elebrated
German, French and Italian schools, Mr. Tourjee returned, and, fired
with new zeal, started in 1864 a chartered conservatory at Providence.
This proved eminently successful. But Boston was the ideal site: talent
gravitates toward large cities, and Boston's acknowledged "love of the
first rate" would be the best surety for a lofty standard and
approximate fulfilment. In 1867, under a charter from the State, he
finally transplanted his school to this metropolis under the name of the
New England Conservatory of Music, which it retains to the present date.
It has, with characteristic American rapidity, become the largest
music-school in the world, having within fifteen years instructed over
twenty thousand pupils: in a single term it frequently numbers between
eight and nine hundred. It has a connection with Boston University, the
only one in the country where music is placed on the same basis with
other intellectual pursuits, and the faculty numbers some of the most
renowned artists and composers in the land. Eben Tourjee was appointed
dean of the College of Music in the University, with the title of Mus.
Doctor.

The New England Conservatory deserves this special mention as the parent
school in America, and it has been promptly and ably followed by the
establishment of others in most of our large cities.

F. D.

CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE IN THE WEST OF IRELAND.

[The following extract from a private letter just received from Ireland
gives a glimpse of the state of affairs in that country which may
interest our readers, as indicating, better than any mere partisan
statements or newspaper reports, the solid grounds that exist for
apprehension in regard to impending disturbances:]

"I have just returned from a tour in the west of Ireland, and I
wish I could describe the horrors I have seen--such abject
misery and such demoralization as you, no doubt, never came in
contact with in your life. The scenery of Connemara beats
Killarney in beauty and the Rhine in extent and magnificence,
but no tourist could face the hotels: the dirt, the
incompetence, the abominableness of every kind are awful. As
these people were two hundred years ago, so they are
now--ignorant, squalid savages, half naked, living on potatoes
such as a Yankee pig would scorn, speaking only their barbarous
native tongue, lying and thieving through terror and want, wi