all of whom occupied the parlor and principal bedrooms of the mansion, there were in the family two black women and one black boy, who remained exclusive tenants of the kitchen and the garret over it. The lad found their apartment much more attractive than the parlor, and their conversation a relief from the severe decorum that there prevailed. He knew that these people were black, but he did not know why, and if his parents ever uttered before him a word of disapproval of slavery, there was certainly nothing that he ever heard that made him think the negroes inferior to the white person. The two younger of his father's slaves attended school and sat by his side if they chose, but he noticed that no other black children went there.

Later on in life, after Seward had taken to himself a wife and was on a tour through Northern Virginia, in 1835, he saw this spectacle at a country tavern where he had arrived just at sunset: "A cloud of dust was seen slowly coming down the road, from which proceeded a confused noise of moaning, weeping, and shouting. Presently reaching the gate of the stable-yard, it disclosed itself. Ten naked little boys, between six and twelve years old, tied together two and two by their wrists, were all fastened to a long rope and followed by a tall, gaunt white man, who with his long lash whipped up the sad and weary procession, drove it to the horsetrough to drink, and thence to a shed, where they lay down on the ground and sobbed and moaned themselves to sleep. These were chil

dren gathered up at different plantations by the trader, and were to be driven down to Richmond to be sold at auction and taken South." This piteous scene made an impression indelible in the mind of Seward.

It was on this same journey, when homeward bound, that Seward and his wife passed through Washington, where he was permitted an informal interview with President Jackson, of whom he received a vivid impression. Jackson's manner was courtly but dogmatic, and he said of him: "On every subject, of whatever magnitude, the President. was peremptory, and it must be added that, as far as his opinions were expressed, they were intelligent and perspicuous." As I have said, Seward's circumstances were easy. He early learned to save from his professional earnings. He never lived extravagantly, but hospitably, to spend freely and give liberally. He was considered aristocratic in his tastes and pursuits, and was certainly brought up in an atmosphere of refinement and culture somewhat unusual to those early times. His tastes were literary, and although he naturally took to politics as soon as he had arrived at the years of manhood, his pursuits were always scholarly and refined. His versatility was early a marked characteristic, and he seemed to turn his mind to a great variety of diverse occupations with equal success and facility. His "Autobiography" bears on every page the impress of an original, if not a profound, mind. Domestic in his habits

and devoted to his children, he turned from the

cares and anxieties of a statesman's career to impress upon his boys lessons of morality, good breeding, and patriotism, which are among the choicest treasures of his long and useful life. For example, to one of his little boys, when he was away from home, he wrote this charming letter:

"MY DEAR BOY: I have written a letter to Augustus, and I write one now to you. I write it with red ink so that you may know them apart. The people where I am staying are very nice people, but there is a boy here that does one very naughty thing. I saw yesterday on the mantel-piece a saucer filled with the shells of birds' eggs. Now, it is wicked to take away their eggs from the pretty little birds. It is different altogether from taking the old hen's eggs away from her. Hen's eggs are good to eat and it is right to take them. The hen does not know how many eggs she has, and therefore she does not feel sorry when you take them all away but one, and she is such an ignorant old creature that she wouldn't know it if you should take away her last egg and put a paper one in its place. But the little birds' eggs are not good to eat; they know how many eggs they have, and they are very sorry and mourn many days if you take them away. This same naughty boy got up yesterday morning, took his gun, and shot a very pretty little yellow-bird. He brought it into the house, laid it on the table, and it lay there all the morning. At noon he threw it away. Now, do you think the little boy was any happier because

he had killed that harmless little yellow-bird? Perhaps the bird has left little ones in her nest, and they too must have died before this time.”

Seward's entrance into public life was early. When he was less than twenty-three years old he embarked in the political contest then raging, as an advocate of the election of John Quincy Adams, and he drew up a very strong, striking, and pungent address, in which he arraigned the "Albany Regency" and denounced the methods of Martin Van Buren's supporters. The Albany Regency was composed of leading politicians of the Jackson stripe, who held the political fortunes of the State of New York as in a grasp of iron. It was against this Regency that Seward was to be pitted, later on. His election to the State Senate was a great victory. The Whig party, which had originated in opposition to the Jackson administration and the Albany Regency, nominated Seward for Governor in 1834. He was defeated by William L. Marcy, who had a fair majority. At this time he was thirty-three years of age, and it is a curious illustration of the narrowness of the political prejudices of the time, that he was assailed by his opponents for his extreme youth and his red hair. Mr. Seward's hair was a warm auburn in tint. In his "Autobiography" he has narrated an amusing incident which occurred when he was at Long Branch, N. J., the year after his defeat. A benevolentlooking old gentleman said: "Excuse me, sir, if I ask you an obtrusive question, but I see by the papers that there was a candidate for Governor.

in your State last fall-the one who was defeated-whose name was the same as yours. Pray, was he any relative of your family?" Mr. Seward had to admit that he was a near relative.

"Not your father, was it, sir?"

"No, not my father."

A pause ensued, and then, overcome by curi osity, the old gentleman returned to the attack: "Could it have been a brother of yours?"

"Well, Mr. T.," said Seward, "I may as well confess to you that I am myself that unfortunate man."

"Dear me," said the other, with unaffected surprise and sympathy, "I never should have thought it, and so young, too; I am very sorry. How near did you come to being elected?"

"Not very near. I only got a hundred and sixty-nine thousand votes."

"A hundred and sixty-nine thousand votes and