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124 LITERARY. WILLUn W. MANN, Editor. The Southern Field and Fireside IS rUBLISUID EVERY SATURDAY. TERMS—I2.OO a year, Invariably in advance. All Postmasters are authorized agents. SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 10, 1559. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS. We do not send receipts by mail for subscriptions re mitted. The receipt of The Souther!* Field and Fireside, after the money is remitted, will be evl dence to each subscriber that his money has been re ceived and his name duly entered on the mail book. 4t» back numbers. Persons subscribing to the Field and Fireside can be supplied with all the back numbers. terms to news-dealers. This paper is mailed to news-dealers at the rate of two dollars and fifty cents per one hundred copies. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. For each insertion of ten lines or less, one dollar; and for over ten lines, at the rate of ten cents per line. 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.