all that he touches seems poured through his heart, and thus
never fails to reach the heart of his audience. He battles with the sins
and evils of his time, and is perhaps as conservative as truth will
admit.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

NOW AND THEN.

John Letcher, the present rebel Governor of Virginia, has lately
presented himself in rather a new character by recommending in his
message to the legislature of his State, a provision of law to pay for
slaves lost by the war. When he was a member of the House of
Representatives of the United States, he was altogether incapable of
appreciating any public liability to individuals. He was notorious for
the sleepless energy and vigilance with which he opposed all private
claims without regard to their merits. He seemed to set on the principle
that a valid demand against the government could not exist, and that no
man who presented one could be honest.

By the rules of the House of Representatives certain days are set apart
called 'objection days,' when the private calendar is called over, and
all bills not objected to are laid by and passed without debate. Few,
indeed, were the bills which, in Mr. Letcher's day, could stand this
ordeal. On these days he was in his glory; it was then that by the use
of the magic words, 'I object,' he obtained his greatest triumphs.

On one of these occasions, a plain old lady from a distant part of the
country, was in the gallery looking down on the proceedings with intense
anxiety. She was the unfortunate subject of a revolutionary claim, which
had long been pending without result, and by the advice of her friends
she had come all the way to Washington to give her personal exertions to
its prosecution. By dint of untiring energy she had succeeded in having
it passed through the Senate and sent down to the House. It had
successfully run the gauntlet of the House committee, and as the
calendar was now to be called, the simple-hearted old lady thought she
was at the end of her troubles. She watched the proceedings with great
interest, but soon began to show signs of apprehension and alarm at the
movements of Mr. Letcher. The clerk had been engaged for some time in
reading the bills in their order, but not one of them had reached the
conclusion of its reading before the fatal words, 'I object,' were heard
to issue from the seat occupied by Mr. Letcher. Turning uneasily and
hastily to a stranger sitting near, the good old lady with some
petula