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the boarders at Rathbun’s give a grand ball
there in a few days. I shall peep in, and
perhaps let you hear of ilie result. Among
our distinguished visiters at this time, is the
Baron Rothschild, head of the far-famed bank
ing house. His errand here is supposed by
some to be the furtherance of measures for
the extension of the business of the firm, in
the United States, Mexico, South America,
China, etc. Others, again, think him bent
only upon the usual pleasures of travel.
During his visit to this city, he makes his
home at Delmonico’s.
A resolution has been introduced into the
Board of Assistant Aldermen, in favor of ap
pointing a committee to confer with a similar
committee from the Common Council of
Brooklyn, on the subject of a union of the
two cities under one charter and one govern
ment. Such an annexation would be a cap
ital remedy for the misunderstandings which,
at present, continually arise between the two
towns. Why should not the States and the
cities play this popular game, as well as the
nation ?
The question touching the whereabouts of
the stray young woman, mentioned in one of
my late letters, has gained a place among the
standing problems of the day. Will salt
petre explode 1 ? Can there be a church with
out a Bishop ? Who is the man in the claret
colored coat ? Has Gung'i arrived? Where
is Marietta Smith ?
Yesterday, most of the omnibus lines here
appropriated their receipts to the aid of the
Messrs. Murphy, the sufferers by the late
extensive fire. Unluckily for the beneficia
ries, the weather was so delightful that riding
was a bore.
The other day, there died here a Mrs. Ra
chel Gredney, at the venerable age of one
hundred and seven years. She was born in
Mamaroneck, in 1741 : her father was an
Indian of the Tappan tribe, and her mother
was a Mohican. She used to talk of the
time when her family pitched their wigwam
on the spot now occupied by the Battery.
Mr. Cooper seems to have quite overlooked
this old lady, when years ago he recorded
the history of the “ Last of the Mohicans.”
The Astor Library, it is said, will he found
ed, and the building erected, next year. It is
almost time that New York realized some
thing from the fortune of its late millionaire,
the citizen “John Jacob.”
An amusing dilemma happened recently in
one of our city courts. An amiable lady,
supposing her husband, so long unheard-of.
to have died in the Mexican campaign, took
the liberty to fill the vacancy occasioned by
his loss. Unluckily, the defunct lately came
to life and claimed his confiscated treasures.
He expressed his willingness to forget and
forgive, under the circumstances —while the
u very latest” husband reluctantly consented
to retire, but considered it extremely mal apro
pos in his predecessor, thus to “turn up.”
The wife left Umm to arrange the matter as
they pleased among themselves. She seem
ed not unwilling to compromise, by taking
either party, or both, as should be agreed on.
Since my last letter, I have found out why
the new Art Union, to which I then alluded,
is to be called the “International.” Instead
of being the affair for which I took it, it is
the long-talked-of institution of the house of
Goupil, Vibert & Cos., and being on a plan
altogether different from our present Estab
lishment, its success is not only very proba
ble, but extremely desirable. I have time
now only for this brief amende , but will chat
with you at length on the subject in another
sheet.
You ask me to gratify your lady readers
with some gossip on matters of fashion and
dress. I had purposed doing so, and when
your request arrived, hastened with alacrity
to collect the requisite material —technically,
“ stuff*.” To this end, I visited the Magazin
des Modes of our princess of French milliners,
and hinted my wish to be initiated into all
© AS SIT If IE ♦
and every sort of toilette mystery. Madane
displayed the greatest empressement , in hr
endeavors to instruct me. After a variety <f j
thread and needle discourses, she triumphal!*
ly called my attention to a beautiful bridsl
attire: u Let me show you, Monsieur,” sal
she, “before it is packed, this exquisite roe
de notes , for the lovely Miss C . It s
but a simple dress of white muslin, almot |
plain, and of a very fine texture. Above tie
hem is traced “en serpentant” a garland ii
delicate embroidery; on the right, five em
broidered bouquets of the most exquisite work
“ montant en diminuant,” to the “ ceinture.’
Observe the embroidery in the centre of th
corsage, and “ des palmettes” on the sleeves,
completing the richness of the dress. See
what a happy selection in the arrangement!
Do you not, Monsieur, admire the “corsage
montant ala Raphael,” finished by a richly
embroidered “entre deux,” and surmounted
by a malines, with very short sleeves, also
ornamented by “malines"—a beii of white
“moire,” fastened by a silver buckle “mat
cisele” encircling her waist. Not a bow of
ribbon —not the vi&tvle j and
yet, Monsieur, what delightful fr(-vhsess,i
what faultless finish ; and how wonde*‘
this “robe de dessurs de gros de rv
glace blanc” displays the beauty of wi: .)
broidery, and adds to the effect! All if
plete in this charming toilette —for
long veil—modest ornament, suggested, My. ,
sieur, by the promptings of a mother's heaShe
to conceal from all the involuntary aghatiom
of. her daughter!”
To this, my dear Sir, add any quarJ|d’ of
“Redingottes en taffetas quadrilles ..
bJancs, sur bleu de France.” “ jupes,” ‘igros- j
ses ruches,” “ guimpe montante,’Q “ sleevgs
bauilronnees,” and Heaven knowsjtOiat, and
tell me frankly, if mortal mar, though never
so gallant, could be exited to brave it and
survive ? JJev ana there I managed to ejac
ulate, “ Charmante !” “Qu’elle est gentelle!”
“ Qu’elle est gracieuse !” and at length made
my escape, with a request to Madame that
she would reduce it all to writing and for
ward to my address! When the budget ar
rives, tell the ladies they shall have it, but I
will not pledge myself to a translation. I
owe duties to my country, and must not ven
ture upon anything rash.
The reminiscence alone of this dangerous
adventure has fatigued me, and must excuse
me from any further gossip to-night.
Ala mort, FLIT.
£cttcrs from ct JJljmicutn.
Roswell, Cobb Cos., Ga. )
Nov. 22, 1848. j
My dear Col. —The political revolutions
that destroy and obliterate old paths, and be
get new things, are not more surprising than
j those which occur in the world of philosophy
and literature. For over a thousand years
the authority of Aristotle was a test of truth,
but when at last the light began to dawn—
when a spirit of enquiry sprang up —the dog
mas of Aristotle faded before the more bril
liant sun of the Cortesian system. The tri
umph of this system is one of the most re
markable revolutions in the history of phi
losophy, and was accomplished solely by the
superiority of genius. In medicinal science,
there have been revolutions. Hippocrates
blended his doctrines with the Platonic phi
losophy—Galen, with his peculiar mind, ar
ranged and put in order the facts and princi
ples established by his greater predecessor,
and without destroying any of the aphorisms
of the “Prince of Physicians,” he developed
a system which acquired an almost undis
puted preeminence. From what has been
called the “empiric rationalism” of Hippo
crates, there was formed, first, the ancient
dogmatic system—then the methodic school
and pneumatic school, and finally the eclec
tic, (81, A. D.) which took from all the oth-
ers. It required such a mind as Galen's to
reduce tire theories, the facts and principles,
which the teachers in these different schools
had “wrapped up in a thick mantle of mere
dialectics, into some tangible form; and he
so well succeeded, that down to the sixteenth
century his authority, like that of Aristotle in
philosophy, was a test of truth. But it is
useless to trace out the various systems which
have each had their strut upon the stage. —
Medicine —not only the science of diseases,
but the art of alleviating them—is founded
on the study of man’s physical and moral na
ture. Like other sciences, it has gained more
from the single discoveries of close observers,
than from centuries of theory. The great
discovery of Harvy, of the circulation of the
blood—the discovery of Jenner, of vaccina
■ tion—or even the illustration of “ adhesive
inflammation,” did more to establish medicine
as a science, than all the fine hypotheses of
the teachers of the Alexandrian schools.
While these different systems were yet
flourishing, men of small intellect—“ in self
assumption greater than in the note of judg
ment”—endeavored to pull down and build
They could not build a substantial fab
! ! .‘ “they concerned themselves not with
•-B v ‘ ir , • • , . . | .
I ~|i sii| erstitions and a total mis
•iu.r-e ! his uttiv .ire. The history of Para
“ L fcJog Sg lat.; and in more modern
jt tv- r ‘-TB of the so-called
■k - m < • the ct.
k: ; Ipa thirty- Hahnemann’s es
-1 .*• .• -o’a total revolution, have
Jit c&'Hnl *y. -it's those of his great proto
rjH-j! v * 1 :t .is Bornbastus Paracelsus, or
tbS;' 1 ’ , ! “on. Priessnitz and Chaponier.
jKT* >iO dj** . 1
A.nu V > •. Simply because he reasoned
from accidental occurrences. There are cer
t..on In * - Governing the animal economy, the
same in all ages and in all places, and these
exercise a controling influence over every
fact relating to the science of diseases.—
Without a just appreciation of these laws, it
is vain for a man to speculate on the art of
curing or relieving the ills to which flesh is
heir. If Hippocrates, in becoming the found
er of scientific medicine, was obliged to sep
erate the results of actual experience from
vain speculation, then he who would build
up a true and original system, must pursue a
like course. This Hahnemann has not done,
but has lost himself in the labyrinth of his
favorite theory— -simil. sim. cur.; and Home
opathy is in fact
“ The sweet delusion of a raptured mind.”
Do you ask for proof of my position ? I
point to the results of Homeopathic treatment
—not the few successful cases scattered here
and there—success which every nostrum of
the day can boast—but to the results of the
treatment as tested in the large hospitals of
Europe.
Having barely hinted at the progress of
medical science, and told you why Homeopa
thy cannot be admitted as a system of legiti
mate medicine, I will occupy the few remain
ing lines of my sheet in replying to your
query, “What had philosophy to do with the
foundation of medicine ?” Medicine, at first,
being the offspring of necessity, knew only
the philosophy of necessity ; but I presume
you mean to enquire, How was Hippocrates
influenced by the philosophy of his time ?
He appears to have retained as much of the
philosophical of Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and
Democritus, as he conceived necessary to a
true and just mode of reasoning. Thus he
says: “We ought to join Philosophy with
Physic, and Physic with Philosophy, for a
Physician that is a Philosopher is like a
god.” And it was just by the mode of rea
soning adopted by Hippocrates, that medicine
at last reached that point, attained soonest by
| other sciences, which admitted of rigorous
deductions. To show you that certain rules
may be deduced, I need only turn to the pages
of Pinel and Bichat. Os the latter, it has
been asserted, “he did more to perfect our
knowledge, than all the hypotheses that have
ever appeared.” He who would pursue the
study of medicine on fixed principles, mint
first have an accurate knowledge of human
anatomy. A mere observer of nature woi 1 i
never make a Physician, any more than the
simple contemplation of the heavens an As
tronomer. Your’s, faithfully,
bayard.
To Col. N. J. B.
(Eclectic of tbit.
RHYME AND REASON.
BY THOMAS HOOD.
To the Editor of the Comic Annual.
Sir : In one of your Annuals you have
given insertion to “A Plan for Writing Blank
Verse in Rhyme:” but as I have seen no reg
ular long poem constructed on its principles.
I suppose the scheme did not take with the
literary world. Under these circumstances, I
feel encouraged to bring forward a novelty of
my own, and I can only regret that such
poets as Chaucer and Cottle, Spenser and Ha
ley, Milton and Pratt, Pope and Pye, Byron
and Batterbee, should have died before it was
invented.
The great difficulty in verse is avowedly
the rhyme. Dean Swift says somewhere in
his letters, “that a rhyme is as hard to find
with him as a guinea,”—and we all know
that guineas are proverbially scarce among
poets. The merest versifier that ever at
tempted a Valentine, must have met with this
Orson, some untameable savage syllable that
refused to chime in with society. For in
stance, what poetical Foxhunter —a contribu
tor to the Sporting Magazine—has not drawii
all the covers of Bernard, Ceynard, Deynard,
Feynard, Geynard, Heynard, Keynard, Ley
nard, Meynard, Neynard, Peynard, Quey
nard, to find a rhyme for Reynard? The
spirit of the times is decidedly against Tithe:
and I know of no tithe more oppressive than
that poetical one, in heroic measure, which
requires that every tenth syllable shall pay a
sound in kind. How often the Poet goes up
a line, only to be stopped at the end by an
impracticable rhyme, like a bull in a blind
alley! I have an ingenious medical friend,
who might have been an eminent poet by this
time, bat the first line he wrote ended in ipe
cacuanha, and with all his physical and men
tal power, he has never yet been able to find
a rhyme for it.
The plan I propose aims to obviate this
hardship. My system is, to take the bull by
the horns; in short, to try at first what words
will chime, before yon go farther and fare
worse. To say nothing of other advantages,
it will at least have one good effect, —and
that is, to correct the erroneous notion of the
would-be-poets and poetesses of the present
day, that the great end of poetry is rhyme.
I beg leave to present a specimen of verse,
which proves quite the reverse, and am, Sir.
Your most ohedient servant,
John Dry’den Grubb.
THE DOUBLE KNOCK.
Rat-tat it went upon the lion’s eliin,
“ That hat, I know it!” cried the joyful girl;
“ Summer's it is, I know him by his knock,
Comers like him are welcome as the day !
Lizzy ! go down and open the street-door,
Busy I am to any one but turn.
Know him jmu must —he has been often here ;
Show him up stairs, and tell him I’m alone!’
Quickly the maid went tripping down the stair;
Thickly the heart of Rose Matilda beat;
“ Sure he has brought me tickets for the play—
Drury—or Covent Garden —darling man !
Kemble will play—or Kean who makes the soul
Tremble ; in Richard or the frenzied Moor —
Barren, the stay and prop of many a farce
Barren beside—or Liston, Laughter’s Child-
Kelly the natural, to witness whom
Jelly is nothing to the public’s jam—
Cooper the sensible —and Walter Knowles
Super, in William Tell—uoyv rightly told.
Better—perchance, from Andrew's, brings a box.
Letter of boxes for the Italian stage —
Brocard! Donzelli! Tuglioni! Paul! _ f
No card —thank heaven—engages me to-night.
Feathers, of course, no turban, and no toque—
Weather’s against it. but I’ll go in curls.
Dearly I dote on white —my satin dress __
Merely one night—it won’t be much the worse
Cupid—the New Ballet 1 long to see —
Stupid ! why don’t she go and ope the door •
Glisten’d her eye as the impatient girl
Listen’d, low bending o’er the topmost stair.
Vainly, alas ! she listens and she bends,
Plainly she hears this question and reply:
“ Axes your pardon, Sir. but what d’ye wan* •
“ Taxes,” says he, “and shall not call again •
Ladies’ Fashions for Ireland. —Two
spinsters, in correspondence with the rebels:
have been committed to Clonmel Gaol, the)
wore percussion caps in their hair —no douD ,
with the spinster purpose, of the more readily
going off!