The New York herald., 1864-09-21

| TAs Opening 0f tAe Season 1T the Park
aaa the Opera.
Coming events cast their shadows before.
Earthquakes have their preliminary rumbles,
and volcanic eruptions their predatory throes.
So the opening Of the season il always pre-
ceded by several false alarms Anxious and
egotis.ical theatrical managers fondly imagine
that the season has begun because their estab-
hshments have reopened. Second rate MILL
ners and dressmakers are in . hurry to an
nounce their styles before the real style is de-
| cided by the chief artists. Nobodies come
home early from tho country with an insanely
ambitious desire to inaugurate the season be-
fore anybody else gets ahead Of them, and are
| surprised and rebuked to find none of the true
ton upon the streets or at 'the places of amuse-
ment. This year we have had plenty OF such
preludes; but. nevertheless, the season has not
| commenced. Tomorrow we shall have the
fashionable openings. Then, in the course OF
| a week or so, the season will be inaugurated at
the Park. On the Sd of October it will cul-
the ladies time to order and receive their new
bonnets and new dresses, without which life
would be burden and the world blank.
We need no seventh son of seventh son to
assure us that the city will be crowded and the
season brilliant. The shoddy aristocracy Of
New York will be reinforced by the manufac-
turing and contract aristocracy of New Eng
| land, the new fedged anthracite aristocracy Of
| Eastern Pennsylvania, and the petroleum ars-
| tocracy of Western Pennsylvania. Until the
Chevalier Raymond re-elects Lincoln and Or
| ganizes the Legion Of Honor these aristocracies
will be our sole dependence; but we intend to
make the most of them. Contracts and the high
tariff have enriched all the New Englanders.
The high price of coal has transformed the
Eastern Pennsylvanians into millonaires. AS
for the Western Pennsylvanians, they have
found a new California under their feet, and
| money bubbles up to them in the form of coal
| oil. Farmers who earned their sour bread by
| the sweat of their brows few years ago now
roll in wealth and carriages. Farms which
were worth only few thousand dollars before
| coal oil was discovered are now valued at as
many millions. The ploughshares have been
! exchanged for shares of petroleum stock.
Quondam agriculturists have become capital
lists. Their wives and daughters have stepped
| from the kitchen to the boudoir, and relin-
] quished the churn for the piano. These won
derful changes, which ought to be ranked
among authentic miracles, have given us three
new orders Of arstocracy, and of course all
these new aristocrats will come to New York
to see the world and sbend their money.
We have educated admonished and advised
our shoddy aristocracy until the most of them
are quite au fait in the ways Of fashionable life,
and no longer stare through the wrong end Of
their opera glasses or 60 away hungry from a
grand dinner because they cannot read the
French bills Of fare. Unwearied by our tc-
nevolent exortions in their behalf, we propose
to undertake the same hard task with the con-
tract aristocracy, the anthracite aristocracy
and the petroleum aristocracy. The first en-
deavor of the new people must be to procure
something to wear. The Quaker fashions Of
the village Of Philadelphia and the Yankee
styles Of the town Of Boston are ridiculous in
metropolitan New York. Il is perhaps unfor-
tunate that the best modiSies will only admit
their fashionable customers to the open
| ings tomorrow; but some of the new sris-
| tocrats may borrow cards. and Others may ac-
| company fashionable friends, and the rest must
trust to chance and observation, and try to imi-
tate cleverer people. Upon one point warn
ing is indispensable The French modistes are
almost all arrant cheats, and make out their
N.
ing. The best plan is, therefore. to pay cash
for everything, and never have a bill upon any
terms. To equip the new arstocrats will re-
qaire about q week or two. Then amusemeats
will be tie order Of the DAY and night. In New
York there are only two fashionable places of
spusemcnt-the Park and the Opera. The
theatres try. to be fashionable, but do not sue
ceed. People do not dress to 60 to the thea
tres. They look at the performances instead Of
looking at each other, and this is vulgar The
Park will be delightful; the Opera charming.
The Park will be throDged with splendid equi-
pages; the Opera with splend!dly dressed ladies
| and gentlemen. At the Park we shall have all
the beauties Of nature; at the Opera all the
beauties of art. There will be new walks, new
Trees dnu new uTVeS as sne Urn, 0uu new slug
ers, new operas and new scenery at the Opera.
Between the private carriages at the Park and
the private boxes at the Opera there will be
| ample opportunity for display. Unless all the
signs Of the times fall this display will surpass
thas Of last season, which was the most gor-
geous ever known in this country.
MCCLEIIAN's MILITARY CAREER-The Tribune
and Times, true to their party instincts, gave