The New York Herald Newspaper, September 16, 1874, Page 13

* HAYDEN'S EXPEDITION. An Active Exploring Campaign in the Elk Mountains. BLUE JACKETS OF THE HILLS. The Pleasures and Perils of an Ascent of Mount Daly. A PARADISE FOR HUNTERS. Temporary Halt of the Expedition on Account of Illness. HAYDEN'S EXPEDITION. In Camp Foor or Mount DaLy, ELK RaNnGk OF ROCKY MOUNTAINS, 260 Mines West oF DEN August 29, 1874 Bitting here in this deep valley beside the roar of Snow Mass Creek, begirt by granite peaks, the ‘Wearled faces of our mountaineers flitting here and there behind wiliows and pines, peering into the tent tn which one of our companions is thought to be dying trom sheer exhaustion, I confess I am perplexed as to how to begin to record the excit- ing life of the past five days. It has been an expe- rience so unreal to the Eastern traveller, and, in fact, 80 unreal to ourselves that it compresses itseit into one of those flinty, isolated chapters Which we quietly stow away, as soli- tary = moniments in our life's history, for the silent reverie of those years when * we all hope to look upon self-sought adventure as @ reckless passion .{ our youth. Not that any of us have been assailed by hostile Iudians or plunged into profound chasms, leaving us objects of unsighuy mutilation, but rather that we have been placed in positions which we do not court for the second time, ana in which, as they are now past, 1 discover an excitement which, if it had been given a loose reign in the critical moment, Would have cost us our mortal oils, This is all characterized in the parlance of the explorer a3 “A SIDE TRIP.” Query, then, what is a side trip? J will try to de- scribe it. We travel in these mountains with twenty-two animals—eight horses and fourteen mules. Ten of these mules bear cumbrous packs, eacb of which weighs about 300 pounds, making a bulky burden 0° 3,000 pounds, or one ton and ahalf to be transported from camp to camp, regardless of altitude or profoundness of depth, rain or shine, Contained in these stores are our dally food, tents, cooking apparatus, instruments and | bedding. All of these articles must be packed and unpacked night and morning and stowed ‘ander appropriate covers away from expos- ure. It is manifest that no such labor an be performed by man or beast, when one must penetrate thickly wooded and unexplored jungles or ascend great steeps covered with fallen timber tienlar métting 1 made up my mind that 4 would hot lose him; for to lose your guide or leader in going throngh mountains like these is to lose your- self, and wituout much experience in trailing you may remain jor days wandering in the forests Without 1ood or fire. After penetrating the thick and sharp pointed branches of a pine forest, com- pletely flung up @ gorge, we tinued our journey to westward, Moraines of a long, tomb-iike shape, are seen in every directior ana there tiey stand, mourniul sepulchres of once mighty physical age, when the grinding ice Piled up thousands of feet, carved out the valleys aod amphitheatres, apd as huge and many- edged chisels, completed THE SCULPTURE OF THE CONTINENT. The lesson of jong past infinite ages is so simply and yet so emphatically written upon tne country before you Lnat you can trace the history ol the earth without efort. Was it not a wise provision of Providence, or, indeed, one of those lbmutuble saws that reveal themselves trom time to time, that we can from tho-e upturned srrata study the gradual buliding of the giobe? Plan- etary architecture has, by these mountains, been developed into an accurate service, from which tuture years willdo much to eliminate the mass Of speculation outcropping at every point. Yet geology is not the ouly branch of human s.udy where the fancy must sustain the fact. Human history itself i8 80 Complex and coniused that It hag required the finest intellects oi the ages to explain the deductions of 4,000 years of activity, and yet educated mankind js divided as to the re- sults, The Assyrians, although leaving us tablets and abundant hieroglyphic sculpture, buried their alphabet with the decline of tueir race. Egypt, with her imperishable monuments set like eternal jewels along the banks of her great river, emblems made our | way up the side hill of @ long moraine, and con- | of astern civinzanon unmatched since the lapse | of thirty centuries, Voucusafed us no elementary key by which we can read the endless hiero- | glyphies graven on her temples; and in the mys- | kind, terious Orient, where the human race still dwelis in greatest numbers, Mencius and Coniucis are placed on the boubdaries of authentic history. ‘urning from this uncertainty and doubt as to our ow startling docs It m when we con- sider the .act that as we con; stratum after stratum of these Rocky Mountain formations we read of the futdity of the earth, of the age of aler and of creation ‘ollowing creation untu we come down to man, finding in each of these chap- ters histo ical materials hidden away in the rocks and which no human life can gaimsay or cause to perish, lor they are everywhere. And thus has the patient geologist unrolled his scroll of the | hundreds of millions of years that our planet has exisied, bringing vividly tu our minds the stu- pendous character of the divine organism. As I wander about these mountains every peak is io me a chapter of tnis histor; every rivulet a phrase: text lor which no alphabet but the eye can ever find application. Mountains, I know, are common enougi—impressing you as phenomenal. But here is an empire of them. So many, in fine, that were you born here, anterior to the age o: railroads, a plain or level couniry would be a natural wonder, Aiter a severe ride of fifteen miles with our ani- mais, during which one Of ou; mules was precipi. tated down a steep hill with his entire burden, we arrived at the foot of @ huge mountam which we have decided to name Mount Daly, in nonor of Chief Justice Charies P. Daly, President of the American Geographical Society, in recognition of his great and varied attainments as a geographer, aud Lis long devotion to scientific and wsthetic pursuits. But we must first ascend it, for this is the main object o! our side trip. IN CAMP AT FOOT OF MOUNT DALY, We pitched our three small tents beside the | creek (Jaly Creek), Hardly had we driven the stakes before a rain storm began, rendering the night bleak and disagreeable and boding no good for the morrow. ‘Tat morrow came and with it no sun, but in its stead great masses of dark clouds hung over the gorge and shut the mountain peaks irom view. ve ate a Wet breakiast that morning and not many nor cheerful were the | jokes that teil (rom the down turned corners of our wor rendered all but impassible by treacherous | bogs. In such an emergency the main camp is Pitched at the debouchment of the main moun- tain stream along which you are moving, and you detach two strong and well seasoned pack mules to do the perilous work, perhaps twenty miic3s distant. This is what we did at daybreak on the 230, after we had spent the night on Snow Mass Creek. Professor Hayden had decided upon a side trip to Capitol Peak and the imposing mountains which terminate the Elk Mountain range to southward and westward. John, our picturesque, weather beaten and potato loving cook, therefore stowed away four days’ pro- | visions in a pair of mess boxes, giving us a ham, a saddle of deer, flity pounds of flour, potatoes, hominy and coffee, and the coarse condiments, With the two muics deserving of the most dis- ‘tinction on account of their previous exemplary behavior, “Hoggy” and “Mersie,” Dr. Hayden, Mr. Hoimes, the artist, Mr. Chittenden, the topo- grapher, Mr. Broadhead and your correspondent | and our packer, Fred, started out on THE EVENTFUL JOURNEY. Fred deserves a word. He is to a certain extent typical of many of the hara working men to be found in the mountains, strange that he came out here a confirmed inva- lid, Brought up by his parents, weil-to do people in Cleveland, Ohio, he took to medicine, studied ‘with a doctor of standing, and fluaily went to Ann Arbor University, where he attended a course of lectures, His lungs weakening and his general health declining, he came to the Terrttories eight years ago, and here nas he followed a roving, hard working existence until he is now capable of the greatest physical endurance. To see this narrow: chested but otherwise well developed man slinging a pack of 300 ponnds one would hardly beileve that he came here the picture of emaciated feebleness, stricken with the terrivle disease. Yet thisis not the case of one oniy. and barren rexions of the Union—drive many men, destined for placid, professional lives, to the Rocky Mountains, where eventually they adopt the calling of the mountaineer, and are ready to accept any employment however menial. But do mot imagine that these men accept also the obli- gations of the serving-man, feeling any personal inferiority, or submitting to any exacting con- trol. Like all mountaineers, even resembling those haughty and courageous inhabitants of the east- ern Caucasus, they are thoroughly independent, often imsudordinate, and can never be made to act under military When I first came into the mountains I was no less surprised than shocked at what I altuough it may seem | ta radius of 100 miles, Weak lungs—the curse of the bleak | minor st mouths, lost day on an expedition of this character is a great deat. Besides I o.d brought nothing with me in and a goodly supply of the narcotic comforrer— not even outa doleful column for the HERALD. We buiita big camp fire and gathered around tt, wonvering all the while what Moulton had sald of Beecher, if Beecher were still intent on_sell-destruction, and if the saintly Toeodore and the white-souled Elizabeth had again sought a common roof. The question of tue immortality of the soui runnin, into a multitude ot side issues drove us to bed, and we rose the next morning with no fairer prospect than beiore. We dec.ded to try. To lose three days Was too much. Our horses were captured on the sward and duly saddled and then we plunged into the wood. Avout halfa mile from camp, on a precipitous niil side, we were unable to proceed jurther with our animals and there we tied them. THE ASCENT. , The ascent of mountain peaks, I knew from a er experience in the Alps aud in other ranges Europe, Airica and Amer.ca, 18 not the dain- ties! Of pastimes. Moreover, from my brief sum- iner’s stay in the Rocky Mountains I nad learned tat there are other amusements much less fatigu- ing than mountatn-climbing. The wearisome character of tne ascent 18, however, generally diminished by your ability to ride your animal to | Butin | within, pernaps, 5)0 feet of the sumuinit. the case of Mouut Daly we were ovliged to leave our horses at the base and climb up the sharp in- cline, Dr, Hayden, the oest of mountaineers, and who, if he were in Kurope, would be tit tor a high place among Alpine heroes, led the way over the wet and tuited green. It was hard climb- ing, the angle being over sixty degrees. ‘The effort would cut the wind and set the lungs: panting and the breast heaving, watil I 1ound {had enjoyed a new, 1 a disagreeaple, sensauon. Slowly we reached tim- ber line, about 11,000 teet above the sea, the mean- while grand scenery breaking everywhere on our vista, despite the continuous drizzle and the wild havoc that seemed to be piaying with the clouds, In a former letter { had something to say of the monotonous grandeur of the scenery, and ex- pressed the opinion that too much suplimity was not sublime, nor too much beauty beautitul. While more than ever impressed witu this convic- tion, 1 cannot deny that irom the summit of every fresh peak you behold sometuing new and strange, some other phase of earth sculp- ture, some other shade of nature's best works. In order to take every advantage of your situation in climbing @ mountain, you should not hastily rush tor the tip top without turning your face toward the panorama spread out belore you. With every additional hundred feet of your ascent you can take anew view and have an enlarged horizon, thus gradually enclosing the attractions Having reached the minor summit, 13,300 feet above the level of the sea, we determined that we would make an effort to reach the loitier summit, But upon a close in- | spection of the distance between us and the base discipline. | then considered the bravado of these men as they | gathered sbou! the camp fires at night, and woula tell of how they had replied to an order of a su- perior with a “Go to hell!” or “Drop on yourself, | you tender foot!” Ithen made up my mind that of the higher cone, we found that we could not every valley a paragraph, , ilcombining to make a | Tt was plain that 1t was a lost day, and a | my saddie bags but my favorite pipe | paper, on which I might have drawn | bridge this space without a perilous descent down | & precipitous crag, nearly perpendicular and whose furmation in the main consisted largely in loose, | iragmentary rocks Hable at any time to tumble two thousand feet into the chasm velow. We, however, agreed upon the attempt, and Mr, Holmes leading the way We followed oue by one, bracing ourselves against the sides o/ the narrow cut in tue rock, and which was a kind of perpendicular ditch. Every step downward was accompanied by a shower 01 stones, large and small, loosened Irom their depositories, and sent rolling ana tumbling below. work, during Which a single misstep or sitp would have cost any one of usa ilfe, we made in about | ten minutes, Through shale and loose small stone we made our way to the base of the cone and found ourselves enwrapt in clouds, We soon discovered | that tney were raiuciouds, containing also hail if it should be my evil fortune ever to command | such subordiuates as these, that they and not 1 would “drop on yourself’—a drop from which I conceive they would not be apt to rise. I am wiser now, and mountaineering among the ‘old timers” has taught me that you must take them for what they are and what they are worth, which is considerabie. Unlesa you are born among them as aleader, you are, as a novice, like a gentleman landsman among old salts. They are THE BLUE JACKETS OF THE MOUNTAINS, even, I might say, more so, They eat with you; they interject quaint mountain phrases into the body and soul of your repartie; they take the first shot at a deer if you happen to be elevating your rifle at the same time; they look upon the con- ventional gentieman as ® tender sapling of soit flesh, and denominate him ‘‘one of those high- toned bugs.” Much of this spirit 1s, doubtless, due to the opposition to army imperiousness which is common to all civilians, aud especially to Civilian shooting men. Yet beneath this ‘I am ne” exterior their runs a deep vem oi genuine, kindly feeling breaking outin distress, and manifesting itself in every emergency where humanity should shine. I am, therefore, decidedly pleased with these men, and this jeads me oiten to inquire into their former lives, which, without a single excep- tion, 1 have ound to be tinged by some piercing sorrow, of which they speak and think with reluc- tance. 1 know that you can meet no person, not even the chirping schoolgirl, who wili not coni- dentially assure you that she longs to die—that a gnawing ache is cating wway her licart. Does not every comviy maiden dream that her Itfe would make @ thrilling novel? And are men so different? But these mountaineers do not turn their backs on cities and homes in @ mere spasm of maudlin sentimentally. tence when they come here they remain. Having elicited irom Fred some of the facts of his early le a8 we rode down through a deep canyon, I spurred my jazy horse order to overtake Dr. Hayden. Now my horse is the healthiest, strongest and snapeliest animal in the oucit; but he is terribly lazy, ter riply hesitating; always going on a wild leap over @ bog, into wich, if very wide, he is sure to plange; waiking when the other animals are trot- ting, but always going at lightning speed when due notice is given nim that sucn a pace is de- sirable. He is either a very slow or a ver. horse, and like most do-nothing animals is ‘alwa: eating. Dr. Hayden, mounted on a matchiess ateed, gene: + rides away from me, and it is only BT WPS Wahl recover DeckANeGE: Ym tha pare and snow. Seeking shelter behind one of those overhanging rocks which abound on all mountatns of this character we waited until the storm had spent its force, the while shivering in the cold. Itsoon became the opinion of the ey that to ascend the additional 300 1eet would ye supererogatory, for during dense clouds and Wet weather nothing can be seen from the peak- tops. Besides all this, we had but 300 feet to go, anu there, at 13,300 feet above the sea, was a mag- nificent stretch of scenery. An ocean of feecy clouds billowed thousands of feet below, over tne ae covered valleys, plied up hike huge snow anks on the stream sides. So isolated were we that the top of Mount Daly seemed as an tnde- pendent sphere in the universe, with nothing but cloud land around it. Sopri’s peak, now a homely, unromantic ridge, was on our ba he named alter an enterprising prospector, who made his fame and money years ago. Then on our left the loftierand majestic Capitol, with its Sharp spire of dark granite, rose the sullen senti- nel of Snow, Mass and Daly peaks A LITTLE BMERALD LAKELET, fed by the perpetual snows, was nestled on the side of the new Damed mountain—a most beauti- Jul feature of the landscape, and 1,000 feet below. In fine, all that makes any Visible portion of the globe fascinating was at our jeet—citff, valley, gorge, stream, lakelet, jorest, hill and dale, in every variety and form, with winter at our level, and below, the genial atmosphere of summer. ‘timber line on Mount Daly is 11,000 feet above the sea. ‘he peak is barren, black and jagged, making it dificult and danger- ous of ascent, Its composition Is granite, with masses of Vas hea showing it to be igneous in its origin. Situated on the east and looking at itfrom tne Roaring Fork, it appears five miles around the base, ten miles from the end of the range, With an approach to its summit by passing over five terraces. Altogether it isa fitting mon- ument, erected by the hand of God and discovered by the agency of man, to commemorate 4 lite type cal of the grandest possivilities of our institu. tious. A NARROW ‘ESCAPE. Dr. Hayden and myself began the descent at three P, M., Messrs. flolmes and Brodhead taking & ew direction, Subsequentiy the clouds lifted, and, clear Weather supervening, tney reached the summit, found to be 13,600 feet high. ‘To go down a steep mountain 18 Not a pleasant occupation, as we found When We reached the narrow cut in the perpendicniar rock, up which we were obliged to climb in order to go down aiterward. Dr. Hayden began to scaie the crag. As 1 saw lim trom a dis- tance nervously clutching at every stone that dizzy height, 1% did not ardent spirit of emuiation, over rock and stone, and soon, With bated breatn, was at the foot of the precipice. Dr. Hayden was overhead, thirty feet above me. 1 began the task of scaling. Step by step, I marvelied how an, one could Make progress without foothold or hand- hold, Reaching @ piace where | thought it would be impossible that 1 could proceed further (and it ‘was death to turn back), 1 wondered what had be- Come Of the Ducker Ab Ghis iumciure 1 beard Lum One hundred feet of this kind of | | tg leutenant colonel of the Twellch regiment, is | 13 an excellent shot; but his eyes are against offered @ support eager ap ee aba | me with the most 1, however, climbed | NEW YORK HERALD, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1874—QUADRUPLE SHEET, jut and cal!ing my name, ‘Look out, there! Loox | ous, there! A rock: A rock!" > enough, directly apove and dashing down the harrow ditch in which I was Working wy way up was a ten-pound rock. What stoud ido’ tdare not iet go either han for ten seconds, dare not sustain any con- siderable sio’k, and could not afford to be brained; but no time was to be lost, Weil, I simply @aue & feene and momentous demon- strauion with my left hand, and committed all else to the Continental Congress and Co. The stone came. It gasiied my hand. I gave way for a moment, but scon recoverel and con - tinued the ascent, harassed beyond Sesoreeae * When we had voth arrived at the summit Dr. Hayden declared that he would no more of that. It was nearly three hours beiore we were again fa our saddles, riding Where grizzly bear and black-tailed deer And tiles or fallen timber, In valley, canyon, far and near, ‘Midst Dogs and saplings limber, somewhat diversified the route pursued by our ob- streperous mules and hungry horses. We had left our companions to their own hopes and adven- tures, and that night we ate a hearty meal and slept a sound sleep. SHOT A BEAR. Mr. Holmes, the scientific artist, is the best Muvuntaincer we have amoug us, and day by day he perturius the most daring and worthy éxiloits, never failing in an undertaking, never losing a trail, never giving up the ascent of a peak wich he has “spotted” as his own game. Alter his hard | day’s work on the top of Mount Daly, during which he bad sketched the surrounded scenery with rare fidelity to tue outiines of nature, he made the descent of the mountain on the western side, com- ing down a “shde—that 1s, a deposit ol sale and | small stones—an operation which is expensive to the apparel and the smootiness 01 one’s Skin 4$ well, It was near dusk as he wandered through the timber, very much fativued and anxious to reach camp. The sun had come out in @ golden burst near the edge of the horizon, and the clouds hud litted in ail directions, Hoating away to other valleys. As our hunter was meditating upon the peculiar de- sirabiiity of a warm and plentiiul dinner andr jotcing that he had but two miles between him and a satisfied stomach, he saw about thirty leet before tum, lying across the trail, and “behind a large log, a tult of grizzly fur. He halted and examined nis it was hot loaded. He ‘elt for his carcridges; there was but one lett. Unluckily he had expended tae rest of his ammunition on fleet and distant deer, With this solitary car- tridge in his possession he awaited, results. Presently the ur began to'rise and the crouching object proved to be & huge bear, The noise that Mr. Holmes had made tn his ap- proach had aroused the torpid Bruin, and, ele- vating him-eilf on hts bind legs, he opened his Sleepy eyes aud stared at the resolute artist, A | Tainute or two o: ims kind of meditation con- vinced Bruin that be had better be of. So, gatuer- ing up his ponuerous fat, he jour-legged it 10 a place of greater security, The huuter now decided that he would try for that game, although but @ single cartriuge was in bis outfit. it is very dangerous to undertake an exploit oi this k.nd, for if a ferocious beast 13 wounded only he will turn upon you and perhays send you into the presence of the Great Spirit with rapidity. Dr. Hayden ceils me that in Moutana, without gan or weupon of any kind, he has been out exploring alone, and that he has often encountered a dozen large vears ut a time, passing wittin six feet of them, and that they hever made the slightest sign of opposition or ais- played a symptom of iright, Il, however, as he says, they had been provoked by a shot r other hostile sigu they would have made snort work of hia, From his accounts, covering the experience orf twenty years among these mountains, 1 should Judge that the habits o the African lion resemble | those of tue Rucky Mountain vear. In Abyssinia and Northern Airica the lion is a household pet until he attains the age of six | months, wheu all at once he develops a ferocious in- | Stinct and is nv longer a safe and dove-iike beast, The same is true o1 the grizzly. Lions, too, are hot naturally vicious save when unduly excited by opposition or uriven by the craving of hunger. Leave them al ne and they will leave you aiona, and I believe this rule is broad enough to apply to our own huwan kind. In ninety-nine cases oul of 100 the bear will not touch or binder you. What- ever he might do with a tender morsel like a babe or two, ne would never bother an adult. Mr. Hoimes was theretore quite safe in hailing the fleeing Bruin, exclaiming: “Boo! boot? When the bear heard this friendly | saiutation he turned around and approached. Again, about thirty feet from the rifle, he reared up on his bind legs, exposing his white breast to the hunter and looking at him with a sel!-satistied air, as if to say, “Look at me, hobby human being, What do you think of me for hign?” Mr. Holmes Was no longer uncertain, He DECIDED TO FIRE, although fallure would expose him to almost cer- | tain death, bis only chance being to climb into the bushy top ol a siendergpine, were Bruin could not go. He raised his rifle, took his sight, and the = bear, still with that same compiacent look, | peered into the mazzie aud himself seemed fascinated by the sheen of the weapon. A sharp crack, the beast whiried around, dashed off furiously, but fell flity teec trom his | former station a dead bear. ie was plerced through the heart and lungs, and seldom has one been more thoroughly Killed by a single stot. Then could he say, but with emotions aiffering somewhat irom those ot the poet:— In the place where the grizzly reposes, Under peaks where a right 1s wrong, Thaye memories richer than roses, Sweet echoes more sweet than a song. To have killed a bear 1s an honest and pardon- able pride, but to kill many of them 18 severe labor—a statement that will apply to nearly all mountain game. This 600-pound monster had to be skinned and dressed, and it needed halt | a day tor this work. ‘Ihe skin when obtul.ed was, however, worth $100, and it now ornamenisa plat of green iniront of my tent. We have seen cords of bears in these mountains, scarcely a duy pa-sing when we do not pass fulilies of them, Elk are | ratner scarce, but deer are very abundant; and | indeed, though long a traveller and hunter, I have never seen such a region as this, Two hours alone ought to suilice to gather enough game to make any sportsman proud. But miners are coming in. Settiers will gradually select the choice plots, and , then elk and all will fly to other and more secluded quarters 01 the continent. SICKNESS IN CAMP, On our return irom the side trip we found that a comrade whom we had left quite ill had grown worse, his lever assuming a dangerous character, | threatening death. As] write his iate is still un- certain, and J ouly allude to the eit subject to draw irom it a useful lesson, that may be of value to those contemplating a Rocky Mountain journey. He came here sick. which, in his anxiety to push torward with the expedition, he studiously con- | cealed. ‘Che iong and tedious marches, the raggea country over which one 18 obliged to travel, the shitting temperatures and the mountain malarta are apt tu shake any unseasoned constitution, young or old. It 1s the sheerest folly in the worid to imagtne that @ young gentleman of deli- cate habits can be suddenly thrust into the mountains, to ride mules, eat beans and sleep nightly in pudaies of water, without suilering in- | jury to heaith; and if one does start on the down hill he ts not apt to recover while with the expedi- tion. Dr, Hayden tells me that he had more than 500 applications lor appointments on his survey tor a single trip, the majority offering to pay their own expenses, The sirongeat influences have been invoked to secure the appointment of inva- lids to come out, in order that they may fabricate new constitutions, But this 18 @ poor place tor them, with an exploring party, where it taxes the greatest strength, courage and endurance to com- plete a single season, ‘The sertous ilineas of Mr. Shanks has resulted in the temporary inactivity of this section ol the ex- peaiton: and we ail await the result witn anxiety, ut fearing the worst, THE INTERNATIONAL RIFLE MATOH. Choosing of the American Team—G. W. Wingate the Captain, The American team and the reserve who are to compete with the Irish rifemen on the 26th inst. were selected on Monday afternoon at the ofice of G. W. Wingate, No. 194 Broadway. By agreement ® ballot was taken fortwo persons, who were in turn to choose @ third, and so on till the team and Teserve were selected. Messrs. H. Fulton and #H. A. Gildersleeve were selected by ballot, T. 8. Dakin, L. lL. Hepburn, G. W. Yale, J. T. B. Collins, J, Bodine and A. Anderson were chosen jor th team, and & H. Sanford, J. S. Conlin, L, M. Bal- lard, F. 8,Gardner and A. V. Cantield, Jr., were | selected for the reserve. G. W. Wingate was the chosen Captain of tne team. Mr. Henry Fulton is @ iientenant in the Twelfth Tegiment, is twenty-eight years vid, and served in | the army during the wur. He won several prizes wt Montreal this season during the annual meeting of the Quebec Rifle Association, as aid also Messrs. Gildersleeve, Yale and Canticld. H. A, Gildersieeve thirty-three years old, enlisted in the One Hu n- dred and Fiftieth New York regiment during the war, fought at Gettysburg, was with Sherman on his march to the sea, serving the latter part of the war a8 Provost Marshal of the Twentieth Army Corps, T. 8, Dakin is @ brigadier general in the New York militia, 1s forty-three years old. weigns 220 pounds, 18 & guod shot, and S$ Been service durlug the war. L. L. Hepburn is forty-two years oid, a gunmaker, employed in_ tne rifle works of kK. Remington &’Sons, Ilion, N. Y. G. W. Yale 18 also a guomaker, and is superintendent of Sharp’s rife works, Hartrord, Conn. He is forty-eight years old. The two latter gentlemen have had great experience with rifles, Mr. Collins is a law- Yer and lives in New Jersey. He 1s a good shot. Colone! Jobn Bodine lives in Highland, N. J. He is an old rifeman and a good shot ir. Anderson i3 a Heutenant in the New Jersey militia. Although the last among the eignt he stands among te first in the order of merit. Mr. Saniora, of the reserve, is twenty-four years old, is a good shot and a member of the Seventh regiment. J. 8. Conlin is an old rifleman and the proprietor of the Broadway shooting gallery. He him, L, M. Ballard is @ broker, lives in Yonkers and isa good rifeman., FS, Gardner is twenty- two years old, a member of the Seventh regiment, and has made some good scores at Creedmoor. A. V. Canfield, Jr., is a member of tne Twenty-second Feginient. He is the youngest man in the team or reserve, being only twenty-one years old, His scores are usually first class. G. W. Wingate, the captain of the team, is a lawyer, a colonel in the inilitia, President of the Amateur Rifle Club and has taken an active part dw tha ridg shooting at Creedmoar, | Insiey, D. Huntington, J. 0. THE CHICAGO EXPOSITION. Great Improvement in the Art Gal- lery as Compared with 1873. ~ AND NATIVE ARTISTS + THE FOREIGN Pictures Representing the Anerican, English, French, German and Italian Schools. CHICAGO, Il,, Sept. 10, 1874. The art gallery of the Chicago Exposition for 1874 is superior to that of 1873—it could not weil be otherwise. Last year circumstances were par- ticularly uniavorable, There were barely three months between breaking ground and opening the doors, and consequently the art department had to suffer from haste and incompleteness even more than the ovher departments, In the first place the management was incompetent. In the second place anything was taken that had a frame upon sit; chromos that even a religious weekly would disdain to foist off upon its subseribers; the trash that had been lying in local studios with its face to the wall, like King Hezekiah; the uns; Of print shops; even the distorted dr puodlic schoo! children, Then, to make assurance of failure doubly sure, they hung up Armitage’s “Memorial Picture,” the immense and absurd ad- vertising piacard of the London Graphic, tit only to be relegated to a variety show as a drop curtain and able to kill every picture within sight. Even without any of these spectal disad- vantages it would have been particularly diMeult to have organized a first class art department from our local studios and galleries. The great fire of 1871 leit us not one good collection and swept the artist colony out of existence. Most of the Chicago painters quitted the city disheartened and the collectors, between the rebuilding of their destroyed property and the effects of last year’s panic, have been unable even partly to replace their burned treasures, ‘This year, however, timely action was taken and that of the proper character, The gailery was enlarged so as to cou- tain three rooms and a vestibule, occupying in all an area of 120 by 75 feetand affording a hanging surface Of about 50,000 square feet. The gallery was made fireproof and an_ elaborate system of Ilghting, botu for day and hight provided, Mr. H. W. Derby, of New York, was engaged as director, and invested with absolute power as to the selection and dis- | position of pictures. In the discharge of his deli- cate duties he has naturally earned some unfavor- able comment from those who were desirous of perpetuating last year’s system of disorder, but this was only to be expected, He has firmly re- jected all that was of an inferior quality, and even declined to find place for some works which could not very well be hung without duing injustice to adjacent pieces and the general effect. Among one of the rejected pictures is wiat a local critic | calls a ‘bold and vivid work.” I have not seen it; only heard about it, It is described as a parboilea Indian drawing a bow at a venture, under an autumn-tinted mapie over @ sunset-tinged stream, The courtesy with which Eastern artists and col- lectors have opened their studios and galieries to | Mr. Derby speaks volumes for their confidence in him and their good will toward Chicago and West- ero art, The result has been the collection of a gallery of pictures never equalled in the West— the collection being superior to as well as nearly twice as large as that exhibited at Cincinnati last | year—and rarely equalled in the Unitea States. ‘There are about 550 pictures, valued at $500,000, and representing ail the marked exceilencies and | characteristics of the American, English, Frencn, German and Italian schools. Among THE FOREIGN ARTISTS contributing are the following :— PARIS. Fr. Trayon (deceased), M. Guillemin, M. Noter- man, OU. E, Boutivoune, Comte Calix, W. Amberg, Aug. Toulmouche, M. Gérome, Kuwassey; fils, P. Sauvage, M. Perrot, M. Pérignon, Henrietta Rou- ner, M. Leray, Agapit Stevens, M. Cassman, A. | Gamba, E. A. Sain, Jules Goupil, Théodore Frere, A. Savini, Rosa Bonheur, L. Mouchat, Léon Olevie, M. Castazzo, Régi Gignoux, A. Gonzales, M. Che- viluard, A. Béranger, M. Hamman, De Jonghe, Lasalle-Cabailiot, “Cham,” George Devy, A. Pavst, E. Castiglione, Baugniet, E. willier, C. Pecrus, , Kuwassey. pere; M. Caplobiancne, J. Coomans, 'E, Raitaell, P. Leyendecker, P. Con: tin, H. Merle, A. Saudm, M. Sauvay, P. de Coninck, E, Metzmacher, E. Venet Lecompte, M. Dubuie, M, Lambinet, Georges Washington, Th. | Weoer, P, Humicr, M. Bakalowicz, Allred Wahl- berg, Edouard nter, M. Tortez, M. Leyen- decker, Adolph Schreyer, M. Roy vet, M. Carand, M. Levy, M. Rota, M. Schlosser, A. Hue, M. Beyle, M. Deloife, M. Gide, M. Seeldrayer, M. Bauchard, | M. Cuny, M. Lamobron, M. Caiile, M. Henillant, MONIC: ICH. H. Oornichen, Carl Hubner, Gabriel Max, Robert Beyschlug, E. Beinke, W, Meyerheim, Hammer, Robiejsh, 8. Valtz, J.B. Kiombeck, W. Brockoki, W. Pieufer, Edward Hildebrand, Jansen, DUSSELDORF, Joseph Butler, Reiner-Dahien, Van Oss, P. R, Un- terbergen, H. Herzog, Carl Becker, San’ Fantine, B. Nordenberg, K. |. Litschauer, V. de V. Bonfield, Sanderland, H. Hornemaun, J. W. Preyer, A, Sel- gert, C. Schloesser, Jacobsen, BRUSSELS. Meserus, Th. Gerard, De Bylandt, P. Van Schen- del, Cogin, Robbe, Van Severdouck, Tschaggeny (deceased), C. J. Coe Vos, a PF. Ricci, 0. Borriana, G. Ferrara, Cipriana, San- tono, M. Tapiro, Innocenti, CO. Pi Liardo, Spiridion, Romako, Ducro, Novono, Au- derott, LONDON. Cowen, Willis, F. Locker, Atkinson, H. Wild, S. F. Folingsby, George Cooke, Rulie. BERLIN, Steinhardt, Otto Weber, Hildebrandt, G. Engel- hardt, T. Hagen, SPAIN. Leon y Eccossura, Zamacois (deceased), THE AMERICAN PAINTERS, Not local, represented by works are :— M. F, H. De Haas, A. Eldred, 1. LeClear, C, P. Ream, J. R. Key, William Hart, I. D. Martin, J. B. Bristol, G. N. Cass, E. Du Bois, George Inness, Thomas Hill, S.J. Guy, W. Holberton, W. Whit: tredge, William M. Brown, W. L. Sonntag, M. Mor- viller (deceased), B. W. Perry, ¥. C. Wiggins, G. H. McCord, J. U, Nicolls, F, Rondel, David Johnson, J. Hamilton, W. H. Wilcox, Julie H. Beers, A. W. Thompson, George L. Brown, George H. Hall, W. J. Hays, Arthur Parton, A. T. Bricher, Kdward Gay, C. Miller, P, De Luce, Edward Moran, 0. W. Knapp, Harvey Young, A. D. Shattuck, Albert Eaton, Kastman Johnson, G@. H. Story, B. H. Nicholls. W. FE. W. E. Norton, A. Bierstadt, George Hetze’, A. Tait, William De Haas, A. H. Ritchie, Ot: Geoler, Leutze (deceased), T, W. Wood, EB. L. Henry, J. G. Brown, J. H. Beard, M. Vain, Eugene Benson, Jervis McEntee, J. F. Kensett (deceased), J. H. Dolph, W..S. tlaseltine, George Wyman, A, Schuessie, A. Mignot, ‘1. 2. Rossiter, F.A. Silva, Paul Weber, A. Herzog, . Pettit, F. A, Rother- | mel, Milne Ramsay, J. R. Woodwell, C. W. Nichol- son, « — Sail (deceased), T. Buchanan Read deceased), J. . Brevoort, G. P, A. Healy. THE CHICAGO ARTISTS in whom Eastern readers may take an interest H. ©. Ford, H. A. Elkins, Joun Phillips, H. C. ‘Tryon, D. F. Bigelow, Mrs. A. Fassett, Eva J. Ha mond and Annie C, Shaw. With some 500 pictures, contributed by 250 art- ists, almost every one of whom has produced at Jeast one notable work, making his name more or less familiar, any attempt at description or criti- cism is necessarily made at a disadvantage. Many of the works, too, are well known; not a few have been placed before the popular eye through the medium of chromo-lithography or engraving; still many more, particularly in the landscapes and marines, while having their exceliences of conception or treatment, really do not differ in what to the general reader or spectator would be an appreciable dogree irom the better class of pic- tures found in the gallertes of the average col- lector or on the walls in the better class of academy pictures. There, too, has been some aiMcuity in preparing a@ critical and descriptive review, since the work of hanging has been prose- cuted up to the moment o/ the private view last | night, and is not even yet completed.’ ‘Ihe lack of & complete catalogue, too, has been a drawback only to be overcome by boring Mr. Derby. THE PICTURES, E. Dubnfe’s “Prodigal Son’? occupies a room by itself and forms @ distinct department of tne gal- lery and exposition. It naturally needs no de- tatled notice. Commencing with the figure pieces, as inevita- bly those in which the most general interest is dtakem Qe Uuatinaiaita “Bepubigap Court” (Ud | Re aabi 13 challenges the first notice. Indee, thus far it is ' column, to which ts aM@xed a siege prociamation. EE ooo ara, Tiiton, M. | competing Warmly with the “Proaigal Son” for | popaiarity, Ritchie’s engraving bas made tt fa miliar to many people, and the element of histori- cal interest, superadded to its own exceiience and trushiuiness, naturally conduces to make t a cen- tre of attraction. It is an ideal gathewing, of course, the artist grouping some sixty of the-most celebrated Americans of the last decade of the eighteenth century at his own wil! to produce the | | best possible effect. The picture is sufficiently | | well Known, Washington 1s the central igure, a little to the background, with the Duke of Kent, and neighvored by Jeierson and Trumbull’ His wite occupies the leit, receiving her guests at a duis, supported by Mrs. Robert Morris and Nellie Custis, Adams and Hamilton arefurther toward the right, and jorm propably | the mos* dignified and impressive part of the pic- | ture, Washiugton suiters a little, as all central figures must du, and there 1s the inevitable draw- back of conventionality in his case. The right | loreground ligats into beauty and grace with the zed at ail?), Sophia Cre wick and Mrs. Bingham, > groups are such historic Steuben Livingston, Koox and a O1 course there 18° 1b the picture the Work of the portrait painter and the antiquary; nevertheless avove and bevond this there 18 the work of genius, The perfect balance of the picture as a whole 18 attained without any evidence Of painful preaneditation, the grouping is natural and graceful, and the coloring perfect. This latter detail perhaps 18 one of the most impressive on close cuusideration, because the artist las peen in some measure restricted by considerations of nis- torical aceuracy. His mater bave been fu nished anu he has had to mae the best ot them— Lot 80 Casy @ thing as to Combine the meterials of one’s own choice after oue’s Own Jushion. Another Washington pic e familiar to the pub. lic is Rossiter and A, Mignot’s “ioe of Washing- tun aiter tie War’? (i75.) It aitracis attenuon ratuer, 1 think, trom the iustorical int ot the picture than irom anglt cise, since there 1s noth- lug particularly fresh about the subject or vigor- ous about the treatment. At Mount Vernon, Washington (conventional) is taikiny to Lutay- ette upon the sieps of the veranda where sit Mis. Washington nd Mrs, © A negro nurse, with chiuren and dog, & to emplas thougn in somewhat a “stock’” fas the peace or the picture, farther worked ont through the quiet Po- tomac, on which floats a pleasure boat. svriel Max's “Anatomist” (108) 18 one of the Sution pieces of bie covection. ‘Ihe unclaimed bocy of a@ beautiiul girl ound drowned in the lake has been taken to a hospital lor dissection, and placed on the tabie beside a stand furnished With instruments, Looks and a skull, ‘The lace 18 a beautiful and very peaceiui one; the bair, long and auourn, makes With it a more powertul, if less stating contrast, wich the gray pailor of tne y tian would have been secured by more con- tional treatment, The surgeon, intellectual and pensive, pauses in thought ere ue uncov 13 the body to proceed with tis work. ‘That is all, and it 18 either too much or not enough, lor the etfect oO; the picture is unsatisfactory. It leaves an meilaceable aud constanuy recurring memory, ‘That is So much, and possibly wuat the artist de- signed that it should do. but there 1s no story in the face o| the dead Woman, and no sentiment in % of the living man, Itis an unsausiactorily | true picture of an eaucated anatounst paying the - passing tribute of a musing look to the body Which & moment later he will explore as thor- -oughiy With his scaipe! as if it were that of the witch of Endor’s self, Winterhalter’s jusanna and the Elders’ (129) is the only large nude figure of the exibiuon, ‘aud is aduirable, botn for drawing and as a study | | of desh tints, Ihe beautiful Jewess—possibly the characteristics of race, might have been more ciearly worked out, though possiny at the ex- pense of beauty—alarined at her bath by the ap- proach of the iiders, turns a startled lace in the direction of the sound, and catches up her drapery | with bund hands. “PVauvre Amour” (17), by Compte Callx, is one of the gems of the collection, a piece of human | nature in French. A married couple, out of the honeymoon, and just awakened to the fact that they ure boring each other, and that there is no help for it, are strolling down a woodland walk. | He listiessly Knocks off tae heads o! the towers | by the patiway;sbe, Nall in jistlessness, ball in, | sadness, casts a sidewise glance ata toriorn little | stone cupid on a fountain. Angytner French picture worthy of even more | attention than tt seems thus tar to receive, 18 Léon Olevie’s “Faistai and Doli Learsheet? (309). That | a Frenchman suould successiully enter to the , | spirit of Shakespeare, particularly of shakespeare in nis most Kngiishy, jovial, rollicking mood and | life seems at first incredible. Nevertheless Ulevie | has producea an English and a Shakespvearian | work, English beef and beer, capons and sack | | Made up tue Falstaff who sits in lus chair (2 King Henry Ii, 4)receiving vita dignity the caresses of buxom Doil Tearsheet, while behind her Dame | Quickly, arms akimbo, beams her satisiaction at | the sigut and the compelied exit of Pistol, Prince | Hai and Voins have entered behind as drawers, according to the stage directions, and a grotesque Dand of Musicians are thramming and blowing. ‘The detail 1s as good as the conception and 13 | worked out with French care and correctness. | Gerome's “iurkish Merchant” (186) is probably | familiar to many readers of the HERALD. Tne | figure carries a gun upon the shouider and a steel | helmet and corsiet In its hand, Nothing could pe | simpler, Nor could anything be more patient | without degenerating into mechanical and wear | | some detail than the Working out of everything in | | the picture—the fllagree on the helmet, the gun | | barrel, the embroidered robe, the smooth and delt- | | cately tinted face and, above all, the exquisite | | satiny texture of the drapery provoke admira- | | tion, | Hubner’s historic “Silesian Weavers” (55) is | Known to many ot your readers, py reputation at least. It inspired One of the most ringing lyrics ot modern Ger.uany, and Was paid the compliment of suppression by the Prussian authorities When it Wis first exnibited. It is another ‘song of te | Sait.” Men without beauty, strength or hope, | doomed to hard labor, without even the consoia- | tion of desperatioun—thatis the picture, painted | With a repression and reality that intensifies irs | expression and renders utterly superfluous ideali- | | | | faces Ssuion, ation or any trickery of art, Rotherme’s “Martyrdom of Hypatia,’”’ from | Charles Kingsley's book, is @ small picture, full of | action; periaps somewhat crowded. The howling Mob presses jorward with liited fists, potshe.d: | stones, knives, dragging her to her naked vutch- | ery in the church. Apart from the absence or the | idea of compensation in all Subjects of the sort, | there is @ not very successtul attempt to realize the half-affrighted and indignant dignity of the martyr of Neo-Platonism, and the drawing of the | central figure leaves somewhat to be desired in the respect of ease. | ‘Tilton’s “Artist’s Vision” (59) 18 a rather washy treatment of a very hackneyed snbdiect. Three ideal beauties—o! course—appear to—o! course—a sleeping artist. © Infinitely superior is H. Merle’s “Right Path’? | (46) both in idea and execution, with a whoie- someness of tone olten conspicuously absent in French pictures of this class, ‘The artist, with lis pallette ang sketch-book, passes by the entrance of # banquet Chiiaber, rich with mosaics, marble and gilding, aod displaying medaliions of Venus and | herson. On one side a flushed and beautiful woman, | reclining im the arms of her tipsy companion, beck- | ons laughingly to the artist; on tue other another as beautiful, leaning gracelully against a marble column, tenders him a golden Wine cup with half | smiling lips like those described by Anacreon as “provoking & kiss.” The artist, with Nis eye s0- berly and sombrely fixed on duty, passes them by. There is no grossness in the treaunent of the women, thougn the flush of the first gives a suf- ficient soupyon of the actual character of Circe. | | The figures are light and graceful, and the artist | bas improved to the utmost the ample opportu. | nities afforded him for successiul treatment o1 the drapeties and marble surfaces und tne combina- tion of rich colors, | Pp. Van Schendel’s “Annunciation” (101) is a large and ambitious canvas atter the classic fash- | fon, Notwithstanding an admirable effect of the | light that floods the picture from the top anda | judicious mavagement Of draperies, the picture | 18 bara and cold, The artist had made an effort to | realize the scene and spirit of his study—of that | there can be no doubt, lor it is visible throughout | the picture and constitutes its detect. | “Fitting Moses Out for the Pair’ (217), by Mr. A. | H. Ritchie, probably stands at the head of the | ture pieces by American artists, and suggests strongly the English picture “‘Keturn of Moses irom the Fair,” made familiar to Americans, if 1 am not in error, by Sartain, of Philadelphia, | Moses, exultantly meek, is sitting in his chair, | Olivia is critcally giving the finishing touches to ‘his hair, and Sopiua, a little removed, “cocking , Nis hat with pins,” while the Vicar god Mrs, Prim- | rose look on with cheer!ul and complacent pride. Moses’ dog even joms in the mute admiration of | | lis master. It is sufliciently rare that so capital a | study is presented, Ritchie has caugut Gold- | smith’s idea of each member of the Vicar’s family ; @s nicely and thoroughly as Ulivie that of Shake- speare in his “Falstal and Dol! Tearsheet” already alluded to, and has worked it oat with care, but | without any puerility or tediousness, It’ is a | charming picture out of a charming story, told by a pencil that has put on the fresiness and sim- plicity of Goidsmith’s pen. | Mr, Ritchte contributes also a historical portrait piece, “Ine Deatnbed of Lincoin.” it has tne | | merit of accuracy, I should say; the faces are por- traits and the picture is at least as good if not better than Carpenter's; but nove the leas the |): ture 18 NOt an attractive one, whatever its histori- | cul value, | August Tonlmonche’s “Nosegay” (13) is a charm- ing little picture—only @ woman leaning forward 1o smell the perfume of a bouquet of flowers placed upon a table. The theme 18 suMcientiy trifling, but the workmanship is perfection, whether we | consider the delicate painting of the drapery, | flowers aud accessories or the matchless poise of | the fivure. Indeed almost every one of these | French pictures, particularly those of women, 18 | conspicuous for the action of its figures, They prand, jean, move with Parisian alertness and | grace; they have the waik of Diomed, They rise upon the toe; those — of theirs in aspirauon litt them from the earth. Keiner-Dahien’s “Sportsman” (16) forms a stri | ing contrast, and ts as excellent in tis own way; | tail, angular fisherman, who has waded out into | arapid stream to cast bis line. His figure stands | | out with the sharpness of a stereoscopic view. | A New York artist, M, Vain, sends a picture— “atter the War” La gs is destined to create @ | sensation here. It {sa striking subject, treated simply and forcibly. It is @ mother, ard, | gaunt and despairing, holding a dead child in her arms, [tis winter time and there is snow upon AMOW Lice gaa quartered s. | of Mareh. sper | arm thrown round a sheep. | boy draws her forward by the dress and presses | The bride’s carriag ‘This is all the accessory, and serves thoroughly to identify the scene a& Paris in is7l. It 1s a history of the siege and Commune; though, by the way, the Red outbreak only began towarde the middie so that, Gespite popular criticism, £ shail retrench the Commune; 48 cloquent and em- bracing tor the great mass of people as could be the most graphic and comprehensive volume. Comparing this picture with Max's “Anatomist,’”* a Bubdject as painiul, bat with Jess of story, and, consequently, ie3s of interess, wii be lound ia- teresting. One of the ptéces de résistance of the rich vill of am deveribiag is Mouchat’s “Sortie of the rand Council of Venice—Sixteenth Centy ;4 picture that gained for tts painter the oration of the Legion of Honor when it was Xnibited at Pai It contains at least a handred fyures, each ca) y studied, and all admirably erouped—dignitaries. officers, prelates, sweeping: down the broad staircase of the palace and awal across the marble court. Giver such a subyje Wi'h an Ttalian sky and architecture and the lavish Wealth and vartety of costume characteristic of that day, and it will be that che artiat selected Jor himself a rare subj whose possibilities for frouping, drawing, coloring and detail were most itmit Tt is enough to say that in every Y Of th respects he has proved equal to bis ond that the picture isa model of harmony and gr Geor v's “Japanese Fruit Shop’ (13), 1s @ joyous and effective bit of coring: a Japanese belle, en grande tenue, with ctinging draperies that shame those of our most ultra iashionavle dames of the day, fan and umorella, attended by @ Ed roguish, bare jegged little page, carryisg a bage pot, pausing betore @ window filled with irmit, flowers and odd Japanese inicknacks, Another picture that it is protitab with this is the “Pompeuan L mans; one of his best Works tot picture of a be: } voluptuous woman of the later Roman pped with gold and gems, & Woman of a very Cloyiny sweetuess, 3. A, Sains in Capri? (2 pretty, iinished, graceful, dreamy,.& &c,, nore noteworthy aps for 1t8 manner than its matter, When one sets out to paint a Neapoli- tan sky and scene with a broken column, wreathea With Vines, a couple of graceful peasants dancing and other graceful peasants watching them in lazy avendon, to win distinction he must depend om the deli and grace of bis work, In these re cts the picture is noteworthy. Savini’s (248) Is of a weak woman tn red and blue drapery, She is piucking a flower, whereby you kbow that her name us “Leah” and a group of palms in the background suggests iniallibly thas she ts “the forsaken.” A chromo of this, to be led “Rachel the Remembered,” would be suc cessiul, Mr. J. O. Eaton's “Sibyl? (34) is an effective piece, adark Jace sult of iate well set off by biue draperies, Dubale presents an “Autumn” (04), a somewhat conventional dark brunetie, trimmed with grapes. She boids a pair of shears in her hand, and has her ‘this was painted by Kosa Bonheur, and is—at least as to the head— freely and characteristically drawn. Two pictures, alike ip luea, though differing tn merit, are by the late EB. Leutze ‘aradise and tne Peri” (204) and “The Successful Suitor” (320, the satter the fairy prince who rides to his lady love’s fairy castle over a fairy bridge upheld by the iriendly elves, The latter picture is light, gracetul, happy and instinct with poetry, the former disap pouting both in tdea and color, Buchanan Read’s ‘Lady of Shalott’? (400) uw well known to astern readers, but has a sort of boardish, hard form and texture that repel one. On tae other hand, G, HL. Story contributes @ rather neat and vy te littie idyll, “Dream- ing by the Sea’ (; The theme is suMciently commonplace—a child with owing, auburn hair, sad and dreamy eyes and folded hands, gazing wistfully out upon the sea, The execution i delicate, and, if there is ‘not much in’ the pic- ture, still it is always one that wii attract notice apd compel sympathy. 1 might at the outset have classed Schuessle’s “Wasnington Irving aud His Friends” along with the historical pictures. It has oeen engraved to death, and, even if tt were less cold than tt i should rather belong to a library or public ins tution Luan a galiery like this, Ch, Schioesser sends a capital German interlor— “Toe Musical Festival’? (203)—overlowing with Animation and good humor. The couductor, & quiet old man, stands in the middle of the room, which i# decorated with banners and Wreaths, about to summon the orchestra to order for the rehearsal. The double basses are ranged solidly and solemnly near him, prepared w do their part. Perched on a hizh stool, a little girt assiduously eaws away on her violin, turning ber ear so catch the mstruction given Ler by the old violin player, A boy three leet long is blowing himseli into a tuba iour reet long, tu the immense and exuberantly manttested satisfaction of uta comrades. The other musicians are tuning up or quatting huge mugs of beer irom the conveniens Keg in the corner. A young lady critic, evidently trom A distance, puts up her eyeglass in one cor- Her and scans the orchestra keenly, prepared to pass her verdict; while another—an old burgher, With his wile (Who 18 Knitting placidly), tis dog and his boy— prepares himselt to receive the work ol the home musicians witn enthusiasm. It 18 a German work throughout, in spirit and treatment. ‘Two other German studies Of the happlest sort are Seigert’s “Grandmother's Birthday” (89) and Hor- hemann’s “Birtuday” (163). In the latter a little boy, two years Old, 18 seated by a table covered with sweetmeats, gleefully cracking a whip, while his little sister carefully brings to bim tne cere- monial cake, on which are burning two tapers. His father is smoking in his armchair, with a placid look Of admiration; near by his grand. mother and mother are talking—evidently oi him. In the other the grandmother's two children are about to conduct her to the birthday festival. 1! nosegay into her hand; the little girl takes the otuer hand and teels in her pocket for the birth. day address she is to read. Through the open door may be seen the festal hall, the father con- templating With satisfaciion the decorations that he has just completed, the mother holaing up the baby, Who crows and struggles te seize the lighted birthday cake, There are, of coufse, many scores of pictures in this department which tune, space and patience permitting, might ve described to the interest of at least some of the HERALD’s readers, but those mentioned will give @ fair idea of the several Schools and the More prominent artists, Amon; the many interesting pieces of figare life an genre may be mentioned Zamacois’ ‘Uavalier,’* well known, and anotuer, equaliy good if less generally known, specimen o1 che modern § ish school, @ “Drinking Scene,’ by his pupil, on Ecoss Beranger’s “‘Dressmaker,” M. Guille- min’s *Penitent,” 3%, J. Guy’s racy ‘First Spat,’™ Baugniet’s “Favorites,” KE. W. Perry's “vlock Doctor” and “Jack O'Lantern,” Th. Gerard’s “Happy Home,” Oemichen’s ‘After School,’ T. P. Wood's “Woodsawyer,,’ T. G. Brown’s “Two's Company” and “Italian Musicians,” familiar te New Yorkers; Litchauser's ‘‘Armorer,” Geurge Wymarts ‘Feeding Ducks," &c., &c. WINTERGREEN. An Ancient and Much-Widowed Lady Marries Her Pastor—Excitement ov the Romantic Nuptials at Cold Sprin Harbor, L. £. The warm breath of love touching two widowed hearts at Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island, caused them to glow with Vesvvian fervor. So ardent, in- deed, was the assault of the boy-god Cupid on the susceptible hearts of the ancient couple to which this “short but moving tale” refers, that, despite their respective ages of sixty-five and eighty-five, nothing but the saive of matrimony could cure the gentle hurts o1 love. But to leave the pleasant hyperbole into which the pens of HERALD reporters insensiply glide when speaking of the tender passion, it may briefly be cnronicled that the congregation at the Baptist church at Cold Spring was not more large and attentive than usual, and no ripple of excite. Ment seemed to pervade the sermon of the preacher, although the Rev. Mr. Jaffrey heid a secret‘in his breast all the while which was soom to stir that quiet congregation to the profoundest de pths. Rev. Mr. Vogel, THE LOVE-SMITTEN PASTOR, fat upon the rostrum witn the minister oMciating in his place, and no unwonted trepidation be trayed his secret. Like Joey Bagstock he nad been ‘sly.’ Aiter the service was over the Rev, Nr. Vogel stepped from the pulpit, and, although nis age 1s Sixty-five his step was elastic; somehow the fires of youth seemed again to giow in hig line eyes, but when he sought the trout pew, and bent with courtly grace over the hand ol the rich Widow Jackson, wtat eighty-five, her face seemed to Suffer a sea-change Into something ric! J strange, The congregation paused on tneir exit; there were excited Whisperings, especially among the Nieces and nephews, cousins and country relations of the rich Widow, Whose splendid inansion a& Oyster Bay is justly famous. “What did it meant? “What could be the matter’ “Surely parson Vogei is not-—-—?" “But yes, it looks like itt “and he bas buried three Wives,’ crooned a very old lady in a back seat. nd she has buried turee husbands,’’ whispered seedy old gentie- mau, Who nervously pressed @ hapless silk hat oF the Jashion of 1812 In his trembling hands. , By this time she Rev, Mr. Jailrey was standing before the aucient couple and repeating the veaaliful MARRIAGE SERVICE, which 1s said to jom two willing hearts for life; but it was noticed when he approached the com clusion he came very near stumbling into the fur neral rites, and saying, ‘Dust to dust and ashes to ashes!” Yet this loving twain were made on¢ flesh. It was @ dramatic surprise to everybody. e drove up to the door, the 2 pase tor supported his da ling old bride to the vehicle, got in after her with the spring of # chamois hunter, the footmen banged the door, and the tender pair dashed off to Oyster Bay and the ea- enjoyment of the mollusks abounding in that vie cinify, On Monday morning the bride and groom took the boat D. R. Martin, for New York, tt supposed, en route for Rome, where the Rev. Mr, Vogel has & daaghter married. It may be add that this 18 unquestionay genuine love mat albeit the clergyman is said to be poor aad Venerable Dede Qube We KAKGTEO ¢