narrates a story as clearly as he would demonstrate a problem in geometry. His mind is accurate and perspicacious. He has no resentments, and this was a surprising feature, remembering the battles, civil and military, in which he has been engaged. I have heard him refer to most of the men, civil and military, who have flourished with him, and there is only one about whom I have seen him show feeling. But it was feeling like that of the farmer in the school-book who saw the viper

which he had warmed to life about to sting him. I had known General Grant fairly well before I became the companion of his travels, and had formed my own opinion of his services and character. A closer relation strengthens that opinion. The impression that the General makes upon you is that he has immense resources in reserve. He has in eminent degree that "two o'clock in the morning courage" which Napoleon said he alone possessed among his marshals and generals. You are also impressed with his good feeling and magnanimity in speaking of comrades and rivals in the war. In some cases-especially in the cases of Sherman and Sheridan, MacPherson and

Lincoln-it becomes an enthusiasm quite beautiful to witness. Cadet days are a favorite theme of conversation, and after cadet life the events of the war.

Among our company is a gentleman who attends the General as a courier or secretary in foreign tongues. I call our friend "secretary" because the title is the one of his own choosing. His name is Jacques Hartog, native of Holland, educated in Paris, and citizen of the world. We call him the Marquis." The title expresses Mr. Hartog's address and accomplishments, and I am proud to publish the renown that the "Vandalia" mess has conferred upon him. He has an aristocratic air, and it is almost like a breeze from land—a breeze from the Sicilian shores laden with the odor of the orange blossoms-to see the Marquis come to breakfast in the wardroom, with the sea rolling heavily, having passed a bad night. We are all fuzzy and ragged; we have taken refuge in flannels and old clothes; we have that uneasy feeling which verges on illness. The Marquis comes with the manner of a lord of the antechamber in the days of Louis Quatorze. Every hair is in its place, the curl is posed on the brow, the face is clean as a parchment, the full brown mustache has the faintest suspicion of brillantine, the scarf-pin is adjusted. There is not a crease in his garments. If the Marquis were a good sailor there would be no special merit in this, but our noble friend is a bad sailor and hates the sea, every motion of the ship being a misery to him. For a nobleman in the agonies of sea-sickness, of a constant seasickness, to array himself as though he were about to promenade the Champs Elysées, shows a power of self-control which is worthy of admiration. The Marquis wants to know the American people, and this trip he proposes to make the glory of his career. Although General Grant pays him liberally, no pay could induce him to travel on board a man-of-war. To have been the courier or secretary of General Grant will be a title of distinction in his profession. Consequently, he takes pride in his office, and especially in fighting the General's battles with hotel-keepers, hackmen, and beggars. Partly because of his renown, and partly because he will not allow a feather of the

General to be plucked, he has aroused enmity in his profession. Other couriers, jealous of him, write anonymous letters, saying he is a scoundrel, and threatening to expose him. These communications he reads with unruffled composure, and lays them before his master,

who disdains them and treats the Mar

quis with unabated confidence.

The

Marquis does not

express positive

opinions on many

subjects, cultivation and travel having hardened his mind. His intellect swings from point to point,

ISLAND OF CAPRI.

But about hotel-keep

like my swinging cot, into which I mount with so much care for fear of vaulting out on the other side. ers and couriers, as a class, he has pronounced opinions. A hotel-keeper is very good so long as you keep him well in hand and show him you know his character and resources. But once give way, and he will overwhelm you with charges for soap and candles and extras. As for couriers, the Marquis thinks badly of them as a class. "My aim," he said, "has

been to elevate my calling to the dignity of a profession. But your other courier, why, all he wants is a commission and to make money. Now I like to make money, of course, but I want to make reputation first." Two other subjects upon which the Marquis has pronounced opinions are sea travel and the fickleness and inconstancy of woman. If he had his way he would either make the ship go forty-five knots an hour and burn more coal or run her ashore. As for woman, he shares opinions like those of Rochefoucauld and Voltaire and Lord Byron. I observe, however, that the fair sex always suffer from the observations of gentlemen of rank who see much of the world. You will know from this that our noble friend is unmarried. I advised him in one of our conversations to form an alliance with some of our ladies of great fortune; but he does not have an exalted opinion of American ladies, as seen in Paris, and would require a large sum of money before he offered his hand and his title. Another subject which interests him is the political future of General Grant. He believes the American people should elect the General to the Presidency, and that they should do it next year. I explained to him that it would be difficult, very difficult, for us to have a canvass for the Presidency next year, or indeed before 1880. The Marquis would readily come to the United States in the event of the General's election, and I gave him all the information in my power as to the law and mode of naturalization. His immediate purpose is to write a guide-book for European travel. In this book he will recommend only such hotels as General Grant has patronized. So great is the esteem in which the General is held by all English and American travelers that they will rush to the General's hotels and avoid all others. I suggested that this would be destructive of the other houses, but the Marquis answered that his aim was to destroy the other houses. He proposed dealing with them as Napoleon did with the Republic of Venice and the minor States of Italy. His guide-book will have ample space for advertisements, which he will insert at reasonable rates, and on the proceeds of this work-to be called " Hartog's Guide "—and upon his fame as General Grant's secretary, the

THE MARQUIS.

223 Marquis will retire to his home in Paris, and there spend the remainder of his days in glory-in envied glory and contentunless political events should summon him to the United States. These are the views of the Marquis, expressed at various times on our trip. This dream of glory came to me vividly as I was passing through the steerage only a few moments ago. It was early in the afternoon and the sea was high. There, on the floor of the deck, with his greatcoat around him-there, pale

and ghastly, was my noble friend. Some of the midshipmen had been trying to console him with suggestions of beans and pork and molasses. Others had been telling him of fearful storms in the air coming from the coast of Africa. My noble friend had surrendered, and there, huddled up against the walls of the engine room, he lay in pain and grief and illness. "And this," I said as I climbed up the stairway to the deck, not quite sure whether I would keep my feet-" And this is only another instance of what men will do for glory." For glory my noble friend leaves Paris, the boulevards, the opera bouffe, his evening stroll and his cigar, his petit souper at Velour's, his bal