A young American of my acquaintance, met, not long since, in the salons of a distinguished Parisienne, one of the most learnedly scientific of the French authors of our times.
"I am as much surprised as I am delighted, to meet you here to-night, Mr. ——," said my friend,
"I supposed you too much occupied in profound research and study, to find time for such enjoyments."
"I am, indeed, much occupied at present," returned the savant; "but I can neither more agreeably nor more profitably spend a portion of my time than in the society of my refined and cultivated friend, Madame ——, and that of the intellectual and accomplished visitors I always meet at her house."
Speaking, in the body of this letter, of the uselessness of arguing with the hope of convincing others, reminded me, by association, of a little incident illustrative of my opinion, of which I was once a witness, during a summer sojourn at Avon Springs—a little quiet watering-place in the Empire State, as you may know.
There was a pleasant company of us, and our intercourse was agreeable and friendly—all, apparently, disposed to contribute to the general stock of amusement, and to make the most of our somewhat limited resources in the way of general entertainment. There were pretty daughters and managing mammas, heiresses, and ladies without fortune, who were quite as attractive as those whose fetters were of gold, the usual complement of brainless youths, antiquated bachelors and millionaire widowers (so reputed), with a sprinkling of nondescripts and old soldiers, like myself.
It was our custom to muster, in great force, every morning, and go in a mammoth omnibus from our hotel to the "Spring" to bathe and drink the delectable sulphur-water, there abounding. On these occasions, every one was good-humored, obliging, and cheerfully inclined to make sacrifices for the comfort and convenience of others. The ladies, especially, were the objects of particular care and courtesy, being always politely assisted up and down the high, awkward steps of our lumbering conveyance, with their bathing parcels, etc.
——"All went merry as a marriage bell,"
until one unlucky day when some theological point became matter of discussion between two men of opposite opinions, just as we were commencing our return-ride from the Spring. Others were soon drawn, first into listening, and then into a participation in the conversation, until almost every man in the company had betrayed a predilection for the distinctive tenets of some particular religious sect. Thus, Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Unitarians, and Romanists stood revealed, each the ardent champion of his own peculiar views. The ladies had the good sense to remain silent, with the exception of an "Equal Rights" woman, whose wordy interposition clearly proved that