Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, October 27, 1872, Page 5

THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1872. e e e e —— e s 5 SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO. The Lager-Beer- Riot of 1855 =-A TUseful Bit of History. Mayor Boone and His Troubles---Gen- eral Dick Swift Cuts a Central Figure. The City Under Martial Iaw--Cannon in the Streets..The Killed, Wound- ed, and Nissing, History is philosophy teaching by example, Cherts are made to show whexe rocks have been found, oftentimes by going ashors on tber. The burned child dreads the fire. We scorn to give credit for any of this wisdom, for no one ‘will believe it original. The invention is not ours, Old Mother Eve bit it out of the firat apple. Humanity gets forward, carrying with it the lessons of human mistakes. Where it tries to travel nnincumbered by snch hand-baggage, itis only accumulating the freight-list for some- body else. And generally humanity malkes such information useful, and saves to itself many a ‘broken shin and stubbed toe by noting the foot- steps of others. The only exceptions we are aware of are the, we believe injurious, state- ‘ment that geese always stumble over the same stone, and (here our donbt flashes into certainty) the kitchen-gitls who are always getting up funerals with cookstoves and kerosene. 0 lot us to a page of history of soventeen yeurs 8go, the Lager-Beer Riot, whicl, we confidently hope and fervently trust, may seventeen years bence be an undimmed and unmated example of how easy it is to start a large conflagration with kindlinghaterial. And how even s monkey with & match may fire a powder-magazine. It was in the midst of the peaceful adminis- tration of Mayor Boone. The prairies that clasp the city came considerably nearer to the centre than now, and the State street omnibuses to the Southern Hotel on Tielfth streef, and the ‘half-hourly line that penetrated the remoteness of West Madison street as far as Bull's Head stock-yards, were our only street vehicles. The old blue brick Sherman House still hung its shabby balconies over the sidewalks of Randolph and Clark streets. The old TRIBUNE wWas giving its readeraits brosd pagoes from thelow brickbuilding opposite, and among the lookers-on in that day’s doings was a Cleve- lander who arrived at the Tremont House that morning, with a view of buying Tae TRIZUNE for himself and his aseociates. The present Mayor of the city can probably review within- terest his sensations ashe surveyed from the top of some shoe-boxes on Clark street the ex- ceeding liveliness of street-scenes in the ity of his proposed adoption. Perbaps his pur- chase was hastened by the sugges- Hon s0 gained that Chicago :was a wide-awake place for home news. Messrs, Beripps, Bross & Spears were issuing the Daily Democratic Press from Dr. Brainard’s Block, a little farther north. The new Court House, with the pepper-castor and inverted saucers that crowned it, was just coming to be & trite subject of admiration, and the citizens were just begin- ning to wonder, after all, if it quite equalled the Parthenon. On the opposite eide of the Court House Square to the Sherman House, was ‘Washington street, a quiet suburban thorough- fare, filled with church-goers on Sundsy. The Baptist brethren were very proud of their brand-new church-structure, where rises the stately Chamber of Com- merce. Good Doctor Curtis was preaching to the First Presbyierians on the site of the preasnt village stracture of Willism 8, Johnston. ‘The Unitarians, and Methodists, and Universal- ists, were all worshiping and praying on Wash- ington street, between Dearborn and Clark streets. Doctor John Evans’ and Doctor Ham- mill’s residences were snugly ensconced under the eaves of these sanctuaries. East of Dear- born street, Washington was an extent of green gardens and modest cottages. John B.' Rice livedin & wide door-yard on the site of the Opera House, and Jerry Price had just died in a little cottage in a closed gerden where now stands Portland Block. The wooden structure of Ply- ‘mouth Church confronted the terminus of Dear- born street on Madison, and Rector Bwope was preaching in the wooden edi- fice of Trinity Church, just over the way, disgonally opposite the present Tamsuxe office. Mayor Boone domiciled in his neat frame residence on State street, near Madison, and his meditations were doubtless bucolic a8 he looked over the lawns and cabbage-gardens of his neigh- bors. And this was only seventeen years ago. TUpon this pastorel community, that filled all the streets leading prairieward, night and morn- ing, with their lowing kine, which came back full-nddered at nightfall up the leafy avenues, an easy journey to and from bountiful pasture, suddenly rose the wrinkled front of grim- viseged war, and out of the events of the next two days the Lager-Beer Riot made its records on an indelible page of our local history. We turn it over to-day, for the lesson is one every citizen can take home to himself, and tell it to ‘his children at his knee, if he chooses. But he will do better if he slips round the corner and tells it to any collection of hot-headed men. Eeep the dear little boysand girls on the Fables of Esop. We sometimes think there is too much capsicum chopped into the children’s modern literary feed. We are not to be betrayed into a long story. Itis not necessary to go too far back into the quarry and talk geology. We are lifting & few blocks of history from tho street where our citizens found them on that eventful eunny Saturday, April 21, 1655. A ques- tion of the enforcement of license-regulations Bgainst saloons was agitating community, and was before the Courts for infringement of the law. It does not matter as to the details. They were not movel, and have not expired by limitations, Judge Henry L. Rucker had many of these cases before him in the old Court House. The trialswere quietly s:)ceed.ing. Nobody dreamed of disturbance or isturbing. It always needs some firebrand of “a fellow to incite defiance of the law. The idea rever strikes the massasa whole. They al- 'ways resort to the better method of waiting for the citizens to remedy the ballot-box, and all excitement is worked off in ward-meetings and eech-making. And thus goes forward stead- iy the ship that holds all our destinies, now one at the helm, now another, the traverse worked now here, now there, but we get onward, and all tho while the bull is staunch below, and the rigging staunt above. And here is where the srime comes in, when some bloodthirsty or simply reckless fellow seeks to scuftle the ship and fire the magazine because he cannot have his own Way smong the cook’s stew-pans. Now the mild soul of Mayor Boone had been véxed very much in thege days by tho cantsn- kerous performances of Alderman Larue, one of whose remote ancestors fired the Ephesian dome, and g0 got eased_of his itch for fame. The family are always doingit ; will continue to doittothe end of time. Alderman Larne's spirit was severely exercised by the froubles snd trials of the saloon-keepers, and sat up ni%t;ts_ovu the subject, until it became a mania with him. His remedy for the wrongs inflicted by the Courts was the sublime and m'ernwing ower of the masees. Ho couldn't ink of s better thing to do than to bring up all the cbntestants in solid phalanx before the image of Justice, who is always blindfolded, you know, take off her blinders, and show the lady with the scales and the sword the people in their power and their might. So he wore out his shoes and the emall hours of the night, neglected his business_asan auctioneer, and made himself a John the Baptist among the saloons of North Clark and Wells streets, telling them their kingdom was at hand. If you will imagine yourself a resident of & foreign city, your adopted home, with all your ggesenb avenues of ready speech and a familiar ngue all about you cut off, you will the better see how it is that the braying of an ucknown ass might, under such circumstances, pees with © ybu for a lion's ronr, unless 70U <new the animal, There are no moro solid and trus citizens, more honest and earnest in all the interests of community, thanthe Germans. The{;ouly afler, and general community suffers, by the restricted channels of | & more suitable point of view. ntercourse with them, which sometimes degen- erate inio estremely foul brass mouth-pieces. o Alderman Larue blew his horn and all tne echioes rang. But echo was silent the next duy, or only murmured back ominously the mutter- ings of angry men, when that fatal Saturday morning _saw the east side of the Court House Square filied with_Aldermen Larue's invited Dreakfast-party. Nome were openly armed. Ko one came for massacro or mischief. They had simply come down to overawe the law andits pro- cesses by their presence. To do him justice, this was all {hat Alderman Larue intended. ~But there they were, Bwarming up the steps into Judge Rucker’s littlo court-room, which kad the Tequisito capacity for a Bible class. The room was filled in an instent like & serdine-box. Then the vestibules were packed. Then the front steps. Then Mayor Boone's gold spectacles locked wonderment, merging into alarm, upon eeveral acres of bumenity that thronged the whole frozt of the Court House Square. This excellent medicine-man knew {hat here was con- geation, yea, congestion of the brain, with all its symptoma eluggish novw, but ready to flash into fever. Tho writer paseed freely among the mass. There was no outbreak; not a noisy ex- pressior of wrath or threat was heard. They were simply following the bed advice to come out in numbers and qverawe justice. But there wero dangerous elements at work. The drums were dropping their rat-tat-tat on_high-strung nerves of men who are naturally soldiers. They EQW g COMMON purpose in one another’s eyes, and a sparl was all that was needed to send iire through the whole. It came. The intense preesure of the mass clogged the entiro business of the Court House, and the police were set to clear first the Court House and then the square. This was done by Captain Luther Nichols and a squad of policemen. 1t is in proof of tho tom- per of the concomrse up to this time that it wes dong with mo outbresk or resort toviolence. Once without the square, officers were placed at all the entrances, and order scemed restored, but Clark street became o dense, compact mass of humanity. Af this point the writer is forced to borrow testimony from no one, for he stood beside Captain Nichols, at the northeast anglo of the squere, Whena burly fellow, a little the worse for drink, at- tempted to force an entranco. Captain Nichols ad a lithe cane, which he leld with both hands across the breast of the men us ho pressed forward. *You cannot go in.” “I will, — ——." There was & struggle, an onsef, o Tepulse, o rally, and tho battlo had be- gun. Intendiag to secare, as well as preserve himself for, a perfectly impartial account of the fray, the writer suddenly selected Now, communi- £y, we caro not where they live, on Milwaukeo svenue or Michigan avenue, is interested, when a fight begins with the police, that the latter shall fight well. God forbid the da; shall ever come that the Chicago policemen shal ever be beaten in & square hand-to-hand contest. They ate the guardiana of our peace, and rongh and violent men must understand that there must be but one result. when the locust is raised, and the slow revolver comes from its eheath. Soon this day, wad in this froy, happily, the police won the lanrels, The battle was & short ono, & rough and tumbie of an, men and flerce men, a polyglot shower of curses, a bang of drums, and then the destruction of the instruments ; the trombone man went to the wall with & fiattened tube of old brass in his hand ; the drummer crawled out of the melee with two empty drum-heads and one uncaptured stick. The more violent of the aseailants of the police, to the number of eigh- teen,were captured and taken to the jail beneath the Conrt House, and the rank and file sped swiftly away. Alderman Larue's white coat had been the oriflamme of tho fray, darting here and there, we honestly believe, with the intention of stopping the fight. Finally he climbed to the top of a hack, whose frantic horses were beset with stroggling combatants, and from that coign_of vantage lifted up his voice, “ My friends—" Ho said no more, for ho was pulled down by the coat-tails, and, asatoo prominent inciter of that day's mischief, waslocked up. At noon order once more reigned, and the mob as gone. But they went With threats. Thoy carried fire a8 they ran, like Samson's foxes. Early in the afternoon exciting news_came from the saloons of North Clark and North Wells streets. They were coming back, coming armed, coming in force to release their friends from jail. And, when a rally of scowlingarmed men actually appeared on the north approach to Clark street bridge, and stood there, waiting for reinforcements, that meant business. —The ‘whole Emnflfi:lice force of the city and Sherift Cyrus_P. Bradley and his officers were moassed sbout ~ the Court House ap- proaches, but no more formal prepara- tions could be made before up Clark street from the river came the srmed rush, silent, ‘without eries, stern-eyed, variously armed. The whole number could not have been more than 200, the fowling-pieco being the weapon carried by most of the men. Clark street and Randolph street by this time were packed with s crowd mostly of curious lookers-on, but interspersed among these were bearers of all varieties of im- provised weapons. Butchers cleavers, stont wal- nut cart-spokes tipped with thimble-skeins, iron bars, heavy hammers, were among the spoils left on that second field of battle. 'he; came on, the armed squad from tho No Side, and the firing began when they reached the northesst angle of the Court House. Up to the instant when the gun-shots were heard, very few lookers-on supposed there would be firing, There wera twenty spectators to one rioter, and the mass was compact. It scattered suddenly. Men ran in all directions, and for a few minutes there was a very good imitation of dire battle. Ttis wonderful—italways is on such occasions— how few of these flying bullets hit anybody. Witness the thick platoons exposed to the lead- enrain of the battle-field. The police wero again victorious ; this timo signally. More ar- resta weremade. Officer G. W. Huntlost an arm, and his aseailant his life, the next instant, shot as he turned to run. In the second story of an adjoining office & vagrant bullet cut open the scalp of J. H. Rees. There were many broken heads, many persons roughly handled, more ar- rests, and again the repulsed assailants retreated to the North Side. 3 Now, War having arrived, Rumors of War (you Xknow they travel together in Seripture) got ont the winged stceds and went all over the city, and Saturday night's sun went down on wrath and terror. Mayor Boone had something on his hands not ordinarily sot down among tho func- tions of the Mayoralty. The military ago was not upon us. Our boys had not leaped from buggies to go off on tumbrils, nor changed the caracole of avenue equestrisniem for the cavalry dash straight smong the enemy's guns. Thoy never dreamed of doing it. Everybody belicved all that sort of thing had been handed over to the Harry Lorrequers and Hector O'Hallorans of romance. The eventful decade on both conti- nents ~ from Sumter to Bedan has told that humanity is much the same inall the ages. Notwithstanding this slumber- ing military firc among us, we had, seventeen Jeams ago, General Dick Swift, whose whito orse gleams on us out of that past, like Don Roderick’s_steed Orelin, of Spsnish legend: Colonel Shirloy, whose_ portly and poaceful form has long eince laid aside for the law even the semblance of war's habiliments. And we might go on with the roll of honor. We had the Chicago Light Guard, who, in two days' encampment, could build a barricade about them with empty champagne bottles, the Montgomery Guards, the Highland Guards,—well, we had the old-fashioned citizen militia in that' time_before Pitteburg Landing, when, like Birdofredum 8awin, none of us knew < why baggmmts wag peaked.” And then, also, we boasted of Captein Jim Smith’s Chicago Bat- tery, whose bright brass guns had the samo lack of eloguent suggestion, ince gained for them. They seemed merely ornamental “ training ™ ap- paratus. Mayor Boone called on the military, nd General Dick Swiftrode into the foreground, the guardian augel of the city. Cannon were posted and gonb!e»almttc and the _cir- cumstance was explained in _ Mayor Boone's posters in German ond English. ‘The Court Houge wes put under garrison, and through the night tho city was tremulous with Tumors. The rioters were mustering in Wright's Grove five thousand strong. No, they were on Milwaukee avenue. They were in the woods, above Clybourne's. It was_strange how many relinble informants knew just where this en- campment was. By Sunday morning & solemn scare had settled upon the city. Magor Boono's proclamation was read in all the churches and glusted everywhere. “In case of outbresk or isturbance, the bells will be rung, when all good citizens will keep at home and out of tho streets, as cannon loaded with canister-shot will be fired. Signed R. K. Swift, Brig. Gen. Comdg.” 1t was an anaious Sabbath, but proved a most quiet one, save in rumors; for the day passed, the citizen-soldiery ate crackers and cheese at their armories, but no rioters came. General 8wift unbuckled his sword-belt, Jim Smith hauled off his field-pieces, the pulse of the city sank to its ordinary ebb and flow, and the Lager-Beer Riot was over. Tho shadow it cast was larger than the substance, but it wae _enough to diturh the peace of & city ; it cost a human life ; it perilled many more ; it created untold unessiness and terror; it helped nobody; it harmed the ve! cause it set out to serve; and all this througl bad adyice uttered by ahot-headed, scheming man, whose scheme was_larger than he bar- gained for, and outran his control. A ratmay make a hole in & dike that an army cannot stop. The safest redress of wrongs and the surest safe- guard of rights is _found in the constitutional mnnuls gecured for expression of the popular DEATH. . The IKing of Werrors Dis- erowned, Smoothness and Serenity of the Downward Path. Dying Glances Directed Backward, Not Forward. In the Galaxy for Novembor, Junius Henri Brownohas an essay entitled ““The King of Terrors Discrovged,” in which Le endeavors to show that the process of dying is usually un- attended by the degreo of pein with which it is olmost universally credited. + Had I the strength to write,” said the fa- mous physician William Hunter in his last mo- ments, %I would write how easy and delightful it is to die.” *‘I had thought dying to be more dificult,” exclaimed Louis XIV. with his latest breath. Montaigne, having met with an acci- dent which it was supposed had proved fatal, snid, upon restoration to consciousness, ¥ I thought that life hung only on my lips, and I closed my eyes to help me in expelling it ; and L hed a sincere pleasurein the belief that I was passing away.” Rabelais laughingly declared ‘when he knew he had but a few minutes to live, # This is the best joke that has ever been played upon me.” Deaths from violence, gencrally considered far more painful than those from illness, are often easy, sometimes pleasant. Sub- tle poizons (strychnine and bichloride of mercury are esceptions), such as opium 1nd hydrocyanic acid, act directly on the nerves, produce stupor, and the victim passes peace- {ully into ineensibility and oblivion. Drowning, which would seem to bo attended with anguieh, is known by persons who have been rescue from the very jaws of death to be accompanicd with sensations not disagreeable, after the brief strangling hes passed. Several times during boyhood I had this semi-drowning oxpetience, and as soon as the instinctive straggle for lifo, and tho pain caused by swallowing water were over, I felt much more comfortablé than I havo ever felt on land. The sensations I then en- jn?'ed were really delightful, like those which follow the taking of laudanum or the smoking of opium,—dreamily soft, delicions throngh _perfect = repose. dan well understand how poor devils drawn out of the water have been made angry by their preservation, having been snatched from the only condition of comfort they had ever known. I have talked with persons who have been poisoned, or who hava poisoned themselves, and who may be said to have died, inasmuch os they had fuolly decided and expected to dic. They very rarely suffered in body or in mind, and they lost their senses fimdunfly 28 when laying their head upon the pillow at pight. Whatever pain they had was not in going from, but in coming back to life, which would make it seem that the arrow-hends directing to death wound only those anxious to return. We have on record the gute-mortem diaries of men who, having swallowed poison with the deliberato pur- Pose of suicide, had wished to leavo & record of the effect upon thonsclves of the conscions ap- proach of denth. Most of these diaries show the surprise of the writers ab the total absence of the 2we or fear commonly believed to bain- separable from such circumstances, Doubtless, the determination of self-extinction had ab- gorbed the anticipated strangeness, and dis- counted the impressiveness and solemnity of the mortal occasion. It is natural to die, but hardly natural to desire to die. To will todio is all there is of deatl. To be killed outright by s gun-shot wound must certainly bo ecsey. have ecen so many men so slain in battle -that 1 am sure of this. I bave narrowly noticed officers struck_ while leading a _charge. Their faces evinced startled surpaise, not anguich, and their nervous system received such a shock that, before_senestion could rally, they had ceased to breathe. To eay that a man sud- denly put out of life by violence does_not know what hurts him, i8 exactly true. He is dead without thought of death, and therefore spared all mental apprehension, which is the worst part of dying. Abrupt death by external agencies must be very analogousto the shock from & Loy- den jar. Itisseharp and sudden spasm, inde- scribablo, yt all-pervading—not to bo anticipat- ed; leaving no trace, not an - atom of lingering perception—come sud gone in aflash. \When one is struck by a bullet, and is aware of it (I speak by experience), he knows mot at first whether he ig slightly or fatally wounded. The shoclk is much the same. The chief difference is, that in the former case he remembers his feel~ ing, and in the latter ho remembers nothing; p e being neetly if not entirely simultane~ ous with sensation. During tho first siege_of Vicksburg I was on the Miesissippi in & wooden ram, which had been shot to pieces in front of that city, and was going \g the river for repairs. Opposite Green~ villo, Mississippi, where topography favored hostile operations, the rebels opencd on our Datiered and helpless hulk, first with small arms, and then with six and twelve-pound fiold~ pieces dprntected by the lovecs. Our vessel could do little morethan make head ageinst the stream, and our sole armament consisted of a few old rifles captured {from the enemy, and perilous only to thoto who handled them. Desirous to make s show of resistence, two or three of us were laboring hard o diecharge theee wretched guns at the invisible foe through loop-holes in planks nailed against the guerds. While I was struggling to get one of the rifles off, Iwas suddenly struck by—I knew not what. There was a cracking sound all about me, and r!l')me).hin%l that seemed like a blinding flash immediately before my oyes. My first impression was that Iwas wounded to death ; though I felt no pain—nothing but the concussion. In & few moments I collected my scattered senses, and, looking round, saw thata twelve-pound shot had perforated the planks within a fow inches of my head, knocking the splinters into and cuiting my face, and lterally severing in twain_ a poor fellow who ~"had been ui:mdinfi a littlo to myloft. HadIbeen mortally hurt, instead of being merely scratched, I am_sure I should have felt exactly as I then did. My sensntions were precigely those accompanying an electric shock, 1mention this incident simply to show the entire harmony between my theory and my experience. I musthave felt at that time just asmen have looked whom I have seen fafally shot, and doubtless I should have looked in the samo way to others. Death by failing from & height, especially to those witnessing the broken limbs and mangled remains, appears horrible; and still there are ex- cellent reasons for thinking it unattended by a single throe. Nearly all healthy and natural boys _ have frequent narrow escapes from breaking their necks by lofty tumbles from tree-fops, house-roofs, and other perilous places, whero they are cortain to go_be- cause they are told nob to. Of falls of this kind Ihave had my share. I canrecall divers aerial Tights of my early teans when, in following the Iaw of gravitation, I hit the earth so bard that I could not tell for half 4 minute. whether I was my normal self or the subject of a Coroner's in- quest. Contact with the ground merely cansed numbness, succeeded only subsequently by a sense of suffering. After coming to the conclu- sion that I was not dead anyhow, I usually began testing my limbs to determine how many were breken; and I seemed often to have a curiosity quite impersonal in the matter. 1t one fall from an estraordinary elevation, as {from an Alpine precipice down & mountain crev- ‘asse, or from a balloon, he loses consciousness and seneibility long before striking any solid substance. Descent through a certain space destroys animation, 8o that death by slipping from & great height, while it addresses itself to the imagination as something terrible, is cor- poreally prinless. 2 Freezing to_death, which would convey the impresgion of distress, is in its later stages, a8 we all know, mot only free from anguish, but positively plessant. The preliminery state, as Tost of us bave experienced, is painful ; but while the pain continues the danger is distant. Drowsiness is the advance-guard of real peril, and the drowsiness deepens into aluxurious stupor, which, once felt, no one desires to sheke off. Solander, the Swedish naturalist, the companion of Captain Cook and Sir Joseph Banks in their expeditions, was con- stantly warning his associates of the insidious and dangerous effects of extreme cold in high northern lattitudes. And yet he was among the firet to yield to tho seductions of the snow e bar from which he wag with the greatest diffi- culty aroused. Solander's servant excelled his master in imprudence,—making his couch under tho Arctic sky, and answering, when told he would die if he slept, that nothing would pleass im better. u ‘Hanging,—thst relic of barbarism which we gtill permit to discrace the statute books of many of our States,—would strike any ono who has witnessed an_ execution as a torturous mode of death. Buf, _re~ pellent and ignominious as is this form of legal murder, it is coneidered almost pangless. The cord produces suffocation, unless the neck ‘o dislocated by the fall, and suffocation begets insensibility to pain. The instances are numer~ ous of persons who have hanged themselves and been resuscitated. They have declared that, after brief discomfort, they had delightfal seneations, enjoying charming panorsmas of light and color, and beholding sucg ‘blissfal vis~ ions as never were on gea or land. Criminals who have escaped by the breaking of o rope have described marvellous phantasmagorie, such a8 flash through the fervid drenms of a poet. Henry IV., of France, once offered a pardon L0 & criminal * who had escaped = complete strangling by the fracturo of a cord; bot " the ‘condemned man had found hanging g0 agreenblo that Lo declared pardonTiad become a matter of indifference, Stories ara told of Frenchmen who have so much cnjoyed the reention of hauging that they suspended themsclves frequently, having & previous understanding withh their forvanta a8 to the oxact momenc wheu they should be cut down; the strictest punctuality being required to prevent the estinction of tho vitel spark. I have rend of a caraless valet in Paris who, after tying up bis master to {he bed-post, according t= the prescribed regulations, stepped into an ads joining wine-shop, and forgot all about tho do- pendent gentleman until it was too lnte for the Tepetition of the peculiar ezperiment. . Tho garroto, the form of capital punishment in Spanish countries, and the guillotine, which Daa done such bloody worlk in France, were in- vented as & morciful mode of execution. I have seen them tested, and I should think that their ‘manner of inflicting death, revolting as it seems, might bo as humane, if I may nse the adjective, asany such sevagery will admit, Tho garrote appenrs to me thoe least barbarous fashion of stalutory manslaughter, sinco it preserves hu- man beings from an airy and grotesquely awful dance of death, and provents the hideous cnd bloody spectacle of o headless trunk. The theory, based upon tho movement of the eyes and Tips, and tho contraction of tho muecles of the body after decapitation, that the vic- tims of tho - guillofine suffer in- tensely, is not sustained by scien- tific investipation. Such action is spasmodic, and must tofe place after inscneibility has been catablished by tho soveriug of tho uixinnl cord, and of the communication of the whole nervous syatem of the brain. Onp of the most dreadful and appalling deaths is by fire; and hence the aufos da fe of the In- quisition still shine with baleful glare amid the numberless atrocities of the Middle Ages. Still the destruction of life by burningis far lees terrible in fact then it is to the fancy, and con- demnation to the stake i8 a rhetoricrl horror not angwered by careful cxemination. Excruciating and lingering 6 such & death seoms, it is really brief, and comgnmti-.'nly exempt from bodily anguish. He who i3 exposed to fire necesearily inhales the flame, putting an_end to sensi- bility and the prninciple of vitality at omce. Pereons rescued from burning buildings have been found lifeless, though their bodies had barely been singed ; ;;;oving that the slow con- suming of flesh, which appears to us so awful and 8o agonizing, takes place too late to pro- duce pain. The victim we imagine to be writh- ing in untold torture, is at that moment heyond the reach of physical harm, beyond the capacity to suffer further. 1t has 8o happened that I have secn many men and women die. Without design or disposition on my part, I have very many times been present when sick persons were ebbing to eternity. I bave ‘seen men and women, young and old, cultivated _and _ignorant, = orthodox _and heterodox, in their last moments. and, as s rule, all of them passed away, if not without regret, at least with entiro resignation. None of them showod dread of the future. Their thoughts wore fixed on what they were quitting, not on what they were going to. I observed that some of them were troubled, perhaps dis- tressed, when they first thought thoy could not recover, but that, the nearer their ond came, the less apprehensive and the calmer they grow. Faving once banished hope, tranquillity scomed to descend upon them as & substituto, aud aftor- ward, if free from physical pain, there was un- rufiled pesce. If encouraged to believe they might get well, or if they had a favorable turn, the old_ anxiety, with something of the former apprehension, resppeared; proving that their mental dispuietude was born of their expecta- tion of life, not of their fear of death. Thus was established a cloar analogy between material and spiritual snguish under the samo circum- stances. A® we bave seen, they who are badly Lurt or eeriously ill. experience suffering in oing back to life, while downward path to genth, both for the body and the soul, is paved with smoothness and serenity. My widest and most convincing observation of denth was in the military prison of Saliebury, North Carolina, where, having fallen by the for- tunes of war intothe hands of the enemy, Ispent nearly twelve months. During two years passed in the field, and the third year in other places of confinement in the South, I had had sbun- dant opportunity to sce_brave fellows slain in battle and perishing by inches. But Salisbury furnishes an excess of horrors which, while the; revolted humanity, furnished a broad umugg hideous field for its study. Late in the autumn of 1864 some ten thousand Union prisoners, private soldiors, were sent from Bella Tilo, Danwille, and othor pornts in thg South, to Salisbury, where there were no mesns of providing for them. Without shelter, with- out_clothing, without any adequate En%ply of food, cepecially s the season advanced, they literally froze and starved to death. During the £wo months greviuuu to my escape, the poor fel- lows perished at the rate of four hundred a week, 2 Tatc of mortality not equalled even at Ander- sonville. Had this continued, only twenty-five weeks would havo been needed to destroy the entire number; butbefore that time the weather moderated and the long interrupted oxchange was resumed. What were called the hospitala— scarcely better than ifi,’sfies—would not Lold one-gixth of the sick. " My confrere of the Trib- ‘une and myself having been placed in charge of these wretched lazar-houses, we wera brought into immediate and constant contact with suffer~ ing and death in every repulsive shapo. Having some Luowledge of medicine, I performed tho part of an amateur physician, for lack of a bet- ter. Spending much of the time in tho hospi- fals, and crawling into the holes tho soldiers hud dugin the ground to protect themselves from the bleak wind, for the purpose of visiting my unfortunate S}\fients,l saw more clearly than ever bow readily mon resign themselves to de- cense. The prisoners _generally represented the aversge understanding and intelligence of the Nortk. Most of them were from tho small towns and the agricultural regions, especially of New England, whero the spirit of skepticism seldom penetrates, and where men nmfly Tun in the groove cut by their circumstances. I had expected that, trained as they had been, they would evince the effect of their training in a certain theologic horror of death, but I was greatly diseppointed, 1 must have seen from ten to twelve in n dying condition daily for two months, and I cannot remember that a single one of the poor fellows munifested the least fear of the end he knew to be incvitable. 1 found the experienco repeated which I had had elsewhere. The men aboni to die Jooked backward, not forward; were concerned with what life had given them, not what death might bring, They thought of their mothers, wives, sweethearts, friends ; had trifles or meseages to Teave for them ; Teferred to some pleasant past ; were touched by tender memorics, instead of ‘being haunted by fears or_oppressed by solici- tude for the [future. The commonest and coargest soldiers were humanized and refined as they approached the terminus of their weary journey, and spoke 2sif & new spirit had pos- sessed them. I remembered Swedenborg's idea that the good angels take charge of the dying, enter into them, wnd lead them cheorfully and joyously awsy. The vision of death is no grita_ spectre, 88 has been por- trayed ; it ia o mild-oyed phantom rather; be- nignant in seeming, suggestive of consolation. They who haye beheld if and come_bacl will tell you 80, and they who have beheld it and not re- turned have loft evidenco of such denoting. 1f Life be a cynic, as ho is often forced to be, Death is a sentimentulist. softening and sweeten- ing many hard and acrid natures to whom. he comes. * Dost peraons seem anxions toknow if they are going to die—not becaure they wigh to make psychical preparations, Lut that they may ar- range their material affairs, give final directions for the dispoeal of their effects or their remains. Again and agein have I been asked by the .wasted wretches in prison: **Do you think I'm ‘a gone case, doctor? I'm mot affaid to die, but I want to know.” I¢ Thad reacon to believe—and I almost al- ways had—that such knowledge would uot weigh against them in the delicately rdjusted scales of being and not being, I gavg my opinion fravkly. Whenleaid, ~Tam afraid there is very little chanco for your recovery,” or *If you wisk to make any arrangements should the worst come to the worst,” I observed that euch discourngin phrascs were received almost uniformly wilg calmness, and 8o frequently with the repeated declaration, “'I am not afraid to die!” that I ::::eo :“nfifi;"d H:liu as the expreseion and pro- e an p i S ratiton Teseon against anthority and I bave found, particnlariy at Salisbu that materiel comfort is Lhye thing 10112:?& for by the dying. In theirlast hours men and women want physical rest and ease above aught else ; and I have known instances in which the replies of persons near their dissolution were in such sharp contrast to inguiries made of them 1s to become positively grotesque, : LIwas pregent when an acquaintance, having been struck down in the etreet by a falling chimnoy, was carried home in a dying state. AS soon a8 he recovered conscionsness, his wife, balf frantic with terror, leaned over the sofa on which he lay, and said, ** Oh, my darling, do yon really loveme?” The responso was, Yes, if you will pull of my boots,” and these were his last words. = A gentleman, long ill of o wasting fever, had reached that- . condition of rest which generall Lieralds the great transformation. Hisbetrothed, who hiad devotedly nursed him, gaid : “ Dearest, do you die Lappy?” I should,” was the answer, “if that infernal fly wouldn't bother me,” and spoke no more. “Wouldn't you like tosee your father?” inquired & doting mother of her only son, as his lifo was ebbing Zast. ** Of course I should, but I'd rather have my face washed.” Such words, apparently barsh znd unfeeling, como from persoas of natural sensi- bility and tenderness, because in their dging hour the desire for muaterial comfort often crowds out every other consideration. In certain orgenizations, much less courage is domanded to die than to do or dere. They who who will iy in tetror from actual or seeming ‘poril, will esign life withont a tremor. I retain o vivid memory of a soldier at Salisbury, who was_generally shunned by the membera of his regiment, for the cowardice he had shown indifferent actions. Hehad not been in prison more than n fortnight when he applicd to mo for admission to the Lospital, and 1 per- ceived ot ouce thab his days were numbered. Thongh uneducated, be wasnatarally intelligent, considerate, and generouns. I had heard him do- nounced 80 much for his pusillanimity that I felt sorry for him, knowing that really kind-hearted end estimable men muy sometimes be timid from constitutional_inheritance, or derangement of the nerves. It is deplorable to bo without courage, but to have and hold it is not always within the province of the will or the reason. After tke poor fellow had been rudely housed, and had received such slender attention as could be given him, he became entirely sure that his end was nigh. On o certain afternoon, as X passed the goiled straw on which he lay without bed-covering of any Xind, I inquired how he felt, #7 feel.” he replied, 2 if Twas pretty nearly played. I'm goin’ to hand in my chips now mighty 8oon, and I don't caro nothin’ about it, neither. You mayhave heard, Doctor, that T didn't like to fight, and I didn’t; but I'm not afeerd to die; for fightin’ is one thing and dyin's another. I mever wanted to hurt nobody, and I hated to be hurt myself. I tell you this here fightin's a mighty sight o trou- ble, but a fellow can lay down anywhere and die easy, cept in this tarnation place. It's kind o’ rough hero, ain't it, doctor 2 Lordy, if I could o et warm once, and have a gaufl square meal, 1'd jes a8 soon die as not. T'd jes 28 soon die anyhow ; but it ud be sort o’ nico to goout 0’ this world real warm an’ not hun, any more. I'm 2 goncr sure. I haint gob notli- in’ to leave to nobody, only & poor old mother in Indiany, and I'm glad she haint knowed how 'tis down here.” After listening tomy regret that I could do nothing for him, he closed his eyes a few min- utes as if in sleep, and then resumed his talk. 41 feel better now; I 2in't cold nor hungry no more. You haven’t given me nothin’ to eat— haveyon? This place don't seem 8o bad as it did; by jiminy, I'm warmnow. It's all right, docfor. T'm glad—" Again the poor fellow's eyes closed, and when they opened life had ehut. /8 'Z ’7” DAYS OF VANITY. el A dream that waketh, Bubble that breaketh, Song whose burden igheth, A passing breath, Smoke that vanisheth— Such is life that dieth, A flower that fadeth, Truit the treo sheddeth, Trackiess bird that flieth, Summer-timo brief, Falling of # leaf—~ Sach is lifo that dieth, Ascent exhualing, Snow waters failing, ‘Morning dew that dreth, A sudden blust, Lengthening shadow cast,— Such i3 lifo that dietn, A ecanty measure, Rust-eaten treasure, Spending that naught buycth, ‘Mloth on the wing, Tofl unprofiting,— Such 18 life that dieth, Morrow by morrow Borrow breeds sorrow, For this my song sigheth ; From day to night. We pass out of sight,— Such is life that dieth, —3fiss Rossetti. —_— THOUGHTS. Biography is the home aspect of history. —The ‘mother's heart is the child's Bchool- room. —Blessedness is a whole eternity older than damnstion. —Itis not the one-idead man, but the chief- idead man, that is eucceseful. —Dirt is not dirt, but only something in the wrong place. —No life is pleasing to God that is not nsefal to man. —Dignity and love do not blend well, nor do they continue long together. —Abeau is everything of a woman but the sex, and nothing of & men besido it. At 25 yoars of nge, the will reigns; at 30, the wit; at 40, the judgment. —Ennui is the desire of activity without the fit moans of gratifsing the desire, —We are governed more by influences than circnmstances. —2an's chief wisdom consists in being sensi- blo of his follies. —To be open to argnment, and to be open to conviction, are two different things. — Better than fame is still the wish for fame, the constant trainings for & glorious strife, — Mean spirits under disappointment, like small-beer in & thunder-storm, always turn sour. . — Conceit not so high a nolion of any as to bo bashful and impatient in their pres- ence. — Nothing is more dangerous than an impru- dent friend; better is it to deal with a prudent enemy. — Do not askif a man has been through col- !ei' Askif o college has been through nim ; if he is 2 walking universijy. —We may have many acquuintances, but we can have but few friends; this made Aristotle say that he that hath many friends hath none. —It i8 one of the beautiful compensations of this life that no one can sincerely try to help another withont helping Limself. —1It i8 with narrow-sonled people as it is with narrow-necked bottles—the less they have in tha‘m, the more noise they make in pouring it out. —A man can never do anything at variance with his own nature. Ho carries within him the germ of his most exceptional action; and if we ‘wise people make eminent fools of ourselves on any particular occasion, we must endure the legitimate conclusion that we carry o fow grains of folly to our ounce of wisdom. —To resist temptation once is not & sufficient proof of honesty. If a servant, indeed, were to resist the continued tomptation’ of silver lying in & window, a8 some peoplo let it lie, when he is sure his mastor does not knowhiow much thero i8 of it, hie would give » strong proof of honesty. But this is agmnf to which you have no right to put 2 man, You know, humanly speaking, there 18 5 certain degree of temptation which will overcome any virtue. Now, in so far as you ap- proach temptation to a man, you do him an in- Jury, and, if he is overcome, you share his guilt. —_— > Food from the Sea. Richard D. Cutts. Eaq., in his elaborate report to_Congress showing the catch, consumption, and value of food from tho sea, catimales its {Iem']y worth at $120,000,000, in Europe and the nited_States, including Japsn. Valuing the fish ab thrée cents per pound, it gives an amonnt of four billion pounds as the yearly vield of the sea of food for man. wo estimate the weight of neat cattie at 700 pounds each, and a pound of fish to be equal 1o a pound of meat, we have here as much food, all the uncostly growth of the ocean, 88 i8 equal to five and three-fourth millions of cattle. The smallest consumers of fish per head are Japan and Russia : the largest Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island, and Nova Scotia. The last named places are surrounded 1y the water, and the fish are abundant at their doors and always in condition for a meal. Nor- way takes the lead, and France and the United States follow in production. —“How liko its father it is!" exclaimed the nuree on the oceasion of the christening of & bplée, whose f:_\%har,“w‘l,m v{x‘lf over 70, had mar- ried & young wife. " Very like,” ropliéd & atiri- G TadY: *5s Basit & Eooth b e noagr T WHAT MADE HIM SHINE ? We met him on the Waverley road, two miles ont of town, trudging along with bent form, eagerly poking about in the dust with 8 lODF, crooked stick. Well, that was nothing unusual; we had often seen him before with the same heavy stoop in his shoulders, and carrying the same knotted stafl, which wastoo long for a cane and tooslender fora sugl)lort‘ He seldom looked up, but, when he did, his eyes, get far back in Lig head, wero small, and sharp, and groy, and ecarching, and they fell again almost instantly to the ground. o had seen him in town, wan- dering up and down the Btreets, peering into every crack and crenny of the stone pevement; e had crossed him in the lobby of the opern, ever stirring sbout, but wrapped wholly within either himself or the pattern of the carpet; we had noticed him in the Court-room, moving Test- lessly about, always scanning the floor with the same intent espreesion ; wo hadypassed him.on the turnpike, still with his keen, sleapless cyes benhfigldly fipon the ground,—we had met him in all these places, his anxious yellow faco tak- ing no heed of us; but that day wo met him on tha Waverly road, two miles out of town. We had been on a ride—partly of pleasure, partiyof business—and were driving back to town. It was 2 beautiful morning in June, the brilliance of tho sun unflecked by a eingle clond inthe deep-bluc sky. There was no moisture in the air, nor on the waving leaves; and in the dry and pleasant fields the grasshoppers were holding n jubilee, We put the top of the buggy up to shield us from the heat, and allowed tio horse to choose his own pace, which had slack- ened to a walk, while we leaned comfortably back in our seafs, enjoying the situstion. My friend watched the old man a good while, and said : “What a singular creature! T have often wondered who he cen be, for I believe he haunts every nook and corner of the town and country. How terribly stooped he is! But he does not appoar to b feeble, becauso I never saw him quiet; and, though he takes no notico of any- thing about bim, ho has & strange, eager man- ner, a8 if he might he upon some business of Dressing importance.” T rephied that I had oftan noticed it, and could never understand, either, why he carried that crooked stick, for certainly it was of no possible use. As we had passed him, I turnedround, when George said, suddenly : #“Why, Joo, see herc! What's the matter with his clothes? Thoy shine 88 if they were covered with spangles! Just look at them!s And what on earth is ho doing ?” 2 Here the old man, who had bent for an in- stant on one knee, jumped up, and shrieked out: “Twenty-three thousand five hundred and ninety-eeven!” g~ George and T, scarcely crediting our ears, looked at each other in blank amazement. We looked af each other. and looked ab him. ‘What conld it mean? We drew in the reins, and called, without receiving any reply. We calledagain, and louder, but tho old man, with his eyes fixed nsun the ground, persisted in utter silence, and gent up such s thick cloud of dust by the rapid movement of his stick that we could hardly see him. When it cleared, he had nearly reached the toll-gate, and wa were obliged to content ourselves simply with astonished ejaculations. That night, abont 12 o'clock, the two of us were returning on foob from the theatrs, when whom should we meet but the strange old man who had go aronsed our curiosity in morning. He turned guickly around the corner and came ‘upon u8 o suddenly that he brushed ug\nsc my loft side in passing. The night was dark, and he was out of sight in a moment. But what waa the singular noise we heard for an instant, like the resping winge of an insect? And, when I held up my left arm, that coat-sleeve was torn in small three-cornered snags. I looked at Georgo in mute inquiry, and we both gazed be- hiud us into the darkness; but there came no answer from nngeplnce. It must have been more than & week after this that, one bright afternoon, I was taking a atroll by myscif in the upper part of the town, when I'met theold man again. This time he came upon me 80 nnexpectmfiy that I did not see him until Le was just opposite, when he suddenly bent on one knee, stooped to the ground an in- utant, then jumped up, and shouted, in & motal- I turned round to look at him, but at the first glance I covered my eyes with my hands, almost blinded, for he flashed like quicksilver in the son; and, before I recovered, he turned down some_alley or street, and had dissp- peared, aud found myself zoro completely be- wildered than ever before. Irelated theinci- dent to George, but he could coms no nearer solving the mystery—for mystery it certainly now had become. Neither of us could even sug- gest a possible explanation. It undoubtedly had not been an optical illusion, for, when we mot him in the country, George had Witnessed the same luminous phenomenon, though perhaps not quite so vividly. ButT had made another discovery in the glance that I caught of him this time, for, quick as it was, I noticed a peculiarity ‘about Lim that I had never seen bofore. Hia finger nails were almost an inch in length, and trim- med to & point, sharp as biack talons. I did not toll George of this—why, I cannot say, unloss because the remembrance of their claw-like look invariably made me shiver, and, hardly knowing what to think of the old man, I did not mention it ; then, besides, it was really but a trivial cir- cumstance. The following day business at the bank proved remarkably hesvy, ot leastmy particular share. 1t ecemed to havo taken 2 sudden freak of re- morza for the easy time it had beenallowing e, and immediately concluded to make full atone- ment. I worked steadily through ail the morn- ing and half the afternoon, allowing myself only a few moments for dinner. About 8 o'clock, tired and cramped in position, I leaned back in my chair to take & gonrl stretch, and had just closed my mouth after & most refreshing yawn, that came near imperilling the desk, when I heard the teller say to some one: ** He thinks when he gets twenty-five thousand that something grand will happen to_him, and he'll be among the highest in the land. He works hard onongh for it, poor soul! and is_as honest about it a8 if the whole world was looking on. Of course, the very fact of his trying to get twenty-five thonsand shows that he is badly cracked, utterly crazy. It is a queer ides of his, }mt,gmbody can rerson with him about the mat~ er. Thad not heard who he was talking about, nor @d I inquire, but I thought to myself asl trimmed my pen: “Well, twenty-five thou- sand i3 nof much; you have ten times that amount, and did not come by it very easily either, but nobody thinks you are °cracked’ or ‘utterly crazy, and it is hardly ¢ queer’ that & person should want money in'this age of the world, and, if he is horest, 1t is more than can beseid of—" My quill hod o most besutifal point! To- deed, I 'quite prided mysel? on_the art of pen- making, and highly pleased with the satisfac- tory result of this delicate operation, Ifell to work again with renewed energy, forgetting all sbout twenty-five f.hou'fngr{ or fifty thousand, or any other particalar thomsand in the high pile of notes that still remained waiting to be entercd. I plodded bravely ahead, but my good humor was not destined to be of long duration, as, before they were greatly di- minished, I discovered an other job, for which I certainly had made no calculation. It was a mistake, resulting entirely through tho carelessness of the indorser, I immegi- ately saw & seven-mile trip into the count: for some of the bank clerks, and I ecte it would more than likely fall to my lot. I conld not help mentally anathematizing all people in genoral, and this man in particalar, for g 50 loose ahout business affairs, and apparently caring little how much trouble and inconvenience they gave to others. After ap- pea.lmf to the President for his decision, it turned ont just as I had anticipated ; first, {hat some one must go out and see the man person- ally; and, second, that I must be that unlucky ““some one.” The job had just & single Te- deeming feature, which was, that & day or two, or dven three, ‘made mo especial differenc, otherwise it really would have been beyond my Christian forbesrance, as it wns already late, 2nd I was tired, and the afternoon hot and disa- greeablo, Lwaited until Thursdsy, vainly hoping that tho hent might moderate, or that 1t mght rain, but the morning dawned without any ge in the temperature. Finding it impossible to de- lay the matter still longer, I went over to the livery-stable, ordered the buggy, and, s I had Ppreviously gained George's consent to accom- pany me—for there is no society I would quicker held their jubilee, and from the level pastures farther off came the sound of distant bells, and sometimes close by tho roadside the farmers whetted their scythes. Yes, it was_certainly not so dissgreesble as I had imagined, and, while wo rolled pleasently along, I experienced quite & revolution of fect- ing toward the suthor of this forced journey- When we errived at our destiration, and were ushered into his presence, the business was speedily accomplisked, =znd, after I had satisfied what remecined of my irritabla feelings by showing, in a gertlemanly man- ner, the béinonsness of tho mistale, and fully impressed_the awfal consequerces that mighl bove resulted from it on his mind, vo stepped into the buggy and turned our faces homeward. George proposed returning by our favorite route, and, as it would besides save us ulmost & mile, we crossed over to the Waverly rcad. We were hardly more than half way back, when, for the first time, we suffered from the heat.” The singing of tho insects had ceazed. Every breath of wind had expired, and nothing stirred in the dead colm thab bound up the land like & mighty spell. The very atmos- here grew stagnant, and its sulphurous folds ung over us with o heavy oppression. The sky was like burnished brass, the ground like heated stone. I had hardly turned to look at the wost, when the wind broke_ looso with a sadden rush, and the birds, screzming in their fright, whirled inconfused circles. Thero was no time to bs lost, and I kmew from experience that I could not manage the horse in 3 storm. We drove rapidly for o shed which stood fortunately buta short distence beyond.. “Already the black clond that I had seon, an inky point 2bove the horizon, hod reared itself into & gigantic mountaiu and shot its jagred pinoacles over the zenith, and = fow swollem drops of rain splashed in our facss as wo gained. the sholter, Just ab that moment the swange 01d man, with the bow heavier in his back, aud his sharp gray eyes eagerly searching every rut and gully, came up tho road, peving no head to tho throatoning tempest. Scddenly he stosoad as I had seen him before, picked up somsthing from the ground, then, throwir zi Limself back, flonrlsherfhia long, knotted stick with a wild, triumphant gestare ovor his heed, and shorixd in 2 loud, metallic voice: ¢ Tyenty-five thouszand!” Instantly 3 vivid flash broke from the edge o the mggadv cloud, and ten thousand sparks of fire lit up tlie old man, who fell upon the road— killed by lightning. ¢ ‘We ran up to him _immediately, and, fore the thunder hed rolled &way, & was folly ex&a}fined, for the elect ‘been attracte oven be- mystery by innumerable pins, which were tuck straight_throngh his clothes, with their points outwerd.—Florence ieLandburgh, in Ap- pletons’ Journal. SCRAPS FROM THE SERMAN. An Anthem. OB { happy Immortals are you Who dwell in the Spirit-land ! What you love you clasp, what y0u OwR 30U §rasp, With a never-dying hand. Nought that belongs to you fades, But, in your bright spheres on bigh, D2 you feel and know that hiero below’ We're divided ere wo die? Death is not the only voice, Nor the strangest, that calls usaway: Many & colder hand comes to sever tho band the Spirit leaves the clay! Then theeyes oerflow, And the heart is bowed down e I sozzow, ua though Death bad stlle] thalast b real Of our loved and our own. Mclody. Voice from the far world of song, Sigh of the angel within us! Thou bringest thy spell—the deep and strong— With persucsive powerto win us. ‘When the voices of our lovad ones are still, And a tear tho eye has clouded,— ‘When the heart in its prison-house feels chill, By gloomy thoughts enshrouded : OL! then do we pour through thee our sighs, And gend forth onr words of corrow, Till brighter and better thoughts arise Wath hope for a happier morrow., —_— FASHION. Opera hats are now made mostly of satin. —Large pearl aro the coirect thing in shi Y voico! stads To (01 drevs, Menty-fonr thoussnd. o hundsed and | o Yolel-chain ndlocket roout of place for e o —Ladies' umbrellas are now medo with s gilt ring on the ferule to fasten to the waist-belt, ,. —Dress vests are now cat with but a single "button, and are very much embroidered, —Ladies are wearing regular dickies, stznd-up c&zxflm, and scarfs tied in 2 sailor Imot, on tho street. —It is £2id that the long, grey, belied-in TUl- ster overcoats will be much worn on the street this winter. —One inch square is the largest admissibla centre for & lace handkerchief. —Gamet jewelry is very much in favor abrosd —especially in Paris. Silver sattings are pre- ferred to gold. —Neck-ties of very gey colors are once more fashionable. The war between bleck and white neck-ties for full-dress continues to rage, the whites having rather the best of if. —Pale amber is the fashionable color in kid gloves. Castor gloves are the gxmper thing for fir‘:injtlemen‘a walking dress; nndressed kids for ies. —Very protty wreaths and garlands for dress frimmings are now made of nctural flowers, coated with a thin film of silver by a process of electro-magnetism. —The queerest set of jewolry that has an- poared in New York this seéason consists of ear- rings and breast-pin made of coral, elaborately carved to represent that poetical creature, a boiled lobster. —The very latest style of coiffare is made of the natural fiair, twisted on the top of the head in a flat knot, from vwhich depend two long zr.l aon;ewlmt stringy ringlets, also presumedly nat- ural. -Tobacco pouches of squirrel skin are the la- test novelly. The head and tail of the znimal are reteined as orpaments, and a pini silk or satin lining adds_materially to the pratty ap- pearance of the nicknack. —Embroidered silk costumes are ves able this fall, the overskirt and unders] eing completely covered with the finest embroidery done by hand. These costumss are very rich and stylish, suitable for the street, 25 well as for dinner orreception-dress. —At the most fashionable dancing parties in New York this winter, the carpets will be taken up and the floors waxed. Dootors have declared that the lint which rises from linen dancing- cloths is very injurious, and saciety has made up its mind not to breathe naplkins and table- cloths in a gascous form any longer. The Feminine Element in the Deity. The London Quarterly, in discussing the feminine clement in our conception of God, saya: * To Protestants the worship of the Vir- ginis a_snperstition, gracefal and beantiful in many of its sapects, 10 doubt, but, like all other superstitions, liable to run into extrarngance, and to ally itself with fonoies socially injurions and absurd. We are, therefore, discree and prudent in not allowing this eloment to crecp into our habits of religious worship. Neverthe- less, we have something to learn from it; it _indicates a want, an ine t which wo have too long disrogarded—the want of affectionateness, tenderness, and love in our conceptions of the Deity in His relations to us and our rolations to Him. The reason why our services are go cold, 80 dry, so formal, 80 Truitless of any sweet end genial result in actual life, is perhaps owing to our inaptitude or slowness to conceive of the feminine elcment in the character of our Creator, and toa notion that piety ought always to be ly aswecall it, aad never womaaly. If, however, any Protestant, belicving in the su- periority of his faith, contemplates’ the convor- sion of the Roman Catholics, he may be sure that (he ];11'111 moke little or no progress (especially among women), until “the defect of his ,cold system gs cured and his want supplied ; until by him sud his Church the Supremo comes tobe rogarded tenderly as well as reverently. with the affections 28 well as the intellect, familiarly a5 well as aw- fully, 28 & father that pitieth his children, as a shepherd that taketh the lambs in his erms. If from conceptions of dignity and respoct, of pow- er, awe, and majesty associated (and fitly asso- ciated) with God, & certain order of minds find it Tard o supplemént any softer or more common- lybhuman element, they will find that whatever e effect may be as regards their personal reli- gion, they will have very small influence indeed over the hearts of their fellow-men; they may teach philosophy, but they will not _enkindla piety. They will find that what they can- ot 53d humanity in general will add, becauso it avoid than my own—I drove to his lodgings and picked him up without wasting much ti‘me. After all, I did not know but it was better than being cooped up in the bank, which, if it was nob a8 bright, was considerably hotter, for the wind felt very pleasant blowing softly sgainst our faces, and the farms lying along the road, spread- ing far ont as the eye could reach, were much more interesting than the musty pages of o led- ger. The cherries hung dead-ripe upon the trees; the blackbirds chattered among them to each oth- er with red-stained bills, and tho cats, stretched lazily in the sunshine, watched the winged rob- ‘bers with no charitabla foclings. The loaves, it thoy were thizuty, complained but gently, and in the fields tAe grasshoppers without flagzing still however, seem practically to answer, No, instinctively must, and that if men are forbidden by philosophy to incorporate pity and soft to: derness into their ides of Supreme Deity, thx will fall back upon some other doity associatcil with the Supreme, less wise and poworful, Peh haps, but more gentle and kind. Can we love the game being whom we honor, reverence, wor~ ship, and obey? We answer, Yes! provided wa have presentcd to s the loving and lovable qualities of his character. Many clever poople, bocause from some cause or other they fail to app:eciate the Bweetness as well as the light of the divino patare. Bt poor humanity rofuses to ba balksd in its affections, and hence the worship of Nct.e Dame,. instead of Notre Dien."”