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WASHINGTON, D. C. I
For ttie National Kra.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SARATOGA.
No. 5.
United States Hotel, Monday.
Pear G***: The Sabbath_has ever been re- ,
c.ir>ied by Christians as manifesting Uods
uierey towards poor laborere and overtasked '
oxen and horses. It is not less a mercy to the
fashionable circles in this Caravansary, for a
Sabbath to intervene between " a Saturday and 4
Monday "?not for the reason Dibden gives in 1
his famous song, which Uncle Ben once de- 1
li/hted to sing to us children?
" Of ?)l ibe day* that'll in the week,
I lifi'ly love bat -we fay,
And that ihe day that come* betwc-n
A Satar Jay and Monday ;
For then I'm drert all in my beet.
To walk with love'y Pally.
O ?he*a the darling of ?y hear.,
She iivea in oar Alley?
a t for the reason that everybody here are
dressed up every day in the week in their
' Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes." And this reminds
me, that last Saturday morning, as the
' We Six" and Dick and I were gathered in a
shady corner of the piazza, making conundrums,
Amelia said she had one of her own,
wh-jreupon our attention was all concentrated
upon her; and here it is: "Why is Saratoga
like Paradise as described in the Revelation
of St. John." Nobody was expected to guess
11. and so we, to use Mr. H.'s phrase," guv it np."
" Because." said* Amelia, " people here and
ihere are devoted to music, they wear their gala
dre.-ses'every day. they have nothing in particu?
? ' a. *1.. #..11 _# a
lar to uo out to urinx vo lue iuii 01 me water"
?.f life forever springing np around them." I
aid it was a most miserable failure ; whereupon
Mis* Amelia and her cousins, Clara and Eliza
1) ?, insisted that I should offer a better one;
hut 1 said I was not ready to meet such a challenge;
but as they were very pertinacious,
seeming a little piqued by my criticism, I proposed
this : '* Why is Saratoga like vanity fair
as described by John Bunyan? " To this, any
number of replies were given, some of them
clever, and all witty. These, however, did not
satisfy Amelia, who would have ine give them'
my own answer. 1 did so. u Because it is the
place where faithful Christians pass through a
fiery ordeal." This provoked the ridicule of
Amelia and Eliza D , conveyed with great
delicacy of expression, but I felt it, and it reddened
my cheeks for shame that I had ventured
upon such a speech as this. It was neither
well timed nor well expressed. Mr. H
-aid " I was certainly the most uncomplaining
of martyrs, and that he would esteem it an
honor to bear my cross for me." You know
u?y tendency is to be pugnacious, but as I felt
myself all iu the wrong to make piety the subject
of a conundrum, i was silent. And 1 mean
to hold mv tongue. For, beyond the discharge
of our reiigious duties in our closets, leaving
the influence of that secret life to be expressed
in its natural effect upon our words and actions,
1 do not see what young Christians can do in
the wav of nrnlMniiiff t'lirist in Hiinh nirelea ??
arc to bp found at Saratoga Springs. There are
homes where good people go. One of these,
Mrs. Mason's, a private boarding-house, has the
of" S&ints' Rest," and,though but a
little way off'from this Hotel, is widely separated
in taste and culture?we going for the distinctions
of dress, and they in social and easy and
delightful intercourse for the charms of intellect.
The Union Half was a pioux house some
years since, and they had morning and evening
w.rship there in former days; but when the
new drawing room was erected and a band of
music engaged, dancing and praying were
found incompatible; and as the devotees of
Terpsichore were so much greater than the
worshippers of fiod, daily puldic prayers and
the singing of hymns were discontinued,
Itear G***, is it so, that dancing is incompatible
with worship ! If ought not to be. To
worship God should be as natural as joyousness.
whether expressed in skipping a rope or
in dancing. And it is sq in Scotland, in Switzerland.
and in Germany. This, then, must be
the last influence of the mistaken zeal of Puritanism,
which struck down all that was beautiful
in art, society, literature, and in worship,
in their stern conflict and zeal to create ana
secure the constitutional and religious liberties
of Kngland. This was said to me by Mr.
H , as we sat together looking on the lovely
scene of the dancers in the ball-room last
Friday night; and I recall it now with pleasure,
tor I thought his remarks were worth
tl'i |< irinir iitv?mid hern vnn hive thorn
o ~ r -y ?
But I sat down this morning to tell yon of
our Sunday at the Springs. It was a beautiful
day. Dick and I wen^out as early as seven
o'clock ; and we spent an hour in the Congress
Spring Park, talking Sunday talk, as it was our
duty to tlo. On our return, Aunt Jane was
dressed, and our rooms were in proper trim for
prayers. This we do at eight o'clock every
day. It is among the difficulties of a religious
life at the Springs, (in this Hotel, certainly,)
to-find time and place for morning devotions.
At first, we were liable to all kinds
of interruptions. The chamber-maid would
bolt in upon us brush in hand, or some one of
the neighbors along our corridor would tap at
the door to take us down to the breakfast table.
In despite of every sort of annoyance, Aunt
has persevered. Dick reads a chapter, 1 read
a hymn?for Aunt thinks it would be a little bit
( harisaical for us to sing it, even in our cham>ers?and
this done, Aunt reads one of Thornton's
prayers, her favorite formula of worship,
as you know. We usually descend to the breakfast
room lietwre uine. Yesterday, at ten o'clock,
the yorld of Saratoga was on the move. The
hotels began to pour forth their several congregations
into Broadway, all on their way
to one of the several churches of this village.
The famous Dr. Murray, known to the religious
world as Kir wan, was to preach in the Presbyterian
Church. He is a man of infinite humor,
and is very popular here and everywhere. He
[ ointed out to me, some mornings since, one of
those meu who delightin wearing a close-bodied
frock-coat,44 all buttoned up before," and a low
collar and white cravat, and was a parson,
beyond all question, 44 very High-Church.'"
" Do you know who he is ? " asked Dr. M .
I replied, 44 I do not know his name, but he
doubtless belongs to the ' Bishops and other
clergy.' " 44 Yes, indeed.'' " He looks like a
walking prayer-book, bound up in calf."
Amelia was anxious I should go with the
" Ml e Six " to hear Doctor Mayo, of Richmond,
who was to preach a sermon on 44Liberal Christianity;"
and as this service was to bo held in
St. Xicholas Hall, she thought ray devotion to
the patron saint of our city ought to be a motive
to induce me to go there. I told her nothing
could induce me to make such a use of a
Lord's Day ; whereupon, she expressed her aatonishmeut
at such exclnsiveness, and wondered
why it was she felt so great an inclination to
secure my friendship. 1 didn't tell her what I
thought, that if Dick was out ef the question,
she would verv soon find a wav of disnnsina of
me.
I have something to tell you, if we ever meet,
And 1 had designed to tell you of something that
is happening, but that would lead me far from
the topic of this letter?my Sabbath of yesterday
at the Springs.
While Amelia and Mr. H and Eliza
D were holding me in talk in the hall,
Auut Jane came forward, leaning on Dick's
arm, and, bowing to our Boston party, she
said:
" We are going to attend public worship at
the Methodist Church, near by. and we shall
have a sermon from the Rev. Dr. Bulloch, of '
Walnut Hills, Kentucky, and I can promise
1
m ?
a.
Vol. XIII.
you ft very good dncoarae, if you will go with
a*."
Amelia bowed her acknowledgments for the
party, and said they felt theatseWea pledged to
listen to Dr. Maro,*to whom the? had been pre
seated, and who bad personally expressed his
pleasure of having them among his auditors in
" St. Nicholas Hall."
The Rev. Dr. Bulloch, and lady, and daughter,
and niece, were introduceed to us by a mutual
friend from Detroit, whom we met here on
onr arrival. Aunt Jane was delighted with
this party of Western travellers. They are all
strikingly Kentuckian?tall, graceful, frank,
and winuiag. I could but contrast their beautiful,
unaffected bearing with the made-up men
and women around me. Aunt Jane says they
are the meet perfectly agreeable and lovely per
sons she has met with here 1 We have seen
them almost every day for the last ten days;
and when under the influence of truthful, refined,
And graceful manners, welling up out of
souls full of pure and holy affections, I feel the
force of all that our friend Jndge B said to
me last week, that naturalness is the greatest
of all attractions, both in men and women, and
the most difficult to preserve. For, he says, in
society, little by little we become conventional,
find'cease to Speak, and at last think; our
own thoughts. He compared it to the slow process
of petrifaction. The soul will wear the
same semblance as before, but, like submerged
wood, when we come into close contact, it is
icy cold; and if we lift it, we shall find it heavy
as stone. And the Judge tells me that these
results are inevitable?and that all minds coming
under the influences of fashionable life, in
the degree of their conformity, are affected by
it, and that piety has no shield to its hardening
and changing influences; and that if I myself. /,
shall spend my future winters in the fashionable '
circles of New York and Washington. and-mv
summers at Saratoga and Newport, living forever
with persons who have no other aim than
" the pleasures of society," falsely so called,
then I too shall find myself unfitted for the
duties of life, and will make a sad shipwreck
not only of ray own happiness, but of the happiness
of all who may stand associated with
me. Aud the Jud^e pointed out to me several
lovely girls and wives, then promenading the
piazza, whom he assured me were in various
stages of induration.
Of these, several were church members, in
good standing in orthodox and evangelical
churches, and with whom he was intimately
acquainted. I asked him if he had made any
effort to save them from such a ruin of all their
happiness for time and eternity, and he said
that he had done so honestly with those whose
souls were worth saving; but there were some
so utterly devoid of all appreciation of the nobility
of womanhood, that the sooner they danced
themselves into the grave, the better it would
be for the world. It was perfectly frightful to |
hear Judge B talk; and I was frightened i
out of nay wits as he told me of the physical
results of a fashionable life upon women. He
said he had it told him by an eminent physician
of New York, whose wife had attended seven
up-town bridal parties in the winter of I85?>-'7,
and six of these brides were now in their graves,
and the seventh a hopeless invalid! A similar
statement I remember to have been made to
mother by Mrs. Dr. C . Bat this has noth- i
ing to do with Rev. Dr. Bulloch's discourse.
On reaching the Methodist Church, we were
met by a gentleman who seated us in a central
pew, where we found a full supply of hymn
books 5 and in due course of Divine service, Dr.
B came to his sermon, which he preached
from iii John's Gospel, 5th verse?" Except a
man he born of water and of^he Spirit, he cannot
enter into the Kingdom of God." His opening
showed that baptismal regeneration was
not the doctrine of the text; and this done, he
made an admirable discourse, which came close
home to the business and bosoms of* the attdim?oir;n
u ,-i? i:..i.
cuvv? lujoni ui |mi vivuiai* nr maur tunc uac
of note.", as 1 am told is the custom of Western
preachers. His words had much more of impressiveness
followed as they were by the glance
of his eye?such eyes! and giving significancy
and force to every gesture.
As Aunt Jane is too feeble to go out in the
afternoon, I asked Mr-. C to go with me to
hear Dr. Adams, of Madison Square Church.
With her accustomed kindness and courtesy,
she granted my request; and we two went alone, i
for Dick preferred to remain, and keep his!
mother company. The text was from what the '
Doctor termed the nexus of St. Paul's noble
Epistle to the Romans, uniting the first eleven
chapters of the doctrines of the Chtftch of God
with the duties of Christians, and which make
up the remainder of this Epistle. This bond
01 union is to be found in the first verse of the
twelfth chapter, thus?"I beseech you, therefore,
brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye
present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable
unto God, which is your reasonable
service." In a brief introduction, Dr. Adams
said the slightest scholarship would show that
the word translated "your bodies " should read
"yourselves," which was the intensity of expression
in the original of Paul. It was a discourse
calculated to produce a powerful impression
upon the audience, and was most
proper to be preached before such a congregation
as was here assembled, coming from all
sections of our country, endowed by God with
His best gifts of talents, wealth, and influence,
in their several homes. It certainly made me
feel the solemnity and responsibility of living.
After church, Mrs. C and myself made a
circuitous walk homewards, for I wanted to
converse with her about the sermon.
So soon as we were out of the crowd, I told
her how I had beeu impressed, and that it
seemed to me I could only realize the life urged
by St. Paul, and enforced by Dr. Adams, by
seeking out, with C^wper,
u A lodge in ?ome v??t wilderpe??.
Home bounditftt contiguity of *had<v'
where the hum of busy life could never reach
me. And she responded with entire sympathy
to all my despondency. She, too, felt it was
impossible to live np to the high demands of a
spiritual Hfe, surrounded by society so utterly
hostile to the soul's aspirations for heaven.
" And then," she said, "lite is such an enigma!
Why waa I born, and what more have I to do
and to suffer ? What is living, but one long
sigh after repose?" And so we two walked
till the sun was sinking, making the day glorious
in its end, as I hope all our lives will be.
We then, having said all we had to say, came
to the conclusion that we would now go to
Aunt Jane's room, and tell her of all that we
had heard and of all that we had said. She
was expecting us, and was alone, for I met
Dick and Amelia on the piazza?a most undesirable
place for Sunday.
We sat down, and having told all we could
remember, we then went on to repeat our own
conclusions. Aunt Jane heard us with her
wonted loving-kindness, *nd then said, " My '
dear Mrs. C??, and yon my niece, are fitted
for your several walks in life, to which God, in
His holy providence, has appointed you. The
prayer of our God and Saviour was, not that
' hia diapinlen ahnuld bp taken out of the world.
bat that, being in the world, they should be
kept from the evil.' It is your duty to live a
life of loving sympathy with the world around
you ; not conforming to the -tinful practices of
the world, making no war upon society, but by
pureness, by gentleness, by goodness, professing
to be the disciples of Christ, like him, learn
not to please yourselves, and to do good. This
will call Sot a daily bearing of the cross of selfsacrifice.
This notion of yours, that seclusion
from all society is the first duty of a Christian,
is to repeat the mistakes of ascetics of the third
and fourth centuries, when the deserts of Egypt
and Syria were filled with hermits, male and
female, whose existence was a frightful curse
to the church of Christ, and to themselves a
horrible ordeal of temptation. Having said so
much, we will now go down to a supper, not
made of corn or wheat unbroken and a cup of
water, but of nice biacuit and rolls, with butter,
and slice* of cold tongue, and a cup of black
tea, made by Bridget for our especial use; and
I think, when you have done your supper, you
both win he better fitted to attend our evening
devotions than you would be, supping as hermits
do."
?
?? I
r- _ I, _
rtr \i
.rj \
5 ' ' i if r, .
? ==:
BAILEY, EDITOR AN
WASH
So Mm. C. and I went with Aunt Jane to
tea, and I think I never ate such rolls, nor ever
drank such tea. The very idea of a cell and
cold water gave my supper a zest perfectly delightful,
as it did also to Mrs. C. So we concluded
we would be better Christians in all life
to come in the circles in whieh we were called
upon to lire.
After prayers, Mrs. C and Dick and I i
went down into the grand hall and npon the
piazzas, where we found a multitude of folks,
occupied in walking, standing, sitting, talking <
the same things that they had done on every i
day and evening of their sojourn in Saratoga, i
They respected public opinion too much to >
dance, and were too fashionable to sing hymns, i
so we left them to their gossip, and went down i
street to the Union, where it is not considered
unfashionable by the guests to spend the evening
in their great room, singing hymns and 1
praying. This expression of a gracious state '
still lives in this greSt centre of society, and 1
only there. The ^Congress Hall cannot get up
a prayer meeting'on Sanday night; and I was i
glad to see so goodly a number of visiters en- i
gaged in the old-fashioned custom of tinging i
hymns, listening to short exhortations, ana
joining in thanksgiving and prayer. These
exercises continued' ti? near ten o'clock, when
the compauy retired.
The moou had risen, tipping with silver the
tail pinee which stand like sentinels, rising high t
above the trees of the Congress Spring park. ;
The air was warm, and with one accord we
strolled along the now almost deserted walks,
drinking in tne soothing sounds Nature sends,
forth, inviting to rest, and enjoying the silences
of night. We did not talk, bat paced auietlv
along in the sweetest sympathy of soul with
the scenes around us. Standing where the
moon shone full upon as, Mrs. C?? stopped,
and in tones beautifally clear and silvery recited
the hvmn,
" When shall we meet again.
Meet ne'er 10 sever," be.
" Let us go home," she whispered, as she
finished her beautiful recitation ; and with reluctant
steps and slow, in unbroken silence we
returned to onr hotel, and hastened to our several
rooms. I wished you were with us.
My dear G***, ever yours, Nftta.
" SOCIETY AT SARATOGA."
Saratoga society?
What endless variety!
What piulcs of propria!) !
What gems of?sobriety !
What garrulous old folks,
What shy folks and hold folks.
And warm folks and cold folks'
Such curious dressing.
And tender caressing, <
(Of course that is guessing !)
Such sharp Yankee-Doodlei,
And damlitied noodles,
And other pet-poodles I
Such very loud patterns,
(Worn often hy slatterns,)
Sueli hoops?' ig as Saturn'*'
Such straight neeks and bow nerks,
Such dark necks.and snow necks,
And high ner.ka and low necks'
With this sort and that sort.
The lean and the fat sort,
T'.c bright and the fiat sort?
Saratoga i? crammed full,
And rammed full, and jammed full.
(( dure noi -ay (1?d fa II ')
Boston Pbst.
Dr. BAI LEY'S COSMOPOLITAN LOVE OF
LIBERTY AND HITMAN PROGRESS.
White Pi.aixs, N. Y., Avgvst, 1859.
To the Editor of the National Era:
I hope it is not too late now to pay a just
tribute to the memory of the late Dr.JBailey.
I have something I would fain tmf of him.
His contemporaries among American journal*
ists have dwelt upon his courageous advocacy of
Anti-Slavery principles. This no doubt was the
most prominent feature of his public life ; but
there is another stand-point from which I love
to contemplate him, wnich American journalists
have, I believe, passed over in silence. I
allude to the position taken by Dr. Bailey on
the late war in Europe between the Czar of
Russia and the Sultan of Turkey, together with
his allies. In that episode of his life, I claim
that he showed the exalted and sterling moral
courage which distinguished his career in domestic
politics. Let me endeavor to recall the
situation. While the Russo Turkish imbroglio
was in the stage of diplomacy, the leading Republican
journals vehemently denounced the
course of the late Czar Nicholas, and took occasion
loudly to censure the Governments of Great
Britain and France for their alleged lukewarmness
in opposing that course. This was in 1853 ;
but by the middle of 1854, when diplomacy
had made way for actual war, they had changed
all that. They became ardent and daily partisans
of the aggressive policy of Czar Nicholas,
according to which he hoped to subvert the independence
of Europe by the weight of 800,000
ignorant and superstitious " bayonets.'' In
this course our Americo-Russo-Republicans
wore cheerfully aided by the Democratic and
Prn.Slariinf nrcrann s.nH nnliticians. Bv exci
ting the national hatred of England, by constant
suppressions of the truth and suggestions
of the false, public opinion in the free States
became effectually Russianized. By 1855, so
thoroughly was this the case, that the special
organs of European opinion in New York city?
French, British, and German?withdrew, exhausted,
from a hopeless conflict with an overwhelming
torrent of public opinion.
At this time a broad gulf lay between European
and American public opinion?a gulf
whose existence was extremely pernicious to
the health of the .American mind. 1 well remember
the bitter mortification with which I,
a Republican Briton, used to listen to piercing
appeals to the principles of morality, civilization,
and universal liberty, delivered in behalf of
Kansas, followed by jealous invective against
the same cause in the Trans-Danubian Principalities
and the Crimea. It required a hard
struggle, and much philosophy and forbearance,
to heartily sympathize with the Republicans of
the free States, while these very men were sup- ;
plying from their rauks the most persevering
defame rs of the course held dear by me and the 1
European Liberals generally. At that time
I declined, in consequence, to take out my naturalization
papers.
TKiu nainAil onH oKru>lrin rr innnntrmllv nn I '
the part of his confrires and fellow-partisans
was quickly recognised by the keen intellect,
and still more by the bright, unsullied sensitive
moral perceptions, of the late revered editor of
the Era. And this fine moral nature, nnblunted
by the hard uses of the world, was accompanied
and fortified by an equally rare degree
of courage. Not only was Dr. Bailey one of
those who would refuse to follow a multitude
to do evil?even a multitude of friends?but
he was precisely one of those lofty and intrepid
natures who would dare confront that multitude
of friends, and rebuke them (more in sorrow
than in anger) for their derelictions. Perceiving
a persistent course of wrong-doing on
the part of his co-partisans, and no rebuke
thereof, Dr. Bailey did not hesitate to break
the silence in behalf of an unpopular cause,
and in opposition to a majority of those with
whom he was accustomed to act. On May 21,
1855, Dr. Bailey commenced a series of masterly
and exhaustive articles on the merits of
the European contest. Those admirable articles
lie now before me, and are religiously preserved
in my scrap book.
Of all the prominent journalists of the United
States, Dr. Bailey was the first to denounce
Russian Americanism, the first to combat an
untimely and unreasonable hatred <Jf the English,
the first to recall to view the plain first
principles of international polities as applicable
to that great war. This clear, cogent
voice from Washington seemed to reanimate \
the drooped spirits of European Liberals in *
the United States. The Courtier des Eiati 1
Urns once more resumed its trenchant criticisms
of the New York press, which had been f
for months discontinued is despair and die- t
couragement; Dr. Bolger was emboldened to i
blow his potent blasts through the Tndepertd t
ent. The columns of the -Erabear teStimouy?^
atk
D .PROPRIETOR; JOH
INGTON, D. C., THURi
to the fact that numerous correspondents of i
European birth, both resident on this continent,
in Scandinavia, and Germany, announced
their warm adhesion to the course taken by the
chivalric editor. A new link of confidence
was formed between European and American
friends of liberty; the distrusts of the latter
awakened in the breasts of the former was in '
a great degree wiped away by Dr. Bailey, and
I at least can declare that ir I overcame my
momentary objections to naturalization, and
eventually cast in my lot with the Republicans
of New \ork, to help them keep that powerful
and populous State true to the cause of American
civilisation, they must to a great degree
thank Dr. Bailey for this circumstance, as he,
in a time of doubt and trial, proved that there
were influential Republicans wbp dared in the
face of all the worid to tread under foot national
prejudice, when that prejudice conflicted
with their dnty to troth, molality, and civilization.
I have had eight years of practical experience
in the field of U nited States journalism,
and I can certainly speak as one free from any
suspicion of local bias and predilection. Thus
qualified to give an opinion, I declare that, to
the best of my belief, Dr. Bailey surpassed all
other leading American journalist* in a cam- >
bination of these two qualities, so grand in his
profession, namely, sincere cosmopolitan love
of liberty, and high-mettled intrepidity in defending
bis principles whenever assailed, either
by friends or foes.
It was never my good foitnne to see Dr.
Bailey face to face. A photograph is all that
can remind mo now of his physique; yet I believe
he had few warmer admir??s than myself.
His family may well be proud of the father <
they possessed; rich is the legacy of charac- \
tor he haa left them. It will require all their ]
efforts to elevate themselves to the standard he <
reached in his day and generation.
Yours, Pi.ymocth. j
From Chamber*'* Journal ^ J
THE INAPPLICATION OF CIRCLES. <
As the rouud globe on which we live may be |
called a sort of solid circle, made up of an in- ,
finity of other circles?composed of earth and ,
water?within and upon each other, so the in- ,
habitants of the said globe are similarly con- ,
stituted of innumerable circles, likewise. ,
It is the title which society has agreed to bestow
upon its own multitudinous phases, and is
the very happiest, perhaps, which could possi- ,
bly have been selected tor that purpose. No |
other term could express, at once, completeness ]
and insularity so well. Squares of society, ]
rhomboids, parallelograms, might indeed sug- ,
gest the compactness of these sets of the human
family with equal accuracy, but could never be- ,
btow such an idea of independence. One side
at least of such figures could coincide with,
could be ' applied, toas Euclid has it, the side
of another figure, and so amalgamate with it, i
which the things that they were intended to
typify never can. Circles, on the other hand,
can but touch one another in one point?which
itself has no parts or magnitude?and the result
even then is only friction and disagreement.
When the big wheel of a carriage, for
instance, happens to catch the little wheel?
which only happens iu general overturns and
the like?no fusion of any kind takes place,
but rather the reverse. Circles can cut one
another, it is true, but that does.not make the
adaptation of their name, to social life, by any
means less apposite. At all events, the term is
universally acknowledged, and may be taken
for granted. As 4< the great world " represents
in some mouths, not the universe or its inhabitants,
hut a certain small quantity of individuals
dwelling in an inextensive district of London,
so " the Circles," pure and simple, is sometimes
put for the crime de la crime of the divers
cliques of the hum%n family. We once knew
a young gtntleman reftiee to ask for beck a* -a, I
dinner-party, because it was a thing not done
" in the Circles " ? a curious method of expressing
a no less curious state of artificial
restraint.
Every Circle of society is bounded by a line
of its own, supposititious like the equator, but
not less distinctly defined ; and as each of the
countless stars of the firmament shares, doubtless,
the impression of the author of The Plurality
of Worlds, that there are no stare?with
anything in them?besides itself, so each Circle
ignores its fellows, and ludicrously imagines
its own particular centre to be the centre of all 1
other systems whatsoever. There is, however, ?
one exception to this rule, the Best Circles, j
which are hankered alter by the denizens of al- 1
most every other sphere. 1
Within their charmed round it is far more 8
dangerous to tread than anywhere else; for not
only are the blest indwelters of that retreat most' 1
superciliously scornfnl?as it is their undoubted 8
privilege to be?of any would-be photographer 8
of its likeness, but every little hanger-on to the 8
extreme edge of its circumference, every gross- 1
est atom longing to fly np from it? native earth I
to so elevated a sphere, is prone to take up the
cudgels, and hector in its defence, as though
by such a course it intimated its own connection
with it. " You've never been there yourself,''
would be the malicious sarcasm cast upon
any man who Rhould attempt to describe the
material of the moon, even though he should
confine himself to reproducing the established
theories of green cheese and moonshine; and
the Best Circles are not unlike the moon in
some respects. There is a mild, subdued, and
almost religions light about them, which is borrowed
from the great Sun of Etiquette. They
form no Catherine wheels of brilliant dissipation,
as the Radicals would have us believe,
hut give forth a fine, steady, rose-colored light,
very overpowering, and yet. attractive to the
British eye. Conversation, in the Best Circles, 1
is carried on in a better fashion than in many '
more intellectual ones. Nobody particular o
" views " to enforce ; nobody can get hold of
the universal button-hole of a company, and c
bore them with an unlimited supply of dreary i
information. If there is not so much thinking t
in the Best Circles, as is usual with the major- ii
ity of the hnman family, the people who com- t!
pose them are at least all of the same way of fc
thinking. There is, therefore, no rancorous f]
abuse, no antagonistic obstinн no anything,
in short, which interferes with the pleas- j
ant flow of conversational life. The stream 0
may be sluggish and somewhat shallow, and j,
even not nnmixed with a very lair allowance of ?
mud, but there is no bootless conflict with thw 8
stones, and no " lashers " or eddies, in which 0
the metaphysical and other savage mental g
tribes delight to be whirled round and round f;
without an object Although it is the fashion' e
of most novelists to place the beau-ideal of their u
Gentleman in the Best Circles, he is not often e
to be found there in the flesh. The GaJlant is a
there, no doubt, but not the Knight. In scarce- g
ly any other Circles, indeed, are the chivalrous 0
and self-denying elements less strong, while the c
enthusiasm is, almost without exception, of the
14 early-pea " description, forced, and with rerj ^
little flavor. Poiiteness, however, there imiUAah
?i-> mann Wlwtlias Unrl ? 11 a iVinia "fA
iAICfl OU UJOHJ vsawaavsoj ?uu UUD U1CU pWVCO, ^
ill outward appearance, so well?the necessity ^
for the use of the genuine articles being also t|
exceedingly rare, that they are scarcely missed. a
In particular, from the consciousness that they &
interfere with the amenities of social life, which ,<
we cultivated in the Best Circles to great per- g
Section, Egotism, and even Selfishness, are com- ?
gelled to hide their more repulsive features?a
victory which is elsewhere often unattainable ^
?y the highest convictions.
Our young friend, who went without his fi
favorite liquor out of deference to this body,
x>r formed a very superfluous act of self-denial. h
the native inhabitants of the Best Circles are n
he very last to become victims to mere forma- 0
mt they may give ontto the vulgar a very em- fa
Mtrrassiag code of regulations, and fence about ?
heir own approaches with the moat, ridiculous ft
m pediments, but they themselves are the freest tl
jeople under the son. ti
Whilq, indeed, the full-dressed and uncom- ai
brtsWe snobs are struggling upon their tiptoes y*
o get a gSntpse over the enchanted pale, the m
jobs are lounging within it at their ease, in li,
Iressmg-gmr* had dippers. The very few ar- w
ificial folks one meets among them, careful n
??? ? ?B?%
* ' ' 1 ' ' ' 1
ISS1
?|t* .4 -.W'i ;
N G. WHITTIER, COI
3DAY, SEPTEMBER 8.
ihout their conduct and behaviour, are always
hose who have no natural business there.
Perfect naturalness?so long, that is, as the name
be not distressingly deep or earnest-?which,
n other societies, is the attribute of Genius
done, is indeed the peculiar virtue of the Best
Dirties, and constitutes their chiefest charm.
Fhe pains and penalties of the social tread-mill,
he * callings," the u cuttings," the u who-shallake-whom-down-to
dinners, are the embarrassnents
of comparatively low life, the barbarous
mactments of persons who connect discomfort
rith aristocracy.
It is therefore no wonder that most other
actions of Society, however exclusive, should
nak* an exception in favor of such a class.
2ven the so called Religious Circles smooth
heir brows, and lengthen their lips, when Sir
Jar Beau Monde is whirling by, although it is
reil known, that Lady Mabel has a separate
tstablishment in Paris, and neither of them, if
dl tales be true, lead the lives of chastened per(ons:
whereas, if it were Mr. Thomas Brown
of the Commercial Circles) who was so often
teen with that Mrs. Sloper, whose husband has
i colonial appointment, these pious folks would
thiver, as he passed, from head to foot. Per?aps
there is no class so altogether ignorant of
fcflt Wferld without as {heirs, $or any so if diglant
that the World in its tnrn should be un-"
acquainted with them aud their concerns.
We were once present in a company of our
ellow countrymen of the North, when the in
erioruy 01 tne English happened to form the
inbject of conversation.
To give you an idea," said one, " of the exreme
ignorance of even their educated classes,
[ met an English barrister last summer, at
3ban, who did not know what I meant when I
eferred to the great Disruption. He positivey
understood me to be alluding to some volcanic
disturbance I "
Only second to this Circle in their complete
solation from the rest of mankind, and in their
t>elief, nevertheless, that they form the focus of
attraction for all other classes, are, singularly
enough, the Sporting Circles. The mystery of
their tones, the solemnity of their manner, and
the confidential character of their absurd communications,
are beyond measure remarkable ;
nor do they conceive it possible that their casual
companion, in a railway carriage or elsewhere,
can l>e other than well informed of, at all events,
ill that Bella Life can teach him.
We had once the privilege of sitting next to
Miss Cruciform, a Tractarian young lady, at
linner, when Captain Marker St. Leger, of the
Sporting Circles, was making conversation to
her upon the other side. It was when the robbery
at Rogers's bank had just been effected,
ind this was the manner in which Captain St.
Leger broke ground in performing his colloquial
duty to his neighbor:
" What a very sad thing that is about poor
3am Rogers, Miss Cruciform ! "
"Yes, indeed: poor Samuel Rogers! Did
pou know him ? " [The young lady was naturally
surprised at the gallant captain's apparent
intimacy with the Poetical Circles.]
" Know him ! Ay, indeed ; and I am afraid
1 shall lose a great deal of money by him, too,"
replied he.
u I trust not," said she. " I understand there
a no danger of that."
" Then you know a great deal more about it
ihan me," responded he, in a tone of annoyance ;
- ana yet i naa 11 irom x^ora ueorge ntmseit.
" Indeed ! I saw it stated in the newspapers,
hat the whole loss, at the worst, would not be
more than thirty thousand pounds; and, in
ihort, that it was nothing mare than temporary
nconvenience."
u Newspapers! What do they know about
it?" cried the excited captain. "I tell you.
Miss Cruciform, between ourselves, that I stand
jo win five thousand by the mare, myself; and
fSam Rogers ain't well enough to ride ."
M To ride, Captain St. Leger I" ejaculated
fte'ywmg lady. u I am speaking- of "Mr. Rog?rs
the poet, whose bank was robbed last week
)f Ruch a sum of money."
" Dear me," laughed the captain ; " and I
sras speaking of poor Sam Rogers the jockey,
srho broke his collar bone on Tuesday, and
sron't be able to ride the favorite for the Oaks
o-morrow."
A SHAM DUEL.
From the New Orleans Delta, Augnsl 10.
The colossal joke of the season was perpetrated
in Carrollton, last,evening, in the way of
i sham duel. The victim selected was a young
gentleman of excellent social parts, and perxaps
a very brave fellow in his way, if he knew
ximself to be in a good cause?though he
ihowed himself to be a little nervous yesterday.
A difficulty had been arranged between him
xnil o nnfKor vnnmf crt>ntloart nf iKo Anrw\oUa I
lide of the river, and he wan induced to send
i challenge, which was of course accepted.
Last evening was the time for the meeting to
.ake place, and both principals appeared on the
ground with their seconds and a surgeon.
L>ouble-barreled shot-guns were in readiness,
oaded with heavy charges of powder and?
wadding. The stillness of death prevailed as
he seconds went through a most unusuallv
ong series of ceremonious preparations, to all
>f which our hero was a blank witness?his
ace wearing the hue of linen just from the
lands of the laundress.
Everything being prepared, our hero's sec>nd
took him aside, to whisper a few hints in
lis ear. M It will be, doubtless, impossible for
roo to obtain a deliberate aim at your oppolent
between the words," said he, " have
lit upon a capital expedient to give you a dead
hot. I shall drop your hat right on the line,
uid a few steps in front of you. When you
tand, hold your gun pointing directly at the
tat, and as soon as you hear the word fire,
aise it on a line and fire, without losing a sec?nd."
Our hero was delighted with this brilliant
conception, and readily allowed his hat, which
ras one he had just bought in this city, and
ook much pride in, to be used in the manner
ndicated by his second. He took his position,
hirty paces from that of his adversary, and
leld his gun with the muzzle only a few inches
rom the crown of his new head-piece.
M Are you ready?" cried one of the seconds.
Jefore an answer could be given, hang went
>ur hero's gun, the wadding in it blowing his
tat to pieees. A cry came from his opponent
X the same time, and looking towards him, he
aw him fall to the ground, pressing his hand
in his led side. The fallen man's second
houted, u Foul play! that shot was fired beore
the word." At the same time drawing an
mpty pistol from his pocket, and levelling it
ipon our hero, who, horrified at this unexpecid
array of circumstances, threw up his handB,
..4 o_J u:. u c i ?
fill |?1ICU IU U&B 3CLWUU, Ott > * Lilt-, BttVC LLIC i
lome one on the ground shouted, "runJ" and
ff our hero put, at a pace that vould have done
redit to a professional pedestrian.
The constable, who had been watching the
an from behind the fence, now started after
ite fugitive, and a number joined in the chase.
)ur hero made for the woods, and so distanced
is pursuers as to secure a hiding place among
lie brush that none could discover. At length,
s the constable was about desisting from the
earch, he heard a low whisper of " O, Steve t "
Holloa, where are joa ? " he returned. " O,
iteve; won't you protect me if 1 come out ? "
Certainly," answered the constable. " I am
n officer of the law, and bound to do so." Our
ero then made his appearance, and under the
rotection of the constable returned to the
ekl.
Here was n scene to have melted the sternest
eart Stretched upon the grass, and feebly
loaning, Was our hero's antagonist. A bundle
f eloth, saturated with red ink, was tied around
is waist. The Doctor motioned for the aproaching
party to stand back, that the poor
illow was breathing his last. Onr hero saw
lat he had no more immediate danger to ancipate,
and immediately observed, w Yes, I
imed straight for his heart." " How came i
du to blow your hat to pieces, then?" inquired
>me one. This bint seemed to bring a new t
ght to the mind of eur hero, and he perhaps
ould have smelt a rat of huge dimensions had >
ot his second observedj " Yonr shot struck the
v j
EI
; ** i ==
IRES PONDING EDITC
, 1859.
ground, and glancing up, struck your opponent
in bis side.''
Reassured, our hero now seized upon this
view of the matter to explain why he had not
exactly hit the spot he aimed at, his antagonist's
heart. u I am afraid this will prove a gallows
matter to you," observed the constable.
At this remark, our hero became suddenly faint;
so much so that he found himself unable to
walk into town unassisted. They got a wagon
for bis accommodation, and amused themselves
with his fears for an hour before they let him
into the joke. The best part of it all is, that
when they told him bow the matter really was,
and all parties were brought together, the victim
took it iu excellent part, and forgave them
all for the trial to which they had subjected his
feelings." _
LORD BROUGHAM ON WEST INDIA
EMANCIPATION.
The twenty fifth anniversary of the abolition
of Slavery in the British Colonies was celebrated
on the 3d of August, by a public meeting, at
the Music Hall, Bedford square, in London,
over which Lord Brougham presided.
The attendance was large and respectable,
and upon the platfrom, in addition to the venerable
President, were many distinguished
friends of negro freedom.
Lord Brougham, in opening the proceedings,
after briefly acknowledging the enthusiastic receDtion
which preetod him i,n?n
-r?
chair, said:
" It naturally gives us all great satisfaction
that we have lived to see accomplished this
great measure of Slavery abolition, than which
there was none in the whole history of our
career at all superior in importance or in virtue,
or in what may be expected to be its beneficial
consequences, and that we have now, by the
goodness of Providence, been spared to witness
the twenty-fifth anniversary of that great event,
a quarter of a century to-day having elapsed
since the shackles of the slave were finally struck
off."
Lord Brougham then alluded to Spain and
the United States as nations who had failed to
follow the example of Great Britain. Of the
United States he said :
" I grieve to say that our brethren, our kinsfolk
in America, furnish another exception to
our example ; but of that I would speak tenderly,
from recollecting that America has acted
admirably in many respects, and even abolished
the slave trade a year before we ourselves did.
Even in Georgia, which is as devoted to the
' institution/ as they are pleased to call it, as
any of the Southern States, it was our fault,
and not theirs, that they ever had Slavery, for
we pressod it upon them, and they refused it.
They protested against it, but we defeated them;
and it is our fault that that' institution' prevails
in those States."
After a glowing tribute to Wilberforce, Clarkson,
Joseph Sturge, James Stephen Macaulay,
Henry Thornton, who, with himself, labored for
the cause of emancipation, and a brief recital of
the struggle for abolition, Lord Brougham
thus referred to the practical results of Freedom
:
" Now that emancipation has put the negro
on the same footing as the white in point of
rights and privileges, it is fit that we should for
a moment stop to consider what his behaviour
has been under the change; and nothing can
be more satisfactory than all accounts of the
conduct of the slaves. It was expected by some,
that on the 1st of August, 1834, there would be
an outbreak, and that the sudden liberation of
persons who had so long been confined and
under the influence of oppression, would occasion
conduct that was not consistent with the
public peace. Never was any apprehension
more completely falsified by the result. [Henr,
hear.] On that day there was all over the
West Indies, I venture to say, among the
850,000 negroes whom we had liberated, the
most- perfect peace, uninterrupted by riot or debauchery.
In that country, where nature provokes
the passions, and where the stimulus of
intemperance is dealt out with a profuse hand,
there was no instance to be found, in all the
Caribbean Sea, of intoxication or of riot from
intoxication. On the contrary, the churches
and chapels were filled. Successions of congregations,
one after another, frequented them,
in order to testify their gratitutde to God for
the great boon which Providence had bestowed
on them. [Cheers.] Those people, as pious
as the nature of man will allow, spent that day
in piety and devotion, and not the slightest
breach of the peace or act of intemperance
was perceived. Then it was said, 4 They will
not work.' The result has proved the contrary.
They are not at all indisposed to work. Give
them wages, and they will work. No doubt
they will prefer cultivating their own yam-gardens,
if you do not give them adequate wages;
but, when they have adequate wages, they will
work as well as can be desired, not only at cotton
and indigo, but at sugar also.
44 It was said at the time that the supply of
sugar would greatly fall off; hut we have positive
proof from the most undoubted authority
that where they are well treated, and proper
wages are given, the supply of sugar in the district
is not diminished by emancipation. Indeed,
it was stated by the Marquis of Sligo
some years ago in the House of Lords, that
there was one district in his Government, he
having been Governor of Jamaica, in which a
twofold greater produce of sugar had been
made bv free neeroes than bv slaves in former
times. That, I admit, appears to have been a
peculiar case, and therefore I do not mention
it as an average; hat, as a general rule, I say
that there has been no diminution in the growth
of sugar, and no want whatever of men to work
at proper wages. [Hear, hear.] This subject
has lately been made a matter of controversy,
and an inquiry is now going on, from which I
hope truth will be obtained, and from which we
shall see whether there are not exceptions?as
I don't doubt there may be?to that rule. For
instance, I am told that Barbados stands in a
different position from Jamaica in that respect,
and that Barbados is flourishing; ail the respectable
testimony which we have from Barbados
is to the effect that there is no want of
sugar, and that its growth has increased instead
of falling off. The former slave stands
now in a different position with respect to the
community, in consequence of the change that
has taken plaee, from that which he occupied
before. He has the same interest now as his
master. It becomes his interest that the master
should profit, for his wages are to be paid
out of gains of his master. The profits of the
planter are the fund out of which his wages
must be paid; consequently, they have a common
interest, and he ought to rejoice in everything
that tends reasonably and without any
abuse to the profit of the planter. [ Hear, hear. ]
That many planters have suffered, that many
will continue to suffer, is undeniable; and those
particularly will suffer whose estates are under
mortgage. It may be said, indeed, that it all
depends upon that, and that those whose estates
are not under mortgage are flourishing; but,
as a very great many estates are unfortunately
in that condition, I fear that a considerable
proportion of proprietors have suffered. But
there have been many sufferers also by their
advocacy of emancipation ; and when I mention
the name of Mr. Stephen, I am reminded of the
last act of his public life, when, having been the
steady supporter of the then Government, he,
in t.hn tear 1 S I . mta on hia nlar>? in Parlie.
merit and all hope of preferment, and retired
into private life, because he conscientiously differed
from his political friends?the Government
of the day?hi a question regarding Africa
and the slave trade. Such men also as
George Thompson and others, both in this
country and the United States, despising the
danger to which in some cases they were exposed,
and the loss which in all cases they underwent,
labored in this great and good cause,
and honor be to their names! [Cheers.] I
could name other instances, and, if it were not
selfish, and a slight matter compared with the
sacrifices wnich others have encountered, I
might name my own case, f Loud cheers.] I
grudge not, but look back with satisfaction and
delight to the labor of nearly sixty years in the
cause: but I was about to state a different kind
of sacrifice which I made most .cheerfully, I
| ]
-JB
) R.
??; ? ~ -; No.
662.
i lost an estate in the West TtwlUa nrKinK T ?kiAnl/1 I
not much have valued, and I lost an estate in
the north of England which I should very much
have valued, by a kind individual who had
made me his heir to both estates, altering his
will, because I wonld not in 1833 abandon the
cause of emancipation. [Cheers.] I have
grown old in these labors, but this is an occasion
on which I may say,
" 'E'en in onr a?he* itve their wonted lire#.'
It is difficult to avoid feeling a renewal of what
one has not intermitted but only relaxed in
pressing, and relaxed of late years, because the
occasion had ceased."
[Lord Brougham, on resuming his seat, was
loudly cheered.]
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
The New York Times furnishes the following
account of the Aurora of Sunday night
week. The same phenomenon was viewed in
this city, but on a less splendid scale, probably |
owing to the fact that no clouds were visible to 1
reflect the transient glory of the heavens :
" The present generation have listened with
wonder and admiration to the stories their
fathers and mothers have tpld. them of auroras
and meteors. They have opened ear? and
months and eyes as they heard of stars falling
from the heavens like rain, of the sky at night
becoming red on with blood, and in the daytime
of its being so darkened that stars were
visible. Few have had opportunities of witnessing
these sublime displays -, but on Sunday
night the heavens were arrayed in a drapery
more gorgeous than they have been for vears.
The phenomena then witnessed are worthy recording,
and comparing with previous appearances
of a like character, as they will be referred
to hereafter among the events which occur
but once OP twice in n lifotimo
" Sunday was very much such a day as could
be expected at this season of the year. Perhaps
it may have been a trifle cooler than usual,
but this was attributed to the rain which fell in
the morning. With the change of wind to the
west, the temperature fell noticeably towards
evening, until it seemed like that which more
appropriately belongs to the middle or latter
part of September. Soon after sunset, the
streamers which mark every appearance of the
Aurora were visible in the north. As the twilight
deepened, the ' merry dancers ' ventured
from their hiding-places and played along the
horizon as though successive sheets of impal
pable flame were sweeping over the sky. Then
they shot up to a point nearer the zenith, and
joined company with their sisters from the east
and west. The flashes from the south were
fewer and less brilliant. The appearance of
the horizon in this direction was in striking
contrast with that towards the north. Then a
bright arch, spanning nearly ninety degrees,
sprang up, supporting and apparently originating
three floating, quivering sheets of fire. To
the south, the sky was of a dark leaden-colored
hue, which contrasted oppressively with the
surrounding brilliancy. At first, the light was
of that peculiar whitish tinge which all have
observed in similar displays on winter nights.
This became deeper and more intense, until it
lighted up the night as though the moon were
shining. With this, a beautiful tint of pink
finally mingled. The clouds of this color were
most abnndant to the northeast and northwest
of the zenith. There they shot across one
another, intermingling and deepening until the
sky was painfully lurid. There was no figure
the imagination could not find portrayed by
these instantaneous flashes. The beautiful
eeronal of light which was first exhibited north
of the zenith point, was gradually thrust further
and further to the south, until it became stationary
at a point the definite locality of which
the astronomers must settle. Between 10 and
10i o'clock, the display was overpoweringly
brilliant and beautiful. After that, it gradually
faded. Now aud then there were light
1 nn.&V?oa_ Hill thi? Itinlr VillO rra xro, war olmAot
tirely to the yellow. It was remarkable as indicating
the perfect transparency and luminousness
of these sheets of name, that the stars,
whose light was not eclipsed by this superior
brilliancy, were distinctly visible through their
covers of light.
" Such was the Aurora, as thousands witnessed
it from housetops and from pavements.
Many imagined that they heard rushing sounds,
as if ^Eolus had let loose the winds. Others
were confident that a sweeping, as if of flames,
was distinctly audible; but if these same individuals
will but listen this or any other evening
as attentively as they did Sunday, they*can
satisfy themselves that the identical sounds are
always perceptible on a quiet night.
"Undoubtedly, the watchmen of the skies
were on guard in all the observatories throughout
the land, and to these the scientific observations
must be left. When the Scientific Association
shall next convene, and when all of
us shall remember this Aurora as a thing of
the past, we shall be favored with detailed accounts
of the time of its exact appearance, of
the precise locality where it was brightest, and,
finally, long discussions as to the cause will
follow.
" Some account of similar phenomena in
times gone by will undoubtedly be of interest
in this connection.
"Pliny and Aristotle record phenomena identical
with those which later times have witnessed.
The ancients ranked this, with other
celestial phenomena, as portending great
events. In 1560, historians state it appeared
in London, in the shape of 1 burning shears,' j
a similitude which would be no less appropriate i
iinui tKo n it woq iknn . n r\l o no ?1
recorded during the fifteen years following that I
date. During the latter half of the seventeenth 1
century, the phenomena were frequently visible,
oftentimes being characterized by remarkable
brilliancy. After 1745, the displays suddenlydiminished,
and were but rarely seen for the
next nine years. The last century, until within
the last twenty years, has been favored in a
remarkable degree. One of the most interesting
periods of the display of the Aurora was
during the years 1835, 1836, and 1837, the last
exhibition of special interest occurring on November
17.
u Astronomers tell us that the light centres
around the magnetic pole when the display is
of sufficient brilliancy to define the curve, and,
taking this point as that of measurement, they
have attempted to calculate the height of the
sheets of light above the earth. Various observations
made by Prof. Olmsted, in conjunction
with Prof. A. C. Twining, of New Haven,
fix its elevation, on different occasions, at 42?,
100, 144, and 160 miles. Prof. Olmsted claims
that it is rarely less than 70 miles from the
earth, and never more than 160 above it.
" What is the origin of this remarkable
phenomena? The ancients asked the question,
and the moderns reply by repeating the interrogation.
The most popular theory attributes
it to electricity, but that agent has been made
responsible for everything which men did not
know how to account for otherwise. The late
Prnf maintainpd that, it* nricrin Vaa
coemical, or, in other words, that the earth, in
revolving on its orbit, at certain periods, passes
through a nebulous body, which evolved this
strange light in more or less brilliancy, as the
body was larger or smaller. To support this theory,
he attempted to establish that there were
fixed epochs for its display in the highest degree
of brilliancy. He fixed the length of these periods
at from 60 to 09 years, and, if we remember
aright, named 1890 as the time when we might
look for another appearance. The remarkable
display of Sunday night gives those who have
so strongly contested this idea a strong argument
against it, and launches astronomers who
have anchored to it upon the sea of conjecture
agaip." _____
Five million acres of French soil are devoted
to grape culture, producing annually over eight
hundred millions of gallons of wine, at an average
cost of ten cents per gallon. From its
cheapness, it is the almost universal drink of
the people. In Paris, H is computed that each
inhabitant consumes 216 bottles of wine in the
year, :i!
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Geoloot.?Among the freshest and roost in- f j
teresting of scientific topics, are certain facts ,J
concerning which our geologists are in a state 7|
of surprise and excitement; so much so, that 3
an extraordinary meeting of the Geological ?
Society was held to discuss the matter. One is
the discovery of flint implements?knives and t
axe-heads?near Amiens, at the bottom of a
stratum of gravel, and from nineteen to twentyfive
feet below the surface. Tho things have
been actually found in situ?some by English
geologists?where there is no appearanoe of
the gravel ever having been previously dis
turbed ; and what is more remarkable, in a
spot which forms the top of a hill. The implements
are in great numbers; and the concln- 1
sion is, that they testify to the existence of man
on the earth at a period anterior to that commonly
supposed?thus confirming similar con- ;
elusions arawn from the discoveries made in
the Brixham Cave, and elsewhere. The other
fact is one which we hare heretofore incidentally
mentioned?:the exploration of a cave,
Grotta di Maccagnone, near Palermo, by Dr.
Falconer, where bones of extinct species of
animals were found in astonishing quantities, j
along with fragments of charcoal, and knives j
of flint and agate, in grvnt number, imbedded ]
in the breccia. The importance of this discovery
.may bf judged of from the fad that hippopotami
appear to hatfo swarmed on the spot.
Of the bone known to anatomists as the aatrag i
alus, Dr. Falconer picked up nearly a hundred
examples within the space of a few feet; and '
this bone is so easy o" identification as to leave
no room f?r doubt. Tbt. existence of the bones
has long been known to the natives, who have
at times taken from the ancient store to burn
into ivory-black; but this is the first scientific
investigation that has been made of the interesting
deposit.?Chambers'* Journal.
Beware ok Partiso.?Bulwer, the ms-ter
novelist, writes a reflection which will appeal
to the sensibilities of every man and woman :
44 There is one warning lesson in life which
few of us have not received, and no book that
I can call to memory has noted down with an
adequate emphasis. It is this, 4 Beware of parting
? 1 The true sadness is not in the pain of
the parting, it is in the When and the How you
are to meet again with the face about to vanish
from your view 1 From tho passionate farewell 4
to the woman, who has your heart in her keeping,
to the cordial good-by exchanged with
pleasant companions at a watering-place, a
country-house, or the close of a festive day'a
blithe, or a careless excursion?a cord, stronger
or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting,
and Time's busy hngere are not practiced in
resplicing broken ties. Meet again yon may;
will it be again in the same way ? With the
same sympathies ? With the same sentiments?
Will the souls, hurryipg on in divers paths,
unite once more, as if the interval had been a
dream? Rarely, rarely ! Have you not, after
even a year, even & month's absence, returned
to ! same place, found the same groups re- I
assembled, and yet sighed to yourself, ' But I
where is the charm that once breathed from I
the 8pot, and once smiled from the faces?' A I
{>oet said, 4 Eternity itself cannot restore the I
oss struck from tho minute.' Are you happy ?1
in thp snnt in whii^H vnn torrxr witk tKx* nawiAnB J
iuc tiiou ciui^n%i.iuii lut icwo uuiuunieu 10
rather leas than 37 per cent, of the whole. The
amount remitted by Irish settlers in America
for assisting emigration of friends, during the
past year, was about $2,360,000 ; while, as the
whole Irish emigration was only 35,656, the
expense of it conld scarcely hare exceeded
$1,000,000. Daring the ten preceding years,
the suras remitted amounted to $4^,680,000.
The number of emigrants who returned to
the United Kingdom in the year 1858 was
23,704, of whom there came from America
18,841.
Between 1st January, 1847, and 31st December,
1854, no less than 2,444,802 emigrants
left the United Kingdom, or, on an average,
305,600 a year. The highest number, 368,764,
was attained in 1852; the lowest was in 1848,
248,089. _____
Valuable Recips.?The Petersburg bUelli
gt.ncer says the following recipe, now for the
first time made public, may be relied upon as
a spr tfic for the bog cholera. It had been fuily
u-ied and tested on the hogs of a gentleman
of Amherst, Va. The remedy was given in all
the varied stages of the disease, and nnifbrmiy
cured in every case. It will not be impossible,
after all the fruitless efforts hitherto made, to
find out a remedy for Asiatic cholera, that this
one, accidenti r suggested by a young lady to
her father in Amherst, Va., and which was successful
in curing the hogs, may be equally so
in enring man of that terrible disease?
cholera.
** Recipe.?Beat up an ounce or more of assafcetida,
and add say to an ounce a pint of
whisky, or other kind of spirits, and give to the
hog two tables poonafull; it produces an immediate
relief, aud- speedy ana permanent ?ure.
The effect which this drench had on the hog*
... r - ?? j j
whose voices are now melodious to your ear ?
Beware of parting? or, if part you must, say
not in insolent defiance to lime and Destiny : j
4 What matters? we shall soon meet again.'
Alas, and alas ! when we think of the lips which
murmured : 4 Soon meet again,' and remember
how in heart, soul, and thought, we stood forever
divided the one from the other, whoa, once
more face to face, we each only exclaimed,
4 Met again !'
srbmartnt Telegraphing.? A suggestion
has been thrown out, that if the cable were
sunk but a few feet beneath the surface, and
there suspended by elastic spiral buoys, it would
answer its purpose better, aud be more easy of
repair and recovery, than when sunk to the
very bottom of the ocean. We may inquire, in
reply, whether such a cable would resist an
Atlantic storm or a floating iceberg? On the
other hand, Lieutenant Maury, of the National
Observatory, Washington, shows that there are
the best of all reasons lor sinking the cable to
the bottom, because once at rest on the bottom,
and properly coated, it will be indestructible.
He holds that it was a mistake to twist the
heavy iron coat round the conducting wire, necess'tati;
" a cumbrous system of brakes in the
paying-out; because, if only made heavy ,
enough to sink, the telegraphic cord will be
quite safe when sunk to the bottom. He shows,
what is well known to sailors, that if you twist
a spiral covering round a straight core, it is
always the core or heart which suffers most, and
gives way first, when subject to strain. So, instead
of a heavy, stiff iron cable, he would have
his copper wires prepared and coated in the
way described as Rogers's cord," which iB not !
larger than a common log-line, and which can i
be payed out without difficulty in the ordinary
voyage of a ship. Such a cord will sink at the
rate of about two miles an hour, and Lieutenant
Maury feels confident that a divergence of half
a mile is all that is to be apprehended from
currents. 'He professes to deal only with the
Neptunian part of the question, leaving the
electrical to others, and thinks that he has resolved
the difficulty. " I have no doubt whatever,"
lie says, " as to the ultimate success of &
telegraph across the Atlantic. The sea offers
uo obstructions, oa account of its depths or its
currents, to lines of any length. A lino, with
an unbroken conducting wire, across the Atlantic
or the Paei6c, is as practicable as one
across the Alps o* Mm Andes. In the long run,
and mile for mile, I d<> not think there wonld
be much, if any, difference in coat between the
two. The real question for future projectors j
of lines of submarine telegraph is, not how ,
deep, or how boisterous, or how wide the sea
is, nut what arc the electrical limits to the
length of submarine lines."?Chambcra't Jour.
Statistics of Emigration.?The emigration
from Great Britain, during the past year, as
shown by the report of the Commissioners, just
published, says the New York Journal of Commerce,
number 113,972, which is smaller than
during any year since 1855.
The emigration to tho American continent
in 1858 was less than that of 1857, and scarcely
more than one-fourth of the average of the
eight years between 1847 and 1855.
tka t?;.u c? 1010