they may not be very excellent poets. "Edwin of Deira" is a broad, simple theme, treated with great skill and elaboration and delicate feeling. It is a succession of beautiful pictures of a continuous interest, which rises to an unexpected height toward the end. It is still almost too rich. To read it is almost to lunch on honey. But it draws you on with an interest deeper than curiosity or surprisean interest which is rooted in its exquisite human feeling and its tender portraiture of love. Bertha may well be twin to "the lily maid of Astolot." And as every one naturally wishes to see the poem of the hour, "Edwin of Deira" will be as timely as it will be beautiful to the great host of our friends. WHI Our Foreign Burran. have done with bluster? Why not put ourselves to serious, silent work, and wait for plaudits from without? As we said, Europe has its growth and its engrossing topics apart from the great American problem. Here, in Paris, we have been celebrating the opening of a new thoroughfare-greater, and destined to be more splendid even than the Rue Rivoli. A boulevard of lavish breadth and promised lavishment of architecture has like magic been stretched through the city from the temple of the Madelaine to the line of the fortifications. The rich houses of the Rue Rumford and a host of narrow, tortuous alleys have been brushed away for its path. The Park Monceaux-another and richer "Garden of the Tuileries"-flanks it, and great pavilions, with crimson and golden hangings, and an Imperial fête have marked its inauguration. The boulevard has been so recently opened that it is not of course as yet built up; but the stagings of all the houses and churches in process of erection were completely garlanded with verdure and flowers; soldiers lined the way in their gayest attire, and a fairy pavilion of Moorish richness received the Emperor and his suite near to the triumphal arch which crowned the entrance to the Park Monceaux. Here the Préfect of the Seine discoursed upon the difficulties and the triumphs of the great undertaking; while the Em HILE the American mind is alive only to one great subject it seems a folly to draw attention to others. And yet, Europe too has its life. Millions here, who know little of Davis or of Lincoln, are toiling, hoping, wearying through the meshes of a perplexed, and noisy, and brilliant, and disturbed existence that may end to-morrow. Yonder, over the river (dating as we did whilom from the Quai Voltaire), they are building up new boudoirs within the old hulk of the Tuileries for the disportment of an imperial family; the new Boulevards are open-peror replied in a good municipal speech, without ing in all directions, straight, broad, splendid with every new adornment of architectural device. The click of the stone-mason's hammer comes to our ear like the unwearied song of locusts. The broad, gay placards that tell of revival of Molière or Corneille flame upon the unfinished houses. The Seine gurgles, yellow and muddy, past the ancient bridges, past the sweltering barges, past the piled up masses of bathing-houses, past the shadows of the gorgeous river palaces, past the quiet lines of stately poplars that stand on the banks toward St. Cloud, and rolls toward the sea as it rolled before our civil war was known. We do not write this merely for prelude, but to say, in such roundabout manner as befits our gossip, that America is not the world; that our republicans, struggling in their fashion, are, after all, only so many millions out of God's hundreds of millions; that all of hope, and strength, and endeavor is not centred within the "States" we call "United;" and that the great clock which marks the centuries of the world's life does not stop, even if the "second" hand plays false and vibrates with some abnormal eccentricity. There is this good lesson which our strife may teach us that we are not atop of all the world; that we have not solved successfully all the riddles which belong to government and progress; that we must take our share of failures, and fire, and blood in the weary struggle we are making with other companies of nations toward the fulfillment of human destiny. We have made a grand push for a young family, and our success has intoxicated and distempered us. We have bragged till other people were weary of our bragging. We have boasted of our cheap bread and schools, as if cheap bread and schools were every thing; not remembering that bread only gave muscular vigor, and schools only mental vigor, for as much of deviltry as of godliness. The developments of our civilization which are reported over seas, in the few months last past, and the dissertations upon them, are not such as to make an American feel proud of his country. Why deny it? Why not allusion to any matters foreign to the embellishments and prosperity of the city of Paris. Besides this gala day the capital has enjoyed its reception of the King of Sweden (accompanied by his stalwart body-guard in a costume of the time of Louis XV.) and the attendant brilliant review of fifty thousand men upon the Champs de Mars. The fête of the 15th of August has succeeded with its whirl of lampions, its games, its crowds, and its fairy festoons of parti-colored lights stretching from the Place de la Concorde to the Arc de l'Etoile. French talk has turned upon the Imperial health and the sojourn at Vichy; upon the manoeuvres of the great camp at Chalons; upon the Romish quarrel of the commanding (French) General Goyon with the Papish (Belgic) Minister of War, and upon the renewed coolness which has grown up between the Austrian and French courts. While the grain crop of the Empire is reported smaller than an average, it is understood that large purchases have been made upon Government account in Amèrica, and the Emperor has taken a late public occasion to assure the people that, in the event of comparative scarcity, his ministers have taken ample means to insure the poor against any inordinate increase in the price of bread. He also flatters Paris with the assurance that, since the negotiation of the late commercial treaty with England, the exportation of articles of Paris manufacture has nearly doubled. Cordial relations with the Ricasoli government of Turin are still entertained; while it is hinted that latterly commissioners of Hungary have been privately admitted to an Imperial audience. The manufacturers and commercial men of France are beginning only now to feel the full weight of the American war, and are loud and earnest in their declarations against the tariff of the Union. It affronts (they say) and destroys a sympathy which else we might give them. It is understood that our Minister to Brazil (General Webb) has had the honor of a private interview with Napoleon, and that since the affair of Manassas one or two Commissioners of the Southern States have been hon ored with the same attention; but it does not appear that his Imperial Majesty was specially communicative on either occasion of his intentions or of his sympathies. It is clear, however, that he watches the progress of events with the utmost eagerness, and exhausts all the sources of information bearing upon it within his reach. We hear nothing from Venetia, because they have grown there into the habit of low speech; but the calm and the silence, be they ever so long, do not mean, and never can mean, that the German and Italian currents of hope and endeavor have become mixed and are one. The Lagoon will never lift its waters to the level of the Julian Alps; and the shaggy Julian Alps will never come down to the The naval preparations are going on with their usual activity, and no less than ten or twelve iron-level of the Lagoon. clad vessels are reported as fit for sea; while as many more are in process of construction. The building of ordinary wooden vessels for war purposes is discarded; and it is matter of amazement to the naval constructors of France that America should just now be increasing her navy in such an enormous ratio with what the authorities here are reckoning only so much tinder-wood. They feel and express the assurance that a ship like La Gloire, with rifled guns and shells charged with molten metal, would prove more than a match for any ten of the old style wooden war-ships. Either the British and French authorities are utterly befogged, and expending millions in development of a theory which is wholly untenable, or else the new constructions of the United States navy, in event of any conflict with a foreign power, would prove worthless. The contractors, however, are probably doing well. Italian affairs remain comparatively quiet. We wait patiently the death of the Pope, as the only event which can give a new phase to the complicity of Roman politics. Every day some rumor of a French evacuation makes the quidnuncs gape with wonderment; and every succeeding day the rumor is belied by an announcement of the continued tranquil status of the eternal city. The difficulties of the Neapolitan insurrections are real and threatening. The old Italian jealousy of Piedmont has its share in fomenting them; the unthrift and turbulence of the Neapolitan character has perhaps a larger share in the same direction; and most provocative of all is the money and the art of the exiled Bourbon family, which finds a secret ally in the Church and all its most bigoted dependents. A new complication, moreover, of the Southern difficulties has arisen from the fact that certain Sardinian statesmen (Massimo d'Azeglio among them) have seriously and publicly questioned the right of Victor Emanuel to maintain his authority in the Sicilian kingdom, if the inhabitants persist in showing a disinclination to his rule. Our principle, say such statists, is that the cheerful and voluntary consent of a people is an essential condition of our right to govern them and make them part of our great Italian nation. If they resent our authority, struggle against its exercise, and make their antipathy rebellion, what we have to do is to withdraw and permit them to determine for themselves. Of course this view of the matter supposes that their vote of allegiance to the King Victor Emanuel was an unfair one, or that they have outlived their wishes of that date. Austria still stands nervously poised upon the point of dissolution. Her difficulties grow so great, and assail her from such opposite quarters, that she seems to stand erect only by the contrariety of her assailants. Hungary does not yield, and only does not fight. Styria is querulous, but does not rebel. Even Dalmatia, in the inquiry after traditionary rights, has her assertions of integrity to make, and does not fear to propound them to the Councilors of the Empire. The new Sultan is making good, thus far, his promise of reforms; but they are reforms which, however much they may count for Government energy, and economy, and system, count very little toward the Christianizing of the great empire of the Prophet. It is a new brandishing of the cimeter of the Levant in the face of the West-a stalwart declaration that all vigor has not yet gone out from the followers of Mohammed. Far as Bagdad the energy of the new master has reached already; dishonest officials have been cast out by the score; the trumpery jewels of three reigns are in the markets; the golden ewers are melted down; honesty has no longer its price, and "God is great," but "Mohamhed is his prophet." Russia is puzzled with Poland: wanting to be gracious, but yet fearful of issues. The serf question (just now coming into its most trying phase) is on its hands, and the new wars upon the borders of the Caspian. Alexander is strong by his private character, strong by reason of his amiable intentions, but he has that perverse nationality of Poland (which will not die, though trampled down never so many times) to contend with, and the ill-concealed animosity of a great host of his nobles, who do not share in his policy of emancipation. So it happens that Russia, by reason of its own home struggles, is just now written out of all the moves which strategy is devising upon the chess-board of Europe. Prussia, though bristling with the best-appointed army (outside of France) in Europe, and though the Holstein difficulty is not solved against all chance of recurrence, may be almost written down in the same category. The Becker attempt upon the King's life has alone caused prominent mention of the new monarch. And young, heated Germany (of which Becker was a somewhat exalted type) is inditing ever-fresh poems to that eidolon of Germanic unity, which is always coquetting with its vision and always eluding its grasp. Great Britain has had her successive sensationsover the American news-over the "iron-armor" debate-over the Northumberland Street tragedyover the naming of Sir Robert Peel to the Chief-Secretaryship of Ireland-over the last hours of Parliament, and the Goodwood races; and now, in sober mood, is following Lord Herbert, the late War-Secretary, to his tomb; and to-morrow will be away to the moors and the grouse of Scotland. Lord Herbert, better known as Sidney Herbert, is deserving of more than this careless mention. He was an elegant and worthy scion of the British peerage. High in birth (being son of the Earl of Pembroke), he was rich, generous, cultivated, industrious; and gave promise, if life had been spared him, to rank second to none in influence in the British Parliament. He was buried at Wilton, near to Salisbury, where he lived, and where, some years since, he built at his own cost an exquisite parish church, at an expense of £70,000, being altogether the richest and most artistic reproduction of the Lombard school of architecture to be found in England. Near to its marvelous cloister he lies now, and the bells that swing on its campanile are heard as far as the ancient house of Pembroke, where Sir Philip Sidney wrote his "Arcadia." And (to be prosaic) at this town of Wilton, where the "Arcadia" was written, which nobody reads, they make now the carpets which every body buys. Editor's Drawer. War has its humors, as we shall presently see. But war is no joke. It is worse for wit than the dyspepsia: it may be truly said of the wittiest man that his jests die when he can not digest; and the explosions of gunpowder are rarely followed by those of laughter, though there is not a letter of difference between man's laughter and manslaughter. THE other day a very dull Dominie was taking up too much of the attention of the company at dinner with talking of himself and his ailments, of OTHING new under the sun" was the sen- which he had more than a dozen in his own imag sephus Moliter, or, as he is familiarly called, Joseph the Miller, and vulgarly Joe Miller, it has been said that no new joke has been made, no smart thing said. Indeed, the sayings of this Joseph are believed by many profound antiquarians to embrace the wit of all his humorous predecessors gathered into one comic volume and tacked to his name. It was all his grist that came to the mill of this miller, and he takes the toll of all the tales that are told of him as well as by him. So it is with modern story-tellers: they repeat themselves and their ancestors-disinterring the venerable remains of the Joe Millers that have been buried so long as to be forgotten by all the world and the rest of mankind, and bringing them out at a dinner-table as the old dining Egyptians had a skeleton shown them at the table, to remind them that, eat as much as they would, they would only come to that at last. So they laughed over the bones of their forefathers. A short time since we were greatly amused by the rule which Mr. Sparrowgrass told us the Home Guard of Yonkers had adopted-"this Guard is not to leave Yonkers except in case of invasion." We thought this very funny in Mr. Sparrowgrass. He is a wit of the first water; and there was something so very ludicrous in the idea of a Home Guard going out of town when the enemy came in that we all laughed heartily, and said, "Long live Sparrowgrass! all flesh is grass, but Sparrowgrass is fish, flesh, fowl, and every thing else that is good to take." But the grass withereth, and so the wit of Mr. Sparrowgrass is to perish in the grave of Josephus the Miller. For in his day, and perhaps before his day, the great William Pitt, who seldom said a witty thing, but many wise ones, was Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. He presided at a public meeting held in Dover, during the war, for the purpose of raising a volunteer corps, when the secretary, in drawing up the conditions on which they were be to embodied, said to the chairman, "I suppose, Sir, that I am to insert the usual clause not to serve out of the country." "Certainly, certainly," smiled Pitt, "except in case of invasion!" So the Yonkers regulation was borrowed from the British service; and if any body is disposed to doubt the valor of the Home Guard, let him remember that the suggestion of leaving when the enemy enters has the highest possible authority in the words of the great Pitt! THE Drawer has long been the reservoir for the streams of good-humor that flow in from all parts of this great country. In these times of war, when there is less fun than fighting, the Drawer is sought. for to enliven the Home Guard, and help in the good work of keeping off the enemy that comes in the shape of "blue devils." What wit has to do with health and happiness it is easy to know by trying it on, not very easy to define in an essay. turning to Dr. Parker-the Physician, not the Reverend-he said, "I never can go out of doors without catching cold in my head." "No wonder," replied the Doctor, "you always go out without any thing in it!" A CORRESPONDENT of the Drawer writes: "In Ashtabula, Ohio, the village paper reports a festival in honor of a company returned from the wars. The Zoo Zoos were a squad of Zouaves home on furlough from the Seventh Regiment. It is not quite clear what the meaning of the last sentence is, but no doubt the editor's intention was good. The extract ought to have space in the Drawer, as a specimen of what can be furnished by Ohio: "The festival for raising funds for the Ladies' Aid Society, to liquidate a burdensome debt, held at Smith's Hall, on Tuesday evening, was, we believe, a success, both pecuniarily and in the pleasures of the entertainment. The band gave some of their most touching strains; the ladies' smiles were prolific without strain; the Zoo Zoos went much interest; and the strawberries and cream, as they through their evolutions with military precision, eliciting went home to the seat of palatial enjoyment, opening the avenues to the intellect, and radicating every index of the soul, scattered to the winds all that refined and transcendental nonsense about the inconsistency of animal pleasures with a high state of intellectual elegance and ethereal purity.'" FROM Joliet, Illinois, a contributor sends the following incident, which, he says, occurred in that city a short time since: "The Twentieth Illinois Regiment was stationed near our city for several weeks. Captain B, a real good fellow and Sheriff of Kankakee County, became impressed with the idea that he was unpopular with his company, which occasioned him to take a glass or two too much, and to express, in pretty strong language, the many troubles and grievances with which he had been afflicted. A good deacon of our place induced him to come into his store, and endeavored to persuade him that his suspicions in regard to his unpopularity were unfounded, and that he should bear his troubles like a man. The Captain drew himself up, and said, "Deacon, you are a good deal of a Bible man, and probably are acquainted with old Job. Now, I don't say but what he had a pretty hard time, and that they spread the boils on him mighty thick; but still you see he never commanded a company of Illinois volunteers." To judge from the letters that find their way into the newspapers occasionally, we are disposed to believe the Illinois Captain's experience is not peculiar. FROM Missouri a good-natured correspondent writes: "I am sure you will be gratified to know that, amidst the gloom surrounding us in this land of neighborhood strife, many an hour, otherwise con "Connected with the difficulties in this State an incident has occurred too good to be lost. Our town which, twelve months ago, after rising to the dignity of a railroad terminus, boasted a happy and prosperous population of twelve hundred souls, can claim at this time scarcely half that number. Goldsmith's ideal of a deserted village with us has become a realization. secrated to sadness, has been enlivened by the un- | Vermont. His humor was always agreeable, and flagging humors of your Drawer-one of the few his wit to the point. A few years since I had the institutions of our country seemingly unaffected by pleasure of passing a few days with his son, a Presour national troubles. byterian clergyman, then settled in the eastern part of New York. During my visit at his house I was struck with many things in his character which forcibly reminded me of his father. In fact, to one who had been familiar with the Governor, it was evident that the minister was a chip of the old block. While settled in K- he had in his church a deacon who, though rich, was so parsimonious that some even called him mean. During a protracted meeting in the neighborhood of the deacon's house, Mr. Mattocks told him, if it would be convenient, he, with three brother clergymen, would dine with him next day. Deacon B- - gave a grunt of assent; and during the remainder of the day, instead of listening to the sublime truths falling from the lips of his worthy pastor, he seemed lost in calculating the exact cost of a dinner for four hungry clergymen. "Among those who fled hence to a land of greater security beyond the 'Father of Waters,' was an old and highly esteemed family by the name of Hwhose chief had occupied among us, for the long period of sixteen years, the office of County Clerk. "Mr. H, at the time he left, was the owner of several slaves, among whom was one of venerable age rejoicing in the name of ' Aunt Katie.' "Now Aunt Katie has many prominent charac- "Next day the ministers repaired to the house of teristics. She is benevolent and pious, and teaches the worthy deacon. When seated at the table all many lessons of propriety to the young Africans,' seemed struck with the coarse and scanty provisions. among whom she is looked upon as an example of a The deacon was himself at once made painfully very high order. She is devoted to her master and aware of the insufficiency of the means to accommistress, by whom she has been tendered her free-plish the ends intended, and endeavored to apologize, dom, which she has declined to accept. Her master by saying he was sorry he could offer them nothing has been gone from here several weeks, and fre- better, but still this was more and better than we quently sends Aunt Katie an expression of his desire deserve. that she should favor him with her presence in Illinois. But she persistently refuses to go, as there are, she says, too many 'obolitionists' there. She has now sent her master the following as her ultimatum: She will go whenever he executes a bond guaranteeing that the 'obolitionists shall not steal her when she gets there.' Well knowing Mr. H- -'s accommodating disposition, we feel satisfied that the condition will be complied with, and Aunt Katie made happy once more." "WE have in this county an old German who, in the days of militia trainings, commanded the 'Cornstalk Rangers.' On review-day he was drilling his men near a creek, and had marched them in line nearly to the bank of the stream. In his excitement he forgot the proper command, and called out, 'Wo-o-oh! shtop!'" "Yes, Deacon B,' said Mr. Mattocks; 'better, far better than we deserve from the Lord; yet by no means what we ought to expect from you.' "The old man took the rebuke in a Christian spirit, and ever after ministers fared well with Deacon B-." WE have pleasure in giving the following letter, just as it comes to our hands, though it was a long time on the way: "MONTEVIDEO, URAGUAY, S. A., "May 26, 1861. "MR. EDITOR,-While walking my solitary watch I found one of your Magazines, and warmed myself with the spicy contents of its Drawer. Please accept two amusing incidents which happened on board this Uncle Sam's ship.' point. "One evening, when the shores of Columbia' were growing dim, Mr. Cronin was at his post' before the cabindoor. His new uniform and glittering bayonet appeared to please him, and, together with the fine weather, Mr. SuddenCronin was delighted with his first night at sea. ly Mr. Cronin was aroused from his pleasant reflections by the sonorous voice of the lieutenant of the watch, who cried, "Among our marine guard is a high private from the Emerald Isle by the name of Pat Cronin. Mr. Cronin entered the service out of pure love of glory, mixed, I must confess, with a few romantic ideas of mountain waves and bright blue water.' Mr. Cronin wishes every one to un"AN amusing incident recently occurred at a the-derstand that his father was a sojer before him.' To the atre in a neighboring city, which illustrated the depreciation of Western Virginia currency better than the Detectors. A company of volunteers from our town, on their way to the seat of war, stopped in the city of P to be equipped, and some of the boys spent the evening at the theatre. The heroine of the play is desperately in love with a poor young gentleman, but her wealthy father is violently opposed to the match. In the last act, however, the 'cruel parient' relents, gives his consent to the marriage, and presents his daughter with a large sum of money. The scene was highly exciting, and the audience was breathlessly silent, when, just as the old gentleman hands his daughters the roll of notes, one of the soldiers (who had a V which he couldn't pass) exclaimed: 'Look'ee here, old fellow, if that's Wheeling money it ain't worth a cent!'" A FRIEND in New Jersey revives some recollections of a Vermont Governor's son: "Orderly!' "Sur-r-r-r,' answers Mr. Cronin, dropping into the first position of a soldier, and making an exaggerated military salute. hermaphrodite brig is in sight, three points off our lee"LIEUTENANT. Orderly, inform the Captain that a bow, bearing down.' "Yis, Sur-r-r,' said Mr. Cronin, with another salute, and then vanished into the cabin. "Oh, Captain!' says Cronin. "Well, what do you want, you rascal, coming into my cabin in this style? "But Captain, Sur-r-r, the gintleman what has charge of the sails says, yer honor, ther's a mortyfied brig three "A recent number of Harper contained in its pints on top the lee-bow, Sur-r-r, and it's coming down, Drawer (where all its best things are put) an amusing incident in the life of Governor Mattocks, of too, Sur-r-r.' "SCENE ONE MORNING.-Mr. Cronin, walking his accus tomed place before the cabin-door (Mr. Cronin has changed "Sur-r-r,' says Cronin, with a salute. "I don't know,' says Cronin, on the honor of a sojer, Sur-r-r. I does my duty, and nary a person what has no right comes near the time-piece, Sur-r-r.' "Well,' said the master, all I've got to say is, that it's very strange that clock has lost fifteen minutes in two hours.' "Indeed,' says Cronin, I don't know.' "Orderly, some person must have been meddling with it.' "Well, Sur-r-r,' said Mr. Cronin, raising his hat and scratching his red head-'I think, Sur-r-r, the clock must have stopped and gone ahead agin, Sur-r-r.'" with the writer, with a party of gentlemen, was riding A BALTIMORE Correspondent writes to the Drawer: "The anecdote of Lawyer Martin, of Maryland, has been given in a book about Aaron Burr; but it is told differently, and I think I have the correct version from a lady who visited at his house, and was intimate with his nieces. It appears that he was very fond of music, but could not distinguish one tune from another. Having made himself very un-right hand violently down on his left. Some twelve popular by his defense of Burr, a crowd surrounded his house, with a band of music, playing the Rogue's March. The old gentleman took it as a compliment, walked to the front, and thanked them politely for their music. Not expecting such a reception, the mob stared and moved on; and his family, who were much terrified, gave him a hint to slip away from the door. up "He was in the habit of reading the newspapers on his way home of an afternoon, often becoming so absorbed that he would go past his own door; then he would look and say, Bless me, I have passed the house!' and, resuming his reading, would perhaps go as far on the other side, to the extreme amusement of the juveniles of the neighborhood, who reported that he once stumbled against a cow, took off his hat, and bowing, said, 'I beg your pardon, Madam!' without discovering his mistake. "THE recent panic in this city," says the same writer, "reminded me of a story I have heard about some ladies who had a brother in the Battle of Bladensburg. They lived near enough to the field to hear the artillery, and at every report one of them would say, 'Poor Richard is gone now!' or, 'There! I expect Dick is certainly killed this time!' This was continued till poor Richard was mourned over many times; and night came down with a storm of wind and rain, which blew down the kitchen chimney, and they were unprotected, in a lonely house, without any means of closing the wide aperture. To add to their distress, they fancied they heard the howling of wild beasts in the woods. There was a report afloat of some having escaped from a menagerie in the neighborhood. At last, in the midst of their terror, the elder sister exclaimed, 'Well, we shall live till we die, kill us who dares! At this wise maxim the others laughed, and they took courage to go to bed and wait the issue of events. I am glad to say they were left unmolested, and Richard returned home alive and well." WE are greatly indebted to the excellent correspondent who sends us the three following stories: An Indian's tenacity of memory is often remarked. Here is a wonderful instance: Some time since, years before, accidentally, in St. Louis, he had passed Mr. S's Auction Rooms, and heard him crying as repeated. From that casual notice he remembered Mr. S's face, so far removed in time and place. In a neighborhood near Cincinnati some Irish laborers were cutting a new road toward Walnut Hills that was a greatly-desired improvement; and we were impatient for it to be done so anxious, that, before it was even safe to pass it, some adventurous travelers, at considerable risk, drove over it. One afternoon I risked it, anxious to show a friend, whom I was driving out, the improvement. In the worst part one of the laborers was wheeling earth. As a passing, pleasant remark, I said, “Halloa, Pat! when are you going to have this elegant road done?" "Arrah!" said he, "how did you know my name was Pat?" "I did not know; I only guessed it!" "By me soul, it's yerself that's good at guessing; for, faith! that same is me name. And since ye are so good at guessing, ye may jist guess when the road 'll be done!" I drove rapidly on. I had read just such an answer before, but this was the first time I had heard it. THE ignorance of American Geography, manifested by even intelligent and educated people in Europe, has often been the subject of remark with us. Mr. W—, a resident of Baltimore, was called upon some time since by a gentleman, bringing a letter of introduction from an intimate European friend, who was a very intelligent and wealthy banker in the city of H, who prided himself on his knowledge of America, and who was received as the accredited authority on American affairs. Mr. V whom he wished thus to introduce, was seeking to invest a portion of his capital in this country. The letter of introduction stating this fact bespoke for Mr. V- Mr. W's advice and co-operation in judicious investments. Stating the banker's knowledge of Mr. W's qualifications, it asked his friendly offices, and requested Mr. W to devote his afternoons to Mr. V-, to drive him round in his carriage, and show him the most desirable locations near Baltimor, Milwalkie, and the other towns in that vicinity. |