NEBULÆ.
— The Donnelly-Washburne debate is conceded to be one of the vilest on record, so far as Congressional courtesies are popularly remembered. Should an antiquarian choose to rake among the muck of the "Congressional Globe," he might find fiercer, but none, we fancy, reeking more of the fish-stall and the gutter. It appropriately ends a series of personalities which have embellished the session. In its early days, we had, in rapid succession, the debate on "crocodile-tears," and "swill-milk policy;" the one in which a member called somebody's speech "a burlesque upon common sense," whereupon the somebody retorted that the honorable gentleman was a "minister of the gospel and brigadier-general;" then came the debate on "spirit-meters," so famously personal; then the contest between Messrs. Price and Julian; then Mr. Eldridge's sallies against Mr. Bingham's rhetoric; then the famous "Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" then Mr. Bingham's description of General Butler as "brought up in a bottle," and "fed with a silver spoon," which Mr. Evarts so effectively revived. Passing this array of personalism, we find the last few weeks outdoing all preceding. The Alta Vela discussion was one of the grossest even in Congressional annals, and the hard words "billingsgate," "blackguard," "robber," and "thief," were freely exchanged. Then came the crowning debate already referred to, which is unequalled in this species of literature. Let the "humor" stop there; anything else, however gross, would be an anti-climax. We hardly know what remedy to suggest, unless Congress will construct an index expurgatorius of "unparliamentary" words for the guidance of honorable gentlemen. But the trouble is, that honorable gentlemen aim to keep the Speaker perpetually deciding new points. Thus, not long ago Mr. Colfax informed a member that he must not apply the word "dog" to a fellow-member. But, within a week, he was forced to call another Representative to order for accusing his colleague of "raising a howl," meaning thereby, "making a speech." Yet, surely, a fair reasoning power ought to show the connection between the dog and the howl. So, too, in the great Logan-Marshall debate "flatulency" was ruled out of order as a descriptive epithet applied by one member to another. What does he, thereupon, do? He advises his honorable friend to use "carminative balsam" as a "vermifuge," and does so unchallenged; and so goes the record into the "Congressional Globe." With such devices, and, above all, such fine distinctions, we fear that an index exppurgatorius will not work; for members seem to dredge the dictionary afresh each day, in search of new rhetorical ornaments, and calling gentlemen to order is as perpetual as it is fruitless. In such a dilemma, we suggest one other motive for decency to honorable gentlemen—it is the effectiveness of their own speeches. There has not been an ounce of mud flung during the session without damaging the cause designed to be served. Take Mr. Donnelly's speech, for example. Freed from vulgarity, it would have been one of the keenest and most scathing pieces of sarcasm in Congressional literature. The allusions to the relations of General Grant and Mr. Washburne were terribly effective; but the general phraseology defiled and weakened all. Will not this lesson help the cause of decent speech?
— Chinese women are very strange creatures, or, at least, they must have been so two thousand years ago. How queer they look as we see them faithfully portrayed upon cups and saucers, with their little feet, their eyes like those of sleepy cats, their flat little noses, and their hair dragged back
