Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, March 17, 1877, Page 9

- THE CHICAGO - TRIBUNE SATURDAY, MARCH .17, LITERATUR The Autobiography of Har- riet Martineau. The Trials and Triumphs of a Most Remarkable ‘Woman. Interesting Gossip by Her in Re- gard to Thomas Carlyle, The Western Plains—Art-Notes—Puablic Works in India—Discovery of Antiguities. Telescopes---Hot Water 'for Wounds-- Can Birds Count ?---Organic . Individuality. LITERATURE. HARRIET MARTINEAU. HARRIET MARTINEAU'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Edited by Mamia WESTON CoaruaN. Vol 1.— Vol II. 8vo., pp. 59i. DBoston: James R. Qsgood & Co.' Chicago: Hadley Bros. & Co. Price, $6. The herofc cest of Harriet Martineaun’s mind is in no sitaation of her remarkable experience so impressively cxbibited as in the manner with which she bore herzelf after receciving the sndden decree that a fatal malady bad seized upon Ler, and was lizble to end in death at any instant. ‘fhe sunouncement came when life had barely reached fts climax of years, and prosperity, and usefulness, and there was stretching forward in the vista before her an spparently long, aud secure, and peacefal career of earthly happiness, the well-deserved reward of an arduous and unceasing devotion of noble powers to the service of humanity. It wasat 1he beginning of the year 1853, shortly after Miss Martinean had turned from the completion of ber version of Comte’s * Positive Philosophy,” and entered upon the congenial work of leading political writer for the London Daily XNews, that the intellizence was communicated that a dis- easeof the heart had already made such prog- ress a5 to render life no longer tobe counted upon for a single hour. Miss Martineau was then near the close of her 53d year, her mental faculties were in the merid- ian of their strength and activity. and her hopes of continued labor in the world's service, and of domestic'enjoyment in her choice home- circle, were at their briglzest. Those who had watched her long struggles, and toils, and trials, botk: of a private and public character. could but wish for her a space of rest. and cheer, and com- fort, before the sun of her life should ect and the grave shoald close above her. But, dis- turbed by painful symptoms of discase, she went upto London to consult her physician; . and the frank judgment conveyed: to her was the possibility of Geath at any moment. and the certainty that jt could not be long de- layed. TIuthe account which she givesof the Incident, she placidly writes: When I return- ¢d to my lodgings, and was preparing for din- ner, 2 momentary thrill of something like pain- ful emotion passed throngh me,—not at all be- cansc I was going to die, but at the thonzht that I should never feel health again. It was merely momentary; and I joined the family and Mr. Aikinson, wiro dined with us, without sy indisposition to the merriment which went | on during dinner,—no one but my hostess being aware of what had passed since breakfast. In the course of the evening, I told them; and I saw at once what support I might depend on from my friend. I did mot sleep at all that night, and many were the things I had to think over; but I never passed a more tranquil and casy night.” Miss Martineau returned immediately to her beloved home at Ambleside, and set about the work of puttieg her affairs in order for the sol- emn event that was now evermore to confront Ler. Information of the coming change was cheerfully and tenderly imparted to ber fnends, her business was scrupulously ar- rnged with bLer executor, and then she addressed herself to a task which she had felt from her girlhood was sacredly demanded of ber, as of all who bave passed through a life of more than ordinary distination and vicissi- tude. Tlis last was the coinposition of her Autibiograpby,—a work which eungaged her Teisure for a ‘term of three months. As the memoir was drawinz toward a_conclusion, she st down in it the following striking reflections | of the mood of her mind: “Ihave now had three months’ experience of the fact of con- £tant expectation of death; and the result is, as much regret as 2 ratfonal person can admit at the absurd waste of time, thousht, and.ererey, that I have been guilty of in the course of my life in Gwelling on the subject of death. . . . Under this close experience, I find death in prospect the simplest thing in the world,—a thing not to be learcd or regretted, or tomet excited about in any way. Iattribate this very much, however, to the nature of my viewsof deatk. . . . Under the eternal laws of the Universe I came iuto being, and_under them [ have lived a life 5o full that its fullness is equiv- atent to length. The age in which I have lived isan infant one in the history of our globe and of Man; and - the consequence is a great waste in the vears and the powers of the wisest of us; and, in_the case of one so limited in powers, and &0 circumseribed by early un- favorable influences, as myself, the wasteis something deplorabie. But we have oniv to- accept tie conditions in which we find ourselves, and to make thebest of them. . . . Be- sides that I never drenm of wishing that any- thine were otherwise than as it is, I am proudly satisfied to have donme with life. Ihavehada noble share of it,andI desire no more. I neither wish to live longer here, nor to tind life again clsewhere.” (n aletter toa friend, dated about the time of the aborve. she declared: * My life has been a full and vivid one,—so that I consider myself avery old woman indeed, and um abundantly satisfled with my share in the Universe (even if that were of any real conscquence). 1 have not the slightest anxiety about dying,—not the elightest reluctance to it. I emjoy looking on and seeing our world unaer the operation of 8 1aw of progress; and 1 really do not feel that my dropping out ¢f it, now or a few years heuce, is a matter worth drawing attention to at all,—my own or another's.” s The Autobiography was "finished,—wis . even put into print; the portraits of herself were Prepared to sccompany it; a decisive arrange- ment was made with the friend who was to edit #, aud with the English and Amerjcan publish- €r5 who were to cast it into circalation: and it was then placed in safe keeping to await her de- cease. A biographieal sketch was also written, 10 appear in the Daily News immediately upon Ler death, which itdid two days alter the event. But, when all worldly matters had been thus calmly disposed of, in order to spare her sur- vivors trouble and perplexity, and 1o prevent the smallest interest suffering from ber depart- ure st any moment, life was unexpectedly pro- longed ffom day to day. until more than twen- ty-one years had been fulfilled, and the ripe age which her fricnds bad desired for her had been attsined. During all this long period she con- tinued to dwell a8 under_the uplifted. hand of death, whose stroke would probably fall without especial warning; yet the sweet serenivy of her beace was_never disturbed. Her merry, child- like lingh rang ont as frequenily and Jjoyously ” as before; her pursnits, al- Wars rational, and busy, and _ profit- able, were nninterrupted; and friends dwelling or visitme in her retired and attractive home read in her face sud her manner the perpetusl content of a spirit which had existed bat to serveand to bless others. In this enduring state of cheerfulness was vividly exemplified, 28 ¥as stated in the beginning, the exalted charac- ter of Harriet Martinean,—her courage, her Teasonableness, her submission, and her unsel- fishness,—traits all of which were combined in wonderul strength in her intellectuat and moral nsture. ‘The life which had led up to this beautiful tonsammation was begun st Norwich, England, June 2, 1802, The household into which it en- .at'df"s n‘:?l‘ o{l’léhomu Martnean, a dfig& atof a ly of Hucuenot refugees W Irom France on the revocation of the Edict of S M Sl 1 et 1 prospenoas bt . I¥ life, en: prospero! el mannc,[auumrerol ‘bombazine and camlet; and her mother was the cldest daoghter of a sugar-refiner at Newcastle- won-Tyne. The former is described by her 2s | bt ber deafness soo baving been “ humble, simple, upright, sell-de- nying, affectionate,” and capable of making up for the delects of carly education by natural abilities, The latter, we_infer indirecaly from ihe Autobiosraphy, was like her husband. am- bitious for the hirhest welfare of her children, and resolate i giving them the best opportu. nities for cducation, but stern, imperions, and undemonstrative in her demeanor toward them, and toward the others of her houschold. Harrict, the sixth of a fmily of cight little oues, was a delicate, alling child, with® sensitive aerves, which were fatally impaired by injudi- cious treatment. She was born destitute of the sense of smell, and with the sense of taste ex- ceedingly imperfect, while toneclect. during in- fancy she afterward ascrived the injury to ber hearing which in late sirlhood became a total deprivation. The misery of her young life re- sulting from acute and” overwrouzht sensibili- ties, utterly misunderstood and mistreated, was £0 extreme that, at 5 yearsof age, she was con- stantly longing for héavenand frequently plot- ting suicide. In this time of babyhood, she once went 6o far as to_enter the kitchen 'in search of a knife to cut her throat; but the presence of the servants defeated the' purpose. The un- happy child was gifted with a_large intellect, a vivid imagination, and an_ aflectionate heart, but was deplorably wanting in_selt-csicem: and, deprived of the sympathy and love she craved, and stimulated” to orecocious thought by being driven in upon hersclf for solace and communion, her life was unspeakably wretched. Her pathetic record declares, * I was ashamed of my habits of miscry, and especially o crying. 1 tried for along course of ycars—I should think from about 8 10 14—to rass a single day without crying. 1 was a persevering child, and I know I tried; but I failed. 1 gave up at last; and, durme all those years, I never passed a day without cryine.’ Instances of the early devel- opment of her thought are cited in ber love of “Paradise Lost,” which she read constantly when but 7; and i _her spontaneous remark on the birth of a sister when she was three years older, that now she should have the happiness of watching *the erowth of a mind trom the begianing.” Evidences of the disordered condition of ber nerves are also given in the statement that, when the great comet of 1811 was blazing in the heavens, and she was faken. with the rest of the family, night after night. to the housctop, to view the phenomenon, her extitement was 50 intense she mever ouce was able to see it, though star- ing with all ber mizht at_the place in the sky where the rest discovered the brilliant object. Arain the same experience was repeated when, a year later, she was first taken in sight of the sta. It was hours before Ler ormanof vision communicated to the agitated brain the presence within the Lorizon of the stupendous ocean. The girl’s education was conducted at home, under tke supervision of oléer brothersand a sister, until she was 11, after which time she was for two vears a pupil_in an excellent sciool primarily iniended 1or boys. Then followed another interval of home-teaching, succceded by above a year’s attendance at a family boarding- schopl keptbrarelativeia Bristol. It was here that Harriet was iirst surrounded by an atmosphere of tenderness, and her whoic being quickiy expanded, and took on a new significance and beauty, under its blessed influeie. Her health +was invigorated, and the eutire expression of her figure improved. One of her schoolmates savs Of ber at tuis period: “She was graver and lanebed more rarely than any youug person I ever knew. Her face was plaie, and (sou will scarcely telieve it) she had no light in the coun- tenance, 1o expression to rodcein the ieatures. The low brow and rather large under lip - creased the effect of her natural seriousness of 100k, and did her much injustice.” Miss Marti- neau herself says: “When I left Bristol, I was paleasaghost, and as thin as possible, end 5till Tery frownine and repulsive-looking, but ¥et with a comparatively open countenance.” She returned bome in 1810, and there contin- ued her studies under private masters until she was20. She had then a good knowledse of Latin and French. to which was aftcrward added Jtahan and German: ehe was a_skillfu! pianist, comjielled herto relinquish the aceomplishment; and, in_mathematics end other branches of educatizn, sbe bad progressed a5 far as hier brothers, who were trained i the universitice. Her life as a youns lag; cupicd with the usual round 6f dom et slie manared to command time daily for | Berwous inteilectual labor. At this period sh had a strong passion for translatine from Latin ard to her practice in that pursuit she ch was due of her ces, and she Liad early adopted withi tervor the creed of the Unitarians, whi-h was that pro- | fessed by ber family. She was also a diligent | student of the Scriptures, and spent much time i in meditating upon the- mysterous prohlems ot human destiny. Her first piete ot writine that | appeared in print was a paper eatitled ** Female | Writers on Practical Diviis It w: pro- dused when she was only 19, and was pub- ed in the Monthly Repository, u “ poorlittle nitarian pericdical.” I concern in its au- thorsiip was kept a secret in hier own brenst until betrayed under the following circum- stances: She was invited to tea at the house of her oilest brother—whom, for Lis peculiar vir- 1ues, she rezarded with e<pecial Teverence—on the Sunday when the Lepasitory containing her essay had just come to hand. Tea being over, the brother said: - Come, now |we guote from the Autobiozraphyl, we have had plenty of tall I will read vou somethinz:’ and he beld out his Land for the new Lepusitory. After glanving at at it, he exclaimed, * They have got a new hand here. Listen!” After a paragraph he reveated, “Ah! this is a new band: they have had notiing so good as this for a Iong while.” (It would be impossible to convey to any who do Dol know the Monthly Reposiiory of that day how very small a compliment this was.) 1was silent, of At the end of the first column, he ex- d about the style, looking at me in some wonder at iny being as still as 2 mouse. Next (and well I remember his tone, and thrill toit still), his words were, * What a fine sentenve that is! Why, do you not think so#’ I mumbled out, sillily chough, that it did not scem anvthing particular. — “'Then,’ snid he, *you were not. lis- tening. 1 will read it agein. There now! As he still got nothing out of me, he turned round upon me, 3s we sat sice by side on the soig, with ¢Harrict, what is the matter with you? I never knew vou s slow to praise anything before.” I replied, in utter confusion, ‘I'never could baffle anybodv. The truth is, that paper is mine!’ He made no reply. read on in silence, and spoke nomore till I was on my feet tocomeaway. He then laid his hand oo my shoulder, and grayely (calling me ‘dear’ for the first time). * Now, dear, leave it to the other women to make shirts and arn stockings: and do you devote yourself to this.” I went home in 2 sort of dream, su thatthe squares of the pavement scemcd to float before my eves. That evening made me an authoress.” Three years later, a series of calamities de- scending upon Harriet and her family irrevoca- blx decided the question of her future. In 1824 her eldest brother died of consumption, and arief av his loss, aggravated by pecuniary em- barrassments, souu after caused the death of ber father. The one love-dream which skied its rosy light over Harrict's pathway was. in the midst of these afllictions, rudely dissolved. An attachment whicl bad sprung up between Ler- self and a student-friend of ber brother James had been disturbed by the meddling of an ofti- cious friend, but was, after the death of her father, again cemented. The pain of her previ- ous estrangement bad, however. so worn upon lier tover that he became insanc, and, atter moanths of bodily and mental illness, sank into the grave. It’is the testimony of Harriet's friends that she bore these severe sorrows with uncomplainiog fertitude, yet her heaith gave way under the infliction, and several vears assed ere it recovered its tone. In I ittle property, suflicienl for their their sup- port, which had been left to hersclf and sisters, was lost in the failure of a mercantile house, aud the two still unmarried ones were forced to seek some rueans of livelihood. Miss Martineau had already been using her pen with considerable facility, and naturally turued to it as the stafl on which to rel. first. volume, the : Written in a fortnight, with the exception of the opening story, was publishea in the spring of 1530. During the winter previous she was con- stantly oceupied writing escays and reviews. %1 had no literary acquaintance or connection whatever,” she says, “-and I could not get any- o I wrote even looked at; so that every- thing weut into the Repository at last. . . . My own heart was often very near sinking, as were my bodily forces, and with reason. During the dayiight hours of that winter 1was poring over five fancy-work, by which alone I _carned aoy money; and, aiter tea, I went u%el.'urs to my room for my day’s literary labor. The quan- tity I wrote, at prodigious expenditureof nerve, surprises me 10w, after m‘y’ long breakine-in to Bard work, Every night that winter, I belicve, I was writing till 2, or even 3, in the morning,— obeying always the rule of the house: of being present at the breakfast-table as the clock struceS. Many a time | was in such a state of nervous exhaustion acd distress that I was obliged to walk to and fro in the room betore I could put on paper the last line of & page, or the Jast balf sentence of an essay Of review.” The literary work which Miss Martineau zc- complished during the first twelve imonths in which she was striving to make it vield ber a living amounted to the following; * Traditions of Palestine ™ (except the first tale): * Five Years of Youth™; seven tracts for Haulston; essay on Baptism; three Theological Essavs, to which prizes were awarded by the Unitarian i 3 d fifty-two articles for the fim!hlsoc“y“qn ito /. Ix{ addition to this labor, she tells us: * In that season of poverty, 1 made and mended everything worey { was the person to say them. stockings while reading aloud to my mother and aunt, and never_sitting idle a moment. I anny add that I made considerable progress in the study of German that year.” Iu the autumn of 1831 Miss Martincau deter- miued to write a series of storics which should _illustrate the principles of Po- litical Economy. Realizing the formidable natare of the undertaking, and the great chances against its success, - she strength- encd hersclf fu the beginning by making cer- tain resolutions, from which she promised her- sclf that no power on carth should draw her away. “Iwas resolved,” she says, “that, in the first place, the thing should be doue. Next, Iresolved to fustain my health under the sus- pense, if possible, by keepinz up a mood of steady determination and unfaltering hove. Next, I resolved never to lose my temper in the whole course of the businesa.” “All the power that could be fained by moral determination was needed to carry through this project; and the history of the severe and protracted triais which the author was oblized to undergo in its vrogress forms one of the most interesting chapters of the Autobiograph She had planned a series which was to include thirty-four volumes, one of which was to appear cvery month pntil the whole number was con- cluded. In December she went up to London to find & publisher,and for days plodded on foot—being too poor 1o pay carriage-fare— through the fog, and rain, and mud, from one publishing-house to another. Discour- agement everywhere met her, until st last, by agreeing to very hard terms, she induced a bookseller to risk something in printing the serics. On the day when this business was terminated, she was 5o exhausted with anxicty and weariness that she was barely able to ac- complish the walk to her lodgings, and reeled from very middiness, like one who is Intoxicated. After tea on the same evening she began writing the preface to the contemplated work, and fin- isbed it just after-the clock had struck 2. Chilled, spent, and hungry, she dared not go to bed from dread of the reaction ot herovertasked forces. Two bitter hours sbe sat in her solitary chamber, meditating upon the scheme on which all her hopes were concentratcd. crumbled,” she states, “Iput it tegether till vothing but dust and ashes remalned: and, when the Jamp went out, 1 lighted the chamber- candle:'but at last it Was_DCLesSary to g0 to bed, and at 4 o'clock I went, aiter eryiag for two hours; with my fect on the fexder. I cried in bed 116, when 1 fell asleep; but 1as at the breakfast-tatle b; half-past 8, and ready for the work of the day.” The first number of the series was pub- lished _carly in February, and in ten days 5.00° copies bad been demanded. From that day, Feb. 10, 1832, Miss Martineau dated her release from pecuniary care. Ever after she had abundant literary employment, and there was no want of puolishers ready to or the pri tiing her ré thepeople. She now removed to Loadon, wiich was her_home for_the following The serivs was inished in Ausust, oved an extraordinary suce vitlior fame and the foun e fortu: d that, in the cusaing v yéars, Miss Martineau carned by b 50,000, ' The suin s not large ecunsideriag the opportunity for gains within 1% f the author: Lut money was onsideration in her liferary She had a most solemn sense of the Tespon: o an author, and never wrote un- less to utter what she felt was important for some portion of the public to hear, and no ecuniary considerations modified or_restrained on o1 what she felt it a duty to say. s of work were through iife very systematic. and her hours were reguiarly appor- tioned to the tasks of cach day. enabliug her to accomplish anenormous amount. While writ- Political Economy Series, she rezularly edat 7or balfpast. and, sitting down K, wrote steadily untii 2. From this time until 4 she received visits, then walked tor an hour or more ina_ neiwhboring park. and, re- turning, dressed for the cvening, and invariably dined out, oiten - attend«d 4 party or tvo afierward. Finally, before retirinz, she read until 2 v'elock in the morning, ailowing only five or five and a half hours for sleep: To main- tain a laborious life like this would try the strongest physique, and Miss Martineau com- pletely broke down hersat the end of seven yea In ailusion to the continual remon- strances of friends on the subject of over-work, she writes in the Autobjography: -t Autborshij has never been with mc e matter of choice. have not done it for amuscment, or for money, orfor fame, or for any reason but because I could not Lelp it. Things were pressing to be said, and there was morc or less cvidence that T In such a case, it was always impossible to decline the duty for such reasons as that I should like more leisurc, or more amusement, or more slecp, or more enything whatever. If my life had depended on” more lejsure and holiday, I conld not have taken it. What wanted to be said must be said, for the sake of the many, whatever might he the consequences to the one ‘worker coucerned.” When. with the publication of the first three or four numbers of the Poiitical Economy Serics, Miss Martineau had become 2 popular author, her society was sought by the satellites in the fashionable and literary circles of Lon- don. But not iu the least were her feelines or ber manuers affected by_the sudden rise from obscurity to_ renown. The lofty principles which guided her action could no more be moved by the flattery of success than by the fear of failure or the sting of detraction. When entreated by fricuds to improve her style of living, in deferenceto the fine society iuto which she wus snddenly lifted, she repiied that, her expenses being properiy adjusted Lo her income, there was no cXeuse for changing. Those who really gared for her would visit her in 2 bumble Lome in a narrow sireet, and all the of the world might stay away. This dignificd inde- pendence” of gpirit was never in any degree altered. For rest afteran arduous stretchof continuous labor, Miss Martineau visited the United States in the autumu of 1334 She spent two years in this country. during the chief part of which she wasa weldome guest in the most cultivated homes within its boundaries. In one of her had plainly ex- et,well know- aversion, politiciausand plant- crs iu the South opened their houses to her, and gave her every aid 10 a complete understanding of the working of the institution in_Amenca. All wen: well until, in the winter of 1535, Miss Martineau attended 2 meeting of women-Aboli: tionists at the house ol a private citizen in Bos- ton. She was there asked if she would not in a few words express her sympathy with the cause for which the assemblare was working. Accord- ing to her own statement, it was one of the most painful sacrifices that in her experierice had been solicited. She was well aware of the obloguy the action would bring down upon ber, yet she ‘was not one to allow personal cousideratious to weigh against the performance of a duty. She spoke the desired words, and thenceforth was subjected to every sort of abuse so lung as she sojourned in the country. It was a time when ihe asitation on the slavery question was hottest, and free speech on the anti-slavery sige was punished with bitter persceution. = The right or the wrong of Miss Martincau's pro- cedure cannot be settled by those who have lived remote from the scene and the period, yet that she kept true to her most sacred contvie- tions canuot ve doubted by the impartial reader of her Autobioraphy. [ r return to England, Miss Martineau published two volumes containing her views of Amcrican institutions and society. They heightened the hostility treasured against her on this side of the water, but_this was accepted with the same equanimity with whizh she en- dured all cousequences of conscientious action. Literary work now again crowded her days un- til, in 1333, she was prostrated with a disease which for six_years closely confined her to the These vears were mnot, however, wholly unproductive. as several volumes were sent 10 thé press within the period. From this illness Miss Martincau_believed berself to have been restored by the influence of mesmerism, and the excitement produced by the event is, b this day. 2lmost inconeeivable. ace more in the enjovment of Lealth, Miss Martineau resumed Ler active pen, at the same time that she built the pretty bouse at Amble- side, in the Lake District, in which she resided until her death. By the generosity of a fricnd she was able to spend cieht months in travel in Egypt and the loly Laud, in 131675 and of this jor ber well-known volume of ¢ East- ern was the immediate fruit. In 1851 ondeace between ber- whicn the free rel ious views she entertained were elab- orately expounded. The “ Atkinson Letters,” as they were called, show her attitude in this domain of thought to have been nearly identi- cal with that now sustained by Prof. Tyndall. The tenor of her belicf—or. more properly, her non-belief—may be gatuered from thie extracts cited in the eariy part of this art) 1852 Miss Martineau aceepted the place of political writer on the London Daily News, Which sbe retzined for fourieen years. In thas time she contributed to the paper 600 leading articles, sometimes as many s six a week; and of tnese only eight, written in the bezinning, “had_acquired familiarity with the work of journalism, were rejected.” But it is impossible here to recount the books, and pam- }ahlex.s, and_essars which flowed unceasingly rom Miss Martineau's pen. Until the very close of ber liic, some cause for the ameliord. tion and advancement of mankind was receiving, through words made potent by the press, hor Powerml:ssi,smw and encouragement. Serene- waiting for dailv-expected death, she con- lucted the affairs of ber little estate, dispensed the sindly hosnitalities of her home, and toiled in the service of others 28 far as strength would ** As the fire” allow, until the final moment came, ending all on June 27, 187, g : . The Autobiography, written early in the year 1853, and now presented to the public, is con- ceived in the strong, practical, rational spirit that eminently distinguished the autkor. It is as candidly and impartially done as such a piece of Xsou:i confidence and self-criticism could fiebe‘ t abounds in skctches of celebrated persons known to the writer, and in reflections of an instructive nature. Its chief value, how- ever, lies in the example of a high moral char- acter which it holds up betore thereader. How- ever much one may differ from Miss Martineau in relizious doctrine, in political opiniors, and personal judgrments, there are few who will not sratefully accept. the lessous her life affords in the beauty of integrily, devotion to truth, and abnegation of self, united with many minor irtues. ne duty of cditing the work has been well performed by Mrs. Chapman. She has supplicd any details, filling out the memoir furnished v Miss Martincau, and has presented a history of the_years following the conclusion of the Autobiography. THE WESTERN PLAINS. OF THE GREAT \ BIT, Bi: Svo., pp. 44 G. P. Pat- trated. 3 Chicago: Jsusen, McClurg & Co. nam's Sens. Price, 4. In the preface to this work, the author takes oceasion to state that hie has carefully abstained from consulting sathorities, and from borrowing the knowledge and statements of others, re- garding the subjects on which he speaks. He prefers to give fustead his own unbiased opin- fons and observations, which have been gained in o long expericugnof life on our Western Plains. This indeperdent position of the au- thor commends itself thoroughly on an exami- nation of his book. T#@ writer has anabundanco of original information, and a skillful kuack of imparting it, which justity him not ouly o adding to the world’s stock of bools, but in relying wholly upon himself for the matter and manner he has employed in constructing the one now under consideration. The work opens with an Introduction by Will- fam Blackmore, an English gentleman wio has had a_life-loug interest in the aborigines of Amnerica, and during eight years has improved an obpo-tunity for a personal acquaintance with the tribes inbaoiting the Territories of the United States and the British Possessions. Ina space of above fifty pages he gives sundry statis- ties of the North-American Indians, their num- Dbers, their division into tribes, their location, characteristies. and history sinee 18623 and con cludes the whole with o review of the manase- ment of _this portion of its population by the United States Government, interspersed ‘with comments upon the weakness and inefficiency of its Indian volicy. Col. Dodge divides the main body of the ook into three portions, in which e treats re- spectively of the Plaius, Game, and Indians. In the first pars there Is a detailed description of | the surface, geological formation, vegetation, climate of the lands lying between the souri and_the Rocky Mountains, from the alupe Mountains in Texas to the Brit- ish line on the north. Mudes of travel and of i the Plains dlso receive a mood share jon. In the section discussing the game found in this Territory, the sport to be enjoyed in hunt- ing builalo. wild cattle, elk. deer, antelope, mountain-sheep, wotves, and otker animals, i fishes, is vividly set forth. Col, pirited narrator, aud bri i ircetly hefore the vision. is next to being an ual witness of the scenes tu follow his graphic delineations,which are full of anecdote and exciting adventure, The division in swhich the **noble red man* is considere:din the clearlizht of reality, stripped of the fauciful charms with which romance and. scatimentality have loved to invest him, presents a picture too horrible nd res voltinz for anv words to represent, except the very plain and forcible ones Co odge has emploved. Innoaccount that we have ever chanced to meet has the fearful bestiality of the Indian_character been so cmphatically portray- ed. The recital tears away the last remnant of illusion from the form of **Lo, the poor Indian,” and trom all other ‘poor, and unfortunate, and ill-treated heroes of the aboriginal races, which poets and novelists have loved to evoke from the depths of their imagination, and sct up as worthy objects of the white man’ssympathy and admiration. 1t to_ re=d dhe chapters on the social life of the Indian, and bhis treaf ment. of captives, to realize how degraded ar his instincts and his actior ind how little above| the wild brute of the Plains has he yet risen in | the scale of moral and intellectual development. Col. Dodge bas the support of historical facts underlying his statements: and they have, more- over, a stamp of Lonesty which persusdes reli- auce upon them. FENGLISH ITISTORY. THE MISTORY OF ENGLAND FROM THE COMME MENT OF THE XIX. CENTURY TO TUE CRIMEAN WAR, By Haneier Mau- Complete in’ Four Volumes. 12mo. hia: Porter Chicago: Jan- Co. ¢ present is an opportune time for reprint- ing in America a work which is considered by many the ablest that Miss Martineaun ever pro- duced. Now that tite publication of her Auto- biography has cxcited a fresh interest in the life and writings of this remarkable woman, there will be a renewed demand for those books which best illustrate the vizor and versatility of her powers und the individuality of her prinziples. The * History of Englaud or ‘ History of the Thirty Years' Peace™ as it was named on its appearance in 1840, exhibits with unqualified advantaze the varied learning, the liberal and candid judement, and the compact and elevated style of the author. The present edition is to be commeded for its neat’ exterior and modest price. ENGLISH GRAMMAR. ESSENTIALS OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. Fon TnE Ust oF Scmoots, By WiLLia¥ Dwiout WHITNEY. Professor of Sanskrit and Compara- tive Philology, and Instractor of Modern Lan- nazes, in Yale Collere, ete. 12mo., pp. 260. oston: Ginn & Heath. ' Price, 91 cents. The repute of Prof. Whitney as a teacher of the science of philology. and of Oriental and modern languages, will attract the attention of educators to the above-named manual of gram- mar, to which his name is appended. It is de- signea for use in the class-room, and to practi- tests must be referred for de eritici The system on which the treatise is based is sugeested by the author’s declaration that the grammarian is simply a recorder of the usages of lanzuage, and is in no manner a law-giver,— hardly even au arbiter or critic. The object of the grammarian s, in his view, not to_teach the correct use of a language, but the philosoply of that lapguage as illustrated in the correct use of it. BOOKS RECEIVED. THE MAN WHO WAS NOT A COLONEL. Bya Hich Private. Paper. Boston: Loring. Chi- cago: Jansem, M & Co., and ladley LAWS A ¥ A ECCIRE, AXD OF DKAW-POKER. By a Professor. 16mo,. pp. 144, Philadelphia: T. Peterson & Bros, Chicago: Jansen, Mc- Price, S1. LYGLOTTCUS HISTORIE NAT- “aroLo GiLBERTO WnEELER, Pro- ersitati Chicagensi. Long folio, 6. New York and Chicago: A. S. Barnes. Price, $2. LAKELSIDE LIBRARY. ._78. BREAD-AND- CHEESE AND ES. ¥ B. L. FaRrEoN. 1 Loyd & Co. Price, 10 cente. TIHE CONVICTS AND THEIR CHILDREN. By BErTnoLD AUERBACH, Author of ‘‘On the ts,” etc. Translated by CiAmLEs T. Brooxs, 16mo., pp. New York:* Benry ol & Co. _Chicago: Jansen, McClurg & Co. Price, S1. THE GOLDEN BUTTERFLY. A Noven. By the -Money Montiboy.” Paper. New York: Harper & Bros. Chicago: Jansen, McClurg & Co. cents. FRIEND FRITZ: A TALE oF TOE BANKS OF THE L. Translated from the French of Em 12mo., pp. 401. New York Seribner, Armstrong & Co. Chicago: Hadley Tros. & Co. ~Price, $1.25. THE MYSTERY. A Love-Story. By Mrs. HESey Woop, Author of **East Lyune.” 8v 216, Philadelphia: T. B. Peterson & Bros. gazo: liadles Bros. £Co. Price, S1. = ‘Chi- .IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONE, "Ly WavtEn SavAGE Laxpon. Third Serics. DIALOGUES OF Lirevany Mex. 12mo., pp. 439. Doston: ltoverts Bros. ~ Chicago: Junsen, MeClurg & Co. rice, $2 AMERICAN SOCIETY, FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANLY X ATED LY THE STATE OF TH NUAL REPORT, 1677. Paper. New York: Headquarters of the Society, Fourth avenne, comer of Twenty-secondstree THE APOLOGUES OF JUSTIN MARTYR. To Wricn Is ArFENDED THE EPISTLE To DIOGE- NETUs. With sn Introduction and Notes by Bavr. L. Gripensuzsve, Ph. D. (Gott.), LL.D., Professor of Greek in the Johns Hop-. kins University, . Ealtimore. 12mo.. pp. oK. New York: Harper & Dros. Chicago: Jansen, McClurg & Co. Price, $1.75. PERIODICALS RECEIVED. NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW for Mués;;:p‘r!fl B nta: B Buckalew; *‘Demonology,” by Waldo Emerson; **Christian Policv in 5. hy Laorence Offphaut: **\Will Seward,” by Richard Grant glish” Arctic’ Expedition (witl Circampolar Map. by Carles' . Daly, President \mercan ographical Society: ¢-Poctry and \wrec Maliing, " by Charles T Conzdon’? ance Crisis.™ by Sheppard lomans; **The fenary of Spinoza, ™ by Samacl O3good: **The Silver Question, " by J.'S. Moore: **Contempo- rary Liternture. s APPLETONS' JOURNAL for April (D. & Co., New York), Contents: **The Austrian Arstic Expedition.™ In Tiwo Parte. Part I (with teenillustrations). by A. Cherrs Ripe!™ A Novel. Chap Helen 1. Mathers (with an llustrat Reinhart); **The Wind_ in the Trowbrid Chapters, Burden, eal, " by . C. M Nest, A Russin_ E of Percemont. ™ X. **Count_ Ganltier's T *~The Owner of A Naked Babe, Manrice Thompeon: **.A Hero of the Old’ Rezime,” by Junine Henri Browne; **Under the Horizon. “*Some ' Phasc: Cary Exgleston W. Champney; - Booke.” LIPPINCOTT'S 3 for April (J. B. Lip- ri). Coutents: +*The e (Tiustrated), by Edward ““in_the Valleys of Pern™ (Ilius The Marguis of Lossie,” by Geo o by Kate Hillard, b “aStory, by E. ,"* by Emma ietch of the East- ‘ Younz Aloys; d), by translated by Charles T, ve Island. crn Shore, " by itodert Wilson: or, The Gawk from Amenca” (Conclud - Berthold Auerbach, Drouks; **Decay,” by Edgar Peacemalker of 1 ¥ W. D. Monthly **Litérature of the D: REPUBLIC for March (Zepublic Publishing Com- ) puny, Washington, D. C. WESTERN JURIST for March (Bloomington, IIL. : The Hon. T, F. Tipton, Editor). * AMERICAN LAW REGISTER for March (Phila- delphia: The Hon. J. T. Mitcheil, Editor). AMERI LIBRARY JOURNAL, No. © (F. Leypoldt, New York). FAMILIAR TALK, HARRIET MARTINEAU ON LYLE. During the seven or eight vears of Harriet Martineau’s residence w the City of London, her association with the Carlyles was of the most friendly character. She regarded both the philosopher and his wife with sincere estcem and affection, and has sereral times made room in her “Autobiography” for an expression of her generous admiration of one or the other. At one time she remarks: * No kind of evening was more delichiful to me than those which were spent with the Carlyles. About once a fornight a mutual fricnd of theirs and mine drove me over to Chelsen, to the early tea at No. 5 Cheyne row,—the house which Carlyle was perpetually complaining of and threatening to leave, but where he is still to be found. I never believed that, considering the delicate health of both, they could ever flourish in that Chelsea clay, close to the river: and I rejoiced when the term of lease had nearly expired, and my {friends were looking out for another house. If they were living in a ‘cal- dron’ and a ‘Babel,’ it scemed desirable that they should find an airy, quiet home in the country,—near cnough to London to enjoy its society at pleasure. Carlyle went forth, on the fineblack horse which a friend had sent him with sanitary views, and lookedabont him. Forth he went, bis wife told me, with three maps of Great Britain and two of tie world in his poc] et, to explore the area within twenty miles of London. All their friends werc on the lovkout; and I, from my sick chamberat Tynemouth, sent them ca rnest entresties to settle on a gravel £0il; but old habit prevailed, and the phil pher renewed the lase, and st Lo work to make Tor himself a noise-proof chamber, where his {retted nerves y obtain rest amidst the Loudon * Bab <e the house for no other reason than that I spent many very pleas- ant evenings fu it; but it has now become com- pletely assocated with the marvelous :alk of both Busband and wife.”" A litile later, in describing the memorable personazes whom she someti; Carlyles', Miss Martineau write: was there, witn his chs and full of senstbili air, combed down sur00tl:; and bis homely fig- ure; black baudkerchicf, ray stazkines, and stout shoes; while he was full of gratitude to Tadles who dress frivinter in velvet and in rich colors; and to old dames in the strects or the country who still wear scarlet. clo: 1iis con- versation was lively. rapid, highly illustrative, and perfectly natural. I remember, one ecen ing when ilorne there (toe sutbor of “Orion,” ete.), w s that the three heads ~—Hunt’s, Horne': i1 Cariyle’s—could be sketched ina group. Horne's perfectly white complexion, and somewhat coxcombical ‘curling jskers. ana determined picturesq con- jously with the homely manliness of ne countenance, and the rugged face, eenius, of Carlvle. I have seen Car- lyie’s face under all ts, from the decp gloom to the most T s 0F m nial mirth; and it seemed to me that cach mood would make a totally different portrait. The sym- pathetic is by far the finest in my eyes. 1is excess of sympathy has been, [ believe, the master-pain of his life. He does not know what 10 Go with_it, and with its bittérness, see- ing that humaxn lifc is 1ull of pain to those who look out for jt; and tie savageness which has come to be a rain characts of th slng}:l:;r n of his “ CAR- man is, in_wy opinion, 1 mere expre: intolerable sympathy with the sufferinz. He cannot express his love and pity in natural acts, like other people; and it snows itself too often inunnatural speech. But to those *who understand his cyes, his shy manner, his chane- ing color, his sigh, and the constitutional pudeur eaders bim silent about eversthing that whi he feels the most deeply, his wild speech and abrupt manner are perfectly intelligible. 1 have felt to the depths of my beart whai his symoa- thy was in my days of 55, and prosperity, and apparent happiness without drawbac] azain in sickness, pain, and hopelessness of be- ing ever at case aguin: 1have observedthe same strength of feeliux towards ull mannerof suller- ers; and ITam confident that Carlyle's affections are too much for him, d tne real cause of the ‘ferocity’ with which he charges himself and astonishes otiers. It must De siich a strong love and honor s his friends. {feel for him that can compensate n of witn his suffering Lift familiarly; be rarcly slept, was wofully dyspep- tic, and as variable as possible in mood. “When my friend and Ientered the little parlor at Chicyne row, our host was usually miserable. Till he got his coffee, he asked a list of ques- tions without waiting for answers, and looked asif bewas on the rack. After tea he brizht- ened and softened, and sent us home full of ad- wmiration and friendship, und sometimes with a hope that he would some day be lnpr_\'. It was our doiur—that triend’s and mine—that he gave lectures for threc or fourscasons. e had mat- ter to utter, and_there were many wio wished to hear him; and in those days, before his works had reached their remuncrative point of sale, the carnings by his lectures could not Le unaceeptable. mo we contidently proceeded, taking | the mamagement of the arrange- ments,’ ‘and leaving Carlyle uothing to do but to meet his audiences, and say what he bad to sav. Whenever I went, my pleasure was a good deal spoiled by his unconcealable nervousness. Yellow as a mmines, with down- cast cyes, broken speech at the beginning, and finwrers which nervously picked at the desk be- fore him, he could *not_for a moment be su; posed ta enjoy his own effort; and the lecturer’s own enjoyment is a prime element of suceess. The merits of Carlyle's discourses were, how- ever, so great that hie might probably have gone on year after year till this tunc, with finproving suceess, and perhaps ease; but the strurgle was too severe. From the time that his course was anuounced till it was finished, he scarcely sleot, ‘and he gresw more dyspeptic and Nervous every day; and we were at length entreated to say no more about his lecturing, as no fame and no mouey, or other advantaze, could counterbal- ance the misery which the engagement caused him.” The_first series of Carlyle’s lectures was de- livered in the winter of 1337 at Willis' Rooms, and the subject treated was *“German Litera- ture.” The following year a course on the «History of Literature, or the Successive Periods of European Culture,” was given in Portman square. "I'wo other series of lecturcs— oneon the “*Revolutions of Modern Enrope ”” and the other on ¢ Heroes and Hero-Worship '— were delivercd in 1339 and 1330. Miss Martineau states that, for along time, she was uncertain whether Carlyle was at beart as" indifferent to fameas he professed to be. Allan Cunningham, a warm 1riend of the phi- losopher, was of the opinion that his ill-health was in a great measure Owing to the unsatisfac- -tory rewgénmon which his genius had then re- ceived. It istrue. that, after the period of which Miss Martineau writes, the spirits and physleal condition of Carlyle did scem to im- rove while hisfame constantly increased; yet gfiss Martinean considers that the illness from which he was 50 ita m%emrlwas the result of constitutional disordesindaced by excessive study in youth. rather than of a disappointed hankering for renown. To illustrate this point she redites the following reminiscence: “Qpedsy ] was dining there alone. I had trooglitover from America twenty-five copies of his ‘Sartor Besartus’ as reprinted there: and, having sold them at the i i had'some money 10 put fato 1 K;X: it into his hand the first time; but it made im uncomfortable, and he_ spent it in n pair of signzt rings for his wife and me (her motto be- ing ‘ Point de foiblesse,’ and mine ‘Frisch zu!’). This would never do; &o, havine imported and £old a second parcel, the cifficulty was what to du with the money. * My friend and T foand that Carlyle was ordered weak brandy ana water in- stead of wine; and we spent our few sovereigns in French brandy of the best quality, which we carried over one evening, when going to tea. Carlyle’s amusemcat and deligat_at tirst, and all the evening after, whenever he turncd his cyes towards the lonz-necked bottles, showed us that we had madea good choice. He declared that he had zot a reward for his labors at last; and his wife asked me to_dinner, all by myself, to tastc the brandy. We three sat round the firc after dinner, and Carlyle mixed the toddy, while Mrs. Carlyle and I discussed some literary matters, and speca- lated on fame and the love of it. Then Carlvle held out a glass of his mixture to me with, *Here, take this. It is worthall the fame in . Englund !’ Miss Martineau says of Carlyle’s habits of authorship, that *His manuscript is beautifally ueat, when finished; and a page holds a vast quantity ot his emall, upright writing. But his own account of his toil in anthorship is melan- choly. He cannot slccgl for the sensc of the burden on his mind of what he has to sav; rises weary, and is wretched till he has had his coffee. No mode of expression pleases him ; and, by the time bis work is out, his faculiies are over- wearied. It is a great object in his case to have the evenings amused, that his work may not take possession of his mind before bedtime. His e ve slownessis a perfect mystery to me, considering tiut the work is burdensome. 1f e dwelt lovingl_\' on its detzils, and on his researches, I could understandit. But perhaps he does, wore than he is awarc of. If not, his noble vocation is indeed a hard one.” Incorrecting bis broofs, Carlyle alters thephra- s8ology time and time again, intil his own mind is harassed with the work, and his printers are wholly out of paticnce. An anccdote showing his mode of revision i thus related by Miss Martineau: *One day, while in my study, I heard a prodigious sound of laughter on the stairs; and in came Carlyle; laughing loud. e iad been laughing in that’ manver all the way from the priutiuz-oflice in Charing Cross. As =oon as he could, "he told me - what it was about. He had been to the office to urge on the and the man said, *Why, sir, you are so very hard upon us with your cor- rections! They take so wueh time, you sec!” After some remonstrance, Carlvlcobserved that be had been accustomed to this sort of thing; that he had got works printed in Scotland, and —— *Yes, indeed, sir,” interrupted the printer; ‘weare aware of that. We havea man here from Edinburg; and, when he took up a bit of your copy, he dropped it as if it had burnt his finzers, and cried out, * Lord have merv you got tbac manto priut for! Lord knows wwhen we shall get done with all his correc- dinx her comments upon Carlyle, u pays the followine uobie tribute to his influence on the thougnt of his age: “Howerer much or little he m: et do. be cer- tainiy ought to be recognized as one of the chief influences of his time. Bad as is our political ity, and urievous as are our_social siort- 75, we are at least awakened to a scuse of our sins: and I cannot put ascribe this awaken- ine mainly to Carly] What Wordsworth did v in bringricg us out of a conventional idea and method to a true and simple_one, Car- Ivle has done for moralits. He may be himself the most carious onp ion to himself; he may be the greatest, mannerist of his aze, while de- nouncing conventionalism,—the ereatest talker, “while eulogizing silence,—the most woful com- plainer, while glorifying fortitude,—the most uncertain and stormy in mood, while holding forth serenity as the greatest zood within tae resch of man: but he has, nevertheless, infused into tiie mind of the Enclish nation a earnestne healthfulness, and cou can be appreciated only by those who are old enough to tell what was our morbid state when Byron was the representative of our temper, the Clapham Church of our religion, and the rotten-boroush system of our political morality. If T am warranted in believing that the society T am bidding farewell to is 2 vast _imorovement upon that which I was born into, I am confident that the blessed chanee is_attributable to Car- Ivle more than to any single influence besides.” ART NOTES. One of the features of the Art Department fn the Paris Exposition of 1578 will be a collection of historic portraits, executed by French artists, from the fifteenth century to the year 1536. An cxhibition of Rembrandt’s etchings wiil be opened carly in April, in the rooms of the Burlington Fine-Arts Club, in London. The collection will be extensive and of great inter- and will be rendered intellizible to all visitors by means of a well-ordered and instruet- ive catalozue. ‘The large collection of engravings formed by the Kev. G. Burleigh James, Jate of Knowbury, neland, will be sold in London on nine ays, beginning March 19. The col- ion comprises nearly 6,000 lots, and cm- s speciinens, many of which are of great value, of nearly all the cclebrated masters of the art. Ludwie Knaus, the German painter, has com- pleted a “ Holy Family,” of which F. Spiel- hagen writes in the Atheneum: * I remember no Madonua. with the exception of the Sistina, in the face and attitude of which so much gra- dousness, sweetness, chaste maternal love. are <0 harmoniousty united. like so many flowers in a fracrant gariand; 1o Birth of the Savior, in which the angets circling and bending round the child express so spontancously and so heartily the joy felt torouzhout the heavens.” The ture was executed for the Empress of Rus- sia, and the price paid for it was 20,000 thalers. PUBLIC WORKS IN INDIA. In the last quarter of a_century England has expended £11,000,000 sterling in the construc- tion of public works in three districts in India, v Benzal, the Northern Provinces, and Pan- jaub. Of this sum, £8,000,000 has been spent on works now in operation, and the remainder on works not yet complete. According to the Bankers Magazine, the productive works are nearly self-supporting, the deficiency amount- ing toa little over $30,000 annually. The re- ports from the public works constructed ia ombay and Madras were not_included jn the statement. The railroads built by the English in India extend beyond 6,300 miles, aud the telegrapb-wires to some 85,000 miles. * Ever since the timne of Lord Dalhousie,” says a writer in Fraser's Magazine, “-the motto of the En- srlish rulers of the country has been, ¢ Material progress at any cost:’ the development of the Empirc by means of railways. canals, irrigation works, model farms, telezraphs, and roads.” DISCOVERY OF ANTIQUITIES. - Near Cerea, in the Province of Verona, two large terra-cotta vases, filled with Imperial coins, were disinterred in- December, 1670, by some laborers who were digginga pit. The coins, numbering in all about 50,000, are made of alloyed metal, and are inagood state of reservation. They are of Trebonius Sallus, alerianus Senior, Tacitas, Marius, Diocletianus, and numerous otners. The collection is to be catalogued and placed in the Museum at Ve- rona. A later valuable “ find "’ was discovered at Bologna, in January, during the construction of a building pear the” Church of San Francesco. Aterracotta vasc was unearthed, which was filled with bronzes. Among them were more than 1,000 hatchets, daggers, swords, scythes, bits, saws, fibule, razors, ete. The bronzes had never been used, and were entirely free from rust, and of a wonderful golden hue. Their ag- E’j"’“" weight was not less than atonanda TUNIVERSITY OF JENA. The University of Jena has been for many years suffering from the lack of & sufficient in- come to enable it to extend its corps of profes- sors, enlarge its collections, and in other ways keep up with the standard of prosperous and progressive institutions of its kind. An ener- eetic effort has now been fnanzurated among the friends of the school to_relieve it of its pe- cuniary embarrassments. A large increasc of the annual erants allowed by the varions Grand- Ducal Goveruments on_which it depeads for support is asked for, and Saxe-Weimar begins with a promise of an addition of 40,000 matks. SPARKS OF SCIENCE. . TELESCOPES. ‘The honor of inventing the telescope has been mach disputed,—both the Italians and the Dutch claiming it for divers individnals of their nationality. The biographer of Gallleo states that the discovery was undoubtedly first made by a Dutchman named Jansen, although the only use to which he pat the instrument was as a toy to amuse a Prince. Flammarion re- lates, in his ** History of the Heavens,” on the authority of Albess, that the concave and con- vex lcns happened to be firsused In combioa- tion by the children of Jean Lippershey, an optician of Middleburg, fo Zealand. Whilst plaging with thelr father’s Jenses, one day in the year 1608, the youngsters chanced to note that, by looking through the two lenses named, held one before tie other, distant objects were brought surprisinely near. Lippershey seized upon the discovery, and reduced it to utility by fixing the lenses in draw-tubes, after the fashion of ‘the modern telescope. Un apply- ing to the States-General of Holland, Oct. 2, 1605, for a patent, his petition was refused, be- cause the Aldermen could discern no benefit to be eained by the instrument.” The invention of Lippershey was too valuable to remain long un- aporeciated, but the obtusenessof the Dutch States-General _prevented. the anthor from de- riving any benefit from his discovery. In "1609, Galiléo constructed a telescope, of" which he wrote the following .account. to his brother-in-law, Landucei: “You must kuow, then, that, about two months ago, there was a report spread * here that in Flanders some one had presented the Count Maurici (of Nassau)a glass, manufactured insuch a way as to make distant objects appear very near, so that a man at the distance of two miles could be clesrly scen. This secmed to me so marvelous that I began to think about it. As it appeared to me to have a founaation in the sclence of perspec- tive, 1 set about thinking how to make it, and ot length I found out, and have succeeded 50 well that the onc I haye made is far superior to the Dutch telescoj It was reported in Venice that I had made onme, and, a week since, I was commanded to show it to his Serenitv and to all the members of the Senate, to_their infinitc amazement. Many gentlemen and Sen, ators, esen the oldest, have ascended at varion: times the highest bell-towers in ‘Venice, to sp) out ships at sea making sail for the mouth ok the harbor, and have seen them clearly, though, without my telescope, they would have been in visible for more than two hours. The effect of this instrument_is to show an object at a dis~ tance of say fifty miles, as if it were but five miles ofL.” In December, 1609, Galileo casually mientioned, in a letter to Michael Augelo Buon. arotti, the younger nephew of the great artist, that he had introduced some improvements into the manufactare of telescopes. The astronomer immediately applied his fn- strument to the study of the heavens, and, in the same year of its construction, was rewarded with the discovery of the four satellites of Jupiter, the natare of the Milky Way, and the mountains of the Moon. In 1810 he dizcovered the phases of Venus, and the fact that Saturn was ** triple.” His telescope had at first s mae- nifying _power ot four diameters, which he. afterward increased to - seven, and at last to thirty. Galiteo was for a time very busy in the manufacture of these instruments, which he produced at the expense of much money and labor. Of the first hundred which left his” hands, only ten were capable of showing the satellites and fixed stars, and these were intended 25 gifts to reigning monarchs in Enrope. There wasa great cariosity coucern- ing these fostruments, and a_corresponding de- sirc_to possess them. **We are told,” sass Galileo’s biographer, “how Marie de Medici, fn lier eagerness to sce the Moon through the tele- scope, would not wait for it to be adjusted, but went down upon her knees before the window, —thereby _m-mug- astonishing the Italian gentle- man who had hrought the telescope into the Roval presence.” Kepler received the news of Galileo’s discov- ery of Juviter’s satellites by means of the tele- scope, with generous joy, and delayed not to declare to bim *‘that, it he were right, which he was inclined to believe, then his own book on Cosmography must be entirely wrong.” It was not long before Kepler himself was at work with the telescope, and in 1611 he produced ona Ivlhich. for the first time, combined two concave asses. 8 Huyehens, the great Dutch philosopher, brought the magnifsing power of the telescope successively from thirty to forty-eight, ffty. and ninety-two. By means of the instrum thus improved, he discovered in 1655 the ricy of Saturn and the fourth satellite of that planct. Cassin, the distinguished Italian as tronomer, increased. the magnifying power of the telescope to 150, and was thus enabled to make sundry new and important discoveries with reeard to the movements and satellites of the planets. The earliest astronomical observa tory having been completed at Paris in 1667, Cassini accepted, two vears later, the invitation of Colbert to become its first Director. For 127 years thereafter this institation was in charge of a Cassini—the father, son, and grandson successively oecupying the position. In 1663, James Gregory, of Aberdeen, discov- ercd the reflecting telescope. -He wab bat 24 vears of age at the time, and when only 35, a8 he was showing the satellites of Jupiter to his pupils in the University of St. Andrews, of ‘which he held the Professorship of Mathematics, he was suddenly struck with total blindness, and dieda few days after. Newton, hay turned his attention to the construction of escopes, devised in 1672 an improved form of the reflector, which Iater was brought 1o i:qax perfection by Sir Willlam Herschel and rd. Rosse. Itis well known that Herschel spent many laborious years in the manufacture of tel- escopes, performing the delicate operation of olishing the glasses with his own hands. The lllmes: instruments of our century are, accord- ing to Flammarion, that of Herschel, which maemifies 3,000 times; of Lord Rosse, Wl magnifies 6,000 times; the Foucault telescope at Marseilles, 4,000 times; the reflector at Mel- bourne, 7,000 times; and the Newall refractor. The second astronomical observatory was es- tablished at -Greenwich in 1676; then followed the observatories at Berlin, in 1710, and at St. Petersburg in 1725. HOT WATER FOR WOUNDS. Hot waterin the treatment of braises and ‘wounds is strongly advocated by certain medical authorities. In proof of its efficacy, the New York Wedical Journal cites the following case: The hand of a workman in a machine-shop was crushed under the fall of a trip-hammer weigh- inz 700 pounds. The hammer was arrested when within a half-inch of its bed, but the palm of the unfortunate band receiving the blow was . reduced to a pulp. The metacarpal bones were extensively comminnted, yet, in the hope of saving the member, it was kept immersed in hot. water for two or three weeks, and then taken out and dressed. Inthree months the patient was dismissed from the hospital, and in nlne months was able to move his fingers and demon- strate that he still possessed a useful hand. The temperature of the water employed in such cases should be about 103 degrees renheit. CAN BIRDS COUNT ? Nature prints, under the heading given above, the following letter, dated Magdalen College, Oxtord, which tends to increase our estimate of the mental capacity of the feathered tribes: ¢ [ have often,” says the writer, ‘““noticed that crows crowded oo Sundsys to a certain place, ‘where, on the seventh day, a friend of mine was inthe habit of amusing himself by placing a uantity of broken biscuit on his window-sill. e had time for this only on the Sunday morn- ing, and during the week no food was so pre- sented. We noticed that on the Sundays a crowd of birds came about the window, whereas on other days no special sign of excitement was visible among them.” — ORGANIC INDIVIDUALITY. Dr. J. C. Bucknlll, an eminent London physi- cian, who has made the study of the brain 2 specialty, remarks that “No one brain 1s like any other brain. Either through the force of inberitance from the parent organism, or thorgfigh fléu (nfln&:ce of edu::.{uo: or other m ircumst evel possesses am:ha:;;-gdz‘afll o/mcf"mc? ity in the rela- tive suscep! ity and strength of its organs, that the same ditlublnz luence never pro- duces in two brains exactly the same pathologic- al effects.” BRIEF NOTES. Over 100,000 salmon-trout were put into Lake George late in Febraary, aod 50,000 brook-wout will be added this spring. A An immense quantity of alfa. or -esparto, & ‘beautiful feather-zrass, is exported from Tunis for the mapufacture of paper. From one small town, 50,000 bales were sent in1576. The great- er part of this material is consumed in England. 1In working up a collection of fossil ants from South Park, Colorado, Mr. 8. H. Scudder has found about forty species, most of which belong to the Formicia®, and others to the Mymicids, and Poneride. The specimens were chiefly winged females. The utllity of ofl in calming a troublous sea ‘was proved last summer by an English vessel. Encountering a heavy gale ofEahe Cape of Good Hope, the seamen slowly poured several gallons of oil upon the billows, which threatened to swamp toe ship. The effect was immediate, no waves thereafter breaking over the deck. - In the adaress delivered by Chief-Justice Daly before the American Society the speaker mentloned that the eograph! Sodety was probably that yggge‘! g enice i& E bl;:du:h{:]}:m;l' of iet) was followed, & few yfl’l"l m an association of the kame kind established at’Nuremburg. A lamorcy bhas been recently added to the New York Aquarium. It was bronght adistance of 800 miles, and is the first live specimen evez. on exhibition in the city, ‘The ‘habit of ln:;l to tijm n‘m:!ne m:h.u am by the ‘mo observed in the aguariom, to the glass m’ ‘Which-the fish often firmly saberes.