Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, December 13, 1874, Page 10

THE CHICAGO DAILY "I‘RIBUNE: SUNDAY. ‘DECEMBER 13, 1874--SIXTEEN PAGES. " BRIGHTON. The @ueen of English ‘Water- ing-Places. A Resort- Whose ““Seasons’ Last the Whole Year Through. The Giddy Riot of the Pomps and Vanities. gne of the Finest Drives in the World : the King’s Roads Dissipation of American Ideas About English Women. e Prevalenee of Thick and Dingy Complex- ions—4 Riob of Falso Color. An Unknown Equestrienne Who 1Is the Cynosure of All Eyes. Fine Appearance of the English Gentleman. Special Correspondence of The Chicago Tribune. + " BmienToX, Eng., November, 1874 November has uot a very amiable reputation generally. The very namo brings to our minds thoughts of the fierce winds that rave and fret against our dwellings, shalsing loose shutters as if in frenzy, and sbrieking bitter complaints down our chimneys. November in America is slmost & synonym for pallid ekies ; for landscape- perspective that fade into s dim gray distances for foregronnds fleckod and dashed with gusts of powdery snow; for atmospheres chill with the reath of tha on-hasting winter; for a general alarm, ss if Nature eorrowed over the dead glories of the most superb child of the year,— the gorgeous Indian summer. November is the month in which our morning- dreams begin first to bo disturbed by the clatter of raking' down the ashes of the furnuce,—for later, grown accustomed to the matutinal up- roar, we sleep through it all ; the month when «Shut the DOOR ! is the discordant crash into 111 our domestio symphonies; the month when the eves of strangers in the streets meet gl ing with sympathetic tears, and when tho biting pir hangs a searlet banner upon the cuter walls of every wayfarer's countenance. BUT NOVEMBER IN LONDON is even less to be extolled for sweet graces.of sharacter than our Western one. For, in the grest city, it seema more eulky oven than else- where,—more lika sn acidulated, lachrymose epinster among the twelve daughters of the vear, than like the loud-voiced mourner, it is opon our side of the gea. November in London wraps itself in nunlike garments, robes of som- bre grey, aswith ms; but it is not crisp, freeh raiment, garb of bracing air and eoif of spotless &now, but bedraggled garments of mist, and fog, end chilling rain, of mud, of choking smoke, of relaxing temperatures, and a general dingi- ness of hus that canses the besuty-loving eye to languish for a bit of vivid color, to, faint for & gleam of Tintoretto-like glow. -"Of all'the dolorous things that human experi- cnce has ever encompassed, it seems a8 if a No- vomber in London is the most dismal. The ‘broadest noon flits past like a pale, wan spectro of 1 day; while morniug and evening drift by, seeming only palld ehadows of the Kingdom of Night, whence they come and whither they re- rn. THE DREARY FOG 1ettles heavily upon the city, shutting away the light of heaven, and inclosing all who walk the strects in & circumscribed Epaco of perhaps 5 or 5 feet, withun which is feeble light enough to prevent ono from dashing his brsins ont sgainst 1 Iamp-pagt on coming into violent collision with nis neighbor, while all beyond is darkness. Tho shop-windows are ablaze with gas-light, which, in tho semi-opaquenegs of the day, throws such s eickly glare upon the temptivg objects dis- plared, that ono wonders if indeed his oo bo * pot jaundiced, that all things look such an un- wholezome yellow. - In the distorting atmos- phere, objects lose all their natural proportion. Gmpibuses loom up in the mist, in Oxford street. and Regent circus, as if & whole city of houses bad fallen under some necromancer's spell, and was dodging to and fro, rushing here and dash- ing there, with a rosr and rattle of cumbersome movement, utterly fatilo and purposcless. Cabs ud carriages creep warily through the gloom, magmiied to the proportion of district-school- houtes or country-jails; lamp-posts and pillar- boxes expand nnd elongato to the magnificent dimensious of triumpbal monuments; while tho policemau upon the curbstone and the beggar at the corner grow to the grand proportions of the Colossns of Rhodes.” Eversthing ecoms WEIRD AND GNNATUBAL; - the very psvement beneath ano’s fect is black and slimy, as if overflowing by the dark current of tho Rtyx; and one knows not by optical ex- perience, 18 he etruggles through Yhe murky Flnnm, if lus feet wade through ivk o blood,— knows nothing £o well as that ho is**a dem'd moist, -unpleasant body,” and that ‘he iragic borrore of Dante's Inferno might havé:been teusified by & few realistic touches of jthe Lon- don fog. It is & picturo that Dore might paint for its weird, fantsstic, unreality-in-reslity; ono that Turaer might have copied for the strange effect of the vaporous shroud that enfolds the scene. After one has seen the London November, he an never wondor that all Londoners who can, rush away from its miseries, and flock in sucn bosts to the favored spot where the skies have the amethyst beauty of June; where the blue waters sparkle in tho sunshino ns if laughing with an ctornal summer; where the breezes gro 1s exhilarstng 0s champagne; and where the crisp, still air braces the enervated and depleted 2vstem g8 the night dews strengthen and refresh the flowers that droop in the too fervid sun- shine,—that the place gains the name of < _ LONDON-SUPER-MABE. This place is Brighton, the proud city on the . Bussax coast, called the queen of English water- Ing-places. ! t may ,!xo srid that Brighton has no particular season '; or perhaps it may better be said that %:: ilzxfi:mn seasons fm the whole year throngh, 80 wany. It must not be imagin thoze who have only kmown of Bn'gh:gu efeo‘g the pagee of gociety-novels, and from the Court .lmurmz.Lr -and_fashionablo gossip of Englaud, that the only Brighton season is that in which noble Dukes and proud Eurls come from their zastics, abbeys, and manors, or return from Cou- tinental travel, to drive on the Esplanade or to promenade on the famous Pier, togather with the moneyed but untitl>d who form the bulk of Lon- don society. This mav bo called the fashionable scason, for it is then, when London is unendur-. elle sud Brighton so radiant, that costumen from }\ orth's, artistic inspirations and ideals of folly ‘0 velvet, silk, and Lomespun, ravish the fomi. 2ine sightupon _cvery eide. Then it is that Jatrician dames sweep along the pier, trailing ;Y;i;::ill\"u‘x:’:mn and gathering their priceless ot i i Soies about them with the air of those sccus- .., LUXURY AND EPICUREANISY OF LIFE ) :l):::cli:éeinpmn and Semiramis never knew ; e “i&tha: eveet young girls, just * como Hoiath the soft English bloom upon their a1 oud the lambent lizht in their oyes, that, tlasl must fade and grow dim with the years ibat shall bring to them wisdom of lte's fovers 2ud its perils,—mel lovels girls as one reads of 2 the pages of old-fashioned novels, and. feel pearer Hoaven to bavo eeen in real Tifo.—walk foxcd fro, BZILE, with frash girl's innocent ‘hfin :‘dé‘m.e mnequerade and carnival of fashion ut, during the summer months, Another Eesson, 10 QUKo B renen oLl botel and lodging-houre Leepers at this in which Midas and Crasus come, with their familica and lordly servants, to fill the best rooms and houses 1o overfloying, and to make the hearts of thrifty batchers, ers, and grocers to sing peans; buta brisk season for the cheaper boarding. bouses and the less expensive lodgings. By the middle of June a change i§ visibla in population. Thoe town's-people go away for that for which others take their places, namely : a change of air. ‘Then tho characterof the sum- mer-vigitants appears to be that of THE MERCANTILE OLASS,— people who come not 80 much for fashijon as for change and amusement. They aro s better class of people than the habitues of Ramegato and Margate,—less given to stunniog toilettes, to loud laughter, and to incorrigil lo aspirates ; Dbut are, perhaps, 85 far removed in the eocial gcalo from the ultra-fashionables who make tho later scason, a8 if & chasm wide as that into which Curtius leaped yawned between them. Theso visitors ovidently come to Brighton for the sake of tho sea, a8 others of their ciass fill tho quiet little town of Broadstairs. They come. not to make a sensation with costumes that would make Sbeba's Queen look black with envy,—not to_display horses that would make Bucephalus pine into tho eorry condition of a Rosinante by contrast,—not to stir each othor's jealous pulées with habits of luxury that only afiluence can eupport,—but to “inbale the strengthening soa-nir, to grow strong with. tho tonic of sea-bathing, aod to wax hearty, and Desliby, .and happy, vnder tho blessed infln- cnces of the benignant mood in which they find Nature at Lrighton. During this summer-sesson CHILDREN aro largely in tho preponderance. You meet them everywhere,—on the Pier, the Eeplanade, the Grand Parade, tho shore,—for it is_chiefly for the children's eake that the place is filled. Tater, howovor, they disappear; aud, when the fashionablo world comes to Lrighiton, to sparklo. 2nd flash, and glitter, as bubblos throw off pria- matic gleams in the sunshine, childron as entire- Iy disappear as if childhood were not,—as if men and women were tho only human expressions of tho Divine intention. As the autumn spproaches, another change creeps over Brighton, The troops of children who filled its pleasant places, who were reldom seen without the gaudily-psinted buckets and wooden spades, the sailor hats, and the sand-col- ored shoes, that aro almost inevitabls concomi- tants of childbood at Enelish watering-places, return homo to governess and to norsers. Tho groups of simply-dressed ladies, who sat hour after hour upon the gravelly beach, in tho shad- ow of wide-brimmed hats, who wore their home- spuns and scrges from sunrise to sunset, as if silks and velvets had not for them the subtle power of fascination that they have for tho fem- nine nsture generally, - and who were not ashamed to stitch away on juvenilo garments, or even to stop wide holes in the family stockinge, 28 thoy batbed in the sanshine, melt away, group by group, to be absorbed in tho world of middle- class life'in London. But, when the eweet tenderness of the En- glish summer is inteusified into the glorious lus- tres of the Brighton autumn, HANDSOME CARRIAGES begin to mingle with the cabis, the hotel-omni- buses, the dankey-wagons, and the costermon- gers' carts, that roll and rattle over the broad Grive upoy tha cliffs. And, 88 tho antumn waxes more vigorous, as jts sunshine filters throngh an atmosphiere more cryetallino than auy other in gland, and bathes tho town in amber floods, like the topaz brilliance that enfolds Naples and Nice st Christmas,—tho more expeneive houses ave filled; the carrizges on the drive become wonderfaily numerous aud splendid ; the milita- ry band plays every morving and evening upon tho pier: another band twice a week in the Pa- vilion grounds; concerts, at whioh the first London talent assists, are given: bails take place at the Pavilion; the Aquarium becomes the resort every evening of crowds of prettily- dressed women and aristocratic-looking me: | tue pier is tlronged, the esplanade crowded, aud tho GAY CARNIVAL OF FASHION, the giddy riot of the pomps and vaulties, is at its Deight, 83 if tho great purpose of creation was, that we might eat, drink, aud be merry, for to-morrow we die. During tho winter months after Christmas, the city is deserted by its feshiounble visitors ; for then sea fogs dnft in from tho Chanpel, and cling to the Sussex shoro s if they, too, thought it to enjoy a season at Brighton. ~Then another short season is created Ly those who are willing to avail themgelves of tlie opportunity of hiring handsome apartmants at rent scsrcely moro than pominal, and for gaining the opportunity of visiting their children, who fill tho 600 boarding- schools of the city. England is so densely populated, its people press so clogely against cach other, that, agin a ‘crowded apartment, THE GREAT ORYT IS FOR ATR. Never, in onr own broad, free countrs. where ‘men are uot more than acres, do we bear such Iaments about relaxing atmospheres, debilitating temperatares, © lowering " climates, and de- pressing airs, a8 we hear in Kugland. Tho humid atmospere bangs like o heavy veil over the whole island, shutting down as in s box the animal and vegetable exhalations that with wus rise through our transparent air to be dissolved in epace. JIn London, the eky is domed over the huge city, 80 close to ita dinyy spires and cupolas, 80 gray, 60 nebulons, 60 donge with smoke and vapor, that an Amorican fresh from our trauslucent airs, our high-arched horizons and our immeasurable zeniths, feels that he cannot breathe; that his Junge gasp ; that his beart lsbors Leavily with she staguant life-currents, that grow so thick ‘and foul for need of the stimulating oxygen. And soitis, only in n lesser measure, over e large portion of the island, save in closo prox- imity to the s=a: and this is tbe cause of the Englishman’s laying nvarisbly tio particular stress that he does upon climatic influences (the atress that we Americans are moro inclined to lay upon diet) when he secks to build up s pros- trate system. This also accounts for the fact that the Iarger proportion of all ths educational establishments of England are PLANTED TPON THE SEA-COAST; far it is a truth (and the contrary is not the only fallacy with regard to tho English peopls that e Americans sco disproved in our foreign e: perionces) that the English children of tho mid- dlo and upper claeses are a8 far removed from tho peony-chesked, thick-limbed, sturdily-bodied trpe that we have dccepted as that of tho Biritish juvenile, as is the pallid, drooping, weary, ‘ennueed precocious beings that the English be- liove 2ll our children to be, from tho hearty soung Americans who cluster around our hearth- stones., Very many English children, a8 I have seen them all over the Kingdom, look as if they wero trying to grow in an impoverished air; and that this fact is recognized accounts for the 600 gchools in Brighton, and tho nearly equal num- ber in Ramsgate and Margate, where tho fresh, pure air, eweeping_in from tho Channel, puts strength into weak limbs, and more of the wine of life 1nto the watery blood of children from the mland counties. It is & novel sight to our American eyes, the gight of theso schools TAKING THEIR DATLY WALKS. e meot them constantly, marshaled by gov- eruesses, usually prim maidens whose youth lies far back among the green Lills and flowery mendows of memory, but whose bearts havo probably not grown cold, though their checks have no glow and their eyes no warmth. We meet the pupils walking two by two, usually twenty-five or thirty in_ number,—plainly- dressed, happy-looking children and youths, who seem to look wpon tho gay world abom them 28 if wondering what in the world can bo the use of straggling with the cube-root and the rule of three, batthng with Greek roots and Latin deri- vations, and shedding salt tears over bafiling ‘musical harmonies, when the whole purpose of tho gay world scemed to be to drive dull caro away, and to danco like butterflies in. tho sun- no. Estimating that thero aro twenty-five pupils to each &chool, it follows that there are probably 15,000 young peopla in Brighton who como here to be educated mentally and strengthoned physi- cally,—enough to make the town seem liko the METHOPOLIS OF A LILIPUTIAN KINGDOX, were all the echools emptied into the etreets at once. It is ead to know that somo of theso gchools are absolutely worthless ones, kept by persons of £0_paltry education and character as to fit them only to Le hewers of wood and draw- ersof water, rather than Mentora of soung minds. It i8 strange indeed ‘that in England, a country, whose influences have nourished some of the noblest intellects in the world,—a country whose literature is the ripest of tho world’s intellectual fruit, and where the educated classes aro montally the finest-flowering of the world's culture,—tho work of education should be left to the care of any person.who has a mind toengage in it. No public guaranteo of any kind is required of any person to whoso care 15 intrusted the reeponsibility of forming characters that ehall some time influenco the destinies of the nation. It is notorious that hundreds of privato echools in England are kept by persons who have failed in every other undertaking, either by stupidity or dishonesty. Tie lawyer, the doctor, the clergyman, must bo ablo to pro- duce ome certificato of their fitness for their office ; but in Engiand any charlatan may open & scl]z}o? i :nd no unn‘lska ca'rl}‘y or wherefore. righton cannot be led a pictures ity 3 butit1s e 5 A VERY SHOWY ONE when viewed fromtheLast or West Cliff, or from tho far end of the Fier. It looks thus liko a city of_palaces, and i8 £aid to resemble Conti- nental cities in its fancifol mixture of Greek, aladian, Italian, and Gothic style of architec- tare. One of the finest drives in the world is the magnificent King's Koad, bordered upon one side by the glittering sea, on the other by noblo residences, built so closels. together that, gave where they are interrupted by tho streots that 21 7 run from the eeaup the terracod hills to the town, they seem almost like oue continuous i palaco. In somo respects this splendid drive reminds one of Michigan avenue, or, rath- o, suggesta to one’s fancy Miohigan avenue as iould. bo, with itu blue lako aparkling apon one aide, were it twice as wide as it is, and bor- dered upon the _other with palace after palace, whose white walls gleam in tite sunlight as if the palatial architocture of Florenco and Genon had brought the radiance of the Italian dny with it to tho borders of Lake Michigan. This drive is 4 miles in length, and, between 4 and § o'clock on a fine afternoon daring tho fashion- able season, 1s the scene of the GRASDEST POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE of Euglish fashionsblo lite,—the theatrical stige upon which are arranged all the characters, en- acted in fragmentary episodes all the histories, and displays all the eplendors, illusive and real, of Vanity Fair. At tho prosent writing, the fashionablo seaeon 15 at its giddieat helgt, and the Pier, in the morning, from 13 to 2, and tho magnificent King's Road, from 8 to 5 in the afternoon, furnish a better opportunity to the American chiel among them taking notes of the beauty, style, and peculiarities of tho fashiona- ble English women, than could be found elge- where m the Kingdom. ‘The routine of lifeis nearly the same for all vi!itorsinBrifMou. Tn the morning. after the 9 o'clock breakfast, and aftertho gentlomen have yead their papers, &nd the ladies have achioved lovely morning-toilottes, tho whole fashionable populace go out to sanuter down to the Pier, or to walk to aud fro upon the Esplanade. TroN THE PIER, the military band plays every morning, and hero the crowd 1is thicker, the costumes are more olegant and costly, the beauty more. noticeablo, than anywhere clso in alt Brighton. Here wa Americans go oarly, that wo may secure 8eatis under the roof which shelters a portion of the Pier from tho dazzling sunshine, and gaze till ‘e weary of the bright scono before us. And hereit is that wo bave scen dissipated many of the fallacies that we brought with us from our own country concerning tho English ladies. Tho first one that left us was the one we have clung to through all the too- many-to-be-mentioned lustra of our feminine lives,—the one that cheered us in our toileome Journoy across the soa,—tho ona thot was o brilliant light of promise to us when our skies were dark, aud our faces green with sea-sickness, —the one that all Euglieh women have lovely complexions, and that the humid Englieh climate has some magic art to fasten a_fadeloss roso upon the cheek, to plant a vividly-blooming caination upon the lips, to hold in percunial flower the lily of the English clun and brow. It was a wonderful error, this of ours, and we can- 1ot cease from our surprise—is We gazo upon the many THICK AND DINGY COMPLEYIONS about us, and swile at the transparent fiction of tho lilies from the powder-box and roscs from the carmine-pot, whio biossom upon more than belf the faces about us—that the romanco ever reach- ed us beyond the sca, Itistruethat there aro many dazzling complexions in England,—com- plexions which their owners carry with them tarther down the .decline of Iife than do our Ameriean beauties ; but it isalso true that radi- ont complexions are the exception, not the rule, oven among thoso who claim a mouapoly of beauty in Englaud,—the upper classes ; acd that, for one fuco whero roee and lly meet, we seo dozens where cheek, chin, and brow, ate of such neutral tints that their owners evidently regard them as furmshing only a background for artist- ic creations of artificial color. There is a per- fect RIOT OF FALSE COLOR among the fashionable of Lrightou ; and, onthe faces of the ma:ds and matrons who flirt and goesip away the sunny wmornings to the swell- Ing strains of martial music, not only is there an eruption of white pigment and rod, enough toidealizo & troupe of passo actrasses into blooming echool-girls behind the footlights, but these same faces of virtuous maids aud ma- trons have evidently been made up after the model of tho Phrynes and_Aspasias of London, in having the frescoed eyalids, and in being sur- ‘mounted by aurcoles of the palest-vellow har, faded by atkaline washes. Tho blonde fever is said to be abating in England, but convalescence is not sufticiently advanced to be perceptible yet in Brighton ; and it is notorious that the most dashivg girls of the season go to bod at night with their trosses saturated in a solution of sods, that the striking effect of flufly yellow Dair, contrasted with midnight brows and lashes, may be evolved from the mysterics of the morn- ing-toilette. Wo alwaya notice upon the King's Road, in the morning, among the pretty equestriennes who sit liko young Amazons npon their curvet- ing horsos, ono fair lady who is THE. C¥NOSURE OP ALL ETZS. She is either legs o practiced rider than most of those who ride in this Rotten Kow of Lightan, or it is her purpose to give all lookers on a fair chance to become familiar with her beauty; for Ler horee's pace scarcely exceeds s walk, 80 that the liveried groom who rides behind her is obliged continually to check his horse lest he tread too closely upon the beels of hers. Every timo she passcs to and fro from one eud of the noble King's lioad 4o'the _other, we hear innu- mornble voices ask ouriously, Who is she ?" And no one knows,—not evon thoee to whom not only every lovely face of society is known, but to whom also the gaudy graces of all tho great city's Anouymas are 83 familiar as featuros of wife or betrothed. We gaze after her as ehe E“’“' a8 one would gazeinto the air into which ad dissolved & vision of celestial beauty; we gaze, lost in bewildered amazoment that such a marvel should come to eyes wontedof fato to the lavishly-decorated facos of English belles and matrons. And wo describe to each other, after she has become lost to our eight amid tho crowd of riders, THE RAVISHING PIC{URE, 8HE SEES as she looks into the mirror before she comes out into the King's Road to bo the focus of so many wonderin{; eyes. Sho eees thers a delicate oval face, stainless and full as the face of a sculptured Madonna, ave 8s a vivid crimson, filowmgutho inner patals of a' damask-rose, urns upon tho lips. Sho eeos thero soft, alluring eyes, shadowed by weeping lashes of riven hue, and overarched with delicate brows of tho samo midnight blackness. Sho sees a radiant woman, whose bewildering eyes must enthrall the senses of every man who dares to gaze therein; a lovely siren, whose locks of palo gold makes mesh to tanglo all the wayward fancies that stray out of safe-keeping. Sho secs & very Queen of Hearts, before whom every masculine hoart must do bomage. This is what she sees. And we—as she rides past ue, carrying in hor whole presonce the consciousness that curious eyes &ro upon her, and inquisitive tongues querying about ber —see this : A FIARD, STONY FACE, from which has faded every vestigo of youth and 1ireshuess ; faco emotionless as tho features of o snow-image. beneath the thick pste of white cosmetic thatlies an_inch deep upon it. We see cold, compressed lips, upon which the rouge L cracked in many places, and where the poor, pallid flesh looks through a8 if faint for the sight of day. We see dim, faded eyos glancing coquet- tishly ont from under lashes heavy with some black dye and encircled with an 1nky line. We gee & worn, faded, withered coqustte, whose lan- puishing glances have explored tho vistas of full fifty years, and whoso locks of spun gold—then prohnb}!‘ s dark_coffop-color—wero pressed b her mother's hand & full half-century ago. And, looking at each other, we say, * i{ow marvel- ously well-preserved are these English women ! Sirens when American women are grandmothers, bours at nearly three-score!” 4 All Brghton lunches at 2, and then, aftera short rest, turns out of doors forthe afternoon drive upon the King's Itoad. From 3 o'clook till twilight, may hore bo acen, in carriage-dress, tho same forms that covered the Pierin the morn- ing. The alarming PREPONDERANCE OF THE FEMALE ELEMENT is the most salient of Brighton characteristics; and we are reminded—as we mect carriage after carrisge fall of elabcrately-dressed ladies, and only now aad then see one which bs caught aud eaged s man—of the days of our War, during which wo lone, lorn women first loarned 'that we wero active verbs, competent to do, to b, and to suffer, independent of all masculine sssistance ; whon hiordes of unprotected women invaded lec- tare-rooms and theatres; and when our gtrests had the appearauce of being possessed by an army of Amazons. Auother striking festuro to us of tho English upper classes is the superb physiquo of thg gen- tlomen, especially of those whose Leads aro sil- vered, and whose figures huve grown into the breadth and weight of Iste middle-life. Qur American taste, wonted to the waxen com- plexions, the full, clear eyes, and the delicately- chiseled features, of our Occidental beauties, is not at all charmed with the narrow-eyed, large- featured English belle, whose strong point is her generously-developed figure; but wa freely con- 1gss that, = FOR MANLY DEATUTY; for heads get in_aristocratic poise npon shoul- ders that would be a model for the statue of a fiod ; for clear complexions ; for features refined y overy gracious influence of birth and breed- 1ng; for Sigures that have s princely majesty,—no man in the world is the peer of the snghaf; Ren- tleman. BERTEA DASNE. Murat Halstead’s Opimion of the Spirits. From the Capital. “What's the good of 'em?” he eried once to us. “They can't subscribe—don’t want to ad- vertise, and their news is not worth a cent, Lt ‘em stay in hell, where thoy belong.” ART. Preparations for the Coming Exhibi- tion and Reception, A Stroll Through the Studios of the _Artistss What Ford, Elkins, Drury, and the Rest of Them, Are Doing. Pictures from Other Cities. Artists are the mogt mercurial of beings. Probebly of no class of peaple, not even tha poets, can one 8o truthfally say that Many 2 sliaft at random sent Finds mark the archer never meant, Theroforo, one had bettor, perhaps, keop his arrows intho quiver, and lot the public judge far themsclves. This they will soon have an oppor- tunity of doing for all tho acidemecians, and dssociate members are now busily at work pre- paring for tho coming art rocoption and exhi- bition. A fow half hours ith the ar- tists passed in ' their studios, learning what they are about, will serve to show the public what they may ~expect atb Christmas time this yoar. Chicago is develop- ing artistic talent ina way that would sur- prise a stranger, and perhaps even somo of her own poople, if they never tako tho trouble to climb to those lofty eyries whore artists, like engles, love to build their pests. Still it wonld well ropay the trouble, and they might leam then, that, for so young s city, Chicago kas prob- ubly doveloped more real talont than any other one could possibly claim in the samo time. Onc need not go abroad, or even to the Eastern sea- board, to flid charming pictures to adorn one's walls, and so differcut is the feoling of the varl- ous artists, so varied the study thoy bavo pursued, that each lhas sometbing to offer having the peculiar stamp of his own genius, and totally differing from his neighbors. Thereforo the Chlcagoan who loves art for its sake, or who patronizea it becauso it is the fashion ; who buys picturcs that they may light up his bomo and make it more attractive, or merely a8 8o much necessary furniture, can essi- ly eatisfy himself, and at lenst obtain the germ of that gallery which shall eventually contain eminent masterpieces, without leaving bis own city. ¥ORD. Ford's studio is full of objects of intersst, and the proposed half-hour soon stretches far beyond that time a8 one is carned back from the cold, plercing blasta of winter into the beart of the summer laud. His specialty is wooded interiors, one of the most difficult features in Nature for an artist to reproduce with fidelity. A large picturo standing upon his essel proves bis suc— cess. Althongh, like every true artist, bo him- self feels that the continuous study of a lifetime, alone will bring increaso of knowledge and power in his art; for ever, perhaps more than in any other branch of learning, he who takes Naturo for his tescher finds much to-lecrn. He who is gifted with genius works under an oxacting and Capriclous task-mistress. To-day she applauds, and darts sunny rays that shall touch the heari of tho duliest clod upon every touch of his pen- cil; to-morrow, she 1a gloomy aud despondent, the sun will not shine, the water is leaden-hued, the brooi eullen, refusing to sing, and the trees take on a funeral aspect, and sva mute and irre- sponsive. Fortunately for the truly mfted ones such moments do not last. ide, sunny vistas open again, broad waves of golden light flow in upon the soul, and, with that hopefulness that preotdains succoss, the artist's work goes mer- rily on. y 1f Ford's pictures have given riso to these re- marks, it is because thoy all geem to bave been srought in & suuny vein. ovincing as they do the 1most careful study of Nature, and revealing with jufinite patienco the many secrats which sho liolds in her bosom, ready to open to tha passer- by, if that sama careless traveler would only pause and question her. The laiter may not have the power to repeat them on canvas or in any other form, but if he has over inquired of Lar thon Le will feel grateful that to others has beon given a power of ex- pression that has been denied him. A largo canvas stands on an casel, and one finda humeelf at once in the heart of the woods, gazing throngh o vista of trecs to o clearer spaco where the sunlight is poaring through and ting- ing with light nll the feathery foliaze. Tree upon tree standsout distinct and perfect with all the infinite variety of Naturo carefully de- lineated. The large elm in tho foreground, the mosses on the rocks, the twining Vir- ginia crecper, _the ~ first to gssume Ber autumn =~ finery, the wild grape vino, with its long, snaite-liko stems, are for the time no mere creations of the artist’s pencil, but Nature’s own Laodiwork. Ono seems to hear the rustle of the leaves, the hum of insect- Iifo, tho twitter of tho birds, the ripple of the brook,—all those sounds that speak with such intensity to oue who finds rarest companionship in such tummery epots, whilo tho golden sun- shine whispers its ** Benedicite.” Another interior is more closely wooded, the rocks are more rugged, the whole view wilder; and it brings with it perhaps a fresher, broozier feolicg. It speaks of men climbings, picoics in tho woods wit fresh-cought trout cooked in & primitivo fashion, and all tho delights of summer rambles in hilly regions. Another viow is on‘Lake Supc- rvior,and ig called *‘ The Fairy Arch ;" and, while, unlike it in all ite details, still brings to mind s mind & *‘Cavo on the Sca Shore” at Mt. Des- ert, on the coast of Mainc. Tho opening at Mt. Desort is larger, and tho rocks continnous, so ono looks through tho opening only out upon tho sea. In this ** Fairy Arch™ & bold bluff fills tho forcground, rising to a rugged height above the water. In this blufl is the fairy arch, throngh which ope catches n glimpse of the blue waters of the Inke, while bevond tho bluff they spread out and carry the esvo far away to the bhorizon line. The Tock is filled with flssurs, and overgrown with mosses and lichens, whilo ragged, stunted pines grow, s, such trees will grow, wherovor thoy can find a crevice to force a root iuto. This picture sponks of cool breczes, of white-winged Doats dipping merrily into tho blue waters when people in cities aro feverish with torrid heats. r. Ford has also & number of studies along the Desplaines River, aud might be called the Prophoet of the Beautiful as rogards this special scenery 80 near Chicsgo. It probably needed this interpretation to convince peoplo that any- thing so pleasing could exist'so short a way from homo. To those who are always secking for distant beauty, these pictures are the verifica- tion of tho post'a wards : Why thus longing, thus forever sighing For the fur-off, unattuined, and duu, TLilst the beautiful, all around you Iying, Offers up its low, perpetusl hymn 7 These views lack the bold, romautic effects to be found in wiider regious, but there is much Liarmonious beauty in them. Many of them have the effect of park ecenery, hein[; 80 free from undergrowth, aud to the lover of Nature in its wilder forms might seem tame. Still Na- ture's forms are of ivfinite variety, and the pic- turesque foliage peculiar to this section of the country has its_own beauty, and Mr, Ford cer- tainly knows bow to render that aspect of Nature, : Another picture, finished with exquisite art, rominds one of the subjects Clande Lorraine Joved to paint. There aro also a series of South- ern sketches particularly iuteresting to any one familiar with the scénery of that scction. The live-oake and cypress trees, with the trailing funereal moss that covers them with its parasitic “growth, produce the same impression of decay that the ruined buts and chimueys, which are the subject of another feature, do. The same long, Jow stretch of land pervades all, the bemuty lying in tha still lagoons and semi-tropical veg- etation, Oue's_preferenco, howaver, must bo given to the wilder views or the sunny interiors. Ono of theso onthe wall would be like & breath of summer, lot tho sky without be over “so cotd, and dark, and dreary.” . ELRINS. Y 1If one, in imagination, lies stretched at length, and enjoys Ford's sunny woodlands, ho exts at the feet of Elkins' pictures, and gazes 2t the monu- tain peaks and strange atmospheric effects which that artist loves to paint. His Mount Shaata, and sovernl others of Lis paintings, are already on private exhibition, 8o some of the others will bo spoken of. There Is one picture, **A Cloudy Day,” whero the storm-clouds are gathering and rolling up tothe zonith, and the wind which heralds them is already tearing its way throngh the woods, and scroes tho ficlds.. The foliage yields to its weight, and bends and swu{lu be- neath the advancing storm. Thg cattle ing home socm to fecl the effect of it, while the eun still lights up a portion of the landscape: Another picturo representing s gathering storm is still more wonderful in its effects. Hora the foreground is in darkness, and one must imagine the yoasses of cloud piled oyer- head that have so complotely thrown the lake and its immediate surroutdings into shadow. But farther away the clouds have broken, and hero the sunlight pouys through, lighting up with wonderful effeqt tho distance. In the groupings of the cloud-masses and the manage- Taent of the lights and shadows, the most won- derful and thoroughly truthful picture is pro- duced. It is worth careful study, some new beauty discovering itself constantly tothe pa- tient obgerver. ' Another unfinished picture is-of Mt. Douglas, which be is reproducing from s sketch taken in Colorado eight years 8go, 'This is & view of early, morning sunrigo, when Phebus, having Just ‘started on Lis dlurnal ronnd, is throwing all tho radiant light of his countenance upon the mountain-tops. Mt. Douglas secms to Lave had & golden mintla thrown over him, whils, beyond, the otber. poaks glaw with all the roseato light and delicate tints with which Na- ture clothes them st her firet awakening. Far aoway on those - lofty cliffls one can fancy the eagle’s brood ecreaming for their morning meal, while nearer its base the aquirrel chatsers and the Liara runs swiftly by. The foreground of tho picture is not finished, but a brawling brook will go laughing by, and the cool, sweet, dowy freshnoss of early morning will peryade the pioture. Elkins undoubtedly loves Nature in her grandest forms. Tho lofty mountain-peaks piercing the borizon find an in- telligent intorpreter in him. Tho warring ele- monts fagcinato bim with their weird beauty, and the wondrous atmospheric effocts of the Pacifio coast have found him an earnest pupil in thair vast studio. - DRURY. John M. Drury seems to find bis favorite study in pastoral life, the large picture at present on hiseasal being * A Haying Scene.” ‘the broad bay-field with the hands at work, tbe loaded wain with its patient farm borses, and the hay itself, overflowing the wagonor lightly pitched up to'dry, take one back to the farm and its pe- culiar features. A bright bit of color withcattle, and another representing a coupleof fowls drink- ing from an old basin, with a basket behind them, are very fair instances of hia prefercnces. Bat while "he profers quiet. scenery, susceptitle of great finixh, still e has delineated other sub- jects. A sunsot. view in Colorado and the pource of the Arkansas River aro grand subjects for on artist's pencil. A view off Newport senda the sca-lover back to his longed-for element. Perhaps the picture which wouald attaact the most is not s new one, but *‘A View on the Coast of Cornwall,” painted bofora the fire. This, from its very diseimilarity to our ecenery, attracts tho eye. Thereis one small landscape, however, which has a poculiar charm in its quict busl:ny, and would make a sunpy spot on any wall. . ¥ SCHWERDT. - Mr. Schwerdt was busily engaged on portraits, and has several ready for exhibition. His ei ters Lave been for the most part dark rather than fair, but totally unlike in character ard ex- pression. Ho is at present engaged ou & child’s portrait copied from a photograph. Among the dptails of his pictures one caunot help but natice how truthtully he Las matuaged the lace accessories Lo the different dresses. The fllmy talle, the heavier Point, and the Chantilly, each bears the peculiar beauty of the genuine fabric. . PETERSON. Ar. Peterson is also eugaged upon portraits, among them oue large oue, of which tha drapery only was sufticiently finished to judge of. Ho has many other portraits, however, that ara completed, and onn canpot help but believe that ‘he bas chosen the branch of hig art in which he will prove decidedly successful. Ono of the at- tractions here is a mother and child, which wifl find its way to every tender woman's henrt. One portrait of a very bright, vivacious face af tracts the oye ; while another of Gen. Sheridan i# remarkablo for tho clearness and strength of the lines in it. It has the effect of sculpture rather than painting. ROOT. 2 Enoch Root's studies have been principally in Conuecticut sinco he returned from sbroad. "He bas several fimmshed pictures that grow upon one 08 he looks. One with a brook, tumLling aud foaming over_the rocks, and a warm light upon it, takes one back to happy, snmmer days in that pleasant region. _Ancther picture, whero the brock has freed iteelf from its more rocky, billy confines, and green fields fill the fore- ground, attracts the ese. In this tho peculiar stmosphere, with the clouds rieing. and tho sun glistening through them and hgbting up tho autumn foliage, 14 the special feature. Many smaller pieces contrast strongly with the Venstian scones which were the result of hig foreign study. The latter have found more favor in Doston ihan here, probably becauso they were more familiar, snd wo are ail prone to like such objects as souvenirs, let them come in what ebape they may. A etudy from pature, in colors, bas a pervading atmosphere of cooiness about it that one recognizes as being particularly trathful. RIGELOW. Mr. Bigelow hias been in Maie, and brought back with him the resul:s of s long and earncst summer's wori. Iis sictch-books are filled with pevcilugs, aud ho lms numerous etudiss in color. ‘The picturo at present upon his eneel, which will bo finished for the reception, is & view of the Perham Moun- tains. The selection bas been fortunate. as ho bas procured su effective distance in the long rango of bills, sbowing more and moro dimly against tho horizon as they fade away from view. In the middle distance is one of those pellucid Iakes, dotted with islands, that are the charm of mountainous regions, while tha fore- ground is filled iv with & rocky hill and graceful Toliage. Ile is ovidoatly & patient observer and a careful student. Among bis eketches is one of Mr. Wheeler's old home, from which he brs already comploted a picture for thar gentloman, aud another of Mr. Swett's, which is yet to be rcproduced upon cunvas. Both of these gentlemen are fortunate in bving such pleassnt aud varied landscapes about their old New Englend homesteads, af- fording tho scope they do for artistic treatment. ‘Tho Maine studies aro full of interest. LROOKS. F. A. Brooks was busily at work on some pic- turea in crayons, though hLe had others in oils thot demand attention. He has a_Lappy faculty of altering tho position of & head in & picture, and yet retaining the same likoness and ex- pression. His sketch-books are fall of delicate studies, and one, & picture from real life proper- ly olaboratod, Las the germ of something won- derful in it. It ie the picturo of an old man sit- ting reading aloud to_his dying wife. The poso of tho old man's figura as ho bends overhis book, the sharp features of the sick woman turned oway, and the old-fashioned bedstead with its coverlet, are wonderfully -realistic. Handlea properly in oils, it might bo made al- ‘most painfully true. Another gketch of a child playing in & wash- tab is also worthy more elaboration than can be given in & hasty sketch. In fact, Mr. Lrooks' sketch-books are full of suggestions for genre pictures, which might be worked upto advantage. A picture of Mrs. Scott-Siddons shows that lady far moro truthfully than the ususl oncs_shich the public are accustomed to sce. It was sketched from life when the lady was staying here for a short time. MURPHY. J. B. Marphy has been passing his vacation in the Adirondacks, and has brought back many studies from that region loved of artists. Heis at present at work on_s view of Ausable Pond, which is bardly sufficiently advanced to eny much about. There aro two ponds totally dif- ferent in character, one being wild and rude, the other a quiet, still lake, with scarcolyarigplo ruffling its surface. It is this latter view which Mr. Murphy has choeen to portray, and which will probably be on view at the Art-Exposition. HAMMNOND. Migs Eva Hammond is diligently at work on portraits. Tiwo portraits of geutlemen—ono fin- isted, the other ptill incomplete—strike one as familiar scquaintances on entering. They are of Tesidents of Chicago, and wil! probably ke recog- Dized by many peoplo when thoy are hung on the ‘Academy walls. Sho is now at work on tho por- trait of little girl just running around. She is sufficicntly protty to moke s charming natural picture, and Miss Hammond will undoubtedly malke a very pretty duplicate of her. GOOKINS. Among the artists who are expected here is Gookins, who has returned from Munich, after imany years spent abrosd. He brings with him fifty-eight pictures, eketches, and studies, many of which will be on view at the Art-Reception. Ho proposes remaining in Chicago and opening a studio hero, which will no doubt be eagerly visited by all art-lovers- OTHERS. Carlesen and Robertson were not in their studios ; Mr. Gollman wss busy with a siter, and Paul Brown had nothing new near enough completed to epeak of, while Phillipa has not yet returned from the East. At the Acadomy 1tself, however, all is life and work. Pictures aro constantly being reccived for the exhibition. Earl, whom Chicago claims 28 one of herartists, has gent two pictures, one— *8till Life”"—which rivals some of Tait's best efforts. Among the pictures alresdy received that are new, may be mentioned a landacape and s marine view by Moran ; marine view by th2 De Haas, and one viow by his brother. Therois au automnlandscapeby Hart. Casilear's * Nisgara,” and the *¢ Cae:ll’e of Chillon.” The * Boyand Sqnirrel” is by Goorge H. Story. Thomas Noble, of Cincinnati, will send on his picture of * Temptation,” which bas boen Rarmly culogized, and it will bo exhibiled here for tho first time. Edwin Doakin, a member of the Chicago Academy, sends on from San Francisco a picture of * Cascade Falls,” near Lako Tahos, California. Fromthe present 3 yot decidedly-unfinished appearance of the collection, it woilld till seem as if the coming ex- Libition and Art-Reception would certainly quite equal, and probably surpass, any ever given in this city, and, when people in general hiave learn- ed the fact that one good picture onthe wall, like one choice volume to be often read, i worth more than the costliest articlo of furniture, then there will have been a tong step taken toward gonuine culture and refinement. Thereis ””P]:s room for it, snd n honso without pictures islike body without a soul. — THE ORPHAN GIRLS’ HOME. o the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: " Sim: It having been suggeeted through your columna that the Orphans’ Home was more of a private speculation of the Superintendent thana public charitable institution, I wonld aek you to give epece to tho following statement of its career: In January last I commenced teaching the poor girls who would come to my home, sewing and other industri al arte, intending to establish an industrisl achool without any public aid, bat, not beirg able to get children enough to come to make work practicabls, the ides was advancod by me, and on tho 2tk of March s pablic call was extended, and responded to by several ladies, among whom wero Mrs. Dr. Shipman, Mrs. O. C. Gibbs, Miss Dr. Blinn, and Mrs, Dr. Ward, for the establishment of the Home, and thus ot the outset it was placed under the care and guardispsbip of tho paublic. From March 25 until June 13, when tho'Home was incorporated, it was conducted without ask- ing or receiving any public aid, at my own es- pense. Since June 13 the omo hes asked the support of the publicand recoived it tothe extentof £987.10 caeh, and abont 8250 in “kind.” The cash actually paid ont is £334.93, and all dona- tions in * kind ” are sull in the Home, and are the property of the Liome, except articlos of food, &ec., which have been cousumed by its in- mates. Thus, instead of thero beinga surplus of money in the hands of the SBuperintendent, there has been paid out more money than has been received by the Home from the public. The Home is in debt for rent and furniture which is now in tho Homo about 50. This is a statement of account up to Nov. 1, since which time there has been receivad in ‘*kind" about §30, besides s spwing-machipe, and in cash §43.84. Tha donations in **kind” have been cousumed in the Home, ard there iga been paid in addition, on the rent dueand runniogex- ponses, $73.4L. The books of .the Homa show fzom whom do- pations are received, and the jtems for which money 18 paid out, and from them the above statements may at any time be verified. Thus, it will at once be seen’ that the Superintendent, inatead of rupning the institution in her own interest, ‘has been constantly. donating her gnvukn meang 1o susiain the Home, The only oarder over taken at tho Home, except the so- licitor, who was boarder as part remuneration, was » young ledy, astranger in the city, who asked tho shelter of the institution, as one of the young girls would, and who boarded three waeks with- out any charge, and sutsequently paid $3 per weel for boerd and washing, paying, in all, £35, which amount was handed over to the institution, to which it rightly belonged. In taking ber it was only expected she -wonld stay tho first threo woeks, and in aiding her the Superintendent only thought to exteud the use- fulness of the Home, as the young lady desired to savo monoy sufficient to take her to her friends in Denver ; but when shoscemed to have abandoned the idea of leaving the city it was thought just that she should pay . the small amount asked by tho Homa for Tor bosrd, as £ho was getting good wages in & fashionabla mil- linory etore in the city, and it was to securs this money for the Home that bher trunk was de- tained, and it was this that doubtlesa caused her intense disgust for everything that pertained to the institution that had been & home to her, and which she always extolled until asked to pay for some of tho advantages it gave her. The same young lady wes turned fror tho Woman's Home Jor not complying with ita rules, and I sm not surprised at ber attacking the Home, 83 she at- tacked tho Woman's Home in the same manner. In_regard to the course pursed with girls at the Home, I bave to ssy that they have been kept in the public_echools until the re- cent removal of the Homo to 623 West Adams street, which took it out of their district. They are also taught sewing snd general housework, but they havo never been obliged to do the housework of the Home excspt as s model of instiuetion, and tho only lugging tho girls have over dono was to go to tho markets and got pro- visions that the proprietors had previously asked them to call for. There has becn in_the Home since June 1 over sixty girls. These have mostly been provided with homos, and to these girls, ecattered over tho city, and to those now in this Home, I would_refer for certificates of charac- ter, if it is needed to satisfy the public. The institution which bas accompliched this work, and that, too, without even the moral sup- port of its own officers, can hardly be termed a **myth,” a8 was suggested by both the articles in Tue TRIBONE. ‘While the Board hsvo resigned doubtless through the iniluence of outside rumors and not from a knowledge of the workings of the THome, it has been my endeavor to have the Board take an active interest in tho management of the Home; and, from the timeit was decided that tho Home should be of a public natare, I have always tried to keep it before the public, an}:l not conduct it a8 my own private uader- taking. Meither in it trne thatthe membersof ike Board were induced to act by secing Dr. Ship- man's name on the list, as the following-named signed the petition for a cbarterata meeting held May 9, in tho study of tho Union Park Congregational Clureh: Dr. Shipman, Dr. Pow- ers, ihe Rev. O.D. Holmer, and myself, and sacknowledged the act before the Notary at the time. Thus in genersl have T %lian the course of the institution fromits founding up to the present time. 1 do not dony that there have been mistakes made in tho mansgement of the Home, bnt they have been errors of a negative character in not being more systematic in_ tho management, aud in this I consider myself the more oxcusable, as 1 haye been developing an institation, and de- sired that experience should dictate the system most desirnble ; and I have at least tho con- sciousness of baving attained my objest in bone- fiting the orphau girls who have come within my care. Yours respectfully, Afes. C. V. Hasgrys, S — L TEA-SCANDAL. When the party commences, sll starched and all glum, They talk of the weather, their cows, or sit mum; They will tell you of ribbons, of cambric, of lace,— ilow chioap they were sold, and will tell you the place; They discourse of their colds; they a-hem and they cough, And compialn of their servants, to paes the time off, But Tes, that enlivener of wit and of soul, More loquacious by for than the draughts of the bowl, ‘Soon loogens tne tongue and enlivens the mind, ‘And enlightens thoir eyes to the fauits of mankind, 1t brings on the tapis their neighbors’ defucts, All their shortcomings and wiilful neglects, i1 the good-natured dames are converted by Tea Into oharacter-manglers, worso than 2 Fiji, In Larmless chit-chat their acquaintance they roast, ‘And serve up a friend as they servo up a toast, Some gentle faux-pas, or some female mistake, 18 like awectmeats delicious, or relished as cake, ‘A bit of broad scandal ia like a dry crust,— 1t would stick in the throat; so they buiter it Srut 3With a Little afTected good-nature, and cry: « Nobody regrets this thing deeper than L7 AR Iadien] and was it by Heaven destamed ‘That ye should be merciful, loving, and kind; Did it form you like angels, and send you below To propliesy pence, to bid charity flow ; And have yo thus left your primeval estate, To wander so strangely, £o wildly, of late? Alas | the gad cause I too plainly can sce; Theso ovils have all come upon you through Tea. Cursed weed ! that can make your fair spirits resign ‘Their character pure and their mission divine,— ‘That can blot from your bosom that tenderness true Which from woman to woman forever is due ! Ob! how nice {s the texture, how fragile the frame, Of that delicata fabrric, a Woman's faie nzme; TTis » sensitive plant, which recofls from the breath, And sbrinks from the touch, 2 if pregnant with death, Tlow oft, ob ! how often, has Innocence sighed,’ Hes Virtue been reft of ita honor, its pride, ‘And Clustity, puro 25 2n angel of light, Been painted'ss dark ss a demon of night,— An offered-up victin, an suto-da.fe, To tio gloomy cabals, tho dark orgies, of Tea. 1£1, in the remnant that’s left me of life, Am'ta suffer tho torment of slanderous etrife, TLet me full, I implore, in the *pslangwhanuers ” claw, Where the subject is open snd equal to law,— Not nibbled, snd murmbled, and put o the rackt By the sly undermining of Tea-party clack. Condems me, yo gods! to & ewspaper.rossting ; But apare me, oh | epare me, a Teu-table-tossting. e gt S Froude, tho histonan, sailed from England lorll’u:} 'E;izl_beth nknd'l\'l :l, lltel{hw?:olkcl materials for'a work on the Bouth African THE CITIE’S OF THE BIANTS Houses That Are Thres sand Years 014, Thou. And That Have Been Withont Oce for Five Hundred Years, i Much of the toil of mankin behind a8 & record of its ncnom:lin‘:l::m S sweat of the brow, the fores of mm:nu ingenuity of the brain, all combing Z“dm themselves on work that vanishes ‘befe b, realize that lives were wrought into i, iy And thus, of some of tho wost glorigny of the past, thore is nothing rumgpye others, a broken colamn, a fallen arch, i account a3 cap bo gathered from raceryes ) in atrange and myeterions character, which we have no keynote, °13 10 vy Not soof the GIANT GITIES OF BASHAN, To a past ago and a loat people they belong, their ptreats and houses etill stang in their doors and window-shutters sti] their -hinges,—though for centurica et been deserted ; no human being dwem:h" neath thoir raofs; 20 peaple passing il their well-paved sirects, save now and wanderiog band of Arabs, who nousinnm;hm y &y over this desolated province, o n the olden pays, nmong the is COanasn, flew strango ramors of s rage thet gy in & countey lying cast of Palesting and o Damascns, called Bashan. A peaple s cond fal for thel hoight, 8o powertal in thean that the mighty Jewish logions werg it *grasshoppers” in companigon, |- S 4 Surveyed thy A few adventarous spirits. had borders, and, returning, brought back such, velous stories of fortided cities, whogs Lo stono walls aud houses eonld defy o s, Sl of warfare and assailing foos,—of tha o garden-plain in which these cities lay,—thyt wild enthusizsm spranz. up among ths peo. and a desico, passionate and stroo, Gy Dearts to descend npon this mysteriou proy: 2nd capture its cities, and its giants tno.mmm’ ngozei‘n:;l{ flaeh ysus! thlnt {ollowed werg et with bard-fought battles, long & and death. e . 8 sl ooty nd the numbers of the Giant peg legs,—tho saco fnally bocoming oy representatives, who were the inally only "m'f",m”"' 0G, THE EING OF BASEAY, . remained to represent the Raphaim; and fhy whole people, from the Jordan to tfn o acknowledged the power of this- * Giant Wy rior.” His verdant plains, .and his substaggal cities, and his forest-bills, again tempt tha Jew, . This tllime, in the urn)" aud strecgth of ds. ermjned conquerors, they descend lmlc‘l“‘:l Bashan, fed by Moses, one of m est warriors that ever trod on earth.” A is fought, and Og the mighty is fallen snd hip nn%x{ i8 roused. an - e conquerors gend home among their gpa the iron bedstead of the Gisnt i%mmm length -thereof nine cubita ‘i cabits the breadth of it,"—and o glorions s count of their victories. “Bixty great cities, fonced with high walls, gates, sod bars, besi nowalled citios & great many,” bad they taken, Withio a province 30 miles long and ot orer 00 miles wide, theso ** gixiy greas eities” lie. T IS THE LAND OF BASHAN,— & rolling, Inxuriant plain, whose loamy sail gires growth to rank grasses and rch crops, and whoee borders are skirted by hills sod moca- tains, over whose distanco tho clear atmosphers throws & magic sonihilation. The frosted peak of Hermon glistens theso mountains; and northward from it ma the snow-capped ridfie of Lebzanon; whils t> wards the riging sun, lies the land of Palestine. The hills are terraced, aad hero still grovn profusion and wildcess the vines whose fra} once filled to overflowing the wine-presss of this land. Now tha graves bane in their porpi richness, and thers is no hand to pluckthen, and the wine-presses ara empty and usged Here, in this fair garden, are the mighty cide fit for hatntation and tho use of men, yetgires over to SILENCE AND DESOLATIOS. Here are the towns, with their massivo wl for protection ; their well-paved streets, r:‘L Dot a stone dieplaced; thair lang rayzesof loh arched cisterna, magaiticent temples, besaati theatres, and nimberless houses of stone, whos walis and ceilings, perfect aod uninjured s when last viewed by their architects, stand w- marred by the hand of destroying Time. These houses are built of black basalt, hardst irop, and hewn in large slabs or squan blocks, which are laid one upon snother— no lime or cement being used. Thoy arecfic 5fect thick, and, in their massiveness, bsit stood firm for -ages. The roofs are formedct tha same stone, in large slabs, regulstly aod closely jointed togetber; and, whero theroud beneath is of large proportions, an arca givess helping support. Theso elabs Gften measure I feot in length, 19 inches in width, snd Gincher in thickness. The ends rest on a plainsiozt cornice, which projects about s foot {from ek side-wall. The doors aro_solid blocks of siar 4 feet wide, 41¢ high, and 8 inches throuzh, hang upon **pivota formed of projecting parisdl the slab, which work in eockets in the Tatel 123 threshold.” ~Though tkey aro ponderous, thi open with ease, and can bo fastened with Etoet bolts. In these honses ara several rooms; and ofiex passing from one to another, a flight of st&1 will lead you to one more lofty and grand in it proportions,—25 feot squars aud %0 bigh. B this room the doors are of finer workmaosi and even the window-blinds, which everywhst aro fashioned like them, and swing open ogsixt hinges, also, aro graced with carvings. largo apartments mnst have boen DANQUET-HALLS 5 ; and through thewr doorways, many of which would essily admit a camel, bave paszed tht colossal guests. 5 What E?uces must have rung throngh thete ehambers,—langhtor thot would alnst b mado these strong \\'nllg uendxbgal mgad“ ings ara only story bigh; and in theit ¢ e foumtains and rasorvoirs, that mghtstll well serve the purposes for which they were “Arabian, Greok, and Roman, aud the eoor mous Enim, have ench in their tambesnle ter over thoge habitations, and, departing, behind thom characteristica of theis tssel 54 art. A Roman temple rises by the sids of the &2 plo but Taassivo stono dwellings of (59 st Labitants,—tho latter unaltered by decat i former shattered, and, in its o3 but fallen to earth. Tho s er passing =away, the Greek cong the land, and, dedicativg the tel v Goorge, over a beaatifal sculptor doar: carves in stono therecord of thatdeed. Again, Islaim takea possession, anc, e glowing letters on_tho templo’s wall, + Thert it 1o Go(lfbub God, and Mohammed is tho Prog of God.” Spacious Roman arches form the lfil‘;’z through the solid walls reared by gian traost and give unmolested access BOW, where eo! once was haughtily denied all strangers. PIVE CENTURIES HAVE PASSED o since the last dwellers in tkeso wall tovns’ (1 18hed, and, sicce that time, R0 hnmnn-b:‘]‘,'fw made within them his home. Throngh sl %y nges, tho stony streots, the m-l_-m“"""flm‘zl Louses, and the temples, have sleptit and silence. it She that bath made the strongth of towers Bir Weeps by her dead, supremely desolate. Long stroets, with vacant dwellings 00, side, and only tho shadows of md”._ abiding in them. And a silence OVer %5 5,y once cchoed_tho mighty footsteps—3.57 broken only by the wing-peat of 81020 (T, the prowling atep of fox snd jacksll il oy ;‘-u: up the well-paved streets into eart of the cities. ‘Homas well built, that yould 3T date many thousands of people, Walli iy oply the brambles festoon W. pires and enter into their doorwaye; qfld{" el bough bends out through the open vnnim e tho wild vines clasp graceful colamps, 8% iy inato in emerald tracings the carviogs @ artists. 2 =) Lichens, gresn and gray, wander m% over Latin inscriptions,—seekiDg, b’uxfll ' of tonch, to read tho eloquent W ich? langaage thatis now like the walls 08 is written, ouly the AONUMENT OF OLDEN GLOBIR, _, yq Now and then, flying Bedouins 830% iy, and rest for the nignt in these §t08Y nd foseh but, with tho morning, they are gone, bery in their plu:e,l ‘hungrily seek for 80 'Wu oy may have left. i Uore avecy prospect pleases, snd GRFE, ‘wanting to bring life and action. into tbe tations. t o fortisd But a curse rests-on the laod. ® usod a2t towns and colossal architecture aré “:unvfl uninjured through the swifs fiight of ' turics. And about stand as witnesses . The veslasting mountains, who 80em 135y Iam-—azd -h.u::evu»-ulwl}'-, % ]