from the travel than the bitter experiences which prompted it, we yearn
for the hospitable welcome due to a stranger, a helper arrived in due
season. We are come, O potentate. Open wide the glad gates that shall
receive us. Is not this the Canaan which we but ask to divide with
thee?--a goodly land, and a prosperous, which it were joyful to go in
and possess. But the heathen inhabitant thereof turns his back upon us,
shuts his gates, closes his doors, ascends his throne, takes up his
sceptre, and waving it before our astonished eyes, says: 'This is my own
kingdom. I have created it from a wilderness to suit my own life, not
another. It cannot be shared; nobody, not you, my mother, my wife,
sister, daughter--not even you, most beloved, cherished, worshipped
woman, shall divide it with me. No admittance except on business.'
What to do in such an unexpected emergency!--such behavior, with all
sorts of personal and external power to back it, to say nothing of those
proverbial fractions of law, nine out of ten of which instantly convert
themselves into an adamantine cement, binding his to him, so that indeed
it were a critical piece of practice to essay their sundering, for
_Nature is in the union_, and she is high to be overreached, deep to be
undermined, strong to be defeated, compact and wary to be foiled.
Sit down, then, a beggar at the border of man's realm, craving
permission to enter and share it with him? Essay to conquer an entrance?
And when once within, whether by courtesy or conquest, what then?
Competition with that stronger physique, that ruggeder life, that loves
the wrestle with external hindrances which I love not, and am inferior
for, did I love them? An equal part in that career with one who is
exempt from the offices that absorb the half of my full lifetime, and
require the best powers of every sort that I possess?
Surely, here, with this body and this constitution rivalling that body
and that constitution, I am doomed to an inferiority more slavish and
scarcely less painful than that I have left behind. For identity of
career, identity of powers. Nature does nothing inductively; does not
fit the parts of her scheme to each other experimentally; works at the
centre, in the sublime repose of certainty, and lets facts, experiences,
possibilities at the circumference take care of themselves. She has made
man to dominate this kingdom which he calls his, else should I have had
my share in it from the first. Wherein she has differed me from him, she
has also differed my real kingdom from his. To stop him, I require as
much and no more than man possesses. What is over in kind would place me
in false relations with the objective; what is more in degree would
imperil my subjective peace--what is less would try me by the measure
another is made for, and leave me in the shadow projected by him. Nor
would the standards which prevail here harmonize with my spiritual more
happily than the activities with my corporeal nature. Could I work for
outward success only, or chiefly, subordinating aspiration to what
stifles aspiration? Would riches satisfy me? Would actual power over
men, ecclesiastical, civil, or social? Could I live for ambition, and
sit down unapproved of my better life to enjoy its achievements? Would
the acquisition of knowledge and its employment as a means of worldly
power, distinction, and advantage satisfy the inner hunger which longs
for the truth, the light, the harmony of highest heavens? In short,
would so much of the flesh as I could gratify, so much of the world as I
could conquer, so much devil's service as I could cover up with any
patched robe of decency, drawn tight, stretched to its utmost reach,
satisfy me? Truly not. Not here then is Beulah, and I must journey on.
Again, whither? This time whither my own nature leads. I have learned
this by experience, that leadership for me lies not without, but within
myself. So much is gained, and now once more for movement. Gather up the
effects--all that we have brought with us out of the past: it will find
use. For woman has been woman so far as she has been anything, and the
aromas of that high estate have hung and still hang about her. Bear them
along. The finest effluence of her life in the first century of our era,
as in this last, was love. Mary then bore the Christ; other Mary's loved
him. Woman was first in his life, and last in it. When the bearded magi
adored, she loved; she was the illustrator of his teachings, the
repository of his hopes for their future realization. Bring all those
memories, visions, yearnings, trusts, faiths--dreams of the good, never
yet seen but by the inner sight of the woman-soul,--along, and let us
set out for Beulah. Its blooming fields and fair mountains lie dim but
sweet on the distant horizon. We will go over and possess them--a
kingdom of our own. Why have we waited so long in bondage and darkness?
Why submitted to the heaped-up wrongs of the ages? Patience very
excellent: once admit the idea of a scheme, and some parts must
necessarily arrive in the afternoon. Development presupposes the delay
or withholding of things not yet developed. By the law of climax, these
are not the unimportant parts. Woman's sovereignty has been long
deferred, because of the preparation necessary for it. A John the
Baptist must precede the Christ in the wilderness. Fiends robed and
sceptred, once reigned over fiends clothed in skins and armed with
broadsword and battle axe. To-day a _gentle_man, or _gentle_woman can
sit secure on any throne of Christendom. While we congratulate
ourselves, let us not deny that the Tamerlanes, the Alarics, the
Napoleons have had their share in the intermediate work of preparation.
Not always, as it seems to us, do the swiftest and clearest methods find
favor with these hard-pressed worthies, but rather such methods as they
can employ; and in time, as we see, the work gets done.
Take our planet in the condition in which its first proprietor found it
on his arrival, and you will see that the improvements would be a heavy
item in transactions with a real-estate broker for it. Liberal
governments established--Canton, Paris, London, New York built--grain
fields, mills, patent offices, world's fairs, electric telegraphs, ocean
steamers, iron-clads, Central Park, show a long road travelled, and much
rough, terrible, fearful work done by the way--work which has developed
a condition for the exercise of the fine sovereignty of woman's pure,
gentle, loving, harmonious nature--road which leads by divine intention
to her empire. If the hand which has opened it has been red at times,
let us remember that no purer color could have been preserved in the
Thermopylæ--if the heart has been hard, that a softer one would have
been surely defeated and we disadvantaged. Well could we afford to abide
in the twilight-land when such struggle was going forward in our behalf,
when the sunshine was descending upon such seedtime of the ages--to
whose harvest we are drawing nigh.
The sceptre of Supreme Use on the earth is to the hand that is sovereign
for that use. In its day every other power is subordinate to that, for
it is the nature of sovereignty to be unitary, whether lodged in an idea
or a person. It is because of this that personal sovereignty has been
indispensable to human progress. Nothing could reign over the strong,
undeveloped, turbulent brute life of the early and middle ages but the
tremendous will and self-love of a man great according to his
time--Charlemagne, Peter of Russia, Henry of Navarre.
And shall we complain that a development is slow which began with a
Soudanese, a Papuan, and gives us now a Ruskin and an Emerson--that a
career is tedious which opened, if you please, on Ararat, and has
trailed its waxing splendors up to the Free American States--the
libraries, the art galleries, the penetrating humanities which
characterize the nineteenth century? For one, I cannot. Beulah has stood
adjourned from Eden till now--wisely, needfully adjourned; and woman
will enter its boundaries gratefully and gracefully, as a queen waited
for and desired: grateful for the gift to the One who gave it in the
Great Distribution--graceful in the reception of a right from him whose
ages of struggle have made smooth her road to it.
What will she be therein? What will her life be? I close my eyes to the
Actual around me, and I see her in that high land whose plains spread
above the mountain peaks that surround us here. I see a creature whom
the poets have sung, the artists have painted and chiselled, and the
common heart of mankind has longed for, prayed for, and, in its hours of
high communion, has trusted and believed in with the utter faith of a
child in its mother's love. I see a being whom the pure, divine
Imagination, the eye of God dimmed in man, has foreseen.
I see her not a dream--not an airy form haunting the unreal walks of
night, to vanish when cockcrow recalls us to the cares of household
life, the fields of labor, the paths of effort. No, but an enduring,
very real, very practical embodiment of the poet's ideal, with new
powers and relations illustrating its harmony in and fitness for the
world that is purified and sanctified by its presence. There to my eye
'Her shape arises:
She less guarded than ever, yet more guarded than ever;
The gross and soiled she moves among do not make her gross and soiled;
She knows the thoughts as she passes--nothing is concealed from her;
She is none the less considerate or friendly therefore;
She is the best beloved--it is without exception--she has no reason to
fear, and she does not fear;
Oaths, quarrels, hiccupped songs, proposals, smutty expressions, are idle
to her as she passes;
She is silent--she is possessed of herself--they do not offend her;
She receive them as the laws of nature receives them--she is strong;
She, too, is a law of nature--there is no law stronger than she is.'
I look beneath, the ethereal drapery of qualities in which the prophetic
imagination has clothed her, and central to them all I find a new
phenomenon--the latest of the ages--TRUE WOMANHOOD. From this proceeds
the veiled glory hitherto seen but by poet's eye--not far hence to be
felt and known of all. For it is no longer the vision of a distant and
dim land, separated from this actual present by a fathomless abyss. Out
of the yawning chasm that has divided that from this there rise to-day,
clear, shining, visible to open eyes, the everlasting pillars of truth,
which will shortly bridge it and make broad the road thither, so that
neither he who walks straight with exact step between the pales of
science, nor he outside wending, heedless, with wide-wandering eyes and
feet who stumbles along, shall miss it.
A being planted above man, taking root where he blooms, in the pure
affections, flowering in the high airs which he dreams of but sees not,
or sees only in moments of inspiration from her--a being, who, more
complex on her physical side, is therefore more affluent on her
spiritual--who, from the established premises of science, demands not
new, but the very largest deductions to reach the borders of her life--a
being whose support with the earth-life is widened and strengthened by
each added organ, function, susceptibility--whose divine support is
opened, established, confirmed in increased degrees over man's by each
womanly inlet to the spiritual nature--I see such a being irradiating
the future years and paths of my race, and my soul grows strong and glad
at the sight. In her the self-love of man is replaced by love; ambition
pales its ineffectual fires in the light of that pure, undying flame of
aspiration which her soul feeds; patriotism, ashamed of its narrowness,
unfolds shining pinions over humanity, and becomes philanthropy;
pleasure retreats in her wornout, patched-up harlequin robes; and
happiness, pure, clean, bright from the sweet inner chambers of the
soul, takes her place.
Life acknowledges a higher fealty. With the new sovereign, new aims, new
standards, new methods for the improvement of humanity.
Under the masculine dynasty we have had force, organization,
investigation, discovery, experiment--methods violent, harsh, selfish,
slow, confused, chaotic: a magnanimous career at intervals spanning the
wide weltering strife, as a bow the stormy heavens; noble deeds, not a
few, shining out of the darkness here and there; real victory crowning
the crests of the rolling sea now and then, and casting where they have
shone long shadows over the waters darkened with selfish contention
around them. Power under this reign has been applied to the
multiplication of external resources, means, opportunities for the race.
It has clothed the earth with them in forms so numerous, so varied--so
good, so bad, so indifferent--so noble, so mean--so rich, so poor--so
high, so low, that the most active memory of the longest life fails to
furnish the catalogue of them. It professes human good; it cultivates
personal good, family good, community good, or, at the largest, national
good. But whatever the stature it attains, its methods are through
external appeals to the soul--influences from without. Its common
theology steadily refused for eighteen hundred years to credit the union
of the divine with the human in the soul of mankind. Its deductive
intellect is blind to truth till her presence is proved by facts--as if
we would hale an archangel, with the shining light of the upper world
yet flowing adown him, before the police magistrate, and swear the
butchers and the newsboys on the question of identity. Its Art is
timid, thin, and self-distrusting, because the Ideal is flouted as
worthy only of women, dreamers, and liberal ministers--the silver wing
of imagination is rarely loosed but to be soon folded in humiliation
before the reproof of the exacting senses. Its statesmanship is smart,
crafty, treacherous, because it cherishes a state, a nation, rather than
humanity. Its jurisprudence is a gigantic, vigilant detective, dealing
with a population of suspects. Its physical methods only are uniformly
clear, honorable, straight-forward though. Even these in times and
places might be nobler, more open; but it fights well, labors well,
cultivates well, invents well, manufactures well, because in these it is
dealing chiefly between its native elements, force and matter;--but
being characteristically inductive, it cannot deal liberally with human
nature, lacking the ideal of it, the faith in it, the reverence for it
which are the only sustaining root of such behavior toward it.
Under the new sovereignty, the methods, like the power employing them,
will have their nearest relations with the interior life. They will draw
helps from the outward; and here the glory of man as a creator of
conditions and opportunities, will be first measured and fully
appreciated, for it is the woman only who can penetrate his works, draw
thence their full significance and value, transmute their evils to
goods, and incorporate their best spirit in humanity. It is a great
thing to create that which helps any human soul to be diviner than
without such help it would be. It is greater to develop conditions which
establish and confirm true relations between the soul and its helps. It
is greatest to create the soul to be divine--with helps, or in spite of
hindrances. The first is eminently the office of the masculine. The
second is shared between it and the feminine, with a preponderance to
the latter; and the last belongs so exclusively to woman, that the day
of its doing is necessarily the day of her sovereignty.
The divine, artistic, harmonious creation of the human spirit in the
divine, artistic, harmonious human body, this is the grand function of
the feminine era. For this it is that woman has those special finer
endowments which in all ages have distinguished her from man, and
foreshown a higher life for her in some future--some Beulah, visible to
eyes that could o'ershoot the bounds of the passing age. Wanting this
power, preparing the day of its advent, John Baptist has toiled,
sweated, groaned, fumed, devastated in his wilderness, to touch its
hither border at last in this pregnant nineteenth century. Age of
revolution--age of wonders!--of which the very greatest are, I think,
the beginnings we already see of settlement here. As a question, that of
woman is not an old one. There can be no Woman Question among any people
till it is advanced enough to ask for better methods than man's. When
this stage is reached, life is ripe for the advent of woman--it appeals
to her to come forward. It prepares better conditions, that it may
invite her--opens fields, that it may engage her powers--seeks to clothe
her in a real dignity, of which she has before worn rather the semblance
than itself. Society, obeying the higher view of her, enacts new laws
for her enlargement, modifies or sets aside social canons which
restricted and warped and suppressed her, and begins with these
movements to find itself enriched by the presence of finer influences;
led upward to more exalted standards, penetrated with a subtler humane
sentiment than it before knew.
Yet with all these movements in her favor, woman, bone of man's bone,
remains a bone of contention to him, till nature, read truly and trusted
reverently, is allowed to lead him as a little child by the hand and
show him woman's real kingdom. He must not look on it with a timid or a
grudging eye. A Chinese mandarin in California, becoming acquainted
with the fact that American women could read and write and be trusted
with accounts, replied, with a warning shake of the head, 'If he readee,
writee, by and by he lickee all the men.' Does this apprehension
possibly extend beyond the Celestial Empire? It will not be expressed, I
know, but there is much unexpressed feeling which is none the less real
for its silence.
'Every woman is an embodied revolution, now-a-days,' said a lank,
grumbling dyspeptic, while the autumn leaves of '62 yet hung in bright
profusion on the bordering forests of the Hudson. 'If you had said every
woman is in these days an embodied revelation,' was the superb reply,
'you would have done both truth and my sex more even justice.' Man must
not fear woman, for whatever nature designed for her is not only
inevitable, but is his only means of salvation. He need not fear her,
for she is the daughter of nature, so full of loyalty and filial
devotion to her mother, that no wide or continued departure from her
designs is possible. He will not fear her when he is religious enough to
feel that each natural revolution is a step in the march upward, ordered
in its season as calmly and inexorably as were the secondary rocks laid
down when the primary had been prepared for receiving them, as the
nebulous vapor is consolidated into a planet or sun, or the
morning-glory brought forth of its sown seed. He will be comforted, too,
by remembering that natural revolution does never dethrone. It only
enthrones above the present ruler. Work out your kingdom. Define and
fill its bounds and metes, and never will usurper's foot print its soil.
No invasion of your sovereignty is possible. The magnetisms of the
universe hold you there, and every other being outside--an infallible
police, bent on the protection of your rights, charged to secure them to
you without so much as a flaw in their finest edges. Nature knows your
kingdom, and charges all yet unsettled parties to go aside. But in the
coming cycles she will develop others above it.
The wheel revolves. You can only remain at the summit by its standing
still. It is not your degradation, but another's glory, that is sought.
Open your eyes to the scheme: look adown its vistas of grandeur, and at
every step taken above you, you will sing, Hosanna! We also rise by your
ascent.
LITERARY NOTICES
MYSTERIES OF LIFE, DEATH, AND FUTURITY. By HORACE WELBY. New York: James
S. Gregory.
A very suggestive book, full of manifold and curious research. The
author, in his preface, says: 'It has been undertaken with the view of
concentrating within its focus the views and opinions of some of the
leading writers of the present day, and, by placing them before the
reader in a popular form and setting, adapt them for a larger class than
would be likely to consult the authorities themselves whence the
substance of this volume has been derived. In virtue of the Scriptural
character of the subjects, the rewards will be a special blessing on
those who read and understand them; the interpretations and inferences,
in many instances, being the deductions of men venerated for their piety
and learning in ministering the most precious of all knowledge--the
inestimable comfort of the hope that is in us.'
The work which the author proposed to himself has been well done. A
single glance at the index would be sufficient to assure the reader of
the great variety of subjects embraced in these carefully selected
extracts. Although from so many different sources, a unity of subject
gives them unity of interest. The book contains a valuable array of the
best thoughts, impressions, and beliefs of the most distinguished minds
on the phenomena of life, death, and futurity.
THE FAIRY BOOK. The best Popular Fairy Stories selected and rendered
anew. By the Author of 'John Halifax, Gentleman,' &c. &c. New York:
Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square. 1863.
The name of Miss Mulock is sufficient guarantee that the little ones
will find abundance of entertainment, and no harmful matter in the
pretty 'Fairy Book' published by Harper & Brothers. The tales are well
selected and well told. Bits of quaint humor are interspersed through
the narratives, increasing their interest to both old and young, and
lightening the labor of the 'reader out' by many a pleasant smile.
Mothers cannot fail to find this judicious collection an assistance in
their labors, and an agreeable addition to the library of their young
people.
LETTERS FROM ITALY AND SWITZERLAND. By FELIX MENDELSSOHN-BARTHOLDY.
Translated from the German by LADY WALLACE, with a Biographical Notice
by JULIE DE MARGUERITTES. Published by Frederick Leypoldt, Philadelphia.
1863. For sale by F. W. Christern, 763 Broadway, New York, and A. K.
Loring, 319 Washington Street, Boston.
Again are we indebted to Mr. Leypoldt for a delightful book, a truthful
record of feeling from the hand of a man noted for purity of life,
scholarship, and an enviable reputation in the world of music. The
letters are such as we should expect from the character of Mendelssohn's
compositions--pure, elegant, fanciful, flowing, serious, and dignified,
but without the passionate intensity, the soul-searching pathos and
energy characterizing spirits deeply acquainted with the bitterest
griefs incident to humanity, griefs arising either from without or
within. Rich, handsome, and happily married, he was not exposed to the
many privations and trials generally pertaining to artist life; his
amiable character drew round him many friends, and his wealth enabled
him to bring out his works during his own lifetime, and thus make them
known under the most favorable auspices. He was indeed, as Goethe said
of him, 'born on a lucky day.' The translation is beautifully executed,
and we hope the tasteful little volume may receive a substantial welcome
from our reading public.
LILIAN. Published by Ticknor & Fields, Boston. For sale by D. Appleton &
Co., New York.
This is a novel of considerable ability. The story is exciting and
interesting, the scenes varied, the descriptions vivid, and the
denouement well imagined and sustained. There are no dull pages in the
book. There is much to praise, but something also to regret. There is a
want of calm, of continuity in the style. The sentences are short and
closely cut, falling upon the ear more like the broken rattling of
hailstones than the full flowing music of a strong deep river. Such a
style, introduced at proper intervals and in appropriate positions, is
frequently very effective; but, when long continued, it grows wearisome
and monotonous. As our late writers are much given to it, they should be
on their guard lest it become a _national_ characteristic.
OUT-DOOR PAPERS. By THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. Boston: Ticknor &
Fields. For sale by D. Appleton & Co., New York.
The articles contained in this book are: Saints and their Bodies;
Physical Courage; A Letter to a Dyspeptic; The Murder of the Innocents;
Barbarism and Civilization; Gymnastics; A New Counterblast; The Health
of Our Girls; April Days; My Out-Door Study; Water Lilies; The Life of
Birds; The Procession of the Flowers; Snow.
This work was received by us too late to give it, in our July number,
that meed of attention and praise so justly its due. Fortunately it
requires no words from us to introduce it to notice; some of its
articles, having been already published in the _Atlantic Monthly_, are
already known to and valued by some of the highest minds among us. The
book is written by an ardent admirer but close observer of nature, and
is full of tender traceries, of rainbow-hued fancies, and marked by the
keen insight of a glowing and far-reaching imagination. The chapter on
'Snow' is one of the most exquisite things ever written, pure, chaste,
and delicately cut as the starry crystals it so lovingly commemorates.
Nor is the 'Procession of the Flowers' less admirable. In all their
simple loveliness they rise from earth, and bloom before us as we read.
Writers of such high finish, such delicate perceptions of beauty as T.
W. Higginson, are seldom characterized by great originality--his
expletives and imagery are as original as tender and beautiful. His
illustrations are never morbid, but ever strong and healthful. If he be,
as we have been informed he is, the Colonel Higginson now acting in the
service of his country, Heaven preserve the life of the patriot, poet,
and scholar--for such men are jewels in our national crown of glory!
Mr. Higginson says: 'If, in the simple process of writing, one could
physically impart to his page the fragrance of this spray of azalea
beside me, what a wonder it would seem!--and yet one ought to be able,
by the mere use of language, to supply to every reader the total of that
white, honeyed, trailing sweetness which summer insects haunt and the
Spirit of the Universe loves. The defect is not in language, but in men.
There is no conceivable beauty of blossom so beautiful as words--none so
graceful, none so perfumed. It is possible to dream of combinations of
syllables so delicious that all the dawning and decay of summer cannot
rival their perfection, nor winter's stainless white and azure match
their purity and their charm. To write them, were it possible, would be
to take rank with nature; nor is there any other method, even by music,
for human art to reach so high.'
To this very height of human art has Mr. Higginson, in the article from
which the above is a quotation, himself attained!
IN THE TROPICS. By a Settler in Santo Domingo. With an Introductory
Notice by RICHARD B. KIMBALL, Author of 'St. Leger,' 'Undercurrents,'
&c. Carleton, publisher. 1863.
A 'Settler in Santo Domingo' has given us a good book--a fresh,
wholesome, and evidently truthful narrative of his every-day experience
in the tropics. It is a book eminently _sui generis_, reminding one of
Robinson Crusoe or Dana's 'Two Years before the Mast.' There is a gentle
earnestness, a mild yet positive concentration of purpose about it, that
enlists our sympathies from the start. The young farmer's mind is on his
work. We suspect he has capacities outside of his cornfield and yuca
patch, but to this point in the record before us he gives no clue. He is
a farmer, and nothing else. The bright-winged birds flit and gleam and
twitter in the evergreen woods about him, but his hand is on the plough
and his ear drinks in only the music of his panting team. From his
window, looking eastward, he sees the advance beams of the sun flung
across the savanna: he takes the hint, and hurries out to look after his
young plantains. At night the sea keeps up its everlasting chant by the
side of his _palenca_, and the pure stars watch over his humble roof;
yet, unconscious of both, he sleeps on the calm deep sleep appointed as
the best recompense of honest toil.
The author of 'In the Tropics' is a young man born and reared on a farm
in the interior of the State of New York, who was afterward condemned to
what seemed to him the perpetual servitude of a clerk's life in the
city. Weary and heart-sick he yearns for a better existence. Not little
Nell beseeching her grandfather to leave the dark rooms and melancholy
houses of her abhorrence, and go out into the open country and sleep in
fields and under trees and have the sun and wind upon their faces, has a
more intense loathing of the dull, artificial routine of town life than
he. His escape is easily managed, and his transition to the cheerful
freedom of a widely different career is so speedy and so satisfying that
he is in no mood to dwell upon the monotonous past. We get an estimate
of the bondage from which he has fled by the tone of pleasant surprise
and buoyant gratitude with which he welcomes the commonest gifts of
mother nature. He is as impressible as a schoolboy let loose for the
long vacation.
There is a vein of loving trustfulness pervading his narrative that is
really touching. Our young, vigorous, and hearty settler, glorying in
his privilege to struggle, achieve, and conquer difficulties, is too
proud to be ashamed of his dependence on Him who appointed the planets
to their courses, and is not unmindful of a sparrow's fall. How fine and
delicately tender is this retrospective glance at the close of his
monthly record for April!
'Four months have fled away like a busy though pleasant dream since
I laid myself down to my first night's repose in my homestead. The
Giver of all good gifts has crowned my poor efforts with his tender
mercies, and as I look up from these pages through the arcade of
fruit-bearing trees and onward to the gentle hill-slope now green
with springing corn, and beautiful in the promise of future
abundance, I feel a perfect and grateful trust--far, far too deep
for my weak powers of utterance--that He will never forsake the
humble laborer in this fair field of His creation.'
And he is instructive withal. His book is a perfect _vade mecum_ for
beginners in tropical farming. To such it is literally 'guide,
counsellor, and friend.' Colonists going out to Santo Domingo will do
well to include a copy in their outfit, and, as far as practicable,
follow in the footsteps of their sturdy and genial predecessor.
The reader need not expect to find in this work a sensation story. It is
anything but that. Neither, being exclusively descriptive of the
beneficent arts of peace, can it in any sense come under the head of
what is termed war literature. Yet it is safe to affirm that without the
great rebellion this book had never been written. It is full of novel,
picturesque, and widely suggestive ideas. Some of its statements tear
away old fallacies as by a cannon ball. For instance, where the young
settler states as matter of experience:
'Those who say the treasures of the tropics are to be best won by
the brute force of ignorant labor, cannot have studied with
sufficient patience the march of invention. Intelligent laborers,
men who know how to make wood and iron do their harvest work to the
sparing of human sinews, men who can work steam in harness, these
are what is wanted here. Those, too, are mistaken who fancy that no
skin but a black one can cover the firm muscle and vigorous
endurance of a perfect and hardy manhood. The most manly workers I
have seen in this country are _white men_. They know how to obtain
and use the best class of labor-saving machines, and they trust no
one but themselves to manage them, for they know that superior
implements and the recklessness of brute force don't work well
together. Under the warm sun of the tropics white men and machinery
will yet open the grandest field of civilization.'
This goes to confirm us in the opinion we have long entertained and
advanced in these pages, that the result of the great political change
we are now undergoing will be for the benefit of white men. It has been
so often asserted that only black men can work in the tropics, that
people have come to acquiesce in the statement without investigation.
The record of this work is to the point in helping to dispel so
widespread a delusion.
Whoever, at this delightful season, wishes to enjoy a book written in
pure, gushing English, attuned to the gentle harmonies of nature, and be
refreshed by sympathy with its kind and grateful spirit, will not fail
to read 'In the Tropics.'
HARPER'S PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE GREAT REBELLION IN THE UNITED STATES.
This work is issued in semi-monthly numbers, at twenty-five cents per
number, appearing about the first and fifteenth of each month. The
introduction contains a succinct account of the formation of the
Confederacy of the States; the formation and adoption of the
Constitution of the United States, and the establishment of the National
Government; the origin, development, and progress of the doctrines of
nullification and secession, and the various phases which they assumed
until their final culmination in the Great Rebellion.
The illustrations comprise portraits of those who have borne a prominent
part in the struggle; maps of the different localities; plans of the
leading actions; views of scenes of interest and of the most important
battles.
The work is profusely and graphically illustrated, and we think this
serial cannot fail to become popular. We learn much and readily through
the eye, and the importance of faithfully executed pictures can scarcely
be overestimated. The portraits given in the work are _portraits_, and
not _caricatures_. It contains a careful, comprehensive, and minute
record of the progress of the war, and is written with ability and
spirit. It promises to be impartial, accurate, and artistic.
THE NORTH PACIFIC REVIEW. A Journal of Literature, History, Science,
Correspondence, and Fine Arts. San Francisco: Dalgleish & Co.,
publishers and proprietors.
The Continental extends a warm greeting to her sister of the West,
feeling not only the strong bonds of the literary amenities, but the far
stronger ties of patriotism and loyalty, so ably defined in the opening
article of the _North Pacific_. Loyalty is indeed something more than
fidelity to one's country and Government, based upon a sense of interest
or of obligation: it is _fidelity based upon love_.
Young and glorious West! May such loyalty ever distinguish you, and such
feelings link in close and ever closer union the children of the
Atlantic and Pacific shores! On the maintenance of such love hangs the
whole future of humanity!
SANDERS' UNION FOURTH READER; embracing a full Exposition of the
Principles of Rhetorical Reading, with numerous exercises for practice,
both in prose and poetry, various in style, and carefully adapted to the
purposes of teaching in schools of every grade. By CHARLES W. SANDERS,
A.M. New York: Ivison, Phinney & Co.
A valuable aid to scholar and teacher. The selections have been made
with great care, and give evidence of refined taste, and, while
perfectly adapted for practice in rhetorical reading, are admirably
calculated to quicken the moral perceptions and awaken the finer
sensibilities of the scholar.
RECEIVED.
A HISTORY OF THE INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT OF EUROPE. By JOHN WILLIAM
DRAPER, M.D., LL.D., Prof. of Chemistry and Physiology in the University
of New York, author of a 'Treatise on Human Physiology,' &c., &c. Harper
and Brother, publishers, Franklin Square, New York.
A book apparently of great erudition and research. Being received too
late for reading, and reviewing in the July number of THE CONTINENTAL,
it is our intention to return to it in our August issue.
EDITOR'S TABLE.
MATTER AND SPIRIT.
We do not ordinarily feel disposed to criticize the articles of our
contributors; nor do we feel disposed now to do more than to offer a
brief suggestion in reference to a philosophical position assumed by the
author of an interesting article in our last number, entitled, 'TOUCHING
THE SOUL.' The writer assumes that matter and spirit are so utterly
opposite in their respective natures that they cannot be made to act
together in any way. For instance, he says: 'Here again the argument is
clinched by the mere distinction between matter and spirit, the one
being the very antipodes of, and incapable of acting upon the other.'
And again: 'To sum up the whole argument in a single sentence, the
physical senses are dependent for their perceptions upon the action of
matter, and hence spirit, which is not matter, can in no way affect
them.'
Unquestionably this statement is contradictory in itself, and, at all
events, cannot possibly be sustained to the extent of the assertion. The
actual existence of the soul in the body, and the perception of physical
objects and effects by the senses, are proofs undeniable that in this
instance, at least, there are mutual action and reaction between matter
and spirit. If it be said that this connection of the soul with the
organized frame is the only condition in which the material and
immaterial are known to be capable of acting upon each other, it is yet
wholly inaccurate and unphilosophical to say that this mutual action is
impossible.
But, in truth, the assertion is unphilosophical and incorrect in a far
wider sense, and in reference to a much more extensive range of
phenomena than those which concern the mysterious relations of the soul
with the human body. Throughout all nature are to be seen the plainest
indications of the influence and operation of spirit on the material
world. It is spirit only which animates, informs, and shapes the whole
universe. Wherever law prevails (and where does it not?) there is
intelligence, spirit, soul, acting to sustain it, during every moment of
its operation. Indeed it is doubtful whether any other than spiritual
power is to be found anywhere in nature. It seems to be too obvious a
truth to admit of any doubt or question, that matter, if it be of a
nature opposite to that of spirit, has been created as the instrument of
soul, having properties suited to the harmonious coöperation of the two,
in their respective purposes in nature. To represent matter as something
wholly antagonistic to spirit and incapable of any relations with it, is
to ignore all our own experience, and the significance of all the grand
phenomena of nature.
However great may be the distinction between matter and spirit, the
Creator has evidently established the closest relationship between them.
All that we can ever know of matter arises from its power to affect the
soul,--through the senses while we remain in the body, whatever may be
its relations to the spirit in another state of existence. If we take,
for instance, the inertia of matter, and consider it philosophically, we
can make of it nothing more than a power of resistance, or persistence,
residing in certain points, which we call particles of matter. The same
is true of attraction and repulsion. These are forces residing in the
same points; and these forces are all we know, or can know, about them.
So of the sensible qualities of matter; color, for instance. This is
merely the power of the same points, to cause vibrations in an elastic
medium; and these, acting on the sensorium, communicate sensations, and
become the basis of ideas in the soul. Who can say this subtile power,
residing in the points which we call particles of matter, is not
spiritual in its nature? Or, indeed, who can affirm, with absolute
certainty, that there is anything else known to us in the universe,
except that which is kindred to the soul by its power to communicate
with and inform it. From the very dawn of our existence we have been
encased in what we call matter, and have derived all our education from
it. It is the only medium by which we communicate with each other; nor
have we any other means of climbing up to a knowledge of GOD himself. We
do not mean to say that the spirit of man has no faculties for a direct
perception of divine influences; but simply that the material world is
the appointed instrument for educating the human soul, through the
senses, to the consciousness and intelligent use of its highest and
noblest faculties.
By human means, and, also, by all the tremendous operations of nature,
so far as they are known to man, matter is wholly indestructible. No
instance is known, from the beginning of creation, in which a single
particle of matter has been annihilated. Can anything more be said of
the soul? Or should we not rather feel relieved, and freed from much
doubt, if we had an equal assurance of the continued existence of the
soul after the great change which separates it from the body? May we
not, at least, without any humiliation, admit our kindred to the dust in
which we dwell, and recognize in it a creation, coeval with the soul and
intended for its use, with points of contact and mutual coöperation,
which render matter and spirit not wholly at war with each other, but
united in a common destiny, to be continued at least as long as the
duration of the human race on the surface of the earth?
As to the singular phenomena to which our author intends to apply his
argument, we can only say that they cannot be disproved in the mode
attempted. We have no such knowledge of the facts as would enable us to
form any opinion on the subject. But if many good men have not been
egregiously deceived, the phenomena in question indicate the speedy
discovery of relations not hitherto suspected to exist between matter
and spirit. We do not anticipate the development of any other than
natural laws. We are not credulous as to the interference of
supernatural agencies; but we are fully prepared for almost any
discoveries in the department of psychology, unveiling the
mysterious but unquestionable relations of harmony--of action and
reaction--existing between the soul of man and the universe of GOD.
ON HORSEBACK.
Those who have scanned with critical eye the cavalry regiments that have
lately trooped through our cities from various States of the Union, on
their way to the banks of the Potomac, must in candor, if with
reluctance, acknowledge that we are not just yet a nation of horsemen.
That our troopers have got a knack of 'sticking on' we will admit; but
there are ways of fulfilling that necessary condition with more ease to
the horse, more grace in the action, and more certainty of being able to
use the weapons with precision, than the present very unartistic method
common to horsemen generally in most parts of the country. Within a
quarter of a century much improvement has taken place in the system of
equestrianism under which the cavalry riders of Europe are instructed.
Years ago, the long stirrups, such as our dragoons for the most part
ride with, were taken up some inches by the riding masters of the
British and other foreign services. It was the superior horsemanship of
riders brought up in that best of all riding schools, the fox-hunting
field, that first drew the attention of cavalry teachers to the
necessity of affording a firmer _appui_ to the horseman than he can
obtain from stirrups, to keep his feet in contact with which he is
obliged to point his toes downward with painful perseverance. All the
good 'hunting horsemen,' as they are termed, of England and Ireland,
ride with short stirrups. So do the Cossack cavalry, the best troop
horsemen, perhaps, in the world. The Arab rides with very short
stirrups, which makes him look, when mounted, as if he were sitting on a
low chair. But the seat thus obtained by the Arab is not one for men who
have to gallop across a country intersected with fences and other
obstacles. In stirrups, as in most other things, there is a _juste
milieu_; and if the American dragoon is on one side of that, so is the
Arab of the Desert on the other. The late Capt. Nolan, who fell in the
famous charge of the Six Hundred at Balaklava, did much to introduce a
perfect system of horsemanship into cavalry regiments. He published a
work upon the subject, in which he advocates the short stirrup, and
bases his system, generally, upon the hunting style of horsemanship. We
have seen some very bad riders among British cavalry officers, brought
up in the old-school method of seat and band. Indeed, some satirical
writer or another has said there are two professional classes to whom it
is impossible to impart the art of horsemanship--sailors and cavalry
officers: but that was going a trifle too far, as we have seen specimens
of both the one and the other capable of acquitting themselves very well
'across country,' which is the test, _par excellence_, of good riding.
That was in later days, however, and since the reforms of the riding
master.
* * * * *
In spite of some repulsive features, we insert the accompanying picture.
The subject chosen is not of that character which the highest genius
loves to depict; yet it is vigorously drawn, and doubtless true to
nature. At the present time it may be useful as a fair representation of
many specimens of the boasted Southern cavalier.--F. P. S.
THE SOUTHERN COLONEL.
Strolling, one morning in 1847, into a Virginia barroom, I accosted a
little, puffy-looking man with "Major, can you"--whereupon, drawing up
like a bantam, he snapped out, "You're mistaken; I am a colonel;" the
colonel being in those days as peculiar to Southern society as the cross
to southern constellations. I proceeded to anatomize this representative
specimen.
Where he obtained his title no one knew. Some thought it hereditary, his
grandfather having been a colonel in the Revolution; others supposed it
to have been won by conducting the Mexican campaign in the columns of
the _Warrior_, after the manner of modern editors; and a few ignorant
souls believed he had been born with it in his mouth, instead of a
silver spoon. As to the man himself, his great-great-grandmother was a
Huguenot; his grandissimo-grandfather came over with Lafayette, and when
he made affirmation on "my stars and garters," he was supposed to have
reference to certain insignia of nobility, heirlooms in the family from
the time of Charlemagne. He had not stature enough for tallness, nor
bulk enough for breadth, in his figure resembled the wooden soldiers in
the panorama of Bunker Hill, who ran down hill at every fire without
moving their legs, and, like a kangaroo, had small feet and head in
proportion. He made his front hair into a curl, hanging over his nose,
like an index finger, and signed his initials with astonishing flourish,
G. B. A., usually rendered by the boys "Great Big Ayres." He spent the
winter dormant, like a polar bear, and, in summer, like chaste Diana,
followed the hunt, took his morals from Tom Paine, and was, as he said
of himself, neither a good Christian nor a bad infidel. He entered
Government service in his youth, got drunk, and had been in that
condition ever since, varied by occasionally getting gloriously drunk.
The only difference between him and a sot was drinking his liquors
genteelly from his own cellar, and lying in bed when a sot lies in the
gutter. When he was beastliest, he made frequent allusions to the
cooling board, referring to a revel, in which, having covered himself
with glory, he awoke from a dead drunk to find himself arrayed in his
shroud, since which he has been in the habit of designating himself a
resurrectionist. He sported an immense diamond, represented to be one of
the honors awarded him by Government, and loaded himself with rings,
chains, and charms, which gave him resemblance to the show figure in a
jeweller's window. He had a passion for the drama, was forever posting
to the city to inspect debutantes and prima donnas, was a connoisseur of
women, and considered a young girl, who knew "the times that try men's
souls" to be a quotation from Tom Paine, the most astonishing specimen
that had ever come under his observation. He was the victim of scandal,
and usually finished his anathemas on the village gossips by wishing
that they were in "Father Abraham's bosom or some other old
gentleman's." He attended all the fashionable soirees, and might
generally be heard informing his friends that the next piece on the
programme "is brandy smash and cocktails." He had a habit of mistaking
his quotations, and had been known to declare, in his fits of drunken
aberration, that he could say with John Quincy Adams, "I still live." At
last accounts he had joined a rebel company, which mustered twelve guns
and an officer for every private. A. JACK STONE.
* * * * *
The
Continental Monthly.
The readers of the CONTINENTAL are aware of the important
position it has assumed, of the influence which it exerts, and of the
brilliant array of political and literary talent of the highest order
which supports it. No publication of the kind has, in this country, so
successfully combined the energy and freedom of the daily newspaper with
the higher literary tone of the first-class monthly; and it is very
certain that no magazine has given wider range to its contributors, or
preserved itself so completely from the narrow influences of party or of
faction. In times like the present, such a journal is either a power in
the land or it is nothing. That the CONTINENTAL is not the
latter is abundantly evidenced _by what it has done_--by the reflection
of its counsels in many important public events, and in the character
and power of those who are its staunchest supporters.
Though but little more than a year has elapsed since the
CONTINENTAL was first established, it has during that time
acquired a strength and a political significance elevating it to a
position far above that previously occupied by any publication of the
kind in America. In proof of which assertion we call attention to the
following facts:
1. Of its POLITICAL articles republished in pamphlet form, a
single one has had, thus far, a circulation of _one hundred and six
thousand_ copies.
2. From its LITERARY department, a single serial novel, "Among
the Pines," has, within a very few months, sold nearly _thirty-five
thousand_ copies. Two other series of its literary articles have also
been republished in book form, while the first portion of a third is
already in press.
No more conclusive facts need be alleged to prove the excellence of the
contributions to the CONTINENTAL, or their _extraordinary
popularity;_ and its conductors are determined that it shall not fall
behind. Preserving all "the boldness, vigor, and ability" which a
thousand journals have attributed to it, it will greatly enlarge its
circle of action, and discuss, fearlessly and frankly, every principle
involved in the great questions of the day. The first minds of the
country, embracing the men most familiar with its diplomacy and most
distinguished for ability, are among its contributors; and it is no mere
"flattering promise of a prospectus" to say that this "magazine for the
times" will employ the first intellect in America, under auspices which
no publication ever enjoyed before in this country.
While the CONTINENTAL will express decided opinions on the
great questions of the day, it will not be a mere political journal:
much the larger portion of its columns will be enlivened, as heretofore,
by tales, poetry, and humor. In a word, the CONTINENTAL will be
found, under its new staff of Editors, occupying a position and
presenting attractions never before found in a magazine.
TERMS TO CLUBS.
Two copies for one year, Five dollars.
Three copies for one year, Six dollars.
Six copies for one year, Eleven dollars.
Eleven copies for one year, Twenty dollars.
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PAID IN ADVANCE
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SUBSCRIBER.
SINGLE COPIES.
Three dollars a year, IN ADVANCE. _Postage paid by the
Publisher_.
JOHN F. TROW, 50 Greene St., N. Y.,
PUBLISHER FOR THE PROPRIETORS.
[Illustration: pointing finger] As an Inducement to new subscribers, the
Publisher offers the following liberal premiums:
[Illustration: pointing finger] Any person remitting $3, in advance,
will receive the magazine from July, 1862, to January, 1864, thus
securing the whole of Mr. KIMBALL'S and Mr. KIRKE'S new serials, which
are alone worth the price of subscription. Or, if preferred, a
subscriber can take the magazine for 1863 and a copy of "Among the
Pines," or of "Undercurrents of Wall Street," by R. B. KIMBALL, bound in
cloth, or of "Sunshine in Thought," by CHARLES GODFREY LELAND (retail
price, $1. 25.) The book to be sent postage paid.
[Illustration: pointing finger] Any person remitting $4.50, will receive
the magazine from its commencement, January, 1862, to January, 1864,
thus securing Mr. KIMBALL'S "Was He Successful?" and Mr. KIRKE'S "Among
the Pines," and "Merchant's Story," and nearly 3,000 octavo pages of the
best literature in the world. Premium subscribers to pay their own
postage.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE FINEST FARMING LANDS WHEAT CORN COTTON FRUITS &
VEGETABLES]
~EQUAL TO ANY IN THE WORLD!!!~
MAY BE PROCURED
~At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE,~
Near Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of
Civilization.
1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80, 120, 160 Acres and upwards, in
ILLINOIS, the Garden State of America.
* * * * *
The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the
beautiful and fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their
Railroad. 700 MILES IN LENGTH, upon the most Favorable Terms for
enabling Farmers, Manufacturers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for
themselves and their families a competency, and a HOME they can call
THEIR OWN, as will appear from the following statements:
ILLINOIS.
Is about equal in extent to England, with a population of 1,722,666, and
a soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of the
Mississippi offers so great an inducement to the settler as the State of
Illinois. There is no part of the world where all the conditions of
climate and soil so admirably combine to produce those two great
staples, CORN and WHEAT.
CLIMATE.
Nowhere can the Industrious farmer secure such immediate results from
his labor as on these deep, rich, loamy soils, cultivated with so much
ease. The climate from the extreme southern part of the State to the
Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis Railroad, a distance of nearly 200
miles, is well adapted to Winter.
WHEAT, CORN, COTTON, TOBACCO.
Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, and every variety of fruit and vegetables is
grown in great abundance, from which Chicago and other Northern markets
are furnished from four to six weeks earlier than their immediate
vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton & St. Louis Railway and the
Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, (a distance of 115 miles on the Branch,
and 136 miles on the Main Trunk,) lies the great Corn and Stock raising
portion of the State.
THE ORDINARY YIELD
of Corn is from 60 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep
and Hogs are raised here at a small cost, and yield large profits. It is
believed that no section of country presents greater inducements for
Dairy Farming than the Prairies of Illinois, a branch of farming to
which but little attention has been paid, and which must yield sure
profitable results. Between the Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, and
Chicago and Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147
miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Spring Wheat, Corn, &c., are
produced in great abundance.
AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS.
The Agricultural products of Illinois are greater than those of any
other State. The Wheat crop of 1861 was estimated at 35,000,000 bushels,
while the Corn crop yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the
crop of Oats, Barley, Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes,
Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clover, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco,
Sorgheim, Grapes, Peaches, Apples, &c., which go to swell the vast
aggregate of production in this fertile region. Over Four Million tons
of produce were sent out the State of Illinois during the past year.
STOCK RAISING.
In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advantages are presented for
the extension of Stock raising. All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules,
Sheep, Hogs, &c., of the best breeds, yield handsome profits; large
fortunes have already been made, and the field is open for others to
enter with the fairest prospects of like results. Dairy Farming also
presents its inducements to many.
CULTIVATION OF COTTON.
The experiments in Cotton culture are of very great promise. Commencing
in latitude 39 deg. 30 min. (see Mattoon on the Branch, and Assumption
on the Main Line), the Company owns thousands of acres well adapted to
the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family of young
children, can turn their youthful labor to a most profitable account in
the growth and perfection of this plant.
THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD
Traverses the whole length of the State, from the banks of the
Mississippi and Lake Michigan to the Ohio. As its name imports, the
Railroad runs through the centre of the State, and on either side of the
road along its whole length lie the lands offered for sale.
CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS, DEPOTS.
There are Ninety-eight Depots on the Company's Railway, giving about one
every seven miles. Cities, Towns and Villages are situated at convenient
distances throughout the whole route, where every desirable commodity
may be found as readily as in the oldest cities of the Union, and where
buyers are to be met for all kinds of farm produce.
EDUCATION.
Mechanics and working-men will find the free school system encouraged by
the State, and endowed with a large revenue for the support of the
schools. Children can live in sight of the school, the college, the
church, and grow up with the prosperity of the leading State in the
Great Western Empire.
* * * * *
PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT--ON LONG CREDIT.
80 acres at $10 per acre, with interest at 6 per ct. annually
on the following terms:
Cash payment $48 00
Payment in one year 48 00
" in two years 48 00
" in three years 48 00
" in four years 236 00
" in five years 224 00
" in six years 212 00
40 acres, at $10 00 per acre:
Cash payment $24 00
Payment in one year 24 00
" in two years 24 00
" in three years 24 00
" in four years 118 00
" in five years 112 00
" in six years 106 00
* * * * *
Number 20. 25 Cents.
THE
CONTINENTAL
MONTHLY.
DEVOTED TO
Literature and National Policy.
AUGUST, 1863.
NEW YORK:
JOHN F. TROW 50 GREENE STREET
(FOR THE PROPRIETORS).
HENRY DEXTER AND SINCLAIR TOUSEY.
WASHINGTON, D.-C.: FRANCK TAYLOR.
CONTENTS.--No. XX.
Our Future. By Lieut. Egbert Phelps, U.S.A., 121
Autumn Leaves. By Mrs. M. W. Cook, 136
Across Maine in Mid-Winter, 138
Diary of Frances Krasinska, 150
The Sleeping Peri, 159
My Lost Darling, 160
Reason, Rhyme, and Rhythm. Compiled and written by Mrs. M. W. Cook, 168
The Buccaneers of America. By W. L. Stone, 175
Under the Palmetto. By H. G. Spaulding, 188
The Spirit's Reproach. By Mrs. M. W. Cook, 204
Jefferson Davis and Repudiation. A Letter from Hon. Robert J. Walker, 207
Evergreen Beauty. By Major Samuel H. Hurst, 227
Dying in the Hospital. By Mary E. Nealy, Louisville, Ky., 229
Literary Notices, 231
Editor's Table, 237
CHARLES GODFREY LELAND and EDMUND KIRKE have withdrawn from the
editorial management of this Magazine.
All communications, whether concerning MSS. or on business, should be
addressed to
JOHN F. TROW, Publisher, 50 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK.
ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by JOHN F.
TROW, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
for the Southern District of New York.
JOHN F. TROW, PRINTER.