The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, November 04, 1876, Image 5

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[For The Sunny South.] SALLIE LOU, OF ATLANTA. BT GEORGE HJI.LYEB. I know a winsome fairy a double summer old With eyes of violet beauty and hair of shadowed gold; The look of wistful tenderness about her coral month And the softness of her eyes betray a daughter of the South. Love is the keynote of her life. She nothing knows of fear For the mother-eyes that watch her well are ever kind and clear. And she finds a welcome resting-place—a fond and fa vorite nest Within her father’s manly arms, her head against his breast. A charm peculiar folds her round, a holy, tender grace. For .he seemed sent by heaven to fill a sadly vacant piace; And when her mother clasps her close she thinks of the sweet bud That Sleeps where western waters roll sea ward their mighty flood. I have many lovely little friends whose names I need not tell— My wreath of unblown lily-budB—I love them passing well But none there are moro sweet and fair than gentla Sallie Lou, The little maid with silken locks and wistful eyes of blue. [For The Sunny South.] Cosmopolitan Stories; X — OB,— UNDER SIX FLAGS. BY O. A. E. THIRD EVE.YIJVG Continued. When Karl had finished his short story, Jona than observed rather indignantly: “If there is anything in the world I thor oughly abominate, it is those inveterate wine- bibbers whose only aim in life appears to be to turn themselves into casks, and who glory in the performance. No great man yet ever was a wine-bibber, and our world would have been a much better world than it is, if wine never had existed. I wonder who discovered it?’’ “What do you think of Jonathan’s views con cerning these matters, Karl ?” asked the Russian. “ Well, I’ll tell you what I think,” answered the German, after a somewhat protracted si lence, during which he emptied another glass of Rhine wine and filled another pipe. “I think that wine is the king of all liquors, and I’ll try to enlighten my friend Jonathan a little on this subject. You want to know who it was that first pressed the grape. The opin ions are divided upon that subject. Athenseus says that Orestes—not the one who was Pylades’ friend and Hermiones’ lover, but he who was the son of Deucalion—rnled over Italy after the flood, and planted the first vine at the foot of iEtna. Ovid and Virgil mention that Bacchus himself, with the thyrsus in his hand, was the first who gathered grapes on the charming hills of India. According to others, Osiris is said to have picked the first grapes in Egypt. There are others again who ascribe the discovery of wine to an old Spanish king by the name of Gereon. The Christians and the Jews, relying on the authority of the Bible, accord this honor to Noah. But it is a matter of indifference who first discovered the grape; let us be grateful for this most magnificent of kind Nature’s gifts. The Scythian philosopher, Anacliarsis, said that the vine is a divine plant, which bears three grapes - one produced joy and buoyancy, the second dullness, and the third loathing. The divine Plato even, who now and then was a little touched when among his friends, bows before the ne, and writes: ‘Wine, enjoyed in mod eration, is a medicine that makes the old young, the sick healthy, and the poor rich.' Athenmus compares wine with the mandrake, which rocks all mental and bodily sufferings to sleep, and is like a celestial dew, that refreshes the fading flower. Leno called wine the terrestial Lethe from which we poor mortals drink forgetfulness of all our sorrows. “And if you are not satisfied with the opin ions of Anacharsis, Athenams, Plato and Leno, I refer you to Syrach, who says: ‘ Wine rejoic- eth the heart of man.’ Jonathan remarked that no great man was ever a wine-bibber. I, on the contrary, am bold enough to make the assertion that great men generally are great drinkers; and I invite any of you who does not believe it to accompany me on a short tour through the world’s history. “ At the head of all historical drunkards W6 have Alexander the Great. He used to drink so much wine that, according to Athenmus, he often slept two days and two nights in succes sion. The son of Philip of Macedon, the disci ple of Aristotle and the friend of Hephasstion, once arranged a drinking bout in order to ascer tain who of the boon companions could stand the most. The great Alexander offered three prices: one talent of silver for the first victor, thirty min® for the second, and ten min® for the third. The famons philosopher, Promachus, won the first prize. Alexander died on the sec ond of April 334, B. C., in consequence of a drunken fit. The Persian king Darius the First, the richest prince of his times, and whose civil list amount ed to 575,000 talents, the same Darius who once gave an entertainment to fifteen thousand per sons at a cost of a sum that, reduced to our currency, would amount to about 500,000 Prus sian dollars; that Darius, who died 485 B. C., in his war with Greece, had an inscription put on his tomb stoDe setting forth that he had been one of the greatest drunkards of his century. Mttliridates, king of Pontus—who spoke twenty-two languages and had such a good me mory that he, like Scipio Africanus, Julius C®- sar and Emperor Hadrian, recollected the name of every soldier in his army—followed Alexan der’s example, brought about a competition in the act of drinking, fixed a high prize for the victor, and was not a little proud when he him self turned out to be victorious. He had enough sense left however, not to keep the prize but gave it to the gladiator Calanodrys, who 4 was the next best champion. Alcibiades, the friend of Socrates and the pet of Pericles and the Graces, had also a little nightcap now and then, according to Pliny’s statement. Dionysius, the tyrant of Syracuse, a master toper, who, as Aristotle tells us, once sat ninety days and ninety nights in a drinking party, offered a crown to any one who could drink a gallon of wine in one draught. Xenocrates, the philosopher, won that prize. Among the Romans, the Emperor Tiberius Nero distinguished himself, the same who, on account of his skill in drinking, received the by name of Biberius Mero. After him Lucius Piso deserves to be men tioned, who could drink two days and two nights without being intoxicated. Marcus Aurelius was also a powerful drinker, and Cicero charges him with having drunk so much at the wedding of Hippias that he had a violent headache the following morning. The same Marcus Aurelius wrote later an apology by which to justify and find an excuse for his errors, openly confessing that he had committed them when under influence of liquor. Cicero himself is said to have druuk six mea sures on the same occasion, and the poet Ermi- nius could not, as Horace tells us, write verses unless he was drunk. Even Cato, the wise, is reproached by Julius Ca-sar, in his two books Anti-Catones, for having frolicked to his heart’s content through whole nights until the dawn of day. Horace sings in his twenty-first ode of the second book: “ Narratur et prisci Catonis Saspe mero caluisse vlrtus.” Among the Germans we know the poet Caba- nus Hesse, who drank half a cask of Danzig beer for a wager. And we must not omit mentioning the consort of Charles VI. Wolfgang Menzel relates in his “History of the Germans,” that the Empress one evening drank six gallons of Hungarian wine, used five casks of ordinary Austrian wine for bathing, and two firkins be sides in which to moiater bread for her parrots. The French are more moderate than any other nation, and therefore I can cite no case of whole sale drinking among them. Yet I must mention Catherine Bonsergeant, a Parisian shoemaker's wife, who, according to the statement of Anthus, ; drank from twenty-five to thirty gallons of water I daily, and only tasted wine one single time in her whole life—which made her faint, f English history has only one prominent drinker, King Antebnntus, who entered eterni- | ty dead-drunk. The Hungarian annals mention King Bela II, and the Turkish Amurath IV, whose only point I of similarity with Alexander of Macedon was I that he died when intoxicated. Achmed II was ardently devoted to the grape- vine, and called it the tree of life. In the Bohemian annals we do not find more l than one distinguished drinker, the son of j Charles IV, Wenzel, whom the Bohemians never called by any other name than “King Drnnk- ! ard. Venal historians, who always are anxious ! to embellish and find excuses for the vices of | kings, say that it was in a state of intoxication i that this Wenzel had a cook impaled and roasted | by a slow fire, because he had suffered a capon i to get burnt. It is likewise said that he, when [ in the same condition, had the Bishop of Prague, | Johann Nepomuk, thrown into the Moldau, be- ! cause he would not betray the queen’s confes- | sion, and that he caused his first wife, Johanna, : the daughter of Albrecht of Bavaria, to be torn | to pieces by the dogs. It was the same Wenzel | who, when he was informed that the Electors had declared him unworthy to occupy the Imp erial throne of Germany, wrote to Bohemian ! cities that he did not want any other evidence of their fidelity than a few casks of their best wine. In old times the Germans were considered great tipplers, and that they already observed it at an early period is apparent from the fact that Charlemagne, in the year 802, found himself obliged to issue a severe edict against drunken ness, in which it was decreed that drunkards were not qualified to give evidence. At the diet in Worms 1521, Emperor Charles V promulgated a still stronger interdict against intoxication, “which degrades man into an an imal,” as it reads. At the same time the Prince-Bishop of Bam berg’s Landsteward, Baron Johann von Schwar- zenberg, wrote a thundering treatise against ine briation. But these laws and moral lectures seem to have had very little effect, as a Hohen- lohean bill of feoffment of the year 1582 required eve -y feudatory to empty a large goblet which held half a gallon in one draught, in order to prove himself a German nobleman of the gen uine stamp. The last Count von Gorz often awakened his young sons in the middle of the night and com pelled them to drink with him; if they expressed a desire rather to sleep he exclaimed with iron ical dissatisfaction: “Alas, these are not my children.” It is not surprising then that Henry IV never would marry a German princess, fearing “d’a- voir toujours un pot deviu aupres de soi.” When the last margrave of Anspach had an audience of Pope Clemens XIV, in the year 1776, the latter asked: “ Do they drink as hard in Germany yet, as they used to do formerly?” Whereupon the Margrave answered: “No, Your Holiness, only at the ecclesiastical courts.” The Germans are in a great measure indebted to to their reversed monastic ecclesiastics for their name of drinkers. Justice, however, prompts us to admit, that not only the German monks, but monks of all nations, have been great tipplers. These worthy servants of the Lord appeal to the authority of one of their venerable fathers of the church, the holy Angustinus who once confessed before his God : “ Crapula non- numguam surrepit servo tuo,” adding: “ Spirilus non potest habiiare in sicco." The monks, who are not even willing to ab stain from wine during Lent, and who would rather fast a fortnight than do without wine one hour, have made this rule: “ Humidsom non rumpit jejunium, and a Jesuit has demonstrated with great sagacity that intoxication is not intox- icotion, if you can recollect next morning that you were not exactly right the preceding even ing. The French monks elevated the holy Mar tin us to the patron saint of the drinkers, and hence se martiner means to get drunk, and mal de Martin sickness caused by intoxication. The Knight Templars who, besides many other pee- adilloes, were charged with drunkenness, said of an individual who had drank too much: “Bibit papatiler;" but when Clemens V. and Clemens IV. abolished the order in the year 1811,, the Roman prelates took their revenge, and translated “to get drunk” with “bibere templariter. ” Yincentius Obsopaus, a German poet whose real name was Koch, wrote a poem called “ Vic toria Bacchi, seu de arte Bibendi." In that poem he says: “ O monaclii, vestri stomachi sunt amphora Bacchi! Vos estis, Deus est testis, turpissima pestis.” I shall not adduce more than one single proof to show that this man was not very far from the truth: When the Empress Maria Theresa had made Count Ludwig Bathyanyi palatin of Hun gary in the year 1751, he presented to the Hi bernian monastery in Prague a cask of Hunga rian wine, which the renowned Fathers, with the prior at their head, drank outside the city gates, in order to save the heavy impost duty on it. The followers of the musical art have been looked upon as the greatest drinkers next after the monks. A proverb which, like most of J them, must have some foundation in experience, says: “ Cantores amant hermores.” Without the least intention to place Mozart among drinkers, I must state that he had a little brick in his hat when he composed the magnificent champagne song in Don Giovani. Philosophers and moralists have also had a taste for wine, which Aristophanes so poetically calls the milk of Venus. The famous philoso pher, Bernhard Basedow, was many a time found drunk in the gutter, dressed in his professor’s garb, when he was teacher of moral philosophy at the University of Sorae. In order to inflict punishment on himself, he was in the habit, after such occurrences, of appearing at his next lecture in his soiled clothes, thereby warning his audience against the consequences of excess in drinking. This reminds me of a parable in Talmud : Satan, who helped Noah to plant the first vine, inoculated it with the blood of a lamb, a lion and a swine; and when Noah asked him the rea son why he did it, he answered: “One goblet will make you cheerful and gentle as a lamb, two will make you feel strong and courageous as a lion, but if you drink three or four you will roll in the mud like swine. It has been said that “vinosus” is the same as “vino sus, (a swine through wine.) A sharp metaphysician once drew this conclu sion: “ Good wine produces good blood, good blood gives a healthy mind, a healthy mind leads te good actions, good actions bring us to heaven —ergo, good wine brings us to heaven.” Karl, having become somewhat dry by this long lecture, refreshed himself with another glass of wine at its conclusion. “ Auf!” exclaimed Francois, “that was power ful ! and in genuine German style, too. A long, steady, exhaustive research, winding up with a scrap of metaphysics.” “ If ever a professional chair should be estab lished for the history of wine and its votaries, I think that few would stand a chance of obtain ing it, if you were one of the applicants,” re marked the Russian, “I never listened to a more thorough exposition at so short a notice.” “ Well,” said the Swede, “if your story was short your lectures made up for it, and upon the whole I think you have acquitted yourself re markably well. What do you think of Karl’s refutation of your remarks, Jonathan?” “I hold the same views as before,” answered the American, “but I’ll take good care not to get into an argumentation with Karl again. By heavens! he would walk over me like an ele phant with his mass of facts.” And what are we to do now for our third story ?” asked the Frenchman. “During Karl’s long disquisition,” answered John, “I have been asking myself that very question, at the same time trying to find some thing to tell you. I happened to recall to my memory a smuggling story just now, and unless some one of you has anything better to offer, I will relate it, rather than to have recourse to an other voting, although I am sorry to say that it is short and possesses very little interest.” “ Let us have it, by all means, John,” said Francois. “I don’t believe you will have many competitors this evening.” John began: IX. ABOUT LACE. The passage from Calais to Dover across the English channel is, as is well known, very short, and made daily .by numerous steamers. One day a lady of respectable appearance was sitting alone on a bench on deck of one of the steamers that came from the French side, sunk in deep meditations. A comfortable-looking middle-aged gentleman had for some time re garded her with fixed attention from the oppo site side of the boat. He now rose, crossed the deck and sat down close by her. After a short silence, he turned round and said to her gently: “Madame, you seem troubled about some thing. Will you permit me to ask if I can be of any service to you ?” The lady looked at him somewhat surprised and answered coldly: “Sir, I have not the pleasure of your aeqaint- ance, and I cannot imagine ” “ Please excuse me, madam, and do not be in dignant at my presumption in addressing you. I am an old traveler, well versed in the ways of the world, and I have observed that if you suf fer anger or indignation to influence your ac tions, you are almost sure to do something that you will repent, sooner or later. ” “ I am very much obliged for the interest you take in me,” the lady answered, ironically. “ It only seems to me somewhat uncalled for on this occasion. ” “My dear madam, I am not so sure of that, taking into consideration that there is a gentle man over yonder whose attention you also seem to have attracted, and he is a custom-house officer.” The lady gave a start, and exclaimed unea sily: “ What do yon mean, sir ?” “ Simply this,” rejoined the gentleman plac idly; “ that there is sticking out from beneath your dress a beautiful piece of genuine Brus sel’s lace, and that, having noticed the uneasy expression of your face a few minutes ago, I ob served you closely, to try if I could discover the cause of your anxiety, when my eye fell upon that piece of lace, which gave me a clue to the whole affair. Now, that officer yonder has probably made the same observation with regard to your countenance I did, but I do not think he has seen the lace as yet." The lady turned pale, looked imploringly at her interlocutor, seized his hand with a convul sive grasp, and exclaimed beneath her breath: “For Heaven’s sake, do not betray me, now that you have discovered that I am smuggling !” “Of course not,” he answered in his cool manner. “If that had been my intention, do you think I would have taken the trouble to come here and warn you first? Now, reach out your foot gently whilst talking to me, drag that unfortunate piece of lace within the folds of your dress, and all will be well, I hope. And I trust that you see by this time, madam, that you have no just cause to be indignant at rhy taking the liberty of addressing you, although a stran ger.” The lady looked at him gratefully, and they continued their journey chatting pleasantly to gether until they landed at Dover. When they had arrived there, the custom house officers, as usual, boarded the boat to search the baggage of the passengers. As soon as they were aboard, the placid gentleman step ped forward and said: “Gentlemen, I am a British subject, and my name is Thompson. I have accidentally discov ered that there is a lady on this steamer who is trying to smuggle into England some Brussel’s lace, a quantity of which she carries wound around her body, and I have, as a good subject, deemed it my duty to inform you of the fact. The lady in question is sitting there, and I sup pose you now know your duty.” The officers thanked him; the lady got fiery red and deathly pale by turns, and Mr. Thomp son made a grave bow to all present, and walked ashore leisurely. The lady was searched, and her lace confisca ted. After the unsuccessful termination of her speculation, she took rooms at one of the Dover hotels, her heart swelling with nearly ungovern able rage against all sedate gentlemen. Shortly after the lady had taken up her abode at the Dover hotel, a card was presented to her with the name of Thompson on it. Being now angry with the world in general, she sent the servant down, requesting him to say that she knew no such gentleman. But Mr. Thompson was not to be dismissed thus. He again sent up his card with a note, stating that he wished to see the lady on very important business. She walked down in the parlor and again faced^ her placid new acquaintance. “You wretch !” she commenced, but was im mediately interrupted by her visitor. “ Madam, the last time I had the pleasure of meeting with you, I think we agreed that indig nation, if suffered to ” “I will have nothing to do with you or your theories. What do you want ?” “I want you,” the gentleman continued, coolly, “in the first place to be as calm as you possibly can, and in the second, to be kind enough to tell me what losses you have sus tained by our late unpleasant transaction.” “What is that to you ? You have ” “My dearest madam, do me the favor to name the amount of your losses.” “Well, they are”—and here the lady men tioned a considerable sum. Mr. Thompson upon hearing the amount stated, quietly drew from his pocket a pocket book well filled with the notes of the bank of England, and said, in his usual unostentatious way: “Would you allow me to recompense you, so far as I can, for the trouble I have caused you, by paying you double the amount you could have hoped to realize by your smuggling of lace, supposing the affair had ended as smoothly as you expected ?" The lady stood for awhile as if petrified. Fi nally she asked, bewildered: “ What is the meaning of all this, sir? First, i you kindly put me on my guard against the | | custom house officers, then you denounce me in the most cruel manner, and now you come here offering to pay more than I ever could have hoped to realize had I been successful! For God’s sake, tell me what is it?” “Nothing more simple, my dear madam,” the gentleman replied, with his accustomed placid ity. “You see, I have my pockets full of dia monds of an immense value, which I tried to smuggle in, and by calling off the attention of the officers from me to you, I got those precious stones ashore in safety, and they are housed now, I can tell you, where no officer will find them in a hurry. And with many thanks for the good service you have rendered me, I hope you will not hesitate in adopting my theory about indig nation, as the suppression of that emotion cer tainly has served us both a good turn on the present occasion. ” “ Well, we managed to get through our even ing after all,” remarked Francois. “Yes, and pretty well, too,” said John, “ thanks to Karl’s impromptu discourse. The stories were rather short and meager, though. But at our next sitting I hope we shall make up for it, as we then shall expect a 'first-class im portation of the wares we deal in from Sweden, Russia and France." [For The Sunny South.] Woman’s Tongue—The Secret of Her Chat. BY B. M. O. The gifts of God are not accidents, but be stowed in the right place, and upon proper sub jects. It has often been a subject of comment and reflection, why it was that woman could, with suci natural ease, out talk a man. Many have been the theories as to her peculiar gift; some asserting that her tongue was more flexi ble, others that she had a double tongue, and others, again, that her emotional nature was such that she felt twice as deeply and thought twice as quick; while some cynical creatures in pants attribute her love for talk to admiration or vanity. Such is not the case. Woman’s ability to talk and to talk muchly, is a pure gift of her Creator; and as a clincher to the asser tion, the following truthful story of the gift we relate: When Adam was created, his Creator took es pecial pains to instruct him relative to himself and the creation he saw around him. He was well educated in natural history, and enjoyed the free menagerie he saw around and about. He was no doubt equally instructed in the flora that met his eye, the apple tree not excepted. After the creation of Eve, Adam interested himself and instructed her by imparting his knowledge to his fair bride. In time, however, as his labor was light, and he had plenty of time on hand, he told all he knew. Conversation ran low, ideas came slowly, and chit-chat was want ing. In fact, our honored first parents had nothing to say. What could they talk about ? They could not talk of property, for the whole world was theirs, without a disputing claim. They could not talk of children, for Cain and Abel had not put in an appearance. They could not talk of governments, for they were the undisputed rulers of the world. They could not talk slander, for they had no neigh bors, nor had the devil got them, as yet, in the famous apple scrape. They could not talk of the fashions, for mother Eve was not aware of her natural beauty then unadorned. They could not talk of love or courtship, for old father Adam had a wife made to his hand. As soon as he saw mother Eve, he said, “I take her.” They could not talk of sickness, death and funerals, for happily they were strangers to such ideas just then. Talk was low, and the solitude of'silence was growing oppressive, when behold ! Rapheal was seen descending from the bright abodes above, bearing on each arm six baskets. Alighting just in front of the pair, he said: “ I bring to you a pleasant gift from the Great Creator to the children of earth; it will ever be to you and yours a source of pleasure, when well used.” Eve, with her curiosity all excited, opened the baskets, and found them filled with efiit- chat. “Oh! how pleasant the gift,” said Eve. “I thank my Creator for them, and thank His blessed messenger for bringing them.” Adam looked in, but feeling he did not stand in need of such small talk, said: “I don’t want anything in the baskets; you may have them all, Eve.” “But you must take some of the baskets,” said Eve, “ for how could we talk together with out you had some of them?” “ Well,” answered Adam, “three is as many as I want; you can have the other nine,” whereupon mother Eve’s tongue, and those of her daugh ters down to the present day, have never wanted for chit-chat. It may be set down as one of the fixed laws of our nature, that when a man can be found who can out talk a woman, he has not only inherited his mother’s nine baskets of talk, but his father’s three thrown in. Such is truth and tradition. [For The Sunny South.) Thoughts on Lore. This truth came borne with bier and pall, I felt it when I sorrowed most, ’Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved to all. —Alfred Tennyson. Death is the great treasure house of love. —Bulwer. Nothing can sweeten felicity itself but love. —Jeremy Taylor. Love is more sweet and comelier Than a Dove’s throat stretched out to sing. Swinburne. True love, profound love, is recognized by this, that it kills all other passions; Pride, ambition, coquetry, all are lost in it and disppear. —Michelet. Oh, Love! who to the hearts of wandering men Art as the calm to ocean’s wave 1 —Shelley Love gives itself but is not bought. —Longfellow. All true love is grounded on esteem. —Buckingham. “Confidence is the natural offspring of affection, and he who loves tenderly can keep no secret.” “There is only one thing that can give to life what your poet called the light that never was on land or sea, and that is human love.”— A mighty pain to love it is, And ’tis a pain that pain to miss, But, of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain. — Cowley. We pledged our heaits, my love and I I in my arms the maiden clasping, I could not tell the reason why, But oh ! I trembled like an aspen. Her father’s love she bade me gain, I went, but shook like any reed! I strove to act the man—in vain ! We had exchanged our hearts indeed, — Coleridge. [Among the many fine extracts which might be selected from Shakespeare the following I consid er his best thoughts on the subject.] . Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove O. no ! it is an everfixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, When worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. —Shakespeare, Movements in Southern Sooiety— Brilliant Weddings, Etc. The following was crowded out last week : The marriage of Miss Mary Rowan, daughter of the late Honorable John Rowan, formerly Minister to Naples, and for many years an emi nent statesman, to Mr. George Venable Bryan, of the firm of Jarvis & Co., tobacconists of New York, took place on the seventeenth of this month in the spacious parlors of the Galt House, in Louis ville, Ky. The occasion is described by a guest as one of the most elegant and beautiful scenes for which this great Southern hotel is famous. The wealth and high standing of the Rowan family is well known; the beauty of the bride very celebrated, and the gallant generalship of the groom the subject of envy and applause, since he won the heart of a belle who has re jected scores of suitors. Only a hundred guests were present, among them Hon. B. H. Bristow and wife, Judges Stiles, Pirtle and Joyce with their families, the Popes, Churchills, Boones, Buchanans, and some of the belles of Louis ville. Some of the toilettes were truly magnifi cent, and all were attired in elegant visiting cos tumes. The parlors were dazzlingly illumin ated with myriads of wax-lights and gas-jets; pyramids of plants with fragrant blossoms made the air delicious with perfumes, and the strains of music completed a perfectly ravishing scene. At one o’clock the bridal party entered the room prepared for the ceremony, and the Rev. Father Baxter performed the service ac cording to the rites of the Roman Catholic church. The dross of the bride was of very heavy rep silk, with o^Brdress of richest damask, made very decollete, and ornamented with point lace; tulle veil and orange blossoms, with pearls, thejjjgift of the groom on her fair throat and arms. After a sumptnous banquet, the newly- wedded pair left the city for a month’s tour in the North; after which they will return to Lou isville for a short visit, then to New York city, their future home. Otner joyous events are whispered of in the Galt House, and no wonder, for Cupid’s bow is ever drawn where bachelors and maids are many; Hymen’s torch is lighted still. Noplace is more desirable for magnificent display than this home-like hotel where Colonel Johnson, with his genial smile, his gallant bearing and watchful eye, is ever ready to preside as only Colonel Johnson can. One of the most notable social events trans piring in Baltimore for some time past, was the marriage on the afternoon of Thursday last, of Mr. Edward B. Bruce and Miss Elizabeth B. Coale, daughter of James Carey Coale, Esq. Emanuel Protestant Episcopal church, corner of Read and Cathedral streets, was crowded to its utmost capacity, and none were admitted without a card of admission. For once the bridal party were prompt, and at five o’clock precisely the long line of carriages rolled up to the church, and their gay inmates quickly alignted and entered the portals of the sacred edifice. The ushers took precedence in the bridal procession, and led the way two abreast. A marriage rivaling in interest any of the many that have taken place in Baltimore for a year or two back, was celebrated at Christ Prot estant Episcopal Church, on Wednesday last, at high noon. The contracting parties were Mr. George Coreil, one of our most popular young citizens, and Miss Gracie, daughter of A. G. Newton, Esq., formerly of the Atlantic Hotel, Norfolk, Ya. The bride is a member of the Christ Church choir, where her magnificent so prano voice has been so frequently heard and admired. Marriages in Virginia.—William G. Eggle- son to Mrs. Mary R. Heater, all of Frederick county. Mr. Samuel Runion to Mrs. Mary Flagless, in Shenandoah county. Mr. J. A. Louis to Miss Laura Price, of Pega county. At New Market, Mr. Joel Kagey to Miss Mol- lie Ruby, of Hawkinstown. Mr. Robert Rinker to Miss Mary Zehring. PERSONALS. Gen. Braton Bragg’s life was insured for 540, 000. Mrs. Lincoln is now sojourning with friends in California. Cincinnati pronounces Anna Dickinson a success as an actress. Stokes, the slayer of Jim Fisk, re-enters the world from his four years prison life, to-day, Sat urday, the 28th. Mrs. Jane M. Walker, President Polk’s sister, who died at Columbia, Tenn., a few days ago, left just 100 grand and great-grand children. The late Queen Dowager Josephine of Sweeden, left a fortune of 1,120,000 pounds. The princess of Wales is one of her principal heirs. Miss Astor, niece of the late William B. Astor, is soon to be married to an English gentleman, a distinguished lawyer, residing in London. The widow of Hiram Powers, the sculptor, and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Preston Powers, sailed from Boston for Europe on Saturday. Gov. Brown’s health is very much improved. The dry, salubrious air of Colorado has been ex ceedingly beneficial to his throat affection. Gen. Lafayettee McLaws has been appointed Postmaster at Savannah vice J. G. Clark, sus pended. Mr. Theodore Tilton lectured in Chickering Hall, New York, Monday evening, and Mr. Beecher lectured in the same building on Wednesday even ing. General A. H. Colquit, the Governor elect of Georgia was in Baltimore last week, and registered atBarnum’s Hotel. He was accompanied by Mrs. Colquitt. New York Tribune: The Hon. Herschel V. Johnson is a prominent candidate for United States Senator from Georgia. His election would be a great benefit to the State, and would go along way toward ballancing the Hon. Ben. Hill at the other end of the Capitol. The trousseau of Miss May, who is to marry James Gordon Bennett, has arrived from Europe, where it was collected at an expense of $20,000, according to Dame Rumor. It is said to be the most beautiful and elaborate ever prepared for an American lady. Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe has an autograph album which comprises twenty-six volumes and contains 562,848 names. They include nearly all the women of eminence in England and her colo nies, and are the signatures appended to the ap peal, addressed in 1851-52 by the women of Eng land to their sisters in America, on the subject of slavery. The son and daughter of ex-Senator Patterson, of Tennessee, and grand-children of ex-President Andrew Johnson, are visiting Mrs. Laura C. Hol loway, at her residence in Hanover Place, Brook lyn. Miss Patterson, who was a great attraction as a little child at the White House during her grand-father’s administration is now a young lady, and will make her debut in society this sea son. She expects to remain some time in Boston. Some one suggests this inquiry for naturalists to answer: “If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, is a mole on the face worth two-in the ground?” H6TINCT PRINT