great Republic and are anxious to hear and know more. Place any sensible American in an English or French or German circle and he immediately becomes an object of curiosity. And it is not an unpleasant experience to refute false reports, to remove unjust prejudices, and to describe our cities and our states, our public men and public measures. You are rarely annoyed by this frequent and familiar ordeal, because the compensation makes it well worth the trouble; and you are often instructed yourself, as you receive in exchange much that is valuable from your new friends, and are often inexpressibly amused. "How long have you been in England?" was the question put by a young Englishman to a young American at a public dinner the other evening. "About two weeks," was the reply. "Really," was the rejoinder of young John Bull, "and I notice you talk our language as well as we do!" "Yes," was the reply of Brother Jonathan, "I have not been here quite long enough to forget how to speak it." A colored American paid a visit several months ago to a great English Abolitionist, and was invited to stay over night. He was black as ebony; and although his manners were perfect and his conversation refined, he was not the less a curiosity to the whole household, and especially to the servants, who had never before seen a black man. The next morning, after he had left his bedroom, the chambermaid, the cook, the butler, and the coachman all rushed up-stairs to ascertain whether he had not blackened the sheets of the bed. I met a very agreeable Italian last winter at Geneva who had travelled much in the United States, and while stopping in Philadelphia he received a letter from a friend who asked him to collect a sum of money that was owing to him in America. The debtor lived at Monte Video, and the creditor thought it could not be far from New York or Philadelphia, and that it would give his friend no trouble to drop in and procure the money. Many of them believe that California is not a part of the United States, and only

three evenings ago I received a note from the man who sells me cigars, addressed to Mr. California, telling me he had just procured a choice new brand. An English lady, who knows our country from Maine to Mexico, and is one of the most effective writers on Colonel Muter's Anglo-American Times, does not hesitate to say that many of her friends sincerely believe that an American is an Indian, wearing moccasins, blankets, and rejoicing in a head full of feathers. But there is another side to this picture, and that is, not only the right knowledge of many foreigners in regard to America, but the warm welcome they are always ready to extend to their American cousins.

Such a welcome is daily the good - fortune of our distinguished fellow-citizen Reverdy Johnson, then sojourning at the Westminster Palace Hotel, with his son-in-law, Mr. Kerr. It was something more than satisfaction to me to meet my old friend once again. It is more than thirty years since I first met Reverdy Johnson, and, with the exception that he is almost hopelessly blind, his vigor of body and mind is equal to that of many younger men. Born at Annapolis, Maryland, May 21, 1796, and therefore in his eightieth year, his faculties are as clear as when I heard him make his great speech in favor of James Buchanan at Concert Hall, Philadelphia, in 1856. His strong, melodious voice, his retentive memory, his fund of wit and humor, give to his eloquence a peculiar charm; and it is difficult to believe, as you mark his erect and graceful figure, and listen to his strong and manly rhetoric, that he has passed so far beyond the Psalmist's age. Enjoying life to the uttermost, fond of society, a capital conversationalist, a courteous listener, his heart responsive to the best feelings of our nature, he is the centre and the charm of every circle. And when I hear his pleasant voice and his contagious laughter, I recall the remark of the old English philosopher, who, upon being reminded by a friend that the years of his long life were rapidly drawing to a close, quickly responded, "Yes, that is true, but

jolly good years they were." I know no living public character who can look back over a career at once so varied and so honorable. Admitted to the bar when he was just nineteen, he rose rapidly to a lucrative practice; and in the eleven years that followed he reported the decisions of the Court of Appeals of Maryland, and prepared the greater part of the well-known series of seven volumes of Harris and Johnson's Reports. He was Deputy Attorney-general of Maryland when he was twenty-one. From 1821 to 1825 he was a State Senator, and in 1845 he was the leader of the Maryland bar, taking at the same time a high position as a practitioner before the Supreme Court of the United States. In 1844 he was elected a Senator to Congress for six years, and in 1849 was brought into the Cabinet as Attorney-general of the United States by President Taylor, a post from which he retired on the death of the President, in 1850. In 1861 he was a member of the Peace Congress which sat in Washington, and in 1862 was again elected to the United States Senate. He was employed by the Government as an umpire in the adjustment of questions which had arisen in New Orleans during the war. In June of 1868 he was appointed minister to England to succeed the Honorable Charles Francis Adams, and in that capacity negotiated the first treaty for the settlement of the Alabama claims, which, however, did not meet the views of the United States Senate. By speech and by vote Mr. Johnson supported zealously the amendment to the Constitution abolishing slavery, for which he was censured by his Maryland friends, who have since become satisfied that he was right. Indeed, there are few or any who would now, if they could do it with perfect safety, re-establish slavery. In the year 1869 he retired from the English mission, and has since resided in Baltimore. It was while in the Senate during the war, at the time I was Secretary of that body, that I had an opportunity of fully understanding the real character of Reverdy Johnson. I had often

enjoyed his hospitalities. I knew well his unrivalled abilities as a lawyer and as an advocate, and had many occasions to prove the sincerity of his friendship, the dignity of his bearing, his genuine toleration, and his large and unexampled benevolence. But it was in his public relation to great questions that I fully appreciated his intense and devoted patriotism. A Southern man with Southern sympathies, he loved his country with unchanging affection. He was never an extremist, and his natural and innate moderation always made him an invaluable medium between the ultras of both sides. Never shall I forget how often, in the dark hour, he pleaded for reconciliation. More than once he helped to decide questions in aid of the Government, and, although often brought into conflict with the radical leaders, I think I can say that he never once lost his temper. Others differed to the verge of personal hostility. Many old friends in public life were separated forever and died enemies, but Reverdy Johnson was so consistently a gentleman, belonged so entirely to the statesmen of the better days of the Republic, that when he finally retired from the Senate he did so with the respect and the confidence of both parties. Few men have lived a life of such comparatively unbroken integrity and happiness. Frequently tossed about by the storms of State, for more than four years an active participant in the legislation of the war, finding his motive frequently questioned, he still preserved his equanimity and never lost the confidence of his country. Fortunate in the possession of a large family and in the devotion of his children, in the graces and virtues of his wife, who had been his companion for more than half a century and died a few years ago, he was that rare type of statesman honored by the world at large; unspeakably blessed in the talents of his sons, the exquisite culture of his daughters, the prosperity and the ability of his sons-in-law, and the beautiful examples of his daughters-in-law. If it ever was said with truth that a good

man has lived in the midst of a grateful posterity, that might be said of Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland. And in his eightieth year he visited London, no longer a minister at the English Court, but everywhere sought as the quiet philosopher of his time, as welcome at the residence of his successor in office, General Schenck, as by the British Ministry, and especially the leaders of the English bar. His rooms were crowded with visitors, and he kept himself au courant with all the events of the times. The daily papers were read to him by his faithful son-in-law, and he was alive to all that was new in literature and in science. I am proud in the opportunity of enrolling him in the list of my "Anecdotes of Public Men." And my humble tribute will be published simultaneously in London, in Philadelphia, and in Washington, if only to show that no distance from home can ever induce me to forget my country and my friends.

LV.

THE AMERICAN HISTORIAN GEORGE BANCROFT.

WE grow from black or brown, after a certain age, into a wonderful plenty of snowy hair; and the darker the seed, the whiter the crop. It is a curious and comic thing, this difference between our reverence for the old when we are young, and our envy of the young when we are old. Perhaps pity is nearer to reverence than envy is to love. But I never see a white head in man or woman, nowadays, without feeling that I am looking at myself, and without a reflected companionship and compassion; and I never notice a lovely woman trying to blacken her single fading lock without an honest sense of sympathy. We are getting out of the age of hypocritical color. At last the young are beginning to see that they have no more right to