Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, June 21, 1874, Page 10

i0 THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, JU THE OTHER SIDE. Erroneous Views of Working- men About Merchants. Mercantile Life Not One of Ease and Assured Wealth, The Perils of Retail-Merchandising--- Evils of the Credit-System. How the Storckeeper Is Affected by the ‘Workingman’s Inability to Collect His Wages. “ The money for which I work so hard helped o build that fine store and /mske that man rich. If I could get into Eome kind of business, 1 would got rich too; but this working and dig- ging from ono week' end to another, at somuch & day, prevents me from ever geiting avything shead, and will keep mo a poor man to the end +f my days.’ Thus soliloquizes many 2 man as he goes to bLis daily labor, and obeervea, on his=way, stores with “large windows, in which the merchants’ wares are displayed to advantage, a stock of goods upon tho shelves, and a fow customers aking purchases. He imagines that the grocer, the dry-goods morchant, tho dealer in meats and poultry, are making such large profits that chey are gotting rich fast, and that they make heir money eacily, without baviog to work for it. A littlo better acquaintance with this kind of business would show him THE FALLACY OF KIS CONCLUSIONE, and convince him that no class of men are more on the alert than are our merchants ; while sta- tistics prove that, where one marchant succeeds n amassing wealth, ninety-nine fail in business, and loso tho capital they had invested in goods. Momory now recalls men who bad good farms, who, becoming weary of their. occupation, sold tizeir Iand and invested the proceeds in merchan- diso, expecting to become wealthy ia & short time; but, alas for their ex- pectations! & brief period sufliced to Jhow them that they wers without founda- tion, Their farms, upon which they had lived in comfort for years, and which promised them & good eupport 1 old age, were swallowed up in their business, and they wero now obliged to earn & support for thomselves and their families as day-laborers. The first requisite knowlege for person enter- fug into mercantile business is to know 'WHERE, WHE¥, AND HOW TO BUY. It is an axiom smong merchants, that, when a thing is well bought, it is half sold. A retail merchant who goes to market ignorantly will buy so that he can never realize any profiv at all on his sales, but will often sink in his purchases part of his capital which he invested. In a small place, whero there is but littls competition, o retsil merchant who is acquainted with his busi- . neas, who knows whero and how to buy, who knows his cusiomsrs’ wants and testes, can meke & good margin, and in time amass wealth; but, in a large city like this, whero = there = i8 so much _competition, whero every merchant s endeavoring to secure & good run of custom, and where the purchasers are secking to 1ind the store at which they can buy the clicapest, the prices are pat down so low that but comparatively little margin i5 left, and it is only Dy tho closest economy aud the strictest attention to business that merchinnts can sustain themselves. A retail grocer, in order to meet the wants of ‘his customers, keeps on hand a supply of fruit a0d vegetables, which are sabject to decay ; and sometimes the losses in thiz line are so great whare thoy can depond upongetiing s good art; cle; and it is only those merchants who are do- ing a large business who can bear up under the losres sustained by tho cradit-syatem. If we look into the bistory of our successful merchants, we shall find that one of tho elo- ments of their success was STRICT PERSONAL ECONONT. When they made their first stari In life, they did not spend five ceuts usclessly; they lived on meagro fare, their rooms wero scantily furnished, and they walked instead of riding. Whilo their trado was small, 1 they dispensed with clerk-hire, waited on their customers_all day, and posted their books st pijght ; and sll they eaved by this severe self-de- nial they put into their business, until it grew to be of colossal dimensions. 5 If any man, no matter what his occupation may be, should pursue the same rigid, plodding, persistont, calcuiating course, he would, in or- dinary times, come off the conqueror of fate, and subdue a portion of this world to his own indi- vidual use. . The main difficalty is, mon and women are not willing to pay the peualty of success. It has been proved for ceuturies that only one in a hundred is successful 88 8 merchant, and this is undoubtedly truo of overy other occupation which requires shrewdness and close calculation. Somo young morchants fail because they do not attend closely to their businees. They leavg 1t frequently to their clerks, while they are out on a pleasure-trip, attending base-ball gnmes, or riding round the parks sud boulevards, and waiting apon the ladies. 5 Others take too much money out of the busi- ness to expend in bousehold expenses and lavish display, and spoedily bring themsolves to tho verge of bankruptcy. One old gentloman, who bad commenced lifo 88 a poor boy, bad, by mas- tering the difficult steps to final success, gained copsiderable wealth as a merchant ; when Le ar- rived at old age, ho retirod to private life, to live in ease and comfort on his income, leaving a prosperous business in the hands of bis son. Inthree years tho youung man was bankrupt. Ho had failed in business, and was compelled to take a position as clerk in a stranger's store. His father wasasked why it was that, in a business in which he had succeeded 5o well, his gon had failed. He gavo this charasteristic answer: “ When I first commenced business, my wife and I lived on porridge. A8 my business increased, we had better food ; and, when I could afford it, we had chicken. But, you see, Johnnie COMMENCED WITH THE CHIOKEN FIRST.” The merchant’s sido of the question, when looked into closely, is not so pleusant as many think, and the other side of the question is, Wonld not an equal proportion of workingmen and workingwomen conquer success, if they worked 28 shrowdly, calculated os closely, piannod as admirably, and persisted 2s bravely in the couree which leads to vnctofi' 2 3rs, M. D, WrXE00P. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. A German youth, with gentls smirk, Was Guttlieb Hermann Wetzel : A North-Side retail-dry-goods clerk, Hard all the week ho hind to work 5 But Sunday afternouns hu weut To Turner Hall, aud there he spent 1Lis earnings, to & small extent, For lager-Uoer and protzel. It happened that the fafr Eliss ‘Went up therw with her mother : Ho spied ber as with graceful exse She ate her fragrant Limburg cheess ‘Then suddenly the maiden futr Liscovered Gottizob Hermann thers, ‘And headlong tell the youthful pair Ia love with ono another. Young Gottlieb learned her residence By diligent inquiry : o loved with all bis soul, and hence His perseveranoca was immense ; ‘And ull night dreamt our hero Lold Of saving her, like knights of old, From shipwreck, flaie, and rufliad’s ho: And mad bulls, ficrce and tlery, He rent a fragrant billet.doux In etfervescent German, Declaring all his Jove 2o true, And praying for an interview s Tho answer came—Oh, prospect bright 1 8’d meet him when the shades of night Were softencd by the moou’s pale Light—e Ob, happy Gotulieb Herrmann | Elise stood by & huge wood-pile, And anxious fears distressed herg A human form came o'er the stile, And, seeing it, she smoled s smile ; Then tremblingly she blushed & blush, Aud forth Ler tears they.gushod a guah, As forward Gottlieb rualicd a rush, And 1o bis bosom pressed her, that, when tho year's accounts are balancad, it is found that on the sais of these =rticles NO PROFITS HAVE BEEN REALIZED; the time and trouble epent in handling them have resulted in no beuent to the morchant, but only in the accommodation of castomers. Fruit i3 the more perisuable of the two, and requires ihe greatest circumspection, and even then, tliose most accustomed to tho business will lose mopey on those articles. A retail merchiaut visits a wholesale stors in the morning, and purchases fruit. By the afternoon it hss =accumulated on the bands of the wholesale dealer, who, fzaring it will epoil before it is all disposed of, reduces his prices. Mr. B., another retail merchant, buys his fruit at the reduced rates, and, in consequence, can undersell Mr. A, who purchased in the morming. Mr. A very soon discovers that Mr. B _is selling his frait for the same prico a8 Lie paid for his, and, in order to gell, Le is obliged to bring kis down to the kame level as Mr. B, which cuts off 2ll his profits; end, if the fruit decays befora it is 80ld, it becomes a total lose. Localities have o great effect o these kindsof articles. In a etore surrounded by peopls of woalth, who purchase their fruitsand vegetables regardless of cost, the ealos are rapid, and very littls loss is experienced by & man accustomed to the business ; but, in a store whose customers aro composed moetly of persons of limited means, who cen_afford to buy but little, except the bare necaesitics of life, extreme caution has 1o be used on the pari of the merchant in pur- chiasing these perishabie goods, or he will lose, ot only all his profita, but also part of the woney iuvested in them. One of the grestest ovils with which a retail merchant has to conten d is ) TIE CRED,T-RYETEX, aod, untl thore s rad.cal chatige in sactety, credit-customers will bo the merchant's bave. 3len who are out of work; men who do work, but ara unzble to collect tleir pey,—must live. Having no money, they go 1'0 the store, and ask for crodit until they can obtain their wages. The merchant lets them have what .\bey want, think- iag that he will some time get bu'8 ey, and trust- g to the men's hopesty and wbility to callect what is due them for work. As 1\ general thing the workingman is honest, and fully intends to pay his debts. If he collects his' money, he pavs them; if he cannot collect his weges, he tnot pay them, and the merchant loses the monay. Boarding-honse-keepers are the best and worst tustomera who buy at retail stores. - Where tho boarders pay rogularly, and the landiord and iandlady canmeet their payments, they ate tho sest purchasers ; bat, whoro their’ bozrders, for Kaut of work, or want of sbility to colleot pa; far work, canuot pay their board-bills, the ln\lld" lord and lzudlady are compelled either to disnriss lheir boarders, or supply their tabies . credit at the mfi.{’. Tho mer- shant, nmot willing to lose no ycod a customer, gives credit for a time, trusi- g 1o the ability of landlords to collect their soard-bills. When they cannot collect them, it ¢ evident that the non-paying boarders have not ived #o much at the expense of the landlords as Qiey have at the expenso of the merchants, It utho eame with men and women who cannot wollect their wages. The emplover who does ot 18y does not 50 much deprive the workingman s be does the merchant who supplies the work- ngman with the necessaries of life, Thia is one point on which the merchant and Bochauic, 3 they are equal suffercrs, can make ommon cause, and wnito in petitionidg for the azcument of laws for TAE PEEDY COLLECTION OF WAGES. Contiderable time was spent by our Legisla- re Last winter, on tbe amendment of the Lien sw. Itistrue'it was ameuded s little, but 1t rus but a little, a8, under the amended law, the vner of & building can still keep the workmen i of their pay from two to five years. The la- «wror or tue mechanic may, during that period, nfer untold miseries, and see his famuly die of Lurvution, unless the retail merchant will sup- 1y bim with food until ho cau obtsin his pay. thas often been eaid that a great many. fine ;ll:ldmgu bava been crected, and many beanti- coslly articles been produced, ot exponee of the working-classes, o did ‘nmot receive their pay; it ght also be said, st tus ox) + retail merchants who supplied ghpe::s‘:oyflf ‘new and women with the necessaties of life edit. The wholesale merchants also have a « iu-the evils of the present. credit-gystem. iil be readily seen that the present Bystem » <u.2g business s a Cisastrous one to all par- iee, aud will farmsh the reason for the faiarg 1 50 muny merchants, while it accounts for the ncoess of 6o few. The faw who do succeed are Luse who are industrious, economical, perse- fering; who are willing to plod along, to attend Rrictly “to their business, to curtsil all needless Jxpenscs, to weigh well every dollar and calcu- Eto ita value before they spend it, end, zbove il other things, to establish a repatation for cir-dealing, 88 eucn a repuiation will Ly guirm. Peopls will trade where tuey worb g o LUl LR bondiady 2221F with ana They lingered there, this ardent twain, Their bands in love united, And, whilst her tears poured forth likerain, . Which Gottlieb strove to check u vain, Ske told him how her haughty sirs 1iud promised ber to Fritz von Moyer; But she'd wed Gotlieb or oxpire! And thus their truth thoy plighted, Tpon the noxt ensuing mora, iy way young Goztileb wended To sce her sire ; but lofty scorn Waa all that met his tale forlor: Then, wrath succeedizg cold disdain, The 0ld man plied his Loot xud cane;— A hint that he nead uot remuum, Which Gottlieb comprehended. Again boneath the stars they m aeide the plle of fuel s 2 With tears their handkerchiefs they wet1 Like Romeo and Julset, Tuey vowed that, for their grief so great, No wealth on earth could compensate ; And Gottlieb grazued, “0, Fate! 0, Fate * ‘How ca’st thou be'so criel 27 4 Qur sun of Lope bath sunk,” he cried, * Beneath » dark horizon ; And, sinca thou ne'er can’st be my bride, We'll seek relief in sufclde: . Allin the moonlight's silvery gleam, Tl plunge mo in yon murky stream, ‘And court the sleop that knows no dream ¥ Our heroine choss poison. In fond embrace, with many s tear, These doting lovers tarried. Thoy parted, and, to banisk fear, Young Gottiieb toaka glass of beer ; The first inspired a thirst for more, And, when Lie'd swallowed half-a-séors, He sought repove—upon tue fioor, And home to bed was carried, Meanwhile, how fared o Bent on_her doadly Bhe crept below—tlien paused dismsyed, For suddenly Thing, arrayed Tn flowing shiroud of spotleas white, Appeared, She shricked in wild effright, Aud trove to banish from her sight ‘Theawful spparition. Her father, n his room o'erhead, Heard sounds of wild confusion ; Xie aeized s lamp in trumbling dread, And quickly to the scene he sped. Elfan discovered by the light ‘A sight which soun dispelled her fright ¢ Her mother, in ber garb of niglt, Had caused the dread fllusion. They askod Elisa why she was dressed When all the rest were sleeping ; And ehe, poor girl, was sors distressed, Ana finally the whole confessed. Upon their dsughter’s decp despair Her parcnts gazed with anxious care; Bbe wrung ber hands and tore her hair, And all three fell to weeping. At noon next day, young Gottlich woka In most forlorn condition : Tiis promise like a lightaing-stroke Upon his recolisction broke, Al heodless of his roging thirst, He bought a morniug paper. First Of all, this awful hesding burst Tpon Lis fevered vision: “ Sulcide! Most dire affair! At one o'clock: this morning ! A lovely girl, inmad despair, Furls herself from this world of care! 11er body half-devoured by rats!] roie conduct of twocats ! | Wizsle one tho hungry swarm combats, Tixs otber gives tho warning 111" With throbbing pnlse and reeling braiz He fled to ueck the Coromer: He felt, this nigh-cistracted swain, ‘That Le his loved E'lise had slain, Arriving there, *pud blinding tears, He showed his proof and poured his fears Into the sympathetic cars Of that most genial forelgner. The good official amilel. Said he, * Sure, calm yer agitation, 80 beautiful s cuse, yo aeo, Don't hoppen wance s cintury. That thing’s invented by some good Bobemian, Fuith! ft's understuod A plintiful supply of blood proves the cirkelation,™ With new-born hope our hero figw To scek his lovely charmer; And, when henear the portal drew, Slie sprang to meet hier lover true: They et 1m long and fond embrace, And Gortlieb vowed, with stage-like grace,sa With upratsed arm and upturned face,— "LLat nsught on earth should harm her, A0, when ber parents saw therm 50, Their aged hearts relented ; Ti:onght they, Far mora than pomp and show 1o honest love down here below 7 And £o their dat cr they carevaed, And Goitlied's hand in friendship pressed, ‘And then the youtbful puir they biessed, And graciously consented. And while, without s single fear, ‘Their owp of biiss they sip, lel's Calmly let them disappear They've now been married Just a yexr, + And, after working hours, {bey mout Withiu their cottage, biight and neat, V.aere they bavo all to make lifo swest s A happy home—and trijdets, e Conraw Rivaz, THE PARIS PRESS. - How It-Has Always Been Shackled by the Govermment, The Reflexities of Our Editor under the Empire. Status and Characteristics ' of Prominent Journals. Rochefort and ¢ La Lanterne.” The tone of Fronch journalism, with its dis- tinguishing features, isa natural outgrowth of the circumstances under whichit has matured. From its earliest entrance upon thefleld of French politics, the independent newspaper has been regardod by the contral powar as & danger- ous monster, to be carefully watched and shackied, lest its sudden spring should be fatal to society. Whenever, in some spasm of 8 revolution, the Government—onarchy, Republic, or Empiro—has proclaimed the entire fraedom of the press, in the silence which fol- lowed the thundering applause of the nation it has always taken pains to explain that it moant & moderate, reasonable, well-bred PARISIAN BORT OF LIBEBTY,— not that wild mountain-nymph whom some chimerical Eoglish and Americans havo apos- trophized ; thatit meant, in fact, liberty to say anything which did not reflect upon the actions of the dominant power. Napoleon I. was far mare afraid of books and pampllets than of cannon-balls, Thedaily press was then in its infancy. There woro hardly any nowspapers out of Parig; there, the number of political ones was limited to thirtcen, and these wero controlled by auiron hand. This was Napoleon’s greatest mistake. Ho alienated from hiwmsel! tho inteliect of Fraace,—that part of it, at least. which manifestes itself by:he pen. Tho strongest antagonist oI the Bunapartists to-day is the spirit of the intelligent 1en and women of the literary class. Nor is thia dusentirely to the memories of the First Empire. Louis Napoleon repeated, with Iess excuse, the mistake of lus uncle. The Revolution of 1830 had turned upon this point more than any other. That of 1848 bad shown tho immenss power of the new in- fluence. To tho press of this period, the vent which it gave to passion and fanaticism, the op- portunities it afforded of mutual recognition and understanding among the people, an inteliigent Parisian ascribes the freedom of this revolution from the excesses which disgraced that of 1793. But nevar was the French press subjected to & systom more absolute, OR MORE EXASPERATING IN ITS DETAILS, than under the Becond Empire. Whoever wished to start a newspaper was required to file , &t the Bureau of the Press a notice of his inten- tion, with & statement cf the ecope and charac- ter of the proposed journal, and of the doc- trines to be advocated,—a sort of political coufession of faith on tha part of the editor, If the Governmont was satisfied with the prospectus offered, it granted what was called the preliminary authorization, permitting it appearance. The publisher was then required to deposit with the proper official a certain sum, —amounting sometimes to a large proportion of his capital,—as bail or bond for the good bo- Liavior of the new sheet. If the journal thus ushered 1nto existence should be 8o devoid of & sense of propriety a8 to stiack any prominent measure of the Administration, the im.er could summon the offending journalist before a jury, on a charge of disseminating 1deas tending to rupture the pesace of society. The question was then a simple one: Wero or were no: the arti- cles in question of a nature to throw discredit on the Government (soi-disant) *‘elected by the people”? In most cases thero could be but one answer to this, and the Government indemnified itself by a heavy fine, for whose satisfaction the menns were already 10 its hands. Every news- paper paid also & regular tax, levied upon each number, thus indicating the extent of its circu- Jation. If the accounts of leading journal- ists may be credited, the old feat of WALKING DLINDFOLD , OVER DUBNING PLOW- FHARES was simple compared to the porplexities of an the Empire. editor or publisher under Eve article must be carfull ecruti- nizcg, by the writer, chief editor, and proprietor, in turn, to be certain that it con- tained nothing likely to peril the shoet in which it was to appear. If, in apite of this minute inspection, it happened to contain some expression or statement wounding the suscepti- bilities of the Government, or any one of its myriad represontatives, thore arrivod at the of- fice a personage bearing what was callod o * Communication,” directly from the Govern- meat itself, correcting or answerlng the erring article. This the journal was obliged to print at tho head of its next issue. When the fault was of a more flagrant nature, there came & more formidsble messenger, & little man in black, bearing what was termed & ‘Warning.” The journal, at this stage of affairs, was in the state of & man who Las received two strokes of paralysis. If it did not turn shortly abont and mend its ways, presto! there came the third stroke, called * tne Suspension ”; and, for & time at loast, THAT JOURNAL WAS SO MORE. From this system srose, smong tho Parisian writers for the press, habits of thonght and ac- tion which a change of dynasty could not readily eradicate; whose ill effects tho most perfect Government to which France shall ever attain is likely to experience for somo time after its cs- tablishment. In 1869 the Paris prees numbered seventeen political newspapers,—six morning and eleven evening papers. Ehe excess of evening over morping journals was s natural result of the babits of ‘tho Capitsl. In a city whera the pop- ular breakfast-hour is 12 o'clock, where the Leg- islative Bodies begin their sittings at 2 p. m., and the firaat tide of public business is not fair~ Iy at its tlood till after noon, papers appearing botween 2 and 5 of the aftornoon are likely to meot with a larger salo than thoso appearing in the emrly morning. At first sight those seven- teen journala seemed to represent as many va- rieties of volitical belief or polioy, but 16 -did not take long to learn to classify them—not solely by porusal, but also by the testimony of popular commeni—as Ofiicial, Legitimist, Ro- maa Catholic, and Liberal. 7 Of the official journals, THE MONITEUR, of course, led the van. It alone was privileged toeay, ““ Iam the Government.” Its tone was in the highest degree dignifid, imposing, and monotonous. You had only to look into its col~ umus to find that the Emperor was a model sov— ereign, with a truly paternal solicitude for the welfare of his subjects ; that, at the elections’ last week in the Dopartment of Seine-cot-Oise, the majority in favor of the Government was unusually Iarge ; that, 2t the review yesterday, the Emperor's appearance was greeted with great entbusinsm. In short, was there ever & happier country, & finer army, =& more united people, until suddenly, on that unlucky day ot Sedsn, somebody ssked for the roc's egg, and tha whole magnificent fabric went down at a breath! If you wanted to know what the Government wanted you to know, you looked in the Moniteur. 1f you wanted news, good or you naturally looked somowhera else. Cicero snid that one augur could not look another au- gur in the face without laughing. Inquisitive persons often queried inwardly whether thae staff of the JMoniteur did not in this respect rosembis the Roman augurs. Ons corner of this journal, however, contained usually an interesting and attractive article : it was that filled by the criti- cisms of Theophile Gautier on art, Lterature, music, sud the drama. What the Aonifeur was among the morning LA FRANCE was among the evening journals,—the repository of Government secrets and opinions. To any one who has observed the eagerness with which American pewspapers pursue an important fact or item in the hope of outstripping their rivals in the race for thoe Iatest intelligence, it would seom strange that the ofticial newspapers of Paris did ooz easily distance their competitors, whom they costantly outran by an edition, publishing a speech of the Emperor, an impor- tant movement on the point of occurring, or soma highly ioteresting intelligence from s tant Court communicated by diplomatic messe: ger. But, in fact, the imputarion of official patronage was sufficient to clog iho most mercurial sheet. Even in operations on the Bourue, the greatestadvantage which might have ncerued to journat aud subscribers was nentrale ized by skaepticism as to ‘the reliability of the facts or opinions quoted.. Who could say that it -| waanot one of tus myTind make-belisves fox E 21, 1874. day’s credénce was essontial tothe plans of the Administration ? i 1Inthe same class as La France and the Moniteur might be reckoned tho Constitutionnel, the Pays, the Palrie, and L' Elendard, —journald of a less Ppronounced charactor and ability than their pro- totypes. The Constitutionnel was best known abroad by tho Monday ‘articles of its_sdmirablo eritic, Bainte-Beuve, whose death in 1867 was an equal loss to the entire literary world of Paris, LEGITIMIST ORGANS. . By what peculiar necromancy the morning journal callod the Unfon,* and the evening Gazelle ds France, conveged to their roadors a perfoctly eloar and definite understanding of their political oroed and aspirations, is best known to their limited circle of faitbfal ad- herents. Certain itin, that their brothren of the press appeared quite =8 well ac uainted with thair sentiments as if they had printed at the bead of each jesue, “Down with the tri-color! Up with tho white flag and lilies!” DBut, since tho Empire was s season uapropitious to Legit~ imists, their temperate and obacuro editorials wero as baflling to the censor 23 thoy were puz- zling to the uninitiated stranger. THE MONDE was ¢hoe organ of the Ultramontane Roman Cath- olies, aud was not too favorably regarded by many leading mombers of the Gallic Church, among whom report froquently placed the amia- blo and talonted Archbishop of Paris, The witty cynics of the secular press wero rather ehy of it, and _generally alluded to it _in terms which re- minded one of Artemus Ward's quotation of Lincoln’s opinion of lis lecture. 1t was a rolig- ions journal, they said, and to such people a3 liked sucha jowwal it was just such a journal 28 such peoplo would lika. . THE ELOQUE . would be doscribed in local American dialect as “on the fence.” Politicnlly, socislly, and artistic- ally, it “bhad no opimigus.” ts continued existence under these circumstances was a proof that the number of persons pursuing the noiseless tenor of their way without those un-~ comfortable accompaniments, is larger than is commonly supposed. ‘Without doubt the most able and brilliant Journalism of Paris was that of THE LIBERAL PRESS, The Journal des Debls, founded as early ax 1789, counts among its earlier editors men of exceptioual talent, including Cbateaubriand ; and 1t would be difficult to find 2 more shining galaxy thau the names of its later staff; Phila~ rote Chasles, Edouard Laboulaye, Jules Janin, Ronan, and Taine, with otliers hardly less illustrions. Tho Opinion Nationale was distinguished among ita Liberal brethren for the warm sympa- thy with tho cause of Italian unity,—a sentiment which becomes daily rarer in France,—snd with the struggles of the Poles towards a. recovery of their nationality. Iteideas on thege points were 2 koy to its general tendencies in questions of politics, which were always in tho direction of abstract right as opposed 1o might aud expedi- ency. ‘Iie Temps, on the contrary, wes noted, dur- ing the Empire, for the adroitness with which it _oXpreased iteelf on Stzte questions,—its Macluavellian acuteness in avoiding the censor while speaking its ming. The giaut of the Liberal press was unques- tionably XA LIRESTE. Its editor, Emilo de Girardin, first won dis~ tinction as as a journalist on the Presse, which ho founded in 1830. Mo is one of the few Frenclumen who, in 1848, believed that the in- terests of true Republicanism would be better served by a reform in the existing Government than by the dangerous couvuleion of a resola- tion, Iu conjuncuion with Thiers, he offered his aid “and that of his paper to Louis rhilippe in the formation of a new Mimstry caleulated to prevent the dawning insurrection by removing its motive. His_assistance wes accepted an hour too late. Had the King yielded earlier, France would have started on the road to frecdom by way of a lun- ited and constitational mouarchy with a hberal Ministry. Under the Empire, Girardin became editor of La Liberte, which achieved s great tinancial success. Of all the Paris journals it was tho only one which was serious as well as eloquent, dignitiel as well as brill- iant in tone. Where others insinuated, it declared; whero they sneered, it openly reproved. Its attacks were those of a Junius rather than a penpy-a-liner. To its bold and uu- compromising, but never petty nor malicious, ut- terances, 1t perheps owed its immuuity from in- terference, for the Second Empire feared mos those who feared it not. The uame of this paper recalls to muny 2 visitor in Paris his surprise on ficat secing placarded over kiosk and book-stall, 4 La Liberte se vend ici.” “What ! you said to your Parisiaa neigtbor, *“hero, then, Liberty is sold?" “You may be quite suro,” he replled mgnifieantly, “that hora yoa will not get 1t for nothing!” La Liberle was pre-eminently tho organ of what may be esiled, to dustinguish it from the Commune, the Conservative Republi- can party. The briofest review of the Paris press would be incomplete without a meution of FI0ARO,— Figaro, the most popular of evening papers, the pet of the cultivated classes, the day'a dessertin the matter 6f journals. Figaro had no political opinions,—uone to speak of. Witty, gossipy, spirituel.—as its admirers said—in the higtiest do- gree, 1t enjoyed equelly an epigram on the Gov- ernment, a pun leveled .flmx the Lagitimists, 2 laugh turned agaiust tho Republicans. 1is editors had but two commandments: the first, “Thou shalt be witty:” thesecond, ‘“Thou shale make fun of everything."” It was tho Paris Punch, 6o far as Punch is posmble in & country which does not allow abxolute freedomof printed speech. 10 an Aoglo-Saxon brain, its piquant Faflgfl his were more fitted to daze thanto de- ight. You wore being constautly entrapped by 'what Laboulaye calls *‘ pertidious lines.” Those iunocent-looking sentences bristled with donble meanings, whose greatest fault was their occa- tional coarsenoss. Apart from this, it was_ very varied and sgreeable In its contents. It paid uu- usual attention to art, mueic, and the theatre ; and its fouilleton generslly contained s spicy seria! by some prominent writer. It wa in this paper that appeared that veracions novelette dexcribing tho life and advontuwrss of an American young lady, which enlightened B0 many Americana upon the peculiar Labits of their countrywomen, and which was understood to have been written by a Frenchmau who bad fathomed American society to its utter- most depths. Ought one to forget the liliputian Petit Jour- nal, the poor man's lusury, price one sou, with 1ts ‘stapla prophecies of & hard or mild winter, based on the vagaries of wolves and squirrels in the nelghborhood of tho Voxges? Or TUE MODE ILLUSTRE, the dolight of young ladies ? The latter is edited by Madame Emmelne Raymond, a lady who has won an honorable place amoug Varisian journal- ists in o field pecubarly her own; and it i3 one of tho Gbest fashion-gazettes in tho. world. Published nominally every Bunday, it is delivered tha evening before, snd forms one of the attractions of tha Saturday- night salon. A piciure of the Parisian'a ** Satur- day Night " would hardiy be completo without a: animated group of maidens beonding over ita Ppages, in ecstasies over somo **loilella ravissante,” or puzzling out the new rebus,—ap amusement frequently shared with the rest of tho company. Tius journal was no doubt the prompter of Harper's Bazar, which was never so valuable ng during the year or two in which it reproduced the fashion-plates of its French prodocessor. A geveral review of the newspaper-press of the French Capital will bring into prominencaits CHARACTERISTIC EXCELLESCES AND DEFECTS 88 compared with that of its contemporaries in other couutries. The oppressive taxes callod the “ Caution” and the “*Limbre” weigh most Loavily upon French newspapers in dimmishing their circulation, since they' compel a subcrip- tion-prico too high for the very moderate in- comes of hosts of cultivated people. The jour- nals of the.Capital comparo most disadvanta- fieouslv with the English,—no one Paris gnzotte wving suything near the breadth and solidity of the Loudon Times, Telegraph, or Alorning Fost. Nor will they stand any comparison with the English or American newspapers in extont, variety, or freshness of news, in accurate reports of the markots of tha world, and survey of the commercial and financial situation, or in ths amount of information 08 to foreiga conn- tries. Bar, aftor & season's familiarity with the Paris journals, the Euglish papers will seem rather heavy reading, hke rosst beef and pota- toed after the refinements of the Frouch cuisine. On the other band, while far belund the Amer- ican papers in the detals montioned, the stylo of the leading articles 18 far moro finished H slips of tho pen n bistoric or literary allusious, such as are of frequent occurreuce 1n our ablest jouraals, are thero exceedingly rare. The chief roagon for this is, that literary ability is there made more of an essential than bmsiness talent: the staf of the Paris papars are, i & body, better edncated than the majority of those employed in the samne positions here, Tho great mass of Freuchmen of loiters are con- nected with the press, whereas our poets, histo- 138, Dovelists, and essayiats are upt to consider their field as quite diatinct frown the daily news- paper. Ent the chief defects of the Paris journals are, as was #aid above, a direct result of ‘the sar- veillance under which they bava lived, Even £0 outspokeu a character s Emile do Girardin de- clares that the art of journalism consists 1 the sbility to jusinuste “what one has besn fore bidden to sy, From this results an_inavitu~ blo loss ‘of of tone. But the | hour'” most noticeable foature, and one that has much influence in keeping up_the perpetual unrest of French politics, s the ides tuat a strong newe- paper must of necessity be 1IN HOSTILITY TO THE EXISTING QOVERNMENT, This idea, like many others which aro the worst stumbling-blocks in the way of the most liberal Fronch statesmen to-day, grew out of the long oppression of tho ancient rogime, and tho despotism of both Empires gavo it food. The great multitudo of the untitled ard unprivileged Dave s sottled belief that, whatever form of Government {8 established, 1t is likoly to be 1in- favorable to them. IHence, whoever attacks the existing Administration is sure of applauso and sympathy. It makes very little difference to many of Llicso_journals, whose stock in trade is violent oppoaition, whether the measures as- eniled aro good or bad: tho Goverument, like tha absent, 13 always wrong. Ttw/ % great criges, tho presa becomes a disorgeniziug rather than a reconstructive element. No sooner is the old dynasty overthcown than the now Govern- ment, howover liberal and well-disposed, and, in need of a soason of calm in order to crystalize, is bitterly attacked at all its weak points, of which it has necessarily many. Three out of the four political parties of France make uso of these professional opponents to pull down the Governmont which 1s not of thoir choico ; and 80 disorganization goos on until Force, in the form of Empire, Mouarchy, or Dictatorship, steps in, and opposition to thie central power becomes onee moro “ resistance to tyrants.” Tho influence and celebrity of BOCHEFORT under the Empire grew out of this stats of things. In the spring of 1803, pearl-gray gloves wero fashiovable in Puris, Walking on the Boule- vards, or riding in the omnibus, you saw irre- proachably-diessed people laughingly show each otber the ‘ff' of thoir gray-cled fingers tiuged with r. vivid acarlet. Vory soon you understood that this camo from handling a littla pamphlet of sanguinary hua entitled La Lanterne. On the evening of the day of its frst issue, the editor's witty confession of faith was kuown aud re- peated in all the salons of Paris, In utarlin&n new journal, ho ‘said, it was the custom for the editor to preface by a declaration of his political sentiments and sympathies. It wes genorally the caso that these might bs best understood by discovering who waa his particalar favorite among French sovercigns. Some made an ido! of Henry IV.; some of Napoleon I.; some wighed for tne grand old days of Louis Phitippe. For his part, he did not hesitate to avow that the hiero of his adoration bad always been Napoleon IL. Wbat a reign was that, my frionds,—what & reign! No oppressive taxes, no arbitrary arrests, Do restrictions of the press,—there ware none of those things in those glorious times of Napoleon II. Ho trusted that 10 one would accase him of enlogizing amyth- ical ‘soveraign, How, be would like to kuow, should we now be living under a Napoleon IIL., if there bad never been a Xapoleon IL 2 No et of schoolboys ever relished more keenly a severs practical joke on a harsh poda- ozue than the Parislans the ingenuity of this guclnmuan. Henceforth Lanterns was Luown a8 tho {0ST DITTEE OPPONENT OF TIE GOVERNOIE: but ity first attacks were made with a shrewd- ness that bafled the censore, and its best, simed arrows were barbod with a wit which enabled them to penetrate totheremotest of the massos. Nothing 14 more nativeor fascinating to the Gal- lic mind than this electric current which seems to travarse the Capital without wires, and pass like hightuing from miud to mind. On the days of this paper's appearance, tho evemng salous shook with laughter at its witiicisms, which passed from lip to lip in a way that complotely mystified foreiguears unconscious of the quota~ tion-marks. “ A certain firm is about to publish, it is said, the life and reign of Charlemagne, writzen by Napoleon III. O would that I might road tho ifo of Napoleon 1L, writton by Charlemagne I" Taus the Lanterne. Much of the wit of the pateris, bowever, uutracslatable, requiring a perfoct familiarity with certzin every-day ex- prossions aud habits of the peoplo, and their special gricvances under Napolcon III. Encoursged by 6uccess and applause, the ZLanterne soou grew bolder, and wus every mow and then pounced npon by the ceusorebip, and the whole cdition suppressed. On such days it was not for salo at stand or shop; kow, then, did it bappen that by eveniug ita contents were perfectly woll known everywhere in tho Paris world? That 18 ono of the myateries of tho press. Even in thosa days of his greatest eclobrity, however, Rochofort WAS DISTRUSTZD by the most able and disinterested of the French Republicans. It became appareut thas his aim Wwad moro personal notoriety than the destruction of any particular abasos. Ho attacked not so much the Empire a4 tho Emperor himself, and that with the grossest porsonalities. Many of. the bitterest opponents of Imperial despotism felt that coarue flinga at & man’s wife and dead mother were not the most manly modes of opposition. From him tho gamins learned to shout in the streots vicknames universally understood to re- fer to the Empress; and, mspirod by him, the most infammable students delighted to annoy with hostile cries the Emperor riging out with Ioyal visitors, As champion snd ally of the Commune, o did more than any one elsa to throw discredit on the name of French Republi~ can. In his brief communication to the report- ers of San Francisco, he said: **I shall return to France and agsist Thiers in his attacks on the Government.” In that sentence may be ‘readily recognized Rochefort. Ewmpire or Republic, it 15 all the same to him,—his trade 13 that of political agitator. In the dsy when France shall be posscssod of a Government strong enough and liberal enongh to lsave the press entiraly free, his day and that of his type will bo over. _ CuarrLes LANDOR. LONEL[NEWSS. To penetrate the forests, deep and old, Where gray, guaried 0aks for centuries have swayed; To leava slow fuot-prints on the imprissed wmoid, And breathe the silenco of recess'and glade,— s not to e alone, Each mose-grown bough ‘Tangles the zephyr's barp—stringw, and they loso Struy notes, from far lauds gathered,—ialling now Of Tropio verdure, where they chains 1 with dews The penclled tintings of each fragract dower, Orin its leafy cradle rocked the bird, Till, gusbing on the rosy matin-hour, Ascending waves of melody were heard ; Then whispering of love and bridal wreatns, Whito a8 the Alpine snows thoy last Nud kist : E'er on its wood-bound mission, where it reathes Fresh sun-gold from the Lossm of a mist, The rock-paved mountains, Tising to the sun, Hare calm compau1onslup for pensive hearts, Aud namaicas pleasure for the simplest oue Who heods tha voiceless taio their eitht imparta, There is enchantment in the leaping riik That nurtnres il green ciuldran, aud makes hasts o awell the valloy's swift-winged floo.n, and spill Their foarry torrents in the iquid waste, Yo may not b slone who hear tha volco And wee the {mpress of o smiling God, Uplifting myriad creaturas to rejoice, And calliig besuty from the lowly clod, Ye may not Lo alone. In every varied form The grateful heart beholds 2 sign of love, Beating harmonious messures, pulselike, warm— Ardent and warm—yut gantle as & dove, To ba alons; Ah! festful horrors sweep Their Liack Tobes o'er the rayless spirit-sky, And vislons of the last fierce snguish sweip O'r him wholongs, yet wildly dreads, to die 3 And ho it is who views the gorgeous da, Flooding its gladnees o'er Earth’s chetkarod life, Yet turus in nameless discontent away, Unsirengthened for ber busy caros zud strife ‘Who, ail unmoyod, or, if by sught, base fezr, Can listen when tho eloments nwzka With tumult mad, the lightuing’s glancing spear Cleaving its pathway ere the thuzder Lre. He in whoss Losom kindles not the fame Of Loly sacrifice, and praise, and prayer, Who caunat turn Lis glance to Heaven, nnd clatm A well-built munston cherisbed safely there,— He {8 Indeed alone. No song of bird or straa Or fragrant blaom, or hills sublie end old, Can sooine bim with contentment’s blisaful béam,— Sad exile from the Shiepherd’s plenteous fold. T 08E-GERANITM, et o Listencrs Hear No Good of Them- selves. This proverb was exemplified in the case of King John of $=zony, who, according man paper, had a little experieuce, which is re- lated us follows : *‘Ihe late King John of Saxony wasin the habit, out of regard to the public interest, of at- tenamng the Courts of Justice, the higher and lower schools, and tno differont Goveramsnt offices, to sea all the State institutions in work- ing order. One day King Joln appeared at tho telegraph oftico of a small_station, taking tho clerk by surprise. This official had ouly time to tolegraph to his colleagne at tho next station, * The King has just arrived on a visit of inspec-’ tion,” before hie Was summoned to give all possi- ble details to his goveraizn with wegard to the amount of tratic in the place, the number of dia- patches received, the number weat, ete. Pres- eutly, 2 message camo along the wire, which tue clerk read with much embarrasstaent. *What ero the coutents of that dmpatch?’ in- quired the King. The oficial stam- wercd ous that the contents were unimportaut; but his Royal master insistng on being intormed, the unhappy clerk was at length compelled to acknowlauge that he bad telegraphad to his noighbor, * T'he King has jnst arrived,” and that the answer he had received ran thus: *Ths King pokes his nose into every~ thing!™ The resuit of this chesrful message 18 uot given, but from the characier of old King John wé may infer that the sendar was treated to something more than & ‘bacl quarierof an ANTI-SLAVERY. Gen. Brisbin on the Late Con- vention. Anecdotes of Ben Wade, Levi Coffin, and Other Anti- Slavery Men. T the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: Iread with gruat pleasure aud interest your vory full report of the procsedings of the old Abolitionists’ Convention, held in Chicago on the 9th, 10th, and 11th of the presont month. I wounld bave liked to have been there, but fear, if I bad, I should ha ve quarreled with the mode of procedure, Thero was a groat deal of interest- ing talk and matter put forth ; but I think that for want of & propor Business Committee,.much was #aid ana.doos that might with advantage have been omitted. It was not until the last day that the Convention seemed to wake up to the necessity of regulating its procoedings and curb- ing tho proponsity oif a few to do all tho talking. The paper on Lundy by Eastman, on Colling by ams, on Oodding by his daughter, on Lovejoy by Boochor, on Birney by his son, on Bailey by Brisbin, on Giddings by Riddle, and on David Root by Horace Whito, were all very good; but the funers | procession was rather too long, and the sorvices at the grave much drawn out. I donot believein turninga convention into a literary socieiy to eulogizo thg dead. There were plenty of 1non in the Counvention the country would have been glad to bave heard from, but they seem to have been crowded aside to make room for the obitnary corps. “ Why did not the old man Brisbin, when talking about his dead friend, Gamaliel Bailey, also tell us of THE UNDETIGROUND RAILROAD, and his counection withit? How, in the days of Slavery, he and Lovi Cofin brought up megrocs from Memphis and Nashville in store-boxes, labeled *‘Cotton Picker,” “Cotton Planter,” ** One Cotton Mackin»,” etc.? How, on one ocea- sion, at Lowwvile, when the steamboat-hands rolled a package on the wharf, the nigger sloshed about so he broke tho box, and rolled out, to the astontshment of the Kontuckians, who never af- terwards would ailow a.uySouthern package con- signed to Lovi Coflin t> pass without a carefnl examination? Why, t22, did not the Doctor tell us the destruction of ttie Abolition newspaper at Covington, Ky., 2nd how it was pitched into ths Obio ltiver by a mob? I shoull kave liked slso to bave heard Lavi Coffin explain, a8 he-ouce did to me, the difliculty of hiding away niggers, and STILL TELLING TAE TRUTH when the Marehal came hunting after them. [Scene—Before tho War: a house in Cincinnati, Two negroes, newly arrived, and evidently plan- tation-bands, esting heartily in the kitchon. Tso planters and tue Marshal of Cincinnati coming hastily up the street. A lady (Auut Katie) enters tho parlor hurriedly, and, address- ing o 'broad-brimmed Quaker, speaks : ** Levi, make thee haste. 1 see strango men eoming with that pestilent Marshal.” (Levi goes out 2ud mects the mau at the gate.) arebal—*‘ Good morning, friead Coiin. We are seoking fOr two runaways.” 5 Coftin—**Two escaped sleves thes would recap- are?” Marehal and both owners—¢ Yos, yes. Can you tell us where they are #” Coftin—** Was one boy very black and rather heavy-set; tho other yellow and but slightly Dbailt 2" Both owners—"¢ Yes, yes! You describe them oxactly.” Codin—*I saw two such boys, not half an ‘hour since, pass this gate ; and if you haste, you may yet overiakc them at the depot before the tram leaves.” Away go tho Marshal and the slaveowners, while Cotfin re-entera the house, and, addressing Lis wife, says: *¢ Mark, Katie, I .did but seay the boys passed tho gate, but said 130t whethér they went iu or out. Go hurry thom with their meal, while I hitch up the old gruiy horse, and drive the poor soulsa stetion or tw o beyond the city, where thoy cau embark with safcty.” It would be intere sting to know what has be- coma of theold wliite horse. He must have died long 2go ; and if ever the colored people go to erecuing monuments to men who set them {free, they ought not to forget tha falthful old beast who heuled maore than 300 of their race on their wey to freodom. . 1t would have been almost worth s trip to Obi- cago to seo tho LIVING ACTORS OF *‘ UNCLE TOM'S CARIN,” and have gazed once more on the benavolent faces of Levi Coffin and his old wife,—Aunt Katie,—he now over,73, and she 71 years of age. Coftin was the laading spirit of the Underground Railroad, and really,the President of that peca- liar institution from 1836 to 1863, when it ceased to bo necessary, the negroes being sct free by Abraham Lincoln, except thesa mn Kentucky, where & branch of the mysterions road, with Gon. Burbridge, Joho M. Palmer. and myself a8 Conductors, was operated as late as 156+ and 1865. Alr. Coftin went to live 1n Cincinnati in 1847, and often had at his house, and secreted about the city, as many as eight fugitive nekroes at one time. In a sugle yoar he forwarded fo freedom 189 slaves ; aud, during the thirty-five years of lus active conmection with tue Anti-Slavery cause, Coftin fed, clothed, sheltered, and aided to escape over 8.000 slaves. Even after the War, he did not cease his exortions in behalf of tle Tnegro, but collected money, both iu this conntcy °| that soma. men are born laves, : sy, . gy THEY ARE N( % 80 81l tho world might imoy shes's 4 this, Wada lovels his fingar ap Dopd® 28 | sovoral moments stauds pointingo oy 24 fa | eilence, with a scowl apd expreasiunn‘ ia ¢lousness never seen on his face befy “hfe tho index-finger falla, andtho ‘s 0N sivks back into his scat amid i S Luwmbe Protond sy . Tue Kausas-Nebraska bill is up, Jjust said: 4T know very wel e Voo by Gf triunph tho paserge of this bl iy o Wl Loth o the South mud in bayitobilly . Brown, of Missiestppi; a emall, dpanenotiins man, interrupting— Do you khunmfl"“fi“! x on thero 7" [Luught B iag - Senator Wado: “I do nob prate : precisely what is on foot thors, byt T giofaey 1 itiy Dretty evident that thoro is & wu munication between thia Chamber”, 1% toe tory, and, unless I am greatly m’"‘ Purgy. the dwarfish'medium by which that % I e tion ig kept up. lCrest lsugbier, iy o Southern side, e o Brown "] 2 £uess he's gt gy The same day, Mr. Padger, 5 Sotatay 4, Ay Elaving picp, 2 North Cacoling, s drawing » Slavery. He says ha has been oy B grown from childhoog T A lack caze. He loves his old by yraotood and now, if Le was going to Kaimg gy o 200Y; and the opponents of - this bill i Nebrasky Libiting Slavery there, he canngt tyg, 2 PPo- Mammy with bim. Taring o Yeglid od says, plalntisely: ™ Surely, you wiiz ts ba | mo fron taking my old Mammy gPerest *Certaitly not,” repliea Wade, with 3 p28?” © % tone of voice; ‘‘but that is not the g; the miud of the Senator, Tt i bumeilra ¢ make the Territories free, ha Ty CANNOT SELL HIS OLD ) when htjhésmgoty lxurl;‘hueu." Again nm‘-" rour, and zer's plainti b co:\x‘lériaécuxaus? P wdiag 1, Now Wade is arguing to show {} not property in the C?znslhutlonrlu md-"‘".. To says: “If g man Carrig. :‘ha term. orse out of a Slave State into a Py, Pproperty-interest in ?h:‘“' oy lr ERS dofis not lose his if he carrios Lis slave into a Y mages bimB{x eo,” TS Senator Butler, interrnpting: ¥, won't stay with you: they uvaumv?:;&z o 8 will run off and come back, i i bossted frecdom PR o r. Wade, smilingly: *Oh ko thegll:)va you o wall 500 e s o 1 ugtidve-Slave Iaw to catch them. [Roarg ll;}ihlvn] ¢ ho Auti-Slavery cause is fall of dgms; and, when Eastman comeg mfl:—'fl- his book, 1 hope ho will gather thom upfi hgh:‘ou ul‘: ob;t;m.r_v pages, and nob maks hiy Wurk s charnal-houso, full ouly of e bones aud uneral-services. il wish somo oae in the Aholition Conventioy hed given uy a history of tho ** i 'cnurg,[" and of i * el 3 DAYID WILYOT, s oreof the greatost Anti-Slavery men of his day, Tae former I can mysaif supply, and will do g at my firsc loisure, Wilmot ougat not to by paszed over in silence on such an importaat og. casion ; and, although I nover loved & trimmer which Is ouly anothor name for compromiz, still David Wilmot deserves to be mmmha% by his countrymen, and his name mast be wnt. ten on one of the forcmost pages of Anti-Siay ery historv. If, however, e had been the has band of Mrs. Spratt, they would never harg icked the platter clean, for David was too polita by balf, aud could never havo beon icduced fo take the lnst kuifeful of butter, the 1nas piscs of moat, or the l2st spoonful of gravy. It tockold Ben Wade to cry down tho Slavery esuss and 30: hie was atwalys populas with_Soutber tnem; for, as Toombs, of Georgia, said of him in th Senate, **y friend from Obio puts ths mawet squareiy. “Ho is alwaya honeat, and I wish & God the rest of you were like him: He my what is the difference, and it is. Ho meas( what he says; you don't alwsys. He and T eag acres about everythung on earth, excopk ony sable population. Jaaxs 8. BRisery - e T ] THE REUNION OF THE ABOLITIONISTS, In Chlcage, June, 1874 Time w1z, 2n odious name ye bore, By foes despised, by friends rejectsd § For, when ¥a opened wide your door, And brother-man, in love, protected, Tie malice of 2 scorning world— Tho proud, the selfieh, and the sordile In vengeful shafts were 3t you hurled % Angeis alone your decds applanded. What glowing faith your basoms fired,— What eacred trust that faith supported] "Twas wurely Love Divive-inspired, Wheu want and shame ye gladly courted, - If such & sucritice would fres The manacled and broxen-hearted ; -If the oppressed outcast wmivht be - 0o Frocdow's giorious pathvay stzrtadd How well yo watched that secret road ! Like quardian-angels at jts portals, To light them on their way ys stood,~ : -Those poor, despised, downtrodden mortals} Along esch davious, dang'rous path, 4 Thelr stranger-sfeps securely guiled, Butled the dread pursuers® wratl, “And every needful aid provided. Deerite your Iabor and your love, Still I thair bondage milticos ianguished, Till, from Jehovah's throne above, — - . . The mandate came which Slav'ry yanqalshedf From Liucoln’s chosen Hps it fell, And o'cr tise realms of thraidom sounded Of brutal Tyrauny the knell, And Freedom’s Liatant foes confounded, 0 vevran band ! who live to tell How ye for Liderty contended ; Aund ye who in the struggle fell, Undaunted, ere tho strife was ened; Remembering you, the Freed shallaing - ‘A woug of gratitude unceasing ; Till fleeting Tinte ahall fold hia wing, Thelr tribute strain saall sweil incre Suppliants for Universal Rights, Never in vain yonr prayers ascended! "Tis God's spuroving smils delights ‘Your bearts, ere earth for you ha andsd. aud Englard, and forwarded thousands of cases of shoes and clothing, and tons of food, all over the South. I was tuenin Kentucky, and I can testify to the great good the Anfi-Slavery Aid Society did 1n_heiping along the Lpour negroos of that State. \Why did not Levi Coffin give us s full account of his Anti-Slavery experionces? It would bave formed an iutensely-interosting and instructive page in the proceedings of the lato Convention. The attendance of OLD BEN WADE should have boen secured, zad ths old Ohio war- Lorso shiould have beoa brought out and made to speak of those days when ke, Sumber, and Wilzon bore the Anti-Slavery standard aloit in the Benate of the Unitod Staios. How straugely the proceedings of tho Secnate befurs the \War now read. The Lecompton bill is under con- sideration, and Mr. Toombs, of Georgia, ro- ferring t0 tho minority,—of which Mr. Wade iy oue, suys: “Tho majority hava mghts and daties, and I trust ihereis fidelity enough to themsolves, and their priucipies, and the country, in the majority, to stand together at all hazards, and crush this factious minority.” Instantly Mr. Wads is on his feet, and shaking bhis fist at Tuombs, ronrs out : * Havo = care, Liave a care, sir; You cau’t crush me nor my people. You can never couquer us; we will die first. I may fall here in the Senate Chamber but I will never malke auy compromise with euy such men. You may brivg 8 mojority and outvote me; but, g0 bolp me God, I will neither compromise nor ba crushed.” Then thereis confusion aud excite- ment, and one of those violent ecenes 8o com- mon 1n those days; but Mr. Wade stands firm, and bears Lis State gruudly forward 1n. the faco ot the whole Siave Power. The Scnate is proceeding quietly, and Mr. Evans, of South Curolina, a grave aud good old mau, 18 speaking of the Anti-Slavery doctrines, aud exhibiting a copy of Garrison’s Lileralor with its borrible pictures of Slavery Tarning to Mr.. Wade, who sat near hLim the Seuator. asks: *Ts it not too bad that suoh a paper should be allowed to exist? Why do not the autboritics of the- United States -suppress such s slanderous and disreputable sheet ? Can it be possible that auy putriotic citizeu of tho North ‘will folérate such an asbomiunation 7" Benator Wada puts on his spectacles, and, look- ing at the titlo of the papor, exclaims, in sur- prise: ** Why, Senator Evans, in Oluo wo con- sider this ONE OF OUR DEST FAMILY PAPERS.” There i8 a roar, aud eveu Southern Senators hold tneir sides. All Isugh but Evans, who has great respect for Wade, and who, as ho turns sadly away, says: *‘Iam sorry to hear you say 80, Alr. Wade, 1t shows whither we are drifting. On another occasion, & Senator has just said to Mr. Wade, **1f you don't stop your Abolition doctrines, you will bresk up tho Union; the Soutbern men will secede, sir.” Alr. Wade, hold- ing out his hand, with & comical expression on his countensuca, says: * Gaod-by, Senator, if you are going now, aad I pray you, don’t delay a* moment on wmy account.” It is a hot day in the Senate, and everybody is mad. Wado has just collided with Dougiss, and Pugh, Wade's own collezgua, comes to tho help of the great Illinoisan. Perhaos he thinks now is the time tocrust the Obio Aboiitionist who overshadows him in tho Sepate - At all eventa, Pagl, who is s man of botn ability and respectability, rises and taunts Wadg with s question relative to his belief in the common brotherhood of mankind. *‘I bave,” sars Wade, “ always herotofore believed in the doctrine of the Declaration of Independence, that all’ men are born free and equal; but of late if appeass | Lony gather bere, ya faithful fow, O Tur retruspociive, sweet communiat, Till, in that rest vouchsafed for you, Ye know eternal, bleat reanion, . P, L2viTs, I, Arian Myths. " After very patient investigation of thesubjedd; 1 have discovored that the story of George Waeh ington aud his little hatchet is aa Aryan mythcf siupendous age. ‘The boy is the thunder, s& tize batchet the lightuing., The tbunder strzs a teee to the earil and then quits. Tho Sanok God appoars and discovers she prosirate tres and as Eo Las givon electricity or lightuicg (the hatchet, of course,) to the thunder, he ymfilfdfi know sbout it, The thunder, (how it wout have surpriscd George to know that. Le would figuro foan Arvan msthasa thunder!)—ths thunder. I vay, rumbles in reply that it d:d tear up the tree in_obedience to the law of oaturs which controls the elements, hich ean snd whi never act falsely. We fiud this myth in varions forms throagh ol the ages, 2s, for jnstance, id the Scandinavian mytnology, whera the emb'lg:fl of Thor, the thunder, isa hammer, or littls hatcher. I expect tlirongh further m“mhlu among the early traditions of the Aryan rscs o discovor traces of Sergt. Bates and deorgy Fraucis Train; and it isnot improbable tuat whall be able to ideutify Traia with tho wind wuo spent his tiwe in m;k.iu\; oue aternal blo¥, sod to demonstrate that the lsgend which U Low Bates waudered over tho laud with 8 bao- ner, is & myth ib wiich Bated is used to si the'moon passing from east towest wilk i banners of clouds. It will Lo & creat comfafif- i know that Bates fcpresouts the moon; and & wonld bo a great comfort if ko could ba i_ back to his conafituents in that lustrous orbs MMaz Adeler. * [ e R P The Talo of a Doz Who Lost I Tails ? From the Iituscille (P1) Cowriere oo Mr. G. W. Staples, too proprictor of the 10 York Market, i the Lappy owncr of s_shopLe! doy that does tonor to his kind, which are 7 nowned for their ridclity, gentlcuess, and uru_ ty. Saturday afternoon, when on the Euterpr! road, near tne Pino Creok bridge, Mr. BUPed had oceasion to et ont of his wagon and 1es7S 1us team standing on tho road for s fos minak urtil he went into the barn to look at soma ¢ . tle. Heariug a noizo a moment after going io¥ tise barn he looked toward tho road and zarma team had startod to run_away. His faithfal %% sceing the horses wera doimg what they 0wl ot to do, immed:tely dashed ' out into the f::fl - and at the heads of tho horses, trying o SUP - themn, in the same manner he does cattlo, ol fauling in this, o astonished his owner by T3 bing the kincs, wiich bad boen drazging 08 gru‘"md, with his tewt, aad then mfi hfiulfy’ ulled back ou the horscs &8 » pe! l{rving to stop tbem. But, alaa! the hor=es W;J: £00 strong for um, and koon wers jerkiog B Lead over Leel over tho rough rosd. Seul thY dogs held fast. At Iast a sudden jerk fhrew undor the wheels, nud in less thanno tima thsd tail—that beautiful tail which bo 1o all his 4067 - ging pride used to car! 80 handsomely over o . back:—w1s 5o more, but, on the_contrary, &0t cidedly levs by about six inches. The dog st g% of tho lines. & —Ths poultry propagator writes to tribuwr. " o 8sk: ** Woen ia a hen mo3 o hateh 7" We have devoted col o tentiou to this branchof fine arta, and. Wl:_ unbeaxutinx:l;, “Wheusbs i8 ia emoflh» - Detroit Fres Lresss ol wour con* b liksly o i