About Progressive People.

Frederick Douglass is writing the reminiscence of his life since he became a free man.

Professor Haeckel, the eminent evolutionist, has arrived at Vienna on his way to Ceylon.

Casabianca, a prominent French anarchist, committed suicide recently at Marseilles.

George Jacob Holyoak is soon to publish the "Life of Joseph Rayner Stephens, Preacher and Political Orator."

Gov. Robert of Texas, declares that "the civilization capable of republican local self-government begins and ends with the plough."

M. Jules Valles, the former communist, is putting the finishing touch to a five-act play, the title of which will be "La Barque."

Prince Kropotkine's wife, who has just passed an examination for the degree of Bachelor of Science at Geneva, intends to graduate in medicine at University College, London.

Mr. Zola has no patience with his critics, and incessantly chafes under their strictures. He declares that he is going to gather all the abuse heaped on him in print, and publish it in one volume, entitled, "Their Insults." This, he says, will be his apology.

In accordance with direction given before his death by the late Professor W. Kingdon Clifford, the young English radical and scientist whose career gave so much promise, his widow has caused the following beautiful inscription to be carved upon his monument: "I was not, and was conceived. I loved, and did a little work. I am not, and grieve not."

Rich men read Henry George's books, which are principally written to instruct the poor and show them how they are oppressed. One of these rich men told George that he much admired his writings, though directed against his interests, but feared them not. "Why so?" said George. "Because," replied the millionaire, "though I read the books you write, the people for whom they are written never look at them."

A Norwegian paper publishes a statement by the Bjoernatjerne Bjoernson, the novelist, and one of the leaders of the Radical party in Norway, in which he says that his party is composed of Republicans, and that they do not confine themselves to being Republicans in theory and in secretly cherishing hopes of establishment of the government of their choice. They are, he says, working to bring about Republic, and they do all they can to forward the cause of national sovereignty against regal authority.

Cipriani, an Italian anarchist, who was expelled from France a few months ago and arrested and imprisoned on proceeding to Italy, has made a daring attempt to escape from the fortress of Millan, in which he is confined. He endeavored to escape from the fortress of Milan, in which he is confined. He endeavored to escape from the window, the bars of which he had industriously filed through, but his design was frustrated at the last moment. The files of which he made use were small ones, furnished by the prisoner's friends, who concealed them inside some cigars they brought to him as a present.

M. Louis Blanc is not only a great orator, but he has charm of manner, is exquisitely courteous, and has a delicate social conscience. He is not wealthy, having only enough to keep up in Paris a modest establishment furnished in this massive English style. The dead wife  he loved so much was attached to her lares and penates, and took to France the furniture of the London home where she and M. Blanc passed the happiest years of their married life. For her sake he clings to the heavy mahogany chairs and tables, and spacious bookcases and sideboards, which they brought with them from England.

Ruskin, in his latest book, "The Bible of Amiens," writing on the homage paid to the Virgin Mary, says: "Neither Madonna worship, nor lady worship of any sort, whether of dead ladies living ones, ever did any human creature any harm; but that money worship, wig worship, cocked-hat-and-feather worship, plate worship, pot worship, and pipe worship, have done and are doing a great deal; and that any of these and all are quite million-fold more offensive to the God of heaven and earth and the stars than all the absurdest and loving mistakes made by any generation of His simple children show what the Virgin Mother could or would or might do for them.