We do not ordinarily feel disposed to criticize the articles of our contributors; nor do we feel disposed now to do more than to offer a brief suggestion in reference to a philosophical position assumed by the author of an interesting article in our last number, entitled, 'Touching the Soul.' The writer assumes that matter and spirit are so utterly opposite in their respective natures that they cannot be made to act together in any way. For instance, he says: 'Here again the argument is clinched by the mere distinction between matter and spirit, the one being the very antipodes of, and incapable of acting upon the other.' And again: 'To sum up the whole argument in a single sentence, the physical senses are dependent for their perceptions upon the action of matter, and hence spirit, which is not matter, can in no way affect them.'

Unquestionably this statement is contradictory in itself, and, at all events, cannot possibly be sustained to the extent of the assertion. The actual existence of the soul in the body, and the perception of physical objects and effects by the senses, are proofs undeniable that in this instance, at least, there are mutual action and reaction between matter and spirit. If it be said that this connection of the soul with the organized frame is the only condition in which the material and immaterial are known to be capable of acting upon each other, it is yet wholly inaccurate and unphilosophical to say that this mutual action is impossible.

But, in truth, the assertion is unphilosophical and incorrect in a far wider sense, and in reference to a much more extensive range of phenomena than those which concern the mysterious relations of the soul with the human body. Throughout all nature are to be seen the plainest indications of the influence and operation of spirit on the material world. It is spirit only which animates, informs, and shapes the whole universe. Wherever law prevails (and where does it not?) there is intelligence, spirit, soul, acting to sustain it, during every moment of its operation. Indeed it is doubtful whether any other than spiritual power is to be found anywhere in nature. It seems to be too obvious a truth to admit of any doubt or question, that matter, if it be of a nature opposite to that of spirit, has been created as the instrument of soul, having properties suited to the harmonious coöperation of the two, in their respective purposes in nature. To represent matter as something wholly antagonistic to spirit and incapable of any relations with it, is to ignore all our own experience, and the significance of all the grand phenomena of nature.

However great may be the distinction between matter and spirit, the Creator has evidently established the closest relationship between them. All that we can ever know of matter arises from its power to affect the soul,—through the senses while we remain in the body, whatever may be its relations to the spirit in another state of existence. If we take, for instance, the inertia of matter, and consider it philosophically, we can make of it nothing more than a power of resistance, or persistence, residing in certain points, which we call particles of matter. The same is true of attraction and repulsion. These are forces residing in the same points; and these forces are all we know, or can know, about them. So of the sensible qualities of matter; color, for instance. This is merely the power of the same points, to cause vibrations in an elastic medium; and these, acting on the sensorium, communicate sensations, and become the basis of ideas in the soul. Who can say this subtile power, residing in the points which we call particles of matter, is not spiritual in its nature? Or, indeed, who can affirm, with absolute certainty, that there is anything else known to us in the universe, except that which is kindred to the soul by its power to communicate with and inform it. From the very dawn of our existence we have been encased in what we call matter, and have derived all our education from it. It is the only medium by which we communicate with each other; nor have we any other means of climbing up to a knowledge of God himself. We do not mean to say that the spirit of man has no faculties for a direct perception of divine influences; but simply that the material world is the appointed instrument for educating the human soul, through the senses, to the consciousness and intelligent use of its highest and noblest faculties.

By human means, and, also, by all the tremendous operations of nature, so far as they are known to man, matter is wholly indestructible. No instance is known, from the beginning of creation, in which a single particle of matter has been annihilated. Can anything more be said of the soul? Or should we not rather feel relieved, and freed from much doubt, if we had an equal assurance of the continued existence of the soul after the great change which separates it from the body? May we not, at least, without any humiliation, admit our kindred to the dust in which we dwell, and recognize in it a creation, coeval with the soul and intended for its use, with points of contact and mutual coöperation, which render matter and spirit not wholly at war with each other, but united in a common destiny, to be continued at least as long as the duration of the human race on the surface of the earth?

As to the singular phenomena to which our author intends to apply his argument, we can only say that they cannot be disproved in the mode attempted. We have no such knowledge of the facts as would enable us to form any opinion on the subject. But if many good men have not been egregiously deceived, the phenomena in question indicate the speedy discovery of relations not hitherto suspected to exist between matter and spirit. We do not anticipate the development of any other than natural laws. We are not credulous as to the interference of supernatural agencies; but we are fully prepared for almost any discoveries in the department of psychology, unveiling the mysterious but unquestionable relations of harmony—of action and reaction—existing between the soul of man and the universe of God.

ON HORSEBACK.

Those who have scanned with critical eye the cavalry regiments that have lately trooped through our cities from various States of the Union, on their way to the banks of the Potomac, must in candor, if with reluctance, acknowledge that we are not just yet a nation of horsemen. That our troopers have got a knack of 'sticking on' we will admit; but there are ways of fulfilling that necessary condition with more ease to the horse, more grace in the action, and more certainty of being able to use the weapons with precision, than the present very unartistic method common to horsemen generally in most parts of the country. Within a quarter of a century much improvement has taken place in the system of equestrianism under which the cavalry riders of Europe are instructed. Years ago, the long stirrups, such as our dragoons for the most part ride with, were taken up some inches by the riding masters of the British and other foreign services. It was the superior horsemanship of riders brought up in that best of all riding schools, the fox-hunting field, that first drew the attention of cavalry teachers to the necessity of affording a firmer appui to the horseman than he can obtain from stirrups, to keep his feet in contact with which he is obliged to point his toes downward with painful perseverance. All the good 'hunting horsemen,' as they are termed, of England and Ireland, ride with short stirrups. So do the Cossack cavalry, the best troop horsemen, perhaps, in the world. The Arab rides with very short stirrups, which makes him look, when mounted, as if he were sitting on a low chair. But the seat thus obtained by the Arab is not one for men who have to gallop across a country intersected with fences and other obstacles. In stirrups, as in most other things, there is a juste milieu; and if the American dragoon is on one side of that, so is the Arab of the Desert on the other. The late Capt. Nolan, who fell in the famous charge of the Six Hundred at Balaklava, did much to introduce a perfect system of horsemanship into cavalry regiments. He published a work upon the subject, in which he advocates the short stirrup, and bases his system, generally, upon the hunting style of horsemanship. We have seen some very bad riders among British cavalry officers, brought up in the old-school method of seat and band. Indeed, some satirical writer or another has said there are two professional classes to whom it is impossible to impart the art of horsemanship—sailors and cavalry officers: but that was going a trifle too far, as we have seen specimens of both the one and the other capable of acquitting themselves very well 'across country,' which is the test, par excellence, of good riding. That was in later days, however, and since the reforms of the riding master.


In spite of some repulsive features, we insert the accompanying picture. The subject chosen is not of that character which the highest genius loves to depict; yet it is vigorously drawn, and doubtless true to nature. At the present time it may be useful as a fair representation of many specimens of the boasted Southern cavalier.—F. P. S.