North Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1867-current, 1868-11-11
McGREG0R, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, NOV. IL, 1865

We have been much pleased with the
Keynote correspondent Of the N. Y.
Examiner & Chronicle, religious paper
Of the Baptist persuasion. Below is one
of his letters. We will publish more of
them hereafter.
dropped word about Paris in letter
from there, in which l think l owned to
two opposite feelings with respect to that
marvellous metropolis-delight and de-
Observation-Disclosures and alienation.
said, or should have said, that Paris gives
you every opportunity for enjoyment, and
every occasion for melancholy, inasmuch
as religion is abased in proportion as
material civilization is exalted. And now
l dare to add, in illustration Of the infu-
ence Paris exerts over the mind and
Imagination, that gradually, the feeling of
depression yields to that Of enjoyment,
until the former seems almost entirely
swallowed up by the latter. Yesterday
you wept; to-day you weep and laugh
both; tomorrow you will only laugh. At
first you are stunned, then you are skep-
teal, and then you are firm in nothing
but infirm faith. The poor brain can
hardly hold its own against such specta-
Gle. The old ideas rise out Of their repose,
and futter in alarm, like the srarrows in
the mountains when the hawk sails over
them, or rather when they feel the glitter
Of the serpent eye. The mind with
startling velocity becomes accustomed to
the civilization which it has for half a
lifetime been accustomed to think of with
horror, and to hear of with dismay. You
resent. you stand still, you acquiesce. 1t
is perilous to ac1uiesce. The very contrast
which this civilization presents to that in
which you were born and bred, is calculat-
ed to arrest the attention, awaken refec
ton, and lead to a candid comparison
And what, with its sef-assurance, its
numbers, its plausibility, and its splendor,
this civilization, which scouts the possibil-
ity of mans restraint, or woman's virtue,
puts on terrible trial the faith of the
stoutest in faith.
Paris is an enchanter, a sorcercr. Its
witchery is irresistible. A few days, and
all is over-vou are fascinated, enthralled.
entranced. l told you, in my first hurried
letter from there, how was alternately
attracted and repelled. l tell you now
that l am only attracted. / have never
hankered after any place in this world as
l have hankercd after Paris. never left
a spot on earth with so much reluctance
as felt when leaned on my elbow at
the car window, and saw the last of the
spires and domes of this splendid city.
never was played upon by so many, and
so varied and diverse influences, as was
when l sauntered along its boulevards,
gazed upon its monuments Of art, visited
its places of historic interest, or sat rest
ing, watching. thinking and worshipping
in its imposing churches and ancient
cathedrals. l never had such intense, or
such multiplicity of intense experiences,
as had in Paris.
For, Lear in mind, that this is not the
capital of a single commonwealth, or the
city of a single age, or the work of a sim
gle era. 1t is the Worlds capital; the
ages all are represented here, and every
era has done its part in this stupendous
and magnificent accumulation. In Paris,
you have not only history Of the most
extensive and exciting sort, but you have
problems of government, of civilization, of
religion, and of social life, all rife and
noisy, confronting you everywhere, and
leaving you at rest nowhere. Paris is
not only France, but Paris is the Contin.
ent. Paris is the world. 1t is the focus
Of life and thought, of every form of life
and every species of thought. 1t is the
bone of contention with Bonapartists
Lcgitirnists, Bourbons, and Republicans,
and it is the theatre Of their open combat,
physical and intellectual, and of their Sc
cret machinatians, known and unknown.
1t is throne and an arena. 1t is first in
art and science. in elegance and manners,
in eloquencc and culture in influence over
mankind. By its wickedness it can
destroy more souls, and by its taking the
side Of righteousness it could save more
souls, than any other city, perhaps than
all other cities of the world. 1t is the
keypoint of the worlds situation. Every
eye that is engrossed in the questions Of
government, of ethics, of peace and war,
of religion, of politics, of society, of sci
ence, Of philanthropy, of material enter
prise, OF how to treat the poor, the
disabled, and the discontented-every
such eye is turned upon Paris, every such
ear is listening to Paris, and every such
mind is waiting upon Paris. There is not
a stream of cosmopolitan thought, inves-
tigation or apprehension, that may not be
traced directly to Paris. All the questions
radiate from here, all the problems con-
centrate here.
Every atmosphere political, social,
religious, literary, scientific, artistic-is
furiously nitric. When you breathe it,
you find you have breathed fire, and are
on fire. You feel an illumination you
never knew before, and an elasticity You
never felt before. You see new heavens,
and walk upon n new earth. not one in
which dwelleth righteousness, alas! but
one in (which you have an enthusiasm of
interest to which YOU were hitherto a
stranger.
There are benches by the curbstone, in
the shade Of the trees. l have sat on
them for hours and hours, looking into
the faces Of the interminable tide Of peo-
ple-thinking, wondering-almost frantic
with thinking and wondering. What
buyoancy, grace, jauntiness, noncholance,
happiness, good nat-but look there -
Two Of them are quarreling. Everything
is fascinating here, quarrels and all. See
how perfectly graceful and eloquent those
two irate Frenchmen are! In their highest
rage they are fastidious and dainty. A
Frenchman enjoys everything. He enjoys
his sorrows. lie is happy in his misery.
A skin-deep lot as to feelings but it is
nonsense to call their suavity superficial.
1t is as much part Of them rs the hair of
their heads. Such suppleness is in the
texture, such pliancy is in the joints. Such
art in manners is nature itself. Our quar-
rellers are artistic in their anger. There
is delightful method in their madness.
They will not strike. The fist is an aw-
fully vulgar lump in Paris. The French
man who should use it on another, would
be looked upon rs little better than an
Englishman, or an American. But there
1t is all over. The enemies are friends.
See, there is no trace of the late tempest.
They walk of together, smiling and chat
ting. A Frenchman's choler is a fash Of