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THE RAG-BAG 
 
 COLLECTION OF EPHEMEEA 
 
 N. PAEKEE WILLIS 
 
 <L 
 
 r 
 
 NEW YOKE: 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 
 
 1855. 
 
7S3 3 2.4- 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1855, by 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 tobitt's combination-ttpb, 
 181 William st. 
 
SUBSCRIBE D 
 
 TO 
 
 Ml €a\\%tuxi ix'xnti oft $ jeliflto-f BlwrM, 
 
 FOR TWENTY OR MORE YEARS, 
 
 GEOBGE P. MORRIS, 
 
 WITH SENTIMENTS AND LABORS " TO BE CONTINUED." 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 The following volume is a selection from the articles 
 written for the Home Journal, of which the author is one 
 of the Editors. The change in the taste of the times — 
 literature being more served in small fragments than it 
 used to be— is one inducement to collect these brief 
 compositions into a book ; but another reason is the 
 feeling of the author that they deserve it as well as his 
 other writings, in being written with equal care and 
 elaboration ; while the approbation which they have met 
 with in the success of the periodical of which they were 
 the leading feature, makes it certain that they will be, at 
 least, saleable. Such a collection, however, will have 
 still another value, as containing photographs of the 
 passing events, celebrities, and topics of the time, and 
 just that look and impress of them which were lost in 
 the bubble-breaking now of the tide of periodical litera- 
 
vi. PEEFACE. 
 
 ture. They are " rags" — but they •will be useful for a 
 re-glauce at the web and woof of the time in which they 
 were written ; and the author trusts they will also be 
 found to contain a scrap or two that the world may be 
 not unwilling to patch into the quilt of its kind remem- 
 brance. 
 
 Idlewild, 1855. • 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 The Newspaper . . . . .11 
 
 Three Days in. the Country . .15 
 
 Gentlemen's Sons in New York •. . . .19 
 
 The Prize Fight, and its Under-Current and Bearings . 22 
 
 The Article Youth in New York ... 28 
 
 On Furnishing a House; 
 
 Moral of Furniture— Servile Copying of Neighbors in America— Heart- 
 work and affectionate Taste done by Upholsterers and Cabinet-ma- 
 kers — English aim in Furnishing — Vulgarity of Newness — Chairs 
 suited to Individuals— Disrespectfulness of Easy Seats taken by 
 Slight Acquaintances— Preserved Nucleus of Old Furniture — English 
 look-out for choice articles to express affection— Careful location of 
 articles in a drawing-room, to produce variety and a look of uncere- 
 moniousness— The Wife's Corner— Place for tete-a-tete— Pictures- 
 Value of Home Associations— Duty of Poets and Preachers 'as to 
 Culture of Home Attachments, etc. .... 32 
 
 (7) 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 Barnum's Prize, of $200 for the best "Welcome Song" to 
 
 Jenny Lind ..... 37 
 
 Society, lately . . . . . 40 
 
 "What is upon Us : 
 
 Paris coming over— The Westwardizing of the World's Centre— The 
 Jenny Iiind epoch of Artistic Migration — Franconi's troop— Circus- 
 riders " in society"— Cerito— Camille Leroux— Fashionable Amphi- 
 theatre in Broadway— Coming of a new class of Travellers and 
 Idlers to New York— Necessary changes in Luxuries and Accommo- 
 dations—Probable French Theatre, and Formation of English and 
 French Society, etc. etc. . . . . . 45 
 
 Uppermost Gossip — Society Breakers a-head . . 49 
 
 Town Gossip ..... 58 
 
 Tke Central Plane . . ... . 65 
 
 The Ladies A-stir — Rights of the Sex discussed recently at 
 
 the Ohio Female Convention . . 69 
 
 Gossipping Letter — To the Lady Subscriber out of New York 78 
 
 The Trade of Authorship .... 83 
 
 Opera, and the Uses of the Pit . . . .88 
 
 Life Boats ....... 91 
 
 Valuation of a " Foreign Appointment" . . .96 
 
 Moral of May Movings . . . . 101 
 
 Things Wasted . .■ . . . 103 
 
 International Liberality ..... 107 
 
 Inaccessible Pictures and Statuary . . . 114 
 
 Question for New York Clubs . . . .117 
 
 Letter on Passing Topics : 
 
 Visit to the Residence of the late Mr. Downing— Coming Sale of that 
 beautiful spot, and thoughts thereupon— Visit to Mr. Clay's Law 
 Office at Lexington, and Description of it— Sontag, pointed out by 
 Theodore Fay, while conversing with the King of Prussia in an 
 Opera-box at Berlin— Her curious history— Thackeray— His Per- 
 sonal Appearance and Manners— Probabilities of Popularity here — 
 Anecdote of him, etc. etc. ..... 121 
 
CONTENTS. ix 
 
 Editorial Memoranda . . . . . 130 
 
 Town Gossip for the Country with any Lady Subscriber at a 
 
 Distance ...... 136 
 
 Second Homage to the American Aristocracy . . 143 
 
 The Town, Just Now .... 150 
 
 Uppermost Town Topics . . . . 155 
 
 .Private Habits and Manners of Jenny Lind . . 158 
 
 Orations and $100 ( ..... 164 
 
 American Homage to Woman . . 167 
 
 Ladies, vs. Lords of Creation . , . . 173 
 
 French Society, Apropos of the Society of New York . 178 
 
 Post-Mortuum Soiree ..... 184 
 
 Dress Excitement, and Probable Increase of Eemale Beauty 195 
 
 Ghost Knockings ..... 199 
 
 The " Newspaper Antidote" .... 206 
 
 Town Topics . . . . .210 
 
 11 " ..... 214 
 
 City News and Chat ..... 219 
 
 Public Enthusiasms . . . 223 
 The Mothers of the Bible • . . . .229 
 
 Letter on Passing Topics . . . 235 
 Portraits of Three New York Belles . . .241 
 
 New York Society .... 256 
 
 Autographs ...... 260 
 
 A Little Gossip ..... 262 
 
 Nature Introduced into Society . - . . . 267 
 
 The Husband Market .... 27"1 
 
 Fashion, Movements, and the Season . . , 274 
 
 Town Topics . . . , , 277 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Editorial Confabs 
 
 Confab I. 
 Confab II. 
 Confab III. 
 Confab IV. 
 Confab V. 
 Confab VI. 
 Confab VII. 
 Confab VIII. 
 Confab IX. 
 Confab X. , 
 Confab XI. 
 
 285 
 291 
 296 
 304 
 314 
 320 
 328 
 332 
 341 
 347 
 352 
 
THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 THE NEWSPAPER. 
 
 As we feel the sunshine ; as we breathe the balmy air ; as 
 we draw our life of life from household affection — all uncon- 
 sciously — so we drink in the pleasures and blessings of the 
 newspaper ; careless, yet eager, and though dependent, 
 unthankful. He must be an imaginative man who can tell the 
 value of the newspaper, for only he can fancy what it would 
 be to be deprived of it. Another Byron might write another 
 "Darkness" on the state of a world newspaperless. (Q. Why 
 not newspaperless as well as " sailorless ?') If we should 
 attempt to personify such a world it would be under the form 
 of a blind man holding in his hand the empty string from which 
 his dog has escaped ; or the good lady in Hood's picture, with 
 her foot advanced to step on board a steamer which she sud- 
 
12 
 
 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 denfy observes to have moved six feet from the wharf. Or, 
 again, a stranger in the bottom of a mine, who, after blowing 
 out his " Davy," runs to the shaft and finds that somebody- 
 has taken away the ladder. But images of blank confusion 
 and inanity crowd upon us so fast, that we shall become poet- 
 ical against our will if we pursue this vein. 
 
 A family friend, who is constant in his attentions : full of 
 information ; not too dignified to take some interest in the gos- 
 sip of the day for our amusement ; with a good memory for 
 fine poetry, and the happy faculty of relating an anecdote 
 well ; with gravity for sad hours and gayety for our glad ones ; 
 not exigeant, nor touchy, if we use the privilege of intimacy to 
 overlook him sometimes — how pleasant is such a friend ! how 
 rare ! We may " wish that heaven had made us such a man ;" 
 but, meanwhile, we had- better make the most of the newspa- 
 per, which, if it be worthy the name, possesses most of his 
 qualifications. How quiet is its appeal, what a feeling of 
 acquaintance and sympathy is awakened by a glance at its 
 head, expressive to us even without manipulation. "What a 
 conversational tone the mind assumes, as we read the 
 editorial ; questioning and anon assenting ; our eyebrows 
 rising at novelty ; our head nodding with complacent wisdom 
 at " our sentiments better expressed." When we turn to the 
 Items, what images of the bustling outer world — of the jost- 
 ling throng " down town," — what a lively sense of the 
 innumerable interests, independent of our interests, and the 
 infinite variety of thoughts different from our thoughts rise 
 in succession before us ; enlivening, softening, humanizing us 
 as we read. Who can sit enfolded in rayless egotism that 
 reads a good newspaper ? Who dares be self-righteous. 
 
THE NEWSPAPER. 13 
 
 hard-hearted, bigoted, censorious — that looks daily into the 
 great camera of human life ? 
 
 We fcalk of telegraphic wonders ; but the greatest of all is 
 the newspaper, opened at the same moment, by thousands, 
 and, 
 
 Striking the electric chain wherewith we're darkly bound, 
 
 filling them all, on the instant, with the self-same thought. 
 Men are more brotherly than they know of, while they read 
 the papers. Their hearts beat for the time in unison, momen- 
 tarily withdrawn from the oppugnant attitude of competition, 
 and confessing, salutarily, even though unconsciously, the 
 pleasure of sympathy. How beautiful a comment on the 
 humane office of a newspaper is the fact, that not one of any 
 credit ever makes an appeal to the charities of its readers in 
 behalf any case of suffering, without having occasion to sig- 
 nify, in the very nest issue, that the call has been answered. 
 
 Prosperity can never harden the heart of him who reads 
 the newspaper aright ; nor can fancied goodness make him 
 judge others severely, or a sense of intellectual superiority 
 inspire him with contempt for the less gifted. There is per- 
 haps no surer or pleasanter way of acquiring self-knowledge, 
 and that patient kindliness which is its sure companion, than 
 by acquainting ourselves largely with the hopes, fears, wants, 
 devices, errors and disappointments of other men. The inner 
 voice whispers — " even such am I ! —subject to all this — capa- 
 ble of all — hoping, fearing, and wishing thus !" a most health- 
 ful suggestion to every human heart. 
 
 We have thus far been speaking impartially and from simple 
 experience ; a word or two on a weekly paper will but vindi- 
 cate our candor. The ideal of a paper that comes to us but 
 
14 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 once a week, has a nearer and more personal interest. Prom- 
 inent on this is — not so much the vivid picture of busy, strug- 
 gling life, aa what our friends and counsellors, the editqrs, think 
 of this life. The passing scene is not allowed to phototype 
 itself indiscriminately, with all the blurs and grotesque distor- 
 tions that even sunshine, undisciplined, is prone to make ; but 
 chosen and arranged — composed — shown up in artistic bits 
 " by the best masters ;" commended to us by the stamp of 
 taste ; exhibiting Nature indeed, but Nature as seen through 
 eyes specially endowed. The feeling that all these good and 
 pleasant things have been secretly preparing for us during the 
 whole week is present, and present for good, as we gently unfold 
 the sheet of which we know no corner is vacant of interest, 
 lere curiosity has been satiated in the daily report of ordi- 
 nary news ; it has little. part in the haste with which we seize 
 on our favorite weekly. But why do we say our favorite ? 
 These things are matter of affinity rather than of choice. 
 There are people born to read the Home Journal, to 
 vvhom it goes as naturally as dew to the flower ; and it is for 
 these natural readers of ours that we have ventured to give 
 form to our private revery on newspapers in general. 
 
THREE DAYS IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 Will the reader pardon us, if, from our mental snuff-box, 
 we offer him a pinch of idleness 7 Of three days in the coun- 
 try, during which we have scarce remembered the possibility 
 of a town or a paragraph, we should like to share the little-or- 
 nothings. It has doubtless been a stimulus to our brain — as 
 the mill goes faster and makes more noise when there is no 
 grist in the hopper — and we may make fly the adjectives and 
 pronouns to little purpose or profit ; but you love us enough 
 (we are bent on believing) to be pleased now and then if we 
 but talk of what pleases us. It were less egotistical, we well 
 know, and certainly more pointed and pungent, to give you 
 
 but the thorns from our path of briars ; but, on every shrub 
 
 15 
 
16 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 that can harm us, there grows a flower as well ; and we must 
 be pardoned if we loiter to pluck it, and if we talk of its sweet- 
 ness afterwards — though what we distil from our roses only, may 
 be too much of an oito-biography. 
 
 We left town on as lovely a June afternoon as ever sat to 
 a poet for its picture, and were shaken like a pepper-castor 
 over the railway to Cold Spring, spicing the road, perhaps, 
 with the cares we went dropping behind us. " Undercliff," 
 whither we were making our " pilgrim's progress," is a half 
 mile of ascent from the Station, and with thoughts divided 
 between Morris waiting dinner for us and " Christian released 
 from his burthen," we took the cross-path over the fields — 
 then and there, of course, though fifty miles from town, get- 
 ting first free of the atmosphere of smoke and cinders, and 
 inhaling the first breath of the clover-laden air of the country. 
 Is there no way to ventilate rail-cars 1 How long will the 
 lungs of passengers serve as chimneys to locomotives % 
 
 The virgin day, newly wedded to the sun, was beginning 
 to blush at his descent to his repose, when we came within the 
 murmur of a fountain, and saw Morris (our partner) sitting 
 under the new-gloved fingers of a hemlock. It was as little 
 like 107 Fulton street as could well be imagined — no ledgers 
 nor brown envelopes, no poets nor puff seekers, no twine-balls 
 nor paste-pots, no pile of letters to answer, and no printers 
 with proofs. It was as green and tranquil as Eden before a 
 newspaper was thought of, though the gold-fish under the 
 eternal " droppings in" of the troubled basin in which they 
 swam, were unconscious types of the profession of their mas- 
 ter. We turned and looked around, and oh how beautiful 
 seemed the scenery of the Highlands ! What short memories 
 
THREE DAYS IN THE COUNTRY. 17 
 
 have even the most loving eyes, and with what bran-new sur- 
 prises of impression do we return to scenes with which we 
 have been familiar ! Trees grow while one is absent, too, and 
 there is new weather every day, and thus it is — though there 
 is probably some deeper law of Providence to account for it 
 — external Nature never grows stale or weary. It seemed 
 to us that we had never seen the Highlands of West Point 
 (that bow-knot of the ribbon of mountains that festoons the 
 State of New- York) look half so ench^ntingly beautiful. 
 
 We dined, and idled, and talked of what the full moon over 
 our heads could safely be privy to, and went to bed for a 
 country sleep — and solid it was ! How different is the slum- 
 ber on Nature's bosom where it is not paved over ! One's 
 dreams and pulses seem to keep time to the growing grass. 
 We should reform, perhaps, the manners of Morris's cocks 
 and hens, that are as noisy as if all the world must get up 
 to love and go worm-ing when they do — but even when thus 
 disturbed into seeing the sun rise, what a delicious appendix 
 to the night's sleep is the country drowse, with open 
 windows, till breakfast ! The " industry in morning air," 
 by the way, which was preached to us when we were more of 
 a chicken, we were never poultry enough to comprehend. Our 
 worms are not above ground, so early. 
 
 A blessed day of summer, without news or other nuisance 
 — everything to enjoy and nothing to chronicle ! In a long 
 drive which we took in the forenoon, Morris stopped at a kiln 
 to inquire the price of bricks. Bricks are high — five dollars 
 and a half a thousand, but they have been up to six, and 
 down to two and a half, and " there's no knowing." So said 
 
18 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 the man in the red shirt, and we thanked Heaven that this 
 was the day's most stirring topic "from without." 
 
 Cold Spring is most felicitously situated, as to river and 
 mountains, but, of this, the traveller on steamboat and rail- 
 car gets no idea in passing. The difference between looking 
 at a place from a distance, and looking at the distance from a 
 place, is as considerable as the difference between fame and 
 scandal. Our friend's portico at Undercliff is on the instep 
 of a mountain's foot, aro^md which the Hudson makes a half- 
 circle, and his views up stream beyond Newburgh, and down 
 stream below West Point, and over the lake like waters which 
 widen between him and Oro'-nest, are probably the three finest 
 on the whole shore of the river. An excursion to Cold Spring, 
 and an ascent of the mountain side in the rear of Undercliff, 
 would be worth your while. 
 
 But this stubbed pen is getting to look drudge-y, and we 
 vowed to call upon its nib for nothing but idleness. Less 
 tendrils and more fruit at another time, dear reader ! Pardon 
 us this helping of ourself to a holiday, and believe us, now 
 that we are back again. 
 
GENTLEMEN'S SONS IN NEW-YOBK. 
 
 If our wealthy citizens, in matters of private life, do not 
 know, (in the best sense of the phrase,) " what is good for 
 them," they usually know, (in the worst sense of the phrase,) 
 "what is for their interest." "We wish to speak of one excep- 
 tion, even to this latter prevalence of instinct. 
 
 There are two things, besides fortune, which a man may 
 
 give to his son — the figure to grace it, and the health to enjoy 
 
 it. There are two things a man must leave to his son with a 
 
 fortune — envy that will delight in any physical unfitness for it, 
 
 and temptation that will take great advantage both of an unin- 
 
 stilled valuation of health and of the weak purpose which 
 
 accompanies debility. Now, as the two additions, that may 
 
 be left with a fortune may correct the two drawbacks that 
 
 19 
 
20 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 must be left with it, one would suppose that a careful parent, 
 (not to say a kind one,) would look after these, among other 
 
 risks and provisions — would as soon, that is to say, leave pro- 
 
 » 
 
 perty without a key or an insurance, as leave it without the 
 health and manliness which can alone secure its appropriation 
 and preserve its value. 
 
 A young Englishman taking a walk, in Broadway, with the 
 son of an American to whom he has brought a letter, is an 
 every day spectacle — yet a spectacle which would, in most 
 cases, answer for a picture of a healthy man taking a walk 
 with an invalid. The frame of one is fully developed, his 
 chest is broad, his step firm, his look that of a man who could 
 enjoy anything or defend himself from any intrusion upon his 
 rights. The other is pale, flat and narrow-chested, undersized, 
 weak limbed, and looks like a man who could neither eat 
 with a healthy appetite, nor hold his own with any moderate- 
 sized man who should assail him. The average height of the 
 wealthy young men of New- York perceptibly dwindles with 
 the number of the same family through whom the property 
 has descended — a man who had a rich grandfather being 
 smaller, usually, than one who had only a rich father. In 
 England, as is well known, it is just the contrary ; — the bet- 
 ter descended a man is, the more care has been taken, 
 commonly, of his boyish health, and manly exercises, and the 
 better developed his system and figure. English gentle- 
 men are taller and healthier than English working-men. 
 American gentlemen are diminutive and feeble-looking in com- 
 parison with American mechanics and farmers. The difference 
 between the two countries, as to the pleasure of leaving a for- 
 tune, is easily estimated, therefore, for it is the difference 
 
GENTLEMEN'S SONS IN NEW-YOKK. 21 
 
 between a long and healthy gratitude, and a short and dis- 
 eased one. 
 
 There is almost no excuse for a Wealthy man whose sons 
 are unhealthy, or undeveloped in manly proportions. The 
 means of protecting children against neglect or mismanagement 
 are easy to the rich. Judicious care can be hired, if the 
 parents are too busy to give it themselves, and seclusion and 
 discipline are more practicable in large houses than in small 
 ones. But Nature has seldom left us at the mercy of first 
 errors. Health. can be redeemed after long trifling and abuse. 
 At five years of age, at ten, twenty, thirty — any time before 
 the rallying forces have entirely given way — we can have 
 health ; and, if the compulsion to reform comes early enough, 
 we can once more put into progress the manly development 
 whicn self-indulgence has arrested. 
 
THE PEIZE EIGHT, 
 
 AND ITS UNDERCURRENT AND BEARINGS 
 
 That the seed of the late prize fight struck into the ground, 
 and is fully and fairly germinating, may be seen, now, at the 
 letting out of any school in the city — the boys squaring off 
 and taking the attitude of Tom Hyer's portrait in the shop 
 windows, as soon as they can swing the satchel over the shoul- 
 der. It would be absurd to pass over as a trifle, an event 
 which could produce such excitement as this pugilistic duel 
 has done. We do not believe that a mere prize fight would 
 have made such a stir except as ministering to a latent appe. 
 tite in the public mind ; nor do we believe that the same event 
 would have attracted one tenth part of the notice, if it had 
 
 22 
 
THE PRIZE EIGHT. 2 3 
 
 happened before the country was impregnated with fight by 
 the Mexican war. As a seed, then, dropped into the ground 
 beneath our feet for which the soil was ready, and of which 
 we are likely to see the product hereafter, let us look a little 
 into the uses and abuses of corporeal emulation and antag- 
 onism. 
 
 America could doubtless afford at some cost of order and 
 staid propriety to purchase an enthusiasm for physical cul- 
 ture and masculine vigor and beauty. It is an excellence so 
 especially neglected in our health-impairing and devoted atten- 
 tion to business, that Americans would be truly described as 
 a hollow-chested, narrow-shouldered, ill developed look- 
 ing race. On the eye of a traveller, returning here from 
 other countries, (from England especially,) the ill-assured gait 
 and flimsy and unmanly figures of our men, produce even a 
 painful impression. A straight back, and well-carried chest 
 and shoulders, single out a gentleman in Broadway, at oncei 
 as a foreigner or a~military man. Beauty of masculine figure 
 and carriage, indeed, seems to be not only unappreciated but 
 hardly recognized ; for in those who have the reputation of 
 being " the handsome men about town," the beauty consists 
 in fine eyes and complexion and good features — such deform- 
 ities as big hips and narrow shoulders, round back and knock- 
 knees being no abatements to the general admiration of a hand- 
 some face. 
 
 A national distaste for manly exercises continuing through 
 three or four generations, must inevitably bring about a 
 national dioindle in physical proportions — of which, we are 
 compelled to say, we see the first stages in the present gen- 
 eral appearance of American young men. We think this 
 
24 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 more of a prospective evil than it is commonly thought to be, 
 for, with our country's star so rapidly on the ascendant, we 
 are soon likely to challenge the whole world's scrutiny and 
 competition ; and contempt for miserable inferiority of appear- 
 ance would essentially qualify the largest assent given to 
 our superiority in trade and cannonading. The intensity of 
 purpose and sleepless alacrity of contrivance and execution, 
 to which we have owed our advantages in commerce and war- 
 fare hitherto, are national qualities which triumphed in spite 
 of physical inferiority; (even the Mexicans beiug a much more 
 able-bodied and healthy race;) but physical culture, without 
 diminishing these triumphs, would affect many future strug- I 
 gles of national competition in other fields, and, at least, (and 
 this every one, with any national pride must feel,) grace our 
 possible and probable national supremacy. 
 
 Boxing is not necessarily the leading shape of physical emu- 
 lation. In Sparta, the most manly of ancient nations, the 
 greatest reproach was the expression, " he can neither swim 
 nor write ;" and, (by-the-way, ladies !) the Spartan women 
 were often competitors at the races in the water, which were 
 the emulous exercises of their warlike husbands and brothers. 
 The wisest philosophers and most renowned statesmen of 
 Athens made the gymnasium the place of daily resort — ming- 
 ling their oratory and their most abstruse discussions, with 
 the contests for bodily pre-eminence which occupied the curi- 
 osity and interest of the whole people. The love of the beau- 
 tiful was considered by the Greeks as an essentially prevalent 
 quality in the greatness of a nation ; and the gymnasium 
 was sustained as the school of this principle —the halls for its 
 different exercises ornamented with statues, and the study of 
 
THE PRIZE FIGHT. 
 
 25 
 
 the finest living forms, when stripped for exercise, being the 
 daily amusement and relaxation of the crowds with which min- 
 gled Plato and Aristotle. Boxing, in these schools of health 
 and beauty, was the kind of contention least practised. The 
 same antagonism expressed itself with the same avidity 
 in hurling, leaping, foot-racing, wrestling, and dancing the 
 Pyrrhic dance. 
 
 The manners of any particular time indicate, of course, what 
 kind of bodily skill should be acquired to insure against insult 
 or humiliating comparison. The " Art of defending oneself 
 against a sword with a pewter pot" is the title of an Essay 
 appended to a work on Fencing, which was published a cen- 
 tury ago, in Flanders — the frequentation of beer-shops, in 
 those days of swords and daggers, making such an expertness 
 necessary. Skill at fighting with a short knife was acquired 
 by young men in Holland in the turbulent middle ages. To 
 handle a quarter-staff was a useful accomplishment to a man 
 in one period of Eoglish history. "Whether the United States 
 at the present day, are so purely intellectual in their standards 
 of conduct and society, that the principles of self preservation 
 and dignity make no call on the bodily strength and conscious 
 power of resistance, is a question, to say the least, worth the 
 asking. 
 
 The details of the late prize fight between Hyer and Sulli- 
 van, are, of course, revolting, and' to such exhibitions, the law 
 should do its best to oppose its authority. It was an excess, 
 however, like that of the occasional running of a horse to death ; 
 which does not diminish the value of the animal culture from 
 which it springs. Even in this fight we have no hesitation in 
 saying we felt an irrepressible interest. We had often seen 
 2 
 
26 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Hyer in the street, and had exceedingly admired the remarkable 
 grace and beauty of his form, and his calm and resolute but 
 perfectly modest expression of countenance and demeanor. 
 Sullivan is a coarse representative of the domineering physical 
 superiority of that class of British which is most added to our 
 people by immigration ; and the encounter seemed, to us, an 
 nnhappy but still unavoidable contest between English brute 
 force encroaching, and American litheness and spirit resisting. 
 The broadsword of Coeur de Lion and the scimitar of Saladin 
 represented something the same antagonism ; and in the com- 
 ing struggle (not far off we venture to say,) in which England 
 and America will enter the ring for the championship of the 
 world, we trust Tom Hyer's will have been a foreshadowing 
 victory. 
 " Lightning knocked down churches, till Franklin moderated 
 its stroke, and Morse put it into harness for useful purposes ; 
 and so, we believe, in any dangerous feeling that can electrify 
 a whole community, there is hidden a principle of Nature that 
 can be turned to account. Certain it is, at least, that all the 
 editorial preaching in the world will not put to sleep the 
 human pugnacity awakened throughout this country by 
 the successes of the Mexican war; and — since there is a 
 national deficiency, physical neglect, which stands ready, like 
 load and harness to be removed by any activity which must 
 have play — it seems to us that, to divert and occupy the prin- 
 ciple, is better than to stigmatize and let it work only in 
 stealthy excesses. Americans, (if we may add another bearing 
 of the matter,) are a desperately indomitable people that would 
 resort to knife and pistol rather than be kept under by the stron- 
 ger arm of foreigners ; and with the constant influx of broad- 
 
 
THE PRIZE EIGHT. 27 
 
 chested Germans and pugilistic English and Irish, the blood- 
 less management of elections and of the many popular com- 
 motions in which national prejudices take sides, must depend 
 on a certain equality of physical power— -foreigners, at present, 
 having greatly the advantage. 
 
THE ARTICLE "YOUTH" AT NEW-YORK. 
 
 
 The comparative value of this perishable commodity, at 
 Paris or at New-York, is a matter of necessary knowledge 
 which we might have expected to see dwelt upon before now. 
 As far as we know, however, this important statistic has been 
 overlooked till within a few days ; and each young man, there, 
 fore, has been obliged to decide, by chance information or 
 instinct, whether to invest his stock of adolescence in Broad- 
 way or the Boulevards. A very amusing and well written 
 article on the subject appears in the Courrier des JEtats- Unis 
 of Thursday last, written by Th. Lacombe, the able contribu- 
 tor to that paper. We would translate it, if we had any manner 
 of leisure — possibly we shall do so when novelties slacken a lit- 
 tle with the summer solstice — but as our class of readers have 
 
 2fi 
 
THE AKTICLE "YOUTH" IN NEW-YORK. 
 
 29 
 
 charming minds of their own, and can understand a matter as 
 well by suggestion as by amplification, we will simply name a 
 point or two of Mons. Lacombe's two column analysis, and 
 so fulfil the chief object of the Home Journal, which is to keep 
 subscribers promptly supplied with the knowledge to live by. 
 
 They have a phrase in Paris — la jeunesse doree — which we 
 have no equivalent expression for, in English, but which means 
 young dandies with plenty of money. Often boys born with 
 a natural banker — (a papa that instinctively furnishes funds) 
 — five at least in Paris, take up the life of la jeunesse doree, 
 supremely happy to have nothing to do but wake, dress, break- 
 fast, and push discoveries as to what can be had for their two 
 superfluities of youth and money. Most of these ruin them- 
 selves, and worse-ify in various ways — some become satiated, 
 and take to virtue for a change — and some, after quite exhaust- 
 ing pleasure, but still holding on to a corner of the pocket, 
 make a marriage of moderate expectations, and taper off to 
 one end of a fishing line in the country. 
 
 What astonishes this French writer is, that there should 
 exist, also, a jeunesse doree at New- York. Here, where work 
 is the only pleasure for which there are any tolerable accommo- 
 dations — where King Public decrees idleness to be a proof 
 of imbecility — where fathers who know not what to do with 
 the crops they have already harvested, still feel it their duty to 
 put their sons into the furrow — here, also, there are dandies in 
 idleness ! They are few. They last but a summer or so — 
 " go into a store" or go to Paris — but, still, every present hour 
 has its specimens, and Broadway, on any sunshiny day, 
 'twixt twelve and three, when workies are in Wall street, 
 shows its dozen or more of perambulating Fifth- Ave- noodles. 
 
30 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 How they contrive to amuse themselves for the twenty-four 
 hours is an unsolved problem to the writer we quote from. 
 
 Mons. Lacombe's description of the New-York dandy is 
 exceedingly graphic. He should have published it in a French 
 " Lorgnette," with a portrait. Like, as dandies are supposed 
 to be, all over the world, there are some indigenous points about 
 the American biped of this family. His two greatest ambi- 
 tions are to show a mustache, and be known among the ladies 
 as a " dangerous man." To attain the latter reputation, he 
 relies on appearances — choosing his opportunity, for instance 
 to seat himself with a certain air by the side of a lady at the 
 Opera, and leaning to her ear with a look of intense sentiment 
 and conscious irresistibleness, to murmur inaudibly to all but 
 herself, " how do you do ?" in the better expressed language 
 of the writer: — " On a vu son attitude penchee et minaudiere, 
 c'est tout ce qiCil luifaut; car d'apres les regies strategiques d'une 
 gattanterie surannee^ une femme compromise est une bataile 
 gagnee." 
 
 The toilette of the New- York dandy is described by Mons. 
 Lacombe as truly irreproachable. His pantaloons are so dili- 
 gently renewed that knee-marks never protuberate. His gloves 
 look like primroses, new-blown with thumb and fingers. His 
 head, smooth from the curling-tongs, sits in his collar like a 
 marigold in a paper holder. The tie of his cravat, so broad and 
 so long, is a marvel of untumbled dexterity. With his hat 
 at the angle agreed upon by his set, booted like the model 
 foot in the show-case of the maker, laced, and with a violet in 
 his button-hole, he walks Broadway like a machine moved by 
 single action, and, if he looks at you at all, does it with 
 
THE ARTICLE "YOUTH" IN NEW- YORK. gj 
 
 an expression of " Vulgarian ! keep on the other side of the 
 walk !" (" Prends le has, du pave manant /") 
 
 At his Club, at the Opera, at balls and in Broadway, the 
 New-York dandy is pacha. He is not, in fact, a dangerous 
 member of society — the " business" fathers and husbands of 
 New-York have cyphered up the fact that " appearances" con- 
 tent him. Some intelligence and certain powers of conversa- 
 tion are necessary in fact, to keep up the illusions that are risky 
 to those who " at least will flirt" — but the intelligence and 
 conversation of the Fifth- Ave-Nooclle are confined to topics 
 soon exhausted. He knows that Cellarius invented the polka, 
 and that Saracco is his prophet — that Derby and Corraz 
 cut a coat authentically — that Mantel, Taylor and Lenoir make 
 beautiful bouquets, and that A&ia Minor and East Broadway 
 are portions of the planet we live on — but other knowledge 
 comes by accident, if at all, and is left to bald-heads and those 
 who are willing to be bored with it. 
 
 Mons. Lecompte sketches the autocrat- domination of the 
 boy-dandies at balls, and philosophizes over the impression 
 among ladies, as to these blank cartridges of the ammunition 
 directed against their hearts — but we have put the reader in 
 train, and the subject will be followed up and well-sifted by 
 tea-table and tete-a-tete. 
 
ON PUBLISHING- A HOUSE. 
 
 Moral of furniture — Servile copying of neighbors in 
 America — Heart-work and affectionate taste done by 
 uphosterers and cabinet-makers english aim in furnish- 
 ING — "Vulgarity of newness — Chairs suited to individuals 
 
 dlsrespectfulness of easy seats taken by slight 
 
 acquaintances preserved nucleus of old furniture 
 
 English look-out for choice articles to express affec- 
 tion — Careful location of articles in a drawing-room, 
 to produce variety and a look of unceremoniousness — 
 The wife's corner — Place for tete-a-tete — Pictures — 
 Value of home associations — Duty of poets and preach- 
 ers as to culture of home attachments, etc. 
 
 As distinctness, in the image of HOME, sweetens the mem- 
 ory of it, and makes its hallowed associations more easy of 
 recall, it may serve the cause of " household affections," as 
 well as of good taste, to inquire what is the farthest reach of 
 civilization in the refinement of furniture. 
 
 32 
 
ON FURNISHING A HOUSE. 
 
 33 
 
 While in England, as every traveller knows, no two draw- 
 ing-rooms look alike, the twenty thousand drawing-rooms of 
 New- York are all stereotyped copies, of one out of three or 
 four styles — the style dependent only on the degree of expen- 
 siveness. The orders, first and final, for furnishing an Ameri- 
 can house, can be given in a morning, and it is usually 
 completed (in the way it is to stand till the proprietor's 
 circumstances change) in the course of a week. The cabinet- 
 maker chooses where the sofas, chairs and tables are to stand. 
 The gilder selects the places for the looking-glasses. The 
 upholsterer arranges the curtains. The piano is set against 
 the wall by the seller of it, and there it stays. The chairs are 
 in sets, and the maker of them decides how many of a kind 
 are wanted. The proprietor of almost any house in New- York, 
 might wake up in thousands of other houses, and not recog- 
 nize for a half hour, that he was not at home. He would sit 
 on just such a sofa in just such a recess — see a piano just so 
 placed — just as many chairs in identically the same positions 
 — and nothing but perhaps a little difference in the figure of 
 the carpet, the absence of a flaw in the ceiling, or the want 
 of the spot on the wall where his head leans in napping after 
 dinner, to assure him of his " alibi." 
 
 In the land where the word " home " was invented, whose 
 language alone possesses it, and whose children are held, by 
 its bond to their family duties and attachments with a strength 
 that is proverbial — in England — the furnishing of a drawing- 
 room is a very different matter. The show-rooms of the very 
 wealthy, of course, we do not include in the picture we are 
 about to draw. These are furnished, however, not by the 
 taste of an upholsterer and cabinet-maker, but after some style 
 2* 
 
34 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 authenticated in a work of art, or after the long submitted 
 and carefully approved design of an educated person whose 
 profession it is. We speak not of these however. We wish 
 to show only how the " homes" of England are furnished — 
 such as are occupied by the classes whose incomes are from 
 two thousand to ten thousand dollars. 
 
 The feature most carefully avoided, in an English house, is 
 any general look of newness — the raw aspect of new furniture 
 being repulsively associated in their minds, with people of low 
 origin, to whom no belongings of a home have descended and 
 who have suddenly become rich.* On the contrary, of course, 
 the most valued things in a house are those old and scarce perish- 
 able articles, made of the solid wood (without the aid of 
 " veneering,") which are mixed up with the more modern fur- 
 niture and bespeak a keeping up of the old family associations. 
 Few respectable persons commence housekeeping without 
 some old furniture which has been carefully laid away for the 
 purpose or presented by relatives ; and the aim, in adding to it, 
 is to find that which most accords with it. Ear from being in 
 a hurry about these new purchases, they prolong the hunt after 
 what they want, as a pleasure which will end too soon. 
 They never dream of going to a vast warehouse of cabinet- 
 making or upholstery, and finding all they want, in a day. 
 The shape and size of the rooms are carefully studied, and one 
 article is found and purchased at a time — its ornament and 
 
 * Maelt, in Ann-street, who buys and stores away all things old, odd, 
 and rococo, would be more visited for objects wherewith to furnish a 
 home, by an Englishman of taste, than all the cabinet warehouses in 
 New- York put together— one-fifth of the price of new articles as his 
 more valuable old articles sometimes are. 
 
ON FURNISHING A HOUSE. 35 
 
 uses studied with care, and with a conscious remembrance that 
 it is to be one of the associations of a centre of affection, and 
 sacredly to increase in value as portion of a home. No two 
 chairs in a refined English drawing-room are designedly alike. 
 They are usually bought, first, separately, and to suit the 
 wants of the different members of the family. Affection is 
 always on the look-out to find some luxury that will contribute 
 especially to the comfort of one or another. There is no chair 
 in a drawing-room that has not some specific association, 
 or is not intended for the humoring of some particular mood, 
 or degree of weariness, or, indeed, the selection of which, by a 
 visitor, does not partially designate his degree of intimacy. 
 "What ceremonious morning-caller, for example, could select 
 a seat like an American rocking-chair, and throw himself back 
 as he conversed, without an air of disrespectful freedom 
 which he would have avoided by taking one in which his pos- 
 ture would be less indolently easy? 
 
 In America we try only to imitate our neighbors in these 
 matters; but, in England, there is an habitual look-out, by the 
 provider for a home, to find articles which will make his draw- 
 ing-room look unlike other people's. Carpets, curtains, and 
 candles are the only things he wants new. The corner in 
 which the wife habitually sits, has her chair exactly suited to 
 her, her work-table, her flower-stand, her book-rack and writ- 
 ing-desk, and there are other corners arranged luxuriously 
 for two, and more trifles and articles of taste, around, than you 
 would get familiar with in a month's visit to the family. The 
 easy-chairs are plenty, varied in shape and capacious. The 
 mirrors are set with reference to the light, or with some artis- 
 tic design to break up the monotony of the room's proportions. 
 
36 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 The rectangular sameness, so universal in American houses, 
 is corrected by interruption of the lines with furniture — and, 
 in fact, the combination and arrangement of the moveable arti- 
 cles in the rooms, are matters of common discussion and a 
 delightful exercise of taste. Pictures are grouped with nice 
 study of light and neighborhood. An air of carelessness is 
 intentionally given to cushions and things which are thrown 
 about, and the effort is to make the pla*ce look unrestrained and 
 habitable, to get rid of all appearance of formal emptiness and 
 scantiness, and to so fill it, with pleasant objects, that the eye 
 will return to it with delight, and that the heart will gladden 
 in it as the peculiar and enchanting scenery of home-affec- 
 tions. 
 
 That our plastic and rapidly maturing country would be 
 bettered by a more careful culture of home associations, all 
 must feel who see the facility with which families break up, 
 the readiness with which housekeepers " sell out and furnish 
 new all over," and the rareness of " old homesteads" — to which 
 the long absent can joyfully return, and of which the memory 
 has kept up hope, self-respect, and affectionate emulation, 
 while away. It is one of those cultures for which poetry and 
 the pulpit might improvingly and patriotically join, for its 
 popularization and promotion. 
 
BAENUM'S PEIZE, 
 
 (OF $200 FOR THE BEST " WELCOME SONG" TO JENNY LIND.) 
 
 The Editor of the '■'■Morning Star" in a gay article, men- 
 tions the two Editors of this paper as leading competitors for 
 the above prize. As one of the two, (the one who does not 
 write this paragraph,) is the acknowledged best song- writer of 
 our country, and as his avowed competition might prevent 
 some one, less assured by success, from trying his modest wing, 
 it is proper, perhaps, to correct the error of our polite neigh- 
 bor, and say definitely that neither Morris nor his partner 
 will be among the competitors. 
 
 But, let us express our respect for this class of composition, 
 while the above disclaimer will serve us for a text. Of all the 
 shapes of the poetic faculty, we think there is none to which 
 the " nascitur non fit" is so applicable. The song-writer, 
 
 37 
 
38 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 more than any other sort of poet, must be a lorn poet. Like 
 the distinction between the sublime and the ridiculous, the 
 difference between the best song and the worst is a wall that 
 only inspired masonry can build, and where pathos ends, anc 
 laughter begins is a line that can be drawn by Nature only. 
 It is not altogether an inspiration of the Fancy either. The 
 head alone may write other poetry, perhaps, but the heart 
 must have been there, when a good song was written. Un- 
 less there was a choke in the throat and a moisture in the eye 
 when a line was first murmured, it will never move the listener 
 when sung. 
 
 Of course there are accidental combinations that help to 
 make a song- writer. Many a man could conceive one, for in- 
 stance, who lacks the musical ear to put it together. A tact 
 at using brevity without impairing the clear outline of the 
 meaning, is necessary also, and so is clear common sense to 
 reject all that has not a truth under it. But there is one 
 quality more, without which good songs could scarce be 
 written, and though we have always recognized it with admi- 
 ration where it existed, we scarce know how to define it. We 
 refer to that separation of progress, by which a man who has 
 risen to think with the few, continues to feel ivith the many. 
 To borrow an illustration from our military partner, the mind 
 is promoted, but the heart is left in the ranks. Many a man 
 of genius both thinks and feels, out of reach of the majority 
 of his fellow creatures. Shelley did so — Shakspeare did not, 
 Burns did not, nor Campbell, nor Moore. It is as creditable 
 and admirable in common life as in song-writing, we may as 
 well add,, however. Keeping the heart akin to the every day 
 sympathies of the mass, is as unusual amid wealth and honors, 
 
BARNUM'S PRIZE. 39 
 
 as amid the cold elevations of the intellect, and equally shows 
 noble affectionateness of nature. 
 
 "We are running into an essay when we intended only to 
 write a paragraph. Let us close with a commendation of the 
 theme proposed by the liberal offerer of the prize. Jenny 
 Lind has led the life of an angel on earth, and. for her purity 
 and munificent charities, she deserves an angel's welcome, 
 while she has the lesser claims of an unrivalled songstress and 
 a woman of indomitable energy and uninterrupted loftinesss of 
 spirit. In the path of life most thickly strewn with temptations, 
 and in the career of fame most thronged with the petty and 
 degrading passions, she has pursued her way with steady and 
 unobtrusive innocence, yet with wonderful highmindedness and 
 strength of purpose. That so pure and great a spirit should 
 come out of the Nazareth of her profession, is, we hope, a pro- 
 phetic advent of a higher standard, of character and estimation, 
 for the gifted in drama and song. 
 
SOCIETY, LATELY. 
 
 "With the coming in of February, there was a large transit 
 of our fashionable planets to the meridian of Washington — 
 an annual submission to a new relative standard which corre- 
 sponds to the annual appeal to another Court of Fashion, 
 made by the trips of Londoners to Paris. It will instruct 
 the reader, by-the-by, to be made fully aware of the propriety 
 of the astronomical similitude we have just used, and of the 
 correspondence betweeu the movements of the angels of 
 up-town, and the " celestial bodies" over our heads. Thus 
 speaks Astronomy of the " trips to "Washington" which take 
 place in the starry firmament : — " Transit is the culmination 
 or passage of a celestial object across the meridian of any 
 place. The determination of the exact time of such transits 
 is one of the most important operations of practical astronomy, 
 
 as it is by this means that the differences of right ascensions 
 
 (40) 
 
SOCIETY, LATELY. 41 
 
 and consequently the relative situations of the fixed stars, and 
 • the motions of the planets and comets in respect of the celestial 
 meridians, become known." The February trip to "Washing- 
 ton, indeed, is of importance enough to have a distinctive 
 name ; and as there is a phrase in astronomy which exactly 
 defines it, let us quote once more from the Dictionary of 
 Science : — " Parallax ; a change of place or of aspect. The 
 term is used in astronomy to denote the finding of the differ- 
 ence between the apparent place of a celestial object and the 
 true place." Now, when belles go to Washington to have 
 new changes rung upon their beauty — distingues to be distin- 
 guished anew — the elites to be again elected — and the wrongly 
 eclipsed or chance-clouded to gain open orbit and brighter 
 sky, we may say (as they say, " ruralizing up the river") 
 parallax-ing at Washington. It is a phrase that has been 
 even more widely wanted, in fact — for what is there to define 
 the change of self- valuation and position with which a village- 
 belle comes back after parallax-ing in the city — an unappreci- 
 ated youth after parallax-ing away from home — a poet in man- 
 uscript after parallax-ing in print. We respectfully propose 
 the word for vulgar adoption. 
 
 Going in to buy a pair of gloves yesterday, at Stewart's, 
 we learned that there had been more " make ups" for Wash- 
 ington this winter than ever before, and that the outlay upon 
 laces, etc., had been far beyond all precedent. We learned from 
 M. de Trobriand's article on " New-York Balls" also, that 
 in jewels, this year for the first time, American ladies rival the 
 sumptuousness of the titled dames of Europe, and this we 
 hear abundantly confirmed by the charming prodigals them- 
 selves. There is one difference, however, between the Ameri- 
 
42 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 can and European wear of costly jewels, which the courteous 
 Baron very well knew, though he probably feared making 
 some of bis friends out of love with their necklaces by men- 
 tioning it : — costly jewels are the livery of dowagers. Partly 
 because youth, beauty and wealth seldom come together — 
 partly because it is those who have lived longest who inherit 
 and accumulate most — partly because it is good taste for 
 beauty to be " unadorned" — and partly because 'great costli- 
 ness, except when excusably put on to redeem ugliness, is an 
 offensive assumption of superiority over those whom chance 
 has less gifted — for these combined reasons, it is, doubtless, 
 that rich jewels in Europe, are seldom worn by the young, 
 and aways convey an association of age. From a diamond neck- 
 lace a man naturally looks up to find rouge and a " false front 1 ' 
 — from a priceless bracelet to a dry elbow and non-undulating 
 proportions. A young girl very expensively jewelled, would 
 in London or Paris we venture to say, be universally taken, 
 at first sight, for a vulgar heiress advertising what she expects 
 from " the other party." A rose' or a japonica in her hair 
 would " do more for her market," even in foreign fashion's 
 high bazaar of matrimony, than one of the five thousand dol- 
 lar bijou, which are as common in New-York, now, as pond- 
 lilies at a village ball. How it is by the standards of poetry, 
 righteousness and " good investment," we leave to easy 
 inference. 
 
 In the way of parties, there have been efforts to escape from 
 the monotony of what M. de Trobriand describes as twenty- 
 five-feet-front-and-take-off-your-things-in-the-third-story balls, 
 and at one house, in particular, although " in a block," the 
 effect was very Parisian. The ordinary capacity of the lower 
 
SOCIETY, LATELY. 43 
 
 story, probably was three large rooms ; but three luxurious bou- 
 doirs were added to these — two of them roofed, lined and otto- 
 maned with fluted pink and white muslin, and the three bril- 
 liantly lighted and capable of accommodating sixty or eighty 
 causeurs — and the ensemble was a wilderness of wax candles 
 extending through six rooms en suite. Probably a verandah 
 and a spacious pantry were enlisted, but the pure tenting of 
 muslin, the un-expostulating flowers, the costly statuary in the 
 corners, and the atmosphere of violets throughout, gave it the 
 look and air of a palace that had always been there. Taking 
 the eye's word for it alone , you might have thought yourself 
 in the Faubourg St. Germain, though we doubt whether, even in 
 that foie gras of the world, the japonicas and other petits Hens 
 would have been so many and costly. 
 
 There have been two or three masquerade balls, one of 
 which, given by a distinguished French family, is said to have 
 been as brilliant and gay as only the French can make this class 
 of entertainment. A droll gentleman friend of ours, who went 
 as a " yaller-girl," gave us a grave account of sending for a 
 French dress-maker, and of the difficulties and embarrassments 
 she found in measuring and fitting him into his feminine dress, 
 and we have " boned and potted," for future description in 
 The Home Journal, this history of male experience in woman- 
 linesses. 
 
 Perhaps the most successful departure from routine, in the 
 gayeties of the season, however, was the " tableaux 11 party given 
 by the leader of the artistic and intellectual society of the city, 
 Miss Lynch. With the taste - and knowledge of effect, brought 
 to her aid by the artists who frequent her agreeable house, their 
 
44 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 own " bearded" personations and those of three or four singu- 
 larly beautiful women, the effects were truly admirable. 
 
 The dancing parties, receptions, etc., etc., go on as usual — 
 abating a little, of course with the February lull, and (whether 
 it is owing to the want of sleighing, by which frolic finds out- 
 door vent, or owing to the thirst bred by the exhausting char- 
 acter of the new dances, we do not know, but) we have 
 
 received sundry communications complaining of the young 
 men's drinking too freely at these highly juvenescent parties. 
 It is enough, perhaps, thus to name it. 
 
WHAT IS UPON US. 
 
 Paris coming over — The Westwardizing of the world's 
 centre — The Jenny Lind epoch of artistic Migration 
 — Franconi's troop — Circus-riders " in society" — Cerito 
 — Camille Leroux — Fashionable Amphitheatre in 
 Broadway — Coming of a new class of travellers and 
 Idlers to New- York — Necessary Changes in Luxuries 
 and Accommodations — Probable French Theatre, and 
 formation of English and French society, etc., etc. 
 
 Paris has been, for a century or two, the yolk of the world's 
 egg of pleasure — fun, everywhere else, in comparison, very 
 albuminous and outsidy — but New- York hereafter, may as 
 well be spelt New-Yo^k, for Paris, or what makes Paris the 
 world's golden centre, is positively coming here ! The truth is 
 that the world is not a globe, as is erroneously represented, 
 but an amphitheatre whose civilized radii have an irresistible 
 declivity toward one centre — the 'point where money is spent 
 most freely for pleasure. Paris has been that point, but 
 Paris has grown economical. It is recognized, at this moment, 
 that, in New- York, pockets are buttoned more loosely than at 
 Paris — the declivity is this way — and the beginnings to slide 
 
 45 
 
4G THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 down are signal and instructive. Jenny Lind, the world's first 
 singer ; beautiful Cerito, the world's first dancer ; St. Leon, 
 her husband, a great violinist and dancer ; Catherine Hayes, 
 the Queen of English Opera ; Simms Reeves, whom Jenny 
 Lind calls the greatest living tenor, and with these two last, 
 a whole English opera company — these and (more wonderful 
 still) Franconi's troop — are to come over between this and the 
 next season. Our friend of the " Albion" who gives us this 
 news, adds that Tattersall's, in Broadway, is to be the site of 
 a new and magnificent circus, and that four competitors are 
 in the field to build a Concert-room for Jenny Lind — of pro- 
 portions that will pay. 
 
 One word as to Eranconi's — which will be, to New-York, 
 mostly a " new institution." To think of it as a Circus is to 
 get no idea of it. Eranconi's is an admiring recognition of 
 bodily accomplishment by refined society. Perhaps the reader 
 may remember a sketch of Camille Leroux the heroine of Eran- 
 coni's, which we sent from Paris when last abroad. This 
 beautiful girl is a fine scholar, an accomplished artist with her 
 pencil, a sort of female Crichton — supporting her father's 
 family by her wonderful feats of horse(wo)manship while she 
 might grace any circles of society. The four or five gentlemen 
 who rode in the ring with this lady, were dressed in military 
 undress uniform, and had very much the air of princes who 
 were honoring a subject public with an admission to their 
 royal exercises. We had been taken to Franconi's by a lady 
 of rank whom we had chanced to know in England, and it was 
 to the confusion of previous standards that we saw one of 
 these riders approach, (after showing his disregard of paper 
 obstacles-on horseback,) and with a nonchalant twirl of his 
 
WHAT IS UPON US. 47 
 
 whip, make the agreeable, between the acts, to the Lady in 
 question. Sseing the dandies of the audience, meantime, 
 paying very deferential homage to the fair Camille, and the 
 other riders finding acquaintances among the comme il faut 
 bonnets, we were led to make inquiries ; and found there was 
 what was defined as " the more liberal portion of society," to 
 which Nature's ticket of anything-to-admire was, at present a 
 gentleman's passport. Pranconi's, in fact, was a good society 
 matinee. We had driven there at three in the afternoon, and 
 half the finest equipages of Paris were outside the door, and, 
 the circus being well out in the Champs-Elysees, few were 
 there who could not afford to come in vehicles. The exclu- 
 sives, who-were present, crowded down to the benches closest 
 to the ring, and the equestrians leaned from the saddle between 
 their emulous achievements, and received applauses from the 
 ladies " by process verbal." We were in Paris but three days, 
 we should perhaps explain, and the new phase of manners 
 we describe was spoken of as a fashionable epidemic ; but 
 whether it became chronic, or passed off like other influenzas, 
 we should like, 11010, to know. Franconi's is coming over — 
 and to what grade of society it is to be individually an advent, 
 is a question about which the two sides of the Harlem Rail- 
 road may as well be occupying their antagonistic leisure. 
 
 But, generally, as to the imminent Parisification of New- 
 York : — There is a floating population of seekers of the world's 
 pleasantest place, who, as it will appear to every connoisseur 
 of European capitals, are very sure to follow the sweetest 
 voices, most bewildering legs, best players, boldest riders, etc. 
 These independent idlers, in turn, are sure to be followed by 
 the best cooks, the prettiest glove-fitters, the most inspired mil- 
 
48 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 liners, the best portrait painters, the neatest equipages, the 
 various lions as they qualify and need to roar, and the many 
 ministers to taste and luxury who follow the garden of refine- 
 ment on its " Westward course" — for whom Paris has been 
 what Bagdad was, and for whom New- York is to be what 
 Paris is. The true field of enterprize, we should say, at this 
 moment, is to find out what Paris has which New- York wants 
 — various kinds of shops, for instance large Cafes' and Restau- 
 rateurs, luxurious lodging-houses, a good French Theatre, a 
 sumptuous Opera-house with private boxes, and a public plea- 
 sure-drive. These are necessities which will soon be supplied 
 to this most profuse of capitals, and, when our Western Bag- 
 dad-and-Paris shall be comfortable and luxurious for stran- 
 gers, (as it is far enough from being at the present moment,) 
 the different Embassies will find it worth their while to form 
 each a nucleus of recognition at this capital — thus giving us an 
 English society and a French society, the intersection of 
 whose circles with those of our New- York fashion and intelli- 
 gence will supply counterbalances, and give the cosmopolite 
 and un-provincial tone to New- York which makes Paris 
 enchanting. Will not our friend De Trobriand give us, in 
 his agreeable Revue, a sketch of what New- York most wants, 
 to expedite its overtaking of Paris in luxurious habitableness. 
 
UPPERMOST GOSSIP 
 
 OCIETY BREAKERS AHEAD 
 
 The present " talk," in England, of establishing ranks of 
 nobility in Canada, with a Vice-Royal Court at Montreal, over 
 which shall reign a member of the Royal family — the recent 
 attempt* to exclude, from the privileges of a London Club, 
 such American officers as had soiled their epaulettes by navi- 
 gating cargoes of industry to the "World's Fair — and the issue, 
 within the last few days, of an American Hand book op 
 Heraldry, with the crests, pedigrees and arms of some of 
 " our first families," and directions for crests, mottoes and 
 
 * This motion was reconsidered, as we find by the following para- 
 graph : — 
 
 " Second Thoughts aiie Best. — The members of the Senior United 
 Service Club have decided that all field officers, captains and command- 
 ers, in the service of America or other foreign states, who may come to 
 England on duty, or properly accredited to their own minister and am- 
 bassador, shall be admitted honorary members of the club and entitled 
 to all its privileges during their stay in England." 
 
 3 (49) 
 
50 THE EAG-BAG. 
 
 liveries — are three coincident symptoms which are among the 
 news of the last fortnight, and which it is not visionary, there- 
 fore, perhaps to speak of in the same paragraph. The " club" 
 effort, to make Americans understand that trade is the spoil- 
 ing of a gentleman, we spoke of in the last number of our pa- 
 per. Let us say an explanatory word or so of the other two 
 forecast shadows ; and, first, as to the preparations for en- 
 throning Victoria's eldest boy on this side of the water : — 
 
 The plan to " extend the broad belt of England in the tem- 
 perate zone round the world," by a railroad through the Can- 
 adas to the Pacific, is discussed at great length, in an expen- 
 sive work of five hundred pages, with costly maps and illus- 
 trations, recently published in London. It is called " Britain 
 Eedeemed and Canada Preserved," and has been got up with 
 too much labor, outlay and ability, not to have the Govern- 
 ment pocket for its paymaster, and a G-overnment project for 
 its aim. A few sentences from the book will explain its cur- 
 rent of argument : — 
 
 " We will now proceed to show the feasibility of a line of 
 railway across the Canadas, joining the Atlantic and Pacific 
 oceans ; the necessity of this, to retain the most important of 
 our colonies, and to keep pace with the vast designs of the 
 United States ; the possibility of a perfect incorporation of 
 Canada with Great Britain, under the same laws, government, 
 privileges, and with a fair amount of representation, as an im- 
 portant integral part of this kingdom ; thus to preserve her, as 
 with a less cramped and fatal policy we might still have pre- 
 served the fealty and affections of the United States. 
 
 " < Thus to extend the broad belt of England in the temper- 
 ate zone around the world. All this is to be done, for we have 
 
UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 5^ 
 
 the means oefore us ; the time has now arrived ; the necessity is 
 urgent.' l China is our centre of attraction ; it is so to Russia ; 
 it is so to America ; but toe alone have yet the game of the 
 world in our hands'' 
 
 1 Our grandest schemes' (at home) l are defunct and still- 
 born railways, from anywhere to nowhere.' ' No trifling mea- 
 sure will do there,' (in Canada.) ' Lose her, and you lose the 
 world. By a generous and extended policy you can alone re- 
 tain her.' ' People of England, awake P ' You possess every- 
 thing. You act as if you had nothing.' ' Again we say, Peo- 
 ple of England, awake / Preserve the Canadas as the means 
 of salvation.' " 
 
 " Look at the map and see if we are not stupidly obtuse in 
 not securing- the incalculable benefits which the opportunity 
 now offers to Great Britain ; and judge if it were not suicidal 
 criminality, should we hesitate any longer to profit by this Cal- 
 ifornia mania, and to assume the immediate lead and direction 
 of the South Sea movement, thereby to attract those congre- 
 gating interests to a British centre ?" 
 
 " At the bare thought of so rapid and direct a channel be- 
 twixt Europe and Asia, what pictures of certain prosperity 
 and grandeur, enterprise and activity, crowd upon the mind, 
 with a prospect of a wilderness peopled — a remote ocean con- 
 verted to an immediate and familiar high road— and regions 
 teeming with countless myriads, hitherto only reached by te- 
 dious circumnavigation of the globe, brought to intimate con- 
 nection, as it were, at our very door : pictures we cannot con- 
 template without exclaiming, England, arouse ! Ministers^ 
 awake /" 
 
52 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 The National Intelligencer, in which we find the first notice 
 of this work, says : — 
 
 " Frequent reference is made to Mr. Whitney's plan for the 
 United States, which seems to have been the prompter of this 
 movement in Great Britain. It is proposed to incorporate 
 Canada with the domestic empire, to be a part of it as much 
 as Wales, Scotland and Ireland, to be represented in Parlia- 
 ment and in the nobility. Canada is to have the same rank 
 and the same privileges as England, and a member of the royal 
 family is to be at the head of the Canadian branch of the 
 Government. 
 
 " Twenty thousand convicts are to be put at once upon the 
 road to work it ; the paupers of England are to be taken there 
 and made useful. It is estimated that five millions of people 
 can be spared from England, Scotland and Ireland, for the 
 reciprocal benefit of all parties, to be planted along the line of 
 this road, and that in this way, and in a short time, England 
 may be entirely relieved of her pauperism, which now costs 
 more than six millions sterling a year in parish rates, and thir- 
 ty to forty millions in all forms of public and private charity. 
 The estimates for the cost of the road are an average of five 
 thousand pounds per mile, being fourteen million pounds for 
 the whole work, and less than half the present annual cost of 
 pauperism at home, the whole or chief part of which burden it 
 is expected the execution of this plan will remove. This being 
 so, as a system of public economy, it is beyond all example in 
 the history of the world. It is averred that they have just 
 that to spare of British population at home, which is wanted 
 as material to build this road, and to constitute this extended 
 
UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 53 
 
 line of settlement to the Pacific as a new branch of the empire, 
 which, as is claimed, will regenerate Great Britain, cure all 
 her maladies, relieve her of her burdens, and give her the 
 command of the commerce of the world. It is a remarkable 
 fact that the distance between England and China, by this 
 contemplated railroad through Canada, is fifteen hundred 
 miles shorter than the nearest route across the United States. 
 It remains to be seen whether Great Britain or the United 
 States will be first in this field, and which will win this great 
 prize." 
 
 Now, who does not see (with the rate at which things move, 
 now-a-days) that " Lordships" and " Ladyships" may be as 
 close upon us as grand- children and gray hairs ? "With what 
 policy our Government has driven Whitney abroad with his 
 project, and will let England build this highway of power, 
 (unless to take it from her when it is done,) we do not clearly 
 see, and have no idea of discussing. "We only (in our small 
 way of suggesting gossip for the parlor) call attention to the 
 waring advent of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, 
 and begin to wonder at the effect, on New- York, of a Throne 
 and Court, whose "Windsor will be at Niagara ! "Why, we 
 may have a string of Parks, Manors and Castles along the 
 other side of the St. Lawrence, and Honorable Misses looking 
 across at the Vermont boys, before we know of it ! The first 
 Peer, of course, will be the man who best fought the Yankees 
 — the Earl of McNab — and, by way of enlisting allies in 
 " The States," they will make a few " colored" Knights and 
 Baronets, and invite Dumas, the mulatto novellist, to natural- 
 ize and accept title and office at the Court of Canada. Our 
 young ladies, in their summer-trips, will find the young Mar- 
 
54 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 quises and Viscounts sprinkled here and there, and liable to 
 be fallen in with, in every steamboat and rail-car. Marriages 
 will take place, and Yankee mammas will be heard talking of 
 "my daughter, Lady Toronto," or "my daughter, the 
 Countess of Thousand Isles." Society in New- York and Bos- 
 ton will be arranging etiquettes for reception of the Northern 
 Nobility, and deciding whether the daughters of wholesale 
 and retail grocers should be equally presentable at the Court of 
 Montreal. Descent of American families from foreign stock 
 will of course be eagerly looked up — (though probably it will 
 be a generally conceded etiquette that no escutcheon shall be 
 affected by the causes of emigration.) And this brings us, 
 (abruptly, perhaps, but we must leave these speculations to 
 the ten thousand beloved tea-kettles whose vapor we assist to 
 enliven) — this brings us to the New-York " Hand-book of 
 Heraldry," which, of the forementioned changes and comings* 
 about, is certainly a most apt and significant precursor ! 
 
 Step into "Wiley's and see this volume ! It is the most 
 equisite lfttle bijou of ornamental book-making that has ever 
 been produced in America. The author, Gwilt Mapleson, is 
 a finished artist in this line, and his illuminated pictures of the 
 " Arms of Livingston," and crests of twenty or thirty other 
 American families, are brilliant to see — in a Eepublic ! Even 
 an Editor— one of our poor trade — has his crest emblazoned 
 in this gay book — Win. T. Porter, three bells, two on sable 
 and one on white ; also, one of our astists, W. T. Mount, a 
 lion rampant on a mountain-top ; one of our poetesses's hus- 
 band, D. Embury, a very complicated crest, which we are not 
 scholar enough to explain ; Christie, (of the Minstrels, we pre- 
 sume,) with three hats on a ground of white one of our best 
 
UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 55 
 
 doctors, Sidney Doane, a rampant unicorn ] and most brilliantly- 
 colored cresis of other names familiar to us, Lynch and 
 McVickar, Grimm, Hone, Haggerty, Schermerhorn, Ward, 
 Allen, Grymes, Taylor and Gray. These combined emblazon- 
 ings form most brilliant pages of bright colors, and may- 
 awaken a thirst for a study of heraldry as a gay bouquet stirs 
 a sigh for more knowledge of horticulture. " Study" it will 
 require, by the way — for who can understand, at first sight, 
 such passages as these, which we extract at random from the 
 New- York Hand-Book of Heraldry 
 
 :< Single ladies and widows wear their arms in a lozenge, 
 " the former having the paternal coat — with quarterings, if 
 " there be any • a wido\^ joins her arms with those of her 
 u late husband." 
 
 " In plate III., fig. 8, will be found a maiden's lozenge ; in 
 " the same plate, fig. II., that of a widow who has married a 
 " cousin on the father's side ; consequently the arms impaled 
 " on the sinister are the same as those on the dextee side." 
 
 " The lozenge of a widow who is an heiress, may be found 
 "in plate I., fig. 5." 
 
 " A married woman, during her husband's lifetime, may 
 " use, on her own seal, a shield with the arms of her husband's 
 ') family and her own engraved on it— but no crest." 
 
 " In plate I., fig. 3, I have drawn the arms of a bachelor, 
 " tricked, as is the heraldic term, with helmet, mantlings, crest 
 " and motto." 
 
 " In the same plate, fig. 1, may be seen the arms of a mar- 
 " ried man, impaling those of his wife, party per pale, baron 
 " and femme." 
 
56 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 a If her son married an heiress, by placing a shield of pre- 
 sence on these quarterings, the descendants of that marriage 
 " would be entitled to wear the arms of their mother's and 
 " grandmother's family." 
 
 " In fig. 5 of the same plate, is represented a widow's lozenge 
 « — the widow being an heiress." 
 
 Now, that learning like this should be published in a hand- 
 look — ( a catechism or primer of pedigree-diness, as it were) — 
 here in the very heart of the republic looks, (in the way of 
 business at least) like a belief on the part of the publisher 
 that the Americans are wanting to know the look of a ticket 
 to aristocracy. It was a sagacious guess, we understand for 
 the book " poes like hot cakes" — and the next thing, of 
 course, will be the establishment of a Herald's college in New 
 York, where any Yankee may apply to know whereabouts, 
 in the light or dark ages, lived anybody of his name, and 
 under what sign he did his loving and fighting. So enters 
 the science of Heraldry into our midst ! — though, by the way, 
 the origin of heraldry, as given in the old authors, reads very 
 much as if we had it at our fingers' ends already, under the 
 different name of puffing. Says a high authority : — 
 
 " The word Mason, which denotes the science of heraldry, 
 " had its origin in the German word blasen, to blow the horn ; 
 " for whenever a new knight appeared in the lists, the herald 
 " had to sound the trumpet ; and because this was performed 
 " by the herald, this knowledge was called heraldry." 
 
 It seems to us rather a natural suggestion than otherwise, 
 that Editor and herald should either be one and the same 
 
 
UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 57 
 
 trade, or be practised in partnership ; for, the same old author 
 says : — " The practical functions of the herald consist in bla- 
 " zoning, historifying, passing judgment on, and marshalling 
 " coats of arms" — a duty that would scarce be done so satis- 
 factorily, in any other way, as in the columns of a newspaper, 
 and which could be paid for at the present established price 
 for a " first-rate notice." "We claim a patent for the idea. 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 
 
 IN A LETTER TO THE LADY SUBSCRIBER IN THE 
 COUNTRY. 
 
 Dear Madam : — Not that we feel too slightly acquainted 
 with you to have said " My dear Miss," if that had been 
 more appropriate — for, the terms of our paper being " pay- 
 ments invariably in advance," the honor of your personal 
 acquaintance, of course, comes to us without being preceded 
 by " value received" in the shape of an introduction ; but the 
 European usage of expressing great deference, even to the 
 unmarried, by addressing them as " Madam," has in it a con- 
 venience as well as an elegant propriety. It enables one to 
 cover the chance of an incorrectness, besides expressing more 
 respect, and aiding Baron de Trobriand in his chivalric cru- 
 sade for equalizing the attentions to married and single ladies. 
 Indeed — (a little out of place, perhaps, as so grave a matter 
 may be, in a prelude to a letter about trifles) — we should like 
 to propose, to the Southern, Western and Northern etiquette 
 
 of our country, that a lady should never be recognized as a 
 
 58 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 59 
 
 miss, except upon great intimacy. To address all ladies per- 
 sonally as " Madam," and to commence all ordinary notes and 
 letters to ladies, married or single, with the respectfulness of 
 " Dear Madam," would (besides the above-named advantages) 
 remove a frequent occasion of blunder, and help weed from 
 polite phraseology the monosyllable " Miss," which is unmusi- 
 cally diminutive, and has been used both as a term of 
 reproach* and of reproof, f 
 
 Well, then, dear Madam, to descend from these for- 
 malities, you would like to know what there is talked of 
 in town besides the Mississipi-ment of the public mind by 
 the great Daniel — (he and that river being the only streams 
 that channel the continent from end to end with one 
 headway of Union) besides the coming of Jenny Lind, and the 
 actual presence of the whale, which, till the Nightingale shall 
 arrive, holds the throne of Barnum — besides murder-trials and 
 divorce-cases — besides snow-storms that have arrived belated, 
 and the pea-green bonnets that have anticipated the Spring — 
 besides plays — besides politics, pictures," poetry and panoramas. 
 If there be a trifle or so, that has not "got into the papers," 
 you would like it, offhand — would you not? 
 
 Let us see : — 
 
 * Evelyn says, in his Diary : — 
 
 " In this play acted the faire and famous comedian called Roxalana> 
 " from the part she performed ; and I think it was the last time, she 
 " being taken to be the Earl of Oxford's miss (as at this time they began 
 "to call light women.") 
 
 / 
 
 t In Congreve's play of " Love for Love," we read : 
 
 " Miss P. — Mother, Mother, Mother, look you here ! 
 
 Mrs. Foresight.— Tie, Miss, how you bawl !" 
 
60 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Perhaps you have not heard, in the country, of the emblem 
 of assumed responsibilities, which is the newest ornament 
 imported from Paris for ladies' wear. Its cost varies from 
 five dollars to five hundred, and it is inappropriate except upon 
 one who, in some manner, has charge of arrangements for 
 others' comfort. It consists of a curiously enamelled clasp, 
 made to slip with a hook into the girdle, and bearing from 
 one to twenty short chains, upon the ends of which are worn 
 (properly) the accoutrements of householdry — such as keys, 
 pencil, silver knife, scissors, and the seal whereon is graven the 
 family crest. This, which jingles with low music as a lady 
 walks, is called a chatelaine, or tenure of authority ; and, in 
 ancient times, was worn always and only by the mistress of 
 hall or castle. The first wearer of one in New- York, was The 
 Lady Emmeline Stuart "Wortley, daughter of the Duke of 
 Rutland, who was here last year, and whose chatelaine was 
 of most complex and elaborate richness, reaching nearly to 
 the floor, and murmuring, as she entered the room like a pre- 
 sence making itself heard. With her Ladyship's tall figure 
 and dignified mien, and the remembrance of Belvoir Castle 
 in which she was cradled, there was a certain imposing appro- 
 priateness about this. The more common and fashionable 
 chatelaine, however, such as is worn by young wives and 
 young ladies in authority in New- York — is a smaller and more 
 costly bunch of trinkets, worn with a short clasp at the waist, 
 and with hooks open for any new additions which may suggest 
 themselves to friends generous in jewelry. To approach, lean 
 over to a lady's girdle, beg leave to examine her chatelaine, 
 and be occupied for some time in admiring its enamelled nov- 
 elties, is the newest elegance of fashionable manners; and, as 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 61 
 
 it affords a tete-a-tete of excusable isolation, and makes it 
 necessary that the cadences of the voice should be subdued 
 in proportion to the closer proximity of the inclining head, the 
 fashion, we think, is likely to be considered a drawing-room 
 amelioration, and pass into perpetuity, like fans. In looking 
 up the etymology of the word, by-the-way, we find a couplet 
 of Hudibras which would seem to hint that there may be a 
 charm, beyond utility, in the look of an ornament which bears 
 the keys to comforts and valuables : — 
 
 " Cupid in all his amorous battles, 
 
 No 'vantage finds in goods and chattels," 
 
 says Hudibras, and a look, of other possessions than beauty, 
 and of matters locked up at home, is the unquestionable 
 expression of a well garnished chatelaine. 
 
 The expected visit of the English Minister to New- York 
 is making a preparatory stir among the dinner-givers. 
 Of the two kinds of well-bred Englishmen — the high-shirt-col- 
 lared dignity, un-aired by travel, and the repose of cosmopo- 
 lite elegance and ease — we have had, for so many years, only 
 official specimens of the former, that Sir Henry Bulwer, who 
 is a fine model of the latter, is looked for with great interest 
 and pleasure. Among the brilliant men who formed the cir- 
 cle of habitues, at Lady Blessington's, some ten or twelve 
 years ago, this brother of the novelist, (as we recorded at the 
 time, in " Pencillings by the Way") was an admired favorite 
 of all, and Her Ladyship, as good a judge of men as ever 
 lived, never lost an opportunity of expressing her cordial liking 
 for him. His conversation was listened to by the frequenters 
 of that charming house, with unvarying deference. Ill health 
 
62 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 and a trying career have made their mark upon Sir Henry, 
 who was, in dress and looks, at the time we speak of, a singu- 
 larly complete type of his brother's character of Pelham. He 
 is now evidently thoughtless of his appearance, and occupying 
 his mind only with a statesman's observation of things around 
 him ; but his facility of address, and that high-breeding which 
 is brought to complete and delightful naturalness, make him 
 as fascinating a companion as ever, and well worthy of the 
 unusual attention with which our first men are preparing to 
 receive him. 
 
 Conversation is very much enlivened among the young ladies 
 by the gallant protest of the " Revue du Nouveau Monde" 
 against the compulsory withdrawal of young married women 
 from society and attention which is imposed by American 
 manners. The natural instinct, of course, is against the 
 re-podding of the once-shelled pea; and, at first glance, all ladies, 
 married and single, see an injustice in prisoning in the beauty 
 who has once " come out." There are various second 
 thoughts and counter influences, however. All young wives 
 are not beautiful enough to command attention, even if they 
 were at liberty to receive it ; and for these the connubial taboo 
 covers a course of struggle against mortification. Husbands 
 are against the new light, for, were wives at liberty to play 
 the belle, they, to whose business-worn brains balls now give 
 no anxiety, would be compelled to weed out their powers of 
 pleasing, which cares have overgrown, and once more flower 
 into beaux. Then all the old people, (a formidable minority !) 
 go for an early concentration upon the domestic virtues, and 
 see all sorts of trouble in the keeping open of human appreci- 
 ation after marriage. The accomplished Frenchman has done 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 63 
 
 a good thing, doubtless, in bringing the subject " before the 
 people." It will be discussed till it come to its right level, 
 and, whether his notions are altogether received or not, he 
 will be cherished as the champion of young wives — 
 at least by every one pretty enough to profit by his deliv- 
 erance. 
 
 What is looked at with more eager curiosity than anything 
 else just now, is unquestionably Mrs. Fanny Kemble, in her 
 various apparitions in Broadway. So essentially dramatic is 
 she, in all her phases — whether in riding-hat, driving home 
 after dismounting from the saddle in the suburbs, or riding 
 bare-headed to her morning reading — that the common hack- 
 ney coach of which she is the remarkable contents, carries all 
 heads around with its progress, as a breeze turns the leaves in 
 an avenue. In passing the Irving house in an omnibus, one 
 rainy day last week, we noticed the heads of Stewart's clerks 
 piled up at the vast glass windows, and eagerly watching a 
 carriage that was just driving away from that caravanserai of 
 fashion. Groups had collected opposite the hotel, and people 
 on all sides were stopping and gazing after the one object of 
 interest. Mrs. Kemble had been reading Eomeo and Juliet that 
 morning, and she had stopped at Stewart's on her way down 
 to Delmonico's. She sat leaning indolently back in her car- 
 riage, unbonnetted and carelessly shawled, but with an expres- 
 sion in her remarkable face which was a glow from Shaks- 
 peare — more soft and sad, it struck us, than we had believed 
 her strong mouth and compressed brows were any way capa- 
 ble of seeming. Seen thus suddenly, and in contrast with 
 umbrellas and omnibus physiognomies, it impressed us 
 certainly as a face, at the moment, of remarkable beauty. 
 
a . THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 64 
 
 Mrs. Kemble is sitting for her portrait to George Flagg, an 
 artist brim-full of genius, and, when the picture is done, of 
 that, and some others of his doing, we shall paragraph the 
 quality in the Home Journal. 
 
 A morning ball — what is called a matinee dansante — given 
 at one of the most charming houses in town, on Saturday last, 
 delighted the gay world with a sensible change from later 
 vigils of gayety —home at five in the afternoon, instead of five 
 in the morning. What may not be hoped, in the way of re- 
 form, after this ? 
 
 There is some stir in the literary circles to know what will 
 be the republican counterpart to Queen Victoria's new order 
 of chivalry — the " Order of Minerva" — by which men of gen- 
 ius are to be ennobled. Of course, England will not be left 
 alone in an honoring recognition of genius, and, if we cannot 
 have poet-noblemen in our country, we shall find some way to 
 keep peace with the progress of the age by giving authors a 
 lift. Perhaps it would be a comparatively equal advance in 
 civilization, on this side the water, to let poets and artists rank 
 with stock-brokers and consignees. 
 
 And with thus much of gossip, that we should probably 
 have given you over a cup of tea, dear Madam, had our feet 
 known the way to you as well as our pen, let us say, for ano- 
 ther week, Adieu. Yours, 
 
 Very punctually and untiringly. 
 
THE CENTEAL PLANE. 
 
 By certain unmistakeable signs — the penmanship, the mode 
 of expression, the effort not to betray too much elegance, and 
 the confident unceremoniousness withal — a certain letter un- 
 der our hand comes from one of our fashionable readers. "We 
 publish it because its main purpose is good, and its opinions 
 are evidently shaped by a habit of rejecting the prejudices of 
 " the rage" and thinking independently — but the introduction 
 to the letter shows a looseness of recognition, as to cause and 
 effect in the influence of our paper, which, if possible to so 
 shrewd a mind as our correspondent's, must be too facile and 
 general an error to go farther uncorrected. A word, then, as 
 to the tribunal to which the Home Journal addressed its plea 
 (allowed by this writer to be a successful plea) for popularity. 
 
 The largest slice of an apple, equi-distant from top and bot- 
 tom, is a segment which mathematicians denominate the cen- 
 
 (65) 
 
66 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 tral plane. In the lesser matters of this world — those which 
 are most dependent on taste and most liable to extremes — this 
 region, of the common sphere of opinions, is the broadest, 
 most liberal, and nearest the central seed of truth. It forms 
 the level, up to which vulgarity is to be raised, and down to 
 which superfinery and pretension should be brought. The 
 central plane, in short, is the level of common sense. 
 
 Now, while the more abstract and bygone matters which 
 Time infallibly measures, are subjected to the smallest of tri- 
 bunals, — (as it is the narrowest part of an hour-glass which 
 tests the fineness of its sand) — it is by the broadest and least 
 exclusive tribunal of this central plane that matters of the pre- 
 sent moment and of temporary importance are alone tried. It 
 will be understood, of course, that this tribunal is not " The 
 Majority." There is more bulk, both above and below, than 
 in the slice through the middle of the apple. The vulgar out- 
 number the possessors of common sense. So do the aspiring 
 and pretentious. The " central plane" may, in fact, better be 
 defined as " The Pew," whom we have, once before, tried to 
 fence in, as the parish of the Home Journal's intended minis- 
 tration. 
 
 Our correspondent wonders that, considering our " foppe- 
 ries," etc., our opinions should have the weight which she 
 acknowledges they seem to have. If she knows us personally, 
 she should have made the distinction, that, while, in what con- 
 cerns only ourself, we are quite above being the slave of either 
 individuals, " sets," or majorities, we are subject, in all that 
 concerns others, to the verdicts of the calm-minded and judi- 
 cious. "We should have no influence, else. " Influence" may 
 be surprised out of the world by. audacity, but it is never 
 
THE CENTRAL PLANE. 57 
 
 retained without just cause shown to the world's common 
 sense. While a pretender, in private life, may flourish unac- 
 countably long without being brought to the bar — while poets 
 put off their " last appeal" to posterity — while the wrongs of 
 money and silence are " postponed for hearing" till the judg- 
 ment-day — editors are eternally on trial, promptly acquitted 
 or condemned, and, upon the average of the weekly, daily, 
 hourly verdicts, pronounced upon them by Common Sense, 
 can alone be built their prosperity and continued " influence." 
 Though the world is a fool, taken by the day, it is wise, taken 
 by the year. And he who does not remember this paradox, 
 and find its explanation in the effect, upwards and downwards, 
 of the common sense of the central plane — in the after-recog- 
 nition, by the Public, of what was too low or too high, and 
 the final admission that the more liberal medium was between 
 the two — may pass, with his admirers, for a man who thinks 
 for himself, but he will have no " popularity" that will hold 
 out — no " influence" upon which a public journal could be 
 permanently established. 
 
 No, no ! We claim, of our fashionable lady correspondent, 
 that she shall run her memory through the articles in the 
 Home Journal from which she has received her impression, 
 and see, in their deference to common sense, the reason of any 
 influence which she finds difficult to explain. We write upon 
 the topics of fashionable life, but we would as soon pass our 
 life upon one round of a ladder as belong to it exclusively, 
 either in person or in opinions. It is the lesson we have picked 
 from travel and philosophy, that, by occupying the central 
 plane, one may reach what is good that were else below him, 
 and what is good that were else above him. The man lives 
 
68 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 but half a life who has no friends but the fashionable — as he 
 does who has no sympathies but with the vulgar ; and, to 
 known for only an exponent of the opinions of either class 
 would soon put our self respect, as it would the waxing circi 
 lation of our paper, on the Wane. In the most idle and trifling 
 " editorial" we ever put pen to, there was a purpose to brin^ 
 the subject, (up or down,) to the level of common sense. Of 
 course, we are as liable to err as other mortals ; but, in the 
 present prosperity of our Journal, we repeat, there is an ac 
 mission, by the verdict of the " central plane," that we have 
 been true to this endeavor. 
 
 
THE LADIES ASTIE. 
 
 RIGHTS OF THE SEX DISCUSSED RECENTLY AT THE OHIO FEMALE 
 CONVENTION. 
 
 The present is the first century, and this the first country, 
 of the world, in which the female sex, is (collectively, and all 
 qualities taken into account) superior to the male. "Without 
 comparing individuals, or touching the question of compara- 
 tive capability — without asking whether there could be a female 
 intellect like Webster or Clay, or a female planner of a cam- 
 paign like Taylor or Scott — we merely call attention to the 
 aggregate qualities of the two sexes. We say, look at the 
 I ! average of the men, and the average of the women of America : 
 Physically — (from such slavery to business as excludes 
 exercise and checks the rebound of the natural spirits, from the 
 hurried and unsystematic manner of eating, and from inatten- 
 tion to personal regularity and cleanliness) — men have degen- 
 
 (69) 
 
70 • THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 erated in America, and there is no one in twenty who is above 
 the average stature of woman, or is stronger in body. 
 
 Intellectually — the national admiration, for nothing in a 
 young man but the art of making money, the diseased and 
 monomaniac cupidity of men of middle age, and the broken 
 down constitutions and unfurnished minds of a few men who 
 live to be old, are connecting causes which have thrown in- 
 tellectual culture mostly on the side of the other sex. It is 
 the women who read. It is the women who are the tribunal 
 of any question aside from politics or business. It is the wo- 
 men who give or withhold a literary reputation. It is the 
 women who regulate the style of living, dispense hospitalities, 
 exclusively manage society, control clergymen and churches, 
 regulate the schemes of benevolence, patronize and influence 
 the Arts, and pronounce upon Operas and foreign novelties ; 
 and it is the wonlen, (we think we may venture to add,) who 
 exercise the ultimate control over the Press — they being the 
 real constituency of every journal that gets to the fireside, or 
 that is conducted with any pretension to principle, or is not 
 exclusively commercial. 
 
 Morally — the women of America are superior to the men, 
 to a degree (the mere fact scarce need be asserted) which was 
 never known before in the history of nations. This, it is true, 
 is partly accidental — our men having no time except for vice 
 ready-made, and not being generally of a quality that could 
 offer a temptation at all dangerous to the virtue of the refined 
 — but the fact is no less a tower of strength to the other sex ; 
 and the prodigious elevation which is given by virtue to all the 
 other portions of the character, is no less note-worthy as a 
 reason for the undeniable supremacy of female character in 
 
THE LADIES ASTIR. 71 
 
 this country. This was at the bottom of the answer given by 
 an American statesman to De Tocqueville. The French phi- 
 losopher, after lamenting the corruption of our elections, the 
 bribery of our Legislatures, the paying of unscrupulous par- 
 tizanship with our offices and diplomatic honors, and the 
 baseness of our political press, asked : — " And now, what do 
 you really rely upon, to save America from these growing 
 elements of destruction ?" " On the fire-side !" answered the 
 American statesman. 
 
 In religion, finally, in taste, in general elevation of sentiment 
 and in consistency of standard of opinion — the women of Ame- 
 rica are superior to the men, as probably no one will deny. 
 
 "We have thus given the reasons why we look, more gravely 
 than some of our editorial brethren, on the different " conven- 
 tions" that have been held for the assertion of " "Women's 
 Eights," and particularly on the organized and formal one 
 which has just taken place in Ohio. Before making farther 
 remark, let us briefly sketch the leading features of this 
 meeting. 
 
 The privileges claimed for woman, in the Eesolutions 
 drawn up, were : — entire equality with men in law-making, 
 voting and governing; equal prices for industry; equal stand- 
 ards of morality and propriety ivith the other sex; equal con- 
 trol of property and children; equal social, official, religious, 
 literary, pecuniary, and personal privileges. 
 
 A little to restore the balance, before giving our own sand- 
 grain of opinion on this critical subject, we must remind the 
 reader of the time-worn authorities on the other side of the 
 question. The holy fathers of the early primitive church la- 
 mented even the existence of the sex. Says Gibbon : — " It 
 
72 THE BAG-BAG. 
 
 was their favorite opinion, that, if Adam had preserved his 
 obedience to the Creator, he would have lived forever in a 
 state of virgin purity, and that some harmless mode of vege- 
 tation might have peopled Paradise with a race of innocent 
 and immortal beings. The use of marriage was permitted 
 only to his fallen posterity, as a necessary expedient to con- 
 tinue the human species, and as a restraint, however imperfect, 
 on the natural licentiousness of desire." Aulus Gellius says : 
 — " Metellus Numidicus, the censor, declared to the Eoman 
 people, in a public oration, that, had kind nature allowed us 
 to exist without the help of woman, we should be debarred 
 from a very troublesome companion ; and he could recommend 
 matrimony only as a sacrifice of private pleasure to public 
 duty." Gibbon says : — " In every age and country, the wiser, 
 or, at least, the stronger of the two sexes has usurped the 
 powers of the state, and confined the other to the cares and 
 pleasures of domestic life. In hereditary monarchies, however, 
 and especially in those of modern Europe, the gallant spirit of 
 chivalry, and the law of succession, have accustomed us to 
 alldw a singular exception ; and a woman is often acknow- 
 ledged the sovereign of a great kingdom, in which she would 
 be deemed incapable of exercising the smallest employment, 
 civil or military. But, as the Eoman Emperors were still 
 considered as the generals and magistrates of the republic, 
 their wives and mothers, although distinguished by the name 
 of Augusta, were never associated to their personal honors. The 
 haughty Agrippina aspired, indeed, to share the honors of the 
 Empire which she had conferred on her son ; but her mad 
 ambition, detested by- every citizen who felt for the dignity 
 of E.ome, was disappointed by the artful firmness of Seneca I 
 
THE LADIES ASTIR. 73 
 
 and Burrhus. The good sense, or the indifference, of succeed- 
 ing princes, restrained them from offending the prejudices of 
 their subjects ; and it was reserved for the profligate Elioga- 
 balus to discharge the acts of the Senate with the name of his 
 Mother Sosemias, who was placed by the side of the consuls, 
 and subscribed, as a regular member, the degrees of the legis- 
 lative assembly. Her more prudent sister, Mamssa, (mother 
 of the Emperor Alexander,) declined the useless prerogative, 
 and a solemn law was enacted, excluding women forever from 
 the Senate, and devoting to the infernal gods, the head of the 
 wretch by whom this sanction should be violated. The sub- 
 stance, NOT THE PAGEANTRY OF POWER, Was the object of 
 
 Mamsea's ambition. She maintained an absolute and lasting 
 empire over the mind of her son.'''' " The most important care 
 of Mamcea and her wise counsellors, ivas to form the character 
 of the young Emperor, on whose personal qualities the hap- 
 piness or misery of the Roman world must ultimately depend. 
 An excellent understanding soon convinced Alexander of the 
 advantages of virtue, the pleasure of knowledge, and the ne- 
 cessity of labor. His unalterable regard for his mother, guar- 
 ded his inexperienced youth from the poison of flattery." We 
 need scarce remind our readers of the " Salic law' 1 * by which 
 daughters were excluded from all inheritance. The Greeks 
 " did not live on a footing of friendly intimacy with their wives, 
 like the moderns, but preserved a certain distance, handed 
 down from the earliest ages, when women were regarded as 
 
 * The names of the four originators of this law would make very good 
 targets for eloquent execration by the orators of future conventions. They 
 were Arogast, Bodogast, Salogast, and Windagast — the most celebrated 
 men among the pioneers and settlers of France. 
 4 
 
74 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 the slaves and property of their husbands. The women inhab- 
 ited a different part of the house, called the gyncceum, the 
 most remote interior room, in the building, and were employed 
 in making clothing for their husbands and families." Other 
 and more familiar particulars of the degraded condition of 
 women in more modern days, will occur to the reader — Saxony 
 not to be forgotten where, (as we saw, in repeated instances, 
 in the polite city of Dresden, a year or two ago) the wives 
 and daughters are harnessed into carts with donkeys and dogs, 
 and draw vegetables to market, while the husband and father 
 walks alongside with a whip, smoking his pipe ! 
 
 Having thus given our readers the data we can command, 
 pro and con, for forming an opinion on what is "by no means 
 the least important " sign of the times" — the American agita- 
 tion of the question of the equality of the sexes — let us briefly 
 make a suggestion as to what seems practicable in the pro- 
 posed reform : — 
 
 The power exists. Women are, we fancy, strong enough, 
 in our country. For a beginning, at least, it is principally 
 important to inquire how the power they really possess can 
 be combined for action and wisely directed. With its appli- 
 cation to good purposes and its increasing utility, of course 
 the power would more easily assume its true station, and 
 woman would take rank according to her manifest merits, 
 with little or no opposition. 
 
 But we doubt whether it could be brought about by female 
 freedom to vote. We agree with Mr. Greeley that the worst 
 women would probably drive the best from the ballot-box. An 
 easier first step is wanted— something that does not conflict 
 directly and rudely with the inbred habits of the sex. Will 
 
 
THE LADIES ASTIR. 
 
 75 
 
 the ladies pardon our boldness, if we venture to suggest a 
 method, by which Female Power— that desired Quatrieme 
 Etat— may be organized, recognized, and exercised effectively 
 and systematically. 
 
 Briefly : — 
 
 The favor and acquaintance of women is a thing they can 
 give, or withhold, at will. No man can hold up his head in a 
 community without it. No man of any influence, position, or 
 office, would willingly risk a public forfeiture of it. Keeping 
 the doors of society as women do, they could make a formal 
 exclusion immediately felt, and, even were he disposed to 
 defy it himself, the offender's family and relations, for him, 
 would inquire closely into his conduct and use their utmost 
 endeavors to prevent or remove the disgrace. 
 
 For this purpose of combined social exclusion, the women 
 of every Congressional or Legislative District might form an 
 Association, either acting separately, or with reference to a 
 larger State or National Convention that should meet by Dele- 
 gates. They might subdivide into a Society for every town, 
 so as to reach the home and neighborhood of every public 
 representative. Journals might be published, edited by the 
 sex themselves, which would discuss the questions at issue 
 and guard them against rash or unreasonable action, and, by 
 meetings and discussions exclusively among themselves, they 
 might form, and act upon, well considered opinions. 
 
 Take an evil, for instance, like the flagrant bribery and cor- 
 ruption of some of our State Legislatures. The method of 
 " soaping a Bill through" has been long understood by intelli- 
 gent men, but, as the reader may not have seen the notices of 
 
76 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 the means used recently to carry the " Wetherell and Forrest 
 Divorce Bills" through the Pennsylvania Legislature, we copy 
 a passage, (and it is a subject which is of interest to every 
 lady,) from the Philadelphia Spirit of the Times ; — 
 
 " We have more than once asserted emphatically, that undue and 
 criminal means were actively employed to secure the passage of the 
 two prominent divorce bills, now pending in the Legislature of this 
 State. We have seen enough to convince us, and fortify ourself in the 
 assertion, that no scruples of law or conscience are permitted to inter- 
 fere with the projects of those hired legislative panders to connuhial 
 resentment and perfidy. From the sly presentation of a case of brandy, 
 to the direct and unequivocal tender of money, no appliances have been 
 left unused. Open threats have been employed to imtimidate weak 
 members, and the worst forms of corruption to advance collateral and 
 outside objects. Any attempt to refute these charges, or suppress their 
 repetition, will be signally futile. We have in our possession letters 
 from prominent parties, who have hitherto stood high in public esti 
 mation, containing pecuniary tenders for the suppression of evidence, 
 and offering the highest considerations for connivance and silence." 
 
 Now — we ask — would this disgraceful system exist, if the 
 evidence of corruption here offered, or easily obtained when 
 the villainy has been committed, were to be laid before a con- 
 vention of women, and the bribed Member were to be publicly 
 stigmatized and excluded from every house, far and near, in 
 which there lived a virtuous woman ? 
 
 This is, of course, a crude suggestion, but it points, we 
 think, however vaguely, to a power women have, which is 
 strong enough for any good purpose — by which they can in- 
 fluence the motives and conduct of any public man — which 
 they can exercise without contact or conflict with the other 
 
THE LADIES ASTIR. 7.7 
 
 sex — and in the well-weighed decisions and verdicts of which, 
 all men whose social position is of any weight, would concur 
 and assist. If women are capable of agreeing, combining, 
 systematizing, and persevering in concerted action, the power 
 they want is, we think, abundantly at their disposal. 
 
GOSSIPPING LETTER 
 
 TO THE LADY SUBSCRIBER OUT OF NEW-YORK. 
 
 Dear Madam : 
 
 Audacious ransackers, on the highway of events, as the 
 Pressditti are, they are apt to bring, to your caves of curiosity, 
 only the lumber of news — the " pelf and packware" of novelty 
 — the ups and downs of pork, cotton and monarchies — leaving 
 to pass, un-opened and un-plundered, the very caskets of tri- 
 fles, the very jewels of chit-chat and gossip, of which you are 
 most covetous in your seclusion. As prompt as they, to pat- 
 rol and pillage the passing hour for your pleasure, (thisjp patch 
 is provokingly planted), we humbly volunteer, occasionally to 
 make a daintier job of it — to send you whatever is valuable, 
 of course, in the " General" way, but to add a small parcel, 
 from time to time, choicely made up from a nicer plunder of 
 " what people carry about them." 
 
 To begin at once, with a trifle or two : — 
 
 A new revelation, in the Art of Belle-ship has been made 
 
 (78) 
 
GOSSIPING LETTER. 
 
 79 
 
 by Steffanoni, and the belles of New- York are occupied with 
 but one idea — how to carry arms. The infinite expression, 
 grace and elegance that may be given to the presence of a lady 
 by the movements of arms, hands and fingers, is a secret that 
 has always been within reach, of course — like a sun-dial in a 
 grave — but the bringing it to light, by the superb and cool 
 prima-donna, of the Havana Company, has shown its uses, and 
 compelled the dullest eye to " take an observation." Ladies 
 are looked at, now, by gentlemen and by each other — not to 
 price their chatelaines and laces — not to see whose hair is a la 
 Sevigne, or whose eyelids are darkened with henna — not to 
 admire the bonnet farthest off the face, or the dress that most 
 uses the side- walk for a train-bearer — for none of these charms 
 look envious or admiring eyes, at present — but, they look to 
 see who knows what to do with her arms, and who, with the 
 unconscious tranquility of lady-likeness, has the betraying 
 thought-alphabet of Steffanoni, in the play of her fingers. The 
 reigning belles have been tacitly re-measured by this new 
 standard. To this grace, in those who chanced to possess it, 
 is attributed their hitherto inexplicable fascination ; and, to the 
 want of it, in those who have it not, is equally attributed the 
 misgiving, which had always been entertained, that they had 
 been admired by accident. It is seen, in fact, that, in the 
 tuition of young ladies, the arms have been culpably neglect- 
 ed — that a new branch of education, from the shoulder down, 
 must be grafted on the system of any boarding-school, expect- 
 ing, hereafter, to be fashionable — and the probability is, that, 
 in the list of "branches taught," Steffanonomy will follow 
 close after " Astronomy," and be dignified with an extra price 
 
80 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 and a separate Professorship. So much for the leading nov- 
 elty among the belles ! 
 
 Among those who converse — in corners, on sofas, before 
 suppers and after dinners — the great topic, just now, is the 
 state of society. Common theme enough as this is, and thread- 
 bare enough at all times, New -York is at a stage of transition f 
 which gives it an unusual stimulus. Emerson's " banyan tree" 
 of Europeanism, which " sends its roots under the ocean to 
 sprout on the other side of the world," is coming up and bud- 
 ding and flowering so fast, that the indigenous plants feel 
 already overshadowed. Such a phenomenon as a person, 
 male or female, who speaks well of New- York society, is not 
 to be found. The war against it is waged even in the pulpit. 
 Mrs. Kirklancl is down upon it, with unmitigated vigor and 
 vinegar, in Sartain's Magazine for this month — the Lorgnette 
 " does it brown" in weekly numbers — the Literary World is 
 at it again, with essay No. 2 — Baron de Trobriand has " pink- 
 ed it with his perfumed rapier" in three set encounters — Major 
 Noah tweaks its prominences, one feature per week — tourists 
 and letter- writers caricature it " for lively reading" to the 
 Londoners. The best abused thing, on this planet, in this 
 present cycle of eternity, is New- York society. 
 
 "We have no idea of defending it — though dough, and little 
 dogs at their ninth-day, and many a delightful dish in its un- 
 derdone-itude, are, like society, entitled to such indulgence of 
 time as has been needed for previous dough, dogs, dishes and 
 society — but we doubt whether, oh rural Madam, you are 
 aware how this epidemic of mistrust and disgust affects the 
 social spirits and respiration of even those who seem uncon- 
 scious of the disease. Every body is so abused and ridiculed 
 
GOSSIPING LETTER. 81 
 
 that nobody is believed in — people do not even believe in 
 themselves. The haunting incubus of all who " pretend to be 
 any body," is a doubt of their own position. They are afraid 
 to give a party, lest somebody should " vote it vulgar" — afraid 
 to have an acquaintance who is not intimate at the So-and-so's 
 — afraid to take seats at the Operas lest the fashionables should 
 not be on that side of the house — afraid to decide where they 
 will go for the summer^ till they know what is to be " the 
 thing" — afraid to have a card printed, answer a note, ask a 
 stranger to dinner, or reply to a civility, lest they should show 
 that they have not been to Europe, or do something which 
 would number them with the last people they heard ridiculed. 
 Dread of classification with an unfashionable set, will make 
 them shy their most estimable acquaintance in public, or fa- 
 vor one to whom, (when they have just said their prayers, or 
 first wake in the morning) they would not readily confess 
 they were capable of owing a pleasure. The silly and most 
 frightened select a set, and shut their eyes and hold on, in 
 terror, to that ; and those who are quite as ambitious, but more 
 sagacious, cultivate those of every circle who seem to know 
 most of " style." From the anarchy that this produces, there 
 is no one " set" in New- York whose combined superiority is 
 definitely thought of — and there is no one or more whose ac- 
 quaintance is indispensable — and this forms, of course, (for 
 those who are not pursued by the phantom above spoken of,) 
 a social republic, without any recognized aristocracy, where 
 the man of the world, even if he can find no class worth pay- 
 ing homage to, can, at least, pick his friends " with the largest 
 liberty." 
 
 Of the other topics of present talk, perhaps the most fruitful 
 
 4* 
 
82 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 of new ideas is the ebb of the divorce excitements — the reced- 
 ing floods having left stranded, on the beach of attention, 
 various questions which had hitherto been hidden by the 
 vasty deep of indifference. Sundry new conclusions are 
 being arrived at, by the examination of these. The protec- 
 tion of drawing-room against kitchen — the allowance due to 
 beauty when compelled to degrading association — the 
 safety of conforming even to a husband's wishes and habits — 
 the degree of willingness in women to sustain each other — 
 the strange exaction, by the censorious, that one who is 
 reproached should be proved so much better than themselves 
 — the claim of a woman on her friends, when she is accused 
 and in peril — the extent of service due to the cause of an 
 injured lady by gentlemen acquaintance — the power of legisla- 
 tures over matrimony — the reasonableness of divorce — the 
 necessary testimony and its probable cost — and the danger of 
 trusting either virtue or beauty to the careless keeping of frank- 
 ness, unsuspiciousness, kindness, and mirthfulness — are all mat- 
 ters which have been of late, newly and vivaciously discussed, 
 and upon all of which, there is little doubt, society is wiser 
 this year than the last. 
 
 Thus far, dear Madam, we have confined our pillage of news 
 to what no other of our fraternity is likely to have laid hands 
 upon, and we stop before we miscellanify with meaner stuff. 
 Topics for our city readers (who of course have not read a 
 letter that is not addressed to them) we treat elsewhere. And 
 eo, Adieu. 
 
THE TEADE OF AUTHOESHIP. 
 
 An author has fame in lieu of most temporal advantages. 
 
 Shenstone. 
 
 There is a music which, like the air upon a wandering 
 organ, gives least pleasure to him who hears it most, yet 
 upon which Public opinion, that arbitrary Assessor, puts the 
 most exorbitant value, namely : — the grinding of the shoe 
 upon the pavement as the passer-by turns to look after. In that 
 merciless human scale, by which all superiority is graded 
 that it may be atoned for, this music, which the famous hear 
 behind them in a perpetual staccato as they walk, is charged 
 far higher than wealth, and its compensatory tax, by the 
 offended Equality of mankind, far more rigorously exacted. 
 
 Indulge us in a fancied analogy : — 
 
 An author gets his livelihood by providing for the wants 
 of the inside of the head, and a hatter by providing for the 
 
 (83) 
 
84 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 wants of the outside — but One walks with the music of the 
 grinding shoe behind him, and the Other does not ; and, to 
 understand the tax paid for this difference, you have only to 
 to transfer the celebrity, and subject the hatter, in the selling 
 of his hats, to the drawbacks of an author in the selling of his 
 books. Let us imagine a world in which these two trades 
 have changed places : — 
 
 The batter (in a land where hatters " have fame in lieu of 
 most temporal advantages") produces a spring fashion of hats. 
 He is not allowed to dispose of the article himself, but, having 
 created the material, invented the shape, and given the neces- 
 sary gloss and durability, he is obliged to issue it through a 
 hat publisher, who, for only selling it, takes four-fifths of the 
 net profits. To commend or otherwise further the knowledge 
 or sale of the article he produces and lives by, would subject 
 the hatter to a charge of indelicacy and forwardness. But 
 the quality or value of his hat is a legitimate object of attack 
 by periodicals established for the purpose, and the hatter's 
 private character is, by general usage, (as no other trades- 
 man's is) allowed to be freely used and abused in that dispar- 
 agement of his hats, which goes by the name of " legitimate 
 criticism." 
 
 Though stigmatised as a " thriftless class" in the mercantile 
 community, (for continuing to furnish goods for one-fifth of 
 the profits, and for other lack of business talent inseparable from 
 a hatter's organization,) this same community lends vote and 
 influence to the complex system by which hatters are kept 
 poor — denying, among other things, the protection which the 
 law gives to every other kind of domestic goods, and sustain- 
 ing the hat-publishers in keeping the control over American 
 
THE TRADE OF AUTHORSHIP. 85 
 
 hats by the introduction of foreign hats — which (from' the lack 
 of an international hat-copyright) can be stolen from foreign 
 hatters, and imported for nothing. We may add, to these 
 retributions for fame, the general ineligibility of hatters — 
 (common parlance declaring them unfit for matrimonial prefer- 
 ence or political trusts and honors ;) — and last, not least, a 
 deferring of all payment of honor, that can possibly be held 
 back, till after the hatter's death — " the root of a great name" 
 (as the old proverb has it) " being in the dead body." 
 
 "Whether more, or less, celebrated — whether more, or less, 
 looked after in the street — all authors are assessed alike (as 
 possessors of the envied music of the grinding shoe) and 
 charged with this pro rata tax — of the nine specifications just 
 stated. The authors should do as hatters ivould do — combine 
 to demand from their country an equality of tariff protection 
 with other trades ; that (at least) a Court of Errors should be 
 established, to which authors less looked after in the street, 
 could appeal to be less taxed : that, as authors do not " come 
 into their property" till they die, they should be rated, during 
 their life-time, as " minors" in law, and have all their business 
 and bargains referable to Trustees ; and that, as the shoe-grind- 
 ing respect for authors has certainly diminished since "immortal 
 Chatterton" was starved to death, there should be some pro- 
 portionate graduation of the present penalties to the present 
 honors of authorship ; these are heads for Essays which we 
 have not time to write, but which we hand over, as suggestive 
 memoranda, to the expected apostle of Copyright and of 
 Eeform in Literary estimation — confining ourself, for the pre- 
 sent, to a personal protest against one of these nine taxations, 
 of which we shall immediately show our disregard, and of 
 
86 THE RAG-BAG: 
 
 which we hereafter intend, in The Home Journal, to recom- 
 mend and encourage a general contumacy by our oppressed 
 brother authors. 
 
 We claim, then, that our dignity as an author should be so 
 far degraded to a level with that of wealthy merchants and 
 manufacturers, that we may be allowed, like them, without 
 any charge of forwardness or indelicacy, to commend our own 
 wares to the public, under our own name. We write our 
 books, as they build ships and weave cottons, for money. 
 We live by customers, as they do. If we get more of the 
 high-priced music of the grinding-shoe than the merchants and 
 manufacturers we declare that we neither ordered it nor want 
 it, and that we pay for it, besides, in the eight other items of 
 taxation before stated. If it be more derogatory, to dignity 
 like ours, to advertise our books with a commendation, than, 
 to dignity like theirs, to advertise " fast-sailing ships," and 
 " cheap and durable sheeting and shirting," we beg to have 
 our dignity thus much cut down. We will take the pecuniary 
 profit we gain thereby, and give an order on our posthumous 
 fame (of which this dignity is the assessed shadow) for the 
 difference. 
 
 But, before setting the example of advertising, in a mer- 
 chant-like manner, a new book of our own, let us say to the 
 brothers of our craft, that we invite, for The Home Journal, 
 a descriptive announcement, by the author, of every new book. 
 No man is so likely as the author himself, to give the account 
 which purchasers want, of the aim, tenor, and relative bear- 
 ings of a work. This would be no approach to " a puff." It 
 is, in fact, a Preface — preceding the work in a newspaper, 
 instead of being tardily read in the volume after it is already 
 
THE TRADE OF AUTHORSHIP. gf 
 
 purchased. Few men would write otherwise than justly of 
 their own productions ; all authors, of any merit, would write 
 instructively, and in a way to further the sale which is their 
 object. Let those who write for admiration, feel a delicacy 
 in truthfully and openly announcing what they have to offer 
 to the public. Till admiration can be coined and admitted 
 into the currency, authors will be expected, as now, to pay 
 their debts in the money, not in the admiration, they make by 
 their books ; and while men of genius have to pay without 
 delicacy, like other people, they should not be above making 
 money without delicacy, like other people, wherewith to pay. 
 
OPEEA AND THE USES OF THE PIT, 
 
 Absence from the city for a month past has interrupted 
 the outrider notice by which we promise to keep pace with 
 the Opera. By this chance falling behind, we have quite lost 
 the run of its progress. The opera-goers, meantime, seem to 
 have made up their minds. The demure little Barili, with her 
 Spanish eyes and rabbit-like coyness of mouth — a bit of a 
 problem then — is now the indulged pet of the aristocushions. 
 She poises her voice on the top of a high note, with as little 
 misgiving as a butterfly on a wheat-ear, and her boquet, which 
 she carried with the tight grasp of timidity then, hangs over 
 her forefinger, noiv, with the loose hold of assured poco-curante. 
 Benedetti's appointment, as the Town's Passion, is confirmed 
 — (capital actor and most satisfactory taker up of his notes as 
 he is) — and Beneventano is where he was, in well-ascertained 
 impregnability to scientific exception. Sanquirico, in unmen- 
 
 tioned excellence still. Fruity Pico l they say, made a miss 
 
 (88) 
 
OPERA AND THE USES OF THE PIT. 89 
 
 of it in the opera we have not seen, " La Pazza d'Amore," 
 but she came in on Friday, grinding her dulcimer as usual, 
 (in " Linda") and sang with the same delicious ripeness of 
 utterance as before, and the same wave-like pourings of melody 
 over her lips, bounteous as the tumble of sea-swells over a 
 reef of coral. (No poetry intended.) What have been the 
 intermediate ups and downs of these way ward-town-pleasings, 
 we could get no clue to, from the newspapers — for the critics 
 seem to have dropped the opera by general taboo. What is 
 the matter ? Is not Eitchie-dom operatic ? Or is not " the 
 Press" curious as to the way ladies' hair grows behind, and 
 do " we" stay away because all the frontage of the see-and- 
 be-seen-ery of the house, pit, gallery and all, is monopolized 
 by " seats for subscribers ?" 
 
 And this, by the way, takes a thought of ours by the hand 
 and leads it out for a paragraph. There should be a pit 
 proper — cheap and spacious. Not wholly for accommodation 
 to " the people," though that is something. But, the dress cir- 
 cle wants a pit. It is, (if Signor Pogliani did but know it,) the 
 most convincing possible proof of taste for operatic music in 
 New York, (or of something else,) that it continues fashionable 
 though frequented almost exclusively by fashionables. It 
 must be for the music that they come, for they never would 
 persevere in mutual ostentation, in such a mixed up present- 
 ment of rival " sets" as is congregated at Palmo's. They 
 know too much of each other to find pleasure in that — too 
 much, each one, of the skeleton in the other's closet. They 
 come for something besides that opera within an opera — three 
 hours of envious comparison, with a scan. mag. orchestra of 
 whispers and reverie. The people sitting around them in the 
 
90 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 circle, and below them in the same price pit, are the enemy, 
 the unbelievers, the sneerers, the knowers of that dread secret 
 of how they came by their money and what they would be 
 without it. It is not for these cold eyes that they would dress 
 and come to the opera. But, for a legitimate pit — for a be- 
 lieving five hundred of takers-for-granted, who see them as 
 what they show for, and ask no questions — for a pit of acqui- 
 escing, envying, marvelling, unencroaching gazers on their 
 plumes and ermines — for this part of an opera will fashionables 
 (very unconsciously) dress most, and love music more. And, 
 for the " impertinent stare of the pit," as a predominant and 
 necessary attraction of an opera, the manager should tacitly 
 make his calculations — owning to nothing of the kind. 
 
 "We see it confidently stated that a " Music Hall" of great 
 splendor is soon of be erected, and, (as we are not likely to 
 have a new Opera-House besides,) we fear that the plan of the 
 new building, though designed for operas as well as concerts, 
 will exclude a pit. But, (to speak seriously,) we think no 
 such refined public amusements as an opera or concert, ought 1 
 to exclude, either by price or usages of toilette, the lovers of J 
 music who are poor. With no intention of surprising the pub- I 
 lie, we may disclose, that there is a very large class of culti- 
 vated men who are compelled to live and dress economically. J 
 And these men — below the level of kid gloves and dollar 
 tickets — should rightfully have all the advantages, both of 
 hearing the music and seeing the audience — foregoing display 
 only as the consideration for a cheaper ticket. (" Hour ex- | 
 pired.") 
 
LIFE BOATS 
 
 Sterne's appeal, when he would rouse sympathy for the 
 prisoner, was made by taking a single captive, and portray- 
 ing him, as he notched on a stick the weary chronicle of his 
 
 j confinement. Wishing to interest our readers in a scheme of 
 benevolence that is only not thrilling because it saves a thou- 
 
 i sand lives instead of one, let us preface some remarkable 
 
 ; statistics of the efforts of philanthropy in favor of Life Boats, 
 with a single example of their operation, which we chanced 
 to witness last summer. 
 At the breakfast table of the luxurious Samoset House, at 
 
 l ! Plymouth, where we were passing a week in the month of 
 September, there was, one morning, unusual excitement. 
 The sun was shining brilliantly, but there had been a gale 
 during the night, and the surf on the beach would doubtless 
 be magnificent. The house was full of distinguished men 
 
 Mtaking a vacation from politics and law, and distinguished belles 
 
 (91) 
 
92 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 sparkling with the vitality of the salt air and witty society of 
 the place, and a drive on the hard floor of the two-mile beach 
 was the universal and eager proposition. 
 
 "We need not describe the splendid scene presented to the 
 troop of carriages that were soon flying rapidly around that 
 long semicircle of sand, as smooth and hard as a pavement of 
 marble ; nor the romp of the lovely women, who, dismounted 
 from the vehicles, and careless of wet feet, were joining Judges 
 and legistators in chasing the waves out, and escaping from 
 the returning surf as it put up its foaming lip to rally and 
 become the pursuer. It was a gay scene which served for 
 one of those contrasts of which life is full — followed immedi- 
 ately, as its impression was, by one of the most touching pic- 
 tures we had ever happened unexpectedly to see. 
 
 There had been a rumor of a wreck during the night, and, 
 while on the beach, some one of the party espied the topmasts 
 of a sunken vessel, far out on a ledge, tossing to and fro with 
 the heavy sea. Judge ~W. had, meantime, been getting infor- 
 mation, and the curiosity of the company was soon turned, 
 from the magnificent spectacle of the heavy breakers, to the 
 humble dwellings in the neighborhood of the small shed which 
 shelters the Government Life Boat. Under the pilotage of 
 the Judge, who is at home in Plymouth, we were soon at the 
 door of a cottage which had no exterior sign of the drama 
 within, except tne wet trowsers and shirts hanging on the 
 fence to dry — a cottage which the traveller would have passed, 
 with the sun shining on its shut door, and thought it the dull \ 
 type of an abode for poverty the most monotonous and unevent- 
 ful. The lifting of the latch, however, introduced us to a 
 scene of conflict with death, where lowly benevolence was 
 
LIFE BOATS. 93 
 
 doing its work with a zeal that would have done honor to a 
 
 palace. 
 
 Two women were watching over a man who was stretched 
 on a bed, and who seemed to be struggling, with a constant 
 and weak murmuring and writhing, against clangers that he 
 still apprehended. His wet hair lay out upon the pillow, 
 and his white lips and sunken eyes with the despairing ter- 
 ror that his countenance expressed, made him a truly fright- 
 ful picture of suffering. His kind and patient attendants 
 were using every means to restore him to consciousness. 
 They rubbed his hands and his chest, spoke tenderly to him, 
 tried to meet the look of his half opening eyes, and in their 
 self-forgetting efforts to relieve him from his frightful dream, 
 they took no notice of the coming in of strangers. 
 
 By a bright wood fire in the small kitchen adjoining, 
 another woman, and a man in a common fisherman's dress, 
 were attending to another sufferer who had sufficiently 
 recovered to sit upright, and who was brokenly telling the 
 story of the night's trials. He was a small, curly-headed, 
 bright-cheeked sailor, of perhaps thirty years of age, and his 
 brief sentences, each giving the history of a space that con- 
 tained a lifetime of agony, were of a touching eloquence that 
 no dramatic poetry could equal. He had done his best to 
 save a favorite boy of twelve or thirteen, the son of the owner 
 of the vessel, but the lad was washed over* and lost in the 
 attempt, and another man was lost after long clinging to the 
 rigging. The two, who were the survivors, succeeded in lashing 
 themselves to the top-masts, and they were taken off by the 
 Life Boat, as soon after daylight as they, were seen by the 
 hardy fishermen on the beach. 
 
94 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 The rescue was by no means an easy one ; but, full as it was 
 of peril, to those who expected no reward but the approba- 
 tion of duty, and burthensome as might be the gratuitous 
 care taken of the sufferers, both were freely and promptly 
 done, and with no appearance of claiming even admiration 
 for the peril to save, or for the efforts to resuscitate and give 
 comfort. 
 
 We chanced to have, in our company, the member of Con- 
 gress (Mr. Grinnell) to whose efforts, in procuring the passage 
 of the bill for appropriation, the supply of the Life Boat to 
 this beach was mainly due, and, of course, the lives which 
 could not have been saved without it. It was with great 
 interest that we went, from the touching scene we have 
 described, to the Boat restored to its protecting shelter, 
 and examined its contrivances to save. We wished that 
 every Member of the body of men who decide on the trifling 
 sums asked for such enterprises of benevolence, could have 
 seen that appealing drama going on in the house near by, 
 and then looked upon the little cost to the country by which 
 hundreds of such acts of mercy are effected ! There would 
 have been afterwards, never a reluctant vote for an appropria- 
 tion for Life Boats. 
 
 We have since seen a private letter addressed to the Hon. 
 Win. A. Newell, Member of Congress from New-Jersey, 
 giving an account of the saving of one hundred and sixty-six 
 lives by a Government Life Boat of new invention. This 
 was upon Squam Beach, (coast of New-Jersey,) where the 
 packet ship " Ayrshire" stranded in a violent snow storm, on 
 the night of the 13th of January. Lying on a bar, at some 
 distance from the shole, with a heavy sea between, it was 
 
LIFE BOATS. g 5 
 
 impossible for an ordinary boat to reach the vessel, and the 
 whole of this large number of passengers would have perished 
 in sight of land. A line was sent out, discharged with a 
 ball from a carronade, across the ship, and a Life Boat thus 
 towed off, with what is called " a car ;" one hundred and 
 twenty landed on the first day, and the remaining forty-six 
 the day after. Only one passenger was lost, and he from 
 attempting to come on shore on the outside of the car, con- 
 trary to orders. 
 
 With these two special cases presented to the mind of the 
 reader, we make extracts from the remarks of Hon. Mr. 
 Newell, when advocating, before Congress, a proposition to 
 devise means for the saving of life and property on our coast. 
 We will preface it only with one statistical paragraph, from 
 another speech, showing the risk and loss of life and property 
 bound to New- York, in one year : — 
 
 " The total number of wrecks is five hundred and eighty-five. The 
 number of the men engaged in working the vessels is one thousand 
 nine hundred and sixteen, passengers one thousand nine hundred and 
 sixty-nine, and of lives lost four hundred and seventy-seven. The 
 value of the vessels is estimated at $2,021,176, and of the cargoes at 
 $2,501,771, making together the sum of $4,523,176. The amount of 
 insurance paid on these vesssels was $1,579,492, and on their cargoes 
 $1,221,827, making the total of property saved $2,801,319— thus 
 showing the actual loss to be $1,721,857." 
 
VALUATION OF A "FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 
 
 There is a phrase which " does many a chore" in the con- 
 veyance of meaning, and there are far more sounding and 
 pretentious ones that we could better afford to lose — the phrase 
 " it don't pay." Born, as it was, of a quality that is the spinal 
 marrow of American character and success — the obstinate 
 reduction of everything to its real value — we venture to pro- 
 pose for it an enlarged respect, and to suggest to Mr. Ban- 
 croft an inquiry into its more particular birth and parentage, 
 as an historical key to the time. 
 
 Spite, however, of " does it pay ?" asked of almost anything 
 as a matter of habit, there are things, (as there are men,) that, 
 in the hurry of the world, go overvalued for a wonderfully 
 long time ; and, among these, is what is commonly called a 
 "foreign appointment." The eagerness with which this is 
 sought — the other hopes that are thrown up, and the time, 
 money and dignity expended in the pursuit of it — make it 
 
 (96) 
 
VALUATION OF A " FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 97 
 
 worth while, perhaps, that the question " does it pay ?" should 
 be asked and answered. 
 
 Of our " full missions" (to England, France, Kussia and 
 Spain) we need not speak, as there is generally an ulterior 
 motive in the acceptance of them, and the immediate advan- 
 tages are the least inducement. But of a Charge-ship let us 
 try to give an idea. 
 
 The diplomatic circle of a foreign capital is a society of men 
 of all countries, picked for their consummate tact and accom- 
 plishment, bred to diplomacy as a profession, oftenest men of 
 rank, and married to ladies of court breeding and elegance. 
 They are the more immediate circle around the sovereign, and 
 the upper class of the court society is, to a great degree, gov- 
 erned, in its taste and opinions, by the diplomacy. To dis- 
 charge the mere business of the countries they represent, is a 
 small portion of the anxieties, and the smallest tax on the 
 abilities of these functionaries. The game of predominance 
 in national dignity and position— in the influence of their coun- 
 try at that court —is the one which they play with all their 
 powers, and the ability and means for which are the standards 
 by which they measure respect for a new comer. 
 
 Few things in this world require more tact, nicer discrim- 
 ination, and a quicker sense of both natural and artificial 
 politeness, than conversation and manners in this refined sphere. 
 The only language spoken is French, and, to all foreign dip- 
 lomatists, this is as familiar as their native tongue. Difficult 
 as polite conversation is, with all the advantages of unembar- 
 rassed language, it becomes proportionably difficult, or rather 
 ludicrous, with an imperfect knowledge of the language. 
 5 
 
98 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Courts being places hedged round with formalities and 
 ceremonials, the consequence of a diplomatic representative 
 depends more than seems rational— far more than in a republic 
 — on the appearance he makes and the style in which he lives. 
 It is with an appreciative knowledge of this, that foreign gov- 
 ernments give ample salaries to their ministers — the pay, of 
 one of equal rank, being three or four times as much as that 
 of one of our own. Mr. Lawrence, our minister in London, 
 does not equal the display of the Kussian and Austrian Am- 
 bassadors, and yet, for the rent of his house only, he pays one 
 thousand dollars more than the whole amount of his salary. 
 It is all very well to say, where a minister is not rich enough 
 to supply wants from his private purse, that plainness better ' 
 becomes a republic, but — knowing the wealth of our country 
 as they do, reading our high-sounding pretensions, and not 
 used to reasoning abstractly on such matters — the " plainness" 
 envelopes the American representative in an unescapeable 
 atmosphere of meanness. 
 
 The reception of an American Charge, at a foreign court, 
 where he is neither a very accomplished gentleman, nor a 
 master of the French language, nor possessed of sufficient 
 means to make an appearance suitable to his rank, is one of 
 such contemptuous toleration, that, if it could be fully realized 
 by those seeking the office, it would make most of them willing 
 to take much more pains to avoid it. The ceremonious honors 
 due his diplomatic rank are carefully paid. He has a grave 
 reception by the sovereign. He is called on by the court min- 
 isters and the nobility, and by the diplomatists of other coun- 
 tries, with strict observance of etiquette. He is invited to the 
 
VALUATION OF A " FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 99 
 
 larger entertainments at which his equals in rank are guests 
 of necessity. There is an inner society, however, which he 
 never sees, but where he furnishes some of the spiciest 
 materials for the repast — in the way of ridicule. His blunders, 
 in reply to ceremonious speeches, furnish targets for the wit 
 that sparkles round him unperceived. His shifts, in the way 
 of equipages and the expensive requirements of court costume 
 for his family, are being observed and stored up for amuse- 
 ment, at the very moments when he is overwhelmed with bows 
 and brilliant receptions. He has no other pursuit than diplo- 
 macy in which he can show the " political influence" or " bu- 
 siness habits" which got him his office. If he live years at a 
 capital, and accept invitations from the diplomatists, without 
 entertaining in turn, he is the court counterpart of a " gratui- 
 tous ticket" at a theatre, and if he entertain, at his own lodgings, 
 and on the scale of his own pay, he is simply ridiculous. 
 Where idleness is the business of life, and to be agreeable is 
 its highest ambition, " a new joke about the American Charge" 
 is enough to induce an Ambassador to order up his equipage 
 with two chasseurs behind, and drive to twenty palaces, fowthe 
 morning call to which " such a good thing" would lend va- 
 riety. 
 
 Of course, the favor of ladies puts a man within all this, and 
 a young and handsome bachelor, who spoke French perfectly, 
 and a man of tact and breeding, might do very well at a foreign 
 court, on the pay of an American Charge. To him it would 
 be valuable as a school of polite life, and to such an " office, 
 seeker," the office might be " a thing that will pay,"— although 
 leading to nothing beyond. But, to a man who leaves any- 
 
100 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 thing respectable, in the way of a vocation, at home — or to a 
 man of family who wishes to retain a sense of proper pride and 
 independence — or, more especially, to any man who is not a 
 master of courtiers, by his talent and accomplishments, and is 
 susceptible to polite contempt of his country and himself — a 
 " foreign appointment," as the reader will have seen, is an 
 honor of very little attraction in the possessing. 
 
MOKAL OF MAY MOVING8 
 
 The eruption on the front doors tells us that Spring is at 
 hand — the placards of " To Let," in the city, corresponding 
 with the outbreak of crocuses in the country, as a sign of the 
 season. There is no more significant index of the variable- 
 ness of fortunes and worldly conditions, in this country, than 
 the general change of residence in May. The majority, pro- 
 bably, change for the better, as the majority of citizens are 
 doubtless improving in their circumstances, from year to year 
 — but it is a question whether habits of restlessness, injurious 
 to the important feeling of home, are not bred by these annual 
 removals. " Put it one side to think of." 
 
 There is a certain peculiarity, too, which is often charged 
 upon New- York, and which may possibly have grown out of 
 this custom. How many families are there, who have " kept 
 moving," till they are in houses beyond their means, and un- 
 suitable to their style of living ? The last house which they 
 
 (101) 
 
102 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 finally reach, seems to proclaim that they have overshot the 
 mark ; for, dwelling there with closed doors, they are literally 
 buried, with four-story monuments over their heads — " lost to, 
 the friends from whose fond side they have been taken," and 
 occupying of course, only the basement, where they are. Up- 
 town is sprinkled thick with these four-story sepulchres. How 
 much of that part of the city, indeed, might be planted with 
 cypresses, and laid out as the cemetery of victims of premature 
 removal, we leave open to conjecture. 
 
 The number of degrees of rent and house-dignity, in New- 
 York, and the corresponding means of those who adopt them, 
 would be interesting to know. From board at three dollars 
 a week to a rent of three thousand dollars a year, is not an 
 uncommon transition during the education of a daughter — (a 
 " sliding scale" that has its effects !) It is a topic for Hunt's 
 statistical Magazine — the Progress TJp-Town, ivith the differ- 
 ent stopping places and gradations. From the close packed 
 rookeries of Greenwich-street to the scaffolding wilderness 
 above Union Square — from Over-run-dom to Semi-done-dom 
 — there are, at least, twenty degrees of rent and gentility of 
 location. " Friend, go up higher," seems to be the text that 
 contains the moving principle of New-York — but the Eev. Mr. 
 Beecher, who knows how to hitch worldly wisdom into gospel 
 harness, might preach a valuable sermon on the danger of too 
 hasty obedience to this Scripture injunction. 
 
THINGS WASTED. 
 
 A very charming woman, whose toilette had been exceed- 
 ingly admired at a late fashionable party, but to whom no 
 conversation had been addressed during the evening, declared 
 to us, while waiting for her carriage, that she should accept 
 invitations hereafter by sending her dress and jewels — allow- 
 ing her superfluous remainder to go to bed with a book. The 
 appropriateness of this economy in New York fashionable so- 
 ciety, seemed to us worthy of mention in print, and it belongs 
 in fact, to the spirit of anti-neecllessless and sensible sicbstitutioii 
 which is the manifest taste and tendency of the times. The 
 strongest argument for a family carriage, in England, is the 
 power it gives of attending a friend's funeral by equipage — 
 the liveried vehicle, with blinds drawn, expressing quite as 
 poignant grief without the owner inside, and with a great 
 economy of time and tedium. The poor author's reply to his 
 rich host, who pressed the costly meats upon him after his 
 
 (103) 
 
104 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 appetite was satisfied—" No, thank you, I'll take the rest in 
 money, if you please !" was in the same sensible spirit of sub- 
 stitution. 
 
 To button wants upon superfluities, seems to us, in fact, 
 the thing for which the age is most ready. "We have, for 
 some time, thought of making a suggestion of this kind, and 
 we do it more confidently, now that the " money crisis" makes 
 it likelier to prove acceptable. 
 
 Unlike any other city in the world, New York is a crowded 
 metropolis, with an uninhabited Persepolis in its midst — a 
 void within a plethora — an overstocked ground level, with a 
 vacant city built over it, at from forty to fifty feet elevation. 
 There are hundreds of streets of unoccupied third and fourth 
 stories — levels which, in France or England, would be popu- 
 lously inhabited. There are long blocks of houses, in every 
 part of up -town, through which run uninterrupted lines of 
 floors unoccupied. Thus much for the superfluity. 
 
 Now, the crying want of New York is for elegant private 
 lodgings. The increasing number of persons who have homes 
 in the country, and who wish to pass the winter months in 
 the city, but who dislike to subject their families to the pub- 
 licity of hotels, makes this a matter worth calling present at- 
 tention to. Furnished apartments, that can be hired at a 
 moderate annual rent, adapted for convenience and comfort 
 only, and to which meals can be sent from a restaurant or 
 from a neighboring establishment maintained for the purpose 
 — apartments where no show is expected, and which entail no 
 care — are more needed than any other accommodation in this 
 city. The first step has already been taken, for the supply 
 of this convenience so common in every foreign city, and we 
 
THINGS WASTED. 
 
 105 
 
 were informed last week that the profits of one enterprising 
 and well-managing person, who has taken several houses, in 
 the neighbourhood of a restaurant, and let them out in this 
 way to some of our wealthiest country-house owners, amount- 
 ed last year to ten thousand dollars. 
 
 But, the idea, for which we desire that the Court of Com- 
 mon Sense should grant us a copyright, is not yet expressed. 
 We have shown the superfluity and the want — but there is 
 an obstacle to the union of the two. The pride of the dwell- 
 ers in tall houses requires, that they should have the front 
 door to themselves — also the door-plate and bell-handle — also 
 freedom from other people's ash-barrel on the sidewalk edge 
 —also the right of entry and staircase, privacy of basement, 
 and exclusive control of gas, Croton, and night-key. These, 
 (with fashionable neighborhood,) constitute the actual and 
 tangible advantages of a " house up town." And we propose 
 to continue these, one and all, to the present enjoyers of them, 
 — proposing only a better use of their superfluous upper sto- 
 ries, thus : — 
 
 Of every five houses in a block, let the central one be taken 
 by a landlady of lodgings. The main floor and basement 
 might be occupied as a restaurant and cook-shop. The other 
 rooms she would let to those who should agree with her for 
 an annual rent, paying also for regular service, and for the 
 meals she should furnish. Of her neighbors on either side she 
 should hire the upper stories, opening an access to them jrom 
 the central house, and sealing up the staircases, so as to cut 
 off all communication with the families below. In this way, 
 an entry, run through the entire block, would be like the long 
 5* 
 
10Q THE KAG-BAG; 
 
 wing of a hotel ; and this appropriation of it, known only to 
 the occupants, would be no manner of inconvenience to the 
 private residences whose doors and staircases were left undis- 
 turbed. For " settling" the uninhabited Third and Fourth 
 Stories of New York City — for colonizing and turning to ac- 
 count the waste prairies over our heads — we respectfully and 
 gratuitously submit this plan to the Public. 
 
INTEBNATIONAL LIBERALITY. 
 
 One would naturally think that there were two leading aims 
 in the diplomatic office : — 1st, to settle the particular business 
 between governments,, and 2nd, to pursue a general system 
 of effort for the preservation of international good feeling. 
 That the latter, (and, it seems to us, the more important,) of 
 these two branches of diplomatic duty, is usually little thought 
 of, or that no pains are taken about it, by diplomatic men, is 
 a conclusion the reader has already arrived at. Ambassadors 
 and Ministers have thought it quite enough to attend to their 
 negotiations and despatches — and play their part with the per- 
 sons in power to whom they were accredited — settling national 
 misunderstandings after they had expressed themselves through 
 some public measure, and never thinking that an outbreak 
 from a lake, which will desolate cities if attended to only when 
 it has taken its course, may be stopped by the^ hand at 
 starting. 
 
 (107) 
 
108 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 That there is a call, in the liberal spirit of the age, for diplo- 
 matists who are capable of something besides intrigue and 
 dinner-giving, is seen in the appointments latterly, by the 
 English and French Governments, of intellectual and literary 
 rather than merely titled men, to represent them at the more 
 critical posts of their foreign relations. In sending Sir Henry 
 Bulwer to this country, there is a preference of one of the 
 ablest writers and most liberal cosmopolites of the time, over 
 many a titled courtier to whom Her Majesty could acceptably 
 have offered the Mission. Sir Henry Bulwer is a liberal and 
 free-thoughted citizen of the world, who has travelled far, and 
 resided long in foreign countries, and whose books show him 
 to be a most unprejudiced though a very clear-sighted obser- 
 ver. He is the right man to come to a republic. The points 
 on which we differ from his own country and government, he 
 can interpret rightly. He can address himself and his diplo- 
 matic errand as well to the people at large as to a Secretary 
 of State. His object, as an enlightened Minister, of course, 
 is to make England understood here, and make us understood 
 in England — and he effects it at the American " Downing 
 Street," (which is public expression of opinion,) and submits 
 it to the American Prime Minister, (which is the Public 
 Press.) 
 
 The reader will understand that w T e are referring to the re- 
 cent speech of Sib. Henry Bulwer, at the " St Andrew's 
 Dinner" in this city. "We make, below, an extract or two from 
 it — though a cold report, of a speech delivered with glowing 
 eloquence, as this was, and amid the hilarity of a festive occa- 
 sion, can hardly giv<? any tolerable idea of its force and effec- 
 tiveness. It was received with tumultuous enthusiasm, and 
 
INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. 109 
 
 unquestionably bound " St. Andrew" and " Brother Jonathan" 
 in an indivisible bond of good feeliug. We cut the following 
 passages from the report in the Tribune : — 
 
 When the President of the Society had pronounced the seventh 
 regular toast : " Sir Henry Bulwer, and the other Representatives of 
 Great Britain in the United States," Sir Henry Bulwer rose and 
 addressed the company as follows : 
 
 " Mr: President and Gentlemen : — After returning thanks to you, 
 sir, who have proposed, and to you, gentlemen, who have so kindly 
 welcomed, the toast which has just been given, my first and pleasing 
 duty is to pass a just compliment on the noble purposes which inspire 
 the institution of which we are now celebrating the anniversary. It 
 convinces me that if Scottish charity begins at home, it does not end 
 there ; or, perhaps, it convinces me yet more clearly that wherever the 
 Scotchman goes he carries his home with him. Yes, gentlemen, that 
 is the fact : and if I ever doubted it for an instant, the banners which 
 confront me, the Patron Saint under whose auspices the present com- 
 pany has assembled, and above all the eloquent and patriotic speech of 
 my friend on the. left, (Mr. Irvin, the President,) are sufficient to show 
 me that most of those whom I now see collected around me are at this 
 very moment, in imagination, at least, in bonnie Scotland. Ay, gen- 
 tlemen, 
 
 « Your heart's in the Highlands, your heart is not here ; 
 Your heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer — 
 A chasing the wild deer and following the roe — 
 Your heart's in the Highlands, wherever you go.' 
 
 " But there is one thing" which a Scotchman prizes even more than 
 his country. What is that ? looks his neighbour. Why his indepen- 
 dence. Let us confess it, however, that noble spirit of independence, 
 which the national poet of Scotland describes so magnificently as 
 
 « Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,' 
 
110 THE BAG BAG. 
 
 has in these, our prosaic days of Gold and California, a very vulgar 
 appetite, a very mercantile digestion ; it requires to be fed from the 
 pocket. The empty sack finds it difficult to stand up straight, and the 
 needy men find it difficult to be independent ; hence it is that on every 
 sea and on every shore there are found the hardy and adventurous sons 
 of Caledonia, each struggling for his own independence with the same 
 undying courage and indomitable perseverance that his ancestors of 
 old displayed in common, when fighting under that Bruce and Wallace 
 whose glories have been just honoured, for the independence of their 
 native mountains. Nor are the products of Scotland untransplantable. 
 On the contrary, two of them may be said to adapt themselves to the 
 characteristic conditions of the earth, with remarkable peculiarity ; 
 wherever the soil is barren, there will grow the Scotch fir ; wherever 
 the soil is fertile, there will be sure to thrive the Scotch man. There 
 seems, indeed, between his nature and that of prosperity, a sort of 
 mesmeric affinity." ****** 
 
 " Englishmen, Scotchmen and Americans — none of you, as I think, 
 can be proud of yourselves without being proud of each other : I can- 
 not even understand those who, to gratify a paltry vanity, to pamper 
 the appetite of a noisy ambition, are at times willing to create discord 
 and jealousy and hostility between nations which are bound, by every 
 parental, filial and fraternal sentiment, to dwell on terms of harmony 
 and unity together. How different the example of which I may be 
 reminded by the gentlemen beside me, (Mr. Draper, President of the 
 New England Society.) Every one here present knows the melancholy 
 fate of one of my most gallant countrymen — too bold in the pursuit 
 of Science ! his friends, his countrymen, deplored his loss ; all, save an 
 affectionate and ever hope-confiding wife, despaired of his return. Who, 
 in that hour of need, came to his rescue 1 If any one ever doubts of 
 the feelings which ought to animate and do animate John Bull and 
 Brother Jonathan, I shall merely pronounce the names of Grinnell 
 and Franklin. [Great cheering.] Gentlemen, I know that I need 
 
INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. HI 
 
 not remind you of the most glorious feat of arms that British troops 
 ever performed on the American continent, because among the most 
 daring and dashing in that fight were the Master of Lovat's kilted 
 Highlanders. But I may call to your recollection, that, on those lofty 
 rocks, where the chivalry of France and Britain on that day met, may 
 now be seen a monument which, looking down on the mighty river 
 that bears the bold mariner to the vast Atlantic, commemorates, in 
 one common epitaph, the death and glory of Wolfe and Montcalm. 
 Often, while envying the man who erected this monument his noble 
 thought, I have deemed there was an idea nobler still — that of doing 
 for the living what he did for the dead — that of uniting in some great 
 and common cause the fame and name of those two rival States which 
 have so long contended for European supremacy, and which still, in 
 spite of all the blood and treasure prodigally lavished in their conflicts, 
 stand side by side, co-equal in power and renown. 
 
 " But if this is the sentiment which, as an Englishman, I sincerely, 
 warmly, and cordially entertain toward France, can I, as an English- 
 man, feel it less warmly, less sincerely, less cordially, toward the 
 United States of America 1 I will not speak of the obligations of 
 interest, or the ties of blood, because, between Great Britain and the 
 "United States, there is a cause such as I have just described, which ought 
 to bind, which must bind them indissolubly together — a cause more 
 noble than the obligations of interest, more sacred than the ties of 
 blood — the cause of a common creed, a common language, a common 
 literature, a common religion." * * * 
 
 " Gentlemen, you gave my health as representative of Great Britain 
 in this country : I have, therefore, thought it a duty to tell you the 
 sentiments I brought here : I am a diplomatist, but a diplomatist of 
 that school which wishes to see inscribed high over the door of the 
 Foreign Office in Downing-st., that golden maxim which is the foun- 
 dation of England's commercial greatness, 'Honesty is the best 
 Policy.' I am a diplomatist, but one who wishes to banish from his 
 
ll2 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 profession, the sly whisper and the paltry intrigue, and to trust boldly 
 to open speech and public opinion." * * * 
 
 " Gentlemen, I will frankly tell you, I think it ought to be the am- 
 bition of a British Envoy to the United States, not only to 'convince 
 the head of the State Department of his upright intentions, but also, to 
 convince the heart and understanding of the American people. (Great 
 cheering.) These are my opinions — do you share them? (Loud 
 cries of ' Yes.') "Well, then, let me make all of you — kith, kin and 
 clan — members of my legation ; let me attach all of you to my 
 mission. 
 
 " Let me induce you, Americans, to tell the American who vitupe- 
 rates Great Britain — and you, Britons, to tell the Englishman or 
 Scotchman who does injustice to America, that, after all, it is but ' a 
 dirty bird that fouls his own nest.' Let the latter teach the parents 
 that their just pride should be in the prosperity of their children — 
 let the former teach the child that no people has ever performed any 
 work worthy of prosperity, which did not honor and respect their 
 ancestors. 
 
 " Finally, let us all pray that if any contest is for the future to find 
 a place in our annals, that it shall be no other than that of which yon- 
 der work of art (pointing to a beautiful model of a steamship in sugar 
 before him) appropriately reminds me — the contest of the two C's 
 over the great Sea — of Messrs. Collins and Cunard over the Atlantic — 
 (great laughter) — a contest which has for its enlightened and friendly 
 object to bring the thoughts and feelings of one of the great divisions 
 of the world within the shortest possible time, in communication with 
 those of the other." 
 
 The effect of one such speech, as this from which we have 
 given fragments, is better than a year's work in the old school 
 of diplomacy. A new school of diplomacy was well needed, 
 too, between this country and England. Steam is pulling the 
 two nations very close together, and we must, now, be either 
 
INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. H3 
 
 very useful and agreeable friends, or very bitter and trouble- 
 some foes. Diplomacy is most ivanted to prevent the Presses 
 of the two countries 'from exasperating them into international 
 hostility. England's Press is the voice of the Minority — our 
 Press is the voice of the Majority — and of course they can 
 never agree. If our own upper classes of citizens had news- 
 papers to express their opinions, (which they have not,) those 
 papers would differ just as offensively with our present Press 
 as the English papers do, and for the same reason. It is a 
 quarrel between two pyramids, the top-stone doing the fight- 
 ing on one side and the foundation doing it on the other — one 
 abusing the whole of the other pyramid for not being all top, 
 and the other the ivhole of his opponent for not being all 
 foundation. 
 
 "We repeat, that a liberal speech from a " man in authority," 
 which unsays the prejudiced sneers of a short-sighted Press, 
 on either side of the water, and is read by The People at 
 large, is the highest and best exercise of diplomacy for this 
 country. Those who are unrepresented in type, on both sides 
 of the water, should appreciate it, and we should be prompt 
 and warm in our value and honor for a man like Sir Henry 
 Bulwer, while we are privileged to have him among us. 
 
INACCESSIBLE PICTURES AND STATUARY. 
 
 The coming season for influx of strangers, reminds us of 
 something we have often been tempted to propose, viz: — 
 the establishment of some usage or arrangement by which the 
 many fine works of Art, in private possession, could be seen 
 by those who are on a visit to the city. New- York is rich in 
 pictures and statuary, to which there is no access except by 
 acquaintance with the proprietor. Europeans are more repub- 
 lican than we, in this respect, for there are days set apart, by 
 every owner of a fine gallery, when the public can be admit- 
 ted. The right to monopolize what is above a certain degree 
 of excellence, in objects of Art, is not recognized by Public 
 Opinion, under Monarchical governments. The principle is a 
 general and sound one. Mr. Astor might easily buy all the 
 land around Niagaja, so that the greatest wonder of nature 
 could only be approached by ringing at his gate — but the 
 Public would not recognise his right to shut out a single 
 
 (114) 
 
INACCESSIBLE PICTURES AND STATUARY. 115 
 
 visitor. There is a degree of excellence, in every beautiful 
 object, that is alone of its kind, above which exclusive property 
 ceases — (with the single exception, of course, of the beauty of 
 a wife.) There is more in the " Greek Slave" than one man 
 would have a right to own and sequestrate from public view 
 — more in Powers's " Proserpine" — more in Crawford's 
 I Orpheus" — -more in any of the master -pieces by Leslie and 
 Newton, Page and Gray. 
 
 But, here and there, in New- York, there is a door-bell — 
 looking as inexpressive as any other door-bell, and at which 
 the stranger feels no particular liberty to ring — which is the 
 " open-sesame" to collections of Art, made with great cost and 
 care. Pictures which are, in a certain sense, works of Nature 
 — produced by accidents of mood and inspiration, and wholly 
 irreproducible — have been appreciatively purchased by the 
 resident in that house ; and there they hang upon his walls, 
 viewed by his family and friends only — the Public at the same 
 time having that right to enjoy them, which is based upon 
 their singleness of type, and pre-eminence of beauty. 
 
 On the part of most of the owners of these gems of Art, the 
 monopoly is neither willing nor intentional. They would 
 gladly share their pleasure with those who could appreciate 
 what they possess. The custom, only, is wanting. At pre- 
 sent, it would look as obtrusive and forward, to offer the Pub- 
 lic admission to a private house, to see pictures at certain 
 hours, as it would seem obtrusive and forward in a stranger 
 to claim it. It is time, therefore, for some change in the mere 
 usage and understanding on such matters.^ 
 
 Por lack of a better suggestion, why should not the keepers 
 of the principal Hotels be entrusted with tickets of admission 
 
116 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 to the twenty or thirty houses worth visiting for their embel- 
 lishments of Art — the tickets valid only on certain days and : 
 at certain hours ? These gentlemen know their guests, and! 
 know who of our citizens have treasures of painting and stat- • 
 uary. There are parties of our first people, from other parts 
 of the country, in constant succession, who are comparatively 1 
 unoccupied during the long mornings, and to whom it would ! 
 be a most instructive luxury to be able to visit the works of ' 
 Art in the private galleries and residences of the city. We 
 know of collections, and single pictures, which it is a pity a 
 stranger should leave town without seeing, and which they 
 would be welcome to see — the taste to buy a fine picture 
 belonging, usually to a nature liberal in all else. We do not 
 think New-Yorkers are aware how many gems of Art are 
 within the limits of the city, nor how easily they might be 
 made open and accessible to all. 
 
QUESTION FOE NEW YOEK CLUBS 
 
 Is it not time for the New York Clubs to recognise, by 
 some law of preference, or some formal act, that, by the Ame- 
 rican standard, a man is more a gentleman for having had 
 something to do with trade or commerce ? Such is the case 
 | — an idle man, a literary man, or an Army or Navy man, be- 
 ,ing much less of a personage in New York than a successful 
 imerchant — and our country is big enough, populous enough, 
 and powerful enough to have a standard of its own, and 
 (right or wrong) to have it understood in other countries ; so 
 junderstood, that is to say, that it will be only necessary to 
 know a man is an American, to know also that he cannot be 
 of the class which is highest in his own country, unless he has 
 shown that he can make money. 
 
 The standard in England is quite the contrary ; but, while 
 we let England take which she pleases of her own subjects to 
 be gentlemen, we demand a like privilege, of course, for Ame- 
 
 (117) 
 
118 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 rica. We demand to settle, for ourselves, who are. gentlemen, 
 and we claim that England, in classifying our countrymen, 
 should use our standard and not her own. It is on this ground 
 that we think the following movement (mentioned in the cor- 
 respondence of the Tribune) illiberal, and wanting in proper 
 international respect : — 
 
 " The London Times mentions a thing, hoping it is not true 
 for the honor of English hospitality, that the members of the 
 United Service Club have refused to extend to the U. S. Na- 
 vy Officers of the St. Lawrence, the usual civility given to 
 foreign officers, of having the run of the Club during their 
 stay. The reason assigned for this is, that the officers of the 
 St. Lawrence have been engaged in mercantile service ! The 
 taking part in anything industrial — contributing to Produc- 
 tion and "Wealth, opposed to War, Murder and Robbery, is 
 deemed by these journeymen butchers as dishonorable, and 
 a slight is accordingly put upon the officers so degrading 
 themselves." 
 
 Now, as our readers know, there is no authority like a 
 London Club, for a decision as to who is a gentleman. A 
 movement like the above is the most authentic and grave ex- 
 pression of England's opinion. The American Navy officers 
 who took charge of the United States ship which the Govern- 
 ment lent to American Industry to convey its goods to the 
 World's Eair, did thereby forfeit, (according to the English 
 Club standard) their admissibility to the hospitalities reserved 
 for gentlemen. As to the correctness of the standard itself 
 we repeat, we have nothing to say. England may decide In- 
 dustry to be beneath a gentleman, if she like. But, we repeat 
 secondly, it is nationally discourteous to subject Americans 
 to the same standard — Americans, whose best claim to high j 
 
QUESTION FOR NEW YORK CLUES. H9 
 
 position and consideration at home, is the very power to make 
 money which they thus vote to be vulgar. 
 
 That this expression of opinion, by England, is not from 
 ignorance, but from a long-entertained dislike to our national 
 vehemence of pursuit for the almighty dollar, and our forget- 
 tings of some other respectable values meantime, let us show 
 by a little extract from an article by Leigh Hunt. This able 
 -writer has abundant reason for complaining as he does, but it 
 is in the general assertions he makes as to our national char- 
 acter, that he shows the common feeling we refer to. Speak- 
 ing of the pirated editions of his own works by American pub- 
 lishers, he says : — 
 
 " A few years ago I received a copy of another Boston edi- 
 , tion, the publisher of which was so good as to say that he had 
 heard of a new one from my pen, which he would be very 
 happy to print also, if I would send it to him. Not a syllable 
 } did he add about the happiness of disbursing a cent for the 
 j permission ! I should like to know what an American pub- 
 i lisher would say, if some 'English traveller were to help him- 
 i self to the fruits of his labor out of his till, and make off with 
 them on board ship. Being a cousin-germane of the Ameri- 
 cans, I am very popular in their country, and receive from 
 them every compliment imaginable, except a farthing's pay- 
 ment ! How came my mother to be born in such a country ! 
 I love the women there for her sake, especially the Philadel- 
 phia women. I respect, also, every American that differs 
 with his bookseller ; and I hold in due favor their Bryants, 
 their Emersons, their Lowells and their ambassadors. But I 
 wish I could get rid of the impression which I have before 
 mentioned ; to wit, that one great shop counter extends all 
 down their coast, from Massachusetts to Mexico. "Why do 
 they not learn that there is something else in the world beside 
 puffing and money-getting ? Money-getting republics may 
 
120 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 be the millennium of the mercantile ; but they are neither the 
 desires of human nature, nor of merchants themselves when 
 they come to be lords." 
 
 Without defending the American standard, or expressing 
 here, (though we have done it elsewhere,) how it might be 
 advantageously modified and varied, we simply wish to call 
 attention to the fact that our standard differs from that of 
 England, and that England arrogantly insists on measuring 
 our gentlemen by her own. But Americans act very differ- 
 ently, and certainly more liberally. "We receive all England's 
 lords and gentry at the same valuation which a Court and a 
 Club set upon them in England. The Pall-Mali standard is 
 " at par" in Broadway — indeed we might say it is rather " at 
 a premium." Now, where is our national pride that we can- 
 not, in turn, subject Englishmen to our standard, when they 
 come here ? A lord, setting his rank aside, is nothing but 
 " an idle loafer, who couldn't make a cent to save his life," 
 and why not reject such from the hospitalities of New York 
 Clubs, and invite only English merchants and English trades- 
 men, who can turn a penny like our own American aristocra- 
 cy ? ¥e ask the question only by way of suggestion. 
 Should there not be a Wall street Club, where we can return 
 the compliment, to say the least — a club of ancestors themselves, 
 so to speak, of which none could be members but those from 
 whom others are to descend ; and to which no idle Englishman 
 could be invited who had descended from the distinguished 
 first makers of fortune. The subject " opens up," and wants 
 talking about, we think. 
 
LETTEE ON PASSING TOPICS. 
 
 Visit to the Residence of the late Mr. Downing — Com- 
 ing Sale of that beautiful spot, and thoughts there- 
 upon — Visit to Mr. Clay's Law Office at Lexington, 
 and Description of it — Sontag, pointed out by Theo- 
 dore Pay, while conversing with the King of Prussia 
 in an Opera-Box at Berlin — Hee. curious history — 
 Thackeray — His Personal Appearance and Manners — 
 Probabilities of Popularity here — Anecdote of him, 
 etc. etc. 
 
 Hudson Highlands, Sept. 
 
 Dear Morris: — 
 
 I have been wandering about the grounds of Downing's 
 
 beautiful residence this afternoon, recalling his taste -imbued 
 
 features and gentle and sweet manners, by the beautiful 
 
 things he had gathered around him, and I wish I could give 
 
 6 (121) 
 
122 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 expression to some portion of the tender memory of this be- 
 loved friend of ours, which my visit to his home has awak- 
 ened. If you were here, I should say much. There is little 
 that I can write, which would at all express the spirit of 
 mournful regrets in which it has passed through my mind, 
 but, to one thought which seems to me to have some weight 
 as a matter of general interest, let me call your attention. 
 
 Downing's mind is still here. It is alive in a thousand 
 plants and flowers, and it continues to influence the times to 
 which he belonged, by models of beauty in grounds and archi- 
 tecture, which are everywhere being occupied and made per- 
 manent. Of that smaller World of Taste and Eefmement 
 which is so overshadowed and so much neglected and forgot- 
 ten amid the larger "World of Enterprise and Ambition, he 
 was the ever-reminding, ever-diffusing prophet. If the zeal 
 and industry with which he followed this good and humaniz- 
 ing work had been given to business for his own mere advan- 
 tage, his mind, now still living and beneficent among us, 
 would be buried but in the books of a bank, and a blessing 
 but to those who were his heirs. 
 
 It is to be one of the immediate and painful results of his 
 thus having lived most for others, that Downing's family (I 
 am told) are compelled to relinquish the possession of the 
 lovely spot where he resided. It is very soon to be sold to 
 relieve the estate of its embarrassments. The thought which 
 is finding its way to you in this letter, my dear Morris, is a 
 wish that the lesser World of Taste, of which I spoke, may 
 be well advised of what a treasure is here offered to some one 
 of its number. It is a little Eden of beauty just perfected. 
 Every tree is grown— every shrub developed and in its place 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 123 
 
 — every object of out-of-door ornament and Art thought of, 
 brought from a distance and adjusted to its surroundings — 
 the plants and flowers of every clime of our prodigal earth so 
 carefully and thrivingly represented as to form a constant 
 study — the views over the lovely Hudson arranged in glimpses 
 artistically contrived — the house, in the midst of all this, a 
 perfect study of comfort and elegance. And, one thing more. 
 The neighborhood is such a one as Downing might well have 
 chosen to live in. The drives are unsurpassed for romance 
 and loveliness of scenery, and the costly and beautiful resi- 
 dences of men of taste gem the surrounding hills as far as the 
 eye can reach. So sweet a home in so charming a neighbor- 
 hood could not be found in our country. 
 
 I would not have so beautiful a gem as this sacrificed at a 
 sale of which those most likely to be interested might near 
 nothing. There are those who, (instead of making a country 
 seat) wish to buy one that is ready to be enjoyed ; and who are 
 willing to pay justly for what it has cos't taste and pains to 
 complete and bring together. Into some such hands of liberal 
 refinement I hope the place may fall. A sale which should 
 measure its worth by the number of feet in its acres and the 
 elevation of bricks in its walls, would be an injustice to the 
 memory of Downing and a wrong to the family that survives 
 him. Add, in a note to this published letter, if you can, the 
 time* fixed upon for the sale, and let us hope that it may 
 
 * Country Seat at Auction.— For sale at public auction, on Thursday, 
 7th. October, at twelve o'clock, M. upon the premises, at Newburg, N. 
 Y , the residence of the late A. J. Downing, consisting of a dwelling 
 house, of the Elizabethan order of architecture, and between five and six 
 acres of land. As this place was the entire creation of Mr. Downing, 
 
124 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 bring togeth<>" those who will put upon the property its just 
 value and appreciation. I may aptly give emphasis to what I 
 thus suggest, perhaps, by recalling to your mind a passage in 
 one of his books where he defines the spirit in which his home 
 has been formed and embellished. He says : 
 
 "In cultivated country life every thing lends its aid to 
 awaken the finer sentiments of our nature. The occupations 
 of our country are full of health for both soul and body, and 
 for the most refined as well as the most rustic taste. The 
 heart has there, always within its reach, something on which 
 to bestow its affections. We beget a partiality for every copse 
 that we have planted, every tree which has for years given us 
 a welcome under its shady boughs. Every winding path 
 through the woods, every secluded resting-place in the valley, 
 every dell where the brook lives and sings, becomes part of 
 our affections, friendships, joys and sorrows. Happy is he 
 who lives this life of a cultivated mind in the country." 
 
 You will readily see the association of memories by which 
 I turn from Downing's working-place to the working-place of 
 Henry Clay — his law-office — which I visited a few weeks ago 
 at Lexington. It was a small room opening directly upon the 
 
 and a complete embodiment of his art, it possesses a greater combination 
 of natural beauty in its river and mountain view, and exquisite taste in 
 its adornment than any place in the United States of its size. Though 
 of moderate extent, and in the immediate neighborhood of a large town, 
 yet such is the consummate skill and taste in its arrangement, that it 
 has all the appearance of a large place— abounding in every variety of the 
 finest fruit, and adorned by the rarest trees and flowers. Immediately 
 after the sale of the place, a portion of furniture, pictures, vases, green- 
 house plants, etc, will be disposed of. For further particulars, or per- 
 mission to view the premises, apply to J. J. Monell, Chas. Downing, 
 Newburg, or H. W. Sargent, Fishkill Landing, executors. 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 125 
 
 sidewalk of a street much frequented. A large livery-stable 
 was just opposite, and its long line of unhoused vehicles 
 extended along in front of the office door, while a group of 
 stablemen and their hangers-on were discoursing of horse- 
 flesh, in tones that must have been habitually audible to the 
 great statesman at his desk. There was no one in the office, 
 and the door was open. A small and common desk, with a 
 leaf which turned up by a hinge, formed, with two chairs, the 
 only furniture — a naked arena, indeed, for a mind so plumed 
 and equipped ! Yet there was something within the bare walls 
 which made me feel that my head should be uncovered while 
 standing within them. The suffusion of blood over the heart, 
 which one feels at a great thought suddenly expressed, or at 
 the sound of a trumpet, came over me. Mr. Clay was still 
 living, but the morning's news had pronounced his recovery 
 hopeless. Never more would that tall form, with the knightly 
 port and mien, enter that humble door to unlock the humble 
 desk at which his, the most princely spirit of the age, had pa- 
 tiently achieved its fame. A resentful thought at the weapons 
 with which modern chivalry must achieve its triumphs, if at 
 all, was mingled with the tearful homage with which I remem- 
 bered him who had there used them, 
 
 I am fairly embarked, I believe, my dear Morris, upon a 
 letter of a more personal vein than is my more willing and safer 
 wont. I will pursue it — but let me turn from these sad mem- 
 orials of the great who have gone from us, and close my gos- 
 sip as soldiers come away from a comrade's funeral — the dead 
 march changed suddenly to a quick step. 
 
 Sontag is with you — a bird from a palace-garden, to whom 
 common ears may well feel privileged to listen. Like Jenny 
 
1%Q THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 Lind, she sings to hearts bespoken long before. This is a 
 country where — more than anywhere else in the world — ad- 
 miration plays second to the remembrance of what the song- 
 stress is as a woman. "Whatever notes may come from it, her 
 throat will have far more enchantment for the pride it has 
 choked down and swallowed to do the brave thing for a 
 husband in misfortune. A half hour's study of Sontag's fea- 
 tures and her position to the world which I once had while 
 abroad, comes vividly back to me. I was at the Opera in 
 Berlin, and our old friend and partner, Theodore Fay, Secre- 
 tary at that court where she was an Ambassadress, sat by me. 
 He suddenly touched my arm and called my attention to a 
 couple who were conversing in one of the decorated boxes 
 near the stage. The lady was dressed in light blue, with costly 
 lace and diamonds, and sat with one wrist gracefully crossed 
 over the other, a profusion of blonde curls falling richly about 
 a face of great naturalness and simplicity — altogether, I thought, 
 a lovely picture of a woman. A stout gentleman, plainly 
 dressed, leaned towards her with a manner of marked earnest- 
 ness. " There," said Fay, " is a picture that will interest you 
 — Madam Sontag, Countess of Eossi — the king is talking to 
 her." I was never more grateful to a friendly cicerone — but, 
 though it was the first time I had seen either of those who 
 were thus pointed out to me, I looked little at the king. 
 "While I studied the gentle and sweet features of the one he 
 looked so desirous to please, Fay, who saw her constantly in 
 society, expressed the highest admiration for the degree to 
 which her character and manners embellished the station 
 which she held — eulogizing her, as a wife and mother as well 
 as the greatest favorite at court, in terms such as he is not 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 127 
 
 the man to misapply or use lightly.* How strange seemed 
 ber position as I then saw her ! She had forgone, for love 
 and a home, the homage of the world at large ; but how un- 
 likely would it be that the respectful homage of a king would 
 follow the singer in retirement thus preferred ! Her path of 
 destiny seemed high throughout. I regretted, at the time, 
 that her brilliant gifts should be hid, even thus happily, from 
 common sharing and admiring, little anticipating that a turn 
 of misfortune in that bright path would bring her to our shores 
 as a songstress, years after. 
 
 Thackeray is about taking the bold step of coming over 
 bodily to displace his ideal — an experiment which Dickens and 
 Kossuth found so disastrous, and upon which few authors or 
 heroes that ever lived could safely venture. The soul and the 
 body seldom look alike. Once demigod-ed a man had best 
 stay in his cloud. What sort of descriptions do you suppose 
 the " correspondents of the country papers" would give of 
 Milton, if he were to re -appear and. walk Broadway for a 
 month ? America is, to English authors, an optional poster- 
 ity—the broad Atlantic being a well-adjusted magnifying 
 
 * There is very high, corroboration of this in a recent letter of Mr. 
 Walsh to the Intelligencer. He writes, from Paris : — 
 
 " Before this reaches you, you will probably have hailed in the United 
 States the rising there of one of the most brilliant stars of the musical 
 firmament — the Sontag. Before leaving Europe, Madame Sontag gave a 
 farewell concert at Baden, where she took leave of numerous royal and 
 aristocratic personages, her admirers and friends, the King of Wurtem- 
 berg, the Prince and Princess of Prussia, Archdukes of Baden, and nu- 
 merous members of diplomatic corps in whose circle she moved with 
 great distinction, for many years, as the wife of the diplomat, Count 
 Rossi. You will see in Madame Sontag as complete a specimen of the 
 elegant, high-bred, aristocratic lady as Europe has ever sent to America." 
 
128 
 
 THE KAG-BAG; 
 
 glass which produces the same effect as the trans-envy-and 
 competition of the Styx. I used to know Thackeray in Lon- 
 don. He was our correspondent, you recollect, six or seven 
 years ago — then in the chrysalis of his present renown. He 
 is more likely to be personally popular, I think, than any other 
 contemporary English author would be, on this side the water. 
 He is a tall man, of large frame, and features roughly cast — 
 the expression of his face rather " no-you-don't" and Great- 
 Britain-ous, but withal very fearless and very honest. He has 
 (or had) no symptom of the dandy about him. Above twad- 
 dle, by the lift of his genius, and not having had either 
 prosperity or personal beauty enough, in early life, to contract 
 any permanent illusions, he is (or was) more blunt and peremp- 
 tory in address and conversation than will be expected of a 
 fashionable author. He is satirical on the surface, genial at 
 heart. In taking a mutton-chop with him occasionally, at the 
 " Blue Posts," in company with a publisher who was our 
 mutual friend, I remember being struck with the degree to 
 which the hot punch, in the silver tankard after dinner, soften- 
 ed his criticism of new books and brother authors. By knowing 
 his intimates, I learned a circumstance which I will venture 
 to record. His father was wealthy, and his family, of a patri- 
 cian descent, had known only prosperous ease till adversity 
 came to sting one of them into fame. The only remainder of 
 the household in its ancient state, was an old and faithful serving 
 man, whom Thackeray, while earning his first difficult bread 
 with his pen, continued to maintain in the old drab and gold 
 family livery — half starving himself to do it. There was 
 " blood and game" in this, which gave a key to what he would 
 always be true to. 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 129 
 
 Is my letter long enough ? I think it is. Yet 1 have half 
 a dozen passing topics I meant to touch, while in the vein : — 
 Alboni's arrival — the death of Count D'Orsay — "Wallack's 
 welcome return — a book by my old Constantinople friend 
 Honan — one or two new poets whose flights it is time to speak 
 of, etc., etc. But I will say adieu where I am. 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 6* 
 
EDITOEIAL MEMOEANDA. 
 
 THE WASTES OP THIS CITY. 
 
 That New- York is, as yet, settled hut one family deep, 
 
 while other cities are settled three deep, on an average, is a 
 fact that should be mentioned in connection with the difficulty 
 of getting tolerable lodgings. Strangers who do not like the 
 gregarious life at hotels and boarding-houses, are as much 
 embarrassed in this great city, as travellers on a prairie — the 
 second story level being an uninhabited waste. In Paris and 
 London, people of the highest rank feel no objection to occu- 
 pancy of a single floor of a house, taking the chance as to who 
 may lodge above or below them. They would consider the 
 New-York prejudice, of a whole house being necessary to 
 the dignity of a family, as a whim that took up quite too 
 much room. Consequently, there is a population on 
 the ground floor— another population twenty feet above 
 
 (130) 
 
EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 131 
 
 ground — another at thirty feet, and another at forty— and it 
 is found that mankind pack, even four deep, in this way, with 
 no material evil, but, on the contrary, with great advantages 
 of economy and convenience. 
 
 One would suppose that the limited breadth of the island 
 of Manhattan, and the inconveniences of omnibussing over 
 the great distances to which it has stretched with this grow- 
 ing population of one thickness, would have suggested a remi- 
 gration, along through the unoccupied second stories. Why 
 so practicable a people as we, should copy every change of 
 head-dress from Paris, and leave, unthought of and un-imitated, 
 a usage of such economical utility, is a pretty subject for din- 
 ner table discussion. Let us add to the spiciness of the won- 
 der, by reminding the reader, that, with the present enormous 
 rents of New-York, there is not .one family in a hundred, 
 whose house-rent is not out of all proportion, both to their 
 income and other expenditure. 
 
 Anywhere but in America, there i»no u style" dependent on 
 being the only family under the roof. "We underline the asser- 
 tion because we wish it to catch the eye of the public, and 
 sow a seed of suggestion. It would be of no little use, if the 
 idea could get abroad, that a man, with more .house-room 
 than he actually requires, could let the unoccupied apartments 
 without any compromise of dignity. The other foreign usages 
 — of porters in the basement story, of neighboring restaurants 
 for dinners, of conveniences for breakfast and lunch, etc., etc. 
 —would readily be adopted with the spread of the custom; 
 and our city would thus have every luxury within everybody's 
 reach. At present we are like a sliced pine-apple spread mea- 
 gerly over a vast dish, and Chelsea and Williamsburg, Brook- 
 
132 THE RAG-BAGf. 
 
 lyn and Jersey City are but the third and fourth stories of 
 down-town, laid inconveniently and ostentatiously off into 
 suburbs. The omnibusses needed by these removed upper 
 stories, to go between business and home, encumber the 
 thoroughfares ; and, while the families are out of the reach 
 of theatres and other pleasurable resorts, they are needlessly 
 separated all day, from fathers and brothers. We could spin 
 out a deal of speculation, on this difference between New- 
 York, a city with one layer of population, and foreign cities 
 with three or four layers on the same extent of ground, but 
 we leave it with this brief mention — trusting, however, that 
 those who like a city of manageable size, and those who have 
 lots to sell between Fiftieth and One-Hundredth streets will 
 argue the point thoroughly ; and decide the perpendicular 
 
 thickness to which a city population can be packed to the best 
 advantage. 
 
 A BROADWAY STIR. 
 
 The lower part of Broadway — below Barnum, that 
 
 is to say — is pretty much given over to business and the mas- 
 culine gender. Ladies seen south of St. Paul's, except in 
 omnibus, excite that certain indefinable curiosity, which, like 
 the active attention to a glimpse of a petticoat in a monastery, 
 arises from our sinner's interest, in things apparently astray. 
 The impression, consequently, from seeing a lady come out 
 of Delmonico's, contains a certain indefinable difference from 
 the impression of seeing the same lady come out of the New- 
 York Hotel — define it at your leisure. This, or perhaps the 
 magnetism of a pair of boots such as usually contain a voter, 
 
EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 133 
 
 but were then occupied by one of the un- constituent sex, drew 
 a crowd of two or three hundred persons, the other day, to the 
 front of the masculine Hotel above mentioned — patient spec- 
 tators, all, of the very ordinary phenomenon of a lady about 
 mounting a horse. The horse had his objections. A man's 
 hat, a riding habit of cloth of our wear, boots of indefinite 
 extent, and whip held with an air of unmistakeable efficacy, 
 seemed to fail of their ordinary control. T^he stable-man drew 
 the spirited animal again and again to the edge of the side- 
 walk, and, as often, the lady tried in vain to get her foot in 
 the stirrup. After repeated failures she re-ascended the steps 
 of the Hotel, and stood observing the groom's efforts to quiet 
 the horse, not at all disconcerted by the very large audience 
 that was assembled, and, in fact, the whole affair, with the 
 circular Bowling Green below, looking like a scene in a 
 circus. 
 
 Presently came along a plainly dressed man who had 
 an idea, and no objection to lend it. He knew how to pro- 
 duce submission (probably in quadrupeds only) to female 
 domination. The horse was coaxed up to the sidewalk ouce 
 more, and, stepping to the other side, the man took up the off 
 fore leg, and held it while the lady mounted, the animal having 
 evidently no confidence in resistance on three legs. Once in 
 the saddle, she put on the whip, caracoled up and down in 
 front of the Hotel till the pace was disciplined to her mind, and 
 ihen, quietly dropping the reins, walked her steed tranquilly 
 toward the South Eerry. The crowd looked after her till she 
 was out of sight, it being very busily whispered about, that 
 the load, thus unwillingly borne away, was no less than the 
 indomitable will of the celebrated Mrs. Fanny Kemble. 
 
13 4 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 We have mentioned this slight incident with a view to com- 
 parative philosophy — for, (and we ask it with a courage to 
 bespeak, for our sex, any experience that is in the course of 
 nature,) is there no process, corresponding to this lifting of 
 the off fore leg, which may be brought to bear as a persuader 
 on the resistance to female domination ? 
 
 Not wishing, by the way, to injure the character of the sta- 
 ble from which so contrary an animal was furnished for a 
 lady's use, we quote, from an exchange paper, an anecdote 
 illustrative of the magnetism by which the unsubmissive ani- 
 mal was doubtless clairvoyantly effected : — 
 
 " Fanny Kemble is to resume her readings here shortly. When 
 she was at the Kevere house, a waiter carried in her dinner a trifle 
 before the appointed hour. She was writing, and impatient of inter- 
 ruption, glanced at her watch, and beckoned to him angrily to 
 take the viands away again. He hesitated. "Is 't five o'clock ?" said 
 the tragedienne, fixing such an eye upon him as made the dishes 
 shake in his hands. " It lacks but three minutes of it !" he meekly 
 urged. "I dine at five !" thundered the ex-actress, and brought down her 
 weighty arm with such force upon her desk, that it nearly took the 
 astonished waiter off his feet. A moment served him to make him- 
 self missing. Her price for reading in country lyceums is fifty dol- 
 lars and found." — Boston Correspondence of the Salem, (Mass.) 
 Register. 
 
 'ladies' dresses, just now. 
 The French have a verb, se pavaner (derived from the 
 
 Latin for peacock,) which would be a useful transfer to our lan- 
 guage, for, by no single English word can one convey the 
 same meaning. A dashing lady, at present, with the long 
 
EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 135 
 
 train of her silk dress sweeping the sidewalk of Broadway, 
 does, certainly, for example, look as much out of place, a-foot 
 on such an uncleanly promenade, as a peacock does, among 
 such barn-door fowl as hold their tails higher up, and the 
 French would say, with perfect descriptiveness, of a lady so 
 promenading, elle se pavanait. What nature meant, by giving 
 to birds of such plumage the instinct to walk the barn -yard 
 promiscuously with the plebeian poultry more fitly feathered, 
 is as inexplicable as what ladies mean — by sweeping the 
 street with dresses only designed for the carpeted drawing- 
 room, or for those who have a carriage — but the fact is before 
 us, in nature and in the present fashion, and we need a word 
 to describe it. May we humbly propose that, to peacoc/cify, 
 shall express, hereafter, the walking abroad in a dress unsuit- 
 able to the place and its natural befallings ? 
 
TOWN GOSSIP FOE THE COTJNTEY, 
 
 (in a letter to the lady-subscriber at a distance.) 
 
 Oct. — , 1850. 
 Dear Friend :— - 
 
 I am envying you the glories of this most brilliant of the I 
 
 months — writing from the stone-coloured and dusty city as I ' 
 
 do. I wonder that I and other people, indeed, should return 
 
 to town till October is over. We fancy that Mrs, Nature is , 
 
 losing her charms, because she shrinks a little with the sudden I 
 
 change at the Equinox — but no ! Staggered as she is with I 
 
 the discovery of the lessened warmth of the Sun, (to whom 
 
 she has been faithful from the first bud given to his embrace,) » 
 
 it lasts only till she is sure that he is cooling past return, i 
 
 That certain — with the pique of wounded pride, she deter- | 
 
 mines to show that she is even lovelier than when he wooed 
 
 her in her April, and that she can have admiration from a 
 
 younger worshipper if she wants it. October, therefore, is * 
 
 what we should stay to see — Dame Nature's flirtation tvith 
 
 (136) 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 137 
 
 the Rainboio, in revenge for the desertion of the Sun— and mag- 
 nificently she looks, in the colors of the fickle coxcomb 1 
 
 ' Time and imprisoned love make not a prude, 
 And warm the gift we know to be the last." 
 
 But this is not the gossip I sat down to give you. 
 
 The newest topic I have heard discussed is the law of fash- 
 ionable propriety as to when and where ladies may go unat- 
 tended by gentlemen. It w r as suggested by a circumstance 
 that took place the other evening. A wealthy foreigner, a 
 man of rank, who is on a visit to this country, and staying at 
 one of our hotels, feeling disinclined to go to the play, his lady, 
 who wished to go, did what she might have done in Europe — 
 took her dressing maid and went without him. Her coachman 
 purchased the tickets at the box-office, but on the presentation 
 of these by the Countess and her maid, the door-keeper re- 
 . fused admittance. He had instructions to pass no unendorsed 
 angels — no ladies, unless made respectable by the company of 
 gentlemen — at that entrance of the house. 
 - This amusing refusal to admit the only titled auditor of the 
 evening, on scruples of respectability, set the uptown philos- 
 ophy to speculating on " first principles." The necessity of 
 excluding Vice is readily allowed, but why a door-keeper of a 
 theatre should not know Virtue when he sees it, and be able 
 to let in propriety and exclude impropriety, is the wonder na- 
 turally suggested by the- circumstance. In a free republic, 
 and in these enlightened days, should a lady be such a mere 
 shadow as to be able to go no-where without a gentleman ? 
 How far is this slavery advisable 7 Should not Fashionable 
 Society take the lead in disenthralling the sex — no less from 
 
138 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 inconvenient restraints than from being a needless burthen to 
 friends, brothers and husbands 1 In a land where women are 
 more honored, and better protected, than in any land on earth, 
 should there not be a national etiquette, giving them the free- 
 dom and safety of Moore's " lady with the snow-white wand ?" 
 
 These are some of the questions that have sprung from the 
 discussion, and they have been argued with more zest, from 
 the gradual Europeanizing of New York, as to the general 
 habits of the upper classes. Of late, for instance, it is not 
 considered Fifth- Avenue-able, for an unmarried young lady 
 to ride unattended in an omnibus — nor to be seen in Broad- 
 way without a carriage or servant — nor to go unchaperoned 
 to the play with a young gentleman — all of which newly for- 
 bidden things, and others of the same kind, were considerable 
 and innocent privileges of the restrained sex. The energy 
 and eloquence with which these points are argued, show that 
 the supremacy of woman in this country has brought inde- 
 pendence in its train, and that no uncomfortable usage is like- 
 ly to be copied from Europe without " trying on." 
 
 It is a pity there is not a Court of such matters, or some 
 acknowledged authority for their discussion and settlement. 
 Queen Christina instituted an order of nobility for both sexes — 
 (the Order of Amaranth) — which might be copied in this 
 country, it seems to me, with great propriety and advan- 
 tage. Hearing a very beautiful and very superior woman 
 talking of these unsettled points of etiquette, the other day, I 
 could not help wondering that such manifestly born leaders of 
 society had not found some shape of incorporation for their 
 natural authority. "Why should not a nobility of refinement 
 be founded in America, for this and like purposes — an Order 
 
TOWN GOSSIP. 139 
 
 of Amaranth for both sexes — which should decide for us the 
 difficult questions of manners and society 1 At the mere 
 mention of such a thing, one's mind suggests women who 
 would be the perfection of Amaranthians — superior in all the 
 gifts by which Nature ennobles, and sure to be acknowledged 
 even by republican acclamation, as worthy of a rank above 
 others. "Why should not " Hon." be put before their names 
 at once, on every note sent them, and written on every card 
 left at their doors, and their titles be thus conferred, by a tacit 
 and unanimous election ? I shall go and leave a card for an 
 Hon. Amaranthian, this very day ! 
 
 Nothing very new in the way of amusements, except the 
 French prima donna's hiring Astor-Place, and giving an Ope- 
 ra " on her own hook" — an experiment like giving a dinner on 
 a very well-cooked bit of beef, and leaving the vegetables to 
 be eaten raw, Madame de Vriess, herself in the part of 
 Norma, " saved a trifle," of course, by casting her husband in 
 the part of the faithless lover; and his attempts to sing Polli- 
 one's apologies to his lady-love caused the audience no little 
 merriment. Norma's chief business, in the opera, being the 
 utterance of a wronged woman's indignant reproaches, the 
 vehement bullying which she was obliged to give her husband 
 from time to time, chimed exactly with the feelings of the 
 audience towards him, and those passages were rapturously 
 encored. She must be owned to have had a kind of success, 
 however. Though hardly a note of the Opera, by the other 
 characters, was tolerably sung, there was great applause. 
 The truth was, that her own natural magnetism worked upon 
 the audience. She is a tall, well-developed, handsome wo- 
 man, with full confidence in her power of pleasing, and a pas- 
 
140 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 sionate impetuosity that made slight mistakes of no great con- 
 sequence. There are notes in her voice, that are truly admi- 
 rable, but unluckily her throat has a straw in it, here and 
 there, upon which these fine notes inevitably scraped, coming 
 or going, and just when one was ready to applaud her execu- 
 tion, one was obliged to fall to thinking of her beauty, or drop 
 altogether the illusion of the " evening's entertainment." 
 Madame de Yriess has the low forehead and dangerous-look- 
 ing eyes of Mrs. Fanny Kemble. Her only lack of superb 
 plumptitude seemed to be, strangely enough, in the joint of 
 the arm below the elbow — a fullness that I never before saw 
 a stout woman without, and which even a thin one is very apt 
 to possess, in the way of an exception to the rest of the 
 figure. As a mere prima donna, she might have a career, I 
 suppose, but it would be very necessary to keep her husband 
 behind the scenes, and be better supported. 
 
 I should have said, above, by the way, that you have little 
 to do, (you ladies,) in this country, except to preserve your 
 privileges. America is the Canaan of woman. In what other 
 country is there a " Female Medical College," like that opened 
 this month in Philadelphia ? Where else is there a " Female 
 Academy of Design," to give instruction in Drawing, free of 
 expense, to such women as have not the health for other 
 means of livelihood, or such as have more talent for the pen- 
 cil than the needle 1 . This latter (also in Philadelphia) is an 
 Institution every one should know of, and commend, for it 
 tends, more than any other, directly to elevate the condition 
 of the sex. It was founded, (and $50,000 were raised to en- 
 dow it) by the indefatigable energy and generous self-devotion 
 of one ivoman — whom all women, and all men who respect 
 
TOWN GO SSI?. 141 
 
 women, should profoundly honor. This is only one of her 
 charitable deeds, but it is alone enough to dignify a life and 
 embalm its memory. Drawing and designing, as perhaps you 
 know, is an extensive trade. The patterns for carpets, for 
 manufactured goods, for the paper of upholsterers, for. title- 
 pages, for the various demand upon engravers, &c, occupy a 
 very large class of industrials in Europe, and we have, hither- 
 to, been obliged to send across the water for all of such de- 
 signs as were wanted in this country. It was upon this prac- 
 tical basis — seeing, at the same time, the fitness of the more 
 retired and delicate sex for its tasteful labors — that the bene- 
 volent " Sister of Mercy," whom I speak of, founded the 
 " Female Academy of Design." There should be one like it 
 in every city of the Union. 
 
 Since I have been writing to you, I have glanced my eye 
 over a morning paper, and noticed the following passage in a 
 letter from Paris : — 
 
 " A very curious incident, which caused much sensation, (for it was 
 a study of manners for those who knew not it was customary in the 
 United States,) was the arrival of a young gentleman of New- York, 
 having charge of two young ladies, who were the sisters of one of his 
 friends. The freedom of these young ladies, the confidence of the fa- 
 ther in the honor of the young man who was their protector in their 
 European tour — everything created much sensation, and it was the 
 cause of much gossip. Be assured that no father, nor mother, in 
 France, would thus surrender their daughters into the hands of a 
 young man. Of course the honor is in favor of the United States." — 
 Herald. 
 
 Now — very extraordinary as it is in Europe for unmarried 
 ladies to be for a moment alone with young gentlemen — no- 
 
142 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 thing is considered a " safer investment," in America, than 
 for single men to have the charge of single ladies at theatres, 
 on journeys, or wherever else " a beau" is honorably needed. 
 But this — or any other custom of a country — may be ridiculed 
 out, or driven out by affectation and fashion ; and the question 
 for American ladies is, first, whether this freedom for woman 
 is a desirable difference from the European standard, and se- 
 cond, whether some pains should not be taken, (if so,) to con- 
 firm it. Seeing how well " it works" in this country, where 
 women are far more virtuous than in Europe, I should res- 
 pectfully counsel a continuance of " the largest liberty." 
 What say, my dear friend and reader ? 
 
 Wishing to stop where I can leave you with some thinking 
 to do, I write myself abruptly, 
 
 Your servant and friend. 
 
SECOND HOMAGE TO THE AMERICAN 
 AEI8T0CEA0Y. 
 
 The first recognition of the fact that The Many were the 
 aristocracy of this country — not The Eew — was made by Jen- 
 ny Lind. Though a political economist would have long ago told 
 us, that, in a land where every body is tolerably well off, the bulk 
 of the money must be in the pockets of The People — and that 
 The People, therefore, must have the best of everything — no 
 business seemed to be done upon the idea, except in the sup- 
 ply of the first wants — that is to say, by hotels, public convey- 
 ances, 03 r ster- cellars, tailors and hatters. Opera-singers per- 
 sisted in blindly offering their luxuries to the same class as in 
 Europe — to The Eew. So did " stars" of every description — 
 [though the class they wish to reach, the class who had $5 to 
 ispare, (call them the Eive-dollae.-Billers for the sake of clas- 
 sification), were in thousands unappealed to. In point of fact, 
 
 there is another difference between this country and Europe. 
 
 ' (143) 
 
144 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 The true Five-dollar-Billers — those who are always ready to 
 
 expend that much upon a pleasure — are not The Few in 
 
 f 
 America. Rich people, with us, are reluctant payers for every 
 
 thing that is not exclusively their own private splendor. It 
 is the pocket of healthy competency, that alone needs no 
 special laxative to bring away a five dollar bill. " The Many," 
 therefore, are the true customers in this country, even for 
 opera-singers, and the costliest givers of public pleasure — 
 while, in England and France, the willingness to spend that 
 amount readily, is found only among the wealthy and fash- 
 ionable. 
 
 The first offer, we repeat, of the highest pleasure of Luxury 
 to its true American market — the first collecting together of the 
 reliable Five-dollar-Billers — was at the late Concerts at Castle 
 Garden : — nine thousand in an audience on one night, at five 
 dollars a seat, and, we venture to say,feiver regretting pockets 
 than in an Astor-place audience of four hundred and fifty, 
 with the tickets at one dollar " and fifty cents." 
 
 And now let us look at the second application of this Jenny 
 Lind discovery : — 
 
 The most exclusive and aristocratic luxury of England is 
 The Club. The club houses, (the building of the latest of | 
 which cost four hundred thousand dollars — £80,000,) are the 
 inner sanctuaries of rank, wealth, station and fashion. Young ' 
 noblemen's names are put down for membership when they are i 
 in the cradle, and they are sometimes on the list for twenty 
 years, before vacancies occur which permit them to be ballot- 
 ted for. The least stain upon their conduct as gentlemen — I 
 recognised by a single black ball in the ballot-box — excludes ; 
 them, and inflicts indelible disgrace upon their standing in so- 1 
 
HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 145 
 
 olety. None are admitted except men of what are considered 
 " gentlemanly pursuits"— even merchants being excluded, un- 
 less they are " bankers," or have some family title or other 
 distinction. Of course, while a man would hardly be consid- 
 ered a gentlemen at the " West End" unless he belonged to 
 one of the " crack Clubs, 1 ' a membership of one of them estab- 
 lishes his title to that name — and Clubs thus become the 
 privileged luxury of Aristocracy. 
 
 But this " institution" must be brought over, like every other 
 European Luxury, to New York — and here it is — a splendid 
 Club house, just completed, fob, the American Aristocracy 
 — open, that is to say, to every man who chooses to pay tivelve 
 dollars a year to become a member. The following description 
 of it, we compile from the two or three accounts of its first 
 opening, in the daily papers : — 
 
 The New York Athensum.— Under this name an elegant suite of 
 rooms has been opened at 663 Broadway, in the building of the 
 National Academy 'of Design, to be used by subscribers for the purposes 
 of reading and conversation. The rooms are three in number, and are 
 separated from each other by semi-partitions and rich curtains. First 
 in order is the conversation-room, which is handsomely fitted up with 
 lounges and rocking-chairs, and hung with a rich tapestry. This room, 
 intended for conversation and smoking, is forty-five feet by tbirty-five, 
 and twenty-one feet high, decorated in the style of the halls in the old 
 Norman Castles. The second room, intended for chess playing, is in 
 the style of an Oriental Tent, in consideration of tbe Oriental origin 
 of the game of chess. The third room is fifty-five feet by forty-five, and 
 is in the style of architecture known as the Renaissance. The ceiling 
 contains four landscapes, representing the old stage coach, the railway, 
 the steam-boat and telegraph — four charming pictures. This room is 
 
 7 
 
146 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 by far the largest, and its appointings are truly sumptuous. The car- 
 pet is one of the richest we have eyer seen ; the central chandelier? 
 with its ornamental globes and thousand glass pendants, diffuses a 
 brilliant yet softened light through the apartment; the ceiliug ia 
 frescoed in delicate wreaths of flowers surrounded by gilded mouldings j 
 the walls are clothed with a rich figured velvet paper, and the windows 
 hung with heavy crimson drapery ; the lounges, sofas and rocking-chairs 
 are of plush, corresponding in colour with the curtains, and the whole 
 effect is that of the drawing-room of a palace. Indeed, the architect (Mr. 
 Peterson) having been exiled by royalty from Germany, seems to have 
 studied to reproduce the palace-chambers of Europe in the new world" 
 Among the fixtures of this room are two beautifully ornamented fire- 
 places, with mantels #f cast-iron and plate glass, furnished by Chilson, 
 Allen, "Walker & Co. The reading-room will be supplied with the leading 
 newspapers and periodicals of every nation and language, and will be 
 kept with the utmost regard to neatness, promptness, and order. 
 
 How the Five-dollar-Billers will behave, with their new 
 luxury — how a sumptuous Club " will do," that is open to all 
 — is, of course, the problem of forthcoming solution. The 
 leaving out of the English feature of an eating-and -drinking- 
 room, will doubtless obviate its principal liability to abuse. 
 The smokiDg, (we should, perhaps, venture to say,) would 
 have been wisely left out, for the same reason. There should 
 be no ministration to any taste shared by the class known as 
 " rowdies." For only reading and conversation, few are likely 
 to frequent it, except such as it would be agreeable to meet, 
 while a cigar with an easy chair (and spit-box) in a splendid 
 apartment — good society and the name of the thing included — • 
 might be worth twelve dollars a year to a blackguard. Ex- 
 periment will best weigh this objection against the enjoyment 
 
 3 
 
 : 
 
HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 147 
 
 of a cigar, however, and we speak « without book," not being 
 ourself a smoker. 
 
 One suggestion we will make, to the proprietors, and we do 
 it, not without deference, and not without a precedent. The 
 London Athenaeum Club, soon after its formation, gave a tea- 
 party, once a iveelc, to the ladies. Any member was allowed to 
 bring three, and he paid, according to the tariff of the club 
 for what they ate and drank. It was exceedingly popular 
 while it lasted, and many thought they were the most agree- 
 able parties in London — but some jealousies, of attentions to 
 the novel belles who were thus introduced, soon set the Dow- 
 agers to work, and they voted it " unfashionable," and sue 
 ceeded in putting down an arena where things were not sub- 
 ject to their own invitations. 
 
 But this tyrannical exclusiveness could not (or need not be 
 permitted to) exert its influence over an American Club, and 
 we should say that one evening a week for the ladies would 
 work charmingly. Society, to a man of the world, is like 
 botany — the best specimens are not found in fenced gardens, 
 and Nature drops down her sweetest flowers — may be in the 
 least expected places. The five hundred thousand inhabitants 
 of New York are a wilderness, in which grows every known 
 variety of the human soul. The rare plants are widely scat- 
 tered, and require wide ranging, to be found ; and there is as 
 likely to be a priceless development of woman in the Ninth 
 Avenue as in the Fifth. To a party where were courtesy and 
 appreciation for all — to a republican tea-party on open and 
 neutral ground — such " happy accidents of Nature," whom 
 we need to see and know more of, would come by the attrac- 
 tion of a certain selective magnetism. The Athenaeum would 
 
148 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 thus become, (to continue our similitude,) the invaluable 
 herbarium of New York. Turn the idea over in your mind ! 
 
 But, (if the Proprietors will excuse us for expressing any 
 disparagement of the announced objects of the establishment,) 
 we should rely little, for its success, upon reading, chess,' con- 
 versation and smoking. It will be principally valuable to gentle- 
 men, as a place of appointment and intervieiv, and on this wheel 
 we think its prosperity will run. Such a resort — an evening 
 exchange for. gentlemen — is very much wanted. The dis- 
 tance between private residences, and the inconvenience of re- 
 ceiving and making drawing-room calls, at hours when custom 
 exacts rather a ceremonious visit if any, are difficulties which 
 interrupt much of the friendly intercourse between gentlemen 
 — intercourse, (let us add,) which is very necessary to the main- 
 tenance of gentlemanly standards, and the culture of manly 
 principles and character. The central position of the Athenseum, 
 (for it is on the way to every place of amusement,) favors this 
 use of its spacious and elegant rooms, and we only wish, that, 
 in its structure, there were something like library niches or 
 alcoves, into which one could retire for chat with a friend, 
 without disturbing others within earshot. 
 
 One little economy, of time, memory and shoe-leather, let 
 us suggest, in connection with this establishment. In London, 
 it is the usage, to leave cards for bachelors, at their clubs. 
 Now, the civility of pasteboard is necessary for established 
 reasons, and the lodgings of artists, authors, the pressditti, 
 and others who are not born with a front door of their own, 
 are often very difficult to find. Let these, our troubadour 
 acquaintances, put " Athenseum" as the address on their cards, 
 however, and the difficulty vanishes. Notes can be sent to them, 
 
 
HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 149 
 
 there, also. And, for these purposes, the Club will require 
 its little Post-office, with alphabetical boxes for members. 
 
 We presume, also, that in accordance with the usage of 
 Clubs abroad, members will have the right of introducing 
 strangers to a gratuitous use of the Club privileges during 
 their stay in town. 
 
 Those who have known, by frequentation of the " Cafe 
 Grceco," at Bome, how delightful the society of artists is, 
 where they are in the habit of meeting without reserve, 
 will doubtless hope, with us, that the Athenaeum may prove 
 such an " exchange," for them and those who love them. 
 Their un-sordid and beauty-studying brains are the salt 
 wanted in this boiling pot of the Californian vegetable. "We 
 have wondered ourself dumb, why the appreciating sex have 
 Hot made artists, intellectual and refined creatures as they 
 always are, the upper class of favorites in New- York society ; 
 but since accomplished heels please better than accomplished 
 heads — since the ladies will not seek and prefer the company 
 of the students of beauty — let our own sex have a place 
 where we can take Nature's rejected gift and make much of 
 it. "We could say more on this last theme, but, in " fast 
 America," hints are enough. 
 
THE TOWN, JUST NOW. 
 
 The season of the year that would bo delicate to allude to 
 if the year felt as mankind do about growing old — the brief 
 summer, that would fain seem like a continuation of the sum- 
 mer that was past, is nearly over. The trees are shedding 
 their flowing locks ; the branches look thin, and unwilling to 
 be seen; the days get tired of being pleasant, by twelve 
 o'clock ; and all, except the sky above, looks cold and unin- 
 viting. In time of life, and time of year, this is alike " the 
 Fall." 
 
 Never was Broadway so crowded, apparently. If it were 
 suddenly brought to a stand-still and petrified, you might walk 
 from Grace Church to the Battery, either on the tops of om- 
 nibuses or the heads of the people. The private equipages 
 of the Known have hardly yet made their appearance, but the 
 great number of new turn-outs with gay liveries, whose Un- 
 knowns are yet to be identified by Mr. Brown, show that for- 
 
 150 
 
THE TOWN, JUST NOW. 151 
 
 tunes have been made since Spring, and that the ranks of 
 fashion are to be recruited. Cigar-shops multiply. Every 
 corner of a street is being let for a bar-room. Ladies are be- 
 ginning to walk without dodging the puffs of the smoking 
 promenaders. Bananas and pomegranates look quite at 
 home in the windows of the fruit shops. Broadway is more 
 and more paved, and very good houses are more and more 
 pulled down to obstruct the sidewalk. 
 
 Society is not yet astir, except by droppings-in. As far as 
 can be gathered from the little talk over the coming campaign, 
 there is a probability of evening receptions for both sexes — 
 the morning " At-Homes," (of course for ladies only,) being 
 generally pronounced tiresome. There is great speculation — 
 so many of our up-tovvners have been abroad — as to the Pa- 
 risianisms that will be introduced into society this winter. An 
 effort will doubtless be made to bring out the married men, 
 and try the novelty of a circle that is not strictly adolescent. 
 Balls and routs,, more expensive than ever, of course there 
 will be — but unpretentious soirees are much discussed and 
 hoped for, (like some of the most exclusive ones in London,) 
 where tea is served to you, as you enter, by the housekeeper 
 in the cloak room, and, of any further hunger or thirst, there 
 is neither supposition nor supply. This last fashion would 
 enable persons of delicate health, or of moderate means, to 
 gather about them what might be considered the choicest so- 
 ciety of the time. 
 
 But, the city's breath is quite taken away at the present 
 moment, with the expectation of the coming wonders. What 
 is to be done with Kossuth ? To reply, at all sufficiently, to 
 the speeches that will be made to him, he would need to bo 
 
152 THE RAG BAG. 
 
 a "Webster or an Everett — even if English were his native 
 tongue. How will he respond to the oratory of Mayors and 
 committees ? How will so modest and sensible a hero stand 
 all the procession-izing and receiving, shouting and hand-sha- 
 king ? How will one man's heart beat back a response to the 
 hearts of six hundred thousand people in this city, longing to 
 put their arms around his neck 1 He is a mortal man, and in 
 delicate health. "We sincerely think, that, among other mu- 
 nicipal arrangements for his reception, there should be a phy- 
 sician appointed to accompany him, from morning till night, 
 and withdraw him from the crowd at the first symptom of 
 brain fever. 
 
 Then Sontag — the Countess Rossi — has agreed to open her 
 ennobled throat to us, for half a million of dollars and a third 
 of all profits over and above ! The bond for this is signed 
 and sealed, it is authentically stated. She will arrive in 
 dumbfoundered New York, some time between this and 
 Christmas. From the year 1827, when she made her first 
 appearance, to the year 1851, is a good while for a throat to 
 stay enchanting — but so it does, or every critic of London 
 and Paris has written a fib. That she retains her good looks 
 — or, at least, that she was palely plump, and that her blue 
 eyes looked undimmed between two heaps of profuse flaxen 
 ringlets, four or five years ago — we can ourself certify, having 
 seen her in her Opera-box at Berlin, from the nearest point in 
 the pit. (Her husband, perhaps the reader knows, was Am- 
 bassador at the Court of Prussia, and the Countess was, for 
 the same period, its reigning belle.) She dresses enchanting- 
 ly, and, with her Court history as a back-ground to her beau- 
 ty, will be attractive to see, at least — whatever may be thought 
 
THE TOWN, JUST NOW. I53 
 
 of the money's worth she gives the ear. She will offer one 
 advantage, by the way, that will not be " down in the bills" 
 — it will be instructive, in this country of early-giving-up, to 
 see how a woman of forty-five can look as young as at 
 twenty. 
 
 Pischek and Thalberg are coming with Sontag — both 
 great lions in their way. Pischek was singing with Jenny 
 Lind, when we first heard her in Germany, and we do not re- 
 member being very much delighted with him then, though, of 
 course, from the association, he is an artist of the first class. 
 Thalberg is a glorious composer, and, to see him at the piano 
 will be like seeing a dramatist perform in his own play — the 
 reality in what is usually but the shadow. 
 
 Pruit and strangers all the year round, at New York, are 
 among the pleasant results of faster paddles and locomotives. 
 This used to be the time of year when the hotels began to 
 shorten their tables, and visiters from a distance started to 
 make their journeys home while the weather was comfortable 
 to travel. Now, you may see a "Western man, with his hat on 
 the back of his head, a Southerner with his indolent walk, or 
 a Canadian with his thick boots and tight-bottomed trousers, 
 at any time of the year — as you may find bananas and pome- 
 granates when you please, and plums and peaches long before 
 the old fashioned season. This is a cessation of tax-paying 
 to Cold and Heat, and a release from the tyranny of King 
 Latitude, which would doubtless have been preceded by a 
 very smart Declaration of Independence, if it had not come 
 about so gradually. 
 
 The next most numerous things to omnibuses, at present, 
 in the middle of the streets, are large bands of music, with 
 7*- 
 
154: THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 small military companies behind them.* A census of the 
 drums in active employment, on any one day, in New York, 
 would astonish Europe. With no war in very imminent 
 prospect, it is curious how all the spare time of the youthful 
 population of the city seems devoted to " training," and it is 
 a question whether this perpetual martial music, in the ears 
 of our citizens, will not " raise a blister," which it will re- 
 quire a war to puncture, at some early day. 
 
 We sat down to write of several matters which we have not 
 yet mentioned, but we are encroaching upon other articles, 
 and must reserve them. 
 
 * The difference of amount in the two commodities — music and sol- 
 diers — should perhaps be explained. First, the immigration of Germans 
 is at present very large, and, as there is no German, high or low, who 
 cannot play some musical instrument, bands are easily formed, and the 
 competition mates military music cheap and plenty. Second, the natu- 
 ral disposition of Americans being to command, the military companies 
 are composed principally of officers, and the privates are so few and un- 
 willing as to be frequently outnumbered by the band. 
 
UPPEEMOST TOWN TOPICS. 
 
 The electric attention of a vast city, passes with lightning 
 suddenness, from one subject to another, yet its impressions, 
 brief as they are, are sometimes so marked and memorable as 
 to be proper matters of record. The three almost simultaneous 
 deaths of eminent men, a few days since, awoke a general and 
 profound feeling of solemnity. The Destroyer has seldom 
 made a swoop so conspicuous. The first of our merchants, 
 and two of the most distinguished of our physicians, were 
 announced as dead, almost as the news of one day. Aside 
 from sympathy with relatives and friends, the sudden stop of 
 influence and power, by the departure of three such men from 
 life is very startling. Mr. Gardiner Howland was a man who 
 lived in the exercise of large influence. As one of the wealth- 
 iest of our citizens, he had the power which the world at pre- 
 sent most recognizes, and he had qualities of character which 
 made his varied exercise of this power a blessing to his fellow- 
 
 (155) 
 
156 
 
 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 men. Of the void left by the death of eminent physicians, 
 every one knows the calamitous extent. JDr. Kearney Rodgers, 
 and Dr. Granville Patterson, — both apparently in the full pos- 
 session of health but a short time before, and both men whose 
 minds were storehouses of good to their fellow-men — were 
 struck down in a day. Of the one of these two distinguished 
 men, whom we personally knew, we have made mention in 
 another column, and we pass to other topics — our only purpose, 
 at present, being to record the manner in which the tumul- 
 tuous pulse of this vast city was stilled, for a moment, by 
 these three announcements of an hour. 
 
 The presence of the Hungarians is perhaps the most mani- 
 fest point of novelty in the city. One has to make some effort to 
 remember what Kossuth continually refers to as " the princi- 
 ples they represent," in meeting them on an every day 
 sidewalk. Our expectation of what heroes are to look like, is 
 formed by seeing them on the stage, or with the still more 
 glowing illusion of our own imaginations ; and, spite of rea- 
 son, we are disappointed with ordinary -looking individuals. 
 The fine actions and sacrifices of these Hungarian exiles are 
 not visible in their half-embarrassed, half-wondering counte- 
 nances ; and the little black feather stuck in the hat — the only 
 special difference of costume — is not enough to redeem the 
 commonplaceness, to the eye. They are not strikingly supe- 
 rior-looking men either, and there is some disappointment 
 expressed as to their physiognomies. One puts them on their 
 pedestals again, however, upon getting home, and reading of 
 the Magyars and Kossuth, and they have only to go to the 
 West, like the sun, and they will color up again brilliantly as 
 they get to the distance of the horizon. 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 157 
 
 In the newpaper life of the city, the latest event of mark is the 
 late semi-centennial biography of the Evening Post, given to 
 its readers and the public from the pen of Bryant. We shall 
 find room for a digest of the principal facts. This journal has 
 always maintained a consistent and uniform vigor, (to say 
 what even political opponents would probably allow) and its 
 friends would give it much more praise than this. The memoir of 
 its past fifty years of existence is very interestingly written by 
 Bryant. 
 
 In the daily chronicle of philanthropy, and its bearings and 
 belongings, the newest record is the medal presented to Mr. 
 Henry Grinnell, by twelve British Residents, as commemora- 
 tive of his Franklin munificence. Mr. G. has been so obstinate 
 in receiving no honors for his act in this matter, that they 
 were obliged to hunt him down, in his counting-room, where 
 they finally found him, and presented the medal. It represents his 
 two vessels surrounded by the ice, and -the reverse bears this 
 inscription : — " The British Residents of New-York to Henry 
 Grinnell, in grateful admiration of his noble effort to save Sir 
 John Franklin. 
 
 'Tis thine to feel another's woe, 
 And ours to mark the sacred glow." 
 
 The date of the year is then added. This circumstance has 
 been a good deal noticed, but as our readers are mostly those 
 who do not see the daily papers, and it is salutary to make 
 such things generally known, we hazard repeating it. 
 
PRIVATE HABITS AND MANNEES OF 
 JENNY LIND. 
 
 If it were revealed to us that God had sent an angel to 
 earth, upon a mission of charity which required money to 
 fulfil — and if we were to recognize the identity and presence 
 of that angel, by the good which is being done, the pure cha- 
 racter of the ministering agent, and the celestial simplicity of 
 the substitute for a letter of credit — who would hesitate to 
 see these three identifications in the charities, the purity, and 
 the voice of Jenny Lind ? In most of the eminence and dis- 
 tinction of this world, there is some lifted corner of the envel- 
 oping robe of glory which discloses an under garment " of 
 the earth, earthy." In Jenny Lind's character, as well as in 
 her schemes of benevolence, there seems no enveloping motive 
 or purpose, which would not serve purely for an angel's 
 wear. Before showing — (as some chance information enables 
 us to do) — where the hem of the Swedish angel's unsoiled 
 
 (158) 
 
JENNY LIND. 159 
 
 robe of conduct touches the ground, let us refresh the memo- 
 ry of the reader with the view of her brilliant cestus of good 
 works, as outlined in the letter of the gentleman who has en- 
 gaged her to sing in this country : — ^ 
 
 "It is well known that Jenny Lind never received less than $2,000 
 per night for her own personal services, in Manchester, Edinburgh, 
 Glasgow, Dublin, and the provincial towns in England, and that she 
 frequently received $3,000 per night. My agent saw an offer to 
 her of $30,000, to sing twelve nights in England, which she declined ; 
 also, an enormous offer for the grand Concerts at the Imperial Court 
 of Kussia, an offer nearly double that of my own, which she, for rea- 
 sons, also declined. She was offered $6,000 to sing in one concert, to 
 be given at the Great World's Convention of Arts and Manufactures, 
 in Hyde Park, London, in 1851. It was farther intimated to her, from 
 Queen Victoria, that her services would be desired at about the same 
 period, in a contemplated grand sacred festival, at Westminster Abbey, 
 where the tickets will be held from $25 to $100 each. Both of these 
 last offers she was induced to decline, in consequence of her desire to 
 visit America, as proposed by my agent. ' 
 
 "Miss Lind has numerous better offers than the one she has 
 accepted from me ; but she has a great anxiety to visit America ; 
 she speaks of this country and its institutions in the highest 
 terms of rapture and praise, and as money is by no means the greatest 
 inducement that can be laid before her, she has determined to visit 
 us. In her engagement with me, (which engagement includes Ha- 
 vana, as well as the United States,) she expressly reserves the right to 
 give charitable concerts whenever she thinks proper. v 
 
 " Since her debut in England, she has given to the poor, from her 
 own private purse, more than the whole amount which I have engaged 
 to give her, and the proceeds of concerts for charitable purposes in 
 Great Britain, where she has sung gratuitously, have realized more 
 than ten times that amount. * 
 
160 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 " For the last eight months, she has been singing entirely gratuitously 
 for charitable purposes ; and she is now founding a benevolent institu- 
 tion in Stockholm, her native city, at a cost of $350,000. <J 
 
 " A visit from such a woman, who regards her high artistic powers 
 as a gift from Heaven, for the amelioriation of affliction and distress, 
 and whose every thought and deed is philanthropy, I feel persuaded 
 will prove a blessing to America, as she has to every country which 
 she has visited, and I feel every confidence that my countrymen and 
 women will join me heartily in saying ' may God bless her.' "^ 
 
 With this really sublime view of her exercise of power 
 (through her gold-commanding gift of credit from God,) let 
 us now contrast the striking and yet philosophically con- 
 sistent humilities of a glimpse at her ordinary life. *' 
 
 During her two years' engagements in London, Jenny Lind 
 hired the suburban residence of a stout and worthy citizen, 
 taking his furniture, his carriage and coachman, his servants 
 and house belongings, of all descriptions, on rent. The only 
 addition that she made to the usual service of the establish- 
 ment, was the attendance of an English chaplain, who, upon 
 the open lawn of the garden, whenever the weather would any 
 way permit, or otherwise in the drawing-room, performed the 
 devotions of the English Church for the assembled household. 
 The coachman, as is the custom in England, had accommoda- 
 tions for his family in a wing of the stables ; and his wife, the 
 mother of two or three young children, was employed as 
 " washer and ironer." "While, with proffers of attention and 
 acquaintance from the rank and fashion of London, the fair 
 Swede was unavailingly beset — a kind of tribute to her genius 
 and character which she consistently and unvaryingly refused 
 — the family of the honest coachman were commonly enjoying 
 
 
JENNY LIND. 161 
 
 the much sought privilege. While Duchesses and Countesses 
 were being refused at her door, she was oftenest seated in the 
 centre of the haymow, her favorite resort for every hour of 
 leisure, tending the coachman's baby, or teaching the older 
 ones to read ! On this humble family all her every-day affec- 
 tions seemed to be expended. When away, concert-singing 
 at Birmingham or Liverpool, she wrote to them daily, as if to 
 her own family, and with a tenderness of broken English 
 which was as touching as it was curious. These letters were 
 lent and shown to the neighbors and others, and the friend (of 
 our own) who had seen them and gives us these particulars, 
 says that no daughter could have written home more familiar- 
 ly and affectionately. The coachman's wife still wears, 
 stitched to the sleeve of the calico gown in which she works, 
 and changed and re stitched carefully to every dress she puts 
 on, a most costly diamond bracelet, her parting keepsake from 
 Jenny Lind ! It would be a hard extremity of poverty that 
 would induce her to part with it. v/ 
 
 The famous opera singer had been more than a year the 
 
 tenant of Mr. C , and the staid and elderly citizen had 
 
 never seen her. He had his lodgings in town, near his place 
 of business, and he sent his clerk to Brompton quarterly to 
 receive the rent, replying, with a bluff disavowal of all know- 
 ledge of opera-singers, to such of his friends as made the na- 
 tural inquiries of curiosity. Some question occurring, how- 
 ever, at one of these quarterly settlements which an agent 
 could not very well dispose of, it became necessary that Mr. 
 C should call on his tenant In person. The stout land- 
 lord's account of his visit very much amused his friends. He 
 had expected an uncomfortable degree of pretension and cere- 
 
162 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 mony. The servant at the door showed his old master to the 
 drawing-room, and the next minute " Miss Lind" came run- 
 ning in from the garden, with dress unhooked behind, hair 
 not very smooth, (these particulars are second-hand from the 
 first narrator,) and as cordial as the oldest friend he had in the 
 world. She seized him by his two hands, crowded him down 
 into a large arm-chair, insisted upon knowing why he had not 
 been to see her during the long time she had been in his 
 house, and finally seated herself on the floor at his feet, to talk 
 over matters. Quite overcome with this last condescension, 
 the deep-down chivalry of the honest Englishman was aroused, 
 and, dropping on one knee, he declared that he could not sit 
 in a chair while she sat on the floor. At this, the unceremo- 
 nious Jenny jumped up, and, taking Mr. C.'s two hands, drew 
 him to a window seat, and squeezed herself (for he is a very 
 fat man) into the recess by his side — "and a very tight 
 squeeze it was," added the old gentleman in telling the story. 
 Here she pulled from her pocket contract and receipts, and 
 proceeded to business, which was soon settled ; and the land- 
 lord took his leave, delighted with Jenny Lind, but not quite 
 sure that he had been in possession of his senses V 
 
 Just before the celebrated singer left this residence, a lady 
 who had been brought in contact with her by some circum- 
 stance of neighborhood, and who had conceived a strong affec- 
 tion for her, asked, one day, something as a keepsake, Jenny 
 flew to her dressing room and brought down jewels and costly 
 articles of dress, and eagerly begged her to choose any thing 
 she possessed ; but an article of value was not what the lady 
 wished or could accept. It was with the greatest difficulty 
 that the impulsive Swede could be made to agree to let the 
 
JENNY LIND. 163 
 
 keepsake consist of only the bouquet of flowers that she had 
 worn in " La Fille du Regiment." Her generosity and sim- 
 plicity seem beyond taint or qualification by knowledge of the 
 world./ 
 
 The above particulars, showing the admired celebrity off 
 her pedestal, as they do, will by no means diminish the inter- 
 est of her reception in America. The qualities of character 
 which they reveal, are appreciated, and earnestly looked for, 
 by the largest and best class of our country people — the un- 
 ostentatious and plain-hearted. Her coming among us will 
 be that year's most noted event, in all probability, and we 
 only trust that a prophetess, whose whole mission, with her 
 gold-amassing powers, seems one of pure benevolence, may 
 not be disparaged, for her humble simplicities of ordinary life 
 — as was the prophet Elisha, for healing Naaman with the 
 humble waters of Israel, when " Abana and Pharpar," the 
 more aristocratic waters of Damascus, would have been so 
 much more " in keeping with his character." 
 
OEATIONS AND $100 
 
 Men of genius have not the faculty of making money — en- 
 joying their mental superiority, as Shenstone says, " in lieu 
 of most temporal advantages." So the giraffe, made the tall- 
 est of animals that he may feed on foliage out of the reach of 
 lesser creatures, stoops with so much difficulty to the ground, 
 that he would starve where sheep find good grazing. Wiser 
 than poets, it is true, the giraffes retire befqre the levelling 
 axe and low-growing products of thick population — haunting 
 only where their proper sustenance abounds and suffices. But, 
 by the great human principle of compensation, which makes 
 those who see lend a hand to the blind, and those who have 
 homes give hospitality to the stranger, these inequalities of 
 dispensation should be equalized by the kind care and fore- 
 thought of those who chance to be more favorably endowed; 
 and this brings us to what we wish to suggest, touching 
 
 (164) 
 
OEATIONS AND $100. 165 
 
 a duty of the money-making public toward less thrifty men 
 of genius. ' 
 
 If it were a custom to send a committee to a painter, to 
 ^compliment him with a request that he would use his next 
 fortnight in painting a picture for a society of wealthy per- 
 sons for nothing — if to a cabinet-maker to request a present of 
 a book-case, the fortnight's labor, in making which, would be 
 paid for with the same complimentary equivalent — if to a car- 
 penter, a mason, a jeweller, flatteringly demanding a two 
 weeks' use of their skill and tools, for the honor of the service 
 only — either of these requests would be as reasonable as the 
 habitual call upon literary men for gratuitous orations before 
 societies and at celebrations and anniversaries. It is because 
 men of genius are not capable of money-making — in other 
 words are too proud and delicate to put a price upon what 
 they do, and chaffer for the pay — that this unfair taking of 
 advantage has grown into a usage, and is practised, with 
 most unsuspecting extortion, by the honorable committees of 
 every possible society and institution. What a fortnight's 
 labor is worth, when prepared for by ten or fifteen years of 
 expensive education, and what the additional celebrity, to a 
 literary man, of addressing a society, is worth, are the two 
 commodities between which the difference is to be struck ; 
 and (estimated by the standard at which lawyers rate their 
 time and previously acquired knowledge,) five hundred dol- 
 lars would not more than equalize a public oration's price and 
 value. 
 
 It is not in the light of a staple or commodity, that it is 
 necessary to regard such productions, however. Genius will 
 continue to be too proud to exact its due, and, though not 
 
166 THE EAG-BAG. 
 
 made a whit more distinguished or famous by addressing an 
 audience, will be willing still to take the honor at a commit- 
 tee's valuation. The only remedy is to correct the popular 
 error on the subject, and make associations of gentlemen so 
 aware of the imposition thus thoughtlessly practised, that they 
 will be ashamed to repeat it. To offer a literary man a com- 
 pensation — one hundred dollars at the very least — for an ora- 
 tion upon any subject which can gather an audience, would 
 be, besides a delicate and unburthensome way of supplying 
 means and occupation to this worst paid of the professions. 
 The reader's mind will at once revert to a number of men of 
 genius, living among us without any continued and reliable 
 pursuit, to whom such a custom would supply a resource that 
 is (hospitably and honoring) their due from those among 
 whom they are, in one sense, strangers. We are a great peo- 
 ple at finding work for orators, and fonder of gregarious ex- 
 citements and impulses than any other nation ; and we should 
 like it to be an American glory that genius here, (first in the 
 history of the world,) found ready appreciation and generous 
 guardianship against the injustices to which it is liable. 
 
 
 • 
 
"AMEEICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 
 
 [An article which appeared in The Home Journal a week or two ago, 
 on the subject of " Opera Manners," has brought upon us a great many 
 requests, verbal and epistolary, for farther criticisms on American man- 
 ners. It is an invidious task, however, and one by which one seems to 
 setup his own judgment in such matters as authority — an assumption 
 which we are very far from making — but we undertake it in the hope 
 that it will make our paper more interesting, and, we trust that those 
 who have had the same advantages of travel and observation as we, will 
 not object to our thus lending the benefit of common experience to those 
 who have not. In our next paper we shall give a third article, on the 
 inappreciative neglect of middle-aged women in this country.] 
 
 We wish to express a doubt that we have long felt, whe- 
 ther Woman is essentially complimented by the undiscrimin- 
 ating and ceremonious deference to the sex which is so often 
 i spoken of as the " American homage to woman." We venture 
 ito believe that when there is less of it — as there will be, in the 
 progress of national refinement — the standard of female dignity 
 
 (167) 
 
168 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 will be higher, and the comfort of the cultivated and respect- 
 worthy portion of the sex, in its ordinary intercourse with our 
 own, very much greater. This is a delicate matter to find 
 fault with — the national pride, in a peculiarity of such frequent 
 complimentary mention, being a very sweet morsel under the 
 popular tongue — but we are sure that one serves his country 
 well by probing any superficial unsoundness in its ripening 
 manners, before it has time to deepen to the core ; and the 
 " Judicious Pew," at least, (at whose approval The Home 
 Journal is aimed, though sometimes with great venture of 
 the disapproval of " The Many,") will think it not an undue 
 invasion of phtribus-wnum-ivaity, if we enquire upon what the 
 American politeness to woman is founded, and how it bears 
 on the comfort of our wives and daughters. 
 
 Johnson, in one of his works, uses the phrase " discriminative 
 life" as synonymous with " polite life ;" and we take it that 
 the trouble and embarrassment of making the discriminations 
 which constitute true politeness, would always be willingly 
 got rid of, by a selfish man, or by a sensitively vain and under- 
 bred man, or by a man who, (like most of our expeditious 
 countrymen, in any case of embarrassed distinctions,) jump- 
 ed at once to the conclusion that " the shortest way was 
 to lump it." * 
 
 * Not directly apropos, but near enough to read very pleasantly, our 
 friend and partner, Morris, tells us an amusing instance of the lumping 
 of difficult politeness, in the following story : — 
 
 Mr. Gilfert, the former manager of the Bowery, having advertised, at 
 one time, for original plays, and receiving, in consequence, a very great \ 
 number, was, for a year or two afterwards, exceedingly troubled with | 
 the visits of disappointed authors calling for their productions. Being 
 in the habit of keeping his papers very loosely, he could never lay his 
 
 
"AMEKICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 169 
 
 The difference between the kind help due to the humblest 
 of the weaker sex when she claims it, and the well-bred cour- 
 tesy due to a lady, with all the varying shades that lie between, 
 is entirely confounded. The lady and the house- drudge are 
 put upon a level — the first as much robbed of her proper dis- 
 tinctive deference, as the other is over-honored and absurdly 
 complimented. Anywhere in public, your wife and your 
 washerwoman, your friend's dainty daughter and your neigh- 
 bor's greasy cook, are jumbled in a most inconvenient equality 
 of " chivalric attention." Let us show this by one or two out 
 of numberless instances of daily occurence. 
 
 At the few first drops' of a shower, an omnibus passing 
 Stewart's, takes in three or four ladies, whom the rain has 
 surprised in their shopping. " Twelve inside," the vehicle goes 
 on its way ; but at the corner of Canal-street, the driver pulls 
 up. " Full !" cries a gentleman within. " It rains ! make room 
 for another lady !" answers the driver through the hole, rely- 
 ing (for one more sixpence) on the "- American homage to 
 woman." The door opens, and a dirty and wet woman, with 
 a basket and a child, mounts the steps. " Public sentiment" 
 prevents any gentleman from saying : — " My good woman, 
 step under an awning and wait three minutes for the next 
 
 hand on the one among his multitudinous rejections which was enquired 
 for, but he finally hit upon an expedient to rid himself of the trouble. 
 : He ordered his servant to collect, into two large hogsheads, all the manu- 
 j scripts of the plays that had been sent to him, and, whenever an author 
 \ called, the Manager, with the most polite ceremony, led him to the two 
 i vast receptacles and begged him to help himself. In one case, where the 
 ■ author of a tragedy spent a day up to his chin in dramatic poetry, vainly 
 | searching for his own, Mr. Gilfert, to his indignant second demand, most 
 ! courteously invited him to take any other tragedy instead, or a comedy 
 \ and two farces, or, in short, to satisfy himself out of the general heap, 
 
 without scruple. 
 
 8 ■ 
 
170 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 omnibus !" She is a defenceless woman (!) and no American 
 gentleman can refuse her shelter. (!) The gentlemen crowd 
 together towards the door, passing her up, so that " the ladies 
 may all sit together ;" and down she drops, with her wet skirts, 
 upon the divided laps of two elegantly dressed ladies, while 
 her child and basket find their level anywhere between — the 
 three intruders together, in addition to the inconvenience, de- 
 stroying more property, in the article of dress they damage, 
 than the woman would earn in a year. Now, query — are the 
 four ladies in that omnibus gratified, on the whole, with this 
 demonstration of " American homage to woman ?" 
 
 Let us give another instance which we chanced to see, not 
 long since : — In a crowded theatre, a lady, evidently a stran- 
 ger in town, sat with an invalid gentleman, to whom she seem- 
 ed very tenderly attached, at the end of a seat near the door. 
 They had come early to secure good places, and the gentleman 
 was congratulating himself that he had been persuaded to 
 come — the sofa (at the Broadway theatre) being so well cush- 
 ioned that he thought the fatigue would not be too much for 
 him. They were evidently persons of the most refined class 
 of life. As the curtain rose, a man, savouring very strongly 
 of bad brandy, passed in with a stout Irish girl, and stood a 
 moment with her in the alley between the sofas — not a vacant 
 seat to be seen. " Plenty of gentlemen sitting down !" said 
 the girl. " Will you please to give a lady a seat, sir ?" said 
 the man, touching the invalid gentleman on the shoulder. Of 
 course it must be a very independent person, capably of acting 
 in cool defiance of public opinion in this country, who would 
 refuse, under such circumstances ; and the invalid gentleman 
 yielded his place to a robust Irish servant girl, and remained 
 
"AMERICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 171 
 
 standing, and separated from the companion with whom he 
 came to enjoy the play, for the remainder of the evening. 
 Now, query — did loth these ladies feel pleased with this de- 
 monstration of " American homage to woman," or if they 
 differed, which of the two would it have been more proper 
 to favor by the simplest discrimination ? 
 
 Any lady's memory will suply numberless instances of this 
 operation of American chivalry, in favor of her sex in public ; 
 but let us give a single exponent instance, while we are about 
 it, of how it operates in private. 
 
 A lady, in American Society, " can do no wrong." No 
 distinction is made between the heavenly angel-woman (of 
 which kind there are so many), who may be described in Wal- 
 ler's words : — 
 
 " So gentle and severe, that what was bad 
 Alike her hatred and her pardon had — " 
 
 no distinction between the charitably incredulous and reluc- 
 tant listener to an evil report, and the embittered and eager 
 retailer of scandal, whose revenge for disappointed vanity is 
 to invent and circulate it. Calumny in America, let it but 
 walk in petticoats, is as privileged as is the royalty abroad 
 that " walks in purple." Almost any " lady" may so stagger, 
 by, wilful slander, the position and prospects of almost any 
 young man, that it will take half his life to outlive the misre- 
 presentation, and what is his remedy ? Not the law — for in a 
 country of such " chivalry for woman," no jury could be found 
 who would give him damages of five dollars for any manner 
 of injury to prospects or reputation — " a lady the defendant." 
 But can he resent it in conversation ? — print a denial of the 
 
172 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 story ? — show the teller of it to be false and malicious ? No 
 — for it would be " an attack on a defenceless woman"—'' a 
 gentleman, of course, would never speak ill of a lady in society" 
 — " American homage to the sex should restrain a man" — and 
 with such resistance would be met any exposure by a gentle- 
 man of the most slanderous injury by a lady. 
 
 Now we say, query —is it complimentary to woman, that 
 the bad hearts and bitter tongues which are found in every 
 shape of human nature, should be honored and revered with 
 the pure and the lovely ? Are clear-hearted and lofty- minded 
 women pleased that their husbands and brothers, lovers and 
 friends should be at the mercy of a_bad-hearted slanderess — 
 unpunishable, and protected by public opinion, because she is 
 one of their pure selves ? In honoring, and leaving in unstig- 
 matized respect, a soured and hypocritical old maid, for in- 
 stance, who does a hundred wrongs in a year that are worse 
 in the eye of Heaven than theft, and are immeasurably heavier 
 than robbery to bear — in honoring and respecting such a one 
 because she is " a woman," do we not virtually disparage those 
 of the sex whom we profess to honor ? Is there no selection 
 to be made among females, by the general laws of male esti- 
 mation ? Are we, like bulls, horses, dogs and fowls, to have 
 no preference of honor, for one female over another ? 
 
LADIES VERSUS LOEDS OF CKEATION. 
 
 We find that we were only the forerunner of a coming stir, 
 in our article of last week calling attention to the " Fashion- 
 able At-Homes" of New- York, and remarking upon them as a 
 curious instance of a custom of gayety for ladies only. As we 
 observed, the superior position of the sex in this country is a 
 subject of curiosity, the world over ; and in the manifestation 
 which this fashion is, of their capability to combine and find 
 pleasure in each other's society, without the aid of hose and 
 doublet, we see their aggrandizement taking definite shape and 
 form. In these days, the first exponent of a stir in the commu- 
 nity is a course of Lectures upon the subject of it ; and we 
 have to announce that Monsieur Barthelemy, a distinguished 
 French gentleman whose character and attainments are well 
 known to the citizens of New- York, proposes to give a series 
 of Lectures on the " Condition of "Women." They will be 
 
 delivered in French — addressed, naturally enough, to that 
 
 173 
 
174 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 highly educated class which has made the first demonstration 
 of combined power, in the adoption of the above-mentioned 
 fashionable female custom of Matinees. (The daily papers 
 will contain M. Barthelemy's advertisement.) 
 
 Women have the faculty, it is very certain, of accommodating 
 themselves, with wonderful ease, to any position which grows 
 out of national usage and necessity. The slavish industry of 
 men, in this country, removing them from the neighborhood 
 and contact of their wives during the most of their waking 
 hours, the ladies have been left without share or counsel in 
 the husband's business ; but at liberty to cultivate refinements, 
 in turn, which are quite out of the husband's reach and par- 
 ticipation. The moral principle of American women being, 
 at the same time, higher than in any other country that ever 
 before existed, the liberty which ladies here enjoy is not taken 
 advantage of, to the husband's conjugal detriment ; but, if 
 misused at all, is expended in those extravagances of dress 
 and display, upon which, as safety-valves to feelings unem- 
 ployed, the husband looks, of course, with politic indulgence. 
 Display, in this country, takes the place of immorality in 
 France. 
 
 "We can conceive that M. Barthelemy's Lectures on the 
 comparative condition of women, in different ages and coun- 
 tries, might be extremely interesting. The French literature 
 abounds, we know, with information on the nature and history 
 of the gentler sex, in which the literature of England and 
 other nations is unaccountably meagre. Though her compar- 
 ative value, as to man, was definitely fixed by the Creator, 
 Woman has never ceased to alternate, through all ages, be- 
 tween elevation and abasement — the different stages and pe- 
 
 
LADIES vs. LORDS OF CREATION. 175 
 
 riods of her condition presenting most startling contrasts and 
 inconsistencies. She was man's full equal before the Fall, 
 but by the command with which she was driven from Eden — 
 {" thy desire shall be unto thy husband, and he shall rule 
 over thee,") she was punished for her temptation by a general 
 doom of subserviency ; a doom to which, as to all the general 
 laws of Providence, there are cases of exception and reversion 
 — the present " upper hand" of the Eves of New York adding 
 another to the long catalogue headed with the super-mascu- 
 line glory of Queen Semiramis. 
 
 Of the domestic virtues carried to excess, there is a warning 
 instance in the history of Greece. In the most highly civilized 
 age of antiquity, the Greek wife and mother had become so 
 exclusively a nurse of childron and overseer of servants, that 
 another female class was created to furnish more equal com- 
 panionship to the husband. The Hetcerce, as they were called, 
 were women so highly cultivated, that their society was 
 eagerly sought by such- sages as Plato and Socrates ; and 
 while the virtuous wife was eonfined to her duties in the fe- 
 male apartments, and not permitted to appear in public with 
 her husband, or frequent places of amusement, this female 
 companion (of no virtue) dined at his table, and accompanied 
 him to the theatre, or went as the " lion" and guest of honor 
 to the festivities which answer to our dinner-parties and soi- 
 rees. This corrupt class never would have obtained such po- 
 sition, of course, had the mothers and wives of Greece been 
 sufficiently educated to furnish the intellectual companionship 
 which the Hetserse, notwithstanding their immorality, sup- 
 plied ; but they held possession of the most elevated office of 
 the sexj throughout a long age of the most civilized period of 
 
176 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 antiquity. No shame was attached to associating with them. 
 Many of their names have come down with those of the re- 
 nowned men who frequented them. Aspasia, Leontium, 
 Theodata, Lais and Phryne, are named with Pericles, Aris- 
 tippus, Socrates and Plato, while the virtuous but uneducated 
 wives of these great men are, centuries ago, forgotten. As an 
 indication, at least, of what bearing a too exclusive attention 
 to household cares may have on the condition of woman, this 
 example from History may not be unsalutary — though, were 
 unequal cultivation a danger to both sexes alike (as perhaps it 
 should be) men might as well beware of giving too exclusive 
 an attention to business ! 
 
 We hope M. Barthelemy will analyze the causes of the 
 contrasts existing at the present moment between the condi- 
 tions of woman in this and the different nations of Europe. 
 When abroad, three years since, we saw women in the streets 
 of Dresden, harnessed with dogs and donkeys in market-carts, 
 and throughout Germany the gentler sex are put to labor 
 which, if tried in this country, would bring upon the husband 
 the martyrdom of St. Stephen. In Prance, though much 
 less moral than in other countries, Woman is an intimate sha- 
 rer in the business and politics of the husband, and her men- 
 tal education, to fit her for this companionship, is much more 
 elevated and masculine than in this country. It would proba- 
 bly startle American women to know what powerful influence 
 is exercised by Prench women on those springs of govern- 
 ment, commerce and society, which, here, are left, most ex- 
 clusively, to male handling and direction. 
 
 The true best position of the sex, it seems to us, is equally 
 
LADIES vs. LORDS OF CREATION. 177 
 
 removed from slavish domesticity and out-of-door predomin- 
 ance. We should desire to see Woman so cultivated, that no 
 pursuit, pleasure or interest of her husband could be beyond 
 her comprehension, counsel and sympathy, while at the same 
 time we think that our own sex is better placed at the helm, 
 and better in possession of the main-springs of politics and 
 commerce. 
 
 8* 
 
FEENCH SOCIETY, 
 
 APROPOS OF THE SOCIETY OF NEW YORK. 
 
 Under the above title, the cosmopolite and gay Editor of 
 the " Revue du Nouveau Mofide" adjusts for us, a little, the 
 telescope through which Paris is to be seen from the distance 
 of New-York. The constant translations which we make 
 from the amusing correspondence of " Eugene G-uinot" with 
 the " Courrier des Etats TJnis" alarm his national pride, lest 
 the virtue and modesty of France should be forgotten amidst 
 such exclusive picturing of the miscellaneous gayeties of Paris. 
 We translate a passage or two from M. de Trobriand's article, 
 (occupying eleven pages of his Review,) by which the reader 
 will see its purport : — 
 
 " Paris is not merely the French capital. It is the central point, 
 
 to which all who travel, flock for pleasure — the cosmopolite city where 
 
 all quarters of the globe are represented. It is the universal Fair, 
 
 where every possible exchange of moral and intellectual, as well as of 
 
 (178) 
 
FRENCH SOCIETY. 179 
 
 material wares, is offered to all. City of science and frivolity ; of lux- 
 ury and misery ; of eccentricity and good sense ; of religion and impiety ; 
 of morality and debauchery ; of politics and literature ; of philosophy 
 and of indifference — city where the practical elbows the theoretical ; 
 where the impossible becomes probable ; where some believe every- 
 thing and some respect nothing — city of sublime devotedness and 
 implacable selfishness ; of ardent patriotism and mocking scepticism — 
 city, where good and evil so combat and mix, that the mind hesitates 
 at every step of its observations, scarce daring to form any definite 
 judgment of that strange problem which God can solve, but which man, 
 certainly, is wholly unable to explain." 
 
 * * " The round of Epicurean pleasures is, it must be confessed, 
 the peculiarity of Paris best known and most sought. It is to this 
 that strangers of all ranks and classess alike rush, and here, also, meet 
 the French of the provinces, and the Parisians themselves of almost 
 every kind. All mingle in this whirlpool of pleasure — those distin- 
 guished by honors, by aristocratic titles, by personal recommendations, 
 by renowned talents, by celebrity, solid or frivolous, by fortunes every 
 way made. It is to this world of pleasure that Alfred de Musset, the 
 most charming writer and the most thoroughly French mind of our 
 epoch, somewhere alludes, when he says : — ' "Wisdom is a heavy stone 
 which we roll up hill, and which tumbles eternally back upon the 
 head ; while folly in a soap-bubble, which dances on before us, taking 
 hues from all the lights and shades of creation.' It is these soap-bub- 
 bles which the wind lifts and bears over the ocean, lodging them in 
 the columns of the Courrier des Etats Unis, and it is these that Mr. 
 "Willis, for the amusement of his readers, makes dance upon the tip 
 of his pen. Thus arrive they, colored like the rainbow, to the columns 
 of the Home Journal, and their naturalization, there, is done with no 
 loss of their spicy quality, nor of their aroma of nationality. I deny not 
 their origin, nor their ability. I object only to the conclusions drawn 
 from them. All this is French, I grant— Parisian, I grant— but there 
 
180 33IE RAG BAG. 
 
 are very different things which are French and Parisian as well, and it 
 is this which I wish to impress upon the reader." 
 
 M. de Trobriand goes on to analyze the currents by which 
 French news flows to this country — the correspondence of 
 Gaillardet, Gueroult, Fiorentino and others, and the able 
 digests and selections of Arpin, the editor of the " Courrier" 
 — and returns to Eugene Guinot, who, he says, " transmits 
 to us the chronicle altogether Parisian, of the accessible world 
 of elegant pleasure, tke«world of fashion." " The error is in 
 forming a picture of the tvhole, from having the attention fixed 
 only upon a portion of life in Paris." "The writings which 
 most tend to this error are certainly those of Eugene Guinot. 
 In Paris itself, the partial views which he gives are harmless, 
 because their true extent and value are easily understood. 
 But, in New- York, ignorance of the distinctions to be made, 
 and the impossibility of knowing the real limits of their appli- 
 cation to the divers elements of Parisian life, naturally mislead 
 readers in their conclusions." 
 
 Speaking of the Masked Balls, which the nobility of France 
 are represented as frequenting in Carnival time, M. de Trobri- 
 and draws a distinction between the presence of a Duke, or 
 of a Duchess, at such a place, and denies that any lady, of 
 respectable society, is ever the heroine of those often described 
 adventures. That titles are adopted for the occasion, by the 
 women who frequent them, and that the stories told may be 
 of real Dukes and Barons, but of sham Duchesses and Baron- 
 esses, he thinks very possible. He denies also that ladies of 
 rank and station visit celebrated actresses of doubtful charac- 
 ter. He says: — 
 
FRENCH SOCIETY. 181 
 
 "It is, however, true, that all the artistic superiorities of France are 
 surrounded with a lustre of eclat which embellishes their private life, 
 to a degree known in no other country. When persons, by this sort 
 of celebrity, are lifted above their original condition, they receive, from 
 the higher classes, be they male or female, the most flattering and 
 cordial reception — extended to them individually, however, and not 
 adding any importance to their profession. But we see an instance of 
 how this is effected by circumstances : There was a time when Made- 
 moiselle Rachel, raised from the lowest condition to the highest grade 
 of the French stage, was invited to the houses of the first officers of 
 the Government, and of other persons of rank. She appeared there 
 in the double character of a great tragedienne and a young girl of spot- 
 less reputation. When, of this two-fold personality, only the first re- 
 mained 3 the doors of society were closed against her. It is to be 
 noticed, besides, that, even while invited to the houses of men of rank, 
 and receiving visits from them at her own house, she was not visited 
 also by their wives." 
 
 Speaking with knowledge and authority, as the courtly-bred 
 Editor of the ".Revue" unquestionably does, it will be a mat- 
 ter of some interest to our readers if we call their attention to 
 a distinction or two of French Society which we have never 
 before seen specified so distinctly in print. Defining the dif- 
 ference of social rank given by the different kinds of artistic 
 celebrity, he says : — 
 
 " Painters and sculptors may attain a rank with which no other 
 celebrity can compete. When Charles V. picked up the dropped pencil 
 of Titian, he rendered striking homage to another royalty whose deeds 
 would five longer than his own. Raphael and Michael Angelo march 
 to posterity with brows on a level with the proudest, and it is only, 
 Caesar or Alexander who can rise above them. In our own time, the 
 Duke of Orleans made a pride of his intimacy with distinguished 
 painters, while he made a secret peccadillo of his acquaintance, with 
 
182 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 great actresses. It must always Tbe so. Men like Lacroix, Ingres, 
 Delaroche, Vernet, are not only artists of genius, but men of science 
 and inspiration — of intelligence almost universal. Actors, however, 
 do but represent the genius of otters. The most elevated point which 
 they can attain, is a complete absorption of all their faculties in a ficti- 
 tious personality, an identification of themselves with the passions which 
 another has conceived. If this is carried, as in Talma, to genius, it is 
 genius which cannot employ itself on its own material, and it remains 
 chained to the track which is imperiously traced for it, by those to 
 whom it is a slave. This it is that divides the existence of actors into 
 two parts so completely separate, and thus it is that their individual 
 character has to contend with their fame as actors, and the more strong 
 the blaze upon them when on the stage, the deeper the shadow of con- 
 trast which falls on their private life. Whether just or not, this pre- 
 judice prevails, and if cases occur where the individual life protests 
 against this obscurity, it is oftenest by a kind of notoriety which 
 awakens additional hostility on the part of society. The theatre, in 
 fact, is a dangerous school. To learn how best to express passion, in 
 its most burning energy, is not the best guard against its influence, 
 and, in truth, there are no human beings more exposed to the perils 
 of passion than actors and actresses. I am not he who would ' throw 
 the first stone,' but I analyze and mention this liability of the profes- 
 sion as one of the causes which drive them from society." 
 
 As this is avowedly written to aid New York in looking at 
 the Parisian scale of social life, and as our own scale is in 
 process of formation, we had better indicate, perhaps, where 
 it might be possible to improve on the European model. We 
 wish we had time and room to do this more at large, but can 
 perhaps point distinctly though briefly at what we mean. 
 That the society of actors and actresses is the most entertain- 
 ing and agreeable of all society, is generally admitted. That 
 
FRENCH SOCIETY. 183 
 
 men of rank and of high official standing, in Europe, frequent 
 it themselves, with no imputation on their moral character, 
 but do nqt allow their wives to frequent it, is also understood. 
 That it is the wit, playfulness of thought and manner, disre- 
 gard of burthensome etiquette, quaint mixture of the dramatic 
 with the common-place, impulsiveness and frankness — and not 
 the immorality — of the class, which makes its charm, is, we 
 fancy, what every one would allow as well. But, where 
 these fascinating qualities exist toithout the immorality, as 
 they do in many cases, is it not a pity, (in a dull world like 
 this) that so charming a feature should be lost to the best so- 
 ciety of gentlemen and ladies ? Should American wives avoid 
 the society of actors and actresses, (because Marchionesses and 
 Baronesses do) and let their husbands enjoy its fascination (as 
 Marquises and Barons do,) without them ? Would it not act 
 powerfully on the moral character of the profession, if actors 
 and actresses were excluded from society only on the same 
 grounds with other people, and welcomed gladly to circles 
 they could so enliven and embellish, as long as they were of 
 as good repute as other people ? "We suggest a compromise, 
 in this matter, as very good material for an Americanism. 
 
POST-MOETUUM SOIEEE 
 
 Not being entirely persuaded, as yet, of our own omnis- 
 cience, we are unwilling to decline knowing anything more 
 and we, therefore, accepted an invitation, lately, to pass an 
 evening with the " Knockers." The inducement was some 
 what strengthened by the possibility that spirits have prefer 
 ences as to the society they are expected to meet — for the 
 party was small, and would be considered select, we shouk 
 suppose, in any world populated principally from this. "We 
 venture to name the gentlemen, as it is something when spirits 
 knock, (with or without bodies,) to know whom they are , 
 knocking for ; and we shall not hear, till we are beyond " affi- 
 davits," whether there was anything compromising in the 
 uncertain portion of the company. Our host was Eev. Eufus ' 
 W. Griswold, and, present, were Fenimore Cooper, Eev. Dr. I 
 Hawks, Mr. Bryant, Mr. Bancroft, Gen. Lyman, Tuckerman | 
 
 (184) 
 
POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 185 
 
 the Essayist, Dr. Francis, Dr. Marcy, Mr. Bigelow, of the 
 Evening Post, Mr. Kipley, of the Tribune, and one or two 
 others. 
 
 On our way in, we saw the " Knocking Party," of four 
 ladies, looking for the house — into which (it is perhaps essen- 
 tial to state,) they had never before entered, and the floors 
 and walls of which they had had no opportunity, of course, to 
 cram with accomplices and hammers. A stout lady, of the 
 ordinary small town type of maternity, led the way, followed 
 by three young ladies considerably prettier than the average. 
 The eldest of these, Mrs. Pish, is a widow, perhaps twenty- 
 five years of age, and she is the spokeswoman of the knocking 
 spirits ; though we are a little surprised, precedent and all 
 things considered, that one of the virgins was not elected for 
 that office. The two Misses Fox, as well as their married 
 sister, have nerves so plumply clad in health and tranquility, 
 that it is difficult to reconcile their appearance with the fact 
 that they have been worked upon for two years, by the phe- 
 nomena of unexplained visitations ; and, indeed, throughout 
 the evening, we were struck with their combined good-humor 
 and simplicity, and the ease and unpretendingness with which 
 they let their visitors (from both worlds) have their own way. 
 They evidently won on the respect and liking of all present, 
 as the evening went on. 
 
 [We had written the above when the Tribune was handed 
 in, containing a carefully prepared and most correct account 
 of the spirit interviews. We will first copy it, thus making 
 more sure of leaving nothing untold, and will afterwards add 
 what little else we chanced personally to observe.] 
 
186 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 " For some time, perhaps a little over half an hour, after the arrival 
 of the ladies, no sounds were heard, and the company gave obvious 
 symptoms of impatience. They were then requested to draw nearer 
 the table, which was in front of the ladies, and form themselves into a 
 compact circle. Soon after, faint sounds began to be heard from 
 under the floor, around the table and in different parts of the room. 
 They increased in loudness and frequency, becoming so clear and dis- 
 tinct that no one could deny their presence, nor trace them to any 
 visible cause. The question was now asked by the ghost seers, " will 
 the spirits converse with any one present ?" No satisfactory answer 
 was obtained, though there was a general rumbling succession of sounds, 
 the purport of which appeared to be ambiguous, to those who professed 
 to be most conversant with the language. The question was then put 
 more definitely, with regard to several gentlemen present. After a 
 good deal of coquetting, it was said that replies would be given to 
 any questions proposed by Dr. Marcy. He inquired whether the spirit 
 which he wished to converse with was a relation — was a child — and 
 what was its age at the time of its death. We understood Dr. 
 Marcy to say that the answers were correct, but nothing worthy of 
 special notice was elicited. 
 
 " Mr. Henry T. Tuckerman was the next to propound inquiries, 
 which, contrary to the usual custom, he expressed audibly, so as to be 
 heard by the ladies and the whole company. Having fixed in his 
 mind the name of an individual, he asked, ' Did he live in New- York ?' 
 No answer. ' In Baltimore ? In Cambridge ? In Boston V — three 
 distinct raps, which is the sign of an affirmative answer. A negative is 
 indicated by silence. Mr. T. continued, ' Was he a lawyer ? A mer- 
 chant ? A physician ? A clergyman ?' Knocks. ' Was he an Episcopa- 
 lian? A Presbyterian? A Unitarian?' — going over the names of,, 
 the principal sects. No answer. At the suggestion of a gentleman, 
 Mr. T. asked, ' Was he a Christian V Knocks. Mr. T. then asked 
 the age of the person in a series of tens. ' Was he twenty years old 
 
POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 187 
 
 at the time of his death? Was he thirty? Fifty 7 Sixty ?' Knocks. 
 'Has he left a family?' Knocks. ' Children V Knocks. 'Five? 
 Three ? Two ?' Knocks. ' Did he die in Boston ? In Philadelphia ? 
 In Albany? In Northampton ? In Bennington ?' Knocks. 'Did he 
 die of consumption ? Of fever ? Of Cholera ? Of old age ?' Knocks. 
 
 " The person in Mr. Tuckerman's mind was the late Eev. Dr. Chan- 
 ning of Boston, who died in Bennington, Vt., while on a journey. The 
 degree of correctness in the answers may be judged by the reader. It 
 may be stated, however, that for the last years of his life Dr. C. dis- 
 claimed the use of all sectarian names, preferring to be called only 
 Christian, and that though under seventy, his physical powers had 
 long suffered from premature exhaustion. 
 
 " Rev. Dr. Hawks was then urgently solicited by several of the party 
 to propose inquiries, to which, after some hesitation, he reluctantly 
 consented. He did not meet with any great success. The sounds 
 uttered were faint, almost inaudible at several times, and in the great 
 majority of cases indicated an incorrect reply. Dr. Hawks pursued 
 his inquiries with exemplary patience, but, after several more ineffec- 
 tual attempts, he resigned the floor to Dr. John W. Francis, who was 
 welcomed with a general roll of knockings, from the mysterious agents, 
 seeming to claim the privilege of old and intimate acquaintance. 
 "With his proverbial urbanity, seating himself as if at the bed-side of 
 a patient, Dr. F. asked in terms of the most insinuating blandness, 
 ' whether the spirits present would converse with any member of the 
 company ? "Would they vouchsafe to speak to his illustrious friend, 
 the world renowned author, Mr. Cooper ? Would they converse with 
 the great American poet, Mr. Bryant ?' To these flattering invitations 
 no reply was given. ' Would they speak to so humble an individual 
 j as himself?' Loud knocks. Dr. F. then asked, fixing on a per- 
 Bon : ' Was he an American ? Was he an Englishman ? Was he a 
 Scotchman ? The knocks were loud and unanimous. ' Was he a mer- 
 chant? Was he a lawyer? Was he an author?' Loud knocks. 
 
I! 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 1 Was he a poet ?' Yes, in distinct knocks. ' Will you tell his name ?' 
 Here the spirits called for the alphabet, by sounds intelligible to the 
 ghost-seers. The answers by this method are given in knocks at the 
 letter desired when the alphabet is repeated by one of the ladies. It 
 then spelled out B-u-r — when the company indiscreetly, but spontane- 
 ously interrupted, by crying out Robert Burns. This was the true 
 answer, and after the interview with the favorite Scotch poet, Dr. F. 
 declined any further communication. 
 
 :( Mr. J. Fenimore Cooper was then requested to enter into the 
 supra-mundane sphere, and proceeded to interrogate the spirits, with 
 the most imperturbable self-possession and deliberation. After several 
 desultory questions, from which no satisfactory answers were obtained, 
 Mr. C. commenced a new series of inquiries. Is the person I inquire 
 about a relative ? Yes, was at once indicated by the knocks. A near 
 relative ? Yes. A man ? No answer. A woman ? Yes. A daugh- 
 ter ? A mother ? A wife ? No answer. A sister ? Yes. Mr. 0. 
 then asked the number of years since her death. To this the answer 
 was given in rapid and indistinct raps, some counting forty-five, others 
 forty-nine, fifty-four, etc. After considerable parleying as to the man- 
 ner in which the question should be answered, the consent of the invis- 
 ible interlocutor was given to knock the year so slowly that they 
 might be distinctly counted. This was done. Knock — knock — knock 
 — for what seemed over a minute, till the number amounted to fifty, 
 and was unanimously announced by the company. Mr. 0. now asked, 
 Did she die of consumption ? — naming several diseases, to which no 
 answer was given. Did she die by accident ? Yes. Was she killed 
 by lightning? Was she shot? Was she lost at sea? Did she fall 
 from a carriage ? Was she thrown from a horse ? Yes. 
 
 " Mr. Cooper did not pursue his inquiries any further, and stated to 
 the company that the answers were correct, the person alluded to by 
 him being a sister, who, just fifty years ago the present month, was 
 killed by being thrown from a horse. 
 
POST-MOBTUUM SOIREE. 189 
 
 " The evening was now far advanced, and it was not thought desira- 
 ble to continue the colloquies any further. At the suggestion of sev- 
 eral gentlemen, the ladies removed from the sofa, where they had sat 
 during the evening, and remained standing in another part of the room. 
 The knockings were now heard on the doors, at both ends of the room, 
 producing a vibration on the panels, which was felt by every one who 
 touched them. Different gentlemen stood on the outside and the 
 inside of the door at the same time, when loud knockings were heard 
 on the side opposite to that where they stood. The ladies were at such 
 a distance from the door in both cases, as to lend no countenance to 
 the idea that the sounds were produced by any direct communication 
 with them. They now went into a parlor, under the room in which 
 the party was held, accompanied by several gentlemen, and the souuds 
 were then produced with great distinctness, causing sensible vibrations 
 in the sofa, and apparently coming from a thick hearth-rug before the 
 fireplace, as well as from other quarters of the room." 
 
 We could not but be struck with the disinclination which 
 these spirits seem to have for any intercourse with editors. A 
 modified assent by knockings, more or -less strong, was given 
 to every other proposal. When asked by Mrs. Pish, 
 " would the spirits converse with Dr. Francis ?" the knocking 
 was so loud and immediate as to create a general laugh. The 
 urbane Doctor was so evidently a favorite in the nether world 
 that it suggested a query in our own mind, whether politeness 
 may not go farther even than we suppose. The knocking 
 next loudest was the assent given to an interview with Dr. 
 Hawks. To Mr. Cooper there was apparently no objection, 
 though the assent was not very cordial ; but he seemed to 
 improve on acquaintance, for, to no one, were the spirits half 
 so willing to repeat their revelations twice over, or half so 
 explicit. To Mr. Tuckerman and Dr. Marcy, they were mo- 
 derately gracious and communicative. The company, however 
 
190 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 (probably with an eye to the improvement given to a descrip- 
 tion, by the "pars magna fui") insisted on direct applications 
 for interviews with the members of the Press. " "Would the 
 Spirits converse with Mr. Eipley of the Tribune 2" No answer. 
 " Would the Spirits converse with Mr. Bryant 2" No answer. 
 The last two refusals surprised us somewhat, for we had sup- 
 posed that the world of imagination was between this and the 
 Spirit-land — half-way to whence these knockers come, that is 
 to say — and we expected that Mr. Bryant and ourself, as men 
 who had done business in that intermediate world, would have 
 been looked upon as neighbors.. Either our trans-Styx-ic geo- 
 graphy is wrong — or ghosts have no taste for poets — or news- 
 paper Editors (and this we could believe with very little more 
 evidence) have no immediate connection with Elysium. If we 
 had been alone, in our " dead cut," by the way, we might 
 have thought it a resentment for our neglect of a previous in- 
 vitation ; for we had received the following pokerish note, a 
 few days before, and in the multiplicity of engagements, had 
 forgotten to attend to it : — 
 
 " Mrs. Fox and her daughters, having received communications from 
 the Spiritual world, would be happy to see Mr. Willis at Barnum's Ho- 
 tel, at any horn* most convenient to himself." 
 
 What a "whirl we live in (let us remark here, as gravely as 
 you please !) when even the offer of immediate news from an- 
 other world can be thrown aside among neglected invitations ! 
 
 One little peculiarity, hitherto unremarked, came to our no- 
 tice. The questioner's seat, to give him access to paper and 
 pencil, was on one side of the table, and, chancing to occupy 
 the place between him and the ladies, we had accidentally 
 thrown our arm over the back of his chair. Whenever the 
 
POST-MORTUUM SOIREE, 19J 
 
 knockings occurred, we observed that his chair was shaken, 
 though our own intermediate chair, and the two standing im- 
 mediately behind, were unmoved. "We called attention to it, 
 and it was corroborated by the other gentlemen. "With such 
 heavy weight in the chair as Mr. Cooper's, or Dr. Francis's, 
 it would have taken a blow with a heavy hammer to have 
 produced so much of a vibration. That spirits can exercise 
 mechanical force at all, is something new to believe. And the 
 law of mechanics would be equally puzzled (cavillers insisting 
 that the ladies themselves produce these noises and vibrations) 
 to explain how Mr. Cooper's chair was shaken, when we aver, 
 that, between their petticoats and him, we«-sat unmoved, posi- 
 tively cutting off all physical and mortal communication. We 
 may add that the ladies gave no particular attention to the 
 phenomena,, talking willingly to any one while the knockings 
 were going on. Later in the evening, it was proposed to the 
 Spirits to let us see them move the table across the room — a 
 feat they are said to have done — but' they were not in the 
 humor. 
 
 An experiment was tried, as to what the Invisibles would 
 do with one of the ladies alone, or with two without the third, 
 or with a gentleman, and one or two of the ladies. The stron- 
 gest knockings were on the floor beneath, when the widow 
 and her two sisters stood anywhere together. With two of 
 them the knocks were fainter. We placed ourself between 
 the widow and one of the young ladies, and the Spirits would 
 have nothing to say to them in our company. To one of the 
 virgins, or to the widow singly, there was no demonstration. 
 The spell, evidently, is in the combination and close locality 
 of these three. Yet it seems communicable, with neighbor- 
 
192 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 hood and time. Mrs. Fish mentioned that, in Eochester, the 
 knocking visitation had spread, extending, at present, to twen- 
 ty or thirty families. If it is to " spread" the world over, and 
 if we are all to have spirits at our command, such as are alrea- 
 dy proved to be able to shake chairs and move tables, there will 
 soon come a Fulton or a Morse, who will put this ghost-power 
 into harness, and it will follow Steam and Electricity in doing 
 man's work for him. Things really look like a removal of 
 man's curse at the Fall, labor ; and, if chloroform do as much 
 for womarC s curse, so that she will no longer " bring forth in 
 sorrow," we do not see much hindrance in the way of an early 
 Millenium. It would be wise, we fancy, pretty soon, to wash 
 our hands and take a holiday a little oftener, that " all play 
 and no work" may not prove rather tedious than otherwise, 
 when it comes, after all ! 
 
 With three men on the outside of a door, and three on the 
 inside, watching it closely, that door could not be so violently 
 knocked upon as to tremble, though no visible force ap- 
 proached it, without giving one something to believe. "We 
 witnessed this, with one hand upon the panels, and what can 
 it be, but the exercise of a power beyond anything of which 
 we have hitherto known the laws ? That it is to be subject 
 to human control seems probable, for it acts, at present, in a 
 certain obedience to human orders, and is most obedient to 
 those who have used it longest. There seems an alphabet to 
 learn, in this as in other new fields of knowledge ; and, indeed, 
 — considering the confusion of ideas in the minds of those who 
 visit and try to talk, off-hand, with these newly-discovered 
 " natives,"— it is wonderful that the Knockers make them- 
 selves as well understood as they already do. If Providence 
 
POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 193 
 
 design to subject an intelligent power to our service — (in addi- 
 tion to the unintelligent miracle-workers, Steam and Electri- 
 city, which have successively been given us) — the beginnings 
 would, by all precedent, be at least as imperfect and as dimly 
 understood as these are. 
 
 The suggestions and " outside" bearings of this matter are 
 many and curious. If these knocking answers to questions 
 are made, (as many insist) by electric detonations, and if dis- 
 embodied spirits are still moving, consciously, among us, and 
 have thus found an agent, at last, electricity, by which they 
 can communicate ivith the world they have left, it must soon, in 
 the progressive nature of things, ripen to an intercourse be- 
 tween this and the spirit- world. The failure of the " Cincin- 
 natians" to establish their " clairvoyant telegraph," three or 
 four years ago, may have been owing to the fact that the new 
 power is an intelligence, and will not be basely employed to 
 " fetch and carry" for trade. But we understand it has con- 
 sented to be employed for healing. A report was made to the 
 Homcepathic College, of New York, recently, that a physician 
 had employed these Knockers to consult the Spirit of Hahne- 
 man as to a case despaired of, and the instructions given in 
 the reply had been followed, to the cure of the patient. The 
 \ " Knocking" differs from clairvoyance, in the fact, that the 
 ! Spirit, in the former case, speaks first — and it is an advance 
 I upon clairvoyance, of course, as Spirits know where they can 
 I be of use, better than we, and are more at leisure to knock 
 land tell us, than we to look up a clairvoyant. But then comes 
 the wonder, how those, who have got well out of this world, 
 should either wish or consent to have anything more to do 
 with it ! Or is it as schoolmasters go back to mix with chil- 
 
194 
 
 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 dren for their good, or as missionaries fall behind, in the march 
 of civilization, to carry light to the benighted heathen who are 
 coming on rather too slowly ? 
 
 We were very glad to see Mr. Cooper interested in the 
 " Knockers" the other evening, for he is one of the few men 
 not afraid of the world, and whatever he sees and believes, 
 with his logical and bold mind, he has the courage to tell, and 
 tell well. The numerous places in which, these Knockings 
 have been heard, within the past year, show that the ghosts 
 at large have got the trick of it, and the " demonstration" alto- 
 gether, to our thinking, is of sufficient extent and respectabil- 
 ity to warrant grave attention. An electric telegraph across 
 the Styx, before they get one across the Atlantic, would make 
 death less of a separation from friends than a voyage to Eu- 
 rope — but there is no end to the speculation on the subject, 
 and we leave it with our readers. 
 
 
DEESS EXCITEMENT, 
 
 AND PKOBABLE INCREASE OF FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 The steamboat Public Excitement seldom makes precisely 
 the voyage which the steam was got up for. The " hands" 
 who do the work of getting in coal and provisions, talk loudly 
 of the port whither she is supposed to be bound ; and even 
 the captain and clerk confidently mark the course upon the 
 chart — but Common Good is the owner ; and, at the last mo- 
 ment, the pilot Expediency is sent on board, and the boat 
 obeys the rudder, and takes an unexpected direction, as quiet- 
 ly as if captain and crew, coal and piston, had, all the time, 
 known whither they were to drive her. 
 
 We have noticed the operation of this principle, in matters 
 
 more grave than the one by which, as we suppose, it is about 
 
 to be illustrated. Voyages in Politics and Religion can seldom be 
 
 judged of, exactly, by the advertisements beforehand. It is a 
 
 question that has been almost as much discussed, however, as a 
 
 (195) 
 
196 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 schism or a Presidency, viz :. short or long petticoats for 
 ladies, that we wish to say, now, our first word upon — our 
 abstaining from the subject, hitherto, having been the result 
 of an impression that the mere point of dispute, thus far, was 
 one that the ladies could better decide for themselves ; and 
 our speaking of it, now, being prompted by a belief that the 
 excitement would abandon the one particular point hitherto 
 discussed, and turn to a reform much more general and im- 
 portant. 
 
 The universal remark, as to the proposed female adoption 
 of short frock and trousers, is, that it %oould suit one lady in 
 ten. Is the reader aware of the novelty and importance of 
 having this remark universally made by the ladies, as to any 
 one fashion whatever ? It is equally true of almost every 
 mode which milliners and mantua-makers invent. The last 
 bonnet, for instance, which made every lady in the city look 
 as if her face were thrust through a hole in a spread fan, was 
 becoming, only to one whose whole beauty was in her profile 
 — a beauty which, in a close bonnet, is never seen — yet, 
 though this is true of not more than one in a hundred, the 
 other ninety-nine were sacrificed to the new mode with ser- 
 vile instantaneousness. Of what fashion is it not equally 
 true ? "With women short and tall, women high-shouldered 
 and low-shouldered, women stooping and straight-backed, 
 women with different complexions and movements, and women 
 with plumpness and thinness most variously distributed, what i 
 absurdity is any one fashion to be worn by all ! The " Pro- 
 crustes bed" of the tyrant, which cut off legs that were too I 
 long to fit it, and stretched legs that were too short, was more 
 likely to suit customers, taken as they come. 
 
DRESS EXCITEMENT. I97 
 
 But, let us not blame the ladies only, for this servility. — 
 Their fashions are usually becoming to somebody, while the 
 men are equally servile to fashions becoming to nobody. Half 
 shut your eyes in Broadway at the present moment, and the 
 dandies look like a procession of tail-less roosters. Bob-tail 
 coats are the fashion — but, to whom is a bob-tail becoming, 
 except (from its propriety) to a groom or a post-boy ? The 
 commonest law of beauty, for a male figure, demands broad 
 shoulders and narrow hips — yet here is a universal fashion, 
 which so clips the skirts that the edges stand out with the 
 curve at the waist, and make a man's hips look as progeni- 
 tively big as a woman's. There is the same uninquiring ser- 
 vility as to every male fashion that comes up — beards and 
 hats, cravat-ties and waistcoats, trousers and shirt-bosoms. — 
 Lately, even, (and we never knew anything droller in the 
 whole history of fashion's caprices,) there could scarce be 
 found a young man in New York, the edges of whose hair 
 were not turned under from ear to ear, like the roller of a 
 curtain, with the- barber's curling-tongs ! 
 
 Against the slavery of fashion, .our republican country is 
 properly the place for the first revolt. Of all the weeds of 
 monarchy and aristocracy, such servile imitation of the exte- 
 rior of others is the most rank and unprofitable. It extends to 
 other apings of our superiors. " Every one of Alexander's 
 followers," says Montaigne, " carried their heads on one side 
 as he did ; and the flatterers of Dionysius ran against each 
 other in his presence, and stumbled at, and overturned what- 
 ever was under foot, to seem as purblind as he. Deafness has 
 been affected for the same reason; and, because the Emperor 
 hated his wife, Plutarch records that the courtiers repudiated 
 
198 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 theirs whom the}^ loved ; and, which is yet more, uncleanness 
 and all manner of dissoluteness has been 171 fashion." 
 
 "We repeat, that we see signs, which look to us as if the 
 present excitement as to one fashion were turning into a uni- 
 versal inquiry as to the sense or propriety oft any fashion at all. 
 "When the subject shall have been fully discussed, and public 
 attention fully awakened, common sense will probably take 
 the direction of the matter, and opinion will settle in some 
 shape which, at least, may reject former excesses and absurd- 
 ities. Some moderate similarity of dress is doubtless neces- 
 sary, and there are proper times and places for long dresses 
 and short dresses. These and other points the ladies are like- 
 ly to come to new decisions about. While they consult 
 health, cleanliness and convenience, however, we venture to 
 express a hope that they will get rid of the present slavish uni- 
 formity — that what is becoming to each may be worn without 
 fear of unfashionableness, and that, in this way, we may see 
 every woman dressed somewhat differently, and to her own 
 best advantage, and the proportion of beauty largely increased, 
 as it would, thereby, most assuredly be. 
 
GHOST-KNOCKING 
 
 The damage to the renting of a house by the knowledge 
 
 that there have been mysterious noises heard in it, and the 
 
 unwillingness of most persons to become .subjects of public 
 
 conjecture and curiosity, would prevent the making public of 
 
 most of the instances — supposing that spirit-knockings were 
 
 now becoming general and frequent. Chancing, ourself, to 
 
 know of three cases, the publicity of which is carefully avoided 
 
 for these reasons, (and not seeing how or why we should 
 
 know more of such things than our neighbors,) we 
 
 feel justified in thinking if probable that the phenomenon — 
 
 whatever it be — is more common than has been supposed. It 
 
 is not two ghosts nor twenty, who have the monopoly of it — 
 
 not two impostors nor twenty, (if imposture it be,) who have 
 
 hit on the same trick, with the same manner of performing it, 
 
 in different and very distant places. Let it turn out what it 
 
 will, the topic is one so much discussed =that all which throws 
 
 ' (199) 
 
200 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 light upon it is interesting, and we will " scoop up" for oar 
 readers the bubble or so that has floated from the general 
 stream into our eddy editorial. 
 
 The first story we have to tell is rather to the disparage- 
 ment of ghosts, and goes to show that the mind may remain 
 pretty much the same, for a while, after death, weaknesses and 
 all. It was narrated in a letter to a private gentleman in this 
 city, by an English friend with whom he is in familiar corres- 
 pondence. Names cannot be given, for the reasons we speci- 
 fied in the first sentence of this article, and it was written with 
 no thought of publicity — but the writer is a man of remark- 
 able mind and attainments, and the correspondence is mainly 
 upon topics of religious and moral progress. We briefly give 
 the facts : — 
 
 The wife and children of Mr. W. had been very much dis- 
 turbed for some months, by unaccountable knockings. An 
 occasional and inexplicable waving of their bed curtains was 
 another phenomenon which troubled them. They occupied an 
 old house, of which Mr. W. had a long lease; but, as he 
 wished to dispose of his lease, and move to another part of 
 London, and as he thought these phenomena were tricks that 
 would be explained, he forbade a mention of the circumstances, 
 as likely to prejudice the lease, and they were a family secret 
 accordingly. Though not a physician, he was a man of con- 
 siderable medical knowledge, and, a female cousin being sub- 
 ject to fits of epilepsy, he had tried experiments of animal 
 magnetism for her cure. These, had been partially successful, 
 when, on magnetizing her, in one of her fits, she changed 
 from a passive state to a look of intelligence. 
 
GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 201 
 
 " What a singular old woman is in the room !" she suddenly 
 exclaimed. 
 
 No one being present but Mr. "W". and his wife, he ques- 
 tioned the epileptic, getting gradually a description by which 
 they recognized his grandmother, who had been dead several 
 years. He requested her to ask the old lady what she 
 wanted. 
 
 " She is most anxious to speak to yourself," was the reply. 
 
 Farther parley induced the venerable ghost to open her 
 mind through a second person. She was distressed at the 
 neglect with which her dresses and ornaments were treated, 
 her favorite and valuable things left to mould in out-of-the-way 
 corners, in a way that was insufferable, even where she was. 
 
 Having entirely forgotten the existence of these articles, 
 Mr. W. inquired where they were. The old lady at once gave 
 explicit directions where they could be found, and found they 
 were; in the very places described, and in the very condition 
 which had vexed the unchanged memory of the departed. 
 They were attended to, and there were no more supernatural 
 noises for some months. 
 
 A- recurrence of an attack, while the cousin was on a visit to 
 the house, some time afterwards, brought animal magnetism 
 again into play, and, at the moment of the patient's subjection 
 to the influence, a violent knocking was once more heard. The 
 patient did not, this time, become clairvoyant, and no commu- 
 nication was received in any intelligible shape from the unlaid 
 grandmother. The knockings at night were resumed, how- 
 ever, and Mr. W. determined to try if he could himself get a 
 demonstration, and, in that case, to speak his mind, with the 
 hope that deafness was not among the ills that ex-flesh is heir 
 9* 
 
202 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 to. He took a book and kept himself awake till after midnight, 
 and then tried to will up the knockings. At two, they sud- 
 denly resounded, and he then proceeded to give his grand- 
 mother a lecture. He laid before her, in plain terms, the way 
 she was disturbing the family, the risk of damaging his inter- 
 ests, and the better things she ought, for decency's sake, to 
 appear to be thinking about, between this and judgment day. 
 As he went on, the knockings, by their increased rapidity as 
 they broke in, from time to time, expressed displeasure ; and, 
 at the last allusion and its reproof, there was a perfect storm 
 of rappings. Mr. "W. then bade his grandmother good-night, 
 and went to bed — since which the knockings have been no more 
 heard. 
 
 Droll as this is, it is narrated with perfect sincerity by a 
 strong-minded and highly educated man, and we call on the 
 reader to credit thus much — though he may put what con- 
 struction he pleases on the circumstances it details for facts. 
 Supposing it true, it would suggest a query reasonable enough, 
 viz : — whether those who were wedded most exclusively to 
 this life and its trivialities are not those who cling most to it 
 after death, and are not most eager and most likely to stumble 
 on some way to speak to us. Ghosts have continually appear- 
 ed, to see about property, buried money, and such mere mat- 
 ters of this world, whereas no intelligent ghost (that we ever 
 heard of, at least,) has once put his nose back, through the 
 dropped curtain of time and desire, to tell us a single thing 
 that is either useful or agreeable. And yet, that all ghosts, 
 gentle and simple, see things with their new eyes which it 
 would be the most interesting for us to know, can scarcely be 
 doubted. Is it possible that none but a " low" ghost would 
 
GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 
 
 203 
 
 have any communication with us ? The reader will follow 
 out the idea. 
 
 To give a second instance : — 
 
 A gentleman of our acquaintance, who had been a politi- 
 cian for many years, (and, of course, had no nerves that any- 
 thing unsubstantial could much worry,) heard of a farm 
 which could be bought cheap, because " the house was haunt- 
 ed." Peeling simply obliged to the ghost for the accommoda- 
 tion, he became the proprietor, and moved there with his 
 family, for summer quarters. His wife had no objection 
 to the disqualification of the place, for she was a Swedenbor- 
 gian, and was willing to see any spirit who had an errand to 
 her. They had been there but a short time when the '" knock- 
 ings" commenced. The new tenant was a famous cross- 
 examining lawyer, and would believe nothing on plausibilities. 
 He set all his wits to work to discover how the ghosts did their 
 pounding — for they were the blows of a sledge hammer ap - 
 parently — and, the house being a wooden one, the disturbance 
 to sleep and comfort amounted to a serious nuisance. He was 
 wholly unsuccessful. Three days ago he told the writer of 
 this that it was still a complete mystery. His wife, (to her 
 own belief,) has seen a spirit walk through the locked door 
 of her bed-room, but as it made no communication, they remain 
 in the dark as to its object. The place has no history beyond 
 crops. It bas been occupied always by such people as none but 
 very illiterate ghosts could have had any acquaintance with. 
 
 One instance more : — 
 
 A family of young people, whom we know very well, moved 
 into a new three -story brick house, in the upper part of this city, 
 last year. Spirits are supposed to haunt only antiquated 
 
204 
 
 THE KAG-EAG. 
 
 dwellings, but, here, they even got the start of rats, cockroa- 
 ches, and other nuisances, for, unaccountable knockings were 
 heard before the coming in of the bill for the first quarter's 
 rent. They sent down to order the servants to stop pounding, 
 on the evening when they first heard it, but the cook was 
 alone and had done nothing of the kind. ' They lit candles at 
 night, and, again and again, ransacked the house from garret 
 to cellar, to find out what that confounded knocking could be, 
 and discovered nothing that would any way explain it. Being 
 young people full of health, and with no unsettled accounts 
 worth a dead man's while to come back about, they are get- 
 ting gradually indifferent to it, already alluding to the matter 
 with more fun than terror. 
 
 It is a point gained, (as a riddance of fright on such subjects,) 
 even if we may reasonably question whether all ghosts are 
 respectable enough to be worthy of notice. If, indeed, (as we 
 suggested in our paper of last week,) a new and intelligent 
 medium of electricity is to be subjected to our service — if 
 spirits who will, now, at command, move tables and shake 
 chairs, are to be put under the control of the living — they are, 
 of course, inferior to the spirits still in the body. Is it not a 
 class of the damned who are about being turned to account? 
 "Was there not wanted, in the progress of the world, an intel- 
 ligent slave, to play the messenger between our intellects and 
 the clearer perceptions of the spirit world, and has not Provi- 
 dence given us a clue to communication with this new agent, 
 in these electrical knockings which may be the first lessons in 
 an alphabet of spirit language ? 
 
 Of course there will be much less sinning, when a ghost can 
 be put on the stand for a witness ; and, indeed, it is in this 
 
GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 205 
 
 view, mainly, that we fear it to be a thing for which the world 
 is not quite ready. That spirits are coolly looking on and 
 listening, whatever we do and say, is a fact that has not hith- 
 erto been much of an embarrassment to us — but, when they 
 can go and tell! — virtue becomes inevitable! The pulpit's 
 duty — encouragement to these knockings — is very clear ; but 
 will it be popular, on the, whole, to know things easier than 
 at present, and will people be willing to see established, (what 
 seems very likely,) a system of communication between the 
 other world and this, for a trifling ghostage, as now between 
 cities for a trifling postage — news by ghost easy as news by 
 post? It is a subject with, as Bulwer says, " opens up."* 
 
 * If any one of our clerical friends is- at a loss for a text to a sermon 
 on this subject, we refer him to Job, chap. 1, verse 7. 
 
THE "NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 
 
 Mr. Emerson had the announcing of an era, when he was 
 the first to say that " Lectures were to be the antidote to the 
 newspaper." How the gentlemen Small Pox of the Press 
 will relish this setting up of Lecturers as the Kine-pock-racy 
 of the country, we'shall look with some interest to see*; but 
 the curative itself, thus audaciously announced, is too imjDort- 
 ant a topic to pass over, and we may perhaps say a word or 
 two, as to how so long latent a principle has been brought un- 
 expectedly to bear. 
 
 The vaccination of the Press has been a subject of experi- 
 ment ; but, like the Providence that sent a cure for the great- 
 est scourge of mankind, not through the patient alembics of 
 science, but by the chance-fingered udders of a diseased cow, 
 it was left to indirect means to achieve it. That the newspa- 
 per, which is the only universal medium to the popular 
 mind, should not be laden with a principle of moral health, 
 
 (206) 
 
THE " NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 207 
 
 from the country's purest and best intellect, has seemed, we 
 dare say, not only lamentable but unaccountable, to those 
 who have merely observed and reasoned upon it. They have 
 wondered why Emerson and Henry James, Dewey and Giles, 
 YVhipple and Wendell Holmes, were not Editors. Instead of 
 delivering six lectures a year, to audiences of four or five 
 hundred, why were not such intellects pouring out their trea- 
 sures, daily, each one, to fifty thousand readers ? Why was 
 the elephant harnessed to the go-cart, and the mouse to the 
 load of hay ? 
 
 " In the way of business," like other Editors, we have often 
 turned over the possibility of enlisting this first quality of mind 
 for the Press. A charming book makes the subscription list 
 sigh for as charming an " article," and a brilliant lecture sug- 
 gests what it would cost to have as brilliant a " leader." We 
 have respectfully inquired into the productive habits of genius, 
 made experiments of what it would furnish " to order," and 
 seen experiments made by other Editors and periodicals. Of 
 our own experiments, we may mention one who is too fa- 
 mous to do more than smile, if he ever hears of it — Thacke- 
 ray. Seeing the inimitable graphic power of some of his 
 sketches of real life, we engaged him, some years ago, to give 
 us letters from London. But it was like arranging with a 
 goose fo-r a regular series of foie gras. He sent us his loose 
 feathers, and kept his liver to himself. 
 
 No ! Aaron's beard would not have come down to us in 
 history, if he had but shown the Israelites what he could 
 shave from his chin, day by day ; and Emerson would be un- 
 recognizably diluted, we venture to say, if he were trickled 
 through a daily " editorial." Newspapers have not been to 
 
208 THE RAG-BAG: 
 
 blame that minds like Dewey's and Whipple's have been 
 shelved — never, till recently through Lectures, pouring their 
 wisdom into the great channels for the Many. Hiring such 
 men for regular and compulsory intellectual labor is like hiring 
 a sculptor to macadamize a* road with his statues — the broken- 
 up Venuses and Apollos are not recognised in the smoothness 
 they give, as pumice, to a highway. 
 
 But, it was in destiny, after all, that this difficulty was to 
 be got over. These best minds were to be made to wait till 
 they had an idea, and that idea was to be given undiluted to 
 the newspapers. Emerson was to be made to stay at home, 
 with his cart-loads of Peruvian bark, till he could give all their 
 strength in lecture-pills of quinine. The Press was to be left 
 to run into an epidemic of virulent scribbling, and then (to 
 take effect as an (( antidote,") these minds were to appear in 
 pillule concentration. No Press could have hired it done. No 
 Committee of Ways and Means could have contrived it. But, 
 there goes the diseased newspaper, with the corrective pustule 
 —the "report of last night's lecture" — inserted by the re- 
 porter's quill, and (irrelevant, but professionally interesting) 
 nothing to pay for the virus ! Por their vaccination of the 
 daily papers- the Kine-pock-racy make no charge to the pa- 
 tient ! 
 
 The pride and the purse of the Lecturer are both enlisted, 
 of course, in keeping him at home till he has such ideas as will 
 draw an audience, and the Lecture-room thus works, unex- 
 pectedly, as the intellectual sieve long wanted for pulpits and 
 periodicals. His pride, also, forces him to wait till he has 
 ideas that will not suffer by the stripping of their verbiage — 
 (such as they get by newspaper reporting,) and the report 
 
THE "NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 209 
 
 atones for its freedom by being a trumpet of celebrity, no lec- 
 tures being thus roughly honored except for their force and 
 novelty. 
 
 And this brings us to the wonderful part of the whole 
 matter — the tvillingness of the neivspapers to he inoculated tcith 
 their oiv/i " antidote /" As original contributions or editorials, 
 these reports of lectures would " never do." The conservative 
 views of Dewey, the probing truths of Emerson, the magnifi- 
 cently bold unpopalarisms of Henry James — the newspapers 
 that report them would as soon burn up their subscription 
 books as advance such opinions on their own responsibility. — 
 Duly published they are, however, unqualified and uncontra- 
 dicted ; and so, by the very circulation of the disease itself, 
 the healing principle is carried to the extremities of the land. 
 The Lecture-room is the moral Jenner of our time — though, 
 unlike the vaccine virus, the virtue of its " antidote," springs 
 from the higher perfection, not from the disease, of the animal 
 from whom it is taken. 
 
 "We have but taken up the end of a thread that leads to a 
 great deal of speculation. In the reader's hand we must leave 
 it for the present. 
 
TOWN TOPICS 
 
 The custom of purifying the people of Eome once a year, 
 by publicly smoking them with sulphur and bitumen, gave the 
 name to this most unpleasant of the months — Febrvary mean- 
 ing the month of purification. Whether Servius Tullius, if he 
 were recalled to life and appointed once more to office, in the 
 place of Mayor Kingsland, would still consider the people in 
 need of purification, we are not sure — but that the iveather 
 should be got together and fumigated, every citizen feels. — 
 Never was February more in need of tar and brimstone. The 
 sloppiness of the sidewalks has got into the air, and, of mud, 
 snow and water, every breath seems an un-escape-able mix- 
 ture. Broadway looks like a procession of the unhappy. 
 Lungs pick their way through the atmosphere as feet do 
 through puddles — every man breathing on compulsion, and 
 
 looking as if he wished there were India rubbers for the epi- 
 
 (210) 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 211 
 
 glottis, or that the streets could be swept, sis feet above the 
 pavement. 
 
 It would be unfriendly, by the way, not to mention, to the 
 sufferers by so common an evil, a mechanical alleviation by 
 which we have lately benefitted — no less a thing than what 
 may be defined as a portable warm room, or a contrivance 
 which enables you. to take a walk and carry that luxury along 
 with you. It had never occurred to us, and may not have 
 occurred to the reader, that, staying in the house for bad 
 weather, was making the whole body suffer for the suscepti- 
 bility of a very small portion of it. Nineteen-twentieths of the 
 pores and muscles pleading for exercise, are proof against 
 east winds — by means of gloves and overshoes, greatcoat and 
 flannels. The mouth, only, refuses its consent to the general 
 wish to " go out," not being protected, like the majority of 
 the body's constituents, against exposure to the air. To this 
 reasonable objection of the minority, backed by an influential 
 cough, we were lately obliged to yield ; and it was not till 
 we had been cut off from liberty and exercise for a fortnight, 
 that we learned there was an invention by which the mouth's 
 objection had been overcome. The " respirator" is a sort of 
 veranda for the lips. It is a curved covering for the mouth, 
 formed of several thicknesses of cambric wire, which allow 
 sufficient air for respiration to pass, but, becoming heated 
 with the breath, so temper it that it is like the air of a warm 
 room. It also sifts the air, we understand, of its more humid 
 and denser particles, admitting only the healthier portion. 
 There is a curtain of thin merino falling outside the respira- 
 tor, and when tied on, it looks simply like a black scarf worn 
 over the mouth as a protection against the cold. The eminent 
 
212 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 physician who recommended it to us, said there was no per- 
 suading consumptive ladies to wear it, " it was so unbecom- 
 ing" — but it is no more so than any other wrapper, and, as 
 most of our readers probably prefer life to " becomingness," 
 we take the liberty to recommend it. The sensation is that 
 of walking about with sudden and extraordinary indepen- 
 dence of the weather — the warm air, in which you muffle up 
 at home, seeming to envelope you till your return. 
 
 The Temperance Reform has been the town's great excite- 
 ment for a week or two past. The Voice and Pen, which 
 now do the championship done by the " Sword and Pen" of 
 old, have been fully aroused — the Apostles of the Reform 
 wielding both eloquence and print, and the opponents coming 
 to the encounter with the weapon of print only. With the 
 monstrous amount of intemperate drinking in the six thousand 
 bar-rooms of New York, the need of some reform is pressing 
 enough — but it seems to us that the proposed means are a lit- 
 tle too violent. The making it illegal to vend liquor in New 
 York, would occasion an amount of lying, deceit and hypo- 
 crisy, that would be, we should fear, a most unsafe addition 
 to the deceits of trade, so commented on as an exponent of our 
 national character; and we should fear also that the hostility 
 to the reform might take the shape of a plausible resistance to 
 oppression. God send the city some check to the facility of 
 tippling, pray we — but lying, smuggling and swindling, are a 
 moral intemperance quite as bad, in fact, and much more 
 perpetuated in the character of the people. Here is one, out 
 of scores of paragraphs, showing its effects in the State, of 
 Maine : — 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 213 
 
 " The most ingenious attempts are continually made to evade the 
 operation of the famous Maine Liquor Law, and it requires the utmost 
 vigilance on the part of the officers of justice to thwart these devices of 
 the rum-loving transgressors. The last dodge we have heard of was 
 the filling of a coffin with bottles of liquor, which was taken to Port- 
 land. It was supposed, of course, that no one would think of exa- 
 mining a coffin to find the ardent. However, the sharp eyes of the 
 officers detected the fraud, and the liquor was confiscated. A wag, 
 who saw the operation, remarked that, contrary to the usual course of 
 things, the coffin in this case contained, not the body, but the spirit. 
 A down-east paper states that a famous liquor dealer has put up in 
 quart bottles a vast quantity of pure Holland gin. These bottles are 
 labelled with the name of some wonderful medicine which is adver- 
 tised in all the newspapers as a cure for all diseases. The knowing 
 ones have only to be a little unwell, and procure a bottle of this fa- 
 mous cure-all, in order to obtain what liquor they wish." 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 
 
 The city — its surface, that is to say — has been in a frolic 
 for a week. However the poor have shivered and the 
 wretched mourned, and whatever care and trouble may 
 have been also within the municipal limits — the snow has 
 covered the streets, and fun has covered the snow. Why it 
 is — why loads of passengers shout at each other in passing on 
 runners, when they would not in passing on wheels — why an 
 omnibus vehicle that carries a hundred is merry, and one that 
 carries a dozen is glum — why people are jolly with being cold 
 and uncomfortable in an open sleigh, and mute with being 
 warm and comfortable in a covered carriage — why the driver 
 and his passengers exchange jokes and are friends with good 
 sleighing, and are forever quarrelling through the money-hole 
 with good wheeling — are questions for philosophers who are, 
 more than we, at leisure. Looking merely for the principle of 
 human nature that must lie within all these contradictions, we 
 
 214 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 215 
 
 would suggest to " public men" to inquire whether it be vehi- 
 cular aggregation, sound of sleigh-bells, common resistance of 
 a slight enemy like the cold, or the mere getting along easy 
 without greasing of axle-trees — what the principle is which so 
 slices up the town like a watermelon, and makes each com- 
 bined hundred of people as united and friendly as seeds and 
 pulp held together by the same rind — and whether it could 
 not be used to produce unanimity and good fellowship for 
 something better. » 
 
 The temporary annexation of Brooklyn to New- York, by 
 ice, and the subsequent interruption of intercourse between the 
 two, at the breaking up, have started several very lively ques- 
 tions of convenience and fluctuation of property. A tunnel, 
 like the Thames tunnel, is confidently talked of, to let people 
 pass under the river, and an airy structure like the Menai 
 Bridge, to let foot passengers walk over, though, to clear the 
 sky-scrapers of our packets, this latter must be too high for 
 probability. Any how, the East Eiver has fairly taken its 
 position as " the enemy," and it remains to be seen only how 
 Brooklyn will conquer it. The possibility that days might 
 pass without communication between shore and shore, hits the 
 Long Island suburb on a tender point. Most of the husbands 
 resident there, do business in New- York, and are, already, by 
 the delays and inconveniencies of the Ferry, separated from 
 their families all day. The wives come over to do their shop- 
 ping, and, losing their dinner, lunch in single blessedness at 
 Taylor's. Few people, resident in either place, think of keeping 
 up acquaintances in the other. Theatres, Lectures, Operas and 
 Concerts, don't pay — with the getting home afterwards. It 
 is a part of New- York which has only half the privileges of 
 
216 THE RAG BAG. 
 
 the other inhabitants — husbands half the time, amusements 
 not half as accessible, household gods with one leg in New- 
 York and the other in Brooklyn. We state these evils because 
 we think they are soon to be remedied. The genius of a 
 nation that un-Siamesed two continents at the Isthmus, and 
 invented steam and the telegraph, will not be much bothered 
 to bring the ends of the two Fulton streets together. The 
 large amount of dwelling-house property that lies, by air line, 
 so close to the business heart of^New-York, is object enough, 
 and the 50,000 semi-wives of Brooklyn who wish to be " made 
 whole" and dine, and tea with their husbands, are impulse 
 enough. England has done as wonderful things, and, to believe 
 that there will soon be a subterranean street, from New-York to 
 Brooklyn, one has only to read Thackeray's estimate of the 
 comparative enterprise of the two countries : — 
 
 " John Bull discussed the plan on foot, 
 With slow irresolution, 
 While Yankee Doodle went and put 
 It into execution." 
 
 The town topic which is most instructively interesting, at 
 the present moment, is the official announcement of the start- 
 ling increase of crime among the children of this city. Our 
 readers will remember that we have often called attention to 
 this lamentable branch of our national precocity. The Chief 
 of Police has now made his second formal presentation of it, 
 as a subject of alarm, to the city Government, and there are 
 hopes that it will be taken actively in hand. As we said just 
 now, however, this is but a branch of American precocity. 
 There are interesting features in it quite worth turning over, 
 as a new leaf of human change — perhaps of human progress. 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 217 
 
 Americans are said to live six lives in one. American boys 
 certainly have four or five years " the start" of the boys of 
 any other country. A walk through the streets of New- York, 
 by any good observer who has noticed children in England, is 
 full of surprises. The wit, sagacity, and " grown-up" style of 
 remarks among the jackets-and-trowsers of boys just let out of 
 school, or amusing themselves on the sidewalk, are of a 
 maturity that seems unnatural. Sytems of education, laws of 
 responsibility, articles of indenture, etc., should recognize the 
 difference between being " adult at sixteen or twenty-one." 
 In Eussia they are only adult at twenty- six. It will not be 
 long, we fear, before "juvenescence," so called, will be, in 
 American life, an omitted superfluity. 
 
 The two Operas have been trying one of two disputed ques- 
 tions within the last week. The public, and especially the 
 projectors of another Opera-House, were interested to know 
 where lay the " custom" for the marketable article of Music. 
 "Was it among the diamonds and full dress, or among the 
 bonnets and shawls ? "Would it draw, by greater numbers, 
 as much money at fifty cents as at a dollar-fifty ? Would 
 " the Fashion" divide, and was there not a-half or two-thirds 
 of them who would prefer to go to the Opera in demi-toilette ? 
 Do the Well-offs, as a general thing, prefer to see and hear, 
 or to see and be seen? Where would the beaux go, and 
 would they rather see fifteen hundred in long sleeves than five 
 hundred in short sleeves ? Then comes the substantial sedi- 
 ment of all this effervescent portion of the population — the 
 mere and abstract lovers of music, neither vulgar nor fashion- 
 able, but unconsciously better than either — and where would 
 
 they throw the casting- weight of their approbation? The 
 10 
 
218 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 result, we believe, " has been rather in favor of Niblo's. 
 Among the bonneted audience there has been a rather unex- 
 pected preponderance of the acknowledged Fashion of the city, 
 and there has been an alarming and quite unforeseen migra- 
 tion of the large cravats and nascent mustaches from Astor- 
 Place southward. This latter fact may be attributed partly 
 to the better standing and lounging accommodations at Niblo's, 
 but it is no less a feather in the cap of Bosio. ] We do not 
 speak critically of the comparative merits of the artists at the 
 different houses, partly because we have not time, and partly 
 because it would be of little interest to our country readers ; 
 but we may say that they are both admirable companies, and 
 very much beyond what we have easy reasons for expecting. 
 
CITY NEWS AND CHAT. 
 
 1852 has subsided from the first sparMe of pouring out, and 
 the new bottle seems of quite as acceptable flavor as the last. 
 The city is as gay as in 1851. The carriages with new trunks 
 behind, tell of as many brides starting on their wedding trips, 
 and the funerals go by, as little regarded. Most people are 
 older — and the dating of letters reminds them of it— but they 
 walk the streets as gaily, for aught we can see, as in the year 
 when they were younger. "We do not believe there are many 
 who would go back and live over the old year instead of 
 this ! 
 
 Society up-town shows the slackened appetite at home of 
 
 those who have been abroad at a feast. The great number 
 
 who went to Europe last year, and the greater number who 
 
 have listened to the accounts of Ijpndon and Paris till they 
 
 have become fastidious too, find New- York gayeties diminished 
 
 of their brilliancies. It is a general remark how little interest 
 
 (219) 
 
220 
 
 THE KAG-BAG. 
 
 is felt in balls and parties this year. The charming people who 
 prefer to go to bed at eleven o'clock are startlingly numerous, 
 and society seems to feel, as Carlyle says the country should 
 do — that " its history is yet to begin." 
 
 Of two removeable evils of Broadway, affecting two differ- 
 ent classes, one has been attended to, by the city government. 
 The carmen — four thousand two hundred and sixty men, with 
 each a fine horse and a good deal of influence — have suffered 
 from the smooth slipperiness of the Russ pavement, and a 
 large appropriation has been made for grooving it. The 
 " ladies and gentlemen" — an equally numerous class, with 
 much less influence — have suffered greatly from the needless 
 dust and rubbish of Broadway, but, for the removal of this 
 evil there is no appropriation, nor any election wire to make 
 one likely. 
 
 The amount of well-dressed drunkenness, in the streets, on 
 New Year's day, surprised every one. Between Grace and 
 Trinity, at 4 P. M., we saw a crowd, almost without excep- 
 tion presentable as to broadcloth and linen, yet every third 
 man, at least, quite intoxicated. Either clothes have gone 
 down in the scale of society, or drunkenness has gone up. 
 Either rowdies are more respectably dressed, or respectability 
 is more "addicted." A statistic may drive a nail into this. 
 There are 5,000 licensed bar-rooms in New-York — one to 
 every eighty inhabitants. Suppose, also, we add a picture of 
 it, from the police report of New Year's day in the Tri- 
 bune : — 
 
 " In the Eleventh Ward an unusual number of men were arrested 
 for drunkenness, creating a mob, exciting a riot, insulting females, and 
 other offences to which men of low breeding, when intoxicated, are 
 
CITY NEWS AND CHAT. 221 
 
 addicted. John Baltz was arrested by officer "Wells for entering, 
 uninvited, the house of Phillip Herring, during his absence, and insult- 
 ing his wife. In many of the upper Wards, something less than one 
 hundred men were arrested for entering residences in which they 
 never were before, and where they knew not a soul, and after eating 
 and drinking without molestation to their hearts' content, maliciously 
 breaking decanters, dishes, scattering the provisions about the prem- 
 ises, and not content with that, in many instances breaking windows, 
 doors, and behaving more like fiends than men. Those arrested were 
 taken before Justice Mountfort to await an examination." 
 
 People are getting walls around them. Two thousand 
 four hundred buildings were erected in New-York last year, 
 and three of them, in the Fifth Avenue, cost $50,000 each. 
 There is probably no city in the world, however, where the 
 outside of the house is so out of proportion to the living within. 
 It is a statistic very much wanted — what should be the pro- 
 portion of a man's rent to his year's marketing. We are 
 encouraged to hope for this valuable particularity of knowledge, 
 by seeing the statistical tables of Massachusetts. In that 
 populous and wealthy State, it has been ascertained that there 
 are but fourteen hundred and ninety-six persons who are worth 
 fifty thousand dollars, and only three hundred and seventy-five 
 who are benevolent ! 
 
 New- York looks almost like a foreign city, at the present 
 moment, from the multiplicity of Magyar hats with black fea- 
 thers. The hats, without the feathers, were, at first, largely 
 adopted by the men of fashion ; but they are now almost uni- 
 versal, feathers and all, among the rowdies and youths at 
 large. A feather being a thing of elegant leisure, looks very 
 droll on a man who has the air of going an errand, or who 
 looks away from home without his wheel-barrow. Still, there 
 
222 THE RAG-BAG; 
 
 is, here and there, a naturally picturesque youth, even among 
 the loafers, on whom the slouched rim and black plume sit 
 like proper belongings. Nature tickets people for places they 
 don't occupy. 
 
 The two English officers who have been here, and who 
 resigned their commissions in the army to follow Kossuth, are 
 very much and very admiringly talked of. There were at the 
 Union Hotel, for a few days, but have now gone to Washing- 
 ton. It is understood that they are men of fortune, who go 
 for glory only, and, certainly, it is a crusade for Liberty that 
 is likely to tempt many a chivalric heart. The opportunity is 
 fine, and Kossuth is a cozur de lion whom the modern paladins 
 might well follow. 
 
 The "World's .Fair, No. 2, is stated as positively to come 
 off in New- York, next April, and the London papers contain 
 definite directions for the conveying of goods, etc. The influx 
 of intelligent foreigners which it is likely to bring, and their 
 effect upon the opinions and manners of society, in so chame- 
 leon a city, would not be the least important of its results. 
 We do not see that our. half dozen locomotive citizens are 
 getting up steam on the subject, however. 
 
PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 
 
 The way we " Public" sit still, and see ourself got up into 
 an enthusiasm, is a phenomenon, in its way. It reminds us 
 of a fat man whom we once saw deliver himself up to a mes- 
 merizer ; and, wishing well to the operation with all his heart, 
 endeavored so to sit, look, and dispose his legs and arms, that 
 the " influence" might have an easy time in getting possession 
 of him. We love to be " carried away." We love to be sub- 
 jected to a new " complete furore" We love to have a 
 new singer astonish, overwhelm and make a fortune out of us. 
 And, of the indispensable preliminary process — the puff, the 
 humbug, the appeal to popular enthusiasms and nationalities, 
 the anecdotes, portraits and biographies — we are anxious 
 watchers, encouragers and willing enchan-tees. 
 
 The "■' preliminary process," however, is rather a compli- 
 cated science. It cannot be easily or accidentally understood. 
 
 Barnum, who is its Newton, should found a college to teach 
 
 (223) 
 
224 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 it, and it should be a regular profession — in which, we may 
 add, only Americans should take degrees ; for, foreigners, or 
 those who have not lived long in the country, can have no 
 inkling of its mysteries. That any celebrity, who has been 
 so unwise as to bring her manager from the other side of the 
 water, should drop him like a hot potato and pick up a cool 
 Yankee in his place — is a bit of advice that it would be hospit- 
 able to intrust to a perpetual committee, and have it delivered 
 to every great artist on her landing at the Battery. 
 
 Our country readers, (we are writing to them particulary, 
 just now,) do not perhaps know what a complex body the 
 New- York " Public" is, and how difficult it is to prepare all 
 their varied sensibilities to be pleased — for instance with the 
 same musical novelty. It requires as distinct and diverse 
 management, as to get the same tune, at the same time, out 
 of flute, trombone and trumpet, fife, fiddle and bass drum. 
 The Press of course — that is to say, the gentlemen who do 
 the musical criticisms for the different papers — are to be first 
 propitiated. We presume there is some coffee-house, reading- 
 room or artistic resort in London, where the names and 
 addresses of these articulating organs of public opinion are 
 duly registered and accessible. They are politely written to, 
 and furnished with prophetic material, from the first moment 
 that a " star" makes up her mind to culminate on America, 
 and are; thenceforward, carefully kept advised of all her move- 
 ments, parting triumphs, etc., etc., till she is fairly embarked 
 and on her way to our appreciative shores. 
 
 The next most important class, (but quite the most difficult) 
 to please and propitiate, is that of the foreigners and musical 
 dilettanti. Their peculiarity, as a class, is, that they know 
 
PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 225 
 
 music when they hear it. The quality of the new singer is 
 understood by them at once — though it is by no means certain 
 that a fair and generous opinion will at once be expressed. 
 Personal and national prejudices may make a large difference, 
 for or against, and it is upon this uncertain ground that the 
 propitiation is to do its work. Their attendance, on the 
 second night of the new star's performance, must be secured 
 by any cost of diplomacy. The fullest house — unsprinkled 
 with plump arms and sallow complexions, heavy moustaches, 
 and black cravats without shirt-collars — is ominous ! " No 
 foreigners there !" is the dispraise most significant, among 
 opera-goers and town loungers. 
 
 Then there is the moral and religious class, whose sensibilities 
 are more simply reached. Admiration for the private char- 
 acter of a new star, constitutes, with them, the main excellence 
 of her singing, and this is awakened by anecdotes of her benev- 
 olence, her amiable manners, her early struggles, her interest 
 in benevolent Institutions and her habitual deportment on the 
 Sabbath. The writers who do up this portion of a singer's 
 popularity, have the easiest task, though they affect quite the 
 most numerous and paying portion of the Public. 
 
 To the fashionable class there is no very direct or reliable 
 gate of humbug. Their patronage seems the result of a 
 caprice to which there is no permanent handle. They like, or 
 dislike, very unexpectedly — though, at them are aimed, with 
 persevering suggestiveness, the carefully written accounts of 
 the Queen's delight with the new singer, and her various com- 
 pliments and presents from Duchesses, Countesses, foreign 
 Princes, etc., etc. If we might hazard a remark that may be 
 useful to a singer's man of business — the propitiation of this 
 
226 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 class, perhaps, may as well be left out altogether; partly 
 because it offends the majority, with whom the class is 
 unpopular, and partly because the fashionables, having an 
 objection to those mammoth audiences (in which an individual 
 toilette is lost like a drop in the ocean) are only likely to be 
 drawn by curiosity, which needs no special propitiation. In 
 Europe the first and most important step is to secure the pat- 
 ronage of the Fashionable Few ; in this country, it is as, well, 
 or better to let them alone. 
 
 Then there are the Young Ladies' Schools — an immensely 
 important portion of the Public, whose numerical and moral 
 patronage of a " star" is very influential — and the propitiation 
 of this class is through the Teachers and Trustees, and by 
 visits, invitations, and other means easily understood. They 
 have a public opinion of their own, however, these same 
 Young Ladies — and on any question of popular taste, they 
 are to be conciliated and appealed to. 
 
 There are numerous smaller classes, or sub-divisions of 
 classes, of which a proper Professor of Public Enthusiasm 
 would understand the " soft soldering." There are individuals 
 too, whose potential voices must be honeyed over — such as 
 the Captains of the North Eiver steamboats, and the keepers 
 of the different hotels. The " star" should bring letters of 
 introduction, if possible, to the three ladies whose musical 
 parties concentrate the three most considerable classes of 
 lovers of music in New York. Still lesser influences are to 
 be made sure of — but we have said enough to convey to our 
 country readers some outline of what is to be worked upon 
 in a " getting up." It is a job, complex and of kaleidoscopic 
 changeableness • and it takes the genius which studied up the 
 
PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 227 
 
 bottom of the yacht America, the locks of Hobbs, and the 
 seven-barrelled revolver, with one trigger — Yankee genius, in 
 short — to do it with any tolerable continuousness of success. 
 
 But — while we worship the " stars," and enjoy being made 
 to believe that each is a whole world in itself — let us do it 
 with our eyes open. Let us know the difference between a 
 star and an asterisk. Let us not be laughed at on the other 
 side of the water, for swallowing anything with a great name 
 — anything about which they can contrive to make noise 
 enough ! The English themselves are humbugged — oh how 
 preciously ! — by musical wonders. Let us ask for the seal of 
 Italy, Germany and France upon what we receive with our 
 " five thousand" audiences — not be content with that of Lon- 
 don only. Let us make America understood as the highest 
 round on the ladder of artistic success. But — a word of ex- 
 planation as to that : — 
 
 Italy is the school of the musical artist, and she goes there 
 for her strictest first trial and degree.' Paris is her compli- 
 mentary stage, where her merits are confirmed by carefully 
 measured applause, and where she receives her most accepta- 
 ble personal homage as an artist. London is her glorification 
 place, where the trumpets blow equally loud for all whom the 
 managers have once undertaken, and where the newspapers 
 — never trusted or believed on the spot — make reputations for 
 anywhere at a distance. But, America is the place tvhere 
 she makes the money. London pays well, but it is the mana- 
 ger who pockets the surplus. Paris pays reasonably and 
 moderately. Italy scarce pays enough for a livelihood — Ger- 
 many hardly, more. But New York is, noiv, the artist's 
 Golden Gate — the first place where she sings to as many as 
 
228 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 can be reached by her voice, where the Public can be " got 
 up" by a manager of her own appointing, and where the glit- 
 tering thousands are paid into her own admired and private 
 pocket. 
 
 Now, we say, let us exact something for the better price 
 that we pay — let us have the worth of our money, as far as 
 the " best article" can give it. And, not merely in the singer 
 herself, let us demand the best of the market, but in the ac- 
 companiments she brings. Jenny Lind respected our rights 
 in this matter, by the quality of her leader, Benedict, of Bel- 
 letti and Salvi, and by an orchestra upon which there was no 
 sparing of cost and care. Let us have it understood in Europe 
 — that fortunes are to be made in America, but only by the 
 best artists and with their best prepared efforts and arrange- 
 ments. "We cannot nationally pretend to the instinctive musi- 
 cal genius of the Italians, to the nice culture and disciplined 
 taste of the French, nor to the science and rapid enthusiasm 
 of the Germans — but we are learning music with startling ra- 
 pidity, and we are sharp enough to find ways of knowing what 
 quality of singer it is that wants a fortune out of us, and whe- 
 ther such other considerations have been attended to as shall 
 make our enthusiasm rational and respectable. 
 
THE M0THEE8 OF THE BIBLE 
 
 There are thefts to which we would add a gift — thieves to 
 whom we wish so well that we say " take more." One is be- 
 fore us — a beautiful New Year's book called " The Mothers 
 of the Bible." These — the " only mothers of whom God has 
 ever spoken," though "to millions upon millions he has given the 
 care of children" are described, in this volume, by compila- 
 tions from Scripture, with narrative comment by the authoress, 
 and by poems upon the same class of themes, taken from dif- 
 ferent authors. The instructive and touching pictures of the 
 mothers who are the Sacred selection for portraiture, are thus 
 brought to the familiar attention and study of parents and 
 children, and a more useful subject for a volume that is to be 
 a New Year's gift, could hardly have been thought of. In tho 
 Introduction, by Bev. Dr. Stone, of Boston, he says : — " Two 
 immediate objects seem to have influenced the author of the 
 following pages, (Mrs. Ashton,) in preparing them for the 
 press : one, to prompt her readers to a diligent and careful 
 study of the Bible ; the other to quicken, in those who sus- 
 tain the maternal relation, a sense of their responsibility, and 
 
 (229) 
 
230 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 to inspire them with a more prayerful devotion to their solemn 
 trust. To gather into one picture gallery, from the wide 
 ranges and scattered sketches of inspiration, the portraitures 
 of those in the elder ages who wrought blessing or cursing in 
 this one relation ; to lead all, who may gaze with interest upon 
 the faint copies, to seek for themselves the presence of the 
 originals, and so to help the sanctification of the homes of our 
 land, is the mission on which this little volume is sent forth." 
 There are remarks of singular truthfulness and beauty scat- 
 tered all through the prose narrative of this volume. They 
 bespeak a tender and meditative nature in the writer. Of the 
 poems, two are by one of the Editors of this paper, ( { The 
 Shunamite,' and the * Widow of Nam,') and we only regret that 
 another poem of our own, which we will presently quote, was 
 not added to the " appropriation." It has been one of the 
 most valued rewards of our life that we have been "set in 
 gold" — the gold of the better memory of the world — by hav- 
 ing a place given us in school-books and hymn-books, and by 
 finding lines of our penning in the volumes which Sacred Lit- 
 erature pronounces worthy. To those who take from us for 
 such disposal, we say thankfully " take more." Of the poem 
 which we herewith offer, in addition, we would simply remark 
 that it was the versification of thoughts upon the probable 
 daily reciprocities of duty and tenderness between Christ and 
 his mother, in the Saviour's childhood — suggested by the 
 reading of that exquisite narrative, the second chapter of Luke. 
 
 chkist's mother. 
 
 The boy was sad, yet fair 
 The marvels of his birth were strange to hear — 
 And, to regard his gentle face and speak 
 Some fond word of him to his youthful mother 
 Seemed kindness to the humbled Nazarenes 
 
THE MOTHERS OE THE BIBLE. 231 
 
 "Who stopped at Mary's door : — but thoughtfully 
 
 She listened to their praises of the child — 
 
 So less than all she knew — and let her heart 
 
 Look with its answer up to God. And day 
 
 Followed on day, like any childhood's passing ; 
 
 And silently sat Mary at her wheel, 
 
 And watched the boy Messiah as she spun ; 
 
 And — as a human child, unto his mother 
 
 " Subject" the while — he did her low-yoiced bidding. 
 
 Or gently came to lean upon her knee 
 
 And ask her of the thoughts that in him stirred 
 
 Dimly as yet, or with affection sweet, 
 
 Tell murmuring of his weariness ; and there, 
 
 All tearful-hearted, as a human mother 
 
 Unutterably fond, while touched with awe — 
 
 She paused, or with a tremulous hand spun on — 
 
 The blessing that her lips instinctive gave, 
 
 Asked of Him with an instant thought again. 
 
 And when they " went up to Jerusalem, 
 
 After the custom of the feast," and there 
 
 " Fulfilled the days," and back to Nazareth 
 
 "Went a day's journey, and sought Jesus there, 
 
 Among their kinsfolk who had gone before, 
 
 And found him not — the mother's heart of Mary 
 
 "Well knew, that, wheresoever strayed the child, 
 
 He could not go by angels unattended ; 
 
 But, therefore, was her tenderness untroubled ? No. 
 
 Tho' in her memory lay Gabriel's words, 
 
 Brought her on wings at God's own-throne unfolded ; 
 
 Though, in rapt speech, Anna the prophetess 
 
 Had named him the Redeemer, newly born — 
 
 And Simeon, forbidden to see death 
 
 Till he had seen the Christ, had taken Him 
 
 Into his arms, and prayed that he might now 
 
 Depart in peace — though, of the song they sang, 
 
 (That host, who, while the glory of the Lord 
 
 Shone round about, told of his birth by night 
 
 Unto the shepherds as they watched), she knew 
 
 The burden was a work yet unfulfilled — 
 
 To Him the Saviour given, and yet, to do. — 
 
 Still was the child she loved gone from her now, 
 
 And Mary " sought him sorrowing." 
 
 And who 
 " Kept all his sayings in her heart" but Mary % 
 It was not with unnatural brightness beaming 
 From the fair forehead of the boy, nor yet 
 By revelations from his infant lips 
 Too wondrous to deny, that Jesus first 
 Gave out the dawn of the Messiah morn 
 Breaking within his soul. "With wisdom only 
 
282 THE RAG BAG. 
 
 Reached by the child's simplicity — so oft 
 Truer than sage's lore — and outward pressed 
 By the divinity half conscious now, 
 He argued in the Temple, and amazed 
 The elders, seated in their midst — but none, 
 In these first teachings, saw the Son of God, 
 And he went back to Nazareth — a child — 
 Unsought by the disputing priests again, 
 And his strange words forgotten but by Mary, 
 
 Who " KEPT THEM IN HER HEART.' 
 
 Oh, not alone 
 In his pure teachings and in Calvary's wo, 
 Lay the blest errand of the Saviour here. 
 His walk through life's dark pathway blessed yet more. 
 Distant from God so infinitely far 
 Was human weakness, till He came to bear, 
 With us, our weaknesses awhile, that fear 
 Had heard Jehovah's voice in thunder only, 
 And worshipped trembling. Heaven is nearer, now. 
 At God's right hand sits One who was a child, 
 Born as the humblest, and who here abode 
 Till of our sorrows he had suffered all. 
 They who now weep, remember that He wept. 
 The tempted, the despised, the sorrowing, feel 
 That Jesus, too, drauk of these cups of wo. 
 And oh, if of our joys he tasted less — 
 If all but one passed from his lips away — 
 That one — a mother's love — by his partaking 
 Is like a thread of heaven spun through our life, 
 And we, in the untiring watch, the tears, 
 The tenderness and fond trust of a mother, 
 May feel a heavenly closeness unto God — 
 For such, all human in its blest excess, 
 Was Mary's love for Jesus. 
 
 There is another passage of the Saviour's life — His own ten- 
 derness for children, as shown in the days just preceding His 
 last hour— which has always seemed to us almost the purest 
 gem of the divine poetry of the Bible. " Then were there 
 brought unto him little children, that he should put his hands 
 on them and pray : and the disciples rebuked them. But Je- 
 sus said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid 
 them not; for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." From a 
 poem on this subject, (which has, like the preceding one of 
 
THE MOTHERS OF THE BIBLE. 233 
 
 our own, fallen out of notice,) we venture to make an extract, 
 as one more gift to the literature of mother and child. The 
 following were the concluding lines : 
 
 The eventide 
 Found Him among his questioners — the same ; 
 Patient and meek as in the morning hour — 
 And while the Scribes, with His mild answers foiled, 
 Sat by and reasoned in their hearts, behold 
 There was a stir in the close multitude, 
 And voices pleaded to come nigh ; and, straight, 
 The crowd divided, and a mother came, 
 Holding her bahe before her, and on Christ 
 Fixing her moist eyes steadfastly. He turned, 
 Benignant, as she tremblingly came near ; 
 And the sad earnestness His face had worn 
 While He disputed with the crafty Scribes, 
 "Was touched with the foreshadowing of a smile. 
 And, lo ! another, and another still, 
 Led by this sweet encouragement to come, 
 Pressed where the first had made her trusting way ; 
 And soon, a fair young company they stood — 
 A band, who (by a lamp of love, new lit, 
 And fed by oil of tenderness from Heaven — 
 By recognition, instinct as the eye 
 To know, 'mid clouds, the twinkle of a star — 
 By mother's love) knew what must holiest he, 
 And where to bring their children to be blest. 
 And as Christ looked upon them, where they stood, 
 And each would lay her infant in His arms, 
 To see it there, and know that He had borne 
 Her burden on His bosom, there rose up 
 Some of the Twelve ; and, mindful of the night, 
 And of the trials of the weary day, 
 They came between, and bade them to depart, 
 And trouble not the Master. Then did Christ, 
 Reproving His disciples, call again 
 The mothers they had turned from Him away ; 
 And, leaning gently tow'rd them as they came, 
 Tenderly took the babes unto His arms, 
 And laid his hand upon their foreheads fair, 
 And blest them, saying : Suffer them to come ; 
 For, in my Father's kingdom, such are they. 
 Whoso is humble as a little child, 
 The same is greatest in the courts of heaven. 
 Spotless is infancy, we fondly feel. 
 Angels in heaven are like it, He hath said. 
 Mothers have dreamed the smile upon the lips 
 
234 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Of slumbering babes to be the memory 
 
 Of a bright world they come from ; and that, here, 
 
 'Mid the temptations of this fallen star, 
 
 They 'bide the trial for a loftier sphere — 
 
 Ever progressing. Fearfully, if so, 
 
 Give we, to childhood, guidance for high heaven ! 
 
 But, be this lofty vision as it may, 
 
 Christ blessed them, here. And, oh ! if in the hour 
 
 Of His first steps to Calvary, and 'mid 
 
 The tempters, who, He knew, had thus begun 
 
 The wrongs that were to lead Him to the cross ; 
 
 If here, 'mid weariness and gathering wo, 
 
 The heart of Christ turned meltingly to them, 
 
 And, for a harsh word to these little ones, 
 
 Though uttered but with sheltering care for Him, 
 
 He spoke rebukingly to those He loved — 
 
 If babes thus pure and priceless were to Christ — 
 
 Holy, indeed, the trust to whom they're given ! 
 
 Sacred are they ! 
 
 Poetry is a garment of thought which, seems to be falling 
 into disrespect, and likely therefore, though the disrespect may 
 be partly owing to its frequency and vulgar familiarity, to be 
 less employed for thought-wear, by those who might wear it 
 best. It seems to us, however, that, though prose may dis- 
 place its more skilful use on all subjects of mere human inter- 
 est and passion, it is the natural garb of things holy. The 
 mind instinctively puts on that robe to stand in the presence 
 of God. The prayer, the psalm, the penitence, the pathos of 
 religion, ask for some loftier poem of words. It would be a 
 beautiful destiny of poetry if it were gradually set aside from 
 comm on use, and consecrated like a sisterhood of language, 
 to sacred service only. We should feel such a change to be 
 a step of that Millennial separation and purification which 
 must somehow take place, and which will probably be thus 
 gradual and simple. 
 
LETTEE ON PASSING TOPICS. 
 
 Highland Terrace, Oct. — . 
 Dear. Morris : 
 
 I enclose you a subject for a poem — a scarlet maple-leaf, 
 whose fall from the tree has been noticed and mused over. It 
 was detached by the gentlest of breezes, and fell into the road 
 before me to-day, as I rode along the bank of the river. Glo- 
 rious as it was in color, but likely to be trampled on by the 
 first stray cattle that should come along, I turned back, (after 
 carefully taking the side of the road that I might not injure it 
 in passing,) dismounted, admired it more minutely, and pre- 
 served it, as you see. Embalm it and its destiny in a song ! 
 It will thus be made a sweet exception to the wilderness of 
 bright leaves that dropped, that same hour, and are for- 
 gotten. 
 
 What a return of bright weather we are enjoying ! The 
 equinox is like a darn in the heel of the departing Summer. 
 
236 TSE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Once over that, you may find stitches as good as new, up to 
 the garter of Winter. With the air so much more bracing, 
 and the marvellous enhancement of rural beauty by the foliage 
 of Autumn, the country is certainly much more enjoyable, 
 this month — yet all our metropolitans are flown. My own 
 latitude and longitude are in the hands of the doctors, it is 
 true, and I am " prescribed" to keep a range of mountains 
 between me and the seaboard ; but, with the best of health 
 and liberty to choose, I should outstay the first changing of 
 the leaf. The paled and be-dimmed fancy re-colors with it 
 after the languor of summer. Nature rallies, from getting to 
 look shabby with the sultriness and shorn harvest, the dust 
 and " dry time." The world seems better worth making an 
 effort to see more of. 
 
 And how looks the town ? My life is so equally divide 
 between horseback and dry toast that I hear little of th 
 news. The papers seem mainly occupied with the death o: 
 " The Iron Duke," and, truly, that event was a large " caving 
 off" from the sand-hill of the present. The great commander 
 filled probably a larger space in the eye of the world at large 
 — and one, too, of a longer continued and better sustained 
 respect and admiration — than any man living. Of the direct, 
 the practical, the judicious and possible, His Grace was the 
 wondrous master — never misled by imagination, of which he 
 had not a ray. So utter was this wing-clipping but success 
 ensuring and judgment-balancing deficiency, that, in the early- 
 part of his career, his advice was asked on all practical ques- 
 tions, by all in the army who had access to him. I once dined 
 in company with an old Commissary-General, who dilated 
 largely on this. He had served with him in various wars, and 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 237 
 
 was accustomed to consult him on all his more important 
 movements for the army's portage and provender — the Duke 
 then an officer living mainly on his pay. He contrasted the 
 regal state and splendor with which His Grace liyed, of late 
 years, at the corner of Hyde Park, with the emphasis with 
 which he had once heard him express his desire for a compa- 
 ratively moderate income. It was a question whether it 
 would be worth some man's while to take a certain contract 
 of military supplies for five hundred a year. The future 
 Duke, then a Lieutenant, was in his tent, undressing to go to 
 bed. He listened to the Commissary's statement while pull- 
 ing off his boots, and, as the sum was named, he threw one 
 of them into the corner with great emphasis : — " Five hundred 
 
 a year, man !" said he ; "I would go to for five hundred 
 
 a year !" And this vivid appreciation of money seems to 
 have been little dulled by gain and glory, for, as is well 
 known, His Grace has been, for the last two or -three years, 
 a persevering but unsuccessful suitor for the hand of London's 
 [greatest heiress. 
 
 The Duke looked very long-lived. He dressed young. His 
 habitual blue frock-coat was a tight fit, well padded over the 
 chest, and cut very short, his white pantaloons were nicely 
 strapped over his instep, and the rim of his fashionable hat 
 was so narrow as to furnish a perpetual feature to the carica- 
 turist. He was seen on horseback, with a groom in livery 
 at some distance behind him, every day, rain or shine, in the 
 London " season," and where the crowd was not too great, 
 ':ie would bow courteously to all who raised their hats to him 
 —looking, (but for that wonderful nose of authority and expe- 
 
238 
 
 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 rience,) like some elegant club man of forty. I chanced to be 
 walking in the Kensington Eoad when he passed, on his re- 
 turn from a morning ride, five or six years ago, and I was 
 quite impressed with the stylish youthfulness with which 
 (then a veteran of almost eighty) he sat his horse. My daugh- 
 ter, a child of four years, was with me, and, forgetting that 
 great men can see when they are pointed at, I followed a sud- 
 den impulse by trying to impress upon her memory that she 
 had seen so great a celebrity. There was no one else near, 
 and, as he passed, he gave the little starer a bow and a smile ; 
 and it was by this habitually easy and ready courtesy, ex- 
 tended to all who acknowledged their recognition of him, that 
 the Duke won many a heart among the common people. 
 
 Two of the dwellers on the border of Hyde Park — and cer- 
 tainly the two most personally conspicuous men in the world, 
 however they may otherwise have differed — Wellington and 
 Count D'Orsay — have died within three months. They were 
 the two horsemen who were daily the two most prominent 
 sights of " Rotten Row" — the Duke wearing the narrowest 
 rimmed hat, and D'Orsay the broadest-rimmed hat, in all Lon- 
 don. But, under those two differing brims, and. with those 
 two very different reputations, there was a quality common to 
 both — a clear-headed good sense, relied upon, by their respec- 
 tive circles, each like an oracle. As a proverbial umpire in • 
 argument, a reference to decide questions of conduct and 
 manners, a remarkably successful pacificator in quarrels, a 
 manager of preliminaries for sports and ceremonies, and an 
 adviser continually appealed to and trusted, Count D'Orsay 
 led a busy life for others. He was to Fashion and the Clubs 
 
LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 239 
 
 what Wellington was to the Queen and his country — best 
 fridhd and counsellor most relied on. 
 
 Superiority in trifles enrages the Public against a man, as 
 the red flag enrages the bull — provoking a hostility with shut 
 eyes. Nothing could well be more undiscriminating and ob- 
 stinately and blindly untruthful than the common reputation 
 of D'Orsay. His excessive personal beauty and that infallible 
 and artistic taste in dress which he indulged, perhaps, too irre- 
 spectively of general compliance and usage, acted like an insult 
 on the community at large. Few weak-minded men ever for- 
 gave D'Orsay, after seeing him pass. And there stopped the 
 knowledge and appreciation of him. His complete good nature, 
 his willing and ready sympathy, his hearty and frank good 
 fellowship, and really unaffected simplicity and single-hearted- 
 ness — qualities visible enough through an ill-made coat and an 
 awkward demeanor and person — were invisible in him. He 
 was more than a supremely handsome good fellow. He had 
 genius as a painter and sculptor, which, considering the at- 
 tractions out of doors, and a life so hostile to patient industry, 
 he cultivated with wonderful success. D'Orsay was the bold- 
 est horseman, the keenest sportsman, the best rifle-shot, 
 and most skilful swordsman of his time — and it is hard to 
 be all this and an artist besides. But canvass and marble 
 show, now, that he found time to work, and had thoughts of 
 beauty which he could imprison and perfect. 
 
 The sovereign Public lets alone nine men, and busies 
 itself with the private history of the tenth, and, by this arbi- 
 trary decimation, Count D'Orsay has famously suffered. The 
 truth as to his character and life would look very different 
 
240 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 from the common story, I believe. He is beyond minding, 
 now, what is said of him, however, and to one battledore let 
 the shuttlecock be left. 
 
 I have scribbled my candle nearly out. Shall we say good 
 night where we are, my dear Morris ? 
 
 Yours truly. 
 
PORTRAITS OF THKEE NEW YORK BELLES. 
 
 I 
 
 FLORENCE HAY. 
 
 There is a mystery about Florence Hay. The calm man- 
 ner of polite lack of interest with which she goes into society, 
 of late — the reluctance of her smiles, as if it were a matter of 
 second thought — the fall, of at least two notes, in the habitual 
 cadence of her voice — a something that is too proud to be 
 religion, too decisive to be melancholy, and quite too un-capri- 
 cious and regular to be love — form a problem which puzzles 
 the relatives of the once " volatile coquette," as much as it 
 does her admirers, female friends, rivals and general acquain- 
 tances. The only guess which has even an air of probability, 
 is in the speech of one of her unsuccessful adorers, (a young 
 man who is a cypher where cyphers tell — added on to a fortune) 
 and he says " she is waiting for an English lord !" 
 
 Like most American girls, the fair Florence " came out" 
 11 241 
 
242 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 several years too early, Finding nobody but herself astonished 
 at her passing for a woman, she had easily put her diffidence 
 away with her school satchel and pantalettes, and took to so- 
 ciety like a bird to the air. Her beauty of face was of that 
 choicest kind which Nature jealously puts under lock and key 
 — making it visible, that is to say, only when the owner pleases. 
 When she turned only her eyes upon you, she was plain — 
 when she turned her mind upon you, she was beautiful. In 
 her figure, however, (a department of beauty which unartistic 
 people admire without knowing it, if at all,) there were, even 
 at the age of sixteen, certain marks of a superior order of 
 creature. Her large lungs were built as a home for enthusiasm, 
 and her shoulders and neck held her head up as if they were 
 proud of it. What there was in her motion that was singular 
 and impressive, no casual observer could explain ; but it was 
 what no dancing-master could teach — the deliberately exact 
 obedience, of every pulse, nerve, and muscle, to the will of a 
 proportionate nature. Her limbs neither anticipated a thought 
 of movement, nor lagged behind it. The most sudden change 
 of posture was followed by immediate repose — no particle of 
 the system having been taken by surprise, and none, of course, 
 requiring that adjustment with which most people put them- 
 selves at their case after motion. 
 
 From the generosity and sanguine hope which were predomi- 
 nant qualities of her temperament, Florence began acquain- 
 tance by believing the best, of every body. Of course she 
 had treated most of the young men, in the society around her, 
 better than they deserved, and, of course, had made very 
 nearly the same number of conquests. As she discovered the 
 deficiencies she had been too noble to anticipate, they naturally 
 
THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 243 
 
 attributed to coquetry the crystal wall of indifference which 
 viewlessly cut off their magnetism, and so she passed for a 
 flirt — even with those good people, (oftenest short-sighted, 
 alas !) who would have loved her for the very conduct they 
 condemned, if they had looked a little deeper into the motive. 
 
 You may anticipate manners — a girl of seventeen may as- 
 sume the manners of a woman of twenty-five — but you cannot 
 much hurry the growth of character. Pot your flower in 
 porcelain, if you please, it will blow very much as it would in 
 an earthen jar. At nineteen — after having been treated like 
 " a responsible adult" for three years — Florence Hay first 
 began to see society and life with mature perceptions, and to 
 wonder how so much, that formed the burthen of the air 
 around her, had been prevented from breathing immediately 
 on her intuitive sense. The thick leaves that enclose the bud 
 of youth so wisely guard its heart till the common air cannot 
 taint nor cold winds chill it ! In the change of the worm, 
 from its limited chrysalis to the free-winged and tireless but- 
 terfly, there is scarce more entire, (and often, probably, scarce 
 more sudden,) newness of impulse and novelty in the con- 
 sciousness of life, than in the change that takes place at the ma- 
 turing of the mind of a woman. It is a lifting of the eyelids 
 of thought, as brief, almost, as the waking from a dream. 
 -Though, as was said above, it is seldom anticipated, it is often 
 retarded ; and sometimes, (at critical risk to happiness,) takes 
 place years after marriage. 
 
 With what has been said, and with a portion of a letter 
 that will presently be given, the fair reader must be left to in- 
 terpret, for herself, the mystery that there is about Florence 
 Hay. The letter was written to a gentleman with whom she 
 
24A THE HAG BAG 
 
 had formed the friendship of which superior women are capa- 
 ble — (one in whom she had recognized a truthful appreciation 
 and deference for what was most admirable in her sex, at the 
 same time with a devotion so guardedly high-minded, that love 
 could never enter, uninvited, by the door thrown open to it) 
 — and, to him, she wrote more frankly, perhaps, as well as 
 more gravely and philosophically, than she might have done 
 to a woman. Dated at Newport, in July, some passing gossip 
 occupied a page, and then the fair writer turned over the leaf, 
 and a leaf of her heart with it — thus : — 
 
 " In glancing once more at your letter, I see you hope I am finding 
 some one to love. I would, willingly, for I feel as if there were 
 thoughts of mine, here and there, that are worth somebody's having, 
 but the right claimant certainly does not seem to be at Newport this 
 year. Papa's wealth is my misfortune, for it brings me so many bid- 
 ders for the little hand that is in'liis pocket, that I must seem more 
 difficult and ungracious than my deservings justify ; but what can I do 
 if the right man is the very last to come along 1 These beaux with 
 moustachios and horses look very well, drive very well, and talk very 
 well the first time or two that one sees them ; but, whose fault is it 
 if one find oneself irrecoverably tired of them on the third day ? I 
 really cannot accept, for the remainder of my life, the society of a man 
 whose mind I have already seen the end of. 
 
 " The truth is, that, like other sovereigns, (I am sovereign of my trifle 
 of a heart, I believe,) I look into history and precedent for guidance 
 and warning — history from now, back to the time I began to know 
 anything, I mean. The marriages that have taken place in my time, 
 in New- York, their 'rise, progress and remarkable events,' I have 
 carefully studied in the humble hope to profit by such lessons as they 
 inevitably teach. And what do you suppose strikes me as the one 
 terrible monition and sad lesson deducible from them all 1 It will 
 be no news to you, of course, for you have seen the world and the 
 
THREE NEW YOEK BELLES. 245 
 
 heiresses therein ; but, to simple me, the usual and combined fate of 
 these swimmers with bags of gold round their necks, looks startlingly 
 alarming. I have not the courage to write down abruptly what it is. 
 You may gather it from what eccentricities you see me commit, here- 
 after, for the sake of avoiding it. I'll not drown with a ninny tied 
 round my neck with my own purse, if it is to be helped. 
 
 " No ! I am willing enough to marry, and think part wasted of every 
 hour till I do, but I am on the look-out for what is commonly called 
 'a bad match.' With every 'good match' that I have seen, in my 
 circle of acquaintance, the gradual dwindle into insignificance and 
 disappointment has begun with the return from the wedding journey. 
 Money enough to make a man ' a good match' seems, in this country, 
 somehow, to be the invariable purchase-money for an extinguisher to 
 his mind ; so that l a good match' means a husband you get tired of, 
 directly, yourself, and whose soul-less ostentation and inanity your 
 friends put upon a pension of polite endurance, from the moment he 
 ceases to be a prize in the lottery for daughters. Why is it not so in 
 England ? Do rich people educate their sons improperly in this coun- 
 try 1 Or, is ours a climate in which nothing but poverty favors the 
 post-matrimonial vegetation of a man's intellect 1 
 
 " Of course there must be plenty of men worthy of your humble ser- 
 vant, my dear friend, but I have looked the fashionable society of 
 New-York diligently through, and— must look farther for a husband 
 to suit me. I want d poor man — one who has made up his mind for 
 distinction at any rate, and for fortune if it come in his way ; but in 
 whose ambition I can take an interest, and whose name and position, 
 independent of all the caprices of mere fortune, will be matters I can 
 continue to care for, and take more pride in, the longer I five. Bring 
 me such a one, if you chance upon him. Papa will call it a ( bad 
 match,' of course. I shall be thought, for one year — perhaps two or 
 three — to have ' thrown myself away.' But, if it be a choice whether 
 one's consequence and happiness wax or wane, from the wedding to 
 the funeral, I would rather begin as the moon does. If you ever write 
 
046 THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 my ' obituary notice,' please mention this very curious peculiarity of 
 taste ! 
 
 " Ah me ! there goes the hand with the first waltz ! I must dress 
 for the ball. I fear I shall never send this letter of ' confessions,' 
 if I venture to read it over, so I'll seal it while I dare. Good night. 
 Yours gratefully and truly, 
 
 " Florence." 
 
 II. 
 
 JOTA WARD. 
 
 Nature intends that character shall not be too readily un- 
 derstood. She wishes the choicest of her volumes to be passed 
 over by the coarse and superficial reader, and to be first re- 
 cognised by those who will read with reverent appreciation. 
 The title-pages, therefore, though they contain, 'in some line 
 or corner, the true imprint of what is within, are not legible 
 to all. The common eye passes over the most priceless beauty 
 of expression in human features, blind to all but the embellish- 
 ments in which no meaning is hid. 
 
 There were dimples in the corners of the beautiful mouth 
 of Joya "Ward, which did not fulfil the usual mission of dim- 
 ples — as a torch, turned downwards, becomes the most touch- 
 ing symbol of death, when its common purpose makes it the 
 emblem of life and brightness. If the face, in all other res- 
 pects, had chanced to be a plain one, it is possible that the 
 quality of character, to which these turned-down dimples were 
 the key, might have been oftener recognised — but Joya Ward 
 
THREE NEW YORK EELLES. 247 
 
 was what is usually described as " dashingly beautiful," be- 
 sides. As seen by most persons, it was a countenance of 
 absolute health, exuberant gayety, passionate intensity of phy- 
 sical life,' and a frank, entire and unsuspicious womanliness. 
 Perhaps those who saw her most would have added, that her 
 features were expressive of more than the usual medium of 
 intelligence. 
 
 The bodily temperament, in fact, had taken the moulding of 
 that face almost entirely to itself; and the soul, (summoned, 
 probably, at the last moment, to give its voice in the matter,) 
 had carelessly touched the two corners of the mouth, covertly 
 compressing, into the downward curve which this gave to two 
 exquisite dimples, the whole outer expression of the true supe- 
 riority within. As was said above, few were likely to read, 
 at all, this talismanic betrayal of the hidden but overruling 
 tenant of that fair temple ; and, in her mirthful moods, when 
 the mouth was busy with its brilliant caprices of expression, 
 the soul's timid sentinel was pressed into the service of the 
 senses, and even the most spiritual observer might have looked 
 upon that flesh and blood monopoly of beauty, with no recog- 
 nition of the true character of Joya Ward. 
 
 "We have space only to touch upon a point or two of what 
 it would take a common-sized novel to delineate fully — (and 
 we have a suspicion, by-the-way, that !( the age" is getting 
 too " fast" for anything but outlines) — so tho reader is request- 
 ed to be busy with the " filling up," while only an indication 
 of which way ran the current of life of which the first springs 
 and impulses have been hinted at thus hastily. 
 
 Ladies should be careful how they are seen listening to 
 music. There is no such unmasker as a sweet air played to a 
 
248 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 silent company. The heart is touched — the attention of others 
 is supposed to be absorbed by the player — and the face for- 
 gets itself, and lets the soul — or the want of it — be seen in its 
 unconscious repose. Smith Lyle was one of those for whom 
 Nature writes her best books. A single glimpse of the 
 turned down and dimpled corners of the mouth of Joya 
 "Ward, as she sat listening to a song, staked his whole happi- 
 ness upon the venture of reading all that was bound up under 
 that imprint ; and she was soon Mrs. Smith Lyle — a lady 
 whom you know, perhaps, in society, dear reader, or, if you 
 do not, you may record it as one of those losses which Hea- 
 ven (better late than never) is bound to make up to us. 
 
 The peremptory command, " Know thyself !" implies, as a 
 " foregone conclusion," the most universal kind of human ig- 
 norance. Mrs. Smith Lyle had married, " she scarce knew 
 why." Up to that time, she was " in communication," as the 
 knockers say, with her senses mainly ; and when her soul 
 came forward, and decided, as it was sure to do, any matter 
 of moment, she had no time to recognise " the speaker" before 
 her senses had " resumed the floor." The result was, that, 
 instincts to the contrary notwithstanding, she had very much 
 the opinion of herself that most people had of her ; and she 
 was half inclined, for th(T first year after her marriage, to 
 agree with most people, that a more inharmonious match — 
 one of more opposite-minded and respectively inappreciative 
 people — than herself and Mr. Smith Lyle, could hardly have 
 been selected, even for a psychological experiment of the 
 " crossing of races." 
 
 Intense lover as her husband was, it confused her to be ad- 
 mired only for what had never won admiration before. She 
 
THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 249 
 
 was not very sure that the change was agreeable. The habit 
 of conquest had given a value to the visible weapons of beau- 
 ty, and she could not reconcile herself, at once, to the greater 
 effectiveness of unseen qualities in which she had hitherto 
 taken no pride — of which, indeed, she scarce knew the posses- 
 sion, or existence. Her soul, like a priceless pearl, lay at the 
 ebb of her animal spirits, and it was only when the tide of life 
 was down — when she was saddest and least hopeful or self- 
 believing — that she shone brightest in the sunlight of her 
 husband's affections. How profoundly truthful were her 
 calm thoughts, at those hours — how unassuming and gentle 
 was her soft-eyed sadness — how imaginative and lofty the 
 point from which she saw, and yet how sweet the humility 
 and tenderness with which she judged — how softly clouded 
 was the music of her tone, and how subserviently and yet 
 effectively her excessive beauty became an enhancement of all 
 this — are light and shade, dear reader, which your own fancy 
 (we are doing this portrait, you know, between us) will please 
 trouble itself to put in where they belong. 
 
 What would have become of Mrs. Smith Lyle, had she 
 married an inappreciative husband — one who had loved her 
 for her beauty only, and who lived in ignorance of the soul- 
 pearl of which that beauty was the shell — can be guessed 
 from the more or less of approximation to the same problem 
 which has fallen under the observation of most of us. The 
 grazing of the herd over the gold mine — blind to all but what 
 ministers to the immediate appetite — is the state of many do- 
 mestic Californias, from which, by the way, the first discoverer 
 of the true value does not alwa3 7 s coin happiness ! 
 
 Years have elapsed since we first made this beautiful char- 
 
250 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 acter a study — for, of the deathless travellers whom Time 
 takes along with us, even-paced, this is one whom we shall 
 remember to have been on this planet of Earth while we were 
 here, and whom we shall hope to meet and re-study further 
 on — but, whenever we see the fair Joya, whom we first noted, 
 long ago, at her " coming-out ball," it is with new admiration 
 of the ceaselessly progressive development of that inner char- 
 acter, which could then be read faintly but truly — the charac- 
 ter of which those turned down dimples, with their momentary 
 but inexpressible sadness, were the covert yet unmistakable 
 index. She is beautiful — very beautiful still. But, by life's 
 trying lessons, and by the insisting appreciativeness of her 
 husband's admiration, her inner qualities have gained the as- 
 cendancy even in the expression of her face ; and her manners 
 are touched with a subdued earnestness and a winning and 
 truthful simplicity, that few would have foreseen who knew 
 her only as a belle. She is one of the few who grow lovelier 
 as others fade — the bloom of her next life flowering back upon 
 this, as the fruit-fall of one season in the tropics is overlapped 
 by the blossoms of another. 
 
 III. 
 
 MISS TRAFFOED. 
 
 To sketch truly the lady whose name we have written 
 above, we must first generalize a little upon the times of 
 which her mind is a part : — 
 
 Summer and winter are to be done away with, astronomers 
 say, and eternal Spring is to republicanize the weather, and 
 
THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 251 
 
 bring the extremes of heat and cold to a temperate level. The 
 same tendency is visible, moralists say, in the intellectual 
 barometry ; and it is already more difficult to be great, and 
 less necessary to be nothing, than it used to be. Every one 
 knows that there is a much more general distribution of 
 property than of old ; and a distinguished traveller recently 
 described America, which is the advance-guard in the march 
 of equality, as " a country where there is nobody very happy, 
 and nobody very wretched." New-York, (as the largest 
 metropolis should be,) is still a step beyond even the other 
 cities of the United States — having no indisputable highest 
 class, and equally " good society" wherever there are means 
 to provide the usual external belongings. 
 
 The point of this equalising progress which has a bearing 
 upon our sketch, however, is the gradual advance of woman 
 toward the masculine 'privilege of influencing many. That 
 man should accumulate power, and control as many human 
 human beings as he can, but that woman should live and die for 
 one and his family, would have been been considered " a plat- 
 form" ten years ago. That the general sentiment has progres- 
 sively modified, on this point, however, is visible in many 
 changes and movements. The late formidable convention for 
 Women's Eights, and the petition just presented to Congress, 
 praying for full equality of sexes as to voting and holding 
 office, are the larger demonstrations — claiming more, to cover 
 the less that is really expected. The universal movement for 
 the better pay of female industry — the often-recurring call for 
 the substitution of women for male clerks, and for giving them 
 the preference in all in-door and easy occupations — the estab- 
 lishment of a Female Medical College, and reception^of female 
 
252 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 students in medical schools — Mrs. Farnham's emigration to 
 California with a company of female farmers — women work- 
 ing in men's dress at the mines, and fighting as soldiers in the 
 late struggles for liberty in Europe — Miss Beecher's summary 
 and novel extinguishment of a young divine for foppish trifling 
 with a lady's character and affections — Princess Belgioso's 
 dip into war and journalism — the female agriculturist who 
 farms- it in man's attire, and is a " distinguished citizen," near 
 Brussels — Jenny Lind's single-handed build and occupancy of 
 a throne, to which those of Semiramis and Cleopatra were but 
 baubles — these, and many corroborative indications in private 
 life, which will have occurred to the reader, are lesser signs, 
 we think, of the same impulse — a changed undercurrent of 
 sentiment as to the unexceptional singlitude and retiraey of 
 woman. 
 
 Miss Traflbrd, (whose raft of life, as the lumbermen on 
 the Susquehannah would say, was " embarked upon this 
 fresh") is what may be particularised, in our land of slight 
 people, as an entire beauty. If you have ever seen a ship 
 come up the bay on a fair wind, and make her way, with 
 every sail filled, through the wilderness of bare-masted vessels 
 at anchor, you may have an idea of the sudden impoverish- 
 ment of the figures of most of the other belles, by Miss Traf- 
 ford's entrance into a ball-room. With her full outlines, her 
 symmetrical and easy motion, and her straight back, she 
 would always produce the impression, upon a nautical eye, 
 of a vessel with every sail set, coming up before the wind. 
 A painter, we are quite sure, would sketch her with a hand- 
 kerchief dropped at her feet, from a vague instinct that there 
 
THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 253 
 
 could scarce be a complete likeness of her without something 
 like foam at the prow. 
 
 In Miss Trafford's expression and manners there is the 
 same " spread of canvas." She has not a reef in her large 
 blue eye, nor in the shake of her hand, nor in the frank smile 
 that lets you look at her dazzling teeth as if there were 
 plenty more like them. She walks straight to whomever she 
 wishes to speak to, and gives her absolute and complete atten- 
 tion to those who talk to her. A bird in the wilderness is 
 not more unstartled by the stirring leaves, than is her counte- 
 nance or motion by the looks or movements of those about 
 her. If it were not from the evident fearlessness of complete 
 honesty, this somewhat independent unconsciousness, of other 
 people's effects of presence, might offend : but, by the circle 
 in which she lives, it is as uncriticised as the same quality in 
 the summer wind. 
 
 Miss Trafford has friendships with as many of the superior 
 men of her acquaintance as she has time to exchange thoughts 
 with. A man of any intellectual mark gives her his confi- 
 dence at once. Her sympathy is so unselfish and complete, 
 where she accepts this trust of friendship, that the devotion to 
 her, by all those who know her intimately, has a character 
 almost of romance. Yet, a lover, Miss Trafford, apparently, 
 never had. Love is first inspired by magnetism that has a 
 locked door, but there is nothing in her manner, look, or 
 heart apparently, on which she ever turned a key. It is what 
 women withhold — in the coloring of a thought, or the tone of 
 a voice, the glance of an eye, or the pressure of a hand — 
 which ties the bandage over the first sentiment and turns it 
 into a Cupid ; but, in Miss Trafford's thought, tone, glance 
 
254: THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 and greeting, there is nothing withheld, and Cupid's bandage, 
 of course, (without which he can do nothing,) is a superfluity 
 uncalled for. 
 
 Looking upon love, probably, as she might upon a prevail- 
 ing influenza — and waiting till she catches it — Miss Traf- 
 ford, meantime, however, finds a tenant in her heart. For 
 want of a better name we will call it ambition. She wants 
 a field for the exercise of energies that make her restless. 
 Her conscious control over other minds — her power of 
 influencing many — is uneasy with the comparative inaction 
 which her sex imposes upon her. In her confidential inter- 
 course with men of mind, she has measured her scope and her 
 mental magnetism, and she longs to play the part for which 
 such faculties are the required gifts — to unfold her wings, 
 since she has them, and try the forbidden air of Influence, 
 since it seems to be her element. With a woman's destiny to 
 stir but one or none, she longs to stir a§ many, and with as 
 high a career and purpose, as a man. 
 
 Miss TrafFord sometimes advances theoretical views on this 
 subject, the carrying out of which would Very much astonish 
 her friends and relatives. She has looked with a clear busi- 
 ness eye at the different means by which superior men contrive 
 to live lives worthy of a bigger planet, here on this little one. 
 In Literature, however, she thinks that the amount of petti- 
 coat competition has quite smothered the chance of petticoat 
 success. War, Law, Politics, and the Pulpit, men have a 
 monopoly of. The Press is a pillory which is not fit for a 
 lady — scarcely for a gentleman. Music and painting require 
 accidental endowments. The Stage, which John Quincy 
 Adams always defended, as one of the most important and 
 
 
THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 255 
 
 influential of public professions, is the only remaining field ; 
 and to this, (we conjecture, from hearing her quote his 
 remark, and speculate on what the stage might be brought to, 
 as an elevator of standards of action,) Miss Trafford is 
 secretly turning her ambition. The tendency of the age, 
 (which we began by describing) is doubtless aiding this, by 
 weakening the usual trammels of necessity for unexceptional 
 female obscurity. She has high notions of Jenny-Lind-ifying 
 § the stage, and she is quite too clear-sighted a woman not to 
 see that her beauty and personal air would in some degree 
 help to strengthen her power, as the voice serves the great 
 purposes of the Nightingale of Sweden. 
 
 With no certainty that Miss Trafford confesses, even to 
 herself, the idea of adopting the stage as a sphere for her pre- 
 dominance of talent and energy, her attention and bent of 
 mind pertinaciously look that way ; and we are very sure that 
 she feels willing, since she is an exception to the common 
 endowments of her sex, that hers should be an exception to 
 their common lot. We hope, however, that, in case our con- 
 jecture is true, she will first weigh well what she relinquishes, 
 and, as well, what she is to encounter. 
 
NEW-YOEK SOCIETY, 
 
 New- York has a peculiarity, which distinguishes it, we be- 
 lieve, from every other city in the world. It has no recognised 
 highest class. Of those who "keep carriages," who "live 
 above Bleecker," who " are subscribers to the Opera," who 
 " go to Grace Church," who " have a town house and country 
 house," or who " give balls and dinners," there is no " exclu- 
 sive circle," and no family lohose acquaintance is of any valve 
 beyond the pleasure it gives. There is not a man or woman in 
 New- York, we mean, whom it is " necessary to know," to be 
 " fashionable." Not only this, but there seems to be no ap- 
 proximation to an " exclusive set," for it is not even a matter 
 of curiosity who people's acquaintances are, and nobody could 
 definitely tell to what circle any one positively belongs. We 
 have alluded before to this peculiarity of New- York, and we 
 once defined the vagueness of the classes out of which an aris- 
 
 (256) 
 
NEW-YORK SOCIETY. 257 
 
 tocracy would be formed, if at all, by a phrase which has since 
 become common — " the Upper Ten Thousand." 
 
 But, we go for recognising blessings while we have them, 
 and it may possibly suggest useful guiding principles of society, 
 to our distant readers, if we explain what is the particular ad- 
 vantage of this unprecedented republic of fashion — what 
 there is in it that makes this one city of the world (where there 
 is no occasion to make an acquaintance, or keep one, unless 
 you like,) the most habitable spot within the limits of civili- 
 zation. 
 
 Differently constituted people require different circles of 
 friends. Hardly any two persons (with any definite char- 
 acter, that is to say,) would find the same pleasure in the same 
 society. No " Procrustes' bed" is more unreasonable, than 
 the insisting that all should give preference to the same models, 
 and that all should acknowledge the same superiorities. Yet 
 this is the case wherever there is an indisputable and acknow- 
 ledged " set" of supreme fashionables. It is the case in Bos- 
 ton — the case in Philadelphia — the case in London, Paris, 
 Berlin, Munich and Vienna. In all these places, and in every 
 other city of America and Europe, there are certain houses 
 where you must visit, to be " fashionable," and certain people 
 whom you must have at your parties if you expect them at all 
 " to go down" as gayeties of" the best society." That there 
 are no such indispensable houses to visit at, and no such indis- 
 pensable people to know, in this city of an " Upper Ten Thou- 
 sand," every one who knows anything of its society will at 
 once acknowledge — and acknowledge! too, as a very consider- 
 able " let up" from the slavery of " paying court" to leaders 
 of fashion whether you like them or no. 
 
258 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 But this is only a negative advantage. There is, in this 
 state of society, a positive advantage which is much more lm 
 portant, and which elevates the whole matter into a question 
 of the real dignity and moral value of a life. Will the reader 
 allow us to play " father confessor," and address ourself for a 
 moment to his or her inner consciousness of a life that has 
 purposes to be fulfilled ? 
 
 No half hour of conversation is without its effect in narrow- 
 ing or expanding the character. Uncongenial society demeans 
 the natural independence, dulls the natural graces of the mind, 
 and hurts the frank honesty of the heart ; while, in genial and 
 sympathetic society, all that is worthiest is nurtured, and all 
 that is admirable takes new courage and brightness from ap- 
 pearing to the best advantage. These are truisms. All per- 
 sons know them — but, how different the world would be, if 
 all persons made them, as they should do, the only basis upon 
 which to select and cherish a circle of acquaintance ! Those 
 you see intimately — those with whom you constantly exchange 
 thoughts and politenesses — those whose conduct you judge 
 of, and, by whose judgment of your own conduct, you are 
 .influenced in turn — those to whom you introduce friends, and 
 to whom you intrust wife, sisters, or children — should belong 
 to your visiting circle by some reliable affinity, and be bound 
 to it by those sympathies and similarities of condition without 
 which there can be neither sincerity, safety, nor enjoyment, in 
 social life. The best state of society, of course, is that in 
 which there is the greatest freedom to select acquaintances — 
 that is to say, according to instinctive liking and similarity of 
 taste and circumstances — and where one neither gives offence 
 nor loses position by letting all others alone. 
 
NEW-YOEK SOCIETY. 259 
 
 The advantage which we claim for New- York over other 
 cities, therefore, will be understood. There is no circle, in it, 
 that can either give fashion , or take it aivay. Among its 600,000 
 inhabitants, there are people enough of every kind, however, 
 and a hundred acquaintances may be picked from a hundred 
 different neighborhoods, or circles, or congregations, without 
 the selection's being even known to the unselected remainder 
 of the neighborhood, circle, or congregation. In other cities 
 you must take people " in sets" — in New- York you can take 
 them singly. In other cities Fashion chooses your acquain- 
 tances for you — in New -York you choose them for yourself. 
 In other cities there are those you are not at liberty to dislike, 
 whom you must pay court to, and in fear of whom you do 
 everything — in New- York, you may dislike whom you please, 
 pay court to nobody, and act in fear of no set or circle. In 
 other cities the chances are against your having such a round 
 of acquaintance as you could feel most kindly to, and among 
 whom your mind would improve and your heart expand — in 
 New- York, it is entirely your own fault if your acquaintances 
 are not of the most congenial and desirable character. New- 
 York, therefore, is not only the pleasantest, but the most im-, 
 proving of cities — for those to live in, we mean to say, who are 
 refined and rational, but who, at the same time prefer, (as 
 some very good people do prefer), to see no arbitrarily aristo- 
 cratic society from which they seem to be excluded. 
 
AUTOGRAPHS 
 
 It amuses, generally, we "believe, to know how great 
 
 people do common-place things ; and perhaps the readers of 
 the Home Journal may be interested to know the exact words 
 in which Louis Napoleon answered an invitation to dine, nine- 
 teen years ago ! The note, which was preserved as an 
 autograph of one of the Bonaparte family, has the additional 
 interest that it contains a touch of his skill at paying a com- 
 pliment ! Its main object is expressed in French, in the usual 
 ceremonious form ; but there is a postscript in English, which 
 shows that the Rex-President, though a bachelor, was once 
 capable of sentiment ! His inseparable friend, who lodged 
 with him in London, at that time, was the Count Aure, and 
 they were usually invited together, as in the note to which 
 the following is his response : — 
 
 "Le Prince Louis Napoleon et le Comte Aure sont bien touches de 
 
 l'amabilite de Madame , mais ils ne pourront pas se rendre a 
 
 son invitation, malgre tout le desir qu'ils en auraient. Ils sont passes 
 
 (260) 
 
AUTOGRAPHS. £61 
 
 hier chea M. et Madame — , pour les remercier de leur engage- 
 ment pour le diner de 12 Mars, auquel ils ne manqueront pas de se 
 rendre. 
 
 "Le 2 Mars, 1833. 
 
 " (An hour may be long, but never tedious in your company.") 
 
 We chance to be able to show how a usurper and a poet 
 do the very same thing — an answer, by Thomas Campbell, to 
 an invitation to dine, ivith the same lady, being also among 
 our autographs. He, too, adds a postscript. Thus it runs : — 
 
 " My Dear Madam : — 
 
 " I will do myself the pleasure of dining with you on Tuesday the 
 23d. I would not make the exception which I thus make to my reso- 
 lution, not to dine out till the Life of Sir Tho's [Lawrence] is finished, 
 
 to anybody in the world except Mr. and Mrs. . You will see by 
 
 the other leaf what I am reduced to. With best respects to Mr. , 
 
 " Yours very truly, T. Campbell. 
 
 K P. S. — Don't think I come under the spell of your grand folks. I 
 now care nothing about ' lovely ladies of ambassadors,' but wish to 
 keep my old friends. T. 0." 
 
A LITTLE GOSSIP 
 
 WITH OUK LADY SUBSCEIBEES ONLY, 
 
 To the ladies, in greater or less number, of whom this poor 
 pen is the constant and laborious servant, we have a thought 
 or two to offer. It is our more especial service, for the lady 
 readers of this paper, first, to keep them informed of all news 
 that has a bearing upon their own tastes, comparative condi- 
 tion as to the women of other countries, and improvement of 
 condition here at home ; and, second, to map out the tenden- 
 cies shown by these mile-stones of events, and draw what 
 generalizing inferences we may, as to the progress for their 
 advantage. The slur that has lately been given us by the 
 English Press, as to our being the " freest people on earth," 
 (viz., that we are " quite the freest — with each other's reputa- 
 tions !") and some recent activity of this kind of freedom 
 
 (262) 
 
A LITTLE GOSSIP. 263 
 
 which our readers may have noticed, are the openings for a 
 little gossip, in this way, on the subject of slander. We, last 
 week, addressed a special homily to our gentlemen readers, on 
 the propriety of making it a national pride to exempt ladies 
 from this republican evil. We now wish to chat a moment 
 with the ladies themselves, as to their special liability to slan- 
 der, from certain peculiarities of education and social position, 
 and as to the advisability of combining to arm against it, 
 Pray, do not call us tedious, dear lady, before remembering 
 that you, or those you love, are as liable to this danger as 
 any for whom we hope to suggest defences. The innocence 
 that feels no risk and is taught no caution, is more vulnerable 
 than guilt, and oftener assailed. 
 
 It is perhaps time that the difference between notions of 
 propriety, here and in other countries, should be a little mod- 
 ified. In England, where an unmarried girl cannot walk out 
 alone with a male acquaintance, or, in France, where she is 
 not trusted alone even with her brother', the complete freedom 
 of an American girl, as to her movements with " beaux," or 
 times and places of seeing them, w T ould be looked upon as at 
 least a foolish putting of weapons into the hands of the mali- 
 cious. In actual consequences, this liberty has, hitherto, 
 worked better than was predicted. The wives and mothers 
 of our country are allowed to be more virtuous than those of 
 countries where girlhood is more guarded. But it is from 
 some of the accompaniments of this freedom — suitable and safe 
 enough in America as it was, but not as it is beginning to be 
 — that the necessity for increased caution arises. 
 
 With the floods of immigration, the great increase of foreign 
 
2g4 THE RAG-BAG: 
 
 travellers, and the insensible but rapid importation of Euro- 
 pean ideas and standards, many of the ordinary habits of our 
 ladies are becoming liable to dangerous misrepresentation. It 
 is quite enough to say, that, by the prevailing notions among 
 respectable classes, a young girl may go where she pleases 
 with any young man of her acquaintance, meet him anywhere 
 for a walk, drive with him or write to him — giving little or no 
 explanation to friend or parent. Such habits, and the circum- 
 stances that grow innocently and naturally out of them, give 
 ample material for defamation — much more indeed than is 
 needed by the maker and sustainer of a false accusation, to 
 prove it sufficiently for the lady's ruin. Mothers who keep 
 stricter guard are laughed at, to this day, for foreign affec- 
 tation, and sneered at for thinking their daughters " better 
 than other people's" — but upon what young lady, except one 
 thus watched, could not the " appearances" be proved which, 
 with but little exaggeration and perversion, would be fatal 
 to her good name ? 
 
 American young ladies have one other vulnerable point. 
 While the boys of our country are educated over-practically, 
 the girls are educated over-sentimentally. The universality' 
 of cheap and trashy novels impairs both the relish, and the 
 right appreciation of the companionship which falls in their 
 way ; and no one of them, for some brief period, feels herself 
 to be fitly or properly mated. Hence a stage of girlhood, 
 which is a struggle to build a romance upon common-place 
 intercourse ; and hence, too, an almost universal habit of 
 using exaggerated language, and describing very simple mat- 
 ters with very intensified and incorrect phraseology. A mis- 
 
A LITTLE GOSSIP. 335 
 
 carried billet-doux is mourned over as " utter ruin ;" a fancy 
 admiration, that has brought about a scolding, is discoursed 
 upon as the " dark error fatal to her peace forever ;" a mis- 
 laid rose-bud is deplored as the " one loss on earth that 
 could never be restored." What school-girl's letters are not 
 likely to be full of such dreamy and unconscious mis-applica- 
 tions of the language of novels ? The first true and womanly 
 affection that enters her heart inspires her with an apprecia- 
 tion of sincere words; and, with real love, she writes, for 
 the first time, simply and truly. But this does not erase 
 the wild flights of fancy that she has penned and distributed 
 around with the confiding unmeaningness of a child, and a 
 villain who is disposed to injure her has only to get possession 
 of, and expose them. 
 
 There is little need of dwelling on these obvious dangers to 
 female reputation in America. Every reader who has fol- 
 lowed us thus far, has mentally seen ten risks to every one 
 we have mentioned. Immediate change in national habits 
 and manners never takes place, however, and the confiding 
 and careless intercourse of our young ladies with young gen- 
 tlemen, and their thoughtless expressions of what they do 
 not feel nor understand, will continue yet a while. We call 
 attention to it, not with a very strong hope of expediting 
 a more cautious and European stage of manners, but to 
 suggest a correction in public opinion, meantime. The 
 true state of education and custom should be remembered, 
 when accusations are made against American women. Ladies, 
 in this country, (and not gentlemen,) are the court by which 
 female reputation is tried and judged, and it rests with them- 
 selves to defend and sustain each other. Were women to 
 12 
 
266 TH 2 HAG-BAG. 
 
 combine — in circles, op- societies, churches or clubs — to 
 protect innocence by at hast testing accusation before delivering 
 over the accused to neglect and infamy, there would be much 
 more done at which Truth and Justice would rejoice, not to 
 say Charity and Mercy. 
 
NATUEE INTEODTTCED INTO SOCIETY. 
 
 Three new introductions have taken place in New- 
 York Society, within the past week. Moonlight, a Fountain, 
 and a Summer-Garden, were three open air guests, present at 
 a crowded ball at the corner of Eifth Avenue and Fifteenth 
 Street. The effect was sufficiently novel, as well as beautiful, 
 to excuse being recorded in a public journal, for the informa- 
 tion of those of our readers who are beyond the reach of the 
 circle of chit-chat in which it is the principal topic. 
 
 The house, in which these out-door luxuries are combined 
 with every possible ingenuity of modern sumptuousness and 
 refinement, has not been long completed, and this was the first 
 general entertainment given within its walls. About six hun- 
 dred persons were present. The usual festivities of a ball 
 need not be described, of course — but the guests who strayed 
 away from the magnificent principal apartments, made the 
 
 (267) 
 
268 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 round of a suite of smaller rooms, in which the contrivances of 
 taste and elegance, are probably unsurpassed, even by royal 
 palaces abroad. The central room of this suite is the bed- 
 room of the lady of the house, and, after the F rench fashion, 
 this exceeded in luxury even the principal apartments of 
 reception and ceremony. To the surprise and delight of those 
 who came with dazzled eyes from the glittering ball-rooms, 
 there was no light in this nest of beauty except a soft demi- 
 jour, of the strength of the light of a full Venetian moon. 
 The glance, which turned from the bed inlaid with pearl, and 
 draped with satin and lace, rested on an arched roof of glass, 
 framed in arabesque tracery-work, and through this came a 
 glow, as of a full moon in its meridian, in which the features 
 of those present were just visible, as in a midnight of Summer. 
 The bed stood in a recess, shut in with a mirror, which, turn- 
 ing upon a hinge, opened into a boudoir beyond ; and the 
 exquisite contrivances of refinement and luxury, in the dress- 
 ing-rooms and alcoves around, were a new study of Art, even 
 for those well versed in European palaces. One begins life 
 with dreaming that beauties are thus lodged, in fjairy land, or 
 perhaps in the dwellings of kings, but the ideal is seldom so 
 realized as in the bed-room of the fair authoress who is here 
 at home. 
 
 Passing on, through other apartments, (the last of which 
 was one of the two supper- rooms kept open on different sides 
 of the house throughout the evening,) the guest entered 
 upon a little wilderness of verdure and flowers, in which the 
 air was as fragrant and soft as in a garden of the tropics in 
 June. In the midst played a fountain, fifteen or twenty feet 
 in the air, and the parterre around the basin was green with 
 
NATURE INTRODUCED INTO SOCIETY. £69 
 
 dewy moss of most fresh and luxuriant vegetation, studded 
 with statuary and shut in by a circle of the most magnificent 
 exotics. Birds sat in the trees, and flower-beds of earth ed^ed 
 the paved walks, and, from the lofty glass roof, hung trailing 
 plants, thickening the air with leaves as in a wood. 
 
 This garden-drawing-room was beautiful enough in itself 
 — thronged as it was with ladies in ball dresses — but, as it 
 formed the last of the suite of larger rooms which run the 
 length of the house, the perspective view, seen from its further 
 side, was indeed a contrast to remember. The brilliantly 
 lighted saloons, lined with satin and gold, were an unsepara- 
 ted continuation of the garden — a rural Paradise extending 
 into a ball-room — green leaves and fragrant flowers near by, 
 and a crowd of waltzers and promenaders beyond, whose 
 jewels and gay ornaments were flashing in the brighter light 
 — falling water, whose murmur was softened, here, by the 
 humid atmosphere, and a band of music, heard indistinctly 
 through the bright air in the distance. " All this, besides, was 
 so multiplied by walls of mirror, that to the very end of the 
 erening, the extent and structure of the house was a problem 
 to those who had not studied it by daylight. "While looking 
 at this enchanting foreground and perspective, by-the-way, 
 our attention was called to a distinguished group in the room 
 next beyond — General Paez, James the novelist, Washington 
 Irving, Stevens the traveller, Hon. Frank Granger and his 
 daughter, and his Honor the Mayor, standing near enough 
 to each other to hav£ been daguerreotyped for a picture. 
 
 We really doubt whether there is in the world a more 
 ingenious and tasteful combination of luxury, comfort and 
 elegance, within the same extent, than in this American 
 
270 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Trianon. It is a poem of building and furniture. The lady 
 of the house (our distant readers will be interested to know) 
 has written her travels in the East very delightfully, and her 
 daughter is an amateur artist whose pictures are charming 
 ornaments to the walls, but the contrivance of such a fairy 
 palace, with its wilderness of surprises, amounts to author- 
 ship, we think, and the proprietor and contriver, Mr. Haight, 
 may be named with honor, as we give credit to inventors and 
 authors, architects and artists. 
 
 These very large and splendid entertainments, by the way, 
 have one grace, which is (to our thinking) very essential to 
 society, and which smaller parties in New- York usually lack. 
 At the still larger and very sumptuous ball, at one of our 
 new palaces, the night before, and at this which is described 
 above, we noticed an unusual number of old 'people. The 
 venerable and snowy heads of retired Judges, the thought- 
 furrowed countenances of eminent professional men, and the 
 benign and gentle faces of elderly ladies, were a background 
 to these gay scenes which most touchingly and effectively 
 heightened their interests. Need we say it is a part of the 
 picture always wanted ? 
 
 Another novelty well worth naming : — the guests came 
 much earlier than last winter. The P. M. portion of the parties 
 is now a respectable lapse of time. The Ante-Meridian of 
 the next day has been overdrawn upon, for the last few years, 
 to a degree that called for a reform, and we rejoice to hail it, 
 Sufficient for the day, is the gayety thereof. 
 
THE HUSBAND MARKET 
 
 The annual sigh is about taking place among the middle- 
 aged gentlemen of the North — the sigh given in tender remem- 
 brance of the Southern Beauties who once came with this 
 season to Saratoga. The discontinuance of the yearly migra- 
 tion from those latitudes of lovely languor to the watering-places 
 of the North, is a political pity, we think, more especially — 
 for it sent many a New England heart to the South to be 
 kept from " disunion" during the winter — but it is for lesser 
 reasons that regret for it may also be expressed. The South- 
 ern influence on Northern character and manners was most 
 opportune and beneficial. To our sharp and angular viva- 
 ciousness it gave a shading of graceful indolence ; to our petty 
 and local rivalries and jealousies, it lent the liberalization of 
 ideas from a distance ; to our sordid and hard New-England- 
 ism, it exhibited the standards more delicate and more 
 unmercenary and chivalric, which, from some cause or other, 
 
 (271) 
 
2Y2 THE RAG BAG. 
 
 prevail most on the South side of the Potomac. Considered 
 merely as a departed annual happiness for Northern men, 
 however — politics and lesser utilities aside — it is a loss to be 
 feelingly mourned over. Coming from a part of the country 
 where the men live lives of comparative leisure, the Southern 
 women had habits of conversation balanced with the interests 
 of the other sex as well as their own. They talked well upon 
 men's topics. Their feeling of complete and undisputed good 
 breeding and high station, moreover, gave them a confident 
 and unsuspicious repose of manner, which, with their fascinat- 
 ing languor of movement and the peculiar softness of eye that 
 belongs to their climate, made them differently bewitching 
 from the belles of the North, and added largely to the varieties 
 of heart-breaking. Are we to forget this meridional type of 
 American loveliness ? Should not Martin go South and bring 
 us next a Book of Beauty from that region of what is most 
 peculiar among us — that kind of Orientalism made delicate and 
 intellectual ? 
 
 There is another lessening of belles at Newport and Saratoga, 
 from the discovery that it costs no more to go to Paris or 
 London. The smoothness and speed of the summer passages 
 across the Atlantic, and the fact, that, in the pleasures of a 
 European trip Papas and Mammas are shares also, are 
 strengthening reasons which will more and more thin off the 
 wealthier classes from our fashionable watering-places. 
 
 We see symptoms of another idea gaining ground, which 
 promises to affect the frequentation of these resorts. Though 
 it is well known that an American marries but for his own 
 life-time, and that a European, where laws of primogeniture 
 prevail, brings fortune and consequence that are bridged back 
 
THE HUSBAND MARKET. 273 
 
 and forward, either way, over three or four past and future 
 generations, the prejudice in favor of "marrying a rich young 
 man" has been long in giving way. There was a first glitter 
 about it, which blinded our ladies to the truth that it was a 
 different matter on this side the water ; and the beaux at the 
 Springs being principally the sons of rich men, summer trips 
 thither have been thought good both for health and prospects. 
 Ideas are changing, however. Instructive examples have 
 corroborated the republican croakings on the subject. At 
 whichever end of the horn a young man goes in — the large 
 en/l rich, or the little end poor — his coming out at the other, in 
 his own lifetime, is, in this country, the greater probability. 
 But these makers, and not spenders, of fortunes — these poor 
 young men who are the " best matches" — are not to be found 
 at the watering-places. Hence, as we said, the removal of an 
 inducement — unconfessed but still of some little weight, per- 
 haps — for the frequentation of Newport and Saratoga. 
 
 Fashion and Pleasure will still muster strong at these lux- 
 urious and showy resorts, however, and, just now, the prepar- 
 ations for " The Season" are extensive. 
 12* 
 
FASHION, MOVEMENTS AND THE SEASON. 
 
 The weather that should been on its way to the North Pole, 
 has stayed for another look at Steffanoni and her mates, and 
 the sympathy with the Cuban revolution having been neutral- 
 ized by the admiration of the same troop, (according to a 
 morning paper,) there can no longer be a doubt as to the love 
 of music in this our clime and time. The town is full of fash- 
 ionables who would not be here if the weather had been warm- 
 er. June is the time for a journey ; and, in common years, 
 when the trees are held motionless with the first warm wea- 
 ther and the weight of their new-piled loads of leaves, people 
 who " can get away" go off to Niagara and Lake George, 
 Trenton Ealls and the Canadas — a journey in June being as 
 established a fashionability as a visit to Newport or Saratoga 
 in July and August. And those, by the way, who would not 
 forget how lovely Nature is, at her best and freshest, should 
 
 no more miss a visit to the country, in this honeymoon of the 
 
 (274) 
 
FASHION, MOVEMENTS AND THE SEASON. 275 
 
 year, than they should miss seeing the bride in her orange- 
 flower wreath, or the beloved child when first washed and 
 dressed, and bright with the sleep-refreshed spirits of the 
 morning. 
 
 The new people, in new equipages, who have so abounded 
 in Broadway of late, fore-shadow the increase of display that 
 will be seen at the watering-places in the coming summer ; 
 and, as first attempts at fashion sit better on horses and har- 
 ness than on ladies and laces, the beach at Newport is likely 
 to be more embellished than the drawing-room To see an 
 Indian wear a hat for the first time is a more interesting sight, 
 however, than to see your most admired friend wear his ; and 
 for the same reason, it is curious to see ladies newly diamond 
 ed, and men newly glorified with hock, homage and horses 
 It is with a curiosity without disrespect, however, that a sensi 
 ble man observes such things. Just as muddy was the clay of 
 which were made the original bricks of the social architecture of 
 other countries ; and, if California mud likes to call itself bricks 
 before baking, the old mud of England and France, at the 
 same stage, had the same weakness. "We are less to be 
 laughed at than French or English parvenus, indeed, as our 
 fashion-kiln' on this side the water, bakes vulgarity in half the 
 time. An Englishman, as the proverb goes, " must have had 
 a grandfather, to be a gentleman," while an American needs 
 but a father. 
 
 The new suburb of New- York — the east bank of the Hud- 
 son for fifty miles, brought within the distance of " there and 
 back between meals," — alters somewhat the summer prospects 
 of many of our citizens. Many who used to shut up their 
 houses, send their families to Saratoga or Newport, and make 
 
276 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 up their minds to stay in town alone for a couple of months 
 and attend to business, are now purchasing cottage-sites on 
 the North Eiver, and will go home nightly, as usual, by rail- 
 train, instead of by omnibus. The New Haven Eailroad has 
 made another fifty mile suburb on the other side, accessible 
 also after business hours, and the Paterson Eailroad brings 
 the pure hills of Eockland County equally near, and it is easy 
 to see how these wonderful facilities are making New- York 
 an incomparably convenient place of residence, while they 
 must also, eventually, break up the American peculiarity of 
 promiscuous resort to watering-places. A country seat, or 
 " a box," on the Hudson, or in Eockland County, or on the 
 Sound, or on the South Shore, or Staten Island, will gradu- 
 ally become the more fashionable, as it is the more sensible 
 and luxurious thing, and, (the substantial necessity for a gen- 
 eral summer resort thus taken away,) Saratoga and Newport 
 will lessen in their attraction and frequentation. We recom- 
 mend to the Incognito of the " Lorgnette" to lose no time, 
 with his phototypic pencil, in making sketches of the gregari- 
 ous days of watering-places while they last. 
 
TOWN TOPICS 
 
 The city is an omelette of snow and mud, the slight stiffening 
 of the frost just sufficing to make the wheels of the omnibuses 
 travel like a reluctant cutting spoon. The sidewalks are 
 dirty " beyond description," for either sex ; but, for the sex 
 who walk abroad, each with her stenographer behind her, 
 carrying home a faithful imprint of the state of the streets, 
 written by a reporting petticoat upon the white pages of her 
 heels, the last week's walking, has been, even for this perseve- 
 ring record, too horrible. Few ladies have been seen out of 
 doors, and the stocking history of the weather has been pro- 
 portionately interrupted. It is but fair to add, by the way, 
 that, (simultaneous with the late protest against the printing 
 of kitchen testimony in the columns that sustain public intelli- 
 gence,) there has been a protest against the printing of street 
 dirt upon the fair columns that sustain female beauty. An 
 
 (277) 
 
278 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 " Appeal" has been published, signed by fourteen ladies, 
 which will, some day, be a curious document. It shows the 
 difficulty of changing a fashion, even where cleanliness and 
 health make the change imperatively expedient ; and it is an 
 appeal moreover, which every journal should echo, for the good 
 of its lady readers. The following passages contain its sub- 
 stance : — 
 
 K We, the undersigned, American "Women, beg leave to present the 
 following facts to the consideration of the public. 
 
 " We have been for years oppressed, and many of us have had our 
 health seriously injured by the unhealthy and uncomfortable forms of 
 dress adopted by the women of our country from fashions made by 
 foreign modistes. 
 
 " Some months since, being convinced, that, like our fathers, we had 
 ' the inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' we 
 changed our dress, for one short, light, and easy — which was named 
 by the common voice, from one who wore it, the ' Bloomer Dress.' 
 The advantages of this dress are seen at once by almost all sensible 
 people. But the result of our wearing it has been, in New- York and 
 other cities, and in some country places, a uniform system of insult 
 and outrage. Ladies of irreproachable character, walking in the 
 streets of New- York, acccompanied by their husbands and brothers, 
 have been followed by a rabble, have beeh hissed and hooted, and 
 most insulting words addressed to them. 
 
 " They have borne this in silence, hoping to outlive it — but there is 
 a limit to human forbearance. 
 
 " We wish now to understand whether we have a civil and political 
 right to wear a decent and healthy dress, and whether we are to be 
 protected in the exercise of this right, or whether the New-York 
 public is a mob by majority. 
 
 " The fashionable dress, worn by the women of our city, is 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 279 
 
 unhealthy at all times ; and in bad weather leads to indecent exposure 
 and great discomfort and evil. If we are condemned to this dress by 
 the despotism of the mob, how much better is our condition than that 
 of those equally oppressed in foreign lands, by the tyranny of the few 1 
 Is a mob of Haynau's to be preferred to one 1 
 
 " We ask protection of the law, and of our fellow-citizens, in the 
 exercise of our inalienable rights, and we believe it will be effectually 
 given by our natural protectors the moment this subject is seen in its 
 true light." 
 
 "Without advocating the Bloomer dress, which (pantaloons 
 and all) is needlessly unbecoming, we may venture to express 
 an opinion that a cloth gaiter protecting the ankle, and a bad 
 weather dress short enough to escape the mud, would be neither 
 conspicuous nor inelegant. Ladies, of course, will best 
 decide on their own compromise ; but we seriously think that 
 a choice between no exercise and fresh air, or a walk with 
 muddy and wet skirts beating against the heels at every step, 
 is an unworthy dilemma for woman, in this age of good sense. 
 Pure principles first, and cleanliness and health, before all 
 things else in woman, are what men look and pray for, in 
 all whose charm they wish to strengthen or perpetuate. 
 
 We are happy to chronicle, that the meteor of Buena Vista 
 and Besaca de la Palma — the lock of hair from Old Whitey's 
 tail, sent to us to be given to Ole Bull and incorporated into 
 his violin bow — has been duly delivered to the Norwegian, 
 and is in process of being tightened up to its destiny. We 
 cannot but feel that the catgut with which it is to be brought 
 into contact, should be somewhat select. There is a differ- 
 ence in cats, though the whole race of this species of animal is 
 peculiarly electrical. To understand what might be expected 
 
280 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 from so electric an elbow as Ole Bull's, so inspired a violin- 
 bow as one made of the tail of Old Whitey, and so susceptible 
 an instrument as one strung from the intestines of the choicest 
 of cats, perhaps we might do well to refresh the reader's mem- 
 ory with a passage from Natural History. Of the " cat," the 
 Encyclopaedia says : — 
 
 "This, of all domesticated animals, is the least servile or restrained ; 
 and, though instances of personal attachment are not wanting, the 
 affection of the cat is rather to the house than its owner. There are 
 many singularities in the nature of the cat. She is remarkably ner- 
 vous, and readily startled ; gives out the electric spark when her fur is 
 rubbed contrary to its direction, and is very conspicuous when this is 
 done in the dark. Under the excitement of fear, the same effect is 
 produced on the long hairs of the tail as if a stream of electricity 
 were transmitted through them, and they all stand out from the sur- 
 face to which they are attached, giving the tail an appearance of treble 
 its usual thickness ; at the same time the back is raised, and the body 
 drawn into its smallest compass. Cats are attracted by peculiar 
 odors, and exhibit a violent fondness for catmint and valerian, rubbing 
 their noses and rolling in the latter with signs of great and uncontrol- 
 lable excitement. Cats are very cleanly, are fond of warmth, and seek 
 a soft place for their repose. They express their satisfaction by a pecu- 
 liar, soft, vibrating noise called 'purring? Incapable of long contin- 
 ued speed, their usual gait is slow, cautious and stealthy, with their 
 ears distended to catch the most trifling noise. Guided by these organs, 
 the internal structure of which is highly developed, they trace the 
 sound of footsteps to an almost incredible distance, and .direct them- 
 selves towards their prey with unerring certainty." 
 
 The reader will see, by the above, that the cat is a demo- 
 crat, being " of all domestic animals the least servile"— that 
 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 281 
 
 she is a barnburner and patriot, having " an affection rather 
 for the house than its owner" — capable of being a spiritual 
 medium, being " remarkably nervous" and " giving out the 
 electric spark" — and naturally musical, having a " peculiar, 
 soft, vibrating purr to express her satisfaction, and " ears 
 whose internal structure is highly developed." "We wish to 
 show, it will be perceived, out of what elements the music 
 would come, that might now be produced by Ole Bull, with 
 the Old Whitey bow, and a violin, the pedigree of whose 
 strings had been looked into. Does any one believe that 
 there is no distinction between that horse's tail and any other 
 — between the electric influence of one entrail and another — 
 between the playing on these by the wild son of superstitious 
 Norway, or the playing on them by a mechanical Herr Men- 
 ghis or Sivori ? Does any one believe, (to come to the point,) 
 that a March for Liberty, composed by the Scandinavian, and 
 played by him, on choice striyigs, and with hair from Old 
 Whiteifs tail, for the cause of Hungary, would not " draw," 
 to the tune of five dollars a ticket ? We wish Kossuth may 
 get ten thousand dollars so easy in any other way ! 
 
 The Boston Transcript doubts whether Ole Bull is bodily 
 among us. He is: — we have touched him, and seen him eat, 
 with mortal knife and fork, at our own table. But he is as 
 near a myth as ever — perhaps nearer, for his wild imagina- 
 tion has had more event and expansion. He has indulged his 
 romance by a campaign with the French army in Africa, and 
 he has lived months of solitude on the island which he owns, 
 upon the coast of Norway. A liberal and patriotic project 
 has also taxed his utmost powers for the last two years — 
 
232 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 the creation of a nationality in his native land by the estab- 
 lishment of a Norwegian theatre at Christiana. A drama in 
 their native language they had never known; and, though he 
 met with every opposition from the foreign influence which 
 had monopolized theatricals till then, he was triumphantly suc- 
 cessful. It was a hard task, and he has left home to get 
 breath and revisit the scenes of his former successes. There 
 seems to be no intention in his mind of any professional 
 appearance, and in what we have said of a use of his new 
 violin-bow for the cause of Hungary, we have merely spun 
 a cobw T eb of our own. He is the most impulsive and generous 
 of creatures, however, and if he were sure that the public 
 were very curious to hear from Old Whitey in his new voca- 
 tion, and if that curiosity could be turned to any worthy and 
 sufficient purpose, he would so appropriate it, we are very 
 sure. The Hungarian committee might turn it over. 
 
 The war of the "Operas is producing varied novel phe- 
 nomena. We regret that we cannot describe it as an eye- 
 witness, (a certain " church-yard cough" making us quite too 
 noisy a neighbor for a listening assembly,) but friends describe 
 it as quite equal in interest to the War of the Eoses. The 
 fashionable Astor-Place has come down to fifty cents, and, 
 as this was too cheap for Parodi, her resignation is an- 
 nounced. She must be dear, or nothing. The music has 
 greatly improved by the competition. Another result has 
 come about — interesting to the ladies. Bonnet costume 
 at Niblo's has suddenly attained great elegance. Three 
 ladies out of four look better in bonnets, and the variety of 
 this class of dress is very much greater. The men, old 
 
 
TOWN TOPICS. 283 
 
 and young, seem to like the conveniences and usages of 
 Niblo's, and that house, we fancy, has only to remedy its 
 difficulties as to sound, to become the permanent Operatic 
 locality. 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 
 
 [The following dialogue editorials would not be given entire — some 
 of the topics being altogether of temporary interest — but for the diffi- 
 culty of detaching what might more properly remain. They were 
 written many years ago, when the author and his present partner, 
 Gen. Morris, were engaged on another periodical ; and with this de- 
 precatory apology, the reader is begged to accept them in their origi- 
 nal completeness.] 
 
 CONFAB I. 
 
 Not a small part of our brain-twisting, dear reader, is the 
 exercise of an. office that, at Roman feasts, was delegated to a 
 particular servant called the nomenclator. His business was 
 to inform the guests of the names and ingredients of the dishes 
 set before them. Simple as it seems when well done, there are 
 few things more difficult to do well. It is to describe a book, 
 
 (285) 
 
286 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 or a series of books, in the compass of a phrase, and that 
 phrase attractive to eye and ear, piquant, novel, and provoca- 
 tive of curiosity ! Try your hand at expressing the contents 
 of a charcoal-cart in the compass of a diamond ! 
 
 It would amuse the reader to be present sometimes when 
 No. 4, Ann street, is resolved into a committee of two for 
 the finding of a good name. (Witlings, avaunt !) The firm 
 is called together by a significant motion of the forefinger of 
 the brigadier founder of the concern — called into the cloister, 
 that is to say, a room of the proportions of a lady's shoe, ex- 
 tending to our (No. 4's) immediate rear. The door being 
 closed, and the window-curtain dropped to exclude the unin- 
 spiring view of the clothes-lines of No. 4, upstairs — the one 
 chair having become occupied by his Serenity, and the re- 
 mainder of the committee being seated upon the upright end 
 of a ream of paper, the business in hand is forthwith put. Let 
 no one imagine, because he may have assisted at naming a 
 friend's child, that he has any, the most vague, idea of the 
 embarrassments that ensue ! "We have a passably fertile in- 
 vention. "We have whiled away the dull transit of what is 
 commonly called " a liberal education" by a diligent search 
 after such knowledge as was above being " turned to ac- 
 count." We have been a profligate of verbal intemperance, 
 we mean to say, and are likely to know the bin where lies in 
 cobweb your old word, toothsome and tasteable. But for all 
 this, it is no easier. Like the search after happiness, ten to 
 one the thing sought lies near home — overstepped at starting ! 
 But let us particularize. 
 
 The Brigadier. — My dear boy (a facetious way he has of 
 addressing the rest of tho committee !) — my dear boy, stop 
 
 1 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 287 
 
 looking out of that back window, and give your mind to busi- 
 ness ! Cast your eye over these four incomparable tales ! 
 Irving's " Wife" — 
 
 Committee. — You don't say he's married, general ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Tales, my dear boy, I speak of tales — a new 
 series of tales that want a good name ! Come, think of it, 
 now ! 
 
 Committee. — Describe me the article, brigadier ! What is 
 the purpose, plot, character ? Is it one book or a series ? 
 P Open up," as Bulwer says, and let us know definitely what 
 is wanted ! 
 
 Brigadier. — You know how many men of genius there are 
 who are only capable of brief inspirations — 
 
 Committee. — Inspired to the length of a short'tale. Well ! 
 
 Brigadier. — You know that long tales are now out of 
 fashion. People are tired of them. 
 
 Committee. — Indeed ? Well ! 
 
 Brigadier. — You know that such men as Brougham, Can- 
 'ning, Macauley — statesmen who are scholars and men of ge- 
 nius, and might have been authors — have occasionally given 
 vent to their pent-up imaginations by a tale for the maga- 
 zines. 
 
 Committee. — I do — witness Brougham's magnificent story 
 of the " man in the bell." Well ! _ 
 
 Brigadier. — We know what is good, that goes by with the 
 flood, don't we ? 
 
 Committee. — We are professed tasters. Yes, 
 
 Brigadier. — For experiment, then, I have put together, in 
 one number, four tales that delighted me — in more than one 
 enchanted perusal. You shall select the next. It will go, my 
 
288 THE RAG-BAG; 
 
 
 dear boy ! — people will give their couple of shillings, if it were 
 only for the rescue we make, for them, of things they re- 
 member and have lost sight of. There are g — 1 — o — rious 
 things hit off, here and there, at a heat, by periodical writers 
 — one hit in a thousand failures, it is true, but still enough 
 of them for a brilliant collection — and these we want to gather 
 into our brilliant library, and embalm from perishing. See 
 here ! " Judith, or. the Opera Box, by Eugene Scribe " — 
 (great, my boy, great !) — " The Beggar-Girl of the Pont 
 des Ae.ts," by a German man, Hauff (ah ! what a rich bit to 
 read over and over !) — " The Picnic Party," by Horace 
 Smith (you know all about that ?) — and " The Wife," by 
 Irving — a worthy companion for them ; and now, what shall 
 we call the series ? 
 
 Committee. — Hm — m — m. How do you like "fannoms 
 and fopperies f" 
 
 Brigadier. — Bah ! 
 
 Committee — " Diapasms ?" 
 
 Brigadier. — Poh ! 
 
 Committee. — The " Pomander-chain?'''' 
 
 Brigadier. — My dear boy, let it be English and honest ! 
 You distress me with these affectations ! "What have cata- 
 plasms and pomatum-chains to do with a course of light read- 
 ing ? Don't waste time ! 
 
 Committee. — A diapasm, my charming brigadier, was a 
 bunch of aromatic herbs made into a ball with sweet water, 
 and, in Ben Johnson's time, worn in a lady's pocket. Gal- 
 lants wore these scented balls strung in a necklace under the 
 shirt, and so worn, it was called a pomander-chain. Pardon 
 me, but these would be good names, for want of better ! 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 289 
 
 Brigadier. — Mr. King *would be down upon us, and the 
 definition would never get through his hair ! No, my dear 
 boy ! We must be ostriches, and feel the ground while we 
 fly. Keep out of the clouds till you're " sent for !" I like 
 
 •" The russet yeas, and honest kersey noes," 
 
 and so does my regiment — I mean the public. Imagine a 
 good name, now, that would suit a plain man! 
 
 Committee. — Faith, it takes imagination to come at that, 
 sure enough ! Hark ! I have it ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Come to my arms ! What is it ? Speak quick, 
 or it'll die in delivery ! 
 
 Committee. — Did you ever hear of a river in Asia called 
 Pactolus ? 
 
 Brigadier.— -To be sure. An ass dipped his head into it 
 to be able to stop making money. 
 
 Committee. — That's the fable. And ever since there have 
 been gold sands in the river — " or so they say." 
 
 Brigadier. — And that you think is like fugitive literature ? 
 
 Committee. — I do. I was there ten years ago, and the gold 
 sands were as scarce as good things in the magazines. 
 
 Brigadier. — You'll swear to that ? 
 
 Committee. — With a reservation, I will. I went to the 
 Pactolus one moonlight night, and filled my pockets with sand 
 to look at in the morning. I was travelling with a caravan, 
 and we were off before day, but there was no gold in my 
 pocket, come daylight — sifted out, most likely ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Shouldn't be surprised ! " Sands of Gold," 
 then, you think would be a good name. 
 
 Committee. — Sands of Gold, sifted from the flood of fugitive 
 
 literature. 
 
 13 
 
290 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Brigadier. — Good ! passable good! Let the committee rise. 
 
 You see how it is done, dear reader, and you will the better 
 comprehend, from this specimen, how we came upon another 
 — a name for a series of sacred poetry, of which we are about 
 to issue the first number. We have called this series " The 
 Sacred Kosary" — a musical word that, in old English, meant 
 a plantation of roses, but which was afterward used to define 
 the verses of a church-psalter, strung together with beads for 
 an aid to memory. In either signification, it figures forth what 
 we enrol beneath it — for a more beautiful collection of hal- 
 lowed verse was never collected than this we have to offer. 
 We have always especially loved poetry on sacred themes, 
 and have garnered up specimens of it, and let us assure the 
 reader that in this field of poetry there is a rich harvest un- 
 gathered. Let him look at this first number for a specimen 
 of the mind and taste scattered abroad in these stray leaves of 
 poetry. 
 
CONFAB II. 
 
 Four o'clock and the Pomeridian of an April day. The 
 brigadier's audiences are suspended to make room for a ses- 
 sion of the committee, and the door is closed — printers, poets, 
 engravers, stitchers and folders (these female,) advertisers, 
 carriers, agents, stereotypers, ruthlessly excluded. Truly, as 
 Shakspere says, " every man hath business and desire" (for 
 the brigadier's society,) " such as it is." Long last his " sua- 
 viter in modo" his "for titer in re /" 
 
 Brigadier. — To business, my boy ! What lies in that fourth 
 pucker of your eyelid ? Smile and let it drop away easy ! 
 
 Committee. — Thirteen letters by to-day's mail, containing 
 propositions to publish immortal works by living and mortal 
 American authors, most of them never before heard of — post- 
 age nine and sixpence, of which please make a memorandum 
 in my favor. 
 
 (291) 
 
292 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Brigadier. — Fifty-nine cents each to the cause of unbaptized 
 literature ! Are we not involuntary martyrs, my boy ? Why 
 the mischief don't you last-page the fact that we publish ex- 
 clusively for the trans- Atlantics and the trans-Styxians ! — 
 never for those who can cross the water to " settle !" 
 
 Committee. — It shall be done, but there is one applicant 
 who deserves a hearing. One of the most gifted women now 
 living has employed her leisure in compiling a book to be used 
 as a round game played with forfeits, or as a parlor fortune- 
 teller. The book is to be called " Oracles from the Poets." 
 Questions are proposed, and by the choice of a number the 
 inquirer is referred to an answer, in a passage selected from 
 the poets. The selections are made with great taste, so as not 
 only to convey apposite answers, but to make the reader fami- 
 liar with the most beautiful passages of poetry. "What say to 
 that? 
 
 Brigadier. — Worth lots of money to Piker or Appleton, my 
 boy, but we are in the rapid line, and that sort of work takes 
 time. Besides, (and here the brigadier looked modestly at 
 his nails,) we couldn't bring our minds to make money out of 
 the sex, my boy t Fancy a lovely woman calling on us to 
 fork out, as her publisher ! Odious word, "publisher!" It 
 has been too long a synonym for " pirate" and " Philistine." 
 A few of us immortal bards have Washed and donned the; 
 gaberdine of late, but we must let it air, my boy, we must let! 
 it air, before wearing it abroad — at least into a lady's pres- \ 
 ence ! Think of the maid's asking you to "step into the back' 
 room," if you called on a lady, and sent up your name as her 
 " publisher !" 
 
 Committee. — Ah ! my illustrious friend and song-builder, 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 
 
 293 
 
 dignity is a Minerva that needs no nurse. It jumps out of 
 your head and walks alone. I would not only publish, but 
 peddle from two tin boxes, if my wants would not bear dimin- 
 ishing, and if only this would supply them ! We're earthy 
 ants, not chartered butterflies ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Ha ! ha ! my boy ! my dear boy ! 
 
 " That all the sweetness of the world in one — 
 The youth and virtue that would tame wild tigers- 
 Should thus be cloistered up !" 
 
 Who else wants to gild a gold leaf in the Mirror Library ? 
 
 Committee. — Seven and two are nine — seven poetesses and 
 two he bardlings — pleading for print ! We are 
 
 " Loath to refuse, but loather for to grant ;" 
 
 — will you write the declinatures, dear brigadier ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Make a regret-circular, my boy ! Say that we 
 are a partnership of posterity. They must die, to qualify. 
 The " Home Library," and the "Parlor Library," and the 
 " Drawing-Eoom Library," and the " Knickerbocker Libra- 
 ry," and many more — (for whose names, see puffs and adver- 
 tisements) — these publish for the equivocal immortals now 
 living. We publish only for the immortal dead, or for the 
 buried alive, disinterred with our own pick and shovel. 
 Write that out, and I'll have it lithographed to save time. 
 What next ? 
 
 Committee. — We want a new head. 
 
 Brigadier. — Speak for yourself, my boy ! 
 
 Committee. — A new caption, then (if you will be critical) in 
 the Mirror. Where can I praise things, now? There's 
 Headley's new book on Italy, worth the best laurel-sprig of 
 
294 
 
 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 my picking. There's " Amelia," of the Louisville Journal, 
 who has written some poetry about hearing a sermon, that 
 traverses your back-bone like electricity, and where to praise 
 that ! George Plagg has painted a delicious, sketch of my 
 Grlenmary-born Imogen, and I will praise him ! I want a 
 place to praise — 
 
 Brigadier. — Hire a pew ! 
 
 Committee. — Will you give me a column ? 
 
 Brigadier. — To your memory, I will. 
 
 Committee. — "Well, my memory wants a column, to record 
 the good things I should not forget to praise. 
 
 Brigadier. — Take it — take it — but for Heaven's sake be 
 pert and pithy, crisp and critical ! Nothing so dull as praise 
 to everybody but the praises. Anything more ? 
 
 Committee. — Yes — 
 
 " The loving mother that nine months did bear 
 In the dear closet of her painful side 
 Her tender babe, it seeing safe appear 
 Doth not so much rejoice," 
 
 as I to inform you of the approaching delivery, from the 
 press, of " Pencillings by the Way." My travels have 
 seemed interminable. 
 
 Brigadier. — Well, as I assisted at their birth once before, 
 I can certify now to their being " born again." Is that what 
 you want ? 
 
 Committee. — No — for, half the book was never a book be- 
 fore, not having been published except in the old Mirror. I 
 want you to make it trip 
 
 " as merry as a grig, 
 And brisk as bottled ale," 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 295 
 
 that I may hurry into " calf " all I have written up to last 
 year, and start fresh from my meridian with " Dashes at 
 Life," and gossips in the cloister. For, as says old Wotton 
 in the " Reliquiae," " Though I am a cloistered man in the 
 condition of my present life, yet, having spent so much of 
 mine age among noise abroad, there still doth hang upon me, 
 I know not how, a certain concupiscence of novelty." 
 
 Brigadier. — Verhum sap. sat. Shall the committee rise — 
 by getting down off the table ? 
 
 Committee. — Yes ! — one minute ! Have you read the 
 proof-sheets of that glorious — glorious — say " glorious !" — 
 
 Brigadier. — Glorious, 
 
 Committee.— Hood's " Midsummer Fairies" — the most de- 
 licious " Rococo" conceivable ? Yes ? Be off ! 
 
CONFAB III. 
 
 Committee — (solus.) — Oh, most beset of brigadiers t Most 
 civil of military men ! (for half a firm, the most yielding 
 partner of my acquaintance !) when, oh responsible general, 
 will you get through with your particular callers and come to 
 confab? True, I have dined, and can wait ! True, there 
 are joint letters to answer ! True, I can listen, and look out 
 into the back yard I Hark ! Syphax, my black boy, loquitur. 
 
 Syphax — {to the general) — Shall I cut out them favorable 
 notices from the exchanges, sir ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Those favorable notices, Syphax ! 
 
 Heavens ! what an unfeeling man ! For the love of pity, 
 corrupt not the innocent grammar of the lad, my dear briga- 
 dier ! Out of seven black boys sent me for trial by the keeper 
 of an intelligence-office, six, to my disgust, spoke with the 
 painful accuracy of Doctor Pangloss. The last, my inestima- 
 ble Syphax, whom that finished brigadier would fain bring to 
 
 (296) 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 
 
 297 
 
 his own level of heartless good grammar, was ignorant (vir- 
 tuous youth !) even of the sexes of pronouns ! He came to 
 me innocent ; and, I need not say to any writer — to any slave 
 of the rule-tied pen — to any man cabined, cribbed, confined, 
 as are public scribblers to case and number, gender and con- 
 jugation, participle present, and participle past — I need not 
 say, to such a victim, what an oasis in the desert of perfec- 
 tion was the green spot of a black boy's cacology ! Oh, to 
 the attenuated ear of the grammar-ridden ! — to the tense mood 
 of unerring mood and tense — what a blessed relief from mo- 
 notony is a too-yielding verb, seduced, from its singular ante- 
 cedent, by a contiguity of plural ! Out on perfectionists ! 
 Out on you, you flaw-less brigadier ! Correct your own peo- 
 ple, however ! Inveigle not my Syphax into rhetoric ! Eavish 
 not from my use the one variation, long-sought and chance- 
 found, from the maddening monotone of good grammar ! 
 
 And this brings to my mind, (if I get time to jot it down 
 before the brigadier comes to cloister,) a long-settled convic- 
 tion of my own, that the corrections in American manners 
 brought about by the criticisms of Trollope and others, have 
 been among the worst influences ever exercised upon the 
 country. Gracious heaven ! are we to have our national fea- 
 tures rasped off by every manner-tinker who chooses to take 
 up a file! See how it affects the English to laugh at their 
 cockney ignorance and their servility to rank. Do they brag 
 less, and drink less beer ? Do they modify their Bow-bell 
 dialect one hair, or whip off their hats with less magical 
 celerity when spoken to by a lord ? Not a bit ! They will 
 be English till they are smothered with Eussians — English 
 
 ghosts (those who die before England is conquered by Eussia) 
 13* 
 
298 ™E RAG-BAG. 
 
 with English manners, till doomsday. They are not so soft 
 as to be moulded into American pottery, or German pottery, 
 or French pottery, because an American, or a German, or a 
 Frenchman, does not find them like his own country's more 
 common utensils ! "Where do national features exist ? Not 
 among well-bred people ! Not where peas are eaten with a 
 fork, and soup-plates left untilted by the hungry ! All well- 
 bred people are monotonously alike — whatever their nation, 
 and whatever the government they have lived under. Differ- 
 ences of manners are found below this level, and the mistake — 
 the lamentable mistake — lies in submitting to correct this low 
 level by the standards of coxcombs ! "What a picture would 
 be without shade — what music would be without discords — 
 what life would be without something to smile at — what any- 
 thing would be without contrast — that are we becoming by our 
 sensitiveness to criticism. Long live our (BxxWjudice) " abom- 
 inations." Long live some who spit and whittle, some who 
 eat eggs out of wine-glasses and sit on four chairs, some who 
 wear long naps to their hats, some who eat peas with a knife, 
 some who pour out their tea into saucers, and some who are 
 civil to unprotected ladies in stage-coaches ! Preserve some- 
 thing that is not English, oh, my countrymen ! 
 
 [Enter the brigadier.] 
 
 Brigadier. — Forgive me, my dear boy — what is that I see 
 written on your paper about Eussia V 
 
 " The Kussie men are round of bodies, fully-faced, 
 The greatest part -with bellies that overhang the waist, 
 Flat-headed for the most, with faces nothing faire, 
 But brown by reason of the stoves and closeness of the aire." 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 999 
 
 So says old Tuberville, the traveller — and now to business. 
 Jot! 
 
 Committee. — What ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Jot — that we are glad to oner to the patrons 
 of the " Mirror Library" a book they will thank us for at 
 every line — " The Plea op the Midsummer Fairies," and 
 other admirable poems, pregnant with originality and rich- 
 ness, by Thomas Hood. His poetry is the very attar, the 
 aroma, the subtlest extract of sweet imagination. " Eugene 
 Aram" is one of those included in this volume. 
 
 Committee. — What else are you glad of? 
 
 Brigadier. — Glad to be sorry that Parke Godwin's fine ana- 
 lytical mind and bold foundry of cast-iron English are not 
 freighted with a more popular subject than Fourierism — wor- 
 thy though the theme be of the regard of angels whose appro- 
 bation don't pay. Politics should be at a lift to deserve the 
 best energies of such a writer — but they are not, and so he 
 turns to philosophy. 
 
 Committee. — But he should play Quintus Curtius, and 
 write up politics to his level, man ! The need is more imme- 
 diate than the need of Pourierism. 
 
 Brigadier. — My dear boy, give away nothing but what is 
 saleable. Gifts, that would not otherwise have been money 
 in your purse, are not appreciated — particularly advice. We 
 love Godwin — let us love his waste of ammunition, if it please 
 him to waste it. 
 
 Committee. — 
 
 " Then let him weep, of no man mercified," 
 
 if his brains be not coinable to gold. / would make a mer- 
 chant of genius ! The world has need of brains like Godwin's, 
 
30Q THE RAG-BAG; 
 
 and need makes the supply into commodity, and commodity 
 is priceable. That's the logic by which even my poor modi- 
 cum is made to thrive. Apropos — what do you think of 
 these lines on " bells," by Duganne ? A poet, I should say : — 
 
 " Ye melancholy bells, 
 Ye know not why ye're ringing — 
 See not the tear-drops springing 
 From sorrows that ye bring to mind, 
 Ye melancholy bells. ' 
 
 " And thus ye will ring on — 
 To-day, in tones of sadness ; 
 To-morrow, peals of gladness ; 
 Ye'll sound them both, yet never feel 
 A thrill of either one. 
 
 " Ye ever-changing bells I 
 Oh many ye resemble, 
 Who ever throb and tremble, 
 Yet never know what moves them so — 
 
 Ye ever-changing bells." 
 
 Brigadier. — Kernel-ish and quaint. But, my dear boy, 
 
 " twilight, soft arbiter 
 ? Twixt day and night," 
 
 is beginning to blur the distinctness of the checks on that 
 apron drying upon the line in the back yard. Shall we go to 
 tea? 
 
 " By the pricking of our thumbs," the brigadier is mounting 
 the stairs. Since the possession of our first operative luxury, 
 we have taken a disgust to the cloister — conceiting that the 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. gQ± 
 
 smell of soap, from the lavendering in the hack yard, gave 
 a stain to such flowers of imagination as were born there. 
 The brigadier says we grow superfine. Soit ! It is time — 
 after " taking it as it comes," for so many years. Besides, 
 we must have something to set off against his epaulettes ! 
 Glory in your staff, dear brigadier, but leave us our cabinet ! 
 
 Brigadier — {entering out of breath?) — Paff! paff ! How the 
 breath of life flutters with this vicinity to heaven ! Paff ! paff ! 
 — prophetic nature ! "" How are you, my dear upster ? 
 
 Committee. — You see the ink wet in my pen — I was just 
 about to dash into a critique. That straw-colored volume of 
 poems, by Mrs. Lewis, shows feathers from Pegasus ; though, 
 as usual with lady-poems, without any parings from the hoof 
 — any trace of that part of the old steed that touches earth. It 
 takes wrongs and sufferings — like those of Mrs. Norton, 
 L. E. L., and Mrs. Hemans — to compound a poetess of 
 any reality and strength. Soil, that, if torn up with a 
 ploughshare, may yield the heavy grain of anguish, will yield 
 nothing but daisies and white clover, lying undisturbed in the 
 sunshine. Yet this same white clover is very sweet grazing, 
 and Mrs. Lewis's is a very sweet book. May she never 
 write a better one — by having suffered enough to " qualify /" 
 
 Brigadier. — Amen ! I say, my boy, what a clever thing 
 Inman is making of his magazine ! The May number is 
 beautiful. What a good pick he has among the magazine- 
 writers 1 
 
 Committee. — Excellent — but he uses himself up with making 
 his correspondents work, and sets too little value on his own 
 writings. He wants a sub. for drudgery. He could with his 
 strong fabric of good sense, (which is genius,) and his excel- 
 
302 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 lent critical powers, make all the rest of the " Columbian" 
 subservient to his own articles. 
 
 Brigadier. — Tell him so. 
 
 Committee. — Will he stand it — as your firm ally ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Bless your soul, he has told you many a plainer 
 thing in print. 
 
 Committee. — Has he ? Here goes, then : — 
 
 " For Jove's right hand, -with thunder cast from sky 
 Takes open vengeance oft for secret ill." 
 
 But now we think of it, you are bound to be particularly 
 good-natured, my dear brigadier. With what enthusiasm 
 they received your song the other night at the Tabernacle — 
 "The Pastor's Daughter!" That, and "Boatman haste," 
 and " Cheerly o'er the mountains," are three songs, that, 
 skilfully built, as they are, upon three of our most exquisite 
 national melodies, and intrinsically beautiful in words and 
 music, will be classics. Atwill has published them charming- 
 ly, too. What lots of money you ought to make out of these 
 universalities ! 
 
 Brigadier. — My dear boy, stop praising me at a judicious 
 place — for praise, like " heat, hath three degrees : first, it 
 indurateth or maketh strong ; next it maketh fragile ; and 
 lastly, it doth encinerate or calcinate, or crumble to pieces." 
 
 Committee. — Subtle tactician ! How you have corrupted 
 my rural simplicity ! Mff-— mff— mff ! I think I sniff mint ! 
 The wind sets this way from Windust's. How it exhausts 
 the juices to talk pleasantly with a friend ; and, by-the-way, 
 soft crabs are in the market. What say to a dish of water- 
 cresses, and such other things as may suggest themselves — we 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 303 
 
 two — over the way ! We are in too good humor to dine in 
 public to-day. We should seem to lack modesty, with this 
 look of exultation on our faces. 
 
 Brigadier. — To dinner, with all my heart — for the Mirror 
 has an appetite — the philosopher's tranquil appetite — idem 
 contemptui et admirationi habitus. 
 
 Committee — I go to shave off this working face, my " a dear 
 general ! Please amuse yourself with my warm pen. Our 
 correspondents, " Y." and " E. K." — two "treasures trove," 
 if such periodical ever had — should be gracefully and grate- 
 fully thanked. Do it while I am gone, with your usual 
 suaviter. 
 
 \_Brigadier writes.'} 
 
CONFAB IV. 
 
 (" The Committee" trimming pencil in the Eastern-most bathing-house 
 on Rockaway beach. Enter the Brigadier with nostrils inflated.) 
 
 Brigadier. — Fmff! Fmff! God bless the Atlantic ocean ! 
 Fmff! " Salt sea" indeed ! I never smelt a breeze fresher. 
 Fmff ! fmff ! fmff ! You got the start of me, my dear boy ! 
 {pulls his last high heel out of the deep sand and sits down on 
 the threshold.) What say to a strip and dip before we come 
 to business ? 
 
 Committee. — Fie ! — general, fie ! Look through your fingers 
 at the other end of the beach ! It is the hour of oceanic bea- 
 titude — the ladies bathing ! The murmuring waters will be 
 purer for the interview. Bathe we in the first wave after ! 
 
 Brigadier. — How can you 
 
 " Play in wench-like words with that 
 Which is so serious i" 
 
 Did you bring a towel, mi-boy ? 
 
 304 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 305 
 
 Committee. — Tut ! — would you offend the south wind, that 
 proffers the same office so wooingly! Walk on the beach, 
 man, and let the sun peruse you, while you dry ! 
 
 Brigadier. — So should I be more red, with a vengeance ! 
 But I don't like this dry-salting, mi-boy ! It's too sticky ! 
 Ye gods ! look at the foam upon that wave! What is that 
 like, my poet ? 
 
 Committee. — Like the unrolling of a bale of lace on a broad 
 counter ! The " tenth wave" is the head clerk, and the clams 
 and soft crabs are the ladies shopping ! How I love the affi- 
 nities of Art and Nature ! 
 
 Brigadier.— Poh ! Where's Nature's twine and brown 
 paper ? Don't be transcendental ! 
 
 Committee. — How ignorant you are, not to know eel-grass 
 and devil's apron — Nature's twine and brown paper ! My 
 dear general, were you ever introduced to the Atlantic ? Is 
 this your first visit ? Stand up in the doorway ! 
 
 (Brigadier rises and the surf bows to the ground.) 
 
 General Morris ! the Atlantic ocean. Atlantic ocean ! 
 General Morris. I am happy to bring two such distinguished 
 " swells" together. Though {apropos, Mr. " Heaving Main !") 
 the general is a gay man ! Look out for your " pale Cyn- 
 thia !" The moon is not famed for her constancy ! 
 
 Brigadier. — What are you mumbling there, mi-boy ! I 
 wish, under the tender influence of these suggesting waters, 
 to express a wish that you would write some poetry, or give 
 us a new tale, or dash us off a play, or — 
 
 Committee. — Or, in some other way make rubbish for pos- 
 terity ! No, sir ! There are no pack-horses in Posthumous- 
 land, and, as much as will ride in a ghost's knapsack, with his 
 
306 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 bread and cheese, is as much, in quantity, as any man should 
 write who has pity for his pedestrian soul on its way to 
 dooms-day ! Why, general, the tales which I am about to 
 publish (including "Inklings," " Loiterings" etc., etc.), will 
 make, of themselves, a most adult-looking octavo. My poems 
 and plays have tonnage enough to carry, at least, all the bulk 
 necessary to a fame ; my miscellanies, yet to be collected, 
 will make a most sizeable volume of slip-slop ; pencillings is 
 no pamphlet; and Letters prom under a Bridge, and other 
 
 epistolary production do you see how beautifully the sand 
 
 immortalizes the industrious waves that write successfully 
 their sparkling lines on the beach ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Don't malign your " eternal fame, mi-boy !" 
 Committee. — More eternal, I believe, than the love of the 
 impertinent Lothario in the sonnet : — 
 
 ("But say, my all ! my mistress ! and my Mend ! 
 "What day next week th' eternity shall end ?") 
 
 but how much more eternal it would be, if they would make 
 the genesis of a man's works like that of the patriarchs-— date- 
 able from the first satisfactory offshoot of his manhood ! Do 
 you remember the expressive genealogy of Shem ? 
 
 12. And Arphaxad lived jive and thirty years and begat Salah : 
 
 13. And Arphaxad lived after he begat Salah four hundred and 
 three years and begat sons and daughters. 
 
 14. And Eber lived four and thirty years and begat Peleg : 
 
 15. And Eber lived after he begat Peleg four hundred and thirty 
 years, and begat sons and daughters. 
 
 And so on up to Abraham, whose father was seventy years 
 old when he was born. But don't you suppose these boys 
 did anything before they were thirty-odd? Their history 
 begins with their first creditable production ! Eber was 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 3Q7 
 
 nothing till he begat Peleg, though, very likely, the critics of 
 that time " preferred very much his earlier productions." 
 
 Brigadier. — And you think you could begin, now, with 
 your first Peleg and Salah ? 
 
 Committee. — You have said it. But, as I hinted before, 
 
 my posthumous knapsack is already full of rubbish, and 
 
 a thought strikes me ! 
 
 Brigadier. — " Call it out !" 
 
 Committee. — I'll change my style and start a new reputa- 
 tion, incog ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Famous ! 
 
 Committee. — And sell some man the glory of it for an an- 
 nuity ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Good ! 
 
 Committee. — ( Thoughtfully) — The old countess of Desmond 
 shed her teeth three times. 
 
 Brigadier. — A precedent in nature. 
 
 Committee. — [Firmly) — Soit ! Done ! So be it ! Hang 
 me if I don't ! You'll hear of a new author before long — one 
 that beats me hollow ! Look me up a purchaser, my dear 
 brigadier ! Literary fame furnished at — say, three thousand 
 dollars per annum ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Mi-boy, the ladies have left the beach — I won- 
 der if the sea would condescend to us, now ! 
 
 Committee. — Peltry after roses and ivory ! — I don't know ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Talking of Esau — he should have lived in 
 cravat-time. Well-drest, your hirsute customers looks not 
 amiss ! (No pun, you villain !) Stand back, my unclad-boy ! 
 Here comes a wagon-load of women ! 
 
 Committee. — Chambermaids and nurses ; who, by the way 
 
308 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 they flock to the beach in the male hours, must either have 
 eyes with a nictitating membrane, or a modesty that is confined 
 to what they hear. I wish to heaven that all females were 
 patricians — undesecrated by low taste and servitude ! It's 
 like classifying owls with angels because they are both feath- 
 ered, to call these rude creatures women ! What's that scar 
 on your breast, brigadier ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Slide down your " nictitating membrane," mi- 
 boy, and don't be too observing ! Here goes ! Hup ! (The 
 brigadier rushes into the surf, takes a stitch through three frills 
 of the island's shirt, and rises like a curly-headed sun from the 
 ocean.) 
 
 ■ Committee. — (solus). — There he swims ! God bless him for 
 a buoyant brigadier ! How the waves tumble over his plump 
 shoulders, delighted to feel the place where ride his epaulets 
 and his popularity ! Look out for sharks, my dear general ! 
 They snuff a poet afar off 1 Natural victims we are to them 
 — on land or water ! Hear him laugh as he shakes the brine 
 out of his whiskers ! Was ever such a laugh ! His heart 
 gives that " ha ! ha !" a fillip as it sets out ! I must swim off 
 to him ! Clear the beach, soft crab and sand-bird ! Morris 
 and Willis must swim together ! 
 
 Brigadier. (Sitting down to dry.) — This salting freshens a 
 man, and this wetting makes him dry. Oh for a drink and 
 the asp of Cleopatra — a cobbler and a viper ! Shake yourself, 
 mi-boy ! 
 
 Committee.— Suppose we roll in the sand and take a 
 wrestle, like the athletse of old — eh ? How do you propose 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 309 
 
 to get the sand and gravel out from your doigts du pied, gene- 
 ral ? 
 
 Brigadier. — " Gravelled," we are, mi-boy, but not " for 
 
 lack of matter !" Let's dress first, and then go down and 
 rinse our feet with the aid of the moon's lover — lacking a ser- 
 vant to bring a pail ! Are you dry ? 
 
 Committee. — Inner and outer man — very! "What's this — 
 dropped out of your pocket ! 
 
 Brigadier. — A song* that I wrote for Brown to set to 
 music. Shall I read it to you ? 
 
 (Brigadier reads with his hand on his breast.) 
 
 'tis now the promised hour. 
 
 " The fountains serenade the flowers, 
 
 Upon their silver lute — 
 And, nestled in their leafy bowers 
 
 The forest-birds are mute : 
 The bright and glittering hosts above. 
 
 Unbar their golden gates, 
 While nature holds her court of love, 
 
 And for her client waits. 
 Then, lady, wake — in beauty rise ! 
 
 'Tis now the promised hour, 
 "When torches kindle in the skies 
 
 To light thee to thy bower. 
 
 " The day we dedicate to care — 
 To love the witching night ; 
 For all that's beautiful and fan- 
 In hours like these unite. 
 
 * This song, set to music, has been purchased and copy-righted by 
 Mr. Atwill. 
 
310 THE RAG-BAG; 
 
 E'en thus the sweets to flowerets given — 
 
 The moonlight on the tree — 
 And all the bliss of earth and heaven — 
 
 Are mingled, love, in thee. 
 Then, lady, wake — in beauty rise ! 
 
 'Tis now the promised hour, 
 When torches kindle in the skies 
 
 To light thee to thy bower." 
 
 Committee. — True and smooth as a locomotive on a " T " 
 rail ! Is it sold and set ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Beautifully set to music by Brown, and sold 
 to Atwill, who will publish it immediately. 
 
 Committee. — It's a delicious song, my happy troubadour, 
 and destined to tumble over bright lips enough to make a 
 sunset. That we should so envy the things we make ! My 
 kingdom for a comb ! I shall never get the salt out of my 
 hair — I'm 
 
 " briny as the beaten mariner, 
 Oft soused in swelling Tethys' saltish tears." 
 
 If you want a curl to keep, now's your time ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Willis ? 
 
 Committee. — My lord ? 
 
 Brigadier. — I hear you were voted in the " Light Guard" 
 last week. 
 
 Committee. — Yes, sir, an honorary private! I feel the 
 compliment, for they are a set of tip- top capables, joyous and 
 gentlemanly — but, my dear martinet, what the devil do they 
 want of a man's dura mater ? 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. SH 
 
 Brigadier. — A man's what ? 
 
 Committee. — The weary membrane of an author's brain. 
 
 Brigadier. — They want it, you say ? 
 
 Committee. — With the official announcement came an order 
 to equip myself according to directions, and " deposite my 
 fatigue-jacket" in the armory of the corps ! What fatigue- 
 jacket have I, but the jacket of my brain ? 
 
 Brigadier. — True ! Pick up your boots and come along ? 
 
 (Exit the brigadier barefoot, and the cabinet adjourns.) 
 
 Half an hour later — room No. 300, Rockaway Pavilion. Two sherry 
 cobblers on the table, with two straws, erect in the ice. 
 
 Brigadier. — How like this great structure on the sand must 
 be, to a palace amid the ruins of Persepolis ! 
 
 Committee. — The palace of Chilminar with forty columns 
 and stairs for ten horses to go up abreast ! — very like indeed 
 — especially the sand ! Somewhat like, in another respect, by 
 the way — that the palaces of Persepolis were the tombs of her 
 kings, and Eockaway is the place of summer repose for the 
 indignant aristocracy of Manhattan. 
 
 Brigadier. — True, as to the aristocracy, but why " indig- 
 nant ?" 
 
 Committee. — That there can be fashion without them at 
 Saratoga (which there could not be once), and that " aristo- 
 cratic" and " fashionable" are two separate estates, not at all 
 necessary to be combined in one individual. Eockaway is 
 full, now, of the purest porcelain — porcelain fathers, porcelain 
 mothers, porcelain daughters ! 
 
312 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 Brigadier. — Then why is not the society perfect at Bock- 
 away ? 
 
 Committee. — Because the beaux go after the crockery at 
 Saratoga. The rush, the rowdydow, the flirtations and game 
 suppers, are all at Saratoga ! Aristocracy likes to have the 
 power of complaining of these things as nuisances inseparable 
 from its own attraction. Aristocracy builds high walls, but 
 it likes to have them pertinaciously overleaped. The^ being 
 let alone within their high walls, as they are now at their ex- 
 clusive watering-places, was not set down in the plans of aris- 
 tocratic campaigns ! 
 
 Brigadier. — But they are charming people here, mi-boy ? 
 
 Committee. — The best-bred and most agreeable people in 
 the world, but the others give a beau more for his money. 
 In all countries, but ours, people make acquaintances for life. 
 But the hinderances and obstacles which are not minded at 
 the beginning of a lifetime acquaintance, are intolerable in an 
 acquaintance for a week (the length of most summer acquaint- 
 ances with us,) and the floating beaux from the south, the 
 west, the Oanadas, and the "West Indies, go where they can 
 begin at the second chapter — omitting the tedious preface and 
 genealogical introduction. 
 
 Brigadier. — Bockaway is stupid, then. 
 
 Committee. — Quiet, not stupid. The lack of beaux and 
 giddy times is only felt by the marriageable girls, and there 
 are a great many people in the world besides marriageable 
 girls. And upon this same " many people," will depend the 
 prosperity of the Pavilion. When it is known that it is a 
 delightful place for everything but flirting, it will be a centre 
 for sober people to radiate to, and a paradise for penserosos 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 3I3 
 
 like you and me, general — eh ? I suppose Cranston would as 
 lief (liefer, indeed) that his rooms should be filled with tame 
 people as wild. 
 
 Brigadier. — How's your cobbler? 
 
 Committee. — Fit to immortalize the straw that passes it ! 
 
 Brigadier. — What birds are those, my "Willis ? 
 
 Committee. — Shore birds that build in the sedge and feed 
 on molluscous animals — death on the soft crabs ! And, gene- 
 ral, do you know that the male of this bird (called the phala- 
 rope,) is a most virtuous example to our sex ? What do you 
 think he does ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Feeds the little-uns ? 
 
 Committee. — Hatches them, half and half, with the she-bird, 
 and helps bring them up ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Is the gender shown in the plumage ? 
 
 Committee. — No. 
 
 Brigadier. — So I thought. Your handsome peacock, now, 
 leaves it all to the hen. The domestic virtues are their own 
 reward — remarkably so ! Is that the dinner-bell ? 
 
 Committee. — Yes, it is that music ! 
 
 " Give me excess of it — that, surfeiting, 
 The appetite may sicken, and so die." 
 
 I'll meet you below, my dear general ! Adieu ! 
 
 (Cabinet adjourns for the day.) 
 
 14 
 
CONFAB V 
 
 (Rockaway beach, Sunday evening. The brigadier and committee 
 seated on their boot-legs, after walking two miles, barefoot, on the 
 sand.) 
 
 Brigadier. — Boots are durance vile, mi-boy I How much 
 we lose in not keeping our feet open to female assiduities i 
 Fancy one of those apostolic washings — a sweet woman kneel- 
 ing before* you, and, with her hair breathing perfumes over 
 }'our ankles, performing it as an office of tenderness and hos- 
 pitality ! Can patent leather be weighed against desuetude 
 so melancholy ! 
 
 Committee. — I am satisfied that the tender pink in your 
 toe-nails was intended by nature to be admired, my dear bri- 
 gadier ! And there is nature's remonstrance — eloquent in^a 
 corn — against the airless confinement of boot and stocking ! 
 Why is a poet like a sandal ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Philosophize, my dear boy, don't quibble ! 
 
 (314) 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 315 
 
 Committee. — Because he's a soul kept under with a thong ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Willis, I love the sea ! 
 
 Committee. — So sung Barry Cornwall, " the open sea." As 
 if Pharaoh had not yet passed over ! To me the sea seems 
 on the contrary, for ever slamming down trap- doors of surf, 
 and carefully covering the "treasures of the deep" with 
 cold water. I never saw anything less " open !" 
 
 Brigadier. — There goes the sun down ! as red as — what 
 shall I compare it to ? 
 
 Committee. — A wafer, sealing up this 17th of August for 
 the doomsday postoffice. Happy they who have not forgotten 
 the P. 8. of repentance ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Ah, mi-boy ! that pious infancy of yours ! It 
 ozes through the after crust of your manhood in drops of 
 poetry ! Pity you are less of a saint than you were at seven- 
 teen ! 
 
 Committee. — Less of a saint I am not, though more of a 
 sinner I am. All I had seen at seventeen was beauty and 
 'goodness, and with an innate sense of beauty and goodness I 
 worshipped the Maker, my youth through, with a poet's ado- 
 ration ! The heart melts and drops upon its knees within a 
 man, at any sudden revelation of unusual loveliness ; and I 
 have worshipped God, and loved one of his angelic creatures, 
 with the white quivering lip of the same rush of blood inward. 
 If to look often and adoringly " through nature up to nature's 
 God " be devotion, I am still devout. No sunset, no morning's 
 beauty, no rich and sudden sight of loveliness in scenery goes 
 by without the renewal of that worship in my heart that was 
 once religion, I praise God daily. • Worldling as I am, and 
 hardly as I dare claim any virtue as a Christian, there is that 
 
316 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 within me which sin and folly never reached or tainted. The 
 unprompted and irresistible thoughts, upsprings in my mind in 
 any scene of beauty, would seem prayers, and pure ones, to 
 many an humble Christian. Pardon me for reading to you 
 this inner leaf, my dear brigadier ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Thank you, on the contrary, for its philosophy, 
 my dear boy ! Saints and wordlings have more feelings in 
 common than the pulpit admits. That I believe. 
 
 Committee. — The chasm between them in this world should 
 be narrowed, for they have many sympathies. The bigot 
 makes the separation unnaturally wide. "Who is the one man 
 mentioned in Scripture as " loved " by the Saviour ? The 
 " young ruler " who could not give up his " great possessions" 
 <( to inherit eternal life !" Is not this tender interest in one 
 " out of the fold," a lesson — a most unheeded lesson, to the 
 strict sect ? I talk feelingly 01 tms, ior I have an admiration 
 of goodness and purity that has never separated itself from my 
 love of beauty. I love a simple and unobtrusive piety, and 
 am drawn irresistibly toward the possessor. Yet this better 
 part of my nature is excluded with the rest, when I am denied 
 Christian sympathy. Come out of dream-land, brigadier, and 
 observe the tender violet in that upper cloud ! 
 
 Brigadier. — I was thinking whether the wave that falls upon 
 the beach is to be congratulated or pitied — comparing its ar- 
 rival, that is to say, with its " swell " time upon the sea. 
 
 Committee. — Congratulated, I should say. The hoary locks 
 with which it approaches the beach, though they are breakers 
 ahead when seen from the sea, are beautiful when seen from 
 the shore — as the head whitened with the dreaded troubles of 
 life, grows more beautiful in the eyes of angels, as it is more 
 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 317 
 
 whitened and troubled, approaching heaven ! But 'what hypo- 
 crites these shore-birds are, with their whitest plumes turned 
 earthward ! See that dark-backed snipe on the beach, with 
 his white-breast and belly ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Rather what knowledge of mankind they have 
 — preferring to keep their darker side for the more forgiving 
 eye of heaven ! 
 
 Committee. — True — the better reading ! Do you like snipe ? 
 
 Brigadier. — With a pork shirt they are' fairish — that is, if 
 you can't get woodcock. But, mi-boy, it isn't you that need 
 ever eat snipe ! 
 
 Committee. — As how ? 
 
 Brigadier. — {Pulling out the Sunday Mercury and reading) 
 — "Willis, it is said, has profited $5,000 D y the sale of the 
 last edition of " Pencillings by the Way." 
 
 Committee. — The mischief he has ! — for " has " read ivould 
 be pleased to. Perhaps the editor of the Mercury will be kind 
 enough to fork over the difference between fact and fiction ! 
 By-the-way, I have read the book, myself, for the first time in 
 eight years, and I have been both amazed and amused with the 
 difference between what I saw then, and what I know now ! 
 And I am going to give the public the same amazement and 
 amusement, by writing for the Mirror a review of " Pencil- 
 ling " with my new eyes — showing the interesting difference 
 between first impressions and after familiarity. 
 
 Brigadier.— They'll want to read " Pencillings" over again, 
 mi-boy ! 
 
 Committee.— For a hasty pudding it has held out surprising- 
 ly already. The fifth edition, embellished with engravings, is 
 still selling well in England, and in the most stagnant literary 
 
gig THE RAG-BAG, 
 
 month of the year we have sold two editions, as you know. I 
 am inclined to fear that I shall be less known by my careful 
 writings than by this unrevised book — written between fatigue 
 and sleep, by roadsides and in most unstudylike places, and 
 republished in the Mirror edition, exactly as first written ! 
 There is a daguerreotypity in literal first impressions, my dear 
 general, and a man would write an interesting letter, the first 
 moment after seeing the Colosseum for the first time, though a 
 description from memory, a month after, would be very stupid. 
 Did you ever feel posthumous, brigadier ? 
 
 Brigadier. — No. I never was dead. Do you remember 
 the first thought of " Pencillings," mi-boy — the oysters at 
 Sandy Welch's, over which I offered to send you abroad? 
 Committee. — Theodore Fay, you, and I, supping together ! 
 Brigadier. — You have a way of knowing opportunity when 
 you see it ! I little dreamed of so long a lease of you ! Dear 
 Theodore ! how I should like to eat that supper over again ! 
 
 Committee. — I am very glad it agreed with you (presuming 
 it is me and Theodore you want over again — not the oysters !) 
 They say Fay has grown fat, handsome and diplomatic. — 
 When shall we have that sweet fellow back among us? 
 
 Brigadier. — When they want the place for a green secretary, 
 who knows nothing of the court or court language. As soon 
 as a man has been long enough attached to a legation to be 
 presentable and useful, they recall him ! What is that other 
 letter I brought you ? 
 
 Committee. — From a lady at Fishkill, who is dazzled with 
 the upshoot of " Fanny Forester." She thinks Fanny's off- 
 hand piquancy is easy to do, and the letter shows how much 
 she is mistaken. I would fain say an encouraging word, how- 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 319 
 
 ever, for she seems to have the best of motives for wishing to 
 be literary. Now, is it kinder to discourage such beginners 
 at once, or to encourage them good-naturedly into a delusion ? 
 Brigadier. — Always discourage, mi-boy, for, if they have 
 genius, they will prosper 
 
 " like a thunder- cloud, against the -wind," 
 and if they have none, they are better stopped where they are. 
 How many heart-aching authoresses do we know at this 
 moment, who can write just well enough to be wofully dis- 
 tressed with the reluctance of the market ! The only style 
 saleable is the spicy but difficult vein of bright Fanny Forester, 
 and yet, to a neophyte, that very woof seems the easiest 
 woven ! A woman who is more intelligent than the people 
 around her, is very apt to believe that she might be famous, 
 and make money with her pen ; and unless 
 
 "Fair politure "walk all her body over, 
 And symmetry rejoice in every part," 
 
 she endeavors in this way to compensate herself for the lack 
 of belleship. Better raise flowers and sell bouquets, dear 
 Rosalie Beverly ! 
 
 Committee. — The gray lace of twilight's star-broidered veil 
 has fallen over the sea, brigadier. Let us paddle back through 
 the surf-edge to the bathing-houses, boot, and reappear to a 
 world (I don't think) disconsolate without us. 
 
CONFAB VI, 
 
 (Shop-door, Ann street. The Brigadier and Committee standing^ 
 sphinx-wise, outside.} 
 
 Brigadier. — The " devil" was here just now for " copy," 
 my dear boy ! 
 
 Committee. — The devil here and no Fanny Forester ! We 
 have given our readers a taste of this charming incognita^. 
 brigadier, and now they'll not feast without her ! I wonder 
 whether she's pretty ? 
 
 Brigadier. — So would she be over-endowed. No, mi-boy ! 
 I warrant that, with all her cleverness, she has envied, many 
 a time, the doll of the village ! 
 
 Committee. — A woman is, sometimes, wholly unadmired, 
 who would become enchanting by a change of her surround- 
 ings. That playful wit of Fanny Forester's, what-like shell 
 soever it inhabits, would make her the idol of a circle of ap- 
 preciators— for its work is in her face, someivhere ! Do you 
 
 remember George Sand's description of one of her heroines ? 
 
 (320) 
 
EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 321 
 
 "Elle 6tait jolie par juxta-position. Heureuse, elle eut ete 
 ravissante. Le bonheur est la poesie des femmes, comme la 
 toilette en est le fard. Si la joi d'un bal eut reflate" ses teints 
 rosees sur ce visage pale, si les douceurs d'une vie elegante 
 eussent rempli, eussent vermillione ses joues deja legerement 
 creus^es, si l'amour eut ranime.ses yeux tristes, elle aurait pu 
 lutter avec les plus belles jeunes filles. II lui manquait ce qui 
 cree une secondefois lafemme : — les chiffons et les billet-doux /" 
 
 Brigadier — (ivho had gone in to escape the French quotation, 
 and returned as the last word lingered 071 the committee's lips). 
 — "Write a " billet-doux" to the next unrisen star, mi-boy, and 
 ask her— (him, it, or her) — to shine first, like Fanny Forester, 
 in the columns of the Mirror. I love the baptism of genius, 
 and (modestly speaking) I have been the St. John in the 
 wilderness of new writers. 
 
 Committee. — Apostolic brigadier ! You do know a star, 
 even " at the breast" — though from sucking poets deliver me 
 mostly, oh, kind Heaven ! They exact a faith in their call 
 and mission that precludes everything but the blindest and 
 most acquiescent admiration. I remember my own difficult 
 submissions to the corrections of the kind, but truthful and 
 consistent critic of my youth, Buckingham of the Boston Cou- 
 rier. He was always right, but it is hard, when your feathers 
 are once smoothed down, to pluck out and re-stick them in 
 your poetical peacockery ! Ah, juvenilities ! We build bridges 
 over chasms of meaning, but they drop away behind us, as we 
 pass over ! In Heaven, where there will be no grammar and 
 dictionary, we shall have a new standard of excellence — 
 thought. Here, it is thought's harness — language! What 
 14* 
 
322 1,HE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 makes these people throw their potato-parings into the gutter, 
 my dear general ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Ann street, mi-boy, calls for the attention of 
 Mayor Harper. The Mirror has a dainty nostril or two, and 
 there are flower-pots in the windows opposite, and Burgess & 
 Stringer keep the choicest of literary conservatories, yet we 
 reside upon a rivulet of swill ! The simple enforcement of the 
 law would sweeten things, but there is no police except for 
 criminals in this land of liberty. Look at that brace of turtle- 
 doves coming up-street ! What loving friendships women 
 have, at an age when boys are perfect Ishmaelites. 
 
 Committee. — Pardon me, my dear general, if I correct your 
 cacology. • The sportsmen call two turtles a dule of turtles, 
 not a brace. Though, by-the-way, T have not long been in 
 possession of my learning upon that point. Let me read you 
 a chapter on the nomenclature of such matters from this book 
 in my hand. "Will you listen ? The book is " Goodman's 
 Social History of Great Britain" — a gem of delightful read- 
 ing :— 
 
 " The stags which ran wild in the king's forests were named 
 as early (if not earlier) as Edward III. (1307), from their ant- 
 lers ; thus the first year the male is called a calf, second year 
 a brocket, third year a spayer, fourth year a stag, fifth year a 
 great stag, sixth year a hart of the first head. 
 
 " In the notes of Sir "Walter Scott's ' Lady of the Lake,' is 
 a curious account of the brytling, breaking up, or quartering 
 of the stag. ' The forester had his portion, the hounds theirs, 
 and there is a little gristle, called the raven's bone, which was 
 cut from the brisket, and frequently an old raven was seen 
 perched upon a neighboring tree, waiting for it. 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS; 323 
 
 " The fallow-deer, which are kept in the English parks, have 
 also names, but not exactly the same as for stags. The males 
 and the females the first year are called fawns, second year 
 the females are called does, which name she always retains ; 
 but the male is called a prickett ; third year he is called a 
 shard ; fourth year a sword ; fifth year a sword-ell, or sorrell ; 
 sixth year, a buck of first head; seventh year, a buck; eighth 
 year, a full buck ; he is then fit for killing, and not before : 
 and in the summer is very fat, which he loses in winter. 
 Buck-venison is not fit to eat in winter, and ought not to be 
 killed. 
 
 " When beasts went together in companies, there was said 
 to be a pride of lions, a lepe of leopards, a herd of harts, of 
 bucks, and all sorts of deer ; a bevy of roes, a sloth of bears, 
 a singular of boars, a sowndes of swine, a dryfte of tame 
 swine, a route of wolves, a harass of horses, a rag of colts, a 
 stud of mares, a pace of asses, a barren of mules, a team of 
 oxen, a drove of kine, a flock of sheep, a tribe of goats, a sculk 
 of foxes, a cete of badgers, a richess of martins, a fessynes of 
 ferrets, a huske or a down of hares, a nest of rabbits, a clow- 
 der of cats, a kendel of young cats, a shrewdness of apes, and 
 a labor of moles. 
 
 " When animals are retired to rest, a hart was said to be 
 harbored ; a buck lodged ; a roebuck bedded ; a fox ken- 
 nelled ; a badger earthed ; a hare formed ; and a rabbit 
 seated, 
 
 " Dogs which run in packs are enumerated by couples. If 
 a pack of fox-hounds consist of thirty-six, which is an average 
 number, it would be said to contain eighteen couples. 
 
 " Dogs used for the gun, or for coursing, two of them are 
 
324 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 called a brace, three a leash ; but two spaniels, or harriers, are 
 called a couple. They also say a mute of hounds, for a num- 
 ber ; a kennel of raches, a cowardice of curs, and a litter of 
 whelps. 
 
 " ' The seasons for alle sortes of venery' were regulated in 
 the otden time as follows : The ' time of grace' begins at mid- 
 summer, and lasteth to holy-rood ; the fox may be hunted 
 from the nativity to the annunciation of our lady ; the roebuck 
 from Easter to Michaelmas; the roe from Michaelmas to Can- 
 dlemas ; the hare from Michaelmas to midsummer ; the wolf, 
 as the fox and the boar, from the nativity to the purification 
 of our lady. 
 
 " So for birds there is a vocabulary ; and first, for aquatic 
 birds: a herd of swans, of cranes, and of curlews, a dropping 
 of sheldrakes, a spring of teals, a serges of herons and bitterns, 
 a covert of cootes, gaggles of geese, sutes of mallards, baddy- 
 lynges of ducks. Now for meadow and upland birds : a con- 
 gregation of plovers, a walk of snipes, a fall of woodcocks, a 
 muster of peacocks, a nye of pheasants, a dule of turtles, a 
 brood of hens, a building of rooks, a numeration of starlings, 
 a flight of swallows, a watch of nightingales, a charm of gold- 
 finches, flights of doves and wood-pigeons, coveys of part- 
 ridges, bevies of quails, and exaltations of larks. 
 
 " When a sportsman inquires of a friend what he has killed, 
 the vocabulary is still varied ; he does not use the word pair 
 — but a brace of partridges, or pheasants, a couple of wood- 
 cocks ; if he has three of any sort, he says a leash. 
 
 " If a London poulterer was to be asked for a pair of chick- 
 ens, or a pair of ducks, by a female, he would suppose he was 
 talking to some fine finicking lady's maid, who had so puck- 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 325 
 
 ered up her mouth into small plaits before she started, that 
 she co.uld not open it wide enough to say couple. 
 
 "As the objects sportsmen pursue are so various, and as 
 the English language is so copious, various terms have been 
 brought into use : so that the everlasting term pair, this pair- 
 ing of anything (except in the breeding-season) sounds so rude, 
 uninstructive, and unmusical, upon the ears of a sportsman, 
 that he would as soon be doomed to sit for life by the side of 
 a seat-ridden cribbage-player as to hear it. 
 
 " It is the want of this knowledge which makes the writings 
 of Howitt and Willis, when they write upon this ever-interest- 
 ing national subject, appear so tame ; the sportsman peruses 
 their pages with no more zest than he listens to the babble of 
 a half-bred hound, or ' a ranging spaniel that barks at every 
 bird he sees — leaving his game.' " 
 
 Mr. Goodman adds, in a note, the explanation of my blun- 
 ders in dog-nomenclature : — 
 
 " Mr. Willis, in vol. hi., p. 203, ' Pencillings by the Way,' 
 gives the following information, speaking of the duke's grey- 
 hounds (at Gordon Castle) : ' " Dinna tak' pains to caress them, 
 sir," said the huntsman, " they'll only be hanged for it." I 
 asked for an explanation. He then told me that a hound was 
 hung the moment he betrayed attachment to any one, or in 
 any way showed superior sagacity. In coursing the hare, if 
 the dog abandoned the scent, to cut across or intercept the 
 animal, he was considered as spoiling the sport. If greyhounds 
 leave the track of the hare, either by their own sagacity, or to 
 follow the master in intercepting it, they spoil the pack, and 
 are hung without mercy.' Perhaps Mr. Willis will excuse 
 me if I show how unsportsmanlike this is. In the first place, 
 
326 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 there are no packs of greyhounds ; in the next place, those 
 who attend on them are not called huntsmen; in the next 
 place, they never run by scent: if they did, they ought to be 
 destroyed. As to the caressing, no dog ought ever to be 
 caressed without he had first performed some extraordinary 
 feat, and then it should be done instantly. The everlasting 
 petting or patting a dog, spoils it in its nature, its disposition, 
 its temper, and its habits. It becomes worthless, except as a 
 lapdog, and that is the most contemptible and worthless thing 
 in all God's creation. 
 
 " Many years' close observation has convinced me, that 
 where the dog is once admitted into the house, and petted, 
 the dogs rule the children, and the children rule the rest ; 
 bringing in its train all the usual concomitants of turbulence, 
 filth, and frowsiness ; and turning the room into a dog-kennel, 
 
 " ' If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then 
 For brutes to claim the privilege of men.' " 
 
 The correction is very right — thanks to Mr. Goodman. 
 My attention was called to the blunder, by the duke of Gor- 
 don himself, soon after the publication of the book in England ; 
 and I should have corrected it in this new edition, but for 
 determining not to read the proofs, that the letters might be 
 published literally from the first copy. But what beautifully 
 descriptive words are those in the nomenclature of birds, my 
 dear general : " A xoatch of nightingales ! — a charm of gold- 
 finches ! a numeration of starlings, and exaltations of larks !" 
 How pretty it would be, instead of, " Here come two pretty 
 women !" to say, " Here comes a charm of women !" Instead 
 of, " There stand Morris and Willis !" to have the shoemaker 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 327 
 
 opposite say, " Look at that pride of lions," or that " exalta- 
 tion of editors !" 
 
 Brigadier. — A "muster of peacocks" hits my fancy — de- 
 scriptive, say, of two loungers in uniform ! Aha ! mi-boy ! — 
 fine! 
 
 Committee. — Most brigadierish of brigadiers ! You would 
 rather be the sodger men have made you than the poet God 
 made you ! So would not I ! 
 
 Brigadier. — You rejoice in a destiny fulfilled, then ? 
 
 Committee. — Quite the contrary. I mean to say that God 
 made me a natural idler and trifier, and want made me a poet 
 and a worky ; and unlike you, I would rather be what God 
 made me. By-the-way, do you know the trouble there was 
 in the first composing of a horse ? This same amusing book 
 quotes from Fitzherbert's old book on agriculture : " A horse 
 has fifty-four properties, viz : two of a man, two of a badger, 
 four of a lion, nine of an ox, nine of a hare, nine of a fox, nine 
 of an ass, and ten of a woman. This description has been 
 somewhat altered, but perhaps not improved upon, viz : three 
 qualities of a woman, a broad breast, round hips, and a long 
 mane ; three of a lion, countenance, courage, and fire ; three 
 of a bullock, the eye, the nostrils, and joints ; three of a sheep, 
 the nose, gentleness, and patience ; three of a mule, strength, 
 constancy, and good feet ; three of a deer, head, legs, and 
 short hair ; three of a Wolf, throat, neck, and hearing ; three 
 of a fox, ear, tail, and throat; three of a serpent, memory, 
 sight, and cunning ; and three of a hare or cat, cunning, walk- 
 ing, and suppleness." 
 
CONFAB VII. 
 
 (Committee's private study. Brigadier lounging in a fauteuil.) 
 Committee. — My dear general, what do you think, abstract! y, 
 of industry ? Does no shuddering consciousness of awful pla- 
 titude creep over you, in this dreadfully exemplary career that 
 we are pursuing ? I feel as if the very nose on my face were 
 endeavoring to " dress," as you military men say — striving to 
 come down to the dull, cheek-bone level of tedious uniformity! 
 I declare I should be pleased to " hear tell" of something out 
 of the " way of business" — sentiment of some sort ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Listen to a song that I have just written. 
 There is a background of truth to it — the true sadness of a 
 lovely living woman — that would supply your need of a sen- 
 sation, if your imagination could picture her. 
 
 Committee. — It shall ! Eead away, my friend ! 
 (Brigadier reads.) 
 
 Committee. — That is a peculiarly musical and engaging 
 
 (328) 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 320 
 
 measure, and you have bung it upon hinges of honey. It 
 smacks of the days when poets wrote a song a year, finishing, 
 to the last vanishing point of perfection. What do the women 
 say to you for translating their prose into angel-talk ? 
 
 Brigadier. — They love poetry, mi-boy ! The more poetical 
 you can make their life, the more they love life and you I 
 They would rather suffer than live monotonously. So", be- 
 ware the " even tenor !" 
 
 Committee. — Even of prosperity, eh ? I'll beware when I 
 see it coming ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Ah, mi-boy, you have no idea of the intense 
 abstraction of mind necessary to bring a poetical imagination 
 down to habits of business. 
 
 Committee. — Do you really wish to Know what is to be the 
 new rage in society this winter ? 
 
 Brigadier. — What ? 
 
 Committee. — Married belles ! The 'teens dynasty is passing 
 away ! The talk, this summer, at all the watering places, has 
 been of beautiful women, who (if, perchance, they have loveljt 
 out their love) have not shone out their shine ! Heavens ! — 
 how many there are completely shelved in American society 
 who have never had more than two winters of vogue in the 
 world, and who are compelled to believe that, out of thirty 
 years of loveliness, only two are to be rescued from the nursery 
 ■ — only two to intervene between the nursery filial andihe nurse- 
 ry maternal ! What a utensil woman is, in this way ! For 
 what did Heaven give them their other powers ? Heaven did 
 not put the smile of woman under her arm ! No ! it was 
 placed where it could not be covered without suffocation, and, 
 doubtless, with a purpose : — that the lips and their outgoing 
 
£30 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 should be kept open to society ! Till those lips fade — till the 
 mind that speaks through them loses its playfulness and at- 
 traction, women cannot be monopolized without a manifest 
 waste of the gifts of nature — making that bloom for two years 
 only, that was constructed to bloom for forty ! Besides — 
 those very charms are withdrawn from the world before ripen- 
 ing—flowers permitted only to bud ! There never was a 
 belle who was not more agreeable after marriage than before. 
 An unripe mind is far less agreeable than a ripe one. The ele- 
 gant repose of lovely married women is far more enchanting 
 than the hoydenish romping or inexperienced sentiment of 
 girls. Speak up, brigadier ! What say ? 
 
 Brigadier. — It is highly natural, mi-boy, that this change 
 should be coming about noio ! But it was both natural and 
 necessary that, hitherto — in the unornamental foundation of 
 American society, woman should be reduced to her simple 
 primitive mission — shining like the glowworm, only long 
 enough to attract the male. When married, she passed into 
 •the condition of an operative in a nation-factory — a working 
 mother, a working educatress, a working patriot-maker. Her 
 whole time was then needed for offices that are now performed 
 — (all but the first) by schools, moral teachers, surrounding 
 example, and national routine. Lubricate the child now with 
 money, and it will slide on to manhood over an inevitable 
 railroad of education and good influences. Of course, the 
 mother is now at liberty to shine as long as nature feeds the 
 lamp ; and, indeed, it is in this way, only, that she can fulfil her 
 destiny — dispensing elsewhere the sweet influences- no longer 
 needed exclusively by her children. 
 
 Committee. — Statesmanlike and pellucid ! Well, sir, this 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 331 
 
 great national metamorphosis is now coming about ! It has 
 been secretly resolved, among the young married men of New 
 York, that there shall exist, this winter, & post- connubial belle- 
 ocracy\ and that married belles shall, accordingly, have the 
 pas, in waltz, quadrille, promenade, and conversation. How 
 delicious ! — isn't it ? It enlarges the field so ! I believe, 
 general, that I, for one, shall " cast my slough," and try my 
 youth on again ! 
 
 " For when the life is quickened, out of doubt, 
 The wits that were defunct and dead before, 
 Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 
 With casted slough and fresh legerity,' 
 
 and who knows? I may be agreeable in the reformed baby- 
 house of society ! 
 
 Brigadier. — "Hope on — hope ever !" 
 
CONFAB VIII. 
 
 (Committee and Brigadier, in confidential session.) 
 
 Committee. — My dear general, it won't do ! Read these 
 two letters ! 
 
 Brigadier. — I won't waste my eyes with them ! It must 
 do ! who says it won't do ? 
 
 Committee. — One Noggs. 
 
 Brigadier. — Who's Noggs ? 
 
 Committee. — By Jove, he writes a capital letter ! Hear this, 
 my incensed brigadier ! — (reads.) 
 
 " Dear "Willis : You frightened me to-day, terribly, in the 
 hint you threw out in the course of conversation with the 
 ' brigadier,' to wit : ' Shall we make it into a monthly ?' 
 
 " Make the Weekly New Mirror into a monthly ! God 
 forbid ! I forbid, anyhow. ' Who are you ?' I am a live 
 Yankee, at your service, who lives in the land of soles and 
 codfish, whig pow-wows and democratic clam-bakes — one who 
 
 (332) 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 333 
 
 .has not been so ' decorously brought up,' perhaps as some of 
 your readers, but - a man for a' that' — a constant reader of 
 the Mirror, at any rate — -proof of my manhood, eh ? 
 
 Weil, sir, I, Newman Noggs, Esq., of Lynn, county of Es- 
 sex, etc., etc., do hereby seriously and ardently protest against 
 any such nonsense as is implied in the above question. Excuse 
 me, sir, but I couldn't help it. I feel so worked up at the 
 bare idea of the visits of the Mirror coming only monthly, 
 that I can hardly stick to decency. Why, sir, I shouldn't be 
 in trim for my sabbath-day meeting — albeit a pious man am I 
 — were it not for the ' preparatory' study in the Mirror, Sa- 
 turday nights. Not that you are so dreadfully religious, but 
 there is always sure to be something in you that makes me feel 
 better, and when I feel ' better' I want to go to church, of 
 course, to let myself and the world know that I'm getting kind 
 o' good. As for the literary merits of the Mirror, it don't 
 become the like o' me to be offering an opinion. All I've got 
 to say is, that I l individually' like it first-rate. There's a sort 
 of racy, spicy, off-hand, unstudied wittiness about it that takes 
 my eye amazingly. So, for God's sake, or more particularly 
 for my sake, dear Willis, don't ye change it. Suppose it does 
 cost some folks a little more for postage than it would for 
 something else — what o' that ? Who's afraid of a cent or two ? 
 I'm a poor man 'long side o' some folk, and yet I rather pay 
 letter-postage than have it stop. So, Willis dear, just tell your 
 postage friends to" economize in some other department, or, if 
 they can't do that, tell 'em I'll make it up to 'em. 
 
 " No, no, friend of my early youth, don't think of any such 
 thing, that is, if ye love me — for I could better spare — some- 
 thing better, than the piquant dish of conversation which 
 
g34 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 weekly (oh, let it be ever weekly) occurs between ' mi-boy' and 
 our dearly-beloved general, the ' brigadier.' 
 
 " Mrs. Noggs, too — a strong woman, by the way — is, never- 
 theless, iveekly on this point, very. She says she'll never for- 
 give you if you change the fair form of the Mirror. Think o' 
 that ! though not a vain woman, she has a passion for looking 
 into the Mirror that is very affecting. On the other hand, she 
 says if you'll give up the horrid notion of changing the form 
 of the Mirror, she'll fry you ' a nipper' 1 as brown as a nut, 
 with her own fair hands, when next you come Bostonward, 
 and will visit our humble cottage near the sea. I have ye 
 now ! For, my well-tried friends, Gentleman Charles (him of 
 the Astor house, I mean) and his handsome partner, tell me 
 you are a gallant youth and well affected toward the ladies. 
 
 " We shall look anxiously in the next Mirror to find our 
 anxious hopes confirmed, and, if not disappointed, shall hence- 
 forth, as in duty bound, ever pray for your everlasting welfare, 
 world without end. 
 
 " Yours till then, Noggs." 
 
 Committee. — I have had twenty letters the last week (none 
 as good as that, but) all to the same purpose ! I am inclined to 
 think, general, that Heaven's first periodical (Sunday) was ar- 
 ranged in accordance with some revolution of our mental nature, 
 and that once in seven days, as it is good to rest, so it is good 
 to read, or grieve, or go love-making. Friends dine together 
 once a week, making friendship a weekly periodical. Lovers 
 of nature in cities ride to the country once a week. We eat 
 a boiled dinner once a week. Everybody in New England 
 needs beans once a week. The weather comes round once a 
 week — fair Sundays and wet Sundays coming in successive 
 
EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 335 
 
 dozens. There is nothing agreeable in nature that is monthly, 
 
 except the moon, and the very sight of that periodical put 
 people to sleep ; 
 
 Brigadier. — The subject troubles me, mi-boy! Let us 
 change it. I've a funny communication here, from a Rip Van 
 Winkle, who dates fifty years hence, and — 
 
 Committee. — Keep it till next week, general, and let us get 
 into the fresh air. I'm manuscript sick. Attons ! Stay — ■ 
 while I mend my outer man a little, read this funny letter, sent 
 me by the lady to whom it was written. She thinks her 
 friend, young ' Cinna Beverly,' is a genius. 
 
 Brigadier reads with an occasional laugh. 
 
 " TO MISS PHCEBE LOHN. 
 
 a Dear Bel-Phcebe : I have been ' twiddling my sunbeam' 
 (you say my letters are ' perfect sunshine') for some time, more 
 or less, in a quandary as to what is now resolved upon as 
 Dear Bel-Phcebe' — the beginning of this (meant-to-be) fault- 
 less epistle. I chanced to wake critical this morning, and, 
 ' dear Phoebe,' as the begining of this letter of mine, looked 
 both vulgar and meaningless, I inked it out as you see. A 
 reference to my etymological dictionary, however, restored 
 my liking for that ' dear' word. It is derived from the Anglo- 
 Saxon verb Der-ian, which means to do mischief. Hence 
 dearth, which, by doing mischief, makes what remains more 
 precious, and hence dear, meaning something made precious by 
 having escaped hurting. ' Dear Phoebe,' therefore (meaning 
 unhurt Pha.be) struck me as pretty well — you being one of 
 those delicious, late-loving women, destined to be ' hurt' first 
 at thirty. Still, the sacred word ' Phoebe' was too abruptly 
 come upon. It sounded familiar, and familiarity should be 
 
336 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 reserved for the postscript. I should have liked to write ' dear 
 Lady Phoebe,' or ' dear Countess Phoebe' — but we are not 
 permitted to ' read our title clear,' in this hideously simple 
 country. Might I invent an appellative ? "We say char-woman 
 and horse-man — why not put a descriptive word before a 
 lady's name, by way of respectful distance. Phoebe Lorn is 
 a belle — why not say Bel- Phoebe? Good! It sounds 
 authentic. This letter, then, is to Phce.be, unhurt and beavti- 
 ful (alias,) ( Dear Bel-Phoebe !' 
 
 " You are an ephemeron of a month — the month at Sara- 
 toga, in which you get wings to come forth from your eleven 
 months' chrysalis in the country — and you are now once more 
 ' gathered to your fathers,' and mourning over the departed 
 summer ! Your Arabian mare feels your thrilling weight 
 again, and you astonish your pet cow with sponge cake over 
 the lawn fence, and give caraways- to your top-knot hens, and 
 say ' Sir' to your greyhound, and make-believe care for your 
 dahliahs and tuberoses — but the pleasantest part of the day, 
 after all, is its heavenly twilight of closed eyelids, when you 
 can live over again that month at Saratoga — myself, perhaps, 
 then, cursorily-remembered ! Por you rejoice in the perils of 
 love, unhurt and adorable Phoebe. 
 
 " But you know enough about yourself and you wish to 
 hear about the town ! Well ! — the flies are numb with the 
 first frost, the window-blinds are open nearly to Union square, 
 somebody has been seen with a velvet waistcoat, starch is 
 1 looking up,' and the town is full of palmetto-hatted and 
 ready-made-clothing-ized southerners. By these data judge 
 of the epoch. I, myself, am among my dusted household gods, 
 and, at this moment (writing in my bed-room) see my boots 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 337 
 
 phalanxed in their winter parade. I must say it is, so far, 
 pleasant ! Perhaps — but you want news, not the philosophy 
 of boots in repose. 
 
 " You heard of the marriage of one of our wild Indians to 
 an English girl, not long ago in London. She has been at 
 the Waverley some days, and has excited no little curiosity. 
 She is moderately handsome, but in such an unusual style 
 of beauty that she out-magnetizes many a more strictly beau- 
 tiful woman. My vaurien friend, E., the artist, (who chanced 
 to dine opposite the chief and chief-ess at the table d'hote a 
 day or two since) declares the face to be wholly unique, and a 
 sufficient explanation of the extraordinary whim of her mar- 
 riage. I have never, myself, wondered at it. The crust, 
 impenetrable upward, of English middle life, is enough to 
 drive genius of any kind more mad than this ! "What hell like 
 inevitable mediocrity in anything ! This fine woman, now 
 going to live a dog's life with an Indian in the wilderness, 
 would have spent her days in a brick row, and grown idiotic 
 with looking out upon the same sidewalk till death. Which 
 would you rather ? 
 
 " Do you remember (for beautiful women don't always re- 
 member beautiful women) the adorable Mrs. C, at Saratoga 
 — that charming specimen of a healthy and practicable angel ? 
 She has been here a week on her return from Niagara, and 
 Elagg, the beauty-painter, has stolen a copy of her on can- 
 vass. Ah, Bel-Phoebe ! You have a loss in not realizing 
 what it is to a man when an exquisite face holds still to be 
 critically admired ! You can see the grain of the velvet in 
 her brown eye, now, and trace by what muscle her heart 
 pulls, to keep down that half-sad corner of her delicious 
 15 
 
338 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 mouth. He is an appreciator, that Flagg, and paints a wo- 
 man as she looks to appreciators — differently from the 
 butchers'-meat estimation of common gazers on "beauty. Mrs. 
 C. has gone to Baltimore, where beauty is an indigenous drug 
 belles of that ' city rich in women' being never valued till 
 transplanted. But heavens ! how tired you will be of reading 
 this long female paragraph ! Hasten to speak of something 
 with a man in it ! 
 
 " One of the most fascinating men in England is ekeing out 
 an exile from May fair, by singing and lecturing on songs to 
 the delighted Croton drinkers. He is a man of that quiet 
 elegance of address that seems nothing in a woman's way till 
 she has broken her neck over it, and he sings as such a man 
 shouldn't — to be a safe man, that is to say ! Fancy Moore's 
 songs any more bewitched than Moore intended ! Mr. 
 McMichael's voice glides under your heart like a gondola 
 under a balcony — Moore's melody representing the embel- 
 lished and enriched moonlit water. It is the enchanted per- 
 fection of lover-like, and gentleman-like song singing. I heard 
 Moore sing his own songs in England, and Mr. McMichael 
 sings them in the same style — only in apotheosis ! (Ask your 
 papa to translate that big word.) 
 
 " Do you care about theatres ? "We have a new tragedian, 
 about whose resemblance to Macready the critics are quarrel- 
 ing, and a new tragedian-ess, who has put the boxes into fits 
 by coming on the stage without a — ■ — bustle ! Eancy Desde- 
 mona without a bustle !) Of course you are surprised, for 
 this is one of these ' coming events' that could not possibly 
 ' cast their shadows before,' but fashion is imperative, and 
 
 * "Where ruled the {bustle) Nature broods alone V 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS; 339 
 
 I understand the omnibuses are to be re-licensed to carry four- 
 teen inside, and the shops in Broadway are petitioning (so 
 Alderman Cozzens told me to-day) to put out bow-windows, 
 in expectation of the vacated space. 
 
 " Seriously, there has been a growing mistrust (Pearl-street- 
 ingly speaking) of the article woman, as shown to customers ! 
 Thank fashion, there is more chance now of a poor youth's 
 knowing the (' ground covered by the imposing obligations of 
 matrimony !') 
 
 " Hast thou great appetite, and must I vouchsafe thee still 
 another slice of news? The new hotel up-town is waxing 
 habitable, and the proprietor is in a quandary what to call it. 
 The natural inquiry as to what would be descriptive, has sug- 
 gested a look at the probabilities of custom, and it is supposed 
 that it will be filled partly with that class of fashionables who 
 feel a desire to do something in life besides laboriously ' keep 
 house,' partly by diplomatists and dandies wishing to be ' con- 
 vaynient' to balls and chez-elles, and partly by such European- 
 ized persons as have a distaste for American gregariousness, 
 and desire a voice as to the time and place of refreshing and 
 creature. The arrangements are to surpass any previous cis- 
 Atlantic experience, and the whole project is considered as 
 the first public flower of the transplanted whereabout of aris- 
 tocracy. It has been proposed to call it May Pair. Hotel — 
 ' May Fair' being the name of the fashionable nucleus of Lon- 
 don. Hauteville Hotel has been suggested, descriptive of 
 its position up-town. Hotel Recherche, Hotel Choisi, are 
 names proposed also, but more liable to criticism, I, myself, 
 proposed A l'abi — as signifying a house aside from the rush 
 of travel and business. Praise that, if you please ! Billings, 
 
340 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 the lessee, is a handsome man, of a very up town address, with 
 the finest teeth possible for the welcome to new-comers— this 
 last no indifferent item ! He is young — but young people are 
 the fashion. ' Young England ' and ' Young Prance' wield 
 the power. I have not mentioned the system of the hotel, by 
 the way, which is that of Meurice's at Paris — a table-cPhote and 
 a restaurant, and dinner in public, or private, or not at all, at 
 your option. Charming — won't it be ? 
 
 " Crawford, the sculptor, has come home from Italy, and, 
 as' he is the American, par excellence, in whom resides the 
 sense of beauty, I trust he may see you. 
 
 " "What else had I to say ? Something — but I'll write it on 
 a slip, for it will be personal, and you like to show all your 
 letters to ' the governor.' 
 
 " Adieu, dear Bel-Phoebe, and pray tear up the slip enclosed 
 as soon as you have recovered from fainting. Yours at dis- 
 cretion, Cinna Beverley, jr." 
 
CONFAB IX. 
 
 (after the opera.) 
 
 {Supper in 184's room at the Astoi — the brigadier here " on business" 
 — a poulet pique, and a bottle of champagne in silver tissue paper, 
 also here " on business" — Eleven O'Clock, Esq., just parting from 
 the bell of St. Paul's, with a promise to be " round in the morning") 
 
 Brigadier, (nodding, and taking up his glass). — Mi-boy ! 
 
 184 {laying his hand on the generaVs arm). — Not in such 
 profane haste, my prompt sodger! That glass of wine is the 
 contemporary of bliss — sent to us to be drank to the health of 
 a bride, now three hours past the irrevocable gate. 
 
 Brigadier. — Married at eight? Do you say that? God 
 bless her, in a bumper ! (gazes abstractedly into the bottom of 
 the glass $ and speaks musingly.) — Ten minutes past eleven ! — 
 Well, who's the lady, and who the happy man ? 
 
 184. — One of our parish, who, though he does not person- 
 ally know us, wishes us to be made aware of his happiness. 
 
 (341) 
 
342 THE BAG-BAG; 
 
 "We have written ourselves into his bosom. God bless him 
 for the loving door in his eye — isn't so, my tree-sparer ! So 
 may all men take us in ! Try a bit of chicken now, general, 
 or that tear in your eye will fall back on an empty stomach ! 
 
 Brigadier. — And what a difference it makes — what it falls 
 back upon, mi-boy ! The salt in a tear is not natural, depend 
 on it, or the in'ards would take to it more kindly. "What an 
 etiquette of mercy it would be, now, to make pathos and bad 
 news matters of full-dress — never to be alluded to in good 
 society, till a man has ceased, as Menenius says, " to pout 
 upon the morning !" What's your to-morrow's leader ? 
 
 184. — Not coming to business at the second glass, I hope? 
 Fie on you for a disrespect to the bride. {The brigadier 
 blushes, and covers his confusion by reading the label on the bot- 
 tle.) How enchantingly old Belisario and his captive sung 
 their vows of friendship to-night ! Ah, music and lights ! — 
 things are so much finer for embellishing ! Our small friend- 
 ship now, general — brought forward to the prompter's cup- 
 board and foot-lights — do you think it would be encored, like 
 that? 
 
 Brigadier. — As you don't ask for information, mi-boy, let's 
 proceed to business. Can you give me an idea of your to- 
 morrow's editorial? 
 
 184.— No ! 
 
 Brigadier. — And the boy is to come for it at seven ! 
 
 184 {seizing a pen) — What shall it be ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Why, there's the mud in the streets — and the 
 Bohemian Girl — and the wretched weather — and the mena- 
 gerie — and Vandenhoff — and Stuart's candy-shop — and Mrs. 
 Coles — 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 
 
 343 
 
 184. — By — the — by ! — a discovery ! — Tryon ought to head 
 
 his play-bills with the Marsellois war-cry — " to arms ! to 
 
 arms !" I never saw a pair in my life more exquisitely 
 moulded and polished than Mrs. Coles's, of the Bowery cir- 
 cus — as shown after her third undoing on horseback. It takes 
 a symmetrical woman, of course, to stand tiptoe upon a flying 
 horse, and strip, from a jacketed Cracovienne to a short- 
 sleeved evening dress — but ladies of this vocation, well made 
 in all other respects, are usually thin from the elbow to the 
 shoulder. Shall I make a " leader" of Mrs. Coles ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Certainly not, mi-boy, nor a follower either. 
 Just indicate, as it were — call attention mysteriously — hint 
 somehow — that there is a part of the equestrian performance 
 that reminds you of things you saw in Italy — statuary or 
 something — delicately, mi-boy — very delicately. What else 
 have you got down there in your memorandum-book ? 
 
 184. — Half a dozen topics. Here's a note that smells of 
 " above Bleecker," requesting us to implore of Japonica-dom 
 not to give parties on opera-nights. Really, they should not ! 
 The opera is a rare luxury, without which a metropolis is like 
 a saloon without a mirror, and there should be a little combi- 
 nation, among refined people — if not to give it extra support, 
 at least to throw no hinderance in its way. They do this in 
 London — (where, by the way, there are but two operas a 
 week, and it would be quite enough here) — Lady Blessington, 
 for one, never " at home" on opera nights, and dinner-parties 
 are given at an earlier hour to release people in time. The 
 quality of the opera depends, of course, on its enthusiastic 
 support, and those who can appreciate it can do no less, I 
 think, than to go in full dress, and go habitually It is far 
 
S4 a THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 pleasanter than a party, is over at bearable bed-time, and, 
 just now, the company at Palmo's is too good to be slighted. 
 And, by the way, have you thought how gloriously Pico has 
 beggared the loud trumpet we blew for her on her first ap- 
 pearance ? " Ants," says the old proverb, " live safely till 
 they have gotten wings, and juniper is not thrown away till it 
 hath gotten a high top." She is neither your ant nor your 
 juniper-blossom — is she general ? 
 
 Brigadier {ioho has been dozing.) — Not my aunt, mi-boy, 
 whoever you're talking of. I never had one — hope I never 
 shall. 
 
 184. — "What's that note falling out of your pocket, mean- 
 time ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Well thought of — I brought it to you for a 
 paragraph. What do you think it is ? A complaint from 
 the ladies that the young men waylay them on the staircases ! 
 
 184. — Heavens and Sabines! wait till I dip my pen in the 
 thunder-stand! Who? How? When? How many ? 
 
 Brigadier. — At parties — at parties — my dear boy — don't be 
 violent. This lady declares {brigadier opens the note) that it 
 is a " perfect nuisance, the mere descent from the dressing 
 room to the ball-room" — " a pretty girl has to come down a 
 perfect ladder of boys — every stair an engagement to dance" 
 — " no chance for a pick" — " her mind fatigued with the effort 
 to remember her partners" — " no hope of dancing with a 
 grown-up man from Christmas to April" — " green talk alto- 
 gether" — " dreadful sense of unripeness" — " no subject but 
 Pico and Polk • " — " begs we will write the boys off the stair- 
 case," etc. etc. You see your subject. 
 
 184. — Shall I tell you why that was not written by a wo- 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 34.5 
 
 man ? Don't you see that if this system of long lists of en- 
 gagements were done away, a lady would have no escape 
 from a disagreeable partner — no plea of too many engage- 
 ments — no chance for a lie whiter than many a truth ? Don't 
 you see, that (now duelling is laughed at) a lady can 
 leave out an early partner on the list, or slip a tardy one in, 
 with perfect ease and comfort — distressing nobody's mamma 
 with fears of Hoboken ! Leave the ladies alone for putting 
 down troublesome usages ! Your letter was written by some 
 old coxcomb going out of fashion, who can get nobody to 
 dance with him, and lays it to the boys on the staircase ! Tut ! 
 
 Brigadier.— Twelve o'clock, and where's your leader 1 Oh, 
 mi-boy, think of tomorrow's paper ! 
 
 184. — Hang the leader ! Let's go without it — once in a way. 
 
 Brigadier — Gracious, no ! What will the public say 1 
 There goes one o' clock ! Bed-time (for me — not for you) — 
 and nothing from you for the boy in the morning ! Oh, mi- 
 boy, sit up ! Go and wash your face^ and feel fresh. Write 
 a paragraph requesting the Mirror brides to send their cham- 
 pagne, hereafter, exclusively to the talking partner. Where's 
 my hat ? Get inspired, mi-boy, get inspired. Good night. 
 
 184.- — Stay — stay — stay. Listen to this ! (184 reads the 
 foregoing dialogue to the brigadier, tvhose face gradually re- 
 sumes its tisual serene placidity. He lays doivn his hat, and 
 picks another wing of the chicken.'). 
 
 Brigadier. — And you have been writing this down, all the 
 time, with your hand deep in that old cabinet ! Bless me, 
 what a boy you are for expedients. I thought you was 
 scratching autographs, or writing " Pico," or sketching Glen- 
 mary, or something ! But you haven't mentioned the weekly. 
 
 15* 
 
346 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 
 184. — Poh ! it doesn't want mentioning. 
 
 Brigadier. — Not more than the sun and moon, and other 
 periodicals — but you trust the world's memory too much, my 
 worky ! They'd forget the sun shone if it wasn't down in the 
 almanac. Say something ! 
 
 184. — Well, let's see ! It's our diary of the world's goings- 
 on and what we think of it — published every seventh day. It 
 is a week's corn, ground, sifted, and bagged, for those who 
 can't go to mill every day. It is a newspaper without the 
 advertisements and other trumpery — at half price, in conse- 
 quence of lumber left out, and one postage instead of seven. 
 It is edited every day, and other weeklies are edited once a 
 week. It gives the news, the fashions, the fun, the accidents, 
 the operas, and our all-spice to make it keep, in a handsome, 
 preservable shape — bindable for reference and re-reading — 
 " the times" as it were, " boned and potted." Shall I say 
 any more ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Three dollars a year — 
 
 184. — Mum, man ! Never mention money after midnight. 
 "What will the angels say? Go to bed — go .to bed. {Exit 
 brigadier, after a silent embrace.) 
 
CONFAB X. 
 
 SUPPER AFTER THE OPERA, 
 
 Private room over the Mirror office, corner of Ann and Nassau — Sup- 
 per on the round table, and brigadier mixing summat and water — 
 Flagg, the artist, fatiguing the salad with a paper-folder — Devil in 
 waiting — Quarter past ten, and enter "Yours Truly" from the opera. 
 
 Brigadier. — Here he comes, like a cloud dropping from 
 Olympus — charged with Pico-tricity ! Boy (to the u devil"), 
 slick a steel pen in my hat for a conductor ! Now — let him 
 rain ! 
 
 Flagg. — Echo — let him reign ! 
 
 Yours Truly — (looking at the salad-dish.) — Less gamboge 
 for me, if you please, my dear artist ! Be merciful of mustard 
 when you mix for public opinion ! But, nay ! brigadier ! 
 
 Brigadier. — Thank you for not calling on me to bray, mi- 
 boy ! What shall I neigh at ? 
 
 Yours Tnoly. — How indelicate of you to call on an artist to 
 exercise his profession on a party of pleasure ! 
 
 Brigadier. — How ? 
 
 (347) 
 
348 TRE BAG-BAG. 
 
 Yours Truly. — Setting him to grind colors in a salad-dish ! 
 "What are you tasting with that wooden ladle, my periodical 
 sodger ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Two of (( illicit " to one of Croton — potheen 
 from a private still in the mountains of Killarny ! Knowles 
 sent it to me ! You have no idea what a flavor of Kate Kear- 
 ney there is about it ! — (fmff ! fmff!) 
 
 Flagg — [absently). — I smell the color of the heath-flowers in 
 it — crocus-yellow on a brown turf! 
 
 Brigadier. — Stick a pin there, mi-boy! — a new avenue to 
 the brain for things beautiful ! Down with privileged roads 
 in a republic ! "Why should the colors mixed for a limitless 
 sense of beauty go in only at the eye ? 
 
 Flagg. — No reason why. I wish we could hear colors ! 
 
 Brigadier. — So you can, my inspired simplicity ! and taste 
 them, too ! You can hear things that are read, and you can 
 taste the brown in a turkey ! ( Turning to Yours Truly) — 
 Was that well said, my dear boy ? 
 
 Yours Truly. — Pardon me if I suggest still an improvement 
 in the aristocracy of the senses ! The eye has a double door 
 of fringed lids, and the mouth an inner door of fastidious 
 ivory ; and, with the power to admit or exclude at will, these 
 are the exclusive organs ! The republicans are the nose and 
 ear — open to all comers, and forced to make the best of them ! 
 
 Flagg. — A new light, by Jupiter ! Let us pamper the aris- 
 tocracy ! An oyster for my ivory gate, if you please, general, 
 and let us spite the ear's monopoly of Pico by drinking her in 
 silence ! ( ) 
 
 Brigadier. — ( ) 
 
 Yours Truly. — ( ) 
 
EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 349 
 
 Brigadier. — Touching Pico — is she, or isn't she 1 — you 
 know what I want to know, my boy ! Disembowel your men- 
 tal oyster ! What ails Borghese ? What is a " contralto ?" 
 Is it anything wrong — or what ? 
 
 Yours Truly. — A contralto, my particular general, is a 
 voice that touches bottom — rubs your heart with its keel, as 
 it were, while floating through you — comparing with a soprano, 
 as the air on a mountain-top compares with a breeze from 
 lower down. 
 
 Brigadier. — Best possible description of yourself, mi-boy ! 
 Go on, my contralto ! 
 
 Flagg. — Yes— go on about Borghese — what is the philoso- 
 phy of Borghese's salary being the double of Pico's? 
 
 Yours Truly. — Ah ! now you touch the weight that keeps 
 Borghese down ! The public, like yourself, ask why the prima- 
 donna who gives them the more pleasure is the poorer paid ! 
 Borghese — but first let me tell you what I think of her, com- 
 parison apart. (Boy, light a cigar-, and keep it going with 
 the bellows, a la pastille ! I like the smoke, but to talk with 
 a cigar in the mouth spoils the delicacy of discrimination.) 
 
 Brigadier.^- Spare us the scientific, mi-boy ! 
 
 Yours Truly. — Why, what do you mean ? I am as igno- 
 rant of music, my dear sodger, as an Indian is of botany — 
 but he knows a weed from a flower, and I talk of music as the 
 audience judge of it — by what I hear, " mark, and imwardly 
 digest." 
 
 Brigadier. — But the big words, my dear contralto ! 
 
 Yours Truly. — " Foreign slip slops," I grant you — but 
 nothing more ! — I lived three years in Italy, and, of course, 
 heard Italian audiences express themselves, and here and there 
 
350 TH-E RAG BAG - 
 
 a phrase sticks to me— but if I know " B sharp" from " ~BflaV 
 (which is more than some musical critics know,) it is the extent 
 of my knowledge. No, general ! there is no sillier criticism 
 of music than technical criticism. You might as well paint 
 cannon-balls piebald and then judge of their effect by remem- 
 bering which color showed through the touch-hole before 
 priming ! Notes go to the ear ; effects shower the nerves. A 
 musician who is a critic, judges of a prima-donna by the accu- 
 racy with which she imitates what he (the musician) has played 
 on an instrument — like a tight-rope dancer criticising his bro- 
 ther of the slack-rope, because he don't swing over the pit ! 
 Analyze the applause at an opera ! There are, perhaps, ten 
 persons in a Palmo audience who are scientific musicians. 
 These ten admire most what they can most exclusively admire 
 — rapid and (difficult passages what the Italians call florituri, 
 or " flourishes") executed with the most skilful muscular effort 
 of the vocal organs. These ten, however, pass over, as very 
 pleasant accidents of the opera, the part which pleases the rest 
 of the audience — the messa di voce — the tender expression of 
 slower notes which try the sweetness of the voice — the abso- 
 luteness of the "art concealing art," and which, more than all, 
 betrays the personal sensibility and quality of the actress's mind. 
 My dear brigadier, true criticism travels a circle, and ends 
 where it began — ivith nature. But as the art of the prima- 
 donna brings her to the same point, the unscientific audience 
 are most ivith the most skilful prima-donna — nearer to a just 
 appreciation of her than musicians are. 
 
 Brigadier. — Now I see the reason I am so enchanted with 
 Pico, mi-boy ! I was afraid I had no business to like her — 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 351 
 
 as I didn't know Italian music! What a way you have of 
 making me feel pleasant ! 
 
 Yours Truly. — Pico has enchanted the town, brigadier! 
 and I have endeavored to put the flesh and blood of language 
 to the ghost of each night's enchantment. That ghost of re- 
 membrance sticks by us through the next day, and I thought 
 it would be agreeable to the Mirror readers to have the im- 
 pression of the music recalled by our description of it. Have 
 I done it scientifically ? Taste forbid ! — even if I knew how ! 
 I interpret for " the million" — not for " the ten." 
 
 Flagg. — But about Borghese ! 
 
 Yours Truly. — "Well — I have a great deal to say about Bor- 
 ghese — I have a great deal of the " flesh and blood" I just 
 spoke of, in reserve for Borghese ; but I shall follow a strong 
 public feeling, and not clothe her enchantments with language, 
 till she slacks her hold upon the purse-strings, and shares 
 equally, at least, with the donna whom the public prefer. 
 There goes the brigadier — fast asleep ! Good night, gentle- 
 men ! {Exit " Yours Truly.") 
 
CONFAB "XI. 
 
 BREAKFAST ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. 
 
 Astor house, No. 184 — nine o'clock in the morning — breakfast for two 
 on the table— enter the brigadier. 
 
 Brigadier. {Embracing " ws.")— Mi-boy ! GOD BLESS 
 YOU!! 
 
 " We." ( With his hand to his forehead.) — "With what a sculp- 
 tured and block-y solidity you hew out your benedictions, my 
 dear general ! You fairly knock a man over with blessing him ! 
 Sit down and wipe your eyes with that table-napkin. 
 
 Brigadier. — "Well — how are you ? 
 
 " We." — Hungry ! I'll take a wing of the chicken before 
 you — killed probably last year. How many " friends, coun- 
 trymen, and lovers," are you going to call on to day ? 
 
 Brigadier. — I wish I knew how many I shall not call on ! 
 What is a — (pass the butter if you please) — what is a pat of 
 
 (352) 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 353 
 
 butter, like one, spread over all the daily bread of my acquain- 
 tance ? 
 « We."— 
 
 " 'Tis Greece— but living Greece no more !" 
 
 I'll tell you what /have done, general. Here is a list of all 
 my circle of pasteboard. It begins with those I love, and ends 
 with those with whom I am ceremonious. Those whom I 
 neither love nor am ceremonious with, form a large between 
 ity of indifference ; and though you may come to love those 
 with whom you are ceremonious, you never can love those you 
 are wholly indifferent to. I have crossed out this betweenity. 
 Life is too short to play even a game of acquaintance in which 
 there is no possible stake. 
 
 Brigadier. — How short life is, to be sure ! 
 
 " We." — Shorter this side the water than the other ! In 
 Europe a man is not bowed out till he is ready to go ! Here, 
 he is expected to have repented and made his will at thirty- 
 seven ! I shall pass my " second childhood" in Prance, where 
 it will pass for a continuation of the first-! 
 
 Brigadier. — My dear boy, don't get angry ! Eat your 
 breakfast and talk about New Year's. What did the Greeks 
 used to do for cookies ? 
 
 " We." — Well thought of — they made presents of dates 
 covered with gold leaf! Who ever gilds a date in this coun- 
 try ? No, no, general ! You will see dozens of married 
 women to-day who have quietly settled down into upper ser- 
 vants with high-necked dresses — lovely women still — who 
 would be belles for ten years to come, in France ! Be a mis- 
 sionary, brigadier ! Preach against the unbelievers in rhulie- 
 
354 THE RAG-BAG. 
 
 brity ! It's New Year and time to begin something ! Implore 
 your friends to let themselves be beautiful once more ! 
 (Breast-bone of that chicken, if you please !) I should be con- 
 tent never to see another woman under thirty — their loveable 
 common-sense comes so long after their other maturities ! 
 
 Brigadier. — What common place things you do say, to be 
 sure ! "Well, mi-boy, we are going to begin another year !. 
 
 " We." — Yes — prosperously, thank God ! And, oh, after 
 the first in-haul of rent from these well-tenanted columns, what 
 a change we shall make in our paper ! Let us but be able to 
 afford the outlay of laborious aid, which other editors pay for, 
 and see how the Mirror will shine all over ! I have a system 
 in my brain for a daily paper — the fruit of practical study for 
 the last three months — which I shall begin upon before this 
 month has made all its icicles ; and you shall say that I never 
 before found my true vocation ! The most industriously ed- 
 ited paper in the country is but the iron in the razor ; and 
 though it is not easy to work that into shape, anybody can 
 hire it done, or do it with industry. The steel edge, we shall 
 find time to put on, when we are not, as now, employed in tink- 
 ering tlie iron ! 
 
 Brigadier, — Black-and-white-smiths — you and I ! 
 
 " We." — No matter for the name, my dear general ! — one 
 has to be everything honesty will permit, to get over the gulf 
 we have put behind us. Civilized life is full of the most un- 
 bridged abysses. Transitions from an old business to a new, 
 or from pleasure to business, or from amusing mankind to 
 taking care of yourself, would be supposed, by a "green" 
 angel, to be good intentions, easy enough carried out, in a 
 
EDITORIAL CONFABS. 355 
 
 world of reciprocal charities. But let them send down the 
 most popular angel of the house of Gabriel & Co., to borrow 
 money for the most brilliant project, without bankable security ! 
 And the best of it is, that though your friends pronounce the 
 crossing of a business-gulf, on your proposed bridge of brains, 
 impossible and chimerical, they look upon it as a matter of 
 course when it is done ! You and I are poets — if the money 
 and fuss we have made will pass for evidence — yet nobody 
 thinks it surprising that we have taken off our wings, and 
 rolled up our shirt-sleeves to carry the hod ! Not to die with- 
 out having experienced all kinds of sensations, I wish to be 
 ^ich — though it will come to me like butter when the bread is 
 ,gone to spread it on. Heigho ! 
 
 Brigadier. — How you keep drawing similitudes from what 
 you see before your eyes ! Let me eat my breakfast without 
 turning it into poetry ! It will sour on my stomach, my dear 
 boy! 
 
 "■We." — So you are ordered out to smash the Helderbergers, 
 general ? __ 
 
 Brigadier. — Ordered to hold myself in readiness — that's all 
 at present. I wish they'd observe the seasons, and rebel in 
 pleasant weather ! Think of the summit of a saddle with the 
 thermometer at zero ! Besides, if there is any fighting to do 
 one likes an enemy. This campaign to help the constable, 
 necessary as it is, goes against my stomach ! 
 
 "We" — Fortify it, poor thing! What say to a drop of 
 curacoa before you begin your New Year's round ? {Pouring 
 for the general and himself .) Burke states, in his "Vindica- 
 tion of Natural Society," that your predecessor, Julius Csesar, 
 
356 THE BAG-BAG, 
 
 was the means of killing two millions one hundred thousand 
 men ! How populous is Helderberg — women and all ? 
 
 Brigadier. — Twelve o'clock, my dear boy, and time to be 
 shaking hands and wishing. Take the first wish off the top 
 of my heart — a happy New Year to you, and — 
 
 " We." — Gently with that heavy benediction ! 
 
 Brigadier. — God bless you, mi-boy ! 
 
 {Exit the brigadier, affected.) 
 
26 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY CHAS. SCRIBNER. 
 
 RURAL LETTERS, 
 
 AND OTHER RECORDS OP THOUGHTS AT LEISURE. 
 BY N. P. WILLIS. 
 Embracing " Letters from under a Bridge," " Open-Air Musings in the 
 City," " Invalid Rambles in Germany," " Letters from Watering Places," 
 &c, &c. 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Fourth edition. Price $1 25. 
 
 This volume has won for the author a reputation as one of the most agreeable writers 
 of light and gossiping literature in our country. 
 
 " There is scarcely a page in it which the reader will not remember, and turn to agai. 
 with a fresh sense of delight. It bears the imprint of Nature in her purest and most 
 ioyous forms, and under her most cheering and inspiring influences." — N. Y. Tribime. 
 
 " There is more than one passage, too, in the volume, whose deep, and true, and richly 
 uttered pathos brings the heart into the throat with a spontaneous throb." — New York 
 Independent. 
 
 PEOPLE I HAVE MET; 
 
 OR, PICTURES OP SOCIETY AND PEOPLE OP MARK — DRAWN UNDER A THIN VEIL 
 
 OP FICTION. 
 
 BY N. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo. Third edition, cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 " This book embraces a great variety of personal and social sketches in the old world, 
 and concludes with some thrilling reminiscences of distinguished ladies — including the 
 belles of New York." — Buffalo Republic. 
 
 " These stories and sketches are very amusing. One needs not the open avowal of the 
 preface, or even the hint of the title-page, to teach him that Mr. Willis has drawn from 
 actual life. It would be impossible to feign anything so perfectly life-like." — Sartairi's 
 Magazine. 
 
 LIFE HERE AND THERE; 
 
 OR, SKETCHES OP SOCIETY AND ADVENTURES AT PAR-APART TIMES AND PLACES. 
 
 BY N. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 " And sketches they are, too. They are well worth perusing; for so spiritedly and so 
 definedly are they drawn, that the reader can fill them up at his own leisure, or enjoy 
 them just as they are." — New York Albion. 
 
 " The characters are all drawn from life, however, and several of them are portraits, 
 done with studied faithfulness, of celebrated women whom he had the opportunity to 
 know ; while the scenes of the different stories are minutely true to the manners of the 
 jountries and the style of society in which they are laid." — Merchant's Magazine. 
 
N. P. WILLIS' WORKS. 21 
 
 HURRY-GRAPHS ; 
 
 OB, SKETCHES FROM FRESH IMPRESSIONS OP SCENERY, CELEBRITIES, AND 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 BY JUT. P. WILZIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. (3d edition.) Price $1 25. 
 
 " This yolume is filled with illustrations of his admirable skill. * * * We might look 
 in vain for more just and felicitous portraitures, than those which are dashed off as 
 ' Hurry-graphs ' almost on every page of this living picture gallery." — 2F. Y. Tribune. 
 
 "As a light essayist and clever paragraphist, Willis has few superiors, and' these 
 ' Hurrv-graphs ' will be read with avidity by all." — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 PENOILLINGS BY THE WAY. 
 
 BT IT. P. WILLIS. 
 A new and revised edition. 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 " One of the freshest and most sparkling ever written by its popular author." — Phila- 
 delphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 " This work is too well known to need description. It contains graphic and spirited 
 descriptions of society and scenes in the Old World, and has probably obtained a popu- 
 larity second to no book of travels ever published in America." — Boston Journal. 
 
 " These graphic descriptions of foreign scenery, society, and manners, have never been 
 equalled." — Weekly Eclectic. 
 
 A SUMMER CRUISE IN THE MEDITERRA- 
 NEAN, 
 
 ON BOARD OP AN AMERICAN FRIGATE. 
 
 BY m P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol. 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 This volume describes, in a pleasant and glowing manner, a visit to one of the most 
 interesting portions of the globe — a region exceeding all others in the memorials of art, 
 Jn historical and poetical associations. 
 
 " To read this book, one enjoys almost the pleasures of an actual ramble with him."— 
 Poughkeepsie Telegraph. 
 
 " The public will give a hearty welcome to this beautiful volume, in which will be recog- 
 nized an old friend, greatly improved since last met. It was written by Willis when a 
 young man, and in his richest and most fascinating style." — Cincinnati Gazette. 
 
 \ 
 
28 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY CHAS. SCRIBXER. 
 
 FUN JOTTINGS; 
 
 OR, LAUGHS I HATE TAKEN A PEN TO. 
 BY 21. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 "As a cordial to the animal spirits when drooping with care or flagging with excess of 
 labor, this volume of ' Fun Jottings ' bears the palm." — ST. Y. Independent. 
 
 " The character of this book is sufficiently indicated by its title. It is not purely fancy 
 or fact, but a mixture of both. It bears throughout the stamp of the author's peculiar 
 genius." — Puritan Recorder. 
 
 " This book contains some inimitable sketches." — Boston Olive Branch. 
 
 A HEALTH TRIP TO THE TROPICS, ETC. 
 
 BY N. P. WILLIS. 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 This book contains Mr. Willis's recent travels to the tropics. 
 
 " Mr. Willis has exceeded himself in his descriptions of his trip to the delightful tro- 
 pical regions — a most delicious repose steals over you as you read. You cannot imagine 
 that he is an invalid, and if one yourself he soon makes you think that you are one no 
 longer. His pictures of the Bermuda Islands are perfect, and there are mingled through 
 them the most valuable facts, lessons and suggestions." — Albany Spectator. 
 
 " The facility with which Mr. Willis describes, enables him almost to persuade his 
 hearers that they are travelling with him — seeing with his eyes and hearing with his ears 
 — those who would like a trip to the tropics during one of the long cold evenings of the 
 approaching winter, may enjoy that luxury cheaply by taking passage in this volume." — 
 Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 LETTERS FROM IDLEWILD. 
 
 BY IT. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 " A simple weaving into language of the every-day circumstances of an invalid retira- 
 ment in the Highlands of the Hudson, written in letters to the Home Journal, and it was 
 aspected that they would owe their interest to being plainly truthful, and to picturing 
 exactly the life that formed itself around the new-comer to one particular portion of our 
 country — its climate, its conveniences, its accessibilities, and its moral and social atmo- 
 sphere. As it is a neighborhood to which the sick are often sent by the physicians of 
 New York, for the nearest mountain air, which is completely separated from the seaboard, 
 the author has thought it might add a utility to his book to give his invalid experience 
 with the rest. In this feature of it he has aimed to serve his fellow-sufferers."— Extract 
 from Preface. 
 
N. P. WILLIS' WORKS. 29 
 
 FAMOUS PERSONS AND PLACES. 
 
 BY JST. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 "The personal portrayings of distinguished contemporaries of which this volume is 
 mainly composed, will insure its readableness. It will have a value, from the same quality, 
 that will increase with time, and be, also, independent to a certain degree, of its literary 
 merits. Sketches of the men of mark of any period are eagerly devoured — more eagerly 
 as the subjects pass away and are beyond further seeing and describing — the public re- 
 quiring less that they should be ably done than that they should be true to the life. Cor- 
 rectness in such pencillings is more important than grace in the art. And this I claim to 
 have proved for these sketches." — Extract from, the Preface. 
 
 " This volume presents a more charming specimen of Willis's unique style than any of 
 his productions in prose." — N. Y. Tribtme. 
 
 "As a specimen of Willis's best style of writing, his freshness, grace, brilliancy and 
 geniality, we do not know where we can find in all his writings a book more worthy of 
 study, or one from the nature of its theme more likely to interest the general reader."— 
 T. S. Arthur's Gazette. 
 
 " The varied characters of this book, and its exquisitely finished and graphic descrip- 
 tions both of persons and places, must make it one of the greatest favorites of the 
 season." — N. Y. Express. 
 
 " Everybody loves to hear about great men and women whom they have never seen, 
 End about celebrated places which they have never visited. This book furnishes the best 
 substitute for this sort of gratification, in a series of most graphic delineations and des- 
 criptions." — Albany Argus. 
 
 THE RAO BAG. 
 
 BY JUT. P. WILLIS. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
 
 {Will be published in March, 1855.) 
 
 " This volume is a selection from the articles written for the ' Home Journal.' The 
 ehange in the taste of the times — literature being more served in small fragments than it 
 used to be, is one inducement to collect these brief compositions into a book ; but another 
 reason is the feeling of the author, that they deserve it as well as his other writings, in 
 being written with equal care and elaboration ; while the approbation which they have 
 met with, in the success of the periodical of which they were the leading feature, makes 
 it certain that they will be at least saleable. Such a collection, however, will have still 
 another value, containing as photographs of the passing events, celebrities and topics of 
 the time, and just that look and impress of them which were lost in the bubble-breaking 
 flow of the tide of periodical literature."— From the Preface. 
 
 N. P. WILXIS'S COH^JPIf: PROSE WOEKS, 11 vols., half calf. Price $20 00. 
 
 

 
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