LETTERS FROM THE OLD WORLD.

NUMBER LXIII.

HAVERSTOCK HILL, Dec. 31st, 1858.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—I can scarcely realize the fact that twelvemonths have rolled away since, from the town of "bonnie Dundee," I sent you last old year's scribble—yet so it is, and in a few hours we shall be called on to part company with our good old friend, year 1858. We may, even now, prepare to chant his "midnight mass;" for his doom is sealed—he must die. Alone he purposes his solitary march onward—he neither turns back, no stands still—he looks not to the right, nor to the left—he cares not whether we are glad or sorry at his departure—whether he leaves us a legacy of joy or sorrow, of hope or despair—his course is unchangeably and steadily froward. In vain some of us poor mortals have bade him pause awhile, and not so soon convert present happiness into the pleasures of memory; alike in vain have others among us (impatient of the weariness of life) woo'd the old year to let us bear him company, and to take us with him into that unknown "bourne whence no traveler returns;" he heeds no supplications, no murmurings; he has done his appointed work, no more, no less; he has never been for a moment idle, and throughout his life he has made no mistake, and now his last night is coming on, when he can work no more. We all watch his end with great interest, and look longingly, wishfully after him, as he noiselessly glides through those mysterious gates that separate Time from Eternity, and is seen no more.

Old year's night in England is a time of great festivity. There are, probably, more evening parties given night, than any night throughout the year. The take a sober view of the season, and give themselves to meditation and prayer; the make it an especial season for mirth and social enjoyment, and the new year is ushered in with hilarity and gladness. is, for a time, in the ascendant, as people hope for themselves and gaily wish their neighbors "a happy new year." But I must bear in mind that before these lines meet the eyes of my trans-Atlantic and British friends, the of our forthcoming year 1859 will be passing away into early childhood, and they will have ceased their rejoicing at its birth.

New year's good wishes will longer have ceased to be heard in our kind streets; yet I must add my quota to the friendly greetings, and most sincerely wish you, my dear friends, your readers, and all my friends, on both sides of the ocean, a happy new year. This is a season for forming good resolutions, as well as for making plans for future work. I trust that the faithful friends of the slave will "remember those in bonds," and resolve (with the blessing of God) to labor even more in time to come, than they have in time past. Dear friends, the anti-slavery ranks are thinning; "friend after friend departs;" gaps are made in the little army that cannot be filled up—for can fill the places of the Hon. WILLIAM JAY, or of JOHN N WILDER, Esq?

can be a worthy successor to that truly excellent, able, Christian man our valuable friend, Rev. Wm. Watkins? What minister of Christ will stand forward, and in the right, to supply the blank made

by the much lamented death of the Rev. Dudley Tying? These noble, Christian men are gone to their reward; doubtless, our loss is their gain—but we are apt to think we can [spare?] all such, and that the poor, oppressed slave can spare them from his little band of true-hearted allies. "God's ways are not as our ways; not His thoughts as our thoughts;" and though, at present, there seems much that is mysterious in the removal, from peculiar spheres of usefulness and labor, of some of the excellent ones of the earth, what we see not , in all this, we shall see by the bye, and in the light of Eternity will the "" (to us finite being, not "unsearchable and past finding out") of INFINITE wisdom be clearly revealed.

It behoves each one of us, meanwhile, to strive to follow in the footsteps of those mourned ones, who are "not lost, but gone before." Let us

"Act, ACT in the living Present,

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footsteps on the sands of time."

None of us can tell how soon "the night" may come, "when no man can work;" "let us then be up and doing." and let us resolve anew that while God gives us health and strength, we will not forget to labor in behalf of our colored brothers and sisters, those , who

I should lament over my own shortcomings, in the way of anti-slavery work, during the past year, (arising, as most of my friends know, from serious illness, and consequent total prostration of bodily strength and mental energy,) but that I have the satisfaction of knowing how diligently and successfully some of my dear and much valued co-operating friends worked, in this important cause, while they were urging me to further "rest"—may Heaven bless them all!

It was with no small regret that I gave up my intention of being with my kind Dublin friends at the time of their anti-slavery Bazaar. Several recent letters from them inform me what an elegant and imposing appearance the great room of the Rotunda presented on the 17th of December. The numerous beautiful devices and mottoes were executed by my clever, active, and zealous friends, the Misses Warwick and Webb, and most appropriate they seem to have been. Opposite a grand "IRELAND," (the letters of which were, I am told, two feet in height,) was a large motto, finely executed by Miss Warwick, "Remember them that are in ," &c.—the word "bonds" being formed by links. I wish I had been on the spot; then I would have sent oyu a full and particular account of this beautiful anti-slavery demonstration, made by our warm hearted Hibernian friends in their metropolis on behalf of the slave. I trust, however, that an account of the Bazaar has been sent you for publication. Need I say that the old and faithful friend of the oppressed, Mrs. WILLIAM WEBB, and her untiring coadjutor, Mrs. STUDDERT, have been moving spirits in this matter? These excellent Christian ladies never seem to grow "weary in well doing"—"their reward is sure."

My pleasant visits in the West Riding were only marred by sever influenza, which came on soon after the Halifax Bazaar, and has

many times during the last two months made me a close prisoner. On my way South, I had the gratification of being present at the annual meeting of the Birmingham Anti-Slavery Society. The assemblage, though small, was earnest, and the address there given by my esteemed friend, Rev. R. W. DALE, (co-pastor of Rev. JOHN ANGEL JAMES,) was admirable Mr. Dale has not only a "heart to feel for others' woes," but he ison the slavery subject. The Society in Birmingham should flourish under his banner, and I hope it will. Our friends in that quarter must not be discouraged. We have to bear in mind that a venerable Society—an elder sister—the oldest "" in England, was born in Birmingham many years ago, and has long dwelt there. Numerous old and staunch friends of the slave are members of this Society. After laboring diligently for West Indian Emancipation, these friends work for the support of schools in the West Indies, and no true friend of the negro would desire one subscription to fall off from that excellent association, even were it to be given to that Birmingham Anti-Slavery Society, which latter Society is established expressly to aid the friends of the cause laboring in the U. S., and the fugitive slaves as they flea to Canada.

Then again, there is in some circles of this town, (as in all manufacturing towns where there is much trade,) great deadness and indifference to the wrongs of slavery, and an entire inclination to giving subscriptions for such an object as the slave's freedom. Some of these worthy manufacturers have, perchance, been visited by Scions of Southern chivalry, (for whom they have made bowie knives or revolvers!) or by New York merchants, who are interested on the side of slavery; and those men beguile our men of business with stories about the incapacity of the negro, his utter incapability to take care of himself, the exceeding kindness of certain portions of in taking care of these incapable people, appertaining to and so our people (some of them who have no time to read on the subject) become deluded, think an anti-slavery society is a very dangerous, incendiary think! and set their face as a flint, and steel their hearts when asked for a subscription to aid the slave! Several years since, I and a friend of mind encountered a at the counting-house of a leading manufacturer. The latter gave us a subscription () after the former had departed; and if some of the leading houses in Birmingham refuse to aid the Anti-Slavery Society there, we must not be surprised, nor discouraged, but

"Learn to labor and to wait."

A brief but pleasant intercourse with my kind friends in Birmingham (Mr. and Mrs. E. Sturge inclusive) was followed by a delightful visit to our dear friends at Sherbourne House, Coventry, and an agreeable meeting with the anti-slavery organization which was partly formed there two years ago, and which is now, I trust, wholly inaugurated. Often, during my sojourn at Coventry, you were spoken of, always with a kindly interest, coupled with the hope that one day you may again be welcomed to the home and hearts of your friends there and elsewhere in this country. Both in Birmingham and Coventry donations were handed me in behalf of the slave, which I gladly received and shall gladly forward.

Donations from the [Clagber?] Society met me in Coventry, from the hand of that indefatigable friend of the slave, Mrs. Waring Maxwell.—To all the Societies and friends who have contributed, through me, during the past year, I feel (on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves) most grateful; and to all I get to say that I shall have as much pleasure in forwarding their respective donations to the States, in time to come, as in time past, and also in attending to the numerous communications with which they favor me.

Among the numerous popular Societies of the present day, in our own little island, none, I am inclined to believe, are doing so much good as the "Young Men's Christian Associations." These are scattered far and wide over the country, but the Society is in London, and on Tuesday evening I attended a of this parent Society held at the City of London Institution. I was most agreeably surprised at the admirable manner in which the whole proceedings were conducted, and at the interest imparted to every part of the entertainment. A capital lecture was delivered by Dr. Pettigrew, on Anæsthetics, or Insensibility to Pain—then we had a fine selection of music, well performed, by vocalists from St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster—they gave us some delicious music from Handel, Mendelssohn and Bishop, and quite enchanted us with their performance of that far famed Quintett by Webbe, "when winds breathe soft."

I cannot attempt to tell you of the wondrous exhibition of Microscopes, Stereoscopes, Gyroscopes, Kaleidoscopes, &c., that met our view, nor of the greater wonders some of this almost miraculous and exquisitely minute machinery revealed to us. Verily, this is an [a]ge of miracles as regards discoveries in sci[e]nce! there seems no limit —the na[tu]re of man. Time fails to tell of what I [s]aw and heard; one microscope shewed me [t]he Lord's prayer, written on glass, with the [p]oint of a diamond; I read every letter with ease, and it to occupy cen[ts] about the size of a crown piece; but in reality the little piece of glass on which the characters were traced, was not the part of the size of your pieces—the writing having been reduced (by some machinery miraculous than spirit-rapping!) ! to a minuteness which reduced the height of the letters to the part of an inch! A portrait of our good Queen Victoria was exhibited, small and choice, being composed of But "the hailing garments of the night" are in view—the "gloamin" is here already, and I must say farewell once more—assuring you that I remain, now and always,

Your faithful friend,

JULIA GRIFFITHS.