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From The Sunday Magazine. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, THE FAMOUS PREACHER.

very best of our British species, as its | themselves of wholesome nutritious food name implies, when eaten raw causes a for the sake of a mere theory, yet it can very unpleasant amount of tingling of the not be overlooked that the continued and mouth and tongue. Far more important, continuing increase of the population will however, is it to remember that a fungus eventually demand a full development of may have a pleasant odor and taste, and the resources of the country. There canyet be most virulently poisonous. Mr. W. not be a doubt that the esculent species G. Smith was poisoned by eating less than of fungi will, in the future, occupy a most a quarter of an ounce of A. fertitis, P., important place in the dietary of the nation, which had anything but a disagreeable not simply because of their cheapness, but taste. Again A. muscarius, L. has no rather by reason of their nutritious qualiacridity, neither has A. phalloides, Fr., or ities and the large proportion of nitrogA. Mappa, Batsch; and whatever may be enous compounds they contain. the character of the two latter, the poisonous properties of the former are well known. It must be remembered that fungi may be irritant, narcotic, or narcotoirritant poisons, and while it is possible to recognize an irritant by the taste, a narcotic may be nearly tasteless. There is one way, and only one, by which edible fungi THIS man, who now saunters up to join can be discriminated from poisonous ones the assembly, is of a very different type with absolute certainty, and that is by a from the gentlemen of the court. His knowledge of the individual species. As brow is knit; at intervals he murmurs well might a code of rules be laid down some word to himself as if he wished not for the discrimination of wholesome from to forget it; something very like a proofpoisonous fruits or vegetables, as for fungi. sheet is peeping out of his pocket. PeoPeople do occasionally mistake aconite ple stare at him, half with curiosity, half roots for horseradish, or fool's-parsley for with wonder, as though they were surparsley proper; but we have no general prised to see him here. David Hume rules drawn up in this case, neither do has, in truth, not much time to spare from people become panic-stricken and eschew his history, but he cannot deny himself the whole race of condiments because of such an intellectual treat as listening to these unfortunate accidents. But if any Whitefield. In and out among the wellmisadventure occurs from eating fungi, dressed many there moves a crowd of the whole race are scouted and branded as people who wear neither silk nor velvet. the harbingers of death. In this country There is the artisan, with his wife and fungus-eating is reserved for the few; but children, who have come out here chiefly it by no means follows these few are ex- for the sake of the fresh, sweet country perimentalists, far from it; for the species air; there are the city clerk and his sweetthey eat have been known to be edible, heart doing a little flirting to while away and have been eaten, by the initiated, the time; there is the poor needle-woman, from time immemorial, in other lands if not whose pale face has such a wistful look, in this. Like other kinds of food, they that we fancy her heart must be beginning vary much in flavor, in the facility with dimly to guess that if she could grasp the which they can be digested, and in their meaning of the great preacher's words, it nutritious qualities. Certain excellent might possibly bring into her life even species cannot be too widely known, and more warmth and coloring than there is in every housewife should be able to dis- the dresses she stitches for the grand criminate them, especially as they have all ladies. Suddenly the murmur of voices well-marked characters. Amongst these which has been running through the vast may be mentioned Agaricus procerus, assembly is hushed. The duchesses and Scop.; A. gambosus, Fr.; A. nebularis, countesses incline their heads a quarter of Batsch; Lactarius deliciosus, Fr.; Copri- an inch forward; the fans of the actresses nus comatus, Fr.; Cantharellus cibarius, cease to flutter; the mass of the people Fr.; Hydnum repandum, L.; Boletus make a little rush all in the same direcedulis, Bul.; Lycoperdon giganteum, tion. Every eye is fixed on a man who is Batsch; and Fistulina hepatica, Fr. Oc- ascending slowly a green bank near at casionally we hear vegetarians say they hand. At first sight there is nothing very live upon some fabulously small sum,- -a remarkable in his appearance. His figure few pence per diem; and although very is tall and spare, his dress is homely; few people, indeed, would care to debar when he turns towards the audience we

From The Athenæum.

AN ANTIQUARY IN A DIFFICULTY. WHEN Dr. Buckland was dean of Westminster, the lately deceased Dr. Rimbault applied to him for permission to make extracts from the registers of the Abbey, in order to ascertain the dates of admis sion, and of the decease, of some of the eminent men who had been on the establishment at Westminster. The difficulty which presented itself to the dean's mind was, that it would be too great a tax upon his own time to wait while the extracts were made, and that he could not give up the keys of the muniment-room to any person. Still he desired to oblige in all cases of literary research, and therefore offered to take Dr. Rimbault into the room, and to leave him there, to be let out

see that he squints, and he has no especial
beauty of feature. But the moment he
begins to speak his face is forgotten in
his voice. How does it thrill with holy
passion as he tells of his dear Lord; how
does it ring with stern indignation against
sin, and yet how does it melt with tender-
ness over the sinner! It is so clear that
it is heard at the further end of the wide
assembly; and yet so sweet that music
is the only word that can give an idea of
its tones. His face, too, and his figure
have changed since we last looked at him.
Meaning has come into every movement
of his hand; each feature answers to the
theme that is upon his lips, as does the
lake to the lights and shadows in the sky
above; his form seems to have grown
majestic, and to be like that of the desert
preacher, or of him who cried against at any appointed time. The proposal was
Nineveh. When he speaks of heaven,
we almost believe that he has been there;
when he tells of the Saviour's love and
sufferings, it seems to us that he must have
walked with Peter and John at his side;
when he tells a story by way of illustra-
tion, as he often does, the description is
so vivid that we listen breathlessly, as
though we really saw the scene he paints
with our bodily eyes. For two hours the
tide of eloquence flows on unceasingly,
and still the listening crowd remains en-
thralled. Different signs of emotion ap-
pear among them. The daughters of the
people stand with clasped hands, looking
up at the preacher as though he were an
angel bringing them the good tidings which
are the especial birthright of the toil-worn
and weary; the actresses sob and faint;
the great ladies actually sit upright to lis-
ten. The sterner sex, too, are affected in
their own way. The hard faces of the
mechanics work with unwonted feeling;
the brow of Hume grows smooth; even
Chesterfield, who hitherto has stood like
a statue of one of his own ancestors, so
far forgets himself when the preacher, in
a lively parable, is describing a blind beg-
gar on the edge of a precipice, as to start
forward and murmur, "O save him, save
him." No wonder they are thus moved,
for the preacher himself sets them the
example. Sometimes his voice trembles
so much in his intense earnestness, that
he can hardly go on; sometimes he even
weeps. At length the sermon ends in a
grand wave of heaven-aspiring prayer;
then the crowd disperses, some to spend
the night at a masquerade or at the gam-
ing-table, some to criticise, some to forget,
some to keep the good seed silently in
their hearts.

particularly agreeable to Dr. Rimbault, as
he could then work without interruption.
Thinking that about three hours would
suffice, and as he dined at an early hour,
he appointed one o'clock. The dean was
not punctual, and the doctor worked on.
At three o'clock the latter felt the want of
his dinner, his extracts were finished, and
he wished only to be gone. "What could
have detained the dean?"
But no step
was to be heard. The evening service
soon began, and at length the last peal of
the organ had faded away, and all was
quiet. It then became evident that Dr.
Rimbault was forgotten; and how long
was this to last? Before daylight had
quite passed away, he had surveyed his
position, and found that he was in a trap
from which it was impossible to extricate
himself. He could neither scale the win-
dow nor make himself heard. He was
quite at the mercy of the dean's memory;
for he had not told any one where he was
going, because he expected to return home
within a few hours. "Would his disap-
pearance be advertised, and would the
dean see it, and when?" Dr. Rimbault
had none of the bodily fat which is said
to support life under long periods of fast-
ing, and the last was, therefore, an impor-
tant question with him. "When would
the muniment-room be next visited?"
That was, indeed, a remote contingency;
so that, like Ginevra in the chest, which
had closed over her with a spring lock,
nothing but his skeleton might then be
found. From these uncomfortable reflec-
tions Dr. Rimbault was released late at
night. He had drawn together some
parchments to recline upon, but not to
sleep, when at last a key was heard in the
door. The good dear had gone home to

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dinner, and had taken his siesta; after | dress and unexceptionable manners, whose which he commenced ruminating over the character and resources are such that he events of the day, and then at last thought would be anything but a desirable son-inof his prisoner! He returned to the Abbey at some inconvenience, and set him free with many apologies. Dr. Rimbault's ardor to be shut up in a munimentroom had then quite cooled.

From The Pall Mall Gazette. AMERICAN "WATERING-PLACE'

QUAINTANCE.

AC

law. By the word "resources" is meant, in this connection and in this country, his ability to work successfully in business or a profession rather than the present possession of property. This danger, however, is one which is cheerfully and rather recklessly encountered. American parents seem indifferent, as a general rule, to the ancestral antecedents of their sons' or their daughters' future companions, and they are singularly ready to run grave risks, to say the least, as to their personal PHILADELPHIA, Sept. 4. qualifications. There is little restriction, A STRIKING peculiarity of life at Cape therefore, in the formation of new acMay and Long Branch - and these places quaintances at the summer resorts, and may be taken as illustrations of nearly nearly any young gentleman of good manall American resorts except Newport- is ners appearing at one of them is taken up the general absence of even those slight and utilized for the temporary uses of the distinctions which mark the various circles dance and flirtation. In ninety-nine cases of society in the home cities of this coun- in a hundred he is laid aside again at the try. This to a stranger is one of the most end of the season with quite as little cerecurious phases of summer life in America, mony. This process is constantly going and it cannot be understood by the appli- on at all the seaside and mountain resorts. cation of any rules known to the society A stranger would hardly notice it at such of England or the Continent. It is made crowded centres as Cape May and Long possible by a single unwritten law of the Branch. He would find many secluded American social code, which is universally circles, too, among the throngs at these recognized, and the authority of which is places in which very "strict" ideas prevail. rarely, if ever questioned. An acquaint- But these are mere eddies in the genance formed at a watering-place involves eral current of American society. They no obligation of any kind after the end of represent no important class, and may be the season. A lady may dance with a new regarded as individuals only. At either of acquaintance every evening for six weeks these resorts the stranger sees the result; at Long Branch, and a slight passing bow he sees a great conglomerate social mass; in the street is all that the most stringent but he would be confused if he attempted to etiquette requies of her in New York or learn how people have become acquainted Philadelphia during the following winter. with each other who had never met beEven this is given more from that kind- fore; how the most intimate social relaness on which all courtesy is based than tions have come to exist among utter because it is demanded by etiquette; and strangers of the previous week. Let him a gentleman is expected, like the ball-go to the Delaware Water Gap, or Spring room acquaintance of a single evening in Lake, or Brynmaur, or any of the minor England, to await his recognition from resorts within equally easy reach of Philathe lady. This rule is so well established delphia, and he will understand the prochere that even such people as would like ess in a day. He will see a young man to disobey it and take advantage of an ac- arrive, for instance, at a small hotel in the quaintance formed at a summer resort are afternoon, well dressed and of good manentirely overruled, and seem to be per- ners. The new visitor will smoke a cigar, fectly harmless. Under this law of the offer another gentleman a light, exchange Medes and Persians — for such it has be- a few words, drop into a chat - play a - the most careful father or mother game of billiards, perhaps. There is sees no danger in the formation of "pro- dancing-music in the drawing-room during miscuous" acquaintances during the sum- the evening. There are two, perhaps mer, so far as mere social entanglements three, ladies for every gentleman. are concerned. The only serious danger are to be formed for a quadrille. The is of the kind which the otherwise harm- ladies' curiosity has already been piqued less "detrimental" introduces into En- as to who the young stranger is, and what glish society. A daughter may find herself he is like. His cigar-acquaintance apinterested in a young man of pleasing ad- proaches him: "Dance?-good.

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the way, what did you say your name was? | bility for the extension of hospitality; nor Oh, yes; I'll introduce you. Mr. can any number of valuable letters take Miss Where is papa? the English the place of the universal welcome - pro reader naturally asks; he is talking pol- tem. — extended to the stranger. itics or business with a friend of two hours' young Englishman of my acquaintance, standing on the piazza, and will probably whose face and manners are in themselves go to bed at ten o'clock without disturbing a passport, surprised me the other evening the rest of the family. And mamma? at a summer hotel where we were remainShe is sitting in a corner of the drawing- ing but a single day. We had arrived room chatting with another matron. It about two hours before, and were watching may or may not occur to her that she has a few ladies and gentlemen who were never before seen the gentleman her dancing and chatting in the drawing-room. daughter is dancing with. In any event, My companion left my side, addressed one the evening is supposed to count only for of the ladies pleasantly but respectfully, itself, and the partner of the dance is a seemed to enter into a conversation, and temporary convenience, having no neces- presently became her partner in a quadrille. sary connection with any future social re- When we afterwards met I asked him how lations. As to the young man himself, he he had managed to walk so quietly over becomes one of the party from that mo- the few impediments which even I had ment, and is depended upon by the young always found. "Oh," he answered, “I ladies as an attendant in the drawing-room, told her I was English and a great way on pleasure excursions, and at other times. from home, and had no acquaintances By similar easy processes the acquaint- here and she took me up in a matronly ances of families are brought about. A few words between the fathers or between the wives, a look and a smile between the daughters, and friendships warm enough for the purposes of summer society are formed at once. Personal congeniality is the only consideration among the ladies; politics and business are enough to interest the gentlemen in each other. All that we have thus seen in a small hotel goes on continually at Long Branch and Cape May, though the simple original processes are not so readily observed. The one thing that makes them possible, as I have said, is the universally recognized law, that "watering-place acquaintances " do not "count" after the season is over, except when both sides desire them to be perma

nent.

It is on account of this peculiar freedom of social intercourse, this temporary throwing off of restraints considered imperative at other seasons, that an American summer resort may be considered one of the pleasantest places in the world for the casual tourist. The way is even more open, if possible, to an English visitor than an American, the native ladies and gentlemen feeling a certain responsi

sort of way, as if she felt it her duty to make me as comfortable as possible. I often do that in America, you know, at a summer resort." This, of course, is an extreme case: it implies tact and a very respectful manner on the part of the gentleman; and it could only happen, among people that can be called members of good society here, at a small place where the dangers of imposition by adventurers could never occur to the mind, as at Cape May or Long Branch. While, however, the proceeding is more direct than an American gentleman could safely venture upon, and the lady's approval depends on a good-natured recognition of a stranger's position, it involves no social principle which is not recognized here in the summer season. Except among that "strict" few, representing no general class, to whom I have already referred, the ladies most likely to resent such a direct selfpresentation on the part of a polite foreign gentleman belong to a lower rather than an upper order of American society -- to that class who feel obliged to follow the "rules" of etiquette, without trusting themselves to make their own exceptions as circumstances may suggest. B. H.

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