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The Talk of Men and Women. To t wo classes we pay court: womeu and the aged. But the superi ority of women is perpetually men aced; they do not sit throned on in firmities like the old ; they are suitors as well as sovereigns; their vanity is engaged, their affections are too apt to follow; and hence much of the talk between the sexes degenerates Into something unworthy of the name. The desire to please, to shine with a particular engaging lustre, to draw a fascinating picture of oneself, banishes from conversation all that is sterling and most of what is humorous. As soon as a strong current of mutual admiration begins to flow, the human interest triumphs entirely over the intellectual, and the commerce o 1 words, consciously or not, becomes secondary to the commercing of eyes. Each simply waits upon the other to be admired, and the talk dwindles Into platitudinous piping. Coquetry and fatuity are thus the knell of talk. But even where this ridiculous danger is avoided, and a man and woman converse equally and honestly, some thing in their nature or their educa tion falsifies the strain. An instinct prompts them to agree; and where that is impossible, to agree to differ, Bhould they neglect the warning, at the first suspicion of an argument they find themoelves in different hemispheres. About any point ol business or conduct, any actual affair demanding settlement, a woman will r ak and listen, hear and answer arguments, not only with natural wisdom, but with candor and logical honesty. But if the subject of debate be something in the air, an abstrac tion, an excuse for talk, a logical Aunt Sally, then may the male debater instantly abandon hope; he may em ploy reason, adduce facts, be supple, be smiling, be angry, all shall avail him nothing ; what the woman said first, that (unless she has forgotten it) she will repeat at the end. Hence, at the very junctures when a talk be- between men grows brighter and quicker and begins to promise to bear fruit, talk between tbe sexes is menaced with dissolution. The point of difference, the point of interest, is evaded by the brilliant woman, under a shower of irrevelant conversational rockets; it is bridged by the discreet woman with a rustle of silk, as she passes smoothly forward to the nearest point of safety. It cannot be dis cussed in its natural connection. It may be returned upon after a circuit; and if propounded as a problem, with neither party committed to a side, it may then be gently, lightly, but, in the end, thoroughly treated. This Bort of prestidigitation, juggling the dangerous topic out of sight until it can be reintroduced with safety in an altered shape, is a piece of tactics among the true drawing-room queens The drawing-room is, indeed, an artificial place; it is so by our choice and/or our sins; the subjection of women, the ideal imposed upon them from the cradle and worn, like a hair- shirt, with so much constancy ; their motherly, superior tenderness to man’s vanity and self-importance, their managing arts—the arts of a civilized slave among good-natured barbarians —all are painful ingredients, and all help to falsify relat >ns. It is not till we get clear of that amusing, artificial scene that genuine relations are founded, or ideas honesty compared. In the gardeu, on the road or the hill side, or tete a-tete and apart from in terruptions, occasions arise when we may learn much from any single woman; and nowhere more often than in married life. Marriage is one long conversation, checkered by dis- utes. The disputes are simply value less; they but ingra’n the difference; the heroic heart of woman prompts her at once to nail her colors to the mast. But in the intervals, almost unconsciously, with no disire to shine, the whole material of life is turned over and over, ideas are struck out and shared, the two persons more and more adaut their notions one to suit the other, and in the process of time, without sound of trumpet, they con duct each other into new worlds of thought A Year Without a Summer. The “>ear without a summer” was 1816. Cittle were killed by freezing weather in June that year in tbe New Englaud and Middle States. In Maine and Vermont the snow was ten inches deep. July was wintry and icy. August wus the same, but in September it was a little warmer, and then came bitter cold weathfd until e eud of the year. The next year a fine productive season. Cheap Places to Live in. In the richest German household the mistress superintends the kitchen and lends a hand to the cook. There are certain dishes which she always makes with her own hauds, bt cause her Friiz likes them so. She may boast thirty-two qnarterings on her escutch eon aud be terribly proud of her line age, but she has no nonsensical ideas about its being degrading to put on a canvas apron, lard a piece of veal, make jams, or dole out with her own hands the prunes that are to be put into the potato stew. She keeps her best attire for Sundays, and makes it serve on a good many of these festals days, for she does not follow fashion blindly or in a hurry. On ordinary days, she dresses with a plainness which would excite the contempt of a French woman ; but then her culinary pursuits do not prevent her from being by far the intellectual superior of her French or Belgian sister. She reads serious books that she may be able to converse as an equal with her well-taught sons ; she practises music that she may remain on a level with her daughters who are trained to be brilliant pianists; and she finds time to read the newspaper in order that she may understand what her Fritz has to say about the topics of the day. The example thus set in high life by the “Frau Grafin” is copied in lower spheres by the “Frau Doctorin’’ and the “Frau Professorin.” These ladies keep no cooks; they perform most of the household labors with the assis tance of a maid-of-all- work, and when ever practicable they do all the wash ing of the family linen at home, aud make their own dresses. Withal they are very hospitable in a homely way. They delight in evening parties a* which cafeau latt is served with cakes aud sausage-3andwichea. A carpet dance, a little singing and music, round games and a good deal of frank flirtation between the young people, furnish the diversions at these enter tainments. In the winter several families club together to hire a large room in which Dreistemache (literally make-bold) assemblies are held once a week. Each family brings a certain quantum of the Refreshments, as at old-fashioned picnics, aud dancing is carried on within sensible hours, be tween 7 and 11 p. m. The object of these assemblies is to make young people “bold” to disport themselves at more ceremonious balls should they be called upon to do so ; in fact, they are unceremonious dancing parties at which the guests appear in morning attire and expect no costlier beverages at supper than lemonade and beer. The cheapest towns to go to in Ger many are the capitals of small Duchies. Berlin has become very dear. Dresden, Leipzig, Stuttgart, Munich, are all cheap in comparison with English cities, and they offer first rate educa tional advantages; but they will be found more expensive on the whole than such places as Brunswick, Cassel, Dermstadt, Weimar and Coburg. Taking Brunswick as a specimen of these second-rate towns, it is a place where a family can live in the utmost ei joyment and dignity on a small in come. It is an old fashioned town of picturesque architecture; but the streets are broad, and the houses large, with spacious and lofty rooms, wide oourtyards and grand staircases. Most of these dwellings are let in flats, each of which has its separate kitchen, with its wooden balcony overlooking the yard and a separate staircase for servants. A ten-room flat furnished can be had on a first floor in the best quarter for about sixty pounds a year; ou a second, for forty- flve pounds ; and on a third, for thirty pounds; but pri ces are lower in the old streets on the outskirts of the olty. It is not the cus- tum to let unfurnished, as almost all the houses contain a stock of old-fash ioned furniture dating from tie last century, when the court of Brunswick was one of the most brilliant in Ger many, and when the oity was crowded with wealthy residents. Ithasalltbe appearance of a wealthy city still, though the present Duke lives most of the year in Italy, and does little to at tract strangers to his handsome palace. It has a university, a gymnasium, a public school for boys, several private schools, and a large aoademy for girls; a museum, aud publio library, and a noble theatre. The Duke chiefly helps to support the theatre, and fir this much deserves the thanks of his sub jects. For many years the conductor of the orchestra was Franz Abt, the eminent composer, and at one time he had the best quatuor of violinists in Germany under his orders. Perfor mances are given at the theatre four times a week, operas being performed on two nights, and plays on the other two ; and the cost of a Speraits or staff is only six thalers, or eighteen shillings a month. All the ducal cities have good theatres, as it is a point of honor with the princeliugs who rule iu th< m to show that they are enlightened pat rons of music and the drama. The theatre of Ccburg has a well deserved renutation. Tourists will not find German hot 1 Is cheap, even in the small towns, for landlords have got into the habit of overcharging Englishmen, and noth ing seems likely to cure them of it; but the restaurations are very cheap. A substantial dinner with beer can be had for fifteen pence ; and in the brew eries, which officers frequent, a good supper, consisting of a plate of veal cutlets with fried potatoes, or bacon sausage and sauerkraut, c >sts but sevenpence, a glass of beer included. Schooling is as cheap as in Belgium, and better, for the disposition of Ger man youth is studious, aud the pro fessors are stimulated by the assiduity aud sharpness of their pupils. No English boy educated at a German school is likely to come home a dunce. These are the advantages of Ger many; but the country of course has its drawbacks from the English point of view, although these may be less discernible to our countrymen who in habit the Fatherland than to their friends at home who notice their peculiarities when they have returned from it. German schooling tends to convert an English boy into a very unpleasant species of young prig, con ceited and pragmatical; while it makes a girl tame aud dreamy. The dreamy propensities of German mai denhood are counteracted by the hard labor they perform among the dish- clouts and saucepans of the paternal kitchen ; but as English girls seldom take kindly to culinary tasks, the sen timentalism they acquire at German schools has no checks. Add to this, that German ladies have no taste in dress and set sad examples of dowdi- ness to the girls who live among them. It would be agreeable to be able to say that the German matron, when she has helped to dish up the family din ner, sits down cool and smart, with her hair neatly dressed, to do the honors of her own table; but the truth is, she sits down looking hot and un tidy. She may talk finely about cul ture, but her gewn is a very uncul tured affair ; she may play exquisitely on the piano, but it will be grief to watch her coarse red hands moving over the keys ; she may waltz to per fection, but the sight of her large ill sho 1 feet will be en >ugh to make a sensitive man sit down in a corner and sigh. The best corrective to a girl’s education in Germany would be a year’s finishing in France. A Poet’s Last Words. One of Heine’s friends, anxious for his conversion, asked him shortly be fore his death If he were at peace with God. “Set your mind at rest,” an swered Heine: “lebon Dieu me par- donnera, e’est son metier.” “ Do you believe m the existence of a Supreme Being?” the same person asked on another occasion. “ If a Supreme Be ing, perfectly omnipotent and all-see- 0 ing, exists, do you think he will care whether a wretched little mouse living in the Rue d’Amsterdam believes in Him or not?” “What good does it do me,” he laments, “ that at banquets my health is drunk out of golden gob lets and in the bestof wine if I myself, separated frem the joys of the world,- can only wet my lips with an insipid tisane f What good does It do me that enthusiastic youths and damsels crown my marble bust with laurels when on my real head a blister is being clapped behind my ears by an old sick-nurse? What lists it to me if all the roses of Shiraz glow and smell for me so sweetly ? Alas! Shi- nz is 2000 miles from the Rue d’Ams terdam, where I get nothing to smell, in the melancholy solitude of my sick room, but the perfume of warm nap kins.” “It is time,” he sing*, “to bury the old, unhappy ditties, and all the sad dreams, so fetch me a coffin vast. It must be vaster than Heidel berg’s vat, and longer than the bridge over the Main. And then fetch a dozen giants—they must be stronger than St. Christopher, in the Cathedral of Cologne, on the Rhine. They must take up that coffin aud sink it deep in the ocean wave, for suoh a mighty c< ffin must be laid in a mighty grave. Would you know why my coffin must be so vast and stout and wide ? I shall lay all my sorrows and love and (Ri- guish there, side by side.” The Grand Saeugerfest of the Ger man Singing Societies of Northeastern Pennsylvania opened in Scranton. Poet’s Corner. Wind of Summer. Wind of Summer, as you fly Poor me by, Seas over awaiuderlng to and fro, Gently blow! For my lover sans the sea— Pity me! And pray you, if you near him go, Gently blow! Wind, fly swiftly as a dove To my love; But near him fly safe aud slow— Gently blow! And, when with him, whisper this, With a kiss : That I miss him—miss him so! Gently blow 1 - MALCOLM NICHOLSON. Ralph Waldo Emerson. His soul was one with nature everywhere ; Her seer and pr phet and Interpreter, He waited In her courts lor love of her, And taught the lessons that he gathered there— The songs the wild birds sang; why flowers were fair; The sense of that divine, tumultuous stir When spring awakes, and all things minis ter To love; and hope and joy are In the air. Do the winds uilss him, and the fields he knew, And the lar stars that watched him night by night, Looking from out their steadfast dome of blue To lead him onward with their tranquil light— Or, do they know what gates he wandered through, What heavenly glory opened on bis sight 7 -LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. cion and jealousy. She is always in the house, and therefore her mind is apt to run in narrow grooves. The prodigality and wastefulness of men are things beyond her understanding or patience. She is unversed in affairs, and therefore comprehends nothing of compromise. She is generally ill-edu cated, and therefore is incapable of forming a judgment; hence she is carried away by every wind of doc trine ; as, for instance, in matters ec clesiastical, knowing noihl.ig of the E trly Church or its history, she be lieves the poor little Ritualist curate, who knows, indeed, no more than her self ; or in Art, where, for want of a standard, she is led astray by every fad and fashion of the day, and wor ships sad faced flatnesses with rapture; or in dress, where, her taste being un cultivated, she puts on whatever is most hideous and unbecoming, provid ed it is worn by everybody else. This is the woman whom Charles Reade presents to us; she is not, at all events, insipid ; no real women are ; if she is artificial, she *hows the reaf woman beneath. What he loves most is the woman whom fashion has not spoiled; the true, genuine woman, with her natural passion, her jealousy, her devotion, her love of admiration her fidelity, her righteous wrath, her maternal ferocity, her narrow faith, her shrewdness, even her audacity of falsehood when that can serve her per- pose, and her perfect abnegation of self. Concurrent Testimony. “Is It wrong to kiss?” asked a timid maid Ol the shimmering sands that border the deep. But no answer she got save the wavelets played • A loundtlay gay as they kissed her feet. She asked the sun, but he only turned His saucy lace Irom the eastern sky, And kissed her cheeks till they fairly burned, And a tear of vexation dimmed her eye. She asked the wind as it came Iron* the south Tbeself-same question. The answer came For a zephyr sprang up and kissed her mouth And ruby red lips till they seemed aflame. She asked a youth who had chanced along, And the moral question was solved in a trice; For he answered: “O, maiden, It may be wrong, But’’—here he proved it—“It's very nice 1“ If the sea and sun and soft south w ind Kiss unmolested by bolt or ban WUere the heart Is eagi r, and lips and mind Are not reluctant, why shouldn’t man 7 Sub Luna, Fair Moon, wnose orb of mellow light Illumines all the land below As Inez’ eyes make UarknesB bright When they, two moons, do softly glow, What does my love to-night 7 Ye golden beams thatlondly play Her raven locks soft span among, That fain would steal her smile away To rival Sol In mid-sky hung. How seems my love to-night 7 Twlxt her and me, thyself the key. Thy beams an arching bridge shall form, Naught but dear love shall pass from me, Pray naught but thiB from her be borne. What thinks my leve to night? • •***• Tbe darkness grows, thy brightness fades, A mlsly veil thy f<oe enshrouds, So, dls-m/^gloom my heart Invades, . ts Intv hid by memory’s clouds, Farewell, my love, tc-nlght. Charles Reade’s True Woman. Reade, in fact, invented the True Woman. That is to say, he was the first who found her. There have been plenty of sweet and charming women in stories—the patient, loving Amelia ; the bouncing country girl, Sophy Western ; the graceful and gracieuses ladies of Scott; tha pretty dummies of Dickens ; the insipid sweetnesses of Thackeray; the proper middle-class (or upper-alass) girl of Trollope; the conventional girl of the better lady novelists. There have also been disa greeable girls, especially the bad style, detestable girl of the “worser” lady novelists ; but Reade—the trovvere— has found the real woman. You will meet her on every page of all his novels. What Is she? My friends, Columbus’s egg was not simpler. She is just exactly 1 ke a man, like our selves but with certain womanly ten dencies. Like ourselves, she ardently desires love. She knows that it is the best—the absolutely best—thing the world has to give: that we are all born for love—man and woman alike ; that to lack this consummate and supreme blessing is to loss the best part of life. Since she desires above all things to be wooed, and is forbiddon to woo on her own account, she conceals her own thoughts, yet, from her own experi ence in hiding, she is quick at reading the thoughts of others. She is satis fied with nothing less than wbat she herself gives, which is all herself. Her reserve leads her, In the lower natures, to deceit and falsehood. Her devotion, whiefi la part of her nature, leads her —also in the lower natures—to suspl- In the Dolman Country. The Breton men look like overgrown boys, with their short waistcoats and shorter jackets ornamenti d with nu merous rows of pearl buttons. The cloth trousers are full, and the univer sal sabots complete one end of the cos tume. At the other end is a wide- brimmed low felt or straw hat, on which it is indispensable to wear black velvet trimming, with two long black velvet tails hanging behind. Leather boots are kept for Sundays and fetes; and the smartness on those occasions appear to run mostly into the waistcoat, the colored braiding on which is al most Eastern in its gorgeousness. The skirts of the women’s dresses are gathered into a broad band at the waist, a kerchief or shawl being worn over the shoulders. The hair is plaited into a broad band, which is doubled on itself; and the muslin cap has two long lappets, or ears, which are folded back on the head, forming large loops. As for the peasants themselves, the msjority of whom farm their own small domains, they bear a toil-worn stamp very markedly, especially the women. Tne bare-legged women and girls seem to take their share, or rather more than their share, in the hardest field labor; and their lot is very far removed from what an English eye would like to see. Many features of the country life remind one of Ireland; but the ingrained idea of the French peasant to put by francs seems to carry them bravely through the sternest cir cumstances. S:ill, with all tfeir moil ing, they must be very poor. The houses in the out-of-the-way villages are little better than hovels, in which the cows frequently get the lion’s share of the accommodation, with floors of beaten earth, and old open hearths, picturesque, perhaps, but very smoky. The one article of furni ture in which luxury is dismayed is the bedstead, which is generally a piece of ornamental woodwork, reach ing from fl >or to ceiling, with the bed five feet from the floor, inclosed by curtains or sliding shutters. As the family grows richer a substantial ward robe cupboard is added to match the bed. Influence of Early Feeding upon Vitality, Investigations made in Germany concerning the comparative vitality of children under .various methods of feeding exhibit some peculiar results. Thus, of 100 children nursed by their mothers only 18 2 died during the first year; of those nursed by wet nurses, 39.83 died; of those artificially led, 60 died ; and of those brought up in in stitutions, 80 died to the 100. Again, taking 1,0(0 well-to-do persons and 1,000 poor persons, there remained of the prosperous, after flve years, 943, while of the poor only 6 5 remained alive; alter fifty years there remained of the prosperous 557, and only 383 of the poor; at seventy years of age there remained of the piosperous 235, and but 65 of the poor. The total average length of life among the well-off class was found to be fifty years, as against thirty-two among the poor. Olfloers of various white military companies met in Petersburg, Vir ginia, and organized the Fourth Reg iment of Virginia Voluntelrs.