A very interesting work has just made its appearance at Leipsic, giving an intimate though by no means flattering account of the condition of the POLISH POPULATION IN GALLICIA. The peculiarities of this race of people are described as wild barbarism combined with elegant politeness, dreamy melancholy, and practical cunning. The author was in Gallicia before the peasants' insurrection in 1846. He narrates a variety of the most striking scenes, which though highly colored are apparently true in the main. Among other things he gives an account of a dinner-party to which he was invited, at the house of a nobleman. The house stood in the midst of a scattered mass of outbuildings, none of which bore the slightest appearance of neatness, order, or comfort. Every thing, in fact, has the appearance of neglect and decay. Many of the walls are supported by props to prevent them from tumbling. Around the doors the slightest rain produces a disgusting morass, while the general aspect of the whole reminds the beholder of Attila's wooden palace in Pannonia, where he heaped up the booty of a world, and received the ambassadors of Rome. When the writer reached the door, he found his host with some other gentlemen waiting to receive him. The company was numerous, and all, especially the ladies, expensively dressed, in the last Parisian fashion, with abundant jewelry and ornaments. The saloon in which they were received was large but low, the walls covered with dirty paper, the floor of rough boards, the furniture of all sorts and sizes, and nowhere a trace of art or refined taste. The conversation was carried on in French, and the ladies exhibited a thorough acquaintance with Paris matters, notabilities, and gossip generally. At the table the drinking was almost incredible, and the topic of conversation, the emancipation of Poland. Every word was aimed at the conversion of the German guest. The hard treatment of the serfs was spoken of as necessary, as they must be kept in complete subjection in order to be made useful in the great work. The festivity grew more and more ardent, till at last one of the gentlemen took a shoe off from a lady's foot, filled it with wine, and after drinking from it himself, passed it to the others, so that all could pledge the ladies from such a cup. The next morning the stranger saw by chance a sight of another kind, as he was taking a walk. Behind a wall a man lay on the earth; another held fast his head, and a third his feet, while a fourth stood over him with a whip, laying on with all his might. The lord stood by in his dressing-gown, smoking a long pipe, and coolly directing the procedure. The guest turned away from the spectacle, but was told by his servant that this was the tenth man who had undergone the same punishment that morning. The offence was, that they had not begun work at sunrise. Of course a peasantry so treated could have no affection for their masters. All the work was done in the