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house. Arrived there, while going in, Uncle
Charley contrived to linger a little behind, with
Mrs. Holmes.
“Permit me now,” he said in his low earnest
tones, “to apologize to you for my apparent rude
ness of the other night. I trust I have now
proved to you, by risking my life in your sendee,
that I only value it while hoping to enjoy your
favor.”
By this time they were too near the other
guests to admit of a reply—which occurred just
as the cunning Mr. Hampton intended—and
Mrs. Holmes could only lift her eyes to the
speaker's face, to see if she could read his
thoughts. She encountered Uncle Charley’s
steadfast gaze, fixed full upon her. Enquiringly,
searcliingly, they both looked, as if they would
pry into the most secret recesses of each other’s
hearts. They walked through tho hall, and sep
arated, each wondering what the other meant.
The reader will, no doubt, suppose that after
'** this, Uncle Charley was frequently in close con
versation with Mrs. Holmes. On the contrary,
however, he seemed to avoid conversing with
her; but he sought every occasion to render her
little services. If she complained of the draught
from a door or window, he hastened to close it.
If a chair was not convenient when she entered
the room, he was before every body else in pro
curing one for her. Indeed, he strove to make
it appear, in a thousand ways, that her happi
ness and convenience were his sole care.
To her thanks he replied by resolutely per
sisting that he only did what common politeness
required.
“And what could have been his object in all
this?” asks the reader. “Was he trying, delib
erately, to win a heart that he might trample
upon it? And is this the man whose ‘heart is
in the right place ?’ ”
[to be continued.]
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
“MARY! THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON.”
BY MISS ANNIE K. BLOUNT.
Let me tune my harp to its sweetest lays,
When its notes would warble forth thy praise;
Ah! would that its music might carol by
With a tone as soft as the Zephyr's sigh,
Till tho waking echoes should catch We name
Which is spoke by the clarion voice of fame!
Thy eulogy lives in the deeds of thy son—
Mary, the mother of Washington!
Thine was the eye of affection mild,
Which watched o'er the path of the Hero-child;
Thou wert tho one who taught him to pray,
And guided his feet in the ‘narrow way.’
Ah! holy, and deep is a mother’s love,
Pure as the spirits of angels above; —
And blest be thy rest then, angel one,
Mary, the mother of Washington 1
Thy name shall live on fair History's page,
Coupled with hero, and statesman, and sage;
A fadeless wreath for thee we will twine,
The bard to thy worth breathe his magic line.
■While time shall be, thy fame must resound,
Aye, even to Earth's remotest bound,
Greater than that by proud conqueror won—
Mary! the mother of Washington.
Say, came there no dream of his future fame,
When his infant lips first breathed thy name ?
On his forehead fair—in his earnest eye,
Did'st thou read the startling prophecy ?
When thy kisses fell first on his baby brow,"
Could'st thou see the stainless wreath that now
The world has wove for thy noble son.
And placed on the gravo of Washington f
Home had its Caesar great, and brave,
But his laurels were dipped in a gory wnve;
Blinded by false ambition’s light,
lie strove for and won the giddy height.
Ilis wreath was stained in the odious flood
Swollen by the slave’s and by captive’s blood;
How pure by the contrast Btands thy son—
A Nation's Father—our Washington!
France had its Eagle of dauntless heart.
Who acted all bravely the Hero’s part;
Music for him was the cannon’s roar,
But ho dabbled his wing in murder’s gore;
- He flashed his sword with a tiger's wrath,
And his name resounds on glory's path.
But what is the fame these conqueror's won,
When compared with that of our Washington ?
He sought to preserve his country's right
By words of reason, not by wrong and might—
By harsh injustice his heart was steeled,
And the Hero rushed to the battle field.
He fought for the country that gave him birth,
When war had invaded each quiet hearth;
Not with tyrant’s hate, nor with des;>ot's rage,
But with patriot ire, calm, stern, and sage.
No dastardly fears could that strong heart cower,
He cringed to no tyrant's threatening power;
He trembled never nt the despot's nod,
Nor bent he the knee to aught but his God,
Struggling on bravely through the darkest night;
Striking for liberty, for truth, and right;
Nor laid he his warrior's armor down.
For kingly case, or imperial crown.
The blasts of fame may loudly ring,
And poet's harp of proud heroe’s sing;
But brightest of all on the record page.
Os the stars that arose on the darkest age,
Is that which tells of the Christian life
Os one who fought, not for love of strife —
A planet star, it will shine alone,
The great and the glorious Washington 1
And thou—whenever our freemen boast
Os liberty bought at so dear a cost;
When across the wave weary exiles come
To find in Freedom's home a home—
When our banner all beautiful, and grand,
Floats proudly above this glorious land;
Blessings will rise from every one,
For Mary! tho mother of Washington!
A laurel the warrior's brow to wreathe,
Bays for the bards who sweet songs breathe;
A rose-twined chaplet lor beauties fair.
Shamed by the roses their soft cheeks wear.
But a holier garland we weave for thee,
The crown of a bright Immortality—
’Tis formed by the deeds of thy Hero-son,
Mary! the mother of Washington!
Augusta, Ga.
is i 1
Crime in London and New York. —The Lon
don correspondent of the Philadelphia Inquirer
says that, whilst one sees more wretchedness
and destitution in London in twenty-four hours
than lie would meet with in New York or Phila
delphia in a life time, yet, during nearly seven
months that he has lived in that city of three
millions, there has not been a public execution,
nor is there at this time a single individual in
London under sentence of death. The crime of
a murder is far less common there than in the
large cities of the United States. The New
York Express gives an account of fifteen mur
ders and attempts to kill in a single week.—
Even since the execution of the Baltimore mur
derers, there has been more blood shedding in
that city. The certainty of punishment in Eng
land, without regard to social position, operates
as a preventative of thousands of offences.
SXB 80VS888B SXHUt ID FX&E&XSE.
Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.
LETTERS FROM MY LOG CABIN-NO. 4.
I find it necessary to the elucidation of the
events which occur in the narrative, to devote
a Letter descriptive of some of the most nota
ble objects that were in and about this venera
ble ex-metropolis, at the period of which I write.
Time has shorn it of many of the things that
commemorated the glory of the past; but it
still enjoys a green old age, and like some
amiable people whom I have known —and some
that I yet have the pleasure of numbering among
my friends—it has grown old with such smooth,
quiet amenity, that attention is scarcely ever at
tracted to the accumulation of years.
The old State House has disappeared from
among the things of earth. It has gone down
to the dust, and will no more be seen. Its exact
site is already but inaccurately distinguished :
yet the incidents with which it has been asso
ciated, will be remembered, and live in our his
tories and traditions, when the place where it
stood will be forgotten.
There always comes a train of sad and pen
sive musiugs trailing through my mind, as the
memorials of the past finally disappear. I read
here a grave lesson admonishing us that change,
change is the inevitable law of our nature —that
“passing away ” is impressed upon earthly things.
It seems but as yesterday, that all the broad
lands which surrounded the Capitol, were prime
val forests, standing in their ancient and solitary
gloom—
“ Through which the Indian roved in native pride,
“And built his fires, and loved, and waned, and died.”
But the pioneer came with his axe and plow
share, and the forest passed away; and ere long,
in the place of the council house and the wig
wam of the Indian, rose the holy sane and dwel
ling of the Puritan.
I stood by when tho busy workmen, with
shout and clamor, tore down the time-scarred
walls of the old Capitol, for the purpose of erect
ing near its site a temple in which the even
handed goddess of the scales is presumed to
preside. As pillar, and cornice, and wall, one
after another came tumbling down, they called
up a host of reflections. There had been the
scene of many a triumph of genius ; within
those walls, soul stirring eloquence had pealed
like strains of martial music, rousing and sway
ing the multitude; here noble and ignoble acts
had taken place—deeds of patriotism and of
knavery; there frauds had been committed, and
honest devotion to the public good rewarded. —
Men and minds came in contact there, and
wrestled for the mastery, who little considered
perhaps, what influences the success of either
might have upon the State half a century after.
It was here that a Jackson, a Crawford, or a
Cobb, won unfading laurels. This was the po
litical cradle of a Berrien, a Troup, and a For
syth. The long remembered scene of the confla
gration of the Yazoo papers, which, when
brought out of the house at the door that front
ed to the North, and placed in a pile to be burn
ed, a grey-headed veteran of the Revolution
cried out, “Bum them with fire from Heaven !"
which acted like an electric flash among the peo
ple, and it was immediately done. Here, too,
was tho last place where the Red Man came, as
a common custom, to look upon tho council of
the White Man, —and w here he left his laconic
and amusing, if not truthful, commentary upon
it; “ White Man — big fuss — much talk—much
whisky /’’
Rich, however, as it was in reminiscences, and
in political associations, these
“Could not all.
Reprieve the tottering building from its fail P
As a volunteer chronicler, I will put upon re
cord a description of the old State House, in ac
cordance witli my best recollection of it, in tho
hope that it may not be uninteresting.
The building stood at the South-east end of
the town, on a level square of ground, contain
ing about four acres. It was of brick, two
stories high, and about sixty feet square. There
were but two doors of entrance to it—one on
the South side, and one on the North. The lat
ter was the most common entrance. A very
broad passage extended through the building
from door to door. To the right hand, or West
side, on the lower floor, was tho Representative
Hall, if it could be so termed. It extended the
whole length of the building from North to
South, but was only some eighteen or twenty
feet wide; and separated from the passage by
simple but substantial open wood work, about
six feet high; in the centre of which was a sin
gle door of the same open work. The Speaker’s
desk was on the west side of the Hall, and op
posite the door of entrance. On the East side
of the broad passage, were two rooms—one oc
cupied by the Treasurer, and the other by the
Surveyor General.
Opposite tho Representative Hall, and about
midway the passage, commenced a broad flight
of steps, which led by an easy curved ascent, to
the second floor. The distance between the
floors was nearly fifteen feet. The arrangement
of the second story was the same as the first,
with the exception, perhaps, of a small committee
room, to make which, the Senate Chamber was
curtailed; and also that this Hall was divided
by a thick plastered wall from the passage.
There was but one door of entrance to it On
the East side, and opposite the Senate Chamber,
were the Executive and Secretary of State’s
offices. Tho office of Comptroller General being
of subsequent creation, the four rooms 'mentioned
seemed to be all that the business of the State
required.
There appears to have been no lobby, or seats
prepared for the accommodation of spectators, in
either hall of the Legislature.
The fact of the two Houses meeting, the one
below, and the other above stairs, gave a special
appropriateness to their designation as the
“Upper House” and the “Lower House 1”
As a whole, the interior was very plain, sim
ple, and unpretending, as compared with the
lofty, well-ventilated, well-lighted and ornate
Hall of our present Capitol. But the wants of
our fathers were tew and simple; and most of
the men who then constituted our law-makers
were less acquainted with the luxuries than the
toils of life. They were a race that had been
made hardy by a life of labor and endurance;
and it is doubtless well for their country and
their descendants that it was so; for we re
ceived a government and institutions from them
of the severest simplicity, with few of the
shackles which an advanced civilization has
found necessary to impose. What it may be
come in another century, is mere superfluous
conjecture. But an equal ratio of progress with
the last fifty years, may make it other than
originally intended. It might now, very ration
ally, be asked, if the height to which civiliza
tion and refinement are carried in some of our
cities, is not a curse to society, rather than a
blessing? Whether it is not absolutely des
tructive of the essential civil and social virtues
in both sexes? But this is a digression hardly
in place here.
After the removal of the seat of government,
the State House became the property of the an
cient order of Masons by purchase. They dis
posed of one half of it to the county authorities,
who converted the Representative Hall into a
Court room, for which purpose it answered very
well. The Senate Chamber became the Masonic
Lodge room of one of the oldest Lodges in the
State, and so continued for a great many years.
A Chapter of the Order existed here, of which
some of the most distinguished men of the State
were members. This Hall was also used, on
most occasions, as an Assembly room; and
many a Quadrille, Minuet, and Rigadoon, have
the fathers and mothers danced there, whose
descendants are now scatered over this and ad
joining States.
The Rigadoon was a very popular dance, and
so continued for nearly one hundred and fifty
years—having been introduced into England in
the latter part of the reign of Charles 11. by one
Monsieur Isaac, a celebrated teacher of dancing.
Such was its universal popularity, that an en
thusiastic admirer of the time declared of it—
“ That Isaac's Rigadoon will last as long,
As Homer’s Iliad or as Virgil’s song.”
But the prediction has failed; and the name
of the capering Frenchman has well-nigh escaped
the memory of man— certes, his Iligadoons have
been lost in the elegance of the Cotillon, and
the dizzy whirl of the Waltz, Polka, and other
fashionable dances.
There was one other department of this for
mer venerable edifice, that I had almost forgot
ten to notice, namely:—a deep roifhd well, un
der the broad stairs. There are some men now
living, who were boys with myself, at the time
the Lodge met in the old State House, and whose
credulous ears drank in the terrible stories of
that old well, —the least of which was. that it
was a place for inflicting punishment upon de
linquent members of the Masonic Fraternity !
And many a “juvenile” descanted to his fellows,
mysteriously, upon tlid horrible noises which
were affirmed to have been heard at times m the
old building, when the Masons were known to
be assembled there. But as I have no positive
information on the subject, it must be left to
conjecture whether tradition is correct, or whe
ther the well was really sunk for the con
venience of the State House officers, and the
members of the Legislature.
In the centre of Broad-street, and about mid
way the Town from East to West, stands the
oldest Market House in the State of Georgia. I
do not mean to say there was a Market House
here before there was one in Savannah, or Au
gusta,—but that the structure is the oldest. —
That in Savannah has been remodeled and im
proved, and the Lower Market House in Augus
ta was destroyed by the memorable fire in
April, 1829, and has been since rebuilt. But this
building has remained unaltered from the time
of its erection, more than fifty years ago, to the
present time, with the exception of a few occa
sional repairs.
It is a plain, round structure, between twenty
or thirty feet square, raised on a foundation ot
solid brick work, two or three feet high. The
frame of the body is open on every side, with
the exception of a few feet at the base, which
are planked up. The roof is hipped, or four
sided, and surmounted by a cupola, on the
spire of which is a “weather-cock,” in the shape
of a huge fish. It is very well executed, and is
said to have been designed by a very young and
beautiful girl. The building presents on the
whole, the appearance of some of the old Forts
that used to stand upon our frontiers, of which
Fort Hawkins, near Macon, is a sample; and
between which and this venerable Market House
there is a very striking resemblance.
A bell hangs in the cupola, which is rung for
marketing, and for public sales and public meet
ings ; and by a special decree of the Intendant
and Wardens, it is also rung at 9 o’clock at night
—and on the alarm of Fire 1 It was customary,
in those times, on the occurrence of the latter
casualty, especially in the dead hour of night, to
discharge also an old two pound swivel, which
usually stood on the State House Square, and
formerly belonged to an Artillery company in
the county. The Artillery company disbanded
long years ago; but this “mortal engine” re
mained the property of the public. Besides aid
ing in advising the slumbering citizens of immi
nent danger from conflagration and commemora
ting the glorious day of Independence, it was
often used to announce the ephemeral triumphs
of political parties, and sometimes pressed into
the service to give eclat to bridals. It was up
on a quite recent wedding occasion that some
friends of the parties loaded and discharged this
gun in honor of the event they were celebra
ting, when, sad to relate, either from being over
charged, or from the decay of age, or both com
bined, it burst, strewing the ground with its
fragments. Thus, suddenly ended its long and
noisy career. Most fortunately, no one was in
jured by the accident. And a few weeks since,
while taking a drive with an esteemed friend,
we passed the scene of the disaster, and beheld
the shattered remains of the long familiar “Old
Kate,” as the boys called her, lying uncared for
on the green sward.
Mothers in the Nursery. —See the young
mother in the nursery with an unfolding human
character committed to her charge—see her
profoundly ignorant of the phenomena with
which she has to deal, undertaking to do that
which can be done but imperfectly, even with
the aid of the profoundest knowledge. She
knows nothing about the nature of the emotions
their order of evolution, their functions, or where
use ends and abuse begins. She is under the
impression that some of the feelings are wholly
bad, which is also not true of any one of them.
And then, ignorant as she is of that which she
has to deal, she is equally ignorant of the effects
that will be produced on it by this or that treat
ment. What can be more inevitable than the
disastrous results we see hourly arising? Lacking
knowledge mental phenomena, with their causes
and consequences, her interference is frequently
more mischievous than absolute passivity would
have been. This and that kind of action, which
are quite normal and beneficial, she perpetually
thwarts ; and so diminishes tho child’s happi
ness and profit, injures its temper and her own,
and produces estrangement.
Deeds which she thinks it desirable to encour
age, she gets performed by threats and bribes,
or by exciting a desire for applause, considering
little what the inward motives may be, so long
as the outward conduct conforms, and thus culti
vating hypocrisy, and fear, and selfishness, in
place of good feeling. While insisting on truth
fulness, she constantly sets an example of un
truth, by threatening penalties which she does
not inflict. While inculcating self-control she
hourly visits on her little ones angry scoldings
for acts that do not call for them. She has not
the remotest idea that in the nursery, as in the
world, tjiat alone is truly salutary discipline
which visits on all conduct, good or bad, the
natural consequences, pleasurable or painful,
which in the nature of things such conduct tends
to bring. Being thus without theoretic gui
dance, and quite incapable of guiding herself by
tracing tho mental processes going on in her
children, her rule is impulsive, inconsist, mis
chievous often in the highest degree.
Westminster Review.
SALE OF WORDSWORTH’S LIBRARY.
The sale of this library of nearly 3,000 vol
umes in every class of literature, for which the
literary world had looked with anxiety, took
place on last Tuesday, Wednesday and Thurs
day, under the management of Mr. John Bur
ton of Preston. There was a large attendance
of booksellers from London, Dublin, Manches
ter and other towns, of clergymen, and other
buyers. Among ti e latter were Lady Cran worth.
Sir John Richardson, of Arctic fame, Dr. Davy,
the brother of the inventor of the safety-lamp,
and the Rev. J. Wordsworth, a grandson of the
poet. The first day’s sale seemed somewhat
affected by the weather, the rain pouring in tor
rents, and preventing a thronged attendance.—
On the second day there was more animation in
the biddings, and on Thursday, the concluding
day, when the books sold were principally in
verse, the bulk of them being presentation cop
ies from their authors to Wordsworth, there was
much competition, some of the lots bringing re
markably high amounts. It should bo noticed
that autographs, inserted in most of the books,
gave them great additional value in the eyes of
the bidders. Among the most attractive lots
were the following: 39. Mr. T. Herbert, “De
scription of the Persian Monarchy, now being the
Orientall Indyes; a relaticSi of some Years'Tra
vaill begunne Anno 1626,” folio, call 1634; very
scarce—£l2 12s. 59. “Political Disquisitions,” 3
vols., Bvo., calf, 1774 (“FromThomas de Quincey
to William Wordsworth, Grasmere, Friday, June
22d, 1810,” in De Qtiincey's autograph), £1 Is.
164. Talfourd, T. N. (Mr. Justice), “Recollec
tions of a First Visit to the Alps in 1841,” with
autograph presentation of the learned author,
and MS. sonnet on the reception of the poet
Wordsworth at Oxford, and five others —15s.
204. “Calvino, Joanne, Institntio Christiana'
Religionis,” Bva, calf, Genev;e (autographs of
“S. T. Coleridge,” and “W. Wordsworth”), 1569
—£l 4s. 224. “Donne, John (Dr. in Divinity),
LXXX. Sermons Preached by that Learned
and Reverend Divine in the Cathedral Church of
St. Paul’s, London,” folio, calf, 1640. Autograph
“William Wordsworth, bought at Ashby de la
Zouche, 1809”—£1. 285. “Purchas, his Pil
grimage ; or, Relations of the World and the
Religions observed in all Places Discovered from
ttie Creation to the Present The third edition,
by Samuel Purcbas, parson of St. Martin's by
Ludgage, London, folio. Printed by William
Stansby, for Henry Fetlierstone, and are to bo
sold at liis shop, in Paul’s Churchyard, at the
Sign of the Rose.” 1617 —£1 3s. 339. Brown,
Sir Thomas, “ Religio Medici, with observations,
by Sir Kenelm Digby,” Bvo., 1669 (autograph
“William Wordsworth, given to him by Charles
Lamb”), and three others, £1 6s. 361. De Re
Rustica, M. Catonis, 4c., not perfect, but con
taining numerous MS. annotations and observa
tions by the late poet laureate, 2 vols., 4t0.,
Parisiis, apud Stepani, Russia, 1543. It is by
this work its extraordinary author, statesman,
historian, orator, is identified with the science of
agriculture. It consists of very brief directions
for the management of a farm, and for economi
cal housekeeping, from the buying of an estate
to a charm for curing oxen, and a recipe for
eheesebakes. 478. Bulwer's (Sir Edward Lytton)
Siamese Twins, and other poems, Bvo., 1831
(with autograph presentation by the author to
the “Illustrious Wordsworth”), and another
book, 10s. 479. Lord Byron's Works, 4 vols.,
12m0., 1830. (Wordwortli’s autograph in each
volume.) This work, which was published at
18s., realized £3 9s. 490. George Chapman’s
translation of “the whole works of the Prince of
Poets in his Illiads and Odyssey, according to
the Greeke” (with the engraved frontispiece by
Hollar, and portrait by Hole, so rarely to bo met
with), at Loudon; printed for Nathaniel Butter —
£5. 491. Chapman’s Homer, another copy, with
out frontispiece, but containing the engraved ded
ication, on the back of which is written thirteen
lines by S. T. Coleridge, dated February 12,
1808, a comparison of Chapman with Ben Jon
son and Milton; a long MS. criticism of Chap
man’s merits os a translator, by the same writer,
also inserted within the cover—£3 9s. 499.
Collins' ( William ) Odes on several descriptive
and allegoric subjects, small 4t0., 1747; the first
edition extremely rare—l6s. 611. Parnassus
(England's), or the Choysest Flowers of our Modern
Poets, with their Poeticall Comparisons ; hereunto
are annexed various Discourses, both pleasant
and profitable,” 12m0., imprinted at London,
1600: Wit’s “Recreations, containing 630 Epi
grams, 160 Epitaphs, and variety of Fantasies
and Fantastics, good for Melancholy Humors,”
12m0., 1641. These two thin duodecimos, in
tattered leather covers, were sold for £2 12s.—
629. Randolph’s (Thomas, M. A.) “Muses’Look
ing glass,” 4c., 12m0., Oxford, 1688 ; England’s
“Helicon, of the Muses’ Harmony,” 1614.
These two little books were bought, after an
animated contest, for £4 14s. 647. Scott's
(Sir W.) “ MarmioD,” 4t0., 1808, with au
tograph, “Walter Scott to W. Wordsworth”—
£1 10s. 649. Scott’s (Sir W.) “Lord of the
Isles,” 4t0., 1815, with autograph, “W. Words
worth, from Walter Scott’—£l 18s. 689.
Wordsworth's Poems, in 2 volumes, 1807, largely
annotated, revised, and amended for subsequent
editions; Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
volume 5, 1837, a few penciled memoranda in
side the cover; The Loss of the Locks, a poem,
the two last pages MS., in the autograph of the
author, James Montgomery, Sheffield, Decem
ber 1799—£2 12s 6d. 690. Wordsworth's Po
etical Works, 6 volumes, 12 mo., Moxon, 1837.
Perhaps more than in any other existing data,
the growth of the poet’s mind may bo perceived
in these volumes. They contain a large amount
of variorum readings, inspired jottings, and con
structive emendations, together with additional
short poems in the author’s pencil autograph.—
It is most probable these were his pocket compan
ions and communists in his later poetical ram
bles, and in his fireside musings. This work,
published at 3s. was, in consequence of the
manuscript interpolations of Wordsworth, eager
ly contested for. After a-lively competition, It
was purchased for £ls. 691. Wordsworth's
Sonnets, collected in one volume, 12 mo., 1838.
These sonnets, published at 65., similarly dis
tinguished with the previous lot, were also much
coveted, being eventually knocked down for £5
6s.— London Times, July loth.
-
Milton’s Famous Autograph comixo to
America. —The London Critic states “that the
Milton Autograph, being a receipt to tho pub
lisher for an installment of the purchase money
for ‘Paradise Lost,’ (sold at the Dawson Turner
sale,) was bought for transmission to Philadel
phia for forty-five pounds.” The Critic asks very
naturally, “ What were the British Museum
authorities about to let sueli an opportunity
slip ?”
Mu. Hillard, in a letter from Liverpool to the
Boston Courier, states wliat does not appear to
very generally known to our countrymen, that
in the examination of travellers’ luggage by the
officers of customs, American reprints of Eng
lish books are absolutely excluded; they are
taken away and destroyed.
From the London Daily AVtrs, July 11.
KB. BAREY’B METHOD OF TAMING HOBsS.
A public exhibition by Mr. Rarey of the mode
in which he has contrived to subdue the wildest
and most savage of the equine race with such
marvellous and invariable success, took place at
the Alhambra, in Leicester Square, on Saturday
afternoon. A numerous and fashionable com
pany of spectators were there assembled. Mr.
Rarey, since his former appearance in London,
has made a victorious progress through the con
tinent of Europe, winning tokens of royal and
imperial approbation, as well as the patronage
of every nation’s chivalry from Paris to St. Pe
tersburg. His demonstrations are still charac
terized, as before, by the air of perfect confidence
in the infallible efficacy of his art, together with
that modest abstinence from any assumption of
personal superiority, which were so remarkable
in one who had certainly proved himself able to
perform what nobody was ever known to do
so instantaneously and so surely by any other
means.
The secret—while it remained such—of Mr.
Rnry’B process was so simple and so practical,
that the most cunning wiseacres could not have
guessed at it It was like the problem of Co
lumbus and his eggs—an open secret—which
much cogitation and far-fetched researches must
have failed to discover, but which appears easy
now when the inventor has shown us the way.
Mr. Rarey aims at making a salutary impression
upon the horse's mind—teaching the animal
that man does not mean to hurt him, but cannot
only caress him, but throw him down, wrestle
with him, tiro him out, at any time. The instru
ment by which any man of competent strength
and agility may wrestle down any horse, and
quite exhaust the spirits of the noble brute, in
the course of an hour or two, consists of nothing
more than a pair of buckle-straps,- to be dexte
rously adjusted to the fore-legs. The arena
most be thickly covered with sawdust or tan,
and the usual feather coverings put upon the
horse’s knees, in order to- protect him from in.
jury. A biter’s head must be secured by fas
tening the reins back to the surcingle.
Mr. Rarey begins by coaxing the animal,
speaking kindly to him, and looking pleasantly
at him, tlieu stroking and patting his shoulder
with a guileless air, until, watching his opportu
nity, he can suddenly lift the near foreleg, and
taking the first strap unobservedly out of his
pocket, fastens it below the pastern and half'
way above the knee. From that moment th e
limb being doubled up, the horse can only hop
painfully on three legs, and a child may lead
him by the bridle. The next thing is to attach
the second strap to the other fore-foot, and, by a
judicious pull, to bring the creature down upon
both knees. Then begins a very unequal strug
gle. The horse rears himself upon his hind legs,
and falls again and again. The man lias to ex
ert some activity to prevent the horse falling up
on him, and to hold the strap of the off leg in
in such a manner as to prevent the horse put
ting his fore-foot to the ground. Trailing his
superb nose in the saw-dust, panting and wea
ried with these unwonted exertions, the indig
nant steed is presently obliged to succumb, and
a slight push on the quarters makes him lie
down. Then the man definitively ties up the
off fore-foot to the upper part of the leg, in the
same manner as the near fore-leg has been tied
up. Then he speaks comfortably to the captive,
consoles him with friendly and flattering ges
tures —makes love to him, in fact, as he lies
there in helpless pride and resentment on the
ground.
The horse may suddenly get up on Ins lund
legs, plunging and rearing again; but the result,
in a few minutes, will be the same ; down upon
his side ho must go. As Mr. Rarey observes,
the generous beast has not sufficient intelli
gence to distinguish between the strap which
throws him down and the human hand which
fixes the strap, so that the imnression made
upon his unsophisticated mind, is that the ani
mal man is physically stronger than the animal
The beast being of an eminently practical
turn of mind, no sooner is the conclusion arriv
ed at, along with the experience of man’s kind
ness and benevolent intentions towards him—
for a blow, a liareh word, or even an impatient
and startling gesture would spoil the lesson
then the horse consents to let the man be his
master henceforth. We saw Mr. Rarey apply
the treatment to a terrific fellow of a stallion,
the “King of Oude,” belonging to Mr. Thomas
r ° rr ’ , j ,
The horse, which hi seven years old, and
above sixteen hands high, has ? nce or twice iur»
with glory on the turf, but in the stable his con
duct has been execrable. lie has been known
to attack the groom, who was as good as a father
to him, and tear the coat off the man’s back; he
has kicked his stall to pieces, and torn the man
ger into shreds with his teeth, until the stable
furniture was cased in plates of iron to defy his
mischief. When he was brought in, snorting
and furious, held by three men in the Arena, he
stood erect, ferociously pawing the air, and ca
pered about in that fearful attitude as if he were
executing the war dance of the indomitable
Cherokee, and one almost expected to see
him hurl a tomahawk from his uplifted forefoot.
Presently, however, the fatal strap was adroit
ly thrown over that foot, and in a very short
time the savage was humbly on his knees, nor ’
was it long before he was obliged to beg pardon
as plainly as a horse could express himself.—
So earnest was his contrition, that Mr. Rarey
having first ascertained J>y the flaccid and flexi-’
ble state of the hind-leg muscles that the “King
of Oude" did not intend to kick, lay down be
hind him without the slightest hesitation, and
calmly pressed that dreadful hind-foot against
his own smiling and finely featured face. After
this satisfactory evidence of a mutual entente cor
diak. he untied the King of Oude’s forelegs,
carefully straightened them, and made the King
of Oude stand upon all fours, saddled and moun
ted the King of Oude, showed the King of Oude
a big drum, on which, after the animal had been
allowed to inspect it and smell it. he beat a tri
umphant peal upon the King of Oude’s back.—
The horse picked up his ears, and certainly look
ed puzzled, but had not an idea of questioning
the propriety of anything which the man who
could lay him prostrate and sit upon him might
choose to do ; and this conviction had been
wrought in the equine mind so thoroughly, but
with so much good humor and gentleness on
Mr. Rarey’s part, that he might exclaim more
appropriately than the butcher did in Hood’s
comical story of the recusant sheep, “There, I’ve
conciliated him 1" Two or three repetitions of
the treatment are, however, advisable, since
brutes, like human beings,are apt to forget what
they have learned. The celebrated Cruiser, who
was introduced to the company on Saturday, con
tinues to do credit to his instruction.
\
n>
There are fifty-nine churches in the city of
New Orleans —forty Protestant and nineteen
Roman Catholic. Os the Protestant churches,
fourteen are Methodist, nine Presbyterian, eight
Episcopal, and two Baptist Dr. Palmer s
church (Presbyterian) cost $102,000.
115