has hitherto insisted that the abolitionists of the North brought on this war, said last night, ’If England continues to countenance the institution, I hope our government will put arms in the hands of the slaves, and that slavery will now be the destruction of the whole South, or of the rebels in the South.’  He further said, ’The slave-holder has, by the tacit consent and aid of England, brought on the most unjustifiable, iniquitous and barbarous war ever known in the history of the world.’

Too far and too fast—­it is not Abolition, or the good of the black, but Emancipation, or the benefit of the white man, which is really progressing so rapidly with the American people.  But whatever causes of agitation are at work, whether on limited or general principles of philanthropy and political economy, one thing is at least certain—­the day of the triumph of free labor is dawning, while the cause of progress

    ‘Careers with thunder speed along!’

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It is almost a wonder that the late offer of the king of Siam to stock this land with elephants was not jumped at, when one remembers the American national fondness for the animal, and how copiously our popular orators and poets allude to a sight of the monster.  Among the latest elephantine tales which we have encountered is the following, from our New Haven correspondent:—­

Dr. H., of this pleasant city of Elms, has been noted for many years for always driving the gentlest and most sober, but at the same time the most fearfully ‘homely’ of horses.  His steeds will always stand wherever he pleases to leave them, but they have rather a venerable and woful aspect, that renders them anything but pleasant objects to the casual observer.  A few years ago there came a caravan to town, and several horses were badly frightened by the elephants, so that quite a number of accidents took place.  A day or two after, old Dr. Knight met Dr. H., and speaking of the accidents, Dr. Knight remarked that he had not dared to take his horse out while the procession was passing through the streets.  ‘Oh, ho!’ said Dr. H., ’why, I took my mare and drove right up alongside of them, and she wasn’t the least bit scared!’

    ‘Hum—­yes,’ says Dr. K., ‘but how did the elephant stand it?’

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By particular request we find room for the following:—­

Hon. ——­ then read his Poem entitled the ‘Boulder,’ which must be heard before we can form an idea of the genius of the poet.  First we are reminded of the style of the sweet songs of Pherimorz as his enchanting strains fell upon the enraptured soul of the fair Lady of the Lake.  Then away, on painted wings of gratified imagination, is the mind carried to the zephyr wooings of the dying sunset, over the elevated brow of the dark Maid of the Forest, as she reclines upon her couch of eagles’ feathers,