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IN A BUNDLE OF GOSSIP.

As things now stand, (business and ther

the heat, and of workers-to forget it. We grow jealous of voyagers who are sitting in the mountain ranges of New Hampshire and Virginia; and still more envious of those happy fellows who are just now brushing off the dew in the Highlands of Scotland, or posting gloriously across the blue lifts of the Juras.

THE tropics have come upon us suddenly within a week past, and townsmen are swel-mometer,) the great aim of idlers is to kill tering in linen jackets under the shadows of brick walls and scaffolding. Ladies are growing rarer in the streets, and deserted husbands are at their counting-rooms, when, and as long as they choose. If any thing aggravates the heat and discomfort of such a city as New York in the summer, it is its unfinished look; the dust of broken mortar and bricks makes hard breathing material even in the chilliest of the weeks of January, but when every particle of the dusty debris sticks to your perspiring forehead, and your lungs, panting with exhaustion, make mortar of the drifting lime clouds, there is an annoyance in the thing that provokes a sad forgetfulness of Christian patience.

Boston is, we must say, better regulated in this matter; and you may pass whole blocks upon Washington-street, where the owners seem satisfied with low ceilings and scurvy roofs, and where the tenants drive their gains more for slow and wholesome profits, than for the extravagant returns of

sudden and hazardous ventures.

Yet even now fresh, bracing air is not wanting in the city; and the straggler who wanders to the Battery at evening may catch a whiff of ocean, and tune it with the echoes

of the Opera.

But the audiences, and the stragglers at our places of amusement, have undergone a transformation within a month; the old habituées and their hangers-on are gone, and you see new faces and new manners in the boxes. Sallow Southerners have idled into the town, and diamond-decked Spaniards are under the curling-tongs of half the barbers in the city.

Even at our hotels a new race of foplings

Our white-hatted Greeley is mocking us this hot weather with his Swiss poetry; who, pray, would have thought the tough old Reformer could creep into the spirit of the pines, as he does in this fragment of a letter,

"Wilder and narrower was the gorge, nearer and bleaker rose the mountains, steeper and more palpable became the ascent, keener and crisper grew the air, as the evening fell upon us pursuing our devious way. The valleys were not only insignificant but widely separated by tracts through which the road had with difficulty and at much expense been cut out of the mountain side without infringing on the impetuous torrent that tumbled and foamed by our side; and even where little valleys or glens still existed it was clear that Nature no longer responded with alacrity and abundance to the summons of human industry. The vine no longer clung to the steep declivities; the summer foliage of the lower valleys had given place to dark evergreens where shrubbery could still find foothold and sustenance. The snow no longer dodged timorously behind the peaks of distant mountains, showing itself only on their northern declivities, but stood out boldly, unblendingly on all sides, and seemed within a musket-shot of our path. From slight depressions in the brows of the overhangingcliffs, the streamlets leaped hundreds of feet in silvery recklessness, falling in feathery foam by our side."

Is not this cooling, and provoking to

sorely to throw down his pen and his scissors, and pack his portmanteau, and scud down the bay, and dream over the ocean, and-with knapsack and alpinstock-trudge up those heights where the spray leaks from melting glaciers, and showers whole valleys of green?

is ordering the mode; and there are plentygether? And does it not tempt a man of newly-come, brave boys in mustache, with short sticks, and chains, who rule the juleps and the wit of the bar. It would be amusing, if our Chronicle were the place for it, to draw a comparison between our summer and our winter drones; and to estimate if there were chance for any estimate at all-the respective value of the two classes.

It is questionable how much a man cools himself with imaginative breezes; and all

the fluttering leaves of a fancy valley cannot quiet the heated brain of a city summer. Whoever you are then, who are lying under the shade of trees, or listening to the babble of brooks-thank God for your happy lot; and in your thanksgiving spare a pity for the suffering mortals who are stifling-as we are stifling!

-As for news-it is smoking. The steamers have brought it hissing from their valves and what used to last a pair of weeks, now grows old in as many days.

France is all bustling with changes that are not yet come, and every wiseacre of the papers is full of extravagant prophecy. Italy is more disturbed than ever, and at Rome a malaria of purpose is coming on with the malaria of summer.

-As a straw-upon the disturbed tide of Romish affairs,—we throw out this little paragraph from a late London paper. The

writer dates from Rome:

"The past week has been eventful. It opened very lugubriously by the assassination of Signor Marco Evangelisti, on the evening of Sunday, the 15th inst., an event which has created an immense sensation in Rome. Signor Evangelisti held the office of chancellor of the Sacra Consulta Tribunal, and was high in favor with the papal government on account of the strong reactionary principles he entertained, and the unrelenting severity with which he persecuted the liberals. He was proceeding alone and on foot on the evening in question to pay a visit at the house of Signor Massani, at about a quarter to ten o'clock, and had entered a street named La Pedacchia, near the Piazza di San Marco, when a man of short stature, dressed in a frock-coat, white trowsers, and straw hat, passed him, and walked on until about a dozen paces in advance, when he suddenly turned round and ran furiously back at Signor Evangelisti, who, although a tall, powerful man, not more than forty years of age, could not resist the suddenness of the attack, but received a violent poignard wound in the abdomen, which brought him to the ground, his assailant falling over him in the struggle. Both however, rose again immediately, and the assassin took to flight pursued by Signor Evangelisti, who shouted al ladro! al ladro! without obtaining aid, until, finding himself growing faint, he stopped at the French barracks in the Jesuits' convent, where he was placed in a chair, while a carriage could be procured to convey him home. He was of opinion that his wound was only slight, as he felt scarcely any pain, but the surgeon presaged differently and more correctly.

After a few hours, dangerous symptoms manifested themselves, and he expired on Tuesday morning, without having been able to leave any clue that might lead to the detection of his murderer, who, besides being of low stature, held his head purposely down at the momeut of the onslaught, so that his features might not be seen. That the murder was not the work of a robber is very evident, but it is not clear whether it is to be attributed to a political motive or merely to the revenge of some one of the many victims of Signor Evangelisti's unsparing system of persecution. As chancellor of the Sacra Consulta, and secretary of the Council of Censure, his suggestions had proved fatal to hundreds of persons, and as superintendent of the prisons of St. Michael, where he resided, or at least had an office, he had opportunities of making the incarceration of the political prisoners as rigorous as possible. One of his last acts of cruelty recently aroused the indignation of all who heard of it. A respectable advocate named Apollonj, whose son had been eight or nine months in confinement at St Michael's prison, had frequently and earnestly requested Signor Evangelisti to grant him permission to visit him, and to bring the ladies of his family also, but the Chancellor could never be induced to grant the old man's petition, and the unhappy father finally had recourse to Monsignor Giannazzi, who was more merciful, and wrote a permission for young Apollonj to be visited by his father, mother, and sisters. They accordingly set out for the prison, where they were most brutally received by the police agents, and some time elapsed before the young man was brought out; but when be did make his appearance, handcuffed, emaciated, and covered with filth, his father was so agonized at the sight that he was seized with an apoplectic fit, and fell fainting to the ground, to the horror of his son and the consternation of his wife and daughters, who made the place resound with their cries for help. Signor Evangelisti, either casually passing or attracted to the spot by the noise, immediately ordered the prisoner to be replaced in confinement, and the old man to be dragged out into the street, observing unfeelingly to the ladies, We can't allow you folks to come and act your farces in these precincts!' and answering their remonstrances with threats of personal violence. Signor Apollonj was actually placed on a chair in the street, insensible, and his son was led back to prison under the impression that his father was dead."

The trial of the COUNT DE BOCARME, to which we have once or twice alluded, has at length been brought to a termination. The count has been condemned to death, and his wife acquitted. This result, partic

ularly so much as affected the countess, has excited surprise.

There seems to have been no doubt in the public mind of her collusion with the husband. The count is stated to have borne the judgment with firmness, and to have manifested great satisfaction at the acquittal of his wife.

The trial has occupied a very large share of public attention, even in the present disturbed state of European affairs; and its history will occupy a prominent place in the criminal annals of the world.

Among the celebrations of the Fourth of July, that at Washington, the present year, is richly worthy of notice.

DANIEL WEBSTER delivered an address at the laying of the corner stone of the new Capitol building. DANIEL WEBSTER speaks in a way to be listened to. And there are passages in this Fourth of July oration of his, which we hazard nothing in saying will

be read with wonder and admiration centuries hence.

In the course of his address he gave many interesting statistics, of which we quote a portion respecting public libraries. We also copy from the Express a more definite mention of the old libraries of the country.

"In the year 1793, there were, so far as we can now ascertain, only thirty-five public libraries in the whole country. The gate number of volumes which they contained was less than 74,000.

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"In the year 1851, there are in the United States, exclusive of those of the schools, 694 public libraries, with an aggregate of 2,291,632 volumes. If we include the libraries of the district schools-many of which are larger and more useful than half of those which were included in the estimate of 1793-there are now in the country upwards of 10,000 libraries, containing in all nearly 4,000,000 books. In respect to the number of these valuable institutions, we already take rank of all other nations. The following were the libraries in 1793 :State Library at Concord, N. H.

Union 66

Dublin,

Phillips Academy, Exeter,

Dartmouth College, Hanover,

Boston Library, Mass.,

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American Academy of Arts and Sciences, “
Mass. Historical Society,

The Old South Library (Prince's)

Harvard University,

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"If, as we have said, we include the libraries of the public schools-many of which are both larger and better chosen than the greater part of those of 1793-we have more than 10,000 libraries, with an aggregate of nearly 4,000,000 volumes.

London Punch, always exuberant in mirth, has the last week given (as we had anticipated) a fling at the new costume. We regret that we have not time to present here the illustrative cut which accompanies the pleasant jeu d'esprit; but the text matter we shall venture to extract :

ble difficulty that the natives of this old "It is quite easy to realize the consideracountry are like to have in estimating the rapid progress of ideas on all subjects among us, the Anglo-Saxons of the Western World. Mind travels with us on a rail car, or a highpressure river-boat. The snags and sawyers of prejudice, which render so dangerous the navigation of Time's almighty river, whose water-power has toppled over these giantgrowths of the world, without being able to detach them from the congenial mud from which they draw their nutriment, are dashed aside and run down in the headlong career of the United States mind,

"We laugh to scorn the dangers of popular effervescence. Our almighty-browed and cavernous-eyed statesmen sit, heroically, on the safety-valve, and the mighty ark of our vast Empire of the West moves on at a pressure on the square inch which would rend into shivers the rotten boiler-plates of your outworn states of the Old World.

"To use a phrase, which the refined manners of our ladies have banished from the drawing-room, and the saloon of the boarding-house, we go a-head. And our progress 1,000 is the progress of all-not of high and low, 66 1,000 for we have abolished the odious distinction 1.800-but of man, woman, and child, each in 2.000 or her several sphere.

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Salem Social Library, (afterw. Athenæum) “
Williams' College, (founded 1793,)

14.000

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1.000 "Our babies are preternaturally sharp, 3,000 and highly independent from the cradle. The high-souled American boy will not sub1,000 mit to be whipped at school. That punish

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ment is confined to negroes and the lower animals.

"But it is among our sex-among women -(for I am a woman. and my name is THEODOSIA EUDOXIA BANG, of Boston, U. S., Principal of the Homaopathic and Collegiate Thomsonian Institute for developing the female mind in that intellectual city)that the stranger may realize in the most convincing manner the progressional influence of the democratic institutions it is our privilege to live under.

"An American female-for I do not like

the term Lady, which suggests the outworn distinctions of feudalism-can travel alone from one end of the States to the other from the majestic waters of Niagara to the mystic banks of the Yellow stone, or the

rolling prairies of Texas. The American female delivers lectures-edits newspapers, and similar organs of opinion, which exert so mighty a leverage on the national mind of our great people-is privileged to become a martyr to her principles, and to utter her soul from the platform, by the side of the gifted Poe or the immortal Peabody. All this in these old countries is the peculiar privilege of man, as opposed to woman. The female is confined to the slavish duties of the house. In America the degrading cares of the household are comparatively unknown to our sex. The American wife resides in a boarding house, and, consigning the petty cares of daily life to the helps of the establishment, enjoys leisure for higher pursuits, and can follow her vast aspirations upwards, or in any other direction.

"We are emancipating ourselves, among other badges of the slavery of feudalism, from the inconvenient dress of the European female. With man's functions, we have asserted our right to his garb, and especially to that part of it which invests the lower extremities. With this great symbol, we have adopted others-the hat, the cigar, the paletot or round jacket. And it is generally calculated that the dress of the Emancipated American female is quite pretty,-as becoming in all points as it is manly and independent. I inclose a drawing made by my gifted fellow-citizen, Increasen Tarbox, of Boston, U. S., for the Free Woman's Banner, a periodical under my conduct, aided by several gifted women of acknowledged progressive opinions.

"I appeal to my sisters in the Old World, with confidence, for their sympathy and their countenance in the struggle in which we are engaged, and which will soon be found among them also. For I feel that I have a mission across the broad Atlantic, and the steamers are now running at reduced fares. I hope to rear the standard of Female Emancipation on the roof of the Crystal Palace in London Hyde Park. Empty wit may sneer at its form, which is bifurcate.

And why not? Mahomet warred under the petticoat of his wife Kadiga. The American female Emancipist marches on her holy war under the distinguishing garments of her husband. In the compartment devoted to the United States in your Exposition my sisters of the old country may see this banner by the side of a uniform of female freedom,-such as my drawing represents,—the garb of martyrdom for a month-the trappings of triumph for all ages of the future!

THEODOSIA E. BANG, M. A.,

M.C.P., P.A.K., K.L.M., &c., of Boston, U. S.

And now, having filled up our allotted pages before we were aware, we will close our week's mélange with a new ode, of the new Laureate-TENNYSON :—

VICTORIA.

REVERED Victoria, you that hold
A nobler office upon earth

Than arms, or power of brain, or birth Could give the warrior kings of old,

I thank you that your royal grace
To one of less desert allows
This laurel greener from the brows
Of him that uttereth nothing base:

And should your greatness, and the care
That yokes with empire, yield you time
To make demand of modern rhyme,
If aught of ancient worth be there,

Take, madam, this poor book of song;

For though the faults were thick as dust In vacant chambers, I could trust Your sweetness. May you rule as long,

And leave us rulers of your blood
As noble till the latest day!
May children of our children say,
"She wrought her people lasting good;

"Her court was pure; her life serene;

God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed In her as mother, wife, and queen.

"She brought vast design to pass,
When Europe and our scatter'd ends
Of our fierce world where mixt as friends
And brethren in her halls of glass;

"And statesmen at her council met

Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom broader yet,

"By shaping some august decree

Which kept her throne unshaken still, Broad-based upon her people's will, And compassed by the inviolate sea." That is poetry!-it is more; it is Miltonian!

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