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124
LITERARY.
WILLUn W. MANN, Editor.
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TO CORRESPONDENTS AND CONTRIBUTORS.
To Hattie Hill-mile. —We would be sorrv to have
you “ commit suicide," or do any thing else that is “ des
perate, ” but we really cannot “ set out ” your *' Rose
bush ”in our pasture. The ideas of your poem are pretty
enough, though rather trite. It is, however, the imper
fect and careless versification to which we chiefly object
The measure is sadly incomplete. Your productions
must be trimmed and polished with a great deal more
care and labor, before we can compromise your literary
reputation, or that of our paper, by giving them place in
our columns. The same remark we apply to
Creole.— Your lines entitled “ Adieu, ” possess a very
pleasing simplicity, tenderness, and truthfulness, but
they are so sadly deficient in polish, that we cannot con.
sent to publish them as sent, or to bestow upon them our
selves, the time and labor necessary to make them admis
sible. Perhaps when the happy event so hopefully fore
shadowed in the poem sent, shall take place, there will
* not be wanting to Creole the opportunity and disposition
to commemorate it in carefully prepared verses that we
will be glad to publish; and we cordially hope that in
our first number of next month, wc shall be allowed to
record it in tiro eery pretty linen of our own, in its
place, on the fifth column of the fifth page.
The article on “ Politeness, ” beginning and ending with
what purports to be a quotation from St. Paul, is declined i
and we refer our contributor to Eph. iv. 82, for the lan
guage of St Paul, to be correctly cited, if occasion to
quote it should hereafter occur. If Z>i> willwiltcanother
article more carefully, or re-write this, with severe pru
ning and emendation, he may give us something that will
entertain our readers, and adorn our columns. Wo know
that it is in him.
To Florence Lyle. —Your request has been complied
with. The communication with which you fiivored us,
has been destroyed. We are a little surprised that any
other late could have been anticipated for the article, in
view of the repeated advice we have given, that the real
nameot writers must accompany communications for our
columns, and in view, too, of repeated evidence of our de
termination not to permit considerations of gallantry, or of
personal respect, nor indeed any considerations, to prevail
over our rule. Wc must not part with our correspondent
without complimenting her French. The one or two sen
tences in that language—occurring In her last note, are
quite correct. But we must say the French is shockingly
ill treated by some of our fair correspondents.
To C. T. 8. V.—We thank our young friend, the warm
hearted “Virginia girl,” for her kind notice of the Field
and Fireside. It shall be our endeavor to mukc the
paper more and more worthy of her good opinion. If
she will give us her real name and address, we will fur
nish her privately with the information which she seeks<
and which we do not think it expedient at present to
give publicly through our columns.
To “ Periplus."— Wc thank you for your last commu
nication. The subject of it will be noticed next week.
ToJ. G.—Your tale “The Sage of Pandora,” with
drawn by you from publication, bos been disposed of as
requested in your note of the 2nd inst.
“ Tin Changed Crone."—To gratify the lady who
has kindly sent it to us, the lines entitled as above, shall
appear soon in our columns. We will, in this instance,
depart from our rule, which is, not to publish selected
poetry until there shall bo in our portfolio, a lack of
original contributions deemed worthy of insertion.
The Story which was “effectually buried” by inser
tion in a country paper, some time ago, cannot, how.
ever worthy, be resuscitated by publication in the Field
and Fireside. Wc have, as .requested, destroyed the
copy sent to us.
Have we the author's name of the article entitled “The
Passage,” by A. W. ?
W r e have received during the week the following arti
cles:
Behind the Scenes—A tale, by Pauline.
An Essay, “Charles Lamb's Suppers and Dr. Holmes'
Breakfast,” by T. (accepted.)
An Essay on Boys—by M. A. M. (accepted.)
Love Around the Fireside —by M. A. J.
Stanzas —by J. R. C.
Good bye for Annie Lee.
How Fleeting Time!—by Manrico.
My Letter—by Stella.
Music—by M. A. M.
The Sword of Wallace —by £. F. C.
Lines to Ella—by same.
The Binner's Prayer, and Answer—by same,
The articles Harry and I,
Good-bye—for Annie Lee,
My Letter—by Stella,
Are accepted, and will be published at our earliest
convenience.
The Old Oak Tree —Abounds in true and simple sen
timent, but the poem is toounartistically executed—it is
too deficient in ry thm and rhyme, for admission, as poetry
into our columns. It is therefore declined.
We hare the same remarks to make, and have come
to the same conclusion, concerning the contributions
entitled,
Thy Dreams be sweet,
The Patriot’s Song,
I'd be with thee, and
How Fleeting Time!
• The three writers of these pieces arc all young; (two of
them offering "first essays at Poetry,") and, though
they may feel slightly mortified at present, we feel quite
sure that when they get a ltttle older, they will thank us
for having refused to publish their crude, unfinished com
positions. W e predict that before our young friends
reach the age of twenty-five, they will thank ns for hav
ing refused the littltf prominence and permanence which
our columns afford, to productions which they will soon
eject from their own private portfolios, or so amend as to
make them worthy of their's and our’s.
Poeta nascitur non fit,
has been said, and truly said, but his usual vehicle,—
rythmical and rhyming language—is just as truly a thing
of art as the four wheeled buggy you ride in. It is in
this Bensc that Poetry is numbered among the Fine Arts.
It is no less true of the Painter and Sculptor, than it is
of the Poet, that he “must be bom, not made.” But, after
being “bom” they must yet labor and study, long and
much, before they can produce a great painting, sculp
ture or poem. These remarks are addressed to three
young gentlemen ; but we hope that young ladies who
propose writing for the Field and Fireside will read
and bear them in mind.
YXS&D MU XPXEY3XII&.
FROM OUR PARIS CORRESPONDENT.
Paris, Aug. 18th, 1850.
The grand military parade oflast Sunday sur
passed anything in the way of “ spectacle” that
I have ever seen in Pari*. You, my dear Editor,
remember well the entry into Paris of the troops
returned from the Crimea. The show on the
14th was in the same kind, but even more nu
merous in performers, and spectators, and more
brilliant in decoration. Anything like a detailed
description of it, would approach the Boulevards
in length and be vastly more wearisome to get
through. I will only attempt to note some of
its more striking features.
Long before the procession began to move,
the streets through which it was to pass, pre
sented a most animated appearance. The broad
side-walks were filled with an immense multi
tude of Parisians, provincials and foreigners.—
The numberof strangers in town on occasion of the
fetes has been variously estimated anywhere from
200,000 to two millions! A rough calculation,
led me to think that they were about equal to
the population of Georgia, as given by the last
census. Lest you imagine me too imaginative, I
offer you the elements of my calculation: From
the Bastille to the Place Vendome, is a distance
of almost three miles; the average width of the
sidewalks throughout the distance is thirty feet
—which furnishes a standing place six miles
long by thirty feet wide; now this place was full
as a sausage. The curb-stone was planted with
a live hedge of soldiers of the line, on one side,
and of the national guard on the other —flower-
ing out a top with boquets in the muzzles, or on
the bayonets of the guns.
Above and behind these, every window and
balcony of the five story houses, tastefully hung
with velvet and decorated with wreaths and va
rious devices, was filled with spectators in holi
day dress, like the tiers of an enormous theatre;
and still above them, on the roof and the very
chimney tops, were other thousands. After
moving for a while among the multitude in the
parterre, admiring their general good order and
good nature, and stoutness of heart, unsickened
by hope long deferred—for many of these peo
ple had been on the ground for hours, and some
had even secured their places on the benches,
distributed along the public walk, by taking
them during the night—l reached my own seat
in the dress circle, that is, at the window of a
friend’s room on Boulevrrd des Italiens. The
street below was smooth and clean swept, and
sprinkled like a stage floor before the ballet
comes on, and empty of everything except here
and there a passing “supe” in the shape of an
officer, and his caparisoned horse. At last
there came to our ears a distant surf-like mur
mur swelling, nearer aud nearer, forming the
deep bass to the high notes of the trumpets and
cymbals of the magnificent Centgardes whose
glittering casques and helmets and gorgeous
uniforms now soon filled the front scene, leading
the way for the author and first actor in the
show-piece of tho day, Napoleon 111. He was
mounted on a noble English bay, (you know
how well he sits a horse,) impassible and in
scrutable as usual, excepting that his complex
ion had caught a little darker hue from the Ital
ian sun, and that he has grown a little stouter
on palace fare these late years, looking no whit
changed from that Prince President whose face
we used to watch ten years ago in the vain at
tempt to “ make something out of it.*’ lie was
followed, not surrounded, by a large aud bril
liant stall', in striking contrast to whose uniforms,
rich with plumes and gold and varied colors,
and prancing steeds, succeeded tho black shovel
hats and long skirted cassocks of three Almo
ners, (army chaplains, as we should say,)
whose higher than military courage is fighting
their good fight, amid the rushing death and
danger of hottest battles, as well as in crowded
hospitals, was fully recognized by tho crowd of
on-lookers. A Frenchman rarely sinks so low
in scepticism as not to hold a lively faith in cour
age of any sort —that is, of demonstrated cour
age. In fit sequence to these holy men came
such of the wounded as were sufficiently recov
ered to walk. Here the real sympathetic ap
plause broke out in shouts, and the waving of
handkerchiefs and the casting down of wreaths
and flowers. Not that the shouting was louder
than at other moments, for it is choked queerly
enough sometimes in strongrmen’s throats, and
very often tho waving handkerchiefs were sud
denly called to do service to fair ladies’ eyes.—
Either compliment was equally acknowledged by
its objects as they moved along. One young
lieutenant, with botli arms bandaged and in a
sling, was much observed, gravely bowing his
acknowledgment of these tributes ; when an
old invalide of the first imperial wars rushed for
ward and, picking up a wreath that had been
thrown at the poor fellow’s feet, placed it on his
head, the fair mixture of real sentiment and
scenic effect delighted the quick French sense,
lor such things created profound emotion.
After the wounded marched, in regular order,
the 70,000 representatives of the army of Italy,
in four divisions, through the finest street of the
gayest city of the world—so gaily garnished as
it never was before,’ with flags and streamers,
and Venetian masts, and triumphal arches, and
triumphal columns, and a triumphant multitude,
whose ever roaring throats seemed lined with
brass that day, dressed in their gayest attire, and
enjoying, as only Frenchmen and women can
enjoy for four mortal hours, a grand, military, pa
triotic “ spectacle gratis." For few in the excite
ment of the moment thought of counting the
fearful expenses necessary to the getting up of
such a performance,—unless it might be hotel
keepers ; case and restaurant keepers; hack,
balcony, and window owners; holders of mar
ket stalls, flower stalls and railroad shares ;
butchers, bakers and cooks; decorators, vint
ners, beggars and sharpers, and any other class
es who must profit by the enormous influx of
strangers into Paris—say in all, and in round
numbers, half a million.
Even to a cool foreigner, like your correspon
dent, the show, though growing tedious after an
hour or two, was highly interesting. To see the
rusty uniforms and bronzed faces of those very
men whose victorious march and deeds of valor
were filling all the world’s thoughts a few weeks
ago, and raising hopes too high that now, with
many, are sunk perhaps too low—to see the very
men who had fought bravely, and suffered calm
ly (it does not matter much for what cause, so
they were brave and enduring,) does excite in us
emotions of admiration and sympathy, quite in
dependent on our opinions, and which, just be
cause they are universal, we are, I suspect, not
to be ashamed of. So I could appreciate and
partially share in the enthusiasm expressed by
the crowd, when a flag torn all to honorable rags
was borne proudly past, and followed by a regi
ment whose thinned ranks showed how boldly
it had been carried into the enemy's fire, and
how bravely it had been defended there —or
when one of the new made marshals or other
captain whose recent valor is fresh in all memo
ries, rode past, saluting with easy French grace
his applauding public on either side —or when
the patriotic shout rose loudest at sight of the
Austrian flags, and the long train of Austrian
artillery. With the famous Zouave, as brave as
lions, undoubtedly, but about whom is gathered
m some imaginations an undue share of the
“Romance of War” —and with the half savage
Turcos and their strange features and picturesque
costtinTes —or rather with the multitude s ad
miration of them, I took less part. These latter
have what is styled at the theatre, “a great suc
cess of curiosity”—had their countenances been
of a bright green, it would have been still great
er : Omne ignotum pro mirifico.
It was pleasant, and sometimes touching, to
watch a scene that was frequently repeated du
ring the day, when a lame soldier in the pro
cession was recognized, or recognized a civil or
military friend on the side walk; then there was
a rushing out of the ranks, and such a hearty
shaking of hands and hugging and kissing,
through thick moustache, as was good to look
upon, and to set vagabond travelers and “ corres
pondents ” a thinking on old friends at home. —
Any who fancies kissing to be an unmannerly
mode of friendly greeting, merely because it is
not practised in his district, should bear in mind
that such osculation was exchanged between
men who took the heights of Cavriana, and men
who took the Malakoff.
Pleasant it was too, to tsee the Vivandieres
and Cautinieres, (ugly as sin, for the most part,
on close inspection) in their jaunty, opera-com
ique costume. Brave women they, and noble
service and dangerous do they do. You re
member that one at Solferino to whom a thirsty
officer offered money for a glass of brandv: “ Not
a drop for a hundred francs, Captain! ” The
next moment a muske'. ball shattered his arm,
and he fell, and the weman kneeled and held up
his head, and gave bin. to drink —“ for it is only
for the wounded, Cap ain!”
And pleasant agair, to see the four-footed
heroes returning from the war, and receiving,
too, their applausive part of the oration. Vive le
chevre! Vive le chevre! cried the people, as a
stately goat marched gravely along by the side
of the Captain of the eleventh Chasseurs. One
dog, limping a little, who belonged to tho
Zouaves, bore a wreath about his neck, and
another, who had madt the campaign, was trick
ed off with red housing? and flowers, and a min
iature flag, to the great intertainment of behold
ers.
The grand tableau of:he performance was at
the Place Yendome. Seats rising in amphi
theatre about the placeto the height of the first
story of the surrounding houses, draped with
red velvet, and occupied by about 20,000 per
sons; the windows of tie encompassing edifices,
whose fine and uniform architecture happily aid
ed the effect, draped also with crimson velvet,
set off with devices in gßen and gold, and filled
with spectators; much'- other rich and tasteful
decoration of wreath and garlands, and scutch
eons and masts in crimson and green and gold;
all this made of it an inmense, theatre not un
like the antique circus. Here the Emperor and
his staff took their stand and through tho arena
the army passed in reliew before him. The
Great First Napoleon locking down from his tri
umphal column; the Enpress, and the little Na
poleon IY. that is to be, if fate prove kind, look
ing on from the court trbune erected opposite,
they too triumphant; a t-iumpkant army pass
ing with their trophies of victory won under his
generalship—earth shaken with their tread, and
sky rent with their acclaims; —he alone, in this
culminating hour of triumph, sat there impassi
ble, inscrutable. Excepting occasional greet
ings, that seemed to show a real respect to some
of the distinguished generals in the late war,
and to tho wounded lieutenant of whom I spoke
above, he hardly moved, more than tho bronze
image of his uncle above him. There was one
other exception, when the little Prince Imperial
who “ assisted ”in tho uniform of a grenadier,
descended from the tribune in charge of an ecuy
er, and was taken to his father who kissed their
child, and seated him on his saddle for a mo
ment, while the mother bent forward, proud and
glad, toward the group. Then broke forth the
loudest acclamations that vexed the air that day.
In tho evening, there was a banquet given to
the superior officers of the army in the new
Louvre; whereat his Majesty made a speech,
which you will doubtless print in full, and made
the first distribution of the new military medal
(the third special honorable token created for
the army within the brief seven years, since the
birth of the “Empire, which,” the world was told
by its parent, “ is Peace”) that is to be given to
every soldier and sailor engaged in the Italian
Campaign.
I omit any report of the fete of the 15th of
August, which was as brilliant as usual, but
somewhat paled in comparison before the splen
dors of the one I have been vainly trying to de
scribe.
There have been more than the customary
promotions and creations in the Legion of Honor,
moro than fourteen hundred in all, the army as
usual receiving the lion’s share of the varied
decorations. There have also the customary
annual pardons and commutations, issued in
favor of criminals and offenders, by imperial
grace. Better than generosity and grace, is the
justice, welcome though tardy, of a complete
amnesty accorded to all persons condemned for
political crimes or offenses. This amnesty is
without reserve or qualification and reaches all
political prisoners and exiles, no matter under
what government or law or at what date their
suffering began. You know how many differ
ent categories of sufferers, from open fighters on
the barricade of June, 1848, to the “suspected of
being suspect ” of January 1858, from Barbes to
Victor Hugo—such broad amnesty calls home.
The Emperor and Empress left Paris last
evening for the Springs at St. Sauveur in the
Pyrenees. I have no space left for the news
from Italy, which aro full of interest; the
Italians of ,tlie duchies are conducting them
selves singularly welL They are likely to have
time for quite a fair trial of their capacity for self
government, if the outward prepare is to be ap
plied only at the close of the conference Zurich.
Nothing is authoritatively known of what its
members have done; but there are strong signs
justifying the belief that they have done the first
part of the work they went there to do. They
cannot agree on the point on which they can
agree to disagree. It is doubtful even whether,
beyond their first assemblage to verify each oth
ers power’s and exchange,they have yet held an
official session.
The late Grand Dfike of Tuscany has been
and perhaps still is in Paris, incognito. He had
a reception, friendly of course, from the Empe
ror, two days ago. Notwithstanding the friend
liness, I hopefully incline to think that he will
remain the late Grand Duke, if not the last of
Tuscany.
Cardinal Antonelli has ceased to be President
of the Council of State, but remains at the head
of his more important office of first minister in
the Roman cabinet.
The Secretary of the Navy has ordered that
in future no vessels belonging to the African
squadron are to touch at Madeira, as it has been
found that the stay at this agreeable resort in
terferes with the efficiency of the squadron.
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
NAPOLEON’S PROPHECY.
BY W. GILMORE SIMMS?
The recent publication of Dr. Faber, which
would prove Louis Napoleon to be the Last Horn
of the Beast in Revolutions, recalls to us some of
the prophecies of the great Napoleon, which may
have their interest in tho present, and reminds
me of the use that I, myself, made of them in
1830. It is said by Dr. O’Meara, in his “ Voice
from St. Helena," that Napoleon conversed fre
quently upon the probability of another Revolu
tion in France.
“ ‘ Ere twenty years have elapsed,’ ” said he,
1 when I Jam dead and buried, you will witness
another Revolution in France. It is impossible
that twenty nine-millions of Frenchmen can live
contented under the yoke of sovereigns imposed
upon them by foreigners, and against whom they
have fought and bled for nearly thirty years!—
Can you blame the French for not being willing
to submit to the yoke of such animals ?’ ”
Napoleon died at St. Helena, on the sth of
May, 1821.
In July, 1830, the Revolution followed, which,
throwing off the yoke of one branch of the Bour
bons, substituted for it the sway of another,
which, while much more subtle and sagacious,
seems to have been, in certain respects, not less
reckless.
The demonstration was made, the change ef
fected, niHcli within the time predicted by Na
poleon. But this revolution was not unfait ac
compli. More was yet to be done. The fruit,
perhaps, was not quite ripe. Tho people not su
preme, aud they had to accept a qualified atone
ment from the ruling classes. The Revolution
was a fact only partial in its success. Then
came that of 1848, which in all probability has
relieved France forever from Bourbon domina
tion.
[ I said then : “ Whether the Revolution of
1848 will place France in the condition which,
popularly, she is disposed to desire, or which is
desirable for her, —may depend upon two things
—the limitation of the right of suffrage, and tho
advent of some great man, equally wise and cour
ageous, who is capablo of rising to the emer
gencies of her condition.”]
At all events the prophecy of the First Napo
leon, as to the mere fact of the Revolution, —as
to the unwillingness of the French to enduro
the domination of the Bourbons, —has been ac
complished, and will justify the verses witli
which I conclude this article, and which were
written in 1830.
The events since 1848 belong to recent his
tory, and are familiar to all readers. Wo have
seen other Revolutions. We see another Napo
leon ruler over France; but the end is not yet,
and though we feel half inclined to prophecy still
farther, it does not belong to our present object.
The first Napoleon might safely predict other
Revolutions in France, and without seeing that
a third Napoleon would rise to precipitate, if not
to perfect them. Is he the great man, equally
wise and conrageous, who is equal to the emer
gency ? Nous verrons. We have something far
ther in respect to Mon Oncle.
Las Casas, in his ‘Journal,' has something
even more significant than the passage in O'Mea
ra. The paragraph which we now quote has been
suppressed in both the French and English edi
tions of the work —as offensive to Royalty! Ah!
ahem l One would suppose that stones had stom
achs for any digestion. #
Las Casas says:
“ l ln less than fifteen years,’ said the Empe
ror Napoleon to me one day, as we stood view
ing the sea from a rock which overhangs the
road, —‘ the whole European system will be
changed. Revolution will succeed to Revolu
tion, until every nation becomes acquainted with
its individual rights. Depend upon it, the peo
ple of Europe will not long submit to be govern
ed by this band of petty sovereigns—these aris
tocratic cabinets! I was wrong in re-establisli
ing the order of Nobles in France. But I did it
to give splendor to the throne, and refinement
to the manner of the people who were fast sink
ing into barbarism since the Revolution. Tho
remains of the feudal system must vanish be
fore the sun of knowledge! Tho people have
only to know that all power emanates from them
selves, in order to assert a right to a share in
their respective governments. This will bo the
case even with the Boors of Russia. Yes, Las
Casas, you may live to see the time, but I shall
be cold in my grave, when that colossal and ill ce
mented Empire will he split into as many Sover
eignties, perhaps Republics, as there are hordes or
tribes which compose it."
Still, Nous [verrons !—This remains to be ac
complished ! We have certainly had European
Revolutions without number, since the date of
the prediction—since 1821. How many? who
shall compute! and this end is not yet I A long
war, which all this despotism of Europe fear, will
probably accomplish all these prophecies!
It is not my purpose to say anything touching
the bloody conflicts of the last few weeks in Italy,
which have shed so much blood, spread so much
ruin, and accomplished nothing for human free
dom, security and peace;—and of the unexpect
ed peace, (Qu.?) which leave all the parties con
cerned more doubtful, more hating and hateful
to each other than before! No portion of the
thinking world ever had the least idea that Lou
is Napoleon really meant to do anything for
Italian liberty—any thing for liberty at all, any
where! Hundreds of thousands have perished
—rivers of blood been shed —millions of money
profligately wasted, and all in vain! The
struggle has only led to the confirmation, or in
crease of power, to despotism, and to the strength
ening of the armed tyrannies—the standing ar
mies themselves, —which constitute the terrible
power under which the people quail and perish,
and by which the despots, most audacious and
reckless, perpetuate their existence ! There is
no hopo for popular liberty any where in Europe
so long as standing armies are maintained.
[But I must not make my preface too long for
my poem. lam afraid that I have already
done so. It is a fearful disproportion between
them!
The verses which follow were written in 1830,
and after the perusal of the passages quoted
from O’Meara and Las Casas. They contem
plate the language of the first Napoleon only.]
PROPHECY OF NAPOLEON.
. L
And deem'st thou that France In hor.worm, sunny val
ues,
And her people so gallant in ]>cace and in war,
Will slumber supinely when Liberty rallies,
And waves her bright ensign in triumph afar ?
Content in her bonds, and unconscious of glory,
Untroubled by shame, and unfit to be free,
Shall the people, already immortal in story,
To the tyrants they’ve fought with so long, bend the
knee 1
11.
Believe it not, stranger, though now they dissemble,
Since weakened in fight, and by fraud overthrown —
They will rise in their might, and the tyrants shall trem
ble,
Whom, for thirty long years, they have fought with
alone I '
Then who shall resist the wild strength of that power,
When her millions ot freemen in might shall advance,
With one spirit imbued at the same glorious hour,
To strike for the fame and the freedom of France f
111.
Believe not that long 'ncath the shroud of dishonor,
Her national spirit shall sleep in its shame ;
Already the Day-star is bursting upon her,
And guiding her feet bark to glory and fame 1
No spot on her shield, and no stain on her story,
No bonds on her limbs, and no fear on her.brow,
Through the mists of the future,! see her in glory,
As bright anil as perfect as though it were now.
IV.
She will blush for her shame! She will rise in the honor.
The wrath and the power of her freedom alike,
And dearly the despot shall pay for his error,
And truly and terribly, Liberty strike 1
No voice shall rebuke them—no Bower subdue them ;
No folly mislead them; but, firm as the shore,
And strong as the billows, the nations shall view them.
Asserting their freedom, and asking no more 1
NEW BOOKS.
(From the Saturday Prise Book-List.)
Travels in Greece and Russia, with an Excursion to
Crete. By Bayard Taylor. New York: G. P. Putnam.
Fiji and the Fijians. By Thomas Williams and James
Calvert, late Missionaries in Fiji. Edited by George
Stringer Rowe. Illustrated with maps, colored engra
vings, and woodcuts.
Wee Wee Songs, for Our Little Pets. By Leila Lee.
New York: Blakeman & Mason.
History of Middle Tennessee; or, Life and Times of
General James Robertson. By A. W. Putnam, Esq.,
President of the Tennessee Historical Society, New
York: C. B. Richardson.
Life of Jonathan Trumbull, Sen., the Revolutionary
Governor of Connecticut By I. W. Stewart Boston:
Crocker & Brewster.
The Dred Scott Decision. Opinion of Chief Justice
Roger B. Taney. With an Introduction by Dr. J. 11.
Evrie. Also an Appendix by Samuel A. Cartwright, M.
D., of New Orleans, entitled “Natural History of the
Prognathous Race of Mankind.” New York: Van Evrie,
Horton & Co.
The Game of Base Ball. Rules and Regulations of the
National Association of Base New Y»rk:
Hendrickson, Blake & Long.
The Character and Portraits of Washington. B. H. T.
Tuckcnnan. Illustrated with all the prominent Portraits,
Proofs on Indian Paper.
A Manual of Naval Tactics; together with a Brief
Critical Analysis of the Principal Modem Naval Battles.
By James 11. Ward, Commander U. S. N., author of
“ Ordnance and Gunnery," and “ Steam for the Million. ”
With an Appendix, being an Extract from Sir Howard
Douglas’“Naval Warfare with Steam.” New York:
D. Appleton & Co.
Cattle and their Diseases. By Dr. George H. Dadd,
V. S., author of “Modem Horse Doctor. ” Boston: Jno.
P. Jewett & Co.
Miss Leslie’s Behavior Book; a Guide and Manual for
Ladies, as regards their Conversation, Manners, etc, etc.
By Miss Eliza Leslie, authoress of “Miss Leslie's Cele
brated New Cookery Book.” Philadelphia: T.B.Peter
son A Brother.
Breakfast, Dinner, and Tea, viewed Classically, Poet
ically. and Principally; containing numerous curious
dishes and feasts, of all times and countries, beside three
hundred modern receipts. New York: D. Appleton & Co.
Wiiat are Consols? —A rise or fall in “Con
sols’’ is invariably taken as a sign of commercial
prosperity ®r adversity, yet few have a very de
finite idea of what is meant by “ Consols.” We
find in the Boston Iltrald the following expla
nation of the term:
The national debt of England began with the
relinquishment of the old custom of extorting
from the people, and substituting borrowing there
for, to meet public exigencies. Charles I. bor
rowed from his partisans ; but all his debts
were extinguished by the Revolution. It was
under his sons, Charles 11. and James 11. (1660
-1689) that the foundations of a permanent
debt were laid in England. On the accession
of William 111, (1689) the debt was £664,263.
During his reign, however, the system of credit
was expanded throughout Europe. A large
part of the annual expenditure of the govern
ment was defrayed by borrowing money and
pledging the State to pay annual interest upon it.
At William’s death, (1702) the debt was £15,-
730,439. From his time to the present, the pro
cess of borrowing has been continued in all exi
gencies, such as war, the large payment on ac
count of Negro Emancipation, &c. In periods
of peace, and when the rate of interest has been
low, the Government has redeemed small por
tions o ( ’ the debt, or it has lowered the annual
charge by reducing, with the consent of the
holders, the rate of interest.
The debt* then, consists of several species of
loans or funds , with different denominations,
which have been, in process of time, variously
mixed and mingled, such as Consols; i. e, seve
ral different loans consolidated in one stock, 3 per
cent. Reduced Consols, New 3 per cents, &c.—
The public debt continued to increase, until at
the accession of George I. (in 1714,) it was £54,-
145,363. Some two million was paid off during
this reign, but during that of his successor it
was greatly increased, so that, in 1763, it had
reached the sum of £138,865,430. During the
peace from 1763 to 1775, ten millions were paid,
but at the conclusion of the American Revolu
tion it was £249,851,628. In the peace which
ensued from 1784 to 1793, ten and a half mil
lions were paid. Then came the great moral
and political revolution of Europe, in the course
of which England caused coalition after coali
tion to be formed, spent money freely to subsi
dize her continental allies against France. Du
ring this career she contracted an increase of
debt exceeding six hundred million sterling, so
that, at the close of the war and when ttie En
glish and Irish Exchequers were consolidated,
the total funded and unfunded debt, in 1817,
was and the annual charge upon
it was £32,015,941.
From that time to 1854 there was a continual
reduction of debt. On the Ist of April, 1854, it
was £768,664,249. But then came the Cri
mean war, and afterwards the’ war in India.—
Immediately following these came the necessity
for increased expenses in placing the navy and
army in preparation for a general European
war. The Crimean and Indian wars have in
creased the debt more than all the reductions
which were made during forty years, and to-day
it cannot be less than £850,000,000.
This vast sum, reduced to our own currency,
is four thousand two hundred and fifty millions
of dollars, ($4,250,000,000) most of which is
Consols, bearing interest at three per cent.
The ordinary price of three per cents is 95, be
cause people investing at such a low rate, will
not pay par when money is worth a higher per
centage. Tfao last news is, that Consols had
fallen to 89a90. This fall is equal to two years
interest, on four thousand millions dollars.
If holders were obliged to sell now, the aggre
gate loss would be $240,000,000. As it is, only
those who havo money engagements and must
sell out to meet them, will be losers. Already
wo hear of the failure of forty stock brokers of
this class, and others will follow unless Consols
improve.
Aces of Illustrious Generals. —When
Alexander the Great fought his first pitched
battle at the Granicus he was 22 years old; Na
poleon I. was 27 at the battle of Lodi; Freder
ick the Great was 29 at the battle of Molnitz ;
and Hannibal was 28 when he defeated the Ro
mans in his first pitched battle at the Trebbia.
On the other hand C.esar was engaged alto
gether in political and civil life till he was 41
years of age, and in the next year at 42, he won
his first pitched battle against the Helvetii.—
Turenne was also 42 before he was commander
in-chief, or manoeuvred or fought a pitched bat
tle, which he then did at Arras against the
Prince de Conde; and Marlborough’s firs t
pitched battle was fought at Blenheim, when he
was 54 years old.