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132
LITERARY.
VILLIA!II W. IWANN, Editor.
The Southern Field and Fireside
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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.
——♦ *» — l^—
TO CORRESPONDENTS AND CONTRIBUTORS.
"We sincerely regret that in announcing last
week the articles received, we neglected to com
ply with the request of one of our contributors
relative to the form of announcement. The error
was not observed until it was too late to correct
it
A young friend, who makes inquiry concerning
the fate of two Novelettes, and who has exhibit
ed a “patience” so very exemplary with re
spect to them, shall not be tried much longer.
We have received during the week:
Two Sketches, by S. C. S. ;
Carl Stanhope, or the Remembrance;
The Hours of Darkness, by a Young Observer;
An article on Quakers, by A. S. ;
The Song of the Cotton Plant, by M. M.;
Lines to the Memory of M. V. L.;
The Mother's Jewels, by Bessie B.;
The Last Kiss, by Guyon;
Sonnet to Poesy, by same ;
Ada, by Claris.
We must decline publishing the lecture ad
dressed to “ Mrs. Mildew,” fcir the benefit of
“ Mrs. Jessamy,” as having a too direct person
al bearing. Our columns are open, wide as you
please, to wit, ridicule, and sarcasm, or to plain,
homospun, sensible talk, lashing Yicc and Folly
in such general terms that the many may make
individual application to themselves, as they
read, but the Field and Fireside shall not be
come the vehicle of anonymous personal attacks.
A contrary course might render our journal more
piquant, but we do not covet popularity of that
sort, and will not cater for the gossip-and-scan
dal-loving tastes of the community.
We respectfully decline, also, the following ar
ticles;
Lines to Sister Hemans;
A Mother’s Love;
The Rocking Stone of Oglethorpe County;
Things as they Occur in Life;
The Deer Hunt, by Novus;
My Bonny Bay and I;
Lines on the Birth of C. L. A,;
Lines to a Young Lady at Church.
If we knew the name of the author, we would
like to publish a poem entitled “Childhood's
Home,” sent to us ns original, from Brookhaven,
Miss., in June last.
——»► t «>
NEW BOOKS.
[We publish, weekly, under this head, a list of neie
publications, carefully selected from all our exchanges.
The list embraces all works, Foreign as well as Domes
tic, which we think may be valuable, or to which cir
cumstances may give general or special interest, wheth
er Literary or Scientific, llistory or Fiction, Prose or
Poetry, Religious. Moral or Political. The notice simply
gives the title of the book, name of the author, place of
publication, and name of Publisher.]
The Crucifixion of Christ—By Daniel 11. Ilill, Super
intendent of the North Carolina Military Institnte, and
late Brevet Major in the United States Army. Philadel
phia: William S. Alfred Martien.
The Development of Prophecy—The Eleventh Chap
ter of Daniel; a Prophecy relating to the King of the
North and the King of the South, detailing the Contests
between Rome and the Church. By a Layman. Phila
delphia : Lindsey & Blakiston.
My Third Book—A collection of Talcs; by Louise
Chandler Moulton, author of “ This, That and the Oth
er,” and “Juno Clifford.” New York: Harper and
Brothers.
The Italian WarlS4S-9, and the Last Italian Poet.—
Three Essays ; by the late Henry Lushington, Chief Sec
retary to the Government of Malta. With a Biographi
cal Preface by George Stoviu Venables. London : Mac
millan & Co.
The Shot Gun and-Sporting Rifle. With full descrip
tions of the Dogs, Ponies, Ferrets, eta, used in the va
rious kinds of Shooting. Illustrated with numerous en
gravings finely printed. By “ Stone Benge.” London :
Koutledge.
A Wile's Home Duties; containing hints to inexpe
rienced Housekeepers. London: Bell & Daldy.
Proverbs of All Nations, Compared, Explained, and
Hlustrated. By Walter K. Kelley, formerly editor of
the “Foreign Quarterly Review.” London : W. Kent &
Co.
Kenridge Hall, and other Poems, by Leander .Clark. —
Washington City : F. Phillip.
The Great Tribulation coming on the Earth. By Dr.
Cummins, author of “ Apocalyptic Sketches,” eta Lon
don : Richard Bentley.
Preachers and Preaching in Ancient and Modern
Times; including Sketches of Robert Hall. Newman
Chalmers, Irving. Melvtll. Dale. Spurgeon, Bellew, Cum
mlng, Wilinott. By the Rev. 11. Christmas. London :
Bohn.
Christian Duties and Cautions, Relating to the Holy
Estate of Matrimony. By William Coe, Jr. London :
Hall.
The Roman or Turkish Bath, its Hygienic and Cura
tive Properties. By William Potter. London: Simp
kin.
An account of the Life, Opinions, and Writings of Jno.
Milton; with an Introduction to Paradise Lost By
Thomas Keightly. London: Chapman & Hall.
Wool and Woolen Manufactures of Great Britain. A
Historical Sketch of Rise, Progress, and Present Posi
tion. By Samuel Brothers. Containing a complete ac
count of the manufacture and trade from the earliest
period, with full statistics. London : Piper, Stephenson
<fc Spence. ‘
The Shakspeare Fabrications; or, The MS. Notes of
the Perkins folio shown to be of recent origin ; with an
Appendix on the Authorship of the Ireland Sorceries.
London: J. R. Smith.
Thepneustia. The Bible ; Its Divine Origin and In
spiration ; deduced from Internal evidence and the tes
timonies of Nature, History and Science. By L. Gaus
sen,D. D., Professor of Systematic Theology, Oratoire,
Geneva. Cincinnati : G. S. Blanchard.
Family Prayers, and Prayers on the Ten Command
ments ; to which is added a Family Commentary upon
the Sennon on the Mount By Henry Thornton, M. P.
by Bishop Eastburn. New York : Sheldon A Co.
nylvia's World and Crimes which the Law does not
reach. By Sue Petigru King, authorof “ Busy Moments
A liu , kAoo. WOman ’” "*-By, eto - New York: Derby
*® ola - By Augusta .1. Evans (Mobile Ala.)
Smooth Stones from Ancient Brooks. By the Rev. C.
H. Spurgeon.
XBR SOtnmRRN 3RB&S AEB FXASSSAS.
A REMARK A RLE LITERARY COINCIDENCE-
We received, early in August last, a commu
nication from Montgomery, Ala., purporting to
be an original contribution for our columns, en
titled “Thoughts of Death.” It came to us
from a resident of that city, who had previously
placed in our hands a novelette for publication in
the Southern Field and Fireside. The arti
cle, “ Thoughts of Death,” was accepted by us,
and may be found in our number of 20th August,
page 100, column 4, with tne initials and address
of the writer attached. At the bottom of the
article as received by us, was a short note,
signed by the writer, of the following purport:
“The above thoughts were suggested by
“many similar words, of the same strain, that
“ fell from the lips of one that now lives only in
“ memory—a victim to consumption. They are
“at your disposal. Yours, &c., J. G.
“ Montgomery.”
Very soon after the appearance of the article,
we received, from an unknown correspondent, a
letter, of which the following is an extract:
“In No. 13 of your paper is an article entitled
‘ Thoughts of Death,’ by ‘ J. G.,’ which, I assure
you, was written partly by G. D. Prentice, for
Graham's Magazine of July, 1851. Mr. Prentice
gave name to his production, ‘ The Consumptive’s
Reply,’ written in answer to one, also by him
self 'To a Cousin Dying of Consumption,’ in
that magazine of June of the same year.—
You’ll discover that, by a series of skips and
jumps, ‘J. G.’ has managed to get half of his
‘ Thoughts ’ from ‘ The Consumptive's Reply.’ ”
We wrote to J. G., stating the grave charge
laid at his door, and requesting an explanation;
and in the mean time we procured a copy of the
poem of Prentice, that we might compare and
judge for ourselves. There is certainly a re
markable resemblance between the two produc
tions. They are “as like as two peas.” Per
haps our readers would like to see. All who
have read once, would bo pleased to re-read a
part of the poem of Prentice; and our correspon
dent of Montgomery—though he modestly re
frains from expressing his desire to see it—will,
doubtless, bo gratified and amazed to find with
what curious closeness in thought and expres
sion, his own muse is akin to that of the illus
trious Kentuckian. We had intended to place
the pieces side by side in parallel columns, but
beinfe advised by our foreman that this cannot
be conveniently done, we must publish them,
one immediately under the other. We give first
the poem of Mr. Prentice, hoping that J. G. will
not demur to this precedence, which we accord
solely to age—Mr. P.’s poem being already in
its ninth year, while J. G.’s, by the paternal
record which we cite below, is but a bantling of
eight months, unable as yet “to go alone.”—
We ought, perhaps, to add, in this connection,
that we really do not think that, of the extracts
now reprinted from the two poems, Mr. P.’s is
at all better than J. G.’s. In fact, there is hard
ly an iota's difference between them. We do?
perhaps, slightly prefer the poetic form which
Mr. P. has given to his.
From Graham's Magazine for July.
THE CONSUMPTIVE'S REPLY.
Yes, dear one, I am dying. Hope at times
Has whispered to me in her syren tones,
But now, alas 1 I feel the tide of life
Fust ebbing from my heart I know that soon
The green and flowery curtain of the grave
Will close as softly round my fading form
As the calm jhadowsof the evening hour
Close o'er the fading stream.
Oh ! there are times
When my heart's tears gush wildly at the thought
That, in the fresh, young morning-tide of life,
I must resign my breath. To me the earth
Is very beautiful. I love its flowers.
Its birds, its dews, its rainbows, its glad streams,
Its vales, its mountains, its green waving woods,
Its moonlight clouds, its sunsets, and its soft
And dewy twilights ; and I needs must mourn
To think that I shall pass away, away,
And see them nevermore.
*****
Weak and low
My pulse of life is fluttering at my heart,
And soon 'twill cease forever. These faint words
Are the last echoes of the spirit's chords
Stirffd by the breath of memory. Bear me, love,
I prey thee, to yon open window now,
That I may look once more on nature's face
And listen to her gentle music tone,
Her holy voice of love. How beautiful,
How very beautiful, are the earth and sea
And the o'crarching sky, to one whose eyes
Are soon to close upon the scenes of time 1
- *****
I ne'er before
Beheld the earth so green, the sky so blue,
The sunset and the star of eve so bright,
And soft, and beautiful; I never felt
The dewy twilight breeze so calm and fresh
Upon my cheek and brow ; I never heard
The melodies of wind, and bird, and wave.
Fall with such sweetness on the ear. I know
That Heaven is full of glory, but a God
Os love and mercy will forgive the tears
Wrung from the fountain of my frail young heart,
By the Bad thought of jMirting with the bright
And lovely things of earth.
* * * * *
G. D. P.
"We now give a portion, about the first half, of
the article of “ J. G."—the latter portion being
omitted because the interesting literary coinci
dence in question suddenly ceased with the
extracts given.
[Written for the Field and Fireside.]
THOUGHTS OF DEATH.*
Yes, dear one, lam dying. Hope, at times, has whis
pered to me in her syren tones, but now, alas ! I feel the
tide of life fast ebbing from my heart, and I know that
the green and flowery curtain of the grave will soon close
as softly round my fading form as the odd shadows of
the evening hours close over the fading stream. Oh I
there are times when mv heart's tears gush wildly at the
thought that, in the fresn noontide of life. I must resign
ray breath. To me, earth is very beautiful. I love its
flowers, its birds, its dews, its rainbows, its glad streams,
its vales, its mountains, its green waving woods, its
moon-light clouds, its sunsets, and its soft and dewy twi
lights; and I needs must mourn to think that I shall so
soon pass away and see them no more.
Weak and low the pulse of life is fluttering at my
heart, and soon it will cease forever. These faint words
are the last echoes of the spirit's chords, stirred by the
breath of memory. Bear me, I pray thee, to yonder open
window, that I may look once more"on Nature's face, and
listen to hergentle music tones, her holy voice of love.
How beautiful, how very beautiful, are earth, and sea,
and the o'erarching sky to one whose eyes are soon to
close ui>on the scenes of time 1 I never before beheld
the earth so green, the sky so bine, the sunset and the
stars so bright, and soft, and bcautlftil. I never felt the
dewy twilight breeze so calm and fresh up>n my ebeek;
and I pever heard melodies of wind, and bird, and wave,
fall with such sweetness on the ear. I know that Hea
ven is full of glory, but a God of Love will forgive the
tears wrung from the fountain of my frail voting heart,
at the sad thought of parting with the bright and lovely
things of earth.
* We have restored in this reprint, four or five words
which were in the MS. of J. G., but for which we had
substituted others, thinking, thereby, in our editorial dis
cretion, to Improve the style. The words restored are
all found In the poem of Mr. Prentice. —Ed.
"VYe have now to present to our readers the
astonishing proof that the above extracts are
really and lona fide a “ remarkable literary
coincidence,” as intimated at the head of this
article, and not anything else.
We received very promptly from Montgomery
an answer to our letter asking an explanation,
and make from it the following extract which,
while it may disperse the doubts of our readers,
must make them marvel all the more. The let
ter is addressed to the Kditor ; it says:
‘•Your letter of the 27th ult was received
yesterday, and while the matter referred to
might be considered as highly complimentary to
me, to have entertained and expressed thoughts
similar to those of such a distinguished literary
character as Geo. D. Prentice —still I have great
cause to regret the fate of the article sent you.
The poem of which your correspondent speaks,
I have never seen —never heard of until I saw
reference made to it in your letter.
‘■The article sent you was not in its original
'shape. It was first penned in December of last
year, and [Here we omit a line of the let
ter, in whick reference is made to persons to
whom we have no right to make allusion in
print] “Subsequently I revised it, and ex
tended it to a considerable length; but as I
did not wish to impose upon your columns by
giving the article entire—it being too personal
in some respects—l abridged and selected from
the two, what I regarded sufficient to render the
theme acceptable to tlie general reader.
—Here we leave this matter; advising “J.
G.,” who is moro interested, and perhaps cares
more about it than anybody else, to send an ac
count of this “ coincidence ” for insertion in the
next edition of Disraeli’s “ Curiosities of Litera
ture.”
- ———
FROM OUR PARIS CORRESPONDENT.
Paris, Aug. 25th, 1859.
People are not yei done with commenting
upon the Amnesty. It will be received by all
parties, and has certainly gone far to counter
act the unfavorable impression produced by the
confessed failure of the Italian programme. As
this was an effect easy to foresee, some have
wondered why Napolton did not proclaim the
Amnesty a few days earlier, and so secured a
louder popular shout to grace his triumphant
passage along the Boulevards. They seem to
forget what his Majesy probably remembers,
that Parisian shouting popularity lacks bottom,
and is really not a ve'y desirable support to
any man or institution. These Parisians almost
split their throats with crying Vive Lamartine !
in your hearing a few years ago. A few days
ago, there was considtrable opposition in the
Municipal Council to tie vote which gave him a
cottage to live in at the Bois de Boulogne. They
are weary now, of hearing the name of the man
whom they almost made a God of'tlien, just be
cause they surfeited tteir own ears with the
sound of it. Such popularity as may accrue to
the Emperor from his lite liberal acts, will last
the longer for being kept from the air.
Beside a more grateful recognition of the defi
nite and immediate results of the Amnesty, and
the decree that annuls (lithe warnings so men
daciously suspended hitaerto over the heads of
trembling journalists, popple see in them a proof,
if not absolutely of the government’s strength,
at least of its confidence in its strength, which
comes to nearly the same thing, they say. And
they see, or try to see in them, the inaugural acts
of a largely generous pirty—the beginning of
the completion of that edifice of which Napo
leon long ago expressed Lis desire to crown with
liberty—when it should be completed. Al
though, as you are aware—as you almost re
proached me other day, man cher Redact ear —l
am not disposed to see things in black, 1 must
confess that my own vision in that direction is
quite obstructed by the law of “public safety,’’and
the law on the “press.” The first madman who
should throw a bomb at his Majesty, might pro
voke such an application of the former as would
soou make a new amnesty desirable ; while so
long as the latter keeps its place in the statute
book, anything like free discussion can only be
by sufferance —as privilege, not as right—by
granted license, not by possessed liberty. There
is rumor, based on I do not know what author
ity, that important modifications of the last men
tioned law will be proposed by government at
the next session of the Legislative Body. Louis
Napoleon’s successes, and the new revelations
of ability by which ho has attained them, have
repeatedly surprised the world of late years ;
should he succeed in combining a free press with
his system of government, our admiration will
know no bounds.
As there has been no republicanism distin
guishable only in name from the worst of des
potisms, perhaps this French despotism may
take to itself the first quality of republicanism.
It is the country of contradictions and contrasts.
Going through the garden of the Palais Royal
the other evening, I stopped to hear the music
of the military band that was just assembled
there for its usual daily performance. The first
air they played started a train of stirring memo
ries ; it was 0 Richard! Omonroi! I thought
of Louis XVI., and the banquet given by the
guards at Versailles; and the march of the
people to Versailles ; and of this Palais Royal
garden as it was in those days, and Camille Des
moulin’s exciting revolutionary speeches uttered
there—and so, with all the pleasant, chatting,
or loitering throng of idlers, and children, and
nursesy maids around me in the garden, there
came up on the inside a quite other population
besetting the- imagination. When the tune was
played out, I went on to call on some friends at
the Hotel du Louvre. In the new Louvre , and
nearly opposite, are rooms occupied by troops —
the municipal guard, I think. Their band, so my
friends assured me, had been practicing that af
ternoon a still more suggestive air— La Marseil
laise. The statement of my informant seemed at
first so singular that I was tempted to doubt
their ears, or my own. There is an ordinance
prohibiting the singing of the revolutionary song
in public, and any one who should have whis
tled the air in the street a year ago, would have
been pretty sure of a Sergent de ville at his el
bow, byway of accompaniment, who, to a silent
variation of the “rogue’s march,” would have led
him off to prison ward. My friends who are of
the hopeful sort, and grown sanguine about the
new era of Liberty inaugurated by the Amnes
ty, thought that the Marseillaise had. come into
favor with the powers that be. Undoubtedly,
should the ruler of the French decree to his sub
jects full permission to sing the Marseillaise, he
would attain an immense popularity of the vocal
sort, till all the gamins of Paris had chanted
themselves. How long it, or he could hold out
after that brief period, is another question.—
There is no question, by the way, that he would
also give a most extraordinary proof of confi
dence in the strength of his government, which
in such case, however, might not be nearly the
same thing as strength itself.
It is a curious fact that directly a French ar
my finds itself outside of France, the men fall to
singing and the bands to playing that wonderful
air. It was the case in the Crimea and in Italy.
Where did the men learn it these last ten years ?
It comes, perhaps, to all Frenchmen’s throats by
nature, as Dogbury says of reading and wri
ting; but the brass instruments must be prac
ticed. Yet this instance I have just mentioned
is the only one I know of, where they have been
caught in the act.
We are likely to have another revolutionary
souvenir revived here in a Court of justice.—
The Great Cardinal Richelieu had his busy head
laid to rest in the Chapel of Sorlxmne. There
it rested quietly enough till one of those terrible
days in ’93, when his tomb, as well as so many
others, was violated, and it was taken out, sepa
rated from the rest of the body, and so borne
about, on the end of a pike. The ghastly relic
afterwards fell into the hands of a Conventionel,
who left it to his son, who prizes it highly, and
refuses to relinquish it. But it seems a contin
uation of the desecration to keep this much of
the remains of one of the most illustrious men
of French history, still out of Christian sepul
ture, to be shown merely as an object of profane
curiosity. It is claimed to belong properly to
the State, which thus becomes, in some sort, an
swerable for the sacrilege, and is said to be
about to test its right of ownership against the
present possessor by process of law.
Another historical relic of a very different sort
has lately found its way back to its old resting
place. It is one of the guns taken from the
Austrians, that rolled down the Boulevards last
Sunday week, and a few days after trundled
over to the Arsenal, where it should find itself
at home again. It is rather a clumsy looking
piece, what the French call an dbusee. It bears
in raised letters the following inscription: Ar
senal de Paris. An 11. de la Republique Fran
caise—Liberte Egalite. And so “the whirligig
of time brings about its changes.”
As I have come to speak of the fetes again, I
must mention the only fatal accident that, so
far as is reported, attended them. It befell one
of the prisoners at Toulon who had been con
demned to hard labor for life, but owing to his
penitence and good conduct had been put in the
list of free pardons granted by Imperial grace on
occasion of the fete of the 15th. The good news
was too much for the poor wretch who, directly
on Hearing it, dropped dead for joy. It is really
stranger than this, that no fatal accident should
have happened to any one in the immense throng
that filled Paris streets on Sunday and Monday.
Equally unaccountable to me, is the other fact
that we hear of no picked pockets on the occa
sion. The French are surely as delicately organ
ized as the English, who are so fertile in expert
professors of that department of roguery which
demands, beyond all others, a light touch and
“insinuating manner.” An English friend to
whom I once proposed the problem, immediately
solved it to his satisfaction, by remarking that
the general emptiness of French pockets ren
dered the practice of the profession here impos
sible. Poor D. offered this explanation half in
jest, and I took it wholly in jest, as your readers
will two or three specimens of counter-prejudice
against England, which I quote from a whole
column of them printed in one of the literary
journals here. You understand the writer be
low is utterly serious, angrily in earnest—which
heightens the joke. After having assured the
reader that “though he cannot say he likes the
English, he does not detest them,” which is an
evident strain at generosity on his part, the un
wittingly funny man goes on to state, categori
cally, the reasons “ why the English nation hates
us French.” Here are some of them: “ She
hates us because she is the imitation of progress,
while we are progress itself; she hates us be
cause we are reality, and she is appearance.
* * * She hates us because she raises a
great cry about liberty, and because we are the
only champions of libety. * * * She hates
us because she is commerce, only, while we are
manufacturers, (Vindustrie.’’) There are a num
ber more nearly as good, but I will not surfeit
you. The man who wrote them is undoubtedly
an ignorant conceited body. But M. Tanie is
not. He is one of the first French literary crit
ics, and combines with critical acumen an un
usual liberality and sentiment, a sort of large
generosity of appreciation. Yet in his singu
larly able article on Macauley’s History of Eng
land, where he treats his author’s defects with
the impartiality of a judge, and sets forth his
merits with the warmth of an advocate, you
may read several passages like this: “The last,
the most singular, the least English feature of
this history is, that it is interesting.” Let us
Americans be properly thankful that we enter
tain no idle national prejudices toward others,
nor give them cause to entertain any against us.
The Emperor is taking baths at St. Sauveur,
in the cool Pyrenees—lucky man. Everybody
has left town, (except about 1100,000 of them,
or some such remnant) and left it hot, dusty and
disagreeable.
THE LATE AURORA BOREALIS.
We have accounts in all our exchanges North
and South, from Canada to Mobile, of very unu
sual appearances of the Aurora Borealis during
the last week in August, and the first week of
the current month. Notices of these phenom
ena, at the time of their occurrence, were ex
cluded from our columns by the press of other
matter; but they were so extraordinary as to
require record, and deserve even late notice at
our hands. The following extract from a letter
to the editor of the Constitutionalist will afford
sufficient notice of the phenomenon as exhibited
in our immediate vicinity. Similar notices
abound in all the journals along our whole At
lantic coast.
Mr. Editor; I was aroused early this morn
ing, (if between two and three o’clock can be
regarded by your citizens as an early time), by
one of my household, who informed me that
there was a very bright light in the atmosphere,
apparently in the neighborhood of Augusta, and
fears were expressed that your city was envel
oped in flames. After looking at the light for a
few moments, I was satisfied that it was the
Aurora Borealis, or Northern Light, which had
recently been seen at the North, and which had
so materially interferred with the currents on
• the magnetic telegraph lino between Quebec
and Farther Point, on the 29th of August.
The Aurora last night was very distinctly
seen at about one o’clock and was brightly light
until after two o’clock. After that time, it as
sumed a bright scarlet hue, and lit up the dome
of heaven with its resplendent hues. It was a
magnificent atmospheric spectacle; and while
it afforded pleasure to the scientific observer,
it was doubtless the cause of trepidation and
awe to thousands. The light was seen until
after four o’clock, A. M., and was followed by
darkness. September 2d. p.
— Constitutionalist, Sept. 3.
Xew York, August 29.—The Superintendent
of the Canadian Telegraphic Company’s lines,
telegraphs as follows in relation to the* effect of
the Aurora Borealis, last night:
“ I never, in an experience of fifteen years in
working telegraph lines, witnessed anything
like the extrordinary effect of the Aurora Bore
alis, between Quebec and Farther Point, last
night. The line was in most perfect, order, and
well-skilled operators worked incessantly from
eight o’clock last evening until ten o’clock this
morning, to get over in an intelligible form
about four hundred words of the report per
steamer Indian for the Associated Press, and at
the latter hour so completely were the wires
under the influence of the Aurora Borealis, that
it was found utterly impossible to communicate
between the telegraph stations, and the line had
to be closed.”
The same difficulty prevailed as far South as
Washington.
It is also stated that on the night of the Ist
instant in Boston, some curious electrical pheno
mena in connection with the Aurora Borealis,
were observed on the telegraphic wires. The
following conversation (says the Boston Travel
ler,) betwen the Boston operators on the Ameri
can Telegraph line will give an idea of the ef
fect of the Aurora Borealis on the working of
telegraph wires:
Boston operator (to Portland operator.)
‘•Please cut off - your battery entirely from the
line for fifteen minutes.”
Portland operator.—“ Will do so. It is now
disconnected.”
Boston.—“ Mine is disconnected, and we are
working with the Auroral current How do you
receive my writing ?”
Portland. —“Better than with our batteries
on. Current comes and goes gradually.”
Boston.—“ My current is very strong at times,
and we can work better without batteries, as
the Aurora seems to neutralise and augment
our batteries alternately, making current too
strong at times for our relay magnets. Suppose
we work without batteries while we are affec
ted by this trouble.”
Portland.—“ Very well. Shall Igo ahead
with business?”
Boston.—“ Yes. Go ahead.”
The ware was then worked for about two
hours without the usual batteries, connected.
The current varied, increasing and decreasing
alternately, but, by graduating the adjustment
to the current, s sufficiently steady effect was
obtained to work the line very well.
This is the first instance on record of more
than a word or two having been transmitted
with the auroral current. The usual effects of
the electric storm were also manifested, such as
reversing the poles of the batteries, Ac.
—
Libri’s Copy of Machiavelli. —At the great
Libri book-sale in London, the gem of the col
lection was a copy of Machiavelli's Treatise on
the Art of War. (Aldus, 1540.) This beauti
ful copy, the initial letters of which were print
ed in gold, once formed part of the magnificent
library of Grolier, in whose best style it was
bound. It is well known to those who are cu
rious in such matters, that there were four vol
umes of the works of Machiavelli published by
Aldus, and that Grolier had each of the four
bound id a different pattern. One of these is in
the British Museum, another is in the Impe
rial Library of Paris, a third is in a private
collection at Lyons, and the fourth is the volume
then offered for sale. The competition for this
prize was very great; but eventually it lay be
tween Mr. Boone (for the British Museum) and
M. Techner, the French agent, and eventually it
was knocked down to the latter for £151;
whether the purchase was made for the Impe
rial Library of Paris, or the Due d’Aumale, did
not transpire, but an impression prevailed that
it was for one or the other.
Sale of Burns-Maxuscripts. —At a recent
sale in London, thirty-seven lots of autograph
poems and letters, by Burns, were put up to
competition, and realized large prices. The let
ters, dating from 1792 to 1796, were chiefly ad
dressed to Mrs. Riddel, of Woodly Park, and
brought from £3 to £5 each. Among the
poems were the original of “ The last time I
came o’er the Moor,” which sold for £4 18s.; a
folio sheet, with three songs, “My Chloris,” etc.,
fetched £6 2s 6d.; “0 bonnie was yon rosy
brier,” a composition of four stanzas, £5 155.;
song, “My Nannie’s awa,” £9 10s. The lar
gest price was given, very properly, for the no
blest song in the language, “ a man’s a man for
a’ that.” It was accompanied by a previous bal
lad to the same tune, curious as showing the
trash that Burns supplanted. This lot realized
10 gs.
— 111
Instinct of Toads.— A curious anecdote of the
instinct of locality, has come to us from a highly
varacious quarter. In the town of Franklin, in
Venango county, once lived a gentleman, who
was fond of bees. One momiug he observed
four toads sitting just below the hive. The next
day the same toads were there, grave and
solemn as sphynxes before an Egyptian temple.
One was black, another bright-colored, a third
blind; a fourth marked in some other aistingish
ing way. Thinking they aanoyed the bees, and
seeing they pertinaciously preserved their posi
tion, day after day, he put them into a basket,/har
ried them across the Alleghany, and left them
at the top of a hill. What was his surprise,
three weeks after, to find them at their old post,
as grave and solemn asever 1 Again he removed
them, taking them, this time, in a different direc
tion, and leaving them at a point much further
off. In about six weeks, however, they were
back for the second time. A neighbor, to whom
the incident was told, and who was incredulous,
next tried to lose them. But in a few weeks the
toads were seen, one morning, entering the
garden, uuder the leadership of one of their
number, who gave a “cheep, cheep,” looked
back for his suite, then hopped on, followed by
the rest, untiWie reached his old station, under
the bee-hive, where he gravely took up his old
qnarters.— Philadelphia Ledger.
■^l l Ml
Tiie Coral Insect.— Sometimes God accom
plishes the mightiest ends by the feeblest instru
ments. For example, many of the lovely islands
of the Pacific are formed entirely of coral, while
others are protected from the violence of the
waves by a circular rampart of the same mate
rial. Founded in the depths of ocean, this
coral wall rises to the surface, where it indicates
its presence by a long white line of breakers.—
The giant rollers then come in from the sea, and
threaten with their foaming crests to sweep that
island from its base, spend their strength and
dash their waters into snowy foam against this
protection-wall; and thus as within a charmed
circle, while all without is a tumbling ocean, the
narrow strip of water that lies between this bul
wark and the shore is calm as peace, reflecting
as a liquid mirror the boats that sleep upon its
surface, and the stately palms that fringe the
beach. These stupendous breakwaters, that so
greatly surpass in stability and strength any
which our art aud science have erected, are the
work—of what ? They are the masonry of an
insect —an insect so small that the human eye
can hardly detect it, and so feeble that an infant’s
finger would crush it.
t i»i
It is reported that Mr. Bonner has offered
Mons. Blondin ten thousand dollars, to contri
bute a Beries of Niagara-Pnpers to the Ledger—
each of them to be written on a tight-rope while
the author is crossing the Falls.