The afternoon session opened at 2:00 o’clock, but I did not reach the place until half an hour later.  The court-room was crowded as usual, and many had been turned away, who stood in knots about the halls and portico, holding the posts, and discussing politics and church matters.  I entered hastily, like one behind time and in a hurry, and inquired where the court-room was.  “It is crowded to over-flowing, you can not enter,” was the reply; but I went for the reporter’s door.  A few raps, and it was opened.  I offered my card and asked for a place in the audience as a reporter.  The reply was that the room was already jammed full.  But I retained my position in the door all the same!  “What paper do you represent?” asked the door-keeper.  “I am a correspondent of the National Educator" was my response; whereupon he bid me step in.  The court-room was a small one for the occasion, affording seats for about 400 on the floor, and for 125 more in the gallery.  Some twenty-five or thirty ladies were scattered through the audience.  Mr. Beech, Tilton’s senior lawyer, was summing up his closing speech.  Tilton and Fullerton sat immediately behind him, but Mr. Beecher was not in court.  Toward the close of the session there was a kind of “clash of arms” among the opposing lawyers.  Fullerton repeated the challenge previously made by Beech, offering to prove that corrupt influences were made to bear upon the jury.  The Judge appointed a time for hearing the complaint, and adjourned the Court.

Barnum’s Hippodrome

was visited in the evening, where I saw for the first time on a grand scale, the charming features of the European "cafe” (pronounced cae’f[=a]’).  Here are combined the attractions of the pleasure garden or public square, with the ornaments and graces of the ball-room and the opera.  It is a magnificent parlor abounding in trees, fountains, statuary and rustic retreats.  Gilmore’s large band of seventy-five to a hundred pieces, occupying an elevated platform in the centre, render excellent music.  Fifteen hundred to two thousand gas jets, eveloped by globes of different colors (red, white, blue, yellow and green) and blazing from the curves of immense arches, spanning the Hippodrome in different directions, illuminate the entire building with the brilliancy of the noon-day sun.  To the right of the entrance is an artificial water-fall about thirty feet in height.  Two stationary engines supply the water, elevating 1,800 gallons per minute, which issues from beneath the arched roof of a subterranean cavern, and dashing down in broken sheets over a series of cascades and rapids, plunges into a basin below.  From this basin it flows away into tanks in an other building, where four to five tons of ice are consumed daily to keep it at a low temperature, so that the vapor and breeze produced by this ice-water, at the foot of the cataract, refreshes the air and keeps it cool and pleasant during the warm summer evenings.  The admittance is fifty cents, and 5,000 to 10,000 persons enter every night, during the height of the season.  Here meets “youth and beauty,” and the wealth, gayety and fashion of New York is well represented,