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New-York daily tribune. (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, July 31, 1860, Image 6

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TRAVELS AT IIOME..
DL
?3em?pot.?VBC? of Th? N. Y. Tribuna.
Boston, July 16, 18?0,
It it a fact that most of our railroad lineM avo'
He best scenery of the United States. Wit' f*
exception of a portion of the New-York a- . ,
too Hudson Kiver, Pennsylvania Cent" *** ,:no?
timor? and Ohio, I cannot tow *V**aB?r
wbich afford? fairpicttjre? of ^ ""? '?">' r"ai
wertv?. This is especial? v ' *" *^0n ?t tm'
artery of Mnssaehusett ' ^ <** V"th the main
Berkshire on a We * J* onJ? fl>'in? throu?h
S more time ?? ?*"? train, caa per
-, . ,_. ? ?wie-third of tits actual beauty.
Going eastwr - ?-*
. , -fa, on wur way Mi her, we h*j some
pleasant r
' . r ??bwvpBes asnoog the narrow deil? of the
.Une Hill?, bat tho valley of the CVr.ncctieut.
? rwa?it?. ?o lovely, present? but a tance appear
?tBpf.' The charm of Sprio^field?its aemi-circular
??weepof ?uburban villas?i? invisible, and Mount
Jlohoke shows but a low, blue, triangular mass in
?ho north.
To one fre^h from thr exquisite pawtoral scenery
?f Pennsylvania, so liar- mid-England in its smooth
fields, it? hedge-rows, and magnifcent trees, the
?xrontry between Springfield and Poston seems ex
toeedingly hleah and sterile. The r.?cky, gravelly
?oil. the gloomy wouds of fir ami nine, or dwarfish
deciduous trees, tho clap board villaces, hintiDg o
a new Western State rather than of one of the
mother? of the Confederation, must disappoint, I
fcney, those who visit New-Eiurland f?r the first
unie. At least, thi? wa? the case w ith my friends.
?* Can thi? be Massachusetts?this barren region,
?.here it seems impossible for a farmer, with all his
industry, to do more than barely live?" "Tliiuk
a moment," I answered, "and fOO will perhaps
remember that you have never beord the soil of
Massachusetts praised, but her laws, her school
aystem, her morals, and her men I" These it is
that have made her what ?he is, while Virginia,
favored of Heaven in regard to soil und climate,
has become the degenerate Spain of our Kepublic.
Naturally, the eastern portion of Massachusetts,
with the exception of tbe region about Wachuset,
and ?orne points on the ?ea-coast, is neither beau?
tiful nor picturesque. It is not only rough, with
an indifferent vegetable development, but mount
oaous in its form?. The numerous lakes?or ponds,
a? they are prosaically called?constitute a re?
deeming feature. It is astonishing how the gleam
of Water brighten? the commonest landscape. Here,
however, where Nature ha? done comparatively
little, Man ha? done a great deul. As yon ap?
proach Boston the roughest region is yet a region
of homojfi Tha1 granite boulders, so unsightly in a
fit-Id. 6T grain, become ornaments, when breaking
the smooth turf of a lawn; the scrubby piue?, trim?
med and cared for, shoot into beautiful trees, and
one elm, growing and expanding in the s\ nnnetry
which freedom gives, is the glory of an entire laud
I acape. Man may sometimes deform, but he ofttJaV
twt improves Nature: it is mere cant to assert the
contrary. And I know no better illustration of the
fact than tbe environs of Boston.
A? we flashed past the quaint wooden cottages
of New-ton and Brighton, my friend asked: "Are
those houses really meant for dwellings? They
MM to ine4oo sportive and toy-like, as if some?
body had been playing at village-making, putting
down a house here aud a house there, to see how
it would look best." This playful character of the
Tillages never struck me before, but it is one which
would naturally present itself to an eye accustomed
to the solid, matter-of-fact, unlovely aspect of the
country-towns of Europe. The rus in urbe is a
thing never seen in the Old World, unie?*, rarely,
in England. We are too used to villages, where
every Louse has its garden and its threshold-trees,
to appreciate their novelty and freshness iu a stran?
ger's ejes.
Tht approach to Boston is almost the only pio?
turesque city view we have on the Atlautic Cooota
Tlie broad reaches of water, the cheerful suburbs
oa either hand, the long, gently-rising, brick bill in
front, crow ted with the yellow dome of the Slut ?
House, when seen in the tempered evening light,
under a cloudless sky, form au imposiug and truly
attractive picture. New -York, from the bay, sug?
gests commercial activity only; Philadelphia, from
the Delaware, i? the tamest of cities; but Boston,
from uuy side, owing to her elevation, has a stately
charm which her prouder sisters do not possess.
A Boston Suudav, in Winter, is a day of sack?
cloth aud ashes. A foreigner would suppose there
wa? weekly fasting and prayer f..r MM gnat na?
tional calamity. Instead of an expression of thank?
fulness for rest, of joy in the relaxation from toil,
of happy because spontaneous devotion, the city
?tears a grim, eulleu, funereal aspect, as if under?
going the Sabbath perforce, but with a strong si?
lent protest. In the bright summer weather of
yesterday, OONOIOI, the painful precish.ii of the
?lay was conrid.rablv re axed, and the faces of the
multitude exhibited a profane expression Of cl.oer
fuluess. The BOT. (?enrge W. Curtis occupied
Theodore Parker's pulpit, preaching to a congre
gtatioii of more than three thousand. His subject
was "Modern Infidelity"?the lecture he deliv?
ered last Winter, modified, however, to suit the
occasion. This truly Protestant discourse cannot
be heard too often. The criti?ismsto which the
lecturer has been subjected are in themselves a full
justification of his severest utterances. Taking
their cue ?imply from the title of the lecture, his
commentators?among them, to my knowledge,
JKeverenda?have not hesitated in denouncing it as
O defense of Infidelity, whereas it is precisely the
reverse. It is simply a splendid denunciation of
that Intolerance, which, iu its most un-Christian
tonn, i? the curse of nine-tenths of our Christian
eect?.
in the afternoon, piloted by two poet?, we drove
Up and down, through and around, the, enchanting
?Southern subuibs. The filling up of Buck Bay?a
municipal work, OOOOOl in magnitude only to tie
raising of the eft) Of Chieago above its original
level?tirst claimed our attention. The Boston of
the next ball-century will cover the spacious plain
thus created. Incipient streets alreudv brunch out
from the bottom of the Common, and si at era stone
dwelling?, in Louis Quatorze style, tWOsana^gaf up
with magical rapidity. The extension of Beacon
street is the beginning of a Boston Tilth Av.-nue,
Of which the ci!> is not a littb- pround.
In her southern suburbs, however?lo sTfllMll,
OiiU fhe bill? bejond, OOai ptiBOefj Brookliue, and
BrigLion, Boston may challenge r mparitoo v. ith
?ilu?<*t<iiiy cit) in the woild. Th,.? undulad;.| re
?U>\\, doVed with OtyotoJ pond-, lUDOrbli wooded,
and covered for miles w.?l. coontfj -seat- In over?
font enable style ol OTCUftectore, fnnii Ihe OOCO?
prevalent Oieiiau temple te? the novv-fushioi.able
mansard-roof, i? a portfolio crammed with deli?
?ciouj? pictures, 'ihe velvet tuf,foUoofrooa Lt
Huiishjne, tbe trim buckthorn hedge?, the tivllised
rot.es, the commingling of pine, dm, maple, lurch,
acheslfluf, and lir in the groves, the MMPM)O?
dells and ? -?T7" i
mello **-ter*glimpies, the ?leam of towers ana
*<v.ttuted house-frouts far aud nettr, the old
"^??e a, ribbed with Gothic boughs, arc among
**?* Shires, and you can scarcely say that any
4 thing ? wanting. Many of the houses, it is true,
are?w much boried from to? sun and air, to be
healthy residences; but they are none tbe leu
beautiful on that account. Tho New-Yorkers
spread their country residence? over St.ten Mand,
al.ng the shores of tho Sound, and half way up the
Hudson, beautify''g a great extent of territory,
while the Bostonians, by crowding theirs together,
have produced a ?-mailer, but neaily perfect region
of ?sue?cape gardening1 for, where so mach is
beautiful, the occasional anomalies and protesque
ries of taste fail to -ofirod yon.
Tbt general impression which Boston and it? en?
virons made upon my friei ds was that of substan?
tial prosperity ao? comfort. They also tiotirvd its
t.iiii, proper English air, bo strongly contrasted
with the semi Parisian vivacity of New-York, Bos
ten, in fact, prides it-el. on its Deportment: it is
nothing if not proper. All the ridicule which other
cities are in the habit of heaping upon it docs not
seem to disturb its eeiuanimity n the least. I do
not remember to have seen the Boston papws
great'y enraged by any hostile assertion, except
that the harbor sometimes freezes over: llun, tkey
cry out in indignant wrath.
1 must say, 1 rather admire this stolid self-reli?
ance and Novanglican assumption?if for nothing
else, at least because it shows a thicker cuticle
than we excitable New-Yorkers poises?, whoso
nerves are exposed to the atmosphere, or that of
the moibidly sensitive Philadelphians, who ransack
the Union for derogatory remarks, and exa't one
horn while depreming the other to gore all who
doubt their greatness. The genuine Bostonian is
the most complacent of mortals. With his clean
shirt on, and his umbrella under his arm, ho sits
upon his pedestal of Quincy granite, and reads his
mild, unexceptionable newspaper. He believes in
Judge Story and Daniel Webster, reads the poems
of Hannah Gould and George Lunt, votes for Bell
and Everett, and hopes that he will go to Paris
when he dies.
With me, however, who have been knocked
ab. ut the world too much to have any special ven?
eration for any particular class of men, excessive
propriety is always a suspicious circumstance. I
would sooner trust the ragged Christian who sits
in tie hindmost pew, than the smoothly-shaven
deacon whose nasal trumpet leads tbe hymn. I
have sometimes wondered whether all tho Boston?
ians postpone their Parisian delights until after
death. Is there nothing volcanic under this cold
lava? No indigence in improprieties, all the more
attractive, because sect et? My friend related to
me this morning an experience which he had inno?
cently made. "What a curious city this is!" he
exclaimed: ''last night, while I was walking out
alone, it occurred to me that a glass of beer would
be a good thing for my thirst. So I looked here,
and looked there, going through many stieetB, but
ever)- house was closed: only the churches were
open. At last 1 .stopped a man in the street, and
ibid to him, in my imperfect EDglish: 'Is it possi?
ble that in this great city I cannot get one small
glass of beer?' 'Hush ." said the man, 'come with
me and I'll show you.' So we went through many
streets, until he stopped at a little dark door, and
said 'go up.' Then he wont away. I went up
one flight of steps: it was dark. Then I went up
another flight, and saw a lighted glass door with
the word 'Serenity' upon it. Inside were many
men, drinkirg beer. I also drank a glass, but I
was obliged to pay double price for it, and the beer
was very bad."
I laughed heartily over my friend's adventure,
the explanation of which led me into a statement
of the various phases of the Temperance reform.
In Germany, where a Liquor Law would be not
only an impossibility, but an incredibility, such
clandestine dodges are unknown, and I am afraid,
in} friend's resixet for the administration of the
laws in this country was somewhat lessened.
To-day we have given to Charlcstown and Cam?
bridge?to Bunker Hill, Harvard, Mount Auburn,
and the storied elms. I took my companions to
RM the old house Dear the corner of Eaneuil Hall,
and found nothing but a heap of rubbish: it had
just been torn down. The view from the Monu?
ment, which I saw for the first time, was a great
delight. There is no other point from which the
\ i.-inity of Boston can be seen to such advantage.
The eveut of Ihe week will be the Commence?
ment at Harvard, and the inauguration of Presi?
de nt lelton. I had the pleasure of spending an
evening with the Autocrat (whose scepter sprouts
into freeh blossoms every month), at the house of
Fields, who bas just returned from Europe, bring?
ing additional treasures of art. Among these I may
mention a head by Guido, a present from Walter
Savage Landor, and an exquisite picture of "Ariel
on the Bat's back," by Severn, tho artist who
nursed the dj ing Keats. Longfellow is spt ndirg the
Summer at Nahant. Hawthorne is off on a trip to
the Eranconia Notch. Emerson is meditating in
the classic shades' of Concord, and Whittier so?
journs in bin quiet home at Amesbury. I hear of
nothing new in literature since the last announce?
ments.
We are oil to-morrow morning for the? White
Mountains. ?. t.
RECENT FRENCH LITERATURE*
m
From Our Own Correapondcnt
Paris, July 10, I860.
The reputation of Louis XIV. as a great mon?
arch is one of the most remarkable illusions, con
fcidering the time when, the time how long, and
the people by whom it has been believed, which
humanity ever ) ?elded to. The gods and demi?
gods of cluKeic uijtholiigy either symbolized the
forces of nature, or had earned by fabulous good
senice to the world the grateful devotion of simple
worshipers. Mtimbo Jumbo sways the religious
hojies and fears of abject savages. It is the "most
intelligent" and the most skeptical of modern
nations, in the full MM of the most enlightened of
ce ntuiics, that ?till pays its blind homage of admi?
ration to tbe shadow of a name, Le Grand, Mo
nanjue. It has persistently refused to see that tho
e'ovation of their idol was not in virtue of his nat?
ural stature; that he was upheld by Colbert, and
Moliere, aud Louvois and Kacine; that, in that
gorgeous procession down the* course of his
toiy, called the age of Ixiuis XIV., it
w:ue tin- iiiHguifie ?lit escort of SMMMRMj poet*,
captains, geildeiiiiiruithcd preachers, and gold-wast?
ing uichit.ctH, who made the brilliance of the pa?
geant. The K|Mctacle?-|oving French, gazing up al
w a?, i, have OrTristftttaT refused to see ho? the Grand
Idol's car roiled, Mp?ki ?MM ? MMs and blood
0 er the wasted rulutiiiato and th?* wasted Ce
MM Heathen Diocle tiau's p.rse eutioii, r?volu
t .ui.tr? Miirnt'l (MorattMl policy erf blood, were
ORlfMMJ in the? practice of the Mont Christian king.
All this has ROM known of nil men these ninny
ye.'irs, but it has not been bit. MOM O? documents,
incmoirs, and special and general histories, Ht.
biniou, and Pcyrat, and Voltairo?popular novels
even, hie Sue'? Juin Uraiur -vsac a( baud I?
?
teil the truth?and to disguise It. No one mai
oddly eaough, but very Frenchly, doing more '
disgt ?se it in telling it than skeptical Voltaire, witl
eat and Boat unwitting of revolutionist?, a regier
grafted on a cou t tier.
Now attacks the secular idol, iconoclast Mid
elet. He pulls off the ?nyal Goda?ter's hig
fiiizled Olympian wig, pulls off his high, red-heel?
shoes, drsgs him ftut from his VersaihVs temple, ai
shows him stripp?'d to the naked truth?a little, d
bauched, hoartt????, cruel man, in whose contempt
tion, as thus exposed legitimate disgust is only r
lieved bv healthy human hate. Alter reading tl
last, and for th? service it is doing to the Frene
the best volume of Michelet, Louis XIV el la Ret
ration de I'Edict de Sautes, prestige and fespect a
no longer possible. He has told here little that
new in th<- way of fact, but h?- ha* told it in a ne
way. He writes history from the heart to t
hearty " treating humanly the most human of ?.
enees," restoring life to history, making the m
Uve over again, and us live with it, feel with
and appreciate it by aid of salutary hostile ai
friendly emotions?as needful and fit assessors
th?- trial of great historical human cases, as co
indifferent judgment.
The third volume of Oultofn Wimoires is the h
tory from hi? point of view, and w ith special relati
to himself, of Louis Philippe's Cabinet, from IP
to IKVI. The last chapter and a large part of t
appendix, is mainlv taken up with the difliculti
with the I'nib'd Stats* about the '?5,O00,0tMl treat
and with the ineurnvtioiis at Paris and Lyons, ai
the accessory Parliamentary debates, Cabin
ehauoes and change?, and policy of the perio
The first half of the volume is devoted, with a jn
tifiable d?gr??' of detail, to the best, most MM
honorable, and fruitful work of Guizot'? life?I
excellent measures of Public In ?true lion, which i
eluded in their ?cope the inauguration of a syste
of primary education for th?' people and the r
constitution of the Academy of Moral and Politic
Sciences at the Institut?1.
In this as in tin- preceding volume, Guizot
thoroughly himself. No page lie ever sent fcO pre
is more vigorously, nervously written than this vc
ume sent to tte printers in his seventy-third yea
Nor in any stormiest Parliamentary debate, wh?
from tlie bight of the tribune he defied and nil?
the storm, was he more firm, ste-rn, imperious, coi
fident and airogant than now. The terrible defei
of 1846) the forced inaction of the last twelve year
have not subdued hi? courage nor weakened li
faith, nor cooled bis leal?nor even taught fan
charity toward other unsuccessful combatants. I]
is not a manto ask the love of any one; from tt
faithful of hi? follower? he exact? obedience; froi
all honest men he must command respect.
?xt to their value a? illustrating the intcuVctui
and moral qualities of a superior man, what
most interesting in these memoir? are thj pen uu
ink sketches, sometimes of only a prominent featur?
sometimes of the profile or full front portrait ?
distinguished people, whom th? ir author has met
From several of the*e, struck off with ?inguln
vigor of touch, if not successful as likenesses,
must transfer one or two:
"M.Augiute CoraU', the author of what has bee
called, and of what he himself called, Positive Philoec
phy, arked to see me. I had no H quaintance wlmt
ever with I.im. ami bul never ?o much a? hoard hi:;
?pokeu of. 1 received hiin, and we conversed boni
Dine. Be wished that I should have instituted for him
at the College of France, a l'rofessorehip of Genera
1 hst< ry of the Physical aud Mat'iema leal Sciences
and to prove to me tbe Os)OM?tj of it, he ?et fortl
clumsily and confusedly his views of man. society
civilization, religion,philosophy, history. He was'i
simple, honest, profoundly convinced man; devoted t<
bis ideas, modest in apiiearance, although really ?wollei
with pride (mm fond ?rrodi?teurement or/rvrdleuxj, anc
who eincereiy believed himself called to open a new
era to the human mind and to human societies. I hac
some difficult v, while listening to him, to re-train the
expiession of my astonishment that a mind se? vigoroci
should be so narrow a? not even to have a glimpse
either of tbe nature of the fact? he handled or of the
qnestions he pronounced apon; that a nature so uiis.-lf
ishly impartial should not be warned by hi? own senti
nient?, which were moral in spite of nimself, of the
immoral falsity of hi? idea?.''
Guuot adas that be entered upon no discussion
with Comte, whose evident sincerity, devotion, and
blindness, inspired a pitying respect, but that had
he created the professorship in question. Comte
was the last man whom he would have nominated
to it. A long letter from Comte, printed in the ap?
pendix to this tOswMaj curious in itself, may be re?
garded as a piece justifcatin ol this portraiture.
Of Michelet and Quinet,at onetime val?as!''subor?
dinate auxiliaries in the carry ing out of parts?.I "(in -
rot'? sjstem of Public Instruction, he writes:
"Two more rare and generous minds, whom the
" evil genius of their time bas awdfjeoi und drawn
" into its impure chaos, and who are better worth
" then their idea? and their popular success." Like
other great portraitists, Guizot reflects himself in
hi* work, which is always characteristic t?f hims?'lf,
if not faithful in likeness to the subject. This is
strikingly the case io his treatment of Lamennais,
one of the most masterly portraits of tin? gallery.
I regret that I have not room for a copy.
Its Maitrtssis de Louis A P., the Mistresses of
Louis XV., by those Siamese twins of literature,
the brothers Kdmond and .Iule? Goncourt?two
very readable volume? that should b?- read by any
one who is curious, not in dirty scandal and
mere court intrigues, but in the social and
political history of Franc?; " La femme seule
" e rpttijue M r?i'ne effeminf di Louis XI'."
Tbe first mistress, en titre of this most
Christian King bv divine right, was Madame OjB
lfaflij ; the second was her sister, the Coiiuntess de
Viiitimille. who was iu turn dethroned by a third,
sister, the Duchess of Chateauioux. After this
incectuous dynasty of harlotry, belonging to the
hereditary noblesse, the bourgeoisie ascended tho
Rojal bed in the 100000 of Jan?? Antoinette, ille?
gitimate daughter of Madame Poisson, adulterous
wife? of her father's nephew, Mom. d'Ktiolh'?,
Manhioncsse of Pompadour, and virtual Queen of
Fiance. To the bourutoisit MMOioi the i a naillr.
Out from the street and wot se places came?we
cannot aOJ rose?Mary Jane of no original family
name, afterward Viscountess Dubarry, to preside
over the cnrnivalesqtie orgies of Versailles, and the
anointed 1 it-ad of the House of Bourbon lay on her
bosom.
Madame do Maillv, discarded, old and ugly,"bad
grace to repent and die in hair cloth. Going
into church one day, she disttubed some persons:
"Here is a fuss indeed for a-!" cried an irri?
tated worshiper. The poor woman turned and
said: " Since you know what she is, prav for her."
The Pompadour?really an accomplished, if not
" gifted" female?constantly menaced in her last
\eai6 with the fate of her predi ces tor?, was barely
able to ward off ?M ?ininineiit danger and prop her
waning influence over her keeiier'? mind by procur?
ing for his pleasures. But she finally died in her
palace bed. When Louis the Well Beloved, his life
ran out in confluent small pox, the Dubarry went
round by the way of her luxurious house at bOOVO?
ciennes. and the intervening MOT, to the same
guillotine vv here Marie Antoinette and pour Louis
X\ I. lay down their heads iu account for the ?in?
of lier rojal lover.
'J he two volumes of the brothers Concourt, furm
an unusually entertaining historico-biiigraphical
work, the result of considerable painstaking, cousci
entious search after truth. It is eminently moral in
its teachings, aud in its expressions is as deei-nt as
the nature of its subject? would possibly permit.
Les AfaUrrsses du Recent would seem from the
title to be u lit pendant to the above; but I can tell
nothing about it bovond the title.
The Academy dee-m-d the Cohort prize lagt May
to a Histoire, de Je/inne d'Arc, in two vols., Hvo.,
of which a critic says: "M. Wallon narrates the
" admirable life of hi? heroine with warm ?tbi?
" potar, an ardent love of truth, and a remarkable
" discrimination in the choice and judgment of re
" lating documents." A drama founded on the story
of tlie Maid of Orleans, wnit.-n by I ?aniel .stern, was
reciiifl) performed at tbe French theater at Turin,
with, it is said, grci?f deserved applause. This is.
I think, sao bist n-pntabV Fn neb drama wi'.h
Jeanne d'Arc for M heroine. For the root, Daniel
(stern can hardly 0001 for full French. Boo(]
baidlv need iiuorin jour read.ra that DooJd Stern
is the 0001 ib plume of ?wOCMIMbOMsVifl d'Agolilt)
was bom of French parents at Frauktort,
ami has passed many foon of her life in Ger?
many, ?Switzerland, und Italy. Than is still
a new Histoire di Jeunm d'.\rt. winch is simply an
autobiographv, it we are to trust to the title page,
vvl.uh d? ?lures that it wa? " dictated b) gwliaujf to
" Frmancc Dufaux, aged M." Those who are in
I? rested in the question of its authenticity, can cou
mil 'hv ttirv, improved v4Mwa ?j. tyo. of (he Lwr% J i
Y?e?Thrkd by a iwningry conscientious r>li<>ve?r
I in'thetiiewliWe, who signs himself Allan Kard?c,
; which " treats of the principie* of th? (Spiritist
i " doctrine* on the immortality, the nature of ?p'r<rl
j " and thejr relation with man, the moral b\v? ^ jy
I " present and future life, and the future o \ a,.,,^.
! .? ty according to the teaching given by le.,, Saperior
I "Spirits with tbe aid of several Med;?urlr^.,' of
1 more serious worth is th? volume of j|. Alfred
Maury, entitled La Magie et V Attretogic dans
VAntiquit? et au Moyen -4#t?M agir and Astrology
1 in Antiquity and 'he Middle ?^08 or studies of the
1 Pagan Superstitions w?_ic|, have been per
Eetuated up to th? present time. Sine? I
ave not space \o present extracts from,
| or a never so imperfect analysis of tliis
' riirious, in?troa'cTve, agreeable work, I shall best
\ briefly ludiente its three fold merits by saying of the
author that he is an erudite archaeologist, an in
geninus but not fanciful philosophe?, and an elegant
1 writer. Th? third and last volume of Inou?s
! Figuier's Histoire du Merteilleur dans les temps
Minier ne s is entirely cnns*?crated to animal mag
I netism, giving the history and criticism of its devel?
opment? from aud before the time of Mesmer up to
j the present day. M. Figuier does not regard aui
j mal magnetism as all humbug; but what of its phe
' nomeiiu are not huniliug, should find their explana?
tion in Hypnotism. M. Figuier, apart from a
' frankly-pronounced hostility to the supernatural in
nature?, is singularly free from prejudice. This con?
cluding volun.e contains an account of Mesmer, his
cotemporaries, predecessors, and followers, which,
on the historical side at least, is impartial and suffi?
ciently detailed to satisfy the curiosity of any
rational "general reader."
Le CiuitvjU' dis Cuntiijuis, R] the distinguished
philologist and elegant critic, Ernest Kenan, is pre
c??ded, as was his translation of .lob, by a remarka?
ble essay on the plan, age, and character of the
poem, which was not originally Solomon'*, nor a
song, but a sort of drama, where that monarch fills
the role not of a wise king and still less a pious one.
In the second of the two translations, in this vol?
ume the poeni is re-stored to it? dramatic form, with
"stage directions"?as Mr. Kenan conjecture's it
may have been performed, a simple little play in
honor of true love, as a part of the entertainments
at old Hebrew marriage feasts. A severe critic in
the last number of the Correspondant says that M.
Kenan has taken his the?ory, aud his learned argu?
ments in its defense, from infidel German philolo?
gists. Whether the charge be well founded or not,
it cannot be denied that Mr. Kenan, who seems to
be " rich enough to steal," makes elegant use of his*
stores of erudition, however com? by.
La lit i if Humaine is one of the cleverest books
of the season. Its author, M. Jules Noriar, pro?
posed to himself two aims?first, to amuse his read
era for two or three, hours: secondly, to satirize
some of the commonest and solemnest follies of so?
ciety. He has successfully attained both in his
lively narration of the adventures of Muster Eusebe?,
Martin, a young man of sound common sens? and
right fee-ling, utterly ignorant and iunocent of the
ways of the world, whom a singular old doubting
philosopher of a father has let gTow, not educate'd,
to the age of twenty-one, and now sends into the
highly polished, policed, artificial world of Paris.
After having sen??d for two years as a foil to set off
the follies of its conventional and statute laws, our
?ioor natural man grows aweary of its falsities, and
ongs to get back and see the dog and big Caty, the
bonne, and his kind old doubting father, who sent
him out on this hopeless search after what is d?fini
tively real, and true, and right, and good. And in
an auberge, where he stops one night on that rather
melancholy journey home, he finds a greasy litle
book in his chamber, and he sits up hall the night
to read it. " Why, hen? is the real, and true, and
" good, that I have been so wide and rough a way
" in search e?f these two long years !" And in the
morning he pavs without question twenty francs to
the astonished hostess for this dirty copy of the
New Testament, and hastens on to tell about it to
bis father.
?Still, La B?tise Humaine is not exactly a book
for Sunday-schools. There is a love story in it.
and it is French.
Among the noticeable books published in Paris
since last April are: Les paradis Artifinds, the
anatomy of opium and hasheesh dntnicuacss, by
Charles Baudelaire, the admirer of DeQuincy, th?
rjinpathetic translator of Edgsr Poe, and author
of a volume of singular original poems, entitled
Fleurs du Mal. Lettres sur ?es affaires d'Italie, by
L. C. Farini, a volume made up of translations of
varions letters of the natriot Italian statesmen,
dating from lHt?to 1-?i), and originally addressed
to Mr. Gladstone and cither English statesman, and
to the editor of a periodical published at Turin?an
extremely interesting and valuable' contribution to
the history of the Italian question before the war.
L'iritn di l'Histoire Romaini au V. Si?cle, Hvo., by
Anude?' Thierry; and the fourth volume of Napo?
leon's correspondence, which includes the campaign
of Eg i |i _I_
COTTON CULTIVATION IN IS DIA.
Feihaps no other region on the earth's -urfacc bus
been tbe subject of more marvelous and inconsistent
tales than India. In the words of a re-ent lectnrer,
" India is a vast country," nearly nineteen hundred
miles long and fifteen hundred broad, ;m<! possessing,
from varying degrees of elevation and other canses, a
climate ranging through every degree of te -nip?- rature
from the torrid zone to tbe arctic regions. Her inhab?
itants, soil, and productions arc all, like the climate,
equally diverse j jet Europeans accustomed to West
em ways of life, and without knowledge of any one
of the many languages spoken throughout tho land,
and who have, never travolcd lieyond the corporate
limits of the cities of Calcutta, Madras, or Bombay,
will sit down, with all necessary assurance, and write
long accounts about the ??articular capacity o'i the coun?
try und people, for producing certain arti? les in local!
ties which they have never seen, and which may differ
from the ?pots with which they are acquainted as
widely as docs the State of Maine from that of Texas.
We have lately had ?m iiintancc of ?m error of this
sort in the letter of a correspondent of The London
Times, who at great length of words and figures
tries to prove that rico is a more profitable crop
for the natives of India to cultivate than cotton,
aud that consequently the e-.\|relation, raised in other
parts of the woild, of uu increased supply of that arti?
cle from Hindost?n can never be realized. The "cor?
respondent entirely forgets the very forcible fact, that
the land ?u India which grows cotton exceedingly well
is entirely useless for growing rice.
The gra-ping and short-sighted policy followed by
the lute government of India, is the chief causo why so
Bttlo MttM, over and above what is nece-esary to sap
ply the wants of the natives, has hitherto been pro?
duced in that country. Th? habits of the Hiudoos are
so simple and their wants e<> few, that indirect taxation
can extrae ! from the m but a small percentage of the
revenue required to be raised by so very extravagant a
system of rule as that of the latet East India CoOMMT,
To replenish then treasury they continued the old SM>
terns to which their jiredocewors in authority, the Mo?
guls, were ?ecu- omed to resort, ami among others
levied a laud tax. This tax was never leas, though
often mure, than one-third of the gross value of the
crtuiiMted worth of the crop at the place when? raised.
The charge ujkiii an acre of cotton was fn un two to
three dollars; and if ?he ground were only plowed,
whether cropped or not, or If tha crop were
IMst, OT failed altogether, the tax was levied all the
sane. Auolhe-r heavy drawback to tbe development
of the rei-o'iree? of India is the want of road? and
bridges, and the necessity of transporting cotton
SJMR the backs of iiiim-iable cut i lu ofum very great
dbtance't, during which traio?t it is sometimes -.at i
oiirlv ilaiuiiged ..i t'it.ill, OMtMyod b) heavy ruin* uud
ri\er ft .??a.
It ii> an m lin v< le.ievl fart that in India the cultiva?
tion and manufacture of cotton ha* existed longer than
in any other country, and thai five centuries before our
eta IM M00M1 part of the clothing of the Hindoo-, was
maJe of this product. More than V?,000 years beforo
Kuroj.it? conceived the idea of applying modern indus?
try to i ho mainline lure of cotton, ludia lutd matured
s r-ysiiui of hfuul-spiniiing, weaving, and dying, which
Int.- dm mg all that |? i iedol iiuie nieiveii ri<> percepti?
ble Improvement. There are many species and varie?
ties of cotton known iii India, but, fcs. MJOJjOjl MM | j
?**% these arc generally divided into three class,,
p -aisly: herbaeeons, shrub, and tree cotton. It c tl
herbuceons cotton that is chiefly rnltlyated;
grows from two to four or five feet in h.ght, yieldii
an average crop of about one hundn ,i ?-. in.l- of rise
i filier to the acre. Th? cotton from which tbe d?lies
1 muslins of India ara made is equal in fineness to t
very liest 8ea-Island, and of still stronger staple, bnt
! is so short as to preclude the possibility of its bei
! spun by machinery. That exjiorted has in genera
line but short filier, but it is badly cleaned, and contai
much dirt, leaf, bruised seed, shell and wind, the whe
impurity averaging from twenty to twenty-five r
cent of its gross weight. The finest descriptions
American cotton snecced well in India, and yield fi
average creqw. The seeds of this kiod, however, a
rongber, and in their nature more? difficult to sepan
from the wool than those of other sort? known in th
j country, and the natives being deficient in metbuiii?
skill, cannot keep the somewhat complicated saw gir
used in America, in running order, and are consequent
forced to cultivate such specie? as from the ?moot
ness of the shell on tho seed, they can separate wi
facility from the fibe r.
The cotton tree is very abundant in various part?
India, but more especially so in the province of Mai
j bar, where it forms a very remarkable feature in tl
i landscape, towering, as it does, high above its ncigl
I hors, be they ever so gigantic, in the groves and fc
' este. In Spring it has a most splendid appearanc
, being then covered with a profusion of most beautifi
! ?rnrltt flowers. The timber, though not durable,
very nsefnl for making large canoes used by the m
ti ves fer the navigation of the numerous rivers an
lagoons in that country. The cotton, however, is a
most totally valueless, as the fiber is too short to adm
of its being spun into any sort of thread; the treei
moreover, are so high that they cannot lie convenient!
climbed to gather the crop, and tho slightest breeze c
wind, as th? pods l?egin to open, scatters them dow
for hundreds of yards around. Small quantities art
however, collected, but it is only used for such pui
poses as stuffing pillows sud pads for pack-cattle.
In 1788, the East India Company, at the suggestio
of the s|>iniiers of England, commenced a series c
experiments calculated to improve the quality of col
ton in India and promote its growth. These experi
nient?, a? was to be exiiected from the nature of thei
origin, and the geueral policy of those who carrie.
tkkwn out, were attended with but limited success, am
were entirely abandoned about seven or eight year
ago. There is goexl reason to supjiose that the Com
pany carried them on with the mere view of delndini
the people of Manchester and leading them to fane?,
that they were anxious to give them a cheap anc
abundant supply of cotton, but that in reality the?,
never seriously gave the matter a thought. To the
last of their reign it was always the aim of this singu
lar corporation to keep India closed against all inter,
lopers of Eurojiean descent; and every obstacle wat
thrown in the way to prevent those whom the Compa?
ny s servants were pleased to designate a? "adven?
turers," from settling in the interioj. Even after the
British Parliament, in 1833, upon renewing the charter
of the East India Company, compelled them to allow
Europeans free acccs? to all parts of India, and permis?
sion to occupy lands, the ''adventurer" ?till continued
to be looked upon as of inferior caste, and to he sub?
jected to petty annoyances and the ill-concealed hostil?
ity of officials who presided in bureaus and legal courts
where great discretionary power? were allowed in ad?
ministering u badly-digested code of laws. Under the
old regime a European merchant residing in any part of
the East India Company's territories, outside the im
mediate limits of the three presidency towns, found it
qnite impossible to compel a dishonest native to pay
any sum for which he might become liable during the
course of traffic; and as the native? are'poor, aud
almost all trade is carried on by means of advances
made in cash, this necessarily proved an insuperable
barrier to any extensive introduction of Western capi?
tal. If in lands with good legal codes, and feRJSOJ
speaking the language of the b'tigants, we find the
laws often badly administered, how much more must it
be when the bench is ejccupied by foreigners, with a
mongrel code, trying cases in a strange tongue, often
through the medium of one, or even more, intepret
ers, in the midst of a peoplo who consider perjury no
crime, and whose only notion of the disgrace to Ik.? at?
tached to knavery, lies not in the rascality itself, but in
tbe clumsiness that leads to detection. There was a
story current at Madras a few years ago, that will
serve to illustrate the effrontry shown by the natives
of India in matters legal. Two wealthy men quar?
reled, about some family matter, and as it is not cus?
tomary for them to settlo their disputes with ?word or
pistol, as do tbe sons of higher latitude?, they parted,
merely vowing etenml hatred to each other. A few
months afterward, one of them commenced proceedings
against the other in the Supreme Court apon a bond
and mortgage upon his property for 200,000 rupees
i $100,000). Defendant applied for assistance and ad?
vice to a legal gentleman of good standing, who, after
looking into the case, gave it as his opinion that the
matter wa? so clear that there was no use incurring
law charges, aud that it would be wiser to pay the
money at once. Defendant, nnv h dejected, retired,
but returned a few days afterward, radiant with
smiles, and laid a receipt in full liefore the lawyer,
duly witnessed, signed, and executed, for the :J00,000
rnpeee. As there was no room to doubt the genuine
nature of the receipt, aud as it dated a considerable
time back, the lawyer expressed great surprise that he
had net been previously informeid of the existence of so
very important a document. His dient informed him
that until that morning be had thought the paper irre?
coverably lost, a? it had been abstracted from his strong
box about the time that his opponent commenced the
action; that he, himself, from peculiar delicacy, had
not previously said anything about it, le?t people should
suppose him careles? in his worldly affaire in not hav?
ing looked better after a receipt for so large an amount,
or that others, less charitable, should suppose him ca?
pable of t.lling an untruth; that he had ottered a large
reward among his acquaintances and servant? for the
recoveiy of tbe document, that it had been returned
privately, and that hi? satisfaction in repossessing it
was so great that he did not much care about inquiring
by whom. A short time afterward, when the case
came on for trial, it was at once dismissed, with costs,
and a severe reprimand to the prosecutor for such vex?
atious litigation, as dragging a man into court upon the
pretense of a claim which had already lieon fully NitLs
lied. Defendant's lawyer, though he had gaiiied hi?
case, wa? not altogether satisfied with the genuine na?
ture of the transaction. Hud requested his client to favor
him with a private interview, at which that worthy
gentleman made the following confession: " That ho
" had never in his life owed prosecutor a simile rujiee,
" and that the bond ami mortgage were both fabri
'eated; that he. in self-deien??, wa? foned to have
'' a receipt forged, and to pay witues?es to prove the
''signature,'!'
The cultivation of cotton in India is, at present, al?
most entirely confined to the natives, iiuas*i?t<>d by
Western capital; and notwithstanding the disadsau
MJM uiuler which thry have hitherto labored, there
are saitl to be some o,000,000 acres annually planted.
After supplying her manufacturer? with ?ufheient cot?
ton to clothe 170,000.000 of people, ?he eiports annu?
ally more than a million and a half of pounds to (treat
Britain, MMRs conxdtruble quantities to the various
port? of China, Arabia, and the lVrman Wulf.
S .me year? ago, it was observed by a traveler in
Hindost?n that, if the English were to leave ludia,
?' in a generation or two all the maiks of their ever
'? having b.en thcie would be iu the biokou remaiu.i
' .t leer-bottles ?o profusely scatter'??! along the way- I
" ?ides nnd in the neighborhood of their various town? !
" and military ?titions. ' Though theie is a good deal
if exaggeiation in ihi?-, there i? at the? mime time much
ruth concealed beneath it. Till lately India was. as it I
were, a sealsd book to the people of Ureat Britain. !
It wasonly known a? a distant MJMOMOJ that was
?uled by a rich and intolerant oligarchy, whoso rela- <
?v-* !*_?? ?Ml .?Hut ??VsiV? f, wx jig* vy ?^ ^J, ifc '
..I I-??
turned, if ever, after a long absence, with large puree?
?nd bad livers. Money wr that bofj>m??;as?4i!i* end
of all things with the powets thatmled in India? lake?
supplies taken from an enemy and turned to carry on
tlie war ?vgaiivt himself, tbe riches of Ilhidijttta? were,
for generations, unscrupulously extracted and Uvi-lly
ex|,<-n?ied in England to ?menber inquiry and perpetu?
ate the power of the Ea*t India Company. JturtioO
had been so long held captive by wealth, that ?vea
those who had a knowledge cf the v. retched sdminie
tration oftbat Comjiuny failt a positive a??n rasase ?bat
to attempt to stem tbe ti J? of their misrule waa only to
enden?/.,r vainly to strive aiotiuat inevitable fitte. Eveil
in the British Parliament, when,at long iutervaj?, sorna
member, more Quuotic than wise, would make ettbrtO
to discuss the d. nerita of any more prominent act of
oppression, the OOOOOOOx ? nient of the unintajresUug lie
bate wu? invariably the ?ignal for many bonorablO
gentlemen to go to sleep, and for tha rest to retire.
The mutiny of ?he East India Compamy'e nativO
army has, however, harried forward ? eonaammaiion.
that, without the attention attracted to tbe eotmtry by
the horrid deeds of the mutineers, might have beeo
delayed for generations yet to come. A long tight of
darkness and extravagant misrule has just paaaasei
away, and the dawn of better times and ?ajtter thing?!
is already pen-eptible. The heirs and successors of
general ions of partner? of a mercantile association that
from small beginning?, more than two handred .uyl
fifty years ago, roe* to the power of making and de?
posing kings, and to rnle over a rich and populous ter?
ritory greater in extent than the whole o? th? Unit**?
States east of tlie Mississippi Kiver, have retir? ?1 from
0 business that had long since far outgrown their ca?
pacity to manage with either honor or profit \o them
selves or others. The executive power of India haa
now passed, nominally, to the crown, bat in reality to
the people, of Great Britain. These people want a
cheap and abundant supply of cotton ? and, now that
they have got tlie mat 1er in their own bauds, we may
red assured that they will make every possible effort
to obtain it. India possesses greater natural resourceo
for the production of cotton than can Isa found in any
other I'ortion of Ihe globe. The native?, both by na?
ture and habits, are well suited for such work, and any
number of laborers, male or female, can be ?mployed
at wage? varying from four to sil or eight ?enes for 0
day ?if ten hours work. Tbousandsof Btpntr? miles of
her uncultivated land? only wait the advent o? West?
ern means, and Western heads and appliances, to set
many millions of now idle hands to work to raise cot?
ton in luautities large enough to supply the market of
the world at a price with which it would be hopa-les?
to compete. India ha? lately received a portion of the
attention which it merits from Great Britain. The
work isfarailvunced, and the country will soon be in?
tersected with railways which will bring the moat re?
mote inland districts into communication with th? portt
of exportation. Wo are aaaured that the mea of Man?
chester will find means to impress upon the Govern?
ment of England the necessity of reducing the expense?
of ruling India, or, at any rate, o? ??evov?r?ng ?orn?
other ni' ?le of raising revenue less objectionable tliac
that jf levying a heavy tax npon the land npon whi"h
is grown the material on a cheap and abundant supply
of which their bop' of prosperity depends.
Tbe strong arm of mttionai juali?e often strikes
down the guilty from a quarter whence the blow was
least expected. Tbe effect? that must folios tbe strok?
which laid the Km-t IncJia Company in the dost, will
ere Ion?; reach our shore?, and eventually?even if no
other power w ere working for the same desirable end
?extisguish American Slavery. With the immens?
pinina of Hindost?n, freed from an oppressive tax, and
thrown open to Western enterprise, with canals, rotvta.
and railways intersecting and connecting a teeming
population willing to work for a mere percentage of
what labor costs elsewhere, India, under her new
r?gime, must stand unrivaled for tbe growth ef a crop
that requires a great ex'ent of surface, a warm climate,
and a large amount of light manual laovi in it?
production.
THE METEOR.
Corrcapondence of The N. V. Tribune.
Ei.licottvii ir. July 25, 1M0.* i
Lat. 42e If 26", Ion 78" ?jf W.ot ?ire-enwich. f
I venture to tend the fallowing fact? concerning the
meteor of July ?0, although its day has passed, bojt
not the nine days during which it is legall? a wondor.
I was so unfortunate a? not to see it, and have de?
layed sending on any account of it until a great man/
observaron? bad been compared, so that tbe com m ; ii
cation wonld contain only euch data as are reliable, ami
on which calculation? might be based. My method la
collecting data has been to go with each observer to the
place where he saw the phenomenon, at nine in the
evening, aud have him point out the path ot tho me?
teor among the stars ; aud I have been very agr?*eably
surprised to fit. d several gettlemen, living at a distance
of two or three mile? from each other, who c.nld not
have compared notes, agreeing within a degree as to
it? direction and greatest angle of elevation. '
Ihe meteor or aerolite passed here at 9L 3?zn. in
the evening, local time; ?%. ?? hi.. New-York time. It
appeared to rise from the north-western horizon at s>
point IN. to W. Imaguetic), passed to the north of the
zenith and set below the south-eastern horiaon at o
poiDt ?S. G9- E. imairuetic.) The variation of tho
needle at this place is :)} west, which wooll make the
trne courses: rose gf. ; .'? W., set 8. 72} E.
It passed near ali.th, in l"r*a ?Major", between tbO
guards of Ursa Minor, and ??lout, midway between Chi
and Zeta, Ursa Minor. These points would make ite
greatest altitude above tbe pole of tlie heaven? at that
time very nearly 11 .
iaiituJe of Ellicottville.*J 1$ *?'
!? '.-or aboyt; the pole.11 -
Greateit elrvation of meteor.5?? I?' *>
The nucleus or body of the aerolite was single, aad
i-hone with an intense whit? light, not dasatin/. r>u? o
most beautiful, clear, white bght, fully equal to the full
uioou.
it had a trail of bluish l'ght behind it. which, at it*
crPhier-t elevation, was from 8 to 12- in length.
When disappearing below tbe south -eastern horizon,
it emitted ?parkh or balls of tire which one observer
i oui pared to a locomotive tiring up in a dark night.
Another observer, who had a lower horisoa, aaid tm?t
as it w us setting it teemed to b? falling to pieces, tha
piece? of different shapes and sizes.
It had a steady, equable motion: that is, it seemed to
move tarough ecru?! spaces in equal times. Very hign,
light cirrous clouds lay in patches over ihe sky, abort?
which all agree the meteor passed. These clouds at
timt? wonld t art laily obstruct its light, aud gave it the
appearance of darting at interval?.
The length of time from its ruing to it? setting wao
from 20 to 30 seconds.
Iu apparent diameter was about one-third the dism?
eter of th? full moon. Many would call it more, but
none less. Om tuba is ?en aim that it was oblong in
shape, and about three times a? long a? wide?uone
called it e\a. t.y round. From a minute and a half to?
two minute??more ne?rly two inmute???after it dis?
appeared, a sound wax beard like distant cannon. All
who heard it compared it to distant cannon, none tt)
thai: der.
To all who heard it. except one, the s^nnd seemed
to come from tlie direction in which tbe aerolite duap
t-eaiei!. < ?in- |?en?eman, a close ?>>>s- r\ er too, eaiu th?
???und ?exnied to come from the north-west, and coo?
sifted cf two reports in such qui.k succession that too?
might a ??take ineru for one sound. Thi? doubU report
wss noticed by another.
After the meteor had gone, some n>>'a-?-l a Jtvrk
streak lying along the path pursued by the aecoute.
aeemit ?Iv a? wide a? a wagon-track, probably 3 or r
I.road, which after a few miuutea seemed to float away
to the uvrih-east.
All who saw it rise, agree in oue MEM lax. thai
when first seen it was bo blighter than the p?au**
Venus, but when it set it? splendor was almoat a? g?***
I w he i. in the meridian. '
! -?1
Spsakinc. of 1).k,s._Gov. Randall of WI*x?s?b wao
recently favored with a letter"oneof gaaoy-luqairirtg
whether the "Dog Law pa?**! last Winter l.y the
LsKiflatura of that State had b#*n ?**?* ,ml ww "?
force. He ^??~* ,~ fas, a m
?Ma I ren-.ain l? office. *? |H ff!?*??^?5A,? 5 "Z
"?se. to ob.? it A ?wan w*S H ?*? W own a doaj, which ?? ..U aa
! Api i?, ? oo^,sjMwMtao?M>sis>
No ?.-?d , 'tliru will '?'>?? ?? ?,?*?! ?*? ~'"?e<? ?O 'fcSSOlWIIO ta?
hat .aw ? b." ?? ?""?< ?n0? lU?t U lt t?zatela It will ????to
BMatSaN?JFJ ??*vr. aa<* ?wS8a??8 ?he nninOer of wool BWSSSOJ
mm araVly S??rv huaaa? U/e loal by the bita of a Je? B wolh
I an il.?" a?' th? ?log? la the <>uutr> A mat. who ia aot atlhi'4
? ata?lllJM 0' >0' '"* privilege, wheie ?o grvat a baaaht iuay ac
ran to the state by roiiipllaiic? with the provisions ?x taa ?. t?
,U1M I? bo liched oat ol it.
- iuilmimm ?m?k^?m\4mUkM

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