeous ornaments were cut, by the measure of 
 a half-dollar, from a dried gourd; of course, there- 
 fore, it was in the covering that they took the shape 
 which I have given to them. Five buttons more 
 (ejusdem geiiei'is) stood in open order upon each 
 lapel; and from every button advanced, in marvel- 
 ous length, a button-hole w^orked with *' indigo 
 blue," so that they looked Hke two little detach- 
 ments of artillery drawn up in battle array against 
 each other. Coarse, sharp-pointed shoes and a 
 low-crowned, broad-brimmed white hat completed 
 the costume of the first orator that I ever had the 
 pleasure of hearing address the electors of a coun- 
 ty in Georgia. Indeed, he was the last also; for, 
 though it is not now an unusual thing for candi- 
 dates "to respond in strains of glowing elo- 
 quence" (see g-^zQ-iies, passim) at dinner parties 
 and barbecues, it is a very rare thing for them to 
 address " the sovereignty " when assembled to ex- 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 235 
 
 ercise the elective franchise. But Darby had no 
 alternative. The greetings which he met with 
 from the crowd when he ascended the tribune 
 were such as would have confounded any one who 
 did not understand the spirit with which they were 
 uttered. Strange as it may seem to the reader, 
 they were meant for encouragement, and were so 
 understood by Darby. 
 
 "Hey, Darb!" vociferated one, "you're too 
 strong for your runners ; you've pushed your legs 
 too far through your breeches." 
 
 "Never mind that, Darby," cried another. 
 "Tuck in your shirt-tail, and novate away the 
 best you can; we'll see you out." 
 
 "Why, Darby," cried the third, "what makes 
 you siualler so? Stand up to your fodder like a 
 man. You've got plenty of friends here yet." 
 
 "Why, gentlemen," proceeded Darby, "its 
 enough to make anybody siualler and feel bad too 
 to be put upon after this sorts, all iinbeknowens, 
 when he ha' n't got no chance o' defendin' himself — 
 no manner o'chance. Gentlemen, I fit in the revo- 
 lution ; and if I'm now to lose my charyr/Vter because 
 I'm took all unawar's, I shall think it the hardest 
 case I ever hearn of in all my born days. Gentle- 
 men, my charr/<:ter's as much to me and any hard- 
 workin' man as any man's charr/rter is to him, if 
 he's a lawyer, or a doctor, or a store-keeper, or I 
 don't care what he is. For what's a man worth 
 that an't got no charr/<::ter? He's like a pair o' 
 bellowses that ha' n't got no nose, or a saw that 
 ha' n't got no handle: they an't no manner o' 
 count; you can't use 'em at all. ['That's the 
 
236 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 truth, Darby,' interposed a voice gravely.] Gen- 
 tlemen, I've lived a long time with you: did any 
 of you ever hear of my usin' perj'ry? I reckon if 
 I had time I could git ce'tif'cates too, but you all 
 see I an't got no time at all. Gentlemen, I don't 
 think I ever seed any one that was so persecuted 
 in all my born days; and if I'm beat now, I shall 
 think I'm beat by persecution. And there's my 
 wife and ten children, and they must all lose their 
 charr/Vters, too, just by bein' taken unawar's. I 
 never knowed nobody to git nothin' by persecu- 
 tion; but if me and my wife and children's all to 
 lose our charr/Vters by it, why I s'pose it must be 
 so, but I shall think it mighty hard. Gentlemen, 
 you can do as you please with me ; and whatever 
 you do, I can't help it." 
 
 The cry of *' Hurrah for Anvil! " from many 
 voices as Darby descended from the steps plainly 
 testified that he had the sympathies and support of 
 the majority. In vain did Jones and his friends 
 reason with them upon the difference between ex- 
 posing vice and persecuting innocence. It was in 
 vain that they argued against the injustice of visit- 
 ing Bugg's fault (if fault it was) upon the head of 
 his friend Jones. The time and the severity of the 
 attack were sufficient to change Darby into an ob- 
 ject of persecution in their eyes. To make matters 
 worse,if possible, for Jones, " Your Uncle Nicky" 
 undertook to reason with the malcontents. This 
 was a very unfortunate step, for though he was 
 fully competent to reason, and reason well, with 
 reasonable beings, he was the last man on earth 
 who, in this way, should have undertaken to re- 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 
 
 237 
 
 claim those who were won to Darby's support by 
 what we have seen. He was easily excited and ut- 
 terly intolerant of folly. Irritable as he was, how- 
 ever, he rarely gave signs of anger either in voice 
 or countenance. So far from it his composure was 
 always greatest when just at the fighting point. 
 
 The first that '*Your Uncle Nicky" undertook 
 to correct was Jimmy Johns, who had pretended to 
 have a great friendship for him for reasons to be 
 found in Jimmy's deportment toward John Rey- 
 nolds. 
 
 " Jimmy," said Bugg, " you surely are not going 
 to vote for that fool. Darby Anvil." 
 
 "Yes, I is," said Jimmy; "and the more and 
 the better of it is, I mean to give him a plumper, 
 too." 
 
 " What! to such a despicable character?" 
 
 " Yes; despical or no despical character, I can't 
 go ag'in a persecuted man with a wife and ten 
 childern — Miss Anvil is — " 
 
 " But it*s no persecution to tell the truth on a 
 man, especially when the truth goes to show that 
 he is unfit for an office to which he is aspiring. 
 Your way of reasoning will make rascality a pass- 
 port to office." 
 
 " O, I don't blame you^ Uncle Nicky, I know 
 what you did was for the best, but now you'll con- 
 fess yourself — now won't you. Uncle Nicky? — that 
 if he was 'spirin' and passport, you oughtn't to 
 come down on him as you did, right at the 'lection. 
 That was rubbin' him too hard, now wa'n't it. Un- 
 cle Nicky? 'Twas enough to make anybody feel 
 sorry for him ; and Miss Anvil — ' ' 
 
238 JUDGE LONGSTREET, 
 
 " What difference does it make when or wnere 
 you expose a villain? And what has Miss Anvil 
 to do with it? Is she a candidate?" 
 
 *' No, but she's a mighty good 'oman; and you 
 know yourself, Uncle Nicky, she an't to blame. 
 And wouldn't it be wrong to hurt her charr/^ter? 
 Now I leave it to yourself. Uncle Nicky. Jist 
 take it to yourself — s'pose you'd been guilty o' 
 parj'ry, and Miss Bugg — " 
 
 *' Stop a little, Jimmy," said Bugg very calmly, 
 *' until ' Your Uncle Nicky ' tries another argument 
 better suited to your capacity, and which I think 
 will brighten your ideas." So saying, he "fetched 
 Jimmy a sentimental jolt" (as one afterward de- 
 scribed it) in the bur of the ear that laid him out 
 in short order. 
 
 Jimmy "holl'd" in time to arrest Uncle Nicky's 
 experimental philosophy at the first blow and the 
 second kick. He would have fought longer with 
 another man, but with Uncle Nicky he knew that 
 the longer he fought the worse he would be flogged ; 
 so he acted \n isely for once at least. 
 
 In this way did "Your Uncle Nicky" proceed 
 to dispense light amongst the flehs until he raised 
 a battle-royal in the court-yard. At one time I ob- 
 served not less than eight couples who were en- 
 gaged in interchanging Uncle Nick^^'s ethics. 
 
 The day rolled away, and at ten o'clock at night 
 the state of the polls was announced. Darby and 
 Smith were elected. They were both hoisted and 
 borne about on the shoulders of their friends with 
 huzzas of triumph. They then invited all who lin- 
 gered about the court-yard at that late hour to a 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 239 
 
 supper at one of the public houses of the village. 
 Here they ate, drank, sung vulgar songs, and told 
 more vulgar stories until about one o'clock, when 
 they, or some of them, sallied forth and with drum 
 and fife and yells drove sleep from the village un- 
 til the dawn. 
 
 An inveterate hostility between Smith and Jones 
 followed this election, the traces of which may be 
 seen in their descendants to this day. Darby was 
 elected again and again ; and though he did noth- 
 ing in the Legislature but vote as Smith voted, and 
 drink grog in the recess of the sessions, he always 
 returned to his constituents with wonderful stories 
 of what '■^zue did and what zve tried to do." 
 
 In the meantime, things about home began to 
 run rapidly to decay. Sambo and Cuffy worked 
 up immense quantities of iron,forthey both worked 
 a great deal harder, as they said themselves, when 
 *' massa" was away than when he was there, " jist 
 dat white folks might see dat nigger didn't want no 
 watchin', and dat massa might know how to trust 
 'em." But then they had little or nothing to show 
 for it. A number of good customers deserted the 
 shop ; some from political hostility to the owner, 
 and others because Sambo and Cuffy were always 
 too busy to attend to them. Mrs. Anvil grew dis- 
 satisfied with politics as soon as Darby returned 
 the first time from the Legislature with no money 
 in his pockets, for she had taken up the idea that 
 all who stepped into the Assembly stepped into a 
 fortune. She therefore advised Darby to ** quit it 
 as not bein' the thing it was cracked up to be," 
 and to *' come home and mind his own business." 
 
240 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 But Darby had become too much enamored of the 
 public service to take her counsel. He told her it 
 would never do in the world for him to take his 
 name down — his -pat'ty ^NOvXdi never forgive him. 
 This logic was unsatisfactory to Nancy at first, and 
 it became still more so as troubles thickened about 
 the house. She therefore became crusty, petulant, 
 and boisterous by turns, greatly to the disturbance 
 of Darby's domestic peace and tranquillity. He 
 had anticipated this emergency, and took to drink 
 privately beforehand ; but he now began to come 
 home drunk out of spite, and Nancy gave him spite 
 for spite. Still, however, wife-like, she struggled 
 hard to keep things together and to save her fam- 
 ily from ruin; and her increased industry and 
 economy would probably have balanced Darby's 
 waste from drink and kept a support in hand until 
 he burned out, but alas ! tickets began to pour in 
 upon them by the peck from the courts of con- 
 science and other more unconscionable courts, in- 
 viting Darby to appear here and appear there to 
 answer for countless debts of his constituents. 
 Then came the officers of justice and reduced them 
 to beggary. A httle before matters reached this 
 crisis Darby w^as beaten for the Legislature, and it 
 distressed him beyond measure. The friends for 
 whom he had done the most were the first to desert 
 him, alleging as a reason his want of qualification, 
 and their thorough conviction, after three years' 
 reflection, that the Virginia certificates were true. 
 Thus ended Darby's nomothetic career, but here 
 ended not the consequences of it. Encouraged by 
 his success, worthless candidates sprung 
 
DARBT ANVIL. 1A^\ 
 
 ery county. If their presumption was rebuked, 
 they silenced the reprover and repressed their own 
 shame with " I know that I am better quahfied than 
 Darby Anvil." Under this plea and by such arti- 
 fices as Anvil had used, they made their way to the 
 councils of the State, where they became the worthy 
 progenitors of a series of acts extending through 
 many years, which for extravagance and folly have 
 no parallel in the codes of enlightened nations. 
 The penalties of these acts are now upon our heads, 
 and upon our children's children will they descend 
 with unmitigated rigor. I forbear to follow the 
 consequences further — in charity to my native land 
 I forbear. And yet I am not so sure but that such 
 charity is treason to the State and allegiance to her 
 most deadly foes. Presumptuous ignorance should 
 be reprimanded with a fearless tongue, its sins 
 should be proclaimed abroad in warning to the peo- 
 ple, and all good men should unite their efforts to 
 redeem the State entirely from its dominion. But 
 I leave these offices to be performed by persons of 
 more skill and inlluence than Baldwin. 
 
 10 
 
NED BRACE. 
 
 THERE are some yet living who knew the man 
 whose character I am about to delineate, and 
 these will unanimously bear testimony that if it be 
 not faithfully drawn it is not overdrawn. They 
 cannot avouch for the truth of the anecdotes which 
 I am about to relate of him, because of these they 
 know nothing; but they will unhesitatingly declare 
 that there is nothing herein ascribed to him of 
 which he was incapable, and of which he would 
 not readily have been the author, supposing the 
 scenes in which I have placed him to be real, and 
 the thoughts and actions attributed to him to have 
 actually suggested themselves to him. They will 
 further testify that the thoughts and actions are in 
 perfect harmony with his general character. 
 
 I do not feel at liberty as yet to give the name of 
 the person in question, and therefore he shall be 
 designated for the present by the appellation of Ned 
 Brace. 
 
 This man seemed to live only to amuse himself 
 with his fellow-beings ; and he possessed the rare 
 faculty of deriving some gratification of his favorite 
 propensity from almost every person whom he met, 
 no matter what his temper, standing, or disposi- 
 tion. Of course he had opportunities enough of 
 exercising his uncommon gift, and he rarely suf- 
 fered an opportunity to pass unimproved. The 
 (242) 
 
NED BRACE. 243 
 
 beau in the presence of his mistress, the fop, the 
 pedant, the purse-proud, the over-fastidious, and 
 sensitive were Ned's favorite game. These never 
 passed him uninjured, and against such he directed 
 his severest shafts. With these he commonly 
 amused himself by exciting in them every variety 
 of emotion under circumstances pecuHarly ridicu- 
 lous. He was admirably fitted to his vocation. He 
 could assume any character which his humor re- 
 quired him to personate, and he could sustain it to 
 perfection. His knowledge of the character of 
 others seemed to be intuitive. 
 
 It may seem remarkable, but it is true, that 
 though he lived his own peculiar life for about six- 
 teen years, after he reached the age of manhood 
 he never involved himself in a personal rencounter 
 with anyone. This was owing in part to his mus- 
 cular frame, which few would be wilhng to engage ; 
 but more particularly to his adroitness in the man- 
 agement of his projects of fun. He generally con- 
 ducted them in such a way as to render it impossible 
 for any one to call him to account without violating 
 all the rules of decency, politeness, and chivalry at 
 once. But a few anecdotes of him will give the 
 reader a much better idea of his character than he 
 can possibly derive from a general description. If 
 these fulfill the description which I have given of 
 my hero , all will agree that he is no imaginary being ; 
 if they do not, it will only be because I am unfortu- 
 nate in my selection. Having known him from his 
 earliest manhood to his grave — for he was a native 
 Geofgian — I confess that I am greatly perplexed in 
 determining what portions of his singular history to 
 
244 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 lay before the reader as a proper specimen of the 
 whole. A three days' visit which I once made 
 with him to Savannah placed him in a greater va- 
 riety of scenes and among a greater diversity of 
 characters than perhaps any other period of his 
 life embracing no longer time; and, therefore, I 
 will choose this for my purpose. 
 
 We reached Savannah just at night-fall of a cold 
 December evening. As we approached the tavern 
 of Mr. Blank, at w^hich we designed to stop, Ned 
 proposed to me that we should drop our acquaint- 
 ance until he should choose to renew it. To this 
 proposition I most cordially assented, for I knew 
 that so doing I should be saved some mortifications 
 and avoid a thousand questions which I would not 
 know how to answer. According to this under- 
 standing Ned lingered behind, in order that I might 
 reach the tavern alone. 
 
 On alighting at the public-house I was led into a 
 large dining-room at the entrance of which, to the 
 right, stood the bar, opening into the dining-room. 
 On the left, and rather nearer to the center of the 
 room, was a fire-place surrounded by gentlemen. 
 Upon entering the room my name was demanded 
 at the bar; it was given, and I took my seat in the 
 circle around the fire. I had been seated just long 
 enough for the company to survey me to their sat- 
 isfaction and resume their conversation when Ned's 
 heavy footstep at the door turned the eyes of the 
 company to the approaching stranger. 
 
 *' Your name, sir, if you please?" said the rest- 
 less little bar-keeper, as he entered. 
 
 Ned stared at the question with apparent alarm. 
 
NED BRACE, 245 
 
 cast a fearful glance at the company, frowned and 
 shook his head in token of caution to the bar-keep- 
 er, looked confused for a moment, then, as if sud- 
 denly recollecting himself, jerked a piece of paper 
 out of his pocket, turned from the company, wrote 
 on it with his pencil, handed it to the bar-keeper, 
 walked to the left of the fire-place and took the 
 most conspicuous seat in the circle. He looked 
 at no one, spoke to no one; but, fixing his eyes on 
 the fire, lapsed into a profound reverie. 
 
 The conversation, which had been pretty gener- 
 al before, stopped as short as if every man in the 
 room had been shot dead. Every eye was fixed 
 on Ned, and every variety of expression was to be 
 seen on the countenances of the persons present. 
 The landlord came in ; the bar-keeper whispered to 
 him and looked at Ned. The landlord looked at 
 him too with astonishment and alarm; the bar- 
 keeper produced a piece of paper, and both of them 
 examined it as if searching for a fig-mite with the 
 naked eye. They rose from the examination un- 
 satisfied, and looked at Ned again. Those of the 
 company who recovered first from their astonish- 
 ment tried to revive the conversation ; but the effort 
 was awkward, met w^ith no support, and failed. 
 The bar-keeper, for the first time in his life, became 
 dignified and solemn, and left the bar to take care 
 of itself. The landlord had a world of foolish 
 questions to ask the gentlemen directly opposite to 
 Ned, for which purpose he passed round to them 
 every two mimrtes, and the answer to none did he 
 hear. 
 
 Three or four boarders coming in who were un- 
 
246 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 apprised of what had happened at length revived 
 the conversation, not, however, until they had cre- 
 ated some confusion by inquiring of their friends 
 the cause of their sober looks. As soon as the con- 
 versation began to become easy and natural, Ned 
 rose and walked out into the entry. With the first 
 movement all were as hush as death ; but when he 
 had cleared the door, another Babel scene ensued. 
 Some inquired, others suspected, and all wondered. 
 Some were engaged in telling the strangers what 
 had happened, others were making toward the bar, 
 and all were becoming clamorous when Ned re- 
 turned and took his seat. His re-entry was as fa- 
 tal to conversation as was the first movement of his 
 exit; but it soon recovered from the shock, with 
 the difference, however, that those who /<?^ before 
 w^ere now mute and wholly absorbed in the con- 
 templation of Ned's person. 
 
 After retaining his seat for about ten minutes, 
 Ned rose again, inquired the way to the stable, and 
 left the house. As soon as he passed the outer 
 door, the bar-keeper hastened to the company with 
 Ned's paper in his hand. " Gentlemen," said he, 
 ** can any of you tell me what name this is?" All 
 rushed to the paper in an instant; one or two pair 
 of heads met over it with considerable force. 
 After pondering over it to their hearts' content, they 
 all agreed that the first letter was an *' E," and the 
 second a ** B " or an *' R," and the devil himself 
 could not make out the balance. While they were 
 thus enija":ed, to the astonishment of evervbodv, 
 Ned interrupted their deliberations with: '' Gentle- 
 men, if ynu have satisfied 3'ourselves with that pa- 
 
NED BRACE. 247 
 
 per, I'll thank you for it." It is easy to imagine, 
 but impossible to describe, the looks and actions of 
 the company under their surprise and mortification. 
 They dropped off and left the bar-keeper to his ap- 
 propriate duty of handing the paper to Ned. He 
 reached it forth, but Ned moved not a hand to re- 
 ceive it for about the space of three seconds, dur- 
 ing which time he kept his eyes fixed upon the 
 arch offender in av^fully solemn rebuke. He then 
 took it gravely and put it in his pocket and left the 
 bar-keeper with a shaking ague upon him. From 
 this moment he became Ned's most obsequious and 
 
 wiUing slave. ^,1 i 1 j 
 
 Supper was announced; Mrs. Blank, the land- 
 lady, took the head of the table, and Ned seated 
 himself next to her. Her looks denoted some alarm 
 at finding him so near to her, and plainly showed 
 that he had been fully described to her by her hus- 
 band or some one else. 
 
 *' Will you take tea or coffee, sir? ' said she. 
 ''Why, madam," said Ned, in a tone as court- 
 eous as Chesterfield himself could have used, '^ I 
 am really ashamed to acknowledge and expose my 
 very singular appetite ; but habitual indulgence ot 
 it has made it necessary to my comfort, if not my 
 health, that I should still favor it when I can. It 
 you will pardon me, I will take both at the same 
 
 time 
 
 lie. - n 
 
 This respectful reply (which, by the way, she 
 alone was permitted to hear) had its natural eilect 
 It won for him her unquaHfied indulgence, raised 
 doubts whether he could be the suspicious character 
 which had been described to her, and begat in her a 
 
248 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 desire to cultivate a further acquaintance with him. 
 She handed him the two cups and accompanied 
 them with some remarks drawn from her own ob- 
 servation in the line of her business calculated to 
 reconcile him to his whimsical appetite, but she 
 could extract from Ned nothing but monosyllables, 
 and sometimes not even that much. Consequent- 
 ly, the good lady began very soon to relapse into 
 her former feelings. 
 
 Ned placed a cup on either side of him and com- 
 menced stirring both at the same time very delib- 
 erately. This done, he sipped a little tea and asked 
 Mrs. B. for a drop more milk in it. Then he 
 tasted his coffee and desired a little more sugar in 
 it. Then he tasted his tea again and requested a 
 small lump more sugar in it. Lastly, he tasted his 
 coffee, and desired a few drops more milk in that. 
 It was easy to discover that before he got suited 
 the landlady had solemnly resolved never to offer 
 any more encouragements to such an appetite. 
 She waxed exceedingly petulant; and having noth- 
 ing else to scold, she scolded the servants of course. 
 
 Waffles were handed to Ned, and he took one; 
 batter-cakes were handed, and he took one; and 
 so on of muffins, rolls, and corn-bread. Having 
 laid in these provisions, he turned into his plate, 
 upon his waffle and batter-cake, some of the 
 crumbs of the several kinds of bread which he had 
 taken, in different proportions, and commenced 
 mashing all together with his knife. During this 
 operation the landlady frowned and pouted, the 
 servants giggled, and the boarders were variously 
 affected. 
 
NED BRACE. 249 
 
 Having reduced his mess to the consistency of a 
 hard poultice, he packed it all up to one side of his 
 plate in the form of a terrapin and smoothed it all 
 over nicely with his knife. Nearly opposite to Ned 
 but a little below him, sat a waspish little gentle- 
 man who had been watching him with increasing 
 torments from the first to the last movement of 
 Ned's knife. His tortures were visible to bhnder 
 eyes than Ned's, and doubtless had been seen by 
 him in their earliest paroxysms. This gentleman 
 occupied a seat nearest to a dish of steak, and was 
 in the act of muttering something about " brutes" 
 to his next neighbor, when Ned beckoned a serv- 
 ant to him and requested him " to ask that gentle- 
 man for a small bit of steak. ' ' The servant obeyed, 
 and, planting Ned's plate directly between the gen- 
 tleman's and the steak-dish, delivered his message. 
 The testy gendeman turned his head, and the first 
 thing he saw was Ned's parti-colored terrapin right 
 under his nose. He started as if he had been 
 struck by a snapping-turde ; reddened to scarlet; 
 looked at Ned (who appeared as innocent as a 
 lamb); looked at the servant (who appeared as 
 innocent as Ned); and then fell to work on the 
 steak as if he were amputating all Ned's hmbs at 
 
 once. 
 
 Ned now commenced his repast. He ate his 
 meat and breads in the usual way, but he drank his 
 Hquids in all ways. First a sip of tea, then of cof- 
 fee ; then two of the first and one of the last; then 
 three of the last and one of the first, and so on. 
 
 His steak was soon consumed, and his plate was 
 a second time returned to the mettlesome gentle- 
 
250 yUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 man ''for another very small bit of steak." The 
 plate paid its second visit precisely as it had its 
 first, and as soon as the fiery gentleman saw the 
 half-demolished terrapin again under his nose he 
 seized a fork, drove it into the largest slice of steak 
 in the dish, dashed it into Ned's plate, rose from 
 the table, and left the room, cursing Ned from the 
 very inmost chamber of his soul. Every person 
 at the table, except Ned, laughed outright at the 
 little man's fury; but Ned did not even smile; nay, 
 he looked for all the w^orld as if he thought the laugh 
 was at him. 
 
 The boarders one after another retired, until 
 Ned and the landlady were left alone at the table. 
 
 " Will 3^ou have another cup of tea and coffee, 
 sir?" said she, by the way of convincing him that 
 he ought to retire, seeing that he had finished his 
 supper. 
 
 " No, I thank you, madam," returned Ned. 
 
 *' Will you have a glass of milk, and a cup of tea 
 or coffee, or all three together?" 
 
 *'No, ma'am," said Ned. ''I am not blind, 
 madam," continued he, ''to the effects which my 
 unfortunate eccentricities have produced upon 
 yourself and your company; nor have I witnessed 
 them without those feelings which they are well 
 calculated to inspire in a man of ordinary sensibil- 
 ities. I am aware, too, that I am prolonging and 
 aggravating your uneasiness by detaining 3'ou be- 
 yond the hour which demands your presence at the 
 table ; but I could not permit you to retire without 
 again bespeaking your indulgence of the strange, 
 unnatural appetite which has just caused you so 
 
NED BRACE, 25 1 
 
 much astonishment and mortification. The story 
 of its beginning might be interesting and certainly 
 would be instructing to you if you are a rnother; 
 but I am indisposed at this time to obtrude it upon 
 your patience, and I presume you are still less dis- 
 posed to hear it. My principal object, however, 
 in claiming your attention for a moment at this 
 time is to assure you that out of respect to your 
 feehngs I will surrender the enjoyment of my meals 
 for the few days that I have to remain in Savannah, 
 and conform to the customs of your table. The 
 sudden change of my habits will expose me to some 
 inconvenience, and may perhaps affect my health ; 
 but I will wilhngly incur these hazards rather than 
 renew your mortification or impose upon your 
 family the trouble of giving me my meals at my 
 
 room. 
 
 The good lady, whose bitter feehngs had given 
 place to the kinder emotions of pity and benevo- 
 lence before Ned had half concluded his apology 
 (for it was delivered in a tone of the most melting 
 eloquence), caught at this last hint, and insisted 
 upon sending his meals to his room. Ned reluc- 
 tantly consented, after extorting a pledge from her 
 that she would assume the responsibilities of the 
 trouble that he was about to give the family. 
 
 *'As to your hoarders, madam," said Ned, in 
 conclusion, " I have no apology to make to them. 
 I grant them the privilege of eating what they 
 please and as they please ; but, so far as they are 
 concerned, I shall exercise the same privileges, 
 reckless of their feehngs or opinions ; and I shall 
 take it as a singular favor if you will say nothing 
 
252 JUDGE L ONGS TREE T. 
 
 to them or to any one else which may lead them to 
 the discovery that I am acquainted with my own 
 peculiarities." 
 
 The good lady promised obedience to his wishes, 
 and Ned, requesting to be conducted to his room, 
 retired. 
 
 A group of gentlemen at the fire-place had sent 
 many significant '* hems " and smiles at Mrs. Blank 
 during her tete-a-tete with Ned, and as she ap- 
 proached them on her way out of the room they 
 began to taunt her playfully upon the impression 
 which she seemed to have made upon the remark- 
 able stranger. 
 
 *' Really," said one, '* I thought the ini^j'ession 
 was on the other side." 
 
 '*And, in truth, so it was," said Mrs. B. At this 
 moment her husband stepped in. 
 
 ** I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Blank," said one of 
 the company, *' you'd better keep a sharp lookout 
 on that stranger ; our landlady is wonderfully taken 
 with him." 
 
 "I'll be bound," said Mr. B., "for my wife: 
 the less like anybody else in the world he is, the 
 better will she like him." 
 
 "Well, I assure you," said Mrs. B., "I never 
 had my feelings so deeply interested in a stranger 
 in my life. I'd give the world to know his his- 
 tory." 
 
 " Why, then," rejoined the landlord, " I sup- 
 pose he has been quizzing us all this time." 
 
 "No," said she, "he is incapable of quizzing. 
 All that you have seen of him is unaffected, and 
 perfectly natural to him." 
 
NED BRACE. 
 
 253 
 
 *'Then, really," continued the husband, *' he is 
 a very interesting object, and I congratulate you 
 upon getting so early into his confidence ; but, as 
 I am not quite as much captivated with his unaf- 
 fected graces as you seem to be, I shall take the 
 liberty, in charity to the rest of my boarders, of 
 requesting him to-morrow to seek other lodgings." 
 
 " O," exclaimed Mrs. B., in the goodness of 
 her heart, and with a countenance evincive of the 
 deepest feeling, '' I would not have you do such a 
 thing for the world. He's only going to stay a few 
 days." 
 
 '' How do you know? " 
 
 " He told me so, and do let's bear with him that 
 short time. He sha'n't trouble 3^ou or the boarders 
 any more." 
 
 "Why, Sarah," said the landlord, " I do believe 
 you are out of your senses !" 
 
 *' Gone case," said one boarder; " Terrible af- 
 fair," said another; "Bewitching little fellow," 
 said a third. " Come, Mrs. Blank, tell us all he 
 said to you ! We young men wish to know how 
 to please the ladies, so that we may get wives 
 easily. I'm determined, the next party I go to, to 
 make a soup of every thing on the waiters and eat 
 all at once. I shall then become irresistible to the 
 ladies." 
 
 " Get along with your nonsense," said Mrs. B., 
 smiling as she left the room. 
 
 At 8 o'clock I retired to my room, which hap- 
 pened (probably from the circumstance of our 
 reaching the hotel within a few minutes of each 
 other) to be adjoining Ned's. I had no sooner 
 
254 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 entered my room than Ned followed me, where 
 we interchanged the particulars which make up 
 the foregoing story. He now expended freely the 
 laughter which he had been collecting during the 
 evening. lie stated that his last interview with 
 Mrs. Blank was the result of necessity; that he 
 found he had committed himself in making up and 
 disposing of his odd supper; for that he should 
 have to eat in the same way during his whole stay 
 in Savannah, unless he could manage to get his 
 meals in private; and, though he was willing to do 
 penance for one meal in order to purchase the 
 amusement he had enjoyed, he had no idea of 
 tormenting himself three or four days for the same 
 purpose. " To tell you the honest truth," said he, 
 *' nothing but an appetite whetted by fasting and 
 traveling could have borne me through the table 
 scene. As it was, my stomach several times threat- 
 ened to expose my tricks to the whole company by 
 downright open rebellion. I feel that I must make 
 it some atonement for the liberty I have taken with 
 it, and therefore propose that we go out and take 
 an oyster supper before we retire to rest." I as- 
 sented. We set out, going separately until we 
 reached the street. 
 
 We were received by the 03^ster-vender in a 
 small shop which fronted upon the street, and 
 were conducted through it to a back door, and 
 thence b}^ a flight of steps to a convenient room 
 on the second floor of an adjoining building. We 
 had been seated about three minutes, when we 
 heard footsteps on the stairs, and directly caught 
 this sentence from the ascending stranger: *'Aha, 
 
NED BRACE. 255 
 
 Monsieur Middletong, you say you hab t)ie bes 
 oystar in le cittee? Vel, me shall soon see." 
 
 The sentence was hardly uttered before the door 
 opened, and in stepped a gay, smirky little French- 
 man. He made us a low bow; and, as soon as he 
 rose from his obeisance, Ned rushed to him in 
 transports of joy, seized him by the hand, and, 
 shaking it with friendship's warmest grasp, ex- 
 claimed: '' How do you do, my old friend? I had 
 no idea of meeting you here. H^ow do you do, Mr. 
 Squeezelfanter? How have you been this long 
 time?" 
 
 " Sair," said the Frenchman, " me tank you ver 
 much to lub me so hard, but you mistake de gen- 
 tleman; my name is not de Squeezilfaunter." 
 
 "Come, come, John," continued Ned, "quit 
 your old tricks before strangers. Mr. Hall, let 
 me introduce you to my particular friend, John 
 Squeezelfanter, from Paris." 
 
 "Perhaps, sir," said I, not knowing well what 
 to say or how to act in such an emergency — " per- 
 haps you have mistaken the gentleman." 
 
 " Begar, sair," said monsieur, "he is mistac 
 ebery ting at once. My name is not Zhattn; me 
 play no treek; me is not de gentlemong fren' ; me 
 did not come from Paree^ but from Bordeaux; and 
 me did not suppose dare was a man in all France 
 dat was name de Squeezilfaunter." 
 
 "If I am mistaken," said Ned, " I humbly ask 
 your pardon; but, really, you look so much like 
 my old friend yack^ and talk so much like him, 
 that I would have sworn you were he." 
 
 " Vel, sair," said monsieur, looking at Ned as 
 
256 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 though he might be an aquaintance after all — " vel, 
 sair, dis time you tell my name right: my name is 
 Jacques * — Jacques Saner ic.'' 
 
 " There," proceeded Ned, *' I knew it was im- 
 possible I could be mistaken; your whole family 
 settled on Sandy Creek; I know your father and 
 mother, your sisters, Patsy and Dilsy, your brother 
 Ichabod, your Aunt Bridget, your" — 
 
 *'0, mon Dieu, mon Dieu ! " exclaimed the 
 Frenchman, '*dat is von Mericane familee; dare 
 yas not one French familee hab all dat name since 
 dis vorl vas make." 
 
 ** Now look at me, good Jack," said Ned, ** and 
 see if you don't recollect your old friend, Obadiah 
 Snoddleburg, who used to play with you when a 
 boy in Sandy Creek." 
 
 " Vel, Monsieur Snotborg, me look at you ver' 
 well; and, begar, me neber see you in de creek, 
 nor out de creek. Tis ver surprise you not know 
 one name from one creek. ^^ 
 
 '' O, very well, sir, very well; I forgot where I 
 was; I understand you now, perfectly. You are 
 not the first gentleman I have met with in Savan- 
 nah who knew me well in the country and forgot 
 me in town. I ask your pardon, sir, and hope 
 you'll excuse me." 
 
 *'Me is ver wilt to know you nozv^ sair; but, 
 begar, me will not tell you one lie to know you 
 tzuenty-Jive and tirty years ago^ 
 
 " It makes no difference, sir," said Ned, look- 
 ing thoughtful and chagrined. " I beg leave, 
 
 *This name in French is pronounced very nearly like "Jack " 
 in Ensflish. 
 
NED BRACE. 
 
 257 
 
 however, before we close our acquaintance to cor- 
 rect one mistake which I made. I said you were 
 from Paris. I beHeve, on reflection, I was wrong; 
 I think your sister Dilsy told me you zvere from 
 Bordeaux." 
 
 " Foutre, de sist Dils ! Here Monsieur Middle- 
 to ng ! My oystar ready ? ' ' 
 *'Yes, sir." 
 
 ** Vel, if my oystar ready, you give dem to my 
 fren Monsieur Snotborg, and ask him to be so 
 good to carry dem to my sist Dils and my brother 
 Ichbod on Sand Creek." So saying, he vanished 
 like lightning. 
 
 The next morning, at breakfast, I occupied 
 Ned's seat. Mrs. Blank had no sooner taken her 
 place than she ordered a servant to bring her a 
 waiter, upon which she placed a cup of tea and 
 another of coffee; then, ordering three plates, she 
 placed them on it; sent one servant for one kind 
 of bread and another for another, and so on 
 through all the varieties that were on the table, 
 from which she made selections for plate No. i. 
 In the same way did she collect meats for plate 
 No. 2. No. 3 she left blank. She had nearl}^ 
 completed her operations, when her husband came 
 to know why every servant was engaged and no 
 gentlemen helped to any thing, when the oddly 
 furnished waiter met his eye and fully explained 
 the wonder. 
 
 *'In God's name, Sarah," said he, *'who are 
 you mixing up those messes for? " 
 
 *' For that strange gentleman we were speaking 
 of last night," was the reply. 
 17 
 
258 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 "Why doesn't he come to the table?" 
 
 " He was very anxious to come, but I would not 
 let him." 
 
 ''Toil would not let him! Why not?" 
 
 ** Because I did not wish to see a man of his 
 delicate sensibilities ridiculed and insulted at my 
 table." 
 
 "Delicate devilabilities ! Then why didn't 3^ou 
 send a servant to collect his mixtures? " 
 
 " Because I preferred doing it myself to troub- 
 ling the boarders. I knew that wherever the plates 
 went the gentlemen would be making merry over 
 them, and I couldn't bear to see it." 
 
 The landlord looked at her for a moment with 
 commingled astonishment, doubt, and alarm ; and 
 then, upon the breath of a deep-drawn sigh, pro- 
 ceeded: *' Well, d — n* the man ! He hasn't been 
 in the house more than two hours, except when he 
 was asleep, and he has insulted one-half my board- 
 ers, made fools of the other half, turned the head 
 of my bar-keeper, crazed all my servants, and run 
 my wife right stark, staring, raving mad ; a man 
 who is a perfect clown in his manners, and who, I 
 have no doubt, will in the end prove to be a horse 
 thief." 
 
 Much occurred between the landlord and his 
 lady in relation to Ned which we must, of neces- 
 sity, omit. Suffice it to say that her assiduities to 
 
 *I should certainly omit such expressions as this could I do 
 so with historic fidelity, but the peculiarities of the times of 
 \vhich I am writing cannot be faithfully represented without 
 them. In recording things as t/iey arc^ truth requires me some- 
 times to put profane language into the mouths of my characters. 
 
NED BRACE. 259 
 
 Ned, her unexplained sympathies for him, her 
 often repeated desires to become better acquainted 
 with him, conspiring with one or two short inter- 
 views which her husband saw between her and 
 Ned (and which consisted of nothing more than 
 expressions of regret on his part at the trouble he 
 was giving the family, and assurance on hers that 
 it was no trouble at all), began to bring upon the 
 landlord the husband's worst calamity. This she 
 soon observed; and, considering her duty to her 
 husband as of paramount obligation, she gave him 
 an explanation that was entirely satisfactory. She 
 told him that Ned was a man of refined feelinofs 
 and highly cultivatt i mind ; but that in his infancy 
 his mother had forced him to eat different kinds 
 of diet together until she had produced in him a 
 vitiated and unconquerable appetite, wnich he was 
 now constained to indulge, as the drunkard does 
 his, or be miserable. As the good man was pre- 
 pared to believe any story of woman '5 folly, he was 
 satisfied. 
 
 This being the Sabbath, at the usual hour Ned 
 went to Church; and selected for his morning 
 service one of those churches in which the pews 
 are free, and in which the hymn is given out and 
 sung by the congregation, a half recitative. 
 
 Ned entered the church in as fast a walk as he 
 could possibly assume, proceeded about half down 
 the aisle, and popped himself down in his seat as 
 quick as if he had been shot. The more thought- 
 less of the congregation began to titter, and the 
 graver peeped up shyly but solemnly at him. 
 
 The pastor rose, and, before giving out the 
 
26o JUDGE LONGSTREEr. 
 
 hymn, observed that singing was a part of the 
 service in which he thought the whole congrega- 
 tion ought to join. Thus saying, he gave out the 
 first Hues of the hymn. As soon as the tune was 
 raised, Ned struck in with one of the loudest, 
 hoarsest, and most discordant voices that ever an- 
 noyed a solemn assembty. 
 
 ''I would observe," said the preacher, before 
 giving out the next two lines, " that there are some 
 persons who have not the gift of singing; such, of 
 course, are not expected to sing." Ned took the 
 hint, and sung no more; but his entrance into 
 church, and his entrance into the hymn, had al- 
 ready dispersed the solemnity of three-fifths of the 
 congregation. 
 
 As soon as the pastor commenced his sermon, 
 Ned opened his eyes, threw back his head, dropped 
 his under jaw, and surrendered himself to the most 
 intense interest. The preacher was an indifferent 
 one; and by as much as he became dull and in- 
 sipid, by so much did Ned become absorbed in the 
 discourse. And yet it was impossible for the nicest 
 observer to detect any thing in his looks or manner 
 short of the most solemn devotion. The effect 
 which his conduct had upon the congregation, and 
 their subsequent remarks, must be left to the im- 
 agination of the reader. I give but one remark: 
 *' Bless that good man who came in the church so 
 quick," said a venerable matron as she left the 
 church-door; "how he was affected by the sar- 
 ment!^^ 
 
 Ned went to church no more on that day. About 
 4 o'clock in the afternoon, while he was standing 
 
NED BRACE. 26 1 
 
 at the tavern door, a funeral procession passed by, 
 at the foot of which, and singly, walked one of the 
 smallest men I ever saw. As soon as he came op- 
 posite the door, Ned stepped out and joined him 
 with great solemnity. The contrast between the 
 two was ludicrously striking, and the little man's 
 looks and uneasiness plainly showed that he felt it. 
 However, he soon became reconciled to it. They 
 proceeded but a little way before Ned inquired of 
 his companion who was dead. 
 
 "Mr. Noah Bills," said the httle man. 
 
 "Nan?" said Ned, raising his hand to his ear 
 in token of deafness, and bending his head to the 
 speaker. 
 
 "Mr. Noah Bills," repeated the little man, loud 
 enough to disturb the two couples immediately be- 
 fore him. 
 
 "Mrs. Noel's Bill!" said Ned, with mortifica- 
 tion and astonishment. "Do the white persons 
 pay such respect to niggers in Savannah? / 
 sha'n't do it." So saying, he left the procession. 
 
 The little man was at first considerably nettled ; 
 but upon being left to his own reflections, he got 
 into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did the 
 couple immediately in advance of him, who over- 
 heard Ned's remark. The procession now exhib- 
 ited a most mortifying spectacle: the head of it in 
 mourning and in tears, and the foot of it convulsed 
 with laughter. 
 
 On Monday Ned employed himself in disposing 
 of the business which brought him to Savannah, 
 and I saw but little of him, but I could not step 
 into the street without hearing of him. All talked 
 
262 JUDGE LONGS TREET. 
 
 about him, and hardly any two agreed about his 
 character. 
 
 On Tuesday he visited the market, and set it all 
 in astonishment or laughter. He wanted to buy 
 something of everybody and some of every thing, 
 but could not agree upon the terms of a trade be- 
 cause he always wanted his articles in such por- 
 tions and numbers as no one would sell, or upon 
 conditions to which no one would submit. To 
 give a single example, he beset an old negro wom- 
 an to sell him the half of a livinof chicken. 
 
 " Do, my good mauma, sell it to me," said he; 
 '* my wife is very sick, and is longing for chicken 
 pie, and this is all the money I have [holding out 
 twelve and a half cents in silver], and its just what 
 a half chicken comes to at your own price." 
 
 *'Ki, massa I how gwine cut live chicken in 
 two?" 
 
 " I don't want you to cut it in two alive; kill it, 
 clean it, and then divide it." 
 
 " Name o' God ! what sort o' chance got to clean 
 chicken in de market-house? Whay de water for 
 scall um and wash um?" 
 
 " Don't scald it all; just pick it so." 
 
 **Ech-ech! Fedder fly all ober de buckera- 
 man meat; he come bang me fo' true. No, massa, 
 I mighty sorry for your wife, but I no cutty chick- 
 en open." 
 
 In the afternoon Ned entered the dining-room 
 of the tavern, and who should he find there but 
 Monsieur Sancric, of oyster-house memory. He 
 and the tavern-keeper were alone. With the first 
 glimpse of Ned, ** La diable ! " exclaimed the 
 
NED BRACE. 263 
 
 Frenchman, "here my brother Ichbod 'gain!" 
 and away he went. 
 
 "Mr. Sancric!" said the landlord, calling to 
 him as if to tell him something just thought of, and 
 following him out, " what did you say that man's 
 name is?" 
 
 " He name Monsieur Snotborg." 
 
 "Why, that can't be his name, for it begins with 
 a B or an R. Where is he from?" 
 
 "From Sand Creek." 
 
 " Where did you know him? " 
 
 " Begar, me neber did know him." 
 
 Here Ned sauntered in sight of the Frenchman, 
 and he vanished. 
 
 "Well," said the landlord, as he returned, "it 
 does seem to me that everybody who has any thing 
 to do with that man runs crazy forthwith." 
 
 When he entered the dining-room, he found Ned 
 deeply engaged reading a child's primer, with 
 which he seemed wonderfully delighted. The 
 landlord sat for a moment, smiled, and then hastily 
 left the room. As soon as he disappeared, Ned 
 laid down his book, and took his station behind 
 some cloaks in the bar, which at the moment was 
 deserted. He had just reached his place when the 
 landlord returned with his lady. 
 
 "O," said the first, "he's gone! I brought you 
 in to show you what kind of books your man of 
 * refined feelings and highly cultivated mind ' de- 
 lights in. But he has left his book, and here it is, 
 opened at the place where he left off; and do let's 
 see what's in it." 
 
 They examined and found that he had been 
 
264 JUDCiE LONGSTREET. 
 
 • reading the interesting poem of " Little Jack 
 Horner." 
 
 "Now," continued the landlord, " if you'll be- 
 lieve me, he was just as much delighted with that 
 stor}^ as you or I would be with the best written 
 number of the Spectator.'' 
 
 " Well, it's very strange," said Mrs. Blank; " I 
 reckon he must h^ flighty ^ for no man could have 
 made a more gentlemanly apology than he did to 
 me for his peculiarities, and no one could have 
 urged it more feelingly." 
 
 "One thing is very certain," said the husband; 
 "if he be not flighty himself, he has a wonderful 
 knack of making everybod}^ else so. Sancric ran 
 away from him just now as if he had seen the dev- 
 il; called him by one name when he left the room, 
 by another at the door, told me where he came 
 from, and finally swore he did not know him at 
 all." 
 
 Ned, having slipped softly from the bar into the 
 entry during this interview, entered the dining- 
 room as if from the street. 
 
 "I am happy," said he smiling, "to meet you 
 together and alone upon the eve of my departure 
 from Savannah that I may explain to you my sin- 
 gular conduct, and ask your forgiveness of it. I 
 will do so if you will not expose my true character 
 until I shall have left the city." 
 
 This they promised. 
 
 "My name then," continued he, "is Edward 
 Brace, of Richmond County. Humor has been 
 my besetting sin from my youth up. It has sunk 
 me far below the station to which my native gifts 
 
NED BRACE. 265 
 
 entitled me. It has robbed me of the respect of all 
 my acquaintances; and, what is more to be re- 
 gretted, the esteem of some of my best and most 
 indulgent friends. All this I have long known, and 
 I have a thousand times deplored, and as often re- 
 solved to conquer my self-destroying propensity. 
 But so deeply is it wrought into my very nature, so 
 completely and indissolubly interwoven is it with 
 every fiber and filament of my being, that I have 
 found it impossible for me to subdue it. Being on 
 my first visit to Savannah, unknowing and un- 
 known, I could not forego the opportunity which 
 it furnished of gratifying my ungovernable procliv^- 
 ity. All the extravagances which you have seen 
 have been in subservience to it." 
 
 He then explained the cause of his troubling the 
 kind lady before him to give him his meals at his 
 room and the strange conduct of Monsieur Sancric ; 
 at which they both laughed heartily. He referred 
 them to me for confirmation of what he had told 
 them. '* Having gone thus far," continued he, '*! 
 must sustain my character until to-morrow, when I 
 shall leave Savannah." 
 
 Having now two more to enjoy his humor with 
 him and myself, he let himself loose that night 
 among the boarders with all his strength, and never 
 did I see two mortals laugh as did Mr. and Mrs. 
 Blank. 
 
 Far as I have extended this sketch, I cannot 
 close without exhibiting Ned in one new scene in 
 which accident placed him before he left Savan- 
 nah. 
 
 About 2 o'clock on the morning of our depart- 
 
266 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ure the town was alarmed by the cry of fire. Ned 
 got up before me and taking one of my boots from 
 the door and putting one of his in its place he 
 marched down to the front door with odd boots. 
 On coming out and finding what had been done, I 
 knew that Ned could not have left the house, for it 
 was impossible for him to wear my boot. I was 
 about descending the stairs when he called to me 
 from the front door and said the servant had mixed 
 our boots and that he had brought down one of 
 mine. When I reached the front door I found 
 Ned and Mr. and Mrs. Blank there, all the inmates 
 of the house havino^ left it who desifjned to leave it 
 but Ned and myself. 
 
 *' Don't go and leave me, Hall," said he, hold- 
 ing my boot in his hand and having his own on his 
 leg. 
 
 ** How can I leave you," said I " unless you'll 
 give me my boot? " This he did not seem to hear. 
 
 " Do run, gentlemen," said Mrs. Blank, greatly 
 alarmed; " Mr. Brace, you've got Mr. Hall's boot; 
 give it to him." 
 
 '* In a minute, madam," said he, seeming to be 
 beside himself. A second after, however, all was 
 explained to me. He designed to have my com- 
 pany to the fire, and his own fun before he went. 
 
 A man came posting along in great alarm, and 
 crying " Fire " loudly. 
 
 " Mister ! mister ! " said Ned, jumping out of the 
 house. 
 
 " Sir," said the man, stopping and puffing aw- 
 fully. 
 
 " Have you seen Mr. Peleg Q. C. Stone along 
 
NED BRACE. 267 
 
 where you've been?" inquired Ned, with anxious 
 solicitude. 
 
 ''Blast Mr. Peleg Q. C. Stone!" said the 
 stranger. "What chance have I of seeing any- 
 body, hopping up at 2 o'clock in the morning, 
 and the town afire? " and on he went. 
 
 Thus did he amuse himself with various ques- 
 tions and remarks to four or five passengers, until 
 even Mrs. Blank forgot for awhile that the town 
 was in flames. The last object of his sport was a 
 woman who came along exclaiming: " O it's Mr. 
 Dalby's house I I'm sure it's Mr. Dalby's house ! " 
 Two gentlemen assured her that the fire was far 
 beyond Mr. Dalby's house; but still she went on 
 with her exclamations. When she had passed the 
 door about ten steps Ned permitted me to cover my 
 frozen foot with my boot, and we moved on toward 
 the fire. We soon overtook the woman just men- 
 tioned, who had become somewhat pacified. As 
 Ned came alongside of her, without seeming to no- 
 tice her, he observed: "Poor Dalby! I see his 
 house is gone." 
 
 * ' I said so I " she screamed out ; * ' I knew it ! " 
 and on she went, screaming ten times louder than 
 before. 
 
 As soon as we reached the fire a gentleman in 
 military dress rode up and ordered Ned into the 
 line to hand buckets. Ned stepped in, and the first 
 bucket that was handed to him he raised it very de- 
 liberately to his mouth and began to drink. In a 
 few seconds all on Ned's right were overburdened 
 with buckets, while those on his left were unem- 
 ployed. Terrible was the cursing and clamor, and 
 
268 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 twenty voices at once ordered Ned out of the line. 
 Ned stepped out, and along came the man on horse- 
 back and ordered him in again. 
 
 ''Captain," said Ned, "I am so thirsty that I 
 can do nothing until I get some water, and they 
 will not let me drink in the line." 
 
 '•'• Well," said the captain, '' step in, and I'll see 
 that you get a drink." 
 
 Ned stepped in again, and, receiving the first 
 bucket, began to raise it to his lips ver}^ slowly, 
 when some one hallooed to him to pass on the buck- 
 et, and he brought it down again and handed it on. 
 
 " Why didn't you drink? " said the captain. 
 
 '* Why don't you see they won't let me? " said 
 Ned. 
 
 ** Don't mind what they say; drink, and then go 
 on with your work." 
 
 Ned took the next bucket and commenced rais- 
 ing it as before, when some one again ordered him 
 to pass on the bucket. 
 
 " There," said Ned, turning to the captain with 
 the bucket half raised, "you hear that?" 
 
 " Why blast your eyes," said the captain, " what 
 do you stop for? Drink on and have done with 
 it." 
 
 Ned raised the bucket to his lips and drank, or 
 pretended to drink, until a horse might have been 
 satisfied. 
 
 "x\n't you done? " said the captain, general mu- 
 tiny and complaint beginning to prevail in the line. 
 Without replying, Ned continued to drink. 
 
 '* Why ha'n't you drunk enough?" said the cap- 
 tain, becoming extremely impatient. 
 
NED BRACE. 269 
 
 *' Most," said Ned, letting out a long breath and 
 still holding the bucket near his hps. 
 
 '' Zounds and blood I " cried the captain, " clear 
 yourself; you'll drink an engineful of water." 
 
 Ned left the ranks and went to his lodgings, and 
 the rising sun found us on our way homeward. 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 
 
 THE following is not strictly a '' Georgia Scene," 
 but, as Georgians were the chief actors in it, it 
 may perhaps be introduced with propriety in these 
 sketches. * 
 
 About three and twenty years ago, at the cele- 
 brated school in W n, was formed a debating 
 
 society, composed of young gentlemen between 
 the ages of seventeen and twenty-two. Of the 
 number were two who, rather from uncommon 
 volubility than from any superior gifts or acquire- 
 ments w^hich they possessed over their associates, 
 were, by common consent, placed at the head of 
 the fraternity. At least this was true of one of 
 them; the other certainly had higher claims to his 
 distinction. He was a man of the highest order of 
 intellect, who, though he has since been known 
 throughout the Union as one of the ablest speak- 
 ers in the country, seems to me to have added but 
 little to his powers in debate since he passed his 
 twenty-second year. The name of the first w^as 
 Longworth, and McJ)ermot was the name of the 
 last. They were congenial spirits, w^arm friends, 
 and classmates at the time of which I am speaking. 
 
 It was a rule of the society that every member 
 should speak upon the subjects chosen for discus- 
 sion, or pay a line; and as all the members valued 
 the little stock of change with which they were fur- 
 (270) 
 
THE DEB A TING S O CIE TT. 2 7 1 
 
 nished more than they did their reputation for ora- 
 tory, not a fine had been imposed for a breach of 
 this rule from the organization of the society to this 
 time. 
 
 The subjects for discussion were proposed by 
 the members, and selected by the President,' whose 
 prerogative it was also to arrange the speakers on 
 either side at his pleasure, though, in selecting the 
 subjects, he was influenced not a little by the mem- 
 bers, who gave their opinions freely of those which 
 were offered. 
 
 It w^as just as the time was approaching when 
 most of the members were to leave the society — 
 sojme for college, and some for the busy scenes of 
 life — that McDermot went to share his classmate's 
 bed for a night. In the course of the evening's 
 conversation, the society came upon the tapis. 
 
 "Mac," said Longworth, "wouldn't we have 
 rare sport if we could impose a subject upon the 
 society which has no sense in it, and hear the 
 members speak upon it? " 
 
 "Zounds!" said McDermot, "it would be the 
 finest fun in the world. Let's try it. At all events, 
 we can lose nothing by the experiment." 
 
 A sheet of foolscap was immediately divided be- 
 tween them, and they industriously commenced 
 the difficult task of framing sentences which should 
 possess the yorm of a debatable question without 
 a particle of the stihstance. After an hour's toil, 
 they at length exhibited the fruits of their labor; 
 and, after some reflection and much laughing, they 
 selected, from about thirty subjects proposed, the 
 following as most likely to be received by the so- 
 
272 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ciety: ^^WJiclhef', at public elections^ should the 
 votes of faetton -predominate by internal suggest- 
 ions^ or the bias of jurisprudence f^ 
 
 Longworth was to propose it to the society, and 
 McDermot was to advocate its adoption. As they 
 had every reason to suppose, from the practice of 
 the past, that they would be placed at the head of 
 the list of disputants and on opposite sides, it was 
 agreed between them, in case the experiment 
 should succeed, that they would write off and in- 
 terchange their speeches, in order that each might 
 quote literally from the other, and thus seem^ at 
 least, to understand each other. 
 
 The day at length came for the triumph or de- 
 feat of the project, and several accidental circum- 
 stances conspired to crown it with success. The 
 society had entirely exhausted their subjects, the 
 discussion of the day had been protracted to an 
 unusual length, and the horns of the several board- 
 ing-houses began to sound just as it ended. It was 
 at this auspicious moment that Longw^orth rose and 
 proposed his subject. It was caught at with rapt- 
 ure by McDermot as being decidedly the best that 
 had ever been submitted, and he wondered that 
 none of the members had thought of it before. 
 
 It was no sooner proposed than several members 
 exclaimed that they did not understand it, and de- 
 manded an explanation from the mover. Long- 
 worth replied that there was no time then for ex- 
 planations, but that either himself or Mr. Mc- 
 Dermot would explain it at any other time. 
 
 Upon the credit of the maker and indorser, the 
 subject was accepted; and, under pretense of 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 273 
 
 economizing time (but really to avoid a repetition 
 of the question), Longworth kindly offered to re- 
 cord it for the secretary. This labor ended, he 
 announced that he was prepared for the arrange- 
 ment of the disputants. 
 
 **Put yourself," said the President, ''on the 
 affirmative, and Mr. McDermot on the negative." 
 
 *'The subject," said Longworth, "cannot well 
 be resolved into an affirmative and negative. It 
 consists more properly of two conflicting affirma- 
 tives. I have, therefore, drawn out the heads un- 
 der which the speakers are to be arranged thus: 
 ^Internal Suggestions ; ' 'Bias of ym'isprudence,'' ' ' 
 
 " Then put yourself ' Internal Suggestions,' Mr. 
 McDermot the other side; Mr. Craig on your 
 side, Mr. Pentigall the other side," and so on. 
 
 McDermot and Longvvorth now determined that 
 they would not be seen by any other member of 
 the society during the succeeding week, except at 
 times when explanations could not be asked, or 
 w^hen they were too busy to give them, conse- 
 quentl}' the week passed away without any expla- 
 nations, and the members were summoned to dis- 
 pose of the important subject with no other lights 
 upon it than those which they could collect from 
 its terms. When they assembled, there was man- 
 ifest alarm on the countenances of all but two of 
 them. 
 
 The society was opened in due form, and Mr. 
 Longworth was called on to open the debate. He 
 rose, and proceeded as follows: "Mr. President, 
 the subject selected for this day's discussion is 
 one of vast importance, pervading the profound 
 18 
 
274 yUDdE LONSaTREET. 
 
 depths of pyschology, and embracinir within its 
 comprehensive range all that is interesting in mor- 
 als, government, law, and politics. But, sir, I 
 shall not follow it through all its interesting and 
 diversified ramifications, but will endeavor to de- 
 duce from it those great and fundamental princi- 
 ples which have direct bearing upon the antago- 
 nistic positions of the disputants, confining myself 
 more immediately to its pyschological influence 
 (when exerted) especially upon the votes of faction^ 
 for here is the point upon which the question main- 
 ly turns. In the next place, I shall consider the 
 effects of those * suggestions ' emphatically termed 
 internal when applied to the same subject. And, 
 in the third place, I shall compare these effects 
 with * the bias of jurisprudence ' considered as the 
 only resort in times of popular excitement, for these 
 are supposed to exist by the very terms of the ques- 
 tion. The first head of this arrangement, and in- 
 deed the whole subject of dispute, has already been 
 disposed of by this society. We have discussed 
 the question, 'Are there any innate maxims?' and 
 with that subject and this there is such an intimate 
 affinity that it is impossible to disunite them with- 
 out prostrating the vital energies of both, and in- 
 troducing the wildest disorder and confusion where, 
 by the very nature of things, there exists the most 
 harmonious coincidences, and the most happy and 
 euphonic congenialities. Here, then, might I rest, 
 Mr. President, upon the decision of this society 
 with perfect confidence; but, sir, I am not forced 
 to rely upon the inseparable affinities of the two 
 questions for success in this dispute, obvious as 
 
THE DEBATING S OCTET T. 275 
 
 they must be to every reflecting mind. All his- 
 tory, ancient and modern, furnish examples cor- 
 roborative of the views which I have taken of this 
 deeply interesting subject. By what means did 
 the renowned poets, philosophers, orators, and 
 statesmen of antiquity gain their immortality? 
 Whence did Milton, Shakespeare, Newton, Locke, 
 Watts, Paley, Burke, Chatham, Pitt, Fox, and a 
 host of others whom I might name pluck their 
 never fading laurels ? I answer boldly, and with- 
 out the fear of contradiction, that, though they all 
 reached the temple of fame by different routes, 
 they all passed through the broad vista of * internal 
 suggestions.' The same may be said of Jefferson, 
 Madison, and many other distinguished personages 
 of our own country. I challenge the gentlemen 
 on the other side to produce examples like these 
 in support of their cause." 
 
 Mr. Longworth pressed these profound and log- 
 ical views to a length to which our limits will not 
 permit us to follow him, and which the reader's 
 patience would hardly bear if they would. Per- 
 haps, however, he will bear with us while we give 
 the conclusion of Mr. Longworth's remarks, as it 
 was here that he put forth all his strength: ** Mr. 
 President, let the bias of jurisprudence predomi- 
 nate, and how is it possible (considering it merely 
 as extending to those impulses which may with 
 propriety be termed a bias) — how is it possible for 
 a government to exist whose object is the public 
 good? The marble-hearted marauder might seize 
 the throne of civil authority, and hurl into thral- 
 dom the votaries of rational liberty. Virtue, jus- 
 
276 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 tice, and all the nobler principles of human nature 
 would wither away under the pestilential breath of 
 political faction, and an unnerved constitution be 
 left to the sport of demagogue and parasite. Crash 
 after crash would be heard in quick succession as 
 the strong pillars of the republic give way, and 
 despotism would shout in hellish triumph amid the 
 crumbling ruins. Anarchy would wave her bloody 
 scepter over the devoted land, and the blood-hounds 
 of civil war would lap the crimson gore of our most 
 worthy citizens. The shrieks of women and the 
 screams of children would be drowned amid the 
 clash of swords and the cannon's peal; and lib- 
 erty, manthng her face from the horrid scene, 
 would spread her golden-tinted pinions and wing 
 her flight to some far distant land, never again to 
 revisit our peaceful shores. In vain should we 
 then sigh for the beatific reign of those 'sugges- 
 tions ' which I am proud to acknowledge as pecu- 
 liarly and exclusively ' internal.' " 
 
 Mr. McDermot rose promptly at the call of the 
 President, and proceeded as follows: "Mr. Pres- 
 ident, if I listened unmoved to the very labored 
 appeal to the passions which has just been made, 
 it was not because I am insensible to the powers 
 of eloquence, but because I happen to be blessed 
 with the small measure of sense which is neces- 
 sary to distinguish true eloquence from the wild 
 ravings of an unbridled imagination. Grave and 
 solemn appeals, w^hen ill-timed and misplaced, are 
 apt to excite ridicule; hence it was that I detected 
 myself more than once in open laughter during the 
 most pathetic parts of Mr. Longw^orth's argument, 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETT, 277 
 
 if so it can be called.* In the midst of * crashing 
 pillars,' * crumbling ruins,' * shouting despotism,' 
 * screaming women,' and * flying liberty ' the ques- 
 tion was perpetually recurring to me, What has all 
 this to do with the subject of dispute? I will not 
 follow the example of that gentleman. It shall be 
 my endeavor to clear away the mist which he has 
 thrown arotmd the subject, and to place it before 
 the society in a clear, intelligible point of view; 
 for I must say that, though his speech bears strong 
 marks of the fen [sarcastically], it has but few 
 marks of sober reflection. Some of it, I confess, 
 is very intelligible and very plausible ; but most of 
 it, I boldly assert, no man living can comprehend. 
 ' I mention this for the edification of that gentleman, 
 who is usually clear and forcible, to teach him that 
 he is most successful when he labors least. Mr. 
 President, the gentleman in opening the debate 
 stated that the question was one of vast impor- 
 tance, pervading the profound depths of pyschol- 
 ogy, and embracing within its ample range the 
 whole circle of arts and sciences ; and really, sir, 
 he has verified his statement, for he has extended 
 it over the whole moral and physical world. But, 
 Mr. President, I take leave to differ from the gen- 
 tleman at the very threshold of his remarks. The 
 subject is one which is confined within very nar- 
 row limits. It extends no farther than to the elect- 
 ive franchise, and is not even commensurate with 
 this important privilege, for it stops short at the 
 
 * This was extemporaneous and well conceived, for Mr. Mc- 
 Dermot had not played his part with becoming gravity. 
 
278 yuUOE LONCS^REET. 
 
 vote of faction. In this point of light the subject 
 comes within the grasp of the most common intel- 
 lect: it is plain, simple, natural, and intelligible. 
 Thus viewing it, Mr. President, where does the 
 gentleman find in it, or in all nature besides, the 
 original of the dismal picture which he has pre- 
 sented to the society? It loses all its interest, and 
 becomes supremely ridiculous. Having thus, Mr. 
 President, divested the subject of all obscurit}^ 
 having reduced it to those few elements with which 
 we are all familiar, I proceed to make a few de- 
 ductions from the premises, which seem to me in- 
 evitable and decisive of the question. I lay it down 
 as a self-evident proposition that faction, in all 
 its forms, is hideous; and I maintain, with equal 
 confidence that it never has been nor never will be 
 restrained by those suggestions which the gentleman 
 emphatically terms into'nal. No, sir, nothing short 
 of the bias, and the very strong bias, too, of juris- 
 prudence, or the potent energies of the sword, can 
 restrain it. But, sir, I shall here, perhaps, be asked 
 whether there is not a very wide difference between 
 a turbulent, lawless faction and the vote of faction. 
 Most unquestionably there is; and to this distinc- 
 tion I shall presently advert, and demonstrably 
 prove that it is a distinction which makes alto- 
 gether in our favor." 
 
 Thus did Mr. McDermot continue to dissect and 
 expose his adversary's argument in the most clear, 
 conclusive, and masterly manner at considerable 
 length. But we cannot deal more favorably b}^ 
 him than we have dealt by Mr. Longworth. We 
 must, therefore, dismiss him after we shall have 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETT, 279 
 
 given the reader his concluding remarks. They 
 were as follows: ** Let us now suppose Mr. Long- 
 worth's principles brought to the test of experi- 
 ment. Let us suppose his language addressed to 
 all mankind: 'We close the temples of justice as 
 useless; we burn our codes of laws as worthless; 
 and we substitute in their places the more valuable 
 restraints of internal suggestions. Thieves, invade 
 not your neighbor's property; if you do, you will 
 be arraigned before the august tribunal of con- 
 science. Robbers, stay your lawless hand, or you 
 will be visited with the tremendous penalties of 
 -pyschology. Murderers, spare the blood of your 
 fellow-creatures, or you will be exposed to the ex- 
 cruciating tortures of innate maxims, when it shall 
 be discovered that there are any.^ Mr. President, 
 could there be a broader license to crime than this? 
 Could a better plan be devised for dissolving the 
 bands of civil society? It requires not the gift of 
 prophecy to foresee the consequences of these 
 novel and monstrous principles. The strong would 
 tyrannize over the weak ; the poor would plunder 
 the rich; the servant would rise above the master; 
 the drones of society would fatten upon the hard 
 earnings of the industrious. Indeed, sir, industry 
 would soon desert the land, for it would have 
 neither reward nor encouragement. Commerce 
 would cease ; arts and sciences would languish ; 
 all the sacred relations would be dissolved; and 
 scenes of havoc, dissolution, and death ensue, 
 such as never will visit it until mankind learn to 
 repose their destinies upon ' those suggestions em- 
 phatically termed internal,^ From all these evils 
 
28o JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 there is a secure retreat behind the brazen walls of 
 the *bias of jurisprudence.' " 
 
 The gentleman who was next called on to en- 
 gage in the debate was John Craig, a gentleman 
 of good hard sense, but who was utterly incompe- 
 tent to say a word upon a subject which he did 
 not understand. He proceeded thus: " Mr. Pres- 
 ident, when this subject was proposed, I candidly 
 confessed I did not understand it, and I was in- 
 formed by Mr. Longworth and Mr. McDermot 
 that either of them would explain it any leisure 
 moment. But, sir, they seem to have taken very 
 good care from that time to this to have no leisure 
 moment. I have inquired of both of them repeat- 
 edly for an explanation, but they were always too 
 busy to talk about it. Well, sir, as it was proposed 
 by Mr. Longworth, I thought he would certainly 
 explain it in his speech, but I understood no more 
 of his speech than I did of the subject. Well, sir, 
 I thought I should certainly learn something from 
 Mr. McDermot, especially as he promised, at the 
 commencement of his speech, to clear away the 
 mist that Mr. Longworth had thrown about the 
 subject, and to place it in a clear, intelligible point 
 of light. But, sir, the only difference between his 
 speech and Mr. Longworth' s is that it was not 
 quite as flighty as Mr. Longworth's. I couldn't 
 understand head nor tail of it. At one time they 
 seemed to argue the question as if it w^ere this : ' Is 
 it better to have law or no law?' At another as 
 though it w^ere : * Should faction be governed by 
 lav/ or be left to their own consciences?' But 
 most of the time they argued it as if it were just 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETT. 28 1 
 
 what it seems to be : a sentence without sense or 
 meaning. But, sir, I suppose its obscurity is ow- 
 ing to my dullness of apprehension, for they ap- 
 peared to argue it with great earnestness and feel- 
 ing as if they understood it. I shall put my 
 interpretation upon it, Mr. President, and argue it 
 accordingly. ' Whether at public elections' — that 
 is, for members of Congress, members of the Leg- 
 islature, etc. — ' should the votes of faction' — I don't 
 know ^\v2X faction has got to do with, and there- 
 fore I shall throw it out — ' should the votes fredom- 
 inate by internal suggestions or the bias? ' I don't 
 know what the article is put in here for. It seems 
 to me it ought to be, be biased by 'jurisprudence ' 
 or law. In short, Mr. President, I understand the 
 question to be, 'Should a man vote as he pleases, 
 or should the law say how he should vote?' " 
 
 Here Mr. Longworth rose and observed that, 
 though Mr. Craig was on his side, he felt it due to 
 their adversaries to state that this was not a true 
 exposition of the subject; that this exposition set- 
 tled the question at once on his side, for nobody 
 would for a moment contend that the law should 
 declare how men should vote ; that unless^ it be 
 confined to the vote of faction and the bias of 
 jurisprudence it was no subject at all. To all this 
 Mr. McDermot signified his unqualified approba- 
 tion, and seemed pleased' with the candor of his 
 opponent. 
 
 *' Well," said Mr. Craig, " I thought it was im- 
 possible that any one should propose such a ques- 
 tion as that to the society; but will Mr. Long- 
 worth tell us, if it does not mean that, what it does 
 
282 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 mean, for I don't see what great change is made 
 in it by his explanation." 
 
 Mr. Longworth repHed that if the remarks which 
 he had just made, and his argument had not fully 
 explained the subject to Mr. Craig, he feared it 
 would be out of his power to explain it. 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Craig, '* I'll pay my fine, for 
 I don't understand a word of it." 
 
 The next one summoned to the debate was Mr. 
 Pentigall. Mr. Pentigall was one of those who 
 would never acknowledge his ignorance of any 
 thing which any person else understood; and that 
 Longworth and McDermot were both masters of 
 the subject was clear both from their fluency and 
 seriousness. He therefore determined to under- 
 stand it at all hazards, consequently he arose at the 
 President's command with considerable self-con- 
 fidence. I regret, however, that it is impossible to 
 commit Mr. Pentigall' s manner to paper, without 
 which his remarks lose nearly all their interest. 
 He was a tall, handsome man; a little theatric in 
 his manner, rapid in his delivery, and singular in 
 his pronunciation. He gave to the e and / of our 
 language the sound of u, at least his peculiar in- 
 tonations of voice seemed to give them that sound, 
 and his rapidity of utterance seemed to change the 
 termination "tion" into "ah." With all his pe- 
 culiarities, however, he was a fine fellow. If he 
 was ambitious, he was not invidious ; and he pos- 
 sessed an amicable disposition. He proceeded as 
 follows: '*Mr. President, this internal suggestion 
 (which has been so eloquently discussed by Mr. 
 Longworth) and the bias of jurisprudence (which 
 
THE DEBATING SOCIETT. 283 
 
 has been so ably advocated by Mr. McDermot) — 
 hem I — Mr. President, in order to fix the line of 
 demarkation between — between — ah— the internal 
 suggestion and the bias of jurisprudence— Mr. 
 President, I think, sir, that— ah— the subject^ must 
 be confined to the vote of faction and the bias of 
 jurisprudence." 
 
 Here Mr. Pentigall clapped his right hand to his 
 forehead as though he had that moment heard some 
 overpowering news ; and, after maintaining this po- 
 sition for about the space of ten seconds ^ he slowly 
 withdrew his hand, gave his head a slight incUna- 
 tion to the right, raised his eyes to the President 
 as if just awakening from a trance, and, with a 
 voice of the most hopeless despair, concluded with: 
 *'I don't understand the subject, Muster Prusi- 
 dunt.'* 
 
 The rest of the members on both sides submit- 
 ted to be fined rather than attempt the knotty sub- 
 ject, but by common consent the penal rule was 
 dispensed with. Nothing now remained to close 
 the exercises but the decision of the Chair. 
 
 The President, John Nuble, was a young man 
 not unlike Craig in his turn of mind, though he 
 possessed an intellect a Httle more sprightly than 
 Craig's. His decision was short. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said he, "I do not understand 
 the subject. This," continued he (pulHng out his 
 knife, and pointing to the silvered or cross side of 
 it), '* is ' Internal Suggestions,' and this [pointing 
 to the other or file side] is * Bias of Jurispru- 
 dence.' " So saying, he threw up his knife; and 
 upon its fall determined that *' Internal Sugges- 
 
284 JUDGE LONG^TREET. 
 
 tions " had got it, and ordered the decision to be 
 registered accordingly. 
 
 It is worthy of note that, in their zeal to accom- 
 phsh their purpose, Longworth and McDermot 
 forgot to destroy the list of subjects from which 
 they had selected the one so often mentioned; and 
 one of these lists containing the subject discussed, 
 with a number more like it, was picked up by Mr. 
 Craig, who made a public exhibition of it, threat- 
 ening to arraign the conspirators before the society 
 for contempt. But, as the parting hour was at 
 hand, he overlooked it with the rest of the brother- 
 hood, and often laughed heartily at the trick. 
 
 Hall. 
 
THE SONG. 
 
 IT is not to avoid the malediction of Shakespeare 
 upon such '*as have not music in themselves, 
 and are not charmed with the concord of sweet 
 sounds," that I profess to be fond of music, but 
 because I am, in truth, extravagantly fond of it. 
 But I am not fond of French music ; and as for the 
 Itahan I think that any one who will dare to inflict 
 it upon an American ear ought to be sent to the 
 penitentiary without a trial. It is true that some of 
 the simple, national French airs are very fine; but 
 there is not one in a thousand Italian tunes, simple 
 or compound, which is not 7nanslaughter . The 
 German compositions are decidedly the best from 
 the continent of Europe; but even these are, of 
 late, partaking so much of the vices of France and 
 Italy that they have become scarcely sufferable. 
 As yet, however, they may be safely admitted into 
 a land of liberty and sense. Scotland has escaped 
 the corruptions which have crept into the empire 
 of music, and, consequently, her music recom- 
 mends itself with irresistible charms to every ear 
 which is not vitiated by the senseless rattle of the 
 Continent. Ireland is a little more contaminated; 
 but still her compositions retain enough of their 
 primitive simplicity and sweetness to entitle them 
 to the patronage of all who would cultivate a cor- 
 
 (285) 
 
286 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 rect taste in this interesting department of the fine 
 arts. I would not be understood as speaking here 
 without any Hmitations or restrictions, but I do 
 maintain that with some few exceptions all of the 
 soul of music which is now left in the world is to 
 be found in Scotland or Ireland. 
 
 But Germans, Frenchmen, and Italians are de- 
 cidedly the best — that is, the most expert — perform- 
 ers in the world. They perform all over the world, 
 and in order to exhibit themselves to the best ad- 
 vantage they select the most difficult and compli- 
 cated pieces. The people at large presume that 
 the best performers must be the best judges of 
 music and must make the best selections; they 
 therefore forego the trouble of forming an opinion 
 of their own and pin their faith upon the decisions 
 or rather the practice of the amateurs. It was 
 somehow in this way, I presume, that the fashion- 
 able music of the day first obtained currency. 
 Having become prevalent, it has become tolerable, 
 just as has the use of tobacco or ardent spirits. 
 And while upon this head I would earnestly recom- 
 mend to the friends of reform in our favored coun- 
 try to establish an "Anti-Mad Music Society," in 
 order to suppress, if possible, the cruelties of our 
 modern musical entertaiiwients. 
 
 If the instrumental music of France and Italy be 
 bad, their vocal music is, if possible, a thousand 
 times worse. Neither the English nortJic Georgia 
 language furnishes me with a term expressive of 
 the horrors of a French or Italian song as it is 
 agonized forth by one of their professed singers. 
 The law should make it justifiable homicide in any 
 
THE SONG. 287 
 
 man to kill an Italian in the very act of inflicting an 
 il fcnseroso upon a refined American ear. 
 
 And yet, with ah the other European abomina- 
 tions which have crept into our highly favored 
 country, the French and Italian style of singing and 
 playing has made its way hither; and it is not un- 
 common to hear our boarding-school misses piping 
 away, not merely in the style, but in the very lan- 
 guage of these nations. This I can bear very well 
 if there happen to be a Frenchman or an Italian 
 present, because I know that he suffers more from 
 the words than I do from the music, for I confess 
 that upon such occasions I feel something of the 
 savage malignity which visits the sins of a nation 
 upon any of its citizens. But it most frequently 
 happens that I am put to the tortures of which I 
 have been speaking without this mitigation. It was 
 
 thus with me a few evenings ago at Mrs. B 's 
 
 party. 
 
 Tea had been disposed of, and the nonsensical 
 chitchat of such occasions had begun to flag,w^hen 
 I invited Miss Mary Williams to the piano. She 
 arose promptly at my request, without any affected 
 airs and with no other apology than that '' she felt 
 some diffidence at playing in the presence of Miss 
 Crumf:' The piano was an admirable one, and 
 its tones were exquisitely fine. Mary seated her- 
 self at it and after a short but beautiful prelude she 
 commenced one of Burns's plaintive songs to a 
 tune which was new to me, but which was obvious- 
 ly from the poet's own land, and by one who felt 
 the inspiration of his verse. The composer and 
 the poet w^ere both honored by the performer. 
 
288 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 Mary's voice was inimitably fine. Her enunciation 
 was clear and distinct, with just emphasis enough 
 to give the verse its appropriate expression without 
 interrupting the melody of the music; and her 
 modulations were perfect. 
 
 She had closed and was in the act of risincf be- 
 fore I awoke from the delightful reverie into which 
 she had lulled me. I arrested her, however, and 
 insisted upon her proceeding; when she gave me 
 one of Allan Ramsay's best, to measure equally ap- 
 propriate. This she followed with Tannahill's 
 '' Gloomy Winter's now Awa'," and was again re- 
 tiring, when my friend Hall observed : " See, Miss 
 Mary, you've brought a tear to Mr. Baldwin's eye, 
 and 3^ou must not cease until you chase it away 
 with some lively air." My friend was right. The 
 touching pathos of Mar3^'s voice, conspiring with a 
 train of reflections which the song inspired, had 
 really brought me to tears. I thought of poor Tan- 
 nahill's fate. He was the victim of a book-seller's 
 stupidity. With men of taste and letters his fugi- 
 tive pieces, particularly his lyrics, had gained him 
 a well-deserved reputation ; but he was not exempt 
 from the common lot of authors. He was attacked 
 by the ignorant and the invidious; and, with the 
 hopeless design of silencing these, he pre- 
 pared a volume or piore of his poems with great 
 care and sent them to a book-seller for publication. 
 After the lapse of several weeks they were returned 
 without a compliment or an offer for them. T'he 
 mortification and disappointment were too severe 
 for his reason. It deserted him, and soon after he 
 was found dead in a tunnel of the burn which had 
 
THE SONG. 289 
 
 been the scene of one of his earliest songs. Un- 
 fortunately, in his madness he destroyed his favor- 
 ite works. 
 
 Such was the train of reflection from which 
 Mary was. kind enough, at the request of my friend, 
 to relieve me by a lively Irish air. Had it not been 
 admirably selected, I could hardly have borne the 
 transition. But there was enough of softening mel- 
 ody, mingled with the sprightliness of the air, to lead 
 me gently to a gayer mood, in which she left me. 
 
 In the meantime, most of the young ladies and 
 gentlemen had formed a circle around Miss Aure- 
 lia Emma Theodosia Augusta Crump, and were 
 earnestly engaged in pressing her to play. One 
 young lady even went so far as to drop on her 
 knees before her, and in this posture to beseech 
 ** her dear Augusta just to play the delightful over- 
 ture of ," something that sounded to me like 
 
 *' Blaze in the frets." This petition was urged with 
 such a melting sweetness of voice, such a bewitch- 
 ing leer at the gentlemen, and such a theatric heave 
 of the bosom, that it threw the young gentlemen 
 into transports. Hall was rude enough to whisper 
 in my ear *' that he thought it indelicate to expose 
 an unmantled bosom to a perpendicular view of a 
 large company; " and he muttered something about 
 ** repulican simplicity," I knew not exactly what. 
 But I assured him the fair petitioner was so over- 
 come by her solicitude for the overture that she 
 thought of nothing else, and was wholly uncon- 
 scious that there was a gendeman in the room. As 
 to his insinuation about '* points of view," I con- 
 vinced him by an easy argument that it was wholly 
 19 
 
2QO JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 unfounded; for that this was the very point of 
 view in which an exposed neck must always be 
 seen, while men continue taller than women; and 
 that as the young lady must have been apprised of 
 this, she would hardly take so much trouble for 
 nothing. But to return. 
 
 Miss Crump was inexorable. She declared that 
 she was entirely out of practice. " She scarcely 
 ever touched the piano; " "Mamma was always 
 scolding her for giving so much of her time to 
 French and Italian, and neglecting her music and 
 painting; but she told mamma the other day that 
 it really was so irksome to her to quit Racine and 
 Dante, and go to thrumming upon the piano, that 
 but for the obligations of filial obedience, she did 
 not think she could ever touch it again." 
 
 Here Mrs. Crump was kind enough, the merest 
 accident in the world, to interpose, and to relieve 
 the company from further anxiety. "Augusta, my 
 dear," said she, " go and play a tune or two; the 
 company will excuse your hoarseness." 
 
 Miss Crump rose immediately at her mother's 
 bidding, and moved to the piano, accompanied by 
 a large group of smiling faces. 
 
 "Poor child !" said Mrs. Crump as she went for- 
 ward. "She is frii>;htened to death. I wish Au- 
 gusta could overcome her dillidence." 
 
 Miss Crump was educated at Philadelphia; she 
 had been taught to sing by Madame Piggisqueaki, 
 who was a pupil of Ma'm'selle Crokifroggietta, 
 who had sung with Madame Catalani ; and she had 
 taken lessons on the piano from Signor Buzzifussi, 
 who had played with Paganini. 
 
THE SONG. 291 
 
 She seated herself at the piano, rocked to the 
 right, then to the left, leaned forward, then back- 
 ward, and began. She placed her right hand about 
 midway the keys, and her left about two octaves 
 below it. She now put off to the right in a brisk 
 canter up the treble notes, and the left after it. 
 The left then led the way back, and the right pur- 
 sued it in like manner. The right turned and re- 
 peated its first movement; but the left outran it 
 this time, hopped over it, and flung it entirely off 
 the track. It came in again, however, behind the 
 left on its return, and passed it in the same style. 
 They now became highly incensed at each other, 
 and met furiously on the middle ground. Here a 
 most awful conflict ensued for about the space of 
 ten seconds, when the right whipped off all of a 
 sudden, as I thought, fairly vanquished. But I was 
 in the error against which Jack Randolph cautions 
 us: "It had only fallen back to a stronger posi- 
 tion." It mounted upon two black keys, and com- 
 menced the note of a rattlesnake. This had a 
 wonderful effect upon the left, and placed the doc- 
 trine of "snake charming" beyond dispute. The 
 left rushed furiously toward it repeatedly, but 
 seemed invariably panic-struck when it came within 
 six keys of it, and as invariably retired wath a tre- 
 mendous roaring down the base keys. It contin- 
 ued its assaults sometimes b}^ the way of the nat- 
 urals, sometimes by the way of the sharps, and 
 sometimes by a zigzag through both ; but all its at- 
 tempts to dislodge the right from its stronghold 
 proving ineffectual, it came close»up to its adver- 
 sary and expired. 
 
292 JUDCrE LONdSTREET. 
 
 Any one, or rather no one, can imagine what 
 kind of noises the piano gave forth during the con- 
 flict. Certain it is no one can describe them, and, 
 therefore, I shall not att-empt it. 
 
 The battle ended. Miss Augusta moved as though 
 she would have arisen, butthis was protested against 
 by a number of voices at once: *'One song, my 
 dear Aurelia," said Miss Small; '*you must sing 
 that sweet little French air you used to sing in 
 Philadelphia, and which Madame Piggisqueaki was 
 so fond of." 
 
 Miss Augusta looked pitifully at her mamma, and 
 her mamma looked *' sinfx " at Miss Aun^usta, ac- 
 cordmgly she squared herself for a song. 
 
 She brought her hands to the campus this time in 
 fine style ; they seemed now to be perfectly recon- 
 ciled to each other. They commenced a kind of 
 colloquy; the right whispering treble very softly, 
 and the left responding base very loudly. The 
 conference had been kept up until I began to de- 
 sire a change of the subject, when my ear caught, 
 indistinctly, some very curious sounds, which ap- 
 peared to proceed from the lips of Miss Augusta. 
 They seemed to be compounded of a dry cough, a 
 grunt, a hiccough, and a whisper; and they were 
 introduced, it appeared to me, as interpreters be- 
 tween the right and left. Things progressed in 
 this way for about the space of fifteen seconds, 
 when I happened to direct my attention to Mr. 
 Jenkins, from Philadelphia. His e3'es were closed, 
 his head rolled gracefully from side to side ; a beam 
 of heavenly conrplacency rested upon his counte- 
 nance ; and his whole man gave irresistible demon- 
 
2UIE SONG 
 
 293 
 
 stration that Miss Crump's music made him feci 
 good all over. I had just turned from the contempla- 
 tion of Mr. Jenkins's transports, to see whether I 
 could extract from the performance any thing in- 
 telligible, when Miss Crump made a fly-catching 
 grab at half a dozen keys in a row, and at the same 
 instant she fetched a long, dunghill-cock crow, at 
 the conclusion of which she grabbed as many keys 
 with the left. This came over Jenkins like a warm 
 bath, and over me like a rake of bamboo briers. 
 
 My nerves had not recovered from this shock 
 before Miss Augusta repeated the movement, and 
 accompanied it with a squall of a pinched cat. 
 This threw me into an ague fit; but, from respect 
 to the performer, I maintained my position. She 
 now made a third grasp with the right, boxed the 
 faces of six keys in a row with the left, and at the 
 same time raised one of the most unearthly howls 
 that ever issued from the throat of a human beinjx- 
 
 o 
 
 This seemed the signal for universal uproar and 
 destruction. She now threw away all reserve, and 
 charged the piano with her whole force. She 
 boxed it, she clawed it, she raked it, she scraped 
 it. Her neck-vein swelled, her chin flew up, her 
 face flushed, her eye glared, her bosom heaved; 
 she screamed, she howled, she yelled, cackled, 
 and was in the act of dwelling upon the note 
 of a screech-owl when I took the St. Vitus's 
 dance and rushed out of the room. *' Good Lord," 
 said a by-stander, *'If this be her singings what 
 must her crying be?" As I reached the door I 
 heard a voice exclaim; " By heavens ! she's the 
 most enchanting performer I ever heard in my 
 
294 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 life ! " I turned to see who was the author of this 
 ill-timed compliment; and who should it be but 
 Nick Truck, from Lincoln, who seven years be- 
 fore was dancing " 'Possum up the Gum-tree " in 
 the chimney-cojner of his father's kitchen. Nick 
 had entered the counting-room of a merchant in 
 Charleston some five or six years before ; had been 
 sent out as supercargo of a vessel to Bordeaux, 
 and while the vessel was delivering one cargo and 
 taking in another had contracted a wonderful rel- 
 ish for French music. 
 
 As for myself, I went home in convulsions, took 
 sixty drops of laudanum and fell asleep. I dreamed 
 that I was in a beautiful cit}- , the streets of which 
 intersected each other at right angles ; that the 
 birds of the air and beasts of the forest had gath- 
 ered there for battle, the former led on by a 
 Frenchman, the latter by an Italian; that I was 
 looking on their movements toward each other, 
 when I heard the cry of *' Hecate is coming! " I 
 turned my eye to the north-east and saw a female 
 flying through the air toward the city, and distinct- 
 ly recognized in her the features of Miss Crump. 
 I took the alarm and was making my escape, 
 when she gave command for the beasts and the 
 birds to fall on me. They did so, and with all 
 the noise of the animal world, were in the act of 
 tearing me to pieces, when I was waked by the 
 stepping of Ilall, m}' room-mate, into bed. " O 
 my dear sir," exclaimed I, "you have waked me 
 from a horrible dream. What o'clock is it? " 
 
 " Ten minutes after 12," said he. 
 
 *'And where have you been to this late hour? " 
 
THE SONG. 295 
 
 " I have just returned from the party." 
 
 "And what kept you so late?" 
 
 "Why, I dishked to retire while Miss Crump 
 was playing." 
 
 "In mercy's name," said I, "is she playing 
 yet?" 
 
 " Yes," said he; "I had to leave her playing at 
 last." 
 
 "And where was Jenkins? " 
 
 " He was there, still m ecstacies, and urging her 
 to play on." 
 
 "And where was Truck? " 
 
 " He was asleep." 
 
 "And what was she playing?" 
 
 "An Itahan — " 
 
 Here I swooned and heard no more. 
 
 Baldwin. 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH, 
 
 SHOOTING-MATCHES are probably nearly coeval 
 with the colonization of Georgia. They are 
 still common throughout the Southern States, 
 though they are not as common as they were twen- 
 ty-five or thirty 3^ears ago. Chance led me to one 
 about a year ago. I was traveling in one of the 
 north-eastern counties when I overtook a swarthy, 
 bright-eyed, smirky little fellow riding a small 
 pony and bearing on his shoulder a long, heavy 
 rifle, which, judging from its looks, I should say 
 had done service in Morgan's corps. 
 
 * * Good-morning, sir ! " said I, reining up my horse 
 as I came beside him. 
 
 ''How goes it, stranger?" said he, with a tone 
 of independence and self-confidence that awakened 
 my curiosity to know a little of his character. 
 
 ''Going driving?" inquired I. 
 
 " Not exactly," replied he, surveying my horse 
 with a quizzical smile; '*I haven't been a-driving 
 by myself ioY ayear or two; and my nose has got 
 so bad lately I can't carry a cold trail without 
 hounds to help me.''' 
 
 Alone and without hounds as he was, the ques- 
 tion was rather a silly one, but it answered the pur- 
 pose for which it was put, which was only to draw 
 him into conversation, and I proceeded to make as 
 decent a retreat as I could. 
 (296) 
 
THE SIIO O TING- MA TCH. 297 
 
 "I didn't know," said I, ''but that you were 
 going to meet the huntsmen, or going to your 
 stand." 
 
 "Ah, sure enough," rejoined he, "that motith^ 
 a bee, as the old woman said when she killed a 
 wasp. It seems to me I ought to know you." 
 
 " Well, if you ought, why don't you? " 
 
 " What 7noict your name be ? " 
 
 " It might be any thing," said I, with borrowed 
 wit, for I knew my man, and knew what kind of 
 conversation would please him most. 
 
 " Well, what is it, then? " 
 
 " It is Hall," said I; "but you know it might as 
 well have been anything else." 
 
 " Pretty digging! " said he. "I find you're not 
 the fool I took you to be; so here's to a better ac- 
 quaintance with you." 
 
 "With all my heart," returned I; "but you 
 must be as clever as I've been and give me your 
 name." 
 
 "To be sure I will, my old coon; take it, take 
 it, and welcome. Any thing else about me you'd 
 like to have?" 
 
 "No," said I, "there's nothing else about you 
 worth having." 
 
 " O yes there is, stranger! Do you see this?" 
 holding up his ponderous rifle with an ease that as- 
 tonished me. "If you will go with me to the 
 shooting-match and see me knock out the bull's- 
 eye with her a few times you'll agree the old Soap- 
 stick' s worth something when Billey Curlew puts 
 his shoulder to her." 
 
 This short sentence was replete with information 
 
298 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 to me. It taught me that my companion was Billy 
 Curlew; that he was going to a shooting-maich ; 
 that he called his rifle the Soap-sticky and that he 
 was very confident of winning beef with her; or, 
 which is nearly but not quite the same thing, driv- 
 in(y- the cross with her. 
 
 ''Well," said I, "if the shooting-match is not 
 too far out of my way, I'll go to it with pleasure." 
 
 " Unless your way lies through the woods from 
 here," said Billy, "it'll not be much out of your 
 way; for it's only a mile ahead of us, and there is 
 no other road for you to take till you get there, and 
 as that thing you're riding in an't well suited to fast 
 traveling among brushy knobs I reckon you won't 
 lose much by going b}^ I reckon you hardly ever 
 was at a shooting-match, stranger, from the cut of 
 your coat? " 
 
 *' O yes," returned I, " many a time. I won 
 beef at one when I was hardly old enough to hold 
 a shot-gun off-hand." 
 
 '^ Children don't go to shooting-matches about 
 here," said he, with a smile of incredulity. "I 
 never heard of but one that did, and he was a little 
 swinge cat. He was born a-shooting, and killed 
 squirrels before he was weaned." 
 
 " Nor did / ever hear of but one," replied I, 
 '* and that one was myself." 
 
 "And where did you win beef so young, stran- 
 ger?" 
 
 "At Berry Adams's." 
 
 "Why stop, stranger, let me look at you good! 
 Is your name Lyman Hall? " 
 
 "The very same," said I. 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 299 
 
 ''Well, dang my buttons, if you an't the very 
 boy my daddy used to tell me about, I was too 
 young to recollect you myself; but I've heard dad- 
 dy talk about you many a time. I believe mam- 
 my's got a neck-handkerchief now that daddy won 
 on your shooting at Pollen Reid's store when you 
 were hardly knee high. Come along, Lyman, and 
 I'll go my death upon you at the shooting-match, 
 with the old ' wSoap-stick ' at your shoulder." 
 
 ''Ah, Billy," said I, ''the old 'Soap-stick' will 
 do much better at your own shoulder. It was my 
 mother s notion that sent me to the shooting-match 
 at Berry Adams's, and to tell the honest truth, it 
 was altogether a chance shot that made me win 
 beef; but that wasn't generally known, and most 
 everybody believed that I was carried there on ac- 
 count of my skill in shooting; and my fame was 
 spread far and wide, I well remember. I remem- 
 ber too, perfectly well, your father's bet on me at 
 the store. He was at the shooting-match, and 
 nothing could make him believe but that I was a 
 great shot with a rifle as well as a shot-gun. Bet 
 on me he would, in spite of all I could say, though 
 I assured him that I had never shot a rifle in my 
 life. It so happened, too, that there were but two 
 bullets, or rather a bullet and a half; and so con- 
 fident was your father in my skill that he made me 
 shoot the half -bullet; and strange to tell, byarToth- 
 er chance shot, I like to have drove the cross and 
 won his bet." 
 
 " Now I know you're the very chap, for I heard 
 daddy tell that very thing about the half-bullet. 
 Don't say any thing about it, Lyman, and darn my 
 
300 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 old shoes if I don't tare the Hnt off the boys with 
 you at the shooting-match.. They'll never 'spect 
 such a looking man as you are of knowing any thing 
 about a rifle. I'll risk your chance shots." 
 
 I soon discovered that the father had eaten sour 
 grapes, and the son's teeth wexe on edge ; for Billy 
 was just as incorrigibly obstinate in his belief of 
 my dexterity with a rifle as his father had been be- 
 fore him. 
 
 We soon reached the place appointed for the 
 shooting-match. It went by the name of Sims's 
 Cross-roads, because here two roads intersected 
 each other, and because from the time that the first 
 had been laid out Archibald Sims had resided there. 
 Archibald had been a justice of the peace in his 
 day (and where is the man of his age in Georgia 
 who has not?) ; consequently he was called ^ Squh'c 
 Sims. It is the custom in this State when a man 
 has once acquired a title, civil or militar}^ to force 
 it upon him as long as he lives; hence the count- 
 less number of titled personages who are intro- 
 duced in these sketches. 
 
 We stopped at the 'Squire's door. Billy hastily 
 dismounted, gave me the shake of the hand which 
 he had been reluctantly reserving for a mile back, 
 and leading me up to the 'Squu'e thus introduced 
 me: " Uncle Archy, this is Lyman Hall, and for 
 all you see him in these fine clothes he's a sivinge 
 cat, a darn sight cleverer fellow than he looks to 
 be. Wait till you see him lift the old ' Soap- 
 stick ' and draw a bead upon the bull's-eye. You 
 gwine to see fun here to-day. Don't say nothing 
 about it." 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 
 
 301 
 
 '*Well, Mr. Swinge Cat," said the 'Squire, 
 ** here's to a better acquaintance with you," offer- 
 ing me his hand. 
 
 '* How goes it. Uncle Archy ? " said I, taking his 
 hand warmly (for I am always free and easy with 
 those who are so with me, and in this course I 
 rarely fail to please). '' How's the old woman? " 
 
 "Egad," said the 'Squire, chuckling, "there 
 you're too hard for me ; for she died two and twen- 
 ty years ago, and I haven't heard a word from her 
 since." 
 
 " What! and you never married again? " 
 
 '* Never, as God's my judge ! " (a solemn assev- 
 eration, truly, upon so light a subject). 
 
 '' Well, that's not my fault." 
 
 *' No, nor it's not mine nither," said the 'Squire. 
 
 Here we were interrupted by the cry of another 
 Ransy Sniffle. "Hello, here ! All 3^ou as wish to 
 put in for the shoot'n'-match, come on here! for 
 the putt'n' in's riddy to begin." 
 
 About sixty persons, including mere spectators, 
 had collected, the most of whom were more or less 
 obedient to the call of Mealy Whitecotton, for that 
 was the name of the self-constituted commander in 
 chief. Some hastened and some loitered, as they 
 desired to be first or last on the list, for they shoot 
 in the order in which their names are entered. 
 
 The beef was not present, nor is it ever upon 
 such occasions ; but several of the company had 
 seen it who all concurred in the opinion that it was 
 a good beef and well worth the price that was set 
 upon it — eleven dollars. A general inquiry ran 
 round in order to form some opinion as to the num- 
 
302 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 ber of shots that-would be taken, for of course the 
 price of a shot is cheapened in proportion to the 
 increase of that number. It was soon ascertained 
 that not more than twenty persons would take 
 chances, but these twenty agreed to take the num- 
 ber of shots at twenty-five cents each. 
 
 The competitors now began to give in their names, 
 some for one, some for two, three, and a few for 
 as many as four shots. 
 
 Billy Curlew hung back to the last, and when 
 the list was offered him five shots remained undis- 
 posed of. 
 
 *' How many shots left? " inquired Billy. 
 
 ** Five," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, I'll take 'em all. Put down four shots 
 to me and one to Lyman Hall, paid for by William 
 Curlew." 
 
 I was thunder-struck; not at his proposition to 
 pay for my shot, because I knew that Billy meant 
 it as a token of friendship, and he would liave been 
 hurt if I had refused to let him do me this favor, 
 but at the unexpected announcement of my name 
 as a competitor for beef at least one hundred miles 
 from the place of my residence. I was prepared 
 for a challenge from Billy to some of his neighbors 
 for 2i private match upon me, but not for this. 
 
 I therefore protested against his putting in for 
 me, and urged every reason to dissuade him from 
 it that I could without wounding his feelings. 
 
 ** Put it down ! " said Billy, with the authority of 
 an emperor, and with a look that spoke volumes 
 intelligible to every by-stander. " Reckon I don't 
 know what I'm about? " Then wheeling off, and 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 303 
 
 muttering in an under, self-confident tone, " Dang 
 old Roper," continued he, " if he don't knock that 
 cross to the north corner of creation and back again 
 before a cat can lick her foot." 
 
 Had I been king of the cat tribe they could not 
 have regarded me with more curious attention than 
 did the whole company from this moment. Every 
 inch of me was examined with the nicest scrutiny, 
 and some plainly showed by their looks that they 
 never would have taken me for such a bite. I saw 
 no alternative but to throw myself upon a third 
 chance 'shot; for though by the rules of the sport I 
 would have been allowed to shoot by proxy, by all 
 the rules of good breeding I was bound to shoot in 
 person. It would have been unpardonable to dis- 
 appoint the expectations which had been raised on 
 me. Unfortunately, too, for me, the match dif- 
 fered in one respect from those which I had been 
 in the habit of attending in my younger days. In 
 olden time the contest was carried on chiefly with 
 skot-gtms, a generic term which, in those days, 
 embraced three descriptions of fire-arms: Indian- 
 traders (a long, cheap, but sometimes excellent 
 kind of gun, that Mother Britain used to send 
 hither for traffic with the Indians), //^£? large musket, 
 and the shot-gun, properly so called. Rifles were, 
 however, always permitted to compete wdth them, 
 under equitable restrictions. These were, that 
 they should be fired off-hand, while the shot-guns 
 were allowed a rest, the distance being equal; or 
 that the distance should be one hundred yards for 
 a rifle to sixty for a shot-gun, the mode of firing 
 being equal. But this was a match of rifles exclu- 
 
304 JUDGE LONC.STREEr. 
 
 sively, and these are by far the most common at this 
 time. Most of the competitors lire atthe same target, 
 which is usually a board from nine inches to a loot 
 wide, charred on one side as black as it can be 
 made with lire without impairing materially the 
 uniformity of its surface, on the darkened side of 
 which is pegged a square piece of white paper, 
 which is larger or smaller according to the distance 
 at which it is to be placed from the marksmen. 
 This is almost invariably sixty yards, and for it the 
 paper is reduced to about two and a half inches 
 square. Out of the center of it is cut a rhombus 
 of about the width of an inch, measured diagonal- 
 ly ; this is the bulT s-cye, or diainond, as the marks- 
 men choose to call it: in the center of this is the 
 cross. But every man is permitted to fix his tar- 
 get to his own taste, and accordingly some remove 
 one fourth of the paper, cutting from the center of 
 the square to the two lower corners so as to leave 
 a large angle opening from the center downward, 
 while others reduce the angle more or less; bat it 
 is rarely the case that all are not satisfied with one 
 of these figures. 
 
 The beef is divided into five prizes or, as they 
 are commonly termed, five quarters — the hide and 
 tallow counting as one. For several years after the 
 .Revolutionary War a sixth was added — the lead 
 which was shot in the match. This was the prize 
 of the sixth best shot, and it used to be carefully 
 extracted from the board or tree in which it was 
 lodged and afterward remolded. But this grew 
 out of the exigency of the times, and has, I believe, 
 been long since abandoned everywhere. 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 305 
 
 The three master-shots and rivals were Moses 
 Firmby, Larkin Spivey, and Billy Curlew, to 
 whom was added upon this occasion, by common 
 consent and with awful forebodings, your humble 
 servant. 
 
 The target was fixed at an elevation of about 
 three feet from the ground, and the judges (Capt. 
 Turner and 'Squire Porter) took their stands by it, 
 joined by about half the spectators. 
 
 The first name on the catalogue was Mealy 
 Whitecotton. Mealy stepped out, rifle in hand, 
 and toed the mark. His rifle was about three 
 inches longer than himself, and near enough his 
 own thickness to make the remark of Darby Chis- 
 lom, as he stepped out, tolerably appropriate: 
 " Here comes the cornstock and the sucker ! " said 
 Darby. 
 
 " Kiss my foot! " said Mealy. *' The way I'll 
 creep into that bull's-eye's a fact." 
 
 '' You'd better creep into your hind sight." 
 
 Mealy raised and fired. 
 
 *'A pretty good shot, Mealy! " said one. 
 
 " Yes, a blamed good shot!" said a second. 
 
 " Well done. Meal! " said a third. 
 
 I was rejoiced when one of the company in- 
 quired, "Where is it?" for I could hardly believe 
 they were founding thece remarks upon the evi- 
 dence of their senses. 
 
 '* Just on the right-hand side of the bull's-eye," 
 was the reply. 
 
 I looked with all the power of my eyes but was 
 unable to discover the least change in the surface 
 of the paper. Their report, however, was true; 
 20 
 
3o6 JUDGE LOXGSTREET. 
 
 SO much keener is the vision of a practiced than an 
 unpracticed eye. 
 
 The next in order was Hiram Baugh. Hiram 
 was Hke some race-horses which I have seen ; he 
 was too good not to contend for every prize, and 
 too good for nothing ever to win one. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, as he came to the mark, 
 *' I don't say that I'll w^in beef, but if my piece 
 don't blow I'll eat the paper, or be mighty apt to 
 do it,, if you'll b'lieve my racket. My powder are 
 not good powder, gentlemen; I bought it thum 
 [from] Zeb Daggett, and gin him three-quarters of 
 a dollar a pound for it; but it are not what I call 
 good powder, gentlemen; but if old ' Buck-killer' 
 burns it clear, the boy you call Hiram Baugh eats 
 paper or comes mighty near it." 
 
 " Well, blaze away," said Mealy," and be blamed 
 to you and Zeb Daggett and your powder and 
 ' Buck-killer ' and your powder-horn and shot- 
 pouch to boot ! How long you gw ine stand thar 
 talking 'fore you shoot?" 
 
 *' Never mind," said Hiram, *' I can talk a Httle 
 and shoot a little too; butthat'snothin'. Here goes." 
 
 Hiram assumed the figure of a note of interro- 
 gation, took a long sight, and fired. 
 
 '*rve eat paper," said he, at the crack of the 
 gun, without looking, or seeming to look, toward 
 the target. *' * Buck-killer' made a clear racket. 
 Where am I, gentlemen?" 
 
 " You're just between Mealy and the diamond," 
 was the reply. 
 
 '* I said I'd eat paper and I've done it, haven't I, 
 crentlernen?" 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 307 
 
 *'And s'pose you have ! " said Mealy, ''what do 
 that 'mount to? You'll not win beef, and neverdid." 
 
 "Be that as it mout be, I've beat Meal 'Cotton 
 mighty easy, and the boy you call Hiram Baugh 
 are able to do it." 
 
 "And what do that 'mount to? Who the devil 
 an't able to beat Meal 'Cotton? I don't make no 
 pretense of bein' nothin' great, no how; but you 
 always makes out as if you were gwine to keep 'em 
 makin' crosses for you constant, and then do noth- 
 in' but eat fa^er at last; and that's a long way 
 from eatin' beef 'cordin' to Meal 'Cotton's notions, 
 as you call him." 
 
 Simon Stow was now called on. 
 
 " O Lord ! " exclaimed two or three ; *' now we 
 have it. It'll take him as long to shoot as it would 
 take 'Squire Dobbins to run round a track o' land." 
 
 *' Good-by, boys," said Bob Martin. 
 
 " Where are you going. Bob? " 
 
 " Going to gather in my crop ; I'll be back ag'in 
 though by the time Sime Stow shoots." 
 
 Simon was used to all this, and therefore it did 
 not disconcert him in the least. He went off and 
 brought his own target and set it up with his own 
 hand. He then wiped out his rifle, rubbed the pan 
 with his hat, drew a piece of tow through the touch- 
 hole with his wiper, filled his charger with great 
 care, poured the powder into the rifle with equal 
 caution, shoved in with his finger the two or three 
 vagrant grains that lodged round the mouth of his 
 piece, took out a handful of bullets, looked them all 
 over carefully, selected one without flaw or wrin- 
 kle, drew out his patching, found the most even 
 
3o8 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 part of it, sprung open the grease-box in the breech 
 of his rifle, took up just so much grease, distributed 
 it with great equahty over the chosen part of his 
 patching, laid it over the muzzle of his rifle, grease- 
 side down, placed his ball upon it, pressed it a lit- 
 tle, then took it up and turned the neck a little 
 more perpendicularly downward, placed his knife- 
 handle on it, just buried it in the mouth of the rifle, 
 cut off the redundant patching just above the bul- 
 let, looked at it, and shook his head in token that 
 he had cut off too much or too little, no one knew 
 which, sent down the ball, measured the. contents 
 of his gun with his first and second fingers on the 
 protruding part of the ramrod, shook his head again 
 to signify there was too much or too little powder, 
 primed carefully, placed an arched piece of tin 
 over the hind sight to shade it, took his place, got 
 a friend to hold his hat over the fore sight to shade 
 it, took a very long sight, fired, and didn't even 
 eat the paper. 
 
 *'My piece was badly load'ned," said Simon, 
 when he learned the place of his ball. 
 
 *' O you didn't take time," said Mealy. ''No 
 man can shoot that's in such a hurry as you is. 
 I'd hardly got to sleep 'fore I heard the crack o' 
 the gun." 
 
 The next was Moses Firmby. He was a 
 tall, slim man, of rather sallow complexion; and it 
 is a singular fact that though probably no 
 part of the world is more healthy than the* mount- 
 ainous parts of Georgia, the mountaineers have not 
 generally robust frames or fine complexions. They 
 are, however, almost inexhaustible by toil. 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 
 
 309 
 
 Moses kept us not long in suspense. His rifle 
 was already charged, and he fixed it upon the tar- 
 get with a steadiness of aim that was astonishing 
 to me and alarming to all the rest. A few seconds, 
 and the report of his rifle broke the death-like si- 
 lence which prevailed. 
 
 " No great harm done yet," said Spivey, mani- 
 festly relieved from anxiety by an event which 
 seemed to me better calculated to produce despair. 
 Firmby's ball had cut out the lower angle of the 
 diamond, directly on a right line with the cross. 
 
 ^ Three or four followed him without bettering 
 his shot; all of whom, however, with one excep- 
 tion, '' eat the paper." 
 
 It now came to Spivey' s turn. There was noth- 
 ing remarkable in his person or manner. He took 
 his place, lowered his rifle slowly from a perpen- 
 dicular until it came on a line with the mark, held 
 it there like a vise for a moment, and fired. 
 
 " Pretty sevigrous, but nothing killing yet," said 
 Billy Curlew, as he learned the place of Spivey's 
 ball. 
 
 Spivey's ball had just broken the upper angle of 
 the diamond, beating Firmby about half its width. 
 
 A few more shots, in which there was noth- 
 ing remarkable, brought us to Billy Curlew. Billy 
 stepped out with much confidence, and brought 
 the " Soap-stick " to an order, while he deliberately 
 rolled up his shirt sleeves. Had I judged of Billy's 
 chance of success from the looks of his gun, I 
 should have said it was hopeless. The stock of 
 " Soap-stick" seemed to have been made with a 
 case-knife; and had it been, the tool would have 
 
310 yUDGE LONCSTREET, 
 
 been but a poor apology for its clumsy appearance. 
 An auger-hole in the breech served for a grease- 
 box; a cotton string assisted a single screw in 
 holding on the lock; and the thimbles were made, 
 one of brass, one of iron, and one of tin. 
 
 "Where's Lark Spivey's bullet?" called out 
 Billy to the judges, as he finished rolling up his 
 sleeves. 
 
 ** About three-quarters of an inch from the cross," 
 was the reply. 
 
 "Well, clear the way I the ' Soap-stick's ' com- 
 ing, and she'll be along in there among 'em pres- 
 ently." 
 
 Billy now planted himself astraddle, like an in- 
 verted V; shot forward his left hip, drew his body 
 back to an angle of about forty-five degrees with 
 the plane of the horizon, brought his cheek down 
 close to the breech of old " Soap-stick," and fixed 
 her upon the mark with untrembling hand. His 
 sight was long, and the swelling muscles of his left 
 arm led me to believe that he was lessenincr his 
 chance of success with every half-second that he 
 kept it burdened with his ponderous rifle; but it 
 neither flagged nor wavered until " Soap-stick " 
 made her report. 
 
 "Where am 1?" said Billy, as the smoke rose 
 from before his eye. 
 
 "You've jist touched the cross on the lower 
 side," was the reply of one of the judges. 
 
 " I was afraid I was drawing my bead a leetle 
 too fine," said Billy. " Now, Lyman, you see 
 what the * Soap-stick ' can do. Take her, and 
 show the boys how you used to do when you 
 was a babv." 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 
 
 311 
 
 I begged to reserve my shot to the last; plead- 
 ing, rather sophistically, that it was, in point of 
 fact, one of Billy's shots. My plea was rather in- 
 dulged than sustained, and the marksmen who had 
 taken more than one shot commenced the second 
 round. This round was a manifest improvement 
 upon the first. The cross was driven three times: 
 once by Spivey, once by Firmby, and once by no 
 less a personage than Mealy Whitecotton, whom 
 chance seemed to favor for this time, merely that 
 he might retaliate upon Hiram Baugh; and the 
 bull's-eye was disfigured out of all shape. 
 
 The third and fourth rounds were shot. Billy 
 discharged his last shot, which left the rights of 
 parties thus: Billy Curlew first and fourth choice, 
 Spivey second, Firmby third, and Whitecotton 
 fifth. Some of my readers may perhaps be curious 
 to learn how a distinction comes to be made be- 
 tween several, all of whom drive the cross. The 
 distinction is perfectly natural and equitable. 
 Threads are stretched from the uneffaced parts of 
 the once intersecting lines, by means of which the 
 original position of the cross is precisely ascer- 
 tained. Each bullet-hole being nicely pegged up 
 as it is m_ade, it is easy to ascertain its circumfer- 
 tence. To this I believe they Usually, if not inva- 
 riably measure, where none of the balls touch the 
 cross; but if the cross be driven, they measure 
 from it to the center of the bullet-hole. To make 
 a draw-shot, therefore, between two who drive 
 the cross, it is necessary that the center of 
 both balls should pass directly through the cross, 
 a thing that very rarely happens. 
 
312 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 The Bite alone remained to shoot. Billy wiped 
 out his rifle carefully, loaded her to :he top of his 
 skill, and handed her to me. " Now," said he, 
 *' Lyman, draw a fine bead, but not too fine; for 
 ' Soap-stick ' bears up her ball well. Take care 
 and don't touch the trigger until you've got your 
 bead; for she's spring-triggered and goes mighty 
 easy; but you hold her to the place you want her, 
 and if she don't go there, dang old Roper." 
 
 I took hold of '* Soap-stick," and lapsed immedi- 
 ately into the most hopeless despair. I am sure 
 I never handled as heavy a gun in all my life. 
 '*Why, Billy," said I, *' you litde mortal, you! 
 what do you use such a gun as this for? " 
 
 "Look at the bull's-eye yonder," said he. 
 
 ** True," said I, '*but / can't shoot her; it is 
 impossible." 
 
 " Go 'long, 3^ou old coon ! " said Billy, " I see 
 what you're at; " intimating that all this was mere 
 ly to make the coming shot the more remarkable ; 
 *' Daddy's little boy don't shoot any thing but the 
 old ' Soap-stick' here to-day, I know." 
 
 The judges, I kn^w, were becoming impatient, 
 and, withal, my situation was growing more em- 
 barrassing every second; so I e'en resolved to try 
 the *' Soap-stick" without further parley. 
 
 I stepped out, and the most intense interest was 
 excited all around me, and it flashed like electrici- 
 ty around the target, as I judged from the anxious 
 gaze of all in that direction. 
 
 Policy dictated that I should fire with a falling 
 rifle, and I adopted this mode, determining to fire 
 as soon as the sights came on a line with the dia- 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 
 
 313 
 
 mond, bead or no bead. Accordingly, I com- 
 menced lowering old ' ' Soap -stick ; ' ' but, in spite of 
 all my muscular powers, she was strictly obedient 
 to the laws of gravitation, and came down with a 
 uniformly accelerated velocity. Before I could 
 arrest her downward flight, she had not only 
 passed the target, but was making rapid encroach- 
 ments on my own toes. 
 
 "Why, he's the weakest man in the arms I ever 
 seed," said one, in a half whisper. 
 
 "It's only his fun," said Billy; "I know him." 
 
 " It may be fun," said the other, " but it looks 
 mightily like yearnest to a man up a tree. 
 
 I now, of course, determined to reverse the mode 
 of firing, and put forth all my physical energies to 
 raise *' Soap-stick " to the mark. The effort si- 
 lenced Bilty, and gave tongue to all his companions. 
 I had just strength enough to master "Soap-stick's" 
 obstinate proclivity, and, consequently, my nerves 
 began to exhibit palpable signs of distress with her 
 first imperceptible movement upward. A trem- 
 bling commenced in my arms; increased, and ex- 
 tended rapidly to my body and lower extremities ; 
 so that, by the time I had brought " Soap-stick " up 
 to the mark, I was shaking from head to foot, exact- 
 ly like a man under the continued action of a 
 strong galvanic battery. In the meantime my 
 friends gave vent to their feelings freely. 
 
 "I swear point blank," said one, "that man 
 can't shoot." 
 
 "He used to shoot well," said another; "but 
 can't now, nor never could." 
 
 " You better git away from 'bout that mark! " 
 
314 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 bawled a third, "for I'll be dod darned if Broad- 
 cloth don't give some of you the dry gripes if you 
 stand too close thare." 
 
 *'The stranger's got ih.Q j>eedoddles,''^ said a 
 fourth, with humorous gravity. 
 
 " If he had bullets enough in his gun, he'd shoot 
 a ring round the bull's-eye big as a spinning- 
 wheel," said a fifth. 
 
 As soon as I found that*' Soap-stick " was high 
 enough (for I made no further use of the sights 
 than to ascertain this fact), I pulled trigger, and 
 off she went. I have always found that the most 
 creditable way of relieving myself of derision was 
 to heighten it myself as much as possible. It is a 
 good plan in all circles, but by far the best which 
 can be adopted among the plain, rough farmers of 
 the country. Accordingly, I brought old " Soap- 
 stick " to an order with an air of triumph ; tipped 
 Billy a w^ink, and observed, "Now, Billy's your 
 time to make your fortune. Bet 'em two to one 
 that I've knocked out the cross." 
 
 "No, ril be dod blamed if I do," said Billy, 
 "but I'll bet you two to one you ha'n't hit the 
 plank." 
 
 "Ah, Billy,'' said I, " I was joking about bet- 
 ting, for I never bet, nor would I have you to bet; 
 indeed, I do not feel exactly right in shooting for 
 
 ''•This word is entirely new to me; hut, like most, if not all, 
 Avords in use amon<^ the common people, it is doubtless a legit- 
 imate English word, or, rather, a compound of two words, the 
 last a little corrvipted, and was very aptly applied in this in- 
 stance. It is a compound of "/rr," to peep with one eye, and 
 '-'• doddle^'' to totter or wabble. 
 
7' HE SHO O riNG-MA TCH. 
 
 315 
 
 beef, for it is a species of gaming at last. But 
 I'll say this much: if that cross isn't knocked out, 
 I'll never shoot for beef again as long as I live." 
 
 "By dod," said Mealy Whitecotton, "you'll 
 lose no great things at that." 
 
 " Well," said I, " I reckon I know a little about 
 w^abbling. Is it possible, Billy, a man who shoots 
 as well as you do, never practiced shooting with 
 the double wabble? It's the greatest take in in the 
 world when you learn to drive the cross with it. 
 Another sort for getting bets upon, to the drop- 
 sight with a single wabble I And the ' Soap- 
 stick's ' the very yarn for it." 
 
 " Tell you what, stranger," said one, " you're too 
 hard for us all here. We never hearn o' that sort 
 o' shoot' n' in these parts." 
 
 " Well," said I, " you've seen it now, and I'm 
 the boy that can do it." 
 
 The judges were now approaching with the tar- 
 get, and a singular combination of circumstances 
 had kept all my party inutter ignorance of the result 
 of my shot. Those about the target had been 
 prepared by Billy Curlew for a great shot from 
 me ; their expectations had received assurance 
 from the courtesy which had been extended to me ; 
 and nothing had happened to disappoint them but 
 the single caution to them against the "dry gripes," 
 which was as likely to have been given in earnest 
 as in irony; for my agonies under the weight of 
 " Soap-stick " were either imperceptible to them at 
 the distance of sixty yards, or, being visible, were 
 taken as the flourishes of an expert who wished to 
 *' astonish the natives." The other party did not 
 
3i6 yUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 think the direction of my ball worth the trouble of 
 a question; or if they did, my airs and harangue 
 had put the thought to flight before it was delivered. 
 Consequently they were all transfixed with aston- 
 ishment when the judges presented the target to 
 them, and gravely observed, "It's only second 
 best, after all the fuss." 
 
 '* Second best!" exclaimed I, with uncontrol- 
 lable transports. 
 
 The whole of my party rushed to the target to 
 have the evidence of their senses before they would 
 believe the report; but most marvelous fortune de- 
 creed that it should be true. Their incredulity and 
 astonishment were most fortunate for me; forthey 
 blinded my hearers to the real feelings with which 
 the exclamation was uttered, and allowed me suf- 
 ficient time to prepare myself for making the best 
 use of what I had said before with a very different 
 object. 
 
 " Second best! " reiterated I, with an air of de- 
 spondency, as the company turned from the target 
 to me. ** Second best only! Here, Billy, my 
 son, take the old 'Soap-stick;' she's a good 
 piece, but Fm getting too old and dim-sighted to 
 shoot a rifle, especially with the drop-sight and 
 double wabbles." 
 
 "Why, good Lord amighty ! " s^id Billy, with 
 a look that baffles description, " an't you driv the 
 
 cross r 
 
 9 " 
 
 *' O driv the cross!" rejoined I, carelessl}'. 
 *' What's that? Just look where my ball is ! I do 
 believe in my soul its center is a full quarter of an 
 inch from the cross. I wanted to lay the center 
 
THE SHOOTING-MATCH. 
 
 317 
 
 of the bullet upon the cross, just as if you'd put it 
 there with your fingers." 
 
 Several received this palaver with a contemptuous 
 but very appropriate curl of the nose ; and Mealy 
 Whitecotton offered to bet a half -pint " that I 
 couldn't do the like again with no sort of wabbles, 
 he didn't care what." But I had already fortified 
 myself on this quarter by my morality. A decided 
 majority, however, were clearly of opinion that I 
 was serious; and they regarded me as one of the 
 wonders of the world. Billy increased the major- 
 ity by now coming out fully with my history, as he 
 had received it from his father; to which I listened 
 with quite as much astonishment as any other one 
 of his hearers. He begged me to go home with 
 him for the night, or, as he expressed it, ''to go 
 home with him and swap lies that night, and it 
 shouldn't cost me a cent; " the true reading of 
 which is, that if I would go home with him, and 
 give him the pleasure of an evening's chat about 
 old times, his house should be as free to me as 
 my own. But I could not accept his hospitality 
 without retracing five or six miles of the road 
 which I had already passed, and therefore I de- 
 clined it. 
 
 " Well, if you won't go, what must I tell the old 
 woman for you? for she'll be mighty glad to hear 
 from the boy that won the silk hankerchief for her, 
 and I expect she'll lick me for not bringing you 
 home with me." 
 
 " Tell her," said I, '' that I send her a quarter 
 of beef, which I won, as I did the handkerchief, 
 by nothing in the world but mere good luck." 
 
3l8 JUDGE LONGSTREET. 
 
 *' Hold your jaw, Lyman," said Billy; '' I an't 
 a gwine to tell the old woman any such lies ; for 
 she's a rael reg'lar built Methodist." 
 
 As I turned to depart, " Stop a minute, stranger," 
 said one; then lowering his voice to a confidential 
 but distinctly audible tone, '* What you offering 
 for?" continued he. I assured him I was not a 
 candidate for any thing; that I had accidentally 
 fallen in with Billy Curlew, who begged me to 
 come with him to the shooting-match, and, as it 
 lay right on my road, I had stopped. "O," said 
 he with a conciliatory nod, '' if you're up for any 
 thing, you needn't be mealy-mouthed about it 'fore 
 us boys; for we'll all go in for you here up to 
 the handle." 
 
 *' Yes," said Billy, *' dang old Roper if we don't 
 go our death for you, no matter who offers. If 
 ever you come out for any thing, Lyman, jist let 
 the boys of Upper Hogthief know it, and they'll 
 go for you to the hilt, against creation, tit or no tit, 
 that's the tatur." 
 
 I thanked them kindly, but repeated my assur- 
 ances. The reader will not suppose that the dis- 
 trict took its name from the character of the inhab- 
 itants. In almost every county in the State there 
 is some spot or district which bears a contemptuous 
 appellation, usually derived from local rivalships 
 or from a single accidental circumstance. 
 
 Hall.