The atmospheric influence, then, is savagely detrimental to the mature development of extraordinary discoveries. In this it is auti-practico-scientific, and will, ere long, be driven from scholastic favoritism. Unwelcome as we have shown it to be in individual and scientific economy, we trust our researches into the economy of politics will prove more favorable. The State is a comprehensive word, meaning a conglomeration of voters. Voters are men presumed to be aged one-and-twenty each—that is, every voter must be, by law, in a majority before an election at which he votes, but it is not unlawful for him to be in a minority after he has voted. At this maturity they are infected with the frailties of humanity, consequently they agree and disagree with each other. Thus parties are formed on the basis of “principles, not men,” for the one, and “men, not principles,” for the other. On the supremacy of one of these combinations the safety of the State depends—so each conscientiously believes. To test the question, elections have been established—a modern republican invention, instead of the old “wager of battle.” The note of preparation is sounded. Martial music echoes in city, village, town and valley, in token of the peaceful nature of the coming contest. The voters of each party are gathered under banners inscribed with the poetry of politics Speeches are made by the humble aspirant after public fame in the shape of “spoils,” a figurative designation for the reward of patriotism. The taverns are filled; disquisitions on political principles, qualifications for public servants, the past history of nominees, and the future prospects of the faithful, are discussed with the blandness and courtesy which mark all polemic controversies. In order to purify the political atmosphere of such assemblies in those party craniums called “Head Quarters,” the fumes of tobacco, flavored with the insensible distillations of “old rye” or “Monongahela,” are used _ad libitum_. This, by the aid of music, speeches, rum and tobacco, “the great principles of the party” are preserved from decay, and made palatable to “generations yet unborn.” As the contest progresses, it is more and more marked by enthusiasm, sincerity, patriotism, self-devotedness to those abstractions born in “’98,” and destined to a green old age, or their immemorial antagonistic dogmas of a more northern extraction. Music, meetings, speeches and speculations, banners and bantering, polemics and pyrotechnics, rum and rows, fights and fabrications, placards and publications, advocates and anathemas, multiply in proportion to the chances of success. Committees of vigilance are active—window-committees impatient—voters are volatile and vicarious—candidates are cajoling, cabaling, convivial, cautious, curious and concerned. Thus progresses the campaign. The day arrives—Election Day—big with the fate of patronage and place. “To the Polls, Freemen, to the Polls!” is conspicuous at every turn, reminding