Newspaper Page Text
JOHN H. SEALS, - Editor and Proprietor.
MRS. MARV E. BRYAlf (*) Associate Editor.
A. L,. HAMILTON, D. D., - Associate Editor
And .Manager of Agencies.
ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY, NOV. 4, 1876.
THE RICHMOND OFFICE
Of The Sunny South is on the corner of Eleventh and
Bank st. K. G. Agee, Agent and Correspondent.
CLUB RATES.
Clubs of four and upward $2.50
each.
A Legend of Ho Springs—A
Strange Story.
We shall begin in onr next issue the publica
tion of a most remarkable story, giving a ro
mantic solution of the
Mysterious Death of De Soto!
It will be a singular mixture of history, geol
ogy and romance.
The National Election.—Before another issue
of this paper, the great battle at the ballot-box
will have been fought and won, and it will
doubtless be remembered during the next cen
tury as the fiercest contest in American politics.
Both the great national parties seem confident
of success, and no prophetic ken is sufficiently
penetrating to foresee the result. The scales
hang more nearly at an equipoise than ever be
fore perhaps, and it is impossible to tell into
which of them the preponderating power shall
fall. The elections so far have only kept the
scales evenly balanced, and served to arouse
both parties to a sense of the fearful magnitude
of the struggle and the uncertainty of the re
sult.
'But let the end be what it may, the country
will breathe more freely, and throughout all its
wide expanse new life will he infused. The ad
ministration will be changed, and any change
from the existing one will be for the better.
We heartily rejoice at the near approach of the
end, and the whole American people, no doubt,
feel the same way. During great political ex
citement, all the material interests of the coun
try are neglected, and it is a cause for congratu
lation when they have ended.
The Lores of Sand and I)e Musset.—So much
has been written concerning the intimacy be
tween the poet Alfred De Musset and the famous
novelist Aurora Dudevant, self-styled “ George
Sand,” that the story can well be said to have a
!‘literature of its own.” “It has been told
three times over; at first hand by Madame
Sand herself in 1 EUe et Lui;’ by M. Paul do
Musset in the answering tale of “ Lui et Elle;’
and by Madame Louise Colet in a third publica
tion called ‘ Lui.’ The two later books are sup
posed to give the poet’s own account of this
fatal love, which is supposed on all sides to have
been his ruin—given in one case to his brother
on his deathbed, and (we are again to under
stand) intrusted to the other writer in the confi
dence of new attachment, which was broken by
his death.”
The story reflects no credit upon either of the
participants, and is a lowering record of sensual
passion, wild orgies, jealousies, quarrels and
make-ups that only serve to show us how much
of the earth earthy can habitate with the genius
we call divine. Yet whatever of the dignity of
real passion and suffering is attached to this
liason is upon the side of the man. To the
woman, in exception to the usual rule of female
attachments, the affair was a mere episode,
from which she gathered golden ore of experi
ence, that her glowing imagination coined into
that wealth of delineation and analysis of pas
sion that makes her novels magnetic. We are
given to understand that she played upon the
sensitive soul of her lover, tortured it, drained
it of its rich aura to enrich her own intellectual
resources; and then when no more was to be
gained, she put him aside as she would a quaffed
goblet, lightly severed the connection of years,
and went on her way without a scar, leaving her
lover a wreck.
Such it appears was the effect of this famous
intimacy, upon the .great novelist, whom Mrs.
Browning apostrophizes as
“ Thou large-brained woman and large-hearted man,
Seif-called George Sand, whose soul amid the lions
Of thy tumultuous senses moans defiance.”
But to the poet—the handsome waltzer, the
golden-haired, gay, graceful, cynical young
Apollo of the Bohemian Olympus—the connec
tion was fatal. The passion so marred by sens
uality and distrust had, strangely enough, been
real, and the desertion was deeply felt. “ Life
was no longer at his feet, a universe of hope
and pleasure as even in his most cynical moods
it had hitherto been. Broken and crushed, he
came back from Italy, where his unkind love
had forsaken him, stung to the heart with a
thousand wounds.”
Yet (so strangely does genius wrest all things
to its use, even when the monument it builds is
the funeral pyre of happiness), this connection
seems to have been productive of intellectual
Defit to the poet no less than to his treacher-
While it paralyzed the creative power
Jd, gloomy imag^^Hjl that had al-
oyss in “ Rolla,”
\ a human pathos
d not before pos-
f the poet, in Black-
th his powers, often,
h, doing his best or
antried strength of
Just conception; but
Us desolation, the poor
Ft sublime means of re-
j lief, and poured out his suffering heart, not in | if offended, there may appear in the popular
miserable display of his circumstances to the column some slyly-worded “ hit ” at themselves,
; world, hut in those profound outbursts of feel- whose sting will make them remember and
ing, which are for mankind, which answer for ! regret their slight of that busy-bee, the reporter,
all sorrows, and speak the infinite disappoint- More contrasts: Yonder come a bevy of coun-
ments, mortifications, pangs of the heart, that try cousins, with the reddest of cheeks and the
i occur in all lives. Here at least he has torever brightest of blue and lilac ribbons, ecstatically
the better of the question. The woman whom enjoying their holiday; for are they not accompa-
he loved held him up to the ridicule of the nied by their beaux, who have just treated them
world, but he, magnanimous, made no reprisals: to the candy and apples they eat with such frank
and the blow, if it broke his heart, made his enjoyment as they walk on, laughing and chat-
fame. The ‘Nuits,’ which are almost his finest ting, unconscious of the supercilious smile that
lyrics, the ‘ Letter to Lamartine,’ almost all his just touches the faintly moustached lip of the
‘ Comedies ’ and ‘ Proverbs ’ came in a rash of fop that passes. A curled darling of fortune,
inspiration after this crisis. While his friends one might suppose from the gloss of his shirt-
chattered over his disasters with sneers and with front and the glitter of his solitaire pin, but it is
sympathy equally hard to bear, the sufferer more than likely that he is in arrears to his wash-
sought for himself that noblest anodyne which erwoman for the polish of the one, and in debt
which lies in work. They say he had recourse to the Dollar Store for the shin9 of the other,
to coarser anodynes as well, poor soul! but at Everything is genuine, you can bet, about the
least he was too noble to return evil for evil. A nex t comer. A solid farmer, one of those pillars
rising flood of power, a more assured knowledge of our State - s prasperi ty, genuine from his suit
of his own strength and exercise of his gift, ; 0 f home-made jeans to the grip of his hearty
mark the period of this bitter disenchantment, j hand> and the plninpne ss of his worn leather
which is a better issue than could have been
hoped from such an episode.”
In her “Elleet Lu Madame Sand has en
tered into a minut d etail of her poet-lover’s
mad jealousies, inconsistencies and caprices,
but De Musset has made no retaliation. His al-
pocket-book, swelled out by the proceeds of that
pile of cotton-bags a little further down the
street, and by the cash returns of bushels of
wheat, corn, apples and potatoes, all grown on
his “ little farm well tilled ” by himself and his
stalwart sons, while his comely wife and daugh-
lusions to the association that blighted his ters keep the tftb , e supplied with such blltt er,
youth are full of a “desolation too noble for tbe creamj eggs and vegetables—such apple pies and
subject.” The most detailed account is con- j deepi golde n-brown custards, as one can find
tained in his “Letterto Lamartine,” from which
we make a brief extract:
" Singer of suffering, how then shall I say,
That of thy glorious sickness. 1 too die;
Clasped in my arms sweet life and hope once lay
A dream, even like thy dream and soon to fly:
How one fair evening when the breeze was halm,
Lulled by beloved voice with heavenly strain,
Like thee. I slumbered in the happy calm,
And felt swift time stop short: and how again,
Tell of another evening, when forsook
And lonely on the earth, devoured like thee
By memories, and the wonder how to brook
Suffering so long ere death should set me free,
I stood amazed at my own misery.
’Tvvas in a winding street, gray and obscnre,
Of that abyss called Paris; to my ear
Came ontcries of that railing crowd, secure
No voice of the unfortunate to hear.
On the dark pavement lanterns of pale light
Threw forth a doubtful day more sad than night.
It wag in spring, the time of Carnival;
A noisy joy rang echoing everywhere;
Masked drunkards, meeting in the gutter, call
An ill word here, a loud-mouthed chorus there.
Sometimes a group, heaped in an open car,
Showed for a moment ’neath the rainy skies,
Then in the town’s mad folly, lost afar
With flare of torch, and shout of impure cries;
In the mean taverns, foul with stains of wine,
Lurked old men, women, children; and the while
Priestesses of the night, through shade and shine,
Inqniet moved about like spectres vile.
Just God, to weep alone "mid such a crowd!
Oh ! my lost love, what have I done to you.
That you could leave me. you so late who vowed
You were my life, and in God’s presence true ?
Oh ! didst thou know, thou cold and cruel heart,
That ’mid the dimness oi that shameful night,
Gazing, as at a star in heaven apart.
I watched outside the glimmer of thy light?
No. no; nottiion. I saw no ghost of thee,
No shadow at the window drawing near
To look, perchance, if the night skies were clear,
Or in that tomb to search some trace of me.”
Every star must lie upon the night, and if the
poet’s life had not been clouded by tbe shadow
of suffering, we should probably never have
had “Eantasio,” with its quaint gleams of wist
ful pathos, and the strange drama of “ On ne
badinepas avec Vamour," with its gay flowery ftnd hats a^.- ^gnt stockings'. How
beginning, gradually unfolding the depths of! ,, , - , . .. _ .
® . , , . „ pretty, how fresh—even in the dusty city—are
passion and despair. i I, , , ,
1 these human blossoms ! with cheeks yet flushed
nowhere but on the plentiful board of a genuine
country home. No wonder onr farmer’s stride
is independent, and he stops to drop a handful
of nickles in the hand of that little beggar-boy
leading his blind father—a generosity at which
the lady iust behind him smiles a little con
temptuously, as she gathers up her kilt-pleated
silk from contact with the beggar’s garments.
“Powerful rich she must be,” thinks our honest
farmer as he notes the costly dress. He does
not guess its history. At what cost of stinted
meals and insufficient underwear and decent
bed-clothes, to say nothing of days and nights
of weary stitching at tailors’ work, taken in se
cretly by an invalid mother and kept carefully
hidden from Mrs. Grundy, before whose eyes
appearances must be kept up, though the wolf
be at the door. He little imagines—onr unso
phisticated farmer—that such a price as this has
been paid for that elegant silk which the young
lady trails in the dust as she walks.
No such weight of selfish vanity and cowardly
sham drags at the pretty brown polonaise of that
stately girl now passing. Her dress is earned
by her own busy hands—hands that pick up
types in our composing office as nimbly as
though the letters were millet-seed and each taper
finger was a rice-bird.
It has grown later—the butterflies of fashion
are all fluttering out, and yonder comes a stream
of babies and trim nurses. Babies in satin-
lined carriages, all bine hoods and embroidered
cloaks; babies toddling beside their bonnes in the
cunningest of braided gabrielles and jackets,
People That Pass.—Our own genus homo is ! by the kisses of their doting mothers. Laces
more interesting to ns as a spectacle or as a an d furs, and soft, bright fabrics, seem native to
study than any other object within the range of ! their delicate-colored, silken-haired prettiness;
nature or art. That stream of humanity flowing j it is every mother’s best delight to dress them
so constantly beneath my window fascinates me ! and put their beauty in the most fitting frame
persistently. Over the broad bridge, on a golden
afternoon such as this, passes within an hour
every variety, it would seem, of human charac
ter. Men, women and children, beggar and
aristocrat, country farmer in free and easy wool
hat, and merchant prince in glossiest stove
pipe, seedy lounger out of work snd hurrying
man of business, whose moments are precious,
fresh-faced country girls anxious about the “set”
of their pin-backs, and city belles sweeping
along in their graceful draperies, that seem as
she can. No wonder, then, that a look of pain
and envy is east upon these dainty darlings by
the poor woman who w r alks wearily past with a
baby wrapped in her faded shawl and another
little one in a patched calico apron, stumping
along at her side.
Well; life, and especially city life, is full of
these sharp contrasts.
Yonder, in the wake of these gay promenaders
in Gainsborough hats, comes the rag-picker,
intent on securing the bits of cotton and paper
much a part of their shapes as the plumes of a i their trains sweep aside. Yonder, are poor, de
tropic bird are a part of himself.
How they hurry by, appear and disappear
like the shadows of a magic lantern—problems
of a moment, of whose character and pursuits
we make brief guesses, founded on the peculi
arity of walk and dress, of gesture and expres
sion. What strong contrasts, too! yonder a
well-fed, broad-clothed gentleman, with the im-
formed creatures, writhing painfully along, al
most crawling on the dust, yet carrying little
bundles of pine kindling or baskets of fruit and
beseeching you to buy.
What troops of sweet-looking school-girls ! all
in coquettish overdresses and striped stockings,
with books under their arms, apples in their
hands, and alas ! chewing-gum in their mouths.
Blessed be not the Yankee that first invented
posing carriage of one who has money in his
pockets and friends par consequence; and behind ! chewing-gum! *
him, a meager, out-at-elbows, sharp-visaged in- j
dividual, stopping to lounge on the bridge- Dull Mithiii, Bright Without.—We catch
railing, and looking, with anxious eyes, for i ourselves yawning over a pile of half-read ex
something to “turn up.” Now, a barefoot news- J changes. Dull they seem—“stale, flat and un
boy, with a rimless hat on his head, a bundle of ; profitable’’—though it may be the dullness lies
papers under his arm and a cheery, chirping ! within ourselves, for who can feel enthused over
cry on his lips; behind him, a little gentleman printer’s ink on a day full of such out-door
in kid gloves and shiny boots; and jostling him j suggestions of Indian summer sweetness? And
a burly, red-faced son of Erin, who glances j besides, this laboring of the political mountain
with momentary compassion at the pale young ! does b ‘gin to grow monotonous, and we long for
cripple being trundled in her invalid’s chair to | the ides of November that it may bring forth the
the Surgical Institute for her hour of “treat
ment.” Yonder goes a personage at whose voca
tion we can make a ready guess. Full-bearded,
elect mouse and end the quaternnial turmoil.
The same old programme of abuse and vilifi
cation, the same raking among the ashes of the
eusy-coated, independent of carriage, looking ! candidates’ past lives for some smutty fault that
about him with a kindly yet critical survey, we | shall score a black mark on his record. Is
recognize that half philosopher, half bohemian, nothing new possible to the American election-
the editor of a daily paper, whose somewhat rol- ! eering e ampaign ?
licking tastes are held in check, and his private And the literary periodicals ! Really they are
contempt for many of the humbugs he profes- : hardly more refreshing. There are few elec-
sionally advocates is restrained by his some- trical scintillations, or else our brain is poorly
what exaggerated sense of his own importance charged. Paucity of imagination marks the
as the head-centre of one of those “lights of poems; sprightly society talk, commonplace sit-
the world a printing press. | uations, graceful mediocrity characterize the
Just behind him trips one of his satellites— stories and are hardly sufficient to keep one’s
the ubiquitous reporter and purveyor of news, eyes from straying to that strip of tender blue
without whose infusement of local sparkle the ! sky—that feathery cloud—like the stray wing of
daily sheet, in spite of the heavy political strength an angel that shows above the rows of brick
of his chief, would be as champagne without the walls. I know in what glory of blue and scarlet
bead. Note-book and pencil in side pocket, and gold, in what brooding purply mist and
hair unkempt, sharp, restless eyes on the look- caw of crows and whir of partridge wings and
out for an item, but not too intent upon busi- ! music of bird and brook, the Autumn holds her
ness not to beam with pleasure as that trio of j levee away out among the hills,
beauties nod to him in passing—nod most; That glimpse of hazy blue sky suggests it all.
graciously, too, for it is well to keep on his right j
side; there is no telling how soon he may be j ... , , ,
. ’ , . , t • .1. • . Notwithstanding the increase of Sunday-schools
called upon to expansively Jenkinize their wed- : tbe R ev yj r Spurgeon, of London, is afraid “there
ding receptions, or chronicle some “society ; jg a plentiful lack of good, old-fashioned study of
movement ” of theirs among the local items; or, j the Bible.”
Dull Farmers.—A pleasant writer gives us the
following picture of the mental barrenness of
certain New England farmers. Is the type he
describes altogether unknown upon our side of
“Mason and Dixon’s” line? We have among
us intelligent, wide-awake farmers, who keep
pace with the world’s progress and cultivate
their minds and hearts as well as their acres.
But there is another class who drop behind and
grow vacuous through a neglect of the social
affections, and a proper interest in what is going
on in the great world outside their fences. They
set their faces against the “nonsense,” which
they style everything not connected with work
or saving—against all beautiful ameliorating in-
, fluences, such as the introduction into their
homes of books, of modern life, pictures, mus-
j ical or social recreations, and even against that
; best and cheapest of mind brighteners—the fam
ily newspaper.
Here is what our author says about the “West
Pekin ” farmer:
“Great men have come from the rural stock
of our nation before now; and perhaps the
people of West Pekin have earned the right to
lie fallow; but whether this is so or not, it is
certain that they often evince an aptness to open
the mouth and stand agape at unusual encoun
ters, which one cannot well dissociate from
ideas of a complete mental repose.
“ If they have no thoughts, they have not the
irrelevance and superfluity of words; they are
a signally silent race. I have seen two of them,
old neighbors, meet after an absence, and when
they had hornily rattled their callous palms to
gether, stand staring at each other, their dry,
serrated lips falling apart, their jaws mutely
working np and down, their pale-blue eyes va
cantly winking, and their weather-beaten faces
as wholly discharged of expression as the gable
ends of two barns confronting each other from
opposite sides of the road; no figure can portray
the grotesqueness of their persons, with their
feet thrust into their heavy boots, and their
clothes—originally misshapen in a slop-shop
after some by-gone fashion, and now curiously
warped, outgrown, outworn—climbing up their
legs and mounting upon their stooping shoul
ders.”
More gracious and encouraging is the sketch
the same anthor gives ns of the wives and daugh
ters of these New England farmers; and here too
we may mark a similar difference in the male
and female members of many of our Southern
country homes. The latter are unusually more
bright, more alive and interested, more fertile
in resources and suggestions than the male
members of the household, though their sur
roundings are the same.
“Onr Anglo-Saxon stock in many country
neighborhoods of New England seems weather,
beaten in mind as in face; and this may account
for the greater quick-wittedness of the. women,
whose in-door life is more protected from the
inclemency of onr skies. It is certain that they
are far readier than the men, more intelligent,
gracious and graceful, and with their able conni
vance the farmer stays the adversity creeping
upon his class,if he does not retrieve its old pros
perity. In the winter his daughters teach
school, and in the summer they help their mo
ther through her enterprise of taking boarders.
The farm feeds them all, but from the women’s
labor comes thrice the ready money that the land
ever yields, and it is they who keep alive the
sense of all higher and finer things, Heaven
knows with what heroic patience and devoted
endeavor. The house shines, through them,
with fresh paper and paint (year by year they
add to those comforts and meek aspirations
towards luxury which the summer guest accepts
so lightly when he comes, smiling askance at
the parlor organ in the corner, and the black-
walnut-framed chromo-lithographs on the walls. ”
j The Society is out of debt and has a surplus of
cash on hand, and is better able than ever to
1 give a grand exhibition next year.
We have had nothing from the Newnan Fair,
j The Washington County, Ga. and Richmond, Ya.
Fairs take place this week.
EDITORIAL MENTION.
Oue able Health Editor, Dr. J. Steinback Wil
son, has just returned from New York and the
Centennial, vastly refreshed and with a budget
of new ideas on the Turkish Bath, and for his
already popular department in this paper. We
welcome him hack.
We are pleased to know that the beautiful
“Centennial Poem” of ourpnpnlar and talented
minister the Rev. J. H. Martin, of the First
Presbyterian Church, has attracted much atten
tion among cultivated people. We give here a
letter he received sometime since from the Uni
versity of Virginia:
Libeaby University of Ya., Sept. 5th, ’76.
Rev. Joseph W. Martin—Deab Sib: I have
the honor to acknowledge the receipt of “The
Declaration of Independence, A Centennial
Poem,” and have been instructed by the Faculty
of this Institution to tender yon their sincere
thanks for the same.
Most respectfully, your ob’t servant,
Wm. Wertenbebkeb, Librarian.
Local Fairs in the South.—The Greenesboro
Georgia Fair passed off successfully and pleas
antly last week in the good old town of Greenes
boro, and we hope it will prove largely benefi
cial to the Agricultural and home interests of
that splendid county. Among the notable
events of the week was a delightful Musical en
tertainment at the hospitable residence of Dr.
Wm. Morgan. He is an enthusiastic genius, a
passionate lover of music and a most hospita
ble and public spirited citizen. Misses Leila
Davis and Lula Allen, two of the sweetest little
girls (little when we knew them) in Georgia,
won the palms for proficiency on the piano.
Master Boswell, of Penfield, 12 years of age
took the prize for declamation. Miss Gussie
King, of Athens, was declared by a formal vote
to be the prettiest and most accomplised young
lady at the Fair. The Hotels were all crowded
to overflowing. Judge Dougherty, Col. Wm.
T. Doster, Col. W. G. Johnston and Mrs. Jeff
Mapp, all keep good houses.
The Rome Geobgia Fate is pronounced by
correspondents to have been decidedly credita
ble, The portraits of McDonald, Dr. Dagg and
Rev. Dr. Hillyer, in the Art Gallery were gen
erally admired for the exquisite skill displayed
by the fair Artist, Miss Kate Hillyer, of Rome.
The Griffin Georgia Fate passed off success
fully week before last. We have had no par
ticulars.
The Eighth Annual Exhibition of the Lynch
burg, Ya., Agricultural and Mechanical Society
ended on the 28th, and the Daily News of that
city says the friends of the Society have cause to
congratulate themselves on the beautiful weather
which contributed to the enjoyment of the oc
casion. The exhibition was a grand success.
Prof. B. Mallon, the very efficient and popu
lar Superintendent of the Public Schools of the
city has this to say of them in his third annual
report :
“The schools have passed through the first
five years of their existence without suspension
or serious interruption of any sort, and it is not
too much to say that they have firmly established
themselves in the affections of the people of our
city. It is true that from the beginning there
were those who opposed the movement; some
because it was a change, others because they
could not think the schools, would be good
enough for their children. Others still, who,
having no children to be educated, were un
willing that their property, although enhanced
in value by the existence of the schools, should
contribute to the support of such schools. But
the experiment of public education of the chil
dren of the entire community has been made,
and has proved successful, as it always will with
a fair trial. The schools have given instruction
to about six thousand children since their estab
lishment, more than twice the number, it is safe
to say, that would have received instruction
without the existence of the public schools. The
children of all classes of our citizens, rich and
poor, have had free admission to these schools,
with equal privileges. The schools have been
steadily improving in the character of their
management and discipline, the equality of in
struction, and the general results attained. This
progress is chiefly due to the fact that in the
public schools the teachers have a common in
terest. They are constantly preparing their
work with regard to both their methods and re-
suls, and are learning from one another—the
younger and less experienced from the wiser,
and all are imbued with a spirit of progress and
a professional zeal and pride not likely to he
found in isolated work.
Parents in general have given a cordial sup
port to teachers, and have required their chil
dren to conform to the rules of the school. The
children themselves are attached to the schools,
giving steady attendance, and exhibiting an in
terest in their work, and affection for their
teachers. The pleasant relations existing be
tween the scholars and teachers in most of the
schools is a noticeable characteristic, and has
been frequently and favorably commented upon
by intelligent visitors from abroad.
We are pleased to note the existence of sev
eral musical clubs in this city, and it is grat
ifying to know that all of them possess much
fine musical talent. The “Rossini” and “Bee
thoven ” are the leading clubs, and we believe
there is a commendable rivalry between them.
Among the members of the “Beethoven” we
find the following array of brilliant amateurs,
many of whom have made considerable reputa
tion in the world of song. Mrs. L. H. Clark,
Mrs. P. H. Snook, Mrs. Ed. Werner, Mrs. Gads
den King, Mrs. Moore, Mrs. Robert Farrar,
Misses Emily Harper, Lula McClendon, Wurm
and Moore. And among the male members we
find Professor Wurm, Messrs. Ed. Werner, Gus
Haines, Percy Stevens, W. H. Parkins, W. D.
Luckie, Alex. King and Mr. Bellingrath. Pro
fessor Shultze, of the Savannah Musical Con-
servatary, is the Director. It has a large hall
and a thousand dollar piano. The “Rossini”
club, we learn, has the “ Bohemian Girl” in re
hearsal for public rendition at an early day.
Success to all our amateur musicians !
CREAM OF THE NEWS
CONDENSED INTO A NUTSHELL.
One of the largest droves of cat tle ever seen in
any place was driven from Texas a few weeks ago
from Captain King s ranche, Nueces county, to
Kansas. The herd numbered 30,000 horned cat
tle, and was attended by seven hundred drivers.
On the 8th inst. Prof. Starkes’ Female Acade
my, at Paris, Texas, was entirely destroyed by fire,
with all its contents. The young lady boarders
lost their wardrobes, and two new pianos were
consumed.
The heirs of William Penn now receive from the
British Government, and are to receive “forever,”
§20,000 a year, in compensation for their pro
prietary rights in Pennsylvania.
The Secretary of the Treasury has been notified
of the shipment of three-quarters of a million dol
lars of gold by Rothschild, direct to the United
States Treasury, in payment for four and a half
per cent, bonds.
The five largest nations, according to population,
are in the order named, China, Great Britain, Rus
sia, Germany, United States, Brazil; according to
standing armies, Russia, Germany, France Aus
tria, Great Britain.
The German Parliament opened at Berlin, Oct.
30., with a speech from the throne. The relations
existing between Germany and all foreign govern
ments are represented as satisfactory. The Em
peror desires to maintain friendly relations with
all the powers on the subject of the Turkish diffi
culties. The Emperor says the German govern
ment will only attempt mediation if the peace of
Europe is threatened. Whatever may arise trom
the present eastern complication, Germany will not
shed her blood except in the event of her interests
and honor becoming imperiled.
The Centennial Bourses interpiet the speech of
Emperor William on the opening ofi the German
Parliament as unfavorable.
M. DuSoumard has replied to the inquiry of the
French government, touching the authenticity of
the official letter alleged to have been written by
him against the Centennial Exhibition. He de
clares the letter a fabrication.
TheN. Y. Tribune says it is settled that there will
be three tickets in the field this year for county
and city offices. The Republicans have refused all
coalition with Mr. Green and his independents.
Mr. Jno. A. Dix will be the Republican nominee
for Mayor.
Lightning, at Searton, HI., Oct. 30, struck Con-
ded’s warehouse. Loss about S60.000; fully in
sured.
Artists in France—The State an Alma Mateb.
—It is easy for a man to rise in France. The
paths of ambition and honorable distinction are
open to the humblest artisan. If a working-man
have artistic or musical tastes he can cultivate
them to their full at the expense of the State, and
in the working-classes, as they now exist, there
are innnmerable musical and artistic proficients,
who have educated themselves, by means of the
help and encouragement of public institutions, to
a higher level than that of the mere mechanic. In
music especially the workmen of France are ad
vanced. If you pass a work-shop in the streets you
hear the full voices of the cheery, happy-natured
workmen combine in a glee or a round; and as I
write I can hear the strong notes of a house-painter
opposite, who is executing some of the most diffi
cult airs in “LeNozze di Figaro” of Mozart.
“If we were obliged to pay to enter life,” says
the younger Dumas, “how many would demand
the return of our money on departing ?’ ’ Aye, eye,
Master Dumas, life’s “all a fleeting show, for
man’s illusion given.”