The New York Herald Newspaper, June 28, 1874, Page 6

6 PRENCH LIFE AND POL!7IC3 The Pleasures, Novelties and -Excitements in Paris. — A STEAM TENOR. Temperance, Cremation and Mir- aculous Visions. THE POLITICAL CR A Victory for the Republicans in the Assembly. is. A ROWDY CHEVALIER. | Gambetta’s St. Croix’s Penalty. Pakis, June 13, 1874. I would have little tosay about Parisian theatri- cals at this Senegalian heat were tt not for a wonderful discovery, careiully kept secret up to this very day, and which has just been communi- cated to me py the clever man who undoubtedly | will owe to it nis fortune and celebrity throughout the world, But before telling you what it consists ofa short preamble is necessary. Yon are wel) aware that, apart trom a few really great artists, belonging for the most part to the finer sex, the lyric stage is suffering from a davy growing scarcity of interpreters worthy of the immortal chers-@’wuvre composed by Rossini, Meyerbeer, Mozart, Halévy, Verdi, &c. A good tenor, more especially, has become, like the blue bird with a wreen tail, impossibie to be found for the past fif- teen years ; the last one having been Roger, the creator of Jean de Leyde, im Meyerbeer’s “Prophet,” Even tenorini like Capoul, whose vocal powers | are quite insufficient for the great opera style, are not common, and we are, in tact, threatened with the complete extinction of the male soprano, and you should remark that it is just the moment when the first French lyric troupe will soon have to exert | their powers in a honse by one-third larger than | any other hitherto used for operatic perform- ances—-the new Opera Building—where the orches- Evidence and) enjants aim rapeurm To which His Excellency answered, “Ainsi sott-f!"” } OPE%A BOUPER. Nothing is eterna( im this world, not even “La | Fille de Madame Angot,’ the most successiul play that ever was produced on the French stage, Whence it spread, like an trresistible torrent, all | over Burope.. Charles Le Cocq's opéra bousfe’ be | longs, need I tell you, to that vulgar category of | plays so much en vogue tor the past twenty years, | the great pontiff of waich was Offenbach, the com- | poser ot “La Belle A¢iéne” and “La Grande Duen- | esse.’ Libretto and music are worthy of each otner, Altogether, It suits marvelously the cor- rupt taste of a dissolute society, hence tts Euro- | pean unsurpassed success. For not only Paris, but | also London, Vienna, St. Petersburg and even Ler- lin have triumphaliy applauded the rotten litera- | ture and vulgar melodies characteristic of Le | Cocq’s popular chef douvre, Ant fact that such & disgusting production was a European | event is asuffciently striking exemplitication of | this truth, vamly denied, viz.:—thit the corrup- tion Of Manners aad lowering of public taste, far from being linited to France, us our good friends, | the Germans, pretend it to be, coustitnre a general evil, @ moral cholera, by which the whole social | body 18 intected, | “so dark a sentence about an opira bovffe 1” | will you perhaps objecty Yes, #ir; is not che theatre the fuituful redection of puolic ma T3, | and, at the same time, the most impressive school of morals (or the people t | “ba fille de Madame Angot” bas been replaced | inthe pubite favor by another play of the same | Kind and from tue very same authors—‘Giroilé, Giroffa,” Which bas met with an equally pro- | digious success, thus driving another nail mco the cottin Of public good taste and morality. Sad! Sad! Sad! DUMAS AGAIN. Alexander Dumas, Jr., bas nearly completed another comedy—I should rather say drama—in. | tended to make as much noise on both sides ol the Atluntic. If niy memory 1s correct, one year has scarcely elapsed sine ang Frank Walworth shot his father to death in New York, Eveu at that time tue awful ceed found apologizera, not only on your shores, but also jin France, through extenuating circumstances apparent or real. Well, M. Dumas ji/s boldly boards this question:—"Has a son the right, or even the duty, to kill his lather, if this be the only means of preventing lus mother from being mur- dered by a wicked husband '” and, with tis usual | audacity, M. Dumas conciudes in the afirmative, | Fears are entertained that Lady Anasthasia (the | censorstip) will object to the production on tae stage of sach a formidaole theory; but, as there are no political allustons of any kind tn “Un Parri- new Academician will succeed in overcoming all diMficuities which might interiere trom that side, and add another jewel to his already rich crown. Amen! THE TEMPERANCE QUESTION, Father Mattnew has made wew converts, not | Only m America and England, but in France aiso, moved by the desire of having themselves Spoken | Of in the newspapers, have organized a ‘“temper- ace soctety’’ on ihe model of your similar insti- tutions, with premiuins in money for the repentant sous o! Bacchus. Up to ts vory day, the most honorable tustitution numbers thirty-four adher- euts, including the tweaty membres fondateur | amongst whom must notice His Koyal Majesty, | Heurt V. and the beadie of Paray-le-Monial, dount the fearful progress of alconolism in France is weil wortay of serious attention trom the philo- sopher and philanthropist, but itis an evi cons quent, a8 Many Others, upon a general state o! de- composition, abasement of minds and absence ot | sell-respect prevaient everywhere, and belore scek- | ing to cure this eVil, it Would, perhaps, be advisa- bie to search the causes waich led to tt, and, if not suppress them, at least to prevent them trom hol- lowing deeper and deeper every day, m the heart of the people. Otherwise, thousands of tempe: ance societies will be nearly as efficient against the progress of alcoliolisia, a8 @ plaster Ou a Wouden | leg. | DUELLING tra and choruses alone will require numerous | additions. Here the question arose, Where are we to get atenor possessed with steel lungs, in | order to make bimseli heard in such a vast and | costly structure? To solve this rather unsolvable | problem Mr. Walanzier, the smart manager, sent | emissaries to every corner of the globe, with full | powers to secure at any price an wt de poitrine one of them who, in despair, had joined the British expedition against the Ashantees, having beard King Koffee Kalkali singing beautuully “God Save the Queen,” after the conclusion of peace, atd all in lis power to induce the black mouarch | to give up his shadow of sceptre and crowao and | make his début at Paris in the rdle of Otello, per- | feetly suited to the color of his skin. But the funny | Kalkali would not listen to any suggestion unless | Mr, Halanzier should first come and take his place om the throne of Ashantee, which the perplexed Manager declined to do, notwithstanding that royal purple is tempting to a Frenchman. So that the potentate of our first lyric scene had | aearly given up all hope of discovering a tenor, aid numerous artistes were already engaged, iter nis orders, in transposing all the tenor roles ‘nto contraiti-basst, when Providence appeared to im a fortnight ago in the person of your country- man, MR. ELIAS WINKEL, a native of Portland, Me., where he enjoys a well | deserved reputation as a practical engineer and | organ builder, In @ true American fashion Mr. | Winkel went straight on to the object of his visit, | without any of those fastidious circumlocutions so much & la mode im Europe. “I know your per- | plexity,” said he to Mr. Halanzier (nota little sur- | prised at the assurance exhibited by the stranger) ; you are in need of a tenor, and you cannot find oue, of course, our age being no more devoted to fine arts, but to seience, industry and politics; and | for my own part I'll always deplore that General | | happen yearly You are well aware that it is fashionabie to the | utmost iu France jor a gentleman to have what ts | 80 improperly called une ayaire @honneur, that | is tosay, a duel. Young ladies, not oniy here, but } everywhere else, I guess, are particularly sensitive | to the sighs of a pretenuer, of whom Figaro said a while ago:—“Alter a warm discussion on the subject of Free Love vs. Marriage, a duel | was fought yesterday morning tween M, le Vicomte de Grenouillac and our friend, Arthur | Barbanson, in which the latter has received a | severe though not dangerous wound in his right arm. The greatest bravery aud courtesy prevailed | on both sides."’ Even if he should be a little more ugly than M. Louis Veutllot or Timothée Trimm, Arthur Barbanson, post vulnerem, is sure wo be- | come the coqueiuche of ladies, young and ripe. Besides, if he 1s engaged in writing novels or items for the newspapers the said Arthur will be saluted as a first class romancist, and he may hence- | forth utter the worst nonsense with the certainty | that it will enjoy an immense success among the swittiest peopié on earth.” 1 do not exaggerate when I say that. in spite of appearances, ninety- nine and a half out of a hundred duels which in France, between Frenchmen, | ure of no more serious consequences than | Grenouiliac—Barbansou’s. But the laurels or | Richelieu prevented Mr. Depeyre, tne late Min- ister of Justice, trom snoring in the arms of his | beloved wife. His Classical — retmmuscences ‘ of the Cardinal’s famous edict against duellists acted as red nightmares on his pillow, and, weil | feeling that he would never leave a great Dame | through any genuine idea of nis own, he resoived | to plota nice little law against,the Grenouillacs | and Barbansons who, from time to time enjoy themselves at the expense of publite stupidity. | According to the new anti-dueiiing bill, the offena- | ers will be no more sent to the scalfold, as was | the case under the terrible minister of Louis X1U, | but several years of imprisonment and a heavy fine are to be inflicted not only | upon the contending parties, but also upon their | assistants. Well, Wilirout being a prophet, one | can Jairly predict that as soon as the Deveyre bill has become a law there will be ten times more | duels than at present—tor two excellent reasons :— First—Fighting a duel will then have ail the ex- qutsite suavity of forbidden fruit. Second—Vhe pubiic trial sure to follow before a court of assizes, under the charge of willul murder, in enlarging the scandal and giving a solemn celebrity to the names of duellists, will so flatter the vanity of many peopie that between friends Butler, whom Heaven had gifted with a splendid | they will arrange icint duels im order to get their barytone voice, deserted his natural vocation and became——. But never mind Ben Butler; I guess you don’t care for him, Perhaps you have heard, | at the time of the last Paris Exhibition, of a steam organ, whose powerful sou gave a very nice | idea of the trumpets of the last judgment, which | will awake the dead and strike down the living. | Well, I was the inventor of that new factor of har- | Mony, one of the greatest attractions of your | splendid universal fair. But, you Know, our motto | is “Go ahead,’ and, after five ears of the hardest | work, combinations and experiments, and at a considerable expense of money, | have just sue- | ceeded in completing an invention which, lam proud to say, shall be calied the wonder of our wonderful century, A STEAM SINGER AND DECLAMATO which, in precision and purity, leaves far behind it | all human nightingales of past and present tir Jt consists of silver, steel, copper and lead tubes of different sizes, provided with seven times as many pistons as there are notes in the gamut, thus giv- ing fully seven octaves, while Mr. Tamberlik him- seifcould never reach the third one. This com- bination of tubes, carefully adapted to a steam engine, whica lies underneath the stage, remains in the side scene, so that the audience doesn’t see itatall, Now, then, you ceed not trouble yourself any more about a tenor, nor, indeed, about any kind of singer, either male or temaic, The whole question les in getting good pantomimists, who silently open their mouths and make the appro- | priate gestures; they have not to utter # single sound, my steam singers performing all the musical part of the role aud doing so with such @ perfection that the illusion ought to be complete. J intended to keep this marvei of mine a secret Ul the great Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia opens its doors; but Iam, before ail, a philanthro- pist ana @ friend of arts, and your lamentations have struck me to the beart; and, see, I had many inconveniences to encounter with your police be- jore 1 could arrive here in safety; tor I have, of course, brought with me a specimen of my steam singer, and those stupid fouls took me at first fora Communist agent sent to France with an tufernat machine, intended to exterminate at once the National A y, the Ministers and MacMahon himseif. Poon! But, rather, come witn me to the Grand Hotel, so that you may have a look, and, apove all, a hearing of the thing.” And poor Mr. Halanzier, quite stunned at nis visitor's in, credible revelation, followed him, without being abie to utler # syllable, to the splendid Parisian Capernaum, in the grand saton of which the new woudet Was alreaay disposed, under the gnard of Mr. Winkel’s servauts and machinists, Ata sign given vy tne in tor the engime was put in motion, the automatical tenor partition of “Robert le Diable” was adapted to the key- | ring, and tor nearly two hours tue inmates of the | hotel and the people in the neighborhood were struck with surprise a0d @dtoiration at tne almost divine voice which made itself distinctly heard, im all its purity and powerfuiness, for 00 yards around, Almost Tad with emotion Mr. Halanzier fei into Mr. Winkel’s arms ana precipitately took him to his notary’s, Where a deed of cession granting to Mr, Halanzier the exclusive right Jor ten years of names: printed in the papers. Another infailible method of seeing one’s name printed in small capitals on a sheet Of paper con- sists in sending a few lines to “Mr. Chiei Editor | ofthe * * *,"’on the leading topic of CREMATION VERSUS INTERMEN’ For the past two months there bas been quite a | deluge of projects and counter projects coming | trom every corner of the country. Strange to say, the most implacanle opposition to the old new system of doing with the dead comes from women. Vainly you employ your eloquence and jogic in demonsirating to them how lar more decent and | healthier cremation 1s than the awiul, disgustag | and pestiivntial present system. They won't hear you talking of burning the corpse of w@dleparted | beloved father, lover or child; rather than having those precious remains reduced into four or five | | ounces of neat, white ashes, let them grow rotten in a wooden case, This 18 surely much better. | (At all events,” they say, “it is the Christian | mode ana we ought to keep it."? Nonsense! * * * | But in spite of t feminine opposition to this | needed reiorm, tue campaign in its iavor is gain- | ing ground every day, In a very remarkable | arvicle on the subject Mr. Francisque Sarcey, an- | swering the scruples: of some critics, who object that justice could not the trace of poison on a cremated body, | says, with a truly Freaen humor:—‘i am ver | sorry; but, first, poisoning is very nals of crime ; md, itis by far preierab.e not to be able to discover one of those cases than to polson with certainty a whole community. As to the Christian dogma of the ‘resurrection of bodtes’ | | wish a theologian doctor would tell me whether It | i easier to retake a body with a carrion devoured | by worms than with five ounces of | ashes.” PIT.GRIMS, When I shall have told you that France—biessed France !--13 Once wore tie theatre of pious pilgrim. ages to La Salette, Lourdes and Paray-Le-Monial, and that another miraculous virgin has just made her appearance in the envirous of ris tls time (why not inside of it?) 1 guess my bago: news will be emptied. | In my next letter I hope I shall be able to give youmore important theatrical ana fashionay hews, not mentioning the appearance of He Rochelort’s second series of the Lanterne, which, wt five years’ distance, is anxiously anticipated by he Parisians asa manna of wit and asta against a despised government. “afin, nous alions rire!” THE GRAND PRIZE OF PARIS will be raced jor on Sunday. Saltareiie, which woo the Derby at Chantilly, a horse belouging to M. Edouard Fonid, 18 the favorite. DISAPPEARANCE OF AN ENGLISH BARI The minds of Parisian hotel keepers avd others have been much exercised by an advertisement which nas just appeared in the English news- papers, to the following elfect: Twenty pounds reward—Missing, 2d, a gentleman, age, 39 years ; height, five feet eight inches; fair complexion; hair, mustache and whiskers light brown; blue eyes; shaved under chin; moderately stout; dress, black morning coat and vest (long), light check trousers, light hat (maker, Lock, St. James street), or may be dressed in blae yachting suit; wore gold Watch and chain, locket attached, 1867 on out- side case. The above reward will be paid by Mr. Miller, Stationer, No. 1 Little College street, West- minster, 5, W., to any person giving such intorma- | ton 48 #hall lead to his recovery. Iniormation to Superintendent Willamson, Detective Depart- ment, Great Scotiand Yard, London.’ The above relates toa noble cari, and a reward of £500 is Not ab extravagant sur to offer lor the recovery of a British peer. But the queer part of the transaction 18 that pone of the Engiish papers | be nobleman in question disappeared the day after the Derby, and nobody ventures to say Whether he ia dead or whether he has leyanted by reason of his being a defauiter on the turf. If he had been @ commoner no such deli- cacy would have been shown vo bim; and, indeed dare to print his name. hotel of the Filth avenue, in | cide,” the aucuor’s iriends are confuent that the | where a selection of periwigs, old and young, | ‘nd | | are in the an- | | | snOWw-wnlie | NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, JUNE 28, 1874—QUADRUPLE SHEET. With his own eyes whetaer Marshal Serrano’s gov- erument is secure enougn for the German Empire to recognize it, elections tie Cortes will contain an Alphonsist Majority, abd Serrano will then place Isabella's Son on the throne and set up @ sort of paternal authority over him. | RECEPTION OF BURMESE AMBASSADORS. | _ Marsnal MacMahon has received the new ambas- | Sadors from Burmah, Elaborate preparations had been made in the way of soft carpets, for it was expected they woald go dvwn on all fours and crawl along the whole length of the reception | room, a8 they used to do in Napoleon the Third’s time. But they have grown more acute now, and, indeed, Orientals are always Clever enough no! to ofier themselves as laughing stock: So the whoie mission sailed in serenety in sky-blue gowns, With a golden sun embroidered on their backs, and | walked on their legs ike proper folk. They brougnt | Mme. de MacMahon a Cashmere shawl and te Marshal an ivory-nilted sword, curved like & cheese knife. The President will give them the | customary pair of Sevres vases, which can be ot | no sort of use to them, tmstead of a pair of steam , Ploughs or @ printing press, ich would have re- reer all the men of Burmah during many a Lot jay. | NEW REQUIEM MASS BY VERDI. P Verdi's new requiem, first performed at St. | St. Mark’s, Milan, has been rehearsed at the Opera Comique, Paris, Itis great musical event. For | the first time Verdt hus soitened those ciashing brasses which made his choruses so noisy, and he has produced a work which wilt provably be his masterplece. A solo, for tenor, ‘‘lugemisco,”’ is a pearl; the “Agnus Del,” tor soprano aud caorus, car- | Tled away th? whole audience, and the final fuge “Libera Me,” is equal to the splenaid prayer in | “Masanielio,’’ which immortalized Auber. While | the reporters of twenty Parisian papers were | listening with open ears to this requiem, some French nen outside, wlio wanted to get places, spread a rumor that the Louvre Was on fire, and sixteen O| the reporters instantly hastened out to see the sight. This made sixteen stalls vacunt, | whica the practical jokers appropriated, POLITICS IN FRANCE. Panis, June 13, 1874. French politics are in a worst state of con- fusion than ever, and it would be only mis- | leading persons wbo have serious interests | in France to venture any prediction as to | What is likely to happen. It is probable, how- ever, that a general election cannot be long | delayed, aud that the sense of the country must | be taken in some shape or other for the formation | ol @ permanent government. The septennate is neither fish, Mesh uor fowl; it pleases nobody, and every one looks upon it a8 a provisional state of things which may terminate at any moment. Noth- | Ing but the high personal character of Marshal | MacMahon could have upheid it so long; and it must be remembered with many forebodings that he bas neither the education nor mental qualities which constitute a states- | man fit to guide the destinies of the nation in | troublous times. Moreover, he has now lost nis right hand in the Due de Broglie; and, personally, | he can bardly place implicit confidence in any of his Cabinet but General de Cissey, It is all very weil for the legitimists to press him to bring back the elder branch of the Bourbon dynasty, and for the Bonapartists to appeal to his gratitude sor the | Jeld Us sata to nave nO Other Mission than to juage _ igh military rank which was con/erred upon him by the jate Emperor. He can do nothing for either of them in the present temper of the Assembly at Versailles without drawing the sword; and there is a growing belief that the army {3 almost as much divided in opinion as the rest of the nation. A large majority of thinking people are certainly in favor of the permaneut establishment of a French Republic; but then, again, the men who have most wealth and influence fear to place themselves under the leadersnip of Gam- betta. And ali those who are desirous o! personal distinction are afraid to attach their fortunes to those of so aged achief as M, Tuiers. M. Grévy, another provable President, has not energy or backbone enough to ‘ead @ party. The liberal Dukes cannot be trasted by republicans, and the whole thing comes to this—that the great liveral majority of Frenchmen is without a recognized chief, It is therefore quite possible, if not prob- able, that the Count de Chambord may have an- other chance for the crown. He has the powerful support of Mme. MacMaion, and she may very likely induce her husband to play the same part as that which was taken by Monk, Duke of Albemarle, at the close of the Commonwealth in England, But no French patriot could look upon this pros- pect with equanimity. The Countde Chambord is a dull, heavy man, obstinate beyond belief, and his wife is a frightened creature who wishes anything rather than that he shouid ascend the throne of France, for she 1s firmly persuaded that he would be assassinated, and certainly that event might happen. There 1s no statesman of energy in the legitimist party, though the half dozen Dukes who have lately come to the tront in Parisian politics might rally round it. What then’ Neither the Duke de Broglie nor the Duke de la Rochefou- cauid-Bisaccia are made of the stuf which can face and dominate a turbuient democracy. ‘The Duke de Broglie has singularly unpleasant man- uers, and he is a feeble-hearted man, of peevisn temper and limited intellect. The Duke de la Rochefoucauld is merely a high bred gentleman whocan enter a drawing room with becoming grace and preside over a state dinner. It is needless to mention the members of the Extreme Right, for tbey are utterly impracticable; but it would not much signify to whom Heury V. confiden the seals of office in his first cabinet. His ministers must either drive the most prominent men of the repub- lican party into exile or the stormy oratory of Gambetta would overwhelm them in a week. Should Henry V.come back his reign would be really only another phase in the French Revolu- tion; and there isno reason to believe that it would not be both brief and disastrous, On the other hand, the Bonapartists are a compact, rich, resoilnte and unscrupulous body, led by a very stout captain in M. Rouher. He may, and per- haps wil, bring the lad at Chislehurst to Paris midst the acclamations of all the jewellers in the Rue de la Paix; but that will notalter the state of pnblic feeling in France, which is growing con- siantly more and more republican, Then, how can any faith be placed in a hobbledehoy whom nobody knows? Persons who had good opportunities of | forming a judgment of this imperial Prince in his boyhood did not carry away @ high estimate either of his abilities or his good nature. It was said, and often said, that he was frivolous, cruel and in- | solent. There is a story of his having had his ears boxed for impertinence, and of his having tortured a swan, and of his having displayed ar early taste jor millinery. Perhaps they maybe true, perhaps faise, but astraw will show which way the wind blows, and it does not blow in favor of Kapoieon LV, | He has been highly educated, he canride weil, he | can speak several languages, he knows as much ; about military affairs a3 can be learned at Woolwich by @ boy who has been taught in respectful whispers by eideriy cfficers who like to be asked to dine at Camden Place, That is about all which Is fairly to be said of him, Moreover, the Bonapartists are quite as much | divided among themselves as to their ultimete | views as the royalists; and even they will only ect | in concert to restore the Empire. After that alls mist and fog. M. Rouher and the Empress are ty | favor of personal government as it existed beiore the time of M. Emile Ollivier, but they will have to count with Prince Napoleon and with his numer- | ous clever and most cantankerous followers, The | Bonapartists have no literary support but that | Which may be derived from M, de Cassagnac, and all the lettered hosts of France will combine | steadily against them. M. Rouber will be unable to put down free thought and free speech, eveo if he succeeds in hoisting nim. | self again into power, and ali the freo thought and free speech in the world is in favor of republics. Monarcis, however potent, can po | longer decapitate their enemies or May them alive | or put them on the rack; and no other methods | have yet been discovered of annihilating political | toes. henceforth be based upon public opinion, and therefore, although France may pass through many ® sore trialand see many a dark and gloomy dey, many changes in her destinies, there can be no rational doubt that she will either cease to it is expeered that after the next | | Spirits very deeply, for French Deputies have little | | Tespect for the Speaker of their House and no | Sense at all of his powers, which are rarely exer- | cised, The Bonapartis‘s, however, took the case against M. Gambetta into their own hands, and | ever since he applied that unfortunate epithet to | them collectively they have been assaulting and | threatening him, though each Bonapartist had ,| | got the cap on his own head and found thatit | | fitted him nicely. Every day the Salle des pas | | Perdus or the Gare St. Lazare is filled by excited | mobs of imperialists, and Gambetta starts | for his parliamentary duties surrounded and | | protected by an enthusiastic following ol | Students and workmen. A day or two agoa mid- ale-aged gentleman, probably in search of a gov- ernment appointment, when the Empire is re- stored, stepped out of the crowd, and going up to | the flery Tribune, asked him, with a menacing as- | pect, “Are you Gambetta?” “Yes,” replied the first of the republican orators of France. ‘Well,’’ pursued the middle-aged gentleman, who had ap- | parently waited for tne government appointment | ull he had turned sour, ‘you called the Bonapart- | ists ‘wretches;? I am a ‘wretch,’ and I will cud | your head; take that!” Three times M. Gambetta | has been obliged to go abruptly to battle in this | manner, and twice his head was protected from | being punched by devoted friends, The third time, | namely, on the 11th of June, however, a captain of zouaves gave him a black eye. This officer was almost rent piecemeal by tne mob. He lost his hat; he was kicked round and round the waiting roum and down the stone stairs into the lower hall, until at last twenty policemen rescued him and carried him off to the station. He is in con- tinement now and will be tried for assauiting a Deputy. Party spirit is terribly high in Paris, and gun- powder is in the atmosphere, Day alter day there are duels between imperialists and republicans; but it is to be observed that this mode of conduct. ing political argument is not a new one, anditis a pity that @ people so ingenious as the French have not discovered an original mode of treating with those who disagree with them. In Kngland, George Canning, Robert Peel, Daniel O'Connell, the Dukes of Wellington, Buckingham anda Bedford, with in- numerable Parliament men of less distinction, were obliged to fight tor their opinions, ana the practice of cudgelling a political opponent is per- haps not altogether unknown in the United States, It is only ‘our years ago that a gentleman who ventured to think differently toa bapker baron was waylaid in the street by that nobleman, who had caused himself to be accompanied by a prize fighter, and they both fell together upon the gen- tleman who had reasoned against their interests, and bonnetted him. It was thought about fifty years ago that these impudent tricks might be stopped by ridicule, and when two dukes fought in Kensington Gardens about nothing which ought to disturb the minds of senslble men, some jokers put upa placard stating that “rubbish might be shot | there.” Nevertheless, the practice has come again | into tull swing all over Europe. Field Marshal Manteuffel and General Goeben wanted to go to loggerheads in Berlin the other day, and not long 2go @ public character was publicly fogged by an- other public character in the streets oi Rome. It is quite impossibie to put down folly. Meantime the French conservatives are growing frightened at the resulis of their own imprudence and wrongheadedness, and they have just allowed the republicans to win AN IMPORTANT LIBERAL VICTORY by a majority of eleven. The Assembly threw out the clause in the government bill which takes away the franchise from all those who have not reached the age of twenty-five, so that the period of ilfe at which @ Frenon citizen becomes entitled to elec- toral privileges remains the same as before—that is to say, he may vote as soon as ne is twenty-one years old, This is asharp check for the conserva- lives, and the impossibility of carrying on the goy- ernment is becoming So evident that a dissolution | cannot be long postponed. GAMBETTA IN COURT. His Charge Against Count de Sainte- | Cyoilx—The Prisoner Confesses Premedi- tation—Sentence Passed on the Rowdy Aristocrat. ns {From Galignani’s Messenger, June 16,) The affair of the prisoner, Count de Sainte-Croix, who committed the assault on M. Gambetta at the ‘St. Lazare railway station, came before the Tribu- nal of Correctional Police on Saturday. The case was not generally expected to take place so soon, but as it was one of fagrante delictu there was no necessity for any preliminary judicial proceedings, But few spectators were present and precautions had been taken to prevent any crowding of the Court; the guard had been doubled and only per- | second Class soidier, tally s‘abbed the non-commissioned officer im command of the squad, He was tried by a court- Martial and condemned to death, The sentence Was quashed for a vice of form by @ qourt oO! re- vision, Tried a second time, he got off with four ears’ penal servituae. Family influence placed iin, Instead Of & prison, in a hospital, where he Was @ great lavorite with monks and buns, On ac- count of his fervent professions of religion. He obtained a iree pardon bevore the expiration of the term of his sentence, and again entered the army 45 4 private. He went to Algeria, and was for a time employed as secretary to an Arab Bu- reau. But Colonel de Montfort reduced him for habitual drunkenness Irom the rank of a first to a In 1866 he leit the army, and ever since has lived upon an allowance from his father, But in 1870 the Empire made him a major of Mobiles, and his enemies admit that he did his duty Without reproach during the Prussian war. THE SUNTENCE, The Advocate of ine Republic demanded the ap- plication of the law,.nd in his speech recommended the prisoner to restrain from interfering in public amairs, for which he was not ted, and which did not require his assistance; he should rather regulate his conduct in such a manner as to obtain trom justice the absogation of the measure of interdiction passed to protect him irom his own excesses. The Prisoner—It is mfamons to drag my private affairs into such a trial as thts, The Judge—You have uo right to employ Buch @ Word !o anything said by che pudlic prosecutor. ‘The Prisoner—I withdraw if; the ‘amily council Was obtained against me be ore @ Paris tribunal wip l Was in Algeria and I could not defend toy- sell. ‘The Judge—You might have appealed against the judgment. The Prisoner—! wanted to redress my own wrongs and do justice ior myself, ‘rhe Judge—That remark further shows that you have no moderation aad no control over yourself, The Court, alter deliberating a short time, con- deinned the prisoner to Six montns imprisonment and 200 francs flue. ealaien bumbiest person and the most fastidious a3 critic. Pigrinls vb al # bed) en HN AN, lic—that universal—bo In expression ani #0 SURNAM | thought, [’do not mean to say that it come Se tains no sentuments Wiieh thay NOt De distaste, Erection of a Sintue te the Ant of ot bo some, Aa ths it fas hot 1B, certain aes . 2 \{ tinge of color, 1480 slight as to be almost “Pilgrim’s Progress”=Interésiin Ste | imperceptible. He recognized tne great truth that montes at Bedford—The Life and Work | (iiristiantty does not cousist in names and shibbo- of the “Tinker of Elstow.” Beprorp, June 10, 1874, This pleasant little English town has to-day beep helping ‘history to record still another satire on human fallibility, Two centuries ago Jonn Bun- yan, the ‘Tinker of Elstow,’? was in the prison of Bedford, sutering a long imprisonment of twelve years ‘for conscience sake.” Sweet liberty was offered him repeatedly on condition of his preach- ing no more in public. The athor of “The Pilgrim’s Progress’? rejected all such offers, however, boldly declaring that “if released to-day be should preach to-morrow.” Such stubboraoness in an illiterate tinker was considered worthy only of the con- dignest punishment, and the ‘glorious dreamer” was kept in prison in a miserable hovel which Stood on the old bridge across the Ouse at this town. The bridge and its belongings have long since been demolished, but they wili live in history. Howard, the English philanthropist, was firstawakened to a sense of the need for jail reform by the squalor and noisomeness of this same prison wherein England's greatest proge epic was written. Bed- ford was not only Bunyan’s jail, but one of its suburbs Eistow, a quaint little village, gave him birth, The original of the Siough of Despond is there; the house Beautiful stands on an adjoining sunny slope, and the great plain whereon the City of Destruction lay 1s none other than this wide and beautiful vale of Bediord. This same Ouse now meandering through the pleasant green meadows, and which at times is swollen and turgid, was the mysterious river wuich Christian and Hopeful swam. Every spot in the scenery is associated with “Ine Pilgrim’s Progress.” That little book hag =made sedford famous, and to-day the nobie duke—whose title is derived trom the town—pre- sents a statue to the townsiolks to commemorate } in ail time coming the intimate association be- tween the town and the author of ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress.”* The town is excherantly en /éte, Flags of all na- tions float from the windows, and garlands of gay colors stream irom triumphal arches at the en- trances to the town, Hawkers are selling “The Pilgrim’s Progress” on the street, and photo- graphs of the author are onsaiein all the book stores, The churca bells are ringing out their merriest peals—those very beils the ringing of which Jonn Bunyan had once regarded as one of his own deadliest sins. Thousands of folks, old und young, are arriving hourly by train from all parts of the country and are paying homage to the statue. The statue itself is a triumpu of art. It stands on St. Peter's Green, at the north entrance tothe town, and is a large bronze figure of Bunyan set on a pedestal of gray granite. ‘he figure is about ten feet high, and has a massive, substantial ap- pearance befitting the character of its original. ‘Ihe pose is very happy. Bunyan stands uncovered, and the turned down broad collar, the short buck- All permanent aathority must now and | skin jacket, the big belt, the short breeches reach- ing to the*knees, and the homely looking shoes bespeak the dress of the period. He hoids the Bible open in one hand, while the finger of the other Tests on its page. His countenance is turned heavenward and wears a singularly seraphic ex- pression. The tollowing inscription, graven on the pedestal, and taken from Christian’s visit to the In- terpreter’s house, suppiles the thought present to the artist's min t had eyes lifted up to neaven. the best of books in his hand, The law of truch Was written upon his lips. It stood as if it pleaded vith men. The artist was J. E. Boehm, of London. Three basso relievos on the pedestal were much admired, ‘That on the west side represents Evangelist direct- ing Christian to the wicker gate, On the south side is @ representation of “Christian Fighting Apollyon.’? That on the east is a very fine picture ofthe ‘Three Shining Ones” meeting Christian at the foot of the cross, ‘The ceremony of unveiling was performed by Lady Augusta Stanley, wife of the Very Rev. the Dean of Westminster. The Mayor, Alder- men and Common Councilmen of the town, attired in flaring red robes, platform im rear of the statue. crowd stood around, cheering lustily. The speeches atthe unveiling were commendabiy short, ‘The Dean of Westminster, In one or two pithy sen- tences, contented himself with bidding tuose who had not read ‘The Pilgrim's Progress” go and read it, and those who had read it a hundred times to read sons baving business were admitted. WHAT THE PRISONER SAID, The prisoner on being questioned did not con- test the charge of assault as regarded M. Gam- betta, but denied all intention of striking M. Ordinaire. He acknowledged that he had been condemned, when a private in the marines, to five years’ imprisonment for menacing a petty officer; but, however, only underwent two years of the punishment; also that he had been deprived of the Management of his private affairs in consequence | of his habits of prodigality. To questions put by | the Court he said:—I intended to give a slap in the face to M. Gambetta, but whether I did so, or how I did it I cannot say, as 1 was ina state of too great excitement; it certainly was not @ blow with my closed hand. I raised | my walking Stick afterwards in self-defence. ji M. Ordinaire was toucved it was by acci- dent. As M. Gambetta was defended by the police, | was forced to make an effort to reach him; | admit that the act Was premeditated; it woulda not bave happened had M. Gambetta acted differ- ently; a captain had calied on him the previous evening to demand satisiaction, but be threatened to give bim into custody. The Judge—You did not reflect that M. Gambetta is a Deputy. ‘The Prisoner—He had no right to insult a party to which | am proud to belong. The Jugge—The President of the Assembly had already indicted on him @ disciplinary punisn- ment, The Prisoner—That was perhaps sufficient for the Deputies, but not for me. The Judge—A gentieman should not conduct himself like a cab driver, ‘The Prisoner—That may be, but a Deputy should Tot act as a lache, M. GAMBETTA’S TESTIMONY. M. Léon Gambetta, thirty-six years of age, barrister, aud member of the National Assembly, | deposed as follows:—I was returning froin the A3- | sembly; On leaving the train I went toward the | wreat Staircase leading down to the Place St. Li | gare; the exit had been injudiciously arranged ; | 41 the lateral dovrs had not been closed | could | easily have gone out, aod nothing of this woulkt have happened; at the moment when I reached the landing place ol the great staircase a man | sprang out of the surrounding crowd, darted upon me, and struck me in the face; he was ar- rested and taken belore the Commissary of Police ; 1 went and made my declaration, and then requested to have him brought into my presence that L might establish his identity; his bearing then Was that of @ ian Who having so acted was ready to begin again; he said so himself; | must add that the assault was entirely unprovoked by abytung iu my bearing or in Luat of tne persons | around me, ‘The President asked :—Was It with his fist that he strock you,? Answer—Yes, on the right cheek. ‘The prisoner protested that it was with nis open hand; bat the coutrary was satisfactorily estab- lished, ay was also the fact that the prisoner | brandishea a stick, Which fe!l upon M, Ordinaire | still nobler Monument in their hearts to its author, the assembly adjourned to the Corn Exchange. Bunyan. He was received with great cheering, and began his address as follows :— THE DEAN OF WESTMINSTER ON JOWN BUNYAN, “Ag 1 waiked through the wilderness of worid I lighted upon a certain was a den.’ These words have en transiated into hundreds of languages, and the question has been often asked, Where: wes that piace and where was that den’ The answer given has always been, The name of that place ts Bedford, and the Dame of that den Bediord Jail, This itis which has given to the town o1 Bedior offence, its only’—titie to universal and everlasting fame. (Cheers and laughter.) It is exactly 200 years since Bunyan resoived upon what to liu was @ great venture, namely, to pablish that work which has given to Bediord this immortal renown, and Bediord to-day pays back some part of the debt she owes to him. i shali not, however, sur where there | When he imerposed to shield his friend and politi- | render without @ strvggie the share whict | cal chief, England at large has in your illustrious | Deputy Pchat’s deposition was to a simtlar | townsman to your local ‘cluims, Ssome- efiect, and ht also testided tha: of the three doors | thing of the national and — cosmopolitan usually Jett Ohen for Exit two were closed, so that \he rush Was great through the centre one. THACOUNT DE SAINTE-CROIX. M. Gambetti's assailant is a man of middie height, pale, Win black haircut short and small waxed mustach\s, dressed tn # black frock coat, | with a decuratioy in the button hole, His name is Henri, Raynouardvomte de Sainte-Croix, and he ts the soa of the Maiquis Raynouard de Sainte Croix, a Prefect of the Etre in 1851 and (ever since 1855) ‘Treasurer Paymas\er General of the Department of the Mayenne, Heys the nephew ol three eminent | Bonapartsts—M. d Soubeyran, a member ot the | Versailles Assembly, M, Malaret, an ex-ambasga- dor, and M. de Thorijny, a memver oi the trans- | ition ministry which preceded the coup ddtat | of December 2, He Was born in 1840, At the age of twelve bia father sent him to sea as a cabin character of Bunyan’s works was probably owing to the wandering, gypsy life he ied in his youth as. 4 tinker, and in the more serious journeyings oj Ins alter ile in Wuat may be called Lis episcopal visi- tations, If we follow the track of the young sol- ater, whether in the royal or the parlidmentatian pete (it 18 not certain which), when be so nar rowly escaped the siiot that iaid bis comrade low at the siege of Leicester, we shall find that he Recta. obtained there the materials for his “Holy War? and the “Siege ol Mansoul.”’ When 1 was exploring “the Pilgrim’s Way’ to Canterbury L Was much impressed with the ingenious theories Oi one Of the oMcers of the Ordnance Survey, who neld that the pilgrim of the seventeenth century, Join Bunyan, caught the idea of the Hill of Ditii- culty and the Delectable Mountains from the hilla through which that track meanders; and mignt he occupied a | An enormous | it yet again for the hundred and first time, and | by living out its teachings in their lives torear a | After the platform group hat been photographed | Here Dean Stantey delivered a fine eulogium on | this | its chiel—may I say, without | exist at all as an independent nation or that she will end her sorrows by the establishment of a French Republic op the same modei as that of the United Staves of America, A SCENE IN THE ASSEMBLY. There has been a tumuliuous scene in the As | sembly at Versailles between M. Rouher and M. Gambetta. M, Gambetta called the Bonaparists the delicacy evinced is of a false sort, which will be rather injarious to the prospect oF discovering his whereabouts, lor by not giving his name the best chance of obtaining a Clue to him is lost, and persons who may have seen the Karl abroad or clsewheré may not even know that he is missing. SPANISH ROMORS. Paris bas been excited by a telegram from an using tn Europe Khas Winkel’s steam singer ap- paratus Was drawn and signed at once. Through this treaty, the existence of which nobody knows yet, the Paris Opera House will become once inore the first academy of masic in the world, and Mr. Halanzier is here to recuperate a hundred thes the 600,000 france which he has paid bee Fg Le ican inventor, The lucky manager of on iyrio theatre is ) enthusiastic at whet be calls the | unscrupulous banker at Madrid, who reported that omnia possumus of your compatriots that he | Count fatzfeld’s mission to Spain had for its | couid not help exclaiming to the Minister of Fine | object the renewal of negotiations to place Prince Arts:—"Ces diables de Yankees ne seront contents | Leopold, ot Hohenzollern, on the Spanish throne. que lorsowils auront trouvé le mouen de Save des | This 18 Oficially dented ia Berlia. and Yount Hata. “wretohes,"’ and was called to order by the Presi- | : | dems ‘This ceremony did not seem to amect nis | | boy. For reasons not explained he did not stay | long afloat; bur the next stage of his Iie was that, | | in parsuance of corréstional paternal power, ue | | Was sent to the juvenje penal colony of Mettray, | under the care 0; the \ate lamented M.de Metz. After @ period Of probition there he enlisted as a volunteer in the Third regiment of Zouaves. He | took part in the Italian campaign, and was succes- sively promoted to the rank oi corporal and ser- | geant. He was broken aba a reduced to be | | again @ corporal, aul wih that grade sent to a disciplinary regimen; in Senegal. ‘Tuere, while on varade and undergong punishment drill, he mor- not irom his early Visits to Londen bay the notion of Vanity Fair’ At any rate, we knOW Vhat crowds attendeu his preaching at Zoar chapel in Southwark, and he resis ia the grave of his host, Standrake, the grocer, in the venerable cemetery’ of bunnill Fields. You are right, however, to claim him as your own, for it is the strength of a country aud of a town to have its famous men heid ti everlasting re membrance. Such are the links by whicn they ar bound to the history of a country, and by whi the local greatness of & whole country is boun togetuer, (Obeera) You haye bevome immortal obtained | through tim—take care that you do not let his fame be obscured by your unworthiness. (Cheera.) Turn ing to what may be called his ecclesiastical careers we must remember that he was a Baptist or Ana baptist—a name which ouce struck terror and aise may through whu.e States in Europe; bat which, even in Bunyan’s time, had subsided ‘into a quiet, peaceful community—a sect which numbers om its roll Havelock among its soldiers, Carey and Marshman among its missionaries and Robert Hail among its preachers, | (Cheers I speak only of the dead, but whether jiving ¢ deaa there i8 no other name among them to which all other churches bow the head 80 reverently at to that of John Buayan, You att remember Lord Macaulay's remark that the seventeenth century only produced two men ot original genius—and those two were Join Milton and John Bunyan. (Great cheering.) And | will venture to add to that remark of Macaulay's that in all our Engiist. literature there have been only two works untiver- sally popuiar, and both of these were written by Nonconiormists—one was the work of a@ Preabyte- Tian journalist, and it 1s called “Robinson Crusoe’? (cheers)—and the other was by a Baptist teacher, and its name is “Pilgrim’s Progress.” (Louw cheers.) In fact, the Noncontornmusts have » splendid literature of their own, and we must remember that literature may be channels of grace no less spiritual than sacraments or doctrines, chapels or churches. Bunyan was great as the hero ot toleration, Ha was greater still as a preacher, but beyond alk comparison he is greatess as the teacher of our childhood—as the autuor ol those characters Whose names and faces are familiar to the whole world. As the author of “Pilgrim’s Prozress” I speak to you of Bunyan ip @ world-wide sense—not as a charchman, but as @ Christian to Christians, as a man to men. (Uheers.) 1t 18 one of the great charms of that tmmortal work that we trace no word in it of Baptist or Pedobaptist, Protestant or Catholic. It 18 one Of the lew books in existence (and | know only of six others, and they tn a less degree) which blends in perfection religious in- struction with amusement, and which may be read with equal enjoyment and advantage the leths, In the inerpreter’s house Christian is shown. @ garden and itis pointed out to him that “tue flowers are divers in sbape, in quality, in color, mm smeil atid in virtue, and some are better than some; but when the garden is set they quarrel not with one another.’ And yet there is no compro- mise in his words, no faltering in his convictions; but his admiration is reserved for ali things that good tmaen love and his detestation for those which ull good men detest. (Cheers.) Though & Puritan and @ Calvinist he was not afraid to take the framework of his story trom Catholic sources—the pilgrim’s habit, the wayside cross, the armor of the crusager, the ringing of the bell at the wicket gate. Never was there such @ combination of Protestant ideas with medievat forms seen before and never since. With all its famil- larity it is never projane ; with ail its religious fervor it 1s never fanatical; witn ail its homeiiness it is never vulgur. (Cheers.) It 18 a work of pure art and true genins, It is a “well of English language undefiled,” and of pure Christian thought. It gets into the hegrts of men, and meets the spiritual heeds of our common human nature. And as John Bunyan walked your streets what manner of man was he? Let us realize bis appearance es he stands beture us in the descriptions of his con- temporaries, and as he is 80 admirably presented to us to-day by the scuiptor. He was “tail in stat- ure, strong-boned, with sparkling eyes, wearing his hair on his upper lip after the old Britisa fashion, his hair reddish, but in later years sprin- kied with gray; his nose well cut, his mouth not too large, hi8 forehead something high, and his habit always plain and modest; in his manners mild and aitable, not given to loquacity except oc- casion required it, choosing never to speak of bim- self, but rather lowly in his own eyes; abhorring lying and swearing.” He was a man of the peo- | Ple, and the characters he draws for us are drawn from the life. You and I, as well as he, have met with Mr. By-ends, and Mr. Face- both-ways, and Mr. Talkative. Some of us, peter may have seen Mr. Nogood and Mr, Live- loose, Mr. Hatelight and Mr. Implacable. All of us have at times been like Mr. Ready-to-halt, Mr. Feebiemind, Mr. Noheart and Slowpace, and Short- wind and Sleepyhead, and “the young woman whose name was Duil.” (Laughter.) Sosurely as the pilgrimage which he dreamed ts the ptigrim- age of every one among us, 0 surely the coin- panions and the neighbors whom he saw in his dream are ours, and all of us need tu be cheered by the help of Greatheart, of Holdiast, of Vaiiant for the Truth and good old Honest. (Cheers,) Some of us have been in Doudting Castle, some in the Slough of Despon® some have experienced the temptations of Vanity Fatr, all of us have to climb the Hill Difficulty, all of us need to be in- structed by the Interpreter in the House Beautt- ful, all of us bear the same burden, all of us need the same armor, all of us have to pass through the wicket gate, all of us have to cross the dark river, and jor ali of us, if God will, there wait the Shining Ones at the gates of the Celestial City, “which, when we see, we wish ourselves among them. (Great cheering.) Earl Cowper and the Revs. Dr. Brock (Baptist) and Dr, Allen (Congregationalist) followed, eacir delivering eloquent addresses. In the evening the town was illuminated, and 3,000 children were each presented with a copy of the “Pilgrim’s Progress. Bedford has probably never seen a greater stir m her streets or celebrated a more successial seve than she celebrates to-day. ART NOTES, Uaptain Charles Mercier is engaged on a iarge picture of the Disraeli Cabinet, which is commis- sioned for presentation to Mr. Disraelt. The total cost of maintaining the British Ma- seum since its fonndation, in 1753, to March 31, 1878, has been £3,452,863 88, 94. The amount expended for purchases (from 1863-4 to 1872-3) t¢ £334,197 11s. 6d. The same since the foundation of the Museum, as above, is £991,543 16s, 11d. The representations made to the British govern- ment by many artists, who desired that certain : pictures in the collection of the late A, Barker. Kisq, should be acquired by the nation, have been 80 far successful that Mr. Fr. W. Burton was enabied to secure pictures the aggregate prices of which amounted to £10,000, Some of the most desirable works were, however, not obtained. M. Griiner bought some exceilent and some invaluable works for the Prussian government. The follow- ing were purchased for the National Gallery:— Vivarini’s "Virgin and Infant Saviour; C, Tura’s “Madonna;” B. di Siena’s “Madonna and Infant Saviour,’ Crivelli’s “$8. Catherine and Mary Mag- dalen, and Madonna in Ecstasy; P. della Fran- ca’s “Nativity,” so-calles L. Signorelli’s Triumph of Chastity: B. Pinturicchio’s “Three | Llustrations of the Story of Griselda,’’ and Botti- | cellis? “Mars and Venns,” Venus reclining. It t# very unfortunate that the fine “Memiinc” was not red. M. Grtiner bought the “Bellini” and the rgione Landscape; G. da Fabriano’s “Ma. Previtali’s “Madonna; L. di Credi’s “Madonna; and another “Madonna” and altar piece, ‘The number of works sent into the English Royal Academy for selection this year was larger than on Last year, “The Dream of Piiate’s Wife,’ Doré’s last pic- | wre, is said to be the most brilliant of all the tm- | aginings that great artist has thrown on canvas, | Bradiord’s “Crushed by the icebergs” is on view in London, and attracting considerable attention. J, R. Planché, Ff. S. A., is engaged on a work of the utmost iinportance to artisis—a “Cyclopedia | of costume.” “The Portfolio” for June has interesting papers on “Velasquez” and “Greek Sculptures on the West Coast of Asia Mindy.” Phillips’ “Bella Fiorista at Seville Fair’ sold lately in London for £4,500, je Art Journal” tor June has several beautiful | engravings. The most important represents the interior of a Russian peasant’s home, “On the Brent,’ by furner, was lately sold by | Christie & Manson, of London, for 625 guimeas. | Pictures in Loudon and Parts are bringing very high prices. A collection belonging vo Mr. Straus- | berg soid for $93,310 in gold. | ‘Troyon’s “Environs of Honfenr’ sold for $5,200. | | The memorial statue to Maximiltan, Emperor of Mexico, by Schelling, of Leipsic, is at the imperial joundry of Vienna. It will be erected in one of the public places of Trieste, | Lord Byron ts to have a statue in Venice. 170t has sold the picture by Murillo presented to lim by the ex-Queen of ne It was pur- chased by the Marquis de Greffuhle, at Drouot’s, for the sum of $24,000, An engraving of Maclise’s great picture, “The | Meeting of Weilington and Blucher at Waterloo,'? | will be issued bythe British Art Union next year, | _ Mr. Page is at work on @ portrait of President | Robinson, of Brown University, Rhode Island. This artist will soon leave for Europe to pursue his studies in connection with the supposed cast of Shakespeare's face which ts said to exist in Ger- sec | donna;” Calverly is modelling abust of the late Rev. om Witt, lor years pastor of the old Dutch church. a very pre tty littie picture ala gue.” * which he calls THE THIRD TERM, [From the New York World.) Heaten here President Grant made a more stubborn fight for the Washington tileves, a fight so stubborn and at so critical ® moment that the republican leaders were abso~ | lutely driven into a corner and compelled to elect between openly and utterly succumbing to the scullions and the stock jobbers, and knocking them down outright at the risk of knocking down by jen Grant with them, The action of the | President and of the Senate respectively, in the case of Shepherd has completely identified Prest~ dent Grant with the seullions and the stock jobbers, Ihe goes out in 1xg6 they go out. If he stays they stay, And this ia the exact position of things to-day in regatd to the question of the | age ver.