AN INQUISITIVE YANKEE.-A gentleman riding in an Eastern railroa | car, which was rather scarcely supplied with passengers, observed, in a seat before him, a lean, slabsided Yankee; every feature of his face seemed to ask a question, and a little circumstance soon proved that he possessed a more "enquiring mind." Before him, occupying the entire seat sat a lady dressed in deep black, and after shifting his position several times, and manœuvering to get an opportunity to look into her face, he at length caught her eye "In affliction ?" "Yes, sir," responded the lady. "Parent?-father or mother?" "No, sir." "Child perhaps?-boy or girl?" "No, sir, not a child--I have no children." "Husband, then I expect? "Yes," was the curt answer. "Hum!-cholera ?--a tradin' man may be!" "My husband was a sea-faring man-the captain of a vessel; he didn't die of cholera, he was drowned." "Oh, drowned, eh ?" pursued the inquisitor hesitating for a brief instant. "Save his chist?" "Don't you think you have a great cause to be thankful that he was a pious man and saved his chist ?" "I do," said the widow, abruptly, and turning her head to look out of the window. The indefatigable 'pump' changed his position, held the widow by his glittering eye once more, and pronounced one more query, in a little lower tone, with his head slightly inclined forward, over the back of the scat, "Was you calculating to get married again ?" "Sir," said the widow, indignantly, "you are imi pertinent!" And she left her seat and took another, on the other side of the car. "Pears to be a little huffy!" said the ineffable bore, turning to our narrator behind him. "What did they make you pay for that umbrel you've got in your hand?" My dear Miss Letitia! why do you wear tight boots and high heels? Your fascinating foot will be spoiled. The pressure will make the toes swell. You will have most agonizing pains from corns, and swellings from bunions. The beauty of your feet will be lost, the springing gracefulness of your tread will be gone; the legs will be stiff and painful, and you cannot dance the fascinating schottische; you will have to shuffle and amble like a spavined nag, and perhaps your ankles may give out, and you be lame for life. You can cultivate and improve your natural possessions and gifts of body and mind, but you cannot alter or change them for the better. Your foot is just the right size. Take care of it, wash it, rub it, keep it clean and warm, and cultivate every toe and joint, and make it an elegant and reliable carriage for the body. If you put it into bonds and imprisonment, expect an ugly and troublesomo enemy. A compressed foot is one of the most awful of botherations. Pray you avoid it! O madam! I tell you it is thoroughly outrageous! I was speaking to yon, Lady Veronica Perfect! Well, sir, pray what is "thoroughly outrageous ?" Your dress, my lady. And pray, sir, what is my dress to you? An abomination, madam. And your Scalpel, to me, is an impertinent bore. I shall dress as I please, sir. I wish you would, madam. At present you dress to please that vulgar mob of fools called "The Fashion." You who have such good taste and cultivated understanding, to put yourself in the shape of a parachute, and be hooped up like a hogshead of sugar, with tackling enough about you for a packet ship! You ought to be ashamed of it! With a shell on your head and a dry goods store about your heels. Are not you a foolish woman to make yourself a slave to the dry goods seller and dressmaker? You'll fill the Crystal Palace alone, soon! Why, you'd posi tively have to undress in the entry, if you came to see us, for you couldn't get into the doorway of an ordinary parlor as you are. What will become of you at the equinox ?-Scalpel. PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF JOHN HANCOCK.One who saw John Hancock in June, 1782, relates that he had the appearance of advanced age. He had been repeatedly and severely afflicted with gout, probably owing in part to his custom of drinking punch-a common practice in high circles in those days. As recollected at this time, Hancock was nearly six feet in height, and of thin person, stooping a little, and apparently enfeebled by disease. His manners were very gracious, of the old stylea dignified complaisance. His face had been very handsome. Dress was adapted quite as much to the ornamental as useful. Gentlemen wore wigs when abroad, and commonly caps when at home; at this time, about noon, Hancock was dressed in a red velvet cap, within which was one of fine linen. The latter was turned up over the lower edge of the velvet one, two or three inches. He wore a blue damask gown, lined with silk, a white embroidered waistcoat, black satin small clothes, with silk stockings and red morocco slippers. It was a general practice in genteel families, to have a tankard of punch made in the morning, and placed in a cooler when the weather required it.At this visit, Hancock took from the cooler, standing on the hearth, a full tankard, and drank first himself, and then offered it to those present. His equipage was splendid, and such as is not customary at this day. His apparel was sumptuously embroidered with gold, silver, lace and other decorations fashionable among men of fortune at that period; and he rode, especially on public occasions, with six beautiful bay horses, attended by servants in livery. He wore a scarlet coat, with ruffles on the sleeves, which soon became the prevailing fashion. There are some things necessary to constitute a well ordered household, whether it cost a few hundred or many thousands a year. Among these is first the aristocratic habit of having fresh water and plenty of it. Next, there is the liberal use of the said water applied to washing the body regularly and entirely every day; washing the hands clean when work is over or meals are ready; cleansing the teeth, so as to forestall or retard decay and keep the breath pure. Now in regard to water, the provisions of the great majority of little country.households, are simply vile and shameful. A basin and ewer which would not accommodate a monkey are set before a man. Then such things as proper conveniencies for bathing seem desperately scarce.The people in a word, don't wash themselves. They are not clean. Where one washes himself from top to toe each day, there are hundreds who do not. "The greasy mob" is thus a term too true. And why should it be so? Why cannot the man of small means be as careful of his person as the dandy, as the courtier, as the aristocrat?— Wash and be clean. Look well at the type of baplism, and find it an ever living declaration against the filth of masses, and the diseases, moral and physical, such filth begets. If we had to give advice to a parent, the first thing we would say would be: Bathe daily, and make your children do the same; be spotlessly clean. But the standard of cleanliness is now awfully low.-N. Y. Tribune. PEOPLE WHO LIVE WITHOUT WATER.-"The day before we reached the Orange river," says Anderson, in his Four Years' Wanderings in South Africa, "we fell in with a krall of Hottentots, whom to our surprise, we found living in a locality altogether destitute of water! The milk of their cows and goats supplied its place. Their cattle, moreover, never obtained water, but found a substitute in a kind of ice plant (mesembryanthemum) of an exceedingly succulent nature, which abounds in those regions. But our own oxen, not accustomed to such diet, would rarely or never touch it. Until I had actually convinced myself-as I had often the opportunity of doing it at an after period-that men and beasts could live entirely without water, I should, perhaps, have had some difficulty in realizing this singular fact." Lord Byron, as is well known, was much galled by some severe strictures made by Southey on his character and writings, and announced his intention of demanding "the satisfaction due to a gentleman." For some reason the challenge was never sent, but in anticipation of it, the Laureate prepared the following reply, which was found among his papers: "Sir: I have the honor of acknowledging the receipt of your letter, and do myself the pleasure of replying to it without delay. "In affairs of this kind, the partners ought to meet upon equal terms. But to establish the equality between you and me, there are three things which ought to be done; and then a fourth also becomes necessary, before I can meet you on the field. "First You must marry and have four children; please be particular in having them girls.i "Secondly You must prove that the greater part of the provision which you make for them depends upon your life, and you must be under a bond of four thousand pounds not to be hanged, not to commit suicide, aud not to be killed in a duel which are the conditions upon which I have effected an insurance of my own life for the benefit of my wife and daughters. "Thirdly-I must tell three direct falsehoods concerning you, upon the hustings or some other not less public assembly; and I shall neither be able to do this, nor to meet you afterward in the manner you propose, unless you can perform the fourth thing-which is "You must convert me from the Christian religion. "Till all this be accomplished, our dispute must be carried on without the use of any more iron than is necessary for blacking our ink or mending our pens; or any more lead than enters into the composition of the Edinburgh Review. I have the honor to subscribe myself, sir, yours, with all proper consideration, "ROBERT SOUTHEY." A DELICIOUS TEMPERANCE TEST.-Who would not live in almost any place where the young ladies are addicted to the delicious custom which is set forth by an exchange as follows: "Quaker young ladies in the Maine Law States,it is said, still continue to kiss the lips of the young temperance men, to see if they have been tampering with liquor. Just imagine a beautiful young girl approaching you, young temperance man, with all the dignity of an executive officer, and the innocence of a dove, with the charge-Mr. Ike P,,the ladies, believe you are in the habit of tampering with liquor, and they have appointed me to examine you according to our established rules-are you willing you must acquiesce. She steps gently up to you, lays her soft white arms around your neck, dashes back her raven curls, raises her sylph-like form upon her tip-toe, and with her angelic features lit up with a smile as sweet as Heaven, places her rich, rosy, pouty, sweet, sugar, molasses, strawberry, honeysuckle, sunflower, rosebud, nectar lips against yours, and busses you, by cracky! Hurrah! for the gals and the Maine Law,and death to all opposition!" of the Arctic A CURIOUS FACT.-OP from her late sounding.pedition, the substance brought up by Brook's sounding rod were submitted to microscopic examination by Professor Bailey, at West Point. Among the debris of crustaceæ, infusoria and other animalcules, which composed the bed of the "telegraphic plateau," the Professor discovered what he supposed to be a species of volcanic cinder, which pervaded the said substance for a distance of fully one thousand miles of the bottom of the ocean, and which fact be instantly acquainted Lieut. Maury with. The chart was carefully examined, and while Mr. M. was trying in vain to ascertain from what volcano this matter could be brought and deposited in the locality assigned to it, a lucky thought occurred to him, that as this deposit was confined to the track of the steamers running between this country and Europe, it might be caused by the ashes and cinders thrown overboard from them. A sample of 'genuine coal ashes from the ash pans of the "Europa" and "Asia," was accordingly sent to the Professor, who, after a rigid examination, pronounced the latter identical with his volcanic cinders. 224 Various Items. "Have you any thick little boy's outside overcoats?" said Mrs. Partington, as she entered the "Rotundity" at Oak Hall, as she called it. The young man in attendance smilingly asked her how She looked at him a mothick the little boy was. ment, and seeing that he didn't know any better, she explained that it was a thick coat she wanted for Ike. "Would you like a Raglan ?" said he, taking up a coat thus denominated. "Raglan!" replied she, with a tone of astonishment, "no, I want a new one; this is rag enough without any more," pointing to the garment worn by the boy, that showed sundry fringes that were no ornaments. He explained that it was the name of a new garment of the description that she wanted, and uttering a very extended "O!" she proceeded to negotiate. Ike was delighted with the spacious pockets, and when he got home the old lady took out of them four apples, a pint of peanuts, a pocket comb, a "House that Jack built" handkerchief, a top string, six buttons, a dozen matches, four pieces of slate pencil, a bit of beeswax, and two cents. Notwithstanding the best portion of the Southern States is composed of citizens from North Carolina, the witlings of those States will continue to crack their jokes over her supposed deficiencies. Even away over at the jumping off place, they are trying their wits at this sport, as will be seen by the following from the California Farmer: "In North Carolina it is frequent among her forests of fat-pine, for a lover in distress to send the fair object of his affections a bit of its staple vegetable productions, with an eye painted upon it. This signifies 'I pine.' If favorable to him, the young lady selects from the wood pile the best and smoothest specimen of a knot, this signifies 'pine not. But if, on the other hand, she detests him, (there is no middle ground between detestation and adoration with you women) she burns one end of the message, and this generally throws the young man into despair, for it means 'I make light of your pining.' It The Springfield Republican relates the following striking scene at a gaming table :-As a company of our fast young men were busy over the card table,a few evenings since, a singular noise attracted their attention. It was of so unusual nature that they immediately began to look about for its cause. was repeated in another direction. Something more than curiosity was now excited, and playing was suspending. Immediately one of the company fell into what the spiritualists call a trance, and proceeded to utter, as it from his deceased father, a homily against gambling and its associate vices. This was followed by an admonition purporting to come from a deceased sister of one of the company, couched in such terms and uttered with such sisterly feeling that the whole group were irresistibly moved to tears. There was no more card playing that night. None of those present were believers in spiritual manifestations, and the scene was wholly unexpected to all. Whether it was indeed spiritual, or is capable of some other solution, is a question. A witty druggist, on a cold night last winter, was woke up by a terrible rapping at his door. Going down he found a poor fellow who wanted to purchase a dose of salts. The shop was entered, the dose prepared, and half dime put in the drawer. "How much did you make in that operation ?" asked his wife as he got into bed. "Four cents," was the reply. "A shame it is," returned the irritated dame, "for a man to disturb your rest just for a doso of salts." "Recollect, my love," said the druggist, "that one dose of salts will disturb the man's rest more than It has mine, and reflect, that these little inconveninces always work well in time." The Rochester American tells a story of a lady in that city whose dress was stepped upon by a partner in the dance. The skirt was torn, and a whalebone thrust into the circle in a very unseenly manner. The lady coolly took hold of the article, drew it from her, walked to the door, and threw it out, and took her place in the cotillion just in time to "forward and back." Although her dress "collapsed," she did not. That lady would walk up to the cannon's mouth, or the altar, without fear or trembling. SELLING ACCOUNTS IN PARIS.-The fashionable clubs in Paris have recently been thrown into some excitement by the publication of the names of the most popular dandies, with their debts, which are to be put up at auction and sold to the highest bidder. It looked at first like a sort of "black list," and nothing was talked of but whipping the impertinent scoundrels who asked for money which belonged to them. But it soon appeared that this publication was a matter of form consequent upon the dissolution of a partnership, all the unpaid bills being sold at auction. It created a good deal of astonishment that such names should be found with such bills; for men who were reputed to have large fortunes were found to have bills of seven or eight years' standing unpaid. GRACELESS IMPATIENCE-A little girl, not three years of age, while her father was engaged in family prayer, becoming no doubt weary at the length of the exercise, and happily recollecting how it always terminated, suddenly shouted out, "Amen." After waiting a moment or two and observing that this proved ineffectual, she repeated with more emphasis, "Amen." By this time a smile was creeping over her father's countenance, and noticing that he hesitated a little, and betrayed a manifest effort to proceed with his devotion, she pleasantly added, "Pa, can't you say it?" It is needless to say that the length of the prayer was much shortened.Newark Advertiser. Shirts must be scarce in Nicaragua. A correspondent of the Granada newspaper, signing himself "Titus Bricks," says: "Being very anxious to learn Spanish, I have begun to board at a native's house. Before I was there many days I became acquainted with a very pleasant native woman, who gave me to understand that she washed clothes, and insisted upon washing my shirt. I told her as well as I could that I usually did it myself at the lake, where I could lie in the water until it dried, under the pretence of bathing. Women have always been my weakness. I gave her the shirt four days ago, she has not returned with it. I will not tell you how I feel; but laying abed four days is no joke." Says Mrs. L. M. Child: "I never knew a marriage expressly for money, that did not end unhappily. Yet managing mothers and heartless daughters are continually playing the same unlucky game. I believe that men more frequently marry for love than women, because they have a free choice. I am afraid to conjecture how large a portion of women marry because they think they shall not have a better chance, and dread being dependant. Such marriages, no doubt, sometimes prove tolerably comfortable, but a great number would be far happier single. If I may judge from my own observation of such matters, marrying for a home is a tiresome way of getting a living.' "Why is it that the rainbow and the cloud come over us with a beauty that is not of earth, and then pass away, and leave us to muse on their faded lovliness? Why is it that the stars, which hold their festival around their midnight thrones, are set above the grasp of our limited faculties, forever mocking us with their unapproachable glory? And why is it that bright forms of human beauty are presented to our view, and then taken from us, leaving the thousand dreams of affliction to flow back in Alpine torrents upon our hearts? We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth. There is a realm where the beautiful being that now passes before us like a meteor, will stay in our presence forever!"Prentice. THE "ROSE is SWEET."-A year or so ago, there used to be on "the floor," in one of the hotels of New York, a very lady-like, tidy, pretty, Irish chambermaid, whom it is well enough to call Rose. A grave-seeming, good-looking, but grey haired gentleman, of fifty odd, occupied 103, and, as he sat at his little table one morning, Rose came in to brush a little. "Rose," quoth he, "I've fallen in love with you Can I venture to hope you will think well of me?" "Be sure you may, your honour," replied Rose, with a twink'e of her bright eyes, "for me father and me mother iver told me to rivirence grey hairs all the days of me life!" Rose switched out of the room, and the elderly gentleman went to the barber's. "SUNNY SIDE."--Rev. Dewit Talmadge, the young pastor of a church at Belleville, N. J., was recently married, and was absent from his people some two or three weeks on a wedding tour. Arriving at the parsonage, on his return home, with his wife, he was surprised to fiud the whole house, from attic to cellar, completely provided with appropriate furuiture. During his absence his people had furnished his home with everything desirable, and then presented it as a gift to the young pastor. A PRETTY RIDDLE-"I will consent to all you desire," said a young lady to her lover, "on condition that you will give what you have not,what you never can have, and yet what you can give me." What did she ask for? A husband. The late Sternhold Oakes was rather eccentric, and offered a reward for the best epitaph for his grave. Several tried for the prize, but they all flattered him too much, he thought. At last he tried for himself, and the following was the result:"Here lies the body of Sternhold Oakes, Who lived and died like other folks." That was satisfactory, and the old gentleman claimed the reward, which as he had the paying of it himself, was of course allowed. Punch is wicked enough to print the following paragraph under the head of "Social Statistics:" Thirteen married gentlemen, who, within the last week or so, have been convicted of having smoked in their own dining rooms, have been severally fined a new bonnet, and, in default, have been committed to the hard labor of taking out their wives for an afternoon's shopping.. A miss accepted the offer of a young man to gallant her home, and afterwards fearing that jokes might be cracked at her expense, should the fact become known, dismissed him about half way home, enjoining secresy. "Don't be afraid," said he, "of my saying anything about it for I feel as much ashamed of it as you do." A French master, going on horse-back lately to an academy for ladies, was thrown from his horse into a ditch. When he made his appearance before the mistress, in order to apologise for the dirt which besmeared his habiliments, he said, "Ah, Madame, I have fallen in de dish." "Oui, Monsieur, I see it, you are covered with the gravy." Why are the railroads in the United States like a laundress? Kaze they have ironed nearly the whole country. True; and it may with justice be added, "do considerable of mangling occasionally," but this latter is also gratuitous. Quite a laugh was raised in the Supreme Court, not long since, by an official, who, when the judge called out for the crier to open the court, said, "May it please your Honor, the crier can't cry today, because his wife is dead." An attorney, on being called to account for having acted unprofessionally in taking less than the usual fees from his client, pleaded that he had tak en all the man had! He was thereupon honorably acquitted. Blankets were first made at Bristol, in England, by a poor weaver, whose name was Thomas Blanket, and who gave his name to his peculiar manufacture of woolen cloth. There was point in the quaint remark of a plain farmer to a somewhat, transcendental preacher, "Take care, sir, you do not put the hay so high in the rack the lambs can not reach it." Men's happiness springs mainly from moderate troubles, which afford the mind a healthful stimu lus, and are followed by a re-action which produ ces a cheerful flow of spirits. A question has been raised in one of our courts whether a blind man can be made liable for a bill payable at sight. The lawyers are puzzled. The reputation of a man is like his shadow-gi. gantic when it precedes him, and pigmy in its proportions when it follows. A man turned his son out of doors lately because Devoted wife: "Oh, what a beautiful monument! VOL. XXI. Poetry. PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER WEEK AS A Ꮲ Ꭺ Ꭱ Ꭲ OF THE CONNECTICUT For the Courant. A dream! a dream! was it all a dream? What I thought their eyes and hair? Wearied with study dry? Were those fair forms, like spirits bright, Did I hear the soft breeze murmuring And think 'twas their voices musical Did I never hear their low, sweet tones Save in a Student's dream? Alas, that fancies vanishing If 'twas a dream, was ever dream Did e'er four sweeter beings come To glad the dreamer's heart? One angel, sunny-curled and fair One beauty who, while I adored, These were the visions sent to me, With little sunshine in his life Who wonders then that now he tries To make the vision real, To prove the angel forms were life, And not only ideal. Washington, Penn. A LOST RHYME. F. H. W. For the Courant. BY LOTTIE LINWOOD. Standing here within the casement I am weaving out a rhyme. When life's storm of sorrow lowers! From its mourning, and unrest, And to know no heavier burden Than the snow-flakes on the breast! Hartford, Dec. 15, 1956. MY NAME....BY FLORENCE PERCY. HARTFORD, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1856. "AFTER YOU HAVE TAKEN YOUR NAME AMONG THE ANGELS." In the land where I am going, When my earthly life is o'er, Where the tired hands cease their striving, In that land of light and beauty, When the spirits who await me, Will their welcoming begin? Not the one so dimmed with earth stains, I have heard it all too often, I shall have another name! For the angels will not call me [With all due deference to the poetical beauty of the foregoing, we nevertheless confess to a large share of that earthly feeling so beautifully expressed by Webster, in a letter on the death of his wife, in which he said he "would fain hope, that in kind remembrance of those she has left, in a lingering human sympathy and human love, she may yet be as God created her, a little lower than the angels."] -Portland Advertiser. WOMAN'S MISSION. What highest prize hath woman won in science or in art What mightiest work by woman done boasts city, field or mart? "She hath no Raphael," Painting saith; "no Newton," Learning cries; "Show us her steamship, her Macbeth her thought won victories!" Wait, boastful man! though worthy are thy deeds, when thou art true, Things worthier still, and holier far, our sister yet will do; For this the worth of woman shows: on every peopled shore, Ever as man in wisdom grows, he honors her the more. O, not for wealth, or fame, or power, hath man's meek angel striven, But silent as the growing flower, to make of earth a heaven! And, in her garden of the sun, Heaven's brightest rose shall bloom: For woman's best is unbegun, her advent yet to come! EBENEZER ELLIOTT. The following is the latest emanation from Terrell, the inveterate punster of the Lafayette (Ind.) Journal: "A tattling correspondent of the New York Herald, writing from Lancaster, pretends to give the gauge of a drink he had witnessed the President elect take, one frosty morning at the side board at Wheatland, recently. He irreverently estimates it at 'a couple of inches ;' and expresses the opinion that the depth of the 'Sage's potations visibly increases with his years. There is nothing wonderful in this, for hasn't it passed into the proverb, The older the buck the stiffer the horn!'" Mr. Willis, in the Home Journal, thus gives the leading features of the New York fashions:"Broadway has its usual two leading featuresmen striving to out-dress the fact that life had been to them a failure, and unloved looking women trying the escape valve of millinery for their wasted fires. Equipages are improving in style. Beards and mustachios are at a frightful stage of experiment. Dandies are wearing lace on the ties of their cravats, and, with the undistinguishableness of 'ready made clothes,' the population looks most stereotypically free and equal." MANY of the newspapers, as guardians of the public morals, are seriously taking up the subject of FEMALE EXTRAVAGANCE and are showing the evils which may and do arise to society in cosequence of its existence. The Springfield Republican, in an able article on this topic, estimates that the expenses of the dresses of women have doubled within the last ten years. Women look beautifully, it is true, in their expensive and extravagant dresses, but they do not consider how much real wealth has to leave this country every year to pay for their costly garments. Our indebtedness to Europeans for their silks alone equals in amount all the wheat and flour they will take from us. Had it not been for the gold of California, the nation would long since have either been bankrupt or have been obliged to have better regulated its expenses and its imports. One of the great sources of individual bankruptcy can be traced to the extravagance of women in the various departments of dress, furniture and equipage-to their desire of making a show.Men cannot make money with the same rapidity with which the expenses of fashion increase. The wages of labor-the results of ordinary industrythe profits of either mental or bodily exertiondo not increase in the ratio of the expansion of extravagant show. The result is therefore bankruptcy, or a system of fraud and speculation which terminates in death or imprisonment or in exile. But the greatest evil to society from female extravagance is that it checks marriages among the higher classes in our cities and in this way injures the morals and the well-being of our young men. As they enter life and commence business, they know they cannot marry the extravagant females of the present day. Their income is not sufficient for their support, or the slowly increasing profits will not warrant a marriage with one who will not prove an assistant in economy and thrift. Says the Republican, very forcibly: "The singular fact has been pretty widely published that in Boston, during the past year, the number of marriages has been reduced 20 per cent from the previous year. Now we have not the slightest doubt that this fact grows out of the conscious inability of young men, starting in life and business, to support wives in a manner consonant with the present requisitions of social life. Girls must keep house, and keep in style, or they must board in a costly boarding house, and dress in a manner corresponding to that entertained by the daughters of the millionaire. There is no more of the occupation of the humble room at first-no more of the self-denial by which the wife becomes the sharer of the young husband's poverty and struggles-no more of that adaptation of life to circumstances by which the wife grows up with the husband into fortune-but marriage must now bring, at once, all the advantages and all the show of fortune, or it may not be indulged in. In other words, marriage has become a costly and rare luxury to be had only for money, and not that natural and unrestricted connection of accordant loves and lives which is necessary to the happiness of both man and woman, and essential to the purity and progress of society." There are exceptions,of course, to these statements. There are many, very many, prudent and wise and economical young wives in the land, whose every ef fort is directed to sustain, to assist, to cheer their husbands, and who have the power and the will bravely and lovingly to submit themselves to the circumstances in which they are placed, and to accommodate their expenses to their husband's income. If the example and influence of such could prevail, the extravagance of living would be checked at once in the nation. But the majority of girls in our cities and large towns are brought up to consider show, and stylish dresses and numerous and expensive garments as absolute necessaries of life. The same evil is spreading into the villages and the farm houses. The furniture of the mechanic and the farmer now costs more than three times as much as it did forty years ago. All the expenses of family show have quadrupled in that period. Their wives and daughters now require their silks and their satins-their watches and their jewelry. The evil thus commenced among the wealthy of the cities is disseminating itself everywhere. SAMUEL G. GOODRICH'S RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS LIFE TIME Contain much matter that will interest Hartford readers. The whole book is interesting now, and will long remain a most authentic and reliable account of the internal economy of New England life, the domestic habits of the people and the genuine home life of cultivated families in Connecticut. There is a frankness and honesty in the statements, that reminds us of the most truthful autobiography ever penned, the confessions of Rous seau. In many respects President Dwight's Travels is a more closely analogous book. Samuel G. Goodrich was born in Ridgefield, in 1793-the son of Samuel Goodrich, and the nephew of Chauncey Goodrich of Hartford, and of Elizur Goodrich of New Haven. Early in 1811, being at that time 18 years of age, Samuel G. Goodrich made his appearance in Hartford, as clerk to a dry goods mérchant, one C. B. K., who failed in business, the same autumn. This transferied young Samuel to the dry goods store of J B. H., (who seems to have been pretty much the same man 45 years since, that he now is.) His uncle Chauncey Goodrich, was then living in the house on Prospect street, now occupied by M. W. Chapin. Young Samuel G became discontented with his position, and having joined our artillery company and being ordered to the coast to defend New London, commenced soldier's life. The late General Nathan Johnson was his captain, and is thus described, "our captain, Johnson, was an eminent lawyer of martial appearance, and great taste for military affairs. He afterward rose to the rank of general." Mr. Goodrich tells the flannel petticoat story of Mrs. Anna Bailey who stripped off that garment to make cartridges for the defence of Fort Griswold. He also gives a lively account of the British fleet, Decatur and his ships-camp-life generally, and the false blue-lights story. There is no particle of reason to believe that the lights seen were anything but signals by the British to the British. He entirely exempts New London from any imputations upon its patriotism, and the whole story may well be consid. • ered at this day, as utterly baseless. From 1818 to 1823, Mr. Goodrich was a book publisher in Hartford, and of course became familiar with Hartford society. He sketches the late Bishop Wainwright, Isaac Toucey, Wm. L. Stone, Jonathan Law, Doct. Comstock, Wm. C. Woodbridge; speaks of the Hartford Wits, Lemuel Hopkins, Theodore Dwight, Richard Alsop, Mason F. Cogswell, Doctor Nathan Strong, Daniel Wadsworth, Mrs. Sigourney, Gallaudet and Clerc. In 1822, the poet Brainard appears at Major Ripley's Hotel, The city of Hartford, ever noted for its fine situation, in one of the fertile and beautiful vales of the Connecticut, is now distinguished for its wealththe fruit of extraordinary sagacity and enterprise on the part of its inhabitants-as well as for its interesting institutions-literary, charitable, and phi lanthropic. It presented, however, a different aspect at the time of which I am speaking. It had, indeed, formerly enjoyed some reputation as a sort of literary focus-it being the residence of Trumbull, the author of McFingal, of Hopkins, the bludgeon satirist, author of the "Hypocrite's Hope," of Theodore Dwight, and some others, known in their day as the "Hartford Wits." This distinction was well deserved, for it is rare indeed that three satirical poets, of so much vigor, are found working together. It is especially rare to find them, as in this instance, united in an amicable as well as a literary brotherhood. In my time Hopkins was dead; Trumbull had left off poetry for a seat on the bench of the Supreme Court, and Dwight was devoted to the Connecticut Mirror-a newspaper distinguished all over the country for Its vigilant and spicy vindication of federalism. His New Year's verses were always looked for with eagerness, for they usually contained a review of events, with dashes at the times, in which the doings of democracy were painted in the unsparing colors of Hudibrastic ridicule. Many passages of these are now worthy of being read, as well on account of their illustration of the spirit of the time, as their keen and cutting satire. On the whole, however, Hartford was then a small commercial town, of four thousand inhabitants, dealing in lumber, and smelling of molasses and Old Jamaica-for it had still some trade with the West Indies. Though the semi-capital of the State-the yearly sessions of the legislature being held there and at New Haven, alternately-it was strongly impressed with a plodding, mercantile, and mechanical character. There was a high tone of general intelligence and social respectability about the place, but it had not a single institution, a single monument, that marked it as even a provincial metropolis of taste, in literature, art, or refinement. The leading men were thrifty mechanics, with a few merchants, and many shop-keepers, society of course taking its hue from these dominant classes. There were lawyers, judges, and public functionaries-men of mark-but their spirit did not govern the town. There were a few dainty patricians, who held themselves aloof, secure of that amiable worship which in all ages is rendered to rank. But where are they now? The answer would be a lesson and a warning to those who build their claims to homage on pretense. Such was the state of things, at the time I arrived in this city. Some time after, a new era began to dawn, the light of which is still visible in the very air and aspect of the place. Let me give you a few measures of this striking progress. In 1810, the population of Hartford was three thousand nine hundred and fifty-five: in 1856, it is probably about twenty thousand. The American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, Trinity College, the Retreat for the Insane, the Wadsworth Atheneum-all excellent institutions-have been founded since my arrival in the town. The churches-then four in number-have increased to twenty-five, and by their towering and tasteful spires, give the place, as you approach it, the aspect of a Holy City. Every creed and shade of creed is represented, from Puritan orthodoxy up and down, to Roman Catholic, Second Advent, and Synagogue worshipers. There were three weekly journals, five and forty years ago; now there are two dailies, eight weeklies, and two monthlies. The manufacture of books, machines, carpets, pianos, hardware, hats, rifles, pistols-all established within forty years-now employ a capital of five millions of dollars. Colt's pistol-factory, with its accessories, is a marvelous example of ingenious art and liberal enterprise. The aggregate Bank Capital is about six millions. The various Insurance Companies spread their protection against fire, far and wide-reaching into almost every State in the Union. Is not this progress? Miscellaneous. Daniel Webster in Private Life. CATCHING BLUE FISH-TO MR BLATCHFORD. EDGARTOWN, MARTHA'S VINEYARD, Wednesday Morning, Aug 8,1849. My Dear Sir: Yesterday morning I went forth for blue fish. The boatman steered direct for the Sound, five miles north, then doubled the eastern chop of the harbor, Cape Poge, called Pogue, where the light is, and ran along close to the shore on the eastern side of the island. The wind was unsteady and baffling, and much thwarted and perplexed the boatman, who intended to make a great day of it. At 9 o'clock we found fish, and practised our vocation at intervals, as the breeze would allow, till 1. We took 43 fish, I think my takings were 25. The boatmen took a few, and a gentleman with us the rest. Now to compare this with Duxbury Bay. The fish are more plenty, the range of going for them larger, and they are sure of being found every day somewhere. On the other haud, the best fishing is not so much protected by land, as the fishing in Duxbury. It is outside, as our fishing at home would be,if we fished from the mouth of Green Harbor River along the shore to the Gurnet. This is all very well when the wind is off shore, but when it blows on the shore the sea of course would be rough. In point of size, the fish are not much different from those we found in Duxbury Bay, perhaps a lit tle larger, but this may be owing to the advance of the season. I thought them remarkably fat and plump, and they pulled like horses. Once or twice we saw schools of them above water, leaping and frolicking. I thought as good fishing as any we had was when we lay at anchor, and threw the hook, at the end of a long line, into the foaming and roaring surf. One thing was new to me. You have seen on the surface of the sea, those smooth places, which fishermen and sailor call slicks. We met with them yesterday, and our boatman made for them, whenever discovered. He said they were caused by the blue fish chopping up their prey. That is to say, these voracious fellows get into a school of manhaden, which are too large to swallow whole,and they bite them into pieces, to suit their tastes. And the oil from this butchery, rising to the surface, makes the slick. Whatever the cause may be, we invariably found fish plenty whenever we came to a slick. Passing to the southward, we came into the harbor, through an opening at the south end, three miles from the town. In reality, this opening is the best fishing ground, and we should have done better to have proceeded to it directly in the morning. But our captain was ambitious, and hoped, I believe, to find greater fish outside. The Island of Chappsquiddick lies opposite the town here, and very near it, and is generally said to be an island in Edgartown harbor. This is not exactly so; you cannot navigate round the island keeping within the harbor, and not going to sea. In strictness, it is not an island, but a peninsula connected with the main land on the sea shore, at its south-east corner, by a narrow isthmus. See the map. So much for blue fish catching at Edgartown, August 7, 1849. To-day we have a bright morning, after rather a cool night. I am to try my hand at plover shooting at seven o'clock. Yours truly, whether fishing or shooting, HOW TO COOK POTATOES-BAKED BEANS AND PEA SOUP. To His Son, Fletcher. GREEN HARBOR, May, 1849. DEAR FLETCHER: I send a quarter of lamb to roast; and if not too rainy will come to dine with you Tell Mr. Baker the hour. Potatoes. Let these potatoes be peeled early, and thrown into a basin of cold water till time to cook them. Let them be boiled in a good deal of water. When done, pour off all the water, shake up the potatoes a little, hang on the pot again, and let the potatoes dry two or three minutes, and then bring them to the table. I remember when we heard Hannah Curtis shaking her pot we knew that dinner was coming. FLETCHER: D. W. WASHINGTON, December, 1848. Ask Mr. Pierce, under your office, for a clean box, which will hold one bushel; divide it into two compartments; in one put half a bushel best beans such as Boston people use to make a dish of baked beans, for Sunday; in the other half a bushel of best peas, such as the same sensible people use when they wish to make that delicious dish, a good pea soup, and send the box to me in some way, not too expensive. Perhaps by a coaster to Baltimore, and thence here by the cars. D. W. MR. WEBSTER ON TRIPE-TO MRS. PAIGE. WASHINGTON, Dec. 20, 1856. MY DEAR MRS. PAIGE:-I sat down to write a letter, partly diplomatic and partly historical. The subject is Tripe.-T. R. I. P. E. Your husband remembers Mrs. Hayman, who was Mrs. Blake's cook. Excelling others in all else, she excelled herself in a dish of tripe. I do not know that her general genius exceeded that of Monica McCarty; but in this production she was more exact, more artistical, she gave to the article not only a certain gout, which gratified the most fastidious, but an expression also, an air of haut ton, as it lay presented on the table, that assured one that he saw before him something from the hand of a master. Tradition, it is said, occasionally hands down the practical arts with more precision and fidelity than they can be transmitted by books from generation to generation; and I have thought it likely that your Lydia may have caught the tact of preparing this inimitable dish. I entertain this opinion on two grounds; first, because I have been acquainted with very respectable efforts of hers, in that line; second, because she knows Mr Paige's admirable connoisseurship, and can determine, by her quick eye, when the dish comes down from the table, whether the contents have met his approbation. For these reasons, and others, upon which it is not necessary for the undersigned to enlarge, he is desirous of obtaining Lydia's receipt for a dish of tripe for the dinner table. Mrs. Hayman's is before my eyes. Unscathed by the frying pan, it was white as snow; it was disposed in squares or parallellograms, of the size of a small sheet of ladies' note paper; it was as tender as jelly; beside it stood the tureen of melted butter, a dish of mealy potatoes, and the vinegar cruet. Can this spectacle be exhibited in the Vine Cottage, on avenue, Louisiana, in the City Washington? Yours truly, always, WASHINGTON, Dec. 14, 1848. DEAR SIR: I arrived here last evening, in good health, except a light cold, taken in the cars. On the way I fell in with Governor Hill, and had another talk with him about potatoes. He says he has raised two thousand bushels this year, and sold one thousand in Boston, at over three dollars a barrel. He says his potato crop has paid all the labor on his whole farm. His land is pine land, sandy, and with a thin soil. He plowed it, and subsoil plowed it. He thinks subsoil plowing excellent for all lands; that it doubles the crop. His principal kind of potatoes is the York red, sometimes called the Pennsylvania red; it is not much like our long reds. He uses compost for manure altogether, plowing it or harrowing it in, and puts none in the hole. He plants as early as he can. He says he has twenty acres now under way for next year. There is also a Mr. Kimball, living on Long Island, on land much like ours, who says his potato crop this year has given him a hundred dollars per acre. These statements have half led me to think of one more trial, on a large scale; that is, the whole field opposite your house. The only difficulty in making the trial, will be the manure. Can we make compost enough? That is the question. With mud and manure from the ox barn, with a hundred bushels of bone-dust, together with some lime and some ashes, can we make three hundred loads of conpost manure? I am afraid it would be difficult, but I wish you to consider it. We have strength of team enough to do the work. If we I could be getting the mud and the barn manure and hog manure together in a pile, in January or February, we might towards the 1st of March, pitch it over, aud mix with it the bone dust, ashes and lime, and put all in a heap, and by April it would be heated, dissolved, and fit for use. Think of all this. I do not wish to break up a small field. If we make a trial, it must be on a large scale, and exactly according to the approved course in such husbandry. The main mass must be mud. If you have resolution to undertake the job, I will get the lime and bones when I go home, and the ashes when we can. I repeat, the great ingredient must be mud, heated and dissolved by barn manure, bone dust and lime. I believe there is no doubt I shall return about Christmas. I presume you have killed nothing yet. The weather is too damp. THE POLICY OF GENERAL TAYLOR-THE COMPROMISES OF 1850. To Franklin Haven of Boston. [Private] WASHINGTON, Sept. 12, 1850. MY DEAR SIR; I use the confidential hand of another to write you a short letter, my eyes holding out to perform a small part of the duty expected from them every day. I am in the midst of my periodical catarrh or "hay fever," or whatever you please to call it, but which you know all about.I read nothing, and hardly write any thing but signatures. The disease is depressing and discouraging. I know that there is no remedy for it, and that it must have its course. It produces loss of appetite and great prostration of strength; but since the event of last week terminated, I have some little time for rest, and shutting myself up very much, I keep as quiet as I can. My dear sir, I think the country has had a providential escape from very considerable dangers.I was not aware of the whole extent of the embarrassment likely to arise till I came here last December, and had opportunities of conversation with Gen. Taylor, and the gentlemen of his administration. Gen. Taylor was an honest and truly patriotic man; but he had quite enough of that quality which, when a man is right, we call firmnsss, and when he is wrong, we denominate obstinacy. What has been called the President's plan was simply this, to wit: to admit California under her free constitution, and to let the territories alone altogether, until they could come in as states. This policy as it was thought, would avoid all discussion and all voting on the question of the Wilmot Proviso.All that matter, it was supposed, might be thus postponed, and the slavery question staved off. The objection to this plan was the same as that to poor King Lear's idea of shoeing a company of horse in felt, and stealing upon his enemies. It was flatly impossible; that's all. But the purpose was settled and decided. Gen. Taylor told me, in the last conversation I had with him, that he preferred that California should not come in at all, rather than that she should come in bringing the territories on her back. And if he had lived it might have been doubtful whether any general settlement would have been made. He was a soldier, and had a little fancy, I am afraid, to see how easily any military movement by Texas could have been put down.His motto was, "vi et armis !" He had a soldier's foresight, and saw quite clearly what would be the result if Texan militia should march into New Mexico, and there be met by troops of the regular army of the United States. But that he had a statesman's foresight, and foresaw what consequences might happen in the existing state of men's opinions and feelings, if blood should be shed in a contest between the United States and one of the southern states, is more than I am ready to affirm. Yet long before his death, and in the face of that observation which he made to me, as already stated, I made up my mind to risk myself on a propo sition for a general pacification. I resolved to push my skiff from the shore alone, considering that, in case she foundered, there would be but one life lost. Our friend Harvey happened to be here, and with him and Mr. Edward Curtis, I held a little council the evening before the speech What followed is known. Most persons here thought it impossible that I should' maintain myself, and stand by what I declared. They wished, and hoped, aud prayed, but fear prevailed. When I went to Bostou soon afterward, and was kindly received, and intimated that I should take no march backward, they felt a little encouraged. But truly it was not until Mr. Eliot's election that there was any confident assurance here that I was not a dead man. It would be of little consequence, my dear sir, if I could only say that Boston saved me; but I can say with all sincerity, and with the fullest conviction of truth, that Boston saved the country. From the commencement of the government, no such consesequences have attended any single election as those that flowed from Mr. Eliot's election. That election was a clear and convincing proof that there was breaking out a new fountain of brilliant light in the East, and men imbibed hopes in which they had never before indulged. At this moment it is true that Mr. Eliot is the greatest lion that exhibits himself on Pennsylvania avenue. He is considered the personation of Boston-ever intelligent, ever patriotic, ever glorious Boston-and whatever prejudices may have existed in the minds of honorable southern men against our good city they are now all sunk and lost forever in their admiration of her nationality of spirit. But I must stop here. There is much else that I could say, and may say hereafter, of the importance of the crisis through which we have passed. I am not yet free from the excitement it has produced. I am like one who has been sea-sick and has gone to bed. My bed rolls and tosses by the billows of that sea over which I have passed. My dear sir, this is for your own eye. You are much younger than I am, and hereafter possibly you may recur to this hastily dictated letter not without interest. If you think it worth reading, you may show it to T. B. Curtis, Mills, Fearing and Harvey, &c. It is but half an hour's gossip, when I can do nothing but talk and dictate to a confidential clerk. Yours, always truly, DAN'L WEBSTER. MAPLE SUGAR AND WHEAT-TO MR. BLATCHFORD OF NEW YORK. WASHINGTON, Feb. 15, 1849. In the Senate, Thursday, 2 o'clock. MY DEAR SIR:-My last letter from you was your early letter of last Monday morning. I hope you had a bright day, found all well and all things right at Boston, had a safe return, and found all right at the Astor House. Our mornings here have been fine, cold and bright, and the middle of the day warın. It is what we farmers call sugar weather, and if it shall last a month or six weeks, the productions of the year will be great. When the nights are cold, the days warm, and the wind west, the sugar maple or rock maple yields its sap freely. If the wind shifts, and brings warmer nights and cloudy days, the flow of sap stops. And now, learned reader, "mark a distinction," as Lord Coke says. Good sugar weather is bad wheat weather. Wheat, sown last fall, shows itself, you know, as soon as the snow is off. If, then, there be cold nights and warm days, the young plant suffers. Under the warmth and heat of the sun, it vegetates, expands and becomes full of sap and tender. And then the cold of the night chills it, and often kills it, though it may spring again from the root. This is winter killing. It is indeed the same process of things as that which injures the peach-trees when their vernation is too early. Now, my dear sir, you know many things; but I doubt whether you knew before that when you buy a maple orchard in Western New York, and a wheat farm by the side of it,the weather in March and April, which shall be favorable to your sugar crop, will be unfavorable to your wheat crop; so, you see, you daily grow wiser by my elaborate corresponence. And there is another thing, which I do not believe you can make much of a guess about, and that is the amount or quantity of maple sugar made annually in the United States. I sup |