self, I determined to get into it coute qui coute. So when we changed cars at Utica, I rushed forth, and seeing a nice young person, with a pretty face, bonnet and shawl, and a large portmanteau, urging her way through the crowd, I stepped up by her side and with my native grace and gallantry offered my arm and my assistance. They were gratefully accepted, and proud of my success, I ushered my fair charge up to the platform of the ladies' car. My old enemy was holding the door. 'Is that your lady, Sir?' said he. With an inward apology to Mrs. PHOENIX for the great injustice done to her charms by the admission, I replied: 'Yes.' Judge of my horror when this low employée of a monopolizing and unaccommodating rail-road company, addressing my companion with the tone and manner of an old acquaintance, said: 'Well, SAL, I guess you've done well, but I do n't believe his family will think much of the match.' However, I got into the ladies' car, and having repudiated the young person SARAH, got an exceedingly pleasant seat by the side of a very warm and comfortable young lady of a sleepy turn and quiet disposition. I would n't have exchanged her for two buffalo-robes, but alas! she got off at Syracuse, and then, frosty Caucasus, how cold it was! And so grinding, and jolting, jarring, sliding, and freezing, wore away the long night.

'In the morning we were at Buffalo. I saw nothing of it but a rail-road depot ; but I remember thinking as I stamped my feet and thrashed my arms to restore the circulation, that if that sort of weather continued, 'the Buffalo girls could n't come out to-night,' and would probably have to postpone their appearance until the

summer season.

Among the passengers on the Erie Rail-road was a very interesting family, on their way to Terre Haute, (Ind.) There was the father, a fine manly figure; the mother, pale, delicate, and lady-like; and nieces, cousins, and babies innumerable, but all pretty and pleasant to behold. But the gem of the family was 'BELLE.' BELLE was the factotum, she nursed the babies, went errands for her father, helped her mother, and was always on hand to render assistance to any body, anywhere; and though her patience must have been sorely tried, she preserved her amiability and genuine good nature so thoroughly that she became to me an object of constant attention and admiration. She was evidently the manager of that family, and went about every thing with a business-like air, quite refreshing to observe. She was about sixteen years old, very pretty, neatly dressed, and of a most merry and vivacious disposition, as was evinced by every sparkle of her bright eyes. Farewell, 'BELLE,' probably you'll never see this tribute from your unknown admirer, or meet him in propria persona; but the loss will hardly be felt, for you must have more admirers already than you know what to do with. Happy is the man that's destined to ring the BELLE of Terre Haute,

'All day and all night we ground along, 'ripping and staving.' We passed through Columbus where the people had been having a grand ball to celebrate the completion of their State Capitol, and picked up three hundred and eighty-four survivors, each of whom contained a pint and a half of undiluted whiskey. And so in the morning we came to Cincinnati, where for fifteen minutes we tarried at the BURNETT House, the most magnificent hotel in these United States. Here I met with FISHER, the celebrated rail-road traveller, who accompanied us to Sandoval, and with whom I was particularly charmed. FISHER is the original inventor of that ingenious plan of getting rid of an unpleasant occupant of the same seat, by opening the window on the coldest night, so that the draught shall visit searchingly the back of the victim's neck; and of that method of taking up the seat and disposing it as an inclined plane, and going to sleep thereon in such a complicated manner as

to defy subsequent intrusion. What he does not know about rail-roads is of no manner of consequence and useless to acquire. Thanks to his experience, we enjoyed the luxury of two seats together, and it was with deep regret that I parted with him at Sandoval. The change of cars from the Erie to the Illinois Central, is a delightful incident. The latter has the broad gauge, the seats are comfortable and convenient, the speed exhilarating, and no exertion is spared by the civil conductors to render the passengers as happy as circumstances will permit. I have never travelled more comfortably than on the Illinois Central, and hereby wish long life and prosperity to the company.

'The third day and the third night were over, we had passed safely through the city of Sandoval, which consists of one house, where the cars are detained five hours for the benefit of an aged villain who gave us very poor roasted buzzard and called it wild turkey; and, grateful to PROVIDENCE, we arrived at Grand Cairo.

'I stepped out of the cars a shorter man than when I started. The friction for three days and three nights had reduced my height two-and-a-half inches; a singular psychological fact, which I recommend to the consideration of the learned WALKER.

'Cairo is small hole at the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi River, surrounded by an artificial bank to prevent inundation. There are here about thirteen inhabitants, but the population is estimated at three thousand, that being a rough estimate of the number of people that were once congregated there, when five trains of cars arrived before a boat left for New-Orleans. They were enjoying the luxury of the small-pox at Cairo when we arrived; they are always up to something of the kind; a continued succession of amusements follow. The small-pox having terminated its engagement, the cholera makes its appearance, and is then followed by yellow fever for the season. Sweet spot! DICKENS has immortalized it under the name of Eden, an evident misnomer, for no man worth as much as ADAM could remain there by any possibility.

'The fine steamer 'James Montgomery' was about to leave for New-Orleans, and we soon found ourselves most comfortably, indeed luxuriously established on board. A very merry passage we had to this great Crescent City, under the charge of our stout and jovial captain, whose efforts to amuse us, seconded as he was by the pretty and vivacious 'widow,' were entirely successful. The General' also, a noble specimen of the gentlemen of Tennessee, proved himself a most agreeable travelling companion, and endeared himself to our little society by his urbanity, cheerfulness and fund of amusing and interesting anecdote. Among our passengers was, moreover, the celebrated ELIZA LOGAN, probably the finest actress now on the American stage, who has acquired a most enviable popularity, not only by her great professional talent, but by her charms of conversation and her estimable reputation as a lady. She chants the 'Marseillaise' in a style that would delight its author. One who wishes to realize for an instant what death is, should listen to her enunciation of the last words of the refrain of this celebrated composition; if he can repress a shudder, he is something more or less than man. Accompanied by my old friend BUTTERFIELD, who had joined us at Memphis, I landed at New-Orleans, and proceeded forthwith to the Saint CHARLES Hotel. At this great tavern AMOS expected to meet his wife, who had arrived from California, to rejoin him after a three months' separation. I never have seen a man so nervous. He rode on the outside of the coach with the driver, that he might obtain the earliest view of the building that contained his adored one. It was with great difficulty that I kept pace with him as he 'tumultuously rushed' up the step leading to the Rotunda.

In an instant he was at the office and gasping ‘Mrs. BUTTERFIELD.' 'In the parlor, Sir,' replied DAN, and he was off. I followed and saw him stop with surprise as he came to the door. In the centre of the parlor stood Mrs. BUTTERFIELD. That admirable woman had adopted the very latest and most voluminous style; and having on a rich silk of greenish hue, looked like a lovely bust on the summit of a new-mown hay-stack. BUTTERFIELD was appalled for a moment, but hearing her cry 'Amos,' he answered hysterically, 'My AMANDER!' and rushed on. He ran three times round Mrs. BUTTERFIELD, but it was of no use, he could n't get in. He tried to climb her, but the hoops gave way and frustrated the attempt. He extended his arms to her; she held out hers to him; tears were in their eyes. It was the most affecting thing I ever witnessed. Finally Mrs. BUTTERFIELD sat down, and AMOS got behind the chair and kissed her, until their offspring, by howling and biting the calf of his leg, created a diversion. They were very happy, so were the people in the parlor. Every body appeared delighted; and a small boy, a year or two older than little Amos, jumped up and down like a whip-saw, and halloa'd 'Hoop-ee' with all his might.

''BUTTERFIELD,' said I, an hour or two later, 'I suspect that Mrs. BUTTERFIELD has adopted hoops.'

"Oh! yes,' answered he, 'I saw that sticking out. Perhaps it will obviate the little tendency she had to 'blow up.' I'm glad of it.'

'I have taken room No. 3683 in this establishment, and am a looker on in Vienna. To be sure my view is that usually termed, 'the bird's eye,' but I am getting a tolerably good idea of things. I should like very much to attend the ordination of Brother BUCHANAN in March next, and hear the Russian Minister preach, but I fear it will be impossible.

'You will hear from me when you receive my next letter. Respectfully yours,

'JOHN PHŒNIX.'

WE are sorry that we called our excellent lady correspondent a 'strongminded woman,' since the sense, as she observes, might be regarded as 'ambiguous.' Such was not our thought, however, when we used the term:

'WHEN I sent you an essay last spring, you were pleased to call me a 'strongminded woman,' and really I did not know whether to be flattered or offended, for that adjective, as usually applied to women at the present day, is a little ambiguous. There are some who are called strong-minded women with whom I should consider myself complimented by being associated; and there are others with whom I should scorn to be classed. However, I do not know as I was ever called by my friends or acquaintances strong, either in body or mind, prior to that time, nor but once subsequently, and that was on the seventeenth of last July, when I clung in a very uncomfortable position to a plank full three-fourths of an hour, floating about in Lake Erie. You doubtless remember that it was on that day the 'Northern Indiana' was burned. I was among the passengers, and on the stern of the boat, and of course, to avoid death by fire, must plunge into the water. On rising again to the surface, I grasped a rope, thrown by a friendly hand, and was drawn to a plank, on which I, together with four others, sustained myself and floated about a mile, as we were afterward told. My companions then called me 'strong-minded,' because of what they were pleased to call my courage and presence of mind; but certainly I saw no reason to be frightened, or to feel otherwise than hopeful, and even so far as our own case was concerned, cheerful, when we had a plank to rest upon, and saw boats coming to our aid. But I can assure you I felt strong in body, for notwithstanding my arms ached excruciatingly, I thought I could have held on

for hours if necessary; though when we were taken up by a small boat from the propeller 'Republic,' I found myself so exhausted as to be unable to raise a hand. We were taken to the steamer 'Mississippi,' and there I formed some acquaintances that I never shall forget. Just as the glories of the sun, when he himself has passed from us to brighten other lands, reflected back upon the lowering clouds of evening, transforms their gloomy visages into images of beauty, as bright and glorious as the skies of Heaven; so the remembrance of those acquaintances shines on the gloom of that terrible day; and will ever shine through the dark vista of coming years, illuminating every cloud that hangs along the darkening sky. Ithink I must mention particularly Dr. J. R. BIGELOW of your city, to whom I send greeting, (for I doubt not that he reads the KNICKERBOCKER,) and Mrs. JACOB HOWARD of Detroit, who very kindly took me to her own state-room and provided for my wants with a sister's care.

' AND she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a tone,
That I almost received her heart into my own.'.

'WORDSWORTH says almost, I say quite; for I am sure there is a place occupied in my heart, that before was vacant. By-the-way, how much, how very much there is in the manner in which a kind office is performed. The acquaintances I have mentioned, acted not only as though they commiserated the condition of the sufferers with whom they were surrounded, but as though those sufferers had a right to any assistance which it was in their power to give, as really as though they had been their own mother's children. How different such benevolence from that accompanied with the express understanding that it is benevolence, or from that whose object is the praise of the world, or farther, that prompted by romance.

'I have often regretted that I did not observe more particularly the sailors in that small boat, so that I might always remember them. One night, a short time since, I fell asleep with this regret on my mind, and Memory, loosed from the bonds in which the senses held her, took me upon her pinions and flew back to that scene, placed me in the bow of that boat, sitting upon a coil of rope, and leaning against the boat's side, surrounded by fellow-sufferers, all clothed like myself in dripping garments. The sailors were all in their places, and I saw them very distinctly; and one of them, with sandy whiskers and sun-burnt face, turned and looked at me with just that peculiar expression of countenance that he did on that memorable day, when I was weak and womanish enough to 'cry' because they would not heed me, but took me first from that floating plank, when I felt sure I could retain my hold better than my friend could his. So memory, blest memory, gave back in sleep what the mind failed amid the excitement of that hour to grasp ! At least I am quite sure I should know that man of the full blue eye, sun-burnt face, and sandy whiskers. I am sure it was not imagination, but memory pictured that scene for me, for I turned in my dream to the friend who was rescued with me, and exclaimed: 'I thought I had forgotten these sailors, but their countenances are as familiar as your own.' I know no better cure for a misanthrope than to pass through such a scene as that; when he will not only feel that all mankind are brethren, but that they acknowledge that brotherhood in the time of need, even at the risk of their own lives. Ah! and he will find there is a warm, soft spot which he knew not of, far down in the depths of his own frozen heart, that will send up a stream of love and sympathy that will overflow in deeds ere he is aware. If not,

"WHAT kindly warmth from touch of fostering hand,

What penetrating power of sun or breeze,

Shall e'er dissolve the crust in which his soul

Sleeps, like a caterpillar sheathed in ice?

For my own part, my respect for human nature was materially augmented at that time; for I saw so much less selfishness, and so much more self-sacrifice, even before I left the burning boat, than I had any idea would be exhibited on such an occasion. Before me lies the July number of the KNICKERBOCKER, which floated in my basket upon my arm, through all that perilous voyage upon the gang-plank; but notwithstanding the trying ordeal through which it has passed, I think it will do to bind.

'But I have occupied this whole sheet with reminiscences of the Northern Indiana,' when I intended to have written of 'strong-minded women.' I believe it is universally acknowledged, that when a woman's tongue is once set to running, there is no knowing when or where it will stop; and I suppose it is not strange that it should be so with her pen, since it is but a substitute for that member.

.

'HARRIET N. GOFF."

Such strong-minded women' we like! WE'cry mercy' of the Boston 'Watchman and Reflector. We were not unaware, when we jotted down our 'learned' notice of the review of Der Biblischen Psychologie' of DELITZSCH, in the Christian Review' for the October quarter, that theologians use, 'and often use, language that to common readers seems barbarous.' We know that they do:

'We know what such afflictions mean,

For we have felt the same.'

We are not ignorant of the fact, also, as stated, that 'questions of this sort are frequently discussed, that are neither interesting nor intelligible: ' and that they not unusually 'contain sentences of which none but a trained metaphysician could hope to make any sense.' That's so: but why should it be so? Why put up 'No admittance' on dead walls, through whose cracks nobody can peep, and rough board-doors, at which nobody would knock, unless something, of some kind, was supposed to be seen inside? We want to learn. Edication,' says the editor of the 'Bunkum Flag-Staff,'” ‘is the creöwnin' gleöry of the United'n States'n:' and he farther exclaims: 'How hard it is to write good!' Now if you want to 'write good,' write plain, so that he that runs may read,' if he wants to read, and not run away, if he don't want to read at all. But our entertaining friend of the Boston Evening Traveller' daily journal has taken up the cudgels for us: and he is a staunch defender. He says:

'WE confess ourselves to have been astounded when we were accused of describing a very respectable and learned German scholar as a shallow pedant, because we had merely copied a facetious paragraph from the KNICKERBOCKER. It would seem that the muddiest intellect could not fail of discovering that the KNICKERBOCKER's paragraph was a confession (discreditable to no one save learned theologians and perhaps the editor of the Watchman and Reflector) that the editor of the KNICKERBOCKER knew nothing of the subject in question; but with more honesty than some editors we wot of, he writes a notice of the learned article, affecting perfect familiarity with its subject and abstruse phraseology, but by witty comments inserted here and there, intentionally exposes his real ignorance, and thus most effectually satirizes the stilted notices of less honest critics, who hide their own ignorance by a free use (implying familiar acquaintance) of these abstruse and technical phrases. We hope the editor of the Watchman and Reflector' will be at the trouble of a little closer analysis before assuming again the post of universal censor. He should be careful, too, in his use of unfamiliar weapons. We are compelled to warn him, that in such an attempt, his weapon will be likely to do execution at the nearest end.'