ful mastiff. "There is a feeling in nature, affecting even the interest, as it is called, of dumb animals, which teaches them to fly from misfortune. The very deer will butt to death a sick or wounded buck from the herd; hurt a dog, and the whole kennel will fall on him and worry him; fishes devour their own kind when wounded with a spear; cut a rook's wing, or break its leg and the others will peck it to death." The civil war had much divided families, and in various ways, and, after it was over, the murder of President Lincoln and the indiscreet manner in which his successor's friendship was shown, increased instead of diminished the rage of political hatred. The old ties of kindred and friendship did not regain their former influence, and the course of some of Colonel Peyton's friends and connections made a re-union of spirit and sentiment impossible. No one felt this state of things, so fatal to the kindly social relations which formerly existed in Virginia, more keenly than he. After the war of 1865, he continued to reside on his Virginian estate, engaged in repairing the damage inflicted by the enemy, and deriving solace in his old age, from the society of such friends as survived, and of his books. He had little idea that the South would recover, in this day and generation, from the effects of the contest. When the war began, he was a man of large estate. At its close, when so many followers of the successful side were enriched that it gave rise to a new term term by which they were designated,-the 'Shoddy Aristocracy," he was so much impoverished that his descendants have since been obliged to sell all of his estates. The still Truly riches take to themselves wings. considerable means left him at the termination of hostilities were largely drawn on by his charities. Thousands were in a more reduced condition than himself, and to all he extended aid—was nobody's enemy but his own. His want of economy in money matters was constitutional. It is not surprising, therefore, after having kept " open house" for so many years, and assisted every one who applied to him in need, that he should leave the world oppressed with debt. In a letter to the author, dated in Virginia, March 9, 1867, he says in regard to the political situation, "The Reconstruction Bill, embracing the radical policy, has passed both Houses of Congress, been vetoed by the President, and then passed over his head by a two thirds vote, so that it is now the law, and the Southern States placed under a provisional Government, in which martial law will prevail, and a General and his minions will ride over us booted and spurred.' The next and last step which fulfills our destiny, is confiscation, a bill for which is in the course of incubation and will be hatched in a few days. So you see, my brother, to what a foolish and most preposterous war has brought our once flourishing and happy country. There is no future for the present generation. All is dark, dismal, hopeless. Having sown in folly, we are * Andrew Johnson. reaping in bitterness, we have been victimized by shallow and designing politicians, who acquired an influence over the public sentiment through the madness of party altogether disproportioned to their ability or their .patriotism. We have turned away from the steady and full-orbed light of Washington, to follow the ignes fatui of the poisonous pools of party, and very naturally find ourselves swamped and destroyed." "I enclose you an elaborate letter from Governor Brown, of Georgia, which is very full, on the great question of reconstruction, and will give you all the information attainable. It gives a clear view of our miserable predicament and affords a striking example of the pitiable condition, to which even our leading men are reduced, when they are perpared to give us such advice. Governor Orr, of South Carolina, concurs in the main with these views and our Governor, of course. But I do not agree with them. I prefer a course of sullen, defiant obstinacy. I will never assist in forging the manacles which are to fetter me." CHAPTER XV. Quis desidero sit pudor aut modus On the afternoon of the 29th of January, 1868, a Virginian family residing on their estate in the valley between the Blue Ridge and Alleghanies, Montgomery county, were assembled in the drawing room, and gathered round the wood fire which sent forth jocund sparkles and cheerful rays of heat. At this early period of the new year, when even in our Southern climate "winter lingers in the lap of spring," the warm breath of the gentle season has not yet melted the snow that whitens the mountain peak and shrouds the early flower. The family group seemed anxious, restless. If they had met for their usual afternoon tea and conversation, something interfered with its smooth flow. At a centre table sat an elderly gentleman turning the leaves of a book, facing his wife, about whom still lingered the traces of early beauty. She played with rather than plied her work. Several boys and girls made up the party. These afternoon reunions, when the children were freed from the nursery and schoolroom, were usually sweet moments, in which the parents were wont to enjoy their domestic happiness, while consulting upon plans for the education and prospects of their offspring. From time to time, a fine boy, whose eyes bespoke a sound mind and whose rosy cheeks were graced with the sweet smile of innocence, ran to a window and looked down the long avenue of trees which lined the road leading to the mansion. It was evident that something was expected to approach by that smooth lawn road. "What o'clock is it?" suddenly asked Mr. Eskridge, looking up from his book. "Half-past five," responded his wife. "I must go out, some accident has befallen them," said he, "the carriage should have returned by three," and rising, he proceeded to draw on a fur overcoat. "For heaven's sake do not expose yourself to such weather," exclaimed the wife, " with a cold and asthma, it may cause your death, consider that our fancy heightens the fear of danger." At this moment Mr. Eskridge cast his eyes through the window and saw in the distance his large family coach, a most undemocratic vehicle, approaching. All care and anxiety was at once banished. The fears which had oppressed them were groundless. In a few minutes, when the vehicle arrived at the front door, the family was there to receive the expected guests. The first person who descended with difficulty from the carriage was a tall, handsome old man, much bent |