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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