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132 LITERARY. VILLIA!II W. IWANN, Editor. The Southern Field and Fireside 18 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. TERMS—I2.OO a year, Invariably in advance. All Postmasters are author!led agents. SATURDAY SEPTEMBER IT, ISS9. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS. We do not send receipts by mail for subscriptions re mitted. The receipt of The South err Field a»d Fireside, after the money is remitted, will be evi dence to each subscriber that his money has been re solved and his name duly entered on the mail book. —i a > 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. ——♦ *» — 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.