which the faithful representative of her Britannic Majesty, finding the Queen's English fail him for purposes of translation, can only describe in the half French phrase "going to see réunions." What this habit could have been we leave it for some antiquarian, learned in Oriental habits and modes of life, to determine. Such, O Columbian fair, were the women of Cathay two thousand years ago. Wonder, and commiserate your unhappy sisters; and learn now, at last, the folly of him—for, of course, such unwisdom was masculine—who said "There is nothing new under the sun; but the thing that hath been it shall be." There is, however, in this strange piece of writing one passage which shows some likeness between the modern and the ancient world. It shows that a certain sort of man that all women will recognize as familiar to them, was known at Yang-Chow before the time of the Roman Emperors. Our Chinese author, after repeating his monstrous maxim, worthy only of a barbarian, that "for man to be firm and woman to be flexible is what reason points out as the proper rule," says, "but in this world you constantly meet with a class of husbands who foolishly love and too much respect their wives, as if they were more honorable or superior to themselves; if anything occur they are afraid to go before them; and thus the woman becomes the roaring lioness of Ho-tung, or the female fowl that announces the morning. Such is by no means a happy omen in a family." Which is plainly Chinese, for,
Whistlin' girls an' crowin' hens
Never comes to no good en's.
— The second number of the "Illustrated Chicago News" has a picture, entitled "The Press Dinner to Mr. Dickens at Delmonico's, New York; see page 23." Its general fidelity is evident at a glance; but, on inspection, gleams of fancy are apparent. Fruits and flowers are there, cups and glasses, pièces montées—and yet a fertile imagination has brought forth fruits with a lavish generosity which would have beggared Delmonico, turned flags into curtains, temples into statues, and so on. Guests are there—yet here again the artist brain is present, embellishing, and inventing, filling in the sordid details of fact with the wealth of creative power, shaving beards and forcing them, and turning the whole scene, by the magic power of genius, into "something new and strange." Forms appear on the block that were not (to the bodily eye) visible at the dinner. Dickens stands addressing the audience, while, attent at his right, between him and Mr. Raymond (whose features are not to be mistaken), sits Thurlow Weed. To be sure, Mr. Weed was not there, and sent a letter of regret that he could not "take a seat at your festive board." But the soul of the artist disdained to accept the excuse, and Mr. Weed goes down to immortality as a present guest. Investigation shows the familiar features of other absent, but invited, distinguished guests, including Mayor Hoffman and his moustache. Mystified, we "see page 23," as directed, and there find, that "around the head table sat Henry J. Raymond, Manton Marble, Robert Bonner, James Parton, Mayor McMichael, Mayor Hoffman," etc., etc., of which six, four did not sit there, and three were not at the dinner at all. Who shall say, then, that American art lacks the element of imagination?
— Orators in Washington have shown a noteworthy proclivity, of late, for "dropping into poetry." Whenever the Fenian question comes up, verse is in order. During the impeachment trial, verse has been very much in order, as, for example, in Mr. Nelson's argument, wherein appeared —
A monster of such frightful mien,
and
A whip in every honest hand,
and
Quills upon the fretful porcupine,
and
From peak to peak the rattling crags among,
and
Bloody treason flourished o'er us,
and
Fair women and brave men,
not to speak of the
Tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
and three other long poetical passages, which we will not mention, because these and the others at length would fill this column. We usually get poetry in full by telegraph, even when we have to put up with an abstract of prose. No matter how un-
