By dada t aoc. Tory AL tee De lca Lal Le a » ee Ore Cat ant ba hk! B = i a | ¥ Is fac “ RS emai har Se eae ee ee eet: | o J et i 3 ” 5 . f 5 @ J = " 3 < | - { 4 5 ‘| ‘4 mi Pt : i | 4 fi ° me ae — ” ~~ ow en eee ee eee ivvenee eT eae ee eae ~~ a ee a Lae eee on ce ee CS ee D ee eeSRB PNR pT ALAS ts APG Soe Bes ho Cabal ph Se a : ; oe Meo Ne rie aGioua dais ear seasad Poe Ca | 3 % : rs a ey 5 4 a | fd Pi | F 5 4 mt A a 4 | | a ; d a i * a 4 q e 1 ° s by | s ‘3 iS PY a H | ve Pc eI 5 Fi j E a r a e ee ee teal eee . a NO Oa sata A ee Ee tet aePde ¢ berdeta Pritt a ; . me ae Fe eee OT eres aa ee ca cs a) aa a PIA iad ne A ea LN PD lal Lo ee he PEW RAN len Ga RE Is tal OO ot ae : oe a _ S| i = DS MSs errr ias sr aah eee Le eer eee eee ee eee eeea ee Bere ee ee oad “ee . ee ee a ae a (cap abt it ene hee RARE ECS, ee ee dl = be | { j : : |Fe PPA LPN PD liad Soliant aL ek Oak hae : e a f eae eae LER ae iva CteAFRO-AMERICAN HOME MANUAL ’ AND SHOWING WHAT TO DO AND HOW To Do IT BEING A CONTAINING See be@HeES OF THE LIVES OF PROF. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON, KEV. JOHN JASEER ANE) MANY OTHERS, AS EXAMPLES OF THE ACHIEVEMENTS OF SUCCESSEUS MEN AND WOMEN OF THE RACE BEING,,AN INCENTIVE AND INSPIRATION TO THE RISING GENERATION Embracing Business, Social, Domestic, Historical and Religious Edycation INCLUDING FROM ITS DISCOVERY BY COLUMBUS TO THE PRESENT TIME, WITH THE POPUL ATIOM OF STATES AND CITIES, ACCORDING TO THE CENSUS OF 1800 WITH ARTICLES BY va PROFESSOR I. GARLAND PENN And many other distinguished men of the African Race nd oe ee es es Pc ee ee ee ce ee ee ee hte oe duane a ee ne elsata oa tn a ROS ees CB ad LOFT nen Stal LO ad Se al a beter a a aad a of | i aching nance SNTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS, IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF CONGRESS IN THE YEAR 190 AT WASHINGTON, D c. BYDEDICATION i the Great African Race, States of America, from fallen withi lavery have generation, and whose Progress in that 1€ world, and challenged its admiration :— And to the MILLIONS of sou Is of the same race in the “Dark Continent” to whom those of Ameri ca will carry the light of Christianity to disenthrall them from the bonds of savagery and superstition: And to yet other millions now groaning under the yoke of Slavery In semi-civilized countries and in the islands of the s€a—to all the sons and daughters of Ham Wherever they are found and whatever their condition— short period has astonished tl] + a re] . é * s 4 2 rn cd > : * : a J * 7 4 s a b rd Y : | : : 7 a We send this Volume with our Greeting Sr Happy indeed should be tl ve African Race in this Closing decade of the nineteenth century. From the long dreary night of past ages of re darkness js passing away—the morning light 1€ sun of liberty and enlightenment is‘ risin ch ee ee barbarism and Slavery tl has broken and tl & gloriously in the heavens. To these People, among whom the s pirit of liberty has so recently been born and over whom the star of ho pe is smiling; To that Great Nation, which we believe, shall rise like a triumphant Phenix from the as] 1es which smoulder over the Superstitions, the pers *ecutions ana the barbaric ruins of ages past,— This Volume is hopefully DEDICATED BY THE AUTHORS- : mu a eV eae Une ae: Crk tae = SPM nnd ese dis See ye ea esl al rua _ se EIS an PN it Aeon tl bald a3 Peer Ot tons aad pe eottap or ARTO IE END NTUNTIESEHYN Be anion eae an " p resid baits Ba : pe ; ‘ Le ee ete seen eee eee 3 x pea si eS ‘alunied ) De dena = Dae eee a eet a Tee eee aaa Pee ee ene ee moO. di E READER. In prepari To advise, encourage an inspire them with a desire to be To afford the valuable information 1 who are engaged in the responsible dutie valuable guide for the succes of parents a Educator for the Home. With the above purpose in V their own race, with sketches o what may be accomplished through character. Many engravings illustrating lessons of the great advancement that they must educate and elevate This volum phy. are given as a GUIDE TO SUCCESS given for the purpose © ters of the race. T for it by Self-Education. embracing the following departments : Fifty Years of Advancement, and International Expositions, A to Success, Sports, Physical Development, Ho Bookkeeping and Penmanship, Correspondence Sentiment and Culture of Use of the English Language, Pastimes, How to Organize Masterpieces of Eloquence, S clopedia of Valuable Informati of the Most Eloquent Sermons by iv ng this volume for Many certain well-defined objects were in view, d educate eae many youl tter their condition 11 li iew portraits of n f their achievemen Afro-American Progress of their own people, impr themselves if they would e is intended asa Self-Educator and is in no sense Sufficient portraits and sketches of suc f inspiring ambition and a 6 the future the race must look forw Within this volume W chievements of Successful Men Africa and Its Vast Resources : Rules of Etiquette for all Occasions, Management of Children, Bible Stories for th Societies, Practic elections from the World on and Important Facts for Reference, including Man Millions of Afro-Americans sn this country as follows : 1g people of the race and to fe by Self-Improvement. ,eeded by the large class of men and women ace within the reach s of active life, and to p! and a Family sful training of their children, and women of 1any successful men amples of ts in life, are given as ex and integrity of Sdueation, patience, persevetants bj ect fact are introduced as 0 essing them with the attain success in life. a book of biogras cessful Afro-American men and women objects and events are , and illustrations of places, and daugh- s an incentive for the sons ard. Let each individual prepare ill be found ‘A College of Lite Afro-American Progress Illustrated, Cotton States and Women as a Guide ‘he Care andj Marriage and Domestic Life, ‘I Athletic§ e Young, Household Economy, w to be Healthy and Strong. and Letter Writing, The Correct Flowers, Amusements andy | al Suggestions for Home aud Schoolj s Best Authors, and an Ency@s Great Preachers.CONTENTS OF THE PRACTICAL SELF-EDUCATOR PAGE faIRTY YEARS OF ADVANCEMENT........... cee aly AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED....... 28 CLERGYMEN AND CHURCHEG...........6. shit iesesene 28 BISHOP RICHARD ALLEN........... Pe ene 28 emOr dt. WE. TURNER «:....ccccccceece ceecascavedeusen 200 BisH@Or ALEXANDER WALTERS... cscceccocdecccceece » 30 BEE Lee ANN TR oc sccseececcevcecsleccec seeieetece sol tee ee ISH. cccacscsescsesss Rivrdceseewess Sie OO EMI Pe fe AR CEL ANDY. 05) .occ 0 cccadcnscicoscedcbes wsuwavel 1O4 epee OEUN: LJ ENTE ER, q...ccevscecccece Seehececheserarsea OU Bee AMES Mo TOWNSEND .v....ecesccssccccenceses a OO MEIN C TEA DEL, (CHICAGO.......ccccoevececessocncsees od Reve ot. Ht. GARNETYT......... a ecbhcnneucs selves coos oe wae Reve RICHARD DEBAPTIST............ccscese eseusece elo REV. AWEXANDER CRUMMEEL scsececes: eit awes reek =e 4A: PiwEee ALLE IN CAT LENG WORTH. ccsceccecoacececcosscces tk REV. PIERRE LANDRY....... Ba Weeks oki acee ke kee onc . 45 Pee AUGUSTUS “LOLTON. ««.0cec;savescecceces cepuceeers 47 Peseta SUGIM IA VILOR.,..c.csceseceocassvcsseccssseces 48 REV. EMPEROR WILLIAMG........00- ooececs es cheoceee . 48 Bae ee WV eS TOE NSON. ..ccssccesccocess sae Geanueenetes << oO Romer) eR IRATIA Mow. caccicdcccsececcccccouse wee eee es ol Pesee ome Cow 1s. VIA SON, once caccnsccecsnacecoces neeectees o2 eee NEAR SEAT D0... /cstccesccecessecscecees sicwees 53 Bese ree Nee NEON cious. o ev cscadecsacacclcednciines 53 Si PAULS A.M. CHurRCH, RALEIGH, N: C... 53 Beet EIN AGU R.. ... sc ss nnsvasccccsccctscescccesseccse 04 Beers We > ELAM IMOND nce cceccececcccccccaccoccese - 0 AFRO-AMERICAN COLLEGES AND INDUSTRIAL BRNO Re ess ccic cs Sv doa ve bs Coddns vd acouchedenesk. <= 06 pet, BOOKER 7. WASHINGTON: cc. .cccacceésccecces 60 Mem MMe TS CELA VIS... 2. occ cnncaccncsoeccesessandcnniecs « , 62 Pon Ae WW. IVICKCINNEY, 0. iccccscecocccecccce Socio ee Od PaO Woe). CAL LOWAY.....2000 cecvscsesset aaa ee 64 CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY AND INDUSTRIAL, INS‘TI- BE ince evo sevcccssccccqcceccccccsiccvescoses 2 00 SEATRAT COLLEGE OF “TENNESSEE......ccccccccess 69 OUR ee MUCATIONAT, PROGRESS......ccnccccesccsocces 70 SECRET SOCIETY ORGANIZERS AND OFFICERS 71 AER ROMWIN <0. ccc. sccectcocevecseskavstecsessee 43 MM UC LGEN EY, <. 5. scaseccssesscoscdsonoansscscssee 73 Nemie AND MOITARY HEROES, ..2...0-cccecessocee 74 Memmesrauneh =, OUVER TURE... ....corssocvesecessecececes 74 PIC OBE RT GMAT LS...cccccnesecccccsdcccssecce oe 77 Cer, JAMES LEWIS........00:. Bee hoc cg iescuscd vese veel eee A PAUL...:.ccccs0ceese A eee es ks Se ea BRrCrM rts OE ANE Y..c.caecscocstscccsssccee‘eercees OO THE EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS OF THE & FRO AMERICAN RACE....... rus pmaenidde cise cones 8] DUR RETE EDUCATION. occccosnccs: 1cceesnovesceoeve 8] CoLLEGE EDUCATION. POCCOCOTOSSEOOHOSCES OCEFLSOSOO OOOl GUerre PROFESSIONAL, TRAINING....... : eH INDUSERING.. a6. ee Becsebaccuccues NORTHERN PHILANDTDHROPVs.....0.5......:. eivocuee NATIONAL GOVERNMENT AID.......... Ceoeoetseeseo SELF-EDUCATION SUPPORT.......ss00 ToL eecceee sleek IN NORTHERN INSTITUTIONS........ weaGcceve cee ae ie OUR BOvS AND: Girds 4.535... seosaceneneee . RISK AND PROGRESS OF AFRO-AMERICAN [LIT- BRIACPUR Es oeeyhe cece ete aca ne ioe tome teen os oance : INTERNATIONAL, HXPOSITION, I805.....cscec0 sense NOTED AFRO-AMERCAN WOMEN AND ‘THEIR ACHIEVE MORNIES . 22% oe. cesecsveiss cis. cece deteeee MRS..C. As JORNSON Gc. cc cceestetesecs ac. Maree VERS: CORA Jy.-BURGAN 2.2.16 isvcwaseseeeee Miss GERTRUDE J. WASHENGTON....:.cccscccccsneee Miss TpAsB: WHLESS 1. eoeeseeene VERS. Wie Ee MEAP RS: fees ee sacs cee vebenepee Mrs, ‘Katie ©. DAVIS........ Sabai acesues Siac vucneet- Mrs.0N. Fo MOSSHI ya +..ccst tees e eres eqcaces MISS 2PHVERIS) WBE ASIPEN .ccst.cciceess jacdhowaeeeere MRS. FRANCES H. PRESTON. ...cs--.sseenep as ou farses MRS. FANNIE B. WILLIAMS. .ccceccosess. Ss aPeececcade MRS. ZHEre Ro PAGE. 3: i.e Rcaavsteee dee cercse MRs. MARTHA ANN ICKS.) 2.22... acs sevecoe wee : THR GUIDE TO: SUCCHSS | aicesss eek osc on cee cues cesesis HON. FREDERICK DOUGEASSS*. 2.3.55. Neseaces ss EDUCATE YOURSELE.: fe...c>. od oetelossesearae ‘ee HONESTY 9 ence cd eee eee ivcageacweensewcea scaehe ks 6 ° SEEH-RELIANGCH. G.sp 5 cos esas. css. cee Bek ced PERSEVERANCE csecsecses oes Seung sores teas ercceeouavece FORCE OF ‘CHARACTER....c:ccccccosessceeeeese ierakeaces INDUSTRY AND THRIFT 3: ives » ti se 175,225 COPE ind ee st «AAT MOI. 6 ee A 8,300,511 dtd Lerritory 3s. 600,000 CORSO 3,900, 222 POU Si gs ae 18, 100, 528 RieIeSipOt ©. sk eu ER ACOs Wide eo kk 9,900,735 Michigan > A, 00, OOO PW POISGV 5) Se ce ws 3,300, 185 INGWHIDTIPSHIIG 5 5 4 4 300,125 Virginia et Gy aN 4,900,000 Oe Sei se a 7,900,325 Pontisyivatia =. 4-3 Se se 2 1S, 300,088 eee ANe ee ge ek 18,010,545 MUSEU 5g ek 1,100,371 Washington . 573,000 yO e a os 231,115 The total amount of property owned by the race is $263,000,000, showing a sur- prising growth in the accumulation of wealth. This report, which is an underestimate has been accepted as a most remarkable showing. It is an underestimate by at least ten millions. For instance, in the State of Virginia, according to the report of the Auditor of Public Accounts, the Afro- American property in the State was valued at $9,425,578. This is over four million and a half more than the above table. In Texas the property interests of the Afro-Americans are estimated at twenty millions, two millions more than the above table gives. The Comp- troller of South Carolina informs the writerLHIRTY YEARS OF ADVANCEMENT. 27 that the figures above given for South Caro- lina are very much below the real estimate. With these corrections and one or two exceptions the figures are in the main cor- rect, and we should have an estimated wealth of not less than $275,000,000 for the Afro- American population of the United States. This added to church property would give $300,000,000. Until the failure of the Penny Savings Bank of Chattanooga, due to money loaned and inability to make collections, the Afro- Americans had five banking institutions. The remaining four are doing a splendid business. There are not less than thirty-five Building, Loan and Co-operative Associa- tions on a firm footing and doing legitimate business, subject to the regular state and cu municipal investigation. Lack of space pre- vents the details of the operations, assets and liabilities of each of these efforts. This has been accumulated in spite of the failure of the Freedmen’s Savings Bank. This bank was established under the Na- tional Government in 1866, with branch In this bank the colored people deposited in the five years offices in the different states. succeeding the war, nearly fifty-seven million dollars. As the result of bad management it failed in 1871, and the savings from the Negro’s scanty wages were thus largely swept away. The confidence thus shaken in the outset has never been entirely restored. Tradesmen and General Laborers. Until recent years the Afro-American has had a monopoly of the general trade labor of the South. the demand, and in many instances he has Of late skilled labor has been been driven out of the field, but in every southern city there are Afro-Americans who can do the best work in all trades. The writer knows of an instance in which a very large church was remodeled and a handsome pressed brick front was a part of the improve- ment. There could not be found in a city of 22,000 inhabitants, masons who could lay these brick satisfactorily. In response to a telegram four Afro-Americans were secured, and the front was completed. A more beau: tiful piece of work of its kind has not been done in the city. One of these men was a graduate of one of our best industrial schools. Supply of Skilled Labor. The dearth in recent years of our mechan- ics is due to age, infirmities and death of those who were taught the trades in slavery ; but the large and intelligent class of me- chanics, who are being sent out from our mechanical schools, men whose heads, hearts and hands are trained, is remedying the deficiency. Nearly 6,000 of our young people are enrolled in the Industrial depart- ments of the various Afro-American schools and it is a fortunate thing that nearly all of the large schools of the South now have their industrial departments. Rev. J. C. Hartzell, D.D., Secretary of the Freedman’s Aid and Southern Education Society, was heard once to say, “A man said to me, ‘I will tell you one thing, you cannot make a mechanic out of a Negro.’ I took a wheel out of my pocket and showed it to him. I said, ‘There came into our shop at Central Tennessee College, a black young man with no white blood in his veins, who had never seen such a machine before as that required to make this wheel. The manager had a lot of these wheels to make. This wheel must be made very exact; there must not be the least variation in any of its parts. The manager asked the young man if he could make wheels, and he said he would try. He did try and cut twenty-six hundred of these cogs before he made a variation. IJ7 oe eoker eee aT a eee a a eae al aba Tea ok A ce I aS as epee te eT ae Ba aa AION PA ld el ls AL ea Sy asad PERU RWWA = ‘ : f | ¥ oe oa if . we Ps TAM MSS had PSS a ACS DL Soe ee aE oe eS ec Ee 28 THIRTY YEARS OF ADVANCEMENT. wonder if there is any other wheel of the kind ever made bya Negro. We are proud, first, that we have such places, and second, because such places are filled up with black boys.” This was done in the school of Mechanic Arts, at Central Tennessee College, Nashville, Tennessee. From the same school the writer saw a ten inch telescope exhibited at the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church at Omaha, Neb., May, 1892. This telescope is now in the obser- vatory at Laurence University, Appleton, Wisconsin, having been built for that pur- pose. Three of the professors’ homes at Clark University, Atlanta, Ga., were built by the industrial students. Schools with Industrial Departments. The largest agricultural and industrial features are connected with the following schools: Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute, Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Bishop College, Central Tennessee, Claflin University, Clark University, Shaw University, Spellman Female Institute, Straight University, Talladega College, Tougaloo University, State Normal and Industrial School (Alabama) and others. These with others are yearly sending forth skilled iaborers who demand a consideration and can easily compete in all lines of indus- try, where prejudice does not debar them. Tuskegee Institute, situated in the heart of the “black belt” in Alabama was founded by Booker T. Washington, an Afro-American. From a small one-room beginning he has a school property there of twenty-one build- ings, and 1,400 acres of land, and this prop- erty is valued at $180,000. Of this school, Mrs. A. J. Cooper, in “A Voice from the South,” the ablest book yet written by a Negro, on the Negro, says: * In the heart of what is known as the ‘ Black Belt,’ of Alabama, and within easy reach of the great cotton plantations of Georgia, Mis- sissippi and Florida, a devoted young colored man ten years ago started a school with about thirty Negro children assembled in a comical looking shanty at Tuskegee. His devotion was contagious and his work grew; an aban- doned farm of 100 acres was secured, and that gradually grew to 640 acres, largely wood land, on which a busy and prosperous schoo: is located; and besides, a supply farm was added, of heavy rich land, 800 acres, from which grain and sugar cane are the main products. What Be-omes of Them. “Since I881, 2,947 students have been taught here, of whom 102 have graduated, while 200 more have received training to fit them to do good work as teachers, intelligent farmers and mechanics. The latest enroll- ment shows girls, 247; boys, 264,. Of the 102 graduates, 70 per cent. are teachers, ministers and farmers. They usually com- bine teaching and farming. Three are print- ers (learned the trades at school), one is a tinner, one a blacksmith, one a wheelwright, three are merchants, three are carpenters, others are in the professions or filling miscel- laneous positions.”’ The following statement from one of the leading journals of Washington, entitled, “Farms of Negroes; Nearly all of them are Free from Debt,” is of interest as showing that the colored race are capable of thrift and good business management: “It is an interesting fact that of all the homes and farm property in the United States that which, is the least incumbered by mortgages is owned by colered women inthe South. The statis- tics of the census office shows that 27.97 per cent. of all the homes and farm property in the country is mortgaged—that is, aboutTHIRTY YEARS OF ADVANCEMENT. 72 out of every 100 homes and farms are free of incumbrance. The percentage of property owned by colored men without mortgages is 88.58, and the percentage owned by - colored women without mortgages is 92.26—that is of all the farms and homes owned by women in the United States 36,831 rom debt, and only Yhis percentage colored are free 3,050 carry mortgages. great deal better than that of the white race, either men or women. The percentag by the entire iS a e of mortgaged property owned Negro population is only 10.71 —that is, less than eleven homes and farmis owned by Negroes in the United States out of one hundred are incumbered by as an evidence of the thrift of that nearly all debt, and the race it appears these mortgages represent deferred payments of purchase money. Farms and Homes. Of the 12,690,152 United 1,186,174 are occupied by pure blacks and 224,595 by mulattos. Of the full blooded Negroes 207,616 homes and farms in the states own thei 558 pay rent. Of and 167,923 rent. farms and homes and 978 the mulattos 56,672 own, 7,708 are 39,911 are women. The largest number of found, ind it is that the proportion of farms Of the Negro owners r¢ men and colored home owners of course, in the southern states, noticeable owned by Negroes in the South is much larger than the homes, wh’& the reverse is the case in the North. “Tt is also a fact that the proportion of Negro home-ownership in cities is much smaller than in the rural districts. The fol- 2Y No. of free farms and homes. No. of mortgaged farms States. and homes, North Atlantic 5,808 3,921 South Atlantic 107,084 8,032 Northern Central 20, 060 9,691 Southern Central TOO, 591 7,608 | (Westerisy 7, 62 % I, 204 289 Total 234,747 29,541 Another institution founded by the race is the Provident Hospital, of Chicago. Preju- dice because of color has denied our doctors opportunity for practical surgical work, and refused our women who wish to become trained nurses, admittance to the young nospital training schools of the country. Out of this pital, necessity grew the Provident Hos- which is owned and managed by colored men. Patients of every color and treated by Afro-American nurses and physicians, and the cures there effected have attracted more tion in the all creeds are than local atten- world. The training school has graduated a number of nurses and has many more applicants for training than can be accomodated. medical All Kinds of Labor. As a general laborer, the Negro needs no He has built the railroads of the South, watered and nurtured its fields, beautified its cities, and caused the waste places to blossom as the rose. introduction. reclaimed its swamps, Besides what the race has accomplished as general laborers and skilled artisans, it has a ‘There e€ patents that have been granted to colored men, but these are sufficient to show that. the race 1s most creditable record in inventions. is not space here to enumerate all th lowing table shows the geographical divisions of Negro property free and incumbered, and | « : a sis the reader will be struck with the large pro- | portion of farms not mortgaged : granted for not deficient in mechanical invention. skilled Detroit, To one Elijah McCoy, of Mich., fifteen patents have been railway lubricating cups. mechanic alone, SS RR nC elie a hea e b | r : a , } ; i : , 4 ee ee eee ee Se ho EN GPL IM WE. Be _—s ’ae te 1 ; we ¢ m ee eae ay ca ical -a) ab ease a 0-22" ea ee ad ae H Bese hey, De Me PLAN PD lal SEE a tae ak PT NS et ae : i 4 ee — ho Ff & : . ‘i Cur PSS WD Cea ae eae ce a airs SPs Ne ah Sabato Phi Arro-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. CLERGYMEN AND CHURCHES. HE materials for illustrating the pro- gress of our race are so ample that one finds a difficulty in deciding where to begin. Turn whither we will, the eye discovers illustrious names, shining like galaxies in the firmament. In nearly all pursuits and professions the Afro- American has distinguished himself, and a great array of shining examples are thereby presented for the encouragement and inspira- tion of the great masses of our colored race, especially the young. When we consider the disadvantages under which our people have labored, the lowly life into which they were born, the little opportunity they have had for educating themselves until within the last few years, and the prejudice that has confronted them at every step, it must in truth be said that the progress they have made is the marvel and the miracle of modern times. If the Negro can accomplish so much in the face of such opposing forces, what might he not do under favorable conditions and circum-~ stances. Among the many names that give lustre to our Afro-American race, we place first of all the Bishops of various churches—noble, self-sacrificing, eloquent men, who, by their earning, their ability in the administration of church affairs, their oratorical pre-eminence and unsullied lives, have gained the highest position in the gift of the different religious bodies to which they belong. The sketches of these distinguished men here presented rose from poverty and obscurity to places of vast power and influence. From the lowly cabin they have come forth to stand among the great ones of the earth. The first to be mentioned is one who lived before the present generation, but whose noble work - still endures. BISHOP RICHARD ALLEN. This manly, dignified, staunch friend te the Afro-American race, and the founder an¢ promoter of the African Methodist Epis- copal faith, was born in Philadelphia in 1760, He united with the Methodist Church at the age of seventeen, and at twenty-two began preaching and travelled extensively thruugh the Middle States. His influence as an orator was great even in youth, and at the time of his conversion his master was so struck by his eloquence that he allowed him to preach to him, and was afterward converted under his preach- ing. It is open to doubt, however, as to whether or not the divine influence took entire possession of the white man, as Mr. Allen was obliged to purchase his freedom. Richard Allen was ordained deacon in 1799 by Rt. Rev. Francis Asbury, Bishop of the Methodist Church. At the organiza- tion. of the A. M. FE. Church, A. D. 1816, he was elected the first African Bishop in America. In withdrawing from the church in which he was refused the respect that was his due as a man and an humble and zealous worker for the cause of Christ, he took a furnish lessons of weighty meaning. They / step that was new and fraught with dangers 30AFRO-AMERICAN -PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. that cannot, at this time, be fully estimated; but his friends, Rev. A. Jones, William White and D. Ginnings, stood his ultimate success is a matter of history. The growth of the A. M. E. Church is a splendid tribute to the Negro genius. Of all | the denominations under him a man of power. Its institutions and laws are the result of Negro genius, and also are the exhibition of his executive ability and abundant wisdom. When Richard manifested his faith in the future and declared himself no longer willing to have the body and blood of Christ prostituted by being withheld from him until his white brethren (?) were served, he put his foot on the neck of hell-born preju- dice, and from that moment a new era dawned for the Negro, and a new song was given to the angels in heaven. This was in the early days of 1816, when the times were not favorable to the expression of a dis- sent from anything a white man said or did in church or state. Bishop Allen is revered by the African Methodist Episcopal Church as the founder of their faith. Says one of their scholarly writers: “Tf Luther was the apostle of mind free- dom, and Wesley of soul freedom, then Allen was the apostle of human freedom or liberty of mind and body. If Luther's motto was, ‘The just shall live by faith,’ and Wesley’s, ‘The world is my parish, Allen’s was, ‘I perceive of a truth that God is no respecter of persons.’ The sons of Allen, through Bishop Pane, have formulated the sentiments of the three as follows: 31 ‘God, our Father; Christ, our Redeemet, and Man, our Brother.’” by him, and | | BISHOP HENRY McNEAL TURNER, | Dp kn | One of the most influential men in the the name of | United States was born near Newberry “Methodist,” white or black, it has seemed | to touch the heart of the Negro and make | Court-House, South Carolina, February 1, 1833. Though free born, owing to the Rev. RICHARD ALLEN, First Bishop A, M. E. Church. absence of a father’s care, he was deprived of many of the advantages accorded to boys of his age. He was bound out to the hard- est kind of labor in cotton fields and at the blacksmith’s trade until his manhood. He was possessed of a craving for know] edge, and having procured an old spelling book, an old white lady and a boy with whom he played taught him the alphabet and to spell as far as two syllables, but he ; : / : ; = * a rm) 4 ; : - 5 | : i : ' : : t | | ss ee ee ST ee ae Solan d = eae her ee el ae A = ae ee aN ad ee aeeee Ld ee eee eal ra A BM 0 0 1 es one De 0 Na NPL cI oe ee 4 : i ; = z 5 | £ 3 Se : . a . | 4 a 4 eS Ar ea 52 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. got no farther then as he was discovered in the act. He found an old colored man who did not know a letter but was a prodigy in sounds and could pronounce anything spelled to him. This helper was removed to another plantation and he was again left to his own sesources. His mother hired a white lady to give him lessons every Sabbath but the neigh- bors were so indignant that they threatened to have the law on her, as it was then against the law to teach a Negro the alphabet. SS > Rev. Henry McN Bishop A. M. EK. Church. Three years from this time, at the age of fifteen, he was given work in a lawyer’s office, at Abbeyville Court House. The men in the office were impressed with his excellent memory and taught him, in defiance of the law, to read accurately his- tory, theology, and even works on law. He continued to pursue his studies alone, | and later went to New Orleans, thence to Mt stoRNER, D.D..LE.D: South Carolina, and still later to Baltimore | where he had charge of a small mission. | heard to say: “I am going to preach Here he studied grammar, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, German and theology under emi- nent private teachers. He joined the M. E. Church, South, in 1848, while but a boy and was licensed to preach in 1853. He was ordained deacon in 1860, ordained elder in 1862, and was ordained Bishop in 1880. He received the title of LL.D. from the Penn- 1 sylvania University in 1672, and the de- sree of D.D. from Wilberforce University D in 1873. He was appointed United States Chaplain by President Lincoln in ‘863, and served faithfully through the war. After being mustered out, he was re- commissioned United States Chaplain by President Johnson, but gave up that place to work for the church and the race. He travelled and preached, building up schools iwnd churches all over the State. He wa: for several years Bishop of the A. M. & litical Church. He has held many po positions and as an orator has reaped an immense harvest of favorable comrnent and hearty praise. He was married to Miss Eliza Ann Peacher in 1856. His oratorical ability is wonderful. He has been considered by many one of the best, if not the very best orator of his class in the United States. Certain it is that he is forcible, eloquent and impres- sive, and has a pleasing and sympathetic address. BISHOP ALEXANDER WALTERS, DD: Rev. Alexander Walters, D.D., Bishop of the A. M. E. Zion Church, was born August 1, 1858, at Bardstown, Ky. At an early age he manifested deep concern about the Bible and Spiritual things, and was oftenAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. oo At the age of eight years a proposition | resulted in 175 conversions. was made by the teacher of his town, Mr. | Rowan Wickliffe, to the Trustee Board of | Sickness pre- vented him from remaining longer than one year in this charge, and he was sent from Chattanooga to Knoxville, where he met with the usual success and was transferred to New York City in 1888. Bishop Walters has been a member of the General Conference several times, and held the A. M. E. Zion Church, that he would teach, free of charge, any boy who might be | chosen by them to be educated for the min- istry. Young Walters was chosen. He remained in school four years, and at | twelve years of age joined the church. For | four years he worked in hotels and on steamboats at Louisville. In 1876 he moved to Indianapolis, Ind., and began the study of theology under private tutors. In 1877 he married Miss Kate Knox, of Indianapolis; was. li- ne A ee nee ey ote Sareea Se a | ad peensea to preach May, 1877; joined the Kentucky Annual Con- ference of the A. M. E. Zion con- nection, at Indianapolis, Septem- ber, 1878, and was sent from that conference to Croydon, Ky. He remained in this appoin‘ ment for two years, and wa ordained a deacon at St. Louis 4 | ) F : i 3 F i 7 ‘ in 1879, and was appointed t Cloverport, Ky., in 1880, where he remained one year. In 1881 he was appointed to the Fifteentl Street Church, Louisville. In 1882 he was elected secre- tary of his conference and treas- Rev. ALEXANDER WALTERS, DV.D., urer of Zion’s Banner. In 1883 sishop A. M. EK. Zion Church. He is the most popular and successful pastor who has ever held the pulpit of the A. M. E. church is the largest colored church in the | Zion Church. Bishop Walters, when chosen, West; in three years he was successful in | was the youngest member of the Board of raising $15,000 to liquidate a mortgage | Bishops. | | he was transferred to Stockton Street A. M. E. Zion Church, San Francisco, Cal. This | which has been on the church for many years | BISHOP BENJAMIN TUCKER TAN. In 1886 he was transferred to Tennessee | NER, A.M., D.D. and stationed at Chattanooga, where he | Without doubt, one of the brightest, began a revival on his first Sabbath which ! grandest, noblest men in the ranks of Negro tea . nn te 5 rey al a ay ee Semele) aber asa ok Nie CHC ce NEPA SEINE ELE PARAM EIR «Joie Ze TP nA thd ed PR ca Po PD li ad lad Ae bok ada ae: re . Ss : os 2 FA i ® a ee 4 * * DS y : a > | - 4 OF é a Hs # cy ns me P 2 @ g | : 34 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. Methodism is Dr. B. T. Tanner, the veteran journalist of the colored race. His fame has extended from the lakes to the gulf, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific. He was born in Pennsylvania, and was not a slave. He spent five years in study at Avery College, Alle- gheny City, Pennsylvania, where he paid his expenses by working at the barber’s Rev. BenjAMIN TucKER Tanner, A.M., D.D., Bishop A. M. E. Church. chair. At this time his father was dead, and he was obliged to care for his widowed mother. His whole nature was independent, for he | might have smoothed his path; but he pre- ferred to work and win. Mr. Avery, the founder of Avery College, offered to pay his expenses at ‘the college, but he refused. The feeling of independence prevented him. After spending one year at Avery College, he took a three years’ course at Western Theological Seminary. His birthaay being December 25, 1835, he was twenty-five years of age when he received his first appointment from Bishop D. A. Payne to the Sacramento Station in the California Conference. He did not fill the appointment because of the dis- tance and expense, and was “supply” for the Presbyterian Church of Washington, District of Columbia, for eighteen months. April, 1862, he unitea with the Baltimore An nual Conference, and was appointed to the Alex- ander Mission, E Street, Washington, D.C. In 1863 he was pastor to the Georgetown, D.C., Church, and in 1866 had charge of the “big Baiti- more,’ after resigning which charge he became principal of the Annual Conference School at Frederickstown, Md. His addresses showed thought, learning and rare gifts; so that when the General Conference met in the Nation’s Capi- tal in 1868, he was not only made chief sec- retary, but editor of the church organ—TZhe Christian Recorder—by acclamation, and this honored position was thrust upon him in succession until he had served sixteen years. In 1870 he was given the degree of A.M. at Avery College, and Wilberforce University conferred upon him the degree of D.D. sometime in the seventies.AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED, fn 1881 he visited England and Conti- nental Europe, and attended the Ecumenical Conference. His spare time was spent in writing books of use to his denomination, among which we mention “ The Negro’s Origin,” “An Apology for African Meth- odism,’’ “The Negro, African and Ameri- can,” and he is also editor of the 4. UE. Review since 1884. He is a member of the New England Historical Society of the M. E. Church, and fills many important stations in his own church. Dr. Arnett has said of Dr. Tanner: “ He has risen from a successful barber to be the king of Negro editors; his pen is sharper than his razor, and his editorial chair is finer than the barber chair. The church and race will ‘ong remember Dr. B. T. Tanner for the part he has taken in the reconstruction of the South and for his words of encouragement.” BISHOP BENJAMIN F. LEE, A.B., D. D. This remarkable man went to Wilberforce University as hostler, and was not allowed to sleep with the students; and in thirteen years became president of the University. Benjamin F. Lee was born at Gouldtown, New Jersey, September 18, 1841. His father died when he was ten years old, and in 1852 he began the battle of life alone, and since then has never spent more than six months together at the old homestead. He spent his winters in country schools until he was fifteen years old, and from that time until he was twenty-one he was em- ployed on farms and in factories, During this time he studied algebra and read many biographical and historical works. Being ambitious for more learning he entered Wilberforce University in 1864, where his recitations were confined to night Oo supported himself by working hard at all jobs he could secure during the day. In 1865 he entered as a regular student and finished in 1872, taking the degree of A. B. The only financial aid he received during his school life was about $178. He ofter: walked four to eleven miles during vacation to do a day’s work in the corn field or at harvesting. After becoming sufficiently advanced he taught school. During one period of six / Rev. BEenjAMIN F. Lee, A.B., D.D., Bishop A. M. EK. Church. months he taught school, worked Saturdays and at odd hours to pay his board, and kept up with his class at the college. He joined the church of the A. M. E. faith in 1862, and in 1866 was permitted to exhort. In 1868 he was licensed to preach, in 1870 was made deacon; in 1872 he was ordained an elder, and was appointed to the pastoral charge of the Salem circuit, including Salem, Ohio, and Bridgewater, Pennsylvania. In 1873 he was called from the charge o glasses for one year, during which time he . Frankfort, Kentucky, to which he had beer sy en poe ne NC ee NRE Ce EN ORO Se eae me r a RT ee : nel Ct onal a a : b ) Fé i ; PERG SniecninnSa pei —Dee see Tae LT ade sa mastic aidan asic Oe par Wein a iio 3 OT al tak $e BEA a APD oles Sot Aad eh AN SOE INSEL TAR” EO ENR CODA E « 1 = ke i Hi 7 4 S & fF. ee 3 rt Se 4 He ; - 4 ' oe ¢ ri ¥ kY a - ft LS, Rs P| i ) FA : 3 36 AFRO-AMERICAN PRO pe'nted at graduation, to occupy the chair or pastoral theology, homeletics and eccle~ siastical history at Wilberforce, which posi- tion had been made vacant by the resigna- fiomeer Professor 1. HH. Jackson. He re- mained here two years, and then took charge of the A. M. E. Church in Toledo, Ohio. Ty 1876 he was called to the presidency ee == ), \\\ cE eo X \\ \\ NN \\ 7 \\ \ ble AANA Ry AKA . We RR oe ‘ Ta S ete \ ah A \ Z Wake ah Nan) Vranas AN \ AN . a A ‘ \ MEEK Sy . * \ ¢ + ge x 4 . \ x . \ \ YY OEE 3 BEE “ oe Rev. JAMES ANDERSON Hanpy, D.D., Bishop A. M. E. Church. of Wilberforce College by the resignation of Bishop Payne. He filled this office for eight years and exerted a far-reaching influ- ence over the hundreds of young men. At the expiration of eight years he was elected by the General Conference of the A. M. E. Church editor of the Christian Recorder, the official organ of that body. He has filled many positions of honor and trust under the A. M. E. General Convention. GRESS ILLUSTRATED. It was said of President Garfield that he went “from the towpath to the White House,” and it may be said of the subject of this sketch that he went from a_hostler’s place to a college president's chair, where he became the Nestor of all active Afro-Ameri- can Christian educators, distinguished i position, yet conspicuous in modesty, BISHOP JAMES ANDERSON HANDY, D.D Rev. James A. Handy was botn in Baltimore, Md., December 22, 1826. Notwithstanding all the dis- advantages he labored under, he was industrious, honest and studious, As he advanced in years, he advanced also in knowledge of men and things, He was a leader in the societies when a young man. He is one of the leading Masons in the United States. Some years after his marriage he was converted and joined the Bethel Church, Baltimore. In 1862 he was recommended to the Baltimore An- nual Conference. At the close of the conference he was appointed to Ports- mouth, Va. He planted the A. M. E. Church there, and established day and night schools. In 1868 he was elected corre sponding secretary of the Parent Home and Foreign Missionary So- ciety In 1878 he was appointed presiding | elder over the Baltimore District, which position he filled acceptably until 1883, when he was appointed pastor of the Metro- politan Church, Washington, D. C: In 1888 the General Conference at Indian apolis, Ind., elected him financial secretary. He filed the office so well that at Philadel phia, May, 1892, he was elected Bishop and ordained in the same month. The MetroAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED, potitan Church will stand as a lasting monu- | slaves. ment to his financial ability and re as a business man, as well as a minister of aa v8 Luord Jesus Christ hous*> REV. JOHN T. JENIFER Rev. John Thomas Jenifer was born in Jpper Marlboro, Prince George County, Md., March 10, 1836, in the Tyler family. His In 1859 he went to New Bedford, Mass., to live with his father who, in 1841, went | there on the “ underground railroad.” Here John studied two years with a purpose of parents John H. and Ca*harine Jenifer were | entering mercantile business, but being moved At the age of eighteen John was putation | carried by his owners to Baltimore where he served as under clerk in several dry goods . 5. oe eee . a Pe ee ae ¢ fs 7 5 : «% ; . ri 4 a 4 a! ¥ I “ P| 4 P| A , ; a 4 4 4 rs : 4 5 i 4 ; e A 3 a 6 ‘A aS ry 4 4 | : | ; 1 ‘ 4 : | s ;mer ee ee 5 Petia Nk a SL Tee ed Oe acs, a brads Mine aA PAN PU aad le hed eht Poor nel ae Bet ee aaa sata ea ak Pe Ld tals ed i 2 : . 8 . :& g ae A of ae 2 ee et . | ® ey $ i ‘ e ah ot Sa ROR RE Tee 38 , AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. to enter the Gospel ministry, he went to Cali- fornia so as to obtain the means to go to a school of larger learning. He served a church at Sacramento City one year, Placer- ville Circuit, where he built a church, taught the district colored school, helped to organ- ize the California Annual Conference, was one of the secretaries, and from which he was assigned to Virginia City Station, Neb. s SEEN OSS Sta SRRARR ANN SS DOOD A SERRA WRK RAMAAW S WXQaQAnnk . MAA eS ie rh SRanwy en SS SS“ \ QO S\N /] 1) WW feiss SS S RQQSSSASS Rev. JoHN THOMAS JENIFER, Pastor Metropolitan A. M. E. Church, Washington, D. C. Having saved $1000, he returned home, went to Wilberforce, Ohio, studied five years, gtaduated in 1870, went to Ar- kansas where he served the Little Rock Eaarse two terms of four years: each, erected a fine church at a cost of $22,000, served on the examining committee of the public schools, and served Pine Bluff Church two years. After remaining ten years in the South, he was transferred by Bishop John M. Brown 333 . He HH. Ss RRS ; aA b. LHS \ ESSN : 3 7 h ,) | 4 2 : 4 I PY i | 4 : Ps stand stil Ean hn Spt WK Hon he allen > Ss a Rev. Henry HIGHLAND GARNETT, D.D., Late U. S. Minister to Liberia. purchased four lots, erected four buildings | for worship, suffering the destruction of two | church buildings by fire, removed eight | | times, and under the Methodist itinerant | The auditorium of the church which was nothing but bare walls and naked floors was tors. some of them being scholarly men and | converted into as fine a church as any in the ~ wes - > a able preachers and divines. Yet, through custom, has had twenty-four changes of pas- : i nel a ee . | connection, and ranks with any church in the all these vicissitudes they have kept in ad | city of Chicago, without regard to the de-Pe re re eee a al Oe iain? Onis <3 : a : . : f ca 4 i ee 4 . A . oe a : . 3 .: - 3 oe * ft y 5 _¥ i é ® oe - Be : ¥ oa ) LA Pr: MOS 44 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. nomination. The great pipe organ and the sun burners add a great deal of beauty to the place and the sanctuary, which is built in the shape of a semi-circle, is very beautiful, and besides this the pews and all the rest of the furniture are of the highest order of excellence. On the whole it is indescribable, and for a person to appreciate the same it must be seen. A great victory has been achieved not only by the A. M. E. connection, but by the Afro- Americans of Chicago in general, and the people of other places will join in the triumphant praise. REV. HENRY HIGHLAND GARNETT, D.D. This celebrated preacher and states- man was born in slavery in Kent County, Md., December 23, 1815, but his father, by the aid of Thomas Gar- rett, a Quaker, succeeded in bringing him and the other members of the family to freedom. They lived for « time in Bucks County, Pa., but so moved to New York, where ne studiec for a while in the Mulberry Stree School. He was obliged by the poverty ot his faroily to work as cabin boy, anc afterward endeavored to gain an edu- cation, but was unsuccessful until he went 9 the Oneida Institute at Whites- boro. He graduated in 1839, and, as he had in te meantime lost his family through the slave hunters, he settled in Troy. He studied theology diligently, and in £842 was licensed to preach and became pastor of the Liberty Street Church, with which church he remained for ten years, publishing the Clarion. He was pastor of | the Shiloh Presbyterian Church of New York for twenty-six years, and only resigned this charge to go to Liberia as resident minister, | He did not live long after sailing, but he has left an example for others of his race that should be followed. He was an elo- quent and charming speaker, and, although a cripple for life, this only seemed to add to the brilliancy of his mind. REV. RICHARD DeBAPTIST, D.D. This well-known clergyman is a man of mark, of whom Fredricksburg, Va., may Rev. RicHarpD DeBaptisr, D.D. well be proud. He was born November 11 1831, and received a fair education in Vir- ginia under the guidance of his father and in secret. He was ordained to the ministry at Mount Pleasant, and taught public school for colored youth in this place for three years. Here he first exhibited those sterling traits of character which have since distinguished him and placed him in the front rank. He was pastor of the Baptist Church in Mount Pleasant for four years, and then tookal AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. 45 the pastorate of the Olivet Baptist Church ot Chicago, which charge he held from 1863 to 1882. | New York City. His father was an African | prince and his mother was a free woman. At an early age he entered the Mulberry Street School in New York, and in 1831 attended a school which had been founded for the During this time he built two church edifices, at a cost of $33,000, and brought into membership more than 1700 persons. _| He has held the position of Corresponding | purpose of giving advantages to the colored secretary of the Wood River Association | youth for the study of the classics. ever since his election in 1864, and was | The instructions were not what met with President of the Baptist Mission four years. | the approval of his parents and he was He has been editor of several religious and! sent to Canaan, N. H. Here he stayed "eee but a few months when he was LISS forced to leave on account of race troubles. In 1836 he entered the Oneida Institute and remained three years. \ - a - F a S ae WX. ae , : Fr r “ ‘ s eee BO ee ner ee ae a ee ee re He was received as a candidate for holy orders in 1839 by Rev. Peter Williams, and was admitted to priestly orders by Bishop Lee of Delaware. Afterward he was able to enter and graduate from Queen’s College, Cambridge, England, and went to Africa, where he achieved sreat success aS a missionary. In 1862 he published a valuable col- lection of addresses which are fitting evidences of his simple, touching ; oi f | | | | faith, his intense personality, and devoted Christian spirit. PMS nT ine nem REV. ALLEN ALLENS WORTH, A.M. The subject of this sketch was born of slave parents, in Louisville, Ky, April 1855 to Miss Georgiana Brische of Cincin- | 3, 1843. He evidenced a thirst for knowl- nati, Ohio, but lost her November 2, 1872. | edge at an early age. When the Ely Nor- He was married again in 1885 and his wife | mal School was established in Louisville, he died in 1886, leaving him with three children. | was its janitor and among its first pupils. secular periodicals. He was married in While serving as a missionary in Kentucky, he was appointed by President Grover Cleve- | land to the chaplaincy of the Twenty-fourth Tl... prominent representative of the | United States Infantry. He was selected by Protestant Episcopal Church was born in ‘ the Republicans as an elector on the Garfield REV. ALEXANDER CRUMMEL, A.B. D.D. Fe a ete al a ead a3 a BLAS i det Py ss » e m re. ee ee ad ea een eal ex ok ce Hc ti eg 9 ONIN NES it i et TN i We Ten wy ao om I py TEP SINTERS ENA T NNR HE 4 ae! ae : © . t . i _ Be: s » s fe a 2 46 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. and Arthur ticket. Recognizing his success in life, and appreciating his course as a Chris- tian and a man of scholastic habits, the Roger Williams University conferred upon him the honorary degree of Master of Arts. Mr. Allensworth furnishes another striking illustration of what may be accomplished by a young man in humble life who has the right kind of stuff in him, who is studious, reliable and determined to succeed. In every responsible position he has shown himself to be master of the situation, and has gained the confidence and respect of the entire com- munity. REV. PIERRE LANDRY. The subject of this sketch, who stands first among the colored citizens of Ascension Parish, Louisiana, by reason of his abilities and the prominence of the position in life they have given him, was born on the plant- ation of the late Dr. F. Provost, opposite Donaldsonville, April 19, 1841, and was reared by Pierre Damas Bouziac and Zaides, his wife, free people of color. The boy was sent to a school on the plantation, conducted by Mrs. Reno for the benefit of free colored children, and was later taught the trade of confectioner and pastry cook. At the Provost succession sale, May 16, 1854, young Landry was offered to the highest bidder, and became the property of the late M. S. Bringier, one of Ascension’s wealthiest sugar planters, the purchase price being $1,665. The boy was at once installed as chief pastryman of the Bringier mansion, and was subsequently appointed superin- tendent of the yard and the servants charged vith its care. Some time afterwards he formed a com- mercial partnership with the chief butler, Joseph Burbridge, and they conducted a store on the plantation, dealing in such arti- cles as they were permitted to sell to the other slaves. The latter were entitled to one pint of molasses each per day, and were privileged to trade at the store to the extent of this allowance, which, by an arrangement with the overseer, remained in the sugar- house subject to the orders of the firm. A moss-press, broom factory and wood yard were also established in connection with the store, and the work of plantation ditch- ing by contract carried on, the principals dealing with the overseer and sub-letting contracts to the plantation hands. After a prosperous career the firm of “Joe and Rev. ALLEN ALLENSWORTH, A.M.., Chaplain United States Infantry. Caliste” was dissolved by mutual consent in 1862. Young Landry early developed a taste for mechanics, and in 1860 obtained his release from house and yard duty and _ served apprenticeships under Mr. Ursin Boudreaux, head carpenter of the plantation, and Mr. James Lear, the well-known and _ skillful engineer and machinist. He remained on the plantation until 1866, having made three futile efforts to enter the army, and in that year moved across the river to this town, where he has maintained his domicile ever since.Sa we Le AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. At the Annual Conference at New Orleans, January 14, 1891, Mr. Landry was appointed Presiding Elder of the South New Orleans District by Bishop John P. Newman, D.D., LL.D., and was continued on the same VY mission by Bishop Mallalieu, D.D., at the last session of the Louisiana Conference at New Orleans, January 13, 1892. At the same session he was elected one of the three ministerial delegates to the General f my yy Conference which met at Omaha, May | Wf i 7 to 31, 1S02. 4} County, Mo. His father died at a hospital during the war, and when Augustus was seven years old his mother with two other | children started out to liberate herself and if, Y Rev. Mr. Landry is an incorporator and member of the Board of Trustees of the New Orleans University, one of the lead- ing institutions for the education of colored youths in this country, and deservedly enjoys the confidence and esteem, not only of the people of his own race, but of all classes, wherever he is known. Mr. Landry has been greatly aided in his important work by the kind counsel and wise efforts of the two noble women i t 3 4 rs é rr 4 $ B rt a * 4 F ta cs ee a 7 | i ry 54 J rm i 7 5 ‘4 f f } * i HW a3 rs ” ‘ i a 4 ry Pr s j F s ' S who have been united to him in marriage. His family is a remarkable one, not merely in size but in other ways. In complying with our request to furnish some facts con- nected with his successful career, he writes: [ae ne he = “T am the father of sixteen children— two dead; was twice married, first to Miss Amanda Grigsby, of Ascension, who died December, 1883, and again to Miss Florence A. Simpkins, of Mansfield, La., ‘in 1886. “By the grace of God, I have beeu abe to give a liberal education to my children, ‘i Be Ae ae ee 6a as and am still doing so. Five of them are REv. AUGUSTUS TorTon, : First Afro-American Catholic Priest. married and are prosperously engaged in educational and other pursuits.” children. She travelled on foot through many dangers until she reached Quincy, Ill. Here Augustus was reared, and from the The first and only Afro-American Catholic | age of seven to nineteen he worked in a priest was born April 1, 1854, in Ralls | tobacco factory, studying all his spare time. me eas a eanae ee - REV. AUGUSTUS TOLTON. eeei i ae - ne ee er een rastenl Hsia iP Be has SaaS Soa re ecb fo he ne BE Mah LAAN) lots eet eat ia ser al-iae Et dale bab Ee RAR, at ii a ht Page ae aaah hae Oe Ea acer 7 Le Seen oe eee Cet Ra Gee chasse Rema RC ACW PAREN ES i hea 2a halo se. ra Be We Misheard Sis CD ee Cee 48 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS PELUS PRATED. In 1872 his health failed, and, following the advice of friends, he stopped work at the factory and gave his time to study. He attended a Catholic school for a time, but race troubles drove him from there to a non- Catholic institution. Father McGirr, hearing of it, at once opened his school to colored children. Augustus pursued his studies, with the aid of Catholie friends, until, through the Rev. PRESTON TAYLOR. influence of Father Meichal Reinhardt, he secured admission to the Propaganda Coi- lege, Rome, where he entered the priest- hood. Father Tolton is a man of sterling worth and a scholar of rare intelligence. He has met with many difficulties, but has overcome all obstacles, dignifying every position he has held by hi manly bearing, his earnest and enthusiastic spirit and con- spicuous abilities. REV. PRESTON TAYLOR, was born of slave parents on November 7, 1849, at Shreveport, La. He was taken to Georgia at the age of one year. He served +n the war as drummer boy and afterwards learned the stonecutter’s trade, but was una- ble to secure employment on account of prejudice. He worked as porter on a railroad train for four years, and was so well liked by his employers that at the expiration of that time he was given a pass for an extended trip which he took through the North. Re- turning he took the pastorate of the Christian Church, of Mt. Ster- ling, Ky., which position he occu nied for fifteen years. He was also chosen Genera Evangelist of the United States for this faith, Mr. Taylor has written for many periodicals and is an influential Mason and Odd *ellow, holding state offices in both lodges. His headquarters are at Nashville, Tenn., where he has the pastoral oversight of the Gay Street Church. Mr. Taylor is an enterprising business man, having in connec- tion with his sacred calling acted in the capacity of railroad contrac- tor, understanding fully that there is nothing derogatory to the ministry in secula?z pursuits if carried on in the right spirit, while | the gains thus acquired are used for benevo- lent purposes. For rare ability, honest dealing, kindly spirit and everyday usefulness, he is 2 bright example, and does credit to his race REV. EMPEROR WILLIAMS. Rev. Emperor Williams was born a slave in 1826, in the family of General GainesFROM HIS LATEST PHOTOGRAPH PROF. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON FOUNDER OF TUSKEGEE INDUSTRIAL INSTITUTE, ALABAM 4 : 4 Fr | a 5 eee ee ee a | ct ie a at choad a See ear . a er ee a Se eS ae —— ene ad eet mee Pere aDae oP eh LL NPD da cot el ehh aoe Lack pee Ee ee le sa a ala Pd ae oe ese reece Paget at la ah AIM Wide Stal ee paws oe eet onto Fae Laren Heaier aa ean eee MMU eee Oa a eeoletale Tak tect 1 Saint ai Arpt Sion peas Ma genes Sees LN. LINCO RAHAM ~~ Al STOWE, VR CHE AA 4 HE 4a BE 1 Author of ‘‘ Uncle Tom’s C a “ HARRIE iR, ’) 4 SUMNI CHARLES abin.?® ‘ c itionist. “The Abol ARITY FOR ALL AND MALICE TOWARD NONBE.’’ CH ‘* WITHae A ee - v7 gt F : 7 : +. a eee ee MME. DESSERIA PLATO ONLY COLORED SINGER AT THE WORLD’S FA\Rbrass Me We she he a eee moods Coan wiuade Seniaitarenteaiee ters Et ad EL ey SaaS eeee | id ‘ co Wee SS eee axe oee ee - ee eS Me *» .*& nae eam Ss ee NC S } 4 : i ; | oes ‘ anes a ey pe aia ers ee reYomiia Pete eer Bald LL DRGs Stak salad: A Low Be Ah LAA LPN tad ele at De Lehn ah ose Kash oa ni LORE ALANA BOIL Wo Toney Genie aa aed ee He iaaLco sees eae cd haciendo acta ne Coste toate onload Ls eae ES WAITING FOR THE MINISTER The Bridegroomad a a Ua oS re es One | | | es 5 - a eee eS ee Es ar ee oe ee ra ied 8 : 4 x : , 4 i ee a tae JOHN G. JONES OF CHICAGO THIRTY-THIRD DEGREE MASON. HIGHEST COLORED MASON THE UNITED STATES IN aw ere eS nel en a eae eel , at aosSORTLNE RE WAN Be Fe Seed 2 4 : . & aan i i Fe : . ; Rc puis HasbiL aL alee Sir pet AAS Aa ear a se acai am aa eich oP Ne a} GA BROWN COLLEGE. ATLANTA, MORRISAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS LELUST RATED: 43 Nashville, Tenn. He went to Louisiana in 1839, and was sold toa negro for $600, in i840, who treated him badly. in I84I His master gave hima seventy-five dollar suit of clothes and a nice cane, and said: He was sold | “Go and preach until you die; I am tired of to James MacIntosh, a builder. | you and your God bothering me any more.” Williams was a master mason, and from 1846 | dying, he sent for iams and told him that slavery was wrong and bade him good-bye. | Afterwards, when to 1858 was the trusted foreman of his owner. | Wil] He joined the church in 1845, and had been promised his freedom for years, and that! In 1866 the Methodist Episcopal Church boon came in | was organized in New Orleans, and Emperor master had a difficult piece of | Williams was one of the Original twelve. A and none of the white men he has been presid ‘ould put it up. 1858 under peculiar circum- stances. His cornice work large portion of his time Williams said he could, md his master replied that if he did he Should have his freedom. He took the plans of the difficult piece of work and laid them on the floor of his cabin and studied them all night, until he got every part per- fectly in his mind and the next day took his gang of men and accomplished his diffi- culttask. The promise was redeemed and our friend was a free man. In 1849 he married a slave woman, who was, like him. self a remarkable character, After he was free he offered $2000 in gold for his wife, but her owners would not sell her. Not long after, in 1862, Butler took New Orleans, and Emperor Williams cot his wife for nothing, and tock his money and bo ucht a home. OO He had Learned to Write. Rev. EMPEROR WILLIAMS. While a slave Williams sometimes car- ried a pass written by himself, which was as ing elder. He was a member of the Gen- follows: eral Conference in 1866. “Permit the boy, Emperor, to pass and He is a man of great natural ability, repass, and oblige, Mr. WILirams.” thoroughly trustworthy and impartial in his ‘ Toile : ANC a 7 His master, whose name was Williams, | judgment of men and measures. When saw it, and the following colloquy took place: | ground was broken for the new university “Where did you learn to write like that?” | building, on St. Charles avenue, in New Orleans, he was one of the speakers. He is not a fluent speaker, except occasionally in times of great enthusiasm, and when deeply moved the few words he utters make a pro- “While I was collecting your rent, sir.” ‘‘My name is that.” “No, sir; that is not your name, but mine. ¢ would not commit a forgery.” ey Pe ee ieee . ee ™ ea eet Sa a aid ad ~ ew Le ‘ a7 : a a PY r ) i I oy s ; 5 3 A J a ; ay : a 4 a ; L ; ‘ 4 ; a $ 4 i * F a . ; ‘ ; Pt | : | ; I | ood — ee ae(ete Ck eer Ty on eae) abewamhne a. yea: Cee as aA Ae) ARR PAAR PD ald ala AL bea : ' of = i , =: } ae : ; ~ B : =e 4 eek * ¥ Ps # 5 x bz) 4 3 Di 50 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. found impression. Here are some of his sentences on that memorable occasion. Lift- ing his hands to the heavens he said : “Tl wonder if this is the world I was born in. For twenty years I was a slave on these streets. It was a penitentiary, offence to educate a Negro. I have seen my fellow ser- vants whipped for trying to learn, but to- day, here Iam on this the greatest avenue in this great city, with the Bishops and the elders and people of the Methodist Episcopal Church, speaking at the breaking of ground, where a building is to be erected for the education of the children of my people. I wonder if this is the world I was born in.” REV. WILLIAM D. JOHNSON, D.D., Secretary Board of Education. William Decker Johnson was born March 19, 1842, in Calvert County, Md., and at an early age removed with his parents to Balti- inore, where he attended private schools. | American, Au He was converted in 18C1, and the same year, by Bishop A. W. Wayman, received license to exhort. In 1862 he entered Lin- coln University, Pennsylvania, craduating as valedictorian in 1868. He was the favorite student of the Hon. William E. Dodge, of New York, who educated hundreds _ of young people for Christian work. Dr. Johnson had been for sixteen years pastor of various churches, when in 1884 the General Conference at Baltimore elected him secretary of education. He at once organized the department, and has_ been twice re-elected to the position for terms of four years. Bishop Atticus G. Haygood, D.D., LL.D., speaking of his management, saya. + None than most men, he grasps a great problem. His plans are great, but not chimerical. His methods look to the long run, and, with God’s favor, will issue in blessings to the whole people.” Mr. Nor- man W. Dodge, son of the Hon. William E. Dodge, says: ‘Rev. William D. John son has been well known and much esteemed by our family for years. My father took a particular interest in him, and helped him i» his good work at different times.” A Born Orator. Mr. Johnson has many such recommenda tions, which have been of great service in the educational work. While at college he developed consider- able power as a speaker, and has ever since continued on the same line. Zhe Nashville cust 2, 1884, speaking of him, says: “Heisa born orator, and a man of superior literary attainments.” He has spoken with acceptance in the | Y. M. C. A. halls in Philadelphia and New York, in the Sam Jones Tabernacle at Cartersville, Ga.; Dr. Talmage’s Tabernacle, | Brooklyn, N. Y.; before the UnitarianAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS PEEU ST RA ED: 51 National Conference at Saratoga, N. Y.. and | ington, Ind., in the last two places attending ~ . ~ - is the Centennial Conference of Metl to the pastoral work of the church while Baltimore, Md. His serving as principal of the school. In 1882 he united with the Indiana A. 10dism at | greatest effort was | made when a delegate from his cl | the General Conference of the M. E. Church South, = sitting in Atlanta, Ga. | That address, bearing on 1urch to | the race problem, was copied into all the news- papers and translated into several foreign languages. Mr. Johnson has at dif- ferent times represented his work in the National Edu- cational Association and the American Association of Educators of Colored Youth. During the World’s Fair he read papers before the religious and educa- tional congresses, and also delivered an address in the Hall of Columbus, Art Pal- ace, Chicago, on the Negro Klement of the American People. REV. D. A. GRAHAM. This noted divine was born in Princeton, Ind.. sanuaty. ri, 1861. His father was born a slave in Tennessee, but came to Indiana and settled in the early days of that State, where he became one of oe . : ST. PauL’s CHurcH, CoLumsus, O. the most influential Afro- Americans in that vicinity. M. E. Conference at New Albany, Ind.. under Bishop’ James A. Shorter. After serving four years in the Young Graham was the first Afro-Ameri- tan youth graduated in the town of his “ativity. He first followed teaching for six years in Princeton, Washington and Bloom- pastorate in Indiana he was sent to Michigan by Bishop Campbell, and was one of the charter mem. 3 re are ne a ee a al ee ee wh pas ee es Cie “ - 7 . {eeu C o . a Ls Sl ate : ete ee PRP BAF ~? 4 Pt o j a é A 4 , I rf ‘ | 7 s ‘ eS a ai 8 ast fo, Perse ere ad ea canal beast Tn Ae Le Fee On PT aL ak ol aca alae a ah a ae IW EEN EOE PENCE = JZ ie ; 1 i : .. 2 § 4 © Fi 5, 3 ES ee i # 4 os kK : - Zz é rh a M4 : og EY . a ee 53 Ft | x 4 me ee o2 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. bers of the Michigan Conference. His four years in that State were a brilliant success, and it is the common verdict that he was the Rev. D. A. GRAHAM. most popular Afro-American preacher ever located in Michigan. The famous temper- ance lecturer, Mrs. Lucy Thurman, several times stated this fact publicly, during her BETHEL CHURCH, CHICAGO. work in Chicago. He was alike popular with white and colored, on the platform, as well as in the pulpit. From Michigan he was transferred by Bishop Brown to Minneapolis, and stationed at St. Peter’s. The minutes of the Michigan Conference describe his departure from that body in Saginaw as being like a funeral, so dearly was he beloved by the entire con ference, When Bishop Wayman was looking fora pastor for Bethel Church, Chicago, he con- cluded that Elder Graham could fill the bill. His appointment was a great surprise ta Rev. M. C. B. Mason. every one, and especially to himself. So young a man had never pastored Bethel, nor any of the churches of equal rank in the connection. But his success has been almost phenomenal, both spiritually and financially, and Bethel has never had a pastor whose influence was so potent, nor of whom she was so proud, REV. M. C. B. MASON, A.M., B.D. Rev. M. C. B. Mason, A.M., B.D., Field Agent Freedmen’s Aid and Southern EducaAFRO-AMERICAN FROGRESS' ILLUSTRATED. tion Society, was born a slave in I. ouisiana. As soon as an opportunity offered he began to study. He took the ful] classical course in the New Orleans University, and the theo- logical course at Gamon Theological Semin- ary, Atlanta, Ga. He is a forcible speaker and is good work for the society. Such men indicate the possibilities of the race. Tens of doing thousands who will die in obscurity would have done equally well if they could have had the advantages of an education. REV. JULIAN FRANKLIN MAR- SHALL. The Baton Rou lige District, Louisiana, has made a splendid record, due mainly to the energy and intelligent work of its able and painstaking presiding elder. Mr. Marshall was born in Virginia in 1847, but has lived since his second year in Louisiana. He was blessed with a pious praying mother religious instructions have been stimulant to him all whose a constant through his life. He has always been studious, a lover of good books and blessed witha splendid memory ; he has performed a prodigious amount of literary work. Indeed, he may be reckoned among the ablest ministers of the church. From 1877, the year in which he was into the Louisiana Conference, he has ably and successfully filled some of the most admitted important appointments bounds—Alexandria, within its cifts, 53 REV BA, J. NIXON, B.D. The following in brief are the positions that have been held by this well and educator: Tennessee; Pre -known preacher Twenty years teacher in sident, Turner High School, Tenn.; Trustee, Turner High Trustee, Wilbeoree University, Wilberanee Ohio; Member, General Educa- tional Board, A. M. Connection ; Presi- ding ‘Hider, “Columbia AM. F- Nashville, Tenn. Shelbyville, School ; District, He is a man of fine presence and varied REv. A. Jy Nixon, Wh Zealous, devoted and thoroughly educated, he has exerted a wide influence and in a marked degree commands the re- a i New Or- leans ; and in the office of presiding elder since 1886 he has vice. He was a deleg Conference of 1888 aud was chosen by Bishop-Elect J. P. Newman, D.D., ane! excellent ser- rate to the General to repre- stone was laid June 24, spect of all associated with him. ST. PAUL’S A. M. CHURCH Raleigh oi. @ This edifice cost $32,000. The corner- sent the General Conference in of his consecration. the services In all the positions he has filled he has rendered excellent service, | S and has been highly esteemed. | slate roof. 1884. The dimen- sions are 65 by 97 feet, with chapel on west side. The chapel, 40 by 6s feet, contains abbath-school and class-rooms, all under The chapel is a part of the main on re hs a eo at A ae ne ae Pe re s . Dail Ny ee ae - ee oe eel eee anal _ 3 | : | : a =rene <7 : a y ‘ : ; M Pl F re any na cela aba Te Meee ee RR AO Ne i ee en i as Sibel OTe bad We Palast a et aD a LEAT i ot F ; 2 - . : Cuts Becht DENS Mes Saba PSG ACS WD SL aE oe SEIN Sie oS a 54 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS feu RALED. building, and can be used in times of large | REV. JOHN JASPER. | The theory that the sun moves has been | con 1gregations. theory of Mr. This large and commodious building | advanced by many, but the Jasper differs from that of nearly every other by being advanced as a Bible argument. Rev. John Jasper was the youngest of twenty-four children, and was born on the Fourth of July, 1812, in the County of Fluvanna, Va. He began his career as cart boy, but was soon made house boy, and further dignified by the promotion to table waiter, tending garden in his reflects great credit upon the congregation, —— spare time. He hired himself out to work by the year and continued in this kind of service for several years. He was always of an astronomical turn of mind, and if he had had the advantage of education, would, doubt- less, have made one of the foremost L ee hs scientists of the times. He was con- Ses sulle | verted in 1539, and began preaching. He was very successful and was very impressive, especially in funeral sermons, and was in great demand at the time. He has been married three times. He was called to preach in the Third Baptist Church in Petersburg in 1874. His life has been full of arduous work, and from Py eS iH eraygiiillii: = 4 his position as a slave he has risen to i ee HT AE | considerable wealth. Hh WGN AH ral am AA + | His theory with regard to the move- ATTA Ni ment of the sun is unique, and he ad- vances some very good arguments in as \ ui i i Il a hi | 1) Tiara) il Wh Wil ELL uth ui 1 J) AY A | UAT ; . ; Li lat i Y | il | ‘laa ‘) favor of it. He has travelled through il i : aa a the North lecturing, and has visited most i | Hu MM a 7 i 24 of the leading cities in the Union. He We le ere mt | : cc AR nc fe] 1s very earnest and a man of sound judg- SS — - — —- e: = ee Se ment and good hard sense. MT. ZION A. M. E. CHURCH, JACKSONVILLE, FLA. Mr. Jasper affords a striking illustra 5S Sen” being one of the most attractive church edi- | tration of what can be accomplished by fices in the city. It is admired for its con- | steady industry and perseverance. From venient arrangements which afford the best | the humblest surroundings in early life he facilities for carrying on its work. | has risen to a position of influence.ed a AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED: REV. EDWARD W. S. HAMMOND, y.D). Rev. Edward W. S. 55 and secular press, and has been generally | successful in the several positions to which he has been called. Hammond, D.D., editor of the Southwestern Christian Advo- The foregoing examples of successful A fro- cate, 1s a member of the Lexington Con- | Americans speak for themselves. ference, and was born in Baltimore, Md.., February 14, 1842.. He Says the | Hon. Frederick Douglass: When we con- is the .Son of | sider that, during two centuries, the colored Christian parents, who had formerly been | | people of this country were doomed to igno- | slaves. | rance and illiteracy, the record presented He was converted at an early age, and |: seems almost incredible. No one, fifty years attended the schools taught in his native city for the benefit of free col- ored people. Through the munificence of the late Hon. William E. Dodge, of New York, he was enrolled as a stu dent of Lincoln University (near Oxford, Pa.) in 1864, where he pur- sued a collegiate and _ theological course until 1867. In 1872 he was admitted into the Washington Con- ference, and appointed to Union Chapel, Cincinnati, Ohio, where he had marked success. He afterward filled the following appointment Paris, Ky., 1874-76; Hardinsburg, 9. 1576-78; Lexington; - Ky., 378-80; Presiding Elder of the indiana District, 1881-84; Coving- ca Ps s a ; | a4 2 ay a 4 ai 4 4 4 i pF of | a cod 4 rd PI # ; | 5 Pl : ry ca : 3 5 “ 4 : 4 a 4 5 < & ” 4 7 i bd | ry 7 j ; a} i: m4 ; . : zi J | ton, Ky., 1884-86; Presiding Elder of the Ohio District, 1887-92. _ He was elected reserve delegate to the General Conference of 1876, and 9 Rev. JOHN JASPER. delegate in 1880, when he made a 7 J ago, could have imagined the possibility oi Bishop which attracted general attention. les such intellectual energy and activity among He was elected reserve delegate to the them. wes oe ee eee mnt General Conference of 1884, and a delegate to that of 1888 and that of 1892, from which body he was elected editor of the South- western Christian Advocate. He received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from New Orleans University in May, 1888. The eager and persistent efforts of these people to avail themselves of the power of education is a matter of amazement. The | gates of knowledge were scarcely ajar when in they rushed pell mell, almost trampling upon one another in the race to reach its most exalted benefits. speech in favor of the election of a colored | | | g: eee re Ye has written extensively for the religious a eeae ar POLY Sole Lua a ale aaa Saar at iain ae Dee en kane ne 3 BS etait ekki POR aA eID peniane, PR LRA Sit ns Baek LI iS fata cigs Pe eee} ee eee ciate alls aoe NE aN a nro pe ; oe Les a ee ee ee ee eee ete eee AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. AFRO-AMERICAN COLLEGES AND INDUSTRIAL SCHOOLS. HAT our people can accom- plish by education has been shown during the last genera- tion. There is an old saying that “what has been done can be done again.” A large number of our race have proved their ability to master not only the ordinary branches of learning, but also to meet the demands of the “higher education.” This is an undeniable fact, and is valuable as showing that the colored man can be taught and trained for all professions and pursuits. He has that inquiring mind, which is one of the first essentials for obtaining knowledge. He has a praiseworthy curiosity for prying into what he does not know already. He is eager to learn. Wherever and whenever educational advantages have been placed within his reach, he has made diligent use of them. Common schools and higher institu- ‘Ions of Jearning have only to be thrown open to him and he will walk in, proud of his new and grand opportunities and ambi- fious to succeed. His mind and heart are stirred by the new era that has dawned upon him, his look is upward, and he begins to understand that the noblest manhood and the highest posi- tions of citizenship, wealth and_ social influence, can be gained only by self-culture and education. What is thought upon this subject by one of the leading Afro-American educators may be learned from the following article by Principal F. G. Snelson, of the Public School, Cartersville, Ga. The article is entitled, “What Ground, in what Studies should be Covered by a Grammar School Course?”’ and is taken from the columns of the Megvo Educational Journaé. Principal Sneison is a representative man of our race, and this renders his views upo the importance of primary education of special interest. Mr. Snelson says: The importance of a Grammar thorough and comprehensive School course is becoming more and more apparent every year. In the Higher Insti- tutions of learning, in Trade Schools and Business Universities pupils who have made a thorough mastery of the fundamentals of the Grammar School course seldom fail of marked success in the completion of their courses of studies and in their business careers. Every working man needs to know far more than the trade he has learned, If he has not a brain educated to think, he will surely be outwitted by the superior intelli- gence of contractors. “ Hand-skill is essen- tial but hands must be moved by a thinking head,” says one very wisely. The Ground to be covered demands : In the Form of a Story. Thorough preparation—the bringing to- gether all the helps, materials and incentives necessary to incite the acute interest of the teacher and prepare him for the lesson. The pupil himself must be prepared also; his interest fully awakened and his_ expecta-~ tions of receiving some good covetously aroused, The Ground to be covered requires the powers of admirable presentation. The German idea is that the teacher shall relate the lesson in the form of a story—thus hold- ing out the idea of a far higher grade of teaching force and showing the demands for better Normal training. The Ground to be covered will suggest the clearest association of those notions andAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. have a resemblance, brought together, compared, and absorbed assimilated from the broad 57 ideas that | has been learned. The recent scientific and truly | term is apperception, by which is meant the and enchanting | Intellectual appropriation of all the informa- field of knowledge. | ti cquir } tion acquired, se. Its products may be call Stoys watchword, ‘Repetition, : repeti- | habits of body and habits of thought, or the tion, eternal repetition,” wil] strengthen ) 1 | | true discipline of the head, heart and hand. immensely in one harmonious whole and | It may be called culture, produced by ideas interr=llv assimilated like food e into the conscious possession of ful] knowl- eaten, digestec - be RR — nt ee rn rey eee Cen See ee eee eee eae laid acini ae a ae : re ! HHA, A HA HHI] ss ‘4 | HANWHA | iff} 5 mu) Hal | | 3 / Hyd ' ae | a H | | TTT ty Tt — Pee 4 il Hil \ — ER Hl) !}| HTT Se es a 5 I} WL TT Efe me: = 3 a | Hh | } | i}! te SS u 1 | | | | e cdenter} oe } Hii} iW . ys | | 4 hag A I] j es F a ) 4 : i ; ) a ie BP. | feed a Sue 5. Fs Fi a = 2 = { := 5 te e td _ ; Lee - ak = aft caf eh PRE gona eer Sr Sag aie Sere eS bs zs pee aie a S: Te is oy ] SS He anand idem tant SSSSS]S]S]S]S]55656564 te TTT Fisk UNIVERSITY, NASHVILLE, TENN. en — —————— = aid JUBILEE HALL, edge, the memory and logical powers of | and wrought into blood, bone She pupil. [t will give completeness, it will unite the old and the new, it will organize and sinew o, | perfect usefulness. Our Grammar School course demands the disconnected materials into a system and | greatest attention, because the vast majority turn the mental possessions into elements of ’ ee ee ee el a of our school population will never reach | beyond its narrow confines: It is the The Ground to be covered should ever | chosen few who enter the colleges; it is keep in view the familiar application of what ' the select alone that ever are blessed with \ power. eeMOB ROMER AMERY ARI TT ciate an ee ec ee os AAA R Ss Gala DB ah LIES tld ges ticnewiyn 9 AC Hee Noi id A oS i ra) a - & oe 4 cu 4 Ce a sed 1 = ¥ * 7 2 a i r ; és ¥ BS E om Pt) é | | ) bs O Woe fh 58 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. the advantages of trade and professional | 1 education. Therefore the potent elements of the successful lives of the great army of our youth must be forcefully impressed by the grammar school teacher. As regards the number of studies used, our working watchword sliculd be, Mou multa sed multum, not a superfluity, but an appropriate selection and excellence of text- hooks. What is known in modern pedagogy — t Nl "i} laa) en | I iy k al, ral history, physics and physiology. Among those of the second class may be mentioned reading, drawing, spelling, penmanship, music and composition. The purpose of the “thought” studies is to furnish food material and stimulate concepts. The purpose of “ expression” studies is to intensify impres sions made, facilitate analysis of concepts, and make them more definite and clear. Geography should be the outgrowth of ii Pim a, } y Nea) oy Hk - bi) | aN A erry, TKO \ f ee Sh fr ey } ie ells Hi f A CHRISMAN HALL, CLARK ee es ATLANTA, GA. as co-ordination of studies should be of spe- cial consideration. The program or course of | studies may be divided into two classes: ist, those studies which deal with objects of thought and that furnish the best material of knowledge; 2d, those studies which deal only or for the most part with simple expres- sion. Among those of the first class may be named geography, history, arithmetic, natu- the natural sciences; Sn ceography should be the outgrowth of physical geogra- | phy, and both should be the stepping-stones | to history. Such co-ordination involves, | | { | ist, the teaching of clay modeling of the | various grand divisions of the earth in its | physical phenon.zna; 2d, the teaching o} | spelling with composition; 3d, the teac ching a composition with all the “thought” studies, with a comprehensive exercise Osad AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. 59 the simple applications of grammatical Simon N, Pattin, of the University of Penn Sylvania, declares that children can be edu- cated to form higher combinations of things which. taken together, give much larger sums of pleasure, etc. con- structions of subject, predicate and object ; 4th, the insertion of general reading matter bearing directly on thought studies; and. 5th, the weaving of such moral ideals from all the studies, separately or in combination, as will display to the pupils the practical manifestations | Ihe Ground to be covered in the Gram- | mar School course should embrace the sub- | jects of taxation, its purposes, rightfulness, The field | methods, justice, its benefits and necessities - of school ethics is exceedingly narrowed, | what role these have played in wars ne of good will, benevolence, justice, temperance, charity, etc. eh iets se m o oo haan » i aaa wr Low cm ~ Pe Nae Se eer ee en oe eed 4 Se Si a 4 i y rg | : A at : 4 r . F ‘ } i : | a r , 5 —— aoe —— ne is ne ————— OO —eg MORGAN COLLEGE, BALTIMORE, Mbp. out there remains a ray of hope for efficient moral training. The will must be moved by motives of the truest moral stamina. Mythology, that idealized history, the legends, folk-lore, fairy tales and dramas, are all freighted with ethical lessons of the bless- ings of good-will revolutions, and what the rights and duties of true citizenship are, and thus prepare } every pupil who completes the Grammar | Course for the active duties of life as though he would never enter the school-room again as a student. , and the curses of ill-will Patriotism ! and injustice; the inevitable return of the deed upon the doer; and the moral grandeur The kind of patriotism neces- sary is that which, while inspiring the chil. dren with enthusiastic love for their own PIP Im ~ Pe ie . rs one an eT BS of those who obey the laws of conscience country and its institutions, carries their with unswerving determination. Professor sympathies beyond the barriers of territory, eeAe 2 er er Ta ae ental al aetna Re ne Ce, ae Loses ab> alates rsa, Da te a PaaS ean aca ak EET ce Sal OS bal GY a Bk Pl BA POR EL IECEN Ph a H rs i 2 = € e | 3 Bs - | rf = | Ce a? § : ae _ a : x : 5 3 -- | ix) : i ig 4 60 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS IRLUSPRATED. race or language, and which will make them feel that all nations are a part of a great whole or communism called Civilization, and that every American must “act well huis part’? toward making his own nation a strong contributor to the best forces of all Christendom. Well might the distinguished satirist of he Renaissance declare that the aim of education is a complete man; who fears, loves and serves God and loves his neighbor as himself; skilled in art and industry ; pos- sesses the greatest amount of knowledge, and constantly strives for greater perfection in it. Finally the Ground to be covered should ultimately, invariably teach the love of God: Could we with ink the ocean fill ; Were every stalk on earth a quil_, And were the skies of parchment made And every man a scribe by trade— To tell the love of God alone, Would drain the ocean dry, Nor parchment could contain the whe" Though stretched from sky to sky. To the foregoing may appropriately be added here sketches of several leading Afro- American educators. The first to be named is PROF. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON. Principal Washington of Tuskegee, Ala., was born a slave at Hale’s Ford, Va., April, 1857. The place of his birth and early childhood, was a small one-room cabin, with a dirt floor—there being an opening in the middle of the floor where the sweet potatoes were kept in the winter. He belonged to a family by the name cf Burrows. Very soon after the war he went with his mother, Jane Ferguson, his step-father and the remainder of his family to Malden, W. Va., to live. Here he worked in the salt furnaces the greater part of each year, and went to school during three or four months Mr. Washington usually secured some one to teach him at night when not permitted to attend school in the day. After working in the mines and furnaces for a considerable time, he secured employment at the house of Mrs. Viola Ruffner, a lady of New England birth and training, and who, though very exacting regarding all matters of work, was very kind and showed her interest in the education of young Washington in a tumbex of wavs. Slept Under the Sidewalk. In 1871, in some way Washington heard of Hampton Institute in Virginia He at once made up his mind to enter that institu tion. With his own small earnings, amount ing to six dollars per month, and with what his family were kind enough to give him, he found himself in Richmond, Va., but friend- less, shelterless and homeless. Casting about, however, he soon discovered a hole under a sidewalk that offered a night's Sleep. As luck would have it, when he awoke next morning he found he was near a vessel un- loading pig iron, and application was at once made to the captain for work, which was given. Mr. Washington workcd here until he had enough money ty pay his way to Hampton Institute, which place he reached with a sur- plus of fifty cents. He remained at Hamp- ton three years, working his way through, and graduated with one of the honors of his class. After graduating and teaching in West Virginia, his old home, for a while, and spending a year in study at Wayland Seminary, Washington, D. C., Mr. Wash- ington was invited to return to Hampton as ateacher. In this capacity he remained at Hampton two years, till 1881, when appli cation was made to Gen. 5. C. Armstrongld ew Le A = ) ‘ Tr} a = Van an AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS [ILLUSTRATED 61 oe. by citizens of Tuskegee, Ala., for some i i cee, » fOr some one | and wealthy people throughout the country. l'his is attested by the fact that he succeeds In raising from $50,000 to $60,000 each } year with which to carry on the school Upon reaching ; work. Several indivi ¢ <. Several individuals give from ¢ Tuskegee, he found neither 1: ig | : eens fuskegee, he founc neither land nor build- | to $10,000 each annually toward the support ings, nothing but the promise of the state to | of the school. to start an institution at Tuskegee, on the | plan of Hampton. | Mr. Washington was at once recom- mended for the position. Mr. Washington’s services are in constant demand to speak at associa- I'he school was started in an | tions, clubs and prominent churches. old church and shanty with thirty s ‘S shanty y students The speech that broug st iry es ane j igre | brought pee mee Into | prominence was before the National Eduea- pay $2000 annually toward the expenses of the school. ae ae, eM , + ae ae adie! ; , eye ks eee er ts eee ee eee Se a, nem Mn a a Sa eae <= 5 ee Se a" 4 a eI | 4 § : i: : a err ee) ketal 1 PR ae oe Main Buitpinc, NEw Or veans UNIvVERsIty, La. The history of the school and its present | tion Association, Madison, Wis., in 1884. Soon after he was invited to address the | Boston Unitarian Club, the most intelligent | and wealthy club in the world he being | the first colored man to address the club. He has also spoken at Plymouth Church (formerly Henry Ward Beecher’s), Trinity Church, Boston (formerly Phillips Brooks’), and many other of the most prominent churches in the country. Mr. Washington is regarded as cne oi the condition are already known far and wide. It is enough to say that the institution with its 1900 acres of land, its 28 or more large buildings, with its 1000 or more teachers and pupils, its wealth in live stock, and its valua- tion of over $250,000 is a prodigy of devel- opment. E ee Ye ee ae a ae Principal Washington has met with un- usual success in making the acquaintance | and securing the confidence of prominent |Pa ons ee ee PML thnk Poa et ree To ta emit al ea ee ele ae rae ae Tiel tae eM SRR EIN PaaS ; a i ae en i Aq 7 P : oe es % : i fs $ 2 oe ¥ $ ; — ie a 2 § B - 62 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED, leading men of this country, and is held in high esteem everywhere, as was shown by his being made on one occasion the guest of chusetts. Surely then, if we take into account his great work, it is not going too far to place Mr. Washington among the foremost men of his country and time. Probably there is no man in the United States that has done more for our people than Prof. Washington. We take the fol- lowing complimentary notice from the Daily Herald, Quincy, Ill.: | | “Earnestness, simplicity and common sense characterized the man and his addresses at the Congregational Church. Very large congregations greeted him both morning and evening, and no one could have more atten- tive listeners. He speaks with great rapidity, with much emphasis, but weaves in his humor so that he is never wearisome. His tories were full of wit and always to the joint. Some passages were exceedingly eloquent, especially one last evening where fe described the contrast between the Negro | honor at the table of the Governor of Massa- | when he entered slavery and when he camr out. He interested every one greatly in the subject.”’ PROF, J. D. CHAVIS, A.M.,, B.D. This distinguished educator was born in the vicinity of Greensboro, N. C:, Auguss 9, 1863. He was born of free parents, William and Nellie Chavis, but under the peculiar circumstances and laws which have existed in North Carolina and all slave-hold- ing States. This gave him no advantage over the unfortunate slave. PHILANDER SMITH COLLEGE, LITTLE Rock, ARK. | On his father’s side he is thought te be second cousin to Rev. John Chavis, | a prominent colored Presbyterian minister, a true educator, who taught some of the best white families in the State before the war. Young Chavis, in 1875, having acquired the rudiments of education under great dif- ficulties, while sitting on his loaded with wood, saw the foundation of He there deter- mined some day to go to that college. Two ox-\vagon Bennett College being laid.y AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. white boys.with him laughed, and ridiculed his ambition. 6 33 | In the fall of 1889 he was elected Princi. | pal of the City School in Winston, N. C, | From there he was called to a prof>ssorship course in| in Bennett College. A few years later he graduated from that same institution ; completed his Seay Se ee ee LN CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY a A : oY] : A . 7 7 F i ri ed 3 é . i * * 4 H s 4 . ] mt 4 f : i Be 4 2 " ; 5 b a * TSE a fe ~~ SS ‘ 2 UE eT ees Mo cs ne al a tee SCHOOL OF PAINTING, CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY. Clark University in 1887, with the degree of A.B.; spent three years in Gammon Theologi- cal Seminary and graduated from there in i889 with the degree of B.D. acceptably filled for three years. In the falt of 1892 he married Miss Cornelia Elizabeti Dorsette, an accomplished lady and teacher, | herself being a graduate of Bennett College, Pk eae eeeSe Saag ea tNPY IRS PO Pe nhs StF OA re i a a Ac Date sae iar? eek seca Caen a ae a NPL a PR Paes Se ed ka Lt ae Stal gd og 2 . . = 4S ao i # i . re = 3 _ § = § ¢ ba ee ¥ si a a . € 2 e Ye fis Wess tes Suabtictats Pk se 64 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. having taught in North Carolina and in Tus- kegee Normal Institute, Ala., for a number of years. In 1893 Prof. Chavis was appointed Presi- dent of Bennett College, toward which his ambition was directed years ago. His executive ability and business tact, shown in +. work of former years, give him pre-emi- nent fitness for the responsible and honora- ble position of president of the institution, which position he now successfully fills. PROF. A. W. McKINNEY. This very successful teacher and clergy- man was born February 6, 1853, in Frank- lin County, Ala. His parents were slaves, and when he was about four years old they were sold from him, and he never saw them again till long after the Emancipation. By his own unaided efforts and diligent study he obtained a common school educa- tion. After earning and saving some money he went to Grenada, Miss., and entered a high school taught by a Northern lady. While here he worked evenings, mornings and Saturdays, and helped to pay his board, and continued his studies. Here, in the year 1873, he was converted and joined the M. E. Church under Rev. Gilbert Brooks. It was tl of that good man that he entered Central Tennessee College at Nashville, Tenn., in irough the advice the year 1874, where he was in regular attendance till 1877, when he was elected Principal of Nimrod Institute at Eutaw, Ala. In 1881 he was elected Principal of the City Public School at Marion, Ala. Dur- ing these years of educational work he also served as pastor of Soulis’ Chapel, Eutaw, and Marion, respectively. His three years at the place last named were years of marked success. In 1882 he returned to Central Tennessee College and graduated in 1884. In 1885 he was appointed pastor of Lakeside M. E. Church at Huntsville, Ala.. which place he served two years. In 1886 he was elected President of Central Alabama Academy, which he now holds. Under his care the school, which was at one time advertised for sale, has been regularly main- tained with an increased attendance, and the buildings, grounds and facilities greatly improved. In 1888 he was chosen as the ministerial delegate to the General Conference of the M. &. Church, which met that year in the City of New York. In the year 1892 he was again honored by his brethren of the Central Alabama Conference, who elected him as their delegate to the General Confer- ence, which met that year in the City of Omaha, Neb. PROF. THOMAS J. CALLOWAY, A.B President Calloway was born August 12, | 1866, in Cleveland, situated in the mountain- ous district known as “East Tennessee,” The subject of this sketch experienced the usual routine life of a farmers lad. His parents were ex-slaves and could neithe: read nor write. They managed, however to keep their four boys and three girls in the town school five to six months in the year, using them during the remaining months to do the work on the farm. Thomas Junius was the fifth child ane third son, and was quite early regarded ag the “Yankee” brother. At the age of six teen, through a wise enactment of the Ten- nessee Legislature, granting scholarships to each Senatorial District, he was enabled to enter Fisk University. While in that inst- tution he was elected for three years business manager of the Herald, a college publica- tion, and enjoyed the hearty confidence o} all. He graduated in 1889, after a schoo’AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS {LLUSTRATED, 65 fife of many difficulties, but surmounted by | ored High School of Evansville. Ind and his characteristic energy. Mr. Calloway was at once employed. The if oe | Evansville schools being somewhat “in poli. self in practical education, he a Pp , he went to Chi- | tics,” and thus suffering from outside infu- Ls sam rm i i After graduation, desiring to perfect him- | tl 4 | : i | 7 SCHOOL OF ART, CLAFLIN UNIvERsITY, jai ae ss-CUTTING : Sai CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY. cago, and by working at odd hours was | ences, he resigned in May to accept a position enabled to complete the course of Bryant | in the War Department, Washington, D. C.. | tendered him through the Civil Service Com | mission, he having stood a high examination. and Stratton’s Business College. At this time there happened a vacancy in the Col- E Dud l oee e O a To aa eae ag ee ~ ee es a >| a 3 2 . 3 | ; ; 4 : i a my 4 7 : : F} re a a oy F A : 4 4 ‘ , el ee a er Pe eeead ee ee RRA CELL OE ee ey al aL eae) cua aE NS Falla oe Dee re RE aR PD ae ec A ened hak aoe Sanh a lara : i & a 7 | og < 4 fe a: on i ss ‘2 -) : = § 2 ts # BS ee S25 7 -% oo a , — 66 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATEE. During his service for the Government he | In the spring of oe “ be: “— used his spare hours, first, to take special | Secretary of Tuskegee Notmal ane a studies in law and afterward to establish | trial School, Tuskegee, Ala. of wis eh and maintain quite a flourishing educational fessor Booker T. Washington is Principal, STEAM LAUNDRY, CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY. bureau, styled the “Colored Teacher Before assuming charge of his duties at Agency,’ | s? ’ designed to aid colored schools | Tuskegee, the trustees of Alcorn Agricul- in every part of the United States, in selecting | tural and Mechanical College, near Rodney, the best available teachers, and likewise fur- | Miss., elected him President of that institu. nishing positions for deserving teachers. | tion. This college was established in 1871,AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. as a result of purchase by the State, of Oak- land College, a famous old institution for white boys, founded in 1828 by Southern Presbyterians, and sold to the State because of the loss of endowments through results of the war. Or elected at Tuskegee, upon his election to the Presidency of Alcorn College. He is now devoting his energies and talents to the development of that institution with much success. As one of the evidences of his a Nd ability he has through his efforts secured for his school the donation by Con of a township of land The courses | twenty-three are Academic, Scientific, Preparatory and It comprises 21 buildings, over 300 acres ofland. Fifteen teachers are employed and over 300 students are enrolled Sress amounting to thousand and forty acres, which it is hoped will realize a hundred Business. Agriculture is taught theoreti- | thousand dollars. | A e 4 i i oy 4 : J > a i - io $ my 4 4 : ~ Bc P| 3 7 : a : b | A i. ; ; | / i 4 | ; PHARMACEUTICAL LABORATORY, MEHARRY MEpICAL COLLEGE, NASHVILLE, TENN. e 4 | cally and practicaily; so also are carpentry, | CLAFLIN UNIVERSITY AND IN. ; a. ee < | blacksmithing, printing, shoemaking and DUSTRIAL INSTITUTE. t dairying. The institution aims to prepare This institution of learning is located at young people to take charge of public schools of the State and to make useful and thrifty citizens. While the shops do not aim to produce mechanics they develop Orangeburg, S. C. The property consists of nearly two hundred acres of land and thirty school and industrial buildings. The cam- pas is pleasantly located and well shaded. skill that enables many of the students to | The existence of the institution is - due follow trades. largely to the Hon. Lee Claflin and family, Mr. Calloway resigned his position in the | of Boston. The faculty is composed of six- War Department, Washington, D: C.. and } feém members, Iyventy persons are- em- < { also the position to which he had just been | ployed in the mechanical and industria’ re eel , ed a aoevt ne rT . D R r eae el Speer pe PENILE i (te Ln a ts SITS aia abled abatar aval are Deceit igi eer NB 177 NSE NC = f By 5 ae i i H oo . : i = BS DG a =o 7 eS Ly ee 4 * - ; a: be ® i: + iy — a e M i ; " stk fs 68 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. printing, painting and graining, brickmak ing and laying, blacksmithing, tailoring, 4epartments. There are more than 1000 Audents in annual attendance. SS BO RB = WY ea = a a = = —————— = Sy Sots —— — ae nna a ae “ I~ * — First Encine Buitt at CrenrraL TENNESSEE COLLEGE. Twenty trades and industries are taught, some of which are as follows: Carpentry, «abinetmaking, building, steam iaundry, shoemaking, cooking, domestic economy, dress cutting, fitting and making, crochet. ing, artistic painting and needle work. ‘TheAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS JES’ industrial department does most of ture needed in the d turec py the students, provea the practicability of teac] trades in connection with the ] CENTRAL COLLEGE OF TEN- NESSEE. the building and all of the repairing. All furni- ormitories is manufac- The institution has ling the iterary studies, TRATED. 69 largely indebted for our present buildings, grounds, apparatus, aid in Support, and the beginning of an endowment.” ce PR ee ee eee The school building is supplied with work benches, tool room, Offices, etc. It is heated by steam and ventilated by swinging win- dows in the cupola above. The building was founded by, and is under the control of | H. G. Sedgwick, an accomplished mechani- The president of Central Tennessee Col- lege writes: “The Meharry Phar- maceutical Department of Central Tennessee College has been in operation for two years. During the past session nine students were en- rolled, three of whom completed the required course of study. The demand for colored pharmacists far exceeds the supply, and during the past year [{ have re- ceived applications from five different States, ask- ing for young men to take charge of drug | Scores; “but, ds all of | our pharmaceutical ee graduates were already provided for, I was unable to supply these demands. Our medical graduates now successfully conducting two drug stores in Atlanta, Ga., two in Nashville, two in | Arkansas, one in Greenville, Miss., one in Galveston, Tex., one in Macon, Ga. The | Meharry Dental and Pharmaceutical De- | partments of Central Tennessee College take | ‘ : “7 their name from the generous and_philan- | trophic Meharry family, te whom we are TELESCOPE MADE At CENTRAL have opened, and are cian. The magnificient outfit of machinery was giver by Professor Sedgwick, who con- —— & TENNESSEE COLLEGE. secrated it by his own splendid genius to the work of Christian education. Mr. Sedgwick is a Methodist minister, and in entering upon this work was impelled by a profound consciousness of duty. The course is for four years. It is noticed that the students who stand highest in their Titer- ary classes take the most interest in the department of mechanical arts,-thus com: bining mental and manual training. se " oe ee. 5 ee ee ee eee re a ied Re wd iy f - Bs . 3 i t a 7 Y os P| 4 - 4 i i oy | = © Po a 7] 4 - My 4 a cy : 2 : i r ; ~ mY : od <% : ‘A 4 i} | 4 ms s i 2 # a4 : 3 | 3_ ‘ en ae ; d ? , i : . wo eet 97 HAE NCIS ail SN WA ho a es se Es a SJE aRN ZTE See Oe un ate SIU ENTE NORE ENTE 2 te i a: § ; i oe = * ‘ | cy } aie Bs a : - iM rt Re ay + Be oo Pi 7 Ws DRONA Pk Sri se UAL ee aco f0 AFRO-AMERICAN “PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. The telescope made by colored students | rence Sanh ol a = a Z HH —SaSS ee NS EOE SPECIMENS OF WorK, CENTRAL TENNESSEE COLLEGE. ae ee tad CMO BE HH oS University, Appleton, Wis. The en- tire mounting, with the exception of the object glass, the eye-piece and the steel | tube, was built at the machine shops of the School of Mechanic Art, Nashville, Tenn. All of the polishing and nickel- plating, and all of the surface work as done by the students. Specimens of Work. Explanation: I. Steel hammer, forged by hand. 2. Cold chisel, forged by hand. 3. One end of crobet file, polished. 4. Iron nail, electroplated, first in copper, then in nickel, then in silver, after being polished. 5, 6. Steel hammer, forged by hand. 7, 8, 9, 10, 12. Parts of clock- work. 11. Graduated scale. 13: Eee mond point angular lathestool. 14. Steel octagon prick punch, forged by hand. 15. Steel calipers, forged by hand. 16. Brass cog-wheel for tower clock. 17. Steel hammer, forged by hand. 18, 19, 20. Specimens of brass, silver and gold electroplating. 21. Steel ham- mer, forged by hand. These choice specimens of handicraft were all made by Afro-American students connected with the School of Mechanic Arts, Central Tennessee College, Nash- ville, Tenn. OUR EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS. As illustrating the advancement made by our race in education, the following facts from Johnson’s “School History of the Negro Race in America” will be of interest: Can the Negro learn anything? was the first question he had to answer after schools were established for him. The fact that every slave State had laws is now in use at the observatory, Law- | against his being taught before the war andAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. that they opposed it afterward ought to be a sufficient answer. , But if this is not sufficient, think of the deeds of Professor Scarborough, of Macon, Ga., author of a series of Greek text-books which have been adopted at Yale; George W. Williams, author of the “ History of the American Negro;” Joseph T. Wilson, author of “Black Phalanx;” C. G. Morgan, class orator at Harvard, 1890, and a host of others. 71 one of the first presidents to recognize the ability of young colored men to teach the higher branches. The plan works admirably well and, besides, teaches the race to confide in the ability of its own educated men and women, ee eel ead It affords lucrative employment to many who are by nature and choice fitted, for the work of teaching. The colored people of the South have made more progress in education since the war than in anything else, and they are still The high schools, seminaries, colleges and | thirsty for knowledge. professional schools for colored people num- ber nearly two hundred. Many of them are controlled entirely by colored faculties as Livingstone and Bennett Colleges, North Carolina; Morris Brown College, Georgia ; Tuskegee Normal School, Alabama; Wil- berforce University, Ohio; Virginia Normal and Collegiate Institute; Kittrell’s Normal and Industrial Institute and Shaw Univer- sity, except its president, who is white, but The schools every- where are crowded. The love of knowledge seems to be instinctive, and thousands of faithful mothers spend many weary hours at the ironing board and wash-tub in order to get money to help their children obtain an education. With the start they now have twenty-five years more of earnest work will show marvellous changes in the educational condition of the race, attended by marked improvement in every respect. SECRET SOCIETY ORGANIZERS AND OFFICERS. UR people have not been slow to ; some real advantage by continuing their membership. j ‘ 3 i} , | os | see the advantages arising from combined effort. They believe Afro-Americans are especially interested in societies whose prominent feature is prac~ in societies for mutual improve- ment, for dispensing charity to aid the | tical benevolence, for example, the care of unfortunate, for protecting their civil rights, | the sick and aged poor, the assistance needed by those who for the time being are elevating the race. They welcome every | out of work, and the help required by them organization that promises to secure for them | in the effort to obtain employment. | Taking any political, social or material benefits. the different church societies, of which there The history of secret societies proves that | is a vast number, and the secret orders of a for aiding one another in business and for | endl } | | many of them possess a value and confer | more general character into account, it is benefits that are something more than | safe to say that a very large proportion of imaginary. Otherwise these various orders | our people are enrolled as members of could not have flourished as they have. Their | organizations, of one form or another, all aiming to promote the moral, social and time and money in maintaining them, and | material welfare of those connected with show in other ways that they are receiving | them, and helping to sustain them. members are devoted to them, spend much , Se eal } ey pl calé AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILEUSTRATED mystery thrown around a secret society. He 1s attracted by the charming regalia and the brilliant parades. He takes pride in the order to which he belongs, and if there is any political organization ee ee aay ise ean A ex NA u that aims to advance his interests, secure his rights and elevate him to the full measure of a noble citi- enship, he throws into it all his energies, and is faithful to his uties and obligations. Who can ‘stimate the immense benefits thus RURAL SN PN ale derived, or the noble impulses thus maT ROR 4 ROR re ORR PR re “racer AES siven to our race! KN AN We have space for mentioning only one or two prominent organi- zers and officers, but take pleasure presenting the following brief sketch from a contemporary jour- CHARLES H. Brooks, Grand Secretary G. U. O. of Odd Fellows of America. Thus the great fact has not escaped our people that “in union there is strength.” The finest achievements are brought about by combined effort, by uniting energies and directing them toa common object. The colored man as all know, is emphatically a social being. He is happy in the society « his kind. His nature peculiarly fit him for uniting with others in joint yf | efforts for bettering his condition and securing benefits that he could not obtain if acting independently and alone. It is not surprising, therefore, that he is ever ready for united action. g The great benevolent orders have a GEORGE Bryan Mitts, Eso., charm for him. He likes the air of Founder of the Order Esdros, Baltimore, Md. a _- Se 3 F} ‘ 3 Ai : . iY $ i : 5 - : 4 i iat Bs .o - | : /¥ > * sr C ‘ . y on Wy iy \E \\ \\\ oN the True Reformers that should FeV YW . i i; 4 Nh \\ \ \ v not be overlooked, and that is the Ye YY) a ba YAY UY AAFP \\\ \} fact that through that organization \ ; YAU [ae y : : k = A\\\\\\\ many members of our rac = | e obtain /, Ee; who f, would otherwise be without work, , remunerative employmen and that is an important item in the history of race progress. The a ri ees a ee “a organization is growing, and we Eepect. to sec, ere jong, -well- equipped banking establishments under its supervision and direction. We favor the movement of the True Reformers, because it tends to bene- 2 eae eae fit the masses, and is doing a great work for the race.” We also take pleasure in men- tioning another name _ favorably known in the Order of Odd Fellows. Rev. W. W. Brown, Founder of the Order of True Reformers. 7. J,.C.. McKINLEY. | nent Odd Fellows in the State. In 1881 he ee 2 a eel Mr. McKinley was born in Russellville, | was elected Secretary of the Kentucky Grand Ky., March 5, 1852. He attended the; Lodge. MHe has written a number of books common schools of Louisville, and entered | on Odd Fellowship. So enn ewre Tal ae ela ea AC eee I ee en cee ee een okra alma ad a AS Mans Fi 1 w . i / 2: a ‘ : Be a = | & re . # i ee _ + i : f $ o | oe 7g Pe ath 74 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. 7, J. C.- WicKINrey. From the foregoing sketches it will be seen that many of the most prominent colored men, many of the lead. ers, who may justly be consid- ered the wisest, the most far- seeing and the most devoted to the interests of our race, advocate friendly societies, and look with favor upon the different fraternities, the objects and aims of which tend to the improvement of the masses and the bettering of their condition. Such societies have become numer- ous and are well supported. They find among their members those who make good and careful officers, active, reliable and efficient. And these fraternities are also schools of education. They teach the. art of combined effort, the proper control of finances, and the rules that should govern organized bodies of men. They promote a spirit of brotherhood and of active charity. They interweave the mu- tual relations of separate individuals, bring them closer together, and teach the great lesson that the welfare or mis- fortune of one is the common conern of all, NAVAL AND MILITARY HEROES. S a race the Afro-Americans are not ambitious for military glory. Our | people are peaceable and willing to settle their difficulties without any resort to arms. The character of the race must not be judged by exceptional instances of violence and bloodshed. Yet when driven to it, the race has shown great fighting qualities and has displayed a valor equal to that of the most renowned chieftains of other peoples. Among the famous commanders who have snown the most brilliant military genius, the first to be named is that grand historic char- acter who was called the Napoleon Bona- parte of his race. TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE. This celebrated soldier, statesman and martyr is supposed to have been born in the Island of Haiti, or San Domingo, May 20, 1743. Though very delicate in his extreme youth, he became stronger with years and always showed a kind and open disposition, His real name was Toussaint Breda, from the estate on which he worked as a slave tendingAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. flocks and herds. He was made coachman by M. De Libertas, and later steward of the sugar house. He married a widow with one son and learned to read. In 1791 the revolution broke out and he joined the soldiers, first working among them as physician, but was afterward called to the front to leadthem. Under his leadership the revolution was successful and he restored the island to peace and became the ruler. All San Domingo was prosperous and happy under his rule until Bonaparte issued a decree in 1801 restoring slavery to the island and sent French troops to carry the order into effect. Made a Prisoner. L’Ouverture’s property was destroyed, his family scattered and himself taken to the borders of Switzerland and thrown into a dungeon, where he died April 3, 1803. His noble character is shown in his last words to his son, “Some day you will return to San 75 merely great military genius, not merely great ability as a statesman appeared in his marvelous career, but above all his exalted character shone resplendently, and he was too honest to be bribed, too courageous to surrender, and toc devoted to the welfare his race to count his life dear to hin. Speaking of him as a soldier, Wendell Phillips has said: Cromwell manufactured his own army; Napoleon at the age of Domingo and you must forget that France ; murdered your father.” It is difficult to do justice to this extraor- dinary man who left a profound impression | upon his countrymen and his time. Hi passion was the love of liberty. In the great struggle for freedom in San Domingo he allied himself with France, believing he had more to hope for from this nation than from England, but he was basely deceived. It was through an act of treachery that he was seized by the French Commanding Officer, in order that he might be transported to France, thus permitting slavery to be re- stored in the Island. By the sheer force of his native ability and integrity he rose to the highest position among his people, and it is not too much to say that no nobler leader ever marshalled an army or struggled for independence. Not Toussaint L’OQuVERTURE. twenty-seven was placed at the head of the best troops that Europe ever saw. They were both successful. “But,” says Macau: lay, “with such disadvantages the English- man showed the greatest genius. Whether you will allow the inference or not, you will at least grant it is a fair mode of measure- ment; apply it to Toussaint. Cromwell never saw an army until he was forty. This man never saw a soldier until he was fifty, ae ae ed rs _— eee ba eee ed RR ee Nd 7 a ei 3 - + 4 ; r ; iH if i . $ r 4 ‘ 2 i . | “ ] : 1 3 a a tele ce aeda AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. and sent him home cor: quered; at the mose warlike blood in Eu- rope, the French, and put them under his feet; at the pluckiest blood s H in A ae ee etd ee Pea SANE TR AS pd Ta a SIF a ra cee tee in Europe, the English Pada Dane ee Pal ee PD ald AN eh si se Kaede sa cid ate and they skulked home to Jamaica.’’ The sol- i diers were proud of their general and under his guidance performed niracles. It seems as if he never slept. The title‘‘L’ Ouverture” was given him because an officer said that wher- ever Toussaint goes he always makes an open- ing, the word means “the opening.” PRESIDENT HIPPOLITE, San Domingo. Cromwell manufactured his own army, out SAI SETI SATII AEN i A AORN IN REP PASSO” SEEN Ta i eon of what? Englishmen—the best blood in Europe out of the middle classes of Englishmen—the best blood of the Island. And with it he conquered what? English- men—their equals. “This man manufactured his army out WY \ enh Zy Sa * 4), ROS of what? Out of what you class a de- : pee LU ERY AVA se ‘ . <\ ea er : a; DOR \ SZAN YY we Y spicable race of Negroes, debased and CR: demoralized by two hundred years of slavery. One hundred thousand of them imported into the Island within four years, unable to speak a dialect intelligible even to each other. Yet out of this mixed, as you say despicable mass, he forged a thun- derbolt, and hurled it at what? At the . proudest blood of Europe, the Spaniard, Major F, C, REyELLs, WAsHINGTOoN, D,. C. 5 if : i “ #8 Pe ae % 4 : a ee _ | 3 kA a Es # .: 5. ' ¥ ¥ A mei 2AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. Z would call him Napoleon, but Napoleon fade his way through a sea of blood. This man never broke his word. ‘‘ No Retaliation,” was his great motto and the rule of his life; and the last words uttered to his son in France were these: ‘‘My boy, you will one day go back to San Domingo: forget that France murdered your father.” I would call him Cromwell, but Cromwell was only a soldier, and the state he founded went down to him into his grave; I would call him Washington, but the great Virgin- ian held slaves. This man risked his empire rather than permit the slave trade in the humble village of his domin- ions. You think mea fanatic to- night, for you read history not with your eyes but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when truth gets a hearing, the muse of history will put Phocion for the Greeks, Brutus for the Romans, Hampton for England, Fayette for France, choose Washington as the bright consummate flower of our earlier civilization, and John Brown as the ripe fruit of our noon-day; then dipping her pen in the sunlight, will write in the clear blue, above them all, the name of the soldier, the statesman, the martyr, Tous- saint L’Ouverture. HON. ROBERT SMALLS. The daring exploits of this distinguished | representative of his race date back to the | early days of the Civil War. He was born in | Beaufort, S. C., April 5, 1839. Being a | slave he had little opportunity for obtaining | an education, but was possessed of a high | order of intelligence and those traits which | characterize eyery born leader of men (ds In 1851 he moved to Charleston where | he familiarized himself with ships and ship- | ping. At the outbreak of the war he was | employed on the Confederate Steamer Flanter, | a vessel plying in Charleston harbor. Smalls being in sympathy with the Federal cause, determined to watch his opportunity and deliver the vessel to the U. S. naval officer of that district. This bold exploit gave him wide repute. He was made captain of the Hon. ROBERT SMALLS. vessel, and was highly esteemed by his supe~ riors for his good sense, intelligence and bravery. After the Planter was put out of commis- sion in 1866, Captain Smalls was elected a member of the State Constitutional Conven- tion. He was of course the hero of an important act in the drama of the late war, and his people always delighted to hear him tell, in his own style, the story of the cap Cae Se A a MPR UN Namal ie Saleen ee ee ee iad oy | | | ee esgn ere aENY It Pa a Eas ATONE 3 ISOPEN OR ONDE IDNA ot Snir igatiosir NES eens CN ee cee Ae eS LE Oe SCN As ee ERITH Fm i 9 EP OE ESN ._. segues: ey 78 AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS Locus uRALED. ture. His zeal, good sense and pure disin- terestedness, easily made him the idol of his people, whose faith in him was unbounded. It was reported in the newspapers that two | colored men, partisans of his, were talking on the corners. Said one to the other, “I SERGEANT Wm. H. CARNEY, Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment. tell you, Smalls is the greatest man in the | sone... Lhe other said, “* Y-e-s, he’s great, but not the greatest man.” ‘ Pshaw, man,” replied the first speaker. ‘‘Who is greater Puan omic” said No. 2. ‘Why, Jesus Ghist.2) “@?> said No. 1; Smalls is young yet.” a At the general election in 1868, he was elected to a seat in the House of Represen- tatives of the State, and signalized his efforts by the introduction of the Homestead Act, and introduced and secured the passage of the Civil Rights bill. He continued in this capacity until Judge Wright was elected as associate judge of the Supreme Court of the State, when he was elected to fill his unexpired time in the Senate in 1870, and, at the election in 1872, he was elected Senator, defeating General W. J. Whipper. His record here was brilliant, consistent, and indeed he led in all the most prominent measures. His debating qualities were tested, and he was acknowl- edged a superior and pow- erful talker. He was on the ‘Committee on Fi- nance,” chairman of the “Committee of Public Printing,” and a member of many other leading com- mittees. Mr. Smalls was elected as a Republican to the Forty-seventh, Forty- eighth and Forty-ninth Congresses, and took high rank among the leaders of the House as a wise and patriotic statesman. COL. JAMES LEWIS. He was born in Woodville, Wilkinson County, Miss., in the year 1832. At the age of fifteen his work on the river began. At the time of the emancipation he was workingAFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS ILLUSTRATED. as steward on board the Confed- erate transport, De Soto, and at the glad news at once made his way to New Orleans and petitioned the commanding officer to allow him to raise what he maintains was the first regiment of colored troops that en- gered the United States Army. Mr. Lewis raised two companies and was mustered in at the head of «me as Captain of Company K. In 1864 he returned to the city and became a custom-house broker until rent gent for he Educational Department of he was appointed travelling a the Freedmen’s Bureau, in which capacity he travelled all over the State and established schools. At the close of his work with the Bureau, he was made by the Hon. William P. Kellogg, United States Inspector for Customs. This place CoLoNEL JAMES LEWIS, he held to 1869. He became Sergeant of the Metropolitan Police and was pro- moted to the captainship. He later held the positions of Colonel of the Second Regiment, State Militia, and Adminis- trator of Police and Public Improve- ments. In 1877 he was appointed Naval Officer of the Port by President Hayes, and was afterward made Super- intendent of the United States bonded = rx ; = S warehouses in New Orleans. —— ttf ] $f ih a tf CAPTAIN R. A. PAUL. ah SH Robert Austin Paul, late Commander of State Guards, Richmond, Va., was born at Livingston, Nelson County, Va., No- vember 3, 1846. His parents were slaves » * : i . z a rf * 3 Py | 4 3 7 oy 4 3 £ a - a 5 ‘ a Pi Fi i a ; a : : bf s ‘ : ut ry ” 4 7 : a 4 P| a * i 5 £3 i 2 | A 3 , fi 4 ; Y ‘ ‘ Ce aad ee ae ened ee Cat on naanDe ct ea cal ab Pea BL EES rT hendh Pd aren ora TA a PPD aN Trae La ha a aS ee ee a ete in ee Oe oe emcee ee ROI ASE EAP DTW WS ve Tog Beret Rea Mesa DI Aor Sk aD ee ee ee eee aie oe th aa 8G AFRO-AMERICAN PROGRESS [ELS PRALED. and at an early age he was bound out under circumstances very unfavorable to the ac- quirement of knowledge, which was his chief ambition from early youth. After the war, with the assistance of his mother, who had been allowed by her master to acquire a fair education, he soon equipped himself for his active and useful Major Martin R. DELAney. career. He entered politics early and has been identified with all important political movements in his State, being the only Afro- American to hold the messengership at the Virginia State House. Through his influence the Legislature created the State Guards of the City of Richmond, and he was made Captain. This organization has taken part with credit in nearly every competitive drill — + in the State, besides having taken part in national drills. Captain Paul gave up his military life sub- sequently and became one of the most efficient mailing clerks in the Richmond Postoface. He has marked literary ability and has contributed largely to magazines and papers. He is Past Master of the Masonic Lodge at his home and is very much esteemed, MAJOR MARTIN B. DELANEY, M.D. This distinguished sci- entist and lecturer was born at Charlestown, Va., May 6, 1812. He was the son of an African Prince and a Golah woman of high rank. He was married to Kate A. Richards in 1843. In 1818 he first began to take instructions and studied in secret until # was found out, and his mother moved to Cham- bersburg, Pa., where they lived for fifteen years and where he attended school, In r831 he went to Pittsburg and_ entered school, and in 1834 was officially connected with the first temperance society among the Afro- American race. In the next few years he studied medicine and lectured on physiologi ° cal subjects. In 1843 he started J/ystery, an Afro- American weekly, and continued editing it for some years. He received the appoint- ment of Major from President Lincoln and was connected with the Freedmen’s BureauMISS MELANIE MACKLIN Colored Beauty of St. Louis see THE ABOVE GOLD, DIAMOND-SET MEDALS WERE OFFERED BY THE APPEAL TO THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAIDEN AND MARRIED LADY OF THE RACK, AND WERE Won BY Miss MACKLIN AND Mrs. STEWARD. ee Se sy te RE <1. ee ae eel ON Ne eae eS ne ae | ia ; r 4 oy = i | 3 4 : I a : a : - e 7 ; s 4 3 A $ | A ‘ : “= 5 a P| 3 j FI a 4 s | r a aes eenspe th eR a SRO eae ee det dain ack sea Labs la a, ava FAL Kia i tN EUS OSINTNIE ET IEY : : Sou tasat De Seer iaal tote ig Garcia seat are AA ae Pes Mess Wessels PLANS TN Si Gk ea) Leer teen otal cele oe kk Oe Manne 1. ProF. L. S. CLARKE, Athens, Ga. 2. PRIN. F.G. SmirH, M.D.,Nashville,Tenn. 3. PRor. A.W. McKINNEy, A.M., Huntsville, Ala. 4. ProF. F. G. SNELSON, A.B., Athens, Ga. 5. Dr. R. F. Boyp, A.M., M.D., Nashville, Tenn. 6. Pror. W. B. MATHEWS, Cartersville, Ga. 7. REV. PROF. J. A. JONES, Shelbyville, Tenn. 8. ProF. A. TOLLIVER, Marrietta, Ga. Jv. PROF. W. H. SPENCER, Columbus, Ga. nQRISING YOUNG MEN OF INTELLECT ATLANTA BAPTIST SEMINARY. EDUCATION AND GROUP OF STUDENTS, SGbas ee ee er ee ee ip > La Sw | et tl at teal op Cian Mis oe snes es ee ee ee wtb take eda ‘ i | ~ : ‘ A i i F| 4 5 4 ee Se ne aoat he P 4 ze a eee Ty aa ai ala ab an an a Noe Si CEE ES SE eo De Sel CAR SLAP D liad ela col ee eh era SEE Le Oe ace a ee a REN TS a Re ak er aT Sits high ciate sie coke’ 0 SID Ron ate en ances SU LTTE Mtn d wines ron ther eng Es Zz sees JOHN ARTHUR JOHNSON CHAMPION HEAVYWEIGHT PUGILIST OF THE WORLD. John A. Johnson was born in Galveston in 1878, his birthday being March 31, and if ring experience goes for anything, he has it. In 1901, nis first year as a fighter, he fought six times, winning all but one, which was adraw. The next year he went into the ring 16 times, and from then on was almost constantly engaged. He has to his credit over 60 battles. While many of his opponents have not been of the style to test nis mettle, his frequent bouts have served at least to keep him always in craining, and this is one of the strong arguments of his friends. In temperament Johnson is an interesting study. His chief charac- teristic is his unfailing good nature, a constant sort of even temper that nothing seems to ruffle. His ‘‘ golden smile’’ is always in evidence, and not even the coarse and insulting jibes that frequently greet him from fight spectators seem to have the power to disturb him. Even when ducking a storm of blows and showing wonderful skill in evading the onslaughts of his opponent, Johnson never loses his poise nor his power of observation. His eyes take in everything that transpires at the ringside. Heseems to hear every comment made by the onlookers, and even in the midst of a clinch, when every muscle is tense, will recog- nize a witty sally from the audience with a flash of his ready smile, and, like as not, will throw a witty rejoinder at the audience. His most important battles date from his defeat of Tommy Burns in Australia, December 26, 1908. Having wrested the championship from Burns, he determined to meet and defend his title against allcomers. His fights with Al Kaufman and Stanley Ketchel followed in rapid succession. On July 4, 1910 at Reno, Nevada, he defeated James J. Jeffries in fifteen rounds for the heavyweight championship of the world. The original purse was $101,000, to this was added $20,000, making the total sum for which they fought $121,000. On this division Johnson’s share would be $72,600 and Jeffries $48 400.JOHN ARTHUR JOHNSON, OFTEN CALLED “JACK” CHAMPION HEAVYWEIGHT PUGILIST OF THE WORLD a eee at a oe Ce atid ho eee ee ee a ar ~ ee ee a fae aU tt Be. he 8. ed ¢ Pe t é 4 » ; ? o a M a ¥ | i i Ql 4 5 . < ee FN eee 2 a egeenion® Sorere [tain i Mere teeta se Kaka ae ¥ eeevs * e* Sis neciiatenisinh ia at ater ag See MLLE. Le ZETORA COLORED LADY ATHLETE—HEAVY. WEIGHT ACT Citar ar ch See Pre Nii, Mswsifced PhSFINE SPECIMEN OF PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT, PETER JACKSON, ATHLETE. ae er ee ee Soe oe feet Ge Se ee a ee ee. - ~ 4 A é : ‘ | 7 er na En tae nn Se es a ne eed Se pn AenTRI ee On ee iad a ua ie Sed Pipl tae 0 Aaa PA APD ald ee ee Oe ee Lt ae § ae BS staat 509 Sa SER. OW PELE GER OTN GRIN LUBA AR oy 57 ATLANTA, GA. CHURCH, Se M, AUTIFUL SPECIMEN OF CHURCH ARCHITECTURE BIG BETHEL A. BETHE EpucATIONAL PROGRESS OF THE AFRO-AMERICAN RACE By Pror. I. GARLAND PENN KCAUSE of the very great develop- ment of the Afro-American from Slave to educator, a chapter on this subject cannot fail to be an eye-opener to the ignorant and a wonderfu!] inspiration to the youth of the race. His condition at emancipation, the help he | commanded and received in one way or | through them millions another, the prejudice confronting e . . . . . - . - . Inconsistencies with which |] liveiy ignorant, the Afro-American finds deal without and within—all emphasize the | himself in the pe | riod of reconstruction a large educational chapter of his history. | factor in the Legislatures of the South. To To briefly state the case as it stood at | him is due the credit of throwing his voting emancipation, he was degraded, superstitious, | strength in favor of a public free schoo] Sys- ignorant, with all the base influences of slay- | tem, which has not only proven his creat ery about him, with here and there a spark | benefactor in the South, but indeed the white of intelligence which had come to some in- | man’s as well. dividuals by reason of contact with the Mas- ter in the “ Big House,” as house servant, butler, etc. was voluntary that he should accept. When the Afro-American was emancipated there came into the field help from al 1 sources ta educate him. Societies that were already organized in the North for work transferred the base of their operations South. las These societies have been multiplied, and of dollars have been him, the | spent upon the race. Though compara- 1e has had to | The effect has been to write a chapter of educational progress that will not grow dim with time. Compelled to live without learn- ing the letter, deprived of the right to cultivate in the most modest way his mind, that he should have made the educational progress which is evident, is nothing less than won- derful. The acceptance at once of such educa- tional proffers as came to him from the The statistics respecting elementary schools and education have already been given in this volume under the title, “Thirty Years of Advancement.” NORMAL EDUCATION, In dealing briefly with the various kinds Seek ee es ee = > — ; | | t ; | ri g a y ; | u i H 4 | A North, was itself a proof of his capacities, for dullness and stupidity would not have so eagerly grasped the opportunity, when to grasp it was a voluntary matter with the individual and not compulsory. It was sompulsory that he should be deprived ; it r - of education. given our race in this hour of their need, we shall discuss the normal training, since it is most popular, and rightiy so, because the demand is greater. ‘The thing necessary for any race emerging from dense ignorance, and ushered immediately into the light of citizenship, is liberal trining, : 81 5 : ~see ee pet i a cet ee ad teeta attaiiadtiatiaatinad 3 ~ ed neieaieaieds Rae dee noe Sw Lo ~ a Fe ee es det = » +b t..%. ip aan hg he gee ae > s s a ce Cw Te a i ie & & . rs eeea gr EONI TAS ABN HREM? AS Bape ten Ds SIT a) orate Ls ladiLabe mane eke eA bac ee AGA PN Ph al TIS ME IE HTS TOE FDOT W IOI = J a | . aS a i. B es: ee Ses BaL eS aD eee 82 THE EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS. such as will fit them for intelligent use of their rights and privileges as good citizens. The quick preparation of teachers and preachers became an urgent necessity. Many friends of the Afro-American to-day believe that an education in the English branches is all that he needs to have. The colored people are largely responsible for this exist- ing sentiment. In many cases the classical training given members of the race has un- ftted them for the duties which the common people demanded, in that they have been shooting over the mark and missing the obiect. The Training Needed. There has also been another class who, thus educated classically and, finding occu- pations in an educational way not compati- ble with the character of their training, have found themselves eventually in the lower strata of pursuits, as waiters, barbers, etc., rather than in the higher walks of life. It is presumed that a man will make a good waiter if he is well up in English branches, without the necessity for a knowledge of the dead languages, science, etc. The argument that normal education is the training that should be given seems justified, as a large majority of those who are most successful are normalites. The most successful Afro- American to-day is a normalite. Thus in this field the wisdom of good normal training is justified. In 1894 there were in round numbers 12,000 colored youth in normal and preparatory normal classes in the institutions of the South. Of this num- ber 4000 were in the normal course proper. This estimate does not include the 2000 students in public high schools, which num- ber is made up from partial returns. The total would, therefore, give us 14,000 normalites in school during 1894. COLLEGE EDUCATION. What has been said under the previous heading was in no wise an argument against classical education. Our statement of the facts in the case was simply to show that the argument for the sentiment in favor of nor- mal education is apparently justified by the conditions which exist. There are abundant proofs of the necessity for classical training among the race, but not so general as in the other case. The classical training of many and their success as linguists, scientists, etc., have proven beyond doubt a capacity for higher training, which has been in dispute ever since emancipation. The eminence of Prof. W. S. Scarborough, of Wilberforce University ; Prof. W. H. Crogman, of Clark University; Prof. D. B. Williams, of Vir- ginia Normal and Collegiate Institute, as Greek and Latin scholars; Prof. Turner, of Clark University, as a scientist; Prof. Kelly Miller, of Howard University, as a mathema- tician, and many others, is abundant proof of capacity to “dive deep and build sure” in the higher education. In the college courses of the institutions South there were 510 students in 1892, and 610 from only partial returns in 1894. PROFESSIONAL TRAINING. In professional life the Afre-American has been very active during the years of his emancipation. Into these fields he has largely gone and not without a great meas- ure of success. His active interest in secur- ing a professional training has been adversely criticised, upon the ground that the race has not builded wisely and sufficiently sure to guarantee the support which professional life demands. The truth of this claim we do not argue, except to say that the facts or condi- tions which exist do not justify the position as to several of the professions.THE EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS. It is certain that the educated ministers of worth are needed to push out the vicious and ignorant man who now in many cases 83 Attorney, Commissioner in Chancery, Cir- cuit Judge, Clerk of Courts and successful practitioner of domestic and international law, There are over 300 colored lawyers before courts of justices in the United States. In 1894, 103 were enrolled in the law schools of the: land. r ignorant and superstitious yet obtain. It is a happy omen of progress in the race that the THE INDUSTRIES. educated minister is fast getting the pulpits of the denominations to which his intelli- gence and his character entitle him. holds forth in the pulpit, a giant of influence over a deluded people. The physician is needed to crowd out the “ quack” and the Pt ty , ER d ae ee a Se LN “herb” doctor, whose practices among the The sentiment of the country has been in favor of industrial éducation for the race with as much zeal as it has been for an English education. The advocacy has been for a literary education that would help the intell- gent application of industrial training. Upor the score that our people should receive a good industrial training, millions of dollars by his people in that he gets employment, | have been given them by those who would but he is paid comparatively better than any | like to see the race build upon absolutely sure foundations. Success in Medicine. The colored physician is a decided success. Failures are the rarest exceptions. As a professional man he is not only appreciated other class who are relying for support prin- cipally upon the race. To their credit it may be said that for the most part the physi- cians are public spirited and engage very largely in helps for their people. In the medical schools of the land there were fully four hundred students in 1895, and the statement of those in charge is that They have wisely given. It is a fact that needs little argument that without men in the trades a race is building on sand. ‘The only thing that can be urged against our labor is that it is not skilled. It is faithful, honest and peaceful. It is there- fore wise to make it skilled. The industrial schools of the South are meeting that demand. An approximation of returns as to the work of industrial schools shows that at least 30,000 have learned trades. There is an average of 15,000 boys and girls in industrial schools. | ri ri 3 Fi ; 7 i ; H , | * P | | i | 4 4 * ; 4 4 4 : a F | evidences point to very great increase in the coming years. The pharmacist accompanies the practitioner in his lucrative practice. No Southern State is now without the druggist. Eighty graduates in pharmacy is the record. Nor is the colored man behind as a dentist. | There are thirty-six in the South, with the NORTHERN PHILANTHROPY. field only partially examined. The success of the Afro-American in the law has been more conspicuous and more creditable to him than in any field. That he should face a judge and jury, if not them- selves prejudiced, yet influenced by a preju- diced sentiment, and gain his case, is nothing less than creditable to him. As a jurist he has found himself a Judge, District and City Too much credit cannot be given the North for the part she has played in the education of her black brethren in the South. Except from interest in humanity, she was not compelled to thus help the race, and this emphasizes the help she has furnished since emancipation. The historian can never tell the whole truth as to the philanthropy of the North, Even in organized channels it is By fe." A . = ee edna a eee " 5 £1 CRIMP PRIOR, Sten nb te ea aeied eeem SNMP RS DR Ci nN es IRB rm ear ead pt ae Deena De ill ie Me Pa LEN Pas : o ; a a cS a 4 ee - oe ; — . 4 7 SS a7 t oe . a4 | q a A ; a = @ i E : : 7 84 THE EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS. difficult ‘9 secure accuracy as to the amount which Las come from the North in the inter- est of education in the South. In 1892 the statistician of the American Association of Educators of Colored Youth reported that, as far as the records were open to him, the total sum of $12,975,401 had been expended through organized channels. If to this large amount we add the $991,562 expended in the scholastic year of 1893- 1894, it will be seen that we have a magnifi- cent total, and this is but part of the story. The total valuation of property under the care of societies and churches tor the educa- tion of the race is $6,692,759. SOUTHERN APPROPRIATION. To the credit of the South, she has been also liberal to Afro-American education. She has not dealt as unjustly in this cause as some have pictured. The difference in the aid she has extended and that of the North is simply that Northern aid was vol- untary, while the South, in obedience to laws made by herself, is compelled to pro vide for her black population. It is to her credit that she has done well when it is remembered that there is no comparison between the taxes upon Afro-American property and the expenditure upon the free education of the race. She ought to have credit for establish- ment and maintenance of State normal schools and colleges. When the hot-headed have advocated their abolition the cooler heads have pleaded for fair play to the col- ored people. She should have credit for | employing colored presidents and professors in her State schools. More than any sec- tion has she given evidence in favor of classi- cal training, however much she may have been charged with failure to encourage such for the classically trained has been found in the State normal and industrial schools and colleges. The South has founded a school property for the race amounting to $657, 030, and appropriations annually of $138,756 for their maintenance. In every Southern State very liberal appropriations obtain, with Virginia in the lead, which appropriates an- nually $25,000. The expenditure in public school education of our youth in 1893-1894 was ten million dollars. NATIONAL GOVERNMENT AID. The failure of Congress to pass the Pub- lic Educational bill offered by ex-Senator Blair, was somewhat crushing to our people, who were in need of its benefits. On this account it may be interesting to know just how much and in what way the Ynited States Government is helping toward the education of the race. Howard University, Washington, D. C., receives on an average per annum an appropriation of $25,000. Under the new Morrill Act of Congress, funds accruing from certain goveriment lands are appropriated to agricultural and ‘ndustrial institutions of the land. Colored schools receive from this fund $66,100, mak- ing a total from the Government of $91,100 for Afro-American education. SELF-EDUCATION SUPPORT. In recent years philanthropists have main- tained that our race after years of help, and because of the accumulation of property, a ought to be willing to help themselves. Now, it has been ascertained that for the scholastic year 1892-1893, one-third of the amount spent upon the colored normal and higher schools was furnished by the race. This was also the case for the next scholastic | year. That this is a fact, and that the grow- training. The fact remains that a market | ing tendency of the race is to do more towardTHE EDUCATIONAL PROGRESS. eel{-educational support, is acknowledged by many of the societies in their annual 83 few hints to parents on the apparent one- sidedness of their family education. To the observant man it is not hard to see that more iN NORTHERN INSTITUTIONS. attention is being paid to the training of girls assi- | to-day than boys. cal training to the fact that the race had de- The girl girl is educated to eventually become monstrated a capacity for higher education. | the wife of an uneducated man. Of such If additional proof of this Capacity in com- | unequal yoking the results in life are too parison with other races is needed, we have plain at first sight to call for much comment. only to consult the records of Northern Returns show that in the schools there are schools in which the Afro-American has } more girls than boys, and further, that a been a student. greater percentage of girls remain the entire term than boys. reports. Reference was made in the item on cl] a uN ‘ ee ee ee Teta eS It is a fact well known that he has never failed to be among the leaders. Morgan and Du Bois, of Harvard: Grimke, at Princeton; Palmer, Jason and Bundy, at Drew; Cook, at Cornell; Bowen and John- son, at Boston University; Many, at Univer- sity of Pennsylvania; Jackson, at Amherst : Colson, at Dartmouth; Peques and Brawley, at Bucknell, Pa.; and others at Yale, anda The information obtained from a majority of those in position to know is to the effect that the girls are more studious than the average boy. If the education of the race is one-sided, as it appears from such a view, we are not accomplishing the end desired. The side of our race as it relates to intell1- host or others in similar institutions are proof positive of the race’s capacity. These stu- dents have all held high rank, and many white faces have been their followers. gence and character, is to be presented in the al 4 : a 4 - : . a) f a4 5 A { | , r : : : men of the race as well as in the women. No argument is offered against the education of the girl, but a prayer and petition accom- panies this volume in the interest of the edu- OUR BOYS AND GIRLS. cation of the boy, that he may be fitted to worthily represent his race when necessity demands. ee a In concluding this chapter and knowing as the writer does into whose hands this vol- ume will go, he cannot forbear offering a roe Side by side let the sexes grow in knowledge and refinement. a ee ee ee ee : a ees ee 7 se 4 , ead ee tl eeedied aaaee TE: rer Tay ea ela aca ee eee ee ee oe Yaa? Seer ees eee: RAO iad Bn ll os: . _ ¢ 4 Pie he - 2 a RISE AND PROGRESS OF AFRO.- AMERICAN LITERATURE By Pror. I. GARLAND PENN. be remembered that the transfer of slavery from North to South left many freedmen in As a slave he was HERE is probably no phase of Afro-American progress that fur- so fruitful a theme for | the Northern States. making history, though sad; as a freedman he was making history more pleasant and laudable in character. Thus the character of our literature was early shaped into that comparatively unknown. To the sixty odd | of history which remains largely unto this millions of our population our literary ac- | day. Out of these facts comes the rise of complishments are almost a blank, if not a | Afro-American literature, yet not its genesis, blank entirely. The star which marks the | for two very important works had been literary horizon is one whose lack of bright- | issued prior to this time, one of poetry and ness is its most remarkable characteristic. another of science, of which we should never By this statement | mean to say that few | lose sight. Some thirty odd years befcre works of Afro-American authorship are this Phyllis Wheatley had issued a volume known to the masses, while the bulk remains | of poems and Benjamin Bannaker a work of yet to be introduced. One reason for this is | that few works have been subjected to ex- mended and worthily praised by Washing- ton, Jefferson and other distinguished states- nishes thought and meditation as does the rise and development of Afro-American lit- erature, yet, notwithstanding this fact, we are as a race, from a literary point of view, science. Both efforts were highly com- amination and allowed to come under the | critic’s eye, or, if submitted, they were found | men of that period. wanting in the scale of literary criticism, which prevented favorable mention or en- dorsement. I venture the opinion that much Recalling the fact that as a freedman in of the literature that is good and commenda- | one section of the Union the Afro-American began to make history and to be the subject First Afro-American Newspaper. ble is not known, simply because it has not been put in the hands of those who are pre- | for history, as a natural sequence he began pared to pronounce a just and impartial ver- | to prepare a literature of his own in the dict upon it. I will note the character of | absence of any such preparation upon the our literature, which seems to be necessary | part of others. The need of a journal was before its rise and progress can be discussed. | most manifest, which was met in the issuance The Afro-American as a slave needed no | of the first Afro-American paper, /reedom’s literature, for he was not allowed to use it, | Journal, in 1827. In this journal the past and was nt capable of using it. But it will | efforts, the present condition and the future 86THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF LITERATURE. of the Afro-American was the one subject considered most important, and hence most discussed. A view of the past revealed the fact that the Afro-American had conducted himself befitting a patriot in the Revolutionary period, who desired to see his land rid of taxation without representation. It was felt that these black patriots should not go un- noticed, hence William C. Nell, of Boston, met the emergency with the publication of “The Colored Patriots in the American Revolution.” It was a work of 396 pages and was graced with an introduction by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Said she: “ This work has been compiled as a means of en- lightening public sentiment in an interesting but much neglected department of American history.”’ The Editor and Orator. In considering the present and future, it was plainly seen that to arouse popular sen- timent in favor of abolition in the South and equality of rights in the North, the Afro- American must himself produce the editor and orator. It was not long before they were raised in the person of Russwurm, Cor- nish, Bell, McCune Smith, Myers, Garnett, Ray, Hodges, Ruggles, Wilson, Remond, Delaney, Pennington, Purvis, Downing, Vashon and the matchless and fearless leader, Frederick Douglass. With forceful editorials and persuasive oratory, these men, in sanctum and on rostrum, created a senti- ment for their cause, the results of which are too well known for restatement here. No one will deny that these men made history and were themselves fit subjects for the historian’s pen. In the absence of the | from 1619 to 1880.” historian, Fred. Douglass related his own | of the book entitled “ Williams’ bondage and .freedom in a published work | Troops.” 87 Lhe Wesleyan, a deservedly popular paper, said of the book: “ This is a splendid work. The personal worth of the author, the de- served popularity he has secured throughout this nation, and the universal desire that pre- vails to have a memento of one of Nature’s noblemen, will conspire to create an unpre- cedented demand for this book,” Published Works, It was left for Dr. William Welles Brown to relate the deeds and work of the others, which he did in an admirable publication entitled, “The Black Man.” Dr. Brown afterwards issued several works, the most notable being the one entitled, “The Rising Sun.” Besides these works of history and biography, a careful research and _ patient investigation reveals the fact that thirty-five works of Afro-American authorships were issued and being sold prior to 1861. Judging from the comments of the news- papers and the ability of the authors, very few of whom live now, most of these works were of an excellent literary character. Among them were efforts of science, poetry and art, and it is but just to say that even under the present changed conditions of Afro-American life, I have found no such efforts in so large and varied forms as those of that unfavorable period. After a few years of educational advance- ment and wonderful strides of progress, a history of the race from its entrance in this country was a thing of evident necessity, and the historian was brought forth in the person of Colonel George W. Williams, of Ohio, who wrote the voluminous history known as “The History of the Negro Race in America He was also author Negro entitled “My Bondage and My Freedom.” These works, with the “ Life and Times of hs te RP ROR CT ON Pic AR NN RO titel ateriamaniindiiin Od ed _ a ‘ | ell . BB tebe Le ae ro ad APP PPP PINAL Re eeeee ree ond en ical alee ea cite: ee a ict A/S Sy Oa oe Oe a ba Ne Pa PREM PD lols Sad Look I EI IETS - = ES “4 SA ok Saeee ae Boe Sa OER. CMPLD SCRE ORI NTR LENA Rois Bolle Sati 8&8 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF LITERATURE. Frederick Douglass” and the “Black Bri- gade,” by Prof. P. H. Clark, served the race most splendidly until 1880, when a revival of Afro-American literature seems to have taken place. The distinctive Afro-American churches tad made a history for themselves, and it was felt that this ought to be recorded. Bishop Daniel A. Payne wrote his “ Recol- lections of Seventy Years;” Bishop A. W. Wayman, “The Cyclopedia of the A. M. E. Church ;” Bishop B. T. Tanner his “ Apol- ogy for African Methodism ; "] Bishop J. ). Moore, “The History of the A. Mao Church,” while Bishop D. A. Payne is the author of a-similar work in two volumes. Bishop J. W. Hood, of the AM. EZ. Church, has issued a voluminous history of that church which is remarkable for its in- trinsic merit. Surprising Advancement. A careful survey of the field from 1880 to 1890 shows an astonishingly large num- ber of productions in history, biography, poetry, religious, imaginative and _ pure liter- ature. I have closely calculated the num- ber of works published in the ten years, and for every one published prior to 1875 I have found ten published in the decade from 1880 to 1890. Since it is highly probable that much of this literature is not known, I might, with profit to the reader, particularize. In addi- tion to the published works in history here- tofore mentioned there were added in this decade to the list: “The Black Phalanx,” by the late Colonel Joseph T. Wilson, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, which recorded the most formidable as well as praiseworthy efforts of black patriots in the wars of 1812 and 1865; ‘‘ The Colored Man in the M. E. Church,” by Rev. L. M. Hagood, M. D.; “ The Underground Rail. road,” by William T. Still, a large octavo volume of 780 pages, which tells the achieve- ments of that historic society of abolitionists. To these must be added ‘‘ The Afro-Amer- ‘can Press and its Editors,” 570 pages, which gives the story of the race’s achievements in journalism ; ‘‘ Music and Some Highly Mu- sical People,” by the late Recorder, J. M. Trotter, giving the history of musical men and women of the race and their deeds ; “The History of Independent Methodism,” by Dr. A; R. Green,” The Black Brigade,” by Prof. Peter H. Clark, a work on Afro- American Soldiers. Records of Noble Women. “The work of Afro-American women,” by Mrs. N. F. Mossell, of Philadelphia, is another effort of a commendable character. In two other publications monuments are erected to the successes and triumphs of our womanhood. ‘“ Women of Distinction,” by Dr. L. A. Scruggs, of Raleigh, N. C., 1s a historical treatise on the work of our women that is well worthy ofthem. ‘“ Noted Negro Women,” by Dr. M. A. Majors, of Fort Worth, Texas, is another valuable book. These histories with those heretofore men- tioned, give ample food for the rising Afro- American to feed upon in his endeavors to climb the heights. The most of these warks have also touched upon biography, realizing the truth of Emerson’s statement that “‘ there is properly no history, only biography.” There have, however, been special works of biography. ‘ Men of Mark,” by the late Rev. W. J. Simmons, D.D., is the most popular and the only one outside of denomi- national biographies. ‘Our Baptist Minis- ters and Schools” is a work by Dr. A. W. Pegues of 640 pages, which is in itself a ref- utation of the statement as to the immens¢THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF LITERATURE. ignorance prevailing among ministers of that denomination. discover few who are not men of training, 1 . eee a ieee . the same having been acquired in some one of the schools controlled by the American Baptist Home Mission Society. Works of Rare Merit. “Our Pulpit Illustrated,” by Rev. E. R Carter, of Atlanta, Ga.. is a biographical work of merit. Mr. Carter is also author of a work on the Holy Land and a history of the progress made by the negro in the City of Atlanta. An autobiographical work, en- titled ‘‘ From the Virginia Plantation to the National Capitol,” by Hon. John Mercer Langston, ex-Congressman, and the only colored Congressman ever in the House from Virginia, is a large and exceedingly creditable production, not only from the in- formation it gives, but, indeed, the compo- sition. The late works on “ Frederick Douglass as an Orator,” by Prof. James M. Gregory, and one entitled “ Life and Times of Fred. Douglass,’ serve well the necessity for a record of the deeds and triumphs of the “Old Man Eloquent,” now that he is no more. In poetry we have had some highly cred- itable productions during the decade. Mrs. F. E. U. Harper is the oldest and most pop- ular in this branch of imaginative literature. Dr. A. A. Whitman’s production, “The Rape of Florida,” is a painstaking work of literary value. W. H. A. Moore, Esq., of New York, bids fair to be the giant in this field. “ Thoughts in Verse,”’ by Rev. George C. Rome, is another book of poems that has | ¢erly says: Out of the large number of biographical sketches given in this book I 89 is a poet of very great ability. His poems find their way on merit only into the leading magazines of the land. A poem entitled “Negro Love Song,” in Zhe Century maga- zine, is a great credit to himself and satisfac- tion to his race. D. Webster Davis, of Richmond, Va., has a book of poems which are pronounced by all to be brilliant. Other works of a poetical character may be expected from the pens of some of the brightest of the race who have hitherto been, content to publish their poems in news- papers, without further effort. In theologi- cal, sermonic and general religious works the number has been large, and, truth to say, most of them have had large sale among the race and must have accomplished much good. Some of them are remarkable for their breadth of discussion and profound- ness of argument, while the language em- ployed is marvellously chaste and refined. Their names are not here given for lack of Space, Department of Fiction. In story writing Mrs. A. E. Johnson, of Baltimore, is the author of a very creditable book, widely read and valued by people of both races for its style. There is no author whose productions have brought more credit to the race than Mrs. Johnson’s. Their sale has not been confined to the race alone, but are to be found in many white libraries of the land: Her work, known. as. “ihe Hazely Family,” ss a gem. One of the best. productions in novel form yet produced by the race is known as “ Ap. pointed,” by two brilliant writers, Messrs. W. H. Stowers and W. H. Anderson, of Detroit Mich. Of this work the A.M. £. Zion Quar- ““« Appointed’ is typically an : ; 2 ” a received flattering encomiums from both | American novel, strictly up to date.” Mrs. press and people. Paul Lawrence Dunbar ! F. E. W. Harper issued another work of a dj 4 4 ; ; a + | a) P 4 F 4 : 3 Py : | 4 i ¥ . eee Ee enemas bias =e ee ne eee eel ae Be “ , . ~~ ’~ ln SN aenee ee ee Ck oe re Lay ea ead aca a ato AW 2 : 5 a arse ec Bete Beg 9 Te APO NN AI EIN aE aaa itn ea ak ITT ae as OS of S a a a A FA § SA ee RS ES SAVER EMPRESS OTRAS LANA Rey Re an eer RU 90 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF LITERATURE. novelistic character, entitled “Iola Leroy.” It is regarded by many as a work of excep- tional merit. Mrs. A. J. Cooper, of Washington, D. Cy another polished writer, has published a work which is pronounced excellent by all irrespective of race. It is entitled ““ A Voice from a Black Woman of the South.” She treats subjects bearing upon the race relation, etc., with profound thought and reason. She ranks as one of the greatest women of her time in ripeness of scholarship and the ease with which she treats the problems and ques- tions of the hour. In text-book work Prof. W. S. Scarbor- | ough, widely known, has published the only linguistic work, “ First Lessons in Greela; Prof. E. A. Johnson the only school history, “The School History of the Negro Race in America;’? Dr. D. B. Williams, the only scientific work, “Science, Art and Methods of Teaching.” ‘Grammar Land,” is the title of a small but interesting treatise for beginners by the late Mrs. L. F. Scruggs, of Raleigh, N. C. These text-books are being used in many of the leading colleges and normal schools of the country. In general literature, ‘‘ Africa and America,” Rev. A. Crummell, D.D. ; “ Black and White,” Hon. T. T. Fortune; “Don't,” Rev. R. C. O. Benjamin; “ Libe- ria,” T. McCants Stewart, Esq.; “ The New South Investigated,” D. A. Strater, LL.D. ; | “Freedom and Progress,” Dr. D. B. Wil- liams; ‘“‘ Lectures and Addresses,” Hon. J. M. Langston; “ Architecture and Building,” R. Charles Bates; “ Orations and Speeches,” J. W. Ashley, edited by Bishop B. W. Arnett; “Plain Talks,’ Rev. Jo We Bowen, D.D., are among the best and most important. A large number of other works have been issued of history and biography, of a local character, which are well written and have served well the purposes for which they were brought out. Even though our literature has been mainly confined to us as a race, we have hopes that the reader will admit that progress has been made. Of necessity a race literature had to be made in the absence of proper recognition by American historians and writers. I have hopes, however, that this state of affairs will not longer exist, that the scope and influence of our literature may be broadened by a recognition of the Afro- American as a writer, and by his own perse- verance in seeking to adjust himself, pure and simple, to American life. I have no doubt that as the idea of citizenship, patriotism, and the responsibility belonging thereto, becomes more natural to the Afro-American and he arrives at the point when he considers him- self not as an Afro-American, but an Ameri- can citizen, his literature, his politics and his religious life will stand forth in grander pro- portions.INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION, 1895 By Pror. I. GARLAND PENN O those who attended the World’s Columbian Exposition, held in Chi- cago in 1893, it is a well-known fact that the resources of the South- ern States were not creditably shown. With State appropriations and a proper compre- hension of the magnitude of the Fair, this would seem surprising, but as the Hon. Clark Howell, editor of the Av/anta Constttu- tion, puts it in the Rewew of Reviews for February, 1895, ‘‘ The South was not ade- quately represented at Chicago, because of peculiar difficulties in the organic law of the Southern States.” This failure, and a consequent need, well- nigh imperative, for the South to show in what respect it is great, led to a representa- tive meeting of the business men of Atlanta, who conceived, brought forth and named the Cotton States and International Exposi- tion, which is justly termed the ‘‘ World’s Event of 1895.” Itis generally termed by the people of the South, particularly the col- ored, the “ World’s Fair of the South.” From an Afro-American standpoint it is truly suggestive, for the relations which he sustains to the mammoth enterprise make it his World’s Fair, in the absence of a similar opportunity at Chicago, for which he pe- titioned and prayed. Shortly after it had been given to the pub- lic of Atlanta and the country in general that the South would try its hand on a great Fair, Bishop W. J. Gaines, one of the most highly respected citizens of that city, as well can Methodist Episcopal Church, together with Mr. W. H. Rucker, called incidentally upon Mr. Samuel M. Inman, of Atlanta, a wealthy philanthropic citizen, the head of the greatest cotton house in the world, and suggested to him what a unique and interest- ing feature a special exhibit of Afro-Ameri- can progress would be as a part of the Fair. The idea was well received by Mr. Inman and further attention given it by all con- cerned, which resulted in an invitation to the colored population of America, the South particularly, to take a part in the fourth great exposition held on the American con- tinent. A Surprising Spectacle. The significance of the invitation is seen when the striking contrast is made that a people who thirty years ago, in ignorance and dense darkness, were upon exhibition on this very soil as slaves, bartered and sold at will, are in less than three decades asked to show their PROGRESS, and to assist in making successful a great exposition by ex- hibiting the resources of the country in which they and the dominant class are by implication considered common factors. That they are regarded common factors is not only implied, but acknowledged, as may; be seen in the following written us by one of the most wealthy and aristocratic men in the South. Says he: ‘‘I feel the greatest inter- est in the development of your people, and especially in any movement which tends to as a most distinguished prelate in the Afri- make the white and colored people feel thas 91 ; : r / 8 ; ? | * mf | i ce 3 | : 5 _-s ee Ce ee OT ea ee | ted ko Pad t. & PIN WE ban be Pe ee92 INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. their lot has been cast together and their in- | a salaried Chief of the Afro-American Depart. terests and their future are one.” ment, with other incidencal items, were the A building covering 25,000 square feet, to prerequisites of the invication so generously extended, and so cordially accepted | by the Cotton States and Internationa) Exposition Company and the colored OS re ec en anak a esata or | | | people respectively. | The race was expected to collect ", Tr pray an f nl iM Fal? : SW $! Hl | RE AAT their own exhibits and raise the funds | | VS | | | . ° 4 a | therefor, as a substantial evidence of | yy SI] | | S i 1 ; Sl! a Ml so much desired in our people. For Kiet EEG CP y 6 aif? i iy C | | 2 ¥ AW self-interest and self-help, a character ill | il AR He SNS < : e . = ARAN She is this purpose a commussion of gentle- ag NCR ay " i RE Ree " ay men were appointed in each State, ; RABAT AL AY tet 7 ‘ NBER ed 0) numbering in all 110 persons. if Ot ies ‘ey 5 Coy 2) oF, Subsequently, Chief Commissioners were appointed, who formed a Central Trae ne SEL aa a es Ue ak Pee a tal SOS ad Board, which constituted the legisla- tive power in the management of the building. On January 19, 1895, the Central Board met in Atlanta, Ga., a Clark University, and organized by the selection of Prof. W. H. Crog- ATLANTA EXPOSITION. it EET Etats ARRRAR anne nanny Drill man, of Georgia, Chairman, and If. Garland Penn, Virginia, Secretary. Plans for the collection of the exhibits were well laid. JI. Garland Penn was nominated Chief of the Afro-Ameri- can Department, with headquarters in Atlanta, at a salary commensurate AFRO-AMERICAN BUILDING AT Ud ae, ee » 2 yy ¢. A “ } - 5 i" 4 Cr ye yyyy iyo Sah, Ay e Syn US - Leys, LUG, f - ; with his labors. His nomination was. Rye ||| . s e eh unanimously confirmed by the Execu- ; tive Committee of the Exposition Com- | pany, on motion of ex-Mavor and First Vice-President Colonel W. A. Hemphill, Business Manager Ad/axta Vet Meso EL pos OP Nes (i i Constitution. ot ioe Exhibits in every department of SLLIIDLSL ALL Afro-American progress tell their own story—the thrilling ster of cost $9,923, with no charges as to entrance | marvellous advancement in education, atw, or rent fees, our exhibits, a gift of $4,400, | all that belongs to the highest type of civi placed at the disposal of our Commissioners, | lization and refinement. of pe a4 - See e . ‘ i ; 4 e oo 2 ey - ‘ Pe We abilINTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. The impression made ge the press and , They have made a good start with good people of Atlanta by the Central Board of | men at the head, and they will make a suc- Chief Commissioners was a happy recogni- | cess of their exhibit.” tion of the race’s advancement and its at- In its news columns of the same date 9 tempt to surmount difficulties, scale the putting the finishing touches on the work mountains of disagreeable environment and fae “ " , pels ed ee CN accomplished, the editor wrote to greater ; triumph in the light of civilization and pro- | satisfaction than he knew. Said he: gress. Lhe Constitution said, editorially, “There was a notable gathering of colored January 20, 1895, the following: men of the South in Atlanta, Friday and yesterday. Some of the finest representa- Doing a Good Work. = tives of the race were present, and the pur- colored “The brainy and _ enterprising commissioners from many States who are pose of the meeting was to take in charge the important work of collecting from all now in Atlanta perfecting their plans for a | over the South interesting exhibits, showing building at the Exposition to be filled with | the progress and condition of the colored race at the Exposition to be held here this and they are the right men in the right place. | fall. I Such men as I. Garland Penn, B. T. Wash- ington, Isaiah Montgomery and W. H. Crog- exhibits by their race are doing a good work, The men who came here to take charge of the work were men of affairs among the Negroes of the South. Nearly every man among them has some large enterprise in hand, and the purpose by which man and the other commissioners would be prominent and useful citizens in any commu- ad a 7 : r 4 ; A F | a . 4 ; | | 4 ; oe nity. We are gratified to see that these they were all moved, was the improvement progressive leaders of their race recognize the | and elevation of their people. benefit that the colored people will derive from the Exposition if they make a first-class A Great Feature of the Exposition. exhibit. This is the only opportunity that eee Ee ‘Handled by such able men this credi- table effort will doubtless prove one of the most interesting features of the Exposition. The exhibit will be interesting because of its they have ever had to show the world what they have learned and accomplished in thirty Shaan! years of freedom, and they should make the most of it. uniqueness and because of its historical value. Special attention is to be given to the ar- rangements of the exhibits so that the various stages of progress of the race may be illus- in the learned professions. | trated to the visitor. When we judge them, not from the heights “The colored people of the country now own $300,000,000 worth of property. T 1ey have made great progress in the arts and | sciences anc It was a gathering of men who are interesting to study, men who, by reason of their innate force, have lifted themselves from lowly estates to positions of usefulness and promise.’ on which we stand, but from the depths out of which they have risen, we must admit that they have made a fine record. These peace- able, faithful, intelligent and enterprising peo- In addition to the organization already ple deserve every encouragement from their | referred to, several travelling commussioners white neighbors, and they may rest assured | were appointed. that their exhibit will attract as much atten- : fet" ee . . oo ial ae al Notably among them were H. E. Wilson, Esq., of Chicago, and Rev. tion as any other feature of the Exposition. | B. B. Hill, of Oberlin, Ohio. The complete ae me canton ednee, eee revise! Chk ee a ee Tae) ea eae sealant ot Cm 1 i ON NA NES ORS MENT is Yo aie Gorgterter a aan eee ee ae ee i E i : - ' : of a # H 2 = # a) ¥ § 4 . f ri ki “¥ a % — - 3 & | ) A ae Sy INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. organization thus formed, which not only had the entire approval of the press of the country, but the people as well, was a decided prophesy that the race, if efficiently supported, would be fittingly and worthily represented. | It was estimated that the collection of a creditable exhibit for the Exposition meant an outlay of fifty or sixty thousand dollars. That the people have given this 1s best seen by the exhibit made along all lines and ave- nues of life work. It shows the Afro-Ameri- can as a business man, as a mechanic, an agriculturist, an inventor, an educator, etc. All Trades and Professions. As a business man, the exhibit shows the banking and real estate interests, boot and shoe interests, druggists, dry goods, hard- ware and general merchandise. As a me- chanic, the exhibit shows him a machinist, carpenter, wheelwright, cabinet-maker, up- | holsterer, inventor, blacksmith, stone and brick mason, owner and maker of the finest | quality of bricks. As an agriculturist it proves him beyond | doubt the bone and sinew of the South. As an educator, the exhibit proves his progress | in art, science and literature. His paintings, decorations, etc., in the exhibit and artistic needlework of the women of the race, area proof of the strides he has made from the pit in which he found himself thirty years ago and the rock from which he has been hewn. As a scientist, the exhibit shows his knowledge of scientific studies and discovery. From an intellectual point of view the ex- hibit portrays his proficiency in drawing, pen- manship, linguistic studies which are diffi- cult, and his knowledge of history, ancient and modern. In literature, the exhibit | shows that he has put upon the market a creditable array of books, and that to his credit he has not left unchronicled the his- tory of his marvellous progress, since in the general history of the country, of which he is a part, he is neglected and allowed no quarters. Having given the history of the movement and the exhibit of the colored people, it 1s in no sense an unwise idea to let the reader know why the Afro-American is happy to make such a display of his progress. The Reasons. He has always been patriotic, ready and willing to show up the bright side of his country; thus he is content to help the South, the land of his present and future abode. Thus joining hands with his white fellow- citizens in a common cause, for a common end, he hopes by a positive proof of his interest to cultivate friendly relations with the South. He hopes that the logical result of patri- otism and interest in the South will be the placing upon the statute books of every State, laws against lynching and mob violence, and the erasure of such laws of proscription as are directed specifically against him. He wishes to meet and contradict a pre- valent impression that he has not made the progress claimed for him. Such an impres- sion being not alone in his own country, but in all lands, the opportunity for an Inter- national view of his progress has come for the first time, an opportunity which he ts quite aware he cannot make for himself. He desires, as it were, to drive the nail by an exhibition of his progress under trying cir- cumstances, and clinch it at the same time.rd Noted Arro-AmMERICAN WOMEN AND THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS HENEVER women have ha good opportunities for self- improvement, th ey. hav shown themselves the equals, in many respects, of those who are dignified by the title of “the stronger sex.” Some of d | clothes with the Union soldiers, and caused them to hide the soldiers at the risk of their own lives, seemed a part of their natures, Generosity is S a characteristic of our women. Rarely indeed does an appeal for help, coming from any source fall unheeded the brightest minds, many of the best scholars, many who are conferring rich lustre upon the Afro-American name, are women. It would be impossible within the compass of this volume to give sketches and narrate the proud achievements of all who have dis tinguished themselves as teachers, musicians, readers, journalists and correspondents, authors and business Managers, or who, as wives and mothers, have made the home a sacred place, and have planted seeds of the noblest character in the minds and hearts of the rising generation. Only a limited number of examples can be given, sufficient to indicate what our | women can accomplish. And it must steadily be borne in mind that these, and all other similar examples, are furnished as an encouragement and impulse to our colored people, that they may be urged on to make the most of themselves and obtain a position and influence equal to their capabilities. Although uneducated and poor, Afro- American women have been large hearted and ambitious. The first five dollars that was given to the Lincoln Monument, was given by Charlotte Cushman, an ex-slave. The spirit of kindness and self-denial that animated the bosom of our women, when upon their ears. Out of their poverty, they give largely, and no class of women on the globe excel them in benevolence. Self-Sacrificing Mothers. Left penniless at the close of the war, many of them with large families dependent upon them. instead of wringing their hands in despair, they went cheerfully forward to | build homes, to educate their children and if | possible to lay by a bit for a rainy day. | Like the mother of the late Dr. Simmons, | many of our women toiled both early and late at the washtub in order that their chil- | dren might have the intellectual training of | which they themselves had been so unjustly | deprived. | And how proud of these mothers should these children be, and how grateful for the many sacrifices that have been made for them. Every wrinkle in the dear old face should be regarded as a thing of beauty, and it should be the aim of their after lives to make life pleasant for their parents. But to return, by their frugality and labors their husbands were able to purchase homes, those who desired to do so, and to contribute largely to the cause of the Gospel and of during the war they divided their crusts and education. Many of these noble women are dead now, but their memory is yet green and 95 fd + | . ¢ a P 3 a s ‘A Pa t e a a A . 5 a | ry A A ; a | ! 4 Ri a i a ; ro 4 4 : t . BY o I 41 3 | A i H bc 4 i PI i a ‘ 7 mf oe ee - cee en, ee Sie o ed TN es tebeSO eae De er oy eee mela beast ae ea te A Ol OT ee AR PL EN PD la i ia Pinar cad i Be es LIT tt bbl gOS : 7 - - & - 4 Or A ce ee oe eee Se bea ee v6 their children rise up and call them blessed. What can we say of our progress to con- vince skeptical friends, black and white, that our women are deserving of credit? We will touch briefly upon their relation with the religious world. What would be the condition at the churches cf all races and denominations, if the women were to withdraw their moral and financial support? The result is fright- ful to contemplate! Our women seem pect liarly adapted to church work, in fact for benevolent work of any nature. Generous Helpers. It is the women in our churches who assist the perplexed pastor in devising plans for ‘he annihilation of burdensome church debts, and who assume the charge of clothing the pastor and his needy family in a little purple and fine linen occasionally ; who prepare at home, little feasts and invite this everyday hero, that he may fare sumptuously at least one day out of the seven, and who often seem to their pastor angels in disguise. By organizing themselves into aid socie- ties, known as King’s Daughters, Gleaners, Women’s Christian Temperance Union, Ep- worth League, Baptist Union and Christian Endeavorers, they have been able to do much good. It is often seen in the columns of our race journals, that in various places our women have raised immense sums for the erection or renovation of churches or for some Christian enterprise. One women's organization known as the “ Women’s Mite Missionary Society of the A. M. Be ehareh:* raised $1,525.40 during one year Also we have a female Evangelist, Mrs. Amanda Smith, who has travelled exten- sively and who has already published a book, relating her experiences in the Old and New World. There are missionaries NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. living who have immortalized their names by their zeal in carrying the Gospel to heathen Africa, women brave and true, like Mrs. Ridgel who accompanied her husband to Africa and succeeded in opening up a girl’s school and who has written such inter- esting letters home to us. Let us now take a bird's eye view of Afro- American women in educational lines. Religion and education are closely allied. Under this head we will for the sake of brevity consider education in its broadest ense—that is the mental development of all We will first speak of that ho are known as business S the faculties. class of women W women Capacity for Business. It has been asserted by the enemies of the Afro-American race, that their women have no business capacity. But what are the facts of the case? In almost every avenue of business, our women are rapidly becoming engaged and where they are not, is due to predjudice rather than incompetence. The Dinahs and Chloes of ante-bellum days, who were then justly noted for their exquisite cookery, have bequeathed to their descendants a talent for cooking, which when cultivated, is hard to be excelled by the most | accomplished English or French Chefs. | Besides those who command good salaries | as cooks in public and private establishments, | there are those who are engaged in manag- | ing hotels, boarding-houses, restaurants and | catering establishments upon their own | accounts. In New Orleans, there are Afro-American | women, who earn a fair living by selling through the streets, bread, fruits, cakes and pies. It is impossible to enumerate the vast | number who have purchased homes, yes, | have become owners of snug fortunes byNOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. doing faundry work, this ha 4 never failing | resource and almost universal occupation of | the laboring class of our women. business women need most is our cordial support in every way and when they obtain Instead | it they will create a place for themselves in of scorning this useful occupation, they have | the business world that shall win the embraced it as a friend In addition to that which sady, it is encouraging to and through its aid | admiration of all. have realized many cherished dreams. they have done alre | They made the foaming washtub note that they are taking the lead in forming With honest labor ring, co-operative associations for the establish- And in its soapy contents, oe . : ieee a ment of banks, stores, and industrial training Saw many a precious thing. 2 schools. God bless our business women; Another profitable eipoyment for our | and may their number increase daily women is that of sewing. The women who | When we come to musicians we are com- as slaves so artistically fashioned and draped pelled to look here and there and select out now | of the have the pleasure of seeing their daughters 1 ai nar saps ten bic aes eae A - . tne silken garments of theit mustresses, creat number of really meritorious } mt isicians whom we know. succeeding in life aS dressmakers, OWNING | As a singer and ait ey teacher of vocal and elegantly appointed shops, and receiving the | instrumental music, Miss Nellie Brown Mit- best of prices for their work. | chell, a graduate of the New England Con- servatory of Music, ranks very high. Miss Bath hel ney xy or Mitchell was for two years at the head of the department of vocal music at Hedding Acad- y, New Hampshire, where all of the pupils were white. Madame Sisseretta Jones, the black Patti, whose voice in some elements is said to rival that of Adelina Patti, is un- Besides dressmakers there are hundreds who sew by the day, earning from fifty cents fo $2.00 per day, according to the quality of | their work. There are others who earn con- siderable by doing artistic needle work, fancy work, as some call it. As in every ibtedly, if all press comments are true, the sreatest female singer of the race. When : | other trade, we find that the most competent | . : eo [adame Jones appears in public, she wears | | | receive the best pay, for there is always “room at the top.” There was never period in our history when our fee makers were patronized by the women of pon her breast medals that have been be- eaten upon her by foreign countries. This sifted creature of song travels under the + | management of Major Pond, who also con- but this ungenerous spirit is being displaced the race as liberally as they deserved to be tracts engagements for nearly all the white notables in the lecture field. makers are better appreciated by both Afro- | We by one of sweet helpfulness, and our dress- > take pleasure in furnishing sketches of a few who have distinguished themselves in the musical world. American and white women. Besides, there are women who are clerks, barbers, dealers in second-hand clothing and in various kinds of merchandise. MRS. C. A. JOHNSON. In the face of these facts who shall dare This gifted lady was born in Ironton, in assert that our women have no _ business 1868, and graduated from the Ironton High capacity ? Verily it doth appear that their | School in 1886. Her maiden name was ability exceeds their opportunity. What our | Reynolds. She married C. A. Johnson in G f é i ‘ r - * Pe | nm . 4 a I oo a F rd * ] | Py a ‘ | s « * PI j o 4 4 Ff J 7 A % <1 x | a cI cy 3 ; 4 ab ef i 2 r} : a} i : A P| 1 4 : g ee ee ee aie ; ad PI tinea Ba hnte Bsmt Te tne is Sd atin ROM Min Denton nl ao oe= es fea ik oe ee are Dual a eacaeinal ab ear al Ma Aa PM PPh Dek bettuca ON tesa ia te aia lear alls i I a AE Shh 2 a S ee = 4 4 oo i — : — =f ~ ee 3 - im : c BY i ¥ Ce Seba oa 18 NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. Mrs. C. A. JOHNSON. 1886, after graduation, her husband being a teacher in the public schools of that city. In 1887 she went to Missouri where she became the assistant teacher with her husband. She is a proficient scholar in music and is a teacher of music in Washington, D. C. Mrs. Johnson has quite a talent for literature and has contributed several papers. She is noted for her remarkable beauty. MRS. CORA L. BURGAN. This accomplished lady was educated in the Detroit public schools and is a graduate of one of the leading musical conservatories of America. She comes of a musical family, her relatives having been musicians for sev- era] generations. For a number of years she taught music in the Texas Blind Asylum for Colored Youth, and is distinguished as the first Afro- American who was offered a position in that institution. She was married to I. M. Burgan in 1889, and became a teacher in the Paul Quinn College. She is a pleasing and courteous woman and takes great interest in the elevation and culture of her race. MISS GERTRUDE JANET WASHINGTON. Miss Gertrude Janet Washing- ton (pianist), was born in Chi- cago in 1873, her family being one of the oldest Afro-Amert- can families of this city. Ata ge Miss Washington very early a showed a remarkable talent for the piano and her mother, wish- ing to have it cultivated, engaged the best German professors to teach her little daughter to play. At the age of fourteen Miss Washington began a course at the Chicago Musical Col- lege under Doctor Ziegfeld, and at the age of SAR \ \\ \\ SS ASS PC! PYM Ww <9) ee DNA NSN Se SNORT Hes ae ~ WN SS SE ee yore Mrs. Cora L. BURGAN.ad ee Ln NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. ~ 99 seventeen received her teacher’s certificate : Coming now to journalism, we enter a at nineteen received her diploma from the | field where many RieeeAtcricas women same college. have displayed marked talent. are gifted and successful. Miss Washington’s musical Our writers ability is not limited to the piano, but she is also a very brilliant organist and has played in the various Afro-American churches since MISS IDA B. WELLS. she was nine years of age, and has had Perhaps no woman of our race is more entire charge of different organs since she | widely known or more influential than Miss was eleven. Wells. Her connection with “ The Society for the Recognition of the Brotherhood of Man,” the large share she had in founding this organization, and her very successful Miss Washington has distinguished her- self as a complete master of the piano on various occasions, having played in the Man- hattan Building at the World’s Fair, New York Day, before thousands of people, the Lady Managers of the Ohio Building being so charmed with her playing that they gave her a special invitation to play for them, and afte1 wards tendered her an invitation to lunch with them. efforts in awakening an anti-lynching public sentiment both in this ceuntry and in Eng- An Accomplished Pianist. Miss Washington has played for almost 7 t ; & a ao a ry a a] o a of 4 } fa 4 a 5 { 4 4 ‘ Fi ri : : é Ff ‘ ; ? & M | | 4 $ | 4 ‘ F mI 4 | P| - j PT a | a Ri - EI all the principal singers and musicians of the i 4 race and always with success. Prof. Dede, the great French violinist, and the greatest att : musical Negro, said that Miss Washington wig was the only lady he had met in America "E who could play his high grade of music See correctly. Miss GERTRUDE J. WASHINGTON. Miss Washington has never travelled, be- cause she firmly believes that one should have a thoroughiy established reputation at home before going abroad. land. have made her name famous on both sides of the Atlantic. The following sketch is taken from Zhe Afro-American Press, and furnishes some Many other distinguished vocalists and | interesting facts connected with her remarka- musicians might be mentioned, among them | ble career: the charming soprano, Madam _ Desseria Plato, the prima donna who sang at the | cles,” is fully verified in the life and character World’s Fair, and elicited from all hearers the | of Miss I. B. Wells, who was born at Holly highest encomiums. She has a clear, well | Springs, Ark., and reared and educated modulated voice of great compass and power, | there. Her parents died while she was which gives evidence of patient cultivation, | attending Rust University, whigh compelled and is capable of expressing every grade of | her to leave school in order that ‘she-might ~~ emotion and sentiment. support her five brothers and sisters. —- That ‘‘perseverance overcomes ail obsta- : 4 ‘ i ; a P Bcd Dae I A Se el te aaa - ope tires oeAe OME APE AGM ARI On ee et ebrdahiala ete teaian atak? Co it Se Or dt wea MK, nD Ss Pa : of ; = ¥ § _ : “t § ® = ao ¥ . P o§ 4 100 NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. She taught her first school at the age of fourteen, and with this work and journalism she has been an incessant laborer. She has taught in the schools of Arkansas and Tennessee, and has at various times been offered like positions elsewhere; but prefer- ring to teach her people in the South, she has continued to labor there. For six years she followed her vocation as teacher in the City of Memphis. During this time she began to write for the press. Her first article was a “write-up, at the request of the editor, ofa Suite for damages, in which she was the complainant. This paper was Zhe Living Way, which she contributed to for the space of two years. This engagement introduced her to the news- paper fraternity as a writer of superb ability, and therefore demands for her services began to come in. Carries a Pointed Pen. T. Thomas Fortune, after meeting her, vrote as follows: “She has become famous as one of the few of our women who handle a goose-quill, with diamond point, as easily as any man in the newspaper work. If ‘Iola’ were a man, she would be a humming inde- pendent in politics. She has plenty of nerve, and is as sharp as a steel trap.” She has been the regular correspondent of The Detroit Plaindealer, Christian Index and The People’s Choice. She is also part owner and editor of Zhe Memphis Free Speech and Head Light, and editress of the ‘‘ Home y department of Our Women and Children, of which Dr. William J. Simmons was publisher. Decidedly, “Iola” is a great success in Jour- nalism, and we can but feel proud of a woman whose ability and energy serves to make her so. She is popular with all the journalists of Afro-American connection, as will be seen by her election as assistant secretary of the National Afro-American Press Convention, at Louisville, and her unanimous election as | secretary of the Press Convention, which met at Washington, D. C., March 4, 1889. Miss Lucy W. Smith says of her: Miss Ida B. Wells, “Iola,” has been called the “Princess of the Press,” and she has well earned the title... No water, the male fraternity not excepted, has been more | extensively quoted; none struck harder | blows at the wrongs and weaknesses of the race. A Most Successful Journalist. Miss Wells’ readers are equally divided between the sexes. She reaches the men by dealing with the political aspect of the race question, and the women shé meets around the fireside. She is an inspiration te the young writers, and her success has lent an impetus to their ambition. When the National Press Convention, of which she was assistant secretary, met in Louisville, she read a splendidly written paper on “Women in journalism; or, How I would Edit.” By the way, it is her ambition to edit a | paper. She believes there is no agency so potent as the press, in reaching and elevating a people. Her contributions are distributed | among the leading race journals. She made her debut with Zhe Living Way (Memphis, | Tenn.), and has since written for Zhe New | York Age, Detroit Plaindeater, Indianapolis | World, Gate City Press (Mo.), Little Rock Sun, | - Imerican Baptist (Ky.), Memphis Watchman, | Chattanooga Justice, Christian Index, Fisk | University Herald (Tenn.), Our Women and Children Magazine (Ky.), and the Memphis papers, weeklies and dailies. Miss Wells has attained much success as a teacher in the public schools of the last-named place. When Miss Wells owned an interest arNOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. The Memphis Free Speech an article appeared in May, 1892, that gave offense toa preju- diced public. 101 Harper writes both poetry and prose of the best type and has published two books of poems, “ Forest Leaves’? and “Southern Sketches.” By a mob the newspaper plant was destroyed and the two male editors were forced to flee for their lives. She was Mrs. Josie Heard, also the wife of a clergy- warned at Philadelphia not to return, as her | man of the A. M. E. connection, is a poetess life would be in danger. of great merit. Miss Cordelia Ray is the She began lecturing on the wrongs in- | author of a volume of poems entitled “ Son- flicted upon her race and, as already stated, | nets,” that are highly spoken of by the press in this country and Great Britain she plead | and Miss Virgie Whitsett, of Iowa, and Miss Mamie Fox, of Ohio, are rapidly winning their way to fame as writers of good and original poetry. the cause of her people with marked ability and success. The most influential people in many of our cities and throughout England and Scotland gave her their support, anti- lynching organizations were formed, and Well-Known Authors. valiant efforts have been put forth to secure Then we have women who have published justice for the black man. original stories. Mrs. Matthews has written a charming Southern story entitled “ Aunt Galaxy of Bright Women. Linda,” and Mrs. Harper has given to the world “Tola Leroy, or Shadows Uplifted,” a It seems almost | story treating of the Race Problem. Mrs, incredible that after so short a pericd of | A. E. Johnson has published two of her freedom, there are stories in book form, and Mrs. Cooper, author of “A Voice from the South,” is said to have produced the best book ever written by a colored man on his race. Other women have also gained high rank as writers and authors. Afro-American women serving on the staff of prominent white jour- nals, as Miss Lillian Lewis, of Massachusetts, and writing stories for magazines like Har- per's and Frank Lesle's Magazines, but true In this field the work of our women is nevertheless, and in Mrs. Matthews, better barely begun. With their vivid imaginations known as “ Victoria Earle,” we have awriter | and quickness of perception, they are destined to fill an important place in the ranks of the literati of this land. But we will have to prepare for the work even as others have had to prepare for it. Literature has its attendant drudgery just as is found in other professions. Mon palma sine pulvere, no palms without dust, no crowns without crosses, is as true of literature as of other tured verse that is eagerly read. A number | things. In coming days Afro-American of her poems have appeared in the Christian | women who faithfully portray the lights and Recorder. Mrs. Charlotte F. Grimke, the | shadows of our own life will receive better author of a number of beautiful poems | compensation, for then their work will be which are universally admired, is the wife of | appreciated. a Presbyterian clergyman. Mrs. Frances As the name of Mrs. Matthews has just who writes for the amily Story Paper and sther fiction papers. The number of women who contribute poems, essays and stories to race magazines is already large, and it is being constantly increased. Three of our best poetesses are wives of clergymen. Mrs. M. E. Lee is the wife of an A. M. E. Bishop. She is a writer of cul- f a z FS] ‘ 4 a bf a ay . 3 ry & 4 a - oy A ri r ry 7 4 i * i . ; | j 4 ri 4 PT | 4 a . | i] é a sf] : rr Pe ey Pt a ) i bs , i : - ee eel eee nn ated cd ss aeroSpe sn TOMI, Pad ee sacl a eda sie ta wpe at ae SE Fe al ak 20 BEA PLA PD la a is aL be a dae of i t i - = 4 ee ce | - 3 : : | Bi . Sy AER RH RET E Tere 102 NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. been mentioned, the reader will appreciate the following sketch of this gifted authoress : MRS. W. E. MATTHEWS. This successful journalist and author was born at Fort Valley, Ga., May 27, 1861. By reason of the cruelty and outrage of those times, her mother, Mrs. Caroline Smith, was forced to seek refuge in the North. She went to New York, and after a few years returned to her four children in the South, legally freed them and took them with her to her adopted home. Here by constant work and diligent study she succeeded in educating her family. Mrs. Mrs. W E. MATTHEWS. Matthews, thus early taught the value of constant application, has by perseverance succeeded in writing her way into the hearts of the American public. She has written for many of the leading periodicals both under the management of white and Afro- American editors. Among those to which she has contributed we mention the New York Times, Herald, Mail, Express, Natonal Leader, Detrovt Plaindealer and many Afro- American weeklies. She is a very busy woman and finds great dehght in the pursuit of her chosen avocation. She is an influential member of the Woman’s National Press Association and occupies a position in the literary worla which should be the pride of every member of the race. Her ability has not stopped at stories and sketches, but embraces several text-books and school literature. MRS. KATIE CHAPMAN DAVIS. Mrs. Davis wrote her first poem at the tender age of thirteen and entitled it “The Dying Child.” Since then she has written stories and poems for leading papers. Many of her poems were published in Zhe Appeal. She was educated in the public schools of eet ~ — 4 4 af Gi eS : i 7 aoe i - . ‘8 ae 4 a % . Fy 25 Sa ER EHOR ARSE GER OT 106 NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. would devote their lives to this work, women who would travel from East to West and from North to South, and speak to our people upon subjects that lie near to our hearts, and that retard or improve our pro- gress as a people. The important subjects of economy, of temperance, of social purity and of our duty -o God and to ourselves—what a grand field for women, and how necessary that we Mrs. FRANCES E. PRESTON. should have them as lecturers. One of the best speakers that the race ever had was Sojourner Truth, an escaped slave, who occupied the platform with such great men as Garrison and Phillips, and of whose utter- | ances it is said that with the same culture, they would have been as undying as those of the African Saint Augustine. Sojourner | lives in modern art. She is the original Libyan Sibyl, a statue carved by the cele- _ brated Mrs. Story. To the roll of honor must be added the name of Miss Lucy Thurman, National Superintendent. of temperance work; Mrs. M. A. McCurdy, Rome, Ga., editor of the Woman's World; Miss Sarah E. Tanner, Principal and Instructor in English Literature and Industrial Drawing in the Normal and Industrial School, Bordentown, N. J.; and Mrs. Mary H. Valodus, who was licensed by Bishop Williams to preach, and has erected two churches, one at Rome and the other at Amsterdam, N. Y. MRS. FRANCES E. PRESTON. Madame Preston was born in Rich- mond, Va., and went to Detroit, Mich., in 1855. Her parents were unwilling for her to go away where the school advantages were better, so her dra- matic ability lay dormant until in 1880, at the age of thirty-three years she entered thg Detroit Training School in Elocution and English Literature. Although a widow with one child and a large hairdressing business to attend to, she graduated as second in her class in 1882. She was secured a position by her teacher, who took the deepest interest in her future, and travelled with the famous Donivan Tennesseeans. After a year she returned home and was | appointed teacher in the school from which she graduated. She travelled through East- ern Virginia in 1884 and in 1888, accom- panied by her daughter. She opened the 5 re a. - raele « . s+ ’ | Baptist School for girls in Augusta, Ga. In July, 1890, she was appointed agent to assist in raising funds for the Foreign Missionary Board, and in April, 1891, a position on the | Woman’s Christian Temperance Union Lec- | ture Bureau was given her, which she | adorned by her brilliant talents.NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. MRS. ZELIA R. PAGE. Mrs. Page was born free in Alexander | 107 representation in the World’s Fair manage- ment. They soon found, however, that puzzling cross-questions and evasions awak- | Ve. Her mother desiring to secure the best possible advantages for her daughter in Pere. Von em | Naa ened in this young woman such resources of the way of education, decided to take her to repartee, readiness of knowledge and nimble- New England. They were obliged, for the sake of safety, to travel as the slaves of Dr. | Peter Parker. ness of logic that they were amazed into | admiration and with eager unanimity em- With his family they went to | braced her arguments in a resolution of approval, and strongly recommended her appointment to some representative position. Providence, R. I., from which place Zelia | was sent to Boston to school. There she exhibited marked dramatic ability and was encouraged to go on by ae ee ee te ee such educators as Biglow and Green. Her mother sent her to Wilberforce University in 1870, and in 1875 sh M graduated from that institution. She became the wife of Inman E. Page, President of Lincoln Institute, Jeffer- son City, Mo., in 1878. Since then she has been associated with Lincoln Institute, and by her kindness to needy students and her many acts of charity has endeared herself to al! i oA : | | ‘ : | : ; E 4 ¥ 4 MRS. FANNIE BARRIER | WILLIAMS. i T : ] - aioe . ft Nothing but pleasant surprises await the people of America in get- ting acquainted with the ever in- creasing number of bright Afro- 2 American men and women. whose t varied accomplishments and achieve- | , oo , Mrs. ZELIA R. PAGE. 4 ments furnish some of the most 1n- Mrs. ZELIA Kk teresting episodes in newspaper literature.| The name of this bright lady is Mrs. Wide publicity was given to the brilliant | Fannie Barrier Williams, and a ‘closer knowl- sallies of wit and eloquence of a young | edge of herself and history reveals the inter- Afro-American woman at Chicago, in appeal- esting fact that there is something more to ing to the Board of Control of the World’s | her than ability to speak ee She Columbian Exposition in behalf of the | was born in Brockport, N. Y., where her American Negro. The grave and matter-of- | parents, Mrs. and the late A. ‘J. Barrier, have fact members of the commission were at : eel Be bap ts we eset ~~ a been highly esteemed residents for nearly : ; at Poenare | Were elie is petite in size t ij 2 ‘eat lichtlv anv proposition | fifty years. Mrs. Williams is Ze ; first inclined to treat lightly any proj : | vey f sa f to recognize the Afro-American’s claim to | and her face is one of rare sweetness 0nee, Meee ett ee 6 nee NTA AB OPMENT Da BS ERS ome in Ghat Been 7 NSE WES GOORIN CN) i Eo OA 2 : PS Laas and nd I ih 1 tit Sel Oa ae i ee: - . - Ki a = ba e | a # me a ae Re § - : | 108 NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. expression. In the pure idyllic surroundings of her home, in the quiet and refined village of Brockport, she had the very best school advantages. She was graduated from the college department of the State Normal School very young and began at once to teach school. successful teacher in the public schools of Washington, D. C., and resigned only when she became the wife of her present hus- band, Mr. S. Laing Williams, a well edu- cated and ambitious young lawyer of the For about ten years she was a Chicago bar. Mrs. Williams early evidenced a decided talent for drawing and painting. While teaching in Washington she dili- gently exhausted every opportunity to de- velop her artistic instincts. She became a student in the studios of several Washing- ton artists and further studied to some extent in the New England Conservatery and pri- vate studios of Boston. An Accomplished Woman. Her cleverest work has been that of por- At the New Orleans Exposition some years ago her pieces on exhibition traits. were the theme of many favorable criticisms by visiting artists. In conversation Mrs. Williams is delightfully vivacious and pun- gent, and displays an easy familiarity with the best things in our language. With no cares of children she lives an active life. She was Secretary of the Art Department of the Woman’s Branch of the Congress Auxiliaries of the World’s Colum- This committee had the active and honorary membership of the most distinguished women artists of the world, and Mrs. Williams enjoyed the esteem of all bian Exposition. who knew her in this highly important branch of the World’s Fair. She is also an active member of the | correspondent of “Jllinois Woman’s Alliance,” in which she serves as Chairman of the Committee on “State Schools for Dependent Children.” She is likewise actively interested in the splendid work of the Provident Hospital! and Training School, perhaps. the most unique organization for self-helpfulness ever undertaken by the colored people of the country. Mrs. Williams’ home. life The choice of pic- is unusually charming and happy tures and an ample library give an air of refinement and culture to her pretty home. She and her husband are active members of All Souls’ Unitarian Church, of Chicago, and the Prudence Crandall Study Club. Mrs. Williams interest in all things that pertain to the well- manifests an intelligent being of the Afro-Americans and never hesi- tates to speak or write when her services are solicited. Her wide and favorable acquaint- ance with nearly all the leading Afro-Ameri- can men and women of the country, and her peculiar faculty to reach and _ interest influential men and women of the dominant race in presenting the peculiar needs of her people, together with her active intelligence, have made Mrs. Williams a woman of con- spicuous usefulness. MRS. MARTHA ANN RICKS. Mrs. Rick’s reputation as a philanthropist is well known in both England and America. In England she is a personal friend and Queen Victoria, with whom she often exchanges mementoes_ of regard. Her rare worth asserts itself even in her own native home, and she has long been a power in the progress of the race en the dark continent. Such noble examples show what the women of our race can do. If we are poor and have to live out at service, and if we have an am-NOTED AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. bition to become something more tl are, why then let us make the life of existence which we crave. be disposed to hide our talents. charge has been made ag: : We have been charged with mental inf hearts and brains, we can accomplish the same that it is accomplished by our sisters of the Caucasian race, then we have refuted the falsehood. Many of us give up too easily. Because we are colored and are poor, we feel that it is our duty to crush our aspirations and be con- tented to dwell in the valley of humiliation, when we might be upon the mountains, heralding some joyous message to the hungry multitudes at our feet. We owe it to God and to the colored race, to be as perfect speci- mens of Christian womanhood as we are capable of being. In the profes- sion of law only one Afro-American has dared as yet to venture and that is Ida Pratt. Others will no doubt follow in the course of time and be- come celebrated. Another important class of educa- tors are the women of the race who teach in our public schools and col- leges. We will, as in other lines, men- tion those who are the most prominent. Mrs. Frances Harper and Maus. Fannie Coppin, beside their rank as lecturers, are widely known as educators. Mrs. Coppin is a graduate of Oberlin College and is at | present principal of the “ Institute for Colored | Youth,” which is located in Philadelphia. | Mrs. Sarah Garnet, who has taught in the | State of New York many years and who is a | member of the Teacher’s National Associa- | lan we | service a stepping-stone to that grander and nobler May none of us A. terrible | gainst us as a race. erior- ity ; now if we can prove that with cultivated fairer 109 tion, and Mrs. Anna Julia Cooper, Instructor in Latin and English Literature at Washing. ton, D. C, are among our best teachers. Miss A. H. Jones, another Oberlin graduate, who teaches in the High School of Kansas City, and the Misses Cordelia and Florence Kay and Miss Cato, who have received from the University of New York, the degree of Master of Pedagogy, also deserve honorable mention. Besides those mentioned are thou- ba ea Mrs. MartHa ANN RICKS. sands who are engaged in the work and are successfully teaching both Afro-American and Anglo-Saxon children how to become intelligent factors in this great universe. The pessimists of the race, those who are continually on the outlook for the darkest side of life, tell us that we have no society worthy of the name, but such ignorant critics have failed to obtain a passport into the circle of refined Negro men and women, who are ] ri os 3 s ry y | | + 2 4 $ A 4 ‘ | a Pd 3 a . | fi ‘ a : . “ roa tae a ee ee aa : el e r ce Fe ee ade ~ a BE EH ad Pn ti atili eee ee ~~ > -*ee ae eT rer iy eon enka alee rae: Leash aban al at aa Lah oka Bsa PAN Plas ct v a tae eed Ge ia caer edn en kL i Sf hl lb eee on” Te aE ee IE ce eS Pa PS Ee ee Seng cag cde PPR ARE. A RAN ass hi einen Swanton Soe Pee Sethe RE edo ra 110 NOTED. AFRO-AMERICAN WOMEN. to be found in every city of the United States. | Our society women are lively, charming | and usually well-bred. They observe the same laws of etiquette, that are observed by devotees of fashion the world over. They call, receive and dress according to their means and often beyond their means, just as other women do. They require dainty morning gowns, elaborate dinner dresses and stylish street costumes, with hat, gloves and wraps to match, just like the rest of the feminine world. The fashionable Afro- American, like her Caucasian sisters spends her time in novel reading, card playing and in whirling through the intricate mazes of the dance. Others who have consecrated their lives to God find their time taken up with various religious and intellectual organizations, such as the King’s Daughters and many secret benevolent societies. Two of the best known of their clubs are the ‘‘Women’s Tourgee Club,” of Chicago, and the ‘‘ Harriet Beecher Stowe Circle,’ of Des Moines. A ides lustrial hi ch organization is the “Women’s Inc League,’’ of Washington, D. C., w doing creditable work. We now come to the consideration of the last thought and the one that is of the most importance. Afro-American Women in the Home. When Howard Payne, wrote: ‘‘*Mid pleasures and palaces though I may roam, Be it ever so humble there’s no place like home,”’ he voiced the sentiments of millions. The home is an institution for which we are indebted to Christianity. 't is of equal importance with the school and the church. Our earliest impressions of the outside world are received in the home and though we may wander many miles from the place we call home, yet it will ever occupy a sacred spot in our memories. If, as some writer has said, the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, how impor- tant that that hand shall be trained to guide wisely the children beneath her rule! It is in the home that our women, and ‘ndeed all women, are seen either at their best or at their worst. It is here that they are either home-makers or home-breakers. Look at these two scenes. Two young couple embarked out on the sea of life. One takes for their motto, the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The other one: “I am going to rule my house.” Home-Makers and Home-Breakers. One woman tries to be a helpmate indeed unto her husband, and the other spends her money faster than he can earn it. One meets her husband when his day’s work is over with a pleasant smile, while the other keeps on hand a goodly supply of frowns and cross words. Number one is easily contented, for she knows that she has her husband’s love and that brighter days are just ahead for them, but nothing satisfies number two, for she is a home-breaker, as surely as the other is a home-maker. We cannot say that the majority of our It would be a miracle if they were after so many cen- homes are what they should be. turies of heathenish influences have sur- rounded our ancestors, and of course, left their marks upon us. But we are not dis- couraged, for we find here and there Afro- American homes, that are models of Chris- tian culture and happiness, and we know that education and religion will create many more. Already great improvement is being no- ticed everywhere in our homes.Tue GUIDE To SuccEss WITH EXAMPLES AND ACHIEVE EMENTS OF SUCCESSFUL MEN AND WOMEN OF THE RACE T HAS been truly said that great deeds | and examples inspire us to actions. We see what noble to be equally successful. We look at the | enviable position they have gained and feel | ~ that we can become equally distinguished. We mark the respect they receive, the com- mendation given to them, the wide influence they are exerting, and our impulse is to make them a pattern for ourselves. The colored race of this country should aim at the highest success and make them- selves the best citizens and the most useful members of society. We should be guided by right principles and prove ourselves | worthy of the liberty granted us by emanci- pation. There should be no better schools than ours, no grander statesmen, no more successful business men, no more shining lights in professional life, no happier homes, no more cultured women, no people more moral and pone: This is a high ideal, but we can reach It is safe to say we can do it, because many noble and worthy members of our race have already achieved great success. - They have climbed high in their endeavors, have plucked the laurels for which they were reaching, have grasped the prize held out before them, and by their brilliant achieve- ments have conferred honor upon their people, and have written their names deep in >| and young women? We call has_ been | accomplished by others and we wish | history. Where are our rising young men them. to come We bid them lift their eyes to the | heights of knowledge and power. We point them to those whose names have become househoid words, and bid them press on to the front rank in the struggle of life. forward. | | Great Desire for Learning. | Itis a marvelous sign of the times that there is a vast stir among all our people, a waking up from the lethargy and indifference of a state of servitude, an eager desire for learning and all the accomplishments of polite society, a noble resolve to rise to a higher plane and wield a mightier power. Here lies our hope for the future. We are not always going to be crushed to the earth. The blood that flows in our veins will grow warm and a new light will kindle in our eyes. The great leaders of the race have lifted up a high standard before us, and happy are they who shall climb until they reach it. With the object of furnishing the colored people in all parts of our country helpful advice, words of wisdom, and beneficial sug- cestions, this Guide to Success has been pre- pared. It is practical, pointed and inspiring. It teaches great lessons. It deals with thoughts and principles which ought to & imbedded in every mind and heart. It will help you to that measure of self-improve- 111 : ee “ ns —s Dn EF ™ eee al arg ew Ln t bd 4 7 > Be) ry 7% BY 4 I ry 7 4 4 4 mY a ’ | By i 3 Y : a P| Ed i f i LJ a A e » <3 i) a mi ; : 5 v P| | j Py s e 4 ‘1 | z | be : eeeS - q iS = 2 & -= cM F Pe Ps at - # é z = e 3 : is = PT eek eat ld alee vad Pa ore, ee PPL “pen eee ae se eee ag Ga react Raa AL ince. AHS NG laa 2 Shenae a ae ea eee ee Seats Bee RL sy SH a Ss ai Be Bi Ky Pi i | _§ ha # ae A Fi , e 4% 112 THE GUIDE LO SUCCESS. ment which will be followed by a successful career. The first thing to consider is that success is the result of education and self-training. This great truth is brilliantly illustrated in the life and noble work of HON. FREDERICK DOUGLASS. Viewed from whatever standpoint, Fred- ‘rick Douglass was a great man. In sum- ciing up his life, it should be borne in mind chat he was the first colored man to gain any considerable notoriety in the affairs of the American people. It is true he came for- ward at atime that afforded great opportu- nities for one of his race who had more than ordinary ability, and much that he accom plished was due to this fact. He was a natural product of his age, and was largely developed by the peculiar circumstances by which he was surrounded. But the right material was in him. An ordinary man, with like opportunities, never could have made the splendid record that he made. As a slave, he was deprived of the benefits of an early education. Hearing his mistress read the Bible, he, one day, asked her to teach him to read it. This she consented to do, and he showed such aptitude that his master objected to his being taught, and so the work was discontinued. But the dis- covery of an unusual mind was doubtless made by himself, as well as by his master, and the little knowledge he had thus acquired, only intensified his desire for more. After making his escape from bondage, he found an asylum at New Bedford, Mass., and though engaged in manual labor, he em- braced every possible opportunity to cultivate his mind. It was in 1841 that he attended an Anti-Slavery Convention at Nantucket, and spoke. This was the effort that brought gim before the public, and decided what was | | | to henceforth be his life work. The Massas chusetts Anti-Slavery Society at once em- ployed him as a lecturer, and for fifty-four years he was one of the most prominent figures Like Abraham Lincoln, he was an original thinker, and had a unique way of expressing himself. Many of his brief utterances have ‘ures on the American platform. crystalized into fireside expressions. It has been said of him that he was capable of put- ting a volume into a single expression. His style was generally slow and deliberate, but at times he would fairly catch fire, and pour out volumes of eloquence in such an impas- sioned manner as to move his audience to the ishest pitch of excitement. No one could listen to him without being impressed with his earnestness. His sincerity and honesty of purpose made him formidable in any cause he espoused. His sterling integrity, coupled with his great abillty, made him the trusted friend of his race, for whose rights he labored and fought so long and so bravely. No man ws able to take his place as a race leader. Hx was true and tried. Grand Battle for Civil Rights. Having secured his own freedom, he embraced the first opportunity to labor for the emancipation of his fellow bondsmen. When the war of the rebellion broke out, he insisted upon the enlistment of colored troops, and was the principal agent in organizing the famous Fifty-Fourth Massa- chusetts. The war ended, he began the battle for civil rights, and the right of fran- chise. Things moved on smoothly for a time, then trouble in a different form came, The reign of mob violence constitutes one of the darkest pages in the history of our national life. Again Mr. Douglass arose in the greatness of his might, and waged war against the lyncher. As of old, he comesos, Me L. Rev. C. S. Smatse, M.v., D.D., Nashville, Tena. 2. REV. PIERRE LANDRY, P.E., Donaldsonville, La. do. REV.WM. D. JOHNSON, D.D., Athens, Gz 4, Rev. M. Vann, D.D., Chattanooga, Tenn. 5. Rev. E. W. HAMMOND, D.D., New Orleans, La. 6. Dr. R. E. Har’, Columbia, S. C. 7. Rev. A. L. Garers. &.D., A.W, Norfolk, Va. 8 Rev. R. R. Downs, P.E., Savannah, Ga. 4*y W 9. Rev. J. F. MARSHALL, P.E., New Orleans, La, eS er ee ee ON | | ee i ieee Se ee > eee ee the me oO Ol al | iad ey ered ae) : Pape ~~ > « ale 5 nies 2 aed —— a ae — en ee oS=e MOE Minit ies The 8 iy Noe Sag HA te He i te C f sats ai BE ak LEN tok te Salty hak dace a ie Dealt Pane tsa eceeceet det onaged ee Ee he en ne emia ee Ae ELC ber igs ama PROF. THOMAS J. CALLOWAY, A: &, PRESIDENT ALCORN A. & M. COLLEGE, WEST SIDE, MISS,wales Ow oot a SO eet rs Serr oS rs SSS AIOE" NA WN SE RSS “ \ eh SoS Se ne Re ee a, ~ 4 a f - | © * Oo < on ; & Y 4 Oo # ‘ao F nN aA | HH Oo } a ‘ 1.8 > Aa a a a in Newspaper Off P| . | eo 5 aut al Py ie aePn) Nai Cie oe Ss rr gM ASP nS STINTS Fal? Desens a selarah Dieter : Oe a tal ee ALE IPL al oo e oF : . me oo7 7 _ | i . - : ‘ a 4 Bi | ‘ ¥ | 114 THE GUIDE ory. When he takes his rightful place in history, it will be as a great man, “one of earth’s great spirits, born in servitude and nursed in scorn.” The following incident is too good to be lost. A few years ago Mr. Douglass went back to Talbot County, Md., where he was born a slave, to buy some of the prop- erty which, in the old days, he was forbidden by law to own, because nature had colored his skin brown, and white men had, by their ceuperior strength, been able to buy and sell his ancestors. While there he was invited to address a colored school, and this, accord- ing to a writer in Kate Field's Washington, was what he said: “T once knew a little colored boy whose mother and father died when he was but six years old. to care for him. He slept ona dirt floor in TO ‘SUCCESs: He was a slave, and had no one | a hovel, and in cold weather would crawl into a meal bag headforemost, and leave his feet in the ashes to keep them warm. Often he would roast an ear of corn and eat it to satisfy his hunger, and many times has he crawled under the barn or stable and secured eggs, which he would roast in the fire and eat, “ That boy did not wear pants like you do, but a tow linen shirt. Schools were unknown to him, and he learned to spell from an old Webster’s spelling book and to read and write from posters on cellar and barn doors, while boys and men would help him. He would then preach and speak, and soon be- came well known. He became Presidential Elector, United States Marshal, United States Recorder, United States Diplomat, and accu- mulated some wealth. He wore broadcloth and didn’t have to divide crumbs with the dogs under the table. That boy was Fred- erick Douglass. “What was possible for me is possible for you. Don’t think because you are colored you can’t accomplish anything. Strive earn- estly to add to your knowledge. So long as you remain in ignorance so long will you fail to command the respect of your fellow men.” Who could add anything to that which would not spoil it? Mr. Douglass was a noble specimen of a self-made man. EDUCATE YOURSELF. O man or woman can accomplish as | the .colored race, Abraham Lincoln, sent much without education as with it. Great natural abilities have enabled many who were not high- ly educated to rise in the world, but they did this not by lack of training, but in spite of it. The men and women of our race who have become distinguished have succeeded in ob- taining a fair education. Look, for instance, at Mr. John R. Lynch, who has the proud distinction of having sat under the Capitol at Washington, to repre- sent one of the Congressional districts of Concordia roa7. He was born in Mississippi. He Barish, (a., September 10, | | remained in slavery until that great Moses oi forth the proclamation that snapped forever the chains of the enslaved. It will readily be understood that he had no opportunities in early life for self-improvement, but after- ward, when able to do so, applied himself closely to study and made rapid progress. His mother, having been sold to a resident of Natchez, Miss., and removed to this place, he had an opportunity to attend evening school when the town was captured and held by the Union troops. Afterwards, under private instructors, he made good use of his time in learning the English branches.THE GUIDE In 1869 he was appointed by Governor Ames justice of the peace for Adams County. Soon afterward he was elected to the State Legislature, and being chosen for a second TO SUGECESS, 115 they purchased their inheritance, when upon the battle-fields of their country they watered the tree of liberty with the precious blood ed ms, term he served as Speaker of the House. He was elected to the Forty-third Congress, and gave such satisfaction that he was re-elected, but was not allowed to take his seat, which was contested by his opponent. He was Temporary Chairman of the National Republican Convention at Chicago in 1884, and was appointed fourth auditor in the Treasury Department by President Harrison. Mr. Lynch is a man of cultured mind and is an orator of commanding ability. Speaking in Congress of the loyalty of the colored people to the government during the | | war and of what they deserve from their | fellow citizens, he said: Hon. Joun R. Lyncu. “They were faithful and true to you then; | that flowed from their loyal veins. [ Loud they are no less so to-day. | And yet they | applause.] They ask no favors; ask no special favors as a class; they ask no special protection as a race. they demand what they desire and must have—an They feel that | equal chance in the race of lite.” HONESTY. GENTI-EMAN, jumping from an omnibus in the City of New York, dropped his pocket-book, | I might never have seen them again. Take, then, my little girl, this note of a thousand dollars, as a reward for your honesty, and a lesson to me to be more careful in future.” « Es i i ‘ | et t eo + PS ‘ 4 4 I >| r | A # I ; FI ri | : ey 4 ; Y ; es A 3 «| + ‘A 4 4 4 5 Fy ob F m 1 , | : F | and had gone some distance be- fore he discovered his loss; then hastily returning, inquired of every passenger whom { ° . he met, if a pocket-book had been seen. | keep what is not mine, and my parents would Finally, meeting a little girl ten years old, | not be pleased if I took the note home; they to whom he made the same inquiry, she | might suppose I had stolen it.” OW elk asked: “What kind of a pocket-book?”’ | He described it—then unfolding her apron: | re Amis itr’: “Yes. that into this store with me.” “No,” said the girl, “I cannot take. it. | I have been taught at Sunday-school not to then, my girl, show me where your parents live.” is mine; come The girl took him to a humble tenement They entered, ne | in an obscure street, rude but cleanly. He opened the book, counted the notes, and | informed the parents of the case. They examined the papers. “They are all right,” | told him their child had acted correctly. said he; “fifteen notes of a thousand dollars | They were poor, it was true, but their pastor each. Had they fallen into other hands, | had always told them not to set their hearts -. - ~~ oe Se ee eee “a nen ee pee116 | THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. in early life and practiced what she learned. Many Afro-Americans have held, and are holding now, po- sitions where the most sterling PR Sadar ee SY nk seal onsale ay edd Stier integrity and honesty are in von- stant demand. For example sich oa: man “is’ Douglass sae eae McCary, who is cashier of the Capital Savings Bank. In such a position as this a reputation for the strictest honesty must be maintained; otherwise, the place could not be held for an hour. You should be accounted thor- oughly honest—honest in all your dealings, honest in your professions, honest in thought, word and deed. This is the sure and safe road to success. Seas ee ak Pin Nd AC EE Daa ae 2 IR : ne te HAA NN, Dovuctass B. McCary, Cashier of the Capital Savings Bank. on tich gifts. The gentleman told them they must take it, and he was convinced they would make a good use of it, from the principle they had professed. The pious parents then blessed their benefactor, for such he proved. They paid their debts which had disturbed their peace, and the benevolent giver furnished the husband and father employ- ment in his occupation as a Car- penter, enabling him to rear an in- dustrious family in comparative happiness. This little girl became the wife of a respectable tradesman of New York, and had reason to rejoice that she was taught aright Wituram E, MartuHews, LL.B. ad i 4 i H = og : “8 4 | } = ' * : om . 4 2 iS 4 : q i is : : oP We Selb P 55THE GUIDE: TO. SUCCESS. Another gentleman who illustrates this | ber of years in the Post Office Department cardinal virtue very forcibly is Mr, W. E. | at Washington, he opened a real estate and Matthews. Hewas born in Baltimore ;janly | | | a ee | ad broker’s office. Few men among us under- 1845. While in this city he was a neem stand so well as Mr. nent member of literary institutions handling of money. graduated from the Howard University. Matthews the true He | Law Department of | After serving a num- His business integrity is something of which any man might well be proud. SELF-RELIANCE. RESIDENT GARFIELD once said: | would then only be in the first chapter. “A pound of pluck is luck is worth a ton | Bronze and marble commemorate it, but its of luck. Let not poverty stand as an obstacle in your way. is uncomfortable, as I glories and triumphs will last when bronze Poverty } and marble have crumbled. can testify; but nine | Here | now is a fine illustration of it. The times out of ten the best thing that can hap- | name is well known and is universally hon- pen to a young man is to be tossed over r- | ored. It is that of Hon. P. B.S. Pinchbank. board and be compelled to sink or swim fo ay The fact that Mr. Pinchback has risen himself. In all my « acquaintances I have | from a humble position to be Governor of never known one to be drowned who was | Louisiana, proves that he is possessed of worth saving.”’ ) remarkable ability. He was born May 1o, You should be able to face a duty ora I637.,. When about trial. Walk up to it with determination in | every look and action. posed to cowardice six years old he was father to Cincinnati to attend Gilmore’s High School. sent by his Self-reliance is op- It does not belong to Ps a 4 4 | : rf a : ; ‘| | a 2 a +. P| a r i : 4 ; ms 7 | a : | 4 H e : 3 F A : 3 : PI } ] Through family misfortunes he was com- pelled to start out in the world for himself at thing worth doing is done, worth achieving is | the age of twelve, securing a position as cabin achieved. It can stand a shock without | boy on a canal boat at eight dollars a month. It doesn’t mope around with cam- | From this time on, he followed steamboating doesn’t run | and gradually rose to be steward of the boat, when a leaf rustles. Its hair is not likely to | which was the highest place any stand straight up through fright. It doesn’t | could gain. run for ghosts; it marches right up, and the | In _ 186: | ghost runs. Self-reliance has done won- :. a weak characters. You find it wherever any- | fainting. phor and a smelling-bottle. It colored man . oT ee General Butler, commander of the Gulf, called upon the free men of color ders. If you have it, thank God for it; if | of Louisiana to take up arms in defence of you haven’t it, you ought to have an assured | the Union. Mr. Pinchback at once income, someone to pay for your food and clothes, and give you a decent burial, when fortunately for the world, you die. was by many This magnificent virtue has had its praises | controversies and perils in the effort to main- sung in epics and told in history. Not half | | tain his own and the dignity of the colored | ‘ : ~ ai enough has ever been said about it. Go on | troops. telling its achievements for ages, and you organ- ized a company, of which he became captain, , | and was mustered into service. His short | career in the army was attended ’ oe 4 ss ele Be ee ne a ae In 1867 he made his first move in theES ees Spe OTSA ARV Bs TR eC Pa e Recs th aeudahes usin nto o Pesca Pa PN as alco NL be : Sa aaa an eee ede ak AI ee tal OE al 7 ates : ee | ¥ 3 i iy i i e My - a -€ ¥ ae i of oa 8 - % = i : Refit: Me i Wes bth dina PK SHS 118 THE GUIDE political field and from that time on held many important positions. He became an NN Y\\ NX \\ 3 \ VA »~ LRN i A SS Hon... -B: S41 PINCHBACK, Ex-Governor of Louisiana. editor in 1870, and through his newspaper largely influenced the State Legislature. The TO) SUCCESS: ~ WN > is a m: f independent thought : SN , - is a man of independe oug A N S . next year he became Lieutenant-Governor to Gll the vacancy caused by the death of Hon. Oscar J. Dunn. The following year he was nominated by a large, enthusiastic Republican State Convention for Governor. There were many complications at this time in the political situa- tion, and after many conflicts and much excitement, Mr. Pinchback was made Governor until Janu- ary, 1873. He was at once elected United States Senator for the term of six years. Buta conspiracy existed to keep him out of Congress. He has held many responsible positions and in each and all has shown himself to be a man of mark. He illustrates forcibly the great virtue of self-reliance, and action, and has frequently passed through emergencies where only his own nerve and firmness have saved him from defeat. It may safely be said that he is the most prominent representative of our race in the Southwest. PERSEVERANCE. OU must not give up. You must go at it and keep at it. Fitful effort accomplishes very little; it is the long and steady pull that does wonders. You must remember John Wesley’s motto: “All at it and always at it.” This grand virtue has been the making | : Our race afforas a multitude of striking examples, showing the supremacy of this quality. Among them all Mr. T. Thomas Fortune is one of the most noteworthy. His career as an editor, author and agitator | has been a brilliant one. He shows what | can be accomplished by steady perseverance, of many illustrious men, and the want of it | will account for the utter failure of many | others who by nature were splendidly | endowed, his mother having transmitted this quality te her son. He was born in Jackson County, Fla., in 1856. He began his career as a printer at Jack-THE GUIDE’ TO: SUCCESS. 119 sonville, being known as what is called a ostracism and blows for the race. Heis a : axa 667 arr]? = a = > - ‘ C { ‘ printer's “devil” on one of the newspapers. | business man who means business, and is Having lost his position through a change | determined to make his paper succeed, if of proprietors, he began attending school | such a thing is possible. There are many competing for public favor, but Zhe Freeman | holds its own, and no matter how much’ h of high blood, | newspaper disagreement there may be over he refused to take an insult, left the place | first place in the newspaper world—the and went back to the printer's case. In 1876 he entered How- ard University, where he re- and at once took high rank as a student. We next find him a clerk in the city post office, but, being a yout ) 1 variety, vivacity and even impetuosity of Mr. mained two years, prepar- ing himself for his future life work. He has attained great celebrity as a jour- nalist in New York, being a very forcible, versatile and attractive writer. An appreciative biographer speaks of him as follows: “His life has been one of stern reality, struggling for a foothold; he often meets difficulty and _ ob- stacles which would cause men of less fortitude to succumb; but still he bat- tles on, believing that the race is not always to the swift, but to him who holds out to the end. Owing to his political stand he finds much to encounter, but we earnestly believe that in T. THomaAs FORTUNE. the long run he will have no cause to regret his course. He is | Fortune’s editorials will always give him a still laboring with the hope that the intelli- | commanding position among the lights of gence and culture we are gaining will eventu- | the fraternity.” ‘ally cause the race to reach that point where it will be able to maintain itself. He sees in Mr. Fortune has been connected with some of the most widely circulated periodi- the future grand and glorious achievements. | cals and newspapers of the country, and has “He is an-inveterate foe to the half- | always made a success with his pen. He ts hearted who dare not stand up and take | a bold and trenchant writer. : ea - ™ , ~ wo =. 22 % ew, FR a MR a ene Me CON oa a ea oe. 4 oy ’ ; F] s & 3 , FO ee ak aad - ead eel A een ~ ey ee a —~e - hae en lan tensua en UPN AMP RS Ca ten aa EATTNORS sin hg se AN iT EAN Si WT ig Bs ‘ a4 ; =: -" @ 4 § i F A y - as i e - 4 i “s Ks : rc me BY ; Fy e P| i £20 THE GUIDE TO “SUCCESS. FORCE OF CHARACTER. MERSON says, “ Men of character are the conscience of the society to which they belong.” And Martin Luther said, ‘The prosperity of a country depends, not on the abundance of its revenues, nor on the strength of its forti- fications, nor on the beauty of its public buildings ; but it consists in the number of SENATOR. its cultivated citizens, in its men of educa- tion, enlightenment, and character; here are to be found its true interest, its chief strength, its real power.”’ Men of genuine excellence, in every station of life—men of industry, of integrity, of high principle, of sterling honesty of purpose— command the spontaneous homage of man- | kind. It is natural to believe in such men, ' to have confidence in them, and to imitate them. All that is good in the world @ upheld by them, and without their presence in it, the world would not be worth living in. Such a man is the Hon. B. K. Bruce, This distinguished man, who has been a member of the United States Senate, was born in old Virginia, March 1, 1841. His lot as a slave boy was hard and toilsome, and of course he had few if any opportunities for ob- taining an education. When the act of emancipation liberated four millions of our people, young Bruce made his way to Oberlin College, and there pursued such a course of study as he thought would best qualify him for future usefulness. Having made diligent use of his time, and gained a fair edu- cation, he entered public life in the State of Mississippi in 1868 As a planter he was highly re- spected, and at once showed that he was fitted for positions of honor and trust. In 1870 he was elected Sergeant-at-Arms of the State Senate. Here he made good use of acquaintance with the leading men to better develop the judgment, tact and executive ability, which have so signally characterized his after life. Soon after he was appointed | Assessor of Taxes, Sheriff and member of the Board of Levee Commissioners. Having already gained great distinction as an able man and wise statesman, he was chosen to the United States Senate in 1874, and took his place in the highest council of the nation. Here he served with markedTHE GUIDE distinction, and was one of the ablest mem- bers of that body. He was often called to preside over the Senate and did so with remarkable ability. He served as Register LO*SUECCESS. 121 of the United States Treasury under Presi- dent Garfield, and was appointed by Presi- dent Harrison Recorder of Deeds for the District of Columbia. INDUSTRY AND THRIFT. T HAS been said that no sword is too short for a brave man, for one step forward will make a short sword long enough. But few tasks are too diffi- cult for one who is industrious and persever- ing. ‘‘Labor conquers all things.’ If the task is difficult, work a little harder. On the Delphian temple is the motto of | Periander: “ Nothin | g is impossible to indus- try.” If you have great talents, industry will improve them ; if moderate ability, industry will supply their deficiency. Nothing is denied to well directed labor; nothing is ever to be attained without it. | Work is the law of our being—the living principle that carries men and nations onward. The greater number of men have to work with their hands, as a matter of necessity, in order to live; but all must work in one way or another, if they would enjoy life as it ought to be enjoyed. Labor may be a burden and a chastise- ment, but it is also an honor and a glory. Without it nothing can be accomplished. All that is great in man comes through work, and civilization is its product. Were | labor abolished, the race of Adam’ were at | once stricken by moral death. bie It is idleness that is the curse of man— | ¢ not labor. men as of nations, and consumes them as | S rust does iron. When Alexander conquered | the Persians, and had an opportunity of | observing their manners, he remarked that | p they did not seem conscious that there could | vated thoroughly afterward. pleasure, or more princely than a life of toil. A close observer of men and things told us the following little history, which we hope | will plough very deeply into the attention o! all who plough very shallow in their soils, Two brothers settled together in the same county; one of them on a cold, ugly, clay soil, covered with black-jack oak, not one AWN eek WS A NE 47, Vp Nis v 4 y NAY ee Seay: b Se Hehe Phe he AA si Wy “Af ae oo iy Nei) CoA: me zs 2 Lewis BATES. of which was large enough to make half » Jlozen rails. This man would never drive Idleness eats the heart out of | any but large, powerful Conastoga horses, ome seventeen hands high. He always put three horses to a large plough, and plunged it...i «some. ten inches. deep. This. deep loughing he invariably practiced, and culti- He raised his , i 2 servile an a life of | seventy bushels of corn to an acre. be anything more servile than a \ : " ee aa r -_ eal al aed a hel ty f A g < 3 i a z = 7 . Pi a . eI - ri ry | Fd A pr zy : | i s I e a rf : 4 4 3 ; 7 oe A 5 | ] = 4 $ | . a i a 5 ‘4 a s j F] bs | a ena a ee caw ae — ~ aSe ee ad Sar ea ia mallard teeny Nal a DE eel at Ae Be ARR PD ed Nal NL ahaa Laon ask aD bates val Pea Paar ad a ah LEN dat Sata OD 4 2 yi ‘ i i : * e i - a pe. 7 i -§ :. oe Ke 5 Ph Messe tiadiatina PSs 122 THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. This man had a brother about six miles off, settled on a rich White River bottom- land farm; and while a black-jack clay soil yielded seventy bushels to an acre, this fine bottom-land would not average fifty. One brother was steadily growing rich on poor land, and the other steadily srowing poor on rich land. One day the bottom-land brother came down to see the black-jack | They rely on the soz/, not on labor, or skill, or care. Some men, expect Biel lands to work, and some men expect to work their lands; that is just the difference between a good and a bad farmer. When we had written thus far, and read it to our informant, he said, “Three years ago I travelled again through that section, and the only good farm I saw was this very one __—_ of which you have just written. Al the others were desolate—fences down, \ ry cabins abandoned, the settlers discour- i “i aged and moved off. I thought I saw \9 “4 ; ee ER the same stable door, hanging by one Dos | a, a | hinge, that used to disgust me ten years ea : Wu yy! < < gsi a we é Aer | before; and I saw no change, except eS oh E m5 .¥- | for the worse, in the whole county, Np i ct hs iB: oe ; : F : __WRaece ATE . | f as with the single exception of this one =f hs : : r tA , IH PRA y | fe L E 1 i Aa: ote ae ite farm.” fovy 5 er ie) a een le i oe EA WR) | cetera 1) Gee It has been truly said that to desire Ure Bl tee | | Soe | Newt Sel = eo oie ee th SERCO TE a to possess without being burdened El ees | re pee ee | SE 7 co ms C | il | A ie ee el -~| with the trouble of acquiring Is as oe yi EO | ce al Tt ard | much a sign of weakness, as to recog- ' : fae |} A= ; “4 | - iF ie" nize that everything worth having 1s Tm i only to be got by paying its price 1s pe: x3 a Tf “4 a cf “> ee a~+4 =e eTre y WG the prime secret of p1 ictical strength. (ee Even leisure cannot be enjoyed unless iia es “c oe el it is won by effort. If it have not am "em Roos (ete om | been earned by work, the price has SRA = naa) W 1 a | J I | ya tt of 1 ee eae Ne | | | | not been paid for it. Life must needs weu 1 | morhg FM Wl leurat yr A eee | FS wt I Fy | | | be disgusting alike to tne idle ricl Ss Pie es Wee. gl my % os | | . . c 4 = nic 1 l US hed "eae lef |__| . Se ae ss man as to the idle poor man, who oak-farmer, and they began to talk about | their crops and farms, as farmers are very | apt to do. | “How is it,” said the first, “that you manage on this poor soil to beat me in crops?” The reply was, “ I work my land.” That was it exactly. Some men have such rich land that they won’t work it; and they | | | never get a step beyond where they began. | has no work to do, or, having work, will not do it. A remarkable illustration of industry and economy is Mr. Lewis Bates, of Chicago. By these sterling qualities he has become ment house being an attractive building and | complete in all its appointments. Mr. Bates has been a worker,:and while he has worked he has saved and invested. He isa fine illus- tration of Afro-American thrift.tHE GUIDE TO: SUCERSS. CARVE OUT YOUR OWN FORTUNE. HE world will not start of itself and | No Afro-American better illustrates these | truths than the Hon. John M. Langston, the It will not turn round while you | | only colored Representative in Congress from look on and do nothing. It will | the Old Dominion. turn round if you are at the crank to make | of his life is that of tl it turn. And you must know how to do the | turning. Do not stand still and look on; | go fer you. You must make it go. The remarkable story 1e first colored lawyer; the powerful anti-slavery agitator; the re cruiter of the famous colored regiments; the you may stand and stare until the heavens | earnest worker among the freedmen; the roll together and be no better for it. You | efficient teacher and trusted adviser; the cannot save your linen; it will get soiled. | faithful holder of public office ; the able poli- Never mind, but roll up your sleeves and go | tician and brilliant statesman ; the popular at it. Better soned linen than none at all. | leader and the powerful and true friend of You cannot play the gentleman if you ever | his race and blood. expect to accomplish anything of importance. Of all the big fortunes in New York, Phila- | A Scholar and Orator. delphia, Chicago and other cities, every one j Mr. Langston was born in Louisa County Ly» was made by hard work and “horny hands;”’ | Va., on the 14th of December, 1329. « Some not one would know a pair of kid gloves time previous to this, his mother had been without an introduction. set at liberty by her master, to whom she Much will be done if we do but try. No- real, yet illegal, relation of body knows what he can do till he has tried ; | wife. Having removed to Ohio, John was and few try their best till they have been | placed in the public school, and afterward forced to do it. ‘“/f 1 could do such and | completed his education at Oberlin College. such a thing,” sighs the desponding youth. | From the first he was an apt scholar, and gave promise of a distinguished career. sustained the But nothing will be done if he only wishes. | The desire must ripen into purpose and He began the study of law and was ad- effort ; and one energetic attempt is worth a | mitted to the bar in 1854. Notwithstanding prejudice on account of his race, he succeeded “ifs”—the mutterings of impotence and | by the force of his pre-eminent ability and despair—which so often hedge round the | showed himself to be fully prepared for the field of possibility, and prevent anythit thousand aspirations. It is these thorny 1g | demands of his profession. At the annive.- sary meeting of the American Anti-Slavery “A difficulty,” says a well-known author, | Society in 1855 he made a speech that “is a thing to be overcome ;” grapple with | marked him at once as an orator. it at once; facility will come with practice, | During the war Mr. Langston was and strength and fortitude with repeated | employed by the government to recruit effort. Thus the mind and character may be being done or even attempted. colored troops, in which capacity he wa ee oo Te ee Bo - trained to an almost perfect discipline, and | very successful. He was afterwards ap enabled to act with a grace, spirit and liberty, | pointed General Inspector of the Bureau of almost incomprehensible to those who have | Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands. not passed through a similar experience. His next great work was founding and . . . oe c Pe en a or ee pe A rd ou mi i 3 b 4 « a | ry ‘ eI . " 4 rt ; a a a A a ye a a ; a 4 Bi 4 i : i | : ® a . B | I ” | . A : 4 ve ms 1 | , F ; : rs easere Lin aa ica ella) cae goin rig 9c ONS RANTS Ci i i A Thon Wi Tt Ta os ae ST Te 5 ay : 7 4 goo) ar "| ; t - : a ot a | ah a : 1A katt 9 a SER. AR UTE ROSETTA WANN ENA od: 124 TH GULDE TO SUCCESS. organizing the Law Department of Howard University, of which for a time he was the acting president. In 1877 he was appointed Minister to Hayti, discharging the | responsible duties of this position with signal ability. He then accepted the presidency of the Virginia Normal and Collegiate Institute, where he was greatly beloved and was con- spicuously successful. In 1888 he was elected to the Fifty-First aN \ \ \ \ WAX Ra He \ \ S \\ \ \ MMA Hon. JoHN Mercer Lanoston, Ex-CONGRESSMAN. Congress. His election was contested, as | the decree had gone forth that no colored | man would be allowed to represent the Fourth Congressional District of Virginia, . . ° ~ ~ | but with characteristic pluck he fought for | his seat, won the contest, and made his | mark in the halls of our national legislation. Mr. Langston has reflected great honor on his race and is a rare example of what a | resolute, self-reliant, persevering man can do, SS \ i \ \ 0 EAN \ \ \ He has carved out his own fortune and is deservedly a man of national fame. Another man who illustrates the same noble traits is PROF. I. GARLAND PENN. Mr. Penn is one of the rising men of the race; in fact, he has already risen. He stands at the very summit of achievement and fame. He was born in the year 1867, in New Glasgow, a small village in Amherst County, Va. His father and mother, Isham Penn and Mariah Penn, were fully aware of the superior advantages of a public school training to their children, and moved to the City of Lynchburg when Irvine was five years old. He passed with success through the primary and gram- mar grades of the schools, and in 1882 entered the junior class of the high school. Circum- stances, over which he had no control, prevented him from at- tending school during the suc- ceeding school year, and, in con- \ sequence, he taught a school in Bedford County, Va. After teaching for one school year, he decided to re-enter the high school, from which he graduated in 1886, having taken high rank. The subject of our sketch has had several years’ experience as a teacher, and has suc- cessfully managed county and city schools During 1883-4 he taught with credit to him- self, and satisfaction to his superintendent and patrons, a school in Bedford County, Va. During the school year of 1886-7 he superintended a school in Amherst County, Va. In 1887 he was elected as a teacher inTHE GUIDE the public schools of Lynchburg, and, in a short time, arose to the position of principal. Though he is young, his executive ability enables him to discharge well the duties of his responsible post. Mr. Penn seeks to inform himself on the principles and methods of education. He aims to keep abreast of the times by pur- chasing and studying the works of leading writers on educational methods. He accepted a position on rhe editorial staff of Zhe Lynchburg Laborer before his graduation. In 1886 Messrs. Penn and Johnson purchased the paper, and Mr. Penn took control of the editorial depart- ment. The paper was not properly supported, and its publication suspended. As editor of this paper Mr. Penn proved himself a skilled and forcible writer. Though he was only twenty years of age, he evinced a good acquaint- ance with practical life and the needs of the race. The unusual ability displayed by this youthful editor won for him encomiums even from several white editors in Vir- TOV SUCCESS: 20 tion with religious and educational work, he has shown marked ability, and is unquestion- ably the best posted man of our race in educational statistics. Prof. Penn is the author of a very valua- ble work entitled “The Afro-American Press,’ giving a. full description of the | Journals published by the race, and graphic | sketches of our leading editors and writers. . _ a r > LE - Ty} =~ ginia. He ardently loves EpwarD A. JoHnson, LL.B. newspaper work, and was once a pleasing and forcible writer for Zhe Richmond Planet | and Virginia Lancet. Mr. Penn’ is an easy, fluent speaker, | having often appeared with great acceptance | at church conferences and educational con- ventions, where his burning words have | deeply stirred the hearts of his hearers and awakened unusual enthusiasm. In all the | many positions he has occupied in connec- | This work has been highly commended by a large number of journals without distinction of race. We take pleasure in stating here that Prof. Penn is a valued contributor to this volume, THE COLLEGE OF LIFE. He possesses sterling qualities, is a tren- chant writer, a fine orator, a staunch Chris- tian, and bears an untarnished reputation. He has shown the mastery of his oratory in addresses and orations which he has delivered Toe eel semana > ees Se alae ad ny . r 3 by 4 4 : 4 , FI : ae < a s | 4 ‘ 4 a . FI rm * 3 ; PS a | A : ; . ee ee oe aTT oe Bere Te PLT a a mall lobar bald eas Peat ae sal? Oe ee A tae ee PRR IP PD al las Ne beat L ; H = : i . i | 1 | 3 i : % a : 4 ky i fs . - : i . mer cs a : eo a pe = g 5] 3 oP ose taia PLL 126 THE GUIDE TO. SUCCESS. Hon. N. WricuHt CUNEY. before many assemblies. He strives hard in the upbuilding of his race, and is meeting with unbounded success. His pupils love and respect him, and look up to him as their leader. Heis very unassuming. His talents do not cause him to soar so high as not to be polite, sociable and ready to help those by whom he is surrounded. The list is not by any means exhausted of those who have carved out their own fortunes and have risen to eminence by the might of their own inherent ability and determination. One of the most conspicuous is Edward A. Johnson, LL.B., a brilliant member of the North Cars a Bar, distinguished jurist, Professor of Legal Forms in the Law Department of Shaw University, Raliegh, N46 )4ane author of the ‘‘Negre School History in the United States. He doesn’t have to go on crutches; he is a man who can stand up and walk alone, being pos- sessed of great ability and constantly exempli- fying the grand traits of industry and _ self-re- liance. Another man of simt- lar make-up is Hon. N. Wright Cuney, of Texas. This man is a born leader of men. Indeed it must be said, that the race has not yet produced his su- perior as an organizer and captain of political forces and movements ‘Without disparagement of others, nevertheless it must be conceded he stands at the head, is chief of that brilliant and active coterie ot race leaders which has given to Texas such enviable consideration among her sis- ter States. His race and his race’s welfare is at al\ times his first, last and only objective point of attainment and effort, and in the service ot the greater object, he allows neither the oppo- sition of personal friends to deter or the malignancy of political foes to stampede him, Being essentially a politician, he understands the art of influencing men and votes. He ranks with Douglass, Bruce and Lynch, and is worthy of great honor and praise. Hety THE GUIDE TO SUCGESS. £27 has been Collector of the Port of Galveston, | continued in the college and graduated June and is a member of the National Republican | 9, 1890, with the valedictory of his class Committee. and is the only colored man in the history of In the same list of shining names must be placed that of F. A. Denison. He was born in Texas, and has attracted universal atten- tion by his championship of Afro-Amerivan rights. He was representative for Western Texas at the Annual Convention held at Nashville in September, 1883, and this was his starting point upon the road to success. With undaunted courage and perseverance he surmounted the obstacles in his path and | | xr : wna a a Di dabe daca d's, BERANE ee ICN NN eee pushed himself to a place in the front ranks. He yvraduated from Lincoln Universit Texas, in 1888, and came to Chicago and Mie entered the Union College of Law in Septem- | Ber of the same year. He surprised the faculty by taking his examination and being | admitted to the bar in March, 1889. But his ambition was not yet satisfied and he | the college to receivesuch honors. In 1891 Mr. Denison was appointed assistant prose- cuting attorney of Chicago, which position he has filled with marked ability. 4 4 P fr y i : f { R | 4 , PATIENCE. ATIENCE always belongs to great | Do not think characters. Only little people are habitually impatient. They make hat everything can come at once. Possess your soul in patience. Do not expect impossibilities, but simply the possible, for which proper efforts have been made. - Patience is not in conflict with a clatter; so does an empty cart. They cannot bear to be crossed. They must i ee eee a. have everything their own way, and gener- | enthusiasm. The one is co-partner with ally it is a very poor way. When they die | the other. Neither will get far without the their friends have a rest. other. Together they are invincible. “T remember,” says John Wesley, “ hear- Most of us ‘ing my father say to my mother, ‘How a eal have had troubles all our lives, and each day has brought more evil could you have the patience to tell that | than we wished to endure. But if we were blockhead the same thing twenty times over?’ ‘Why,’ said she, ‘if I had told him but nineteen times, I should have lost all my labor.’ ” asked to recount the sorrows of our lives, how many could we remember? How many that are six months old should we think worthy to be remembered or mentioned? To-day’s troubles look large, but a week hence they will be forgotten and buried did not grow to man’s stature over night. | out of sight. There is seed-time and afterward harvest, | The world was created during epochs of time. Rome was not built ina day. You . . ee Ss ee atl Patience is the guardian of faith, the pze- pnie ind fo OT oe TT ead ee aaa a aaa AN MCLE RECO PLP ts ee ee ramen ag 4 ' a . : : i . 2 i A ‘¢ ee ee . og 3 k = : F P YecPhs NOS Mes Sista SSN sk rae aoa ae 128 THE GUIDE serv ¢ of peace, the cherisher of love, the teacher of humility. Patience governs the flesh, strengthens the spirit, stifles anger, extinguishes envy, subdues pride ; she bridles the tongue, refrains the hand, tramples upon temptations, endures persecutions, consum- mates martyrdom. Patience produces unity in the church, loyalty in the State, harmony in families and societies ; she comforts the op Uy ree) LSU ema Sf Pa Wn yy oN XM) RE DA ae dS /, ff , ff HUTT \ \ AW WCNWu att ‘ IN Sa" \\t Nae SNE TO: SUCCESs: Pror. W. S. ScarsorouGH, LL.D. poor and moderates the rich ; she makes us humble in prosperity, cheerful in adversity, unmoved by calumny and reproach; she teaches us to forgive those who have injured us, and to be first in asking forgiveness of those whom we have injured; she delights o the faithful, and invites the unbelieving ; she | 7 adorns the woman, and improves the man; | is loved in a child, praised in a young man, and admired in an old man, Be patient with your pains and cares. We know it is easy to say and hard to do. But you must be patient. These things are killed by enduring them, and made strong to bite and sting by feeding them with frets and fears, There is no pain or care that can last long. None of them shall enter the city of God. A little while and you shall leave behind you the whole troop of howling troubles, and forget in your first sweet hour of rest that such things were on earth. This cardinal virtue is especially required by our race, whose wrongs are so many, who have such prejudices to overcome, and who have so much yet to accom- plish, before we can gain the high position we hope to attain. One of the most remarkable examples of this quality in pursu- ¢ one great object is found in that bright ornament of our race, Prof. W. S. Scarborough. It is only by slow and patient labor that any man can gain such dis- tinction as a scholar and man of letters. He was born at Macon, Bibb County, Ga., February 16, 1852, and began school at the age of six years. He early showed a disposition for study and although nominally a slave he succeeded, by stealing out unseen with his books and by such aid as was given him by his white playmates, in learning the rudiments, and at the age of ten he was able to act as secretary for various colored organizations for which services he received a small remuneration. As soon as they were able to do so, his parents sent him to school, and in 1867 he entered the Louis High School and finished | in 1869, going at once to Atlanta UniversityTHE GUIDE FO SUCERSS. and trom “mhere’ to Oberlin College. - He + added to’ their fortune. the subject of this graduated from this institution in 1875 and | went to Macon and taught Latin, Greek and | mathematics. to Oberlin istic Greek and Hebrew. He was Principal of the Pane Institute, now Allen University of Columbia, S. C.; established the first post office at Wilberforce, and was made postmaster, and established and became president of the first young men’s reading room. In 1881 he was associate editor of the Authors’ Review and Scrap Book, and is the author of an excellent Greek text book and of | several able papers. | Mr. Scarborough is a member of a number of educational associations and lodges and is a very able scientific lecturer. He received the degree of B.A. at Oberlin in 1875; A.M. in 1878, and LL.D. in West Africa from Liberia College, in 1878, and was married in 1883 to the talented writer and teacher, Miss Sarah C. Bierce. His educational works hold the highest rank even in institutions of learning attended only by white pupils. Another and similar example may well be placed in connection with the foregoing. We refer to that distinguished author, educa- tor and clergyman, Rev. W. J.Simmons, iy In Charleston, S.°C, June 20, 1549, Edward and Esther Simmons, two slaves, f He soon returned, howev and took up the study of Helen- | ~~ . WSs barat S S ~ AC sketch who, though born in poverty and shrouded in obscurity, was destined to make er, | for himself a name honored among men. At an early period the mother went to Phila- delphia where she and her family were met | 1 sr ANNI 1 HATH Hl | i | | | } | | ll i — Se Za . x xe ww“ \N Pres. W. J. Simmons, D.D. | by an uncle who had gone North some time before, and who cared for the little family as | best as he was able to do. They were hunted by slave traders, who seemed determined to | burrow them out of their hiding place in the little rooms back of the room used by their benefactor as a shoemaker’s shop. ai q toh eek Cee SE ae ee et ad P a ri 3 cs 2 5 4 4 , 2 ee I z r | FI a ; a 3 | | : 4 s G my 3 a : : : | s | ‘ ‘ 4 ; 5 ; Fy i t a ey | Neepe ANTM ID ps Bato SATO nor Use Deets ay Sy Sp TINT ENA (P RAIMI VI wT UB 89 AON EIT AN i 4 = : i ey o ae =a ‘* 2 t : a “2 . k as . a : ; ki _# bi Bi ‘ : fi . i3G THE GUIDE WILEY JONES. At last under the stress of disease and danger, and finding that he could not make a living, the uncle determined to go to sea. For two years the family remained in Rox- bury, Pa., when the uncle returned and took them to Chester where he was able to do a good business, but they were soon obliged to move, on account of the slave traders, and were smuggled to Philadel- phia. During his young life, William's heart was not gladdened by toys so dear to the young, and often for weeks his only food was milk and mush. He never attended a public school in his whole school life, but was given a rudimentary education by his uncle, so that college studies came quite easy to him. He served a year in the army with the colored troops, and in 1871 entered Howard University and graduated as B.A. in 1873. His college life was full of privations and sacrifices as his early youth had been, but the happiness he experienced on the day he graduated, with the salutatory of his class, repaid him for all. In 1879 we find him teach- ing public school in Washington, DA, TO. SUCCESS. and having been ordained in the Baptist Church in 1874, he accepted the pastorate of the First Baptist Church, Lexington, Ky. He soon rose to be president of the State University, Louisville, Ky., and cained wide celebrity as a man of varied accomplishments and vast influence. Dr. Simmons is well known as an educator and author. He died in October, 1890. What patient working and waiting can accomplish is shown in the striking career of Mr. Wiley Jones, a man of wealth and prominence in the financial world. He was born in Madison County, Ga., July 14, 1848, and was taken by his master to Arkansas, where he served as house boy and drove the carriage. From here he went to Waco, Texas, but soon returned and went to work on a farm at $20.00 per month. In 1868 he began work as a barber and continued until 1881, when he went into the tobacco and cigar business, through which he achieved his success. He secured a charter to run a street car in Pine Bluff, his IsAIAH T. MONTGOMERYTHE GUIDE -[O: SUCCKSS. present residence, and ran the first car over | one and one quarter miles 133 He was at one time the slave of Jefferson Davis of the Southern Confederacy. He was the only Afro-American member of the | Mississippi Constitutional Convention, which disfranchised the State. of track aul He is sole owner of the grounds on which the Colored Industrial and Fair Association hold their October I9, 1886. session. He has achieved all by his natural ability and patient industry. Afro-American in that Mr. Montgomery is a scholar and a | prominent man of the race in his State, and . Isaiah | by slow and steady steps has reached a posi- T. Montgomery, general mérchant and suc- | tion of honor and influence, being very cessful business man, Mound Bayou, Miss. | widely known and respected. Another illustration 1s found in Mr MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CULTURE. DUCATE every part Your whole mental and of yourself. | May, 1880, at St. Louis, Mo., and re-elected yhysical | at Baltimore, Md., in ie was chosen nature should be ea aie: to the | Bishop, May, 1888, and ordained May, 188 highest point. How are you to do | at Indianapolis, Ind., by Bishop A. W. it? Certainly not without effort. You must | Wayman and others. work with a will. And don’t be satisfied] This is only a meagre sketch of one of with a smattering of knowle Draw the | our most successful scholars and Bishops put forth your | who has risen to eminence by self-culture hold steadily to your pur- | and diligent effort. pose and do not give dge. deepest water from the well ; grandest powers ; up in discouragement. Look to the noble men who have risen to | PRES. S. T. MITCHELL, A.M. a oe ‘ . ; : se distinction by self-improvement, several; President Mitchell was born September 24, | 1851, in Toledo, Ohio, to David and Nancy | A. Mitchell. From six to thirteen he was in BISHOP B. W. ARNETT. | the public schools of Cleveland and Cincinnati, | and in 1864 entered Wilberforce University, where he was converted in 1865. He helped sketches of whom are here furnished. This bright ornament of his race rose step by step until he reached the highest place in | the gift of his brethren, being the seventeenth | to organize and named the Sodalian Society Bishop of the A. M. E. Church. He was | and was teacher at the University. born at Brownsville, Fayette County, Pa., March 6, 1838, and joined Poverty compelled him to labor on all the farms in the church | the vicinity, yet he graduated with highest i'm 1850; Rev. Lewis Gross, pastor. He was licensed to preach March, 1865, at | He taught at Wilmington, Ohio, two years Union Bethel Church, Washington, D. C., | and was Principal of Lincoln Institute, and joined the Travelling Connection April, | Jefferson City, Mo. 1867, at Lexington, Ky. | He helped organize the Colored Stute In April, 1868, he was ordained deacon | Teachers’ Association, and was its first presi- oy Bishop William Paul Quinn, and elder at | dent; drew up and secured the passage o Xenia, Ohio, April, 1870, by Bishop D. A. | the bill which opened the doors in St. Louis Payne. He was elected financial secretary | Kansas City and elsewhere to coloreé honors from the classical course, June, 1873. en e : * eee on ee ig a a CN aaa ete : S | 4 F =} : , : : : . ate : aba ee ee en eet Mee . a ee Sa mr) Na ~™ aGe Ree Tae eT ay ea eeaaaadalod P Sahieethva aa Rca Ono he ee PE aa Sein BE ah AE TNL tal LOSE bad Poor ge Erg HOON DEE ANN Coe te Tin IA? , ines ‘= rs 4 | - oy i a i “a { - Ys im) a : | - F 3 § MA rs : -§ ¢ be THE GUIDE teachers; was liceased to preach 1875 ; principal in Springfield, Ohio, five years, on ten years’ certificate; lay delegate to General Conference, at Baltimore, in 1884 ; author of Endowment Day and general educational scheme, under which the con- | nection has since operated. He received the degree of A.M. from his | Alma Mater in 1881, and was elected Presi- dent of Wilberforce University in 1884. He has seen his institution double in students, Pror. PETER H. CLARK. uw) property value, in endowment, and treble | in faculty and in annual income. He planned and secured under statute, the organization of the State Normal and Indus- trial Department at the University, which receives $12,500 per annum from the State of Ohio. He received the honor of LL.D. from the State University of Kentucky, in 1889, and appointment by United States TO SUCCESS. Exposition. Under his direction, Wilber. force University was represented at New Orleans Exposition, World’s Fair, Paris, and at the Columbian Exposition. He secured for it the first Military Department organized in a colored institution under Congressional enactment and the patronage of the General Government. Other names that illustrate the value of culture are ready at hand. Few men are better known than Professor P. H. Clark, who was born in March, 1829. He was a great student even in youth and early showed an ability for all kinds of learning. In 1844 he entered the high school of Cincinnati, and by the correctness of his habits and his faithfulness in all things he was given an assistant’s place in the school, and continued his studies in the higher branches. He left school in 1848 and apprenticed himself to a stereotyper, which trade he learned thoroughly. The man with whom he worked sold out the business and moved away, and when Mr. Clark sought employment with his successor he was refused work on account of his color. In 1849 the Ohio Legislature passed a measure allowing colored people to own and control schools, and he was ~iven a position as teacher. After three months the council refused to pay him on the ground that colored people, not being voters and citizens, could not be trustees and employing them as teachers was not legal. When the case was taken to the Supreme Court the law was declared sound and the colored trustees sustained. In 1850 he started to Africa but got no farther than New Orleans, and returned to Commissioner Harris, as a vice-president of | Cincinnati and took an active part in the ea 7 1 “rnc a > Sales a > e ... 4:% - . © the Educational Congress at the Columbian } State Convention in which the “emigrantad Le tHE GUIDB* TO! SUCCESS. 133 TO a+? Tec 1c CcAr A movement was discussed. He filled the! Two months afterward he was appointed . . Ao 2 Se ? es aS : ae 2 : * ais - q e ~ . cueee chair of the free soil paper printed | Acting Assistant Surgeon with the rank of at Newport, Ky., and in 1856 he was on the | of First Lieutenant in the army, which ap- ~ oa ) ?a ice cent ‘ + I KL ; staff of Fred Douglass’ paper. In 1857 he | pointment he accepted and held for twc was recalled to the public schools, to which | years. He acted as Professor of Medical he added later a high school called the | Jurisprudence in Howard University for five Gains High School, of which he was princi- | years, and was then called to the chair of pal for thirty years. | obstretics and women’s ¢ and__ children’s lo his humanity and tender heart are due | At the same time he was electe«] | diseases. the laws which provided for the care of the | pauper and insane colored of the State. In 1853 the National Con- vention of Colored Men met Syracuse. | Secretary of the Medical Faculty and stil! in He drafted a constitu- ~ . as 4 . SR a ea ae a ater ee ee ee tion of the ‘“ National Equal Rights League,’ which did so much to instruct and control our people. Asa politician he has the varying fortunes incident to such a life and has been an important factor in municipal and _ national affairs. The degree of A.M. was conferred upon him at Wilber- force. He has often had small e a . ‘| ~ el . offices offered him but has refused all. He will be no man’s servant Gye Yj je fo run at his beck and call. A s\ ARR AQREE white man of his ability would be president of a State college or ~~. a ee ee ~~ Governor of the State. The profession of medicine has furnished many cultured men, | among them Charles B. Purvis, Dr. Cartes B. Purvis, A.M. A.M., M.D. He was born in Philadel- | holds that position. phia and at the age of two was taken to | charge of the Freedmen’s Hospital, to which Byberry, a small village near Philadelphia, I \ place he was appointed by President Authur. where he spent his early life in the pursuit of | Another name that should be mentioned farm work, having but little opportunity for | in this connection is that of Hon. George W. education. In 1860 he went to Oberlin and | Williams. He was born at Bedford Springs, remained for two years, and in 1862 entered | Pa., and at the age of three years was taken the Medical College of the Western Reserve | to New Castle, Pa. His at Cleveland, Ohio, from which school he graduated in 1805. eT ee He is also surgeon in Nee eee nena ee ad early education comprised two years with a private tutor, four years at the common and high school,eid tht ere Lay ase eae abr aae e tad RE AE LEA PD dal el a Ae eta SN a aaa a De AE tal GO bal i : | : - ae £ Fi i f ra ao: * . .% 7 q a é e eg ® B . : Bi 5: F a Bi ; g -§ S| ) 4 = q 134 THE GUIDE two years at the academy and four years at Newton Centre, Mass. He served in the war and was raised to the rank of Sergeant Major of his regiment. He served in the army in the United States and Mexico until 1868, when he was converted and left off fighting and went to St. Louis, Mo. From 1868 to 1874 he devoted him- self to study and graduated from the Newton Theological Institution. Hon. GEORGE W. WILLIAMS. He was authorized to preach in 1871 and | accepted a call to the Twelfth Street Baptist Church, Chicago; while there he wrote a his- tory of the church. He resigned and went to Washington City and from there took charge of the Union Baptist Church of Cin- cinnati for one year, accepting the appoint- ment as Internal Revenue Storekeeper and Secretary in the Auditor’s Office of the fund to build the Cincinnati Southern Railroad. TO SUCCES». He studied Jaw in the Cincinnati Law School and was admitted to the Bar in 1881, and to the Supreme Court in 1885, and has been a member of the G. Ack for many years. His history of the “Negro Race in America, from I8I19g to 1880,” and “Negro’s as Slaves, as Sold iers -and as Citizens,’ sare, Dis tags pieces and are accepted by the people as standards. He has written many histories and sketches and has been freely and favorably criticised by the leading magazines. John Quincy Adams, the able editor of Zhe Appeal, the leading Afro-American journal, was born in Louisville, Ky., in 1849. His father was the most prominent Afro-American Baptist minister the State has produced. Before leaving his native State Mr. Adams was quite prominent in the coun- cils of the Republican party, serv- ing on the State and City Execu- tive Committees, and was a dele- gate to the Republican National Convention of 1880. He was in the Revenue Service in Kentucky for five years. For seven years he was editor of Zhe Bulletin in Louisville. In this work he gained a national reputa- tion and was elected as first Presi- dent of the Afro-American Press Association. In the early 70’s he resided in Arkansas and was elected Justice of the Peace on the same ticket with President Grant. Afterward he was Assistant Superintendent of Public Instruction of the State. He was also in the Senate of Arkansas. In 1884 he began the publication of Zhe Appeal, now recognized as a leading publication of its class. He resides in the :City of St. PashTHE GUIDE Minn., where he is editor-in-chief and has charge of the St. Paul edition of Zhe Appeal. Mr. Adams has been recognized by his party in Minnesota and had the honor of being the first Afro-American delegate to a State con- vention in that State. One of the most prominent men in West Virginia is J. R. Clifford, who was born at Wil- TO” SUGGESS. 135 corporal in the heavy artillery and afterwards as nurse, To the foregoing names may well be added that of Mr. J. D. Baltimore, the well-known engineer and inventor. He first saw the light in Washington, D. C., April, 1852, and early disclosed a genius for mechanism. His Pe Sy UR as genius brought him to the notice of the press by exhibitions of engines made by him from old pieces of tin, etc. liamsport, Grant County, W. Va., September 13, 1849. At an early age he was taken to Georgia and given a rudimentary education. Early in his career he followed the trade of a barber, but was ambitious for knowledge and He applied to Presi- dent Grant, who sent him to the navy yards of Washington as apprentice. The insults heaped upon him by reason of prejudice led i Ne ae PT Ne ae s .% 3 3 > aa ses rs ee ee mien i oe a 3. . SN \ OA NS ASSBAACO SESS . J. R. CLiFForp. accordingly went to Muskingum County, W. Va., and took a diploma from Mr. White’s School of Writing. For four years he taught writing and then went to Harper’s Ferry and graduated from Storer’s College of that place. Ww 3ALTIMORE. to his transfer to the naval yards of Philadel. phia. In spite of the fact that the men and boys with whom he was thrown refused to show or help him, he succeeded by dint of studying all his spare time, in securing ad- mission to the Franklin Institute. He was ten years Principal of the Martins- He burg Public School and is now editor of the Pioneer Press. Mr. Clifford is a fearless Re- publican, and was elected delegate to the State Convention, and was Commissioner of the Colored Department of the New Orleans Exposition. He isa lawyer and an orator graduated in 1873, and was at once detailed to the naval station at League Island to help repair United States monitors. He found great difficulty in securing employ- ment at his trade, but after many rebuffs he was given a position with Sellers & Bros, He has been engineer of the United States oi some note, and served in the war, first, as | Coast Survey at Washington, and engineer b ; ‘ os : | : : 4 ; 4 4 ‘ , | rs , { : zi : | ee Sin ; a eeSte, Mee (La CH ES re ay eae seaman cua a See ee ) = 4 = . - ft _ | el e 1 _ = cy 8 - a) is 4 = : Re a F a. 136 THE GUIDE and mechanician of the Freedmen’s Hospital. He is the inventor of a pyrometer and is a member of the Mechanics’ Union, where his ability is known and acknowledged. PENNIES SAVED ET no man say that he cannot econo- mize. Thete are few persons that could not contrive to save some- thing weekly. In twenty years one dollar saved weekly would amount to one thousand and forty dollars, to say nothing of interest. Some may say that they cannot save nearly so much. Well! begin some- where; at all events, make a beginning. It is the habit of economizing and denying one’s self that needs to be formed. Economy does not require superior cour- age, nor superior intellect, nor any super- human virtue. It merely requires common sense, and the power of resisting selfish enjoyments. In fact, thrift is merely com- mon sense in every-day working action. It needs no fervent resolution, but only a little patient self-denial. Bram is its device! ane more the habit of thrift is practiced, the easier it becomes, and the sooner it compensates the self-denier for the sacrifices which it has imposed. The question may be asked: “ Is it pos- sible for a man working for small wages to save anything, and lay it by in a savings- bank, when he requires every penny for the maintenance of his family? But the fact re- mains that it zs done py many industrious and sober men; that they do deny them- selves, and put their spare earnings into savings-banks and the othef¥ receptacles provided for poor men’s savings. And if some can do this, all may do it under similar circumstances, without depriving themselves of any genuine pleasure or any real enjoyment, TO 7SUCCESS. These illustrations of the great advantage derived from the culture of the whole man ught to be strong incentives to the rising O generations of colored youth. MAKE DOLLARS. How intensely selfish is it for anyone in the receipt of good pay to spend everything upon himself; or, if he has a family, to spend his whole earnings from week to week, and lay nothing by. When we hear that a man who has been in the receipt of a good salary has died and left nothing behind him—that left them to chance—to live or perish anywhere he has left his wife and family destitute —we cannot but regard it as the most selfish thriftlessness. And yet comparatively little is thought of such cases. Perhaps the hat goes round. Subscriptions may produce something—perhaps little; and the ruined remnants of the unhappy family sink into poverty and destitution Look at the Pennies. 4 | Letters joined make words, And words to books may grow As flake on flake, descending, Forms an avalanche of snow. A single utterance may good Or evil thoughts inspire ; One little spark, enkindled, May set a town on fire. What volumes may be written With little drops of ink How small a leak, unnoticed, A mighty ship will sink ! A tiny insect’s labor Makes the coral strand, And mighty seas are girdled With grains of golden sand Iail eX? AC = i rte -PeANnINnG “ 1 Now for some examples of those who, by | extent of keeping from eight to ten men em- economy and tact, have gained positions of | ployed the year around, it d comfort, if not of affluence. One is Dr. Charles E. Bently. Form the ocean’s tide. | f id not agree with his health and he had to give up the business. He was Superintendent of Olivet Baptist Sunday School for five years and Chairman interesting in that he has had repeated com- | of the Building Committee. Mr. Rollins is pliments conferred upon him by the dental profession of which he is an honored member. He was the only Afro-Ameri- He was born in Cincin- nati in 1859. His professional career is can member of a class of sixty that grad- uated in 1887 from the famous Chicago College of Dental Surgery. In 1889 he was elected Clinician in the Chicago College of Dental Surgery, which position he still holds. He is ar active member of the Chicago Dental] Society, of the Chicago Dental Club and the Odentalgraphic Association. He holds important positions in all these organizations. In 1892 he was elected president of the Alumni Association of his Alma Mater. To preside deliberations of over the twelve hundred men is indeed an honor. One of ours brightest examples of busi- ness tact and economy is Mr. F. W. Rol- lins, of Chicago. He was born in King George County, Va., on November 20 J . + ee Yo Creaprac “Rear 1849. His parents removed to Stafford Dr. Cuartes E. Bent ey. County when he was about a year old, after | a very shrewd financier, and during nis life Pet BD laeceninn Sn abe ee which they removed to Washington City, where young Rollins was raised. In those days colored children could not attend pub- | lic schools. But young Rollins took private instructions until the breaking out of the war, and made good progress. When he was old enough he took a notion to carry out the suggestion of Klorace Greeley, “ Go West, young man.” | made several good investments which have | placed him in very good circumstances, his | wealth being estimated at considerably over $150,000, including his very valuable busi- ness property. He was delegate to three National Grand Sessions of the Odd Fellows, representing Golden Fleece Lodge 1615 of Chicago. He has been for years its permanent Secretary. ‘ . ee Fk ces " es > cad hm, ] 4 4 4 a 4 £ BY a oI | R I oa i << a r gr a é a + is A r] LJ j 3 a ; ° = zy . i od s' J | mt ‘ : i 4 a a ) A ” | 4 , i : ‘er Lay Mia Stee ral obras Se Me 7 eee ne ay NS nt i Da A i Shee he Ss 2 ie Ci . Hi ee s i | ee . | _ | o 2 _ es i # es A ES i rs hs P 5 Fi § i & : ? 138 THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. He was in the employ of the Chicago Tribune | Company for nearly sixteen years, and only ieft for the purpose of going into business for \ \\ \\ \ \\\ \\ } NARA \ “4 ‘ {\\ i F. W. ROLLINS. himself. His success has been remarkable. He has a fine confectionery and ice cream manufactory. He did not start it for the CULTIVATE YOUR HE best teachers have been the readi- est to recognize the importance of self-culture, and of stimulating the student to acquire knowledge by the active exercise of his own faculties. They have relied more upon raining than upon ée/ling, and sought to make their pupils themselves active parties to the work in which they were engaged; thus making teaching something far higher than the mere passive reception of the scraps and details of knowledge. “The best part of every man’s education, ” said Sir Walter Scott, ‘“‘is that which he gives to himself.” “Every person,” says Gibbon, “has two educations, one which he receives from others, and one, more impor- tant, which he gives to himself.” Benjamin Brodie, the eminent surgeon, used to congratulate himself on the fact that professionally he was self-taught. But this FREDERICK. purpose of making money but only to be its business; but “~ was a success from the beginning and he is now receiving a splendid NUN PRINCE ALBERT. ‘ncome from it. Unto him that hath shall be given. Mr. Rollins’ sons a short time ago became heirs to $100,000. BEST QUALITIES. acquired distinction in letters, science or art. The education received at school or college is but a beginning, and is valuable mainly inasmuch as it trains the mind and habitu- ates it to continuous application and study. That which is put into us by others is always far less ours than that which we acquire by our own diligent and persevering effort. Knowledge conquered by labor be- comes a possession—a property, entirely our Own. Good Teachings and Models. No boy or girl is so deficient in mental power or acuteness as to render the task of self-improvement hopeless. By acting upon good teachings and models in the home, and by diligence and patient labor, even un- promising soil can be cultivated and made fruitful. Parents should never abandon a child to itself, nor discourage any endeavor is necessarily the case with all men who have | to mse in the world. It has often proved teLHE’ GUIDE? TO ' SUCGESS. 4139 be the case that those who gave little prom- | successful Afro-American, of whom the same may be said, is the Hon. Samuel Allen Mc- Elwee. ise in their early days happily disappointed their friends afterwards, and showed that they were capable of good things. It was only needful to wake up their slumbering powers and rightly direct them. In the Tennessee Legislature Mr. McElwee | showed himself to be an able and brilliant | orator and debater. This is what has been done in the case of | His school history is full of vicissitudes. He worked tor many | years as farm boy, with but three months in Mr. Gregory was born in Lexington, | the year to attend school, but he studied Va., January 23, 1849, but before he was one year old the family removed to Lynchburg in the same State, and in 1859 to Cleve- land, Ohio. At the latter place he entered the public schools and Prof. James M. Gregory, one of our grandest men. afterward. studied in a_ private school at La Porte, Ind., the Chi- cago public schools, and Cleve- ina. 9 1505 he entered the preparatory department at Ober- lin, and continued in that place for several years, until he was asked by Gen. O. O. Howard to GT “yy Lf cy YEU GY 0 YY fy go to Howard University and there continue his studies, at the same time teaching in the prepara- tory department. This offer he accepted and graduated, and was regularly in- stalled as tutor of Latin and mathematics in 1872. His aim = has been to establish what will be se i known as the Fred. Douglass Pror. JAMES M. GREGORY. Scholarship Fund. He began his political | early and late and passed the examination career very young and has held many hon- | with his class and went to teaching school. orable positions among his fellow-men. He | He went to Oberlin and worked his way for a while, but soon went to Mississippi and of the race and-is continually laboring for | taught school for five years. their advancement. is one of the best extemporaneous speakers | He taught schools in Alabama and Ten- Mr. Gregory is an excellent example of | nessee, and finally took the agency of some what may be done by one who aims high | books, charts and medicines, and at the same and cultivates the best qualities with which | time studied Latin, Greek and algebra, nature has endowed him. Another very | walking ten miles after work twice a week to —_ ee ath ABI ” aa a ene a ell ad i, 3 4 : 3 i Z a «* ES r a ‘ 4 a 7 | . 4 a ct ot ey 5 ] ; A 4 a rs i 3 + 5 F 4 ® 4 . i 5 i ” a 4 ; M7 r F a ef ' fi a Hi , A ; : eae a eeae ee tle CHO £ Fee SWAN A ear saeNY i nt al i tn Daa SITES ea < bak eee _ | -§ 2 : a 5 ee 4 sd bi Fi = < t oy es | oY g ee | a. 7 ee 5 =e : § ' ee Fr} ee ~ ae Pt é . 140 aE Cube -[O; SUCCESS. A \ a \ recite’ He was invited by the President of Fisk University to enter there, and graduated from the institution in 1883. Mr. McElwee is a born politician and has canvassed every year since he was fourteen years of age. He was made a member of the Tennessee Legislature in 1883, while he was still a stu. dent, and was delegate to the Chicago Convention which nominated James G. Blaine for the Presidency. He graduated from the Central Tennessee Col. lege, Nashville, in 1885, finishing the law course. He was a Com- missioner of the Colored De- partment of the New Orleans Exposition. His career is an excellent illustration of what may be accomplished by self- culture and close application. INDEPENDENCE. will at once carry his convictions inte action, Our acts. are: the only things that are in our power. They not only form the sum of our habits, but of our character.. We can do right; we are not only to think right and talk right ; this is not enough. Says Charles Kingsley: Do noble things, not dream them, all day long, And so make life, death, and that vast forever, one grand, sweet song. At the same time, the course of duty is not always the easy course. It has many oppositions and difficulties to surmount. We may have the sagacity to see, but not the strength of purposeto do. To the irresolute there is many a lion in the way. He thinks E who has well considered his duty | and moralizes and dreams, but does nothing. “ There is little to see,’’ said a hard worker, “and little to do; it is only to do it.” The man whose first question, after a right course of action has presented itself, is “What will people say ?”’ is not the man to do anything at all. But if he asks, “Is it my duty?” he can then proceed in his noble achievements, and be ready to incur men’s censure, and even to brave their ridicule “Let us have faith in fine actions,” says a sood writer, ‘““and let us reserve doubt and | incredulity for bad. It is even better to be deceived than to distrust The strong will, allied to right motives, is as full of blessings as a cringing disposition is full of mischief. The man of independenceLHE GUIDE moves and inflames the minds and Gon- sciences of others. He bends them to his views of duty, carries them with him in his endeavors to secure worthy objects, and directs opinion to the suppression of wron and the establishment of right. g The man of strong will stamps power upon his actions. His energetic perseverance becomes habitual. He gives a tone to the company in which he is, to the society in which he lives, and even he is. born. ‘THe is a joy to the timid, and a perpetual reproach to the sluggard. oD vh t() the nation in which “The great end of training,” says a well-known writer, “1s liberty; and the sooner you can geta child to be a law unte himself, the sooner you will make a man of him. I will respect human liberty in the smallest child even more scrupulously than in a grown man; for the latter can defend it against me, while the child cannot. Never will I insult the child so far as to regard him as material to be cast into a mould, to emerge with the stamp given by my will.” Paternal authority and family inde- pendence 1s a sacred domain: and, if momentarily obscured in troublous times, Christian sentiment protests and resists until it regains its authority. But liberty is not all that should be struggled for; obedience, self-restraint, and self-govern- ment, are the conditions to be chiefly aimed at. The latter is the principal end of | education. It is not imparted by teaching, but by example. The first instruction for | youth, says Bonald, consists in habits, not in | reasonings, in examples rather than in direct | lessons. Example preaches better than pre- | cept, and that too because it is so much more difficult. At the same time, the best influ- ences grow slowly, and ina gradual corre- TO SUCCESS. 14) Mr. Charles H. J. Taylor is a striking example of independence of character. Mr. Taylor was born April 21, 1858, in Perry County, Ala.’ His mother, who was an African princess, died when he was nine months old. eee He made rapid progress in his studies and before the age of eighteen had taught several terms of school. He attended Beech Institute, Savanah, Ga., and | also spent some time at Ann Arbor, Mich. CHARLES Ht. J. PAaxeor. In 1878 Mr. Taylor was admitted to the Bar and afterwards spent some time in travel- ling and giving lectures, but his chief thought was politics. He has held the positions of Deputy District Attorney of the Nineteenth Judicial District of Indiana, and City Attor- ney of Kansas City, Mo., and was appointed by President Cleveland, United States Min- ister and Consul-General to Liberia. He 1s spondence with human needs | a loyal, influential and energetic Democrat, ee eS wee ee a er a? a Pee Ne oe | o 3 : ; ‘ ‘ | i A ee " a a * Pe nee Ss eal ~~. S We iaie eeu a a ne! el J en ap EA ARN ENP RSs aT en a SITIOS SE rt) on ree eee pain ral? nrg 9° ee | ee 3 i 4 - aoe a © i = | . a: i . “8 cy Ps MOSM iat Se SASK URS ste Ages Ra ESE eS I , 149 THE GUIDE and has worked earnestly for the furtherance oi his political opinions. In 1888 Mr. Taylor was representative for his party from Kansas City to St. Louis at the National Convention, and has often been nominated for State and County offices. He is the only Afro-American that has been honored with the appointment of United States Minister and Envoy Extraordinary. Mr. Taylor is Recorder of Deeds in the Dis- trict of Columbia, having entered on his duties May 23, 1894. He is an uncompro- mising Democrat and on the race question 1s sound as a dollar. The well-known editor of Zhe Planet affords a most remarkable illustration of resolute independence. JOHN MITCHELL, JR. He was born July 11, 1863, of slave par- ents. His father was a coachman and his mother a seamstress. He attended the pub- lic schools of Richmond, Va., and graduated June 15, 1881, at the Normal and High School. Subsequently he pursued his stud- ies at home, taking the four years’ course of instruction of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle. He took entire editorial charge of the Richmond /lanet in December, 1884, and has held that position ever since. He 1s noted for his outspoken utterances. The case of Richard Walker, a colored man who was lynched in Charlotte County, Va., is what attracted the attention of the country to his bold and courageous efforts. Mr. Mit- chell wrote an editorial condemning the lynching of Walker, who was on his way to Chase City, Va., to see his mother, when he met a white woman, who alleged that he insulted her. For this he was arrested and a mob took him from the jail at Smithville, Va., and hanged him to a tree. TO SUCGCES>. The week following the publication of the atticle in question, a letter was received by Editor Mitchell, upon which was drawn, or rather scribbled, a skull and cross-bones, and within which was a piece of rope and a mis- sive abusing him and daring him to visit the country. It declared that the lynchers would treat him as Walker had been treated. Editor Mitchell wrote an editorial declaring he would visit the country, concluding with the quotation from Shakespeare : ‘There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me like the idle winds Which I respect not.”’ He accordingly secured a brace of revol- vers, drove five miles in the country, after reaching the station, visited the jail in which Walker had been confined, was locked in to inspect it, went to the tree upon which Walker was hanged and then returned to Richmond and wrote another editorial condemning the lynchers. For this, Rev. Dr. W. J. Sim: mons, author of “ Men of Mark,” designated him as the “ gamest Afro-American editor on the Contin ?nt.” [The Prisoner’s Friend. His successful efforts to save the life of Simon Walker, a fifteen-year old colored boy who was sentenced to die and was reprieved four times by Gov. Fitzhugh Lee, and sub- sequently given twenty years in the peniten- tiary, took place in 1888. Mr. Mitchell has secured the release of a host of persons from the jails and penitentiary of this State. A remarkable case was that of Isaac Jen- kins, who in 1894 was lynched in Nanse- mond County, Va., for alleged house burning o and horse poisoning, but escaped after his lynchers had left, having regained conscious- ness, although twice shot. Jenkins was sub- sequently tried and acquitted, Mr. MitchellTHE GUIDE raising the money to defray the expense of the trial. The subject of this sketch served five years as President of the National Afro-American Press Association and declined re-election in September, 1894. He was elected to the Common Council of the City of Richmond in May, 1888 elected to the Board of Alder- men to serve an unexpired term in 1890, and ZO SUCCESS: 143 evidence of his skill. He was awarded a gold medal by the School Board of Virginia for a map of Virginia which he drew. He was awarded another gold medal.for scholar- ship, and still another for oratory. He is a pleasing and forceful speaker, and has received many compliments for his grace- fulness upon the rostrum, and the fervid eloquence of his rhetoric. re-elected for a four years’ term in 1892. Mr. Mitchell has a natural aptitude for drawing, and Zhe Flanet gives abundant As a debater, he has few equals, and his pointed thrusts, unmarred by scurrilous assertions, win the respect of even his opponents. HELP YOUR FELLOW BEING. ACH is, to assist the other; the strong the weak, the rich the poor, the learned the ignorant; and, to reverse the order, those who have least are no less to assist those who have most. All depends on higher degrees of power, for disciples do not make their teachers, nor the ignorant and helpless those who are to instruct and assist them. Though we may look to our understand- ing for amusement, it is to the affections only that we must trust for happiness. This implies a spirit of self-sacrifice, and out vir- tues, like our children, are endeared to us by what we suffer for them. “The secret of my mother’s influence,” says a well-known lady, “was accurately expressed by one who wrote her, ‘I have never known any one so tenderly and truly and universally beloved as you are, and I believe it arises from your capacity of loving.’”’ It is every man’s duty, whose lot has been favored in comparison with others, who enjoys advantages of wealth, or knowledge, or social influenceg of which others are de- prived, to devote at least a certain portion of his time and money to the promotion of the It is not great money power, or great in- tellectual power, that is necessary. The power of money is overestimated. Paul and his disciples spread Christianity over half the Roman world, with little more money than is gained from a fashionable bazaar. The great social doctrines of Christianity are based on the idea of brotherhood. “Do unto others as ye would they should do unto you.” This is the “ golden rule.” It Is All for Self. The men most to be pitied are those wha have no command over themselves, who have no feeling of duty to others, who wander through life seeking their own pleasure, or who, even while performing good deeds, do so from mean motives, from regard to mental satisfaction, or from fear of the reproaches of conscience. Some of those who are vain of their fine feelings love themselves deariy, put have little regard for the individuals abow them. They are very polite to extraneous society; but follow them home and see how they conduct themselves toward their family. “An angel abroad and a devil at home,” is an old saying. general well-being. False sympathy is very common. Sharpe jen =" " ‘ ecalacaa's: * ee aoe ay eee ee ee ee RS ORO NT OC OT ce ia ae . : i m1 mi rl i A a ‘ ¥ i oe eae " : en a eel pn eee “iy ita ee ae ea °oar eo er haar Tae ee le ne Lica eae = Pete aa ai Pe Dh LAR Pda SP Deeb a wig Bom Se LN uaa a Re ak MT a SON al Tee eae eR LOA ANE, A A SOL Oe aaah red aA Se Le Sk Ras PSO BS Ba Bi @ Ms a oy Bs : ee =; se 144 THE GUIDE says that one of the most serious objections to pathetic works of fiction is, that they tend to create a habit of feeling pity or indigna- tion, without actually relieving distress or resisting oppression. Thus Sterne could sympathize with a dead donkey, and leave his wife to starve. Relieving Pain and Misery. The man who throws himself into the existence of another, and exerts his utmost efforts to help him in all ways—socially, morally, religiously—exerts a divine influ- ence. He is enveloped in the strongest safe- guard. He bids defiance to selfishness. He comes out of his trial humble yet noble. The alleviation of pain and misery was a dis- covery of Christianity, a discovery like that of a new scientific principle. The best and the noblest men are the most sympathetic. Wilberforce was distinguished by his power of sympathy. A friend was asked, ‘‘ What is the secret of Wilberforce’s success?”’ “In his power of sympathy,” was the ready answer. He was large-hearted, generous and liberal. He went straight to the front and threw himself heart and soul into every project which had good for its object. He took the lead in every experiment which seemed to him worth trying. And success was the result. Sympathy is the capacity of feeling for the sufferings, the difficulties and the discour- agements of others. It was said of Norman Macleod that sympathy was the first and the last thing in his character. He found in humanity so much to interest him. The most commonplace man or woman yielded up some contribution of humanity. “ When he came to see me,” said a blacksmith, “he spoke as if he had been a smith himself, but he never went away without leaving Christ m my heart.” TO SUCCESS. When about to enter on his work in Glas cow, Norman Macleod said: ‘“ We want liv- ing men! not their books or their money only, but themselves. The poor and needy, the naked and outcast, the prodigal and broken-hearted, can see and feel, as they never did anything else in this world, the love which calmly shines in that eye, telling of inward light and peace possessed, and of a place of rest found and enjoyed by the weary heart. They can understand and appreciate the utter unselfishness—to them a thing hitherto hardly dreamed of—which prompted a visit from a home of comfort and refinement to an unknown abode of squalor or disease, and which expresses itself in those kind words and tender greet- ings that accompany their ministrations.” A Wide Chasm. There is a tremenduous lack of sympathy, This is the main evil of our time. There is a widening chasm which divides the various classes of society. The rich shrink back from the poor, the poor shrink back from the rich. The one class withholds its sym- ruidance, the other withholds its pathy and ¢g respect. Instead of the old principle that the world must be ruled by kind and earnest guardian- ship, in which the irregularities of fortune are in part made up by the spontaneous charity and affection of those who were better born, the ruJe now is, that self-interest, without regard to others, is the polar star of our earthly sphere, and that everything that stands in the way is to be trodden down beneath our unfeeling hoofs. A fine illustration of a useful citizen and helper of his race is Mr. Theodore W. Jones, County Commissioner of Cook County, Ills. He was born September Ig, 1853, during a temporary residence of his parents at Hamikad es we eres oe ea ae rs EY ci Dita ne. 2 fe be etic e ape NS Re ae “&t. ee ee a ee Pe A Sera en peseheg eae GRADUATES OF ATLANTA BAPTIST COLLEGE AND SPELMAN Se Nae rn = a alae a de ad Lah Py eee ior OT ays7 Seda Wedd Sy eS peau nell Pulao EZ ro Wien ost rd Ce ROE CL 1a Sate ee PL PPD oda Ss Sah Pa aataA at ii MASEL WS else Os 2 ad Dea 2d eden abet Ba a one pad TA Sa aS ROW NMta hh te X wie Asati COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY KURZ & ALLISON FEBRUARY 10TH, 1864 FLA:, BATTLE; OF OLUSTEE. FEDERALS COMMANDED BY GENERAL SEYMOUR ; CONFEDERATES BY GENERAL GARDNERATLANTA BAPTIST COLLEGE GRAVES HALL, ot a ee ted ee ~s ors EN re as tae Di. once be aes Se ee ee Se nae eT = od a ee all ew eas aT ne Be SeS ose seemae ee ete OO eer TE Beet Oe mh ee eo ree. a eae ee R. R. WRIGHT “ATE PAYMASTER IN THE UNITED STATES VOLUNTEER SERVICE, NOW PRESIDENT OF THE GEORGIA STATE INDUSTRIAL COLLEGE ae SADLY eee vi? Pre Weise NPIS Ti1. T. THomAS FORTUNE, Journalist. 2. BOOKER T. WASHINGTON, Educator. 3. HON. FREDERICK DGUGLASS, Statesman. 4. I. GARLAND PENN, Author, Orator; Chief Commissioner, Atlanta Exposition. ) 5. Miss IDA B. WELLS, Lecturer, Defender of the Race een ed Fe a RN Nl cheiel ee ee ee le eee ; : : | i Voy ee ee pepe a See ore ay - heer t abel ten are2a ) LMC ae Bas Patines eye Dad na ecard LBP se ae Ce Be ak CTT Ae ace fkad NOE Lad 200) a Pa Laat ats as ae “ate Yio ois iki, eae ES EO See oe Fe Meant i i i REV. BISHOP OF AFRICAN M. B. W. ARNETT Ey CHURCH ORATOR AND STATESMANFre ne Opry, \\ \s S \\ \ . \S \ xh \\ \ S S NW SAR DR. D..o. WILLIAMS. of CrIcaco v 3) Ms aa ra 4 e —/ ¥ me i ee _— +} — > om eteas e —_ aa i SI oD) a ts IF ~ ) —_ v Ee re — — cod = tf i a 6 bet MH oo en) — - 5 i eo 4 LY L, SAMU shed Colored 4 4 ps! Kn or ae Ki 0 = mw A or ~ nD — Leading Colored Phys ician Yhio , Wilberforce, Jniversity SO | i ee Pate Seater a ee eC ee ee »s . NS a ar eg Pr eee Kee S powders 3 Pe ee | tiie oe oh A nee td pe OPIear ary ee ay a ead aed a Ne eC Pan Palas el So hee so ae eA ASR ia Pats ant Se aah at Soll bak i Ca ee ee ete te teMeeuncaned cane a oat BEAD “ena k Be : | ee x ' cy : es j Hose ; x * fF t | | ' } : { f { : } f } { i | i +. | SM £ ay Ag 3 » Say HEROIC CHARGE OF THE TENTH CAVALRY (COLORED) AT SAN JUANIe GUIDE Tu SUCCESS. 14a he “office sought the man.” His 1ere they | collegiate training has made ‘him a student, Casting their gaze ton, Ontario. His parents soon returned to | can be said t their native State of New York, wl resided for six years. S ve " . Sn *an vis Ye ed Pe See es Ce en ee es and he is especially versed in political and economical questions. Jt is true’ that- Mr. | Jones has given the greater part of his time to | the management of his business, but he has | found time to do his duty as a church man. Quinn Chapel, the finest and largest A. M. E. Church in the West, early elected him their trustee, which office he has satisfactorily filled. Mr. Jones is well known throughout the West, his business relations bringing him a . A 4) e " a a . BO ne No ene wide acquaintance, including the first fami- lies of Chicago, for whom he has done busi: = : ness for a number of years. He has con- THEODORE W. JongEs. ducted himself in private life so that he has a host of personal friends, and is the bene: westward they decided to make Illinois their home, and in 1865 settled in Chica SO. Theodore Jones was then about twelve years old, and his parents being poor were unable to give him a com- mon school education, so that at that early age the => | | | } factor of large numbers of his people. | Pt A A 4 4 , young boy was compelled to support himself. PMN hn te tle At the age of fifteen young aro ot Jones was driving an express wagon, and without a dollar of assistance from any one, com- menced the business of express- ing and moving. At the age of twenty-five he matriculated in the department of literature, science, and the arts of Wheaton Coluuege, where he remained for three years, after which he re- turned and resumed his _busi- less. - ae eee RE ee ane enna Mr. Jones never held a po- litical office before that of County Commissioner. Having al atid a canon had no political aspirations it Kx Hon. ROBERT HARLAN.see: ere ny aoe ec a aaah er cr eee 1 Distal Pl Si ele fone OD teats | ¢ _ q | i. a 2 - . oe aces SRNR SSS LION Ry Sn ir tiene WES “NAL II Pe es Seba Pea: 146 THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. Mr. Jones is President of the Masonic Widow’s and Orphan’s Home and Vice- President of Provident Hospital, the only Afro-American institution of its kind in the world. He finds delight in looking after the needy and unfortunate. Another whole-souled man is Hon. Robert Harlan, who was born in Meck- lenburg county, Va., December 12, 1816, and went to Kentucky at the age of eight years, where he was raised by the Hon. James Harlan. He was allowed unusual liberties, and was taught in the rudimentary branches by Mr. Harlan’s older sons. As was customary in those times, he hired his | time and opened and operated a barber shop | at Harrodsburg and afterwards a grocery store at Lexington. In 1848 he went to California, where he amassed a considerable fortune and returnea to Cincinnati, in order to invest it in real estate. He did well at the photographing business and visited the World’s Fair at London. Upon his return he went to Ken- tucky and purchased his freedom legally with $500. In 1858 he took his family to live in England, and remained there until 1368. He has held many honorable politi- cal positions. He is alsoa student of politi- cal economy and a big-hearted man full of life and sport, and ever ready to lend a help- ing hand to those less fortunate than himself. HAVE A DEFINITE AIM. O not mistake your calling. Find out what you are fitted for, and | then up and at it. be a mechanic when you are cut out for a teacher, a lawyer or a farmer. Bend your emergies all in one direction and press on, keeping your great object con- stantly right before your eye It is not the quantity of study that one gets through, or the amount of reading, that makes a wise man; but the advantage of the study to the purpose for which it is pursued; the concentration of the mind, for the time being, on the subject under consid- eration ; and the habitual discipline by which the whole system of mental application is regulated. Abernethy was even of opinion that there was a point of fulness in his own mind, and that if he took into it something more than it could hold, it only had the effect of pushing something else out. Speak- ing of the study of medicine, he said: “ if | Don’t try to | The most profitable study is that which is conducted with a definite aim and object. By thoroughly mastering any given branch of knowledge we render it more available for use at any moment. Hence, it is not enough merely to have books, or to know where to read for information as we want it. Practical wisdom, for the purposes of life, must be carried about with us, and be ready for use at call. Itis not sufficient that we have a fund laid up at home, but not a nickel in the pocket: we must carry about with us a store of the current coin of knowl- edge ready for exchange on all occasions, else we are comparatively helpless. Decision and promptitude are as requisite in self-culture as in business. The growth of these qualities may be encouraged by accustoming young people to rely uapon their own resources, leaving them to enjoy as much freedom of action in early life as is practicable. Too much guidance and re- a man has a clear idea of what he desires to | straint hinder the formation of habits of self- do, he will seldom fail in accomplishing it.” | help. They are like bladders tied under theTHE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. arms of one who has not taught himself to swim, 147 science in the same way; we leary chemistry Want of confidence is, perhaps, a | by listening to a short course of lectures enlivened by experiments, and when we have inhaled laughing-gas, seen green water greater obstacle to improvement than is gen- erally imagined. It has been said that half the failures in life arise from pulling in one’s | turned to red, and phosphorus burned in horse while he is leaping. oxygen, we have got our smattering, of which the most that can be said is; that though it may be better than nothing, it is a ee ee ee Dr. Johnson was accustomed to attribute his success to confidence in his own powers. True modesty is quite compatible a with a due esteem of one’s own merits, and does not demand the abnegation of all merit. Though there are those who deceive them- selves by putting a false figure be- fore their ciphers, the want of confi- dence, the want of faith in one’s self, and consequently the want of promptitude in action, is a defect of character which is found to stand “ery much in the way of individual progress; and the reason why so : - ie ; aN a ae OE ee A 5 Se ee ee et aa ro a little is done is generally because so little is attempted. re There is usually no want of de- sire on the part of most persons to arrive at the results of self-culture, but there is a great aversion to pay the inevitable price for it, of hard work. Dr. Johnson held that “impatience of study was the men- tal disease of the present genera- tion;” and the remark is still ap- plicable. We may not believe that there is'a royal road to learning, Jo Ao AR but we seem to believe very firmly in the | yet good for nothing. Thus we often imagine we are being educated while we are only amused. “popular” one. In education, we invent fabor-saving processes, seek short cuts to science, learn French and Latin “in twelve Charles Dudley Warner makes the amus- ing suggestion that some enterprising Yan- kee will yet invent a machine whereby a young man or womai) can drop a nickel in the slot and pull out an education. One Afro-American, who set a defir‘st lessons,” or ‘‘ without a master.” We resemble the lady of fashion, who engaged a master to teach her on condition that he did not plague her with verbs and participles. We get our smattering of : | : 4 4 P| Fi a | ‘ Fy ; 4 5 , t H A rs | i | I | Fa ae enSe oe TT re oy ae aaa ahah prunes Bee eS ial OE Gn ABER RE LRP la St etna ot EK. = ; | ' - | BE ; 2 : 2 es =e fe ; : : “Ff “sy S ry § i t . 4 bd | 2 . GTR TT we 148 THE GUIDE aim before him and pursued it until success crowned his efforts, is Mr. J. A. Arneaux, tragedian and poet. His father was a Paris- ian by birth and his mother was of French | of | in the Academic Royal Des Inscriptions et descent. He was born in the State ? \\ Y iy y, is YY) bh LLU YW Wt YW i) Mie q) fl! Uo Ds ih Lo Vy) i, Hikes Ft MDH NN SE ea RAW iW NY \\\ we - b) ARN AMT ee AA i RA ALDRIDGE. Georgia in 1855. He is a man of great talent, graceful and pleasing in his manner, and of undying ambition. He entered school at the age of fifteen and graduated after four years from the Beech Institute, and went to New York, where he studied Ger- LO, SUCCESS: man, Latin and kindred branches. He entered Berlitz School of Languages and | perfected himself in the French language. He then visited Paris and took a course Belles Lettres et Morals et Politique. He appeared shortly afterwards as a song and dance artist in Tony Pastor’s Metro- politan and the old Globe. He took parts in minor plays until 1884, when he took the part of “Iago.” His success in this venture led to the formation of the Astor Place Tragedy Company, colored. In 1885 he took the character of “ Richard III.” in which character he excels. He has written for several periodicals, and has also written a number of meritorious poems. Mr. Arneaux is also a graduate of the New York Grand Conservatory of Music and Elocution. False Education. Here is a young man who was willing to study and work. The faculty with which y UNG per yple ace induced to acquire knowledge, without study and labor, is not does not en- education. It occupies but rich the mind. It imparts a stimulus for the time, and produces a sort of intellec- tual keenness and cleverness; but with- out an implanted purpose and a higher object than mere pleasure, it will bring with it no solid advantage. In such cases, knowledge produces but a passing impres- sion: a sensation, but no more. Thus the best qualities of many minds, those which are evoked by vigorous effort and independent action, sleep a deep sleep, and are often never called to life, except by the rough awakening of sudden calamity ot suffering, which, in such cases, comes as a blessing if it serves to rouse up a courage- ous spirit that, but for it, would have slept on.1H. GUIDE TO SUCEESS The evil is a growing one, and operates in | various ways. Its le 149 | American actors, was born at Belair, near | Baltimore, in 1804. He was brought in contact with Edmund Kean, whom he | accompanied in his trip through Europe. He | made his appearance first at the Royalty ise, we must diligently | Theatre in Lond lon, in apply ourselves, and confront the same con- | “Othello tinuous appiication which others did: for , and ever will be, the inevitable | Edmund * Gai. as price set upon everything which is valuable. to work witha pur- ist mischief is shallow- | hess; its greatest, the aversion to steady labor which it induces, and the low and feeble tone of mind whi Pe ee ee Oe ee Sa ch it encour: wes. If we would be really wi the character of F 2 4° 5 ) . In Ireland *e performed “Othello,” with labor is still O, ago S. In. ook. ine appeared ia Germany in Shakespearean characters. The King of Prussia pose, and wait the result with patience. deeply moved with his How, without these grand qualities, could | sent hi ita Aldridg¢ ha ed t We must be saitened was so appearance that he um a congratulatory letter and con- upon him the title of chevalier in rec- great tragedian, who has ee of his dramatic genius. He stuck the head of the list of Afro- | nobly to his calling and reached t lieved his remarkable | successes? This always been at ; . : RS RE ee ee ee ae ne ee ae Re Ne he top. SELF=RESPECT. ELF-RESPECT is the noblest gar- | by the proper indulgence of this feeling. ‘ ment with which a man may clothe | Poverty itself may be lifted and lighted up : himself—the most elevating feeling | by self-respect ; and it is truly a noble sigh. with which the mind can _ be | to see a poor man hold himself upright inspired. One of Pythagoras’ wisest max- | | amid his temptations, and refuse to demean ims. in his “G himself by low actions. iden Verses,” is that with which he enjoins the pupil to “ rever | 4 : reverence One way in which self-culture may be himself.’ Borne up by this high idea, he | degraded is by regarding it too exclusively will not defile his body by sensuality, nor his | as a means of “getting on.” Viewed in This sentiment | this light, it is unquestionable that education is one of the best investments of time and root of all the virtues—cleanliness, sobriety, | labor. In any line of life, intelligence will enable a man to ad mind by servile thoughts. carried into dailv life. will be found at the chastity, morality and religion. pt himself more readily to circumstances, suggest improved methods selves,’ said Milton, “may be thought the | of working, and radical moisture and fountain-head from ] ] : a4] = whence every laudable and worthy i “The pious and just honoring of render him more apt, skilled and effective in all respects. enter- prise issues forth.” To think meanly of one’s self, is to sink in one’s own He who works with his head as well as | his hands, will come to look at his business | with a clearer eye; and he will become con- tion as well as in the estimation of | scious of increasing others. And as thoughts are, so will the | estima- power—perhaps the most cheering consciousness the human mind can cherish. The power of self-help will sradually grow; : ee . ‘. , Pe a ee ‘a AR ARAL: Daa donta tint Slatin te th es ali ee acts be. Man cannot aspire if he looks ne and in proportion to a | | down; if he will rise, he must look up. | | . * | man’s self-respect, will he be armed against The very humblest may be _ sustained7 Re Ao oe SO oe eer ae eS Se ed beams Ie ae Mr OE ea ad el A eA LA PD al) a ea I 5 mah y) AG IIE BIOS TOE EA YD ORORM TE eet ae ne — i 7 : os a nf & _-£ i ¥ E a x 4 i - a a - eet, a: o¢ ae : ay bi a 5 : 3 | hd | : 150 wHE GUIDE the temptation of low indulgences. Society and its actions will be regarded with quite a new interest, his sympathies will widen and enlarge, and he will thus be attracted to work for others as well as for himself. Self-discipline and self-control ate the beginnings of practical wisdom ; and these must have their root in self-resrect. Hope springs from it—hope, which ts s4.. compan- ion of power, and the mother of success ; Pror. D. A. STRAKER. for who hopes strongly has within him the vift of miracles. The humblest may say: ‘To respect my- self, to develop myself—this is my true duty in life. An integral and responsible part of the great system of society, I owe it to society and to its Author not to degrade or destroy either my body, mind or tustincts. On the contrary, I] am bound to the best of my power to give to those parts of my con- TO: SUCCES: stitution the highest degree of perfection possible. [J am not only to suppress the evil, but to evoke the good elements in my nature. And, as I respect myself, so am I equally bound to respect others, as they, on their part, are bound to respect me.” Hence mutual respect, justice and order, of which law becomes the written record and guar- antee. We might point to many who give force and point to these commonplace, yet weighty truths, among them Prof. D. Augustus Straker, LE, Prof. Straker was born in the Island of Barbadoes, West Indies, in the year 1842. His father died when he was very young, and his mother, a hard working woman, was left to take care of his education. He be- gan school at the age of seven, and ater finished the English course at the Central Public School of the Island. He was put to learn tailor- ing, but persuaded his mother to allow him to continue his studies, and gave his attention to French and Latin. Came to Teach the Slaves. At the age of seventeen he was made principal of St. Mary’s School, and taught in St. Amis and St. Giles Schools on the Island. In 1868 he decided to come to America to teach the newly-emancipated slaves, and taught under the auspices of the Episcopal Church and the Freedmen’s Bureau in Louisville, Ky. He entered the law school of Howard Uni- versity in 1870, and graduated with honors in 1871. He held the position of stenogra- pher for Gen. O. O. Howard, of the Freed- men’s Bureau, and teacher in the normal and preparatory department of the college.tHE GUIDE TO: SUGEESS: Prom 1871 to 1875 held the position of first- class clerk in the Auditor’s Office of the United States Treasury Department, and later as second-class clerk. 15] Howard University, Washington, D. C., in 1869, and from there, in 1873, he went to Pe Oe ee ad the South Carolina University and graduated He was then | in 1875, receiving the desrcey ef A. 5: appointed Inspector of Customs, Charles- | Graduating from the law department of the ton, S.C. He was three times elected to | same institution in the same year, he re- the Legislature from Orangeburg County, | ceived the title LL.B., and was counsel in a but was each.time denied his seat, and after- | murder case immediately thereafter. wards formed a law partnership with the Hon. R. B. Elliot. In 1882 he was called to the deanship and professorship of law of Allen University, Columbia, S. C. Since then he has given strict attention to his profession, and has A Visit to Africa. After practicing law for two years, and at the same time being professor of mathematics in the State Agricultural College, he entered Princeton College, where he studied for two years ; then, after ordination, he was given the pastoral charge of Bethel Methodist Episcopal Church in New York City. Here he remained until 1883, when he accepted a position as professor in Liberia College, Africa. After travelling in Europe for some time he went to Africa, but soon became dissat- ished and returned to America, lectured awhile and resumed the practice of law in 1886. Mr. Stewart has retired from the ministry and gives his entire time to the prac- tice of law. He is gifted as a lecturer and reflects credit upon the race. — Pror. IT. McCants STEWART. He is a true man, and everywhere, and under almost all circumstances, however externally adverse on our wild frontiers, in cottage hamlets, in the close alleys of great towns—the true man may grow. He who tills a space of earth scarce bigger than is needed for his grave, may work as faithfully, and to as good purpose, as the heir to thou- sands. The most common workshop may thus be a school of industry, science and good morals, on the one hand; or of idle. ness, folly and depravity, on the other. It all depends on the individual men, and the use they make of the opportunities for good which offer themselves. won many noted cases. He is an orator of rare ability, and has written and delivered many fine lectures. Mr. Straker is now a member of the A. M. E. Church, though he claims to hold no special denominational views. He has held the position of Judge of the Circuit Court of Wayne County, Michigan a a : , a] Y 7 | al 4 4 D| 2 Z 4 ¢ : .' F r = 4 aA 4 4 2 a | 2 ve a PI ; H 4 : fi 5 x , * x Py 2 | : A : P { | 4 ; ; t i i nm i j cI ” ms Another distinguished man who may well be mentioned in this connection is Prof. T,. McCants Stewart, LL.B. He was born of free parents in Charleston, S. C., December 28, 1852, and began school in his native city atthe age. of five.. He:-was sent ta “ , ee fe NN as ews . mt ep) Aes, o = ern : ; ee ee ere Land a caleba ee AR a EE ee had are Ne PR aR aR LE Dla) Sala DAL lek Past a a ad migpeit OS eae as a eas eae ee ee eee ee a em Oe ee es te an cae a mC RY Pf USGL Sc i eal A A RT ROE NR ARG at a LAU AL lO 152 THe GUIDE TO “SUCEESS. BUSINESS FIRST, PLEASURE AFTERWARDS. VEN on the lowest ground—that of personal enjoyment—constant use- ful occupation is necessary. He who labors not cannot enjoy the reward of labor. ‘We sleep sound,” said Sir Walter Scott, “and our waking nours Hon. Epwarp W. BLyp_en, LI are happy, when they are employed; and a little sense of toil is necessary to the enjoy- ment of leisure, even when earned by study and sanctioned by the discharge of duty.” Work hurts nobody; it is true, there are | men who die of overwork; but many more | die of selfishness, indulgence and idleness. | Where men break down by overwork, it is most commonly from want of duly ordering their lives, and neglect of the ordinary con- ditions of physical health. We doubt | whether hard work, ‘steadily and regulatsy | carried on, ever yet hurt anybody. | phen again, length of years is no proper test of length of 4fe. A man’s life is to be measured by what he does in it, and what he feels in it. The more useful work the man does, and the more he thinks and feels, the more he really lives. The idle, useless man, no matter to what extent his life may be prolonged, merely vege- tates. The early teachers of Christianity ennobled the lot of toil by their example. “He that will not work,’ said the Apostle Fas ‘neither shall he eat;” and he glorified himself in that he had labored with his hands, and had not been chargeable to any man. When St. Boniface landed in Britain he came witha Gospel in one hand anda carpenter’s rule in the other; and from England D. he afterwards passed over into Germany, carrying thither the art of building. Luther also, in the midst of a multitude of other employments, worked diligently for a living, earning his bread by gardening, building, turning, and even clock- making. Constant useful occupation is wholesome, not only for the body, but for the mind. While the slothful man drags himself indo-THE GUIDE TO SUCEESS. 153 lently through life, and the better part of his speaks and writes fluently forty different nature sleeps a deep sleep, if not morally and languages. He was at one time a Presby- also spiritually dead, the energetic man is a | terian preacher, but is now an advocate of the source of activity and enjoyment to all who | Mohammedan religion, with which faith he come within reach of his influence. Even | has had every opportunity to familiarize him- any ordinary drudgery is better than idle- | self. HGS. Mr. Justin Holland won distinction in his We wish to mention several famous men 10 have achieved great success by strict tention to their calling. Without doubt profession by long and patient endeavor. He was born in Werfolk| Va. in 1816. “In childhood his talent for music bespoke so much of a bright future that he determined to cultivate it. , the most learned man of the race is Dr. Blyden, who was born in St. When fourteen he left the home of his birth and went to Boston, from which he made his way to Chelsea, Mass. At this place he earnestly began the study of music. He evinced much skill on the eight-keyed flute. He was obliged to work hard to defray his expenses, which were quite heavy, and practice part of the time allowed him for sleep. ? 4 = 4 = Fr 4 4 3 aS 3 a if rs a 4 | u 4S aes pa £ ca rr a Ls ‘ | a a 7 2 | d rs , rt 4 4 = H EY ? = A | 44 r - | mi z | 4 ed a P| eI j PY cy a m ; v4 RS rs A Musician and Author. In 5841 he entered Oberlin College and worked diligently. In 1845 he went to Cleveland, and was successful in getting in ee ee the best families to teach music. In 1848 he published many arrangements for the guitar, and also wrote instruction books for the same instrument. He is the author of “Choral Reform” and ‘ Holland’s Method ProF. JUSTIN HOoLLanp. | for the Guitar.” | Beside being a fine guitar- ist, Mr. Holland was also a fine pianist and August 3, 1832; but lived in the United | flutist. He was a distinguished Mason, and States for a considerable time in his youth. |} has held many important offices in the In 1851 he, with his brother, went to Lib- | lodge, he died in the city of New Orleans. eria Another name of singular merit and aptly illustrating the advice here given of attend- Thomas, one of the Danish West Indies, ‘ : eC Oe ell , where he is still. and afterwards became principal of, the Alex- andria High School, and has held many o ing first to business and your daily pursuit positions of trust under the Liberian Gov- | is that of Prof. J. C. Corbin, who was born in | Chillicothe, Ohio, March 26, 1833, and was educated in the winter schools of Chilli- edthe. At the ace of fifteen. he went fo It is said that he ! Louisville, Ky., to assist in teaching. After He was educated at | ernment. ao He is a distinguished linguist, a prolific aoe magazine writer and a profound student of the Arabic language.SeenON EMP Ys Ne ei ten a Ba PSTD, ee Satie chaos ral Fe A LIA PD odd ali DAL ahaa : ae Shas ik ches Ama As aed ech de a tT ee at hl Oe aad = 4 e a ae A 2 - i i ee 3 : a e 4 S q oy i ¥ # a e 5 BA 154 THE GUIDE teaching some years, he went to the Ohio University, and was able to enter the Sopho- more Class. Graduating in 1853, he re- turned to Louisville, and was employed as Prog. J; CG. CORBIN. clerk in a mercantile agency, and then in a bank. He was engaged as a reporter for the Arkansas Republican, and went to Arkansas in 1872. Here he was made chief clerk in the Little Rock Post-office, and then was elected State Superintendent of Public In- struction, in which position he served two years. After teaching two years in Lincoln Institute, he returned to Little Rock, and was sent to Pine Bluff to establish the Branch Normal College, of which school he has been principal ever since. Professor Corbin is a fluent reader of Greek, Latin, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Hebrew and Danish, and is especially proficient in mathematics. He is a Baptist in denomina- tion and a thorough church-worker. In this connection we present to the pub- lic a sketch of John G. Jones, Esq., who is a brilliant and successful clear-headed lawyer at the Chicago bar. He was born on the TO SUCCESS. 18th day of September, 1849, at Ithica, Thompkins County, State of New York. Lawyer Jones was admitted to the bar by the Supreme Court of Illinois in 1883. He is a prominent man and highly respected by all. He is full of energy, zeal and deter- mination, and has the courage at alltimes to express his convictions. He has done much to advance and promote the interests of his race, which will always be appreciated and remembered by his fellow countrymen. On the recommendation of the late Sen- ator John A. Logan, of Illinois, and the late Senator Conkling, of New York, Mr. Jones was appointed by President Grant as Special United States Commissioner to the Island of Cuba to investigate the complaints and charges that had been made about the colored people of the United States being captured and sold there as slaves. Mr. Jones was the first man in this country that gathered the statistics of the amount of property that the colored people owned in the United States of America. CHARLES W. ANDERSON. Lawyer John G. Jones is a thirty-third degree Mason, and has the honor of now being the highest and most distinguished colored Mason in the world. He was theTHE GUIDE first colored Mason in the United States of America to have the degree of the Mystic Shrine of Freemasonry conferred upon him, and with power and authority granted to him | by the Grand Council of Arabia to confer the degree upon the colored Masons in this | country. he is holding a high and impor- tant position in the Order, as Most Imperial Grand Potentate of the Imperial Grand Council of the Mystic Shrine of Masonry for North and South America. He makes a success of whatever he undertakes. NATURAL OME one has said that labor is a sul | stitute for genius. There are per- | sons who have great natural ability, | and are gifted to a Georee: It is remarkable . not certain, however, that | , on this account, make life a grand | they will SUCCESS. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the renowned painter, | { | tale ZO) SUCCESS: 155 The foregoing lessons of success through steady endeavor are also taught in the bril- liant career of Mr. Charles W. Anderson. | He i IS a graduate of Yale College, and was | private secret: ary to the State Treasurer of | New York. He delivered an oration on Lincoln’s Birthday before the Marquet Club of Chicago, one of the leading Republican | Clubs of the West, which marked him at | once as a scholar and an orator. He is a thorough worker, a man of rare endowments, and wins by acknowledged merit. ABILITY. devoted to the pursuit double the time and labor that they did. It is the use we make of the powers in- | trusted to us, which constitutes our only just claim to respect. He who employs his one ent aright is as much to be honored as he to whom ten talents have been given. There iS really no more personal merit attaching to whose works are masterpieces, was so earnest | the possession of superior intellectual powers a believer in the force of industry that he | than there is in the succession to a larce | held that all men might achieve excellence | estate How are those powers if they would used—how The mind may accumulate large stores of knowledge with- | out any useful purpose ; but the knowledge the proficiency of {| must be allied to goodness and wisdom, and an artist except the limit of his own pains- | embodied in upright character, else taking. He would not believe in what is | naught. called inspiration, but only in labor, Bu but exercise the power of | is tl assiduous and patient working. He held that drudgery 1. lat estate employed ? ly on the road to genius, and that there was no limit to it is study and What Makes the Man. “Excellence,” he said, It is not ease, but effort—not facility, but difficulty, that makes men. There is, per. haps, no station in life, in which difficulties them ; if you have but moderate abilities, } have not to be encountered and overcome dastry will supply the deficiency. Roche before any decided measure of success can is denied to well-directed labor; nothing be achieved. Those difficulties to be obtained without it.” { “is never granted | to man but as the reward of labor.” “ i | you have great talents, industry will improve is are, how: ever, our best instructors, as our mistakes Sir Fowell Bux- : ‘ cae - 4 : a e : 2 ton was an equal believer in the power of | often form our best experience. Charles study; and he entertained the modest idea | : | James Fox was accustomed to say that he ft | that he could do as well as other men i” he | hoped more for a man who failed, and yet * Oe ee ea ; ~~ ,. ee a es ae So nee Pe ed ~ Nad he ar oe S ek ee A ee, o 5 ah ns, ~~ " pM - 43% , we , ~~ sar oe Sra ee ey STE P 5 ee ee Si ee NS Tes ieee ae ee eet vale eds ; a r Cha Te ~ Cs os ae es oreee rete rere Tua) a asia a ba aakcy sf ogee ne a 7 =a ; f - : Ps i i : : i i a - 8 = i ee - i ee a bs 2 k5 = ou ¥ of : 7. k ‘ o a Ft a ] By a ; _ } a | AS 156 THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. went on in spite of his failure, than from the buoyant career of the successful. “Tt is all very well,” said he, “to tell me that a young man has distinguished himself by a brilliant first speech. He may go on, or he may be satisfied with his first triumph ; but show mea young man who has zoé suc- ceeded at first, but has gone on, and that young man will do better than most of those who succeeded at the first trial.” Hon. SAMUEL R_ LOWERY. We learn wisdom from failure much more than from success. We often discover what will do, by finding out what will not do ; and probably he who never made a mistake never | made a discovery. It was the failure in the attempt to make a sucking-pump act, when the working-bucket was more than thirty- three feet above the surface of the water to be raised, that led observant men to study | the law of atmospheric pressure, and opened a new field of research to the genius of Galileo, Torrecelli and Boyle. John Hunter used to remark that the art of surgery would not advance until professional men had the courage to publish their failures as well as their successes. Watt, the engineey, said of all things most wanted in mechanical 7 engineering was a history ol failures: “ We want,” he said, “a book of blots.” But if you fail once, go right ahead and don’t stop for trifles. In this connec- tion let us point to Hon. Samuel R. Lowery, whose perseverance and in- dustry are worthy of note. He was born December 9, 1530. His mother was a free woman, a Cherokee, and his father was a slave. He lost his I mother at the age of eight years. The young man tried to get learning by working at the Franklin College and studying privately under the Kev. Talbot Fanning. He ice of sixteen, and for began teaching four years had marked success. In 1849 he united with the Church of the Disciples and began preaching that faith. He married in 1858 and removed to Canada, returning to the States after three years and settling on a farm in Ohio. In 1863 he went to Nashville and preached to the free men and colored soldiers; then served as chaplain of the Ninth United States Heavy Artillery until the close of the war. After the war he began the study of law, and was admitted to the bar. In 1875 he removed to Hunts- ville, Ala., where he continued the practice of law, preaching until 1877, when he took up the culture of sill worms. He has re- ceived very little encouragement from his own city, but has, nevertheless, made a suc- cess of the enterprise.THE GUIDE’ TO SUCCESS. Thus he conquered success in spite of obstacles. The very greatest things—great thoughts, great discoveries, inventions—have usually been nurtured in hardshiy pondered over in established with difficulty. Spoiled by Great Ability. Bee him the stuff to have made if he had only, when the facility with which he composed. Men who feel their strength within them need not fear to encounter adverse opinions; they have far greater reason to fear undue praise and too friendly criticism. When Mendels- sohn was about to enter the orchestra at Birmingham on the first performance of his “Elijah,” he said, laughingly, to one of his friends and critics: ‘Stick your claws into me. Don’t tell me what you like, but what you don’t like!” It has been said, and truly, that i defeat that tries the victory. t is che general more than the Washington lost more battles than he gained; but he succeeded in th LC end. The Romans, in thei r most victorious cam- paigns, almost invariably began with defeats. Moreau used to be compared by his com- panions to a drum, which nobody hears of except it be beaten. Wellington’s military genius was per- fected by encounter with difficulties of ap- parently the most overwhelming character, but which only served to move his resolu- tion, and bring out more prominently his great qualities as a man and a general. So the skilful mariner obtains his best experi- ence amid storms and tempests, which train him to self-reliance, courage and the highest often sorrow, and at length thoven said of Rossini that he had in a good musician a boy, been well flogged; but that he had been spoiled by 157 our race of seamen, who are certainly not surpassed by any in the world. In this way your native ability is put to the test, is developed and grows with every new effort. But be sure you find out what you are fitted for, and, if you have a talent for any one thing, this points out your life work. This is what William A. Hazel, of St. Paul, Minn., did, of whom we will give you a sketch. Distanced All Competitors. In a competition with nine firms for designs for windows for a Catholic Church in Austin, Minn., he won over all competi- tors. The decision and the award for putting in the stained glass windows was made to a company in St. Paul against eight other firms. The award was made on the merits of the designs alone, as the cost of th he win- dows, $ 3,000, vas specified. Mr. Hazel’s designs won, and the salient feature of his success is that all his competitors were white men, he being an Afro-American and South- ern born. r. Hazel, however, is an acknowledged artist in his line of business as an architect decorator and designer, and this success is not the first that has rewarded his skill and conception as an artist. Heis aman abcut forty years old, handsome, though quite dark, intelligent and accomplished in manner and well-educated. He was born in Wilmington, N. C. He received a public school education at Cam- bridge, Mass., and at the age of seventeen entered the service of a Boston architect as office boy. He took a liking to the work and soon acquired considerable knowledge of architectural draughtsmanship. His work discipline ; and we probably owe to rough oO was continued with leading architects in New York city, and on returning to Boston he seas and wintry nights the best training of | took up the study of decorative art. filling 4 F| | j ; : e ; i | ¥ . ee “ a 1 COLD ALA Lo donne Be ne ee Rep) re o = " FHT ‘ ; ss he . a. ee ee One ee La ee eee Tf . a ee Sap a a ye eee we an be Te Pe hte oe Se ve * ea A a rt _ a ee enea O04 eae Sree a oe Smell a bras re nt ok ald Lae Faia LEE ISITE ELIT SIN = J oi i { of 4 | £ i ks Pe ‘ = . eS 8 oy J€ aa. ee | i. ee rt u by ; . a | s : i) » Es 158 THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. the position of designer of stained glass de- corations with a Boston concern. Mr. Hazel has written considerable upon the subject of decorative art, having read papers before the Minneapolis Society of Fine Arts Class in Architecture at the State University, and before the Minnesota Chap- ter of the American Institute of Architects. Another name deserves mention as an il- lustration of cultivating one’s natural ability. Granville T. Woods was born in Columbus, Ohio, April 23, 1856. Atan early age he learned the machinist and blacksmith trades. He secured employment on a Western rail- road, and, having a great deal of leisure, took up the study of electricity. He re- ceived two years’ special training in electrical and mechanical engineering. He is the in- ventor of the “Induction Telegraph,” a system for communicating to and from mov- ing trains. Energy of Will. This invention cost him much study, and any man of less determination and_persist- ency would have failed. He had a strong will, and was bound to succeed, and it should never be forgotten that energy of will—self- originating force is the soul of every great character. Where it is, there is life; where it is not, there is faintness, helplessness and despondency. “The strong man and the waterfall,” says the proverb, “channel their own path.” The energetic leader of noble spirit not only wins a way for himself, but car- ries others with him. His every act has a personal significance, indicating vigor, inde- pendence and self-reliance, and unconsciously commands respect, admiration and homage. Such intrepidity of character characterized Luther, Cromwell, Washington, Henry Clay, Andrew Jackson, Pitt, Wellington, Frederick Douglass and all great leaders of men. “Tam convinced,” said Mr. Gladstone, describing the qualities of Lord Palmerston ‘1 the House of Commons, shortly after his death_——‘I am convinced that it was the force of will, a sense of duty, and a deter- mination not to give in, that enabled him to make himself a model for all of us who yet remain and follow him, with feeble and un- equal steps, in the discharge of our duties; ‘t was that force of will that in point of fact did not so much struggle against the infiirmi- ties of old age, but actually repelled them and kept them at a distance.” A Successful Attorney. Many successful Afro-Americans might be mentioned to prove the truth of the fore- going statements. One is Edward H. Morris, of Chicago. He was born in Kentucky in 1860, and graduated from St. Patrick’s Col- lege, Chicago, in 1878. In June, 1879, he was admitted to the Illinois bar, and to che United States Supreme Court in October, 1885. In 1891 he was elected to the Illinois Legislature, and in 1892 was appointed Attorney for South Chicago. His progress has been steady and con- stantly upward. In 1894 he was appointed Assistant District Attorney for Cook County, Ill. He is a prominent Odd Fellow, and was a Deputy Grand Master for two terms. Another example is found in Mr. Charles Winter Wood, elocutionist, tragedian and Greek scholar. He was a bootblack on the streets of Chicago, when his dramatic ability attracted the attention of Justice Blume. Funds were secured to defray his expenses, and he was sent to Beloit College, Wis., where he has won signal honors. He grad- uated in 1895 at the head of his class. He won the first prize in the Inter-Collegiate oratorical contest at Appleton, Wis., March 15, 1895, outranking all competitors.THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS 459 SELF=DENIAL. T is wonderful how this one thought that things cannot be saved, that they must give themselves pe —" 7 Ba ROE A ad Pe ee Se er the helmet in his hand; but fooxing round. and seeing all the horsemen bending their up, runs through Would you have a suc- It will cost you care and anxiety, labor and capital; you cannot save yourself. Would you be a scholar? It will cost you the closest study and applica- tion, and, perhaps, many a headache and weary hour. Would you be a fine piano It will cost you unremitting prac- tice and steady perseverance ; and even then, heads, and fixing their eyes upon the water he returned it without drinking. However. he praised the people that offered it, and said: “If TI alone drink, these good men will be dispirited.” everything. cessful business ? The cavalry, who were wit- nesses to this act of temperance and mag- nanimity, cried out, “ Let us march! We are neither weary nor thirsty, nor shall we player ? even think ourselves mortal, while under the EO a eT eae - perhaps, you will feel like telling people that | you never play. Would you be a steno- and able to catch the burning thoughts that flow from the lips of the | orator P grapher Or, would you be the orator hold- ing listening thousands spellbound? Your time, your effort, your earnestness of pur- pose alone can do it. ‘There must always be an outlay. ! ‘4 P| s i A 8 5 4 : | ‘| 3 7 There is no escaping the Ee ed cost. Sacrifice is the grand secret of success. “Neither Weary nor Thirsty.” When the army of Alexander the Great was marching against Darius, in crossing the deserts they often suffered more for want of water than by fatigue; many of the . es 7 ‘ cavalry were unable to hold out. While Henry T. WILLIAMs. they were upon the march some Macedon- ians had filled their bottles at a river, and a PR ae conduct of sucha king.” Atthe same time they put spurs to their horses and dashed away with fresh courage. Says Atterbury: “A good man not only forbears those gratifications which are for- bidden by reason and religion, but even re- strains himself in unforbidden instances.” Teach self-denial, and make its practice pleasurable, and you create for the world:a destiny more sublime than ever issued from the brain of the wildest dreamer. were bringing the water upon mules. These | people, seeing Alexander greatly distressed with thirst (for it was in the heat of the day), immediately filled a helmet with water, and presented it to him. el He asked them to whom they were carry- inv it, and they said: “Our sons; but if our prince does but live, we shall get other chil- dren if we lose them.” Upon this he took nd tla ‘ catennpapmeamrercie Bs" . PMc sa Ck ee Pre 5 vs aha TT ee eee mada la Lotsa aloe aval Fe ia seas Pmae cs nln ns cit ted ak Sf teal gS bd GONG ET Ye OSE TE TAs eet AL be I 4 = : : . i i eS a i 5 of a : . bs Re Mestad OKI SS S 160 THE GUIDE In what other way than by rigid self- denial and hard work could Richard. BD. Harrison ever have achieved his fame? He is, without doubt, the greatest Afro-American dramatic reader living. He was born in London, in the province of Ontario, Canada, in September, 1864, and there went to school antil he was seventeen years old. At that time he, with his parents, moved to Detroit, Mich., and soon after he began the study of elocution under Mrs. Mollie Lambert, of the Detroit a School. years’ study under Mrs. Lambert, he took After several up his dramatic work under Prof. Edward Weitzel. A Well-Known Musician. With equal force is self-denying culture and severe training seen in the enviabl record made by one of our rac , Mr. Henry T. Williams, the celebrs ee composer of music and band instructor. He has achieved great success as a performer on the violin, double bass and the cornet. His first great triumph was at the Coliseum in Boston, when he attracted much notice by the successful rendition of a very difficult movement on the double bass. Mr. Williams was born in Boston, August 13, 1813, and began the study of the violin at the early age of seven. His great success is almost entirely due to his own persever- ance and native ability. As a composer his works are full of soothing melody, and these were often rendered by the band of the cele- brated P. S. Gilmore. You see what can be done by rigid self- denial and sacrifice. Says Robert Hall “The opportunities of making great sacri- fices for the good of mankind are of rare occurrence. and he who remains inactive till TO SUCCESS. power, it is in his power to confer signal benefits of yield important services is in imminent danger of incurring the doom of the slothful servant. It is the preference of duty to inclination in the ordinary course of life, it is the practice of self-denial in a thousand little instances, which forms the truest test of character, and secures the honor and the reward of those who live not to themselves.” It is the same story always ; only by self- denying labor and close application have those immortal men risen to honor and who have blessed their race, and are remembered for achievements both good and creat. Says Sir Walter Scott: “ There never did and never will exist anything per- manently noble and excellent in a charactet which was a stranger to the exercise of reso- lute self-denial.” How to Double Pleasures. But if there were no such consideration as the good effect which self-denial has upon the sense of other men towards us, it is of all qualities the most desirable for the agree- able disposition in which it places our own minds. I cannot tell what better to say of it than that it is the very contrary of arnbi- tion ; and that modesty allays all those pas- sions and inquietudes to which that vice exposes US. He that is reason and choice, and not resigned from moderate in his wishes, from sourness, distate or disappointment, doubles all the pleasures of his life. The air, the season, a sunshiny day, or a fair prospect. und that which he enjoys in common with all the world (by are instances of happiness ; his exemption from the enchantments by which all the world are bewitched), affords him uncommon benefits.THE GUIDE TO SUCCESS. REV. JOHN JASPER. Lessons from the Life of the Famous ee HE eminent preacher and lecturer, ev. jonn jasper,. died at his residence, in Richmond, Va., March 30th, 1901. His funeral took place Thursday, April4th. The body laid in state several days and was viewed by thousands. From the moment the remains were brought from his late residence to Zion church, of which he was the venerated and loved pastor, almost an army assembled to pay tribute to his worth. At 9 o’clock in the morning it was impossible to get even standing room in the church, and long be- fore the funeral services began the sexton found it necessary to lock the doors. All that could possibly be accommodated within the church were there; the steps on both sides leading to the private entrances to the church were packed with people, while it was next to an impossibility to make way through the concourse of people who blocked every approach to the church for fully half a square. Divine—A Bright Example to His Race. Behind the reading desk, and seated about the platform were a number of men whose lives have been identified with the advancement of the negro. ‘The services were conducted by J. H. Adams and began at 11 A. M. with a congregational hymn, and then the choir sung ‘Tossed and Driven.” While this was being sung the dead man’s family entered the church, his wife and three children, and seated them- selves in the family pew. Grand Chorus. An elaborate programme had been pre- pared, but it was not strictly adhered to. At the conclusion of the hymn by the choir, some one in the congregation in a rich bari- tone, broke into a chant, the burden of which seemed to be: “Remember whom our souls have bought, And follow Christ as Jasper taught. ” Not asoul inthe church but who helped to swell that chorus, and while never for eG ee Nad an instant was the dignity of the occasion lost sight of, the bodies of most of those The services were impressive and they | present rocked toand froin unison with the were characteristic. In front of the : rythmn of the music. ‘The burden of this rostrum from which the dead minister had | | impromptu hymn was borne by the one been wont to send forth his homely wis- with whom it originated, and the congte- dom, rested the casket that contained all of | gation joined almost as a unit in voicing him that was of the earth. ‘The sombre, | the chorus, while here and there, those black, cloth-covered casket, was almost | whose voices, unfitted by age Ls melody Beveloned in a profusion of flowers. On | chanted in solemn requiem, ‘‘ Ah Lord, the oneside stood a veritable floral creation: Amen.” | “The Gates Ajar.” On the other a broken This was followed by the readingof a column and at the head of the casket was | number of letters and telegrams of con- placed a lyre mutely significant of the voice dolence from almost every part of the stilled forever. country. Laymen and clergy went on L Impressive Services. : os oo . oe es a at . : Sale ie Pe a ‘ a ~ P| ni ry y 4 | é , 7 & o a) | 5 | 5 4 a ; 4 : ee a pe Aeerr ei lad CHT sO HE Do ee seo Teele er Re rey, 2 Seuaaiahineda I ed ee eR NN TS AL a Lach Lae la Va ‘me INFN PTOI TAN EOD ERC I i = © i ee | & 4 ‘ o a) a ae : ae a 3 BY Sk WARS eT ag eee ade Pes REM sSaaibeaaal aA a s 162 THE GUIDE record as attesting the sterling worth of the dead minister of Christ, and this portion of the ceremonies was concluded by the read- ing of a pathetic letter from his widow. It told of the loved pastor’s private life, his home relations, and when the reading was concluded there was scarcely a dry eye in the building. The Rev. A. S. Thomas, of the Sharon Baptist church, was the orator of the oc- casion and his intimacy with John Jasper during his life eminently qualified him for the delivery of a eulogy that went straight | to the hearts of all present. A Man of Faith. : He took his text from the 25th chapter | of Genesis, fourth to seventh verse. He | ‘with God in open vision and through pointed out that in every age known to TO SUCCESS. where science and the Bible failed tx agree. Philosophers say the sun is stationary ; God says the sun moves. The mighty God even the Lord hath spoken and called the earth from the rising of the sun unto the going down thereof. Rev. A. S. Thomas paid the following tribute to Mr. Jasper : “ Rey. John Jasper may be justly classed among the patriots and prophets. He was Oriental somewhat in his manner bearing and trend of thought. He believed in serving God on patriarchial and prophetic order. Took God at His Word. “In those days men walked and talked Christianity the Church had had some re- | sanctified imagination, which was accord- nowned leaders; true representatives of | ing to the, thus saith the Lord. Brother Christ, who lived and preached the truth. Jasper was a man who took God at his John Jasper, he said, was one of these, and | word. He believed all that God said and it was not too much to say of him that he | believed it to be true and immutable. should rank with the patriarchs and the | He never was known at any time to ask prophets. His faith, he declared, was with- | God the second time, What sayest thou, out limit. He took God at His word, and ‘Master? He said that God understood whatever in Scripture might seem obscure | himself, and knew His business, and that to others, to this humble follower of Christ | which was obscure, God would make it His word was supreme. He said so, and it | plain at His own appointed time. was so. He went over the life of the great “He believed in personal acquaintance colored divine who for years had practically stood at the front of his race. He likened | know God: in regeneration. That they him unto Moses, and declared that Jasper | should seek the Lord and call upon His had been given the mission of answering | name, and by faith and acceptance make the infidel. | friends with God and become heirs to with God and preached that men should John Jasper, he said, stood foremost as a preacher in the days of slavery, and there eternal life through the plan of salvation, given to the world by Jesus Christ, our forty and fifty years ago. He preached | ‘For 61 years, Bro. Jasper was in battle about the rotation of the sun 253 times, | on his pilgrimage. He fought his way the speakersaid. His position on thesub- | through on the word of God only. He ject of the sun, he declared, was founded | was born July 4th, 1812 served in on the word of God. He relied on Him | the army of sin and satan 28 years. In were those present who heard him preach | Redeemer.THE GUIDE 1840 Captain Jesus passed by on His white | horse and Jasper joined in under His flag and has been an untiring and faithful soldier ever since. God told him then that no man should exceed him jn his day. That He would make him a Moses to this people, and that he should answer the in- fidel. He preached 21 years louger than Moses. “As for Jonah, Joel, Amos, and some others, they must be called and sent again before they can overtake Jasper in dura- tion of his Jasper stood foremost as a preacher in the | days of slavery with his race. Some are present, who heard him preach 4o and 50 years ago. His Position on the Sun. ‘When Science and the Bible failed to agree, Jasper simply held on to the word of God. Philosophers said the sun is stationary, God says the sun moves. ‘The Almighty God, even the Lord hath spoken and called the earth from the rising of the sun unto the going down thereof. Jasper claimed that God made the sun, | ministerial career. John | head, Brother | capacity. TO SUCCESS. 168 months to tell the whole story. But I shall, however, endeavor to give a few out- lines of my impressions of the Rey. John Jasper. ‘“Imet him the first time in my life in April 1892, when being in Richmond and having heard of him all my life, I availed myself of the privilege of calling upon him in his humble, but pleasant home on St. James street. I need not say that this had been one of the cherished desires of my life— that of beholding the face of him whose name I had known from my earliest boyhood, even in the states of Mississippi, Tennessee and Arkansas. Noble Features. ‘ On meeting him, I was first impressed by his looks, his appearance. I must con- fess that I did not see the face that had be- come in my mind’s eye the picture of the often heard of Rey. John Jasper, but rather I beheld the face of royal, masterly, honest intellectual bearing, a broad, towering fore- indicative of mental and brain “The very brow of his eye bespoke true moon and stars ; that He holds the destiny Q of nations in His hands; tl every wind, thunders in every storm; that sreatness. His nose, not of the proverbial lat He is the | Negro flatness, but large, well proportioned universal benefactor; that He breathes in arch-like, tapering , Roman-like somewhat, 7 ~ _ ” Tt ¥ 2 a ee oe aieies ot ee ee He rides upon the wings of the wind, and that the clouds are His chariots. Hence Ais conclusion was simply this : God knows more about the sun than philosophers do, and here he rested his case.” Rev. W. F. Graham thus speaks of Mr. Jasper, his peculiar characterstics and the which impressed me that he was a man of strength, courage, conviction and invinc- ible aggressiveness. And then as I looked upon those thin-cut lips and face covered with partially gray whiskers, somehow or other, there came to my mind the picture of an old patriarch, and old forefather of grand work he accomplished : “Of that wonderful man in personal contact, conversation, in preaching, in the early Bible days, called of God to doa mighty work. ; ‘‘How could I be impressed otherwise? For when he arose to speak with me did I . a ~ ~ . . ee < eae lil exhortation were I to write in detail of | not behold in his tall, symmetrical, soldier how I had been impressed for these nine | like form, even to the build of his feet, a years, truly, it would take me weeks and ! body in keeping with the facial expression? cd 4 & a 5 5 .' | ‘A ms Hy : 4 | mr = i Fi 4 | » sn a a inet - ‘ eSrr ad toa sacral abcess ot niet si2) Ce ies yi pe oe Be Sh e a - a = =o ae ee = - s w é i 2 i; | ed ' i : s : bg : f . fi - - of | = A ae — : a bs 7 . , 164 THE GUIDE So that his very looks, his bearing and carriage impressed me almost as mevet man impressed me before. His Appearance as a Citizen. “T never saw him pass on the streets without stopping to watch the stately, in- dependent strides of that beautifully built figure. Ihave seen others of both races do | Memor the same. How grand a figure was that erand old man entering and walking down the aisles of his church, hat in hand, shoulders erect, measured and gentle step ! “But my impressions deepened, fixed | He me TO SUCCESS. “Tt did seem to me sometimes that Rev. Jasper came into the world with a Bible in his heart, head and tongue. In detail, he could recount step by step the history of Richmond, the churches and the Baptists of Virginia from as far back as sixty years. He could give the history of the city reach- ing back seventy years. A most wonderful y had hey’ A Great Reasoner. “Tf ever there lived in this world an hon est man father Jasper was one. He was earnest in friendship and in esteem for you. ant all he taught as to the Bible or themselves indelibly as Istudied his anything else; falling off of unfaithful thought. Here we find the true man, the man more nearly after the order of his Maker. From the first to the last, in all my conversations, in all the discourses I have heard him make, Ih ave studied closely the subjects that concerned Rev. Jaspet’s thinking powers. He delighted in dealing with the profound theological questions. He thought and discoursed of them in a lofty and intelligent manner ; and then his great mind evinced its superiority in the company itkept. Hewasat home with the great Bible characters, many of the great church fathers, commentators, theological writers and some of the leading astronomers of that special school of thought. He im- pressed me as a man of great thought. “He not only had the capacity for pro- ducing great thought; he was a great reasoner—he could handle in a skillful and logical way the productions of his thinking powers without having studied logic in the schools, he seems by nature to have under- stood to perfection the different styles of reasoning. And as for his memory, there was no end to it; it seemed to me. All that he ever read, seen, heard of or thought of was his in memory. | friends, actions of Baptist associations, con- | ventions or councils could never turn Brother Jasper from what he regarded as right and just. Ladmired that in him. He was sensitive, all great menare. He forever | remembered those brethren who disre- garded the rights of his church and him- self as a gospel minister. ‘Jasper loved the truth, he hated lies; he therefore always continued strong and firm in his attachment to the man who im- pressed him asa truthful man, but if Jasper applied the scrutinizing power of reasoning | to any man, be he high or low, and found him wanting in veracity from that time on, that man was a weak character in Brothet Jasper’s judgment. A lie plowed and rumpled his great nature. He could never forget a maker of a lie, especially when that lie interfered with Brother Jasper’s work. “He was plain, unvarnished and simple 'in his greatness. There was never an effort at bombast, trickery and sophistry ; what he was he was,—just God’s plain Rey. John Jasper, sent to warn the world | of the impending dangers of the judgment day.”HEROISM == C OLORED SOLDIERS in OUR. WAR, AWwITE.. SPAIN N our War with Spain the colore soldiers showed great bravery an acquitted their conduct that they possess all th elements of true courage and heroism. The two colored cavalry regiments, the Ninth and Tenth Regulars, were among o the most popular soldiers in Cub a. were quiet, well-mannered, cheerful fellows these colored troopers, and far sooner that any of the other Cuban veterans they recov- ered their spirits and vitality after the cam- paign. meet on the road a group of these soldiers jogging along in lively conversation, their white teeth gleaming .in smiles. As to their abilities in battle but ome opinion | was expressed, and almost invariably in the same words: Brave Fighters. “ Those colored chaps fought like devils.” Many are the stories of their prowess, told | by the men of the other regiments. A. com- pany of the Tenth went into action singing. Two men of another company enlivened their comrades during a very trying halt under fire by executing a double-flop dance, to which the whole company began presently to clap out the time ; their officers, mean- while, being wisely blind and deaf to these rather unusual tactics. The Rough Riders were enthusiastic over the Ninth Regiment. When Roosevelt's men had made their themselges with distin- guished honor, They proved” by In an encampment made up chiefly of the sick and half sick, it was inspiring to d | rush up San Juan Hill they found themselves d | in a very bad position, pressed by a superior force of the enemy on both flanks and in front. It is generally admitted that they e | could not have held their position but for the splendid charge of the colored men to their support. After the worst of the fight- ing was over, a Rough Rider, finding himself They | near one of the colored troopers, walked up , | and grasped his hand, saying : 1 “We've got you fellows to thank for setting us out of a bad hole.” “Dat’s all right, boss,” said the soldier, with a broad grin. ‘Dat’s all right. It's all in de fam’ly. We call ouahselves de Colored Rough Riders.” Always Cheerful and Ready. ‘Tt was a matter of considerable doubt,” an officer of the regular infantry says, ‘whether the colored troops would acquit themselves well. We of the army knew them to be sood Indian fighters, but this Cuban business was no more like Indian fighting than a game of marbles is like | billiards. Probably. it was because I am from the South that I didn’t think much of the colored regiments, but having seen those | fellows in action I’ve changed my mind completely. They were the best, the readiest, the most cheerful, and, I believe, the dead- liest fighters in the war. “In the charge up the hill a volunteer who had got separated from his company, who looked pretty badly rattled, got caught in the rush and carried along. A big fellow 169 S20 oe ee Pe Re RI F “ . . | | | 4 F 4 ‘ ; f i i P| 4 | 4 | | A | PS ON Ct ee Re ee a ee eeee ret Tal eal icanicl al ee ae oa Far? i Fer ae ne oe RRA PUAN PLO ot, tae dose ack aa palin = : ee [ 7 a o - Ps i Fe htedeas Pease 166 HEROISM OF THE COLORED SOLDIERS. behind him kept spurring him on and trying to encourage him, but the man was badly rattled and tried to get away. That settled him with the troopers, who began to guy him, asking his name and address for pur- poses of identification, and assuring him that he would be readily distinguished among the other dead on account of his color. Presently a Mauser bullet clipped the sleeve of the man next to him. The trooper turned to the volunteer : “<«Honey, dat bullet was a-callin’ youah name, shuah,’ he said. No Shrinking Under Fire. “ They tell me that the volunteer finally plucked up his spirits and fought so well M that the negroes assured him that in th next battle he’d be an honor to any regi- ment. g One thing I noticed about the negro troopers was that they evinced less inclina- tion to duck when the bullets whistled over them than the other soldiers showed. A sergeant explained it to me this way : «<< Wren de bullet go along it say, “ Pi-yi- yi! Pi-yi-yi!”’ dat. But de shrapnel, dat’s different. Dat say, ““Oo-00 00-00 ; I want yeh, I want yeh, Nobody ain’ goin’ to min’ I want yeh, mah honey!’ Dat’s wat makes a man’s head kindah shrink like between his shouldahs.’ ‘“‘ However, I didn’t see any shrinking that could be identified as such among those men. There wasn’t an instant during the fighting that they didn’t look as if they were in the very place of all places on earth where they most wished to be.” At Camp Montauk the colored men as- siduously cultivated the gentle arts of peace. Every night they sat outdoors and _ sang. The Ninth men staked out a baseball dia- mond on the flat near the Life-saving Station and played a most tumultuous game of ball, which would have resulted more definitely ‘f in the third inning the runs hadn’t piled up so high that the scorer collapsed with exhaustion and fell asleep. As no two of the players agreed on the score, the game was declared ‘no contest.” The Tenth Cavalryman who had his guitar with him was the centre of a large audience every afternoon, and he was hustling around trying to pursuade some of the banjo and mandolin players to beg or borrow instru- ments which could be sent to them, so that he could get up a string orchestra. Certain sportsmen of the Ninth organized cross- country hunts after the frog, which abounds g, in the marshes. They stalked him to his lair, and then swathed him with the unpoetic but substantial club, whereupon he croaked his last croak and rendered up his muscular legs to make a dainty feast. Good Hunters. Two hunters who beat along the little stream flowing back of the Signal Corps bagged no less than forty-seven batrachians, not counting six toads which they killed by mistake. Onthe whole, the colored soldiers got more out of camp life than any one else in the place. A volunteer whose regiment was brigaded with the Twenty-fourth (colored) Infantry through the Cuban campaign said, that “they were better Christians than the white men.’’ ‘“ We had a lot of trouble about firewood It was hard to find, and it often had to be carried two miles to on the island,”’ said he. our quarters. Gathering it was a heavy job for our fellows, for most of them were pretty The fellows in the white regiment in our command were weak on account of the fever. a little better off than we were—they were regulars, you know—and managed to haveHEROISM OF THE fires pretty regularly. rations in our stomachs all the time. «Say old man,’ I heard said to them, ‘let’s cook a little stuff on your fire when you're through with it ; won’t you please?’ ““And what do you think they’d say ? ““Aw, go hang,’ one of ’em said to me. ‘We ain’t got enough for ourselves.’ Men with Big Hearts. “It was a good deal to ask of a man, I'll admit. Why, I’ve seen half a dozen sick men wait around a fire until the men who owned it were through, and then make a rush for the embers, like seven dogs after one bone. But the colored men were different ; they had bigger hearts. They stood the campaign in great shape, you know, and it wasn’t much for them to gather firewood. They'd build a fire six feet long, and they never crowded a poor weak man out if he wanted to use it. ““«“ Gimme a chance at your fire?’ the fel- lows would ask them. “? the man I was with A regular who came into close contact began. with the Ninth Cavalry (colored) said: “<« All right, boys, don’t get scared; it’s 4 P| A i F a | ¥ ; , . | am a Peta alien De RE tie il = es ee ee A ia keg IP ey es Ce ee a Saar Ny ne SES eee eeieee 7 ot . A it OE " Pay Sa eee eee er ny acuity Jee aR PX Dc NLP 5 Ss ar _ — - . a8 - 3 2 = oe 4 - : i ee ce = eee : ; Dis = 4 a 3 of oh | M cS Ry bi jE AMAR A ORNS LIEN Bia tt t all right. We thought yo might want a niggah er two, an’ we come up Pescen “< bushes and wriggle his body through the | firing in the distance our captain remarked, grass, his eye fixed on some tree or other. that some one ahead was doing good work. He would spot a sharpshooter half concealed The firing became so heavy and regular that our officers, without orders, decided to move | forward and reconnoitre. | up there in the branches, and creeping up would pop a bullet at him. The aim was, in every case so far as we were able to learn, “When we got to where we could see astonishingly accurate. Down from out the | what was going on, we found that the Rough tree would tumble the Spaniard, and the ' Riders had marched down a sort of a cafion * " et: a Se os oo 4 ea ee LN a ee we ee a ee , a 8 . ee ee al Tees ee Be OLD pd mi r i 4 cs 4 i r = oe e 54 a S a A 4 4 a 4 4 | a s j E A 4 | PI Bs ‘ , Re Aewee rT ade Riek Re OL ioe De eee aay el ocala) ba CER LAI hai ak io Dad Eee neg gq og 2s | 4 a & i ae ie t : y B ag at ee a ee es . F Ee Relea eh 170 between the mountains, The Spaniards had men posted at the entrance, and as soon as the Rough Riders had gone in had about closed up the rear, and were firing upon the Rough Riders from both the front and the rear. Immediately the Spaniards in the rear received a volley from our men of the Tenth Cavalry without command. The Spaniards were afraid we were going to flank them, and rushed out of ambush, in front of the Rough Riders, throwing up their hands and shouting, ‘Don’t shoot ; we are Cubans.’ Fighting Under Great Difficulties. “The Rough Riders thus let them escape, and gave them a chance to take a> better position ahead. During all this time the men were all in tall grass, and could not see even each other, and I fear the Rough Riders in the rear shot many of their men in front, mistaking them for Spanish soldiers. By this time the Tenth Cavalry had fully taken in the situation, and, adopting the method employed in fighting Indians, were able to turn the tide of battle and repulse the Spaniards. «TJ was in the fight of July Ist, and it was in that fight that I received my wound. We were under fire in that fight about forty-eight hours, and were without food and with but little water. We had been cut off from our pack train, as the Spanish sharpshooters shot our mules as soon as they came any where near the lines, and it was impossible to move supplies. Very soon after the firing began pur colonel was killed and the most of our other officers were killed or wounded, so that the greater part of that desperate battle was fought by some of the Ninth and Tenth Cavalry without officers ; or, at least, if there were any Officers around, ‘we neither saw them nor heard their commands. The last command I heard our captain give was; HEROISM OF THE COLORED SOLDIERS. ‘Boys, when you hear me whistle, lie flat down on the ground “Whether he ever whistled or not I do The next move we made wa* 1 a terrific yell, we charged up t ) . not know. when, witl the Spanish trenches and bayoneted and clubbed them out of their places in a jiffy. Some of the men of our regiment say that the last command they heard was ‘Fortie rear!’ But this command they utterly dis- regarded and charged to the front until the and the Spaniards, those not day was won, dead in the trenches, fled back to the city. Raising the Stars and Stripes. « At San Juan I had the pleasure to take some of those blockhouses you hear so much about, and I had the privilege of haul- ing down the Spanish flag and planting the Stars and Stripes in its place. The sides of the blockhouse gave absolutely no place for a foothold or to catch with the hands. One member of the Seventy-first New York placed his old Springfield rifle on the ground, and, by placing my foot on the hammer, I climbed upon it and was pushed up on the After I had hauled down the Spanish flag and was about stock to the roof of the house. to plant the Stars and Stripes, a bullet came whizzing in my direction. It cut a hole through my hat, burning my head slightly. That’s what I call a close shave. “In the charge before San Juan my twin brother, who was fighting at my side, was wounded, and I could stop only long enough to drag him off the firing line. I returned to the fight, and in a few minutes a shell burst directly among us, and a portion of it broke two of my ribs. “Our men didn’t care at all about the small shot, but they feared the shells from the large Spanish guns, and there was often a lively struggle among us over the proprHEROISM OF THE COLORED SOLDIERS. etorship of a particular tree to which sev- 171 withstanding this, with a terrific yell we rushed up to the enemy’s works, and you know the result. eral of us would flee at once for refuge. We vere greatly worried by the sharpshooters, x n " Beate a , od a ee Se er aN Men who saw him say that when this official saw us make the charge he turned his back upon us and wept.” n going toward the front I noticed at one point that several of our men and officers were shot, and that no one seemed able to One of the men, in answering a question locate the marksman. as to the equipment of the Spaniards and Americans, spoke of the difference between Springfield, Krag-Jorgensen, and Mauser rifles, and incidentally gave a bit of interest- Happening to look | ing fact. under it I spied a Spanish sharpshooter. He I concluded that I should not go around that way, so I turned in another direction. As I went near an old tree I noticed that the dirt had been washed from around its roots. “We were near the Seventy-first New York,” he said, “who were at a great dis- advantage, owing to the fact that they were fighting with the old Springfield rifle— old smoke guns,’ we call them. Every time they fire a volley the Spaniards, by the Brought Down a Spaniard. volume of smoke from their guns, could Willis, of the it was who had been picking off our men, I slipped up behind him and whacked him on the neck, breaking it. Our men were no longer molested in that locality.”’ Ninth Cavalry, told of his experience in picking off a sharpshooter who was hidden in a cocoanut tree. easily locate the American shooters. And how the Mauser bullets were flying and doing execution among the members of the seventy-first ! However, we took advantage of this, and under cover of the smoke from these old smoke guns, “They had been getting our officers in great shape,”’ he said, ““and we couldn’t for the lif A ; + * t eI m1 I rf : 4 Pr j ; Y s L ? . ay . . K 4 | ef i rs of 4 E | P | . j 4 & a4 : 4 ie 3 1e life of us locate a man or men who were upon which the doing it. Finally a bullet struck one of my | Spaniards had concentrated their fire, we comrades near me. I decided that it was about time to look after that sharpshooter, so I kept a sharp lookout and all at once I saw the part of a head peeping out from behind a bunch of cocoanuts. were able, without attracting much attention, to creep almost upon the Spanish works before drawing their fire.’ I drew a bead The Colored Soldier. on it and instantly a Spaniard tumbled out One of our poets has paid a slowing of that tree. As a memento of the occasion tribute to the colored troops who fought so I hold in my hand a watch with an iron case bravely in Cuba. Here it is : and a brass chain, which I took from the e%- ee eS ae ee ad ee ae 4 bad ai . E used to think the colored man didn’t count c ; c ayed SIC aVOC among our man who had played such ha g pa peat a men. Light-fingered in the melon patch and chicken yard, and such ; - é {uch mixed in point of morals and absurd in point said: “A foreign officer, standing near our | ¥ P - ; of dress, position when we started out to make.that The butt of droll cartoonists and the target of the charge, was heard to say, ‘ Men, for heaven’s William H. Brown, of the Tenth Cavalry, Poa e nee press ; : i , r . | But we’ve got to reconstruct our views on color, 4 Sake don’t go up that hill. It will be pace nes ? i: more or less, impossible for human beings to take that Mow! wenow. about: the aeatnor josition. You can’t stand the fire.’ Not- La Quasina. ep) aeed ie Ra SL Te PP ale al: eee ae Fra es Tre aad ek acne) heals er Hy ast SN na te ad LET hal OS la BD ay (cha te sieaeenesinenveieniacninernibienain cits Pe oe . 5 & Cee a 5 < é- Z , a tia Os Fees ye ay toe inca) alent Fe A aA NP ah 9 Le a ean to Khe Ca ae ae Cree Rea a ats See a eI aloe eee Ete SR enter Sera RRA ae : PATON DIA Ste Pee EN Te a EOE : eT Pas ie E : c Ce eee Pe ee ere ee ig cease a AC Ene a i. Pe easkagh aa ak cease err Plea ee, MHS PANN alae Ls ada ha acaiald Se 33 RULES OF ETIQ UBLTE ‘avite the stranger to dinner, and in that case it is well to ask some of your friends to ing him a further meet him, as this is giv introduction to society. Where this is 1m- practicable, it may still be possible to show him some courtesy, such as inviting him to accompany you to the opera, or to a gallery, or aconcert—anything choice or interesting 5 in which case you will of course secure tickets beforehand for his acceptance. Should a person reqtiest you to give him a letter of introduction, and you do not feel that you would be justified in giving it, by all means refuse it. You can do so with kindness and firmness. Nothing should change your decision. As a tule a gentle man should not give another gentleman a letter of introduction to a lady. ‘There may be circumstances in which a departure from this rule is necessary. Guard Your Own Family. There is also a view of this matter which comes neater home. ‘The family of every man should be well guarded, and he should be especially careful in introducing strangers. You ought to have the utmost confidence in every individual brought within the sacred precincts of the household circle, for, other- wise, you may be placing the morals of your family in jeopardy, and great injury may be the result. There are certain forms of iatroduction which should always be observed, and will be attended to by every person who thoroughly understands the spirit and rules of etiquette. You should introduce a gentleman to a lady, an inferior to a superior, an ordinary person toa distinguished one, and a young man to an oldone. Youshould be very careful to speak the names distinctly. If either person fails to understand the name of the other, he may ask it. When introducing a gentleman toa lady, the party making the presentation will FOR ALL OCCASIONS. say, bowing to each as the uame is spoken, “Miss Belmont, allow me to introduce (or pre- sent) to you my friend, Mr. Taylor: Mr. Tay lor, Miss Belmont.’ A young lady may be introduced to a very old gentleman ; beauty thus paying a tribute to age. Forms To Be Observed. In presenting a company of several to one person, you should mention the name of the single person only once, but call the name of each of the others distinctly, bowing to each as his or her name is mentioned. Thus. “Mr. Anderson, allow me to introduce Mr. Barry, Mr. Phillips, Mr. Hathaway, Mr. Welch, Mr. Dean.” Always mention the name in introducing members of your family. Say, “ My father, Mr. Simpson,” “My daughter, Miss Simp- son,” or ‘Miss Ellen Simpson.” Your wife should be introduced simply as “Mrs, Simp- son.” In introducing persons with titles, the ti- tle should always be distinctly mentioned. Thus, you should say, in presenting a cler- eyman to a Senator of the United States, “Senator Vance, allow me to introduce to you my friend, the Reverend Doctor (if he is a Doctor of Divinity) Morton. Dr. Morton ss the rector of St. Andrews Church, Wast ington.” ‘Then turning to Dr. Morton, you should say, “Senator Vance represents the State of North Carolina in the Senate of the United States.’ Upon introducing stran- gers, it is well to add some pleasant remarks, which will serve to put them at their ease and start the conversation between them. It is proper upon being introduced to a person, to say, “I am happy to meet you, Mr. “3 or “I am glad to make your acquaintance.” If a lady, or a person in a superior position, wishes to know a gentleman or an inferior, you have a right to infer that the latter will not decline the honor.The custom of shaking hands upon being introduced is the rule in this country. It is a matter uf taste among gentlemen. If a hand is cffered, it is rude to reject it. It should be accepted cordially. Asa general thing, however, introductions should be ac- knowledged byabow. A gentleman should always lift his hat in acknowledgment of an introduction to another gentleman, or toa sady on the street. A single lady should never give her hand to a gentleman in such a case; a married lady may do so without impropriety. Casual Meetings. Persons meeting at the houses of friends when making morning calls need not be in- troduced to each other, and certainly should not be, unless it is known that such intro- ductions will be mutually agreeable. Nor should persons who have accidentally met in this manner, without being intro- duced, bow or in any way express recogni- tion should they afterwards meet. If, when walking in the street with a friend, you meet another, it is not necessary, in fact, it is improper, to introduce them. If, however, you meet a lady who evinces a desire to stop and speak, your friend should stop with you, and may be introduced ina formal manner; but such introduction does not warrant him in considering himself the lady’s acquaintance. Relations, such as a sister, a son, or a brother, may be introduced to friends casu- ally met, without ceremony or hesitation. At an evening party it is the host’s or hostess’s duty to make their guests acquainted vith each other. In England, this is dis- pensed with. Your name is announced as you enter the room. You bow to your host- ess and the company, and may then address any one in the company. In this country guests may properly introduce cach other. INTRODUCTIONS AND SALUTATIONS. 39 Persons unfriendly to each other, meeting at the house of a friend, must treat each other with perfect courtesy, and give no sign of their quarrel. A person making a visit to your house should be introduced to every caller. In making introductions, act in a gracett and easy manner. It will serve to set you friends at ease. A gentleman should always promptly of fer his services toa lady in need of them, whether he knows her or not. He should approach her, raise his hat, bow, and ask permission to assist her. A true lady will al- ways accept such a proffer with frank cour- tesy. Her acceptance does not give the nor oblige her to recognize him afterwards without a formal introduction. To ignore a person to whom you have been properly introduced is the height of ill- breeding. He may not be pleasant to you, but he has a claim upon your courtesy; and it is due to your own dignity that you should recognize it, and act towards him accord- ingly. Salutations. A well-bred person is at once known by his or her form of salutation. In meeting a friend upon the street, or in company, you should make your salutation quietly, but cordially and with dignity, always paying the highest respect to the person saluted. Always salute a lady by raising the hat and making a formal bow. In company, the head being uncovered, the bow alone is you: salutation; but it should, in either case, be a decided inclination of the head and body, not a mere nod. In this country, among ladies, kissing is a common mode of salutation, even on the street. Gentlemen generally shake hands, or in passing each other bow, or make a a mre PEP, MOEN) ae Are ee ee er et a ee ee : ~ oa he das Ae : ne DI eae gentleman any claim to her acquaintance, _ ai o ew — eS ann enn is eeFe ae we Te oy ie aimed cana eo Ne ia Pay) a: Per ne ae NI Ana ale ko aS le FI TNS EVE ENT OSIN TARE EET = 1° Brame eta cok Paco wes eSB Sle ss Lehn he : Bee eee keep canter Dk Sedaene Ase aD Cee Seen ie oe oe a 4O RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. sourteous motion of the hand. Even where you are not on good terms with a person, it is courteous to bow to him. Should he fail to return the bow the offence is his, and you have lost nothing by your politeness. A gentleman in meeting a lady acquain- tance should remove his cigar from his mouth and hold it down by his side before taising his hat to her. Above all, never smoke while walking or riding with a lady. She may not object to it, but that does not pardon your rudeness. A young lady should treat an elderly per- son, either man or woman, with the same deference she expects at the hands of a gentleman. The lady should bow first in meeting a gentleman on the street. It is her privilege to do so, as she thus shows whether she de- sires to continue his acquaintance or not. A failure on her part to bow first excuses the gentleman froin saluting her. Among very intimate friends either party may salute first. In riding, a gentleman raises his hat with his right hand, as the left is occupied with the reins. When two or more gentlemen, walking on the street, meet a lady who is known to one only, all should raise their hats and bow. Those unacquainted with the lady thus show their respect for their friend’s friend. In shaking hands do not give your hand coldly or listlessly. Shake hands with @ warm, cordial grasp. A. failure to do so is bad manners, aud will disgust the other per- son. Never give a single finger, or two fin- gers. Give, the whole hand, whenever you offer it. The right hand should always be offerec unless disabled. Where both parties wear gloves, it is not necessary to Temove them, Where one only is gloved, and the removal would cause an awkward pause, offer the hand promptly, with the remark, “ Hxcuse iy glove.” Kid gloves are not expected to be removed, as thr operation requires toc much time. A gentleman .nowd not bow from a win- dow to a lady in the street. A lady may do so toa gentleman, in which case he must return her bow. Avoid nicknames in salutations. Address a person either by his title, or by his or her Christian name. In speaking to your wife in company of in public, address her as *‘ Mrs. ee ee wife should likewise address her husband as “Mr. To style each other ‘‘ My dear,” “My darling,” “ My beloved,” or “ My duck,” in public, is simply to become ridiculous. Do not address each other by the Christian name in such cases; nor by the initial letter, as “Mr. P.,” “Mrs. C.” Use the ful! name with the prefix “ Mr.,” “Mrs.”CHAPTER V. Calls and Visits. aT IS one of the exacting rules of good society that calls shall be made upon your acquaintances and friends. Per- sons must do this who expect to maintain with one another social relations, and this is a rule which is observed in all enlightened countries and in all grades of society. ‘The call and visit are fashionable. ‘There is a class of people who have a great many dis- paraging remarks to make concerning fash- ionable society, and appear to think that an excessive imerit belongs to themselves be- cause they are not fashionable neople. Very likely they cannot be fashionable, not hav- ing the education, or the social position, or the breeding required. It is not with any good grace that such persons declaim against fashionable society. Empty, fashionable so- ciety is weak, uninteresting, and only to be despised; but good, cultured society, matu- taining its dignity by certain rules and cus- toms which are convenient and serviceable, is the best society in the world. It does not follow that everything is empty and vain because a certain fashion goes with it. Why not go contrary to all customs, and, when men generally have their hair cut short, wear yours down on your shoul- ders? And when men dress according to civilized society, why not go about in the garb of a wild Indian? When ladies wear | very sensible, short dresses in the street, why not come out with a train three yards long, and turn yourself into a street-sweeper ? There may be silly fashions; these you do not need to follow. ‘This work commends good, sensible social customs which make tor the peace and enjoyment of society. One of these customs is that of calling and visit ing, A lady is under an obligation to call on all her female acquaintances at stated times. These calls are formal in their nature, and are generally short. The conversation is devoted to society news, the gossip of the day and kindred subjects. In the large cities of the Eastern States, such calls are made from eleven in the morning until three o’clock in the afternoon. In other parts of the country, where the dinner hour is in the middle of the day or early in the afternoon, they are generally made from nine to twelve o’clock, and are termed morning calls, as ‘““morning ” is supposed tc mean any time before dinner. Make Your Call Brief. The morning call should be brief From ten to twenty minutes is usually sufficient. It should never be prolonged over half an hour. A lady, in making a formal call, shoulc never lay aside her bonnet or shawl, as if she intended to spend the day. A gentleman making a morning call must retain his hat in his hand. His umbrella may be left in the hall, but not his cane. Should a gentleman accompany a lady on a morning call, he must assist her up the steps to the door of the house, ring the beli, and follow her into the reception-room. Hé must wait patiently until the lady rises te take leave, and accompany her. Avoid subjects caiculated to lead to a pro: longed coaversation. Time your visit pre a Ret. ek Bee ae he NR NC lianas Pe we ae ee 5 Meee ea aera eee een ee PAR ene LA ae eT ee ene Ce eeFoe See Tan ae ca podbean Ra aia aIPWORS SM verona TRA Sh DAO a ND ll ho Sie ae sas ik IO ek AP Slag he ton ee eee ee ae eee ee ee te eee AL RCRD AH PSN ac ea me 42 RULES OF ETIQUETTE perly, and do not take out your watch and say itis time to go. Rise quietly, and take your leave with a few pleasant remarks. A lady engaged upon fancy work of any tind is not obliged to lay it aside in receiving the call of an intimate acquaintance. In formal calls a lady should devote herself antirely to her guests. Should a lady visitor take her leave, a gemtleman, if present, should rise, and offer to conduct her to her carriage. ‘The offer will not often be accepted, but if it is, do not forget to return and pay your respects <3 your hostess before quitting the house. Should other callers be announced during | your visit, wait until the bustle attending their entrance is over. ‘Then rise quietly and take your leave, bowing to the new-comers. Your hostess is not obliged to introduce you to her other visitors, and you should take no >ffence at her failure to doso. Do not make it appear that your departure is on account of the new arrivals. When a call is ended it is customary among the best bred people to ring for a servant to open the front door for a visitor. Some persons prefer to attend visitors to the door themselves; and this should be done if a servant is not called upon. It is not court- eous to let a visitor find his or her way out of your house unattended. In making a call, if the lady called upon is not at home, leave your card; and if there are several ladies staying there whom you desire to see, request the servant to present ‘our compliments to them severally. Should you not have a card, leave your name with the servant. Rules for Gentlemen. The circumstances under which gentlemen may make formal morning calls are limited. They may do so to express congratulations, sympathy, or condolence; to pay their re- FOR ALL OCCASIONS. spects to a friend who has just returned from a foreign country or a protracted visit; or to pay their respects to ladies who have ac~ cepted their escort to parties or places of amusement. In the last mentioned instance the call should not be delayed more than a day. A gentleman may call upon an ace quaintance to whom he has presented letters of introduction, or to return thanks for some favor received. ‘There are other cases whick must be governed by circumstances and the eood sense of the person. Congratulations. You may make visits of congratulation upon the occurrence of any happy or for- tunate event in the family of a friend—such as a matriage, a birth, or the inheritance of wealth. Such visits should be made in the morning. You should not defer a visit of coudoience beyond the next week after a death occurs in a family. Among friends such visits are re- garded as an imperative duty, except where contagious diseases render them dangerous. Ladies should make their morning calls in simple toilette, and not in very rich dresses. Gentlemen wear morning dress. In calling upon a person living or staying temporarily at a hotel, wait in the parlor and send up your card. Even intimate friends should observe this rule. Gentlemep may wait in the office or hall of the hotel whil¢ the waiter takes up their card. In going abroad, or on a long journey, you should either call in person upon all your friends or send cards, with the initials, P. P. C. marked in the corner, ‘These stand for ‘‘ Pour Prendre Conge,”? and mean “To Take Leave.” Some write the English words out in full. Upon returning home your friends must first call upon you. You may with propriety drop the acquaintance of those who neglect to do so.unless you have a formal or a general invita- tion. ‘To drop in upon your friends at all times is to render yourself a bore. Never solicit an invitation, either by word or act. Wait until you are asked, and your presence will be doubly welcome. Visits of Friendship. Visits of friendship are conducted by no particular rules of etiquette, as it is to be pre- sumed that intimate friends, or relatives, un- derstand each other’s tastes and peculiarities, and will conduct themselves in a manner mutually agreeable. Such visits may occa- sionally be made under misapprehension, be- cause there are many people in the world who are extremely fond of visiting and will often persuade themselves that their society is coveted, when in fact they are not partic- ularly welcome. Persons of any degree of sagacity can-easily distinguish the free and hearty welcome from the polite and easy grace which duty makes imperative. With intimate friends all strict ceremony can be dispensed with, but yet there are cer- tain liberties which you may enjoy at home, that are not exactly proper to take in the house of a friend or relative. Criticising the conduct of servants, or children, or the acts of any member of the household, or the do- mestic management generally, is in very bad taste, though it may be done with the ut- most good nature. No well-bred persons will ever make remarks of any kind upon the habits, faults or foibles of a family where they are paying a visit of friendship ; and to drop these remarks after they have left only shows that they were not deserving the con- Gdence and attentions they received. In such visits you should strictly apply the tule to do nothing by act, word or deed that may cause a disagreeable feeling on the part of your entertainer; which rule, as we have CALES"AND VISITS. You should not make a visit of friendship | 43 ‘before explained, is the fundamental priv. ciple of gentility. Avoid all ungraceful or awkward positions and all iounging in making calls. Sit up. right at ease, and be graceful and dignified in your manners, Do not handle any of the table ornaments in the room in which you are received. They may be admired but net handled, Everin- Calls. Where a lady has appointed a certain even- ing for receiving calls, it is best to call then, and not at other times. Formal calls may be made in the evening. Lut neve zarlier than nine o’clock, and shoula not be prolonged later than ten o’clock. In makiny such a calla gentleman should carry his hat, gloves, and cane with him into the parlor and hold them in his hands, unless requested by the hostess to lay them aside and spend the evening. In making an informal evening call a lady may take a gentleman with her. She pre sents him to the hostess, who introduces him to the other gtiests, if there are any present. A gentleman in making an informal evening call may leave his hat, cane, etc., in the hall, anda lady may lay aside her bonnet and wraps. The mistress of the house usually receive the visitors. At-evening parties she will be assisted by her husband or some other gen- tleman. ‘The reception should be performer in an easy, quiet and self-possessed manner, and without unnecessary ceremony. It is customary in some places to announce the names of guests as they enter the room. The host or hostess may then present them to other guests to whom they may be stran- gers. When any one enters the room, whether announced or not, the host or hostess shoulé Rperaeeee eS wee o e ie oe Se ca Ee ee Pe Pe A S 7 4 ” | el A . ee aaa ape 2 ae [tel CI MoteB ror ete Rta OS Bi Te ey oe aaa aewsaeari " Gel cbastah arval a are Fe Ae PPM lad el ss Nel eka ho a Par aie Braised ed CR Pua a al ih I IT 3 cu ee ee are a , sine SiN SER. AORN LOGE OTTAWA TSN oe to SR TE IN NH 44 RULES OF EPIQUETI1E FOR ALL OCCASIONS. rise at once, advance toward him, welcome him, and request him to be seated. If itis a young man, offer him an arm-chair, or a stuffed one; if an elderly man, insist upon his accepting the arm-chair; if a lady, beg her to be seated upon the sofa. Ifthe master of the house receives the visitors, he will take a chair and place himself at a little distance from them ; if, on the contrary, it is the mis- tress, and if she is intimate with the lady who visits her, she will place herself near her. Tokens of Respect. If several ladies come at once, we give the most honorable place to the one who, from age or other considerations is most entitled to respect. In winter the most honorable places are those at the corners of the fire- place, if you have a fire in it. If the visitor isa stranger, when the master or mistress of the house rises, any person who may be already in the room should do the same, unless the company is a large one. When any of the company withdraw, the master or mistress of the house should conduct them as far as the door. But whoever the person may be who departs, if we have other com- pany, we may dispense with conducting them farther than the door of the room. Upon arriving at a house where you wish to pay an evening call, should you find a small party assembled there, present yourself precisely as though you had been invited. After ashort while you may take your leave, explaining that you only intended to make a brief call. A gentleman should not seat himself on the sofa beside his hostess unless invited to do-so. It is vulgar to make a display of wealth in calling upon persons in reduced circum- stances. New-comers into a neighborhood should not make the first calls. A lady should not call upon a gentlemar unless on business. In making a formal call a gentleman should not sit with his legs crossed. Do not prolong an evening visit. It 1s apt to become tiresome even to your most inti- mate friends. Should your friend have a guest on a visit to her, call as soon as possible. Such calls should be returned without delay. Should you find a lady on the point of going out when you make your call, make it as brief as possible in order to leave her at liberty to carry out her plans. When you have risen to go, do not delay your departure. When you are prevented from attending a dinner party, or social gathering, call upon the person giving it without delay, and ex:- press your regret for your absence. In the country calls are more prolonged and less formal than in the city. Protracted Visits. With regard to visits of a day or more it is the universal custom in England, and 1s gradually coming into vogue in this country. to invite your friend to visit you for a speci fied length of time. This enables your guest to know that he is not inconveniencing you by remaining too long, and allows you to make arrangements for the entertainment o? other friends. ‘This is a most sensible cus toi, and cannot be tco highly commended In visiting a city where a friend resides it is best to go to a hotel, although you mas have a general invitation from your friend to inake his house your home. You can make a call upon him as soon as you please, and should he then urge you to accept his hospr tality you may do so with propriety. Youshould always write to inform evets a relative or most intimate friend of your in-tended visit and the probable time of your arrival. You should answer a written invitation to visit a friend, as promptly as possible, and state the time when you may be expected. Where no time is specified by your host or Hostess as to-the duration of your visit, you should not prolong it over a week. A shorter time is better. You should take an early occasion of stating how long you ex- pect to remain. Attentions due to Your Host. Conform your habits to those of the family in which you are visiting; give no trouble that can be avoided; and accept the hospitality offered you heartily and with well-bred grace. You should make arrangements for having your washing done at your own expense in making along visit. Remember, that to ask your hostess to have it done by her servants is to increase their labor, and to render them dissatisfied. A lady visiting in a family should not re- ceive the attentions of a gentleman who is objectionable to her host or hostess. Neither should she receive too many calls from gen- tlemen. Do not invite a friend who may call upon you to remain toaimeal. Suchan invitation must come from the host or hostess. A lady should decline an invitation to a dinner or party, which does not include her hostess. A gentleman inviting a lady visit- ing in a family to accompany him toa place of amusement, or upon an excursion, should include the younger ladies of the family in his invitation. ‘They may decline or not, accord- ing to circumstances. When a friend informs you of his or her intended visit, and the probable time of their airival, you should have their room ready for } CALLS’ AND VISITS: 45 their reception. It should be well warmed in cold weather, cooled and aired in summer, and provided with all the ordinary conven- iences of the toilette, and any other articles that may minister to the comfort of your guest. Entertaining the Guest. When you expect a lady guest, some male member of the family should meet her at the cars, steamer, or other place of arrival in your city or neighborhood. He should look after her baggage, and make such arrange- ments as will enable her to reach your house quickly and with comfort. Without breaking up the regular routine of your household or business, you should arrange your affairs so as to devote the most time to your guest. You should arrange re- ceptions, entertainments, and excursions of various kinds, if possible, and should always show her the places and things of note in your vicinity. You should do all this unob- trusively and make your guest feel that it isa pleasure to you to thus increase her enjoy- juent of her visit. Upon the departure of your guest, accom- pany him or her to the cars or boat, and remain until the conveyance has begun the journey, taking leave of your guest with cordiality. A true lady or gentleman will always treat with kindness and courtesy the servants of the family in which they may be visiting. In taking leave, you may, if you wish, remem- ber them by some gratuity. Do not unduly praise other places at which you may have visited. Your hostess may think you wish to contrast her establishment with the one so praised, to her disadvantage. You may with propriety make simple presents to the children of the family. Costly or lavish gifts place your entertainers under an obligation which they may not be able to ree eel ws a ee . _—~ so eee X os cine ee Sk *. Te. he "3 . - oe a Pe eae en need . ye wet ss an eagrr oe pee ee Ee ae eae ce a ba a elem‘ . a a TT ee ay ee acacia hea a Se IE ir Uma SL Te tnsPh Uae SRE aN asin a BE ak ELT Sa STE ll Ma DS Ae er aS ne ETE ce RS PAL PE Dt ea ag a ca POCORN PS IE ISL lea hadi ecalaiahd Seen 49 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. return, and therefore would not desire to in- cur. Do not outdress the members of the family n which you are a guest, especially in at- ending an entertainment or place of amutse- ment with them. Enter heartily into the plans that are | made for your entertainment or amusement. You should never permit your host or hostess to feel that he or she has disappointed you in their efforts to add to your enjoyment. Upon returning home after a visit, write mmediately to your host or hostess, an- souncing your safe arrival; and be careful to send kind messages to each member of the family, mentioning all by name, Visiting Cards. In the selection of cards great taste should be exercised. The material should be a thin, fine board of paper. ‘The size and shape are regulated by the prevailing fashion. ‘The color should always be pure white. Tinted or colored cards are an abomination. A gentleman’s card should bear only his name and address. A lady’s card should have the word “ Mrs.” or ‘ Miss’ prefixed to her name. The eldest unmarried daughter of a fainily should have her card read simply Miss Newton,” not ‘Miss Lilian Newton.” The younger sisters, if unmarried, should have their Christian names on their cards. Frofessional titles may appear upon the eard, as “Thomas Thomas, M. D.,” or ‘Decter Thomas Thomas,’ “Rev. Tobias Pounder,” or “Rev. Tobias Pounder, D. D.” In England a gentleman without a title pre- fixes “Mr.” to his name, as “Mr. Edward Holland.” Inthe United States this practice varies, but the best etiquette unquestionably demands the prefix ‘‘ Mr.” A card left for you during .your illness | should be answered by a call as soon as your recovery will permit. Should you send a card to a person who is ill, the bearer should always make a ver- bal inquiry as to your friend’s condition of health. The most perfectly tasteful card is an en eraved one. ‘The printed card comes next, then the written card. The fashion as to letters changes, but a plain script or old Eng- lish text, well engraved, is always neat and in good taste In making calls apon an intimate friend it is not necessary to send your cardin. The simple announcement of your name is sufh- cient. “he use of a card always has an ait of formality about it. Where persons are on cordial terms, and are visiting back and forth frequently, a card can very well be dispensed with. It should be remembered that a card with your address is a very handy way of making known your place of residence. Persons | will sometimes want this, and if they have it printed and right before their eves, there cannot be any mistake aheut it. Always be supplied with cards.CHAPTER Vi. Evening Parties. | OLIi# SOCIETY has always had its Pp evening gatherings, sometimes of a private, and sometimes of a public, sharacter. Enough has been said to guard Gght-headed persons against making fashion ge end and aim of lifes; they do not need emake this the all-absorbing topic of con- getsation, nor the object toward which all their energies are bent. Yet it is true that in all ages, and among all nations, social ob- servances and gatherings have oreuped an important place. 3 This has always been true of our own country, although it may be said thai elab- orate entertainments, involving. a great amount of dress and expense, have not been s® common with us as in older countries. Having no aristocracy of blood or wealth, we form our own aristocracy of education, refinement and good society. ‘To be able to appear well upon social occasions, such as evening balls and parties, is considered an accomplishment, and no one who does not possess it, is entitled to the distinguished consideration of persons who indulge in fashionable pleasures. It is in the party or ball-room that society fs on its very best behavior. Everything there is regulated according to the strict zode of good breeding; and as any departure from this code becomes a grave offence, it is ndispensable that the etiquette of the ball- oom be thoroughly mastered. Balls are of two kinds, public and private. The etiquette of public balls is almost identical with that of privete assemblies of | the same kind, and it will be snfficient is observe here, that those attending them should, if possible, form their own parties beforehand. Ladies, especially, will find the comfort and advantage of this. The rule as to giving private balls or par: ties is this: that ball-goers should make one return during the season. In giving this, you may imitate the vulgas g the higher classes, and have 4 “crush,” as it is called; but it is in far bette: taste to restrict the number of invitations, so that all the guests may be fairly accom- modated. ‘The invitations should, however, be slightly in excess of the number counted on, as it is rare, indeed, that everyone accepts. One-third more than the room will hold may generally be asked with safety. It is desirable to secure the attendance of an equal number of dancers of both sexes; but experience shows that to do this it is neces: sary to invite more gentlemen than ladies. It is the lady of the house who gives a party or ball. The invitations should be in her name, and the replies addressed to her, The invitations may be sent out thre weeks before the time; but a fortnight ig sufficient; a less time is not according to etd | quette. Printed forms of invitation may be ob tained at every stationer’s; but it is bettes that they should be written. In that case use small note-paper, white, and of the very best quality; let the envelopes be also thick and good, . This form of invitation may be used. it Re ~ ~ ny ek ee Fa IRR MN teal a ee PR cia Secamcutalelodh PE De on I al me" a aes taal - es reeCP PCL D6 a ONE TOWERS AT A DTENY TES 0 WAM Fes th aheasaaae ee 7 a Fe i iar el ch I tt at fh gl Oe Te ey a tae Me RR aR SN Pd al ak eek ite, : bn eZ Ri aaa - re eee pee % f zy et : 5 vf y i 4 ar 7 FN MSc aS NG nL Nea PCa RISE EE oe oR SANT eae ee eg IORI PIS ISS Lin ae a A 45 bas the merit of brevity and simplicity, two very desirable qualities in an invitation : “TerurspAY, February 5th. “Mrs. -—— requests the pleasure of Mr. ’s company at an Evening Party, Thurs- day, February 26th. “ An answer will oblige. “Dancing.” This is the simplest, and, therefore, the nost desirable form of invitation. To this an answer should be returned within a day or two, and it may assume the following form, which also has the m¢ erit of brevity ; “SarurDaY, February 7th. SETS has much pleasure in accepting Mts. - s polite invitation for Thursday evening, - 26th inst.” Short or verbal invitations should never be given, even among relations and intimate friends; it is discourteous, as implying that they are of no importance, and is excessively vulgar. It may be mentioned here, that married ladies are usually attended by their hus- bands; but the rule is not necessarily ob- served. Unmarried ladies should be accom- | panied by their mothers, or may be under the care of a chaperon. a married “ister, or | an elderly lady friend. Attractive Decorations. As to the ball-room:—When there is a choice of rooms, one which is light, lofty, and well ventilated, should be selected, if its size and proportions adapt it for dancing pur- poses. A square room is better than one which is long and narrow, but a medium be- RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. tween these extremes is best. Above all, a_ ball-room should be well lighted, and have a | gay or exhilarating appearance; the decora- | tions should be light, the window curtains | of a jike description, and flowers and shrubs may be introduced with advantage. 4 wood floor is essential to the enjoyimer of dancing; when the carpet is taken up, care should be used that no roughness of sur- face is presented. Some ladies have thei dancing-floors carefully polished with bees- wax anda brush. A crumb-cloth or linen diaper, thoroughly well stretched over a car: pet, is the next best thing to a polished floor The question of music is important. I it is alarge ball, four musicians is the least number that should be engaged—piano, cor net or flute, violin, and violoncello, I» small assemblies the violin and piano are sufficient. When the piano alone is used, however limited the number of guests, the hostess should secure the attendance of a pro fessional pianist, because the guests ought not to be left to the mercy of those who hap pen to be present and can be prevailed on to play, while it often happens that those whe ies out of courtesy would prefer taking part in the dance. The ae occupied by the orchestra is un derstood to be the top of the room, but 11 is not always convenient to adhere strictls to this rule in a private room, but it is gen- erally the end farthest from the door. The point sl should be ascertained by the dancers, as, in quadrilles, the top couples lead off, ane eee leads to confusion. The Refreshment Room. Rkefreshments must, of course, be ps for the guests during the evening; and, nothing should be handed round in the | ball room, a refreshment room is absclutely meces- sary. The refreshment room should, if possibie be on the same floor as the ball-room, be cause it is not only inconvenient, but dan gerous, for ladies heated the dance te encounter the draught of the staircases, while it is most destructive to their dresses. Provide in the refreshment room, lemon‘de, tea and coffee, ices, biscuits, wafers cakes and cracker bon-bons. ‘ill also add wine to the list. Supper should be laid in a separate room. What it should comprise must depend entir ely on the taste and resources of those who give the ball. To order it in from a goud con- fectioner is the simplest plan, but is apt to prove somewhat expensive. If provided at home, let it be done on a liberal, but not vulgarly profuse scale. Substantial fare, such as fowls, ham, tongue, turkey, etc., are absolutely necessary. Jellies, blanc-mange, trifle, light-cake, etc., may be added at dis- cretion. The French fashion of giving hot soup is coming in, and is very pleasant: the lighter kinds of soup—such as Julienne, Stavy, an 1 vermicelli—are most suitable. Nothing upon the table should require carving; the fowls, pheasants, turkeys and other birds, should be cut up beforehand, and held together by ribbons, which only | require severing. Whatever can be iced should be served in that way. | A lady shouid drink very little wine, and certainly not more than one glass of cham- pagne; it also behooves a gentleman to be careful in this respect, as nothing is more odious or contrary to the usages of modern society than any appearance of excess in this sarticular. The supper-room is epened about mid- night, and is not closed tall the end of the party The Dressing Room. A cloak-room for the ladies must be pro- vided, shawls and one or two maids to receive or cloaks, which they will piace so that they may be easy of access, and to render any assistance in the way of arrang- ing hair or dress, repairing a torn dress, or any office of that kind. In this room there EVENING PARTIES. Some persons | and | Supply of hair-pins, such articles as may be meeded im lady’s toilette. A hat room must not be ior gentleme: Dé forgotten; and it is best to provide vhecks, both for articles belonging to ladies and gentlemen left in charge of the attendants. Where checks cannot be had, tickets num. bered in duplicate may be used—-cne being given to the lady or gentleman, and the other pinned to the coat or cloak. By th: means the property of each guest 1s identifie? and contusion at the time of departure is pre- vented, Khe Lady’s Yoiletta. Fashion is so capricious and so imperative in the matter of dress, that it is difficult te give advice or instruction of permanen' | value upon the best ing. Stil! i n is a st mode of dress there are laws by which even fashio ulated and controlled. There are certai re in dress, approved by good taste and common-sense, which ca snnot “be Out raged with impunity A lady, in dressing for a ball, has first t consider ie delicate question of age; and next, that of her position, whether married or single. As everything about a ball-room should be light, gay, and the reverse of de pressing, it is permitted to elderly ladies, whe do not dance, to assume a lighter and more effective style of dress than would be prope: at the dinner-table, concert, or opera. Rict brocades, if not sombre in hue, and a some- what profuse display of good jewelry, are permissible BS 7 The toilette of the married and unmarried lady, however youthful the former, shoulé be distinctly and tastefully marked. Silk dresses are, as a ag Ce ble for those the married lady may ap: pear in a mozre of light tint, or even in 2 who dance; but thould be several looking-glasses, with a A white silk, 1f properly trimmed with tulle and needles, thread, pins, Sure Were cy Ce re a + Cae ee a a . _ ee s et oS =. = a pee aS eS | ee ee ee papery os MAS =e . ; . F. ee ee el . ie ae ) ane ee ee ee al ad an eeA 4 Pa : Oe rae lt Meee Se ae Te ey toe smalcaid aleuaarii Pee a vier ge EEE ENTE RE OT RO EI sta OT é oe ake : ee co re 5 pet Ne GE ate oe ie PS ea! ? eee oe : A ae is re Se aa PR eee ees ag orn ester ae Paar ec aR HISD ale ae _— ‘ithiahasiaaatiag - Res AE Meebiater PL Te 60 RULES OF ETIQUETTE dowers. Flowers or jewels may be worn in the hair. In some places small feathers are worn. Jewelry should be sparingly dis- played. FOR ALL OCCASIONS. shoes; these are of kid, satin, or silk, either white or matching the dress in color. With the tendency to revive the fashions of the Eim- pire in France, shoes, then worn, are reap- Young wnmarried ladies should wear | pearing. dresses of light material—the lighter the better. Tarlatane, gatize, tulle, the finest All the accessories of the toilette—gloves, shoes, flowers, fans, and the opera cloak— muslin, lace, and all similar fabrics are avail- | should be fresh and new. Inattention in this able. Such dresses should be worn over 4 matter spoils the effect of the most impres- silk slip, or under-dress. There is no restriction as to colors, except | that they should be chosen with reference to the wearer. ‘Thus a blonde appears tc most advantage in delicate hues, such as light blue | and pink, mauve, white, and like shades. | Arsenic green should be avoided, as injurious to health. ‘The brunette should, on the con- trary, select rich and brilliant colors. Flowers are the proper ornaments for the head und dress. ‘The French ladies select them with reference to the season ; but this is not insisted on in this country, and sum- mer flowers may be worn at Christmas. Ladies in deep mourning should not dance, even if they permit themselves to attend a ball. Should they do so, black and scarlet or violet is the proper wear. Where the mourning is sufficiently slight for dancing to be seemly, white, with mauve, violet or black trimmings, flounces, etc., is proper. Gloves and Shoes. White gloves befit the ball-room ; in mourning they may be sewn with black. They should be faultless as to fit, and never be removed from the hands in the ball- room. It is well for those who dance to be provided with a second pair, to replace the others when soiled, or in case they should split, or the buttons should come off—acci- dents small in themselves, but sources of great discomfort. As in the promenade, so in the ball-room, boots have greatly superseded the use of sive toilette. How Gentlemen Should Dress. The attire in which alone a gentleman can present himself in a ball-room is so rigorous- ly defined, and admits of so little variety, that it can be described in a few words. He must wear a black dress coat, black trousers, and a black waistcoat; a white necktie, white kid gloves, and patent leather boots. This is imperative. The ball-suit should be of the very best cloth, new and | clossy, and of the latest style as to cut. The waistcoat may be low, so as to disclose an ample shirt-front, fine and delicately plaited ; it is better not embroidered, but small gold studs may be used with effect. White waists coats have not “come in,” as they were ex- pected to do. ‘The necktie should be of a | washing texture, not silk, and not set off with embroidery. Gloves, white, not straw- color or lavender. Excess of jewelry is to be avoided: simple studs, gold solttazre sleeve-links, may be used, and a watch-chain, massive, and with the ustial charms and appendages. Perfumes should be avoided as effeminate ; if used at all, for the handkerchief, they should be of the very best and most delicate character, or they may give offencé, ac per- sons often entertain strong aversions to pecu- liar scents. At balls of a public character the “ party,” of whatever number it may consist, entersthe rooin unobtrusively, the gentlemen con- ducting the Jadies to convenient seats, In a private party or ball, the lady of the house will linger near fe door by which her guests enter (at least till supper time, or till all have arrived), in order to receive them with a smile, an inclination of the head, a passing remark, or a grasp of the hand, ac- cording to degrees of intimacy. The master of the house and the sons should not be far distant, so as to be able to introduce to the lady any of his or their friends on their arrival. It is not necessary that the daughters should assist in the cere- mony of reception. Announcing the Guests. Guests are announced by name ata private vall in Europe, and in some places in this country this rule is observed; but this is entirely a matter regulated by fhe custom of the place. As they reach the door of the ball- rooin, -he servant calls out, “Mr. and Mrs. > Mr. ‘Theodore aes 9 the Misses On entering the ball-room, they at once proceed to pay their respects to the lady of EVENING PARTIES. 51 | rubbed off. A pencil should be attact. 1d be a ribbon; but gentlemen should make a memorandum always to provide themselves with a small gold or silver pencil-case when going to a ball, so that they may be pre pared to write down engagements, A pretty idea has been sometimes carried out at balls—it is that of having the order of dancing printed on small white paper fans, large enough for practical use, one being given to every lady on her arrival, The notion is charming, and the expense not great, From eighteen to twenty-one dances is a convenient number to arrange for; supper causes a convenient break after, say, the twelfth dance, and if, at the end of the balt- list, there is still a desire to prolong the ball, one or two extra dances are easily improvised, A ball should commence with a march, followed by a quadrille, after which a waltz should succeed. Then follow quadrilles and waltzes, including galops, arranged as those having charge of the ball may think best, Formerly at public balls a Master of the | | | Ceremonies was considered indispensable: the house, and may then acknowledge the | but this custom is almost obsolete, the man- presence of such friends as they find around them. At public balls a programme of dancing is given to the guests on their arrival; and this | example should be followed in anything | more than a mere “carpet-dance. ” The dances should, in any case, be arranged beforehand, and it is convenient and inexpen- Sive to have them printed on cardsofsmall and convenient size, the numbered dances on one side, and numbered lines for engagements on the other. A better plan is to havea card folding in the middle, thus giving two pages, with dances on one page, and spaces for en- gagements on the opposite one. These shut | ribbons in the button-hole. ‘egether, and prevent pencil-marks being } agement ox the ball beingin the hands of a committee, who are distinguished by rosettes, These superin- | tend the dances, and gentlemen desiring to | dance with ladies apply te them for intro. ductions. Introductions. In private balls introductions are effected through the lady of the house, or other mem. bersof thefamily. Wherethereare daughters, they fitly exert themselves in arranging sets, giving introductions, ete—never dancing themselves until all the other ladies present have partners, No gentleman should ask a lady to dance with him until he has received an introdus - « «Shem enenind ad Se es CO ee a : : =e ee en eel ; tain nbn Se Ne ~~ ~ a hci camemnaeil es a aed ae ee el ee te aad be! < ao Senae ein Te ey PT uiatienn mR ce Orne Oe ee ee . are " Te : pens Sad ase dee noe Ent Paar ae i ; eo ; PR Dae ope ee hace UES oar RSI SRS PS as a ea Ng lila hae ES ee 5 ‘ " : : ri 5 BOE Ser eat ae eae stig cn cient noe Peace oe Pree EO: ai a eS) ae : c < rae SSN NE STON OLIN TEA AE ALND ONE EMILE EE PS ile ee bal gee SS MSGR GSS ee Sek ea ee 52 tion to her. members of the family the lady’s chaperon, or one intimate friend may ask permission to introduce another. The usual form of asking a lady to da is: “May [have the pleasure of dancing t quadrille with you >»? Where there is great intimacy : “ Will you dance >”? may suffice. T’o accept is easy enough—‘t Thank vot,. is sufficient; to decline with delicacy, and without giving offence, is more difficult— ‘Thank you: Iam engaged,” suffices when that expresses the fact—when it does not, and a lady would rather not dance with the gentleman applying to her, she must beg to be excused, as politely as possible, and it is + better taste for her not to dance at all in that set. The slightest excuse should suffice, as it is ungentlemanly to force or press a lady to dance. Attentions to Ladies. Ladies should take especial care not to | accept two partners for the same dance ; nor should a gentleman ask a lady to dance with him more than twice during the same even- ing; if he is intimate with the lady, he may dance with her three, or even four times. Do not forget to ask the daughters of the house. When a lady has accepted, the gentleman offers her his right arm, and leads her to her place on the floor. A slight knowledge of the figure is suffi- cient to enable a gentleman to move through a quadrille, if he is easy and unembarrassed, and his manners are courteous ; but to aska lady to join you ina waltz, or other round dance, in which you are not thoroughly proficient, is an unpardonable offence. It is not in good taste for gentlemen who do not | dance to accept invitations to balls ; but it is only the vulgar who, with a knowledge RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. his may be given through | of dancing giving the ball, or cline to join in the amusement. , hang about the doors. and de It is not necessary to bow to a lady at the end of a quadrille—in fact, anything like nce | formality 1s now discountenanced ; it is his | enough that you again offer her your right | arm, aud walk half round the room with her. | -You should inquire if she will take refresh- ments, and if she replies in the affirmative, you will conduct her to the room devoted to ‘that purpose—where it is good taste on the | part of the lady not to detain her cavalier ‘too long, as he will be anxious to attend to his next engagement and cannot return to the ball-room until she is pleased to be es- corted thither, that he may resign her to her | chaperon or friends, or to the partner whe ‘claims her promise for the next dance. Taking Supper. the last dance before supper, conducts that lady to the supper-room, attends on her while there, and escorts her back to the ball-room. Ata private ball, the lady of the house may ask a gentleman to take a lady down to sup- per, and he is bound to comply, and to treat her with the utmost delicacy and attention. | | : | The gentleman who dances with a lady in In either case a gentleman will not sup with the ladies, but stand by and attend to them, permitting himself a glass of wine with them ; but taking a subsequent oppor- tunity to secure his own refreshment. It is vulgar either to eat or drink to excess at a ball-supper. It is not well to dance every dance, as the exercise is unpleasantly heating and fatigu- ing. Never forget an engagement—it is an | offence that does not admit of excuse, except whena lady commits it; and then a gentle- man is bound to take her without a mur- mur. It is not the mode for married per- |sonus to dance together. Engaged personspad taste. Entertaining Conversatien. Gentlemen should endeavor to entertain the ladies who dance with them with a little conversation, or something more novel than the weather and the heat of the room; and in round dances they should be particularly careful to guard them from collisions, and to see that their dresses are not torn. Assemblies of this kind should be left quietly. If the party is small, it is permis- sible to bow to the hostess; but at a large ball this is not necessary, unless indeed you meet her on your way from the room. The great thing is to avoid making your departure felt as a suggestion for break- ing up the party; as you have no right to | hint by your movements that you consider the entertainmert has been kept up long enough. Finally, let no gentleman presume on a ball-room introduction. It is given with a view to one dance only, and will certainly not warrant a gentleman in going further than asking a lady to dance a second time. Out of the ball-room such an introduction has no force whatever. If those who have danced together meet next day in the street, or the park, the gentle. man must not venture to bow, unless the lady chooses to favor him with some mark of her recognition. If he does, he must not expect any acknowledgment of his salutation. After a private ball it is etiquette to call at the house during the following week. A gentleman attending a private ball un- attended will first ask one of the ladies of the house to dance with him. If she is unable to do so, she will introduce him to an agree- able partner. EVENING FARTIES. should not dance together too often ; it is in Cad §3 dance with her too often. conversations in the ball-room. Do not wait until the music has com. menced before selecting your partner. Lead her to her place in Gre to commence with the other dancers. A lady should never leave unattended. A 4 with whom he a ball-room gentleman seeing a lady is acquainted desirous of doing so, should promptly offer to escort her, aud the lady, on her part, should accept the proffered escort as frankly as it is tendered, but should be careful not to keep the gentle: man too Jong away from the ball-room. French Terms Used in Dancing. A knowledge of the French terms used in dancing is absolutely necessary to dancers, We give the following, with their definitions. They will be found sufficient for all practical purposes : Balancez. Set to or swing partners. Balancez aux cotn COMMGLS: Set to or swing Balancez quatre en ligne. line. Set four in a Chaine Anglaise. ‘Top and bottom couples right and left. Chaime Anglaise double. and left. Chaine Anglatsé demie. left. Chaine des dames. T,adies? chain. Chaine des dames double. Ail the ladies commence the chain at the same time. Double right Half right and Chaine (la grande). All the couples chas- sez quite round, giving right and left hands alternately—beginning with the right until all resume places. Chassez. Move to right and left, or left A gentleman will dance first with the to right. lady he accompanies to the ball, but will noi Do noi engage in any long or confidentia! . seal’ Oo ve ee ee eer Pee Ok a - Ce ed anita Ae oF ee em = dina a a . \ Er ee iat ee ee Ce ed oo. ee fa Oe ee a a ak hae a re deena ee ae a ee a ia ae aeee < a PT eee a te Ta el Salen al Saf SA eee genie ioe a sn ae BE FOAL ah AN PD ed elo keel kt AA Pence tna Bg IE AISNE ENA ID = 0 i Bi DO Seiden la ac uN So ae nie ar ae TON RUSS: SANE ESPN a : aes 2 ee PE - S a - | | 54 RULES OF ETIQUETTE Chassez croisez. Lady and gentleman shassez in opposite directions. Cavalier seul. Gentleman advances alone. Demi-promenade, All the couples halt- eromenade. Dos-a-dos. Back to back. Glissade. A sliding step. Le grand rond. All join hands, and ad- yance and retire twice. Le grand tour de rond. Join hands, and dance round figure. La grande promenade. Ali promenade ound figure and back to places. Le moulinet. “lands across. Dezt-mou- Bnet. Yadies advance to center, give right hands and retire. Traversez. Opposite persons change places ; vetraversez, they cross back again. Vis-a-vis. Face to face, or the opposite partner. There is no surer mark of a well-bred man or woman than proper and dignified conduct in public. ‘The truly polite are always quiet, unobtrusive, considerate of others, and 2are- fal to avoid all manifestations of superio™ty or elegance. Loud and boisterous talkiug, immoderate ‘aughing and forward and pushing conduct are always marks of bad breeding. ‘They inevitably subject a person to the satirical remarks of the persons with whom he is ‘Shrown, and are perhaps the surest means of FOR ALL OCCASIONS. proclaiming that such a person is not used te the ways of polite society. | When one considers whether there are special advantages in mingling with culti- vated people, and attending social gatherings, it should be remembered that only by exe perience and practice does any person gait proficiency in anything that is undertaken. No man could’sell dry goods, or run a cail- road, or cultivate a farm, or wtite books, without gaining his knowledge in each of these pursuits of what would be required. No young lady could entertain a parlor filled en I with visitors by playing the piano, without having previously studied and practiced long and faithfully. Now, the same may be said concerning society in general. One must have actual contact with it before the edges can be rounded off, and ease and grace of manners can be gained. It is for this reason, which is a very plain and substantial one, that young persons should be encouraged to attend social gath- erings, with the understanding that they are to conduct themselves properly, make them= selves agreeable, and contribute to the inter+ Ps est of the occasion. Only by actually doing this can one ye prepared to do it perfectly. I There must be necessarily many mistakes, blunders perhaps, which may be mortifying to the one who commits them, and must be borne patiently, with a determination to be able finally to avoid them.CHAPTER VIL Dinner Parties. HE table ts the social centre. It is the rallying point of good society, and persons who gather about it should be able to conduct themselves in the most approved manner. Any vulgarity there is a sure sign of bad breeding, and a kamentable deficiency in those accomplishments which belong to the true lady or gentleman. A knowledge of dinner-table etiquette is all-im- portant in many respects; but chiefly in this: that it is regarded as one of the strong tests of good breeding. Persons new to society may master its simpler forms—such as dropping cards, paying visits, mixing in evening parties, and soon; but dining is the great trial. The rules to be observed at table are sO bumerous and so minute in respect of detail, that they require the most careful study ; and the worst of it is that none of them can be violated without exposing the offender to instant detection, and for this reason, that those accustomed to good society cannot err in particulars in which others are pretty certain to commit themselves. For example, a gentleman could net put - his knife in his mouth; nor could a lady ask twice forsoup. ‘These may seem small points. but things are large or small, important or unimportant, by comparison; and, moreover, society judges of character and accomplish- ments by trifles. Mere friendly dinners should be conducted with the strictest regard to etiquette, but more freedom may be observed than at formal dinner-parties ; nor need one make such an elaborate display. Let the home feeling and @ graceful ease mark the occasion. In giving a dinner-party, the great ques tion is, Whom to invite? Upon this point there hinges a second of almost equal impor tance, namely, How many are to be invited Taking the second difficulty first, we may say that a dinner-party may consist of any number with one exception; there are not to be thirteen at table, because some persons entertain a foolish superstition with regard to that number, and we have known those who would decline to sit down rather than make the thirteenth. Large dinners are a mistake, theugh, of course, political, business, family and other reasons, often necessitate their being given. Six or eight is a comfortable number for a dinner. We prefer an even to an odd number; the guests are then paired, though all present should unite for the general en- tertainment, instead of breaking up into knots, as is inevitably the case where a dozen or more persons sit down. Of course, if a dinner is given merely as | an opportunity for display, it does not matter how many are invited, so that the resources of the establishment (and of the pastrycook) are equal to the occasion. In the latter case, too, it does not much matter who is asked: the host has only to group his guests to the best of his ability. But when the object is that a dinner shalt be enjoyed, it is quite as important to ask, ‘“Who?” as todetermine how many. ‘There is nothing which party-giving people fail in so lainentably as the right selection and assortment of their guests. How often must it be repeated, that it is not enough to make 55 7 e - Y — eee ee ee a Pie ee eee " a a oe el ae rs * _~e * ca ce aati eal 3 a wo 75 < 7. IEW TEA MERE ARR Or ee cuca, 2 ek eucaaniat ease ict io ge se SS Mehteaavates Pan ee PT eee RNIN ETO YIN ENTS TANE SENTRA TNE Nm Tis Se ee ee eee hearer ag eg ESSE ak dt OI a Se - rn 9 £h | 7 of a 56 RULES OF ETIQUETTE the most perfect arrangements for receiving | company if those invited are “opelessly un- piifed to one another? ‘The étfect of bring- ing together an incongruous mass of people ic certain and inevitable; nothing out failure can attend it. ‘here 1s, we are aware, the difficulty of the people one mst ask; but many dinner-givers seem to have no tact, no sagacity, no perception of the fitness of things, and when they have a power of choice do not exercise it. They think one wealthy man must be glad to meet another wealthy man, one lawyer another lawyer, and so on. Forms of Invitation. Having decided upon the guests to beasked, send out the invitations a reasonable time before the day fixed on for the dinnrr. In the height of the season, in town, this should be three weeks before; but under ordinary aircumstances, a fortnight is sufficient, and, in the country, a week or ten days. All invitations—even those to the most intimate friends—should be by note. Forms are to be obtained at stationers’; but if the note is written, let it be on the very best paper, small note size. ‘he invitation is in the name of both the lady and gentleman of the house, and should be written in the third person, and may take this form: request the pleasure “Mr, and Mrs. of Mr. and Mrs. ——’s company at dinner, 59 on Wednesday, Aug. —th, at — o'clock.” 4 ¢ Instead of “pleasure,” the word is sometimes used. “The answer must agree with the invitation, in being written in the third person, and on small note-paper. It ‘favor”? may run: “Mr, and Mrs. —— have great pleasure ’s invitation in accepting Mr. and Mrs. to dinner on the —th.” If it is necessary to decline the invitation, the note assumes’ this form: ee FOR ALL OCCASIONS. “Mr. and Mrs. —— regret, tnat owing to a previous engagement, they cannot have the pleasure of accepting Mr. and Mrs. g kind invitation for the —th.” If any other reason besides that of a prioi engagement prevents the invitation being accepted, it should be stated. Whether accepting or declining, a reply to an invitation to dinner should always be returned immediately or at the very earliest convenience. When practicable, invitations should be sent by the hands of a servant rather than through the post; but this is a remnant of punctiliousness which “railway manners” are rapidly sweeping away. How Ladies Should Dress. Dressing for dinner only presents points of difficulty to the ladies; the rule to be fol- lowed by gentlemen is simple enough. Several considerations serve to embarrass the gentler sex. For a “great” dinner, a lady dresses in a style which would be extrav- agant and out of keeping with a “small” dinner; yet the invitation is in both cases couched in the same terms. Moreover, a dinner is often the prelude to an evening party, or a visit to the opera, or some other form of amusement; and the style of dress must be suited to these contingencies also. One or two general rules may be laid down. Full dinner dress means a low dress; the hair arranged with flowers or other orna- ments; and a display of jewelry, according to taste. Fora grand dinner, a lady dresses as elaborately as for a ball; but there is a great distinction between a ball dress and a dinner dress. Let no misguided young delle who is invited to a great house rush to the conclusion that it will be right for her to appear in a dress that she has worn ina ball- room. ‘The style of thing required is wholly | different. In the ball-room everything shouldbe light, floating, diaphanous, ethereal, and calculated to produce a good general effect. A dinner dress must be good in quality; it should be of silk of the latest make, with au ample train. By way of setting the dress off, rich lace may be worn—Brussels, Mech- iin, Honiton, Maltese or Cluny; but such ‘ight materials as blonde, tulle, areophane, tatlatane, etc., are quite out of place as trim- mings. . Jewelry of almost any value may be worn at a great dinner—diamonds, pearls, eme- raids, rubies, any kind; but it is not in good taste to wear too much jewelry at any time. AAS accessories, an opera-cloak, a fan, and @ pair of perfectly white and perfectly fitting gloves must not be forgotten. In dressing for an ordinary dinner—say a dinner of six or eight, or a dinner at a coun- try house—the demi-toilette is sufficient. The dress should be made with a low body; but a transparent arrangement of net or mus- lin fastening round the throat should be worn over it. This is better than an ordinary high dress. The hair should be so dressed as to be in keeping with the prevailing fashion, and at the same time becoming. Gentiemen’s Dress. The theory is that gentlemen dress for dinner in such a manner as to be prepared for any kind of entertainment—opera, con- cert, theatre, party, meeting, or even ball— which they may have occasion to attend during the evening. The dinner or evening dress consists of a black dress-coat, black waistcoat and trousers, white cravat, patent leather boots, and white kid gloves. Jewelry of a more showy description than that worn in an earlier part of the day is permissible. A handsome chain may be worn with a gold watch; a diamond ring DINNER PARTIES, 57 isin good taste, and the shirt-studs may be choice, but should be in proportion to the means of the wearer. t may be as well to remark that dinner- parties are not supposed to be given on Sun days, and, therefore, when an invitation is accepted for that day—or when, on a visit. host and guests dine together—it is not necessary to dress; the ladies appearing in high dresses, or the demi-toilette at most: gentle mn it: walking-dress. The Dining-rocom. To secure the success of a dinner, certait: arrangements are indispensable. ‘To begin with: it must be given in a comfortable and appropriate room. Where there is a choice of rooms, that selected should be in keeping with the number of the guests. See that it is warm—about 68°. If, as is now the custom in most of our cities, the dinner be given at a late hour, requiring the room to be lighted, let it be lit so that the light fallsonthe table. Ifthe room is usually lit by means of gas brackets, over the fire-place or elsewhere, supplant them by moderator lamps on the table, as nothing is more un: comfortable than a light at one’s back. The room should be carpeted, if only that the servants may move about it withou’ noise. Table Furnishings. It is not easy to determine on the best shape for a dinner-table. The old obleng table has disadvantages; the host and hostess are effectually separated, and the same may be said of the guests on either side. Oval tables are now much in,vogue, and are com- fortable. Round tables also have theit advocates; but, like those which are oblong, they cause the company to break up into knots. Still, for small parties, many preiex them. ‘slee care that the cloth placed upca it is aid ee ee ee Pe ee ee ae a ee Pee Pn ee es ee * hin Me Milter IPP PPADS ee tlF Ay . N rm < o eae ye co a) oleae one Lar Fad ae i fe NON NS LINN Cob it "Sin rt lo Foe sonic De alta Ie WR Ina ln A ad LIFT kG Sl OS a Dae cece ee en agree LLCO A DLN eat Hah eteanznay & 4 : =e Re a -# H i a a | | 58 RULES OF ETIQUETTE radiantly white, the folds showing that it has been recently opened. The same remark will apply to the table napkins. It is customary to place an ornamental stand fora large dish in the middle of the table, and a vase or stand of flowers at inter- vals down it. But itis well to see that these objects are fot so pretentious as to prev ent those dining from having a clear view of those opposite them. The appearance of the table is secondary to the comfort of the guests. Placing the Table-Ware. On the right of the space left for the plate place two knives and a spoon. ‘The present mode is to use silver knives as well as forks for fish, and in that case this knife is placed with the others. On the left three forks—-that for sweets sinaller than the others. The glasses are placed on the right. These should be at least four in number. As it is ~% great breach of decorum, as well as a sign of ignorance, to drink one sort of wine from a glass intended for another, we will describe vhe glasses commonly in use. ‘The tall glass or that with the shallow, saucer-like top, is for Champagne; the green for hock, Chablis and similar wines; the large, ample glass for claret and Burgundy; the round, full- shaped glass for port, and the smaller glass for sherry. This is for the reader’s information, yet must not be understood as implying that wines are essential to a high-toned dinner. Some of our very best families, the acknow- ledged leaders of fashion, never put Cham- oagne nor any kind of wine on their table There can be a close adherence to the observ- ances of good society without “ placing exhil- arating compounds” before ee whose prin- ciples and practices, perhaps, forbid any indulgence in wine drinking, even on “State occasions.” | : | | FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Each guest will be provided with a table napkin, which, in laying the table, shoule occupy the place reserved for the plate. There are many different, many ingenious ways of treating the dinner-napkin. The simplest is to leave it in the foldsin which it comes from the laundress. The Dinner. Respecting the dinner itself, 1t 1s impos sible to lay down any fixed rule. That mug be governed by the season and the taste of the host We may add that a dinner, however hum. ble in its pretensions—if only such as a man gives when he asks another to come and “take a chop 3) with him —should never con. sist of less than three he nainely, soup or fish, a joint (which, in <. small dinner, may try or game) and - be accompanied by ae pastry. Cheese with salad, follows as a mat- ter of course. For dessert this provision should be made: each guest will require a silver spoon, fork, and a plate, with a small folded nate in it. Finger-glasses, containing rose-water, used to be placed on each guest’s left hand at dessert; but it is now the mode for the perfumed water to be taken around in a deep silver dish, each person in turn dipping the corner of his napkin in it, and wetting the fingers and lips. The Attendants. It may be added that the success of a din- ner greatly depends on the attendants. It is very desirable that there should be a suffi. cient number of servants. ‘Three will be enough for a party of ten or fifteen at table. They should be previously instructed in their duties, and each should have particular duties assigned, and attend to these only. Each should take charge of one part of the table, and no other ‘Thus one looks after tks guests on the right from the host to themistress, another taking the opposite side of the table, while a third has charge of the sideboard. White collars and gloves should be worn by females; or if not, care should be taken that the hands and nails are perfectly clean. The servant hands everything at the guest’s ! left hand. Receiving the. Guests. Qn their arrival, the guests are shown into the drawing-room, which should be well lighted, and in cold weather well warmed. The hostess should be ready in her drawing- rooin to receive at least by the hour for which dinner is fixed. She should have dressed, have given a glance at the dinner-table to see that all the appointments are correct, fooking more especially to thesmaller points, which servants are apt to overlook. She should then repair to the drawing-room, occu- pying a position there sufficiently near for her to command an uninterrupted view of the door, and not too close, because it is a mark of attention on her part to rise and advance a few steps te receive her guests as they arrive. Cordiality should mark the reception of each. la good houses the guests are received at the house-door by the man-servant, who ascuttains the name and announces it at the drawing-room door. In some establishments, where men-servants are not kept, the females ‘nm attendance do this; but the bawling out of names is absurd in small houses, where th> guests are few. {t is peculiarly the part of the lady of the iywuse to entertain the guests as they arrive, during the awkward half-hour preceding nner. If she is at ease, it is not difficult ', introduce the guests to each other, to make observaticns suggesting conversation— introducing any topic of the day, or availing aetself of any chance allusion to pictures, | these being arranged on the old-fashioned DINNER PARTIES. 59 articles of vertu, prints, pnotugraphs, or othe: objects of interest in the drawing-room, te which, however, it is not well that she should herself direct attention, unless the curiosity of the objects, rather than their value, consti: tutes their attraction. During this period the lady quietly “pairs off” her guests, introducing to the gentle. ‘men the ladies they will take out to dinner. Dinner Ready. When a butler forms part of the establish. ment, he appears at the drawing-room door and announces that dinner is on the table, waiting respectfully as the guests pass out. When there is no butler, the announcement is made by the housemaid. Dinner should be announced a few min- utes after the arrival of the last guest—that dreadful personage whose vulgar disregard o# punctuality has perhaps endangered the suc- cess of the repast. t is well to give the servant charged with the duty of announcing the guests a faizly written list of the names to be looked at be- forehand, and ticked off as theyarrive. This prevents mistakes in names, and has this fur- ther advantage, that the dining-room may be lit up, and matters forwarded, as the com- pany arrive; and when all are there, the ordes to serve may be given, without the mastes or lady of the house being troubled. When dirmer is announced the master o house will offer his arm to the lady to whom he desires to show the greatest respect, ané places her on his right hand—he general taking the lower end of the table. The gen tleman on whom has been conferred the honor of escorting the hostess offers her his arm and conducts her to the head of the table, then takes his seat on her left hand. The rest of the company follow and take the seats assigned them by the host or hostess; 7? ee ee a Se ee a ee e ~ Tat. + ae iets oe ee « - ee 2 el amelie =~ ——Es Bt LHL Se ee rte eer a a ala ad Sadana Peso aan sali ase CT el tae 2G Be a NPD ld alot Kal kaa REE na ak IS 4 4 2g i rt Fs ee 3 y ; Mi em }} | f 3 ee y Bs aes : ¥ Pi 7 B a & 2 2 Ge RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. olan, according to precedence—married ladies taking the lead of unmarried. But as this precedence question involves endless difficul- ties and unpleasantness, when one gets be- yond the broad distinctions of cank, profes- sion, aud so forth, the good taste of the present day has suggested an innovation which is being widely ‘ollowed It is taken for eranted that every place at a friend’s table is equally a place of honor and equally agree- abl e, so that, in the best circles, it is become ing the custom for the guests to sit in the order in which they enter the room, even the lady of the house resigning her place of honor and taking any seat that offers. A ttle care should, however, be taken that a fudicious distribution of the guests, accord- of intimacy, etc., is secured. T,adies sit on the right of gentlemen. As soon as seated all the guests remove | their gloves, and taking the napkins from the table, open them and spread them on the | knees, ‘The napkin is not te be tucked into the waistcoat or pinned on to the front of the dress. It will usually contain a roll; tuat Is Breed on the left side of the plate. be oO ~ © These preliminaries arranged, each gentle- man converses with the lady he has brought down until the dinnet begins The Various Courses Soup is always first served—one ladle to | each plate. Eat it from the side of your spoon. Do not take it too hot; and do not ask twice for it, o: dip up the last spoonfuls, or till your plate to get at it. Fish follows soup. At the best tables you will find a silver fish-knife as well as fork ; if not, a with a fork in the right hand and asmali piece of bread in the left. Never spit the bones ont inte the plate, or touch them. with your fingers; use a corner of — ar your napkin to convey them {to the side af your plate. When there are two kinds of fish, the larger one—say the turbot—is placed before the host; the lady taking that which is lesg alculated to fatigue in the helping. When fish sauce is handed, put it on the side of your plate. By the way, endeavor to learn the sauces appropriate to the different kinds of fish-—as lobster sauce with turbot, shrimp! or caper with salmon, oyster with cod, and SO Of, The entrees follow:—They are, for the most part, served in covered silver side-dishes. It is not customary to do more than tasté one, or, at the most, two of these. Tkey | consist of sweetbreads, Aates, cutlets, and ing to their tastes, accomplishments, terms | : : Lae 4 ; | made-dishes generally, and over-indulgencé in them is apt to unfit one for enjoying the rest of the dinner, while it is not very good fot digestion. Eat, such as can be eaten thai way, with a fork Roast Meats. The roast meats are placed about the table in this way :—the largest and most import ant, say haunch of venison, before the host; one before the lady of the house, and such dishes as tongue or ham before particulas | guests, occupying seats at points where carv: ing-knives and forks wili be found ready placed. It is proper to proceed to carve what is put before you for that purpose without liesita- tion or demur. Carving is a most important accomplishment, and one that should be ac- quired by every gentleman. A man should be able to carve a joint or a bird easily, dex- terously, withont exertion, and with infinite neatness. But facility is only to be acquired by practice. You will see an unpracticed man stand up and labor ata joint or « bird, while another will quictly dispose of it with-to do with it; practice more. We need hardly say that both knife and fork are used for meat and poultry, and like- wise for game; but under no possible circum- stances is the knife to be put in or near the mouth. Do not begin to eat meat until you have all the accessories—the vegetables, the gravy, and, in the case of venison or mutton, the cur- rant jelly. Do not load your plate with different kinds of vegetables. Eat them witha fork. Do not take a spoon for peas, it is unnecessary. It is best for both gentlemen and ladies to eat asparagus with the knife and fork, cutting off the heads. In England gentlemen eat as- paragus by taking the stalk in their fingers. Ladies never do. Game and Dessert. Game follows. It is often put on with the sweets, in which case the principal dish of game is placed before the gentleman, and the pudding or tart before the lady of the house. Minor dishes are arrayed at the sides. It is very necessary for a gentleman te have a knowledge of the way in which hare, pheasant, partridge, teal, snipe, and small birds generally, are carved and helped. A knife is used in eating all of them. Cheese concludes the dinner. As a rule, sualy the gentlemen eating it, the ladies de- tlining todo so. It is eaten with a fork. Rusks, or pulled bread, as it is called, should be handed round with it. These may be taken, and also broken, with the fingers, as bread is done. When the servants have placed the dessert on the table, and have handed the fruit and gweets once round, they retire. The gentlemen then devote themselves to DINNER PARTIES. gut effort or difficulty. ‘Tact has somethin g i { OF They select the choicest fruits from those a! hand. Should alady takea pear, an apple, oz an orange, the gentleman next her prepares it, using a silver knife and fork, and neve: touching it with the fingers. In the same way, should she take walnuts or nuts of any kind, he will crack them for her, ‘There will be plenty of time for him to have his owr dessert when the ladies have returned to th- rawing-room. Retiring from the Table. Then the hostess bows to the lady of most distinction present, and all the ladies rise and prepare toretire. ‘The gentleman nearest the door opens it, and holds it open for them. The hostess is the last to go out. While they are going all the gentlemen rise, and remain standing until they are gone It would not, however, bea violation of eti- quette for the gentlemen to accompany the ladies to the drawing-room at once. ‘Tea and coffee are dispensed by the lady of the house in the drawing-room. special province. This is her It should be accompani by a few wafers; a plate of very thin roll bread-and-butter, and a few biscuits of the lightest description may be added. One cup of tea or coffee only should be taken; and we need hardly say that it must not be poured into the saucer to cool. It will be handed round the room by the servants, In the drawing-room there should be 2 little music to give relief to the conversa: t20n. Ata plain family dinner, at which one or two guests are present, more devolves on the host and hostess, and less on the servants, ed However quiet and unpretending the party. a lady must never help herself to anything, even if itis immediately before her. And she must studiously refrain from offering to han# a V anything to others; that is a siznal proof ef *e ladies, and see that they want for nothing. ill-breeding. ad a ae ee ee ee on a oe er Sn ad F a Cy ae rae ae oe ee i. tO ie oe ie * pete Pa ee ed al i a aieDo ioe ee eicaesald eben Ie oe Nn fo ei pear ie et ecb sie iD Yutak ee Miah RAM PD ld a i el bk eae A EE Dae Pe re ee ee aA ede At PI ee ciara ae TOY ek ane, SE BOWER RN TNR WN TTB Ni Bo io GAR MTS BNR a BIO SES 62 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Nothing should be suffered to disturb the general composure at the dinner-table. Maintain Self-Possession. Accidents will happen; wine will be spilt, and glass and china broken ; but these things should neither bring a frown to the face of the hostess, nor be sitifered to embarrass the anlucky guest. The highest compliment ever pai toa lady, as expressive of her es sentially lady-like qualities, was that she was— ‘ Miscress of herself, though china fall.” wet us adil a few general hints. Chew with your mouth shut. Cut the food into small pieces, and when a spoon is raised to the mouth see that it is not so 1ull as to re- quire an effort to swallow its contents. Never ériak with the mouth full; it may lead to choking, which is unpardonable. ‘Thesame rule applies totalking. Gentlemen wearing beard or moustache should be careful to use the table-napkin repeatedly, so that no particle of fod, or drop of wineor gravy, beleft adher- ing to the hair in an offensive way. Do not put your hands on the table, or play with your bread, or examine the plate with an in- quisitive glance. In taking sauces, be care- fal not to try to secure all the oysters, shrimps, ete.; and so, in taking salad, do not appro- priate ali the lobster, or whatever may give a character to it, or take an undue quantity of the dressing. In eating plum or cherry tarts, convey the stones from your mouth to the plate with your fork. Avoid taking dishes quite un- ignown to you, lest you should not like them, and be obliged to express your distaste either by your face or in some more offensive manner. Never offer to pass a plate that has been handed to you. Do not speak to serv- ants imperiously or in an offensive manner. It is the part of the host to promote genial, pleasant feeling, tosee that every oue is prop- —" erly attended to, and that his frieuds lav nothing that may tend to their comfort. Ox the other hand, the guests are bound to pre mote the general amusement, which is the object of their meeting, not by individua’. attempts at brilliancy—for the desire to shine is fatal—but by stimulating conversation contributing to it without absorbing it, auc so helping to promote geniality, good humor, and genuine enjoyment. General Hints. You should sit at a convenient distance from the table, and sit upright. Do not lean back, or tilt your chair, or stoop forwaré towards the table. When grace is said at the table, observe the most respectful attention, reverently in- clining the head. Do not be impatient to be served. Should you need anything at the hands of. the serv ants, do not order them to serve you, but re quest them politely, in a low, distinct tone, adding, “if you please.” In declining a viané offered by them, say, “ Not any, I thank you,” etc. Do not pick your teeth at table, or put your hand over or in your mouth. Do ne’ hesitate to take the last piece of bread o: cake in a dish handed to you. Your hos has more for other guests. When a plate containing food is handed to you, set it dows before you, and do not pass it to your neigh: bor. Do not thrust your feet far enough under the table to touch the feet of persons opposite you. | Tea or coffee should be drunk from the cup aud not poured into the saucer. Do not set your cup on the table-cloth, as it will soil it. In passing your cup to your hostess or the waiter, remove the spoon, and lay it in th saucer, beside the cup. Always act simply and easily, as if you were accustomed ts doing things properly. €CHAPTER VIIL ftiquette to be Observed at Weddings. ‘ HE first great question is, ‘‘ When shall @ the wedding take place?” In Europe the favorite months for weddings are, generally speaking, June, July and August. ‘There is some unaccountable prejudice against the month of May. Easter week isa very popular time for marriages. Wednesday or Thursday is considered the dest day—indeed, any day but Friday, which is considered unlucky. In this country all seasons are regarded as suitable, except that Lent is considered an inappropriate time, and Friday shares the prejudice entertained towards it in Europe. It is the privilege of the lady to appoint the time for the wedding, and the gentleman should leave her unfettered in this, except “OY very important reasons. The season of the wedding day may be gov- arned, to a certain extent, by the place where the honeymoon is intended to be passed; and by the same rule, the honeymoon is fre- qtiently governed by the season at which a wedding is obliged to take place. Marriage is regulated in this country by the laws of the various States of the Union. Some of these require a license from the county court, or circuit court of the city in which the marriage is to take place. This ‘icense must be procured by the intended husband, and he must be accompanied by a seat relative of the lady—her father or wnardian is the proper person—~who must make oath that she can lawfully contract the proposed marriage, and answer any ques- Hons that may be asked. _ The bridal ¢vousscau does not include plate, glass, china, furniture, though we have sees, these articles mentioned as belonging thereto in a book professing to be an authority or the subject. It comprises simply the bride’s stock of attire, which is to last her for the first few years of her wedded life. She should be careful, however wealthy she may he, not to have too great a quantity of wearing ap parel; for the changes of fashion are so fre quent thatit is just possible the make of many of her garments may be quite gone by before she has had time to wear them. It is impossible te give an accurate state ment of the cost of a ¢rousseau, for that is 4 matter that must be governed by the means and taste of the bride. Gifts for the Happy Pair. Presents to the bride and bridegroom-elect should be sent in during the week previous to the weddiug—not later than two full days before the event. It is so customary now to make ax exhibition of the presents the day before, or the day of the wedding, that it is more than ever necessary that they should arrive in good time. ; They should be in accordance with the means, and in harmony with the tastes of the recipients. Nothing isin worse taste than te send some gorgeous ornament for a house whereit will be out of keeping with all the rest of its belongings, and only serve fora mont ment of the vulgar ostentation of its donor. We happen to know of an instance of a mos! elaborate and ornamentally decorated jewei box, which was presented to a young bride, who was very blooming and very lovely, but had not a diamond to bless herself with. 63 ? as Saas eee ee ened ; re c Se ee ra a eae ae Te Teas °asain Ye bl en si SA Ly nie a a oleae f token bebe Na Ash APD all) SL eae TR a aa et a RN ak ZL Sal GS bade Tecan eh apran ctasn eee Malema PIS POAC Salsa aa eens RSI Poe siete aoe ta Dated DPW REIN UB Rwy in hen SAIL EE ON FOO LO SLY + 4 EA ae = $4 RULES OF ETIQUETTE If people do not know what to send, of what the young couple require, they should ask; for nothing 1s more aunoying thau to xive or receive duplicate presents. We have known instances of five tanter Icnines three soup-ladles, and a couple of tea-urns being yresented to a young couple just starting in fe, It is customary for the gentleman to make nis bride a present of jewelry to be worn at het vedding. where his means will permit him to do so. Flowers. The bride’s bouquet should be compose4 exclusively of white flowers, such as gard enias, white azaleas, or camicillas, with a ttle orange blossom intertwined. It is the privilege of the groomsman to procure and present this to the bride It is generally considered a delicate attet ion on the part of the bridegroom to present 2 bouquet to his future mother-in-law. This may be composed of choice variously colored Sowers, whilst those of the bridesmaids— which are, of course, provided by the parents af the bride-—should be white, with an edg- ing of pale blush roses. To save trouble and anxiety with regard to bouquets, it is the best plan to order them from some practical florist. He wili know exactly what to send, and will deliver them fresh on the day of the marriage. The Bridesmaids. ‘he bridesmaids are usually selected from among the sisters of the bride, her cousins, or friends. Th ne bridesmaid is generally supposed to wy her dearest and most intimate friend. Occasionally the sisters of the bride- sroom are asked to assist as bridesmaids, but it should be borne in mind that the bride’s own sisters always take the precedence. «, The number of the bridesmaids, of course, must be governed by circumstances, Sx *s FOR ALL OCCASIONS. a good number, though eight and twelve are frequent. Recollect, an even wiumber should be always selected. he dress of the bridesmaids is usually of some light white material, such as ¢wd/e, or tar: Jatane trimmed with some gay color of a ligh’ hue. ‘They frequently wear wreaths and veils, but of course of a more light and less | costly character than that of the bride. It is) not unusual for half to adopt one kind of trimming to their dress, and the rest that of a different hue; but it is more strictly eti- quette for aii of them to be dressed alike. In this country the bridesmaids either pro- vide their own dresses or may accept thent from the bride, The Groomsmen. The number of groomsmen must corres . | pond to that ofthe bridesmaids. These gen- tlemen have mostly nothing to do but to make themselves agreeable and dress well, except the first or principal groomsman, who is charged by the bridegroom with the man agement of the whole affair, and should be furnished by him with money to pay all the expenses. Where a riug is used he shouid take charge of it, and present it to the bridegroom at the proper moment. He must hand the minis. ter his fee, and pay the sexton and other per sons entitled te payment their legitimate charges t is his duty to undertake all the arrange ments for his friend on the eventful day, and to see that they are all properly carried out. The dress of the groomsmen should be similar to that of the bridegroom, the only difierence being that their costume—say 18 the matter of gloves, scarfs and trousers, should be a shade darker in tone than his We have seen weddings where all thé vroomsinen were attired precisely alike, bus7 gentlemen’s dress even more monotonous than it usually is on these occasions. The Bride. The bride should retire to rest early on the evening preceding the wedding, although the ceremony may not take place until the next evening. She should avoid all fatigue and excitement, and endeavor to look as fresh aud blooming as possible on the all-import- occasion. The bride generally takes breakfast in her Own room, and remains there until the hour attives for her to resign herself to the hands of her maidens to be dressed for the altar. It is the bridesmaidens’ privilege to perform this service. After she is dressed she remains in her room till her carriage is announced, or, where the wedding is at the house, until it is time for her to descend to the drawing-room. The bride’s carriage is invariably the last to ‘eave the house, and it contains but one yecupant besides herself—namely, her father or the person who is to give her away. With regard to the dress of the bride, it is giumply impossible to lay down atrule. It is governed by the fashion of the day, but is. always white for a maiden, and of light colors for a widow contracting a second marriage. According to the present fashion, the attire of the former is that of a white moire antique dress, with a very long train, or a plain white silk, with a lace skirt over it; wreath of orange blossoms, and Honiton lace veil, descending almost to the ground. Of course the gloves should be white, and the shoes or boots of white kid, or white satin, as the case may be. It is customary for the bride to make some little present to the bridesmaids on the wed- ding morn. ‘These should generally consist of some trifling article of jewelry—not too costly—for it should be borne in mind that ETIQUETTE OF WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS. 65 of the occasion it commemorates than for its own intrinsic worth. Should the bride reside in another city or part of the country, the bridegroom, and such of his groomsmen as are to accompany him, should reach the place the day before the ceremony. ‘They may dine at the house of the bride’s parents; but it is not etiquette for them to sleep there, even though invited to do so. They should take up their quar- ters at a hotel, or with some friend who has asked them todoso. ‘The bridegroom ought not see his bride on the happy day until he takes his place by her side for the final cere. mony. The Brid groom. It is the custom in this country for the bridegroom and his groomsmen to wear fu:' evening dress. ‘This has been described. The English custom of being married in morning dress is rapidly coming into favor in refined society. In the latter case, the dress of the bride- groom should be a blue frock or morning coat—never a black one= very light trousers and tie, and white gloves. He may also wear a small sprig of orange blossom, or some small white flower, in his button-hole. Boots may be of shining patent leather or ef kid. It is customary for him to make some lit- tle present to his best man—-say a choice scarf-pin or a signet-ring—both as a memento of the day and a slight acknowledgment of his valuable services on the occasion. He may also make a similar but less expensive present to each of his groomsmen. He is not bound to do so, however. The bridegroom should be careful to see that all his arrangements are made before. hand, especially if the wedding is te be fol: lowed by a bridal tour. ‘Tickets should be purchased beforehand, places reserved in pars the gift should be valued rather as a memento 5 lor cars and baggage checked, or had in ee ee a 77. tein Gat on Lee er ee ee er we oe Ss Pe ae ees ee ead ee esee ad a acai esa ea Nr oT cn tit er 9 ig ACN SIA . bah i aE a a ah dials ks ak LLL ak bate ig se se Pa ok eT re eI AL Ta le a ci Pel SDAA AP PALL ARS SLIMLINE een eee 86 RULES OF ETIQUETTE yeadiness for instant use. ‘To be obliged at the last moment to stop and attend to these matters is very annoying, and also prevents the bridegroom from looking after the coni- fort of his bride as he should, and takes him out of the society of his friends who are assembled to see him off, at the very time he should be on the spot to receive their parting wishes. Besides, these delays at this time may be the cause of the bridal party losing the train or boat, which would be a most awkward mishap in a wedding journey. The Marriage Ceremony. Marriage by a ma; strate is perfectly law- ful. Most persons p :fer to be married by a clergyman, and in cl .urch. The bridegroom must send a carriage at gis own expense for the officiating clergy- man and his family. Tue bride’s parents provide the carriages for themselves and the bride. Either the bridegroom or the groomsmen may bear the cost of the carriages for the pridesmaids and groomsmen. If the wedding is in church, ushers, se- lected by the friends of the bride and groom, should be appointed to show the guests to seats. They should be designated by a white rosette worn on the left lappel of the coat. The front pews in the church should be reserved for the families and especial friends of the happy pair. ‘These are generally sep- arated from the others Fy a white ribbon drawn across the aisle. The clergyman is expected to be at his place within the chancel rail at the appointed hour. Upon the arrival of the bridal party, the ushers will meet them in a body at the door, and precede them up the principal aisle of the church. Upon reaching the altar they will separate to the right and left, and take their places in the rear of the bridal party. FOR ALL OCCASIONS. | Upon the entrance of the bridal party within the doors of the church, the organist will play a “Wedding March,” aud as they take their places at the altar will change this to some low, subdued, but sweet and appropriate melody, which he should con- tinue with taste and feeling throughout the service. As. the bridal party leaye Ge church, the music should be loud and jubi- lant. The bridal party should form in the vesti bule of the church. The first groomsman gives his arm to the principal bridesmaid, and these are followed by the others in their proper order. ‘Then comes the bridegroom with the mother of the bride on his arm; and last of all the bride, leaning upon her father’s arm. At the altar the bride takes her place upon the left of the groom; her father stands a little in advance of the rest, behind the couple; her mother just in the rear of her father. The bridesmaids group themselves on the left of the bride; the groomsmen on the right of the bridegroom, all in the rear of the principals. The Ring. Where a ring is used, the first bridesmaid removes the glove of the bride. The Eng: lish very sensibly cause the bride and groom to remove their gloves before the commence- iment of the ceremony. ‘This saves an awk- ward pause. The responses of the bride and groom should be given clearly and distinctly, but not in too ‘oud a tone. As the English custom, respecting wed: dings, is being generally adopted by the best society of this country, it is well to give e description of it here. The Wedding Tour. The wedding tour should be definitely am ranged before the marriage, and the tickets purchased before the ceremony, so that theremay De no delay or confusion upon the ar- rival of the bridal party at the depot. The bride’s wishes must govern the tour in everything. Arrange your movements so that they will be leisurely. Avoid haste and bustle, and-so double the pleasure of your journey. It is well to select your hotel at the places you intend to stop, and telegraph ahead for rooms, It is best that the young couple should make the wedding tour unaccompanied by any of their friends. It relieves them of embarrassment, and enables them to devote themselves entirely to each other. Upon such occasions a third person is decidedly out of place, and is sure to feel go. Sending Cards. In some circles the young couple send out cards with their wedding invitations, stating the day and hour they will receive callers after their return from their wedding tour. No one who has not received such a card should call upon a newly married couple. Such cards should be as simple and unosten- tatious as possible. Where they are sent out the wedding journey must be terminated in time to allow the new couple to be at home at the hour indicated for the reception of their visitors. Visitors should call punctually at the time appointed. In some places it is customary ‘se offer the guests wedding-cake and wine. It is customary for the mother, sister, or some intimate friend of the bride, to assist her in receiving these calls. This rule is amperative. Wedding calls must be returned within a week. What to Do at Funerals. The great sorrow brought upon a family by the death of a loved one renders the im- ETIQUETTE OF WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS, 67 attending to the necessary arrangements fos the funeral. ‘The services of an intimate friend, or a relative, should, therefore, be sought. He should receive genetal instruc. tions from the family, after which he should take entire charge of the arrangements, and relieve them from all care on the supject. If such a person cannot be had, the arrange- ments may be placed in the hands of the in life, or of some responsible undertaker, The expenses of the funeral should be in accordance with the means of the family. No false pride should permit the relatives to incur undue expense in order to make % showy funeral. At the same time, affection will dictate that all the marks of respect which you can provide should be paid to the memory of your beloved dead, thus affording evidence of sincere grief at your loss, In some parts of the country it is custom: ary to send notes of invitation to the funeral] to the friends of the deceased and of the family. ‘These invitations should be printed, neatly and simply, on mourning paper, with envelopes to match, and should be delivered hy a private messenger. ‘The following is a correct form, the names and dates to be be changed to suit the occasion: “Yourself and family are respectfully in vited to attend the funeral of James Hill. house, on Wednesday, the 4th instant, at 2 o’clock, P. M., from his late residence, 275 Beacon Street, to proceed to Mount Vernon Cemetery.” Where the funeral is from a church, the invitation should read: “Yourself and family are respectfully ins vited to attend the funeral of James Hill. house, from the Church of the Holy Trinity, on Wednesday, the 4th instant, at 2 o’clock, P. M., to proceed to Mount Vernon Ceme mediate members of the family incapable of tery 3 sexton of the church the deceased attende@ © 7 , oT eee ee ee ee a a = a ee ee ee Far er ee ee ee ee ad ee Oe eae ™ a ee ~~ a ies Se. eS = , ee aa einai atles Te ee ice a) tease nr. ten Oa ae or Be “si tsherecereenonereceenienencawastion Zia DALAL EOE Warp, ee Aas a ; Beene ‘ : eee al A Fe Ee eee OIE oo a ENE Tn a ne am act ORO eli be me qe Petes 5 a R ; a : ik ein Ae nlp aPER MONROE SION ALON NS A BOA ANDRA NEESER PEN NE Taio ES, RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Where such invitations are sent, a list of gersons so invited must be given to the per- son in charge of the funeral, in order that he may provide a sufficient number of cat- riages. No one to whom an invitation has not been sent should attend such a funeral, nor chould those invited permit anything but an important duty to prevent their at- tendance. When the ftneral is at the house, some near relative or intimate friend should act as usher, and show the company to their seats. Preserve a decorous silence in the chamber of death—speak as little as possible, and then only in low, subdued tones. The membets of the family are not obliged to gecognize their acquaintances. The latter | | show their sympathy by their presence and considerate silence. As the casket is borne from the house to the hearse, gentlemen who may be standing at the door or in the street remove theit hats, and remain uncovered until it is placec in the hearse. The pall-bearers should be chosen from among the intimate friends of the deceased, and should correspond to him in age aud general character. With regard to sending flowers, the wishes of the family should be considered. If you are uncertain upon this point, it is safe to send them. [hey should be simple and | tasteful, also in keeping with the age of the | person who has been removed by death.How to Converse Well. ASHEN your opinion differs from that calmness, and gentleness; but never pe eager, loud, or clamorous; and, when you find yourantagonist beginning te grow warm, put an end to the dispute by some genteel stroke of humor. For, take it for granted, if the two best friends in the world dispute with eagerness upon the most trifling subject imaginable, they will, for the time, find a | momentary alienation from each other. Dise putes upon any subject are a sort of trial of the understanding, and must end in the mor- tification of one or other of the disputants. On the other hand, you need not give a universal assent to all that you hear said in company; such an assent would be mean, and in some cases criminal; but blame wth indulgence, and correct with gentleness, Have a mind of your own; do not compel any one to say to you, ‘Do, please, differ from ime, just to show that there are two of us.” Always look people in the face when you speak to them; not doing it is thought to imply conscious guilt; besides that, you lose | tne advantage of observing by their counte- mances, what impression your discourse makes upon thei. When you find your temper rising, resolve neither to speak to, nor answer the person who excites it; but stay till you find it sub- siding, and then speak deliberately, En- geavor to be cool and steady upon all occa- sions; the advantages of such 2 steady calmness are innummerable, and would be tedious to relate, Jt may be acquired by | reason which distinguishes men from brutes would be given us to very little purpose. | You scarcely ever heard of a Quaker ir g passion, There is in that sect a decorum and decency, and an amiable simplicity known in no other. Witticisms at the Expense of Others. If you have wit (which I am not sure that I wish you, unless you have at the same time | an equal portion of judgment to keep it in | good order), wear it like a sword in the i ; Scabbard, and do not brandish it to the | terror of the whole company. Wit is 2 | shining quality, that everybody admires: | most people aim at it, all people fear it, and few love it, unless in themselves A man | must have a good share of wit himself, te | endure a great share in another. When wit | exerts itself in satire, it is a most malignant | distemper; wit, it is true, may be shown in | satire, but satire does not constitute wit, as | many imagine. A man of wit ought to find | a thousand better occasions of showing {*. | Abstain, therefore, most carefully from satire; which, though it fall on no particular petson in the company, and momentarily, from the malignancy of the human heart, pleases all; yet, upon reflection, it frightens all. Every one thinks if may be his ture next; and will hate you for what he finds you could say of him, more than be obliged tc you for what you do not say. Fear and | hatred ate next-door neighbors: the more wit you have, the more good-nature an¢ politeness you must show, te induce people ey | care and reflection; if it could not, that of others, maintain it with modesty, | e ee ee ere Pa ka eh : ee pcm es a ee re ~ ee - Se ip PRINT AM. YD. Bo Be a eae os Pe ee on ee ed al érf cs ‘é 5 ut s v rs ~ Pu mone TN ey ee maaan ea. ee Cees Bet a 1 ON SE NINN Tan Oe Mane kee ae ses oe et Rr Sea eonre yoarieet ey SUEDE et ne Le Oe ae ’ ete re : : " ‘ 5 CHEMI RARE A IOS SAN alc ls ‘ai See eee eas aa ie a ad eT geri Ce Aa ae ty tk Steal ae a bak SNE 70 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. bo pardon your superiority; for that 1s no easy matter. Appear to have rather less than more wit than you really have. A wise man will live at least as much within his wit as his income. Content yourself with good sense and reason, which at the long run are ever sure to please everybody who has either; if wit comes tnto the bargain, welcome it, but never invite it. Bear this truth always in your mind, that you may be admired for your wit, if you have any; but that nothing but good sense and good qualities can make you be beloved. ‘These are substantial every day’s qwear; whereas, wit is a holiday suit, which people put on chiefly to be stared at. Avoid Raillery. There is a species of minor wit, which is much used, and much more abused; I meati rai“ery. It isa most mischievous and danger- 74s weapon when in unskillful and clumsy vands; and it is much safer to let it quite alone than to play with it; and yet almost everybody plays with it, though they see daily the quarrels and heart-burnings that it occasions. st, A little too strong, it may be mistakes into an offence; and a little too smooth, i# my be thought a sneer, which is a most odious thing. You Can be Agreeable if not Brilliant. It is not given to every man to bea brillian: talker, or to express himself in writing with elegance or force. There is, however, no reason why any person who goes into society should be ignorant of the rules of polite in- tercourse, or fail to master all the customary forms of address. It is almost usel’ess to say that your con- versation should be adapted to your com- pany: that is, nevertheless, the golden rule on this subject. Avoid politics and religion, and all topics likely to excite argument, or to lead to warmth of feeling or expression. Talk of yourself and your own affairs as little as possible. ‘Those of the personages you are addressing are sure to interest them far more. Above all, never drag in the names of distinguished persons to whom you may be related or who may be num- bered among your friends; nothing is more The injustice of a bad man is sooner for- | : vulgar or offensive. ‘To speak of your own given than the insults of a witty one; the | former only hurts one’s liverty and property 5 but the latter hurts and mortifies that secret pride which no human breast is free from. | True, there is a sort of raillery which may not only be inoffensive, but even flattering ; as when, by a geuteel irony, you accuse people of those imperfections which they are cz most notoriously free from, and consequently 4nsinuate that they possess the contrary virtues. You may safely call Aristides a knave, o1 a very handsome woman an ugly one. Take exploits, or to give illustrations of your OW prowess and sagacity, is also offensive. Restrain any desire to shine, and be most particular not to monopolize the conversa: tion. It is presumptuous in one person to attempt to lead the conversation, much more to monopolize it. Offensive Flattery. Avoid whatever is personal in tone or allt sion; neither flatter nor make observations of an offensive character; do not even indulge in joking unless with friends, who will not f x ° ithe } ’ ae : . care, however, that neither the man's char- | be likely to put a false construction on your acter, nor the lady’s beauty, be in the least doubtful. But this sort of raillery requires a very light and steady hand to administer words, or to take in earnest what you mean in sport. De not speak in a loud voice, or assume &dictatorial manner. made which you know to be incorrect or unirue, be very careful of the manner in which you correct the speaker. charge him with having made a willful mis- statement; suggest a correction, rather than make it; and if the point in question is immaterial it is best to let it pass unnoticed. If addressed in an offensive tone, or if an objectionable manner is adopted towards - you, it is best not to notice it; and even | e e € 4 when you perceive an intention to annoy or insult, either pass it over for the time, or take an opportunity of withdrawing, Such | a thing as a “‘scene” is, above all things, to | be avoided, Talk Plain English. Do not interlard your conversation with | French and other languages, If you are | tempted into a quotation from a foreign or Classic language apologize to the company for its use, or translate it; but not in such a | mannet as to convey the idea that you are } glad to display your Jearning, or that your hearers are in need of such translation. Puns and slang terms are te be avoided as much as possible. And remember there are various kinds of slang: there is the slang of the drawing-room as will as that of the lower classes, or of out-door life. Every profession bas its own technical terms and set of ex- pressions, which should be avoided in general society. Should a person enter the room in which you are convitsing, and the conversation be continued after his arrival, it is only courteous to acquaint him with the nature of the sub- | ject to which it relates, and to give him an idea of what has passed. In conversing with either superiors or | equals do not address them by name, If they are persons of rank or title, do not say, HOW TO CONVERSE WELL. If any statement is | Never | Gi Mr. President ;” thoug’: you may occasion- ally make use of some such a phrase ag “You will perceive, Colonel,” “You will understand, Governor.” Avoid the too fre quent use of “ Sir,” or “ Madam,” and beware of addressing a comparative acquaintance ag “ My dear sir,” or “My dear madam.” Ip speaking of third persons always use the prefix “Mr.” or “Mrs.” to their names; de not refer to them by their initials, as Mr. or Mrs. B. Never allude to any oneasa “party! or a “gent”; and, above all, refrain from any of the vulgarisms to which some persons have recourse when they cannot recollect | the name of a person, place, or thing. Can anything be more inelegant or atrocious than such a sentence as this? “ Oh, Jones, I met what’s-his-name driving that what-is-it of his, down by the—you know—-close to what: you-call1m’s house.” Yet this kind of re. mark is heard every day. Short Answers. Never give short or sharp answers in ardic mary conversation. ‘T’o do so is simply rude. “Ydo sot know,” or “I cannot tell,” are | the most harmless words possible, and yet they may be rendered very offensive by the tone and manner in which they are pro- nounced, Never reply~-in answer to a ques tion like the following, ‘Did Mrs. Grundy tell you how Miss Clifton’s marriage was get: ting on?”—“T did not ask.” It is almost like saying, I never ask impertinent ques- tions, though you do; w learn plenty of things in the world without having first in- guired about them. If you must say, you did not ask, say, that “you forgot to ask,” “neglected it,” or “did not think of it.” We cau always be ordinarily civil, even it we cannot always be absolutely wise, Express yourself simply and ¢learls. Avoid all attempts at elegance or pomposity. “Ves, Colonel,” “No, Governor,” “Of course. | Use the shortest and plainest words you can, oy er . x ee ee ee ed iene eal * “ Ce aePeieebe Tae ee eae cal dl ai ek oe Re Se oe Doel eka Fe ad ne Re Aaa SAA PD OL EE aa in a a AEF Sl LOS be caanthenacwranenancecese . eee i Brn f gene SPAY : aaa eee ee 5 a Ss Tei Sik Cra NL Cea aa ae aa tod neo CO ea ee ee ee OL Aa AA PSL ? ee SEN ‘ aut i Ne IS a pes Cais R uO 2 ade Lo nelle Sarr ae 72 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. and when you have said what you desire to say, Stop. Speak in a distinct, well-modulated voice, but avoid loud talking. A low, sweet voice is one of a woman’s greatest charms, and will never fail to win her the admiration of men. Mothers should beware of praising oF talking much of their children in company. Such topics, though interesting to them- selves, are tedious to others. Mere courtesy will prevent your visitor from differing with you, but he will be glad to discontinue the conversation. Remember “ brevity is the soul of wit;” | therefore “speak little, but speak well, if you would be thought a person of good sense.” Ancient Anecdotes. Be catitious in relating anecdotes. Unless you can relate a story with ease and effect, it ’s better not to attempt it. Avoid laughing at your own wit. Habitual relaters of anec- dotes are apt to become great bores. Do not mimic the peculiarities, infirmities, or short-comings of others in general society. You may give offence to some one present who is a friend of the person car’catured. Do not speak of what passes in a house that you are visiting. You need not tell all the truth unless to those who have a right to know it all. But let all you tell be truth. Do not offer advice unless you know it will be followed. Beware, however, of ade vising an angry or an opinionated person. Be cautious as to asking questions. The reply may be very embarrassing to the per- son of whom the question is asked. Do not volunteer information, especially in public; but be very sure you are correct in what you state as facts. Do not sit dumb in company, but beats your share in the general conversation. De this with modesty and self-possession, neither thrusting yourself forward, nor hesitating where you should speak. It is better to be a good listener than a good talker. a A Prudent Reserve. It is not necessary to express your opin: ions upon all subjects; but if you give utterance to them, do so fearlessly, frankly, and with courteous regard for the opinions of others. ‘The greater your learning, the more modest should be your manner o! expressing it. When we speak of ourselves and anothe! person, whether he is absent or present, pro priety requires us to mention ourselves last. Thus we should say, ‘he and I,” “you and I.” Do not indulge in words or phrases of double meaning. ‘To do so is to dtaw upor yourself the contempt of those who hear you. Avoid exaggerated expressions. Speak | simply, and with moderation, or men will doubt your statements. Always be good-tempered. Nothing is se 44> At > - cr namie + “42 r agreeable or so useful 1m society, as a pleasant, even temper. What may be very entertaining in com 4 7, { yany with ignorant people a o I AL. yy ~ to those who are better informed than you! self. Iu conversing with a lady, do not appear; to bring your conversation down to her level. Sensible women detest “small talk,” and re gard with contempt the man who appears te think they cannot converse intelligently upor | subjects generally treated of in society. Be lenient to the weakness and foibles of your friends. Remember that you need * like forbearance from them.CHAPTER X. Etiquette of Correspondence, CORRESPONDENCE between two persons, is simply a conversation reduced to writing; in which one party says all that he has to communicate, replies to preceding inquiries, and, in his turn, proposes questions, without interrup- tion by the other; who takes precisely the Saine course in hisanswer. Weshould write to an absent person, as we would speak to the same party if present. ‘To a superior, we ought to be respectful; to a parent, duti- ful and affectionate; to a friend, frank and easy; and clear and definite in our expres- sions to all. Conciseness is one of the charms of letter-writing: we do not mean to say that a fetter should not contain sufficient facts, ideas, and feelings; but they ought to be as briefly expressed as perspicuity and elegance will permit. If we encumber an idea with ver- biage, it loses its power. There are some persons who, when they express a feeling, or a thought, of which simplicity should be the charm, clothe it with all the verbal treasures they possess: this is like wearing one’s whole wardrobe at once; the figure is jost in a mass of drapery. Lengthened periods are as much out of place in a letter as they would be in conver- gation, of which letters may be called the prototype; for they tire the reader even more than they would the hearer: when written, their faults are also perceived with much less difficulty than when spoken. ‘The style, of course, may rise with the subject; but gli narade of words should be dropped ip a familiar epistle. ‘The death of a friend o1 relation, a calamity, or any circumstance of grave importance, should not be communi- cated in the same manner as a trifling occur- rence, or even a happy event: brevity, in these cases, is beauty; in chose it would be demed unfeeling and abrupt. To an absent friend, an elaborate letter will be most welcome: a stranger, a superior, or a person of whom the writer seeks some: thing, will recoil from a ‘folio of four pages,* and, perhaps throw it aside unread, or, at best, but slightly skimmed over. When the party, to whom a letter is addressed, is unin- terested in the subject on which it is written, the writer of it should display a brevity, which will attract attention, and insure a perusal ; no unnecessary ornament should be used, nor, in fact, anything introduced but what is import- ant and bears strongly on the case stated, or the inquiry made. All those little personal details and trifling circumstances which are so delightful in @ letter from a friend, would fatigue and dis- gcust a stranger, to whom they are destitute of interest. We should never suffer ours selves to be seduced to adopt a fine-sounding epithet unless we are perfectly well acquainted with its meaning; or to indulge in a simile, unless we are capable of wielding it with ease, It is dangerous to meddle with fine phrases, if we are unaccustomed to the manner of using them. A person who, by invariably keeping within the beaten path, and never running astray after “the butterflies of lan- guage,” had been accounted, by b* corre - oe x BRA ES pes rs eee eee Cm COS ee oe er Pa ne RN ee ( Ss f m CRIS ET 5 . . Sn es S . ee F . me a Pe emi ae ee ieee eee a ea ee | a — Rep AG . 5 " ! rs 3 mM - i - ml = “T * P ad a ey ay ee alae) wean ea oN La 2 ee Dee ne EA eR LES PD old ol a ak bk 5 MIN Ry Nee PISA TONE ES NE ORCUTT Nm J ic Bi! See PEE ee ue f RASA Ba cc eh aR Us mee ee D250 Gran SLY aaa ag Read ak el Se Oa ee ee ee oe Siracaiearee 4, RULES OF ETIQUETTE spondents, a plain, sensible sort of man, destroyed his reputation by a congratulatory apistle on a friend’s marriage, written ina style which he, doubtless, considered of great elevation and beauty. No one had ever sus- pected him to be a blockhead before; but the letter in question was evidence enough to convict him, even in the opinions of his most partial friends. You Should Write as You would Speak. In all epistolary correspondence, the choice of embellishments, the language, subjects, matter and manner, in general, should, as in conversation, be governed by the relative situations in life, as to age, rank, character, etc., of the parties addressed and addressing. A lady neither writes nor speaks to a gentle- man as she would to one of her own sex, and a gentleman addresses a lady in astyleof more eourteousness and respect than he does a male correspondent. The language of a mother to a daughter is very different trom that of a daughter to her mother. In our first letter to a peison, as on our Grst introduction, we should be respectful, and by no means familiar. The distance which either age, rank, sex, or any other cir- cumstance, occasions, ought always to be re- membered. We should never forget what we are, aud what the person is whom we ad- | dress. We should say only precisely what ought to be said—should write, in fact, with the same restrictions as we would speak, supposing the party present whom we ad- | dress; and should bear in mind, that our letters are, in every respect, representat.ons of our own persous—that they may be said to speak for us; and that an estimate of our sharacter and manners is frequently formed from the style and language of our epistles. How frequently do we hear persons ex- plaiming, that they do not know what to grite about! Such an observation is a dis- FOR ALL OCCASIONS. erace to the person who makes it, Were the mother, the sister, the cousin, friend, o1 even acquaintance, to enter the room in which you are sitting at an escrutoire, with a blank sheet of paper before you, would you have nothing to say? Would you have nothing to communicate? Nothing to im quire? No hitherto unanswered question te reply to? ‘There is but little doubt that a host of facts, feelings, questions, and answers, would crowd to your Kps for utterance. But it will, perhaps, be observed by sr me, that “there is such a difference between talk- » ‘Truly so; the great dif ference is, that in this, the pen—in that, the toungue—is the agent of expression. What ever we should say to a person present, we inay write if absent. ‘There is, of course, a ing and writing.’ choice of subjects to be made, and a proper inode to be chosen of communicating them. To regulate that choice, we should select as though the friend, to whom we are writing, were by our side, and could remain with us but a short time. In that case we should speak only of those things which were of the greatest importance, and express them at once as clearly and concisely as possible; and pleasantly, didactically, modestly, feel- ingly, or otherwise, according to their nature aud the party whom we address. Letters of Compliment, Inquiry, and Con. gratulation. Politeness, and the forms of society, fre- yuently require us to write letters of com- pliment, inquiry, or condolence, to those with whom we are upon the slightest pos- sible terms of intimacy. Such letters, which are generally supposed to be the most difficult, are, in fact, the most easy of execution; for the circumstance which calls for the letter, affords us a subject; to this the letter must be restricted. It is true, that there is a graceful manneof framing an inquiry and making a com- pliment, and this manner it is vain to seek for, by labor, at the moment the letter is required ; if it be difficult to compose, it will seem studied, heartless, and inelegant in ex- pression. Simplicity and ease impart the thief grace that can be given to a condoling or complimentary note. Jealousy to be Avoided. A letter of congratulation should be as the thornless rose: the least app arance of envy, or jealousy, at the good fortune of those whom we felicitate, is unpardonable; it should contain no hint of any hope that the advancement, or change of situation, upon which tae compliment is made, may afford the person addressed the means of conferring a benefit on the party writing. Itshould, in fact, be an unmixed expression of pleasure and congratulation on the event that calls for its production. Care must, nevertheless, be taken to keep within due bounds; to ex- aggerate in our congratulations, is to become keenly satirical. In a letter of congratulation we should be cheerful; from an epistle of condolence all pleasantry should be banished: to exhibit the wit which we possess, at such a tiine, is like smiling at a funeral, to display a beauti- ful set of teeth. When addressing a person who is laboring under any grievous cal- amity, it is bad taste to make light of it; by treating that loss as a matter which a little firmness would enable the party who has suffered it, to endure calmly, we irritate, rather than soothe. It is better to enter into the feelings of the mourner—to eulogize the departed relation—to rebuke the ingrati- tude of the false friend—to confess the inconstancy of fortune, or otherwise, accord- ing to the circumstances; and, without magnifying, to lament the affliction. ETIQUETTE OF CORRESPONDENCE. A celebrated lady, in a letter of conddl ence to.a friend, uses this language :—“ The inore I think on the loss you have just met with, the greater it appears, and the more if affects me. He was, indeed, worthy of be- ing the head of such a family as yours, and can never be replaced! We have every rea- son to believe that he is happy; we should weep for ourselves, therefore, rather than for him. My heart grieves for your situation; it will be long ere you can console yourself for such a separation. If I were mistress of my own actions, I would certainly abandon every thing to be near you.” This language is balm to the wounded mind, which rejects consolation from those who do not seem sensible of the extent of the sorrow under which it labors. Such a subject must, nevertheless, be treated with a delicate hand, for, by exaggeration, we should aggravate rather than console. Letters of Recommendation. A letter of recommendation is a letter of business, and should be composed with care: it isa guarantee to the extent of language, for the party recommended; truth, there- fore, should never be sacrificed to condescen- sion, false kindness or politeness. To write a letter of recommendation contrary to one’s own opinion and knowledge of the person recommended, is to be guilty of a great imprudenice. ‘To say all that is necessary, in a clear and distinct manner, and nothing more, is the grand merit of a letter on business. Pleas- antry and pathos would be greatly misplaced in it, unless it be of a mixed nature; that is, necessarily, or properly, embracing some other subject. Brilliant diction is a dress in which directions ou business should never be clothed. ‘The style ought to be precise, suf ficiently copious, but not redundant. Every thing neetessary should be stated, plainly anc EAPC. Cea ee Ned : ‘ ~ ime WE sae Ne ee , re - eet er ee ( aA Se a ie as . ; o RD Si Bi Bie ne So PPP IOI eS Dn PE pe Met ne ON a ieee CP ieee. q MEAP IIR ES Ce ee a ehraaneae iin e Ce DE ee aan ral are oe ee eee ne eer re i . ae s oo 4 : ? a 2 . - 2 a. 76 RULES OF ETIQUETTE aneqttivocally; so that the party addressed may be in full possession of our desires and opinions, on the subject of our correspond- ence. Ambiguity is nowhere so unpardon- able as in a letter on business. Letters of Advice. It is a maxim with the discreet, never to give advice until they have been thrice asked for it; in many instances, to volunteer it, is to be offensive to those whom you wish to benefit; it is much more pleasant to give than to receive it. Unsolicited counsel is a bitter draught; and even those who crave your opinions, will feel themselves offended | if you be forward, as well as frank, in reply- ing to them. A mendicant implored alms ; the party whom the unfortunate man ad- dressed, instead of relieving his necessities, told him he was strong and youthful, and should rather work, than live by begging. “asked you for money,” replied the mendi- cant, “not for advice.” People, in general, are but too prone to take the same course : they are applied to for succor, and, in return, they give counsel. A friend should, perhaps, give advice to a friend, if he should see occasion to do so, however unpalatable it may be; but, in gen- eral, we cannot be too sparing of our counsel. It is a foolish, but not an uncommon prac- tice, to ask advice on an act which has been performed, as young folks sometimes engage themselves to be married, and then ask advice of the old folks; in such a case it is useless, in reply, to adopt such terms as © Lf 3 I had the direction of the affair, I would have acted otherwise ;” or, “I would rather you had done so and so.” If you cannot approve what is irrevocable, be silent upon the subject. If, however, you should be, in some measure, compelled to give yow counsel, be prodigal of conciliatory, an? sparing of positive, phrases. © With another FOR ALL OCCASIONS. deference to your own judgment, it seems te me;” ‘I may be mistaken ; you are, doubt- less, the best qualified to judge ; I, therefore, merely submit,” and similar expressions, wil! save you from being offensive, and, at the same time, afford you a graceful manner of expressing the opinions which your con- science dictates on the occasion. Use of the Third Person. It is 2 matter of surprise, that any person who has received a tolerable education, ane is at all versed in. the forms of good society, should fall into so gross an error, as to use the first person ut the conclusion of a note which has been commenced in the third; and yet this is sometimes the case. For example: ‘‘Miss Johnson presents her com: pliments to Mr. Brooks, and begs to be in formed at what hour Mr. Brooks intends to start for Philadelphia to-morrow, as I particu- larly wish to see him befere his departure; Such negligence and inelegance are so obvious, and remain, sir, yours sincerely,” etc. that they may be easily avoided. Notes written in the third person, are frequently rendered ambiguous, and some- times quite unintelligible, by a confusion of the personal pronouns; which, unless the sentences be carefully constructed, seem to apply equally well to the writer as to the receiver. There is a French anecdote re lated, of a rather ludicrous mistake arising from the ambiguity of a letter written by one friend to another, in the third person. Monsieur A. addressed Monsieur B. whe dwelt at some distance from the town where Monsieur A. resided, in these terms :— “Monsiettr A. presents his compliments te his friend, Monsieur B., and has the satis- faction of informing him, that he has just been appointed, by government, to the luc- tative and honorable post of, etc. [naming the office], in his native town,” On receiptof this letter, B. posted, with all possible speed, to throw himself at the feet of A., and, with the warmest expressions of grati- tude, thanked his supposed benefactor. A. was amazed, and earnestly inquired the cause of B.’s raptures. “How!” exclaimed B., “have I not sufficient reason to be grateful? Have you not obtained for me the important post of so and so?” “Not at all, my dear friend,” replied A., “it is 7 who have been appointed to the office; and I wrote to acquaint you of the circumstance, thinking you would be happy to hear of your old companion’s excellent fortune.” B. perused the note again, and discovered that, like one of the ancient oracles, it contained two inean- ings which were directly opposite to each other. Notes written in the third person, are fre- quently used, on ordinary occasions, between equals in age or rank, to make a reply to any request ; to convey civil inquiries, or compli- ments, etc. For these and similar purposes, this form is elegant and unexceptionable. Manner of Replying to Letters. r~ 7 o . * | Every letter, that is not insulting, merits a reply, if it be required or necessary. All the preceding observations, with regard to rank, age, ete., are, of course, applicable to replies. If the letter contains a request, accede to it gracefully, and without ostenta- ‘ion, or refuse without harshness. An answer 9 a letter of condolence, or congratulation, should be grateful. The subjects should succeed each other in proper order; and the juestions put, be cousecutively answered. In ‘familiar correspondence, a greater latitude of arrangement is allowed ; but even in this, no question should be leit unanswered. In all replies, it is usual to ack aowledge the receipt, and to mention the date, of the last letter received: this should be an invariable rile; ETIQUETTE OF CORRESPONDENCE. by neglecting it, your correspondent may be | 77 left in doubt; or very properly deem you guilty of offensive inattention. Correct Punctuation. Punctuation is a matter of the utmost importance in every species of literary com- position ; it has been properly termed, the very marshalling and arranging of the words of a language; without it, there can be no clearness, strength, or accuracy. Its utility consists in separating the different portions of what is written, in such a manner that the subjects may be properly classed and subdivided, so as to convey the precise mean- ing of the writer to the reader; to show the relation which the various parts bear to each other; to unite such as ought to be con- nected, and keep apart such as have no mutual dependence. It is 2 circumstance very much to be lamented, that so little attention is paid to punctuation. As there is no positive system of punctuation to direct the writer, the modern editions of good authors should be carefully studied, in order to acquire the leading principles of the science. The cons struction of sentences may be examined, and the mode adopted of dividing them, attended to with considerable advantage. Itis a good plan, for improvement in pointing, to copy a page of some standard work, without capi- tals or points; and, after it has been laid aside for a few days, to endeavor to write it again with the proper points; by a subse- quent comparison with the original, the writer may discover his errors, and guard against similar blunders in his future exer cises. It is not to be expected that he will attain, by these, or any other means, the power of pointing a page, in complete ac- cordance with a printed work ; but he will, no doubt, acquire a degree of knowledge and experience in punctuation, which cannot canal d nT ee Oe et Beat aceR A en ee Re ee Be hart eat ae Co ee 3 Saar aenrere N APS ee ee Pe eC eal ae tad Br IRCA Pefi 5 f iS hd . bi i Po ae ee any ee aimed em NL 1 et sn i ee MD Pe en NP EAR a Na aa a ak LITT at tel gOS bak oy ee Sey PRE Eaane oN Pose RA A o RE Ente . ar 7 ae d Se ere MSs a as a Sa eee ce Se ee oe oR ES SD asc tein cere EO AIS POM Ln aaah eC EE 78 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. fail to be of considerable utility to him in his future epistolary productions. In order to show the necessity of not merely using points, but punctuating prop- etly, the following passage from a work on this subject, in which it is given asa study, but without any key, is submitted to the reader : “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Link a clergyman his son a lawyer Mr. Boscat a foreigner his lady and a little child.” As this passage stands, without points, it is unintelligible: by different modes of punctuating it, several alterations may be made in its sense; not only as to the number of persons in the coach, but, also, as to their country, professions and relationship to each other. By a change of points, the lady may be described as the wife of either one of two persons; Mr. Link’s son may be made a clergyman or a lawyer, at will; or his son may be taken from him and given to a clergyman, whose naine is not mentioned. We shall give three or four different modes of punctuating this passage. The reader may, if he think fit, amuse, and, at the same time, convince himself of the propriety of attending to the proper use of stops, by a number of variations;—each of them cor- rect in itself, at the same time, endowing the words with a different signification : “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Link, a clergyman, his son, a lawyer, Mr. Boscat, a foreigner, his la*y and a little child.” By this mode of pointing, it would appear that there were eight individuals in the coach; namely—a clergyman, a lawyer, a foreigner and his lady, a little child, Mr. Link, Mr. Boscat, and the clergyman’s son. “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Boscat, a foreigner; his lady; and a little child.” This change in the punctuation would reduce the parties in the coach, exclusive of the lady and child, to three persons, and make Mr. Link himself a clergyman, Mr. Link’s son a lawyer, and Mr. Boscat a for- eigner. ‘The persons inside the coach were Mr. Link; a clergyman, his son; a lawyer, M1. Boscat ; a foreigner, his lady, and a little child.” Here Mr. Link’s son becomes a clergy- yman, Mr. Boscat a lawyer, and the lady and child those of a foreigner, who is nameless. ‘The persons inside the coach were Mr. Link; a clergyman, his son; a lawyer; Mr. Boscat; a foreigner, his lady ; and a little child.” Mr. Boscat here ceases to be a lawyer; there is no longer a foreigner who is the hus: band of the lady and the father of the child; but the lady is described as being a foreigner, and Mr. Boscat’s wife; and the child is not understood as being akin to any person in the coach. Droll Mistakes. Many laughable errors of mispia punctuation, words and clauses of sentences, might be mentioned. A tourist writing from Switzerland said: ‘The distance was too great for a donkey to travel, therefore I did not attempt it.’ If anyone had called this traveller what he here calls himself, he would probably have considered himself grossly insulted. Another writer stated that ‘a copy of Macaulay’s History of England was sold by the auctioneer bound in calf” It is not likely that the auctioneer considered himself complimented by the assertion that he was bound in this kind of material. Link, a clergyman; his son, a lawyer: Mr A local newspaper contained the astonish-ing statement: ‘ We have just built a school- house for girls four stories high.” ‘The girls in this place were remarkably tall or else the writer intended to say, ‘We have just built a new school-house four stories high for girls.” A woman wrote, ‘I wish to sell my piano, for I am going to Europe in a rosewood case with carved legs.” It is diffi- cult to determine which had the “carved legs’’—the piano, the rosewood case, or the woman. A clergyman wrote, “A young woman died yesterday while I was preaching in the street in a state of beastly intoxication.” It is supposed that he intended to say that a young woman died yesterday in the street, in a state of beastly intoxication, while he was preaching, for it is not to be be ieved that a clergyman was beastly drunk. Another minister wrote, ‘I well remem- ber when I was riding across the prairie with my beloved wife who has long since gone to heaven in a buggy.” As there are doubts about the beloved woman making her exit from this world in a buggy, it is presumed that the clergyman was riding across the prairie in a buggy with his beloved wife, and that subsequent to that event she took her departure heavenward. A school report says, “There should be some improvement in the internal arrange- ments of the primary school-room, as many of the seats have long been occupied by small children that have no backs.” As “small children that have no backs” would prob- ably be too feeble to attend school, it is supposed that the seats were without backs, not the children. An advertisement reads, “A gentleman would let his house, going abroad, to a small family with modern improvements.” i345 difficult to know what modern improvements there have been in small families, or how a ETIQUETTE OF CORRESPONDENCR. 79 house would look going abroad, so we con. clude that the improvement belongs to the house, and that it is the gentleman who is going abroad. These errors are constantly occurring, even in letters of educated persons, and a lengthy chapter might be written upon the subject. There are also errors of contradiction of terms, vulgarly called “bulls,” such as the statement of the Irishman, who said, ‘The empty seats are all full, and the next time I ride in that car, ll walk, sure.” A request was handed into the pulpit as follows: “A man going to sea, his wife de- sires the prayers of the congregation for his safety.” ‘The pastor, in the dimness of old age, startled the congregation by reading, “A man going to see his wife, desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety.” A lady sent a note to a neighbor as follows: “Mrs. Robinson would like to know how old, Mrs. Parsons is to-day ;” and received a reply from the younger Mrs. Parsons in the family, saying, ‘‘she did not think her age was any business of the neighbors.” ‘The fact was, Mrs. Robinson had put a comma after old, and the younger Mrs. Parsons did not realize that the inquiry was concern- ing the health of her aged mother-in-law. A toast was given at a public dinner as “ TVoman, without her, man is a brute,” but the printer spoiled the sentiment by misplacing a comma, and it became “woman without her maz, 1s a brute.” follows: Postscripts. The ladies have been accused, probably with some reason, of reserving the most important part of a letter for the postscript ; they should endeavor to avoid giving cause for being thus reproached. Postscripts are, for the most part, needless, and in bad taste. Pause a few moments before you conclude a letter, and reflect whether you have any eS Rees ee ed - . Ee y aR -~ " te ew . s cee ee : Se ee rer Se Ky a " ey ee Pe ee a oo z ee he ee , lines Ses ; , » ee ee ‘ ° i aad Ls me : ee ¥ Pal neeoD te ay ie alc -al aba a Oe eee ON NE ES LID IN Mit "Sin Dent So? 5 5 Dae eRe SE a Ra nl ad hE Stl ba ere Oe eee i DO ee RS SRE EN ae ae ee ag neat eR COR BIA ESN ao Oa aa “— Pe a aebesePa s Soe 80 RULES OF ETIQUETTE thing more to say. Above all things, do not defer civilities, or kind inquiries, for any friend or acquaintance, to this justly-despised fart of a fetter. To do so, is a proof of thoughtlessness or disrespect. “My kindest regards to my cousin Frances,” with a P. 5. before it, looks like what it really is—an after-thought; and 1s, therefore, not only without value, but, to persons of fine feel- ings, offensive. The Proper Form 02 Address. The style of address should vary to suit the person addressed. Jn writing to strangers, you should address them.as. “Sit,” of “Madam,” ending the letter wath, ‘ Your pbedient servant.” ‘To those with whom you are tolerably acquainted, you should say, ‘‘ Dear Sir,” or, “ Dear Madam,” ending your letter with ‘“ Yours faithfully.” ‘To your intimate friends, you should say, ‘‘ My dear Sir,” or, ‘“‘ My dear Madam,” ending the letter with, “Yours truly,” “ Yours very truly,” ‘“‘ Yours sincerely,” or, ‘‘ Yours very sincerely.” It is allowable to use che form, ‘* My dear Sir,” even to strangers; but it is always best to be cautious in this matter. In addressing a clergyman, use the form, | “ Reverend and dear Sir.” To a bishop say, | ‘Rieht Reverend and dear Sir.” Custom has made it proper, in addressing the President of the United States, or the Governor of a State of the Union, to use the form, “Your Excellency.” It is proper, in addressing the President, to say, “ Mr. Presi- dent,” which is his official title. The Vice- President is addressed as “The Honorable.” Cabinet officers and heads of departments are addressed as follows: ‘The Honorable | , Secretary of the Treasury,” etc. The Chief Justice of the United States is addressed as “The Honorable ——, Chief Justice of the United States.” FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Members of the two Houses of Congress, members of the Legislatures of States, and all judges of courts of law and justice, are entitled to be addressed as “‘ The Honorable.” Officers of the army and navy are addressed by their titles, as “ General Nelson A. Miles,” “ Captain ..” “Admiral ) ete ‘he members of the faculty of a college are addressed as “ Professor,” and where they possess an additional title, such as “‘ D. D.,” “LL. D.,” ete. it is added after the name, as, ‘Prof. Theophilus Dwight, LL. Db,’ Ordinary persons are addressed as “ Mr.,” “Mrs.” or “ Miss.” Gentlemen are some times called “‘Esqr.”” You may write “ James Jarman, Esqr.,” or “ Mr. James Jarman,” as you think best, but both titles must not be employed at once. In addressing the minister or ambassador accredited from a foreign country to the United States, it is customary to use the form “Your Excellency,” giving him also his full title, which must be previously ascer- tained. In England, where the constitution of society requires exactness in the use of titles, the following are the forms used : A letter to the Queen should begin, “ Madam,” “ Most Gracious Sovereign,” of ) “ May it please your Majesty.” The envelope should be addressed, “To the Queen’s Mast ‘xcellent Majesty.” A letter to the Prince of Wales should begin, ‘“‘ Your Royal Highness.” ‘The envel- ope should be addressed, ‘‘’I'o His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales.” A letter to a member of the Royal family should begin, “Sir,” or, ‘‘ Madam,” or, “Your Royal Highness.” The envelope should be addressed, “‘’To His Royal High- ness the Duke of Edinburgh,” “To Her Royal Highness the Princess Mary ot Teck,” ) ete.CHAPTER XI Proper Forms for Letters (> VERY person who has much corres- pondence to attend to, will appre- ciate the convenience of having forms of well-written letters at hand for the vari- ous occasions on which such forms required. are If you are averse to copying these, they will nevertheless be suggestive, auid give an idea as to the subject matter of epistolary communications, and the manve: of writing them. These letters are grouped under various heads for the convenience of persons desiring to use them. Business letters may be found in a subse quent part of this work, where they properly belong. Nell, fone 10, 18e7 Your letter og Maw a7th comer to VC] bike aw breath fram YOUL CULH ottd beyond Y the Len, Gelecis Wwe, Jf Lecu Atoc ate Le Bote good wtihber awd take ee eeceabian te. LEenweuwr thawe sentimente of Leshectl and adte ction tor gouriell, wtetote ct tak Geen vv v My dtiuclege Ce enxtertarw for ea long, Cy g 6 tiuve See Likes, bk .y PMs of exacting bakaty ohh, ol oy Vm —— ldenw atic: for « y“wonKwr pr CUO nal Keelt om, CY Swett, we har ecw vee WEE doer ned turt, but: fee bgt Wwe, eye, Cenk, are! Me h CUELY good UWLLW SS and e+e Cees oS 4, You ti mort sincerely, He. prune Si Fields, Borstan, Mews Fars ew b tck fora ee es SO er LN Pp a a Ne ial SS ee ene : ra en Fa i : eae : ee ane ee ee - m e - ™ am PPB ALDI eG ee ee > med Rls __e. _—_ ad ee ee hae an ena i erAS + y BX a a ¥ | e “2 rk @ 3 5 é BS é La $ : a : . 4 =) 8 a Poet Sony aw ae Me Be Mah PA PD el Ieee ER aa a a APT id tal OS ba Se atoll ah ReNE IC 2 3 = a ct ee 4 aS 5 ee a ae Rd 3 ad bt 3 A # : bs i: : 63 (HE ANSWER RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. FAMILY LETTERS. Boston, February 7, My DEAR CHILD: Although we are separated in person, yet you are never absent from my thoughts : and it is my continual practice to recommend you to the care of that Being, whose eyes are on all his creatures, and to who the secrets of aii hearts are open : but I have beer lately somewhat alarmed, because your two last letters do not run in that strain 0! unaffected piety as formerly. What, my dear, is this owing to? Is your beneficent Creator a hardmaster, or are you resolved to embark 1n the fashionable foll.es of a gay unthinking world? Excuse me, my dear, I am a mother, and my concern for yous happiness is inseparably connected with my own. Perhaps I am mistaken, and, wha. I have considered as a fault may be only the effusions of youthful gaiety. J shall con- sider it in that light, and be extremely glad, yea, happy, to find it so. Useful instruc- tions are never too often inculcated. and therefore, give me leave again to put you ix mind of that duty, the performance of which alone san make you happy, both in time and in eternity. Religion, my dear, is a dedication of the whole man to the will of God, and virtue is the actual operation of that truth, which diffuses itself through every part of oui conduct: ‘her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.”’ Whilst the gay unthinking part of youth are devoting the whole of their time to fashionable pleasures, how happy shall I be to hear that my child was religious without hypocritical austerity, and even gay with innocence! Let me beg that you spend at least one hour each day in perusing your Bible, and some of our best English writers and don’t imagine that religion is such a gloomy thing as some enthusiasts have represented : no, it indulges you in every rational amusement, so far as it is consistent with morality;—it forbids nothing but what is hurtful. Let me beg you will consider attentively what I have written, and send me as answer as soon as you can. I am your affectionate mother. NORTHAMPTON, February 10, My DzZAR MOTHER: Iam so much affected with the perusal of your really parental advice, that I can scarcely hold the pen to write an answer; but duty to the best of parents obliges me to make you easy in your mind, before I take any rest to myself. That levity so con: spicuous in my former letters, is too true to be denied, nor doI desire to draw a veil over my own folly. No, mother, I freely confess it; but with the greatest sincerity, I must at the same time declare, that they were written in a careless manner, without considering the character of the person to whom they were addressed: I am fully sensible of my error, and on all future occasions, shall endeavor to avoid giving the least offense. The advice you sent me in your valuable letter, wants no encomium ; all that I desire is, to have it engraven on my heart. My dear mother, I love religion, I love virtue, and I hope no consideration will ever lead me from those duties, in which alone I expect future happiness. Let me beg to hear from you often, and I hope that my whole future conduct will convince the best of parents, that I am what she wishes me to be. Iam, dear mother, your dutiful daughter.PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. &3 Oe PHILADELPHIA, March 4, My DEAR FATHER; A YOUNG CLERK I wrote to you by Mr. Bale, but not having received any f9 HIS FATHER tneasy. Although I have been as good an economist as possible, yet I find the pocket- te eee money you allowed me to take monthly from Mr. Willis, is not sufficient to support my HACKET-MONEY TeCcsSary expenses, I assure you, that I abhor every sort of extravagance as much as you desire, and the small matter which I ask as an addition to your former allowance, is only to promote my own interest, which, I am sure, you have as much at heart as any parent possibly can have. My employer will satisfy you, that my conduct has been consistent with the strictest rules of morality. I submit it to your judgment what you think proper to order me. I did not choose to mention my want of money to Mr. Willis, and for that reason have not taken anything more than what you ordered. I hope you will not be offended with what I have written ; as I shall always consider myself happy in performing my duty, and retaining the favor of my honored parents, Iam, your iftectionate son. answer makes me vers BIRMINGHAM, Pa., March 1 5; My DEAR CHILD: THE FATHER’S My reason for not writing to you sooner was that I had been on a journey to yous ANSWER uncile’s, where I was detained longer than I expected, and consequently did not see yout letter till last night. I have considered your request, and am convinced that it is alto- gether reasonable. You are greatly mistaken if you think that I wanted to confine yor to the small matter paid to Mr. Willis. No, it was indeed inadvertency ; but my constant residence in the country makes me littie acquainted with the customs of Philadelphia. I do not desire to confine you to any particular sum ; you are now arrived to an ace when it becomes absolutely necessary for you to be well acquainted with the value of money ; your profession likewise requires it, and it 1s well known, that prudence and sobriety in youth, naturally lead to regularity of conduct in more advanced years. Virtue insures respect; and, as I well know that all manner of precepts are useless where the inclinations are vicious, I have left the affair mentioned in your letter entirely to your own discretion ; and as the inclosed order is unlimited, I doubt not but prudence will direct you how tg proceed. | I am, dear child, your affectionate father. CHARLESTON, S. C., June 1, My DEAR FATHER: You know that it is now above a year since I entcred into business for myself, and SE ae KiNG finding it daily increasing, Iam obliged to look out fora partner ; I mean a wife. T here CONSENT TO is a very worthy family in this neighborhood, with whom I have been some time ea acquainted. They are in good circumstances, and have a daughter, an amiable young woman, greatly esteemed by all who know her: I have paid my addresses to ker, and likewise obtained her parents’ consent, on condition that it was agreeable to you. i would not do anything of that nature without your consent; but I hope that, upon the strictest inquiry, you will find her such a person, that you will not have any objection toa match so advantageous, I shall, on every occasion, endeavor to act with the greatest prudence, consistent with the rules you were pleased to prescribe for my conduct. Her parents are to pay me five hundred dollars on the day of marriage, if the event should happen to take place; and as they have no other children, the whole of their property becomes ours at their death. In whatever light you are pleased to consider this, I shali abide hy your direction, and your answer in the meantime is impatiently expected by, Your obedient son. 7 PT ve ee ee ee oe a ees ee bel _ Pita Ne ele & ae eae re ee wis a ee a ee ie es ww ee neil1 ‘ : x SJ ity Oe ee ed os eh ae Sy Leis ~ lind men as a ta ee Sea ake Si ei ne CRN He ALB Me ES Lie aececienae terete ener ke ae Pe Ce 4 4 € Ma 4 % A A z oO is = THE FAT WIFE’S LETTER TO AN ABSENT HUSBAND differ from your own. LES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. MoBILE, ALA., June 25, My DEAR SON; ro : = I received your letter, and my reason for not answering it sooner is, that it bemg I receivea your icttel, a! 5 : ar, affair of great importance I was willing ue proceed therein with the greatest caution, tT wrote to Mr. Johnson, my particular friend, desiring him to inquire concerning the emily vou desired to be allied with, and I am glad to hear that his account does not ‘ ¢ I hope you do not think that I would desire to see you one moment unhappy. ns for entering into the marriage state are every way satisfactory, and I am glad to hear that the person on whom you have placed your affections is so deserving. When you have fixed the wedding day, I will come to Charles: ii +6 be present at the ceremony. I hope you will continue to attend to your business evith the same diligence you have hitherto done; and if you should live to an old age, you then will be able to retire from trade with honor both to yourself and family. ? I am, your affectionate father, Your reaso Mount Ho.ty, N.J., Sept. 9, r you are pleased with the new situation in which the care of your friends has put you, but I would have you pleased, not with the novelty of it, but with the real advantage. It is natural for you to be glad you are under less restraint than vou were; for an employer has neither occasion nor inclination to watch a youth SO much as his parents. But if you are not careful, this, although it now gives youa ildish satisfaction, may, in the end, betray you into mischief; nay, to your ruin, Though vour father is not in sight, dear brother, act always as if you were in his : be assured, that what would not offend him, will never displease anybody, You have more sense (I have often told you so), than most persons at your time. Now is the opportunity to make a good use of it; and take this for certain, every right step you enter upon now, will be a comiort to you for your life. I would have yout reason. as well as your fancy, pleased with your new situation, and then you will act as becomes you. Consider, brother, that the state of life that charms you so at this time, wiil bring you to independence and affluence. The employer with whom you até rs ago in your situation; and what should hinder you from being All that is required is patience and industry; and these, brother, are ith which to purchase so comfortable a condition. Your employer, Iam told, had nothing to begin the world withal. In that he was no f 7 est > rt m td by © bp Co ad or if you behave well, there are those who will set you up ina handsome manner. So you have sufficient inducements to be good, and a reward always ther, farewell! Be careful and honest, and God will bless you. If ever 4Cliw ¥ foliows it. Bro you commit a fault, confess it at once; for the lie in denying it is worse than the thing ‘tself. Go to church constantly; write to us often. I think I need say no more to $0 xood a lad as you, to induce you to continue so. fam, your affectionate brother. CHICAGO, Feb. 9, My DEAR GILBERT: I have been playing and lauching with our little girl so long that I cannot take up my pen to address you without emotion. Pressing her to my bosom, she looked se ke you (your best looks,—I do not admire your commercial face), every nerve seemed to vibrate to the touch, and I began to think there was something in the assertion of man and wife being one; for you seemed to pervade my whole frame, quickening ths ") beat of my heart, and lending me the sympathetic tears you excited.LETTER BY AMOS LAWRENCE TO HIS BROTHER ABBOTT LETTER OF AMOS LAWRENCE TO HIS MOTHER PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. Ss Have I any more to say to you? No, not for the present—the rest is al! flown away! and indulging tenderness for you, I cannot now complain of some people here who have ruffled my temper for two or three days past : Yours, most affectiovately, MARY. My DEAR BROTHER ! Boston, March tr, 1815. ~ Ld. at Ej EN. s [have thought best, before you go abroad, to suggest a few hints for your benefit in your intercourse with the people among whom you are going. Asa first. and leading principle, let every transaction be of that pure and honest character that you would not be ashamed to have appear before the whole world as clearly as to yourself. In addition to the advantages arising from an honest course of condutt with your fellow-men, there is the satisfaction of reflecting within yourself that you haveendeavored to do your duty } and however greatly the best may fall short of doing al! they ought, they will be sure not to do more than their principles enjoin. It is, therefore, of the highest consequence that you should not only cultivate correct principles, but that you should place your standard of action so high as to require great vigilance in living up to it. In regard to your business transactions, let everything be so registered in yous books that any person without difficulty can understand the whole of your concerns. You may be cut off in the midst of your pursuits, and it is of no small consequence that your temporal affairs should always be so arranged that you may be in readiness. If it is important that you should be well prepared in this point of view, how much more important is it that you should be prepared in that which relates to eternity } You are young, and the course of life seems open, and pleasant prospects greet your ardent hopes ; but you must remember that the race is not always to the swift, and that however flattering may be your prospects, and however zealously you may seek pleasure, you can never find it except by cherishing pure principles and practicing right conduct. My heart is full on this subject, my dear brother, and it is the only one on which I feel the least anxiety. While here your conduct has been such as to meet my entire approbation ; but 1 i ee a wo QO 1 enes of another land may be more than your principles will stand against. I say, may be, because young men of as fair promise as yourself have been lost by giving a small latitude (innocent in the first instance) to their propensities. But I pray the Father of all mercies to have you in his keeping, and preserve you amid temptations. I can only add my wish to have you write me frequently and particularly, and that you will embrace every opportunity of gaining information. Your affectionate brother, AMOS LAWRENCE. To ABBOTT LAWRENCE August 16, 1835. My DEAR AND HONORED MOTHER: My mind turns back to you almost as frequently as its powers are brought inte separate action, and always with an interest that animates and quickens my pulse; for, under God, it is by your influence and teachings that I am prepared to enjoy those blessings which He has so richly scattered in my path in all my onward progress in life. How could it be otherwise than that your image should be with me, unless I should prove wholly unworthy of you? Your journey is so much of it performed that those subjects which interested you greatly in its early stages have lost their charms ; and well it is that they have; for they now would prove clogs in the way, audit is to your eC | iad 7 re , ae ren SORA ‘ a hae Se et c Piel a Po pimemiacee ites a abit ee DPE ~ , ee Se “ ne Pee a eee ee rat a a ona es2 ae g a PA Ss * Pe see Tele ere Lal ep Me tn aio SOOT yi ee pence Weipa ee a SD Hs Pee AA EAL De Paar int a a LA Stal OS hal Se Pa ota Need DS sk al MWR aL CS ES ee eee eae gh create RO Inca PH BSL he aa eee a 86 JOHN ADAMS 10 HIS WIFE ABIGAIL ADAMS TO JOHN ADAMS ACT RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. childreti, to your Saviour, and your God that your mind and heart now turn as the natural sources of pleasure. Each of these, I trust, in their proper place and degree supply all your wants. The cheering promise that has encouraged you when your ight of years and infirmities powers were the highest will not fail you when the we have inade it necessary to your comfort to get over the few remaining spans of the journey. To Godl commend you; and pray Him to make your path light, and your ful, until you shall reach that home prepared for the faithful} Your affectionate son, A. LAWRENCE. way confiding and joy PHILADELPHIA, Feb. 11, :776. My DEAR WIFE: Here I am again; arrived fast Thursday in good health, although I had a cold journey. The weather a great part of the way was very Severe, which prevented our making very quick progress. My companion was agreeable, and made the journey much less tedious than it would have been. I can form no judgment of the state of public opinion and principles here as yet, nor any conjectures of what an hour may bring forth. Have been to meeting, and heard Mr. Duffield from Jere. 2:17: “ Hast thou not procured this unto thyself, in that thou hast forsaken the Lord thy God when he led thee by the way?” He prayed very earnestly for Boston and New York, suvposing the latter to be in danger of destruction ;I, however, am not convinced that Vandeput will fire upon that town. It has too much Tory property to be destroyed by Tories. I bope it will be fortified and saved. If not, the question may be asked, ‘‘ Hast thou not pro- eured this?’’ etc. To-morrow Dr. Smith is to deliver an oration in honor of the brave Montgomery. I will send it as soon as it is out to you. There is a deep anxiety, a kind of thoughtful 1 elancholy, and in some a lowness of spirits approaching to despondency, prevailing through the Southern colonies at present, very similar to what I have often observed in Boston, particularly on the first news of the Port Bill, and last year about this time, or a little later, when the bad news atrived which dashed their fond hopes with which they had deluded themselves through the winter. In this or a similar condition we shall remain I think nntil late in the spring, when some critical event will take place, perhaps sooner. But the Arbiter of events, the Sovereign of the world, only knows whi-h way the torrent will beturned. Judging by exp erience, by probabilities, and by all appearar ‘es, I conclude it will roll on to dominion and glory—though the circumstances and co \se- quences may be bloody. In such great changes and commotions individuals are puf atoms. It is scarcely worth wu:le to conside1 what the consequences will be to us. What will be the effects upon present and future millions, and millions of milliong, is question very interesting to benevolence, natural and Christian. God grant they may, and I firmly believe they will, be happy. BRAINTREE, Saturday Evening, 2d March, 1776. My DEAR, I was greatly rejoxced at the return of your servant to find you had safely arrived, end that you were well. I had never heard a word from you after you had left New York, and a mst ridiculous story had been industriously propagated in this and neigh- boring towns to injure the cause and blast your reputation, namely, that you and your President (Hancock) had gone aboard a man-of-war and sailed for England. I should not mention so idle a report, but that it had given uneasiness to some of your friends ; not that they in the least credited the report, but because the gaping vulgar swallowed the storv.PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. f assure you that such high disputes took place in the public- Some men were collared and dragged out of the shop with great threats for reporting ésuch scandalous lies, and an uncle of ours offered his life as a forfeit for you if the report proved true. However, it has beeu a nine days’ marvel, and will now cease. i heartily wish every Tory was extirpated from America, ‘They are continually by secret means undermining and injuring our cause. I have been k 87 house of this parish that ept in a continual state of anxiety and expectation ever since you lefi me. It has been said ‘to-morrow’? and ‘to-morrow ” for this month, but when to: morrow will be I know not. But hark! The house this instant shakes with the roa: of cannon. I have been to the door, and find that it is a cannonading from our army, Orders, I find, are come for all the retnaining militia to repair to the lines Monday night by twelve o’clock. No sleep for me to-night ; but if I cannot, who have no guilt upor my soul in regard to this cause, how shall the miserable wretches who have been the procurers of this dreadful scene, and those whe are to be the actors, lie down with the ‘oad of guilt upon their souls? Adieu. Yours, Astot House, New York, Dec. 7, 1837. My DEAR JULIA, LETTER OF I don’t remember that I ever wrote youaletter. I feel confident, however, that yout CHARLES SUMNER Correspondence is not very extensive ; and therefore I flatter myself that what I write ee 6 ing you will be read with attention, and I trust, also, deposited in your heart, Before SISTER, TEN trusting myself to the sea, let me say a few words to you which shall be my good-by. YEARS OLD { have often spoken to you of certain habits of personal care, which I will not here more particularly refer to than by asking you to remember all I have told you. Iam very glad, my dear, to remember your cheerful countenance. I shall keep it in my mind as I travel over sea and land, and hope that when I return I may still find ts pleasant smile ready to greet me. Try nevertocry. But above all things never be obstinate or passionate. If you find your temper mastering you, always stop till you count s¢xty before you say or do anything. Let it be said of wou that you are always amiable. Love your father and mother, and brothers and sistere, and all your friends ° cultivate an affectionate disposition. If you find that you can do anything which will add to the pleasure of your parents, or anybody else, be sure todoit. Considerevery opportunity of adding to the pleasure of others as of the highest importance, and do not be unwilling to sactifice some enjoy- ment of your own, even some dear plaything, if by doing so you can promote the happiness of others. If you follow this advice you will never be selfish or ungenerous, and everybody wiil love you. Study all the lessons you have at school, and when at home, in the t‘x2e when you are tired of play, read some good bocks which will help to improve your mind. ; If you will let Horace read this letter it will do the same, perhaps, as one addressed ta him, Give my love to mother, and Mary, and the rest. Your affectionate brother, CHARLES. April 19, 1757. DEAR SISTER : A LETTER OF I wrote a few lines to you yesterday, but omitted to answer yours relating to Sistes eeakitin to nis Dowse. As having their own way is one of the greatest comforts of life to old people, SISTER I think their friends should endeavor to accommodate them in that, as well as anything else. When they have lived long in a house it becomes natural to them ; they are almost as closely connected with it as the tortoise witk his shell; they die if you tear them m ca eaattalt ad eS Se ee ee ; , s ake ee ee eee CO a) a Pee eM acetetaiate ea — se ae nen - R p ee . ee oe ee ay eei ‘ ae _ ae Bd -€ PS a) 2 r 3 4 & et 4 a 3 i Ps Son ged cn pn ie a eS vs Deh eka Ne Aah PX. PSP) SL Va Po ie i aaa Stas a I LLL i hotly Oak bab SS rib esa ig dag eH Ia RE AWS BLN ala a na a Jitters Yih So ae NEE atten fn fs Feet a een RAE cine ei SSA Stok Ua cco ha ee oa 2 7 538 LETTEd OF JAMES A. GARFIELD ON THE DEATH OF HIS CHILD LETTER OF JAMES A, GARFIELD, DESCRIBING DORCHESTER RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. out < old folks and old trees, if you remove them, itis ten to one that you kill them, So let our good old sister be no more importuned on that head. We are growing old fast ourselves, and shall expect the same kind of indulgences if we give them, we shall have a right to receive them in our turn. And as to her fey fine things, I think she is right about selling them, and for the reason that she gives that they will fetch but little ; when that little is spent, they would be of no further use to hers; ‘but perhaps the expectation of possessing them at her death may make that person tender and careful, and helpful to her to the amount of ten times their value If so, they are put to the best use they possibly can be. I hope you will visit sister as often as your affairs will permit, and afford her what assistance and comfort you can in her present situation. Old age, infirmities, and poverty joined, are afflictions enough. The zeglect and slighds of near relatives and friends should never be added. People in her circumstances are apt to suspect this sometimes without cause. Appearances, therefore, should be attended to, in our conduct toward them, as well as relatives. I write by this post to Cousin Williams to continue his care, which ] doubt not he will do. We expect to sail in about a week, ¢o I shall hardly have time to hear from you on this side of the water. Your affectionate brother, BENJAMIN. WASHINGTON, D. C., Nov. 9, 1876. My DEAR CORYDON : L arrived in this city yesterday afternoon, and found that your kind letter of the od inst. was awaiting me. Our precious little Eddie died on the 25th of October, and on the same evening ’Crete and I left with the body, and on the 27th we buried him beside our little girl, who died thirteen years ago. Both are lying in the graveyard at 1 ill left us, but with a desolation in 4 Hiram, and we have come back to those which are st our hearts known only to those who have lost a precious child. It seems to me that we are many years older than we were when our dear little boy died. His little baby ways so filled the house with joy that the silence he has left is heart-breaking. It needs all my philosophy and courage to bear it. It was hard to go on with the work of the great campaign with so great a grief in my heart, but I knew it was my duty, and I did it as weil as I could. ‘Crete joins me in my kindest regards to you and May. I hope the time may come when we can sit down and renew the memories of other days and enjoy a long visit. 1 am here now for the winter, and shall soon be at work in the Suprem am having a number of important cases. With as much love as ever, and brother, JAMES A. GARFIELD. e Court, where I I am your friend DORCHESTER HEIGHTS, Mass., Jan. 5, 1856, My DEAR CORYDON AND MARY : I want to pencil a few lines to you from this enchanting spot on the seashore, six miles from Boston, and when I return perhaps I will ink itinaletterto you. ! am spending the night here with a classmate of mine, one of the dearest friends ] have in college. I am now in an old house, every timber of oak, built more than one hundred years ago. To one who has seen cities rise from the wild forest in the space of a dozen years, and has hardly ever seen a building older than himself, you may be assured that many reflections are awakened by the look of antiquity that everything has around me. The quaint old beams and panelled walls, the heavy double windows that look out ocean ward, in short, the whole air of the building speaks of the days of the olden time~ROM ALITTLE GIRL, WANTING TO COME HOME THE ANSWER PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. 89 To think that these walls have echoed to the shouts of loyalty to George the king fave heard all the voices of the Spirit stirring Revolution, the patriotic resolve, the tramp of the soldier’s foot, the voice of the beloved Washington (for within a few rods of here he made his first Revolutionary encampment), the cannon of Bunker Hill, the lamentations of defeat and shouts of victory—all these cannot but awaken peculiar reflections. To how many that are now sleepers in the quiet chuchyard, or wanderers in the wide, cold world, has this been the dear ancestral hall where all the joys of childhood were clustered. Within this caken-ceiled chamber how many bright hopes have been cherished and high resolves formed: how many hours of serene joy, and how many heart-throbs of bitter anguish! If these walls had a voice I would ask he mingled scenes of joy and sorrow they have witnessed. But even their silence has a voice, and I love to listen. But without there is no is howling and the snows are drifting. The voice of the great r waves, as they come rolling up against the wintry shore, speaks of Him ‘‘whose vaies Only a few miles from here is the spat where-~ ** The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky + Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dar The hills and water o’er, When a band of Pilgrims moored their bark On the wild New England shore.”’ But the coal has sunk to the lowest bar in the grate beside me; ’tis fas past the neon of night, and I must close, s as the sound of many waters.” As ever, your own affectionate y JAMES. AMENIA SEMINARY, DEAR MAMMA? O! Iam sotired of this place! Icannot learn so many things at once ; and I cannot bear going to bed without kissing you. You know, mamma, I have never been away from you before, and I feel as if I should die of grief if you do not let me come home again. 20, mamma, do, and I will love you for ever. Your miserable child, BLANCHE, JERSEY City, Saturday, 16th. My DEAR CHILD! I am sorry that you should pain me by so unreasonable a request. You know wed that nothing pleases me more than to have all of you around me; but you must recollect that all your brothers and sisters have been to school before you, and they never com- plained at all. I know that you, being the youngest, have been petted a great deal by all of us; but, for that very reason you ought to try and give us pleasure, by growing up a good and clever girl. Believe me, my dear child, you will find school become more pleasant every day, as you get better acquainted with your schoolfellows, and as your improvement gains the approval of your mistress. Youth, my dear little girl, is the proper time for excHon e for if we once lose the precious hours of early life, we have naught to look back to but disappointment and regret. , J have written to Mrs. —-— to ask her to give you not quiteso many lessons at first, and have no doubt she will do all to assist you. But you must try to be happy, and ee ee | aed Eo AR SNC Rr ae a wm , 3 ee a ie . ee ee ee os aa Sr a al ental ann PE : ad oe ee eo a al pee aa' ee ’ Sheen Tee, Pe oo eee ge eaY AT Aa Ten SPOONS ei a * En aes een ea an eit ele bd eo Mame : SS a Ng a RE re Si as AAS itl oe tnt tn gi lH ON MRI, SNR USL reo i Se ANNOUNCING THE VACAT'GN ACKNOWLEDGING 4 PRESENT 10 A DAUGHTER ON HER BIRTHDAY RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. fook forward to the Christmas vacation as the reward of the little self-privation you efe at present undergoing. With the united kind loves of your father, brothers and sisters, Zam, my dear child, Your affectionate mother. WooDLAWN HOUwSE, June 1, My DEAR PARENTS ; It is with mingled feelings of regret and pleasure, that I announce that the termi nation of this half year’s work is fixed for the —th instant. I sincerely hope that I shall not only find you both in excellent health, but that you will be satisfied with my improvement since I last left home. No pains have been spared by any of my teachers to render me worthy of your good opinion ; and I must ever feel grateful both to them, and to yourselves, for the pains bestowed upon my education. Mrs. (ov Miss) —— desires me to present her best compliments ; and, with my best love to my sisters and brothers, believe me to remain, my dear parents, Your ever dutiful and affectionate daughter. RICHMOND, April 4, My DEAR FATHER : How kind of you to think of me immediately after your return from Paris! The trinkets you sent are so very beautiful, that I should have been afraid of exciting the envy of my school-fellows, had it not been for the liberal supply of French con- fectionery (of which, I assure you, very little now remains) by which they were accom- panied. I assure you, I spare no trouble to win the good opinion of my school-mistress and teachers: and if I may judge from their kindness towards me, I am not altogether unsuccessful. I am enjoying excellent health and spirits ; but I hope now you are in New York, you will sometimes run down and see your daughter ; for, believe me, nothing but an occasional thought of poor, widowed papa, ever intrudes upon my cheerfulness. Mrs. has frequently expressed a wish to see you, so that I shall look forward with anxiety for that happy occasion. Again thanking you for your thoughtful and liberal kindness, Believe me to remain, my dear father, Your ever affectionate and grateful daughter, NEW ORLEANS, February 12, My DEAREST CHILD: Your father, brothers and sisters, all unite with me in sending you a thousand good wishes on this your —th anniversary. We could all have wished that circum- stances would have allowed of your spending it with us ; but feeling, in these matters, must oftentimes be sacrificed to utility, and our selfish delights must not be suffered to interfere with the prospects of those dear to us. The package which accompanies this letter, contains not only some trifling tokens of affection from all of us, but the materials for a little entertainment which, I have no doubt, Mrs. will allow you te give to your schoolfellows, as I have written to beg a half-holiday on the occasion. God bless you, my dear child! and that every succeeding year may see you increasé fn all that is desirable in body and mind, is the earnest prayer of your ever anxions parents. With best compliments to your mistress and teachers, Believe me, Your ever affectionate mother,*® OM A BROTHER To HIS MARRIED SISTER INA FOREIGN EOUNTRY FROM A BROTHER IN THE COUNTRY 10 HIS SISTER ‘NEW YORK WVITATION TO A BACHELOR PARTY PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. NEW YorE, June 3, My Dear SISTER: 3 We have been long impatiently expecting a letter from you The last we received was far too brief, as we were anxious to know more about the particulars of your voyage, and how you managed on your arrival at the place of destination. The distance which now separates us invests all that concerns you with a peculia: interest, and our anxiety on the subject of your welfare can only be allayed by as full and particular a recital as you can possibly wiite. Believe me, it is no mere urlosity that elicits this wish on our part to be better informed of all that befalls you; as. since we have but too much reason to conclude that our meetings together are perhaps now forever closed, we are the more anxious to hear from you as often as possible, and I am sure you will not withhold from us this pleasure. As for ourselves at home, little change has taken place since you left America - the health of our dear parents remains much the same; as does also that of most of our relatives and connections. They all unite with me in wishing you and your husband all possible health and happiness, and I remain, my dear sister, Your affectionate brother, To Mrs. =, GALVESTON, Texas, September 4, My Dear SISTER: Not having heard from you for the last three months, I feel anxious to learn how you are at present situated, and what may be your future vrospects. You have now been nearly three years with Mrs. , and the period for which you were articled to that lady draws to aclose. I hope you have now formed some plan for the future ; and whatever that plan may be, I shall, if you think proper to confide in me, be most willing and ready to give you my best advice and assistance. If you purpose having a short rest from business, and will cometo Galveston for a few weeks, your sister-in-iaw, who unites with me in the kindest regards to you, will do ker best to make that period pass agreeably, Pray write qu.ckly to Your affectionate brother LETTERS OF INVITATION. NEWARK, September rz, My Dear Jor Myself, and half a dozen other good fellows, are going to devote a few hours on Tuesday evening to the enjoyment of a few glasses of wine, chit-chat, and so on, ¥ ; . 3 3? hope you will make one, as we have not enjoyed the “ feast of oe and flow of sont i each other’s company for some time past. Believe me, dear Joe, Yours ever, HARRY. MABISON SQUARE, November 12, Dzar Mr. RoBinson ; 3 : fy oid friend Richard Roy is coming to take a chop with me on Saturday the rsth, andI hope you will come and join us at six o’clock. I know you are not partial to larg- parties, so trust you will think us two sufficient company. Yours ever truly. ed PN nn ea ele * ete Rekielbitin Ceb oleae .. ; a Ne be re . a ee a eae one 7 ee eel eal eex S - BX Sore ere ee Se aol 2 abel Me Re ial es Desekiekeecit Be Rah APD la) ol Le info OID SEER ORE ALI MNI = Ze ie BAG ete siesta og cork ashe a AACR SCAR ANGIE HS SARL lige sad ash aaiaadahe eee os RENTS Eee YL dae nateey Deus 92 &N INVITATION TO & PICNIC PARTY ANOTHER, TOA SATHER OF A FAMILY AN SEYITA TENS ANS'RER TO THE Ades. ACCEPTING ANSWER, DECLINING TO AN INTIMATE FRIEND REPLY RULES OF ETIQUET TE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. vs July rz, DEAR =: Jack myself, and four others are go down to Richmond in a six-oared cing boat next Wednesday Now, you are a jolly fellow and a good steersman, so I hops - inNoOe RK7é at " ae Pn you will give us your company a and your services ; inges) we willtake no excuse. We *’clo 7 Lr : shall set out from my lodging atgoc ock, without fail. Yours truly, in haste, ALBANY, July 3, My Dear SIR: We are endeavoring to get up a small exct rsion to visit of this month. Will you do us the favor cf making one of our number? Mrs. a and my family desire their compliments, and request me to mention that they have taker upon themselves the task of providing the ‘‘creature comforts’’ trust that their exertions will meet with unanimous approval. Should you have ti previous engagement for that day, and feel disposed to join our party, a carriage will be at your door by 100 ’clock on Thursday morning ; and believe me to be, My dear sir, yours most sincerely, the Catskills on the 1ott. for that occasion, and To , Esq. P.S.—The favor of an early answei will oblige. © NEw York, July 20, My Dar Sir: May I hope that you will allow you: r boys and gi He to join mine in an excursion té Gien Cove on the oth ? We expect to make rather a lat rge party, and have, therefore, ynade arrangements to dine at the Cove House. In haste, believe me. my dear sir, yours ever sincerely. Mr.——~-. NOTES OF INVITATION. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson request the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. James’s compa’ on Wednesday evening next, at ei ‘lock, to join a social party. An immediate answer will much oblige. Fifth Avenue, January oth, Mr. and Mrs. Tames will be most happy to avail themselves of Mr. and Mrs & ’ . . : Ee 4 ete elena AAAAN at ey .- sto Thompson’s kind invitation to join their social party as requested. Houston Street, January 1oth. Mr. and Mrs. James greatly regret their inability to accept Mr. and Mrs . Thompson's J find invitation to join their soci at party. Nothing would have afforded them more pleasure than to be present, but eiaile affliction prevents them. West Street, January roth. My DEAR BERTHA,—A few friends will be here on Wednesday evening next, to take @ social cup of tea, and chat about mankind in particular. Give us the pleasure of yous company. S. BUCKMAN. Reinre Gtres ¢ AAS wan Yaince Street, Saturday morning. oO op My DEAR SopHI£,—It affords me grea sure t @atty, on Wednesday evening next. BE Spring Street, Saturday afternoon. rou that I shall join yout VRTHA MERWIN.FROM A GENTLEMANTO the HIS FRIEND CONTAINING AN INVEEATION THE ANSWER ACCEPTING THE ay be assured, that I never willingly resign the pleasure of enjoying your society ; INVITATION ANOTHER ANSWER CONTAINING AN EXCUSE FROM A LADY TO HER FEMALE FRIEND PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. 93 ORANGE, N. J., July 2, My DrEar FRIEND: Being now settled at my country residence for the summer, I lose no time in soliciting pleasure of your company, together with that of your family, and trust that you wiil take it convenient to pass a month or six weeks with us in our rural retirement. J} believe that you are too well aware of my friendship, to doubt every thing will be done to render your stay with us agreeable. My wife desires me to inform you, that unless you comply with this, our mutual request, your namie will be erased from her good books. Very faithfully yours. WASHINGTON, D. C., July 4, My DEAR Sir: Your very friendly and polite invitation demands my immediate attention. Yor and, on the present occasion, I am extremely happy to say prevent my acceptance of your very kind offer. family in the course of ten days. good lady to return with us. Requesting you to be assured, that I am truly sensible of your repeated acts of friendiy attention towards me, I am, dear sir, with best wishes for your oo and happiness (in which my wife unites), very affectionately, , that I have nothing ta You may, therefore, expect me and my I hope we shall be able to prevail on you and your Yours trul WASHINGTON, D.C., July 5, My WorTHyY FRIEND: I am truly obliged to you for your very friendly invitation, and sincerely lament that the pressure of my business prevents me at present from complying with it ; though { hope this will not induce your amiable lady to erase my name from her good books, especially as it is no fault of mine, my inclination being decidedly in favor of the visit. My family unite with me in the kindest remembrances to you all; and I subscribe myself, Your obliged friend, LETTERS OF FRIENDSHIP. No. 1519 GREENE STREET, May 2, My DEAR GRACE: As I have never withheld even my most secret thoughts from you, I cannot avoid informing you, that since my last letter, I have received an offer of marriage from Mr. Dawson. This, you will perhaps say, has been long expected. True, my dear girl, but it is not, therefore, the less important ; especially as my lover is very ardent in his professions, and my heart, could he discover its inmost feelings, is no less repugnant te delay than his own. However, my dear girl, to confess the truth, I will inform you that I received the offer of his hand with all that rapture which derives its origin from pure love, and accepted with that candor, which I sincerely trust, I shall never (even for a moment) lose sight of. Yes, my beloved friend, the most important action of your friend’s life, on which all her future felicity or misery depends, is finally determined upon; and o Wednesday next I am pledged to become the wife of the only man I ever loved. Agreeably, therefore, to a long-standing promise, I shall expect that y it convenient to attend as iny bridemaid. it ou will mak: And believe me to be, my dos girl, Ever faithfully Your affectionate friend, ad , F =a es eae ee ee Fe en heel ee a ed ae nk el ee eee a Rb 0 ALE OD AM ae Rb ee gpemndite? Sor «4 : + eo a ¥. 3 3 a Pot a i 3 Es PS é B $ - | Fi = A : F | Dose ekenaiat Sel el te 0 BT Aa LP INL lil) PRR aaa St a Be ak LSE A tal gO bl eta eae cavitation Sys ee Agni iac es Ce ak as ne * el i 4 Pe o4 iHE ANSWER vO A LADY REFUSING A FAVOR FROM ONE MARRIED LADY ‘N INDIA TO ANOTHER IN aMERICA RULES OF ETIQUEITE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. No. 1290 WALNUT STREET, May 3, My DEAR LAURA: : . The fresh proof you have given me of your friendship and confidence, would, if any- thing could do so, increase that friendly interest I have ever felt in all which concerned you. However, though I have ten thousand things to say, I shall reserve the whole til!) we meet. | I shall certainly do myself the pleasure of attending upon you in an official capacity’ on your wedding-day, when you may expect that I design to have my laugh out, though believe me, without any joke, to be r Yours ever, most faithfully, JOSEPHINE. THs Prinss, March 11, DEAR MADAM: It is very painful to me to be under the necessity of replying to your letter of yesterday’s date, as Icannot at the same time render you the assistance you require. Had it been in my power, I should have instantly complied, as I should be happy, at all times, if possible, to anticipate your wishes ; I trust, therefore, you will forgive me these lines, and believe me to be (althougu I do not in the present instance prove it), Your sincere friend, LEANDER WILMINGTON. BUNGARAPOORA, June 13, My DEAR Mrs. PATMORE: After so many years’ absence, I was, indeed, delighted to hear that yourself ané your dear little ones were alive aud well, and that your married life appeared to have realized every happiness you deserved. Jassure you that I plagued Colonel ——— with questions till he was utterly incapable of saying anything more about you, and that the delightful idea of writing once more to my dear old friend and schoolfellow, is aimost too much for me to believe it true. My life, like your own, has been a happy and prosperous one. You can pardon @ mother’s vanity, when I assure you that my children are ali that I could wish. Herbert, the eldest, is already established in a situation calculated to place him in an excellent position hereafter, while his conduct is such as to make him beloved both as a son ané a brother. Agnes, whom you recollect as a little thing in a white frock and blue sash, is engaged to the eldest son of Colonel ———, who bids fair to make her an excellent husband, and who likewise possesses interest likely to insure him future success. As for the younger ones, I assure you that they are as amiable children as (allowing for the inevitable whims and mischief natural to all of us) I could hope for. Baby (whe is just fifteen months old) is universally voted a prodigy of talent, and is petted and spoilt by everybody. My dear husband, who is never happy except with his children around him, has so firm, and yet so kindly an influence over them, that we are able te treat them as friends, and waive the stern control which is unhappily required, ané sometimes injudiciously practiced, in many families. Now that we have once more resumed correspondence, I hope that our letters may be less like ‘‘ angels’ visits,’’ than heretofore, and that I may hear all about you ang yours. W7th a prayer for a blessing on yourself, your husband, and dear childrem, believe me, Dear Alice. Ever your affectionate friend, To Mrs. PATMORE. SARAH HIGGINS,LETTER OF HON. CHARLES SUMNER, ON LEAVING NEW PROFER FORMS FOR LITTERS, 9% Astor Elousx, N. ¥., December 7, 1837. My DEAR FRIEND: My hours of ferrva firma are numbered. To-morrow before this time I shall be rocking on the water. Qualims of sea-sickr ess will be upon me; and, more than these, the anxiety and regrets at leaving friends, kindred, and country. It is no slight affair YORK FoRATRIP to break away from business which is to give me my daily bread and pass across the sea TO EUROPE, TO PROF. SIMON GREENLEAF, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. +81 (ER OF CHARLES LAMB TO SOUTHEY to untried countries, usages, and language, and I feel now pressing with a mountain’s weight the responsibility of my step. But I go abroad with the firmest determination to devote myself to self-improvement from the various sources of study, observation, and society, and to return an American, Gladly will I receive any of those accomplishments or modifications of character which justly proceed from an extended survey of the human family. I pray fervently that 1 may return with benefits on my head, and that the affectations of character and indif. ference to country, which are thought sometimes to proceed from travel, may not reach me. All this is in the unknown future, which I may not penetrate. To the candid judgment and criticism of my friends I shall submit myself on my return, and shal! esteem it one of the highest duties of friendship to correct me and assist in bringing me back to the path of seise and simplicity, if it shall be found that I have departed from it. Do not let it be said, then, that I shall be spoiled by Europe, but rather suggest that I shall return with an increased love for my country, an admiration for its institutions, and added capacity for performing my duty in lifes My knowledge of character must be elevated, and my own ambition have higher objects. If this is not so, then I shall have seen Europe in vain, and my friends may regret their generous confidence in me, My pen trembles in my hand as in that of a culprit who sees before him the awful tree, and counts the seconds which remain to him. I havea thousand things to say, but no time in which to express them ; so, with love to Mrs. Greenleaf, farewell, and believe me, Your affectionate friend, CHARLES SUMNER. My DEAR SOUTHEY: My tailor has brought me home a new coat, lapelled, with a velvet collar. He assures me that everybody wears velvet collars now. Some are born fashionable, some achieve fashion, and others, like your humble servant, have fashion thrust upon them. CONCERNING HIS ‘The rogue has been making inroads hitherto by modest degrees, foisting upon me an BREW COAT additional button, recommending garters; but to come upon me thus in full tide of luxury neither becomes him as a tailor or the ninth of a man. My meek gentleman was robbed the other day, coming with his wife and family ix a one-horse chaise from Hampstead. The villains rifled him of four guineas, some shillings and sixpences, ard a bundle of customers’ measures, which tney swore were bank-notes. They did not shoot him, and when they rode off he addressed them wit profound gratitude, saying, ‘‘ Gentlemen, I wish you good-night, and am very muck obliged to you that you have not used meill!’’ And this is the cuckoo that bas had the audacity to force upon me ten buttons on a side, and a black velvet collar. A curser ninth of a scoundrel! When you write to Lloyd, he wishes ais Jacobin correspondents to address him as Mr. C. L. What I have owed to thee I can never forget ; God love you and yours. CHARLHS LAME, td a ve ee a — eS ae i. er rer oy ee ae ad . adh ® eR a ee ee — Pe ad Feel eae. a , ai | as 6 @ a Fs = SS & a & § Ra . af ee a are Soke eke Rah PALI Pasa ak stad lg bak bea Pa uate ase is DB ath LEI Se oe oececeece a eae ae SEE eae a ei SHENAE AERA allel ht dessins Minis warlpdpean Godt eee 8 ot F ar FA | 4 e ANROUNCING ARRIVAL 10 A FRIEND ON HER INTENDED MARRIAGE TOA GENTLEMAN ON HIS MARRIAGE ENGAGEMENT TO A FRIEND ON HIS GOGD FORTUNE 30 A FRIEND ON THE BIRTH OF ASGN RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. DEAR RODERICK ° 2 ; I have just atrived on the Steamship Majestic, after a quick and pleasant voyage, Expect me to greet you face to face at my earliest convenience. : AS ever, BRANDON. LETTERS OF CONGRATULATION. VICKSBURG, September 20, My DEAR —? No one, I believe, can be more desirous to hear of ve your welfare and your prosperouy settlement in the marriage state than myself. I have long been sensible of your worth, your goodness of heart, your rectitude of principle, and your warmth of friendship. Enviable among men will be the lot of him who is destined te become your partner for life; and fortunate, indeed, was Mr. in that introduction which first presented you to his notice. As for Mr. , I need scarcely observe that I approve of your choice, in which you have shown a discrimination that does credit to your taste, and te that good sense which has been the guide of your past life. Adieu, and believe me to be, my dear Yours most sincerely and affectionately, PHIT,ADELPHIA, January 6, DEAR OLD FELLOW : And so you really are to be a Benedict! Well! I have no objection, provided you feel convinced that it is a measure likely to tend to your happiness. For myself, I am still a bachelor, although I do not know what such teinptation as you appear to have undergone might not do towards upsetting my present resolutions. You know I have no antipathy to matrimony : but, unlike yourself, I have not independent means sufficient to render me fearless of consequences, and should not be disposed to involve any woman, whom I could like sufficiently to make my wife, in a doubtful state of circumstances, if not in a discomfort which must be painful to a man of proper feeling and honor. At the same time, believe me, I cordially sympathize with your delight at the prospect of an agreeable union, atid wish sincerely that every happiness may be the result. Ever truly yours, LOUISVILLE, Ky., February Io, Mv DEAR HOWARD: The news of your good fortune gives me great satisfaction. INo one can possess L 1 true friendship without rejoicing in the prosperity of a friend. To one who has always been manly, true and noble, and who has labored persistently toward a particular end, success must be extremely gratifying. t will ever be my delight to hear that you are prospering in your undertakings, f in any way I can serve you, you can rely upon my best endeavors. With every wish for yourself and Mrs. Kerr, Ever faithfully yours, St. Louis, Mo., June 15, Tac Orn Trmmnyp ° DEAR OLD FRIEND: ry The happy announcement that a son and heir has been born to you, gives mé oxtreme satisfaction. I always thought you would distinguish yourself in some way. and would do something whereby your name might descend to posterity. And now, my worthy chum, it seems you have done it. I will not draw any picture of the cares and anxieties of fatherhood, such as carrying 4 a squalling youngster on your arm at 3 o’clock in the morning, running for the doctor w hen the little one has spasms of wind colic, opening your eyes with astonishment a8TO FRIENDS ON A MARRIAGE ANNIVERSARY A LETTER OF CONDOLENCE ON THE DEATH DF A HUSBAND THE SAME, ONA CHILD’S DEATH PROPER FORMS FOR LETTER. ®ills for shoes, dresses and toys, but will content myself w vou feel over the new arrival, and reminding you that what anxieties which children bring with them, in their intellize fove, there is abundant compensation and delight. Wishin as well as the young gentleman who will soon have the h ne best of Heaven’s blessings, I remain 9/9 ith sharing the joy whict ever may be the cares ane nce, their artlessness, theis g you and the happy mother, onor of calling you papa, the Yours most sincerely, MONTGOMERY, ALA., October 5; My DEAR Mr. AND Mrs. TREVELVAN: The announcement of the fifteenth atinivetsary of your wedding recalls the long period of time through which it has been our ha Ppy privilege to enjoy an uninterrupted friendship. This is your crystal wedding, and you will allow me to say that I trust your lives will always be as bright and sparkling as the gifts which you will receive. iam sure you are proving the blessedness of married life, and they always do whe enjoy mutual confidence, sympathy and support. The darkness which at times has crossed the path along which you have now traveled for fifteen years, has always had its silver lining, and my wish is that no greater Sorrows may overtake you in the future than have falien to your lot already. These you have borne with Christian patience, and have thus transformed them into benedictions. Accept my hearty congratulations on this anniversary of your married life, and n.ay another, which shall be tinged with silver, and another still, enriched with gold, fall te your lot Very affectionately yours, LETTERS OF SYMPATHY. CHICAGO, June 18th, My DEAR If any consolation can be afforded under so heavy an affliction as you have just experienced, it must come from a higher power than mine. Your own strong sense of religion, and of our duty of resignation to a power that is beyond our control, and a will that is ever beneficently directed towards our good, must uphold you in this must bitter trial. I well know how painful the well-meant, but often mistaken, officiousness of friends may be on such occasions, or I should have hastened to your side. -1d sought to assuage the pangs of your overworn spirit. It were a melancholy pleasure to dwell upon the virtues and accomplishments of your late beloved husband ; but the subject is too painful for me, and, in the confidence that he is in the enjoyment of an everlasting happiness, such as, my dear , even you could not have realized to him on earth, I hope that you will support your spirits both for your own and your children’s sake, and look forward to that brighter anf happier world in which we shall go to those "ho cannot return to us. (od comfort you, dear : Your affectionate and sorrowing friend, To Mrs. New York, July sth, My DEAR if anything could have caused me especial pain, it was the news of your sad be reavement. How Iremember your dear child! Affect:onate, lively, and intelligent ever displaying a thoughtfulness beyond his years, and holding forth hopes of happi- ness in after times which will scarcely bear reflection. It has, indeed, been a heavy blow, and I scarcely know how to talk of consolation usiaer so bitter an affliction. But think, my dear - , of One who “‘careth for all,” who loves little children beyond others and think of the bright and never-er ding futrss ey x a 4 a » . eer Te ee a <—sse eS 1 . ae ed Lo oe Saws oe ee ee Suk Ee dni bid deen Fd eel os a a ae aatel- S q NOTED TATA SATE Se a esa eaLcadoal aad Pear tiena ee raids are ee Meekikeaaataad De tee AR SNP il) SL IE IIE ESRD PENT NT OE = Te BAG Se mae ae ee ee a ROR a 2 BPC A el a es SOS oe ORS RA ee -§ : a: THE SAME, ON A REVERSE OF FORTUNE ANNOUNCING TO A LADY THE DEATH OF HER SISTER RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL, OCCASIONS. © Hife of that dear child, whose spirit has passed away but for a brief period, whose sovz only waits in heaven to hail the mother from whom he has been parted. an consolations are weak and poor. May a higher powe: Qe 4 can Say no More ; num rn as £ W i eg annot J 2 do that which I ca Ever sincerely yours, STATEN ISLAND, January 3, Lam truly pained to hear of the melancholy change in your circumstances. T had that your husband’s position and connections would have prevented the possibility hoped b | ofhis embarking in any scheme where there seemed room for uncertainty. But, unhappily, 5 Siw oA Cc > 4 ; : 3 : the speculative spirit of the age is too seductive to be easily withstood, and we are every day hearing of families being reduced to absolute poverty, more from mischance than ce Vc > + | But you must not only cheer up, but labor to cheer your husband likewise. Let him find that he possesses a wife who will not display her annoyance at the deprivation of many (perhaps unnecessary) luxuries of life, and whose determination to econom1.zé ill make poverty seem less poor, and whose affection will insure him that comfort hich the wealthiest position, without undivided affection, would wholly fail to realize, [ t - at matters as hopeless. Although changed in your means, you have not lost in character. Your true friends look upon you with the same eyes a¢ low and insincere you ought not, cannot care. Besides, # favorable change must result from your husband’s persevering and consistent efforts ; and by the exercise of economy, and the patient submission toa few privations, you may ere long fully retrieve the position you have already adduced, and which legit mately belongs to you. Th << and happiness may soon spring out of the present unfavorable condition That success and happiness may soon spring f p 1 formerly, and for the sha t of things, is the hearty and earnest wish of, Yours ever affectionately, ‘To Mrs. --——- jACKSON, Miss., May 18, ware of the painful and serious illness under which your deat sister has been suffering . but, perhaps, you have not been fully sensibl of its dangerous tendency, and of the fears always entertained by those around her, that its termination would be fatal. Would that our fears had been without foundation ; but Iam reluctantly led to tell you that our worst anticipations have been toc mournfully realized, ix poor sister having expired (/ast evening), though, it is consolatory to state, with sttle bodily suffering. She had borne her affliction with the fortitude of a Christian, and retained her faculties to her last moments, yielding her breath in full peace of mind, and convinced ‘hat she was leaving this earthly state for a better and a happier in anothet ae © - - ra SS bed) ood 4 Od » © pe —) 0 Cy oO oO a) sa) 4 woria. Your dear :nother is in sich a state of prostration, that she finds the task of writing ; ; L to you too painiul for her feelings, and has expressed her wish that I, the intimate friend of your late sister, should be the communicant of the sad intelligence. She desires me to say how much your presence would help to console, not only herself, but also yout father, and the whole of the family. They hope, therefore, to see you by the earliest 3 opportunity, and request me to send you their best love. Accept, dear madam, my sincerest condolence under this sad .bereavement ané affliction, anc Believe me to remain, Ever yours. sincerely, a oo Bo Mrs, -—»—sYHOMAS GRAY’S LETTER ON THE DEATH OF 4IS AUNT THE COUNTESS OF HERTFORD’S REPLY TO DR. BURNET PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. [This letter on the death of his aunt, Mrs. Mary Antrobus, who died the sth of November, is written by Thomas Gray, the author of the celebrated Elegy in a Country Church Yard, and many other beautiful poets , se was a man of great genius and elevated mind, though open to every affection and tender attachment ; he refused with steadiness, the situation of Poet Laureate, which was offered him by the Crown. He was bora in 1716, and died in 1772]. 99 The unhappy news I have just received from you equally surprises and afflicts me. I have lest a person I loved very much, and have been used to from my infancy ; but am much more concerned for your loss, the circumstances of which I forbear to dwell upon, as you must be too sensible of them yourself; and will, I fear, more and more need a consolation that no one can give, except He who has preserved her to you so many years, and at last, when it was His pleasure, has taken her from us to Himself ; and perhaps if we reflect upon what she left in this life, we may look upon this as an instance of His goodness both to her and to those that loved her. She might have languished many years before your eyes in a continual increase c! pain, and totally helpless; she might have long wished to end her misery, without being able to attain it; or perhaps even lost all sense and yet continued to breathe, a sad spectacle to such as must have felt more for her than she could have done for herself, However you may deplore your own loss, yet think that she is at last easy and happy ; and has now more occasion to pity us than we her. I hope and beg you will sunpori yourself with that resignation we owe to Him who gave us our being for our good, an? who deprives us of it for the same reason. SIR: I am very sensibly obliged by the kind compassion you express for me, under nix heavy affliction. The Meditations you have furnished me with, afford the stronges? motives for consclation that can be offered to a person under my unhappy circumstance The dear lamented son I have lost, was the pride and joy of my heart ; but I hope I ma be the more easily excused for having looked cn him in this light, since he was not se from the outward advantages he possessed, but from the virtues and rectitude of biz mind. (p m SQ ta s * te eS & 6 a> The prospects which flattered me, in regard to him, were not drawn from his dis- tinguished rank, or from the beauty of his person, but from the hopes that his example would have been serviceable to the cause of virtue, and would have shown the younger part of the world, that it was possible to be cheerful without being foolish or vicious, and to be religious without severity or melancholy. His whole life was one uninter- rupted course of duty and affection to his parents ; and when he found the hand of death upon him, his only regret was to think on the agonies which must rend their hearts ; for he was perfectly contented to leave the world, as his¢ with any presumptuous sins, and he hoped his errors would be forgiven. Thus he resigned his innocent soul into the hands of a merciful Creator on the evening of his birthday, which completed him nineteen. You will not be surprised, sir, that the death of such a son should occasion the deepest sorrow ; yet at the same time it leaves us the most comfortable assurance, that he is happier than our fondes% wishes and care could have made him, which must enable us to support the remaindes oi years which it shall please God to allot for us kere withou murmuring or discontent, and quicken our endeavors to prepare ourselves to follow to that happy place where ous dear valuable child is gone hefore us. 1 beg the gontinuance of your prayers, and am, : Sit, yours, ete., ad ee ew nm ok ’ . - s - ew ~~ * Pa - a Oe ett g , hd a ea de cn ee ee Se Ralke dnile ttn b. Se Depe day +. on, . Parent vat oma GO PE PPB OB. te ee eine daniel De i eh ed e Bteto. . a eeAS 5 ae x De Yo LL Te ta on nce) latin SN aoe eect nyc pe a Mehiektaautaad Kh II PD id) ot wlth REE EINE EEN TE TS ee eo aa nea PST AA RR HDS Sua ash nial A IRC a I ory Sia a ee Pa } MA : : a ~ 8 | | ¥OO FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL T0 A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF WER CHILD PRESENTATION OF A WATCH ANSWER RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Lramincton, December Io, Dear, DEAR MRs. SMITH: What can I do but just weep with you! I can only guess what this sorrow is. Only I know it must be the greatest, except ove, which could come to you. That dear little, beautiful thing! He looked so sweet and happy when I saw him; no baby face ever haunted me as, somehow, his did. If you could only see him now, how beautiful he must be now that he has seen Jesus, and shines in the light of God. It is even more wonderful to think of that great transition for a baby than for a grown person ; one cannot imagine the sudden expansion into such knowledge and conscious joy. I was looking back this morning upon long memories of soul-trials, years of groping and stumbling and longing, sinning and sorrowing, of heart weariness and faintness, temptation, and failure; all these things which I suppose every Christian must pass through, more or less, at some stage Or other on the way home; and the first distinct thought which came through the surprise and sorrow at the sad news was, ‘‘ That dear little redeemed one is spared all ¢#s, taken home without any of these roughest rough- nesses of the way; he will never fear doubt or sin, zever grieve his Saviour. Is it not the very best and kindest thing that tender Saviour could do for him? Only it is not what you meant when you prayed that he might be /zs own. But Jetier he is with Aim at once and forever, and waiting for you to come home. I am only writing all this because my heart is full, and must pour out a little. I know we cannot comfort,—only Jesus can; and I shall go and plead long and intensely for this as soon as I have closed my letter. He must be specially “* touched’’ in sucha sorrow, for he knows by actual experience what human love is. ‘Three such great sorrows in one year! How specially he must be watching you in this furnace ! Yours with deepest sympathy, LETTERS ACCOMPANYING GIFTS. PITTSBURGH, Pa., Nov. 3, Mr. WitiiamM McLEAN. The valuable service which you have long rendered to the firm whose names are subscribed below, calls for a formal acknowledgment. While it must be evident to you that we have appreciated your personal qualities and the efficiency you have shown in our employ, it affords us pleasure to send you a more substantial testimonial than meré words can convey. Please accept the accompanying watch as an expression of our good will and our sense of the eminent service you have rendered. Sincerely yours, JoHN Hawser, B. G. BERGEN, > Hercules Iron Company. EpmunpD Day, Mr. Wmiam McLEAN. BELLEFONTE, Pa., Nov. 5, Messrs. Joun Hawser, B. G. Bercen, EpmunD Day: GENTLEMEN—I hardly know which is the greater, my gratification or surprise, at the beautiful and unexpected gift just received from your hands. Words seem too cold to to express my thanks and the pleasure I feel at receiving such a testimonial to my services.PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. {Of Gentlemen, through the twenty years during which we have been associated, f have found you upright and honorable ; and this token of your esteem increases, if that were possible, the high regard I have always entertained for you. Believe me, with sentiments of profound respect, Your faithful servant, To the Hercules Iron Co. . WILLIAM McLEAN, Miss Gountp: recreR Please accept the flowers herewith sent, with the wish that your pathway in lite ACCOMPANYING tllay always be strewn with roses. Sincerely, your friend, REOQUQUET JAMES GLENWOOD. PHILADELPHIA, May 20, My Dear Mrs. PRICE: cee roa May I request your acceptance of the inclosed tickets for the afternoon performance MATINEE at the Academy to-day ? I am sure you and the young ladies would enjoy the play (The Old Homestead). I am just leaving town, or would call in person. Yours most truly, Mrs. M. E. Price, 404 Crown Street. HENRY BAKER. TRENTON, May 10, Mr. J. PR. Davis, Akron, O. DEAR FRIEND: I send you what you have so often asked for—a photograph of myself. I think it ACCMPANYING cats ; : APHOTOGRAPH & good one, and hope it will please you, and that when you see it you may be reminded of the many pleasant hours we have spent together. Write and tell me what you think of it, Yours sincerely, ELLA WEBSTER. AKRON, O., June 1, 189-. DEAR MISS WEBSTER: Thanks for the capital likeness of your well-remembered face, which has just reached aa MOORE otis? “The expression is perfect. Hamlet tells Horatio that he can see his father with his ‘‘mind’s eye,” but though the memory is tenacious of the images of those who are dear to us, a good portrait of a friend seems to bring the face more palpably before us than any exercise of the mental vision. I shall keep the picture where I can pay my respects to it daily, and hope soon to see the fascinating original of which it is the shadow. Yours faithfully, J. B. DAVIS. MATRON BELLEVUE HOSPITAL : ~ I send you fifty baskets of fruit and flowers, which you will please distribute among ee THE the sufferers who receive the benefit of your patient care and loving sympathy. Trust: ee ing these gifts will bring some measure of good cheer to the poor unfortunates in yout hospital wards, I remain, etc., New York, May 27th. MRS. RUSSELL, SAGE. ad ~ — , oN a or Ce ees oe UN a % ~~ a CF P Pe ee ee Ee all . a ee ee ee PN ee pete re " Bac beatin ata Pn ee alRS § | a. s ee J F € Ds = Cs Fi a4 5 & rs & pS $ “2 a Ps FS iecfn ci ecb nen 3 Lae ke Dra ae oe Aa SP NA ot) Tia ea a acs lS at fal lg. hk ii aia oon caa ee ee ee eae - a 3 _ OM 8 ae ¥ i Bi ee y f ox } : a f 4 G3 TO A POOR FAP'LY FROM A GENTLEMAN TO A LADY WITH WHOM HE IS IN LOVE THE LADY’S ANSWER ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. aR Mrs. Morr: The parcel herewith sent will express to you my § My heart would do more if the ability were not wanting. Believe me, yours most sincerely, ympathy in your misfortuve. LOVE LETTERS. { DEAR Miss : I have three times attempted to give you a verbal relation of the contents of this fetter ; but my heart as often failed. I know not in what light it may be considered, only if I can form any notion of my own heart from the impression made upon it by your many amiable accomplishments, my happiness in this world will, in a great measure, depend on your answcr. My circumstances are independent, my you shall have the most undoubted proof. You hav at your aunt’s in Blank street, particularly my mother, with whom I now live. Your aunt will inform you concerning our family, and if it is to your satisfaction, I shall not only consider myself extremely happy, but shall also make it the principal study o/ my future life, to spend my days in the company of her whom I do prefer to all othery in the world. I shall wait for your answer with the utmost impatience. Most sincerely, your real admirer, character hitherto unblemished, of whick e already seen some of my relations DEAR SIR: I received your letter last night, and as it was on a subject I had not yet any thoughts of, you will not wonder when I tell you I was a good deal surprised. Although I have seen and familiarly conversed with you at different times, yet I had not the most distant thoughts of your making proposals of such a nature. Some of your sex have often asserted that we are fond of flattery, and very much pleased with praise ; I shall therefore suppose you one of that class, and excuse you for those eticomiums bestowed upon me in your letter: but I am afraid, were I to comply with your proposals, you would soon be convinced that the charms you mention, and seem to value so much, are merely exterior appearances, which like the summet’s flower, will very soon fade, and all those mighty professions of love will end, at last. either in indifference, or which is worse, disgust. An appearance of sincerity runs through your letter, but there is one particular te which I have a very strong objection ; you say that you live with your mother, yet you do not say that you have either communicated your sentiments to her or to your othe; relations. I must freely and honestly tell you, that as I would not disoblige my own relations, neither would I, on any consideration, admit of any addresses contrary te the inclinations of yours. If you can clear up this to my satisfaction, I shall send you @ more explicit answer, and am, Your most obedient, humble servant, DEAR Miss I return you a thousand thanks for your letter, and it is with the greatest pleasure I can clear up to your satisfaction the matter you doubted of. Before I wrote to youl communicated the affair to my two cousins, but had not courage enough to mention it to my mother, but that is now over, and nothing, she says, would give her greater pleasure than fo see me married to a young lady of your amiable character. But to convince you of my sincerity, she has sent the enclosed, written with her own hand, I solemnly assure you I am totally ignorant of its contents, except that she told me it was in approbation of my suit. If you will give me leave to wait on you, I shall thes be able to explain things more particularly t remain, as ever, your real lover,FROM THE GENTLEMAN’S MOTHER TO © THE LADY THE ANSWER THE YOUNG LADY TO THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN FROM THE SAME PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. 103 DEAR Miss: If you find anything in these lines improperly written you will Candidly excuse it. aS coming from the hands of a parent, in behalf of an only, beloved, and dutiful son. My dear Charles has told me that you have made such an impression on him, that he knows not how to be happy in any one else, and it gives me great happiness to find that he has placed his affections on so worthy an object. Indeed it has been my principal study to instruct him in the principles of our holy religion: well knowing that those who do not fear God will never pay any regard to domestic duties. His father died when his son was only ten months old, and being deprived of the parent, all my conso- lation was that I had his image left in the boy. I nursed him with all the tenderness possible, and even taught him to read and write. When he was of a proper age I sent him to a boa college. Since his return he has resided constantly wit one with whom he has had any connection has been present, my dear girl, I am in a very sickly condition, and although I have concealed it from him, yet, in all human probability, my time in this world will not be long. Excuse the indulgent partiality of a mother, when I tell yo you can never place your affection on a more worthy young ma endowed with more real worth than thousands of others whom I have known; and I have been told of instances of his benevolence which he has industriously concealed, I have only to add further, that the only worldly consideration now upon my mind is to see him happily married, and then my whole attention shall be fixed on that place where I hope we shall all enjoy eternal felicity. Iam, dear Miss, Your sincere well wisher, tding school, and afterwards to h me, and his conduct to every equal to my utmost wishes. At uit is my real opinion n than my son. Heis DEAR MADAM: I will excuse the fondness ui a tender mother for her only child. Before I received yours I had heard of the unaffected piety and the many accomplishments of your son, so that I was in no way surprised at what you said concernin g him. I do assure you, madam, that I would prefer an alliance with you before even nobility itself, and I think it must be my own fault if I ever repent calling you mother. I was going to say, that you had known but few pleasures in this life, to be deprived of your husband so soon, and the rest of your life spent under so many infirmities. But your letter convinces me that you have felt more real pleasure in the practice of virtue, and resignation to the Divine Will, than ever can be had in any, nay, even the greatest temporal enjoyments. I have sent enclosed a few lines to your son, to which I refer you for a more explicit answer I remain, your sincere well wisher, My DEAR CHARLES: I received yours, together with one enclosed from your mother, and congratulate you. on the happiness you have had in being brought up under so pious and indulgent a parent. I hope that her conduct will be a pattern for you to copy after, in the whole course of your future life ; it is virtue alone which can make you happy. With respect to myself, I freely acknowledge that I have not at p-esent any reason to reject your offer, although I cannot give you a positive answer until I have first consulted with my guardian. Monday next you may be sure of hearing from me ; meanwhile I cannot do less than sub- scribe myself, Most affectionately yours, My DEAR CHARLES: In my last I told you that you should hear from me soon, and therefore I now sit down to fulfill my promise. I communicated your proposal to Mr. he had written to his correspondent in — , told me as follows: , who, after Sd a ee er oo a a a es Afi. Pees ie a a Fue . a a Ce ee he ee3 . BX PM er eee Tee TL a malleable iafined ee rds a bdo a PO Ria SEA NPM) od ips "i ret sete Sea PRS a ae ak Aa dl ld “8 ; e 4 i a ; a: = Ss Q S. ri if ‘ Ki 2 a: 8 om ES = of Bs § bi ad . aC H | | aO4 FROM A LADY TO A GENTLEMAN COMPLAINING OF HIS INDIFFERENCE A GENTLEMAN TO THE LADY’S MOTHER tHE FATHER’S ANSWER RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. ~ young gentleman, and the information I e of your choice, but must confess that if our union, I should be acting contrary ath bed. You may,” said he ‘‘ com- nd may every happiness attend you “Miss, I have inquired concerning the have received is such, that I not only approv I did not do everything in my power to forward y to the request of your father, when he lay on his de municate this to your lover as soon as you please, a both in time and eternity.” And now, have I not told you enough? Some, perhaps, might think too much ; but I am determined to begin with as much sincerity as I could wish to practice if standing in the presence of my Maker. To expect the same from you is reasonable ; 1 look for it, and shall be very unhappy if disappointed. But I will hope for the dest, and doubt not but the religious education bestowed on you by your worthy mother, will operate on the whole of your future conduct in life. You may, therefore, lay aside as your future wife. the tedious formality of courtship and write to me Yours with the greatest affection, SIR: However light you may make of promises, yet lam foolish enough to consider them as something more than mere trifles ; and am likewise induced to believe that the man who voluntarily breaks a promise, will not pay much regard to an oath; and if so, in what ligbt must I consider your conduct? Did I not give you my prontise to be yours, and had you no other reason for soliciting tian merely to gratify your own vanity? A brutal gratification, indeed, to triumph over the weakness of a woman whose greatest fault was that she loved you. I say loved you, for it was in consequence of that passion I first consented to become yours. Has your conduct, sir, been consistent with my submission, or your solemn profes- sion? Is it consistent with the character of a gentleman, first to obtain a woman's consent, and afterwards boast that he had discarded her, and found one more agreeable to his wishes? Do not equivocate ; I have too convincing proofs of your insincerity ; Isaw you yesterday walking with Miss ,and am informed that you have proposed marriage to her. Whatever you may think, sir, I have a spirit of disdain, and even of resentment, equal to your ingratitude, and can treat the wretch with a proper indifference, who can make so slight a matter of the most solemn promises. Miss may become your wife; but the superstructure cannot be lasting which is built on such a foundation. J leave you to the sting of your own conscience. I am the INJURED. DEAR SIR: Having made an application to your beloved daughter for her hand, she has given her consent, provided you and her mother will condescend to sanction it. This, I flatter myself, you will do, my circumstances, family, and character, being well known to you both. I shall only add, that my happiness or misery through life depends upon your reply ; and that I will make any settlement upon your dear daughter which you may judge necessary. My happiness will be founded on the promoting of hers, with the possession of your esteem and approbation. Entreating you to give a favorable reply, I ~ have the honor, my dear sir, to subscribe myself, Your humble servant My DEAR SIR: Tn reply to the letter you did me the honor of writing, I must remark, that neither my wife nor myself have ever interfered with the wishes of our excellent daughter ; het x + . 4 = ; whole conduct being governed with such prudence that no room was left for adviceTHE GENTLEMAN TO THE LADY, INCLOSING HER PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. 10$ ghly gratified you will enjoy as much happiness In regard to ourselves, you may be n; were this not the case, we should est treasure. ife entirely coincides with what I have said ; we Shall, therefore, expect next, when everything shall be arranged for your union. I am, dear sir, Yours, very affectionately, Your affection being mutual, we have only to observe that we shall be hi in giving our girl to you, and we doubt not but that in the married state as this life will admit of. assured that you possess our respect and affectio not so readily resign to your protection our great My good w to see you on My DEAREST HARRIET: I cannot adequately express the happiness I feel, in finding that my letter to your respected parents has been crowned with success, and I flatter myself, notwithstanding FATHER’S REPLY YOUr temporizing with my feelings, in thus reserving your avowal of a reciprocal A WIDOW, IN ANSWER 0 PROPOSALS ! IN THE NEGATIVE attachment, that you, my dear girl, will not be unsusceptible to its value, but condescend to ackn wledge an equal happiness with myself at its contents. In token of the confi- dence with which your dear letter has inspired me, I beg leave to present you with a trifle, the acceptance of which will be highly flattering to him whose image it portrays; and permit me the fond pleasure of indulging a belief that my lovely Harriet wlll esteem the trifle, in affectionate remembrance of the original. In obedience to your father’s command, I shall wait upon him at the appointed time ; till then, my beloved Harriet, adieu. Ever your devoted admirer, DEAR SIR: I take the first opportunity of acknuuwledging the receipt of the flattering letter with which you have favored me. You wish to know whether I am willing to enter again into the marriage state, and in the event of my being so, whether I should be adverse to admitting you in the quality of asuitor. I assure you, sir, I feel flattered by the latter question ; and as to the former, I can only say that I have no dislike to entering again into that state. But our acquaintance is at present imperfect, and we are comparatively strangers to each other’s tastes and tempers. I need scarcely observe that an intimate knowledge of such matters is absolutely requisite, before we can decide whether we are fitted for enjoying together a partnership in life. Meanwhile, I have no objection to allowing such freedom of acquaintance as shall enable us both to arrive at this knowledge, and can therefore only say, in conclusion, that the commence- ment of your addresses will meet with no obstacle from, Dear Sir, Yours most faithfully, To , Esq. DEAR SIR: ; I have just perused the flattering letter with which you have favored me. Of late, whilst enjoying the pleasure of your company, I have not failed to observe that your behavior towards myself has been more than ordinarily attentive, and that on more than one occasion you have rendered yourself of essential service to my interests. Such conduct has not failed in attaining my favor and friendship, but has not had the effect of inspiring a deeper passion—a passion which I have totally renounced, whether on account of the advance of years (as the case may be), or of attachment to the memory of my late husband, it is immaterial for me to state. Had I allowed myself to suppose that the attentions to which I have just alluded were prompted by any other feeling m SORTS Me Pe Wn Set ar ar aN Ti et ee hae Sa as : ee ee ee a | ra a os eek eT 5's 4 ee ae ate ee 3 sos a shot ' 7 eevee atta Se a ena eid a olena S “a a =o .€ z # @ ¢ mt + ES Fa a Fs BE a Ra 2 rs Did alata aad Dee SE A ONIN Dose bektaiat ee a NS EE ea i ook g sa § : f ' & oS = ee - a ae 3 os é : ki a : si s | . { oF = a 100 ALOVER’S QUARREL EXPLAINING AWAY AN APPARENT SLIGHT ALOVER TOA FATHER ON HIS ATTACHMENT TO THe DAUGHTER A FATHER’S ANSWER IN THE NEGATIVE iN THE AFFIRMATIVE RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS. but that of simple friendship, I should certainly have endeavored to repress then. Hence you may infer that, while I decline the honor of your addresses, I still remain, with best wishes for your future welfare, Tear Sir, Your sincere friend, To , Esq. My DEAR ~ : It is with pain I write to you in aught that can seem like a strain of reproach, but I confess that your conduct last night both surprised and vexed me. Your marked approbation of the attentions paid to you by ——— was as obvious as your neglect of myself. Believe me, Iam in no way given to idle jealousy—still less am I selfish or unmanly enough to wish to deprive any girl on whom I have so firmly fixed my affec- tions of any pleasure to be obtained in good society. But my peace of mind would be lost forever did I believe that I have lost one atom of your affection. Pray write, and assure me that you still preserve your undivided affection for, Your devoted but grieved, My DEAREST ———: How grieved am I that you should think me capable of wavering in my affection towards you, and inflicting a slight upon one in whom my whole hopes of happiness are centered! Believe me, my attentions to Miss ——— were never intended for anything more than common courtesy. My long acquaintance with her father, and my knowledge of her amiable character—as well as the circumstance of her being a comparative stranger to the ———’s, —such were my sole reasons for paying more attention to her than I might otherwise have done. Pray rest confident in the belief that my affection for you is as unchanging as my regret is great that I should ever have given you cause to doubt it, and believe me, Dearest, yours ever sincerely and devotedly, DEAR SIR: As I scorn to act in any manner that may bring reproach upon myself and family, and hold clandestine proceedings unbecoming in any man of character, I take the liberty of distinctly avowing my love for your daughter, and humbly request your permission to pay her my addresses, as I flatter myself my family and expectancies will be found not unworthy of your notice. I have some reason to imagine that I am not altogether disagreeable to your daughter ; but I assure you, honestly, that I have not as yet endeavored to win her affections, for fear it might be repugnant to a father’s will. I am, Sir, Your most obedient servant, DEAR SIR: I make no doubt of the truth of your assertions, relative to yourself, character, and connections ; but as I think my daughter too young to enter into such a serious engage-' ment, I request I may hear no more of your passion for the present ; in every other respect, I am, Sir, Your most obedient, DEAR SIR: There is so much candor and honor apparent in your letter, that to withhold my consent would be both ungenerous and unjust. As the duty of a father demands, I shall first make some necessary inquiries, assuring you that I would never oppose myFROM A 'LTED LOVER PROPER FORMS FOR LETTERS. 107 daughter’s choice, except I had some very just reason to imagine it would be productive of ill consequences, for I am convinced that in the matriage state, happiness consists only in reciprocal affection. You may, therefore, depend upon hearing from me in a few days; till then I remain Your very faithful servant, Miss CLERKWELL : I must send you one more communication, to say that I could never wish to secure the hand of a lady who did not reciprocate my affection. I bow to your decision, and content myself with the reflection that ‘‘there are as good fish in the sea as ever were caught,” and as good, I believe, as the cne who disdains to nibble my hook. While my attentions have been sincere, I am not likely to die of disappointment, and do not intend to give any occasion for such an epitaph on my tombstone as: AHvze les a jilted lover. Very truly yours. FORMS FOR WEDDING CARDS AND INVITATIONS, Z . A cequert eo ay Qietence av the We OAM hee ff gy % Oartatla sry fi 2 a f ne Pe Ldednerday, Fettuaty eleventthy, v f rad d at twetwe o clock nacw, 3 eteritute, Ve. Pa ee cas Pat CO Saipan inde AIS IER Petes Sc nC allied sc RH 5 he are ae Y ‘ ou SOL We Wea Denn SS lal : he ented P Eee ae ead ¥ ee ee NN eal - i ODS SDE Sint aceltalenC n y s < Bit Loe Sei sec ed smarts Diba an vata Ma a MTOR Ae cha gen a MP Pte Teeeteat Sd tele Cad” Dea al ide Ia ee eee ee aera iW OM aaa ee a ak Sa oS Pea Ps Dai se - is § ae: cs 3 _& a§ 8 RULES OF ETIQUETTE FOR ALL OCCASIONS, SSS... ere LEP LT AINE LE | A Oro i bhuret of the Holy Trintty, TJuenrticth and Walnut dtreets, Thurrday euentndg, February 14, 189 , Yathan HN. kylie tk, Foo: SO Yadiren Avenue and Turenty fourth dtreet, Tucrday euening, Aiheit mo Beethe, Rove Hay Namitten. Philadelthhin, at 6 ojcleck. beawies U- Disbrew, bertemony, HMadirorn Seuate bturet, at 7 = ele 2/22 27 4? Ps YAY 9 4/a 2 PHuacy OLvCutzHg, fe LCMHACY Hthitte, ¢ a Co o Y A we ff Zo ai lM SE (Che ORS az 1, of 4+ al ot eadaand .. Ww ae $me apove orm Can de Vai ied tO suit the | wed dding, upon white paper in silvered letters; anniversary. ‘The invitation to a wooden | to a golden wedding, upon heavy white or wedding should be printed on a thin sheet of | cream-colored paper in gilt letters; to a dia- wood; toa e WwW eden on a sheet of tin | mond wedding, on the heaviest and finest i wedding, on cards | paper. While the envelopes cannot in every thin ae finish ; toa china wedding, | instance be of the same material as that on n paper with a dead-white surface resem- | which the invitation is printed, they should bling the surface of china-ware; to asilver ! as nearly as possible correspond, hd oeCHAPTER X1i. Man and Woman, or Suitable Rules for Love-Making. AN was made for woman, and woman | equally forman. How shall they | treat each other? How shall they | with their lips what their Creator spcke come to understand their mutual relations and duties? It is lofty work to write upon this subject what ought to be written. Mis- takes, fatal blunders, hearts and lives wrecked, homes turned into bear-gardens, tears, mis- ties blasted hopes, awful tragedies—can you same the one most prolific cause of all these? If our young people were taught what they ought to know—if it were told them from infancy up—if it were drilled into them and they were made to understand what now is all a mystery to them—a darl happier, homes would be brighter, lives would be worth living and the world wouid be better. This is now the matter—matter grave and serious enough—which we have in hand. There are gems of wisdom founded on health, morality, happiness, which should be put | within reach of every household in our whole bruad land. Jt is a most important, yet | aeglected subject. People are sqneamish, cursed with mock modesty, ashamed to speak through their own minds and bodies when he formed them. It is timesuch nonsense== nonsense shall we say ?—rather say it is time such fatal folly were withered and cursed by the sober common sense and moral duty of universal society. Professor O. S. Fowler, the eminent lecturer, who made the subjects of love, courtship, marriage and domestic life his study for half a century, shall be permitted to | instruct, warn, Inspire, direct and benefit k, | those who peruse the pages of this practical ' vague, unriddled mystery—hearts would be | work. Here is what he says: Courtship! Its theme, how denghtiul\ Its memories and associations, how charm: ing! Its lux curies the most luxurious prof: fered to mortals! Its results how far reach- ing, and ee No mere lover’s fleet- ing bauble, but life’s very greatest work | None are equally portentous, for good a and evil. j , 4 — Qe i pe: [2 2xce Pate God’s provisions for man’s happiness axe . Ps ‘ly Mt i 4 me 2 he” ‘sip Mera see tina’ Ra, eu eS ate ae es eee oe te Cee Lae ¢ ee ee ae Sa er PIR. WE > 2 " ee . rn ee EN a - nel ae all a. Pa Ieee Tees aL reppin s Pah WORT A ed aaah ola ab ese Meteantaed Ia AR ath SP LPI ah.) a ripen fs ra a na ae a ih LAT at Sh tly OS bd | —- . a a ! — ae 4 4 ; | 8 Es o - oe . o§ . | $12 noundless and endless. How great are the pleasures of sight, motion, breathing! How much greater those of mind! Yet a right Love surpasses them all; and can render us all happier than our utmost imaginations can depict; and a wrong more miserable. ‘Though it is crdained to create offspring, not. for pastime, yet as a luxury it has no peer, but stands first ; so that mere self-interest commands all to learn and fulfil its right conditions, and avoid its wrong. Amazing Ignorance. Right love-making is more important than right selection ; because it affects conjugal life far the most. Men and women need knowledge concerning it more than touch- ing anything else. ‘Their fatal errors show their almost universal ignorance concerning it. ‘That most married discords originate in wrong love-making instead of selection, 1s proved by Love usually declining; while adaptation remains the same. Right courtship will harmonize natural discordants, much more concordants, still more those already in Love; which only some serious causes can rupture. ‘The whole | power of this Leve element is enlisted in its perpetuity, as are all the self-interests of both. As Nature’s health provisions are so perfect that only its great and long-continued out- rage can break it; so her conjugal are so numerous and perfect that but for outrageous violations of her love laws all who once begin can and will grow more and more affectionate and happy every day. Any man who can begin to elicit any woman’s Love, can perfectly infatuate her more and more, solely by courting her right ; and all women who once start a man’s Love —wo very difficult achievement—can get out of him, and do with him, anything possible she pleases. ‘The charming and fascinating 1 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. power of serpents over birds is as nothing compared with that a well-sexed woman. cat wield over a well-sexed man, and he oves her. Ladies, recall your Love hey-day. You had your lover perfectly spell-bound, He literally knew not what he did or would do. With what alacrity he sprang to im dulge your every wish, at whatever cost, anc do exactly as you desired! If you had only courted him just right, he would have con- tinued to grow still more so till now. ‘This is equally true of a man’s power over every woman who once begins tolove him. What would you give to again wield that same bewitching wand? Sexual Depravity. Parents who teach their children to couri right, need have no fears for their virtue. Forestalling that monster vice, sexual depra- vity, throughout all its forms, is just as easy as courting right; which is just as easy as breathing. Kuowing what is due between lovers is its chief means. Young folks in- tend no wrong, but by following current customs embitter and rupture each other’s Love ; which drives them intosensualities, 1 it does not crucify their gender. We beg special attention to this declaration, and its vouchers. The love-making art which can effect ali this and much more, thus becomes well worth knowing; yet is one of “the dost arts.» Since the art of gallantry is thus valuable, how much more that of Love- making ?—only its perfection. Disseminating scientific knowledge con- cerning this much-joked-about subject of Love-making, thus becomes a work of phil- anthropy and social reform far transcending all others. Yet who ever teaches or learns anvthing concerning it? What wonder that nearly all thus ignorantly spoil their mar- riage? Why not give and take lessons inyet maritally spoiled. But intuition, our own selfhooa, is Netnie’s highest teacher, and infallible; and tells all, by her “still, small voice within,” whether and just wherein they are making Love Every false step forewarns right or wrong. ail against itself; and great is their fall who stumble, Courtship has its own inherent consciousness, which must be kept inviolate. Adapt Yourself to the One You Would Win. Then throw yourself, O courting youth, upon your own interior sense of propriety and right, as to both the beginning and con- ducting of courtship, after learning all you can from these pages, and have no fears as to results, but quietly bide them, in the most perfect assurance of their happy eventuality ! “What can Ido or omit to advance my suit? prevent dismissal? make my very best impression? guarantee acceptance? touch my idoi’s heart? court just right?” This is what all true courters say. Cultivate and manifest whatever qualities you would awaken. You inspire in the one you court the precise feeling and traits you yourself experience. This law effects this result. Every faculty in either awakens it-- self in the other. ‘This is just as sure as gtavity itself. Hence your success must come from wzthin, depends upon yourself, not the one courted. Study the specialties, likes and dislikes in particular, of the one courted, and humor and adapt yourself to them. Be extra careful not to prejudice him or her against you by awakening any faculty in reverse. ‘Thus whatever rouses the other’s resistance against you, antagonizes all the MAN AND WOMAN, OR SENSIBLE RULES FOR LOVE- swurtship as much as in music, or grammar? Is it less important? Parents should teach their children early, and those taught “ by sad experience” should instruct ¢hose not MAKING Eis Love for you irtito hatred. Whateve: wounds ambition reverses all the other feel. ings, to your inj ury; what delights it, turrm: them in your favor. All the faculties create, and their action constitutes human nature ; which lovers will do right well to study To give a tew illustrations, An elderly man with points in his favot, having selected a woman eighteen years younger, but most intelligent and feminine, had two young rivals, each having more points in theirs, and came to his final test, She thought much of having plenty of money. ‘Theysaw they could “ent him ont” by showing her that he was poor; she til! then thinking his means ample. All fout met around her table, and proved his poverty. His rivals retired, sure that they had made “his cake dough,” leaving him with her. It was his turning-point. Headdressed him- self right to her affections, saying little about money matters, but protesting an amount of devotion for her to which she knew they were strangers; and left his suit right on this one point; adding: “You know I ean make money; know how intensely I esteem, admire, idolize, and love you. Wz3ll not my admitted greater af: fection, with my earnings, do more for you than they with more money, but less Love? ” Her clear head saw the point. Her heart melted into his. She said “yes,” He triumphed by this atfectional spirit alone over their much greater availability. Manifesting the domestic affections and virtues, a warm, gushing friendly nature, fondness for children and home, inspires a man’s Love most of all, while evincing talents by a man peculiarly enamors woman. In short, the Love-inspiring art consists in manifesting lovable qualities, particularly other faculties, and proportionally turns the domestic, those which promote Love's great end, perfect children. Sd Oe ee De Se ee a ae Po ee a ae pee Se ae ae ed tm ee ~e y Cred eR. Ee a Pe es Fs a oS7 | . 2 BX fe - ES = -_# ‘ cS & 4 E Ps & A 3 g _ gi s a ok Se a a ae eta ee Get eg 9g BPO EEN Rak stale mG NEI TIED TOE NTT eee eee ane cee sehen _ Se ah a & ba ® B 2 a a P bi i 8 _ a i a) oc Securing the benediction of all four parents ’s certainly most desirable. Assenting to cheir courting, implies acquiescence in their , marriage; yet a formal one is desirable, and by letter its best form. If either parent objects, both lovers should try all possible means to win them over ; for their blessing and aid are most desirable, and antagonism injurious. You cannot afford to array your proposed family against their established one, #€ this can be avoided. Indeed, getting the mother in Love may be a first step for obtain- ing her daughter ; which her good-will greatly promotes, but ill, retards. At least, asking is much more politic than demand- ing. Establishing friendly relations all around is worth much patient assiduity and perseverance. Both should be loath to defy or provoke the antagonism of either Fremont and Jessie. Yet some parents deserve defiance. Whiist affectionate intelligent ones merit only filial obedience, yet those prejudiced for their own child and against the one chosen, especially who storm, blurt, and command a daughter to marry here and not there, deserve defiance, and to have Fremont’s bold card played against them. He loves and is loved by Jessie. Benton, enraged, forbids Fremont his house, and locks Jessie up ; who escapes, elopes, marries, and they return ; when Ber- , ton, finding himself fairly out-generalied, makes friends, and backs Fremont. ‘Those old enough to love and marry are old enough COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. sympathy are therefore divinely united : and, “Whom God hath joined together, let not inan put asunder ;”? much less adverse cir- cumstances. You now belong not to parents, but to yourselves and each to the other. Ful- filling this Divine mandate to love each other, and resisting all interference as you would attempts on your life, rewards gloriously ; while letting others break up a true Leve, punishes terribly, without exception. Nature will neither be molested nor violated without punishing. By the sacredness of Love and | the evils of its violation you are solemnly bound, each to yourself and the other, te consummate it. ‘Love Laughs at Locksmiths.” a EE Let neither adverse surroundings, nor tem- per, nor wounded pride, nor fear of want, nor persecution, nothing but utter impossibilities, prevent your marriage; else youarea traitor | to your highest natural obligations, and will | surely spoil yourself and each other. Defy | all difficulties, even dangers. If you must | bide your time, watch it. Commune with each other in spite of fate. Elope only as your last resort; yet when all other means | fail, if she wiil jump into your open arms, catch her, and, Priam like, scale all inter- vening battlements. Of course she must be willing, glad, to “‘ forsake father and mother, D>) ee, and cleave to you;” yet if thus willing, woe to both if you do not thus carry her cc 3 . . . 5 + “ : | off ‘a willing captive.’? Be wise, but de- to decide to whom. ‘Their parents’ rights | termined. Plan well, and execute boldly. are only advisory ; their own supreme. Our right to choose our own conjugal and ics crs “ ”? Have no | faint hearts” here, but courage. Strong wills find sure ways, and God speed parental partner is more sacred and inalien- | YOU. able than any other human right whatever, and cannot be taken away. Yet eloping for notoriety is despicable. That girl was silly who was sorry her father Your duty to yourself and each other is | gave consent, “ because she could not then paramount to parental authority, and all else. { get into the papers by a romantic elope: Those united to each other in a genuine love | ent 4. 99si gifted law student became thoroughly euamoreé with an excellent young lady ate tending the same school, who reciprocated his affection ; each more than satisfied with, and both intending to marry, each other, Yet her proud mother objected, that “he was not good enough for “er daughter.” Though the girl thought differently, and had done nothing to lessen his Love, yet his pride made him ignore her altogether. He met and passed her daily without recognition, till years afterwards his love conquered pride, and he re-proffered his hand; but she nad just engaged herself to another, while her heart still remained true to him. A man pre-eminently talented and moral, a woman most lovely and devoted, and both perfectly adapted to each other, were spoiled because her mother’s prizing hec daughter highest maddened him. For shame! He did not fake a lawyer’s view of ¢#at question. He should have cherished her Love, snapped his Snger at all others, and let nothing in the heavens above or earth beneath interrupt it. Marriage Spoiled. Relations, you shall not interfere, where éven parents may not. Make your own matches, and let others make theirs; especi- ally if you have bungled your own. One such bungle is one too many. The parties are betrothed. Their marriage s “fore-ordained” by themselves, its only rightful umpires, which all right-minded out- siders will try to promote, not prevent. How despicable to separate husbands and wives! Yet is not parting those married by a Love- spirit, equally sor Its mere legal form can- uot increase its validity. Marriage isa divine institution, and consists in their own personal betrothail. Hence breaking up a true Love- anion before its legal consummation, is just MAN AND WOMAN, OR SENSIBLE RULES FOR LOVE-MAKING. tre which is monstrous. All lovers whe allow it are its wicked partakers. Marrying in Haste. If anything specially requires the early Consummation of marriage, hasten it; yet cementing the affections is the great work in hand, which too close intimacy at first rather hinders than helps. As whatever grows has its natural period for maturing, so has Love. At engagement you have merely selected, so that your familiarity should be only intellec. tual, not affectional. You are yet more ac- quaintances than companions. As sur changes from midnight darkness into noon- day brilliancy, and heats, lights up, anc warms gradually, and as summer “ lingers in the lap of spring ;.” so marriage should dally in tke lap of courtship. Nature’s adolescence of Loveshould never be crowded into a premature marriage. ‘The more per | sonal, the more impatient it is ; yet to estab. { lish its Platonic aspect takes more time than is usually given it; so that undue haste puts it upon the carnal plane, which soon cloys, then disgusts. Coyness and modesty always accompany female Love, which involuntarily shrink from close masculine contact until its mental phase is sufficiently developed to overrule the antagonistic intimacies of marriage. Besides, why curtail the luxuries of court. ship? Should haste to enjoy the luscious. ness of summer engulf the delights of spring? The pleasures of courtship are unsurpassed throughout life, and quite too great te be curtailed by hurrying marriage. And enhanc: ing or diminishing them redoubles of cur- tails those of marriage a hundred-fold more. A happy courtship promotes conjugal felicity more than anything else whatever. A neg: ress, asked why she didn’t marry, since she es bad as parting loving husband and wife: had so many making Love to her, replied : " - mai _ yee ee eS er aN eS " 7 — mae as J ae er ae ee Eee ene a ee i . ee ee * s ” 3 Fk a bs LS a _§ Ps Fs as ss f. be sccaDiLeds aketabiae Pao on a ae ee Oa aaa i aca A LUZ a hl OS he eee ROA od ok oaks ee = : : q - og . ae 46 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFP. “Eecause being courted is too great a laxury to be spoilt by marrying. ” No man should wait to make his pile. Two must acguive a competence conjointly, in order fully to really enjoy it together. This alone can give full zest to whatever pleasures it produces. The Proposal, Acceptance, and Yow. A formal proffer of marriage naturally “ollows a man’s selection and decision as to whom he will marry. Consent to cativass their mutual adaptations implies consent to marry, if all is found satisfactory ; yet a final test and consummation now become neces- sary, both to bring this whole matter to a focus, anid allow both to state, and obviate or waive, those objections which must needs | exist on both sides; including any improve- ments possible in either. The best time to state and waive or remove all objections, seeining and real, not already adjusted, is at bis proposal, and her acceptance. A verbal will do, but a written is much better, by facilitating future reference. A long future awaits their marriage; hence committing this its initial point to writing, so that both ean look back to it, is most desirable. And he can propose, and she accept, much better when alone, and they have all their faculties ander full control, than verbally, perhaps when excited. ‘Those same primal reasons for reducing all other contracts to writing obtain doubly in reference to matriage. You who fear awkwardness on paper, Te- member that true human nature always ap- pears well, even when poorly dressed. A diamond is no less brilliant because set in clay. Mode is nothing, reality everything. All needed to appear well is to fee! right, and express naturally what is felt. Saying plain- ly what you have to say, is all required. An anteserved tender, or dependent conditions plainly stated, is sufficient. nS The acceptance or rejection should aiso be unequivocal, or any contingencies stated, and waived if minor, but if they can neither be obviated nor compromised, should terminate their relations, that both may look elsewhere, If any bones of contention exist, now is the time to inter them finally, and to take the initiatory steps for perfecting both in each other’s eyes. Bear in mind that as yet your | relaticas are still those of business merely, because neither has acquired or conceded any right to love or be loved. Without pretend: ing to give model letters of proposal, accep ‘ance, or rejection, because varying circum: stances will vary each ad infinitum, the fol- lowing may serve as samples from which to work. “MUCH ESTEEMED FRIEND: As we have agreed to carivass our mutual adaptations for marriage, and my own mind is fully made up, a final decision now becomes necessary. “What I have learned of and from you confirms that high opinion of you which prompted my selection of you, and inspires a desire to consummate it. Your pleasing manner and mode of saying and doing things; your intelligence, taste, prudence, kindness, and many other excellencies, inspire my highest admiration. “ Will you let me love what I so much admire ? “Butimy affections are sacred. I can bestow them only on one who recifrocates them; will bestow them upon‘you, if you will bestow yours on me ; not otherwise ; for only mutuas love can render either happy. I can and will love you alone, with all my heart, provided you can and will love only me, with all of | yours. Do you accord me this privilege, om | this condition, for life, forever? I1 crave to make you my wife; to live with and fot you, and proffer you my whole being, with ! Honest, assidous toil, fidelity to business, whatMAN AND WOMAN, OR SEN cord me this privilege, on this condition? May I enshrine you as queen of my life? “Say wherein you find me faulty, or capable of improvement in your eyes, and I will do my utmost, consistently with my conscience, to render myself worthy and ac- ceptable to you. “JT wish some things were ditlerent in you—that you had better health, arose earlier, were less impulsive, knew more about keep- ing house, etc. ; yet these minor matters sink into insignificance in comparison with your many excellences, and especially that whole- souled affection obviously inherent in you. “ Deliberate fully, for this is a life affair, and if, in order to decide judiciously, you require to know more of me, ask me, or and Please reply as soon as you can well decide. “ Decline unless you accept cordially, and can love me trulv and wholly; but if you ean and will reciprocate my proffered affec- tion, say yes, and indicate your own time. and mode of our marriage. Meanwhile, with the highest regards, I am, and hope ever to remain, Yours truly, A: 5.” SIBLE RULES FOR LOVE-MAKING. 117 faients I possess, and all I can do to contri. dute to your creature comforts, De yOu ace consecrate my entite being, sou! and body, all I am and can become, to you alone; both according you the ‘ privilege’ you crave of loving me, and § craving’ a like one in re- turn. “Thank Heaven that this matter is settled; that you are in very deed mine, while I am yours, to love and be loved by, live and be lived with and for; and that my gushing affections have a final resting-place on one every way so worthy of the fullest reciprocai sympathy and trust. “The preliminaries of our marriage we will arrange whenever we meet, which I hope inay be soon. But whether sooner or later, or you are present or absent, I now considez myselt as wholly yours. and you all Mine and both give and take the fullest privilege of cherishing and expressing for you that whole-souled Love I find even now gushing up and calling for expression, Fondly hop | ing to hear from and see you soon and often, { xemain wholly yours forever, C.D.” Sealing the Vow. The vow and its tangible witnesses come next. Allagreements require to be attested ; and this as much more than others as it is the most obligatory. Both need its unequiv- A true woman could give a better answer | than the following, which does not claim to be a model. It is hardly time yet for a ; gushing love-letter, or we woula not profane | this sacred subject by making the attempt; yet should like to receive one in spirit some- what as follows: “DEAR SiR: Your proffer of your hand and heart in marriage has been duly received, and its important contents fully considered. “T accept your offer: and on its only condition, that I reciprocate your Love, | which I do completely; and hereby both offer my own hand and heart in return, and ocal and mutual mementos, to be cherished for all time to come as its perpetual wit- esses. ‘This vow of each to the other can neither be made too strong, nor held toc sacred. If calling God to witness wil! strengthen your mutual adjuration, swear by Him and His throne, or by whatever else will render it inviolable, and commit it to writing, each transcribing a copy for the ‘ ao? : other as your most sacred relics, to be en: shrined in your “holy of holies, ” ‘T'wo witnesses are required, one for each, A ring for her and locket for him, contain. ing the likeness of both, as always showing ay - aati,“ " er 3 =>. oe ee ee ee | _ - we 2 . " a. ee etd Te Se ee ee Se a ae Cee ee aiid Bh de rr ee a 2. be to ee Sa be ee» Senn a ae!Tie seca seen ae RATA RIESGO BA A BOND Bo SIRES Oe, poe ee aan sala a Deseo he a 9 I NE INN REE a Se aki CO bl a acon ag eek reactae OO Pa eS Ph HES PSOSRL NG Selig Ls al adn Sa TT ERS aOR se oa oS RAR 4 & ? of | A fi 113 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. now they now look, or any keepsake both | inutually agree On 2 thousand ike minor may select, more OF less valuable, to be handed down to their posterity, will answer. Getting ready to start out together on | your life journey; should now engross both. Though virtually married, you are still only friends, and should now begin to make Love ; though its full period has not yet quite ar- rived. Giving up to nothing else, like eat- Its gradual | carly stages; 3t matters less how, than ing honey alone, might cloy. incipiency favors its permanent connauance. Excessive growth, bursts. Greed soon cloys. Wholesome Regulations. Your mode of conducting your future affairs should now be arranged. Though | implied in selection, yet jt must be specified ta detail. Both should arrange your mar- | riage relations ; say what each desires to do, and have done; and draw outa definite out- line plan of the various positions you desire | to maintain towards each other. Your whether | Write down and file all. Your present @iture home must be discussed : you will board, ot live in your own house, rented, or owned, ot built, and after what pattern ; OF with either or which of your important that | on, by enabling each to correct both; for wives determine most as to their domiciles ; our own changes make us think others have furniture, | changed. A mutual diary is desirable; for | they are | incidents now seemingly trivial, may yet be | parents. And it is vastly their internal arrangements, rooms, management; respecting which | points, better definitely arranged at first than left for future contention ; eacu making fe quisitions, conceding privileges, and stipulat- ing for any fancies, idols, or “ reserved | e ; rl ht PY = g S. | be adjusted too soon. Differences must needs arise, which cannon Those constitutionally i inberent in each should be adjusted in Love’s aoe am! whether te your mutual satisfaction. Or if , this is impossible, “‘agree to disagree ;” \ but settle on something. A concessionary spirit is indispensable, and inheres in love. Neither should insist, | but both concede, in all things; each mak: | jing, not demanding sacrifices. The one whe 4 Oem | Joves most will yield to oblige most. What | course will make both happiest shonld over | «ule all your mutual relations Important Triffes. | decisions, subject to mutual changes and amendments, will become more and more | important for future reference, as time rolls 5 consulted quite too little, yet cannot well be come important. too much. Family rules, as well as sational, state, corporate, financial, must be established. | See or correspond with each other ofter | Love will not bear neglect. Nothing kills it equally. In this it is most exacting. If {hey are most needed, yet least practiced in | will not, should not, be second in anything, marriage. Without them, all must be chaot- ic. Ignoring them is a great but common marital error. The Friends wisely make family method cardinal. | “First or nothing,” is its motto. Meet as | often as possible. After its fires have once been lit, they must be perpetually resupplied with their natural fuel; else they die dows Your general treatment of cach other now ; go out, or go elsewhere; and are harder to especially require: to be mutually agreed | rekindle than to light at first. upon. Flach should say, “Ishouidlike to} A splendid young man, son of one of New 3 gee 5 S % 5 6 . ° treat and be treated by, you thus, but not so; England’s most talented and pious divines, and let you do this but vot that.” and both | endowed with one of the very best of orgateselected his mate, and plighted their mutual vows, being the business manager of a large manufactory, and obliged to defend several consecutive lawsuits for patent-right in- fringements, neglected for weeks to write to his betrothed, presupposing of course that all was right. This offended her ladyship, and allowed evil-minded meddlers to sow seeds of alienation in her mind; persuade her to send him his dismissal, and accept a matriage proposal from another, A Sad Story. As he told his mournful story, he seemed like a sturdy oak riven by lightning and torn by whirlwinds; its foliage scorched, bark stripped, limbs tattered, even its very rootlets scathed ; yet standing, a stern, proud defiant, resolute wreck. A gushing tear he manfully tried but failed to suppress. His lips quivered and voice faltered. Perceiving his impending fate, he seemed to dread his future more than present; and hesitated be- tween selfabandonment, and a merely me- chanical, objectless, business life. In at- tempting his salvation, by proffering advice to the “broken-hearted,” he respectfully but firmly declined; deliberately preferring old- bachelorship, with all its dearths, of which he seemed fully conscious. He felt as if he had been deeply wronged. Yet was not he the jirs¢t practically to re- pudiate? He suffered terribly, because he had sinned grievously, not by commission, but omission. He felt the deepest, fullest, manliest love, and revelled in anticipations of their future union, but did not express it; which was to her as if he had not felt it; whereas, had he saved but one minute per week to write lovingly, ‘I long to be with you, and love you still,” or, “Business does MAN AND WOMAN, OR SENSIBLE RULES FOR LOVE-MAKING. isms, physical and phrenological, having have saved her broken voy tig ws, and his broker heart. Mingling other exyoyments with love, by going together to picnics and patties, sleigh: rides and mayings, concerts, and lectures. marvellously cements the affections, Love Feeds om Love. Meet in your most attractive habiliments of mind and person. French ladies will see their affianced only when arrayed in theiz' best toilet. Yet mental charms vastly sur- pass millinery. Neither can render youre selves too lovely. Express affectionate fondness in your visits and letters; the more the better, so that you keep it a sentiment, not debase it by animal passion. It is still establishing its rootlets, like young corn, instead of growing. Allow no amatory excitement, no frenzied, delirious intoxication with it; for its violence, like every other, must react only to exhaust and paralyze itself by its own excesses. Afhanced young man, life has its epochs, which revolutionize it for good or bad. You are now in one. You have heretofore affili- ated much with men; formed habits of smoking or chewing tobacco; indulged in late suppers; abused yourself in various ways; perhaps been on sprees. Now is your time to take a new departure from whatever is evil to all that is good and pure. Break up most of your masculine associations; and affiliate chiefly with your affianced. Be out no more nights. Let your new responsibili- ties and relations brace you up against their temptations; and if these are not sufficient, your prospective spouse will help. No othet aid in resisting temptation and inspiring te good equals that of a loving, loved woman, Break off from your crouyisms, clubs, so: cieties, all engagements except such as mean imperative, cold-blooded business. Your new mot, cannot diminish my fondness,” he would ties furnish an excellent excuse. All your ” Ve eee ee ee ee oe aa Ss PN ieee Re ee Ser. de OO ee eee eee eA HOM EAP ENY ARS WIR BaP Me Mra hs Bs amet ie Py) ore: Deekied Yieke edi tte yer ei is SE AES INN ae ae EN ee ak eo de Fr ee cen ngs roasts eT scan aA RRS PHS JEPSEN SN Ll ain Denisa een Te Ss A ee de et ee ae ee RC oe Ne . Yi 4 i £20 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE. AND DOMESTIC LIFE. are time and small change are wanted for ger. "To give to bad habits the time and money due to her and setting up in life, 1s outrageous. Bend everything to your new relations, them to nothing. Now’s your | time to turn over a new leaf, and turn all the angles, corners, and right-about faces needed. Affianced maiden, yoa nave some depart- ares to take and corners to turn. Your iife has till now been frivolous, but has now be- gomse serious. You have ao more need of toilet fineries; for “your market 1s made,” and you have work on hand far more im- portant, namely, fitting yourself for your new duties. Find out what they demand of you, and set right about making a premium wife and mother. Both begin life anew. Forgetting the past, plant and sow a0w what you would gather and become always. Woman is man’s choicest treasure. That is the most precious which confers the most happiness. She is adapted to render him incomparably happier than any other terres trial possession. He cam enjoy iuscious peaches, melting pears, crack horses, dollars, and other things innumerable; but a well» sexed man can enjoy woman most of all. He is poor indeed, and takes little pleasuze in this life, be his possessions and social position what they may, who takes no pleasure with her. All description utterly fails to express the varied and exultant en foyments God has engratte jnto a right sexual state. Only few experiences can attest how many and great, from ‘nfancy {co feoth, and throughout eternity ttself AD Cod could do He has done te rendet Sach | sex superlatively happy in the other. Ofali | his beautiful and perfect works, is is the most beautiful and perfect. Of all his be. | nignant devices, this is his most benign. All the divine attributes, all human happiness, converge in male and female adaptations te mutual enjoyments. Each is correspondingly precious to the other, Man should prize many things, yet woman is his peari of greatest price. He should preserve, cherish, husband many life possessions, but woman the most. He has many jewels in his crown of glory, but she is his gem-iewel, his diadem. What mascus line luxury equals making women im gener. al, and the loved one in particular, happy? Beginning and conducting courtship as this chapter directs, avoiding the errors and following the directions it specifies, will just as surely render all superlatively happy as sun will rise to-morrow. Scan their sense. De they not expound nature’s love-initiat: ing and consummating ordinances? Aré they not worthy of being put into practice? Discordants, can you not trace many of your antagonisms and miseries to their ignorant violation? Parents, what are they worth te jut into your children’s hands, to forewarn them against carelessly, ignorantly, spotling cher matneage? Young ladies, what are they worth to you, as snowing you how te 'so treat your admirers as to gain and re Couble their heart’s devotion? Young met, what ate these warnings and teachings worth tc you? God in his natural jaws will blest | all who practice, curse all who violate they ! | }CHAPTER ik Who are, and are not, Adapted to Each Other. FAMILY is a great affair. As a A commodity, a production, a life- work, an achievement, it has no peers, Its power over man is supreme. meat 1s, so is all ‘ speculation, Mera <2 else titan, Aci a venture,” if well con- ducted, it is the most oe enterprise, » oe perce ‘ dividends,” and is every way more “profitable” than any other, “line of business” in which mortals can “invest.”? Those who possess the capital should procure a “round-trip” ticket for this matrimonial excursion. It will take you around and through the world in better style, and show you finer ‘prospects’? than any other. Of all the achievements man can accom- plish, all the works he can do, and missions fulfil, this stands first. He who has founded a family among men has done vastly more than he who has founded a useful manufac- tory, or established a “‘ commercial house, ’ or amassed great wealth. ‘To own broad acres, deeds, corner lots, bonds, is something ; but you childless millionaires are ‘poor critters,’ in comparison with those who own a er family. Zaz is incomparably the Welty fitiest piece of “property”? within human reach. He who “owns” a good wife, she who “‘ possesses’? a good husband, and that married pair who have a “clear title”? to smart and rosy little ones, with a domicile and necessaries ‘‘ thrown in, ’? may justly be prouder, carry their heads higher, and “‘feel their oats’? more than any other occupants of this whole earth, childless kings not excepted. To establish a family, time, to originate human interests, and help to create ne history, exceeds wearing © childless crowns family iuedon ? What governor-general is as absolute as its sovereign head? or what obedience as willing or complete, because accorded by love? Gardens filled with roses are beautiful, and rich fruit luscious, yet paradise ‘‘ was not arrayed like one of these” families. How should it be “‘ gotten-up,” and man- aged? One poorly conducted is a poor affair. Wisdom in nothing is as much needed or as all-important asin starting and regulating a family “enterprise.” God ordained the family, and therefore its natural laws, thereby a family science, as much as a mathematical, or any other; for which, exultant thanks toits Author. Obey- ing these laws renders a happy family just as sure as to-morrow’s sun; because both are equally induced by inflexible causation. The only possible cause of domestic unhap- piness is the breach of these laws. ‘Those who follow them need have no more fear of doniestic unhappiness than that the sun will turn backwards. Learning how is the first step. Novices should be careful how they undertake it, just as children should not play carelessly with sharp tools ; and allshould learn how to use this ‘‘instrument”’ of extreme weal or woe before they deg7z to tamper with it ; which is often quite young Where can men learn how a family should be founded and conducted? Strange that which shall float along down the stream of whilst every other department of science hag 12r What realm equals the‘ ° a ee “eee ee) ee - RC ee Bo eal ae depen: ene +e ee oe eT ean Ae Bea eat a |’ re Oe peace a. CHOLES Lee ens site copra fhe VPRO Av Hee ys a Yaak aah RL AAD al) La Rd fe and me EEE ATE OT Te See ee hag aa ree ta Oe Pa RT Hea IPSC Se a alee ra ae eA SE Mi GedeanGr Parisi saat oe ate eee een ie oe ok Ra os ete ee SSeefies 322 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. been explored, family science remains still | enshrouded in Egyptian darkness. Scholars, where have you been groping, that you have not discovered this field of human research ? Writers, where have been your pens? Cler- gymen, where are your eyes and tongues that you thus ignore it? CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW, Strong, compact body ; large perceptive faculties and language; fine socia qualities, oratorical gifts and business capacities. Self-preparation is first, just as preparing the ground is the first step towards obtaining acrop; and the next, selection of a right sexual mate; and this chapter has for its object to show how to take this step, ust right. Periodicity is a universal institute of Na- ture. It controls every function of the uni- verse ;and governs all the motions ofall the eavenly bodies, with all the functions of all | that lives. Sun, moon, stars, seasons, days, and nights come and go at their appointed periods. ‘There is a natural “¢zme for every- thing under the sun.” All plants, animals, and human beings have their infancy, adoles- cence, maturity, decline, and death. These ew sate periods are inherent, and inwrought through: jut all their respective functions. There is a time tosow and reap, be born, grow, decay, and die. And what is planted or done in its natural season prospers far better than out. The True Time to Choose and Wed. Love has its natural period, and prospers better when it is observed. And it has but one right time, which is exactly right, be cause appointed by Nature. She is perfect, so areall her works; her love-works inclu- ded, ‘To a complete love, this observance ai her natural times and seasons is indispensa- ble. ‘True, though one may make an excel- lent crop of cotton or corn, even if planted out of time, yet how much better that same crop if planted when Nature ordains? Then, when is Nature’s best time for planting the seeds of love? “Vou should marry at once. You'll need a family at forty.” “Fifty will be in season, I propose to marry then.” “That will be like planting corn in At: gust. You had better give it more time to grow.” The sexual function matures later than the digestive or muscular; because its earliest development would be useless, yet retard 3oys and girls like each othet some, but how much stronger is appetite than growth, love, and love years after than at puberty? ‘he sexuality slumbers on till quickened by puberty, which re-increases it till eighteen or twenty, when the body is well grown and consolidated; bones become dense, and their geristly joints hardened up; muscles full- sized and tort; and mental faculties fully es tablished. Tove now begins to assert sovs ereign control. No puppy love, no “juve. nile and tender” fancy, but a deep, strong, all-controlling and mature affection inspires and electrifies the whole being, and furnishesaud inhabits the human structure, taking that helm which governs every part. ld Boys and Girls. Precocity is an American misfortune. Wrong physical habits, tea, coffee, condi- ments, tobacco, want of exercise, our hot- house school system, alcoholic stimulants, ete., make mere boys and girls petit men and women, and prematurely light and fan the fires of sexual excitement. Our boys must become young gentlemen almost as soon as they cease to be babies; must hurry into and through college; smoke, chew, drink, swear, carouse, before puberty; have a love affair, and practice all the vices while yet mere boys; make and lose a fortune during their teens; and know more evil at thirteen than their fathers did at thirty ; and therefore blight before twenty. This renders their love-appetite violent yet dainty, so that straws turn it. Soon after it begins to taste the sweets of love it fancies its lover neg- lectful, or partial to another, which a hearty | love would never have noticed. Previous starvation also often induces both sudden and premature love. If boys were duly loved and fondled by mother and aunt, aud girls similarly by father and uncles, and if this faculty were duly cultivated in lads, lasses, and young folks, this, its partial exer- cise, would sc far satisfy it in the bud as to hold back love proper 2 year or two longer, and mitigate its violence; whereas its juve- nile suppression renders it so ravenous that it greedily devours whatever food is offered. ‘Elders, consider this point, and compare it with your experience. By all means let girls be girls till Nature ‘makes them women. Girlhood is quite as essentially antecedent to womanhood as is the growth of fruits to their ripening. A gitl’s weak, becauce immature, love is easily WHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, ADAPTED TO EACH OTHER. 123, reversed, which a riper would surmount. | 3 Those very elements of discord which dis: gust her at sixteen, might be tolerated, per haps enjoyed, by the ripened instincts of twenty. Sheis less in danger of contract: ing ailments by a marriage at twenty thax before eighteen; besides being much less shy, modest, and bashful. A right selection AMELIA RIVES CHANLER Nervous, intellectual temperament 3 brilliant mind, predominating over body ; lacking in physical breadth and robustness. requires a fully matured love intuition and judgment. A thoughtless fancy is one great cause of ill-assorted marriages. Many dis appointed in marriage might say: “TI might have kuown better if I had thought. What now is so obnoxious was plain then, oiny that I did not stop to con» sider.” Love Fancies and Whims. Intellect should govern every life move- ment, and especially marriage. ‘This step is too eventful to be taken by giddy youth. Females just begir t. come to their senses at sixteen, and miles about eighteen, some sooner, according as they ripen earlier of later, yet it then reqrres 9 year or two it ~~ ee ee ee Te eee er aa leeeeeeeeeeenel ceili Ce ae aa ee aia el ae el_§ 4 | S a a + fo ee a PS e a a ad | z es Pa $ & =f 2 / a FS eee jel ect om vs a Se Dt Mise eke FE at 2 GR EN PD LOL aaa eee ae at PT SE cde eke ong chagrin a : i oe 2 a but the more mature it 1s the soonet they should marry. Up to twenty-two, those who propose mar: riage should be about the same age; yet a difference of fifteen years, after the youngest is twenty-five, need not prevent a marriage, when everything else is favorable. But a man of forty-five may marry a woman of twenty-six or upwards much more safely than one of thirty a girl below twenty ; fo1 her matural coyness requires more delicate treatmaent than his abruptness is likely to pestow. He is apt toerr fundamentally by } } 4 precipitancy, presupposing that her mental sexuality is as mature as his own. Though a man upwards of forty must not marry one below twenty-two, yet a man of fifty may venture to marry 4 woman of twenty-five, if he is hale and descended from a long-lived ancestry. Still no girl under twenty should ever me*ry any man over twenty-six. Differences of Age. The love of an elderly man for a giri ig more parental than conjugal; while hers foz him is like that of a-daughter for a father, rather than wife for husband. He loves her asa pet, and therefore his inferior, instead of asa woman; and is compelled to look down upon her as inexperienced, below him in judgment, too often impulsive and un wise; which obliges him to make too many allowances to be compatible with a genuine union, Andshe is compelled tolook upto him more as one to be reverenced, perhaps feared, and as more good and wise than companion- able. ‘Their ideas and feelings must neces: sarily be dissimilar. He may indeed pet, flatter, and indulge her as he would a grow daughter, and appreciate her artless inno cence and girlish light-heartedness; yet all this is not genuine masculine and feminine love; nor can she exert over him the infla- | ence every man requires from his wife. sneer eA NE EPIC FF Besides a gray-headed husband’s gallanting a girlish wife is incongruous. Her assum- ing that juvenile gayety so natural to youth, while he is as dignified and high toned ag becomes all elderly gentlemen, is a little like uniting Fall with Spring. All girls should laugh, play, be juvenile, and mingle in young society, and an elderly husband might not want to go to as many parties as his girl-wife. Of course she must stifle her love of company, or else be escorteé by a younger, perhaps therefore more sym pathizing beau, who must play the agreeahle,whisper pleasant things, perhaps ex- pressions of love, in her willing ear, while she prefers the young beau, and is quite liable to love her husband rather as a father, yet another as a lover. At least those elderly men who marry girls must keep only half an eye half open, and see little even with that. Not that their young consorts are faithless, but that they are exposed to temptation. A young woman deficient in amativeness naturally gravitates towards elderly men; because their greater age has put theirs on about the same plane with hers. Such girls, therefore, greatly prefer men from twenty to thirty years their seniors. In such cases her preferences may be safely trusted. Seventeen and Forty-two. Buta youngish woman had far better marry an elderly man, who is otherwise acceptable, than not to marry at all. If she is satisfied, he should not object. Still, she must look one of these alternatives fairly in the face —either to impart to him of her own life stamina to sustain him longer than he could otherwise live, while she dies sooner ; or see him die before her, only to break her heart in case a genuine love exists, or else be obliged to transfer it to another; from either of which she may well pray to be delivered. There are cases, however, in which girls imiay matry seniors. One of seventeen fell desperately in love with her teacher of forty- two. Repelled by her cold, stern father, and denied the society of young men, her innate love being strong, it must of course perish or else find some object. Her teacher, an excellent man, without one thought of hereby eliciting her love, nor would he if her father had been affectionate to her, kindly aided her in her studies, especially arithme- tic, which masculine kindness, to which she was unused, called forth her love for him, on WHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, ADAPTED TO EACH OTHER. 127 whom it fastened with perfect desperation. To all such the advice should be: “’I‘he main objection to your marriage lies on her side. But to break her heart by preventing it, will do her far more injury than marrying her senior; therefore marry.” But these are isolated cases. Better older men marry young women, than young men elderly women; because paternity continues later in life than mater- nity. Circumstances may justify the mar- riage of a young man to an elderly woman. A wild, injudicious, imprudent youth of twenty-two, who needed the influence of a mother united with that of a wife, married and lived happily with a widow of thirty. six, and found in her maternal with conju gal affections. An elderly woman, posses sing superior natural excellences, may com: pensate for her age by her superiority ; but for a young man to marry an elderly woman’s wealth, and long for her death that he may enjoy her moncv, “caps the climax” of “total depravity.” Still, an artful woman, who knows just how to play on the amatory feelings of a young man, may so ingratiate herself into his affections that, as with the girl just mentioned, their mav-iage is best for him. The determining question is, can « sight love be established between them ? Your Choice will Make or Unmake You. All must choose, while passing through life, in many and important cases, between right ways and wrong; paths leading to hap- piness and misery, honor and shame, virtue and vice, and their consequences; yet of ali the decisions man can ever make, that re- specting conjugal companionship is the most important, because the most eventful for prosperity and adveisity, weal and woe, vir- tue and vice, in this world and the next. By all the power of a right and a wrong state of ToC Ce eee ee ad a a pe bt ie nA Re Ee ee ee Oe es a ’ Pe cette oe Se eee el cil ee . od _— ee: he “ 7 pg a * J PN ar ear ee Oe ee eal ts healt Sees oh Lota COE ed le aman orval od ae Me ET ae 2 Pah SAN Ph) Sd bar Sa a as a ah LEE AS fel bad ee ee ee ee ere PA CRA ee eee ae eke ae ee 128 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. fove, by the very heart’s core of life itself, and all its interests, is it important that we select just its very dest possible object as re- gards general character, and special adapta- tion to ourselves. We should select acquain- tances wisely, since their aggregate influence HENRY W. GRADY- Motive, mental temperament; youthful disposition, Soined with emotional nature; well-known “ Southern orator.” is great; business pactners more so; and intimate heart-friends still more, because all affect our entire future; yet the effects of all combined are utterly insignificant when compared with those of our conjugal partner. Nature’s externals always correspond with her internals. Genuine beauty signifies ex- cellence in fruits, animals, and woman, and of course companionship, including a fine- grained organism, as well as moral and intel- lectual excellence. Yet prettiness and “ fancy touches,” often mistaken for beauty, are “ only skin deep,” and of little practical ac- eount Such usually make plainer women than plain girls do. The practical question is, how will she look after she has been a mother, and perhaps become thin and pale? ~ = Marriage is for life, while mere prettines, soon fades. But homely women, though ever so good, kind, loving, industrious, and much more, have some imperfection, or lack some female attributes; while those who have any objec- tionable feature will generally have some objectionable trait. Still beauties, again, will do for flirtation with fops. The Stylish Woman. Style is desirable, if well sustained, anu does not degenerate into ostentation. Does she appear well in company? Can you in- troduce her proudly to your old comrades as your beau-ideal? A pleasing, “taking,” attractive address which combines grace with elegance, and charms while it sways, is a great recommendation. Not that we at- tempt to analyze good manners, but only call attention to them as very expressive of character; yet affected artificiality, a con- strained aping of gentility, indicates a make- believe outside appearance, and want of gentineness; while a natural, unaffected sim- plicity in walk, speech, and manners betokens a truthfulness to nature every way desirable. Dandyism, foppery, broadcloth, ladies, must not be allowed to outweigh true manliness of manner, though perhaps eclipsed by bashful- nese or awkwardness. Has he the radzments of a good address? Not, is he, but can he become, polished? Often internal coarseness assumes a sugar-coated, genteel impudence which provokes laughter, and passes off for the moment, yet discloses long ears. Look below the surface. Women generally over- rate forward, but greatly underrate diffident young men. Undue forwardness discioses a familiarity which springs, if not from con- tempt of the sex, at least a want of due respect for it; while awkwardness often originates in that exalted worship of it which is indispensable in a husbandThe expression of talents and worth stands second only to their possession. Conversa- tional, speaking, and writing talent can hardly be overrated, yet is almost wholly overlooked. Its manifestation, in whichever form, justly challenges the admiration of the world, past and present, savage and civilized, jearned and illiterate; yet wherein does con- versational eloquence differ from forensic, except in the number of its listeners? Is it not as admirable in the cottage as on the sostrum? Hence, what are his talents for expressing himself? what of her conversa- tional powers? are paramount questions, and the answers most significant. Artificial Ninnies. If a plain girl’s ideas flow readiry, and she clothes them in appropriate and beautiful language, this gift recommends her more than all the boarding-school artificialities and millinery she can exhibit. Does she wari up with her subject, and impart to it a glow, an interest, which delights and in- spires? Does she choose words which ex- press her precise meaning, and begin her sentences at the right end; or does she bungle both? Is she grammatical; or does she murder the “King’s English?” Not, “Can she speak French,” but can she ¢alk elegantly? It matters little whether she has studied grammar, for natural conversational talent will evince itself irrespective of edu- cational aids, which ‘of course help. Does she spoil a good story by telling it badly, or so tell every one as to make its point of ap- glicetion emphatic? Is she suggestive? Does voc make you think and /ze/as she converses? Many object to long female tongues, as given to scandal; whereas, whether one talks well or ill has absolutely nothing to do with backbiting. Scandal 1s consequent on a malevolent spirit, not on a “long tongue.” One may say a little, but misrepresent that; 9 WHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, ADAPTED £0 EACH OTHER. 129 or talk much, yet give a true version Neglect those girls who, looking through inverted glasses, always represent. things as worse than they really are; but patronize pleased and hopeful ones who paint what ever they attempt to say or do in beautifu, handsome colors, and regard things favore ably. Sound Morals in Married Life. A high moral tone, along with uncom. promising integrity, is pre-eminently de. manded in the conjugal relations. Nothing whatever averts love as soon as this defici- ency. Love must have unlimited confidence, or perish. Moral principle naturally elicits affection, while trickery and all wrong: doings are fatal to it. Worst of all, this deficit transmits itself te those dear children on whom you are to dote. To see them grow up comparatively regard- less of the right, unrestrained from wrong: doing by a high sense of duty, and irrespon- sive to conscientious appeals, is indeed most agonizing; and by all means to be prevented by marrying only those endowed with large conscience. A naturally good temper, or a pleas- ant spirit versus a cross-grained, petulant, can hardly be overrated. It makes a world of diiference whether a covjugal companion construes everything in the worst light or in the best; takes things adversely and frets over them, or smooths and makes the best of them: is always in a fluster and bustle, or quiet and even-tempeved ; uniformly patient, or perpetually scolding ; repelling, or attract- ing; irritating, or calming; rough, or gentle; spiteful, or soft; continually creating dis- turbances, or making peace; resentful, or forgiving; overbearing, or forbearing; wait- ing on, or requiring to be waited on; claim- ing the best for self, or giving it to others; sernding off this brother with a box on the a eee ee ee ee a ‘ ae a eS eee ee Speier ee GIO Cee ee Site SP Pe eei er ee aes dwar a leon any a ee eae rear) I RR a i NPD ab) as Face WEIN Aaa a a aks LEE oc lOO Be ce he cela rect nt PRO 1 ASL a Ll ai lio MAS aS ala LE ae a8 a al ae .& F &30 ear, and that with a spiteful push, © Then do | as I bid you,” or asking “hem pleasantly for favors. Let scolds a:one. Marrying Relations. Consaaguineous marriages deteriorate their issue. ‘This observation is almost universal, through all ages and nations. Christianity, almost from its origin, has interdicted incest. A question thus practically important de- serves a scientific solution. The marriage of first cousins among the isolated valleys of Switzerland, one genera- tion after another, is of frequent occurrence, and in these cantons dwarfness, cretinisin, idiocy, are disgustingly prevalent. In France, such marriages average two per cent., but the issue of dwarf mutes by such matriages, averages twenty-eight per cent. ; and occurs the oftener the nearer the parental relationship. Dr. S. G. Howe's report to the Massachu- setts Legislature says: ‘One twentieth of the idiots were children of cousins, while their marriage is in no such proportion, and all other defects are in like proportion. Seven- teen such marriages produced ninety-five children, of which forty-four are idiots, and twelve more puny, or nearly two-thirds in all.” Dr. J. G. Spurzheim says: “ Scarcely one among the royal families of Europe, who have matried in and in for generations, can write a page of consecutive sound sense on any scientific, or literary, or moral subject.” Says Dr. Caldwell: ‘‘ Que cause of human deterioration is family marriages. It has almost extinguished most of the royal fami- lies of Europe, though at first they were the notables of the land for physical strength, and force of mind and character.” An eminent English physician, Dr. Bux- ton,says: ‘From ten to twelve per cent. of our deaf mutes are children of cousins In COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 170 consanguineous marriages were 265 deaf or dumb children, and seven in one family.” Moses condemns blood marriages even though he thereby practically censures his national patriarchs; doubtless because of their palpably deteriorating effects. The Koran, the Scriptures of the Moham- medans, says: ‘‘Yeare forbidden to marry your mothers, and your daughters, and your sisters, and your aunts, and your cousins, and your foster-sisters, and yout wives’ mothers.” About ten per cent. of the idiocy in Scot land is caused by consanguineous marriages. Permissible Cases. Some authors maintain that such marriages do not degenerate offspring, and cite “ breed- ing in and in” in proof. Occasionally the children of cousins do indeed manifest supe- rior vigor and talents. How can these seem- ingly contradictory facts be explained ? Thus: resemblance to the related parentage deteriorates offspring; while two cousins who do not resemble each other, that is, whe inherit mainly from those ancestors through which they are of related, may marry with comparative assurance that. their offspring will be normal. A strong love between two cousins is good evidence that they are adapted to each other in parentage. Yet there are plenty of others quite as lovable as cousins, and the mere risk of impairing offspring is fearful. Some one staminate constituent—that which is to all what foundation is to super- structure, spinal column to physical frame, oxygen to air, head to body, and sun to solar system, must govern marriage, as it does everything else. What is it? Sexuality, normal and abuudant, alone creates whatever is manly and womanly; attracts and is attracted, loves and awakens love. inspirits and is inspirited, fuses and ifWHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, fused, moulds and is moulded, and both con- ‘ers life and predetermines its amount. All other conjugal prerequisites siuk into insig- nificance when compared with this, because it is the summary and embodiment of all; that which is to all what lime is to mortar, or tendon to muscle. The answer to the questions, ‘ How much mental and physical manhood has this beauas compared with that? how much of a female is this woman as compared with that?” should mainly deter- mine the choice. ‘ Which is the most imag- netic, and capable of the deepest, completest devotion, will inspire the most love in me, and call out my manly affections and attri- butes?”’ is a man’s great practical Inquiry ; while a woman’s should be, ‘Which is truest to masculine nature, and will bestow the most on me?” not which is the most polite or spruce? Manly Men and Womanly Women. These are plain questions, but they go to the very core and root of this whole matter. Gender is the base and measure of both companionship and parentage. Those who have this, have “the one thing needful” in marriage; those who lack this, lack all. By its means, all other differences can readily be adjusted, though unadjustable without it. Those in whom this staminate condition is “all right,” however dissimilar in other tespects, can live happily together though full of faults; yet those who lack this are unmarriageable, though possessed of every other excellence. Its mere amount is by no means all, for its normal state is also important. Better its abundance, though perverted, than defi- tiency, though normal; because it is far more easily sacrificed than reincreased; yet how infinitely better that it be both hearty ADAPTED TO EACH OTHER. 131 important that each knows how to correct its wrong action in the other, and just how to manage the other by its means, day this art of arts will be studied, Similar general matrimonial prerequisites might be extended indefinitely ; yet letting these put inguirers on the right track as to Soime a aor = 2 ) LS) PY S is f SI . & be A ¢ F “£ <7 Mee eke AP NAS Vin tae ae oe RENE aa Se GR att sd el SO bal BS AOD ARO AS iE . i = 2B rs ; . i . a ¥ so 4 a P F Be af F 9 é -§ | . 142 women; and his child by his dwarf wife weighed only two pounds at birth, lingered, and died. «“ Little folks” must not marry little, unless they are willing to have still smaller children ; but must marry good-sized, and their chil- dren will be medium. I, so very excitable that my surplus exci- tability becomes a source of pain to me, marty a woman equally excitable. Ofcourse her excitability perpetually provokes mine, which thus makes me miserable with her, which makes me dislike her; while mine redoubles hers, which makes her miserable with me, which makes her dislike me; while our children, if we had any, besides being so extremely fiery-tempered that there is no doing anything with them, would also be so irritable physically that the first breath of disease would blow them into a premature grave in a day. © They would die almost before we knew they were sick; whereas, per contra, if I marry a calm, patient woman, whose quiet, gentle, forbearing tones and spirit soothe my excitability, this would make me happy in her, and therefore love her; while my surplus excitability would tone up her passivity, which would make her happy in me, and therefore love me; and both contribute greatly to our having children, render them midway between both, well-balanced, and both likely to live, and harmonious and excellent; besides their soothing me, and exhilarating her. ‘Two very excitable persons rarely produce chil- dren; that very fire which would render their issue poor, cutting off their power to have any. Tom Thumb and Commodore Nutt furnish like applications of this prevention as to size. This illustration expounds a Zaw applicable to all the extremes of all, which should COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. it at’ your own, mate’s and children’s perii. How beautiful nature’s plan for preventing poor children, and obviating the faults, and promoting the excellences, of all future gen- erations. Mark our next point as bearing on this. Should Those Tainted with Disease Marry. and Whom? Shall those tainted with any diseases or deformities, physical or mental, or those hereditarily predisposed to theft, lust, or any other vices, be allowed, or allow themselves to marry? Rev. Dr. Bartoll, an excellent authority, says: “If we would have no monsters about us, let not idiots or insane pair, or scrofulous or consumptives, those soaked in alcohol o1 conceived in lust, entering the world dis- eased in body or mind, or overweighed wit any propensity or passion, be allowed to raarry, any more than we would have a mur- sery for wolves and bears, or cultivate poi- sonous ivy, deadly night-shade, or apple-fern in the inclosures of our houses, our yards and fields. Society, by righteous custom, if not by statute law, has a right to prevent, to forbid the multiplication of monstrous specimens of humanity. That mewling, puking, drooling, wailing baby ought not te exist; it is no blessing, but a curse of nature and God on the misdoing cf men and wo men.” George Combe takes like, though not equally extreme ground; and himself post- poned marriage and married a wife aftei both were too old to become parents, Thousands entertain like views, and abstain from marriage lest they entail diseases or deformities on issue. Some go even further, and argue that only the best should be al- lowed to procreate, as in animals. This question is too personally important to toe govern all marital selections. You violate | many not to be adjudicated on first principlesMost who can, may multiply; because progeny is as natural a birthright as eating. All our faculties were created only to act. As a right to exercise lungs, stomach, mus- cles, eyes, etc., accompanies their bestowal; so aright to exercise every mental faculty inheres in their birthright possession. Shall human authority forbid what divine more than permits—imperiously commands, and even necessitates ? How can society prevent? ‘Those inter- dicted would rebel, and seek clandestinely that intercourse forbidden them by law, and leave illegitimate issue if denied legitimate. Shall the law marry only those men and women sexually and morally vigorous? and emasctilate all inferior boy babies? How would it be possible to draw the lines impar- tially as to who should and who should not suffer the surrender of these marital rights? Or what their rules of allowing and inter- dicting? ‘The difficulties in the way of such a course are insurmountable. Nature Does Her Work Vrell. God adjudicates this identical matter by His natural law, in rendering childless all who cannot have children much better than none. Harlots rarely become mothers, be- cause their depravities would make their issue worthless. All infants endowed with strength enough to be born, can, by proper regimen, attain a full human life, and die of old age. Nature will not begin what she cannot consummate, provided she is allowed her own facilities, and generally interdicts parentage to those either too young, too old, too debilitated, or diseased anywhere, or de- formed, or depraved, to impart sufficient of all the human functions to enable their chil- dren, by a right hygiene, to live to a good age, and well worthy to inhabit her “ prem- ises.” By this simple arrangement she fore- WHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, ADAPTED TO EACH OTHER. 143 matked imperfections which would other: wise impair, if not spoil, universal humanity. " Passably good, or none; nothing, rathez than bad,” are her mottoes. When God thus speaks, let man silently acquiesce; nor human law interdict what natural law both licenses and enjoins. Marrying opposites, the point we are urg- ing, will generally give good children, if any, or at least the luxury of marriage. Two extremely excitable persons are not likely to become parents together, especially if both are extra amorous; whereas, both could be fruitful with a calm, cool partner. Two predisposed to consumption might be barren, or have consumptive children; yet, by marrying robust partners, parent good children. Weakness Should Marry Strergth. By a right application of this law, those predisposed to insanity may become the pa- rents of perfectly healthy children. Indeed, talanted men are often descended from a family so extremely susceptible on one side as to be almost crack-brained, but on the other endowed with extreme physical hardi- hood; their children inheriting their men- tality from the highly organized side, along with the pnysiology of the hardy; whereas, if both parents had been thus gifted, their offspring would not have possessed sufficient animal power to manifest tieir commanding talents, but have died on the threshold of distinction; so that even insane proclivities need not be an absolute battixr to marriage with a stoical or phlegmatic persona. Those of consumptive tendency may mar- ry, but only opposites. If such a man mar- ries a woman having extra good lungs, she will both supply him with needed vitality, and also transmit good lungs to their mutual children, who will inherit from him that stalls all those diseases, deformities, and aan mentality which accompanies consumptive ee Nd Sn NO eee — aeo OTE ATARI AR Ip iN Boho at Ten ave Petia? gene enc ene a Se TE hah PL PIN PD ed) Oa kal kts sak ay Se eee at ah ee te en PUL aA TR Ps SRILA ae OL a es nh aI ere LA oo eos re OE F Yee Pies THUMM Seat IS Set SA Sla RL AO Na oe Ea : id4g TLOURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. stoclivities, superadded to her abundant vitality, and may entirely escape all con- sumptive proclivities, as though born of parents having no consumptive taint. By a judicious application of this law, all other hereditary tendencies may be obviated, and even replaced with excellent characteristics. JAMES RANDOLPH Slim neck ; long face; sharp features ; type of “‘ old- fashioned consumptive; ’’ unfortunate organization. All required is, that when either is weakly er unsound in any particular respect, the other should be sound and vigorous in this same respect. Like weaknesses in the other party must by all means be scrupulously avoided. Or even cne parent may be pre- disposed to one disease, and the other to another, yet their children escape both, pro- vided the predisposition in each is offset by opposite physical qualities in the other ; though when not thus offset, they are in great danger of inheriting the diseases of both. But when both parents are predis- posed to consumption, their children are still more so. eer A spare, thin-chested, consumptive neigis bor, who married into a consumptive family, buried his wife of consumption after she had borne seven children, an‘ has buried his last child but one of this disease, two lovely daughters on the eve of marriage, and ex pects every spring to bury this remaining one, thus inflicting untold agony on himself and his entire family ; whereas, if he had selected a well-vitalized wife, all his children would have been born robust, and lived te bless themselves, him,and mankind. Mean- while, he piously regards this penalty of @ broken natural law as a ‘‘dispensation ot divine Providence.” What pious blas- phemy! What a libel on the Divine government ! To illustrate through the eye: James Randolph, a brilliant writer, died of con- sumption; and his subjoined likeness furn- ishes a good illustration of those hered- itarily tainted with this disease; namely, spare, slim, thin-faced and lipped, loug-faced, sharp-featured, and sunken below the eyes. Now, let him marry one having a robust form. Yet he must not dare marry Miss Slinn, though much the smarter woman, Of course all should be the more thankfal the better constituted they are; yet those least endowed should exult in possessing ever the poorest constitutions, rather than none, and make the best of what they have. What Parents Transmit, Nature never transmits disease, but only weakly organs. ‘Thus the children of parents, however consumptive, are seldom born with diseased lungs, but only with them small, or susceptible; so that if they generate disease by violating the health laws, it settles on these weak organs, and superinduces disease. The real cause of their death is not heredi- tary proclivities, but infractions of the health law's, without which this hereditary tendencyWHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, would have remained dormant. Nature will not transmit any actual disease, local or general, but only weakness or susceptibility. And then she counterbalances even these, by always obliging strong organs to succor weak ones ; and likewise by causing the weakest to grow the fastest; on the principle that over-eating induces sleep, by withdrawing energy from the brain, nerves, and muscles to aid the over-taxed stomach. And linger- , ng diseases consume all the strong and | sound organs before death ensues. Weakly organs, when the healtl-laws are fulfilled, grow stronger with age; thus both repelling disease, and completing a good, fair human life. How often do feeble children, by virtue of this law of growth, become stronger as they grow older, and make healthy adults? What Deformities are, and are not, Ovbjectionable, This principle applies to all other diseased proclivities, yet is too obvious to need am- plification in a physical direction. ‘T’here- fore few need abstain from marriage lest they taint their issue; yet those thus tainted absolutely mst marry opposites; and then cultivate both their own and children’s weak organs. ‘These two simple conditions, car- ried out, would rid the world, in the very next generation, of all forms and degrees of hereditary diseases. How beautiful is this natural provision, and how infinitely impor tant, yet almost wholly overlooked! Of looks we say nothing, because each can judge for him and herself how far their tastes are offended by this deformity and that. Their impairment of issue alone concerns our subject Of this there is little danger. The children cf those whose teeth have been extracted have just as good teeth as ethers; and thus of amputated limbs, lost eyes, etc. Maimed soldiers will have just as good children as if they had not been ADAPTED TO EACH OTHER. 145 maimed, ‘The children of humpbacks, male and female, will be just as straight-backed as if their parents were straight. The children of a woman with one leg shortened by a sprain, or a white swelling, are no more likely to be similarly deformed’ than if both her limbs were alike. \\ / My ' iq Z Hh IN aM Mk —Z SS aI IF LS ANIMAL ORGANISM, Low intellect ; sensual features; bad temper ; typed human brute. Birth-marks, such as facial and othe: blotches, club-feet, etc., rarely descend. Any git] is just as marriageable with them as without. Yet such poor girls are usually “let alone” by men, for chey love physica} periection in women; who love those men deformed about as well as if chey were per- fect. ‘These birth-marks are objectionable which penetrate the 27az, and injure the organism Those whose mother’s fright sapped theit brain and blunted their senses will parent flats, if any. But a sexually healthy hump- back girl will bear better children than a straight one sexually impaired. Temperaments, Forms, Noses, ete. Since few have well-balanced heads or becies, most require to marry their opposites im One or more respects. Almost all have £O too much brain for body, or body for brain ; _ x . eat ad ee ee ee SE " . -~ GhEOsare ~ ee oS Jo eS a ee x e ee ae Pa Pere Pre - a ~~ ee he ~~ m PWM tenon = —~h Pn ee ee ial osRae Se ait deel et rule a Ace One Cheah a — Lala aleeatah val Yuiad Fea se APD ila) ed ols ak le ads Fe eee ae nn ee URS z Phe PRE Eat " 5 aChats tnigntent ean riihin ive nando eePeR AONE END SPEND ASAIN MENS AAS AAD EON SW HEELS POE ANTE oe ke NES OE 3 2 ee ee f § } e F = & a bi —— 146 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. yr else too much or too little respiration, of digestion, or circulation, or muscle, for their other physical functions. Those who are medium in complexion, stature, etc., who are neither extra dark nor light, large nor small, tall nor short, lean nor fat, etc., may marry those who are medium, pr nearly like themselves in these respects, or in either extreme, or a little more or less so than themselves. ‘Thus, those whose hair is neither dark nor light, but about midway between both, may marry those who are a shade darker or lighter than themselves, or a good deal darker or lighter, or even jet black or bright red, as they may fancy, Or as other circumstances may favor most, the complexion being not especially material ; yet the darker one is, the lighter his or her companion should be. Certain Opposites Should Combine. Bright red hair should marry jet black, and fet black auburn, or bright red. And the more red-faced and bearded or impulsive a man, the more dark, calm, cool and quiet should his wife be; and wzce versa. Tse florid should not marry the florid, but those who are dark in proportion as they them- selves are light. Red-whiskered men should marry bru- nettes but not blondes; the color of the whiskers being more determinate of the tem- perament than that of the hair. The color of the eyes is still more impor- tant. Gray eyes must marry some other color, almost any other, except gray ; and so of blue, dark, hazel, ete. Those very fleshy should not marry those equally so, but those too spare and slim; and {his is doubly true of females. A spare man is much better adapted to a fleshy womian than a round-favored man. Two who are short, thick-set, and stocky, should not unite iv matriage, but should choose those differ- ently constituted; but on no account one os their own make. And, in general, those predisposed to corpulence are therefore less inclined to marriage. Those with little hair or beard should marry those whose hair is naturally abun- dant; still, those who once had plenty, bu! who have lost it, may marry those who ar either bald or have but little; for in this, as' in all other cases, all depends on what one is by Nature, little on present states. "hose whose motive-temperament decidedly predominates, who are bony, only moderately fleshy, quite prominent-featured, Roman nosed, and musctlar, should not marry those similarly formed, but those either sanguine / or nervous, or a compound of both ; for be tional, they both require that their own emo: tions should be perpetually prompted by an emotional companion, and that their children also be endowed with the emotional from the other parent. ‘That is, those who are cool should marry those who are impulsive and ing more strong than susceptible or emo: susceptible. Small, nervous men must not marry littl nervous or sangtiine women, lest both they and their children have quite too much of the hot-headed and impulsive, and die sud- \ 1 ~ 1 . 1 denly. Generally, ladies who are small are therefore more eagerly sought than large. Of course this general fact has its exceptions Some are small hereditarily, others rendered so by extra action in some form, over-study, over-work, or passional excitement ; because during growth, their intense nervous systems consumed energy faster than their weak vitas could manufacture it ; which dwarfed their stature. Webster preferred little women ; he coarseé. they fine ; he powerful, they susceptible; his love animal, theirs more sentimental: he forcible. “ney mliant. Short, rotund, smaikWHO ARE, AND ARE Nor, goned women attract and are attracted to tall and spare men; while slender women absolutely must wed stocky, wide-jowled, broad-shouldered men. Two very beautiful persons rarely do or should marry; nor two extra homely. ‘The fact is a little singular that very handsome women, who of course can have their pick, rarely marry good-looking men, but gener- ally give preference to those who are homely ; because that exquisiteness in which beauty originates, naturally blends with that power which accompanies huge noses, and dispro- portionate features. Psyche loved Apollo desperately, says Mythology, on s ae ee ee eee ee ee ee ~ Pe aor a eel ed " ee oesq : av a i a 3 é Ft é H j rs a Ps é 4 4 rn LH 5 be & AS 3 hee BRL: apex 1b gel ec ape se Jnr 8 Tusk Ee A i SP NPN at) Ore See aaa cn ak CEPT sta CN Dietician bene teeta ensigns alpacas ee 2 : & ® 4 a i # L Es 5 & & Rae: a i ae: 150 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND SOMESTIC LIFE. women’stights women; while those who willingly “obey orders,” need just such. Some men require a wife who shali take their part; yet all who do not need strong- willed women, should be careful how they marry them, Unless you love to be opposed, be careful not to matry one who often argues and talks back; for discussion before matri- age becomes obstinacy after. «A Crooked Stick. ” A sensible woman should not marry an obstinate but injudicious, unintelligent man ; because she cannot long endure to see and help him blindly follow his poor, but spurn her good, plans. Though such men need just sach women to help lay out their life-course, while such women could get ou passably vith such husbands who heeded their sug- gestions; yet such men plan poorly, blindly Peo affections. and each will distrust the other, ‘ollow their own wills, and authoritatively compel their wives to help carry them out. Obstinate men must be sensible, or else eontent with wives and children who are not. If they could only realize that such women are just the very ones they reqitire, yet that they should always ask and heed their advice, they would render their wives’ position most agreeable instead of painful, and every way most promotive of their mutual happiness and success. How im- portant a change would be effected by this apparently trifling condition! A submissive but intellectual woman may marry a man whose will is stronger, even though his intellect is smaller, than hers ; yet it is better for both if his intellect is still larger than hers, so that she may repose in his superior judgment. Such a woman feels inadequate to assume responsibilities or set herself at work, and must have some guide. Naturally dependent, she must lean, though even on a crooked stick. Fortun- f most any man. Hence, if her second hus band should be totally different from hez first, and third from either, she could yet conform to each with equal ease; and if force is large, will work most effectually and - willingfy with and for him, howeve1 opposite their specialties; besides quietly adapting herself to extreme vicissitudes, by making the best. of what is. Such, especially if love is large, make the very best of wives, be cause efficient and sensible, yet affectionate and conformable. And there are many such. he reserved or secretive should marry the frank. A cunning man cannot endure the least artifice in a wife. Those who are non-comimittal must marry those who are de inonstrative ; else however much they may love, neither will feel sure as to the other's while their children will be deceitful. ‘Those who are frank and confiding also need to be constantly forewarned by those who are sus picious, Lack of Resolution. A tiniid woman should never marry 4 hesitating man, lest, like frightened children, each keep perpetually re-alarming the other by imaginary fears; nor yet a careless man, for he would commit just indiscretions enough to keep her in perpetual “fear and trembling ;” but should marry one who Js bold, yet judicious, so that her intellect, by reposing in his tried judgment, can feel safe, and let her trust in him quiet her natura! fearfulness. A hopeless man should marty a resolute, hopeful woman, who is always telling how well things are govwg to turn out, and ens couraging, and who has sufficient judgment to be allowed the reins, lest the fears of both render him pusillanimous, and their childrens ately, however, she cau adapt herself to al-;| cowards Many men live tame lives, thoughWHO ARE, AND ARE NOT, abundantly capable of accomplishing almost anything, because too irresolute to once hegim ; whereas, with a judicious yet ex- pectant wife to prompt them to take initia- tory steps, they would fill responsible posi- tions. An industrious, thrifty, hard-working man should marry a woman tolerably saving and industrious. As the “almighty dollar” is now the great motor-wheel of humanity, and that to which most husbands devote Ve KG If ( My } WY “A y) wi sy, Z = 4 a EY AAA We WD) Ue E 7. ~~", me — = Ve= A y VA) ADAPTED TO KACH OTHER. 151 both to enjoy them together. Indeed, a good appetite in both can often be made to harmonize other discordant points, and promote concord. Men large in beauty should by no means marry women deficient in it; yet women in whom it is large may marry men in whom it is only fair, provided other traits are favorable ; for a man of taste can never en- dure a slattern, while a woman of taste can bear with a man who is careless of appear- A aes Ky YATE YiJi YY ZZ aS a SS SZ \\ 4 x SO ™, WS Dy Cy Zz SS L CAC oA, Z FAMILY JARS. oa An ill-temperea pair; neither considerate or amiable; neither self-possessed and quiet when ths other is enraged ; too much alike in disposition, petulant, excitable, unreasoning, proving constantly the infelicities of married life ; both human snapping-turtles. trem entire lives, to delve alone is uphill work. Much more if she indulges in ex- travagance. It is doubly important, there- fore, that both work together pecuniarily. But if either has property enough to create in both a feeling of contentment, large ac- quisition in the other is less important yet a difference here often engenders opposition elsewhere. Good livers should marry—he to provide table luxuries, she to serve them up, and ances, and love him, provided he has suffi- cient power and stamina of character to eclipse this defect by his sterling character- isties "yet He must let he “fx “Himes nicely. @ An Untidy Wiié, A clergyman of commanding talents, su- perior eloquence, and the highest moral worth, was publicly described as likely te matry a woman of superior taste, refine- ment, personal neatness, beauty, elegance of a es ee ee er ey a i on ee ee a ee ene eee Te ee be ee ee PIF AM te & lees ee OO eae oe a ade‘ * 4 A . ; ; rf rd P| , | $ b PB ‘ P é a me ieee ncn bathe allied et oe te ah RI ee ne Le on pete kth dha 2h ieee - a es . enone ape g ee Te a | POS. bh Sdihcia Phin as Bea ede ee ae be i§2 manners, poetry, and many other like ex- pressions denoting large beauty; whereas she was the reverse; but he lived unhappily, and spent much of his time trom home, be- cause he could not endure her coarseness and slatternly habits, and never took her out. He had married her money, and was any- thing but conjugally mated or happy; so that the prediction was right in principle. The rule was proved by the evils consequent on its violation. Animal love excessive in bot, prompts to that over-indulgence which breaks down the nervous systems of both, and renders their children too impulsive, fiery, and ani- mal; whereas, when one is passionate and the other passive, the former will inspire pas- sion in the latter, yet be toned down by the passive one; while their children will unite the Platonic love of the latter with the im- passioned of the former, aud be better than either; whereas, its deficiency in botu renders progeny too tamely constituted ever to enjoy or accomplish much. The irritable, yet approbative; must by no means marry those like themselves, lest the irritability of each, by blaming the other rouse mutual resentment. Yet if such are married, both must be especially careful how they cast any reflections; because the other party construes them to mean much more than was intended. Prob- ably more conjugal animosities originate in this wounded ambition than in any other faculty. Nothing as effectually rouses and intensifies every existing antagonism. Pride is a good thing, but must be respected and humored, at least not upbraided, or mor- tified. Even if a man can gratify a woman’s love of style and display, he must not cen- sure her in private, unless he is willing to kindle her hate, and spoil their children. COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Fault-finding beaux and pirls during courtship, are sure to scold intolerably after marriage. If your moderate ambition can endure censure, marry; but if not, take timely warning from ‘straws.’ One who is hard to please before matriage, will be much harder after; while one who patiently endures and forbears during courtship, will be more so after marriage, if kept in a love mood; and a beau who insists on having his way before, will be dogmatical if not domineering after; and must marry a meek, patient, accommodating woman. This counterbalancing law also governs the intellectual faculties. If a man who has large perceptives with small reflectives, mmatries a woman having large reflectives with small perceptives, since both transmit what is strongest in themselves, their chil- dren will inherit his large perceptives along with her large reflectives; thus possess- ing the perfections of both, unmarred by the imperfections of either. He can fe inember, but not think; while she can think, but not remember; yet their children can both think and remember. ‘This like- wise improves their copartnership. If he, unable to plan, should marry one equally deficient in causation, all their attempts must fail, because poorly devised; whereas prosperity now attends them, becausc her large causality does up the planning for both, and his pereeptives the perceiving; so that both prosper much better together than if alike, or either separately. This is true of memory and judgment, of language and sense, of poetry and philosophy, of each and all the intellectual capacities, so that these offsettings can be made to improve all mar: riages as well as offspring. When both have the same defects their offspring will show these defects in a greater degree.CHAPTER XIV. The Model Wife. HO makes the best wife? Not a weak, forceless, stupid, unedu- cated giddy creature. The best wife has certain marked traits and charac- teristics, which every man should look for be- fore putting his foot in any “ entangling alliance,” and failing to find, should pause and not go a single step farther. One of these traits is industry. By in- dustry I do not mean merely laboriousness, merely labor or activity of body, for pur- poses of gain or of saving; for there may be industry amongst those who have more money than they know well what to do with, and there may be lazy ladies, as well as lazy farmers’ and tradesmen’s wives. ‘There is no state of lifein which industry in a wife is not necessary to the happiness and pros- perity of the family, at the head of the house- hold affairs of which she is placed. If she be lazy there will be lazy servants, and which is a great. deal worse, children habitually lazy ; everything, however neces- sary to be done, will be put off to she last moment ; then it will be done badly, and in many cases not at all; the dinner will be too late; the journey or the visit will be tardy ; inconveniences of all sorts will be continu- ally arising ; there will always bea heavy arrear of things unperformed ; and this, even amongst the most wealthy of all, is a great curse ; for if they have no business imposed upon them by necessity, they make business for themselves ; life would be unbearable without it; and therefore a lazy woman must always be a curse, be her rank or sta- tion what it may. But who is to tell whether a girl will make an industrious woman ? How is the purblind lover especially, to be able to ascertain whether she, whose smiles and dimples, and bewitching lips have half bereft him of his senses ; how 1s he to be able to judge, from anything that he can see, whether the be- loved object will be industrious or lazy? Why, it is very difficult ; it is a matter that reason has very little to do with; but there are, nevertheless, certain outward and visible signs, from which aman, not wholly de prived of the use of his reason, may form a pretty accurate judgment as to this matte. It was a story in Philadelphia, some years ago, that a young man, who was courting one of three sisters, happened to be ona visit to her, when all the three were present, and when one said to the others, ‘‘ I wonder where our needleis.”» Upon which he with- drew, as soon as wes consistent with the rules of politeness, resolved never to think more of a girl who possessed a needle only in partnership, and who, it appeared, was not too well informed as tothe place where even that share was deposited. This was, to be sure, a very flagrant in- stance of a want of industry ; forif the third part of the use of aneedle satisfied her when single, it was reasonable to anticipate that tiarriage would banish that useful imple- ment altogether. Butsuch instances are sel- dom suffered to come in contact with the eyes and ears of the lover, to disguise all de- fects from whom is the great business, not only of the girl herself, but of her whole family. {53 7 ee 8 ee Pe ae a nN a ee ae ee Pe a ad Pe a a eee SS er ad adel ee te anneal pe @ 3 3 & 5 ie DE LAP dL ale et dd are Peer ea ee ee Dacre spent ee ce eco ag ak cesta tara RO EAA RR A Ao SOND solic ad ads nial ee ee a aa ne prea fief OS hak a DS R $ ts eo <4 ze Bs , H Sy § F = Ma : 156 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. ° will, nine times out of ten, not be the man- ager of a house; but she must have her ress, and other little matters under her con- trol. If she be costly in these; if, in these, she step above her rank, or even to the top of it; if she purchase all she is able to pur- chase, and prefer the showy to the useful, the pay and the fragile to the less sightly and more durable, he may be sure that the dispo- sition will cling to her through life. If he perceive in her a taste for costly food, costly furniture, costly amusements; if he find her love of gratification to be bounded only by her want of means; if he find her full of admiration of the trappings of the rich, and of desire to be able to imitate them, he may be preity sure that she will not spare his nurse when once she gets her hand into it; nd, therefore, if he can bid adieu to her sharms, the sooner he does it the better. Earn her a horse to ride, she will want a vig; earn the gig, she will want a chariot; get her that, she will long for a coach-and- four; and, from stage to stage, she will tor- ment you to the end of her or your days; for still there will be somebody with a finer equipage than you can give her; and as long as this is the case, you will never have rest. The Tidy Housekeeper. T‘here must also be cleanliness. This is a capital ingredient; for there never yet was, and there never will be, love of long dura- tion, sincere and ardent love, in any man towards a “filthy mate.” Ido not say that there are not men enough to live peaceably and even contentedly, with dirty, sluttish women; for there are some who seem to like the filth well enough. But what I contend for is this, that there never can exist, for any length of time, ardent affection in any man towards a woman who is filthy either in her person or in her house affairs. Men may be careless as to their own persons; they may, | from the nature of their business, or from their want of time to adhere to neatness in dress, be slovenly in their own dress and habits; but they do not relish this in theiz wives, who must still have charms; and charms and filth do not go together. Neatness in Dress. It is not dress that the husband wants to be perpetual: it is not finery; but cleanliness is everything. ‘The French women dress enough, especially when they sally forth. Mr John Tredwell, of Long Island, used to say that the French were “ pigs in the parlor and peacocks on the promenade ;” an allit- eration which ‘ Canning’s self” might have envied! ‘This occasional cleanliness is not, the thing that an American husband wants: he wants it always; indoors as weil as out; by night as well as by day; on the floor as well as on the table; and, however he may grumble about the “fuss” and the “ex. pense” of it, he would grumuie more if he had it not. I once saw a picture representing th amusements of Portuguese lovers; that is to say, three or four young men, dressed in gold or silver laced clothes, each having a young girl, dressed like a princess, and affec- tionately engaged in hunting down and kili- ing the vermin in his head! ‘This was, per: haps, an exaggeration; but that it should have had the shadow of foundation, was enough to fill me with contempt for the whole nation. The dress is a good criterion in two res pects; first, as to its color; for if the white be a sort of yellow, cleanly hands would have been at work to prevent that. A white: yellow cravat, or shirt, on a man, speaks at once the character of his wife; and, be you assured, that she will not take with your dress pains which she has never taken with her own. ‘Chen the manner of putting onthe dress is no bad foundation for judging. If it be careless, slovenly, if it do not fit properly, no matter for its mean quality: mean as it may be, it may be neatly and trim- ly put on ; and if it be not, take care of your- self; for, as you will soon find to your cost, a sloven in one thing is a sloven in all things. Look at the shoes! If they be trodden on one side, loose on the foot, or run down at the heel, it isa very bad sign; and, as to slip-shod, though at coming down in the morning and even before daylight, make up your mind to arope, rather than to live with aslip-shod wife. Ob! how much do women lose by inat- ‘ention to these matters? Men, 1m general, say nothing about it to their wives; but they think about it; they envy their luckier neighbors; and, in numerous cases, conse- quences the most serious arise from this ap- parently trifling cause. Beauty is valuable ; itis one of the ties; and a strong tie too: that, however, cannot last to old age; but the charm of cleanliness never ends but with sife itself. The Queen of the Kitchen, There must.also be a knowledge of dv- mestic affairs. It was the fashion in former times, for ladies to understand a great deal about these affairs, and it would be very hard to make me believe that this did not tend to promote the interests and well-being of their husbands. A thorough acquaintance with domestic affairs is so necessary in every wife that the lover ought to have it continually in hiseye. Not only a knowledge of these affairs, not only to know how things ought to be done, but how to do them, not only to know what ingredients ought to be put, into a pie or a pudding, but to be able to make the pie or the pudding. Young peo- ple, when they come together, ought not, anless they have fortunes, or are in a great THE MODEL WIFE. 157 way of business, to think about servants Servants fer what! ‘To help them to eat and drink and sleep? When children come, there must be some help in a farmet’s or tradesman’s house; but until then, what call for a servant in a house, the master of which has to earn every mouthful that is consumed ? Love Can’t Live on Heavy Bread. Fating and drinking come three tiraes every day; they must come; and however little we may, in the days of our health and vigor, care about choice food and about cookery, we very soon get tired of heavy or burnt bread. and of spoiled joints of meat; we bear them for a time, or for two perhaps, but about the third time, we lament in- wardly; about the fifth time it must be an extraordinary honeymoon that will keep us from complaining; if the like continue for a month or two, we begin to repent; and then adieu to all our anticipated delights, We discover, when it is too late, that we have not got a helpmate, but a burden; and the fire of love being damped, the unfortu- | nately educated creature, whose parents are more to blame than she, is, unless she re solve to learn to do her duty, doomed to lead a life very nearly approaching to that. of misery; for, however considerate the hus. band, he never can esteem her as he would have done, had she been skilled and able in domestic affairs. Never fear the toil to her; exercise is good for health; and without health there is no beauty; asick beauty may excite pity; but pity is a short-lived passion. Besides, what is the labor insuchacase? And how many thousands of ladies, who loll away the day, would give half their fortunes for that sound sleep which the stirring housewife seldom fails to enjoy! Honest labor means health and happiness. Creek eee ed Pa ke oa “ RC ee ia ane Pee ee a ee ae ow leSAI So Bn BS hah tenia aS Mig IE GENT ANRC RT SHALES ME A ACS OS ES NE ISIE ET obi Deca Rekead at al nM oc ke tha oe =i eee ) Sunshine in the Home. Good temper is a jewel. This is a very Mificult thing to ascertain beforehand. Smiles are so cheap; they are so easily put on for the occasion; and, besides, the frowns are, according to the lover’s whim, inter- preted into the contrary. By “sood tem- ner.” Ido not mean easy temper, a serenity MISS PHILIPPA FAWCETT. Mentat temperament: large perceptive faculties: very harmonious organization ; first lady who ever re- ceived the highest honors over all competitors at the great University of Cambridge, England. which nothing disturbs, for that is a mark of laziness. Sulkiness, if you be rot too blind to perceive it, is a temper to be avoided by all means. A sulky man is bad enough; what, then, must be a sulky woman, and that woman a wife; a constant inmate, a companion day and night! Only think of the delight of sitting at the same table, and sleeping in the same bed, for a week, and not exchange a word all the while! Very bad to be scolding for such a length of time; but this is far better than the sulks and sullen deportment. If you have your eyes, and look sharp, you will discover symptoms of this, if it un- 158 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. happily exist. She will, at some time og other, show it towards some one or other of the family; or perhaps towards yourself; and you may be sure that, in this respect, mar riage will not mend her. Sulkiness arises from capricious displeasure, displeasure not founded on reason. ‘The party takes offence unjustifiably, is unable to frame a complaint, and therefore expresses displeasure by silence. The remedy for sulkiness is, to suffer it to take its full swing; but it is better not to have the disease in your house; and to be matried to it is little short of madness. Everlasting Fault-finders. Ouerulousness is a great fault. No man, and especially, no woman, likes to hear eter- pal plaintiveness. ‘That she complain, and roundly complain, of your want of punctu- ality, of your cooluess, of your neglect, ¢: your liking the company of others; these are all very well, more especially as they are frequently but too just. But an everlasting complaining, without rhyme or reason, is @ bad sign. It shows want of patience, and, indeed, want of sense. But the contrary of this, a cold indiffer- ence, is still worse. ‘When will you come again? You can never find time to come 1y company better than iuine.” ‘These, when groundless, are very here. You like a1 teasing, and demonstrate a disposition too full of anxiousness; but from a girl whe always receives you with the same civil smile, lets you, at your own good pleasure, depart with the same; and who, when you take her by the hand, holds her cold fingers as straight as sticks, I say, God in his mercy preserve me! Pertinacity is a very bad thing in anys: body, and especially in a young woman} and it is sure to increase in force with the age of the party. To have the last word is a poo triumph; but with some people it is a speciesof disease of the mind. be extremely troublesome: and if you find am ounce of it in the maid, it will becomea pound in the wife. An eternal disputer is a most disagreeable companion: and where young women thrust their say into conver- sations carried on by older persons, give their opinions in a positive manner, and court a contest of the tongue, those must be | very boid men whe will encounter them as | Wives. still, of all the faults as to temper, your | melancholy ladies have the worst, unless you e have the same mental disease. Most wives | are, at times, misery-makers; but these carry iton as a regular trade. ‘They are always unhappy about something, either past, pres- ent, or tocome. Both arms full of children ; isa pretty efficient reme‘iy in inmost cases; | 3 but if the ingredients be wanting, a little want, a little real trouble, a little genuine | affliction must, if you would effect a cure, be | $5 resorted to. But this is very painful to man of any feelings; and, therefore, the bes way is to avoid a connection which is to give you a life of wailing and sighs. ct Female Loveliness. Although no woman is to be biamed ot despised for her plainness, yet beauty is to be coveted. ‘Though I have reserved this to the last of the things to be desired in a wife, I by no 1neans think it the last in point of gmportance. ‘I'he less favored part of the sex say, that “beauty is but skin deep;” and this is very true; but it is very agreeable, though, for all that. Pictures are only paint-deep, or pencil-deep; but we admire them, nevertheless. ‘Handsome is that nandsome does,” used toe say to me an old man, who had marked me out for his not over-handsome daughter. “Please your eye and plague your heart,”, is an adage that 4 e ° : e ° e . a) want of beauty invented, I dare say. more ' #t as from their own vicious disposition: THE MODEL WIFE, 19 In a wife it must {| | than a thousand years ago. ‘These adage vould say, if they had but the courage, tha’ beauty is inconsistent with chastity, with sobriety of conduct, and with all the female virtues, ‘The argument is, that beauty ex poses th= possessor to greater temptation than q 3 4 t j } i | i FANNY DAVENPORT. Hinely developed in form, features and brain; ty: | of physical force and emotior.al temperament. women not beautiful are exposed to; and i that, therefore, their fall is more probable Let us see a little how this matter stands, it is certainly true that pretty girls will have more, and more ardent, admirers than ugly ones; but as to the temptation wher in their unmarried state, there are few se very ugly as to be exposed to no temptation at all; and which is the most likely to resists she who has a choice of lovers, or she whe if she let the occasion slip, may never have it again? Which of the two is most likely to set a high value upon her reputation ; she whom all beholders admire, or she who is admired, at best, by mere chance? And as to women in the married state, this argument assumes, that when they fall, dl ee a ee ae Pa Se ae nine = re ee P ee ae a ee eae ee iadeee arden en ei Wi Ba Pie sD SFT uaa as ee aastah sald are ei itated eae AP ale ra Fe ik ata Nain aca ak LEAT Nick fhe ha DO ee rae dip oa cea ae RRR AJ FSO Sasa Li asd hank aie Sanaa eS Aerts Sea ee ee ee ee ee emer 960 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC WIFE. when the fact is, that, if you search the an- vals of conjugal infidelity, you will find that, nine cases out of ten, the fault isin the hus- hand, Itis his neglect, his flagrant disre- gard, his frosty indifference, his foul exam- pies it is to these that, nine times out of ten, he owes the infidelity of his wife; and if I ————— LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, Active organization and adapted to business aff brain full large for body ; amiable disposition Sais tous lips ; famous for conjugal devotion. were to say ninety-nine times out of a hun- dred, the facts, if verified, would, I am cer- tain, bear me out. And whence this neg- lect, this disregard, this frosty indifference ; whence this foul example? Because it is easy, in so many cases, to find some woman more beautiful than the wife. This is no justification for the husband to plead; for he has, with his eyes open, made asolemn contract ; if she have not beauty enough to please him, he should havesought | it in some other woman. At any rate, as ; conjugal infidelity is, in so many cases; as | it is generally caused by the want of affec- | tion and due attention in the husband, it fol- tows, of course, that it must more frequeutly | happen in the case of ugly than m that of handsome women. As to manners and temper, there are ver tainly some handsome women who are cons ceited and arrogant; but as they have all the best reasons in the world for being pleased with themselves, they afford you the best chance of general good-humor; and this good-humor is a very valuable commodity in the married state Women of Wax and Wood. Some that are called by most persons handsome, and that are such at the firs | glance, are dull, inanimate things, that might as well have been made of wax, or of wood. But the truth is, that this is not beauty, for this is not to be found only in the form of the features, but in the movements of them also. sesides, here nature is very impartial; forshe gives animation promiscuously to the hand- some as well as to the ugly; and the want of this in the former is surely as bearable as in the fatter. But the great use of female beauty, the ereat practical -dvantage of it is, that it naturally and unavoidably tends to keep the husband in good-humor with himself, te make him, to use the dealer’s phrase, pleased with his bargain. Wher old age approaches, and the aeele: ave become endeared to each other by a long series of joint cares and in. terests, and when children have come and bound them together by the strongest ties that nature has in store, at this age the features and the person are of less conse- quence; but in the young days of matrimony, when the roving eye of the bachelor is scarcely become steady in the head of the husband, it is dangerous for him to see, every time he stirs out, a face more captivating than that of his companion for life. Beauty is, in some degree, a matter of taste} what one man admires, another does not}and it is fortunate for us that it isthus, But sull there are certain things that all men admire; and a husband is always pleased when he perceives that a portion, at least, of these things are in his own possession; he takes this possession as a compliment to him- self; there must, he will think the world will believe, have been some merit in him, some charm, seen or unseen, to have caused him to be blessed with the acquisition. Healthy Wives and Children versus Sickly. And then there arise so many things, sick- ness, misfortune in business, losses, many, many things, wholly unexpected; and there are so Many circumstances, perfectly name- less, to communicate to the new-married mar the fact, that it is not a real angel of whom ne has got the possession ; there are so many things of this sort, so many and such power- rul dampers of the passions, and so many in- centives to cool reflection, that it requires something, and a good deal too, te keep the husband in countenance in this his altered and enlightened state. To be sure, when a man has, from what- ever inducement, once married a woman, he is unjust and cruel if he even slight her on account of her want of beauty, and 1 he treat her harshly on this account, he is a brute. But it requires a greater degree of reflection and consid:ration than falls to the lot 6f men in general to make them act with justice in such a case; and, therefore, the best way is to guard, if you can, against the temptation to commit such injustice, which is to be done in no other way, than by not marrying any one that you do not think handsome, Robust health in wife and mother is al- most as indispensable as in husband and father. He requires one who 4elps, not hin- ders, and can take part in their mutual labors THE MODEL WIFE. 167 mount prerequisite of everything terrestrial. Without it none can think clearly, or love heartily. A nervous woman may cry franti- cally when you leave her, but these morbid tears are worse than none. Whether a wife is chosen to love and be loved, to live with or help along; or even as a drudge, a healthy one isa hundred times better than a sickly. A Living Death. Rosy children constitute the great ult: mate of marriage, and are worth a thousand. fold more than sickly ones; but their consti- tutional health depends much on that of their mother, whose office is to impart vital- ity te her young. Vet how can she impart what she does not possess? ‘Those who marry weakly girls may expect their little, feeble, sickly children to ery night and day, require continual nursing and doctoring, and then torture them with feats lest any atmos- pheric change should blow them into a pre- mature grave, after parental heartstrings have become fully entwined around them, But, to crown all, after bestowing a full manly soul on a poor delicate creature, besides all the loss of her health and cost of her weak- liness, to be tortured by fit after fit of sick- ness, till het very helplessness and sufferings have only redoubled your tender sympathy; ee her torn from you by death; inter her emaciated corpse by the side of that of yous darling babe, and return a_heart-brokey widower to your now desolate home; you: life spoiled, because vou married that delicate Miss ; whereas, by marrying a healthy one, you could just as well have raised a goodly family of brisk, blooming children, and haé a healthy, long-lived helpmate, is indeed terrible. Where zs your sense, foresight, and busi- ness sagacity, that you lay a train for these dreadful consequences, when you might just and interests. Animal vigor is the para- i as well lay one fer felicitous ones instead 7 ad ee a ae ee Pe Pee ee ae tel aed ial ee © a * *sie Aig RON A Pe raEN VAT BaP nn hs ES oka ie i ed alata aval id a gS NE REN rut ee eek are er Gd a aA aed ne a LE ae a ade ee eee clog prin raat Se ROL RAO RRR. SOND Saag a Ss ads niacin ac eC ~s 1 en er Set Rear NES ONG Se BPE SS OT Py P | § bi ft a 162 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Or perhaps she barely lives along, feeble, full of aches and ailments ; just able to go about ; | becomes unable to go with you to field or garden, lecture-room or concert, to ride or walk, or take part with you im your recrea- tions or labors; tame in character, because sickly; languid in all her pleasures, thoughts, and desires; exact, exacting, and difficult to please; not able to relish the finest peach ; discontented; dissatisfied ; practically im- peaching all you say and do for her; taking everything the cross-grained way ; censuring and irritating all, because in a censuring mood; her natural loveliness turned into bit- terness; all her mental faculties retroverted 5 both awakening pity and provoking anger, because, like a sick baby, always in a cross mood; nothing like that sweet, soft, winning, complaisant woman she once was, and would again be if again healthy. Please figure out the profits and losses of a healthy wife overa sickly. One exclaimed, after having buried a weakly wife and all his children, “ Well, next time, I’ll marry a healthy girl, if I have to marry an Irish girl.” How can sensible men trifle with their dearest interests, pecuniary and affectional, as those do who marry weakly women ? Still, marriage will often restore them. A farmer, condoled for the loss of his wife, replied, “‘Oh, not so very great a loss either, for she has not been down cellar these five years !? while another, on losing one who made excellent butter, said, ‘I had rather lost any two of my cows; because she made such proper good butter.” ‘Though a sicke | ly wife is bette1 than none, yet one medium; — in many other respects, but healthy, is many fold preferable to one superior in most other respects, yet sickly. Words cannot do justice to this subject. Yet a robust woman is often neglected, and delicate prized. Ladies even boast of their weaknesses, headaches, sideaches, back aches, nervousness, sleeplessness, ‘com- plaints” here, there, every where—boasting that they don’t know enough to get and keep well, and are all nerve! Nervousness is their paramount ailment. How commion, how almost universal. Why? Because pushed right from cradle into school, and kept there till too late to develop phys: ically. What martyrdom? Novels, feverish love, late parties, self-abuse, with an in-door life, and many other like educational causes, complete the ruin of their sensory systems, and make them nervous wrecks. Of course their precocious children are few, and die by millions, while those that live are weakly. And this evil redoubles apace. Robustness and exquisiteness are com. patible. Nothing in either conflicts with anything in the other. People think other- wise, but mistake. Excellent muscles, di- gestion, circulation, rather promote than prevent refinement. So does a hearty sex« uality, passion included. Indeed, a sexless passive woman cannot be exquisite, yet may be morbid. To create and augment this ex: quisiteness, so as to transmit it, is the specific office of sexuality. Nature knows what she wants and has provided for it,CHAPTER XV. The Model Husband. FyROFESSOR FOWLER well says that animal power is the great base of all capacity, all functional excellence. What 3 is life without health? What are the sickly worth to themselves, families, or the world? Asa machine, however well adapted to execute the best of work, is worthless without motive power; so animal stamina is the first prerequisite for companionship. A good physique is indispensable even to men- tal power and moral excellence, which wax, wane, or become vitiated, according to ex- isting physical conditions. Men always have worshipped, will worship, at the shrine of female deauty, and woman at that of masculine strength » both of which consist mainly in vigorous animal condi- tions. Let those girls who know no better, choose little-faced, little-footed, small-boned, shrivelled, soft-handed, soft-headed, nervous, white-livered young men, well nigh emascu- lated by their effeminate habits; but you do not want them. ‘T‘hey may answer merely to beau you into and out of a parlor or ball- room, or escort you toa party or picnic, or for flirtation; but they will make miserable husbands, because they are not sick enough to nurse, nor well enough to excite your whole-souled love, and are so fidgety and irritable that to please or love them is impos- sible. ' Indoor clerks and puny dandies are indeed more polite than sturdy farmers and mechan- icss but as conjugal partners, robust work- men are altogether preferable. Men who remain much within doors must exercise ness. Are not good, firm health and a hardy constitution quite as safe a reliance for the Support of a family as capital in business? Does not ability to work exceed bank stock] Miss Young America stands badly in he: own light by refusing the hardy farmer and resolute mechanic for the more accomplished but less reliable clerk, or idle inheritor of 2 fortune. ‘These anti-working ideas of both sexes are rendering them almost unmarriage- abie just from their muscular inertia, and Tuining future generations. At this rate of decline, what feeble, delicate mortals de- scendants must become in the next genera: tion? And as few as weakly! Yet indi. viduals are not to blame. Our societariax ‘ customs are thus fatal to our future. Owi men rush from work to study, or some seden. tary employment, or else to business. ‘Theis minds must be educated at the expense o! their constituticns, to the ruin of both. 1]! they adopt business, they become so anxious and apply their minds so long and labori- ously, as to sap the very roots of anima’ power, and become poor and delicate before old enough to marry. Our nation cannot long survive these enervating habits, except by renewed importations. Woman, patron- ize muscle, not dandyism. Smile on strength, not delicacy. And, young man, indoors and out, make health paramount, both for its own sake, and that of your pros: pective wife; and also for its indispensa: bility to the matrimonial and parental rela: tions. Health, pluck, courage to face the world @aily, or suffer the decline of their Manli- and conquer it, are what you want. 103 7 a ee ee ee ee Pet kde — a et al . : Ce ee Pe ee > ee ee a PY . he te ee Peele La Sin = Ne eemepen sme: , a Se eae ale ee ee ea eee ab a eaLaaniat ecto elicits he etek Me PBI PIN PL tid) oe Ce Nae ee eigen eee RS CORR PSL a Sein mr es es Stapetentre= ae : a % of P S Z * Hi ) con 104 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. A girl is not to be despised and rejected because she has wealth Even rich ladies may be beautiful, genuine, affectionate, do- mestic, and not to blame for raving plenty of cash. Poverty is nota virtue. Yet dol- jars bind no hearts, and hearts warm with tife and love are the only things that count. =z Ss FN A PINS SIR GEORGE NARES. Type of health and manhood; happy combination of the mental, moral and physical ; cool and ener- getic ; Arctic explorer, whe discovered the relics of Sir John Franklin. Love alone does or can ever become the uniting motive of a hearty sexual union. Marrying for money on either side breaks Nature’s conjugal laws, and punishes every perpetrator. Though girls may look well to a family support, yet good health and a willing heart are a more reliable support than ready money. Where industrious pro- posers have any work or business, love will provide the balance. Dismiss avy who have not. Yet marrying for an establishment is an sutrageous swindle. Many, rendered heart- > ~~ less by disappointment, turn fortune-hunters, | That hypocrite, who said, “I married him | for his money, not himself,” will make his money fly. Wherein do such differ from “women of pleasure?” Do not both pros titute themselves alike for money? Who ever matries more from vanity than love. prostitutes this most sacred human senti ment, and will be punished accordingly. Men who have money must keep a sharp lookout for such vixen deceivers. Matrimonial Swindlers. Fortune-hunting beau! You shameless hypocrite in thus pretending to love a wo- man only to rob her of her patrimony! If money is your motive, say so, not lie out right in action; and a lie of deeds is a hun- dred-fold worse than one merely spoken, Spider, coiling your web around your unsts- pecting victim, and she a young lady, only that you may live on her money! and coax her to dove you for it besides! Dastardly villain, ten times more despicable than : gamblers who profess to rob, while you rob in the most hypocritical disguise a man can assume to woman. ‘Thieves and swindlers are comparative saints; for they leave some, while you grasp all. ‘They rob men of only dollars, while you rob a female of her heard as well as purse; they by night, you by night and day; they strangers, you an int» mate;. they under cover of darkness, you under that of love; they by false keys, but you by false pretences. Whoever marries a woman for her money, swindles her by false pretences out of the patrimony her doting parents have treasured up for her life-long support, and then abuse her; for all who thus marry, abuse thus. Breaking locks is innocence in comparisomi with breaking hearts; for this both shortens her life and spoils its remainder. If retre | butive Nature should let such transgressiow —t...“the very stones would cry aloud for ven- geance.” She visits iniquity in the day, and the way of the sin. Such sin causes its own suffering, by putting you ina mean, depend- ent position. A Quaker worth two shillings married a Quakeress worth three, who twitted him every little while thus: “Anyhow, I was worth the most at our marriage!’ One who knows “by sad experience” says, “I would as soon cut off my arms as again martry any woman with one dollar, or more than one common dress.” A fellow married a woman’s money, she being thrown in—and it sometimes takes piles of money to make the “thrown in” even endurable—with which a splendid rid- ing-establishment was procured, in which she wanted to ride with another man, to which he objected, when she replied: “Know in the start, sir, that my money bought this establishment; so I calculate to ride when, where, and wth whom I like; and you, puppy, must grin and bear it, pa- tiently too.” “Your money bought me too,” was his meeching reply. How must such feel, all “bought up,” “owned,” “supported,” and by a woman. And expected in return to “dance attendance.” “TI bought you cheap; see that you serve me well;” yet she “paid too dear for her whistle” then. She will thrust your dependence into your face every hour by looks, words, and actions, and oblige you, poor coot, to grin and bear whatever stripes she chooses to impose. You will soon find yourself where the nether end of the kite is—tacked on dehznd and below, and switched around briskly during every blow. Served you right, you mercenary hypocrite. You have ignored womanhood, intelligence, THE MODEL HUSBAND. of her statutes zo “unwhipped of justice,” | Verily, poltroon, if you zeally must be supported, you will find the county poor- house preferable to the matrimonial; for she will keep you under her harrow, and har: Tow you worse than any other poor toady ever was harrowed; but you deserve elt MISS CLARA GREENWALD, ‘ype of the perfect woman; bright, self-reliant YP Pp & by strong in mind and body; school-teacher at the age of thirteen, the youngest in the United States. And yet our highways and byways, even churches, are literally thronged with these miserable, “shiftless,” deceitful, scalliwag, pilgrim travelers in search of a matrimonial poor-house. A woman cannot have a paltry five hundred dollars without being literally besieged for it. And any man who gets it will be a toady husband all his life. Independence is an attribute of manli- ness. Let me make my own fortune, rathez even than inherit it, and live by the sweat of my ozz brow, in preference even to that of my father’s. Enough to derive from parents name, character, and support, till barely able to support self. This venality of marriage in aristocratic and rich families is thrift, everything except a few paltry dollars. outrageous; yet is offset by the wife haying ad ee ae ee eet Bo KY wine > . " ee" : a oh SS et ies ee a ae pape a de co onan oe tae Se on ey a ee aeONE counestenl Wish Tita Apert tanta ta Serf DONS SK oer eae eee eed abatah stm at aoe Tusk es PBR PA LIN PD al) aL ca Dd a LRA te yt ane eenioneneasiteicae : ADR ard ier NERO RIOR gees 5 Te eed ap an neat oe PUNO RR M1 PPA as aah nda a eta seem nasty epee IMME RWI NCU CASS EWP SEG CePA WTR NAN 8 on Sn Dh ee S e a O 4 166 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. ner “ chere antt,” or lover, wholly irrespect- ive of her husband, who only possesses her dowry and fortune, while another has he: heart. Would this were all! One of England’s richest heiresses, while glistening in diamonds, evinced the most hopeless melancholy in the midst of the gayest assembly. Religious herself, she loved a divine; but her proud family in- sisted that she should marry wealth; yet she paid them back, by pertinaciously refusing to marry at all; and is most miserable in spite of untold riches, and more hopelessly wretched than her penniless washerwoman. Nature always punishes such breaches of her laws by spoiling the life of both victims. Did not the world-renowned conjuga: es a a ee a en a cee " eee oo. Ce en ed oP ae Pt eae amend Pees be ee be ernWay Fe ay a easel bean RULE ae I stds nT tebe fe 5 ee aca Pen) Pat ee ey Scere ie 3:8 etme Oe NA Si hin A Tp te Ri pte nl INERT AON RIND: SUNN ASP OOS A GAARA SEE Ne AE OAK ABI Be fois Sather sae ME Pee Pe Was Me taabsissal PS 376 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. what he reads, sometimes finds something to taugh at—which I do so wish he would tell me, along with his business, or any outside news-—-till, dinner announced, he eats in silence; when, putting on his hat he says, ‘Wife, I shall not return to tea to-night. Do TYPE OF A BRUTAL HUSBAND Low forehead ; defective intellectual and morai facul- ties ; coarse nature ; pride and self-conceit predominant. f — senile casting liiaanial A not wait for me, or even sit up; for I may | remain out quite late.’ He says: “Wife, here are garden and gardener. Manage both, and see that garden truck enough is raised for winter; whereas, if he | would only once a week show some interest in it, say, ‘That is well, but this might be bettered thus,’ I “hould be so delighted. He Says: ““There are Lorses and gfuom. Ride out when and where you please; they will be the better for daily exercise ;’ whereas, if he would only ride out wzte me once a week, the memory of that ride would so sanctify the others as to render them also delightful ; | yet, as it is, [take no pleasure in them. He says: | “ + Pe nr ee al ns 5 bee tel teat at eae ea owS 3 x + Pee ee rn eek ad mate air eclnal-o eatin? econ tac ee oo 3 Pe ALA LANL PD le) Oodle hata eve Tos Seer Gt ee ee ee a ERC * a i ps mit Cog o ‘ a Se ea ee ee Rs ee eae oe ag an cence a Ra ed REPRE a % ecard pac icak Pee AW SDC ee a 2a colada aad re eee _ Oe ee ee LD ee rae eWeek ee oI : og oe: 180 to prevent ladies from being burned. For- tunately for them, preposterous crinolines are out of fashion; lady-burning ought not to be considered one of the institutions of our land. ‘There will be too many accidents even with the utmost care and caution. A nursery is usually kept too hot; the temperature in the winter time ought not to exceed 65 degrees Fahrenheit. A good thermometer should be considered an indis- pensable requisite to a mursery- A child in a hot, close nursery is bathed in perspiration 5 if he leave the room to go to one of lower temperature, the pores of his skin are sud- denly closed, and either a severe cold, or an ‘nflammation of the lungs, or an attack of bronchitis, is likely to ensue. Moreover, the child is both weakened and enervated by the heat, and thus readily falls a prey to disease. A child ought never to be permitted to sit with his back to the fire; if he be allowed, #t weakens the spine, and thus his whole frame ; it causes a rush of blood to the head and face, and predisposes him to catch cold. Everything Must be Pure. Let a nurse make a point of opening the aursery window every time that she and her fittle charge leave the nursery, if her absence be only for halfan hour. The mother her- self ought to see that this advice is followed, pure air is so essential to the well-being of a child. Pure air and pure water, and let me add, pure milk, are for a child the grand and ptincipal requisites of health. Look well to the drainage of your house and neighborhood. A child is very suscept- ‘ble to the influence of bad drainage. Bad drains are fruitful sources of scarlet fever, of diphtheria, of diarrhcea, etc. It is sad to be reminded that, whatever evils threaten the health of population, whether from pollu- ious of water or of air—whether from bad COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE, drainage or overcrowding, they fall heaviest upon the most innocent victims——upon chil: dren of tender years. ‘Their delicate frames are infinitely more sensitive than the hard. ened constitutions of adults, and the breath of poison, or the chill of hardships, easily blights their tender life. A nursery floor ought not to be washed oftener than once a week; and then the child or children should, until it be dry, be sent into another room. Poisonous Wall-Paper. The constant wetting of a nursery is a fre quent source of illness among children. ‘The floor ought, of course, to be kept clean ; but this may be done by the servant thoroughly sweeping the room out every morning before her little charge makes his appearance. Do not have your nursery wall covered with green paper-hangings. Green paper- hangings contain large quantities of arsenic ——arsenite of copper(Scheele’s green)-—which, I need scarcely say, is a virulent poison, and which flies about the room in the form of powder. ‘There is frequently enough poison on the walls of a room to destroy a whole neighborhood. There is another great objection to having your nursery walls covered with green papete hangings; if any of the paper should become loose from the walls, a little child is very apt to play with it, and to put it, as he does everything else, to his mouth. This is not an imaginary state of things, as four children in one family have been known to lose theif lives from sucking green paper-hangings. Green dresses, as they are colored with a preparation of arsenic, are equally as dangers ous as green paper-hangings; a child ought, therefore, never to wear a green dress. “It may be interesting to some of our readers,” says Land and Water, “to know thatuew green, so fashionable for ladies’ dresses, is just as dangerous in its nature as the green wall-paper, about which so much was written some time since. It is prepared with a large quantity of arsenic ; and we have been assured byseveral leading dressmakers, that the work- women employed in making up dresses of this color are seriously affected with all the symp toms of arsenical poisoning. Let our lady friends take care.” Dangerous Toys. Children’s toys are frequently painted of a green color with arsenite of copper, and are consequently, highly dangerous for them to play with. ‘The best toy for a child is a box of unpainted wooden bricks, which is a cor- stant source of amusement to him. If you have your nursery walls hung wit paintings and engravings, let them be of good quality. The horrid daubs and bad engrav- ings that usually dishigure nursery walls, are enough to ruin the taste of a child, and to make him take a disgust to drawing, which would be a misfortune. A fine engraving and a good painting expand and elevate his mind. We all know that first impressions are the most vivid and the most lasting. A taste in early life for everything refined and beautiful purifies his mind, cultivates his in- tellect, keeps him from low company, and makes him grow up a gentleman ! Lucifer matches, in case of sudden illness, should, both in the nursery and in the bed- room, be always in readiness ; but they must be carefully placed out of the reach of chil- dren, us lucifer matches are a deadly poison. Many inquests have been held on children who have, from having sucked them, been poisoned by them. Have you any observation to make on the tight of a nursery ? Let the window, or what is better, the THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. 187 to thoroughly light up every nook and corner of the room, as there is nothing more conducive to the health of a child than au abundance of light in the dwelling. A roons cannot, then, be too light. ‘The windows oi a nursery are generally too small. A chilé requires as much light asa plant. Gardeners are well aware of the great importance of light in the construction of their green. houses, and yet a child, who requires it as much, and is of much greater importance, is cooped up in dark rooms! Let in Light and Sunshine. The windows of a nursery ought not only to be frequently opened to let in fresh air, but should be frequently cleaned, to let in | plenty of light and of sunshine, as nothing is so cheering and beneficial to a child as an abundance of light and sunshine! With regard to the best artificial light for a nursery.—The air of a nursery cannot be too pure; I therefore do not advise you to have gas in it, as gas in burning gives off quantities of carbonic acid and sulphuretted hydrogen, which vitiate the air. ‘The kero- sene lamp, too, makes a room very hot and close. There is no better light for a nursery than either patent candlesor the electric light. Let a child’s home be the happiest house to him in the world; und to be happy he must be merry, and all around him should be merry and cheerful; and he ought to have an abundance of playthings, to help on the merriment. If he have a dismal nurse, and a dismal home, he may as well be incarcerated in a prison, and be attended by a jailor. It is sad enough to see dismal, doleful men and women, but it is a truly lamentable and unnatural sight to see a dole- ful child! The young ought to be as play- ful and as full of innocent mischief as a kitten. There will be quite time enough in windows, of a uursery be very large, so as after years for sorrow aud sadness. oo ee ee ee re ee ae a ee a ee —ee es eee es ad el ee nia len msDee De el aie HOLLY a ona DN aL Lael ih Fra WL. oe Aiwa CHOLES Neue ek wh sca de misao ively oo Ae ah NP ed la iene Sera OS ere te See eae eee Bast i hy one Roce ene Met oe a by tere Nee Al: ee eae ae A a a EDS ei Se oF eR E SIN OIG IE PEN Pak ceAT hes 182 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE Bricht colors, plenty of light, clean win- {Ss fows (mind this, if you please), an abund- ance of good colored prints, and toys without number, are the proper furnishings of a nur- sery. Nursery! why the very name tells you what it ought to be—the home of child- hood—the most important room in the house—a toom that will greatly tend to stamp the character of your child for the re- mainder of his life. Have you any hinis to offer conducive to the well-doing of my child ? You cannot be too particular in the choice of those who are in constant attendance upon him. You yourself, the mother, of course must be his head-nurse—you on require some one to take the druc oe off yout hands! You ought to be particularly care- ful in the selection of his nurse. She should be steady, lively, truthful and good tem- pered; and must be free from any natural imperfection, such as squinting, stammering, etc., for a child is such an imitative creat- enantta ure that he is likely to acquire that defect | which in the nurse is natural. Children, like babies, are quick at “taking notice.” What they see they mark, and what they mark they are very prone to copy The Good Nurse to be very young, or she She ought not may be thoughtless, careless and giggling. You have no right to seta child to mind a child; it would be like t 1e blind leading the blind. No! a child is too precious a treas- | are to be entrusted to the care and keeping of a young girl. Many a child has been ruined for life by a careless young nurse dropping him and injuring his spine. A nurse ought to be both strong and active, in order that her little charge may have plenty of good nursing ; for it requires great strength in the arms to carry a heavy child for the space of an hour or two ata oes oes ee T ? D DOMESTIC LIFE. ek At stretch, in the open air; and such is abso tely necessary, ai d is the only way to make aud to cause him to cut his teeth t the same time to regulate his lu him strong easily, and a Ageless a nurse, therefore, must be strong and active, and not ar hard work, fos hard work it is; but, after she is accustomed to it, pleasant notw ithstanding. Ghosts and Hobgoblins. Never should a nurse be allowed to wea a mask, nor to dress up and paint herself as o child is naturally timid and fu l of fears, and what would not make the slightest impres: sion upon a grown-up person Hilt throw a hild into fis a ghost, or as any other frightful object. A ‘THe are ere ing, and the dead, Are but as pictu tis the age of childhood That fears a pai ae devil.’ ’— Shakespe are. Never should she be permitted to tell her little charge frightful stories of ghosts and hobgoblins; if this be allowed, the child’s Aisndeition a become timid and w aver and may continue so for the remainder his life. If a little fellow were not terrified by such stories, the darkness would not frighten him 1 the light. Moreover, the mind thus filled with fear, acts aati the body, and injures the health. A child must never : k cellar, nor frightened by tales of any sort. Instances are related of the intellect for wat ten aerate 4404 ear thus induced wnpair in 1 Cr i S life, or ca ising’ dé ige : 3]]necs 11e, Of causing danse rous 11iness. Jf Samar rane ; a sien ee Dog Night-terrors. — ‘This ieeabacene ol a child by a silly nurse frequently brings on night-terrors. He wakes up suddenly, soon, after going to sleep, frightened and terrified; > r imlent xy at ; nas - screaming violently, and declaring that he 4 at et oe has seen either some ghost, or thief, or some object that the ously in the ‘iis describing, who is come for 1 h $ to take him away. ‘The little fellow is lly nurse had been previ ?hides his face in his mother’s bosom, the perspiration streams down him, and it is some time before he can be pacified—when, at length, he falls into a troubled feverish slumber, to awake in the morning unre- freshed. Night after night these terrors harass him, until his health materially suf fers, and his young life becomes miserable, looking forward with dread to the approach of darkness. Lreaiment of night-terrors.—lf they have been brought on by the folly of the nurse, discharge her at once, and be careful to select a more discreet one. When the child retires to rest, leave a candle burning, and fet it burn all night; sit with him until he be asleep; and take care, in case he should rouse up in either yourseif or some kind person be near at hand. Do not scold him for being fright- ened—he cannot help it; but soothe him, calm him, fondle him, take him into your arms, and let him feel that he has some one to rest upon, to defend and to protect him. It is frequently in these cases necessary before he can be cured to let him have change of air and change of scene. Let him live, in the day time, a great part of the day in the open air. Let the Child Romp. I have seen in the winter time a lazy nurse sit befoie the fire with a child on her lap, rubbing his cold feet just before putting him tohis bed. Now, this isnot the way to warm hisfeet. -‘The right method is to let him romp and run either about the room, or the landing, or the hall—this will effectually warm them ; but, of course, it will entail a littie extra trouble on the nurse, as she will have to use a little exertion to induce him to do so, and this extra trouble a lazy nurse will not relish. THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. the very picture of terror and alarm; he | ne of his night-terrors, that 183 the little fellow chilblains, and will make him when he is in bed more chilly. ‘The only way for him to have a good romp before he goes to bed, is for the mother to join in the game. She may rest assured, that if she does so, her child will not be the only one to benefit by it. She herself will find it of marvellous benefit to her own health; it will warm her own feet, it will be almost sure to insure her a good night, and will make her feel so light and buoyant as almost to fancy that she is a girl again! Well, then, let every child, before going te bed, hold a high court of revelry, let him have an hour—the children’s hour—devoted to romp, to dance, to shout, to song, to riot, and to play, and let him be the master of the tevels— Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupation, Which is known as the Children’s Hour. Longfellew, Let a child be employed—take an interes} in his employment, let him fancy that he is useful—and he is useful, he is laying ina stock of health. He is much more usefully employed than many other grown-up chil- dren are. A child should be happy; he must, in every way be made happy; everything ought to be done to conduce to. his happiness, to give him joy, gladness, and'pleasure. Happy he should be, as happy as the day is long. Kindness should be lavished upon him, Make a child understand that you love him: prove it in your actions—these are better than words; look after his little pleasures—- join in his little sports; let him never hear a morose word—it would rankle in his breast, take deep root, and in due time bring forth bitter fruit. Love! let love be his pole-star let it be the guide and the rule of all you du Warming the feet before the fire will give and all you say unto him. Let your face, ag ad oe ee eee ee Sb teren ) «wee " er ee aa bauset ; “ awe. Le Pe ee er rr nS eae a et ee Peed ae eS) en allChi DL MOLE od De ee LL Bey eae Jake sab ecad rah mabe wad an Ye ee eh as A Cyaan a sh SE EMP eipetitetom ia a NP RS Se ee IE Aa ON al ANE BOE AA ARO RRS ah LIE aod tale H 2 —~ be : % EB f ; 384 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. well as your tongue, speak love. Let your hands be ever ready to minister to his pleas- ures and to his play. The Power of Love. Says Douglass Jerrold: “ Blessed be the hand that prepares a pleasure for a child, for there is no saying when and where it may again bloom forth. Does not almost every- body remember some kind-hearted man who showed him a kindness in the dulcet days of childhood? The writer of this recollects himself, at this moment, a bare-footed lad, standing at the wooden fence of a poor little garden in his native village, while, with long- ing eyes, he gazed on the flowers which were blooming there quietly in the brightness of the Sabbath morning. The possessor came from his little cottage. He was a wood- cutter by trade, and spent the whole week at work in the woods. He had come into the garden to gather flowers to stick in his coat when he went to church. He saw the boy, and breaking off the most beautiful of his carnations (it was streaked with red and white), he gave itto him. Neither the giver nor the receiver spoke a word, and with bounding steps the boy ran home. And now here, at a vast distance from that home, after so many events of so many years, the feeling of gratitude which agitated the breast of the boy, expressed itself on paper. The carnation has long since faded, but it now | bloometh afresh.” The hearty, ringing laugh of a child is sweet music to the ear. There are three most joyous sounds in nature—the hum of a bee, the purr of a cat, and the laugh of a child. They tell of peace, of happiness, and of contentment, and make one for a while forget that there is so much misery in the world. A man who dislikes children is unnatural ; he has no “milk of human kindness’’ in him; he should be shunned. Give me, for a friend, a man— Who takes the children on “iis knee, And winds their curls about his hand.— Zennyson. If a child be peevish, and apparently good health, have you any plan to propose te allay his trritability ? A child’s troubles are soon over—his tears are soon dried; “nothing dries sooner than a tear’”’—if not prolonged by improper man- agement— The tear down childhood’s cheek that flows Is like the dew-drop on the rose ; When next the summer breeze comes by, And waves the bush, the flower is dry.—Scodd. Never allow a child to be teased ; it spoils his temper. If he be in a cross humor take no notice of it, but divert his attention to some pleasing object. ‘This may be done without spoiling him. Do not combat bad temper with bad temper, noise with noise. 3e firm, be kind, be gentle, be loving, speak quietly, smile tenderly, and embrace him fondly, but insist upon implicit obedience, and you will have with God's blessing a happy child— “When a little child is weak From fever passing by, Or wearied out with restlessness Don’t scold him if he cry. Tell him some pretty story— Don’t read it from a book ; He likes to watch you while you speak And take in every look. ‘¢ Or sometimes singing gently— A little song may please, With quiet and amusing words, And tune that flows with ease, ‘‘Or if he is impatient, Perhaps from time to time A simple hymn may suit the best In short and easy rhyme. ‘s ‘The measured verses flowing In accents clear and mild, May blend into his troubled thought, And soothe the little child. “But let the words be simple, And suited to his mind, And loving, that his weary heart A resting-place may find.”Speak gently to a child; speak gently to all; but more especially speak gently to a child. “A gentle voice is an excellent thing ina woman,” and is a jewel of great price, and is one of the concomitants of a perfect lady. Let the hinges of your disposition be well oiled. Would to heaven there were more of them! How many there are who never turn upon the hinges of this world without a grinding that sets the teeth of a whole household on edge! And somehow or other it has been the evil fate of many of the best spirits to be so circumstanced. To these especially the creakings of those said rough hinges of the world is one continued torture, for they are all too finely strung; and the oft-recurring grind jars the whole sentient frame, mars the beautiful lyre, and makes cruel discord in a soui of music. How much of sadness there is in such thoughts! Seems there not a Past in some lives, to which it is impossible ever to becomnie rec- nciled ? Let Your Words be Pleasant. Pleasant words ought always to be spoken to a child; there must be neither snarling, nor snapping, nor snubbing, nor loud con- tention towards him. If there be it will ruin his temper and disposition, and will make him hard and harsh, morose and dis- agreeable. Do not always be telling your child how wicked he is; what a naughty boy he 1s; that God will never love him, and all the test of such twaddle and blatant inanity! Do not, in point of fact, bully him, as many poor little fellows are bullied! It will ruin him if you do; it will make him in after years either a coward or a tyrant. Such conversations, like constant droppings of water, will make an impression, and will cause him to feel that it is of no use to try te be good—that he is hopelessly wicked! THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. 185 Instead of such language, give him confi dence in himself; rather find out his good points and dwell upon them; praise him where and whenever you can; and make him feel that, by perseverance and by God's blessing, he will make a good man. Speak truthfully to your child; if you once deceive him, he will not believe you for the future Not only so, but if you are truthful yourself, you are likely to make him truthful—like begets like. There is something beautiful in truth! A lying child is an abomination! Sir Walter Scott says “that he taught his son to ride, to shoot, and to tell the truth.” Archdeacon Hare asserts “that Purity is the feminine, Truth the masculine of Honor.” As soon as a child can speak he should be made to lisp the noble words of truth, and to love it, and to abhor alie! What a beau- tiful character he will then make! Blessed is the child that can say-— ** Parental cares watched o’er my growing youth, And early stamped it with the love of truth.” Have no favorites, show no partiality; for the young are very jealous, sharp-sighted, and quick-witted, and take a dislike to the petted one. Do not rouse the old Adam in them. Let children be taught to be “kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love;”’ let them be encouraged to share each other’s toys and play-things, and to banish selfishness. Attend to a child’s little pleasures. It is the little pleasures of a child that constitute his happiness. Great pleasures to him and to us all (as a favorite author remarks) com. but seldom, and are the exceptions, and not the rule. Let a child be nurtured in love. “It will be seen,” says the author of John Hahfax, “that I hold this law of kindness as the Alpha and Omega of education. I once asked one, in -his own house, a father in ald yo ee ee er ee a Nee eee ee ee een nnd ae SSS ee ‘ewe ential wee. re es el aaa, ; x < Por ees eh hy eee ea al abet 1 ath ig np ae a ame he Te Ar ela eid Fae a nt maar aaa cn wh LEP tk a fag Ss a hab ee ee ee ra eae AYA PIC a oats ra a has eat Pa | F | . : 186 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. everything but the name, his authority un- auestioned, his least word held in reverence, his smallest wish obeyed—‘ How did you ever manage to bring up these children? He said, ‘ By love.’” Old Children, Tet every word and action prove that you love your children. Enter into all their little pursuits and pleasures. Join them in their play, and be a “‘child again!” If they are curious, do not check their curiosity ; but rather encourage it; for they have a ereat deal—as we all have—to learn, and how can they know if they are not taught? You may depend upon it the knowledge they obtain from observation is far superior to that obtained from books. Let all you teach them, let all you do, aru let all you say bear the stamp of love A placid, well-regulated temper is very conducive to health. A disordered or an overloaded stomach, is a frequent cause of peevishness. Appropriate treatment in such a case will, of course, be necessary. My child stammers: can you tell me thé cause, and can you suggest a remedy ? A child who stammers is generally “ner- yous,” quick, andimpulsive. His ideas flow too rapidly for speech. He is “nervous;” hence, when he is eae and with those he loves, he oftentimes speaks fluently and well ; e stammers more ont whea he 1s tired and when he isout of health—when the nerves are either weak or exhausted. He is emo- tional: when he is either in a passion or in excitement, either of joy or of grief, he can scarcely speak—‘‘he stammersall over.” He is impulsive: he often stammers in conse- quence. He is in too great a hurry to bring out his Eds they do not flow in proper sequence: hence his words are broken and disjointed. Stammering, of course, might be owing | either to some organic defect, such as from defective palate, or from defective brain, then nothing will cure him; orit et be owing to ‘*nervous’’ catises to “irregular nervous action,” then a cure might, wich care and perseverance, be usually effected. In all cases of stammering of a child, let both the palate of his mouth and the bridle of his tongue be carefully examined, to see that neither the palate be defective, nor the bridle of the tongue be too short—that he be not tongue-tied. How to Cure Stammering. Now with regard to Treatment.—Make him speak slowly and deliberately; let him each word, without clipping or chop: ping; let him be made, when you are alone wit in him, to exercise himself in elocution. If he speak quickly, stop him in his mid: career, and make him, quietly and deliber- ately, go through the sentence again and difficulty teach him to collect his t Sanuahia and to again, until he has mastered the weigh each word ere he give it utterance; practice him in singing little hymns and songs for children; this you will find a value able help in the cure. A stammerer seldom stutters when: he sings. When he sings, he has a full knowledge of the words, and is bliged to keep in time—to sing neither too fast nor too slow. Besides, he sings in a dif ferent key to his speaking voice. Many proe aplgen an - : a i 2 fessors for the treatment of stammering cure thas ® ¢ 1a . T “\T"< ~ : 4 . —~Ctct . their patients by practicing lessons of a sing- song character. Never ee him for stammering, nor turn him to ridicule; if you do, it will make him ten times worse; but patient and gentle with him, and endeavor to give him confi- dence, and encourage him to speak to you as quietly, as gently and deliberately as you Anak speak to him; tell him uot te speak until heTHE ALY-IMPORTANT NURSERY. as arranged bis thoughts and chosen his | wards ; 5 Tet him do nothing in a hurry. Demosthenes was said, in his youth, to have atammered fearfully, and to have sited oy seli by his own prescription, namely, by uatting a pebble in his mouth, and nee xg, frequently, slowly, quietly, and deliber- tely, on the sea-shore—the fishes alone being iis audience—until at lengtl he cured him- self, and charmed the world with his eloquence and with hiselocution. He is held up, to this wery day, as the personifica mocel of an orator. His patience, persever- ance, and practice ought, by all who either are staimmerers, or are intereste o¢ borne in mind and followed. eso RE} Ox *) wor ee A) = ation and as the tier i iet ed im them, to Piain Da you approve of a carpet im a nursery ? 3 No; unless it be a smail piece for a child forollupon. A carpet harbors dirt and dust, which dust is constantly hoating about Aes atmosphere, and thus ing it him to breathe. ‘The truth of this 1 easily ascertained by entering a seca room, where a ray of sunshine is struggling through a crevice in floor of a nursery must be vet be laid down; ae this may every morn- ing be taken upa | i os ot ‘1 vos - ture a pursery ae the better; for much | furniture obstructs the free circulation of the Geen Irom mir and, moreover, pos a child faking proper play and se j an abundance of which are absolutely 4 7 ty en > q et necessary for his heaitn. Do you appr youve, during the summer seonths, of sending a child out before break- fast ? I do, when the weather will permit, and provided the wind be ae in an easterly sor in a northeasterly directiou , indeed, he 4% net K Et e s Se ee eae ark tos PETZ san scarcely be too m auch 3 am ule open { i | putt ttin | Own Wi wanes 187 Fie must not be allowed {o stand about ix draughts or about entries, and the only way to prevent him doing so is for the mothe: et a Some the nurse. She wil v, as she will, O, ce te et OW as eel as her Oughta alfe ? child to be early pus on has feet No; let him learn to walk Loe Hs ce t to be put upon a carpet und that when he is stro “hold | by a chair, and will stand alone: an do so, and attempts to walk, he Ie then besupported. You must, on first n upon his feet, be guided by his He will, as soon as he is strong enough to walk, lave the inclination to de so. When he has the inclination and the strength it will be folly to restrain him; i he have neither the inclination nor the streneth, it will be absurd to urge him on. Rely, therefore, to a certain extent, upon the inclina’‘on of the child himself, Self-reliane “€ cannot ve too early taught him, and, indeed, every one else. en Monet he ? Creocked Legs. in the generality of instances, however, a child is put on his feet too soon, and thei bones, at that tender age, sbeing very flexibles bend, causing bowed and bandy-legs ; and the ta 2 knees, peing w eak, approx ce too closely | together, and thus they become knock-kneed This a advice of not pullius a child early on his feet, I must strongly insist on, as many mothers are so ridiculously ambitious tha walk seal dee their young ones should other children of “have attempted—that they should ae befor theig acquaintanc y caused the above they have co 1en i | lamentable deform ek Cy, ® % ES es Ys, ® RS. ing, We ‘ a in > Oxia c coed = oe = FA wae ek Supposing i to be wei * ad ee es ee ee eS mea ee Pare ee a ae to het. ee a aS ee ee ee lialsgn EMMY ES TO a Re SAAS ue aaa 7 ipo nj er ee 5 3 Meeiiteaataeek UAL ES PN AD) er ia tae ee AAS OOS iain a RRC OE RR LARS LIA ES lO od 7 3 * RR #3 ’ a ey & P| $ £ rs A @. , FE 188 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. above, do you then approve of sending a child out ? If the wind be neither in the east nor the north-east, and if the air be not damp, fet him be well wrapped up and be sent out. If he be laboring under an inflammation of the lungs, however slight, or if he be just recovering from one, it would, of course, be highly improper. In the management of a child, we must take care neither to coddle nor to expose him unnecessarily, as both are dangerous. Never send a child out to walk in a fog; he will, if you do, be almost sure to catch cold. It would be much safer to send him out in rain than in a fog, though neither the one nor the other would be desirable. Keep the Blood Circulating. AD nae How many times a day i fine weaiier gught a child to be sent out? Let him be sent out as often as it be pos gible. If a child lived more in the open air than he is wont to do, he would neither be so susceptible to disease, nor would he suffer so much from teething, nor from catching cold. Supposing the day to be wet, what exercise would you then recommend ? The child ought to run either about a large room, or about the hall; and if it does sot rain violently, you should put on his hat and throw up the window, taking care while the window is open that he does not stand still. A wet day is the day for him to hold his high court of revelry, and “to make “im as happy as the day is long.” Do not on any account allow him to sit any length of time at a table, amusing him- self with books; let him be active and stir- ring, that his blood may freely circulate as it ought to do, and that his muscles may be well developed. I would rather see him actively engaged in mischief than sitting still, doing nothing! He ought to be pug on the floor, and should then be tumbled and rolled about, to make the blood bound merrily through the vessels, to stir up the liver, to promote digestion, and to open the bowels. ‘he misfortune of it is, the pres ent race of nurses are so encumbered with long dresses, and so screwed in with tight stays (aping their betters), that they are not able to stoop properly, and thus to havea good game of romps with their little charges “Doing nothing is doing ill,” is as trueg saying as was ever spoken. Supposing it to be winter, and the weather very cold, would you stil send a child out? Decidedly, provided he be well wrapped up. The cold will brace and strengthes him. Cold weather is the finest tonic if | the world To Prevent Falling. In trosty weather, the roads being slippery, when you send him out to walk, puta pal of large old woolen stockings over his hoots or shoes. ‘This will not’ only keep his feet and his legs warm, but it will prevent him from falling down and hurting himself A child, in the winter time, requires, to keep him warm, plenty of flannel and plenty of food, plenty of fresh aud genuine milk and plenty of water in his tub to wash and bathe him in the morning, plenty of exercisé and plenty of play, and then he may brave the frosty air. It is the coddled, the half washed, and the half-starved child (half washed and half-starved from either the mother’s ignorance or from the mother’s timidity), that is the chilly starveling— catching cold at every breath of wind, and every time he either walks or is carried out —a puny, skinny, scraggy, scare-crow, moré dead than alive, and more fit for his graveihan for the rough world he will have to struggle in! If the above advice be strictly followed, a child may be sent out in the coldest weather, even— When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nait; And Tom bears logs into the hall, ~ And milk comes frozen home in pail. Shakespeare. Amusements for Children. Have you any remarks to make on the umusements of a child ? Let the amusements of a child be as much as possible out of doors; let him spend the greater part of every day in the openair; let him exert himself as much as he please, his feelings will tell him when to rest and when to begin again ; let him be what Nature in- tended him to be—a happy, laughing, joyous child. Do not let him be always poring | over books: Books! ’ tis a dull and endless strife, Come, hear the woodland linnet |. How sweet his music! On my life, There’s more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings ! He, too, is no mean preacher ; Come forth into the light of things,~ Let Nature be your teacher. She has a world of ready wealth, Our minds and hearts to bless,— Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, Truth breathed by cheerfulness. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.— Wordsworth. He ought to be encouraged to engage in those sports wherein the greatest number of muscles are brought into play. For instance, to play at ball, or hoop, or football, to play at horses, to run to certain distances and back ; end, if a girl, to amuse herself with a skip- ging rope, such being excellent exercise By sports like these are all their cares beguiled, — The sports of children satisfy the child.— Goldsmith. Every child, where it be practicable, should have a small plot of ground to cultivate, that THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. 189 he may dig and deive in, and make dirt pies if he choose. Children now-a-days, unfor- tunately, are not allowed to soil their hands and their fine clothes. For my own part, f dislike such model children ; let a child be natural—let him, as far as is possible, choose his own sports. Do not be always interfer: ing with his pursuits, and be finding fault with him. Remember, what may be amus: ing to you may be distasteful to him. I de not, of course, mean but that you should constantly have a watchful eye over him ; yet do not let him see that he is under restraint or surveillance; if you do you will nevez discover his true character and inclinations. Not only so, but do not dim the bright sun. shine of his early life by constantly checking and thwarting him. ‘Tupper beautifully says— And check not 4 childin his merriment— Should not his morning be sunny ? When, therefore, he is either in the nursery or in the play-ground, let him shout and riot and romp about as much as he please. His lungs and his muscles want developing, and his nerves require strengthening; and how can such be accomplished unless you allow ‘them to be developed and strengthened by | natural means? The nursery is a child’s own domain ; it is his castle, and he should be Lord Paramvunt ' therein. If he choose to blow a whistle, or | to spring a rattle, or to make any other hideous noise, which to him is sweet music, he should be allowed, without let or hin. drance, to do so, If any members of the family have weak nerves, iet them keep at @ respectful distance. Good Little Idiots. A child who never gets into mischief must be either sly, or delicate, or idiotic; indeed, the system of many persons, in bringing up children, is likely to make them either the ad a ee » ne ees oS a ae ae Pe ee Pe ee nO a ae a od ee ert . es nl aePl per tater LLY Day aes aa TON Taal a Year a oe RL ene ce: CHO ESS Ne aie ek oh recede mbm hava? rm petite Be ge 9 NNN it iat eR nat aA a ae a IAL Si llega hl Se ceca eee cen hag is react sie ie PSS ARCO, 19 PADD Salcedo allan ca PS I oe, eR OS aa pera } | vZ P| f % igO COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. me or the other. The present plan of train- ‘ng children is nearly all work (books), and very little play. Play, and plenty of it, 1s necessary to the very existence of a child. A boy not partial to mischief, innocent snischief, and play, is unnatural; he is a man before his time, he is a nuisance, he is dis- agreeable to himself and to every one around. He is generally a sneak and a little humbug. Female Simpletons. Girls at the present time, are made Clever émpletons; their brains are worked with useless knowledge, which totally unfits them for every-day duties. ‘Their muscles are al- lowed to be idle, which makes them limp and flabby. ‘The want of proper exercise Se Sr ruins the complexion, and their faces become | of the color of a tallow candle! And precious wives and mothers they make when they do grow up! What an unnatural thing it is to confine a child several hours a day to his lessons ; why you might as well put a colt in harness, and make him work for his living! A child is inade for play ; his roguish little eye, his little figure, his antics, and his drollery, all point out that he is cut out for play—that it is as necessary to his existence as the food he eats, eos Ree oe and as the air he breathes! His lessens | struct. A child oucht not to be allowed to have ; ‘ ; © . i not let me be misunderstood: there is not playthings with which he can injure either himself or others, such as toy-swords, toy cannons, toy-paint-boxes, knives, bows and arrows, hammers, chisels, saws, etc. He will not only be likely to injure himselfand others, but will make sad havoc on furniture, house, and other property. Fun, frolic, and play ought, in all innocent ways to be en souraged ; but wilful mischief and danger: i \ ous games ought, by every means, to be dis- countenanced. This advice is frequently much needed, as children prefer to have ang delight in dangerous toys, and often coax and persuade weak and indulgent mothezs to gratify their wishes. Parents often make Sunday a day o gloom: to this I much object. Of al’ the days in the week, Sunday should be the most | cheerful and pleasant. It is considered by the Church a festival; and a glorious festival it ought to be made, and one on which our Heavenly Father wishes to see all His children happy and full of innocent joy! Let Sunday, then, be made a cheerful, joyous, innocently happy day, and not, as it frequent- ly is, the most miserable and dismal in the week. Itismy firm conviction that many men have been made irreligious by the ridic-~ wlously strict and dismal way they wete compelled, as children, to spend their Sun- days. You can no more make a child re- ligious by gloomy asceticism, than you can make people good by Act of Congress. Criminal Folly. One of the great follies of the present age | is children’s parties, where they are allowed te be dressed up like grown-up women, stuck out in petticoats, and encouraged to eat rich cake and pastry, and to drink wine, and ts ; . |sit up late at night! There is something should be such as will amuse while they in- | E & S disgusting and demoralizing in all this, Their pure minds are blighted by it. Do the least objection, but, on the contrary, great advantage, for friends’ children to meet friends’ children ; but then let them be treated as children, and not as men and women! Do you approve of publu play-grounds | for children ? it would be well, in every village, and i | the outskirts of every town, if a large plot af ground were set apart for children to play iand to go through regular gymnastic exer- cises. Play is absolutely necessary to a child’s very existence, as much as food and sleep. Play-grounds and play are the best schools we have ; they teach a great deal not taught elsewhere; they give lessons in health, which is the grandest wealth that can be bestowed—“ for health is wealth:” they prepare the soil for the future schoolmaster ; they clear the brain, and thus the intellect ; they strengthen the muscles; they make the blood course merrily through the arteries; they bestow healthy food for the lungs ; they give an appetite; they make a child, in due time, become every inch a man! Play- grounds and play are one of the finest institu- tions we possess. What would our large public schools be without their play and ball grounds? ‘They would be shorn of half their splendor and their usefuiness ! There is so much talk now-a-days about useful knowledge, that the importance of play and play-grounds is likely to be forgot- ten. I cannot help thinking, however, that a better state of things is dawning. Itseems to be found out that in our zeal for useful knowledge, that knowledge is found to be not the least useful which treats boys as active, stirring, aspiring, and ready. Mistakes of Education. Do you approve of infant schools? I do, if the arrangements be such that health is preferred before learning. Let children be only confined for three or four hours a day, and ‘et what little they learn be taught as an at usement rather than as a labor. A play-ground ought to be attached to an infant school; where, in fine weather, for every half-hour they spend in-doors, they. should spend one in the open air; and, in wet weather, they ought to have, in lieu of the play-ground, a large room to romp, and shout, and riot in. ‘To develop the different THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. rot organs, muscles, and other parts of the body children require fresh air, a free use of thei lungs, active exercise, and their bodies to be thrown into all manner of attitudes. Let 2 child mope in a corner, and he will become stupid and sickly. ‘The march of intellect, as it is called, or rather the double quick marct: of intellect, as it should be called, has stole. a match upon health. Only allow the march vf intellect and the march of health to take equal strides, and then we shall have “ meus sana i corpore sano” (a sound mind in 2 sound body). In the education of a young child it is better to instruct him by illustration, by pic- tures, and by encouraging observation on things around and about him, than by books, It is surprising how much, without endangering his health, may be taught is this way. Over Education. Children at the present day are too high.) educated—their brains are over-taxed, and thus weakened. ‘The consequence is, that as they grow up to manhood, if they grow up at all, they become fools! Screw not the cord too sharply, lest it snap, Tennyson. You should treat a child as you would 2 young colt. Think only at first of strength- ening his body. Let him have a perfectly free, happv life, plenty of food to eat, abund- ance of air to breathe, and no work to do; there is plenty of time to think of his learn- ing—of giving him brain work. It will come sadly too soon; but do not make him old before his time. At what age do you advise my child te begin his course of education—to have his regular lessons ? In the name of the prophet—Figs! Fid. ' dlesticks! about courses of education ard aad ee ee oa a Pe ee se ee% s < 2 3 A is 2 Ps ae a .& E b . & * 4 « F el & ps & Se dd ae ee ST ak ex Pd Pied coach Atha NS i Oe ee eee NS Sa i LS aL lO ae SS ORS WSSHCN LT RTM AR oc ane Se EMG A OE SLIT NE OAR EE LEE ES - § COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. regular iessons for a child! You may as well ask me when he, a child, is to begin Hebrew, the Sanscrit, and Mathematics! Let him nave a course of education in play; let him go through regular lessons in font-ball, bandy, playing at hares and hounds, and such like excellent and really useful and health-giving lessons. Begin his lessons! Begin brain work, aud make an idiot of him! Oh! for shame, ye mothers! You who pretend to love your children so much, and to tax, otherwise to injure, irreparably to injure their brains, and thus their intellects and their health, avd to shorten their very days. And all for what? To make prodigies of them! Forsooth! to make fools of them in the er. Well, then, as you have such a gveat objec- tion to a child commencing his education early én life, at whai age may he, with safety, come mence his lessons ? Remember, as above stated, the brain must have but very little work until the child be seven years old: impress this advice upon your memory, and let no foolish ambi- tion to make your child a clever child allow you, for one moment, to swerve from this advice. Build up a strong, healthy body, and in due time the brain will bear a moderate amount of intellectual labor. Let me advise you, Mr. Paterfamilias, to be careful how you converse, what language you use, whilein the company of your child. Bear in mind, a child is very observant, and thinks much, weighs well, and seldom forgets all you say and all you do! Let no hasty word, then, and more especially no oath, or no impious language, ever pass your lips, if your child be within hearing. It is, of course, at all times wicked to swear; but it is heinousiy and unpardonably sinful to swear in the presence of your child! “ Childhood is like a mirror, catching and reflecting images. One impious or profane thought, uttered by a parent's lip, may operate upon the young heart like a careless spray of water thrown upon polished steel, staining it with rust, which no after-scouring can efface. ” Never talk secrets before a child—“little pitchers have long ears; ” if you do, and he disclose your secrets—as most likely he will —-and thus make mischief, it will be cruel to scold him; you will, for your imprudence, have only yourself to blame. Be most care: ful, then, in the presence of your child, of what you say, and of whom you speak. | This advice, if followed, might save a great | deal of annoyance and vexation. Are you an advocate for a child being . ts , Q taught singing £ Iam: I consider singing a part of his education. Singing expands the walls of his chest, strengthens and invigorates his lungs, gives sweetness to his voice, improves his pronunciation, and is a great pleasure and amusement to him. Importance of Sleep. Do you recommend a child, in the middle of the day, to be put to sleep? Let him be put on his mattress awake, that he may sicep for a couple of hours before dinner, then he will rise both refreshed and strengthened for the remainder of the day. I said, let him be put down awake. He might, for the first few times, cry, but, by perseverance, he will without any difficulty fall tosleep. ‘The practice of sleeping before dinner ought to be continued until he be three years old, and, if he can be prevailed upon, even longer. For if he do not have sleep in the middle of the day, he will all the afternoon and the evening be cross; and when he does go to bed, he will probably betao tired to sleep, or his nerves having been exhausted by the long wakefulness, he will fall into a troubled, broken slumber, and not into the sweet, soft, gentle repose, so charac- teristic of healthy, happy childhood. At what hour ought a child to be put to bed in the evening ? At six in the winter, and at seven o’clock in the summer. Regularity ought to be observed, as regularity is very conducive to health. It is a reprehensible practice to keep a child up until nine or ten o’clock at night. If this be done, he will, before his time, become old, ard the seeds of disease will be sown. How Ought a Child’s Feet 1» be Clothed ? He ought, during the winter, to wear lamb’s wool stockings that will reach above the knees, and ¢hzck calico drawers that will reach a few inches delow the knees; as it is of the utmost importance tu keep the lower extremities comfortably warm. It is really painful to see how many mothers expose the bare legs of their little ones to the frosty air, even in the depths of winter. Be sure and see that the boots and shoes of your child be sound and whole; for if they be not so, they will let in the damp, and if the damp, disease and perhaps death. If the poor would take better care of their children’s feet, half the infantile mortality would disappear. It only costs a few cents to put a piece of thick felt or cork into the pottom of a boot or shoe, and the difference is often between that and a doctor’s bill, with, perhaps, the undertaker’s besides. Garters ought not to be worn, as they im- pede the circulation, waste the muscles, and interfere with walking. ‘The stocking may be secured in its place by means of a loop and tape, fastened to a part of the dress. Let me urge upon you the importance of THE ALL-IMPORTANT NURSERY. "63 they cripple the feet, causing the joints of the toes, which ought to have free play, and which should assist in walking, to be, in a manner useless; they produce corns and bunions, and interfere with the proper cir- culation of the foot. A shoe ought to be made according to the shape of the foot— tights and lefts are therefore desirable. ‘The toe-part of the shoe must be made broad, sa as to allow plenty of room for the toes to ex: pand, and that one toe cannot overlap another. Be sure, then, that there be no pinching and no pressure. A shoe for a child ought to be made with a natrow strap over the instep, and with button and button hole; if it be not made in this way, the shoe will not keep on the foot. It is a grievous state of things, that in the nineteenth century there are but few shoe- nakers who know how to make a shoef The shoe is made not to fit a real foot, but a fashionable imaginary one! ‘The poor un- fortunate toes are in consequence screwed up as in a vise! Let me strongly urge you to be particular that the sock, or stocking, fits nicely—that it is neither too small nor too large; if it be too small, it binds up the toes unmerci- fully, and makes one toe to ride over the other, and thus renders the toes perfectly use- less in walking; if it be too large, it is necessary to lap a portion of the sock, or stocking, either under or over the toes, which thus presses unduly upon them, and gives pain and annoyance. After weaning, a child’s diet should con- sist at first principally of milk, and only by degrees should custards and gruels be added until solid food is given. Meat broth in which a raw egg has been beaten up may be followed by oatmeal gruel, barley water zot allowing your child to wear 72g shoes ; 13 mixed with milk, later ou by rice, sago, of Lees ee) ad a ee ‘ - ee Se c ~ am ee Pap Ne Pe A ee ‘ eee ——s a el - | . S “ Pr a a ela Ba nto! iainMas wh Ee gl spear ign WERE ey ie ea mala) elena re ree kee en ea Bak i SO ta ee ALAA EL AIS PISS aaah EC _ Fe oe tn as EES aR NE GR OTR ERIN LIN in on ee ee i94 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. farina cooked in milk, and at last by finely out meat and bread or crackers. “The child must learn never to drink its milk rapidly. The daily quantum of meat, preferably beef, lamb, or poultry, may be increased to three or four ounces, to be given in two meals.” Spiced foods or drinks, coffee, tea, wine, beer, and sharp condiments, are to be avoided. When recovering from exhausting disease rich wines or malt extracts are allowable, but they are to be prescribed only by the physician. Potatoes, in whatever form, are to be given very sparingly, ana so too is black bread. It is a very bad practice for parents to give their little ones a portion of everything that comes upon the table. Itis much better to give the children their meals before dinner or supper time, and not to let them sit at the table at all. Toward the end of the third or at the be- ginning of the fourth year of its life a child should be taught to accustom itself te cold air and to somewhat cooler water. It is not well, however, to force the hardening of children in this respect. Many children have an antipathy to cold, and often it affects dis- astrously the brain or lungs. Cleanliness should be inculcated in every respect, as to dresses and underwear, eating and drinking, and ali other requirements. But we must not be too rigid and exacting in this respect. ‘The child’s play and its freedom of movement in the open air should not be allowed to be hampered. ‘This brings to mind the story related of Emperor Joseph IL, of Austria, who, when a boy, was asked oy his governor what present he would most like upon his birthday. “Only let me play once the way those children are allowed to lay,” he answered, and pointed to a num- ger of children digging in a large heap of sane The dresses should be short and shoud not fit tightly, the head and neck should be left entirely free, and only against the sun, cold and wind should protection be given. Mental training ought continually to be regarded, and it should be consistent, dispas: sionate, and severe, but at the same time love ing words should show the child that all is meant for its own good. A great blessing, especially to parents who have little time te spare, ate kindergartens after the method of Froebel. During their school years children require an abundance of good, substantial food. No ecffee or tea is necessary: milk and cocoa are much more heathful. Some parents are accustomed to forbid the use of salt, of dishes which contain much fat, and the free con- sumption of drinking-water. ‘This must not be overdone, since the human body re- quires a considerable supply of both salt and water. In boarding-schools and other institutions the children should be dressed alike, the quality of the goods as well as the cut and color of wearing apparel being exactly simi- lar, in order to prevent ill-feeling upon the one side or assumption upon the other. Many of the styles worn by children at pres- ent actually encourage the passion for dress and finery, especially in girls, and show that parents do not love their children as they should. Mothers with common sense always strive to promote a taste for simplicity, which alone is really aristocratic, and thereby te prevent their daughters from holding as their sole object in life the ridiculous and unnat- ural passion for expensive dress, jewelry, and display, which constitutes the sole ambition of so many women. Extravagant dress is seldom accompanied with neatness and taste, without which all dress is as abomination.CHAPTER XVII. Home Occupations for Leisure Hours. HERE has been a revival of taste in cominon things, and we care much more than our grandparents did sbout surrounding ourselves with beauty. The struggle of life was harder for them, aud they had not time, as we have, for adorning tables and chairs, arranging corners so that they are artistic and not hideous, and making windows and walls rich with color and fair with softly falling drapery. Embroidery. Among the most popular home occupa- tions for ladies at the present day, we may name embroidery. ‘The loom and the spin- ning-wheel, in one simple form or another, are as old as history, and our devotion to the embroidery frame is only a return to the work which medizeval ladies found delight- ful. True, few of them could read or write, and so the needle was their only form of ex- pression, while all doors are open tous. But, though not shut up to embroidery, it is pleasant work for a group of merry girls or thoughtful women. To speak of materials, the most expensive are silk, velvet, tissue, gold and silver civth, velveteen, and plush. Among cheaper ma- terials which are available in household art, are linens of various degrees of fineness, crash, sateen, Bolton, sheeting, serge, and canton flannel. anu then think how even such a room may bloom in brightness when a fair magician has touched it with her needle. Beholdi Creamy curtains drape the windows, a lam- brequin covers the frozen mantel, the tables are hidden under cloths which make each ¢ warm and glowing spot to attract the eye, and a screen cuts off the angles, while the room seems to invite you in to rest and be refreshed. Every lady who gives her mind to it whether greatly skilled or not, can improve a dull and dingy room by a few judicious alterations, and every young girl may, if she choose, learn to embroider at odd moments, and little by little transform her abode from ugliness to beauty. Crewels are used for working on linen, serge and flannel. ‘Tapestry wool is much thicker than crewel and is useful on coarse fabrics. Embroidery silk is preferred for silk, satin, or fine materials. In working with crewels, cut your threads into short lengths. It is difficult to use too long a | thread without puckering up the work. Plush, which is the most elegant and effective material for banners, draperies, and covers, is very costly. A good quality is worth $4.50 a yard. Woolen plush isa little less than silk, but is alsoexpensive. Canton flannel which comes in double width, and Imagine the old funereal parlor with ghostly windows, hung with white shades, a marble mantel deathly white, a marble- topped table with a few ambrotypes and animals in red and gilt on its chilly surface, finished alike on both sides, in all the rich and desirable colors, can be bought for ninety cents a yard. Felting, which is thick and stubborn, though useful for some purposes, costs $1.50 —_ Pg ey SO et Po et 1 en meee Ret a a Ce A: eke we aS My a ae BN ‘ : Str” a ee ae Soe ee ee eer eS a er ee aa ' Rr cs Seem ~ 7 PN . * Fi a ake Oe aa elie why ee WO renee ee aa SN ta oe al A ae lead Se aeEa ee ek ence cual ee St ae oa, Ore Sills Cae Pars ata eh LT nS eT ae = ; A eee ee En MI PRA PET Nas ag a a a ED POLE ee ee eae y SM Sede Pris eR a oo Ppa pe re nt ee 3266 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. @ yard, and is two yards wide. Velveteen | gan be had from $1.00 a yard and upward. Velvets and satins cost anywhere from $3.00 to $6.00, and satin brocatelle is $10.00 a yard. SrrTCHES.—Stem-stitch is very simple. It js just a single long stitch forward, and a short one backward, and then another long stitch a little in advance of the first. In workiug outlines, great care must be taken to keep precisely the line ofthe pattern, and to keep the thread to the left of the needle. Some knowledge of drawing is necessary to a good embroiderer. Leaves and flowers or conventional designs, should be nicely drawn ox stamped before beginning to work, thoug f sometimes a lady is so deft with her needle that she can compose her pattern as she goes on. The stem-stitch may be longer or | shorter according to fancy, but it must be even. Split-stitch is a variety of stem-stitch, but in bringing the needle up throu oh the mate- rial, it is passed through the embroidery silk or crewel. Satin-stitch is the same on both sides. The needle must be taken back each time to the point from which it started. Rope-stitch is a twisted chain-stitch; blanket-stitch is the ordinary buttonholesti and feather-stitch is a in a light airy way, to suit the convenience tch less closely worked, broken stitch, worked of the seamstress. Drawn-work consists in drawing out the threads of linen, and working designs, or Alling in the sort of lace foundation thus made with whatever stitch the lady pleases. This is very lovely for tidies, and for the bordering of pillow-shams spreads, and curtains. The embroideret needs a smooth thimble, as a sharp one catches in her silk, a very sharp and pointed pair of scissors, and a set gf needles of different sizes, } i The best crewels will not be injured by 4 careful laundress. Covers of linen or sheet: ing, should be dipped in water in which bran has been boiled. Never use soda, soap, 01 washing-powders for your pretty things. De not wring them, but rinse with care, hang up to dry, and when almost dry stretch care fully on a flat surface and fasten with pins you may thus safely clean all cheap embro’ dered work. Very costly articles, whet soiled, which need not be the case in years of use, should be taken to a cleaner. Applique work is simply transferred work. Cut out pretty figures from damask or cre: tonne, or the best parts of old and wern embroideries, and fasten them securely on 3 foundation of lace, linen or silk. Pretty Things which may be Embroidered. To leave curtains, lambrequins, screetls, ad panels, which are larger yndertakings than some busy women have time for, cush- jons and chair-backs may be made in great variety. Sofa cushions are always desirable as gifts. A long marrow cushion for the back of an invalid’s chair, ora neck-rest fot a rocker, covers of cool gray linen to be slipped over a chair that has lost its freshness, eovers of all kinds, little round mats for the table, scarfshaped pieces to brighten the centre of a dinner-table, portfolios and letter: cases, slippers, neck ribbous, and dainty sewing and knitting-aprons, with pockets to hold a bit of work and a thimble, and the needles in their sheath, are among the articles clever girls can have on hand. Tissue Paper. Cut a piece of paper the size yon wish your mat to be, including the fringe. ‘The mat is prettiest made of two contrasting colors, and you need two whole sheets cut into eight square pieces. Take the sixteen pieces and fold each oneHOME OCCUPATIONS overt about three-quarters of an inch wide. After all are folded, braid or weave them to- gether, half one way and half another, to form a square. Sew the outside pieces as far as the centre of your mat, then cut the fringe as deep as you wish it, and dampen it by pressing on it a wet cloth. Shake it very gently until it isdry. ‘The fringe will curl up and be very pretty. Tissue paper flowers are made by cutting the petals as much like real flowers as possi- ble, and fastening them by stems of flexible wite. ‘This is nice work for little fingers. Crochet. The little crochet hook is very old. Its charm is that with so small a tool so many beautiful things may be produced. From a counterpane to acollar, almost anything may be made with the crochet needle. Babies’ afehans and sofa quilts for convalescents are often crocheted. ‘There are few occupations more fascinating than this. Knitting. The delight of knitting is its sociability. One must give her close attention to her em- broidery, but the lady who knits may talk at the same time, aud be witty or wise as she pleases. What pictures rise in our mind’s eye of dear old ladies knitting by the fire, their silvery needles flashing and their thoughts busy with the past. Shawls for breakfast or evening wear are both knitted and crocheted. S Among our most dearly- prized treasures is a sofa-quilt, knitted in broad stripes, each like a gay Roman ribbon, and crocheted together in black and gold, with deep fringe knotted in the edge, the work of a lady who has counted her seventy-six years, and reached life’s evening leisure. Patch-Work. Let no one despise this homely art. It is FOR LEISURE HOURS, i97 a really elegant patch-work quilt. sf yor have pretty patterns or can procure them, save them carefully, for sooner or later you will meet some elderly woman who keeps a4 quilt on hand, and fills up her “ betweenities” by combining tints and matching pieces with poetic harmony. Hlegant Drawn Work. Since much of the popular fancy-work of to-day consists of what is genetally known as drawn work, we will devote some space toa description cy the various stitches aad designs used in that form of ornamentation No. 1.—To Hemstitch a Doity. for the home. We will commence at the. beginning with the simple hemstitch, ané thence proceed with the more difficult de signs. Draw six threads one inch and an eightt, from the edge, on all its four sides, and bast: the hem so that it will be a half-inch wide, Beginning at the left side of doily, fasten th: thread. Be sure the knot is out of sight Place the needle in under five or six threads from right to left, draw it through and take an ordinary hemming stitch at the right oi the threads, as in illustration No 1. A practiced eye will not need to count the 8p accomplishment worth boasting of tomake | number of threads. “ ORO ace SURE RACED Me RT es SOO a fe a LN vat Ry. es > 3 ER ae Re CS oe. Pa oe RRR tN clea nite p Yb RSS PPI . 2 ; ees oak er “ 6 P ee ee : Sa mame Se Neer oman a faend yn oT RE ne) aeee ea eae er a rec eee Te a WP sed liad IY otal PRB Ho tga iC te FH ah LA PA PD lila Sol io ad ON aaa TS eis A a LET I ta a ri DiXsteniiataoled Dee ee ke AAR MI PISS eas nase See eer 4 3 o & a : : pi Ks i : : = _£ # 108 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Draw out three or four threads about two ‘schies from the edge, the distance deteriiin- ‘rg the depth of your fringe; then taking No. 2.—For a Fringed Doily. spa group of threads, as in illustration No, 2, draw the thread, with which you are | working, down tightly under the needle point toward your right, thus tying a firm No. Se ‘net and securing an edge «which would atherwise soon become ioose and inelegant, 8} it did not ravel out. IE EE IN IE EL es TI If at first this knot is < stumbling block and looks clumsy, console yourself by think- ing that in it is contained the essence of drawn work, and that when it is snuee con quered and can be made quickly and evenly and almost unconsciously, what follows i9 comparatively easy. After going around your piece of work with this stitch, begin @ the tnside to draw the threads for your fringe The next step is the preparation of out wotk for a narrow pattern—an inch wide, Ye yw YY. ey V fees) Y ps Yn Ys JEN } ne )) Wa Weel Ue Me © WU AWA a URN EN Heneu)) x y \\ \\ \ PEO EN NEN PN eds WAN SSS 232 ia: eiam) am » rp Wo. 4. We draw out threads for that space, and fasten each side with the stitch shown in No. 2. All work ready for a design to be executed on it must present appearance 0} No. 3. Any uneven divison of threads will cause confusion and a most unsatisfactory result. Some of the simplest designs aré shown in No. 4. Doubtless they are familiar to every one, disagreeably so, it may be, ra} their endless repetition row upon row, as Ws re used to seeing them ox bouffet scart, if Ne .HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. iresome in the extreme. Perhaps I shall be able to demonstrate further on their proper use in setting off or relieving more elaborate work; so you are to take my word for it that they come in properly right here. And now, if those who have followed me so far wish to continue under my leadership, they will not regret (if they have fallible memories like mine) starting asampler. I have one—a strip of ecru momie cloth about a yard long and an eighth wide, covered with patterns. ‘This valuable piece of linen preserves for me many ideas which would otherwise have been lost, gathered as they were in various places at widely separ- ated times. Of its usefulness to others you No. 65. may judge when I tell you it has traveled from Halifax to California, and has been photographed by some of its admirers who could not keep it long enough to master all its details. So then let me urge you to commence a sampler, and on my word you will never regret so doing. So far we have gone without any artificial aid; but beyond this we cannot progress without a frame of some kind to hold our work firmly in place. in large cities can easily procure the light cloth-covered wooden frames sold for this purpose, in the fancy goods stores. If these Those of us who live ceaneennah thd Remiatncpents are not obtainable, almost any hardware | merchant or plumber will make, for about fifteen cents, a good frame of boiler-wire, bent in shape with the ends welded together This must be wound with strips of cottor cloth torn straight, not cut bias. ‘There Js yet another way: Anyone possessing some smooth strips of pine wood and a little ins genuity can construct a frame as serviceable, perhaps, as either of the others. No matter iow the result is reached so that it gives you a firm, not too heavy cloth-covered frame, half a yard long by not over eight inches wide. On this is securely basted whatever article is to be decorated. A word right here about linen thread: Some dry goods stores have two or three kinds of spool-linen—many more keep only onemanufacturer’s thread. If you havethree together, it is an easy task to decide which suits you best in texture and color, but if only one kind is at hand, and that proves in using to be harsh, uneven or knotty, next time try another manufacture. I hesitate te name the thread I prefer myself, lest I seem to discriminate against the others nearly as good ; so experience will be your best guide, and not a very dear one with linen only ten cents for two hundred yards; and softnese 109 PART. Une eee UU | tae Ere. ee a ne eee Re Tiel ~~ Se OS Ee a eels on pmeemmmmnammamnsti RRR SLID LLB DSB See eS i DNS. Se Cel Nip Se Re na cheat a es we Ae La rete Ser peer eS _— Laake adeeb a aad Seong 9g RONEN NNN EN in a ate epicteciee Aw Sani San nace eee eae RA aa a a Stal ON Re ne ea ee ae Ie ane RRL ES Cs ti ce Asa © 2e0 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. and evenuiess of finish, and harmony of color will determine your choice. And now we enter upon anew field of study in which one may become hopelessly involved unless content to advance one step at a time. Supposing the work to be care- fully basted on a frame of some sort (a round embroidery hoop serves admirably for sam- ples), and a space less than an inch wide drawn out, the threads divided, with a slender darning-needle and No. 25 thread, divide the strands of your open space into Beez t4Ga368 S20eecarsce SSta5ceecs a? FS 3 aot 2 A a pr Soke s as, x = sense by BEPRaseaessesooseeoecesee Sues Seerstssesrtiecrorererseetesestas e Bhoanaceces? ° soe scuRfonoase Sen Bee eet srerusas eu 5 SSSlSacaznesgceohs® a5eo gee aas ® eo36 8 StSQuapscesnis Baaproeesceeas gock: gos Be s on Stestege ane tay Hires U5Bs0 ansese ssoeticcoasiienesiapeat ean aS me agogssiegwian 5 Sat se +2 Ls aa ear 4 pe ee $2 ee Pit ST BAS SEA ee A Bee eS eae ED — No. % groups of four or five, and knot them firmly down the middle. ‘This is illustrated by thread a@ in No. 5. ‘Then with a longer thread, 4, knot each strand of the groups separately, crossing and recrossing the divid- jing linea. ‘The thread ¢ is used exactly as b, only that at the intersection of the three threads, another knot is tied. If you wish this knot to be more conspicuous, a deft weaving of your thread in and out, around the centre will inmake itso. - For No. 6 a little wider space is drawn and another thread each side of the middle line. At the imtersection of all the threads, a knot is tied as in No. 5, and the wheel is made by simple basket-weaving in and out around the centre until the desired size is reached. In No. 7 a yet wider space is prepared, the limit being from one-and-a-half inches to two-and-a-half. Here each group con- tains eight strands, and three threads are used each side of the middle. The greater ® so agecsheoocecre eetoase 8 Pah s space is here filled in with a large whee: nade by back-stitching round and round the central knot. ‘The success of this wheel depends entirely upon the angle at which each line crosses the middle, and upon the evenness of tension of the radiating spokes. If these spokes of your backstitched wheel will lean, and twist and curve, don’t dis hearten yourself; fingers and eyes will do better and truer work every time. No. 8 keeps still the thread down the gut, another strand is added in each group | iniddle. You don’t know yet what a helpthat dividing line has been to you, nor will you appreciate it until, as with other bless- ings, you have to do without it. In this No. 8 we takea still wider space; increase again the number of working threads. Learn a new wheel and an altogether new design. ror this pattern the space may be from two ‘0 four inches, the narrower being best to prac- tice on and the wider being used mostly for showy, open drapery. ‘The eight strands of each group are a very convenient number to work on, though sometimes on a material of closer mesh, ten strands give the same effect. For the wheel begin as before, with a knot at the intersection of all the threads, and then knot each radiating thread round and round the centre until the space is filled. It does not at all resemb!e a spider’s web here, does it? Just try itsome time when you have a great, bare, square corner to fill, and see then how the knots will dwindle away and the spider’s web appear. Now we come to the new design and to the end of our second lesson. As you see by the illustration, there are eight converse threads on each side of the middle line. We begin at the centre and weave our thread just as one darns a stocking, in and out, back and forth through six threads in two of the groups, and through three in the other two composing the figure. Less practice is re- quired to become skillful in doing this, than in making any of the wheels; and alternating with the wheel in No. 7, it makes up one of the most popular patterns of drawn work. Has this lesson been long and difficult ? Learn it well, then, for next time we must do without aids we have had here and denend more and more each one on her own judg- ment. Going on with our study we reach the goint where we must learn to do without HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. 20% our work. It has been a great help this dividing line, for if made right in the fisst place the rest of the pattern could not ge very far askew. Perhaps No. 9 will be better than any other to try first without our old guide, Kach group of six strands is tied firmly in the centre, as we have learned before, | only on the wrong side ix | this case, and the working thread is carried up to the margin and down to the next group to be fastened, and so on across the frame. It might be easier, after tying each group, to cut off the thread, but that would leave raw ends which would be sure to show. There is nothing else about No. 9, I think, that needs expla- nation. | In No. 10 we go a step furthe: and separ- ate the strands in two places, It may reauire some practice to do this well and keep all the spaces even, but the ex- perience will be valuable, for the design is one upon which may be rung a dozen changes. By in- creasing the number of Note spaces and working threads, it can be made as wide as you will, and this can be said of very few other drawn-work patterns. No, 11 is merely a modification of No. 9, the groups containing eight strands inst of six, and the working threads crossing at one point instead of at right an: gles,asin No.9. Itisone of those patterns thet Iaak well on any material, ass may be made almost any the straight thread through the middle of width not over fou inches. P ay PO Se ee So iene os ee | ad . eee a ™ ee ie ee ee es S ee Se ee 5 ee i al atedBS. sae Seite Wainer Pe at eso dh De Taek eS apne ost ae os BS ss eka San UA AEE ERITREA TO Ts ett Nina ot Tesbngant padi iI So PST ND SYNE SASS — So TRC RE NER CTRL Mo Ron Meee RT aR INE NN 202 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. I would try drawing out a space about two inches wide for a sample. You see I am taking it for granted you have followed my advice about a sample. If I had not my own before meas | write, I should not be able to instruct you at all; for while I might still have a dim and general idea of drawn- work and might be able to do some pretty, hap- hazard work, I should fong since have forgotten the number of inches and knots and strands. No. 12 brings us to something more diffi- cult, but which amply repays any time and skill spent in learning it, as it is the most showy work we have considered. It is essentially a design for light, open-meshed material, such as linen scrim, and is never el | tirely satisfactory on 5 heavier linen. I call No. 12 showy, but it cannot be made very wide, not much over two inches, and is always supplement- ed by something simple and narrow on each Wo. 18. side. ‘The great fault I find with people who try to learn No. 12 1s that they are deter- mined to make it wide, the effect is spoiled 4 anything but a wheel. and the pretty wheel ittle explanation. i take for granted we have : two inches drawn out, , space about Sisepieise a and groups of eight strands separated and tied firmly. this we have worked in the space between each ae 2 . sseeis Before hi =: ¥, XS RRR No. 14, wo groups, but now, you. will see by the illustration, we skip with eur working threads entirely over each alter- oe LL — nate group. No. 12 shows how this is done Nos. 13 and 14 I introduce without ex planation, just to show you how almost every design is susceptible of endless variation a: cording to the ingenuity, (tm ary taste and fabric used by each individual worker. Doubtless there are others which our readers would wish added to these; but the scope of my plan in No. 15. only permits me to give such instruction as shall enable you to copy other designs you preparing these papers, imay come across elsewhere. And now just a word about fringes. ‘The manner of preparing work that is to be fringed out has been described in the first of these articles. No. 15 shows the simplest kind of a knotted fringe. No. 16 a plain, wover fringe, and No. 17 a popu- lar combination of the two. If you will use a crochet needle to draw the strands through in weav- ing or knotting, you can work much more quickly than without its use. Begin always at the right hand side of your work, follow care- fully every detail of the pattern you are copying. When you can tie a row strai your work, and can do plain weavin then, but not before, try No. 18. In this the fringe f is divided into groups of eight strands, and each group is woven into a square. Going back to the beginning weave a second row of squares be- low the first, and tie this No. 1%.group into a hard knot. That makes the oroken-looking weaving ee above each tassel. ‘These tassels may be long or shurt, malf a finger or quarter of a ee in depth according to the article they are designed i ernainent. There are hundreds of Other fringes, just as there are many other drawn-work designs. I have given these partic- ular patterns because they seemed to me spe- cially useful to begin- ners. A neat and serviceable scarf for a butler’s fi ii No. 18. ray may be made of heavy butcher’s linen, hemstitcted on its two sides and fringed ac- eording to any one of the above designs ens. Decaicomanie. Beautiful jars, vases, umbrella holders, and boxes ,. be tie in this favorite work for which ) 9 pict tures are necessary. It es s taste to arrange these tastefully, and when well gummed, they should be varn- ished to preserve them, and to impart a finish. Potichomanie requires glas: foundation. Choose boxes, vases, or bowls of clear, flawless glass. Cut and gum your picture very carefully on the vase, which must then be varnished. Imitate Chinese, Assyrian, or Etruscan ee if you wish, but do not undertake this work ina hurry. Pass a coating of gum over the inside of the vase, then, if the outside is quite dry, paint it in oil, in any color you please. Tall vases to fill with vat-tails, grasses, and damage or to stand with a pot-pourri inside shedding, when- ever stirred, its a spicy odor over the drawing-room, are very important decora- tions. ‘hey have an air about them as who should say, “We are of very long descent. Nur lineage dates back to the cradle of civili- | tiful ornaments. HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. 203 zation, Egypt knew us in her palmy days. and so did Greece and Rome.” Wax Flowers. Though three-fourths of the wax flowers made are but clumsy imitations of the lovely blossoms which adorn the garden, or smile at us from their hiding-places in the woods and wayside fields, we need not sneer at the artist in wax, nor laugh at her handiwork, For there are artists in wax flowers and fruits who are so successful as to almost cheat the bees and the birds. Do not be discouraged if your first attempts are unsuccessful. Practice in this, as in all other things, makes perfect. You may have to label your productions to let people know what they are. You may try to make one flower, and come so near making another that your original thought will be entirely lost. If you cannot rise above such IHiitie {failures you will never become an artist. (\ne advantage you have is that. your mo lel is perfect. You are not required te maxe any improvements upon nature; you have only to imitate, and your lovely pattern | is before you. Practice will fit you for reproducing what nature produced in the first place, and the exact imitation of her work is what you are to aim at. Your models are at hand; spring and summer always bring them, and you have a to go to the garden or breezy field to obtain your copy. You are making flowers to blossom, leaves to put on their delicate hues, lilies to clothe themselves in purest white, fuchsias to bud and bloom. ‘To say there is a peculiar fas cination in this art is only to express what has been realized by nearly all who have tried it. And when you have succeeded and your productions bear a close resemblance to their original copies, your home has beats my A Ns iz es ep=] : 4 ~ s ef ¥ i at a F & a ee C ca a £ Fal e bi 7 Pd B Ps & eet ad a a ee kee ekdeaial Sl A AL Copia Aon SoM aa nae actin Se eee rae Ra Na le a a LA a lad lage gerite eng: ea cde eesti i aaa eA Cuck Fe Ne ee ROT PES K aE 2 9c COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. In order to make a violet, a pond lily, or a pansy, well, or to combine a dish of plums and grapes with the sun-kissed peach and the yellow pear, you must study your origi- nal and work from it. Take a real flower, or areal plum or peach as your model, and smitate it as closely as youcan. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again, and keep on trying till you see as the result of your efforts, not a clumsy wooden affair, but some- thing that is worth having and worth giving away. You do not need a great many tools, but those you have should be of the best, and should be kept clean and neat, and by them- selves. Nobody should think it too much trouble to take good care of her brushes, paints, and wax. Wax should be kept in 4 wox, closely cov- ered from dust, and in a cool place. You require a brush for every color you use, strictly kept for that one tint. It is well to have a separate brush for every shade. Your sable pencils may be cleansed after using for one color, and employed in another. Always use a pair of scissors to cut out | your petals, and take as your pattern the flower you wish to copy. In purchasing it is economy to go to the most trustworthy dealers and buy the very best wax. tinted, very pale green, smilax, tea-rose leaf, You will need white, cream- pale spring, aud deep spring-green tints for wax, but you need not buy all these at once. It is necessary to purchase at first only a very few materials. In paints, both in powder and cake, the wax-worker should have car- mine, chrome-yellow, burnt sienna, burnt | umber, Prussian blue, indigo, crimson-lake, violet, carmine, rose-madder, French ultra- marine, flake-white, and Indian yellow; fif- teen tinting-brushes, and four sable pencils; ered with silk for fine, and with cotton fos coarse stems; a palette and a palette knife ; some best Bermuda arrow-root; green and white down for leaves; two sizes of wooden molds for the lily of the valley, and a cutter for heliotrope, and a bar of India ink. This is a much larger outfit than the novice re- quires. If you succeed with your work, you will probably obtain it gradually. To take the pattern of a petal, place it or white paper, and brush it over with a tinting- brush. ‘Ihe form of the petal will be left white on the paper, aud may be cut out. lk you like, however, you may lay your petal on a piece of paper, and cut its pattern in that way. Always cut the petals with the orain of the wax. ‘The fingers are excellent g modeling tools. A few drops of glycerine used on the hands an hour or two before working makes them soft and pliant. Do not work with brittle wax. ‘To remove its brittleness, set it awhile in a warm room, if it has been in the cold. To take a mold for flower or fruit, mix some very fine plaster of Paris in a bowl with water, to the thickness of cream. Pout it lightly over leaf, or fruit, or bud, which it is well to place for the purpose on a glass slab. In about ten minutes the plaster will be hardened sufficiently to lift it from the slab, Pare away with a penknife any plaster that may have run over. Let the mold stay in the sun, having removed the leaf or bud, until it has hardened. In twenty-four hours it will be ready for a coat of varnish, which inust be very thin indeed. “To take the mold of such a flower as @ fuchsia or an unopened bud; oilit, pour yous thick plaster into a paper form, and allow the bud to sink on its side in the plaster. Let itsink only to the centre line, leaving one-half exposed.” ‘This direction is given some modeling pins, No. I and 3, wires cov- | bya teacher of experience. “‘ Lift the moldsut of the plaster before it is set too hard, scrape the rim smooth, and with the point of a penknife make two little cavities, one at the stem end, the other at the point where the four sepals of the calyx fold, and care- fully brush away any little particles of plas- ter; place this half of the mold back in the paper form, and paint the rim, the hollow, and the little cavities with sweet oil; place the bud again in the cast, and pour enough plaster over the exposed part to fill the paper form.” In order to take a w.x mold from this, dip it into cold water, ana pour melted wax into one half; fit the other half to it, turn it upside down, slowly, and hold in your hand till it has hardened. On removing the mold you will have the perfect bud. If you were able before the plaster became too firm, to bore a little hole in the mold at the stem end, you can slip the wire stem through be- fore the wax hardens. Proceed in the same manner to make molds for fruit, using your judgment according to shape and size. A panel covered with black velvet, on bud with a cluster of leaves, and this set upon a which is fastened a dainty tea-rose and silvered or gilted easel isan ornament on any table. wax roughly coated to resemble coral, the whole wreathed with a passion vine and flower, is a beautiful symbol at Faster; or a leaves 1s A cross of white pine, covered with cross of dark wood garlanded with very lovely. Exquisite bouquets of apple- blossoms, lilacs, and crocuses may be set in slender vases. Pond lilies look best mounted on dark green velvet, and covered with a glass case. Wax-flowers and fruit are very salable at fairs and bazaars, and the lady who knows how to make them well, is always sure of presenting her favorite table with something HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. 205 which will make a fine display, and bring in a good profit when disposed of. Phantom Leaves. Phantom or skeleton leaves are the ghosts of leaves that wave on the trees im summer. but are very pretty when finished. Gather the leaves when they are perfect, and then lay them in a large jar, filled with water. Leave them there until they decay, and the fleshy part of the leaves is eas ‘ily detached fron They are troublesome to prepare, 1 the fraime- ‘The xm of this delicate beautiful. work, or ure we may call the bones. y ethereal, fo thread- like Having loosened the green part, bleach the remain- veined w ee is very der by infusion in a strong solution of soda. When quite white, make bouquets or wreaths of different leaves in combination, and ar- range them on a dark back-ground, or set under glass. A few Words about Gathering Ferns. 2 Many a happy hour is passed by the dear folks at home in gathering and pressing ferns and autumn leaves, with which to brighten the house Never have too many when winter winds are wild. of these in one apartment, for ornament should always be ver ought to appear over- loaded or too profuse. A parlor ought not to be smothered with either growing vines or plants, nor should ferns and branches be give a spotty effect to subordinate, and ne so multiplied as to walls. All the young people may help in decora- ting the home with leaves, the girls pressing and preparing them, dipping the brilliant maple and the somber oak foliage into thin- nest wax, or varnishing it, or perhaps merely pressing it with a halfwarm flat-iron, and the boys climbing the step-ladder, and placing the bright bunches and vivid festoons where their sisters direct.Ly | ¥ 3 4 ¥ # é A 4 7 a « = a EF Pa er eae ae Pesan tyke ded u Nak LUNA iad Se a aaa ees Un Aa AP a Stal gb re ee ah ete RIO RE IRR A 1S a detail vertebrae at Be TSS US ee eat aS oe f i COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. ‘The fern-gatherer should go to the woods with a long basket, the sides and bottom of which are lined with fresh leaves. Lay the ferns in this, and as they wilt very quickly, cover them with leaves. Press them immediately on arriving home, between old newspapers, or, if you have it handy, large sheets of blotting-paper. Large old books will answer if you have them. Place a layer of ferns, face down; cover with several thicknesses of paper, on whic lay a thin, smooth piece of board. - Cover this with a weight evenly. ‘Three or four weeks will press them perfectly. Ferns and autumn leaves make a pretty picture framed against a black ground. They are a substitute for a bouquet in winter, when no plants are in bloom. Baskets and Wall-Pockets. Loosely plaited straw baskets, lined with satin, silk, soft worsted, or even silesia, tied with an immense bow, and ornamented with artificial flowers, or pressed ferns, a bunch of wheat, oats, grass, or corn-ears, make charming wall pockets. ‘These pock- ets are not only pretty in relieving the mo- notony of a wall, but they are very useful, enabling the neat housekeeper to put aside the baker’s dozen of odds and ends that ac- cumulate in spite of her, and assisting her to live up to that golden maxim, “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” Lace. Macrame lace is made of cord and is too intricate to be learned without personal in- struction. It is by no means difficult when one has the knack of it, and is utilized for the making of pretty bags for shopping, and of drapery, to finish off brackets, or jambrequins, and add variety to table-covers. Finer laces, made of thread, and a pretty braid is the foundation, are strong, lasting almost forever, and are very useful where one has many garments to adorn, but they are, one and all, exceedingly trying to the eyesight. White Embroidery. Except for the marking of initials on handkerchiefs or table linen, no lady ought to practice white embroidery in these day of cheap Hamburg edging. Machinery ex- ecutes such work with a precision and ele- gance to which few hands can attain, and life is too short to be spent in the slow set ting of white wreaths and eyelets and but ton-holes and hem-stitching, when daintily perfect work of the same kind can be bought for a song. Trifles. Among pretty articles to give one’s broth- er or gentleman friend, a shaving case may be mentioned. ‘Take asmall Japanese paper fan, cover it with silk or silesia, cut a piece of pasteboard the size of the fan, and cover it with silk or satin. Trim the edge with plaited ribbon, paint a spray of flowers on it, or paste a graceful picture. Fasten paper leaves nicely pinked to the fan part, and then join the two sides together finishing with a bow, and a loop to hang it by. An embroidered hat band, or band to hold a dinner napkin are pretty gifts for a gentle man. A foot-rest, worked on canvas in the old fashioned cross-stitch, filled in, and made up by an upholsterer over a box to contain blacking br: .hes and shoe polish is sure to be acceptah\- to papa. Pretty I'ctle work-baskets may be made of the paper boxes in which one carries home ice-cream from the confectioners. Scrap- pictures are easily procured to ornament lace-like trimming of which feather-edge them. ‘Thev may be cozily lined, and fim ished with a bowExquisite little hair-receivers are made of Japanese umbrellas, bought for three cents, inverted and hung by a loop of ribbon. These and many other little things are the merest trifles, but mother and the girls have good times together while they are tossing them off; the foam of merry hours, when good-natured talk, gossip without a spice of malice, and lively jests make home the blithest place in the world. China Painting. This is very captivating. Procure your colors in tubes, and you will acquire a great- er variety than you would for either oil or water-color painting. ‘Though it is permit- ted to use water-color brushes, it is advisable to have a different set, and, if you try both, keep your tools separate. ‘The colors most in use are black, white, gray, five shades of red, two of brown, three of green, four of yellow, and two of purple. ‘These may be obtained at any art-store. ‘The tube colors are diluted with turpentine. You will require a porce- lain palette, a glass slab eight inches square, several camel’s hair brushes of different sizes, several blenders, a quart bottle of spirits of turpentine, a quart bottle of 98 per cent. alcohol, a small bottle of oil of tur- pentine, one of oil of lavender, and one of balsam of copaiva. A steel palette knife, and one of horn orivory ; a rest for the hand while painting, made of a strip of wood about an inch long and twelve inches wide, supported at each end by a foot, an inchand a half in height; a small glass muller; and a fine needle set in a handle for removing tiny particles of dust. Such an outfit will cost from ten to twelve dollars. A plate, a flat plaque, or a tile is best to begin with. Let your first design be very simple. You will learn by degrees how to use the colors which will best stand the HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. Fe en ae Yis tae | 207 firing, which is the crucial test. ‘There are places in the cities to which cups and sau. cers, vases, plates, and all china articles may be sent to be fired, few people having the facilities for doing this in their homes. Painting can beapplied to china, to velvet, to satin, to cloth, and to almost every fabri and material in use among civilized peoples. By study,careful watching of processes, at- tention to details, and obedience to the di rections of the best manuals, one may learn to paint creditably without a master. But all arts are rendered less difficult by a pains- taking teacher, and therefore it is well, if one can, to join a class. A circle of young people at home, and ¢ few friends with them, might club togethes and engage the services of a good teacher, who would come to them twice a week. They would find that their rapid progress would well repay them for the time giver and money spent. The Care of Pets. f very engrossing home occupatiou is found in the care of pets. Sometimes, in- deed, the pets take more of the family atten- tion than outside friends approve. Over- indulged pets behave a good deal like speiled children. When the parrot has his napkin on the dinner table, and poising there, utterly refuses to eat anything but a dainty morsel on a gtest’s plate, when puss occupies the easiest chair and Ponto the sofa, the pets are too daintily lodged and too much considered, But every boy should have some dear dumb animals to love and care for, pigeons, rabbits, a feathered owl with his wise phiz, a frolicsome monkey, a darling chipmunk, a chattering parrot, a faithful dog, a pony, a gentle Alderney cow—how long is the list of our four-footed and two-footed friends in fuz or feathers, who serve us, amuse us, bear with us, love us, mind us, and no doubt wondes OTL Cea a ree Lad — RACER <2 ee UCR i ‘yack kil Senos, PO a a SS ea PN ea Schaal oui pane Deano an ‘ a SA ee Pen ie liane alee Med a rey et F ce. ear ee Pit ON eal F. 5.5 aeonsS < by Ra BZ : ae -@ Ft Ht = € : £ Fal Fs ; r} ; 5 Fa i A Se ae RA NAL ea i Sad 2 aka Sf tela Da hab Preece Lae atl a anc a Ac PS Sr phtectie ten AMIDA a sai adalah Meee aC aise ALIA La a i =) a # ks 3 be } = | f 208 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. at our queer vagaries and odd dispositions. Pets should be regularly tended, kept glean and comfortable, given pleasant and soomy houses of their own, fed plentizully, and, by gentle means, taught to obey their masters and mistresses. Well-cared for, they will reward by the pleasure they give, and sometimes they will manifest a kind and de- etree of intelligence, which might shame some stttpid bipeds who belong to our human sace. Photography. To have one’s picture taken used to be talked of as a family event, in the early days before we had found out what a swift and obliging miniature painter was out friend, the sun. In these days photography ig put to medical and scientific uses, and helps nearly all the other arts. An amateur photographer’s outfit is not gery expensive, and a young man possessed of any skill in carpentering, can easily build himself a little cabin outdoors, where he can keep his apparatus and chemicals, and obtain great popularity among the girls by taking their charming faces on tin-types, if not on paper. Collections. A geological or mineralogical cabinet, ora | ne collection of moths and butterflies, is a never ending source of pleasure and profit te the young student of natural history. No matron, however neat, should object if her others, if ridden too constantly, But # Emily has her painting, Louisa her music, Alice her books, Nanette her pretty dresses. and Lucille her housekeeping, why shall not Ned go poking among the rocks with his bag and little mallet, always making won- derful discoveries, and Rex prepare lures for the moths, and sally out with box and net for beetles and butterflies, and Tom take photographs, and Hugh collect stamps and postmarks. In the ideal home there is lib- erty to indulge the individual, so that each person may be deveioped symmetrically, and the happiness of al! be insured. Chisel and Plane. Change of work is often the best way o7 resting. A young man, occupied in a store or the counting-room, and using one set of faculties exclusively, has a great advantage over his companion who doesn’t know what to do with himself out of business hours, 1 he has a turn for carpentering. Such a youth can do wonders, if the ladies help him, with old furniture. ‘There is a discarded sofa in the attic; it began life in the drawing-room, in great pride and honor went from there to the dining-room, in the course of time was taken to the privacy of a bedroom, and at last, being scorned as a miracle of ugliness, was packed off to the obscurity of old lumber. But Arthur and Susie, with new springs and stuffing, gay | covering, varnish, and brass-headed nails, sons, bent on botany and geology, bring | weeds and stones into the house for classin. cation. A boy must have elbow-room. He will be the better man, the larger every way, and very likely the more affectionate son, brother, and, after a time, husband, if he is allowed to feel that his tastes are of some ac- count, and that he may have sufficient space in the house to indulge them. A hobby sometimes grows tiresome ‘0 | | | reuew the despised article, and it is restored to its former glory, and becomes the family boast. Bookcases, only tolerable where people use and love their books, may be made by the 7 Ixy xy an ~ imirc wileaaas handy young man, who thinks nothing ol undertaking a set of portable shelves, their edges finished with a band of bright morocco, deep enough to shield the precious volumes from dust.It takes a great deal of tinkering to keep aouse, grounds, fences, and gates in that state of perfect repair which indicates the highest thrift. IfCharlie has tools and knows how to use them, then, when a shutter is awry, or a sash-cord breaks, or a door c1eaks, or a gate hangs badly, he attends to it at once, and the neighbors admire the manner in which the folks at Charlie’s keep things up. Fret-Sawing, Wood-Carving. Wood-carving and fret-sawing is often left as a home occupation for the boys, but it is not exclusively theirs. Panels, easels, brack- ets, boxes, frames, and the various pretty carved articles for the table in which the ladies delight, may be made by both broth- ers and sisters. The amateur wood-carver must be provi- ded with a strong deal table, which should stand in a good light. He must have three chisels of different sizes, one an eighth of an inch wide, the others a quarter and a half inch wide. These should be ground rather slantingly. An oil-stone to set the edges, a number of gouges, which are chisels of a different pattern, a supply of wood—a bit of smooth pine or an old cigar-box will do— | are all that are indispensable at first. Try some simple leaf, with very few inden- tations at first. Draw it on paper, the back of which is rubbed with red chalk; pin this on the boaid, and press over it a bodkin or crochet-needle, and when lifted the outline will be found on the wood. Next stab out your outline, either with a chisel or with a little wheel, a notched instrument which is very easy to manage, In cutting away the wood, the chisel should be held in the right hand, the wrist of the left hand being held firmly on the panel, and the tool guided by the forefinger of the left hand. Begin to cut out the wood at some distance froin the outline, shaving gradually to if, 14 HOME OCCUPATIONS FOR LEISURE HOURS. 20G Do everything very neatly, and withou: haste. Leave no litter about when you are done. Besure to cut thoroughly, not dig ging or tearing away the wood. The fret-saw consists ofa frame with across- bar and two side pieces. ‘There are hand saws, and there are foot-power saws worked by treadles. The pattern must always be outlined first, and the operator must not hurry. The cost of a good fret-saw is from $I to $5, according to size. Full direc- tions accompany the machines. A lad who is ambitious may make a good deal of pocket-money by selling the pretty articles he turns out from his fret-saw. Wood-carving is much used in house-build- ing, and railings, shelves, and cornices may be made for the new home, if the family are to have one, by the cunning hands of the sons and daughters. Amateur Printing. There is still another fascinating pastime for young gentlemen, and one which effec. tually keeps them removed from outside temptation, and that is the printing-press. Many a little fellow’s highest ambition 18s gratified when he is able to print visiting cards for his triends among the ladies, and circulars for his business acquaintances, ‘The number of amateur newspapers edited, com: posed, set up, and passed through the press by boys on their small presses is very much larger than the uninitiated suppose. “Art is long and time is fleeting.” Change and vicissitude come to us all. The fledg- lings find their wings and fly from the home nest. While they are still there, if is good economy to make the nest so cozy, and to so fill the air with song and sweetness, that every memory of the dear place in all coming days shall vibrate to the air of “‘ Home, Sweet Home.” . = 5 placing his cap (cap, cap) upon his head, after Ha well died the plume, plum (plume), he gaily descended the stairs to bic i set out for the army 25 8 rithout forgetting any of his accoutrements adieu to his hostess, and Do 4 (all, except the soldier, accoutrements, #CCOU- ‘ \ LY CFVEH tS). 4 ’ When he had gone about three miles, he was so tired that he was obliged to stop for 4 moment, in a wood through which he had to pass; at the foot of an oak he found a seat of moss, very convenient for him to re- pose upon, and leaving his inusket (musket, musket) against the trunk of a tree, he sag down and soon fell asleep. He had not slumbered long when piercing cries a-vaked him. Heat once seized his musket, musket (musket), and ran with ail ate towards the place whence the cri seemed to come. Four ruffians were i Cr oO S oS S dress d insulting epithets, as she ae : gee sg x 4 . ° in their grasp. At first the soldier, soldiex (soldten j ”) takes aim with his musket (mzwsket, musket), but the young woman struggled se violently that he was tearful of wounding her in his attemp c t to render her assistance. d for him to do but to re- Nothing remaine sort to another weapon, his sabre, sabre (sabre), and his bayonet (bayonet, bayonet “ Stop, ruffians!” he cried. ‘The bandits see: ing that Wee had only to deal with one man, divide into two parties; two of them secure the woman, while the other two ad. vance to attack the soldier, soldier (soldzer). The latter takes adv waniice of the moment, when, without danger to thelady, he can use hisSther weapon, and brings to the ground one of his assailants, by a shot from his musket (ms- ket, musket). ‘The other, to avenge his com- rade, discharges a pistol, which pierces the eap (cap, cap) of the soldier, soldier (solder), without wounding him. ‘The latter ticks him with the bayonet (Jayonet, bayonet), and stretches him upon the ground beside his comrade. At sight of this, the two others set the woman at liberty and take to flight. The brave soldier (soldier, solder) casts upon the ground his knapsack, uniform, gun, pouch and cap (repeat each of these words twice) in less than a second. “Take care of my accoutrements” (all: accoutrements, ac- coutrements), he says to the woman, and } with his drawn sabre (sabre, sabre) in his hand, he flies in pursuit of the bandits. One of them stumbles over the root of a tree and | falls; the soldier, soldier (soldier), without stopping for a moment, strikes him with lis | sabre (sabre, sabre), ee the head, and then hastens after the fourth brigand, whom he overtakes and ne to the ground. He then returns to the spot where he had thrown down his accoutrements (accoutrements, ac- soutrements) that he might run the faster ; woman, knapsack, musket, pouch, cap (re- neat twice each word), all had disappeared, as well as the two ruffians whom he had are wounded; nothing was left to him but his gaiters ater s, gaiters) and sabre, sabre (sabre), without the scabbard (scabbard, scab- bard), and he was obliged io repair to the nearest magistrate to make a deposition of the facts, and complete his accoutrements fall: accoutrements, accoutrements). his story may serve as a model for an in- finite number of others. ‘The narrator must be careful to require forfeits from those who, earried away by the interest of the tale, for- get to perform the part of Ecuo, or who fail HOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTS. “Very seldom ;” a third, at iad 2 How Do You Like It? This is an excellent and very amusing game for winter-evening parties. It may be played by any number of persons. ‘The com: pany being seated, one of the party, called the Stock, is sent out of the room, and the company then agree upon some word which will bear more than one meaning. When the tock comes back, he or she asks each of the company in succession, ‘* Hoy i it?’’ One answers, ‘J like it at Ps ast “TI like it cold;” another, “I like it old:* another, “I like it new.” He then asks the company in succession, again, “* When ae you like it?” One says, “At all times ;” another Ly aO Oy tA © i- fourth, “ On the waters a fith, “Om tae land,” etc. Lastly the Stock goes round and asks, ““Where would you put it?” One says, “I would put it up the chimney ;” another, “I would throw it down a well;” a third, “I would hang it on ree a fourth, “I would byt it in a pudding.” From these answers, a witty girl may guess | the word chosen; but, should she be unable to do so, she has to pay a forfeit. Many words ight be chosen for the game, such as— Aunt and ant. Plane and plain, Rain and rein. Vice, a tool; and vice, a crime, Key, of a door; and quay, a place for ships. Twirl the Trencher. A wooden platter or a plate is brought in, and given to a person who is to be the re: The leader then takes a name himself, and gives a name to each of the company. Num: bers will do, or the Christian or familiar names by which they are usually known, or the names of animals or flowers may be adopted. Each person must be sharp enough to remember his or her name directly it is t9 do so the requisite number of times. | mentioned. Each person has a chair, and 2 = ie sie ~~ ho ees ARGC LE eee Pa a a a a ee eels a a. ee ial - . ee ee eae eed eeA c 2 x % b Ps Es é 3 rs @ ‘ . 4 & £ e F = ¢ ] e Ey ’ DeaSled abensl ah aid et nA ree el aie a TAS SSI OE ESTER TEST = - 4 : ‘ . i : i 4 é Fs Fs rE is oY 9 BY, by a i Hl ae - 216 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. large circle (the larger the better) is formed around the plate. The leader then gives the plate a spin, and calls out the name of the person who is to catch it. Leader then runs to his seat, leaving the piate spinning, and when the person named fails to catch the plate before it has done spinning, he or she must pay a forfeit, which must be held until all the players have forfeited. This game excites a great deal of merri- ment, and should be played in a spirited manner. ‘The plate should be fairly spun, and the names distinctly but quickly called out. A little stratagem should be employed by looking towards one person, and then calling out the name of another quite unex- pectedly. Nobody should demur to pay a forfeit if fairly fined, and each person should cemember his own forfeits. The Three Kingdoms. This game is somewhat similar to “’T'wen: ty Questions,” and both are popular. We have known instances of these games being played every week for several seasons 1n suc- cession and by the same parties. The player who has proposed the game withdraws into an adjoining chamber, while the rest of the company agree upon an object that he must guess. When the word is agreed upon they recall him; he has the right to ask twelve ques. tions, which refer at first to the kingdom to which the object belongs that is expressed by the word selected, upon the present con- dition of this object, the country where it is most frequently found, and finally, upon the metamorphosis which it has undergone, its use, and its qualities. There are three kingdoms in nature, to wit, The Game of Twenty Questions. This is a pleasant game enough for winter evenings, and is played by one person fixing on a word denoting a substance, object, etc. —substance (for the purposes of the game) being unshapen masses, such as marble, clay, wood ; objects having both shape and form. Thus, clay is a substance, but a flower-pot an object: marble a substance, and the chimney- piece an object, and so forth. The others try to discover it, in turn, by putting ques- tions, of which twenty only are allowed, | the answers being confined to “yes!” and “no!” with the exception of that defining whether it be animal, vegetable, or mineral. The inquiries, of course, will be governed by the answers given as the game proceeds, and mtist depend on the tact of the questioner. It is difficult to give any rules for guidance ; the three leading questions, however, are usually—z. Is it animal, vegetable or min- eral? 2. Isit useful or ornamental? 3. Is it manufactured or unmanuifactured ? -_ The Animal Kingdom—which comprehends every thing that has life and movement, and everything that has formed part of an ani mated being, such as horn, ivory, skin, hair, wool, silk, etc., etc. The Vegetable Kingdom, which includes trees, plants, flowers, leaves, fruits, bark ; ina word, all that the earth produces which has life without movement. The Mineral Kingdom, which includes | everything that has neither life nor move. ment, as stones, diamonds, ete. An object may belong to two or even the three kingdomsat once. A shoe, for instance, belongs to the azzmal kingdom by the leather and the skin of which it is composed, to the vegetable kingdom by the thread with which itis sewed, and to the mzxeral kingdom, if it is furnished with nails. It is necessary, therefore, before selecting a word, to euumerate its different parts, which may connect it with one or more of the three kingdoms.The players should answer in a manner calculated to describe the object, yet not too plainly. But, on the other hand, those who give false notions of the object are liable to the penalty of a forfeit. The questioner who, after twelve answers which are recognized as satisfactory by the company, fails to guess the object, pays a forfeit in his turn, and withdraws, while the rest of the players agree upon another word, which he must try to guess in the same manner. HXAMPLE. he questioner, having heard the signal, re-enters, and directs his questions somewhat in this manner : 1. “’To what kingdom does the object thought of belong?” One of the players answers: “To the Ve- getable Kingdom, and no other.” 2. “Is it growing at present, or put to use?” Fea to use,” 3. “Ts it an article of furniture?” 66 No: 4. “What use is it commonly put to?” “Tt is commonly covered, at regular inter- vals, with a fluid of a color completely opposite to its own.” 5. ‘In what places is it most commonly produced ?” “In New England, New York, and New Jersey.” _ 6, “Ah, I know that it is not linen, for “neither of these States is celebrated for that “article.” ' “No, but linen has something to do with ate 7, “What metamorphosis has it under- gone?” ; “A very great one. It has been cast into the water, beaten, crushed, reduced to pulp, then reunited into a solid body, such as we see it every day.” HOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTS. 8 “It is Paper then?” ‘You have guessed it.” The player whose answer leads the ques- tioner to guess the riddle, then pays a forfeit, and becomes the questioner in his turn. Let us suppose that he is trying to divine the object next thought of, he begins with the same question as his predecessor. 1. “To what kingdom does it belong ?” “To the three kingdoms.” 2. Is it put to use then?” &¢ Yes.” 3. “Ts it an article of furniture?” ‘Portable furniture.” 4. “What is its ordinary use?” “To guard against dampness.” One of the players here makes the observa- tion that this reply is not exact, and that the respondent owes a forfeit. The latter replies—“‘ Why, if I said that it shielded from the rain, he would guess it without difficulty.” The questioner replies hastily, “It is an umbrella.” “There! I could not save my forfeit ; it is very annoying.” “Go into the next room}; it is your turn to guess.” The zmobrella, in truth, belongs to the azz- mal kingdom by its silk covering and its whalebone frame, to the mzneral kingdom by its fastenings of copper and of steel wire, and to the vegetable kingdom by its ha-sdle, of what wood soever it may be made. Paper made of old rags 1s of the veg able kingdom purely, since the linen is mide of hemp or flax, and muslin and calico are made of cotton, which belong to the vey etable kingdom. Game of Consequences. This game requires paper and pen Is, and each one is to write according to the direc- tions which are given by the leade. The 217° a oe ee me i oot a a ee ~~ s. Se Leaman de Deni IA I. Ee Pea ee eB eee te ail we@s. * 4~ Peale O dbo eee es - Pe Teal atenanel oe al a al ali ae ee ph aia as HONE SEED eid Sr se beiabiehcade ald SS eisaidet ae oF pear OUT At ad alah rl a A Oe en ited es PSL PaaS aaa aR ah LEE tt bala bl One cee ae emig oan aa cea rete leet Pi PN AOR ETE SH NE Te OS Sedo dertar’aar aie x ba F & : a BY bo p32 3 S ; 4 - & - f #18 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. erst one is told to write one or more terms descriptive of a gentleman, who does so, and then folds down the paper so as to conccal what is written, and hands it to the next one, who,after receiving the order, writes, folds the paper down as beiore, and passes it on to the next one, and so on, until the directions are exhausted. ‘The leader then reads the con- tents of the sheet aloud, which will cause much amusement. Let us suppose these to be the directions of the one acting as leader : “Begin by writing a term descriptive of a gentleman.” “A gentleman’s name; some one you know or some distinguished person.” “ An adjective descriptive of a lady.” “A lady’s name.” “Mention a place and describe it.” “Write down some date or period of time when a thing might happen.” “ Putaspeech into the gentleman’s mouth.” “ Make the lady reply.” “Tell what the consequences were?” “ And what the world said of it?” The paper being opened, we will suppose it to read as follows: “The modest and fascinating Living Skele- ton met the beautiful and charming Fat Woman at the Dime Museum, on the 4th of July, 1891. He said, ‘ Dearest, I adore you,’ and she replied, ‘I’m very fond of it” The consequences were, that they were married, and the world said, ‘All’s well that ends well,’ Geographical Play. ¥ Let each person of a party write on a siece of papet the natne of some town, coun- try or province ; shuffle these tickets to- ae Vy 4 gether in a little basket, and whoever draws out one is obliged to give an account of some production, either natural or manufac- tured, for which that place is remarkable. This game brings out a number of curious bits of information which the party may have gleaned in reading or in travelling, which they might never have mentioned other, but from some such motive. Let us suppose there to be drawn Nurem: berg, Turkey, Iceland and Florida, of which the drawers narrate thus: © ony ~ o et © Oo > OQ pend rn a Nuremberg has given to the world many useful inventions. Here were first made the pocket-watch, the air-gun, gun-lock, and various mathematical and musical instru- ments; and at present half the children of Europe are indebted to Nuremberg for toys; and the industry of the inhabitants is exs tended to teaching birds to pipe. Turkey is celebrated for its costly carpets, which all the efforts of European art and capital have failed in closely imitating; yet these carpets are wov'. by the women among the wandering ‘.1nes of Asiatic Tur- key. The “Turkey Bird” is, however, very absurdly named, since it conveys the Te EE: EES ES, false idea that the Turkey orginated in Asia J oD 5 a whereas it is a native of America. Neither is “Turkey Coffee” grown in Turkey, but is named from the great consumption of coffee in that country. St / Iceland produces in abundance a certain lichen called Iceland Moss, which is brought to America asa medicine, but is in its na- tive country used in immense quantities as an article of common food. When the bitter quality has been extracted by steeping in| water, the moss is dried and reduced to pow- der, and then made into a cake with meal or boiled and eaten with milk. Florida is celebrated for its mild and genial climate, its extensive orange groves, immense swamps and numerous alligators, The skin of the alligator is now used fo many purposes, such as binding books, make \ | | ing hand-bags, pocket-books, ete.@he Wild Beast Show. A acreen must be placed at the end of the room; behind it is placed a mirror and a light. ‘The showman stands before the scene and offers to exhibit his wild animals to a person who will promise not to describe what he has seen when he comes out. ‘Then SN 1% Dy the person who gives the promise and de- mands admittance is asked what animal he wishes to see. n his naming one, the shoman proceeds to describe it. The de- scription should be very witty, and should have some application (either compliment- ary or satirical) to the person who wishes to see the show. The person is then admitted | apd isshown fzmself in the looking-glass. Marriages and Divorces. These two games form in fact but one, such is the resemblance between the course to be pursued by both. The company commence by seating them- selves before a table; the ladies are seated on one side, the pendcinen on the/other Ihe gentleman and lady opposite eack other are the future spouses in the game of Marriages, or the discontented spouses in the game of Divorces. If there are one or more gentlemen or ladies left after the couples a been formed, they compose the tribunal; if there are none left, one of the ae is chosen to represent it. Then each person takes a sheet of paper, and without a the others, traces upon it a are ch of his character. When all have finished, and it should be done as quickly as possible, the tribunal, which is seated at the upper end of the table, calls up the pair of future spouses most dis- tant from it, and commands them to give up the several sheets of paper upon which they have written their characters the tri- bunal then reads aloud the qualities or de- y concert with | HOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTs. 21 9g fects which the couple have attributed te themselves. character betwe man and If there is a great similarity oi een the pair, they are declared wife, and invited to form part oi the enna if, on the contrary, their tastes are opposite, the tribunal decides that there is no reason why the marriage should take place, and segues a forfeit from each. In the game of Divorces the only difference is that the marriag ge is confirmed, wherethere s, and both are re- DEL ic 4d ‘ive a for et wr having demanded ithout just cause; while, on marriage is dissolved where 1e pa is invited to augment t the nuim- See (may te eS oe per OT the judg res, incorapatibility really exists, and tl Compiiments. A cirele is formed; a gentleman and lady sitting alternately. Politeness demands that the game should be commenced by a lacy. ‘“‘T should like,” she says, “‘ to be such op such an animal.” (The more abject or dis- eusting this animal is, the more difficult is it to invent the compliment which the lady has the right to expect.) Suppose, for exainple, she has chosen the ES hornet, She inquires of her left hand neigh: bor if he knows why she has made so strangs choice. The latter, who is not expected to pay het ) eed a compliment, replies simply, from the wel} O known nature of the animal, ‘‘ Because you wish that all living beings should avoid the ace where you have chosen your abode.” The lady inquires of her right hand neighbor, “What advantage would I find in this transformation ?” Answer. ‘That of escaping from a crowd of admirers whom your modesty makes you look upon as importunate.” If the gentleman first addressed pays the | lady a compliment, or if the second fails te > le 2 ee eee a eee Ce eee deey tt ei Deets Te eA LS are Se Sa aan Aaa ei a ae Reta wt 76 Re eee Yee A 1A PPS ls A a Tala MIC BOE: 4 4 & 3 ; F bs a Ee Rt ; b 4 e «| . & bs of # 220 CUURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. do so, both pay a forfeit already agreed upon. Then it becomes the turn of him who pays the compliment to form a wish. He expresses, for example, a desire to be a goose. ‘Then he asks the lady whom he has just complimented if she can divine what can be his motive? “It is,” she replies, “that you may inhabit indifferently either the land or the water.” Then addressing himself to the lady on his right hand, he says—‘‘ What advantage would I find in such a metamorphosis?” “The hope so dear to your heart of one day saving your country, as the geese of the capitol once saved Rome. ”’ One round is enough at this game, because nothing is more tiresome than compliments, when prolonged, however much they may be merited. It is necessary, however, to complete the entire round, in order to de- prive no one of his or her turn, as the little part each plays is always flattering to the vauity, even of those among the company the least susceptible of it. The Duich Concert. In this game all the parties sit down. Each person makes a selection of an instrument— say one takes a flute, another a drum, a third the trombone, and a fourth the piano, and each person must imitate in the best way he can the sound of the instrument, and the motions of the player. ‘The leader of the band, commencing with his instrument, all the others follow, tuning some popular air, such as ‘Yankee Doodle,” “Pop goes the Weasel,” “Bobbing Around,” “In the Days when we went Gipseying,” or any other air. The fun consists in this, that the leader may take any instrument from either of the play- ers, who must watch the leader, and take the instrument which he was previously playing. Uf he fails to do so, he pays a forfeit. Or if he makes a mistake, and takes the wrong instrument, he pays forfeit. Suppose A be the leader, playing the violin, and B to be one of the band, playing the trombone, Directly A ceases to play the violix and imitates the trombone, B must cease the trombone, and imitate the violin, and immediately A returns to the violin, 5 must take the trombone, or whatever other instrument A was playing the momen! before he took the violin. If he makes mistake, he pays forfeit. This is a very laughable, though rather noisy game. It should not be continued too long. A good leader will soon be able to impose forfeits upon all the players. Tomboia. This novel game is productive of much fun. The mistress of the house who desires to set up a lottery, should have provided bes forehand a number of fancy articles, toys, and elegant nicknackeries; and among these should be prepared one in particular, destined to the discomfiture of some luckless expect ant. ‘This lot should be carefully enveloped in several wrappers of tissue paper, and well laid up in cotton, and may consist of any absurd and chiléish or worthless article. If should be placed the last according to the law of gradation observed with respect te the remaining lots, set out on the table and left uncovered. When the time of drawing has arrived, the master of the house takes a pack of cards, which he distributes among the drawers, according to their several wishes-= an agreed price being set upon each card, When this is done he takes another pack, from which a number of cards are drawn without being looked at, equal to the number of lots, and one is placed undef each. He then turns up the remainder of the pack, laying down each card in succession and calling it out. The drawer who has a similar card to the one called out, places his beside it. When the whole are thus gone through, those who remain holders of cards corresponding to those under the lots are declared the winners; but of what, remains to be seen. ‘The card under each lotis called out, beginning with the fist; and the drawer who holds a similar one carries off the lot. ‘Thus in succession through all the lots, until the last, or the great “sell” lot. So much for the technical arrangement of the game; now let us sketch its dramatic effect—the movement and excitement to which it gives rise. As one by one the cards in the drawers’ hands are proclaimed worthless, the laugh at their disappointment stimulate: them to make another venture, and a general bidding takes place for those that remain, and as their number diminishes, and the consequent probability of any one of them becoming a prize increases, they fetch higher and still higher prices. The anxiety—the mingled hope and fear with which all eyes are fixed on the card about to be turned up, are emotions which not the coolest and soberest of the company can guard against; and when, at last, the lots are distributed to the winners, each is in more or less trepidation, lest his prize entitle him to the honor of contributing to the general mirth by being presented with the “sell”? and having deliberately to unfold layer after layer of the paper and wool until he reaches the kernel of the mortifying Joke which is cracked against him. The mistress of the house retains from the proceeds of the lottery the cost of the various articles drawn for, and the remainder is de- voted to some charitable purpose. The Bouquet. Fach player in his turn supposes himself a HOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTS. 225 Hach one must name aloud to the leader o: the game the three flowers of which he con. siders himself composed. The leader of the game writes down the names of the three flowers, and adds to what he has written, without informing the other, the names of any three persons of the com: pany he may choose. He then asks the player to what use he intends to put the three flowers he has chosen. ‘The player tells him to what use he means to put them, and the leader of the game applies it to the three persons that he has written down. EXAMPLE. THE LEADER OF THE GAME. Miss Julia, choose your three flowers. Jutta. ‘The Marigold, the Bachelor’s but: ton, and the Rose. THE LEADER. I have written them down. Now what will you do with your Marigold? Juuia. I will throw it over my shoulder. THE LEADER. And the Bachelor’s Button? Juuia. I will put it at my window. THE LEADER. And the Rose? Jutia. I will put it on the mantel-piece. THE LEADER. Very well, you have thrown Adolphus over your shoulder, you have put Miss Maria at your window, and adorned your mantel-piece with Charles. And now, Mr. Adolphus, it is your turn to speak. Choose your three flowers. Flora’s Bouquet. Each player chooses three flowers, having a well-known signification, either complli- mentary or uncomplimentary, to suit the person for whom he secretly designs them; he binds them together, deposits the bouquet in a vase, writes upon the vase a motto, and sends it to the person whom he intends it for. Even in the gift on an uncomplimen: tary flower the flower itself is some compen: bouquet, composed of three different lowers. sation for the slur it conveys. ee Nd ye ae i Leymann ge Re OA. RR een 1a Mose endian Nella. 6 he es ed a atl Fa eeleC ee rat id ase eA a PL eo allan ats ae SETI EEO EEA A aT Ee ene A ROLL IRAE BLS EVIL sea ale ecient eerar ta eee BS OTN H SH LENT Hwy en hen oe Ree OTE Ge aT ME SL 4 i) 222 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC I1tE. EXAMPLE. A young lady, who is annoyed by the importunities of a disagreeable admirer, expresses herself thus: “T choose a Poppy, a Pink, and a Thistle. “The Poppy isasymbol of the wearisome- ness which leads to sleep, the Pik is that of self-conceit, and the Z/zs¢le is that of the wreath which self-conceit merits. ‘OT tie this bouquet, I take a piece of ribbon-grass. “T place it in a vase of the commonest earth. ““T write upon the vase: ‘Praise be accord- ing to merit.’ “YT address the whole to Mr. spare him the trouble of thanking me.”’ A young man composes his bouquet in the following manner: “T choose a Rose, a Pansy, and a Lely of the Valley. K The Rose is the symbol of beauty, the Pansy that of wit, and the Lily of the Valley that of virgin simplicity. “T tie this bouquet with a piece of ivy, syinbolical of my constancy. “T place it in a vase of gold, upon which I write: ‘To Beauty, adorned by Virtue.’ “ And I present it to Miss a , and The Bund Postman. The game of the Blind Postman is one especially adapted for a large party. It is played as follows: The postman is selected by lot, while the postmaster-general either volunteers his ser- vices, or he is elected by the company. The person on whom the unwished-for honor of enacting postman falls (it may be either a | lady or a gentleman) is blindfolded; the re- | mainder of the company meanwhile seating | themselves around the room. ‘The number of chairs is limited, so that there shall be one less than the number of players. The post- master-general then writes the names of Cex« tain cities and towns on slips of paper, giv- ing one to each person, so that they may remember by what name they are to answer. Should there be but few players, the names can be givenorally. ‘The postman is placed in the centre of the room, and the postmaster- general takes up a position from which he can address the entire company. He commences the game by calling out “New York to Philadelphia’’ (or any other places which he may select). ‘The players bearing these names must instantly rise, and endeavor to change seats with each other ; while the postman tries to capture one of them before they accomplish the change. | Should he succeed he removes the bandage from his eyes, and takes the chair which his captive has vacated, while the latter is blind- folded and becomes postman in turn, in ad- dition to paying a forfeit. Forfeits are also incurred by those who do not spring to their feet and endeavor to change seats with the town or city whose name is called in connection with their own. Forfeits are also demanded of those who, in their hurry to be in time, answer when their name has not been called. The confusion caused by these blunders places many chances in the postman’s favor. ‘The postmaster- general may hold his appointment till the end of the game, but if he tire of his honors he may resign. Cross Purposes. Tis is another very entertaining game. One player goes round among the circle and whispers in each one’s ear an answer he is to make to the next player who comes | after him asking questions. For instance, | Charles goes round to Nos. I, 2, 3 and 4. To No. 1 he whispers—“ Hot, sweet, and strong.” To No. 2, ‘‘ With pepper and vinegar.” To No. 3, ‘‘ With my best love.” To No. 4, “ No, indeed.”some kind. Jane comes after Charles, to ask any ques- tions her own wit, we will suppose, may sug- gest. HOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTS, And to the whole circle an answer of 228 his counters, as a pledge of the obligation he is under to him. ‘The next person in order to the one who spoke last is to proceed, se as not each time to begin with number one. If no one of the party speaks, the traveller She asks No. i, “What kind of a week have you may consider there is nothing worthy of passed P”’ No. 1, Hot, sweet, and strong.” To No. 2, Shall you ever marry?” No. 2, ‘‘ With pepper and vinegar.”” To No. 3, ‘‘ How will you keep house on these ?” No. 3, ‘‘ With my best love.” . To No. 4, ‘‘Do you love me? *” No. 4, ‘* No, indeed!’ Much amusement is made by the total yariance of the questions and answers, and sometimes a very hard blow is administered to some of the company, but, of course, no offence should be taken. The Traveller’s Tour. This game may be played by any number of persons. | One of the party announces himself the Traveller, and about to take a little tour. He calls upon any of the party for informa- tion respecting the objects of the greatest in- terest to be noticed in the different towns and villages through which he intends passing. He is given an empty bag, and to each of the persons joining in the game are distribut- ed sets of counters withnumberson. ‘Thus, if twelve persons were playing, the counters required would be up to number twelve, and a set of ones would be given to the first per- gon, twos to the second, threes to the third, and so on. When the treveller announces the name of the place he intends stopping at, the first person is at liberty to give any information, or make any remark respecting it, if he can- not do so, the second person has the chance, or the third, or it passes on until somie one is able to speak concerning it. If the travel- ler considers it correct information, or worthy of notice, he takes from the person one ot notice at the piace he has announced, and he then passes on to another. After he has reached his destination, he turns out his bag to see which of the party has given him the greatest amount of infor- mation, and that person is considered te have won the game, and is entitled to be the Traveller in the next game. If it should happen that two or more per: sons should have given the same number o! counters, those persons are to be allowed in succession to continue to assist the Traveller and deposit their pledges, until one alone remains. EXAMPLE OF THE GAME. ‘TRAVELLER, I intend to take a littie ex | cursion this summer, and shall soon start from New York for Niagara; but as I wis> to stop at several places, I shall travel slowly My route will be by steamboat up the Hud son to Albany, thence through the centre of the state to the Falls. NuMBER ONE. Soon after leaving New York city you come to the Palisades, which form one of the first objects of interest 11 your route. ‘The noble river is then wallec in for thirty miles by high precipitous rocks, upon whose summits imagination has but te place some ruined castles to suggest oldex memories, and the inferiority of the scenery of the vaunted Ruine to that of the Hudses must be confessed. TRAVELLER. ‘Thank you for this infor mation; pray deposit a counter in my bag, that I may remember to whom IToweit. [ propose to stop at Tarrytown. NuMBERS Two aud THREE not answering. ee ~~ < R es . shee ka! ia baht S bebe baa RCE STS > etal ie aS ee Pn CO ie Oh dia a ee ae eelOT snp ig Me ADIN YT TE Bae ttn ie nla, See Sled alma aval ae Se Eh PAA PD lil) Sal cal AL bet ine eR a a ta A a SCRE IEMA a NEALE A GORE ROR ENE SNE SIRE EL te i | 224 Numper Four. Pray visit the spot of Andre’s arrest. After the final arrangements with Arnold in regard to the betrayal of West Point were made, Andre proceeded on horseback tc New Yor, and when he reach- ed this spot supposed himself to be within the British lines, and thus secure from danger. Here he was stepped by three soldiers, whose names will ever be held in remembrance— Paulding, Williams, and Van Wart Instead of showing his passport, he inquired whence they came, and receiving for answer “ Froni helow,” he responded ‘So do I,” showing at the same time his uniform as a British officer. ‘We arrest you as an enemy to our country,” replied these soldiers; and resisting all his attempts at bribery, they led him captive to the head-quarters of the American general. His sad fate is well known. near this place, his remains were left here a er ‘ ek Hung as a spy few years, but are deposited among England’s {llustrious dead in Westminster Abbey. Number Four deposits a counter. NuMBER SEVEN. ‘The Hudson is rich in revolutionary reminiscences. A short dis- tance from Tarrytown, on the opposite shore, you will reach Stony Point, the scene of Mad Anthony Wayne’s daring exploit in 1779, when, without firing a single gun, the fort here situated was surprised and taken by as- sault, forming one of the most brilliant COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE: them are the Dunderberg, Anthony’s Nose, and Butter Hill. Number Nine deposits a counter. NuMBER ‘TWELVE. In the bosom of the Highlands you will find West Point, which is unquestionably the most romantic spot on the river. ‘The village is placed upon the top of a promontory one hundred and eighty- eight feet above the river, where there is spread out a level plateau or terrace more than one mile in circumference. Number | I'welve puts a counter into the bag. ‘TRAVELLER. other information ? NumBer ‘Two. West Point is the seat of the United States Military Academy, es- tablished in 1812; the land was ceded to the United States by New York in 1826, Num: ber ‘Iwo deposits a counter. Can you give me any NUMBER SIx. Itis famous as the scene of Arnold’s treason. During the Revolution this post was considered the key of the Hud: son, anda heavy chain was here stretched from shore to shore. ‘The British were very anxious to obtain possession of this place, which they would have done had Arnold’s treason sticceeded. Number Six hands the Traveller a counter. TRAVELLER. Are there tore objects oi interest on the river? NUMBER EIGHY’. Notice the Catskill exploits achieved during the war. A counter ef Nuniber Seven is put into the bag. TRAVELLER. I cannot stop long here, but must proceed with my journey. Where shall I stop next? NuMBER NINE. You pass then at once iato the Highlands. Here the Hudson has burst its way at some distant period through the mountains, leaving on each side a ram- part of almost perpendicular hills of from six hundred to seventeen hundred feet above the evel of the river. Most prominent among | Mountains, which present a very abrupt front to the river and run nearly parallel to it for twenty miles. The views from the Mountain House are grand and majestic— up and down the Hudson one can see for seventy milss either way and the Fall of the Katers Kill, three miles from the House, is exceedingly beautifvl. deposits a counter. TRAVELLER. My time will not permit me to visit all objects and places of interest; the principal ones must content me; my Number EightHOME PASTIMES AND AMUSEMENTS. next resting place will be the city of Albany. NUMBER THREE. You will find Albany pleasantly situated. From the top of the capitol, which is built on a hill, the view is very fine. You will find all the public State buildings worthy a visit, as well as those for educational and literary purposes, Albany being distinguished for these last. Number Three deposits a counter, TRAVELLER. I shall no doubt find pleas- are in visiting them, but after leaving Albany { shall be obliged to hasten, taking the cars fromm there as’ the most expeditious way. Shall I stop at Schenectady ? No one replies, so the Traveller considers there is nothing peculiarly interesting there, and proceeds to another place, asking— “Where would you advise me to stop?” NuMBER Five. ‘The beauty of ‘Trenton j Island the Rapids co Falls is well and widely celebrated. Stop- | course of rather more t ping at Utica, you will havea slight detour | minate in the Great Cata ract. 228 TRAVELLER. friends for the information I have destination ? NUMBER NINE. On the of the State, in a river or oo of thirty-fo Lake Ontario, and pouring the waters of 2s Great Lakes over a precipice of one fanaa ed and sixty-five feet in perpendicular height, thunders the far-famed and unrivalled catar act of Niagara, in whose presence all stand dumb with no power to eee ibe, but onl wonder andadore. About three miles belc its commencement the river Ly to ‘low divides into two arms, which embrace an island called Grand Island, twelve miles long and from two ts seven wide. Nearly three miles below Grand mence, and after 2 han half a mile, ter- Goat Island, of sixteen miles to make in order to reach | a quarter of a mile wide and half a mile long ae but you will be fully compensated for | extends to the very bro he trouble. Number Five deposits a counter. NuMBER NINE. When again on your route, do not fail to stop at Syracuse, at which place, in connection with the village of Salina, a few miles distant, you will find the most extensive salt manufactories in the United States. Salt is obtained from the various salt-springs here abundant, in several ways, by boiling, evaporation, etc.,—and the processes are exceedingly interesting. Num- ber Nine hands a counter. TRAVELLER. Shall I find more objects of interest here? NUMBER ELEVEN. Syracuse issituated on Onondaga Lake. In the southern part of this State lie a cluster of lakes of which this is one, all remarkable for beautiful scenery. The tourist for pleasure will not regret the time spent among them. Number Eleven deposits a counter. 5 very brow of the precipice an divides the Falls into two portions, the higher of which is on the American side, but the greatest body of water is on the Canadian. The American Fall is again subdivided very unequally by Iris Island, with the greater of these subdivisions nearest the New York shore. Ofthe grandeur and sudlimity of this scene, and of the emotions with which it fills the soul, I am utterly unable to speak. The Traveller having reached his place of destination, examines his bag, and finding that Number Nine has deposited the most count- ers, he is considered to have won the game and is entitled to. be the Traveller in the next game. The Lawyer. THE company must form in two rows, opposite to and facing ‘ach other, leaving room for the Lawyer to pass up and down Jetween them. T am much indebted to my received ; which one will give me an account of my <4 oe ra ss western porde?z bat Ou miles in length, running from. Lake Erie oe S ee iis a y, ond ee ee nae so".Re ES AP IEW TEA Pye ud asa ahaha) ew Mr St a aed een kal 2 BN ENS ENN NTT rane ea uaa ts a a LPN dha OS ba i : : i © - , a: : : ; ae 5 = [e & q es = F? BY ki S ox 3 # & = ates the Lawyer will ask a question or ad- 226 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE When all are seated, the one who petson- iyess a remark to one of the persons present, Ather standing before the person addressed, og calling his name. The one spoken to is vot to answer, but the one sitting opposite « him must reply to the question. ‘The ob- tect of the Lawyer is to make either the one ‘se speaks to answer him, or the one that chould answer to keep silent; therefore he ould be quick in hurrying from one to an- sther with his questions, taking them by varprise, and noticing those who are the most inattentive. No one rust be allowed to remind another of his turn to speak. When the Lawyer has succeeded in either making one speak that should not, or find- ing any that did not answet when they } 4 should, they must exchange places with eacl 1 he “tne T AwK7er other, and the one caught becomes Lawyet This game will be found quite amusing if J eanducted with spirit oe ee > oA ee ae er The Sorcerer Behina tre screech. nore The players conceal behind a screeti, of sehind the door of an adjacent chamber, the eae of their number from whom they wish ‘c obtain forfeits. ‘The rest of the company place themselves out of his sight, and the one who leads the game calls out to him— “ Are you there? Are you ready?” ‘Yes, begin !”-—-“ De you know Miss —-——?” (nam: ing one of the ladies of the company) ‘Yés.” “Do you know her dress?” Ves —— | “Her shawl? ‘Yes.”-—“‘Do you know her slippers?” ‘Yes,%—~“Her collar?” “Yes."— } Her gloves?” “Ves, 2“ And her ring?” éYes.—“You know then everything that she wears?” ‘Yes,”-—-“ Her belt?” “Yes,” | i pc an mn NE IT ET Her fan?” =“ Yes.’ The questioner adds as many articles of ‘ dress as he pleases, or changes them at his | a4 4 <5, a: +} <— 3 TIT € } § a 33 pleasure. ‘The other atways answers, “Yes.” i say, “You touch Miss AND DOMESTIC LIFE “Since you know her so well, tell: me wha! article of her dress I touch?” £ the sorcerer has not been fet into the secret before the commencement of the game, he, of course, names a number of articles before he hits upon the right one. and he pays a forfeit for every mistake he commits: he pays a forfeit also when he names an article which the qnestioner has not meutioned, If acquainted with the game he would 'g ring,” because this is the only article before which the questioner has placed the conjunction “azd,” which is the word of recognition to the sorcerer instructed in the game. When any of the players acquainted with the game wish to impose por one of their !number, previous to selecting him they choose two or three sorcerers, who know the FG = as e Yattar C34 0r . seek i 2 gaine. ne fatter te€1g mn to mistake once Of twice to excite no suspicion, and as soon 4s the last one of them has guessed nightly (which he could have done at first if he had chosen), he names as his successot the poor dupe at whose expense they have previously agreed to amuse themselves The Pigeon Flies. This is a very simple game, Each one of the company places a finger upon a table, or : upon the lap of the leader of the game, and 5 + ° ‘each must raise his finger as soon as the leader says——“ Pigeon (or he may name any other bird) jZes.” If, out of mischief, he names any object that is not a bird, and any one of the players raises his finger by mistake, the latter pays @ forfeit, for he ought not to raise it exceps after the name of some bird or winged insect. This game teaches young people close attea- tion, quick perception and a knowledge af ornithology.CHAPTER . XTX Helps, Hints and Advice to the “ Qucen of the Household;” Cooking, Preserving, great value in the kitchen. All the receipts kere given are such as have been tried and proved. Beef Soup.—Select a small shin of beef f moderate size, crack the bone in small pieces, wash and place it ina kettle to boil, with five or six quarts of cold water. Let it boil about two hours, or until it begins to yet tender, then season it with a tablespoonful uf salt, and a teaspoonful of pepper; boil it one hour longer, then add to it one carrot, | two turnips, two tablespoonfuls of rice or pearl barley, one head of celery and a tea- spoonful of summer savory powdered fine; the vegetables to be minced up in smaii pieces like dice. After these ingredients have boiled a quarter of an hour, put in two | potatoes cut up in small pieces; let it boil half an hour longer, take the meat from the soup, and if intended to be oe with it, take out the bones and lay it ec tosely and | aeatly on a dish, and garnish st sprigs of | parsley. Serve made mustard and catsup with it. It is very nice pressed and eaten cold with | mustard and vinegar, or catsup. Four hours | are required for making this soup. Should any remain over the first day, itmay be heat. ed, with the addition of a little boiling water and served again. Some fancy a glass of brown sherry added just before being served. Serve very hot. LE, following collection of receipts for use in cooking has been gathered | of uncooked rice. from the best sources, and will be of Cleaning and Mending. Bou slowly, hardly above simmering, four hours, when the liquos should be reduced to half the usual quantity: remove from the fire. Into the tureen put the yolk of one egg, and stir well into it z teacupful of cream, or, in hot weather, new milk; add a piece of butter the size of a hickory-nut; on this strain the sou oD boiling hot, stirring all the time. Just at the la at, beat it well for a minute. Chicken Cream Soup.—An old chicken for soup is much the best. Cut it up into quarters, put it into asoup kettle with half | a pound of corned ham, and an onion; add | four quarts of cold water. Bring slowly ta a gentle boil, and keep this up until the | liquid has diminished one-third, and fe meat drops from the bones; then add half a c | of rice. Season san salt, pepper, & | bunch of chopped parsley. Cook slowly until the rice is tender, then the meat should be taken out. Now, stir 1% twe cups of rich milk thickened ie a littl. flour. ‘The chicken could be fried in a spoon- ful of butter and a gravy made, reserving some of the white part of the meat, chopping it and adding it to the soup. Ox-Tail Soup.—Two ox-tails, two slices n4 up ' of ham, one ounce of butter, two carrots, two turnips, three onions, one leek, one head , | of celery, one bunch of savory herbs, pen- per, a tablespoonful of salt, two tablespoon- fuls of catsup, one-half glass of port wine Veal Soup.-—Put a knuckle of veal into three quarts of cold water. with a small three quarts of water. Cut up the tails, separating them at the joints: wash them, and put them im a steve quantity of salt, and one smali tablespoonfiss ees ee eS ee ~~ ee fee Pe a ed -— ek ee es fa sbi ee bivnile ial om Oe ded ee Cosek Pe Pd eed uae SEO a a RD ak UT al a : : ft @ oo : ¥ } ' i R i ri hs x] BS Fs i P| B : re ¥ x 206 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. pan with the butter. Cut the vegetables in | slices and add them with the herbs. Put in quick fire till the juices are drawn. Fill up the stewpan with water, and when boiling, add the salt. Skim well, and simmer very gently for four hours, or until the tails are tender. ‘Take them out, skin and strain the soup, thicken with flour, and flavor with the catsup and port wine. Put back the tails, simmer for five minutes and serve. Another way to make an appetizing Ox- tail soup. You should begin to make it the day before you wish to eat the soup. Take two tails, wash clean, and put in a kettle with nearly a gallon of cold water; add a gmall handful of salt; when the meat is well one-half pint of water, and stir it over a cooked, take out the bones. Let this stand | in a cool room, covered, and next day, about an hour and a half before dinner, skim off the crust or cake of fat which has risen to the top. Add a little onion, carrot. 1 any vegetables you choose, chopping them fine first; summer savory may also be added Corn Soup.—Cut the corn from the cob, and boil the cobs in water for at least an hour, then add the grains, and boil until they are thoroughly done; put one dozen eats of corn to a gallon of water, which will be re- duced to three quarts by the time the soup is done; then pour on a pint of new milk, two well-beaten eggs, salt and pepper to your taste; continue the boiling a while | longer, and stir in, to season and thicken it | a little,a tablespoonful of good butter rubbed up with two tablespoonfuls of flour. Corn soup may also be made nicely with water in which a pair of grown fow!s have been boiled or parboiled, instead of having plain water for the foundation. Split Pea Soup.—One pint of split peas, previously soaked in cold water over night; wash in cold water and drain, add two-thirds | | | ~y of a medium-sized carrot sliced; one onion quartered, with a clove stuck into each piece; two ounces of fat salt pork cut into dice. Make a bouquet of the following herbs; one sprig of parsley, thyme, celery and one bay leaf tied together ; if not obtainable use one half teaspoonful of celery salt. Put on all to- gether over a brisk fire with three quarts of cold water. When it boils up, set back and allow to cook slowly about three hours of until done. Season with salt and pepper; strain and serve. Green Pea Soup.—Wash a small quartet of lamb in cold water, and put it into a soup- pot with six quarts of cold water; add to it two tablespoonfuls of salt, and set it over a moderate fire—let it boil gently for two hours, then skim it clear; add a quart of shelled peas, and a teaspoonful of pepper; cover it, and let it boil for half an hour; then having scraped the skins from a quart of small young potatoes, add them to the soup: cover the pot and ‘et it boil for half an hour longer; work quarter of a pound of butter and a dessert spoonful of flour together, and add them to the soup ten or twelve minutes before taking it off the fire. Serve the meat on a dish with parsley sauce over, and the soup in a tureen. Turtle Soup from Beans.—Soak ovet night one quart of black beans; next day boil them in the proper quantity of water, say a gallon, then dip the beans out of the pot and strain them through a colander. Then return the flour of the beans, thus pressed, into the pot in which they were boiled. ‘Tie up in a thin cloth some thyme, a teaspoonful of summer savory and parsley, and let it boil in the mixture. -idd a table spoonful of cold butter, salt and peppet. Have ready four hard-boiled yolks of eggs quartered, and a few force meat balls; add this to the soup with a sliced lemon, andnaif « glass of wine just before serving the soup. This approaches so near in flavor to the real turtle soup that few are able to distin- guish the difference. Philadelphia Pepper Pot.—Put two pounds of tripe and four calves’ feet into the soup-pot and cover them with cold water; add a red pepper, and boil closely until the calves’ feet are boiled very tender; take out the meat, skim the liquid, stir it, cut the tripe into small pieces, and put it back into the liquid; if there is not enough liquid, add boiling water; add half a teaspoon- ful of sweet marjoram, sweet basil, and thyme, two sliced onions, sliced potatoes, salt. When the vegetables have boiled until almost tender, add a piece of butter rolled in flour, drop in some egg balls, and boil fif- | teen minutes more. ‘Take up and serve hot. Macaroni Soup.—To a rich beef or other soup, in which there is no seasoning other than pepper or salt, take half a pound of small pipe macaroni, boil it in clear water until it is tender, then drain it and cut it in pieces of an inch length; boil it for fifteen minutes in the soup and serve. Turkey Soup.—Take the turkey bones and boil three-quarters of an hour in water enough to cover them; adda iittle summer savory and celery chopped tine. Just before serving, thicken with a little flour (browned), and season with pepper, salt, and a small piece of butter. This is a cheap but good soup, using the remains of cold turkey which wight otherwise be thrown away. Tapioca Cream Soup.—One quart of white stock; one pint ofcream or milk ; one onion; two stalks celery; one-third of a cupful of tapioca; two cupfuls of cold water; one table- spoonful of butter; a small piece of mace ; salt, pepper. Wash the tapioca and soak ever night in cold water. Cook it and the HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 220 stock together very gently for one hour, Cut the onion and celery into small pieces, and put on to cook for twenty minutes with the milk and mace. Strain on the tapioca and stock. Season with salt and pepper, add butter, and serve, Onion Soup.—One quart of milk, six largs onions, yolks of four eggs, three tablespoon- fuls of butter, a large one of flour, one cup- ful of cream, salt, pepper. Put the butter in a frying pan. Cut the onions into thin slices and drop in the butter. Stir until | tuey begin to cook; then cover tight and set back where they will simmer, but no burn, for halfan hour. Now put the milk on to boil, and then add the dry flour to the onions and stir constantly for three minutes over the fire; then turn the mixture into the milk and cook fifteen minutes. Rub the soup through a strainer, return to the fire, season with salt and pepper. Beat the yolks of the eggs well, add the cream to them and stir into the soup. Cook three minutes, stirring constantly. If you have no cream, use milk, in which case add a tablespoonful of butter at the same time. Pour over fried croutons in a soup tureen, This is a refreshing dish when one is fatigued. Pea Soup.—Put a quart of dried peas inte five quarts of water; boil for four hours and then add three or four large onions, two heads of celery, a carrot, two turnips, all cut up rather fine. Season with pepper and salt. Boil two hours longer, and if the soup becomes too thick add more water. Strain through a colander and stir in a tabiespoon- ful of cold butter. Serve hot, with small pieces of toasted bread placed in the bottom of the tureen. Noodles for Soup.—Beat up one egg light, add a pinch of salt, and flour enough to make a very stiff dough; roll out very ee Nad se - : ee ee ee pe ae ieee Pre ee ee rs a eee! CT ad lel s Se Lino = te gee lnWet ed ro me el raed nk jtal a be RR ONG EW NESE ET i. | fi : F 2 4 Po S: S 4 oe i t 3 ' e a f a Fy aa? bi Ei z : i ; ane COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE | butter, with one pint of water, and let thet. 2 thin, like thin pie crust, dredge with flour to keep from sticking. Sread board to dry for an hour or more; then soll it up into a tight scroll, hke a Begin at the end an id slice it into After all are cut, nd te prevent Let it rem sheet Ol music. slips as thin as straws. mix them lightly together, at them sticking, keep thet until you are ready to drop them into your soup, which shouid be dorie shortly before dinner, for if boiled eo ong they will go to pieces. Force-Meat a for Soup.--One cup- S31 of cocked veal or fowl meat, miziced ; mix with this a eg of fine bread-crumbs, the yolks of four hard-boiled eggs smooth together with a table sspoonful of milk; season with peppet and salt; adda half teaspoonful of flour, and b id oo together with two beaten eggs; the h oe o be well > lit- drop into the floured, and the mixture to be made into tle balls the size of a nutmeg ; soup about twenty minutes before serving. Ege Balls for Soup.—Take the yolks ot | six hard-boiled eggs and half a tablespoon- ful of wheat flour, rub a nooth with the yolks of two raw eggs and a teaspoonful of salt; mix all well together; make 1t in 4 balls, and drop the few minutes before taking it up. ? m into the boiling soup a Used in green tut ‘tle soup. Vermicelli Soup —Swell sound of vermicelli in a quart of wa then add it to a good beef, veal, lamb, or chicken soup or pound of swee a quarter of a "4" tin Wa iter, rags t butter; let the soup boil for *fcen minutes after it is added. Spring Vegetable Soup.—Half pint green peas, two shredded lettuces, one orion, a small bunch of parsley, two ounces butter, the yolks of three ‘ | 344 x Et 1 + . | aplatter, then cover with a drawn-buttelHELPS FOR (THE HOUSKHULD. gravy, andserve. Many cooks prefersoaking | the fish over nigh*, Scalloped Louster.—Butter a deep dish, and cover fhe bottom with fine bread erumbs; put on this a layer of chopped lobster, with pepper and salt; so on altern- ately until the dish is filled, having crumbs ontop. Put on bits of butter, moisten with milk, and bake about twenty minutes. Baked Crabs.—Mix with the contents of acan of crabs, bread-crumbs or pounded | erackers. Pepper and salt the whole to taste; mince some cold ham; have the poe ing-pan well buttered, place therein first a Jayer of the crab meat, prepared as above, then a layer of the minced ham, and so on, alternating until the pan is filled. Cover the jop with bread-crumbs and bits of butter, and bake. Deviled Crabs.—Half a dozen fresh crabs, oiled and minced, twe ounces of butter, one small teaspoonful of mustard powder; cay- enne pepper and salt to taste. Put the meat into a bowl and mix carefully with it an equal quantity of fine bread-crumbs. Work the butter to a light cream, mix the mustard well with it, then stir in very carefully, a handful at atime, the mixed ae a table- spoonful of cream, and crumb Season to taste with cayenne pepper and he fill the erab shells with the mixture, sprinkle bread- crumbs over the tops, put three smalt pieces of butter upon the top of each, and brown them quickly in a hot oven. They will pul in baking and will be found very mice. Half the quantity can be made. A crab- shell will hold the meat of two crabs. Crab Croquettes.—Pick the meat of Boiled crabs and chop it fine. Season to iaste with pepper, salt and melted butter. Moisten it well with rich milk or cream, then stiffen it slightly with bread or cracker- | erumbs. Add two or three well-beaten eggs ; 1more. j | 235 to bind the mixture. Form the croquettes, egg and bread-crumb them and fry them delicately in boiling jard. It is better te use a wire ae ket for croquettes of ai] kinds stUls. Fried Oysters.—Take large oysters frout their own liquor into a thickly folded napkin ‘to dry them ; then make hot an ounce eack of butter and lard, in a thick-bottom frying- pan. Season the oysters with pepper and salt, then dip each one into egg and crackers crumbs rolled fine, until it will take up no Place them in the hot grease and fry | them a delicate brown,. turning them on both sides by sliding a broad-bladed knife under them. Serve them crisp and hot. Some prefer to roll oysters in corn-me and others use flour, but they are much more crisp with egg and cracker-crumbs. Oysters Fried in Batter.—%4 pint of oysters, 2 eggs, % pint of milk, sufficient flout to make the batter; pepper and salt to taste ; when liked, a little nutmeg ; hot lard. Scald the oysters in their own liquor, beard them, and lay them on a cloth to drain thoroughly. Break the eggs into a basin, mix the flour with them, add the milk gradually, with nutmeg and and put the oy sters in a batter. Make some jard hot in a deep fynera put in the oysters, one at a time; when done, take them up with a aioe skewer, and dish them on a napkin. Fried oysters are frequently useé for garnishing boiled fish, and then a few bread-crumbs should te added to the flour. Lry Oyster Stew.—Take six to tweive large oysters and cook them in half a pint of their own liquor; season with butter and white pepper; cook for five minutes, stirring | seasoning, | constantly. Serve in hot soup-plates or bowls, Boston Fry.—Prepare the oysters in egg batter and fine cracker meal; fry in butter a Nea a ae Pan Fe ee — . re fe ad are ae _ ates POM MD ten dnton Se PN cea ak ad Pe ee eae il PT ee rdan oy Se mL ded els kek ngengieter: a etary ie aR aa ls a hE Serf tale OS bab ee ag ar ie oe ee et PA IS RA MIS PISS Sail al aS natal Bal NR a a PE FNS Nee Saeebc tat PASTS Sd Sk UL Ad ag ; 236 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. over a slow fire for about ten minutes; cover the hollow of a hot platter with tomato sauce; place the oysters in it, but not cov- ering; garnished with chopped parsley sprinkled over the oysters. Oyster Fritters. Select plump, good- sized oysters; drain off the juice, and to a cup of this juice add a cup of milk, a little salt, four well-beaten eggs, and flour enough to make batter like griddle-cakes. Envelop an oyster in a spoonful of this batter (some cut them in halves or chop them fine), then fry in butter and lard, mixed in a frying-pan the same as we fry eggs, turning to fry brown on both sides. Send to the table very hot. This is Del- monico’s receipt. Most cooks fry oyster frituers the same as ing hot; put in the batter by the spoonful let them fry gently; when one side is a deli: cate brown, turn the other. Clam Chowder.—The materials needed are fifty round clams (quahogs), a large bow! of salt pork, cut up fine, the same of onions, finely chopped, and the same (or more, if you desire), of potatoes cut into eighths or six- teenths of original size; wash the clams very thoroughly, and put them in a pot with half a pint of water; when the shells are open they are done; then take them from the shells and chop fine, saving all the clam water for the chowder; fry out the pork very gently, and when the scraps are a good brown, take them out and put in the choppeé onions to fry; they should be fried in 4 frying-pau, and the chowder-kettle be made erullers, in a quantity of hot lard, but this is | very clean before they are put in it, or the not always convenient; either way thev are excellent. Small Oyster Pies.—Fox each pie take a tin plate half the size of au ordinary dinner | plate; butter it, and cover the bottom with a puff paste, as for pies; lay on it five or six select oysters, or enough to cover the bottom; | butter them and season with a little salt and plenty of pepper; spread over this an egg batter, and cover with a crust of the paste, making small openings in it with a fork. Bake ia a hot oven fifteen to twenty minutes, or until the top is nicely browned. Clam Fritters.—Take fifty smal or twenty-five large sand clams from their shells; if large, cut each in two, lay them on a thickly folded napkin; put a pint bowl of wheat flour into a basin, add to it three well-beaten eggs, half a pint of sweet milk, and nearly as much of their own liquor; beat the batter until it is smooth and per- fectly free from lumps; then stir in the clains. Put plenty of lard or beef fat into a thick-bottomed frying-pan, let i. become boil- | chowder will burn. (The chief secret in chowder-making is to fry the onions s¢ delicately that they will be missing in the chowder. ) Roast Turkey.—Select a young turkey; ‘remove all the feathers carefully, singe it over a burning newspaper on the top of the stove; then “draw” it nicely, being very careful not to break any of the internal ot- gans; remove the crop carefully; cut off the head, and tie the neck close to the body by drawing the skin over it. Nowrinse the in- side of the turkey out with several waters, and in the next to the last, mix a teaspoon- ful of baking soda; oftentimes the inside ofa fowl is very sour, especially if it is not fresh- ly killed. Soda, being cleansing, acts as a corrective, and destroys that unpleasant taste which we frequently experience in the drex sing when fowls have been killed for some time. Now, after washing, wipe the turkey dry, inside and out, with a clean cloth, rub | the inside with some salt, then stuff the breast and body with “ Dressing for Fowls.”’Then sew up the turkey with a strong thread, tie the legs and wings to the body, rub it over with a little soft butter, sprinkle over some salt and pepper, dredge with a little flour; place it in a dripping pan, pour in a cup of boiling water, and set it in the oven. Baste the turkey often, turning it around occa- sionally so that every part will be uniformly baked. When pierced with a fork and the figquid runs out perfectly clear, the bird is done. Ifany part is likely to scorch, pin over it a piece of buttered white paper. A fifteen-pound turkey requires between three and four hours to bake. Serve with cran- berry satice. Gravy for Turkey.—Wher you put the turkey in to roast, put the neck, Feart, hier’ and gizzard into a stew-pan with a pint of water; boil until they become quite tender; take them out of the water, chop the heart and gizzard, mash the liver and throw away the neck; return the chopped heart, gizzard and liver to the liquor in which they were | stewed; set it to one side, and when the turk- ey is done it should be added to the gravy that dripped from the turkey, having first skimmed off the fat from the surface of the dripping-pan; set it all over the fire, boil three minutes and thicken with flour. It will not need brown flour to color the gravy. The garnishes for turkey or chicken are fried oysters, thin slices of ham, slices of lemon, fried sausages, or force-meat balls, also parsley. Dressing or Stuffing for Fowls.—For an right or ten pound turkey, cut the brown erust from slices or pieces of stale bread antil you have as much as the inside of a pound loaf; put it intoa suitable dish, and HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 227 with both hands, placing ir, as you go alongs in another dish; this process makes it very light. When all is pressed dry, toss it all up lightly through your fingers; now add pepper, salt,—about a teaspoonful—also a teaspoonful of powdered summer savory, the same amount of sage, or the green herb minced fine; add half a cup of melted butter, and a beaten egg, ornot. Work thoroughly all together, and it is ready for dressing either fowls, fish or meats. A little chopped sausage in turkey dressing is considered by some an improvement, when well incorpor- ated with the other ingredients. For geese and ducks the stuffing may be made the same as for turkey with the addition of a few slices of onion chopped fine. Broiled Chicken on Toast.—Broil the usual way, and when thoroughly done take it up in a square tin or dripping-pan, butter it well, season with pepper and salt, and set | it in the oven for a few minutes. Lay slices of moistened buttered toast or a platter; take the chicken up over it, add to the | gravy in the pan part of a cupful of cream, | if you have it; if not, use milk. Thicken | with a little flour and pour over the chicken. ‘This is considered most excellent. | Stewed Duck.—Prepare them by cutting them up the same as chicken for fricassee. | Lay two or three very thin slices of salt pork upon the bottom of a stew-pan; lay pieces of duck upon the pork. Let them stew slowly for an hour, closely covered. Then season with salt and pepper, half a tea- spoonful of powdered sage, or some green sage minced fine; one chopped onion. Stew another half hour until the duck is tender. Stic up a large tablespoonful of brown flour pour tepid water (not warm, for that makes it heavy) over it; let it stand one minute, as it soaks very quickly. Now take up a hand- fal ata time and squeeze it hard and dry in a little water and add it tothe stew. Let it boil up, and serve all together in one dish, accompanied with green peas. Duck Pie.—Cut all the meat from cold ey ne ee Saal Pn Te ee eee Sn Se ee tha he Cao . . oe a a - P ieee a ‘ “ ae " 5 Se ae > eat aae ee, FE Ley ek Lisa al sane tcarel- ote Lhd lesa aval Dae Ye etetaeake ds Ee AA NAL eee nO Zo ie Peis Se ai ie ad ak 0 rae + a : > : Pe * e. rf i 2 : ceo by : i ‘ & os a Bs e 5 a BS ES y i = Ps $ e 3 4 t ) A 2238 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. goast ducks ; put the bones and stuffing into eold water: cover them aud let boil; put the meat into a deep dish; pour on stack of the stock made od m eover with pastry slit knife, and bake a light brown. Canvas-back Duck.—The epicurean tast declares that this special kind of bird re- the bones to moisten 5 i q ae Loy hy the centre with a ' & gitires no spices or flavors to make it perfect, as the meat partakes of the flavor of the food that the bird feeds upon, being m ostly wild celery; and the delicious flavor is best preserved when roasted quickly with a hot fre. After dressing the duck in the usual way, by plucking, singeing, drawing, wipe it with a wet towel, truss the head niet the ' wing; place it in a dripping-pan, put it in the oven, basting often, and roast it half an hour. It is generally preferred a little underdone. Place it when done on a hot dish, season well with salt and pepper, pour over 1 eravy it has yielded in baking and serve it immediately while hot. Reed Birds.— carefully, salt anc roast with a quick fire ten or fifteen minutes. t the Pick and draw them very dredge with flour, and Serve on toast with butter ad pepper. You can put in Sutter and then in bread-crumbs before roast- each one an oyster dipped in img. ‘They are also very nice broiled. Roast Quail.—Rinse well and steam over boiling water until tender, then dredge vith four, and smother in butter; season with salt and pepper and thicken the sae telly, and garnis roast inside the stove ; ry: serve with green grape h parsley. iy aoe ae slags, Pheasants, Quails efully cut out all the shot, wash Bei only but quickly, using soda in the water ; rinse again, and dey with a clean elioth. Stuff them a sew them up. Skewer the legs and wings to the body, larder the hreast with very thin slices of fat salt por “i —ceemnenntinmanenpaanaenaia amie | place them in the oven, and baste with butter and water before taking up, having seasoned them with salt and pepper ; or you can leave out the pork and use only butter, or cook them without stuffing. Make a gravy of the drippings thickened with — browned flour. These are all very fine broiled, first split ting down the back, placing on the gridiron the inside down, cover with a baking tin, and broil slowly at first. Serve with cream OTAVy. aa Broiled Venison Steak.—Venison steaks should be broiled over a clear fire, turning afer It 1 requires more cooking than beef When sufficiently done, season with salt and pepper, pour over two tablespoonfuls of cur- rant jelly, melted with a piece of butter. Serve hot on hot plates. ty Delicious steaks, corresponding to the shape of mvtton chops, are cut from the loin. To Keep Meat from Flies.—Put in sacks with enough straw around it so the flies can- not reach through. ‘Three-fourths of a yard of yard-wide muslin is the right size for the ck. Puta little straw in the bottom, then put in the ham and lay straw in all arouns it; tie it tightly, and hang it in a cool, dry place. Be sure the straw is all around the meat, so the flies cannot reach through to deposit the eggs. (The sacking must be done early in the season before the fly appears.) Muslin lets the air in and is much better than paper. ‘Thin muslin is as good as thick, and will last for years if washed and laid away when emptied. Roast Beef.—One very essential point in roasting beer is to have the oven well heated when the beef is first put in; this causes the pores to close up quickly, and prevents the escape of the juices. Take a rib piece or lein roast of seven oFeight pounds. Wipe it thoroughly all over with a clean wet towel. Lay it in a drip- ping-pan, and baste it well with butter or suet fat. Set it in the oven. Baste it fre- | quently with its own drippings. which will make it brown and tender. When partly done, season with salt and pepper, as it hardens any meat to salt it when raw, and draws out its juices, then dredge with sifted flour to give it a frothy appearance. It will take a roast of this size about two hours’ time to be properly done, leaving the inside a little rare or red—half an hour less would make the inside quite rare. Remove the beef to a heated dish, set where it will keep mot; then skim the drippings from all fat, add a tablespoonful of sifted flour, a little pepper and a teacupful of boiling water. Boil up once and serve hot in a gravy boat. Beefsteak.—Take a smooth, thick-bot- zomed frying-pan, scald it out with hot water, aud wipe it dry; set it on the stove or range, and when very hot, rub it over the bottom with a rag dipped in butter; then place your steak or chops in it, turn often until cooked through, take ap on a warm platter, and season both sides with salt, pepper and but- ter. Serve hot. Many prefer this manner. cooking steak tather than broiling or frying in a quantity of grease. Beefsteak and Onions.—Prepare the steak in the usual way. Have ready in a frying pan a dozen onions cut in slices and fried brown in a little beef drippings or butter. Dish your steak, and lay the onions thickly over the top. Cover and let stand five minutes, then send to the table hot. Beefsteak and Oysters.—Broil the steak the usual way. Put one quart of oysters with very little of the liquor into a stew-pan mpon the fire; when it comes to a boil, take aff the scum that may rise, stir in three | HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD, 230 ounces of butter mixed with a tablespoontul of sifted flour, let it boil one minute until it thickens, pour it over the steak. Serve hot. “Spiced Beef.—For a round of beef, weigt. ing twenty or twenty-four pounds, take one quarter of a pound of saltpetre, one quartet of a pound of coarse brown sugar, two pounds of salt, one ounce of cloves, one ounce of allspice, and half an ounce of mace; pulver- ize these materials, mix them well together, and with them rub the beef thoroughly on every part; let the beef lie for eight or ter days in the pickle thus made. turning and rubbing it every day; the. tie it around with a broad tape, to kee it in shape; make a coarse paste of flour and water, lay a little suet finely chopped over and under the beef, inclose the beef entirely in the paste, and bake it six hours. When you take the bee! from the oven, remove the paste, but do not remove the tape until you are ready to send it to the table. If you wish to eat the beet cold, keep it well covered that it may retain its moisture. ‘This ig excellent. Roast Beef Pie with Potato Crust.— When you have a.wld roast of beef, cut off as much as will half fill a baking-dish suited to the size of your family; put this sliced beef into a stew-pan with any gravy that you may have also saved, a lump of butter, a bit of sliced onion, and a seasoning of pepper and salt, with enough water to make plenty of gravy; thicken it, too, by dredg- ing ina tablespoonful of flour; cover it up on the fire, where it may stew gently, but not be in danger of burning. Meanwhile there must be boiled a sufficient quantity of potatoes to fill up your baking-dish, after the stewed meat has been transferred to it. The potatoes must be boiled done, mashed smooth, and beaten up with milk and butter, as if they were to be served alone, and placed in 1 thick layer on top of the meat. Brush ny yee ee ee Le ad PS kee ars eT SERN ae oe od ee Ta ee Pe ei3iloa eee ee tal eee a eae Rab a8 anal .Sen Pee ce Ne ee tdi Le ak ee ah ad I oA! Sina alsa eB SO Sa aaa acd cae ak LI Sah elt bl sts H i 4 gf : A . ‘ ' - ; é 7 a Pi B : ; 240 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. ever with egg, place the dish in an oven, and let it remain there long enough to be prown. ‘There should be a goodly quantity of gravy left with the beef, that the dish be not dry and tasteless. Serve with it tomato gauce, Worcestershire sauce Or any other tnd that you prefer. A good, plain dish. Yorkshire Pudding.—This is a very nice accompaniment to a roast of beef; the in- wredients are, one pint of milk, four eggs, white and yolks beaten separately, one tea- spoonful of salt, and two teaspoonfuls of baking powder sifted through two cups of four. It should be mixed very smooth, about the consistency of cream. Regulate your time when you put in your roast, so that it will be done half an hour or forty minutes before dishing up. Take it fiom the oven, set it where it will keep hot. In the meantime have this pudding prepared. ake two common biscuit tins, dip some of the drippings from the dripping-pan , and some sweet herbs, all powdered and mixed ; after which pour over it slowly a teacup of good vinegar, cover tightly, and set in a cool place four or five days, turning it and basting often with the liquid each day. ‘To cook, put in 4 kettle a quart of boiling water, place over §t an inverted shallow pan, and on it lay the meat just as removed from the pickle: cover the kettle tightly and stew four hours. Do not let the water touch the meat. Adc a cup of hot water to the pickle remaining and baste with it. When done, thicken the liquid with flour and strain througl a fine sieve, to serve with the meat; also a relish of eurrant jelly, the same as ior venison. This is a fine dish when the directions are faithfully followed. Lamb Stew.—Cut up the famb into small two inches square. Wash it well and put it - over the fire, with just enough cold water to | cover it well, and let it heat gradually. It | should stew gently until it is partly done, then add a few thin slices of salt pork, one or two onions sliced up fine, some pepper and salt if needed, and two or -three raw potatoes cut up into inch pieces. Cover it closely and stew until the meat is tender. Drop in a few made dumplings, made like short biscuit, cut out very smail. Cook fit seen minutes longer. ‘Thicken the gravy | with a little flomr moistened with mitk. merve. Mutton Pudding.—Line a two-quart pud- reset eats some beef stuiet paste; fill the | 6 HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. ae lining with thick mutton entlets. slightly | trimmed, or, 1f preferred, with steaks ext from the leg; season with pepper and sait some parsley, a Jittle thyme and two slices o’ onion chopped fine, and between each layes of meat put some slices of potatoes. Whea the pudding is filled, wet the edges of the paste around the top of the basin, and covez with a piece of paste rolled out the size of the basin. Fasten down the edge by bearing all around with the thumb; and then with the thumb and forefinger twist the edges oi the paste over and over so as to give ita corded appearance. This pudding can be set in a steamer and steamed, or boiled. The time required for cooking is about three hours. When done, turn it cut carefully on a platter and serve with a rich gravy unde it, This is a very good recipe for cooking small buds Beef Hash.—Chop cold roast beef, «, pieces of beefsteak; fry half an onton in 4 piece of butter; when the onion is brows, | add the chopped beef; season with a little salt and pepper; moisten with the bee: pieces (after removing all the fat), say about | gravy, if you have any, if not, with sufficient water and a little butter, cook long enough to be hot, but no longer, as much cooking toughens the meat. An excellent breakfast dish. Smothered Beefsteak.—Take cz slices of steak from the upper part of the round o: one large thin steak. Lay the meat out smoothly and wipe it dry. Prepare a dress ing, using a cupful of fine bread-crumbs, halfa teaspoonful of salt, some pepper, a table: spoonful of butter, half a teaspoonful of sage, the same of powdered summer savory, and enough milk to moisten it ‘all into a stif | mixture. Spread it over the meat, roll it up carefully, and tie with a string, securing the ends well. Now fry a few thin slices of se# Ceca Nad ie a ee laine = a ee 40 el ee einai ee as Ph ene ee io. ees ee a 2ee een Pa R TEAR. 1 PSC aL aa tah ET SE aa Si a IE ne ed tal ohio Fee ennai Ey gene ae PI z Es &§ Ag 4 242 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. pork in the bottom of a kettle or sauce-pan, and into the fat that has fried out of this pork, place this roll or rolls of beef, and brown it on all sides, turning it until a rich color all over, then add half a pint of water, and stew untiltender. If the flavor of onion fs liked, a slice may be chopped fine and added to the dressing. When cooked suffi- ciently, take out the meat, thicken the gravy, and turn over it. T’o be carved cut- ting crosswise, in slices, through beef and stuffing. Roast Pig.—Take a young pig about six weeks old, wash it thoroughly inside and outside, and in another water puta teaspoon- ful of baking soda, and rinse out the inside again; wipe it dry with a fresh towel, salt the inside and stuff it with the prepared dress- ing; make it full and plump, giving it its original size and shape. Sew it up, place it in a kneeling posture in the dripping-pan, tying the legs in proper position. Pour a little hot salted water into the dripping pan, baste with butter and water a few times as the pig warms ; afterwards with gravy from the dripping-pan. When it begins to smoke all over rub it often with a rag dipped in melted butter. This will keep the skin from cracking and it still will be crisp. It will take from two to three hours to roast. Make the gravy by skimming off most of the grease ; stir into that remaining in the pan a good tablespoonful of flour, turn in water to make it the right consistency, season with pepper and let all boil up once. Strain, and if you like wine in it, add half a glass; turn it into a gravy boat. Place the pig upon a large, bot platter, surrounded with parsley or celery tops; place a green wreath around the neck, and a sprig of celery in its mouth. In carving, cut off its head first; split down the back, take off its hams and shoulders, and separate the ribs. Fresh Pork Pot-pie.—Boil a spare-rib, after removing all the fat and cracking the bones, until tender; remove the scum as it rises, and when tender season with salt and pepper; half an hour before time for serving the dinner thicken the gravy with a little flour. Have ready another kettle, into which remove all the bones and most of the gravy, leaving only sufficient to cover the pot half an inch above the rim that rests on the stove ; put in the crust, cover tight, and boil steadily forty-five minutes. ‘To prepare the erust, work into a light dough a smadi bit of butter, roll it out thin, cut it in small square cakes, and lay them on the moulding-board until very light. No steam should possibly escape while the crust is cooking, and by ne means allow the pot to cease boiling, and thus injure the flavor. Boston Pork and Beans.—Pick over care fully a quart of small, white beans, let them soak over night in cold water; in the morn- ing wash and drain in another water. Put on to boil in plenty of cold water with a piece of soda the size of a bean; let them come to a boil, then drain again, cover with water once more, and boil them fifteen minutes, or until the skin of the beans will crack when taken out and blown upon. Drain the beans again, put them into an earthen pot, adding a tablespoonful of salt; cover with hot water, place in the centre of a pound of salt pork, first scalding it with hot water, and scoring the rind across the top, a quarter of an inch apart to indicate where the slices are tobe cut. Place the pot in the oven, and bake six hours or longer. Keep the oven a moderate heat ; add hot water from the tea-kettle as needed, on ac- count of evaporation, to keep the beans moist. When the meat becomes crisp and looks cooked, remove it, as too long baking the pork destroys its solidity,Head Cheese.—Boil the forehead, ears and feet, aud nice scraps trimmed from the hams of a fresh pig, until the meat will almost drop from the bones. ‘Then separate the meat from the bones, put it in a large chop- ping-bowl, and season with pepper, salt, sage and summer savory. Chop it rather coarse- ‘ly; put it back in the same kettle it was boil- ed in, with just enough of the liquor in which it was boiled to prevent its burning ; warn it through thoroughly, mixing it well together. Now pour it into astrong muslin bag, press the bag between two flat surfaces, with aheavy weight on top; when cold and solid it can be cut in slices. To Cure English Bacon.—This process is called the “dry cure,” and is consid red far preferable to the New England or Yankee style of putting prepared brine or pickle over the meat. First the hog should not be too large or too fat, weighing not over two hun- dred pounds ; then after it 1s dressed and cooled cut it up into proper pieces; allow to every hundred pounds a mixture of four quarts of common salt, one quarter of a pound of saltpetre and four pounds of sugar. Rub this preparation thoroughly over and into each piece, then place them into a tight tub or suitable cask; there will a brine form of itself, from the juices of the meat, enough at least to baste it with, which should be done two or three times a week; turning each piece every time. Insmoking this bacon, the sweetest flavor is derived from black birch chips, but if these are not to be had, the next best wood is hickory; the smoking with corn-cobs imparts atank flavor to this bacon, which is very distasteful to English people visiting this country. It requires three weeks ora month to smoke this bacon properly. Saratoga Chips.—Peel good-sized pota- toes, and slice them as evenly as possible. HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD 2 243 Drop them into ice-water; have a kcitle of very hot lard, as for cakes; put a few at a time into a towel and shake, to dry the mois- ture out of them, and then drop them into the boiling lard. Stir them occasionally, and when of a light brown take them out with a skimmer, and they will be crisp and not greasy. Sprinklesalt over them while hot. Potato Croquettes.—Take two cups of cold inashed potato, season with a pinch of salt, pepper and a tablespoonful of butter. Beat up the whites of two eggs, and work all to- gether thoroughly ; make it into small balls slightly flattened, dip them in the beaten yolks of the eggs, then roll either in flour or cracker-crumbs ; fry the same as _fish-balls. This is Delmonico’s receipt. Potatoes a la Delmonico.—Cut the pota- toes witha vegetable cutter into small balls about the size of a marble; put them into a stew-pan with plenty of butter, and a good sprinkling of salt; keep thesauce-pan covered and shake occasionally until they are quite done which will be in about an hour. Fried Potatoes with Eggs.—Slice cold boiled potatoes, and fry in good butter until brown; beat up one or two eggs, and stir into them just as you dish them for the table do not leave them a moment on the fire af- ter the eggs arein, for if they harden they are not half so nice; one egg is enough for three or four persons, unless they are very fond of potatoes; if they are, have plenty, and put in two. Baked Sweet Potatoes.—Wash and scrape them, split them lengthwise. Steam or boil them until nearly done. Drain, and put them in a baking-dish, placing over them lumps of butter, pepper and sale; sprinkle thickly with sugar, and bak* in the oven te a nice brow?" Oe Nd Pee ke 5 pin Pe a eee Cede ober ember | eee 1 ire Sale oe a Pe eels a a ee eee re a ee rs Pe el aint Moattoalltn. Bro! - Saw = loee a ra eae Af PN a aa ah aR EAS Se es x Nae EES Gieaneetateeaioalss Ps) e & EA § ? B Bd Hubbard squash is nice cooked in the same manner. Onions Boiled.—The white silver-skins | Aste | or aslice of bread; boil till tender; take off, are the best species. ‘To boil them peel off the outside, cut off the ends, put them into cold water and into a stew-pan, and let them scald two minutes; then turn off that water, pour on cold water, salted a little, and boil | slowly til] tender, which will be in thirty or forty minutes, according to their size ; when done drain them quite dry, pour a little melted butter over them, sprinkle them with pepper and salt and serve hot. An excellent way to peel onionsso as not to affect the eyes is to take a pan /wl/ o *vater. and hold and peel them under water. L c I onions, and when quite done turn off all the water; adda teacupful of milk, a picce of butter the size of an egg, pepper and salt to taste, a tablespoonful of flour stirred to a cream; let all boil up once and serv> in a yegetable dish, hot. Onions Baked.—Use the large Spanish anion, as best for this puzpose; wash them clean, but do not peel, anc put into a sauce- pan, with slightly salted water; boil an hour, replacing the water with more boiling hot as it evaporates; turn off the water, and lay the onions on a cloth to dry them well; roll each one in a piece of buttered tissue paper, twisting it at the top to keep it on, and bake in a slow oven about an hour, or until tender allthrough; peel them; place in a deep dish, and brown slightly, basting well with butter for fifteen minutes; season with salt and pepper, and pour some melted butter over them. Fried Onions.—Peel, slice, and fry them brown in equal quantities of butter and lard or nice drippings; cover until partly soft, remove the cover and brown them; salt and pepper. 244 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. a] Cauliflower.—When cieaned and washed drop them into boiling water, into whick ycu have put salt and a teaspoonful of flour, drain; and dish them ; serve with a sauce spread over, and made with melted butter salt, pepper, grated nutmeg, chopped parsley and vinegar. Another way is to make a white sauce (see Sauces), and when the cauliflowers are dished as above, turn the white sauce over, and serve warm. ‘They may also be served in the same way with a milk, cream, or tomato sauce, or with brown butter. It is 2 very good plan to loosen the leaves | of a head of cauliflower, and let lie, the top Onions Stewed.—Cook the same as boiled downward in a pat: of cold salt water, to re: move any insects that might be hidden be tween them. Fried Cauliflower.—Bo.l the caul‘flowers till about half done. Mix two tablespvonfuls of flour with two yolks of eggs, then add water enough to make a rather thin paste; add salt to taste; the two whites are beaten till stiff, and then mixed with the yolks, four and water. Dip each branch of the cauliflowers into the mixture, and fry them in hot fat. When done, take them off with a skimmer, turn into a colander, dust salt all over, and serve warm. Asparagus, celery, erg-plant, oyster-plant are all fine when fried in this manner. Steamed Cabbage.—Take a sound, solid cabbage, and with a large sharp knife shave it very finely, Put it in a sauce-pan, pour in half a teacupful of water or just enough to keep it from burning ; cover it very tightly, so as to confine the steam; watch it closely, add a little water now and then, until it be- gins to be tender; then put into it a large tablespoonful of butter; salt and pepper to taste, dish it hot. If you prefer to give itaHELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 248 tart taste, just before taking from the fire add | time the barrel has to be opened it must be a third of a cup of good vinegar. Ladies’ Cabbage—Boil a firm white cab- bage fifteen minutes, changing the water then for more from the bolting tea-kettle. When tender, drain and set aside until per- pectly cold. Chop fine and add two beaten eggs, a tablespoonful of butter, pepper, salt, three taolespoonfuls of rich milk or cream. Stir all well together, and bake in a buttered pudding-dish until brown. Serve very hot. This dish resembles cauliflower and is very digestible and palatable. Sour-crout.—Barrels having held wine or vinegar are used to prepare sour-crout in. It is better, however, to have a special barrel for the purpose. Strasburg, as well as all Alsace, has a well-acquired fame for prepar- ing the cabbages. ‘They slice very white and firm cabbages in fine shreds with a machine made for the purpose. At the bot- tom of a small barrel they place a layer of coarse salt, and alternately layers of cabbage and salt, being careful to have one of salt on the top. As each layer of cabbage is added, it must be pressed down by a large and heavy pestle, and fresh layers are added as soon as the juice floats on the surface. ‘The cabbage must be seasoned with a few grains of coriander, juniper berries, etc. When the barrel is full it must be put in a dry cellar, covered with a cloth, under a plank, and on this heavy weights are placed. At the end of afew days it will begin to ferment, dur- ing which time the pickle must be drawn off and replaced by fresh, until the liquor be- comes clear. ‘This should be done every day. Renew the cloth and wash the cover, put the weights back, and let stand for a month. By that time the sour-crout will be ready for use. Care must be taken to let the least possible air enter the sour-crout, and to have the cover perfectly clean. Each properly closed again. ‘These precautions must not ve neglected. This is often fried in the same mannet as fried cabbage, excepting it is first boiled un- til soft in just water enough to cook it, then fry and add vinegar. Scalloped Tomatoes.—Butter the sides aud bottom of a pudding-dish. Put a layer of bread-crumbs in the bottom; on them put a layer of sliced tomatoes; sprinkle with salt, pepper and some bits of butter, and a very “ittle white sugar. Then repeat with another layer of cruinbs, another of tomato, and seasoning until full, having the top layer of slices of tomato, with bits of butter on each. Rake covered until well cooked through, remove the cover and brown quickly. ~ Stuffed Egg-plant.—Cut the egg-plant in two; scrape out all the inside and put it in a sauce-pan with a little minced ham ; cover with water and boil until soft ; drain off the water; add two tablespoonfuls of grated cruinbs, a tablespoonful of butter, half a minced onion, salt and pepper; stuff each half of the hull with the mixture; add a small lump of butter to each, and bake fifteen minutes. Minced veal or chicken in the place of ham, is equally as good, and many prefer it. String Beans.—Break off the end that grew to the vine, drawing off at the same time the string upon the edge; repeat the same process from the other end; cut them with a sharp knife into pieces half an inch long, and boil them in just enough water to cover them. ‘They usually require one hour’s boiling; but this depends upon their age and freshness. After they have boiled until tender, and the water dozled nearly out, add pepper and salt, a tablespoonful of butter, and a half a cup of cream. Ce ad a Sa le ee ee ae ae a tee eG PR EH ve eal Po not = kee aerate246 Many prefer to drain them before adding the seasoning; in that case they lose the reai goodness of the vegetable, which is apt to be seasoned only in spots. Beets Boiled.—Select small-sized, smooth roots. ‘They should be carefully washed, but not cut before boiling, as the juice will escape and the sweetness of the vegetable be impaired, leaving it white and hard. Put thein into boiling water, and boil them until tender; which requires often from one to two hours. Do not probe them, but press them with the finger to ascertain if they are sufficiently done. When satisfied of this, take them up, and put them into a pan of cold water, and slip off the outside. Cut them into thin slices, and while hot season with butter, salt, a little pepper and very sharp vinegar. Baked Beets.—Beets retain their sugary, delicate flavor to perfection if they are baked instead of boiled. Turn them frequently while in the oven, using a knife, as the fork allows the juice to run out. When done remove the skin, and serve, with butter, salt and pepper on the slices. Succotash.—Take a pint of fresh shelled Lima beans, or any large fresh beans, put them in a pot with cold water, rather more than will cover them. Scrape the kernels from twelve ears of young sweet corn; put the cobs in with the beans, boiling from half to three-quarters of an hour. Now take out the cobs and put in the scraped corn ; boil again fifteen minutes, then season with salt and pepper to taste, a piece of butter the size of an egg, and half a cup of cream. Serve hot. Green Corn.—Green corn left over from dinner makes a nice breakfast disk, prepared as follows: Cut the corn from the ccb, and put into a bowl with a cup of milk to every eup uf corn, a half cup of Aeur, one egg, a COURTSHIP, MARRiAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. pinch of salt, and a little butter; mix well into a thick batter, and fry in small cakes ig very hot butter. Serve with plenty of butter and powdered sugar. Corn Pudding.—This isa Virginia dish, Scrape the substance out of twelve ears of tender, green, uncooked corn (it is better scraped than grated, as you do not get those husky particies which you cannot avoid with a grater); add yolks and whites, beaten sepas rately, of four eggs, a teaspoonful of sugar, tle same of flour mixed in a tablespoonful of butter, a small quantity of salt and pepper, and one pint of milk. Bake abeut half of three-quarters of an hour. Asparagus.—Scrape the stems of thé asparagus lightly, but very clean; throw them into cold water, and when they are all scraped and very clean, tie them in bunches of equal size; cut the large ends evenly, that the stems may be aii of the same length, and put the asparagus into plenty of boiling water, well salted. While it is boiling, cut several slices of bread half an inch thick pare off the crust, and toast it a Gelicate brown on both sides. When the stalks of asparagus are tender (it will usually cook in twenty to forty mirutes), lift it out directly, or it will lose both its color and flavor, and will also be liable to break; dip the toast quickly into the liquor in which it was boiled, and dish the vegetable upon it, the heads al! lying one way. Pour over white sauce, or melted butter. Asparagus With Eggs.—Boil a bunch of asparagus twenty minutes; cut off the tendet tops and lay them in a deep pie plate, butter jug, salting and peppering well. Beat up four eggs, the yolks and whites separately, to a stiff froth; add two tablespoonfuls of milk or cream, a tablespoonful of warm but ter, pepper and salt to taste. Pour evenly over the asparagus mixt te. Bake eighterinutes or until the eggs are set. Very | good. Green Peas.—Shell the peas and wash in cold water. Put in boiling water just enough to cover them well, and keep them from burning; boil from twenty minutes to half an hour, when the liquor should be nearly boiled out; season with pepper and salt, and a good allowance of butter; serve very hot. This is a very much better way than cook- ing in a larger quantity of water, and drain- ing off the liquor, as that diminishes the sweetness, and much of the fine flavor of the peas is lost. ‘The salt should never be put in the peas before they are tender, unless very young, as it tends to harden them. Stewed Green Peas.—lInto a sauce-pan of boiling water put two or three pints of young green peas, and when nearly done and tender, drain in a colander dry; -then melt two ounces of butter in two of flour; stir well, and boil five minutes longer; should the pods be quite clean and fresh, boil them first in the water, remove, and put in the peas. ‘The Germans prepare a vey palatable dish of sweet young pods alore, by simply stirring in a little butter with some savory herbs. Boiled Winter Squash.—This is much finer than the summer squash. It is fit to eat in August, and, ina dry warm place, can be kept well all winter. The color is a very bright yellow. Pare it, take out the seeds, cut it in pieces, and stew it slowly until quite soft, in a very little water. Afterwards drain, squeeze, and press it well; then mash it with a very little butter, pepper and salt. ‘They will boil in from twenty to forty minutes. Baked Winter Squash.—Cut open the squash, take out the seeds, and witbout paring cut it up into large pieces; put the pieces on tins or a dripping-pan, place in a moderately hot oven, and bake about an HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 247 hour. When done, pee: and mash like mashed potatoes, or serve the pieces hot ox a dish, to be eaten warm with butter like sweet potatoes. It retains its sweetness much better baked this way than when boiled. Vegetable Hash.—Chep rather coarsely the remains of vegetables left from a boiled dinner, such as cabbage, parsnips, potatoes, etc., sprinkle over them a little pepper; place in a saucepan or frying-pan over the fire; putina piece of butter the size of a hickory nut; when it begins to meit, tip the dish so as to oil the bottom, and around the sides; then put in the chopped vegetables; pour in a spoonful or two of hot water from the tea-kettle; cover quickly so as to keep in the steam. When heated thoroughly take off the cover and stir occasionally until well cooked. Serve hot. Persons fond of vegetables will relish this dish very much. Baked Mushrooms.—Prepare them the same as for stewing. Place them in a baking-pan, in a moderate oven. Season with salt, pepper, lemon juice, and chopped parsley. Cook in the oven fifteen nuinutes, baste with butter. Arrange on a dish and pour the gravy over them. Serve with sauce made by beating a cup of cream, two ounces of butter, a tablespoonful of chopped parsley, a little cayenne pepper, salt, a tablespoonful of white sauce, and two tablespoonfuls of lemon juice. Put in a sauce-pan and set on the fire. Stir until thick, but do not let boil. Mushrooms are very nice placed on slices of well-buttered toast when set into the oven to bake. ‘They cook in about fifteen minutes. Macaroni a la Creme.—Boil one-quarter of a pound of macaroni in plenty of hot water, salted, until tender; put half a pint of milk in a double boiler, and when it boils stir into it a mixture of two tablespoonfuls of butter and one of flour. Add two table. Po Ce eT md a es Se ee ae a eee Pe ee Oe Neer eee ieee fn ete tian ea snd > el alata nal De bt a248 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. spoonfuls of cream, a little white and cay- enne pepper; salt to taste, and from one- quarter to one-half a pound of grated cheese according to taste. Drain and dish the mecaroni; pour the boiling sauce over iy, and serve immediately. Unrivaled Yeast.—On one morning boil two ounces of the best hops in four quarts of water half an hour; strain it, and let the Hquor cool to the consistency of new milk; then put it in an earthen bowl, and add half a cupful of salt, and half a cupful of brown sugar; beat up one quart of flour with some of the liquor; then mix all well together, nd let it stand till the third day after; then dd six medium-sized potatoes, boiled and mashed through a colander; let it stand a day, then strain and bottle, and it is fit for use. It must be stirred frequently while it is making, and kept near a fire. One ad- vantage of this yeast is its spontaneous fer- mentation, requiring the help of no old yeast; if care be taken to let it ferment well in the bowl, it may immediately be corked tightly. Be careful to keep it in a cool place. Before using it shake the bottle up well. It will keep ia a cool place two months, and is best the latter part of the time. Use about the same quan‘xy as of other yeast. Graham Bread.—One teacupful of whea‘ flour, one-half teacupful of Porto Rico imo- lasses, one-half cupful of good yeast, one tea- spoonful of salt, one pint of warm water; add sufficient Graham flour to make the dough as stiff as can be stirred with a strong spoon; this is to be mixed at night; in the morn- mg, add one teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little water; mix well, and pour into two medium-sized pans; they will be about half full; let it stand in a warm place until This should be covered about twenry minutes when first put into the oven with a thick brown paper, or an old tin cover; it prevents the upper crust hardening before the loaf is well-risen. If these directions are correctly followed the bread will not be heavy or sodden, as it has been tried for yearg and never failed. Stewed Carrots.—Wash and scrape the carrots, and divide them into strips; put them into a stew-pan with water enough to cover them; add a spoonful of salt, and let them boil slowly until tender; then drain and replace them in the pan, with two table. spoonfuls of butter rolled in flour, shake over a little pepper and salt, then add enough cream or milk co moisten the whole: let it come to a boil and serve hot. 7 Boston Bruwn Bread.—One pint of rye flour, one quart of corn-meal, one teacupful of Graham flour, all fresh; half a teacupful of molasses or brown sugar, a teaspoonful of salt, and two-thirds of a teacupful of home- made yeast. Mux into as stiff a dough as can be stirred with a spoon, using warm water for wetting. Let it rise several hovrs, or over night; in the morning, or when light, add a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a spoonfui of warm water; beat it well and turn it into well-greased, deep, bread-pans, and let it rise again. Bake in a moderate oven from three to four hours. Boston Brown Bread. (Unfermented)— One cupful of rye flour, two cupfuls of corn- meal, one cupful of white flour, half a tea- cupful of molasses or sugar, a teaspoonful of salt. Stir all together ¢horoughly, and wet up with sour milk; then add a level tea- spoonful of soda dissolved in a tablespoon. ful of water. The same can be made of sweet muik, by substituting baking-powder it rises to the top of the pans, then bake one hour in a pretty hot oven. poner? for soda. The batter to be stirred thick with a spoon. and turned into well-greased pans,Virginia Brown Bread.—One pint of corn-meal, pour over enough boiling water to thoroughly scald it; when cool, add one pint of light, white bread sponge, mix well together, add one cupful of molasses, and Graham flour enough to mold; this will make two loaves; when light bake in 2 moderate oven one and a half hours. Rye Bread.—To a q ‘art of warm water stir as much wheat flour as will make a smooth batter; stir into it half a gill of home-made yeast, and set it in a warm place to rise; this is called setting a sponge ; let it be mixed in some vessel which will contain twice the quantity; in the morning, put three pounds and a half of rye flour into a bowl or tray, make a hollow in the centre, pour in the sponge, add a dessertspoonful of salt, and half a small teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little water ; make the whole into a smooth dough, with as much warm water as may be necessary; knead it well, cover it, and let it set in a warm place for three hours; then knead it again, and make it into two or three loaves ; bake in a quick oven one hour, if made in two loaves, or less if the loaves are smaller. Rye and Corn Bread.—One quar. o* tye meal or rye flonr, two quarts of Indian meal, scalded (by placing in a pan and pouring over it just enough dozing water to merely wet it, but not enough to make it into a batter, stirring constantly with a spoon), one-half cup of molasses, two teaspoontuls salt, one teacup yeast ; make it as stiff as can be stirred with a spoon, mixing with warm water, and let rise all night. In the morn- ing add a level teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a little water; then put it in a large pan, smooth the top with the hand dipped in cold water; let it stand a short time, and bake five or six hours. If put in the even late in the day, let it remain all night HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 249 Graham may be used instead of rye, and baked as above. Both are considered diges- tible and very healthful. This is similar to the “Rye and Injun” of our grandmothers’ day, but that was placed in a kettle, allowed to rise, then placed in a covered iron pan upon the hearth before the fire, with coals heaped upon the lid, to bake all night. Boston Corn Bread.—One cup of sweet milk, two of sour milk, two-thirds of a cup of molasses, one of wheat flour, four of corn- meal and one teaspoonful of soda; steam for three hours, and brown a few minutes in the oven. ‘The same made of sweet milk and baking-powder is equally as good. Indian Loaf Cake.—Mix a teacupful of powdered white sugar with a quart of rich milk, and cut up in the milk two ounces of butter, adding a saltspoonful of salt. Put this mixture into a covered pan or skillet, and set it on the fire till it is scalding hot. Then take it off, and scald with it as much yellow Indian meal (previous! 7 sifted) as will make it of the consistence of thick boiled mush. Beat the whole very hard for a quarter of an hour, and then set it away to cool. While it is cooling, beat three eggs very light, and stir them gradually into the mix- ture when it is about as warm as new milk. Add a teacupful of good strong yeast, and beat the whole another quarter of an hour, for much of the goodness of this cake depends on its being long and well-beaten. Then have ready a tin mold or earthea pan with a pipe in the centre (to diffuse the heat through the middle of the cake), The pan must be very well-buttered, as Indian meal is apt to stick. Put in the mixture cover it, and set it in a warm place to nse It should be light in about four hours. Then bake it two hours in a moderate oven. When Por Ce eae er US) ad ae eer eee es We — ee el . te en ses PPP OPEL Le ~~ ” ee | 8 nalCe re ee RR REAR PID PSEC acs Ls oni ade anaes Seas abeiartge tac ie RC aA. et Sea Nas Pee a Esa eee : oF g : 2 E # ) .. E 250 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Jone, turn it out with the broad surface jownwards, send it to table hot and whole. Sut it into slices and eat it with butter. This will be found an excellent cake. If wanted for breakfast, mix it, and set it to rise the night before. If properly made, standing all night will not injure it. Like all Indian cakes (of which this is one of the best), it should be eaten warm. Johnnie Cake.—Sift one quart of Indian meal into a pan; makea hole in the middle and pour ina pint of warm water, adding one teaspoonful of salt; with a spoon mix the meal and water gradually into a soft dough ; stir it very briskly for a quartei of an hour or more, till it becomes light and spongy; then spread the dough smooth and evenly on a straight, flat board (a piece of the head of a flour barrel will serve for this purpose); place the board nearly upright be- fore an open fire, and put an iron against the back to support it; bake it well; when done, ent it in squares; send it hot to table, split and buttered. New England Corn Cake.—One quart of milk, one pint of corn-meal, one tea-cup- ful of wheat flour, a teaspoonful of salt, two tabiespoonfuls of melted butter. Scald the milk, and gradually pour it on the meal; when cool, add the butter and salt, also halfa cup of yeast. Do this at night; in the morning beat thoroughly and add two well-beaten eggs, and half a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a spoonful of water. Pour the mixture into buttered deep earthen plates, let it stand fifteen minutes to rise again, then bake from twenty to thirty minutes. Parker House Rolls.—One pint of milk, hoiled and cooled; a piece of butter the size of an egg; one half cupful of fresh yeast; one tablespoonful of sugar, one pinch of salt, and two quarts of sifted flour. ~ Melt the butter in the warm milk, they add the sugar, salt and flour, and let it rise over night. Mix rather soft. In the morn. ing, add to this half of a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a spoonful of water. Mix in enough flour.to make the same stiffness as any biscuit dough; roll out not more than 4 quarter of an inch thick. Cut with a large round cutter; spread soft butter over the tops and fold one-ha.f over the oth; by doubling it. Place them apart a ttle so that there will be room to rise. Cover, and place them near the fire for fifteen or twenty ~ minutes before baking. Bake in rather a quick oven. Sally Luna.—Warm one-half cupful of butter in a pint of milk; add a teaspoonful of salt, a tablespoonful of sugar, and seven cupfuls of sz/fed flour; beat thoroughly, ana when the mixture is blood warm, add four beaten eggs, and last of all, half a cup of good lively yeast. Beat har? until the bat- ter breaks in blisters. Set it to rise over night. In the morning, dissolve half a tea- spoonful of soda, stir it into the batter and turn it into a well-buttered, shallow dish to rise again about fifteen or twenty minutes, Bake about fifteen or twenty minutes. The cake should be torn apart, not cut; cutting with a knife makes warm bread 3ake a light brown. ‘This cake is frequently seen on Southern tables. heavy. London Hot-Cross Buns.—Three cups of milk, one cup of yeast, or one cake of com- pressed yeast dissolved in a cup of tepid water, and flour enough to make a thick batter; set this as a sponge over night. In the morning, add half a cup of melted but- ter, one cup of sugar, half a nutmeg grated, one saltspoonful of salt, half a teaspoonful of soda, and flour enough to roll out lke bis- cuit. Knead well and set to rise for five hours. Roll the dough half an inchunick; cut in round cakes, and lay in rows in a buttered baking-pan, and let the cakes stand half an hour; or until light; then put them in the oven, having first made a deep cross on each with a knife. Bake a light brown, and brush over with white of egg beaten stiff with powdered sugar. Rusks.—Two cups of raised dough, one of sugar, half a cup of butter, two well- beaten eggs, flour enough to make a stiff dough; set to rise, and when light, mold into high biscuit, and let rise againi; rub damp sugar and cinnamon over the top and place in the oven. minutes. Scotch Scones.—Thoroughly mix, while dry, one quart of sifted flour, loosely meas- ared, with two heaping teaspoonfuls of bak- ing powder; then rub into it a tablespoonful of cold butter, and a teaspoonful of salt. Be sure that the butter is well workedin. Add sweet milk enough to make a very soft paste. Roll out the paste about a quarter of an inch thick, using plenty of flour on the paste- board, and rolling-pin. Cut it into triangu- lar pieces, each side about four inches long. Flour the sides and bottom ofa biscuit-tin, and place the pieceson it. Bake immedi- ately in a quick oven from twenty to thirty minutes. When half done, brush over with sweet milk. Some cooks prefer to bake them on a floured griddle, and cut them a sound shape the size of a saucer, then scarred across to form four quarters. Cracknels. —T'wo cups of rich milk, four tablespoontuls of butter and a gill of yeast, a teaspoonful of salt; mix warm, add flour enongh to make a light dough. When light, roll thin, and cut in long pieces three inches wide, prick well with a fork, and bake fy a slow oven. ‘They are to be mixed rather hard, and rolled very thin, like soda erackets. Bake about twenty FU LPS, POR: Tris, HOUSEHOLD. 25% Raised Muffins. —Make a batter of one pint of sweet ntilk, one teaspoonful of sugar, one of salt, a tablespoonful of butter or sweet lard, and a half cup of yeast; add flour enough to make it moderately thick; keep it in a warm, zot hot, place, until it is quite light, then stir in one or two well-beaten eggs, and half a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little warm water. Let the batter stand twenty-five or thirty minutes longer to rise a little, turn into well-greased muffin-rings or gem-pans, and bake in a quick oven. To be served hot, and torn open, instead of cut with a knife. Corn-meal Muffins (Without Eggs).—One cup of flour, one cup of corn-meal, two table- spoonfuls of sugar, water to make a thick batter, or sour milk is better; mix at night; in the morning, add two tablespoonfuls of melted butter, and one teaspoonful of soda; bake in cake rounds. Hominy Muffins.--Two cups of boiled hominy; beat it smooth, stir in three cups of sour milk, half a cup of melted butter, two teaspoonfuls of salt, two tablespoonfuls of sugar; add three eggs well-beaten; one teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in hot water: two cups of flour. Bake quickly. Rice muffins may be made in the same manner. Graham Gems.—T wo cupfuls of Graham flour, one cupful of wheat flour, two tea- spoonfuls of baking-powder, a tablespoonful of sugar, one of salt, and one well-beaten egg. Mix with sweet milk to make a thin batter, beat it well. Bake in gem-irons; have the irons well-greased; fill two-thirds full, and bake in a hot oven. Will bake in from fifteen to twenty minutes. Continental Hotel Wafiles.—Put into one quart of sifted flour three teaspoonfuls of baking-powder, one teaspoonful of salt, one | of sugar, all thoroughly stirred and sifted Pore Cea me Nid eee Dip SN a PR ee a ha haa ee ae eer oe sitet MMB Torsion a ee ee eal eee a a en amelll4 ” x i y 4 ps ri a re ® . Ths 5 th Leal anal ee nd Ei Pl le «ig heel a myst th le Ae Ge Ey TOR GOL, TEEN TELA! LOR 8 OA A EL EO INE EE oe Mantes *~ or We” i a : re 5 i } bd Fi A z Fa > PA vy re 252 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. together; add a tablespooniul of melted butter, six well-beaten eggs, and a pint of sweet milk; cook in waffle-irons, heated and well greased. Serve hot. German Rice Waffles.—Boil a half pound ef rice in milk until it becomes thoroughly soft. ‘Then remove it from the fire, stirring it constantly, and adding, a little at a time, one quart of sifted flour, five beaten eggs, two | spoonfuls of yeast, a half pound of melted butter, a little salt, and a teacupful of warm milk. Set the batter in a warm place, and when risen, bake in the ordinary way. Pup-Overs.— Two cups of four, two cups of sweet milk, two eggs, one teaspoonful of butter, one teaspoonful of salt, bake in cvps in a quick oven fificen minutes. Serve hot with a sweet sauce. Corn-meal Griddle Cakes.—Scald two cups of sifted meal, mix with a cup of wheat dour, and a teaspoonful of salt. Add three well-beaten egos; thin the whole with sour milk enough to make it the right consist- ency. Beat the whole till very light, and add a teaspoonful of baking-soda dissolved in a, little water. If you use sweet milk, use two large teaspoonfuls of baking-powdes instead of soda. Golden-ball Fritters.—Put into a stew- pan a pint of water, a piece of butter as large as an egg, and a tablespoonful of sugai. When it boils, stir into it one pint of sifted flour, stirring briskly and thoroughly, Remove from the fire, and when nearly cooled, beat into it six eggs, each one beaten separ- ately, and added, one at a time, beating the batter between each. Drop the stiff dough mto boiling la-d by. teaspoonfuls. Eat with | meer syrup, or melted sugar and butter flavored, | Stirring the boiling lard around and Pine-Apple Fritters.--Make a hatter ¢¢ for apple fritters; then pare one large pine apple, cut it in slices a quarter of an inch thick, eut the slices in halves, dip them inte the batter and fry them, and serve them a¢ above. Strawberry Short-cake.—-Make a rule of baking-powder biscuit, with the exception of. a little more shortening; divide the dough in half; lay one-half on the moulding-board (half the dough makes one short-cake), divide this half’ again, and roll each piece laree enough to cover a biscuit-tin, or a latyesized pie-tin ; spread soft butter over the lower one, and place the other on top of that ; proceed with the other lump of dough the same, by cutting it in halves, and putting on another tin. Set them in the oven; when sufficiently baked take them out, separate each one by running a large knife through where the cold soft butter was spread. Then butter plentifully each crust, lay the bottom of each on earthen platters o1 dining-plates,; cover thickly with a quart of strawberries that have been previously prepared with sugar, lay the top crusts on the fruit. If there is any juice left, pour it around the cake. This makes a delicious short-cake. Peaches, raspberries, blackberries, and huckleberries can be substituted for straw- berries. Always send to the table with a pitcher of sweet cream. Orange Short-cake.—Peel two large oranges, chop them fine, remove the seeds, add half a peeled lemon, and one cup of sugar. Spread between the layers of short cake while it is hot. , Lemon Short-cake.—Make a rich biscuit | dough, same as above recipe. While bak- around, so that it whirls when you drop in | ing, take a cup and a quarter of water, a cup the fritters, causes them to assume a round | shape like balls, ~ and a half of sugar, and two lemons, peel, | juice and pulp, throwing away the tougs, ~~ eepart of the rind; boii this for some little ‘ime ; then stir in three crackers, rolled fine; split the short-cakes while hot, spread with butter, then with the mixture. ‘To be eaten warm. English Crumpets.—One quart of warm milk, half a cup of yeast, one teaspoonful of salt, flour enough to make a stiff batter; when light, add half a cupful of melted butter, a teaspoonful of soda, dissolved in a little water, and a very little more flour; let it stand twenty minutes or until ight. Grease some muffin rings, place them on a hot grid- dle, and fill them half full of the batter ; when done on one side, turn and bake the other side. Butter them while hot; pile one on another, and serve immediately. Gooseberry Jam.—Take some goose- berries that are not too ripe, pick them care- fully, and lay them at the bottom of an earthenware pan, and cover them with sugar. Keep on doing this until the pan is almost filled, and then add a pint of water to every six pounds of gooseberries. Put the pan in a moderately heated oven until the sugar is converted into syrup, and the con- tents begin to boil. Then remove the pre- served fruit, and put it while hot into small jars, which should be securely covered with several iayers of white paper. Gooseberry Jelly.—Bruise a quantity of gooseberries and pass the pulp through a somewhat coarse cloth, and add three-quar- ters of their weight of lump-sugar. Boil the fruit with sugar into a jelly, so thick that when a little is dropped vu a plate it will not adhere to it, and then strain it. Apple Cream.—Peel some apples, remove the cores, and cut them in tin’ sifees! > Fit them into a saucepan with crushed sugar, sliced lemon-peel, and ground ginger, with | a little red wine. Let them simmer until they become tender ; put them in a dish, and HMEUPS TOR the, HOUSEHOUD. 2 25% allow them to cool. ‘Then boil a quart e cream with some nutmeg, and add the apples to it, with a sufficient quantity of sugar te sweeten it. Lemon Lozenges.—Put a quarter of an ounce of gum tragacanth in a little water. Add to it some lemon-juice, and the peel cut in very thin slices. Stir them frequently for three or four days, until the gum forms a mucilage. ‘Then strain it into a mortar; nix with it a pound of powdered lump- sugar, taking care to add the sugar by small portions at a time, and not to put another portion in it until the previous one has thoroughly mixed with the mucilage. When a white and flexible paste has thus been prepared, roll it into a sheet about as thick as a halfpenny, and cut it into dia- monds with a knife or cutter. Arrange the lozenges on a plate, au.d dry them in a warm oven. French Mode of Cleaning Kid Gloves.—- The easiest and best way to clean a kid glove is to stretch it on the hand or on a stick, and then carefully rub it with a piece of moist flannel, on which a little powdered soap has been applied. When the dirt has been cleaned off the glove, the moisture is to be removed with a piece of dry flannel. Oil for Watches and Delicate Machinery. —Take apiece of sheet lead, scrape the sur- face perfectly bright, and introduce it into a bottle of the purest olive oil. The bottle is then to be exposed to the action of the sun’s light for some weeks, during which time it will deposit a quantity of mucilage on the surface of the lead. When it is found that the oil has deposited all the mucilage it con- tained, it is to be carefully poured off, and preserved in stoppered bottles. Oil thus prepared may be kept for years without turning rancid, or becoming thick when ex posed to the action of the atmosphere. ee ppd CRNA. DD ek ee ee ae id a ee ee ee aad vom, ee ed neem ears PN a aad Patni. Beele cot tase em el a AAS 2 SAORI LODE AE ASS ELLIE syne ines ke: ® ® x Ms u Ke # Bi By & P: i P hi rs Hi ; 254 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. To Clean Decanters and Water-bottles. When a water-bottle has contained hard water for a considerable time, it becomes coated in the interior with a deposit of car- bonate of lime, with any other matters that the water may have contained. ‘The easiest way of removing this is to add about a tea- spoonful of hydrochloric acid (spirit of salts), and rinse round the bottle with it. It will then be found that the instant the acid comes in contact with the deposit it imme- diately removes it, and forms a clear solution of chloride of calcium. ‘The bottle should then be rinsed in plenty of clean water. After a decanter has held port or other wines for a long period, a deposit of coloring matter will be thrown down on the surface of the glass. ‘This may be easily cleaned off by a little sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol). Remedy for Chilblains.—Sulphurous acid three parts, and glycerine one part, diluted with the same quantity of water. This fluid is particularly useful for allaying the intense itching with which chilblains are usually ac- companied. ‘The liquid is to be applied to the affected parts by means of a soft camel- hair pencil. Red Manifold Paper fcr obtaining Copies of Embroidery, cr other Patterns—Rub asheet of thin white paper with a smooth piece of red chalk, until every portion of its surface has been gone over. After- wards rub the loose powder, which has become detached from the chalk, into the substance of the paper with a piece of fine linen, and dust off any portions of powder that may still remain on its surface. To use this paper, it should be laid with the pre- pared side downwards on the sheet of white paper on which it is intended for the copy to appear. ‘The pattern is then laid on it, and its outline carefully gone over witha blunt a SA transfer the red powder from the maciifolé paper to the surface on which it rests. If this is carefuily done, with the requisite degree of pressure, when the manifold pape is removed a perfect impression of every line traced will be found on the paper on which it rested. If wished, a number of copies can be obtained by only once going over the pattern, provided as many sheets of manifold and white paper are arranged as there are copies desired. To Purify Neat’s-foot 0il.—This may be done by mixing the oil with an equal quan- tity of water, and placing them in a pan over the fire to simmer. Stir the oil con- tinually till it is entirely mixed with the water, then remove the vessel from the fire, and allow it to cool. When quite cold, re- move all the oil, which now floats on the surface, and again subject it to the same pro- cess with more water. If it is desired to employ this oil for the preparation of cold cream, it may be perfumed by using oranges flower or rose-water, instead of ordinary water. To Preserve cherries.—Boil them in thick syrup in a pan, and let them remain until the next day. ‘Then take them out, and put them in syrup that has been boiled down until it is ready to candy, and color them with some syrup of red currants, Cherries may also be preserved by another method. ‘Take equal quantities of crushed loafsugar and ripe cherries, previously stoned. Place some of the sugar at the bottom of the preserving-pan, place the cher- ries on it, and sprinkle more sugar over them as you place them in it. Then put the pan on the fire, and for each pound of fruit add half a quarter of a pint of red currant juice, and more of the sugar. Boil them fast ove ‘a good fire, frequently shaking the pan, but point, which must press gently on it, so asto } not stirrimg it, Skim the coutents, ard ye. }when the syrup has become sufficiently thick, pour the preserved fruit into jelly-pots. To Preserve Cherries in Bunches.—Select some cherries, and make them into bunches. Then boil them in a syrup, made with an equal weight of sugar, and the smallest pos- sible quantity of water to dissolve it. ‘Take the vessel from the fire and skim it, and let the cherries become cold. ‘Then place them in the syrup into a warm oven, and let them remain until next day. Afterwards take them out and dry them. Method of Making Cloth and Leatr.-r Waterproof.—The minute spaces between the fibres of the yarn, either of cloth, silk, or cotton goods, cause them to be pervious to water; therefore, these minute channels in c oth and the pores of leather must be closed up in order to make them waterproof. Many have been the means adopted and invented for the purpose, and some are quite simple enough to be adopted at home. One method is by immersion in a prepa- ration composed of 2 oz. of pulverized alum dissolved in I pint of distilled water; and 1 oz. of dry white-lead rubbed down in one pint of water. The two solutions are mixed and allowed to settle; the liquor constitutes the required agent. Another method by immersion: 1 oz. dry white-lead rubbed down in half a pint of water; 1 oz. of pounded alum dissolved in half a pint of water; mix, and add two fluid drachms of acetic acid, and allow to settle. When the cloth has been immersed in the liquor resulting from either of the above solutions, it is passed through a solution of quicklime, and a third time through a solu- tion of Irish moss, which acts as a mucilage. Waterproofing in the household may be easily managed thus: Boil half an ounce of Russian isinglass in a pint of soft water until dissolved; dissolve an ounce of alum in a HELES FOR Tih HOUSEHOLD: Wee 255 quart of water; dissolve a quarter of am ounce of white soap in a pint of water: strain these solutions separately through linen, and then mix them all together. Heat the liquid until it simmers, and apply it with a brush to the wrong side of the cloth on a flat table. When dry, brush the cloth lightly with water. This process renders the cloth impervious to water, but not to air, and is therefore a healthy mannez of rendering articles waterproof. To Render Leather Boots Waterproof.— Melt over a slow fire, one quart of boiled linseed oil; one pound of mutton suet; three-quarters of a pound of yellow beeswax; and half a pound of common resin; of smaller quantities in these proportions. With this mixture saturate the leather of new boots and shoes, having previously made them rather warm. To Preserve Bread for Long Periods.—Cut the bread into thick slices, and bake it in an oven, so as to render it perfectly dry. In this condition it will keep good for any length of time required, and without turning mouldy or sour, like ordinary bread. The bread thus prepared must, however, be care- fully preserved from pressure, otherwise, owing to its brittleness, it will soon fall to pieces. When required for use, it will only be necessary to dip the bread for an instant into warm water, and then hold it before the fire until dry, and then butter it, when it wil! taste like toast. This is a useful way ot preserving bread for sea voyages, and also any bread that may be too stale to be eaten in the usual way. Removing Ink-Stains.—As furniture, books, papers, and any other articles of value are liable to become disfigured by ink- stains, any information about the safesi means of removing them isof value. Owing to the black color of writing-ink depending COT Ceres ee ad th ee oo Pa ee ee eS ee Pee — a eae, ee eer a ee anal ano > Fain rn GU 3 - i inignenner es? PRIOR. DELS 2 aat i i é E i 4 ; A ; * . i { } - : | : : Ca A a a) ¥ nS y # ® ; f 4 F 256 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. pon the iron it contains, the usual method is to employ some dilute acid in which the iron is sotuble, and this, disso.ving out the iron, takes away the color of the stain. Almost any acid will answer for this pur- pose, but it is of course necessary to employ those only that are not likely to injure the articles to which we apply them. A solution of oxalic acid may be used for this purpose, and answers very well. It has, however, the great disadvantage ot being very poison- ous, and thus requiring caution in its use Citric acid and tartaric acid, which are quite harmless, are therefore to be preferred, espec- jally as they may be used on the most deli- eate fabrics without any danger of injuring them. They may also be employed tc remove marks of ink from books, as they do not injure printing-ink, into the composi- tion of which iron does not enter. juice, which contains citric acid, may also be used for the same purpose, but it does not succeed so well as the pure acid. To Remove Stains from Woollen Dresses —Make a thick rubbing of soap on a damp Temon- nail-brush. Spread the stained part cn a deai table. Scrub with the brush and a sprinkling of water till quite removed. Take a wet cloth and wipe off the s.ap. To Remove Ink Stains.—lf spilt or a table-cloth or carpet, take up quickly all you ean into a spoon, and throw it in a plate or sauicer, or any china article which will wash clean, or even in emergency on stout double brown paper. ‘Take a rag or coarse cloth, dip it in cold water, and squeeze it out. Rub the stain with it, and beyond the stain on al} sides, quickly and pleutifully, till every mark of the ink has disappeared. If very promptly done, no trace will remain. A second wet cloth may be used to finish with. Cloth table-covers are generally recovered this way. Almost any stain falling on a tabie-cloth, carpet, or hearth-rug cau. thus be removgy by prompt measures. Ink on Linen, Calicu, or White Muslin, = Immedictely lay the damaged part of the article in plenty of milk. Immerse it well. Let it-lic. ‘Then rub it well. Jet it le and rub it alternately all day. Only very hard rubbing will get it out, but every vestige may be removed. A French Method of Preserving Eggs.— Paint over the surface of the eggs with 4 thick mucilage of gum arabic in water This may be easily prepared by putting some crushed gum arabic inte a teacup, pouring boiling water over it; and allowing it to remain by the fire until dissolved. The commonest kind of gum arabic may be ems When the eggs ployed tor the purpose. eggs thus coated are dry, they should be kept ina box surrounded by a very dry powdered char- coal. When required for use, the gum may be removed by placing the egg in tepid water. Egg very fresh, kept at a regular and s intended to be thus preserved should be moderate temperature, and preserved from the contact of air and moisture. To Make Blackberry Wine.—Press out the juice from fully-ripe blackverries and let it ferment, being lightly covered over for 4 couple of days, when it requires to be skimmed, and a half quantity of water, to- gether with two or three pounds of raw sugar, added to each gallon of juice; aftes which it should remain for about a day an¢ a night in an open vessel, be skimmed aud strained, poured into a clean cask, and bunged up. A bottle of brandy added in It should re: main at least six months in cask, and then be bottled. the cask improves the wine How to Preserve Milk.—-Pour the miik into a bottle, and place the vessel up to its ueck in a saucepanful of water, which ksboil for a quarter of an hour. ‘The bottle is now to be removed from the water, and carefully closed with a good and tight-fitting cork, so as to render it as air-tight as possible. Milk which has been preserved by this pro- cess has been kept for more than a year without turning sour. Milk may also be preserved by putting a tablespoonful of horse-radish, scraped in shreds, into a panful of milk. When milk thus treated is kept in a cool place, it will be found to keep good for several days, even in hot weather. To Destroy Crickets or Beetles.- Put gome strong snuff in the cracks and! Dles from whence they come. The paring: of cucumbers will, if strewn about near their holes, drive them away. To Destroy Flies.—Strong green tea, sweetened well, and set in saucers about the places where they are most numerous, wilt attract and destroy them. ‘This plan is much to be preferred to the use of those horrible fly-papers, which catch the poor insects alive, cruelly torturing them whilst starving them to death. A Scratched or Defaced Table.—If a table is defaced or scratched, it may be sent toa cabinet-maker’s, and planed and repolished, which will make it look like a new one. Cleaning Bottles.—The fur from the in- side of bottles can be removed by putting in small pieces of brown paper in, cold water and shaking well about. Cleaning Knives.—Vinegar and fruit stains upon knives can be taken off by rub- bing the blades with raw potato, and then polishing on the knife-board in the usual matiner. A Cheap Substitute for Soap.—The leaves and flowers of the plant called soap- wort are sometimes boiled in water, and the liquid used instead of soap to wash clothes 7 HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. then to be put on the fire, and allowed to | 257 with, It acts through containing a large quantity of alkali. Pomade.—T wo ounces of lard, two ounces of olive oil, half an ounce of rose oil, and scent to fancy. A Hint on Baking.—A basin of water put into the oven with cakes or pastry will keep them fron. ourning. Te Remove Grease from Silk.—Lay the silk on a table, on a clean white cloth. Cover the damage thickly with powdered French chalk. On this lay a sheet of blotting-paper, and on the top a hot iron. If the grease does not disappear at once, repeat the process. To Remove Port Wine Stains.—If a glass of port wine is spilt on a dress or table-cloth, immediately dash all over it a glass of sherry. Rub vigorously with dry soft cloths. Ne stains will be left. To Clean Ladies’ Kid Boots.—Dip a rag in almond oil, and remove all the mud from the boot, a piece at a time, drying as you go, and never leaving the leather moist. Polish with clean rag and more oil. If you dislike the dulness this process leaves, when quite dry polish with the palm of the hand. Kid is thus both cleaned and preserved. Cleaning Copper.—When it is desired to obtain a clean, bright surface upon copper, it is customary, in all countries, to use nitric acid. In this way the desired surface is obtained with little trouble, and at once. There is, however, the objection that a con- siderable quantity of nitrous fumes are given off, and these red vapors are not only ex- tremely disagreeable, but are very prejudicial to health. ‘The production of these vapors may be avoided by adding a little solution of bichromate of potash to the dilute nitric acid. Experiment proves that this answers perfectly. The copper surface is brought out clean and bright, without any disengage- ment of vapors. On sanitary grounds, this ye ee 3 io The Rae ee ee nel tt eden oo Se Pr a. en eae Pe eee a od eae oo aeee hep ork ee ee LR ARS A IPSN Salsa Din as aati Sa Dic Sal eee : Fy } i i ) 253 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. method of operating deserves to become ex- tensively known. In the manufacture of copperware, a great deal of this cleaning is done, and the frequent exposure to the fumes cannot but be very injurious to the workmen. Cherry Brandy.—Put twenty-four pounds of ripe cherries, stoned, and four pounds of strawberries in a cask; bruise them well with a stick, and then add six pounds of sugar, twenty-four cloves, some cinnamon and nutmegs, together with the kernels of the cherry stones; pour over them three gallons of brandy. Let the cask remain open for ten or twelve days, and then close it, and Jet it remain for two months, when it will be fit for use Sparkling Grape Wine, or £nglish Cham- pagne.—Remove the stalks and decayed grapes, bruise the fruit, anci to every pound ptt one quart of cold water; let it stand ina convenient vessel three Gays, stirring it twice or three timesa day; then strain, and to every gallon of liquor add three and a quarter pounds of lump sugar; dissolve this as quickly as possible, and put the whole at once into the cask. ‘Ten days afterwards put into the cask to every five gallons of wine one pint of brandy and a quarter of an ounce of isinglass. ‘This should be bottled in champagne bottles, when the vines are in bloom the following summer, and the corks will require to be tied or wired down. ‘The grapes for making it should be tolerably but not fully ripe. Sweet Grape Wine.—Pick the grapes as above, crush and strain, and to each gallon { ee of juice add three and a quarter pounds of lump stgar; put it immediately into the cask, and bottle when the vines bloom the following summer. ‘The grapes should be fully but not over-ripe. Sparkling Green Gooseberry Wine.—Pick stalks and tails, and bruise the fruit in such a manner as not to crush the seeds; to every pound put one quart of water. This must be let stand three or four days, and be stirred three or four times a day; then strain, and to every gallon of liquor add three pounds of coarse loaf sugar. When this is dissolved put it into the cask, and to every five gallons of wine add one pint of brandy and a quarter of an ounce of isinglass. ‘The wine will gen- erally be fit to bottle in five months, but if 1 be found too sweet, and not clear, it may be allo v2d to remain longer. ‘The gooseberries shot 1 be taken when fully grown, but be. fore hey begin to turn ripe. Ripe Gooseberry Wine (Still).—Pick and bruise the fruit in a convenient tub or other vessel, and let it stand twenty-four hours} then strain, and return the skins and seeds to the tub, and pour on them tolerably hot water, in the proportion of one quart to every gallon of gooseberries; let this stand twelve hours, and then strain, and mix the water with the juice. ‘To every five gallons of this liquor add twelve pounds of lump sugar; let it ferment well in the tub, then skim off the head, and draw off as much of the liquor as will run clear; put this in the cask, and add to every five gallons two quarts of brandy. ‘To be in perfection it should not be bottled for five years, but it may be used, if necessary, at the expiration of twelve months. Currant Wine.—Bruise ripe currants wit their stalks, and to every fourteen pounds put eleven quarts of water. Let them stand twenty-four hours; then strain, add one pound of lump sugar to each pound ot cur rants, and stir twice a day for two days; afterwards put the liquor into the cask wita a pint of brandy to each fourteen pounds of fruit. ‘Three quarts of raspberries or straw- out the defective gooseberries, remove the } berries to each fourteen pounds of currantscurrant wine some persons add a few bitter almonds, pounded. Currant wines should not be bottled for twelve months, and will improve if left for a longer period. Ripe gooseberry wine may be made by the same formula, if desired. Strawberry or Raspberry Wine.—Bruise three gallons of either fruit, and add to it an equal measure of water; let them stand cwenty-four hours; then add two gallons of cider, eight pounds of lump sugar, the rind of a lemon cut thin, and one ounce of powdered red tartar. Put into the cask with one gallon of brandy. For raspberry wine a gallon of currant juice, substituted for a like quantity of water, will be an im- provement. Damson Wine. -To four gallons of dam- sons pour four gallons of boiling water in a tub or other convenient vessel; let this stand four or five days, and stir it every day with the hand; then strain, and to every gallon of liquor add three and a half pounds of lump sugar; when this is dissolved put the whole imto the cask. {t may be bottled in twelve months. Cherry Wine.—Same as damson, but as cherries are sweeter, three pounds of sugar only need be used to the above quantity. Many persons like the flavor of the kernels in damson and cherry wines; to give this, one-eighth of the stones should be broken, and infused with the iruit. Sloe Wine.—Same as damson, but four pounds of sugar should be used instead of three and a half to the above quantity. A considerable length of time should be given io the sloe wine in the cask, and it will be- come little inferior to port. HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. is considered an improvement. ‘To whzte | 259 let this stand five days, and stir each day; then strain off, and to the liquor add four pounds of lump sugar. Wher this is dis- solved put it into the cask with one lemon and one pennyworth of isinglass. ‘This will be fit to bottle in six months. Apple Wine.—To a gallon of cider (new from the mill) add a pound and a half of moist sugar, a quarter of a pound of raisins, and half a lemon; put in the cask as soon. as the sugar is dissolved. ‘This will be fit for use in two months. As the fruits or other v.zetable substances on which the foregoing wines are based con- tain a natural ferment, they will undergo that process spontaneously, and require no yeast. Those that follow will require yeast to make them ferment. Ginger Wine.—To six gallons of water put eighteen pounds of lump sugar, the rinds (thinly pared) of seven lemons and eight oranges, and eight ounces of ginger; boil the whole for an hour, and let it cool. When lukewarm add the juice of the above fruit and three pounds of raisins. Wout with yeast, and put it into the cask with half an ounce of isinglass. ‘This will be fit to bottle in six or eight weeks. Orange Wine.—Boil thirty pounds of lump sugar in ten gallons of water for half an hour,’ taking off the scum as it rises. When the water has become nearly cold, put to it the juice of one hundred Seville oranges, and - the peel of fifty; ferment with half a pint of yeast on a toast; let it stand twenty-four hours to ferment; then put it into the cask with one quart of brandy. When fermen- tation ceases stop it close for three months; then rack it off, and put it again into the cask with one quart more brandy and one Rhubarb Wine (Sparkling).—Cut five pounds of rhubarb into short pieces as for | tarts, and pour on them a gallon of water; \ and a half pounds of raw sugar. ‘This wilf be fit to bottle in twelve months. To Wash Silk.—Lay the silk smoothly ox x ' " o 4 . ~~ ee oe ee er aE aro BE WS SC eee CL A ees es 2 p SS ee eee eae . - ee etd ne ll audited ospick ee eae ea PIS SECU ae a ala ra A EOL ia tas Pa Eaaheetaheet areas os ; . we j 4 260 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. a clean board, rub soap upon it, and brush it with a rather hard brush. The amount of brushing requisite will depend on the quantity of grease upon the silk. When it has been sufficiently brushed with the soap to cleanse it from grease and dirt, it should be well brushed on both sides with clean cold water. A little alum infused in the last water with which the silk is brushed will prevent the solors from spreading. Should there be any patches of grease upon the silk, they should be removed as previously described, or by the application of a little camphine and alcohol. Folding or wringing silk when ret must be scrupulously avoided, as creases made in silk when wet will never disappear; and, in like manner, “ot suds must not be used for washing silks, as it will in most instances remove the colors. To Clean Colored Fabrics.—Nearly all colored fabrics stain the lather used to clean them, and that without losing their own brightness in any way. No article of a dif- ferent color must be plunged into a wash or rinse so stained, but must have fresh ones ; and no colored article must be rinsed in a blued lather. Scarlet is particularly prone to color a wash. Different colors are improved by different substances being used in the wash or rinse ; sugar of lead has the credit of fixing all eolors when first cleaned, and may be used to those likely torun. To brighten colors, mix some ox-gall, say two pennyworth ; but of course the quantity must be regulated by the quantity of suds in the wash and rinse. or buff and cream-colored alpaca or cash- ere, mix in the wash and rinse two penny- worth of friar’s balsam for one skirt. For black materials, for one dress, two penny- worth of ammonia in the wash and rinse. For violet, ammonia or a small quantity of soda in the rinsing water. ‘There are some violets and matuves that fade in soda. For ereen, vinegar in the rinse, in the proportion of two tablespoonfuls of vinegar to a quart of rinse. For blue, to one dress, a good handful of common salt in the rinse. For brown and gray, ox-gall. For white, blue the water with laundry blue. Dresses, mantles, shawls, opera-cloaks, under-skirts, Garibaldis and Zouaves, (the latter and such small articles need not be unpicked if the trimming is removed), articles embroidered with silk, selfcolored or chintz- colored, damask curtaining, moreen and other woollen curtaining, may all be cleansed as specified so far. Blankets should be cleaned in the same way. Pull them out well, whilst wet, af both sides and both ends, between two pet: sons. When half dry it is a good plan te take them off the line and pull them again; when quite dry, just give them a little more pulling out. This keeps them open and soft. Blankets are not blued so much as flannels, presently described. Never use | soda to them, and never rinse them in plain water or rub on soap. The dyers and cleaners have a mode of pressing articles which gives to many of them, such as damask and moreen curtaining and Paisley shawls, a superior appearance to anything that can be achieved at home’ but some of them will press articles at a fixed price for persons cleaning them at home. Worsted braids and fancy trimmings can | be cleaned the same way. Muslin dresses, even of the most delicate colors, can be cleaned in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, without losing their color. Melt half a pound of soap in a gallon of water; empty it in a washing tub; place near two other large tubs of clean water, and stir into it one quart of bran. Put the muss | lin in the soap, turn it over, and knead it fora few minutes; squeeze it out well, but do not wring it, lest it get torn; rinse it about quickly in the bran for a couple of minutes. Rinse again well for a couple of minutes in clean water. Squeeze out dry and hang it between two lines. A clear dry day should be chosen to wash muslin dresses; half a dozen may be done in this way in half an hour. The last rinse may be prepared the same way as the rinses for woollen fabrics. A colored pattern on a white ground must not be blued. ‘The bran may here be dis- pensed with. When the dress is dry make the starch ; for a colored muslin, white starch, and un- boiled, but made with boiling water, is best for muslin dresses. Stir the starch with the end of a wax candle. Dip the dress. Hang it again to dry. When dry, rinse it quickly and thoroughly in clear water. Hang it to dry again. Sprinkle and roll it up; after- wards iron it with very hotirons. Hot irons keep the starch stiff This rinsing after starching is called clear-starching ; none of the stiffness but much of the unsightliness of the starch is removed in this way. All kinds of white muslins, lace curtains, cravats, etc., may be washed in a thick lye of soap, as described, well rinsed, blued and starched, like the muslin dresses above named. Use blue starch to white. White muslin Garibaldis should be very slightly blued, and the same may be observed of beck-muslin dresses and cravats, as blue- looking muslin is very unbecoming to the complexion ; a slight creamy tinge is pre- ferable. Morning cambric dresses may be washed the same way as muslin dresses; but they do not generally clean quite so readily, and per- haps may need rubbing a little in places that are soiled. The advantage of thus cleaning dresses in- HELPS FOR THE HOUSEH( LD. 261 stead of washiig them is first, if colored, the process is so rapid that there is not time far the colors to run. Secondly, the fabric is not rubbed, and therefore not strained and worn out. ‘Thirdly, the process saves nearly all labor, and is so quickly done that any lady may manage it for herself in the absence oi a laundry maid or a ledy’s maid. Many ladies make a +trong solution of sugar of lead—some put two pennyworth in enough cold water for one dress; stir it well when dissolved, and let the dress, muslin ot cotton, soak a couple of hours to set the colors before washing it the first time. It does not need to be repeated. ‘Those using sugar of lead should be careful noi to do sa if they have any scratches, abrasions, o1 wounds about their hands. Chintz may be cleaned in the same way as muslin and print dresses. To Clean Black Silk with very Little Trouble and Expense.—Take entirely to pieces the dress, jacket, etc., and well shake each piece; then spread over a table a news paper, or sheet of clean paper, and on it lay a breadth of the silk. Brush it well both sides with a fine soft brush—a hat brush would very well answer the purpose. Shake it again; fold together in half, and place i¢ on one side of the table. In the same man- ner shake, brush, and shake again each piece of the silk. Remove the paper, and place on the table a clean newspaper or sheet of papet. Newspapers answer best ; they are large and smooth, and probably at hand. On the paper again place a breadth of the silk, and into a clean quart pudding-basin pour a half pint of cold water, adding halfa pint of zood sweetened gin, which is better for the pur: pose than unsweetened, as the sugar stiffens the silk. These are the proportions for any quantity required. Have ready a piece of black crape or black merino. about half a ye Cee ee Pe | el ae a Nd pteetnns eS Facies Meee eee . ee nl “ ee itil 5 “ PRD. ine tent ~ Bo ie es Pe ot ie x ™yard square ; dip it well into the yiquid, and thoroughly wash over the dest side of the silk. Becareful that it is well cleaned, and, if possible, wash it from edge to edge, and wet it well all over. ‘Then fold over the silk in half; then again, till the folds are the width of those of new silk. Place it in a elean towel, and clean each piece of the silk in the same manner, laying one piece on the other, and remembering by a mark which is the last piece done, as that must be the last droned. Let the silk lie folded in the towel until a large iron is well heated; but be careful that it is not zoo hot; try it first on paper, or a piece of old damped silk. Use two irons. Open the towel when the iron is ready, and place the piece of silk that was firstcleaned on an old table-cloth or sheet folded thick; iron the wrong side quickly, from edge to edge, until dry. Fold the silk over lightly to the width of new silk, and place it on one end of the table until all is done. ‘This simple process stiffens, cleans, and makes the silk look new. Directions for Cleaning Black Merino, or any Woolen Stuff, Black Cloth Jackets, Cloaks, or Gentlemen’s Clothes, etc.—Pur- chase, at a chemist’s, five cents worth of carbonate of ammonia. Place it in a clean quart pudding-basin, and pour upon it a pint of boiling water; cover it over with a clean plate, and let it stand to get cold. Having taken entirely to pieces the dress, jacket, or cloak, shake each piece well; then spread a large newspaper over a deal table, place one breadth of the material upon it, and brush it well on both sides with a fixe hard brush ; shake it again and place it on one side of the table, folded in half. Brush and shake én the same manner each piece folding and placing one piece on the other at the end of the table. When all are brushed, remove | i cA | 262 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. upon which place another, if thin. Lay upon the paper one breadth of the stuff, quite smooth and flat, the wrong side next the paper; then take a piece of black merino, about half a yard square; dip it im the carbonate of ammonia and water (cold), well wet it, and wash over the stuff oi cloth. If cloth, care must be taken te wash it the right way, so as to keep it smooth when well washed over, fold the material in half, and place it in a clean towel, laying one piece over the other, until all are done, Mark the last, as that will be the last to be ironed. Let the merino, or cloth, rest in the towel for about an hour; then iron the wrong side, after placing it on a thickly folded blanket, or sheet, with a thin sheet of paper, old glazed lining out of the dress, or piece of linen, over the blanket or sheet. Iron each piece on the wrong side until quite dry, and have two heavy irons, one heating while the other is in use. Fold over the pieces, the width of new merino, but be careful not to fold it so as to mark it sharply, especially cloth. Gentlemen’s clothes car thus be cleaned without taking to pieces, of ironing, unless quite convenient. Vest and | coat collars are thus easily renovated, the color is revived, grease spots and -white seams removed. To Renovate Crape.—Brush the crape well with a soft brush, and over a wde- | mouthed jug of dozing water hold tightly the crape, gradually stretching it over the jug of boiling water. If a strip of crape, it is very easily held tightly over the water, letting the piece done fall over the jug until all is completed. ‘The crape will become firm and fit for use, every mark and fold being removed. White or colored crape may be washed and pinned over a newspaper, of towel, on the outside of a bed, until dry, the paper and replace it with a fresh one, | Crape that has been exposed to rain or damgs=velis especially—may be saved from spoil- ing by being stretched tightly on the outside of the bed with pins, until dry; and no crape Should be left to dry without having been pulled into proper form. If black crape, lace, or net is faded or turned brown, it may be dipped into water, colored with the bluebag, adding a lump of loaf-sugar to stiffen, and pinned onto a newspaper on a bed. Washing Clothes.—If pipe-clay is dis- solved in the water, the linen is thoroughly cleansed with half the labor and fully a saving of one-fourth of soap; and the clothes will be improved in color equally as if bleached. The pipe-clay softens the hardest water. A cent’s worth to four gal- ions of water. To Keep Moths from Fur and Woolen Clothes.—In May brush fur and woolen clothes, wrap them ¢zghdly up in linen, and put them away in drawers. Pepper or red cedar chips are good preservatives from moths, but camphor is the best. Washing Chintzes.—These should always be washed in dry weather, but if it is very cold it is better to dry them by the fire than risk spoiling the colors from freezing in the Open air. It is better, if possible, to defer their washing till the weather is suitable. HELPS FOR. THE HOUSEHOLD. 263° them; wash and Squeeze them through this, then squeeze them through a second sud, Rinse in lukewarm water, then in cold, and dry them in a hot sun or before the fire, well stretching them, to prevent them from shrinking, To Mend China.—A very fine cement may be made by boiling down a little isinglass, and afterwards adding to it about half the quantity ot spirits of wine, which should be applied while warm. ‘This cement is especi- ally valuable in mending glass, as it is free from any opaque appearance. A very strong cement may be made in the following manner, and kept for application at any time :—Heat a piece of white flint stone to a white heat, and cast it, while at this heat, into a vessel of cold water, which will te duce it to a fine powder. Carefully preserve this flint powder, and mix it with rosin to the consistency of thick paste. ‘The rosin should be heated in an earthenware pipkiy. To apply this cement, heat the edges of the pieces of the article to be mended, rub upon them this cement, and place them neatly ang well together. When dry, scrape off all excrescet,ce of the cement when the article will be perfect. Damp Wails.—Boil two quarts of tar To Clean Paint.—Simmer together in a | with tv ounces of kitchen grease in an pipkin one pound of soft soap, two ounces soft pearlash, one pint of sand, and one pint of table beer; to be used as soap. Iron saucepan for a quarter of an hour; to this mixture add some slaked lime and very finely-pounded glass, which has previously Another Way.—Grate to a fine pulp four | potatoes to every quart of water; stir it; | then let it settle, and pour off the liquor. To be used with a sponge. Wash-Leather Gloves.—The grease spots | should be first removed by rubbing them with magnesia, cream of tartar, or Wilming- ton clay scraped to powder. Make a lather of soap and water, put the gloves into the | water lukewarm, as hot water will shrink | been through a hair-sieve. ‘The proportions | should be two parts lime to one of glass, ; worked to the thickness of a thin plaster. | This cement must be used as soon as made, or else it will become too hard. One coat, about an inch thick, has generally answered the purpose, but if the wall is very damp, it may receive two coats. Paint over the cement or plaster, and paper may be used ta cover it, _ * ¥ > ee er ae Sa Pam es Serer eee es Lb ow Oo Cr ed ” a he ees oe eae i, Soe eee é um 7 a enn eeSe esi oie Narnia oat Ge dn cea aaa LEI PRT ATR SHLD i OT. peice Fee ene I 0 a a8 Fi a : a b= i . # 4 PS) 264. COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. To Restore Plated Cruet-Stands, Candle- sticks, etc., when the Silver is worn off.— Purchase at the chemist’s four cents’ worth of mercury, and two cents’ worth of prepared chalk, mix as a powder. Half the chalk may be used. Make it into a paste with a little water, in a saucer, and with a small piece of leather rub the article until the tarnish quite disappears. Polish with a leather. If this powder is used about once a week to plated articles, when worn, they will be kept as white as silver. Freckles.—T'o remove freckles, take one ounce of lemon-juice, a quarter of a drachm of powdered borax, and half a drachm of sugar; mix, and let them stand a few days in a glass bottle, then rub it on the face and hands occasionally. To Clean Dirty or Stained Furniture.— If the furniture is in a bad state, but not stained, it will be sufficient to cleanse it by well washing with spirits of turpentine, and afterwards polishing with linseed oil colored with alkanet root. When, however, the fur- niture isstained or inky, it should be washed with sour beer or vinegar, warm ; afterwards rubbing the stains with spirit of salts rubbed on with a piece of rag, which will remove all the stains. ‘The wood may then be pol- ished, with linseed oil colored with alkanet root, or with beeswax, dissolved in turpentine, with a little copal varnish or resin added. To Render New Mahogany Like Old.— This is of service in the cases of furniture repaired, or when lacquered handles have been changed for mahogany ones. Soap and wate: will darken to some extent; but if darker is required, use oil; or for very dark, lime-water. To Clean Lacquered Brass-work of Fur- niture.—Wash in warm water, using a soft rag. If the work will not clean by this scams, 2t must be re-lacquered. To Make Colored Drawings or Prints Resemble Oil-Paintings.—This is a favorite plan of treating pictures, as it gives them a ~ showy appearanice, and prevents their requir- ing glasses. Wash over the drawing or print with a solution of isinglass, and when dry apply with a very fine soft brush a varnish, composed of two parts of spirits of turpentine and one of Canada balsam, mixed together. This plan of treating pictures is much used. Asphalt for Garden-Walks, Fowl- Houses, Sheds, etc.—Having laid the walk quite even, and beaten it firm, pour upon it a coat of hot tar; while hot, sift thickly all over it road-dust ot cinder-ashes. When cold, repeat the same process several times, and a good, hard, durable and wholesome flooring will be effected. It is particularly recommended for the purpose of fowl-houses, as being very healthy to the stock. To Repair Broken Walls.—Mix with water equal parts of plaster of Paris and white house-sand, with which stop the broken place in the wall. To Clean Looking-Glasses.—Having dusted the glass with a soft duster quite free from grit, in order not to scratch the glass, sponge it with diluted spirits of wine or gin, and dust over it a little very fine powder through a muslin bag; rub the glass, witha light hand, with the soft duster, and finish off with a soft piece of silk or old hand- kerchief. To Clean Stone Steps and Stairs.~ Where there are large flights of stone steps and flagged pathways, the process of cleaning is a long and tedious one. The common method of cleaning with hearthstone, or caked whitening, not only gives a smeary appearance, but washes off with a shower of rain. ‘The preparation which we here give not only has a great preference in appear- ance, but, in the long run, saves labor; aswith it twice a week is sufficient for whiten- ing, and the remaining days washing will be found sufficient. Take a gallon of water, and color to the intensity of deep-colored blue water with stone-blue. Boil in it a pound of white size, and dissolve in it a quarter of a pound of whitening and three cakes of pipe-clay, stirring it well about. Wash over the steps with this solution in a slight, quick manner, and afterwards finish with clean water in the usual way. Liquid Glue and Cement.—Take of crushed orange-shellac four ounces, of recti- fied spirit of wine (strong), or rectified wood naphtha, three ounces. The rectified spirit ef wine makes a far superior composition, but the other is good enough for all ordinary work. Dissolve the shellac in the spirit, in a corked bottle in a warm place; frequent shaking will assist it in dissolving, and it should also be shaken before use. This composition may be used as a varnish for unpainted wood. Cement for Mending Broken Vessels.— To half a pint of milk put a sufficient quan- tity of vinegar in order to curdle it; separate the curd from the whey, and mix the whey with the whites of four eggs, beating the whole well together; when mixed, add a little quick-lime through a sieve until it acquires the consistency of a paste. With this cement broken vessels or cracks can be repaired ; it dries quickly, and resists the action of fire and water. Red Ink.—Take of white wine vinegar one quart, powdered Brazil wood two ounces, and alum half an ounce; infuse them together for ten days, then let them gently simmer over a slow fire, after which add a good half ounce of gum arabic. ‘When the gum is dissolved, strain the mixture and bottle it for use. Ink thus prepared will "keep its color for many years. HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD: 265 Violet Ink.—Boil a good quantity of logwood chips in vinegar, and add to the mixture a little alum and gum arabic. The depth of the tint may be modified by vary- ing the proportions of logwood and vinegar. Black Ink.—Heat a quart of rain water till it almost boils, and then put into it twe ounces of green copperas; when cold strain it, and add to the liquor five ounces of powdered galls and two ounces of loaf-sugar. This ink keeps its color well. Paste for Moulding.—Melt some glue in water, and let it be tolerably strong. Mix with this whiting until it is as firm as dough; then work it into the moulds, which mnst be previously oiled. Polish for Marble.—Melt over a slow fire four ounces of white wax, and while it is warm stir into it with a wooden spatula an equal weight of oil of turpentine; when thoroughly incorporated, put the mixture into a bottle or other vessel, which must be well corked whenever not in use. A little of the above is put upon a piece of flannel and well rubbed upon the marble. Another: Fine rotten stone, with olive oil, rubbed upon the marble till the desired lustre is attained. Candied Horehound.—Take some hore- hound and boil it till the juice is extracted, when sugar, which has been previously boiled until candied, must be added to it. Stir the compound over the fire until it thickens. Pour it out into a paper case dusted over with fine sugar, and cut it into squares or any other shapes desired. Peppermint Drops.—A brass or block-tin saucepan must be rubbed over inside with a little butter. Put into it half a pound of crushed lump sugar with a tablespoonful or so of water. Place it over the fire, and let it boil briskly for ten minutes, when a desserte spoonful of essence of peppermint is to be ee ee a ~ <3 Set Be + ~~ e ee ee aa P , ee eS ee | one ee ati non 9 banat! ees ee eed Pe ee 5 oneal a eileOO Waa aa et a a LEAT tal rs Oe eee ag a reach Rae a tS PONS Sansa Lios Paha io aaccciadeiahdatecs ee Z 4 3 é bs x 3 : a De L? + i id Bi ; E i } % : 266 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. stirred into it. It may then be let fall in | drops upon writing paper, or poured out “pon plates which have been rubbed over with butter. Ginger Drops.—Mix one ounce of prepared ginger with one pound of loafsugar; beat to a paste two ounces of fresh candied orange in a mortar, with a little sugar. Put the above into a brass or block-tin saucepan with a little water. Stir them all well, and boil until they are sufficiently amalgamated, which will be when the mixture thickens like ordinary candied sugar. Pour out on writing paper in drops, or on plates as for peppermint drops. Lemon Drops.—Grate three large lemons; | then take a large piece of best lump sugar and reduce it to a powder. Mix the sugar and lemon on a plate with half a teaspoon- ful of flour, and beat the compound with the white of an egg until it forms a hight paste. It must then be placed in drops on a clean sheet of writing paper, and placed before the fire—to dry hard rather than to bake. Polish for Furniture.—White wax and oil of turpentine, as in the directions for polish for marble. A small quantity applied | with flannel or other woolen cloth, and well | rubbed, is excellent for mahogany and walnut. If it is desired to give a yellowish tint for light colored wood, the turpentine should have inftised into it, for forty-eight nours before mixing, a small quantity of quercitron, or dyer’s oak. To give it a reddish tinge, a little alkanet may be used in the same way as the quercitron. Opodeldoc.—Opodeldoc and soap liniment are the same thing. It isa popular external | application for local pains and swellings, bruises, sprains, and rheumatism. ‘There are several ways of making it. One recipe is: One ounce of camphor, five ounces of | — castile soap, one drachm of oil of rosemary, one and a quarter pints of rectified spirits of wine, and one and a quarter pints of water. This requires to digest for a week, and to be occasionally stirred. When ready, filter aud bottle for use. Eau de Cologne.—An excellent form oi eau de Cologne may be thus prepared: Take two drachms of the seeds of the lesser carda- mom, and put them into a still with two quarts of rectified spirits of wine, and add twenty-four drops of each of the following oils: bergamot, lemon, orange, neroli, rase- inary, and cedrat; allow them to remain for a few days, and then distil three pints of perfume. Sometimesa stronger preparation is made by employing half the quantity of spirit to the same quantity of materials. This preparation may also be made by omitting the seeds, and dissolving the oils in the spirit without distillation. In this case the perfume will be improved by allowing the eax de Cologne, when made, to remain at rest in a cool place, such as a dry wine-cellar, for two or three months before being used. A good kind of eau de Cologne is thus prepared: Take a quarter of an ounce of the oils of lemon and bergamot, and half that quantity of oil of orange peel, half a drachm of oil of rosemary, and forty drops of the oil of neroli, and dissolve them in one pint of rectified spirits of wine. ‘This preparation will be much improved by the addition of a few drops of the essences of musk and ambereris. To Clean Combs.—Tie one end of a silk thread to the handle of a washstand. Seat yourself before it with a napkin spread on your lap, and holding the other end of the thread tightly in your left hand, take the comb in your right and pass it hard and carefully along the silk, which should bemade to go in between the teeth of the comb separately, so as to remove or scrape out all the impurities. ‘Then rub the comb with a brush or a soft cloth; rinse it in warm soapsuds and wipe it dry. The Complexion.—A daily bath is an adjunct to the beauty of the skin, and so is everything that conduces to health, such as eatly hours, avoidance of close, crowded rooms, a daily walk, pure air, and suitable diet. Too poor and too rich diet injure the skin equally. Care should be taken not to tan or freckle the skin. A black veil should not be worn in sunny weather. It is well not to wash the face too frequently; it should be made clean before retiring to rest at night, that nothing may obstruct the free action of the perspiration, and that, with the morning ablutions, should suffice. Of one thing be very careful; never wash the face when you are heated, or soon after walking or dancing, especially in cold water. Drinking cold water, also, at such times, is greatly injuri- ous. Doing either is well known to cause a permanent discoloration of a frightful de- scription. ‘Tight lacing and tight boots are also sometimes the cause of a red nose or a skin disease. Rose water is harmless to the skin, and sulphur is frequently beneficial. A wash of rose water and flowers of sulphur may be used when there is any disfigurement of the skin, such as we have just indicated. First wash the face clean, shake the bottle, and bathe the face at night for ten minutes. Let it dry unwiped. But unless there is any sause do not use any preparation; let well alone. It is pleasant after all to think that the finest beautifiers are within the reach of every one, and are such simple cosmetics as cold water, fresh air, and temperate habits. HELPS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD, 267 In proportion as we have endeavored te prove how small a part the features in them- selves play as to the higher purposes of a face—nainely, its identity and moral charac- ter—we have increased the responsibility of every one who carries a face as to the impres- sion it ought to create. ‘This responsibility. of course, extends equally to man as to woman; but alarger sphere of it belongs to the latter. With her is associated a separate idea, that as beauty is proper to her, the loves and the graces are felt to reside natur- ally in a woman’s countenance, but to be quite out of place in a man’s. His face is formed to be clean, and may be allowed to be picturesque—but it is a woman’s place to be beautiful. Beauty of some kind is so much the attri- bute of the sex, that a woman can hardly be said to feel herself a woman who has not, at one time of her life at all events, felt her- self to be fair. Beauty confers an education of its own, and that always a feminirie one. Most celebrated beauties have owed their highest charms to the refining education which their native ones have given them. It was the wisdom as well as the poetry of the age of chivalry that it supposed all women to be beautiful, and treated them as such. A woman is not fully furnished for her part in life whose heart has not occasionally swelled with the sense of possessing some natural abilities in the great art of pleasing, opening to her knowledge secrets of strength, wonderfully intended to balance her musct- lar, or—if it may be—her general weakness, And herein we see how truly this attribute belongs to woman alone. Man does not need such a consciousness, and seldom has it without rendering himself extremely ridicu- lous; while to a woman it is one of the chiet weapons in her armory. ee ee ad SS ee Ne ee Pe ho Pw ee Le Po dee se eae Cr aed el Pe ee ee a : - aes aPE ats at ad LIEN Re ee a ag ee ere LAER CRE, BIS ESSN en a ECR x a A + Bs : ¥ cy $ E 5 3 E g ; P| § . 2638 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. What can be more cruel than the con- tinual forcing upon a young girl the wither- ing conviction of her own plainness Pad this be only a foolish sham to counteract the supposed demoralizing consciousness of beauty, the world will soon counteract that ; but if the victim have really but a scanty supply of charms, it will, in addition to in- calculable anguish of mind, only diminish these further still. ‘To such a system alone can we ascribe an unhappy, anomalous style of a young woman, occasionally met with, who seems to have taken on herself the vows of voluntary ugliness, who neither eats enough to keep her complexion clear nor smiles enough to set her pleasing muscles in action—who prides herself on a skinny par- simony of attire which she calls neatness— thinks that alone respectable which is most unbecoming—is always thin, and seldom well, and passes through the society of the lovely, the graceful, and the happy, with the vanity that apes humility on her poor disap- pointed courtenance, as if to say, ‘Stand back, I am uncomelier than thou. ” The Art of Beauty. Mrs. S. C. Hall says: “Beauty of the face depends more upon the movement of the face than upon the form of the features when at rest. ‘Thus a countenance habitu- ally under the influence of amiable feelings acquires a beauty of the highest order, from the frequency with which such feelings are the originating causes of the movement or expressions which stamp their character up- oa it.” The following passage, by Mrs. Jamieson, we cordially recommend to our lady readers; __“JTn the morning use pure water as an ab- lution ; after which they must abstain from all sudden gusts of passion, particularly envy, as that gives the skin a sallow pale- ness. It may seem trifling to speak of tem perance, yet this must be attended to both in eating and drinking, it they would avoid pimples. Instead of rouge, let them use moderate exercise, which will raise a natural bloom in their cheeks, inimitable by art. Ingenuous candor, and unaffected good humor, will give an openness to their coun- tenance that will make them universally agreeable. A desire of pleasing will add fire to their eyes, and breathing the air of sunrise will give their lips a vermilion hue. That amiable vivacity which they now poss- ess may be highly heightened and preservea. it they would avoid late hours and card-play- ing, as well as novel-reading by candle-light, but not otherwise ; for the first gives the face a drowsy, disagreeable aspect ; the second is the mother of wrinkles ; and the third is a fruitful source of weak eyes and a saliow complexion. “A nice hand is a very desirable orna- ment; and a hand can never be perfect unless it be kept clean. Nor is this all, for if a young lady would excel her companions in this respect, she must keep her hands in con- stant motion, which will occasion the blood to circulate freely, and have a wonderful eftect. ‘The motion recommended is work: ing at her needle, making herself useful.”CHAPTER XX. House-Building, or How to Obtain a Home. HE following artistic house designs, with floor plans, are furnished by the National Architects’ Union of Philadelphia. ‘The designs and plans of the National Architects’ Union are considered the best, and while the publishers of this work are gratified at being able to reproduce a number, they take this opportunity of expressing theit grateful acknowledgements for the privilege of making use of them. qe Ts ~E 4 SS Naas 7. Se. Se ee oa ee pias |9F7T — Pn —— SEIN oa a ORAL ia a = s[w =. k UAT EMMA MONT e's : TOO 1 = = ae aire LWA C7 Ns Mt SECT x Way ete oe MOT UD CL MN PRSWEL 2 yy UE AA AN! Vf SS a eae WILE Cand ae i dene ang ee 1 M8 AIRES SS I SSS MCE be ee ° mie - Bs E : - : eh re PERSPECTIVE VIEW OF DESIGN NO. 1, ESTIMATED COST $2250, BRICK-FRAME, Si7T50O- 6 208 & — : eA RIMS ihe ate RR ES A Cee TTS Cle Haare eee ee a ene re as “ e aes wee Pe ear oe wee We pote kee ee RO a a nee [Ae Lay gies Re oe a iad re ~ eee Se + ~ = | cae WN ie LW ALY | | 4 ' rs Ce = “SS Y First Floor.—Design No. 1. High houses and ceilings are much cheaper e cae +L a a for their room, and every way better tha: low. Foundation and roof, the two most | costly parts of all houses, are the same in | both for their size; yet it takes double of | poth for a given amount of room in a one | story as compared with a two and three—no | trifling difference. | This beautiful cottage will never fail to please the ownet’s eye, and, better still make It will be found cool and airy in summer, and easily An east or west entrance will enable you to put your parlor on the north and sitting- room on the south side, while a northern | entrance naturally gives the sun to the kit- chen, and a southern to your parlor. ‘These acts are worth considering in laying out the house you are to live in always. The old-fashioned method of building a house was to pay little or no attention to sun exposure. The fact is, sunshine has so much to do with both health and spirits that in your living rooms you cannot afford to be without it. ‘Let there be light” in your home; let the sunbeams have a chance to make you healthy and happy. ‘This is vastly cheaper than doctors’ bills. Second Story. Has three light, roomy, cool bed-rooms and, best of all, around each room and unde the roof are ample closets and store room. MATERIALS.—Foundation, rough stone work; first story, in brick work; second | story, frame, painted on sheathing, and be: >) ‘tween same clapboarded; roof shingled; | basement under main walls. 4 i i: | # 4 Z| | A | { A AIA ceeees * camel. Cian tee Xj | i Second Floor.—Design No. i.First Floor.—Design No. % HOUSE-BUILDING, OR HOW TO OBTAIN A HOME. ass t — Zz ILL ; TEA AN ot SS SL VSNL \ / 5 Ss eee, partis Pe ea mre o Li, ‘p,’ WES = (eee vi aod MCE GRA ie IG lta CN PERSPECTIVE VIEW OF DESIGN NO. 2. ESTIMATED COST, $1000. First Story. A large and pretty vestibule affords entrance from the porch to the more private house-hall, and the parlor (10 x 14), and sitting-room (14 x 8.6), two pleasing, light and comfortable rooms, opening into each other, and allowing of the sitting-room being used as a bed-chamber if desired. Back of these is a very large dining-room (10x 21), which has large closets and open fire-place. The kitchen (10x 14.6) is a good-sized and well-lighted room, with 4 large pantry attached. Second Story. Contains three bed-chambers (Io x 14, 10 x 14, 8 x9), well lighted, and each opening into the hall. Good closets in each. ‘here is astep-ladder to an attic- loft. MATERIALS.—Foundation, brick or stone; basement under main walls ; First Story frame sheathed and clep- boarded; shingled roof and gables. or ly Second Floor.—Design No. 2- ee ee ied « 7) ee BNW a MN ne PC ee eee Pe eS — a ee ee ieee Mit a to tel SF) ee eee F tiadl on as wool eerar AG oe amet5 Ae tee : wo tA —_- - opps OTT SE Mae yy asl 3 LES Fra NV Siig c A BS “i Me a ee a8 ‘ _— —_—_ 7 PERSPECTIVE VIEW OF DESIGN NO. 3. EST:iMATED COST, $2400. This design is one which strikes ail who see it as combining beauty and comfort in an unusual degree. When we consider the low cost at which it can be built, we feel that we may say that it is unexcelled in its way. ‘The graceful porches, the shape of the bow-window at the end, and the effect produced by the projection of the second story in front, make a combination restful to the eye. The hall of this beautiful residence is as large as a room in itself, allowing of its Being so used, and adding much to the beaucy of the arrangement. All the designs furnished in this chapter have great advantages by reason of their simplicity and cheapness. A vast amount of money can be spent in the construction of @ dwelling, and on account of ignorance and inexperience results far more unsatisfactory may follow than might be obtained by a smaller outlay of money, provided common sense accompanies your building operations. Most persons are over ambitious when they build a house. ‘Their ideas are larger than their purses. They want an edifice that shall throw all others in the neighborhood “into the shade.” Or they want some won- derful design for their dwelling different from anything ever thought of before “in heaven above or in the earth beneath.” hus they often perpetrate a dismal failure. And where men have plenty of money te build with, it is often painful to witness theis agony to obtain a grand edifice, squandering thousands of dollars on their fine house, when a more judicious expenditure would be much more to their credit and sense. ‘The spirit of the times might be expressed by saying—get rich, put up a palace, and go | into bankruptcy.HOUSE-BUILDING, OR First Story. From the hall, mentioned above, you enter on the right the parlor (13 x 14), which has three windows and a fireplace, the latter set across one corner of the room, a style of architecture which admits of a great improvement in the furnishing of the room. One of these corner fireplaces, built over with shelves for bric-a-brac, is a “thing of beauty.” Opposite the hall en- trance is the door to the library or sitting- room (I§x1I7), with open fireplace and four windows, a spacious, well-lighted room. ‘The dining-room (12x15), entered in the same way, is comfortable and pleasant, and also has the cheery, open fireplace. ‘The kitchen (14x18), is a well- lighted pleasant room with large pantry. There is also a preserve closet and a china closet. «QQ First Floor.—Design No. 3. HOW TO OBTAIN A HOME. 2 273 Second Floor.—Design No. 3. Second Story. Contains four nice, airy, comfortable chambers @2.6x%14, ©2.6x1 13% Eo 12.6x18), each with a closet large enough to delight the housekeeper’s heart, and two of them having the “‘cosy corner” formed by half of the bow. A bath and toilet-room opens from the hall. ‘There is an attic above for the storage of goods. MATERIALS.—Foundation, stone of brick piers; First Story sheathed and clapboarded; Second Story shingled; roof shingled. Frame construction. Special note should be taken of the wide, comfortable porch around two sides and part of the third side of the house, adding much to its general ap pearance. ‘This house has given univer sal satisfaction wherever built. wor Crees ee | Ne a wr ae Ree ee es 7 a ts eel et DOE I tiwinaien bo eaten gen IO A eR. Bn Det ren eet ee se nee PT eel oe a ia eo ee aeWery Roomy, pES SE: cost 4800. U, YP A E ne SOUTHERN HOt ESTIMAT eo S 4 a $5) aioe - gy eo oy k Genvenient ane nannpoe Tibet rN Pr zr: yao! Tyas gnamnt ) 1) ae F WE { a Eo ae i } .{ ~< L = j a a ENT 5 A Se a RS ITT TI MEI ane ee — eet. 5 wee I v "| Fo ca a * prea —— ede i aie La CaaS ais 4 nn -" PI ae LATE J we mn pe ete ta as CASE = rr : - Ty ese cuese! 2 ING v Grey fetk® ROHITEE TS ui { LpReE Re PHS + c oo a09 bpee © ¥ %G ¥ § Q i ip aigtial badesbicl~ Oe Er a = ae is ps ZaS§ bs a=5 3 a3 t : Y eg , r fuss tir ip pita f / { Sats pau a ep bb a Lo ene al thie Bi Wealden yates " , 5 eff Wali es exalt ar os il, [athe War ae maleh na Abd de eee menggoo SS iets At. a i] aS TT vee ni latte { w Le we his Re Loe ig “nex a MON pe hal SOF VaneCeilings, 9 feet; se? on brick piers 7 feet | and no one could understand what a differ- |; €nce such a window makes except by actual az 2 % > ° e ' e : depth, 62 feet; foundation, brick; a 5000 | experiment. migh; no cellar; no attic; width, 34 feet; gallon tank and a cold storage-room, with | mine-inch walls lined with sawdust: first | story clapboarded; second story shingled: #00f shingled; latticed base. | 1 4 ponte a ly ETE % Ke : b e PES i i : » yy, % = OR a ; ad , ct? ‘ @e meso? ee Sa <7 a . a i | POTTS TR eae ~ E t ey A ?? iit ‘ 4 : 5 Hi A Ee SN ia? Pearse oS en WR oy | Tee t A reer A By 2) ot i MS aah een LD —| og ‘a paren] a 6a OK ee Fe ee ie = ecemicabe 7 Ground Hloor.—Design No, 4. “ig house interior is more picasant and convenient than one provided with one or | more bay windows.. Often it happens that | rooms appear to be small and contracted ; | you have a singular impression of being shut ) ap in a prisoner’s cell. You should not turn your dwelling into a jail. Now, for such » sooms a bay window is a complete remedy, | HOUSE-BUILDING, OR HOW TO OBTAIN A HOME 275 Te SL en It isalmost like adding another | room to the house. Ai ale? hera €h 4 > WsenAeem Ordinarily, where there is a bay window et on the first story, the proportion of the house bs | is better preserved, and is made more sym- ix2trical by extending the projection to the story above. ‘This is something to be con- sidered. because you want your house to look well, s* tha: at ‘irst glance a stranger would “Yybat.a pretty house!’ Consid- is@ the additional room obtained by py ywindow, and the greater convenience tani a waterless . Woking out upon surroundings you are tortumate 1f your plan and you ae a edeand: fete 1s gece . nee means adueit oF his improvement. PELOSI SES we Roe Ns, . oh ai, a ae. a3 9 FS Ss se oS 029. OL $8’ seek DP = = Roe aT LESS BQ Second Ploor.—Design No. &- eee Se ee a a ee Fe ee ae Ss ee ae a Po eal a eel ap Ce ed pe eeCosT $2100. OESIGN NO. 5. ORUAENGS & FT. AND 9 FT.6 IN WIDTH 48 FT, DEPTH 46We illustrate here a design, which is one of the most picturesque we offer. It has a round porch anda balcony on second floor. A wide hall goes into the parlor on one side and the library on the other. In the parlor is a pretty corner with a seat around it and there can be an openfire place. The library isa room I4 x14 feet whose cut-off corner gives it also an odd appearance. A wide arch divides it from the sitting-room. Any family desiring to have bedrooms on the first floor, could use either or both of these for this purpose, putting a door between. pr v BATH = 0] et. d “T Aitcaén } [i bfl i Sitink A ) Roony {ee ae Tuas. ie uan ee ININGe 2 Fioom.- LIpRARY : IY4Ie : ge ed PARLOR ae (4416 First Floor.—Desigu No. 5. The dining room is a very agreeable room and opens out on a little back porch from which access is gained to the bath room. The latter room can be omitted or altered to a servant’s bedroom anywhere it may be desired. She kitchen communicates with the dining room by a butler’s pantry, and has an additional closet. ‘The chimney in library and sitting room can be omitted if preferred for 2 summer house. On the sec- ond floor there are three large bedrooms and a store or trunk room. ‘There isan entrance to the balcony from the hall. There is air space above these rooms. As will be seen, this house is entirely suitable for a perma- nent residence. It can be sided on the sec- HOUSE-BUILDING, OR HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE. 271 shingles are high at a less expense than shingling, but, of course, will not be quite so effective. The cosy corner is repeated in the front bedroom, and there is another, formed by the dormer in the side bedroom. Altogether, this is a house which inside and out is pretty, unusual and convenient. c een eee iz j BER Room, tie Second Floor.—Design No. 5. In building a house you could be pardonec for considering each and every feature of the whole structure more important than any others. If you were asked what particular thing should have mostattention, you might reasonably answer that every thing should have most attention. Certainly no part of the plan, the contract with the builder, the iaterials, the construction and finishing, should be neglected. All the details must be attended to with scrupulous care. Have every thing right as you go along. Especially must attention be given to the foundation, the walls, the cellar, the eleva- tion of the walls above the surface of the ground. A good, dry, roomy cellar is as much a requisite as a pleasant parlor or a good sittinug-room. If your house is defective at the base, it will be defective all the way up. A cellar that gets damp in every rain- storm will give neuralgia to the whole family. Persons often take cold, have all sorts of aches, are cross and ugly as bears, and “dons, see how they ever took cold,” for they have been “so careful,” when the truth is, the ond story in parts of the country where ' “cold” is in the house. eC Ce eee er eid — Sethe Se De lhe'@ eae PCS ee eae ee Me eS eee > kde ete PADO PLEAD EN > oo ~~ ee ee eal278 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. —_ = aS Sree SS = —— LEST POOP TT TTA | / | - or 3 ra = = | ——_—_—._ 5 oe PY Os. = = Scere | i masa ‘ Seen eta ~ — 1 | - eee a Zerg aon z Ss a he ee PET a ae ee ice eS OIE ak EO I ee Sete , * ~ || beeen) | an es SE RRR i Y (¢ » 7 } Nevéaee FL f PAN ony AR $7 ITAL AU OLLI iG Pe Ee a PERSPECTIVE VIEW OF DESIGN NO. 6. ESTIMATED COST $1800. This roomy arid picturesque design we are | as nearly as possible impregnable; around sure will be considered attractive by all our | that was built a high enclosure, and still out yeaders, and is specially suited to those who | side of that was a canal with a drawbridge. are intending to build a summer home at | Gradually the fact has dawned that we need the seaside, as well as for an all-the-year- | not be thus suspicious. We need not build round residence anywhere. Beside the two | a house of stone, we need not construct a porches on the first floor, one extending all | canal, but we still adhere to the high wall o the way across the parlor front, you should | fence, as we are oftentimes compelled to be: note the pretty balcony porches on the | cause of the disposition of the neighbor to second floor, which not only add to the pic- | trample upon our rights by allowing his turesque effect, but very much to the comfort | animals to destroy our property. and beauty of the rooms which open into them. ‘The value of an architect’s skill is shown in this design as a tasteful and pleas- ing appearance, where a large amount of comfort is gained 1n an inexpensive way. The reader has doubtless seen a town in which the. people allowed their domestic animals to run at large, the hogs to root the turf to pieces by the roadside, the cattle to destroy sidewalks, to break through fences Se a | idee : Country Annoyances. and to tear down trees. ‘This want of The utter disregard for the wants of others | courtesy is not uncommon. And it makes causes people generally to become suspicious | a wide difference whose ox is gored. If of their neighbors. It is true that this sus- | your animals do the misch. +, you soon hear picion is gradually becoming lessened. ‘The | from it; if you are the sterer, it is quite time was when the inhabitants built a castle | another thing.First Story. The entrance from the side porch is made Into quare hall, intended to be used as a First Floor.—Design No. 6. room, and which has an open fireplace; a perfect gem of an apartment. ‘The spacious and pleasant parlor (11 x 25), also with open fireplace, is at the left of the hall, and opens into the dining-room (II x 15), which has a pleasant bay-window and open fireplace; this isa deauiiul room. ‘Io the right of the hall is a passage leading to a cosy library or sitting-room (II x 12), which has a large closet. ‘he kitchen, at the farthest end of the passage, is a comfortable room 9 x 14, well lighted and with a large pantry. It also communicates with the dining-room by a passage-way with closets at the side. At the end of the passage which leads to the kitchen is a room 8 x 12, which can be used as servant’s bed-room, office, or sewing-room. It has a large closet. HOUSE-BUILDING, OR HOW TO OBTAIN A HOME. 279 You will see that this house 1s provided with a garret, as all houses should be. Fre quently the garret is as useful as any other room from top to bottom. If not turned into a dormitory, it is a most convenient store-room. It is also better for health to have a room between the roof and your sleeping apartments. Second Story. Contains one very large chamber (10 x 21), with open fireplace, two closets anda balcony | Second Ficor.—Design No. 6. porch. Smaller rooms II x 12, 11 x 14, and 8 x 12, the last also with balcony porch, have large closets. There is a private stair- case. Also a storage loft. MATERIALS.—Foundation, stone or bricks basement under main walls, First Story sheathed and clapboarded; Second Story sheathed and shingled. Gables and roof shineoled. -— ax eee ee ee ee My Pres % ee er ee et ee Sr a - Oe ee een in pernnnannte ees oO ae : Pre ee en el eree rede ae TA Taek aS “ Deer Per sae nat ah i Uae LEI a ha I hl ee ee eae ~~ by = : bs + ES ; Ny Ry a : ; bl Mee YY : LA Y COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. Ud , “7 rd v ’ V//, iy ' V4 a’ ibe el ifé I Cae a WI DESIGN NO. 7. ESTIMATED COST $1700.This is a most romantic and picturesque house; its great charm lies in its simplicity and beauty of outline. The floor arrange- ment is also unique. There is a wide porch at the side which is extended in a half circle at the end. ‘This end is elevated above the other porcn and is extended for a dining porch. ‘The raised floor enables the sitter to look over the view, while the shingled wall HOUSE-BUILDING, OR HOW TO OBTAIN A HOME, around the porch makes it private and } secure. ‘The living room, of good size, has ! a latticed stairway at the side. ‘The parlor ) is entered through an arch with portieres, and from it a bedroom opens. ‘The kitcher. communicates with the living room through a butler’s pantry and has another storage pantry beside. On the second floor are five bedrooms, all of good size, which are cut to 4 ft. 6 in, at the sides in the end rooms, but have dormers in these rooms as shown. This is a delightful house and is admired by all who see it. Interior decoration may | carry out the general scheme and make a most beantiful summer home. ‘The large | surface of the dwelling should not be object- ed to by those who are fond of fresh air. Having your house, you should know how to live in it. Not only make your dwelling an acquisition to the neighborhood, but make yourself and family a desirable part of the community. Good Neighbors. The individual who will conduct a hotse or an establishment that is unpleasant, in- jurious to health, or detrimental to the com- munity, evinces a disregard for the courtesy that is due to his neighbors. The parents who allow children to annoy their neighbors, are always a most undesir- able people to have in the vicinity. The people of a community who will detiberately turn horses, cattle and hogs into 282 the street, entirely disregarding the fact thaf the animals are liable to do much damage te others, demonstrate a lack of regard for neigh- bors which is inexcusable, and can only be explained or the ground that the habit is sa common that they do not realize the injury they are doing. The fact that we accosted Mr. Smith politely, and said pleasant things in his presence, was good so far as it went, but the further fact that we turned our cattle into the street, well knowing they were liable to trample Mr. Smith’s sidewalk to pieces, and break down his trees, demonstrates that, while we are very agreeable to his face, we care but little what we may do behind his back. ewe aS ! pe “1 3R : HY 5b DK BR ie F yy eb ly hilo mara LI ~ . 9 x106" LIVIN FON) [3 420 DA GS RAED 15420 Porcw . {bt x16 Firss and Second Floors.—Design No. 7. The code of etiquette should not alone apply among individuals when directly asso- ciated together. It should extend further. It should go out and permeate a neighbor- hood. It should diffuse itself throughout & town. It should bind together the people of a State—ofa nation. It should bea rule of action among all nations. Already the evi« dence of courtesy among nations begins to manifest itself ‘The International Congtess is based upon this principle. ‘The idea of Be Cone gs re ee Ur | i SER ce ciate einen SS EC Sara fe r AS: Pee ee Pure RRO a Nee re ee ee Ree een oe PE Te Re ee ‘se PN% " kA i | ¥ bd ca Ft Ps € rs 4 é 4 3 4 bt Hy Cpt el Dl aaah ral ad ase i) Tem De ee a ek te Ore a bears asia cea aR ee A PI SATAN R GE LUTEAL ais 9 AENEAN AT DA aet ds See att nh ha tl TSS ee aE at ae OR Da a ES : 4 4 Z ‘i 282 COURTSHIP, MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. friendly association of the representatives of ations for mutual adjustment of differences, ls the beginning of a recognition of the rights of each other. When we can rise superior to selfishness, when we are willing to consider the rights and the requirements of others, when we are governed by the gen- erous spirit of doing unto others as we would they should do unto us, then we are directed by a power that will make an entire people 3s a whole, what the laws of etiquette deter mine they shall be individually, in their in- tercourse with each other. Hints to Housekeepers. Never suffer your rooms to be litterea, but keep your tables and chairs in their proper places. Rub your own tables, if you wish to be warm all day. Be regular in your accounts; it will secure your h:sband’s esteem. If you have daughters, teach them all needlework, and to keep the family accounts. Love your own house better than your neighbor’s. Keep no servants that have hangers-on. eep no more servants than you can employ. Dress modestly, but not fine, unless the world knows you can afford it. Insure your life, and you will sleep the better for it. Never be tempted to buy what you do not want. Do not put too much money in your children’s pockets on going to school; it is sowing the seeds of prodigality. Look out for the deserving poor of your own neighborhood, and give them what you | ean spare. If you have a family, and are not very affluent, remember that a pin a day is a groat A gossip has no home and very few friends. If you are rich, be liberal in your ex. peuses. Never write a letter when in a passion, Seldom venture on giving advice without being asked. In the morning think on what you are to | a year. do in the day; and, at night, think on what you have done. If you are ever so wise, there are many things on which you are ignorant. Money got by industry is Heaven’s gift. Do not leave that to be done to-morrow that conveniently may be done to-day. Good manners are best learned by keeping good company. Set your watch, every morning, by a good clock, and you will find a bad watch to go nearly as well as a good one. Good breeding requires that you be pune tual to your engagements. Never borrow of neighbors if it be possible to avoid it. It is better to buy what you need than to frequently borrow. ‘There are a few things which a neighbor should never be expected to lend. Among these are fine edged tools, delicate machinery, and any article liable to easily get out of order. ‘The less business relations among neighbors, the better. Never fail to return, with thanks, any article borrowed, as soon as you have finished using it, and see that it is in as good or bettef condition than when you received it. Articles of provisions which may be borrowed should be very promptly returned in larger quantity to pay interest, and better in quality if possible. In no way can a neighbor lose character more effectually in business dealing than by the petty meanness of borrowing and failing to pay, or by paye | ing with a poorer quality and less amountBOOK fiIT. How to be Healthy and Strong CHAPTER Xoxt, Healtny Dwellings. \ ELLING-HOUSES and apartments should be ensured sufficient light and air and a moderate temperature. They sfould be dry, not damp. Pure, fresh air 1s ef paramount importance in relation to the preservation of life and health, for only in a pure atmosphere can our blood be purified by respiration, About half a pint of air is inhaled with each respiration and as much exhaled. It is a sad fact that the dread of &esh air, under the name of ‘‘a cold draft,” is so general, and especially that it is encouraged by some physicians. Cold drafts can be harmful only to overheated and petspiring persons. ‘The statement, “I have caught a cold,” very frequently serves to dis- guise a variety of disease-producing causes which may justly be laid at th~ door of the speaker himself. Compliance with nature’s de.aands always produces a feeling of agreeable relief. What a similar sensation accompanies the exhala- tion of noxious matters from the lungs and skin we can appreciate only when these pro- cesses are interfered with. We should as fittle think of consuming again the exhala- lions of our skin and lungs as we would our ! ownexcretions. It would be equally absura In the year 1848, during a severe storm, the captain of the steamer “ Londonderry” confined his two hundred passengers in a hold which scarcely afforded them standing- room, and sealed the hatches. Forced te breathe again and again the same air, the miserable inmates soon found their situation intolerable, but contrived to force an exit only after seventy-two of their number had expired from suffocation. Nearly a century earlier a graphic descrip tion was given of the intense suffering of the one hundred and forty-six British soldiers confined in the Black Hole of Calcutta— their profuse perspiration, their raging thirst, their labored breathing, their rapid heart- action, their starting eyes, their frenzied struggles to reach the two small windows, their agonizing cries for water and for air, the‘z delirium, exhaustion, death. After ten hours of such scenes twenty-three only of the number were taken forth alive. These casualties were consequent simply upon the insufficiency of oxygen and the inability of an already saturated atmosphere to absctk the exhalations of so many bodies. 2383 fee SSC ST NOES EC ere Coos io at er need ; Sp tho, Cake ee es " ee eee : ae ee Ai FEC No RI ee Sosa Sin nm IN LIE fines Va) eet anaes” oe a eery Mia ea aiclnal leant Re a Re ee ae aie ee AL RAAT A 2S Sh A a al ET SNR ati a Aen ial CE , a FS A a ee ERI as EIS Ps We ih iste te 284 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. Necessity of Ventilation. Frequent change of air by efficient ven- silation is not sufficiently practiced either on behalf of the sick or of the well, aithough abundance of fresh air is well known to favor health, while its absence both causes and aggravates disease. In the Leopoldstadt prison of Vienna, a building very badly ven- tilated, the death-rate during a certain period was eighty-six per thousand, the large: number by far from lung diseases ; in the well-ventilated House of Correction in the same city the death-rate was only fourteen per thousand, and little more than half of these from lung complaints. The oxygen of the atmosphere is the most potent disinfectant of our bodies. In farm- houses we often see bedrooms made use of as wardrobes as well as for sleeping purposes, dresses and clothing being suspended from the walls and ceiling. No more favorable means than this can be imagined for the collection and distribution of disease-germs ; and it isa fact that we often see epidemics of dip theria, typhoid fever, and other in- fectious diseases, spread with remarkable ra- pidity among a farming population. Epidemic in Brooklyn. The great value of ventilation is forcibly ilustrated by an occurrence observed in Brooklyn in the year 1885. During that year an epidemic of typhoid fever, limited in area to but a few blocks, broke out in the southern part of the city. Many died of it, but only those were fatally attacked who bad been in the country during the preceding summer months. In the adjoining blocks, inhabited by a poorer class of people, who had remained in the city, no fatal cases oc- curred. i The reason for this partiality of the fevei is easily learned. ‘These well-to-do people, before leaving town, had closed up their | houses almost hermetically. | ee The gased which emanated from the sewer-pipes had become fixed, so to speak, during their ab- sence, having no channel of escape, and even after the return of the occupants ventilation had not been well looked after. In these houses, consequently, the germs of disease had found a fertile soil for their development, attacking their victims with such vigor as to overwhelm them. ‘The neighboring poor, however, had not been away, and their rooms had been constantly ventilated, so that disease germs found it hard to thrive there. Ventilation must be thorough and fre- quent. It does not suffice to open the win- dows a little at the top and a little at the bottom, nor even to open but one of them fully. All in the room should be thrown wide open above and below, so that not only fresh air can come in, but the foul and vit ated air of the interior can escape. ‘Ths badly fitting doors and windows of theis dwellings afford poor people better ventila- tion, even in winter, than they are otherwise likeiy to enjoy, not a bad thing, upon the whole, if only the house is not situated upon ground too low and damp. How to Ventilate a House. It is wise to pursue two methods of venti. lation conjointly. In the first place, as many windows and doors as possible should be thrown widely open for about an hour each evening before retiring, and again in the morning after the gentlemen have gone te business and the children to school. The draft thus created may bring in some dust to settle on the fine furniture, but this is easily removed; and the fact remains that the foul air of the room has been dispelled, and with it all disease germs adhering to walls and hangings. Just as violent atmospheric dis: turbances are necessary, particularly to large cities, in order to dissipate the thick vaporsHEALTHY DWELLINGS. : — a —— © WL <= —___ bya j Sf lie 5 & oe Ze Ait Lye SV MM N// 2 Ss Hi iA ay Vi Mt i U/ , oe be Za Hh Hs ik i at ao GGL (een NVA [f Sea Bees : Mh WE : / ate /! fio Ly ; / (A Se Cj Zo ON CHILDREN IN PERFECT HEALTH. ronstantly hovering about, so also must our | followed, in the second place, by constantly houses be subjected to like violent measures | admitting fresh air through windows kept of ventilation. always a little open at top and bottom. This , A quieter method of ventilation is to be |_need not create any dratt, but will simply ee ee er ee ee ee ee Soebe jaclucamowintedend Od fae ere) aS rd 535 — ee re eae ee ai eters y ee} ee ec a lease + Catal ee ama ee 20s PSII ea anata ei neh inc WA DR aa A. SB LE PMA oi fm RAW LUI B eB ws an Senge Rr PNM IR EP” SLR TO NE LRA 8 SE A is : be : FA 286 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. promote continual interchange between the tuner and the outer air. ‘The same end may be attained by closing the shutters on fully epened windows. Noxious gases and vapors, Just and smoke, must, of course be guarded against. Fumigation with aromatic compounds is of little value. It conceals disagreeable odors. but cannot change bad air for good. Deadly Water. The air aud water which permeate the soil demand our careful consideration. ‘They are supposed to exercise a strong influence upon epidemics of infectious diseases, like cholera and typhoid fever. In building a house, therefore, the condition of neighboring sewer- age should be closely regarded. No surface water should be allowed to collect about the foundations. Atl cesspools should be situated as far from the house as possible, care being taken to place them on a lower level than the house; otherwise the soil surrounding the house will become saturated with effete matters and will afford a favorable nidus for the development of disease-germs. Wells must be very far removed from cesspools. Pettenkofer has shown that the daily ex- cretions of an adult amount to about three pounds of solid and liquid matter. Hf no complete system of sewerage exists in a large city, his experience has taught him that hardly one-tenth of these effete products is actually removed. ‘The other nine-tenths decompose and filter into the ground, the more so, the lower and damper the iocality. This has been illustrated numberless times by the circumstances attending the spread of epidemics of cholera and other infectious diseases. On high, dry, and rocky ground these diseases are very rarely encountered. Sandy ground may also be held to afford a | Flugge have found that one volume of sand | will absorb and hold two hundred and fifty volumes of sewage. Natural Filter. Koch, however, modified Pettenkofet’s view by showing that the ground serves alse as a filter, the bacteria remaining for the greater part in the upper layers, while the purified liquids descend to lower levels. From the surface of the ground these germs are washed almost completely away, either by water flowing over the surface, or by showers of rain, and collecting in streams and wells, originate through drinking-wates a new source of infection. Hencea gradual, but constant decrease in mortality followed the introduction of sewerage into Munich, the classical typhoid city of Europe, ang into Calcutta, the breeding-place of cholera. Upon the development of tuberculosis, too, the purification of the ground exercises a retarding influence, for since the draining of the site of Munich and since the intro: duction of a pure water supply into thax city, the mortality of consumption has dé minished by a full third. From a bacteriological point of view, aG Hog the sewage be 1 healthy foundation, since it prevents decom- position of contained matters. Senator and | mixture of sewage with a water can be | injurious only when that sewage contains noxious bacteria. If, through any process, freed from such bactetia, it will be deprived of all bacteric infectious qualities. Germs of Disease. The most common natural process by which sewage is freed of bacteria is filtration through the soil. If all the bacteria are res moved, the sewage can contain no death: dealing species, but if they are not all removed and the sewage passes into a water supply, the latter will be in danger of in- fectious contamination so soon as the sewagé contains Aisease-producing bacteria.HEALTHY A veritable pest-hole exists in the cellar of many a house otherwise healthily construc- ted. When dark and damp, asso often is the | case, and especially when made the reposi- tory of fuel, ashes, refuse and decaying vegetables and fruit, it furnishes a most favorable spot for the propagation of noxious germs. As.amatter of fact, no part of the house demands more frequent inspection or more thorough airing. Its air is constantly nassing, thzough the floors as well as by way of chimney-flues and air-shatts, to the apart- ments above, and, unless constantly renewed, carries with it all manner of deadly influ- ances, The supreme saaitary importance of the removal of all sewage in order to prevent the development of disease germs is self- evident. Several systems have been pro- posed for this purpose. Among them we note the barrel system ; the pumping system, which isin general use in France and Bel- gium, and which is quicker and safer than the barrel system; the sewer system, which Is) Hest as put in practice in Berlin. By means of large pumps the sewage is raised from the sewers and poured over a large tract of land, upon whicn it spreads, and from which it runs off, after depositing its excre- mentitious matters. Although i+ has been in operation only a few years, this system has proved remunerative, the farmers con- senting to pay good prices for the offal thus collected. In this way matters usually found injurious by the inhabitants of other cities are turned to account by the people of Berlin. Prevention of Sickness. Where the removal of excrement cannot. be accomplished systematically and thor- oughly, care must be taken in regard to the arrangement and disposition of the closets, particularly with a view to the condition of the ground. Decomposition progresses very DWELLINGS, tapidly, and the gases and exhalations pre duced are often repulsive in the extreme. Gases spread very readily underground, as has been repeatedly seen in cases where illuminating gas, escaping from the mains, has entered cellars, basements, and even higher floors of houses. In some of these no gas-pipes or fixtures existed at all, and still the inmates fell sick from inhaling gas because a gas-main in the neighborhood had burst. The principal hygienic rules to be observed in the interest of domestic disinfection are the following: The great danger of sewer gases entering our dwelling houses is best averted by opening a connection between the sewer pipes anda chimney. ‘This furnishes an exit for the gases generated in these pipes, gases whose lightness tends to force them upward, and which escape the more readily if a fire is burning in the range or fire-place below. By this means the offending gases are either destroyed by fire and smoke within | the chimney, or else are dissipated over the roof without finding an opportunity to cause sickness. ‘The pipe must not enter the chimney upon a lower floor than anothe: opening, nor even in its immediate vicinity Noxious Gases. Among the most dangerous appliances iz a modern house are the stationary washbowls and the bath-rooms in its upper stories Traps are wholly insufficient for their in- tended purpose. A better way of keeping gases out of the room, aside from the ar rangement detailed above, consists in closing the drain-hole at the bottom of a tub of basin so as to keep water always standing there. George E. Waring, Jr., in his article on “Drainage and Sewerage,” makes the fol- lowing remarks; “ Running water confined | with a narrow channel, and so compelled te Be en etic eine ENE st er io tar se ee > Ne ees a ees a oe pret 6 PP LPP LIL Sato BY Rb de SA .eee Terr By se kebabcalel-d peeteik oe wet ee td ae FR maid ae i OE aT kl dha bak Be ii te aia ei Patel eat bectee Ws, Be MeRLC als a Oak as i le aah Pee a men : a | Re 2 ey Bh F a 4 a _§ i 4 % 282 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. move with force sufficient to give an ener- getic scouring. to the walls of its conduit, may be trusted to carry with it ot to drive before it pretty nearly all foreign miatter that may have been contributed to it; but the moment this vigorous current is checked, that moment the tendency to excessive de- posit begins. “Tt is checked in practice in various ways: first, by too great a diameter of the pipe; second, by the use of traps larger than the pipes leading to them and from them, thus increasing the natural tendency of all traps to stagnation and deposit; third, by the use of vertical water-pipes, which are almost universal and which are very often necessary. The velocity of a current, measured along the axis of the pipe, is less, if the direction is vertical, than if it is laid on a steep slope, because of the tendency of liquids flowing through vertical pipes, which they do not fill, to adhere to the walls and to travel with a rotary movement. This latter point is rather one of curious interest than of prac- tical value.” Bad Drainage. «¢ However defective may be the condition of an iron soil-pipe, verticai or horizontal, it is perfection itself compared with the usual state of a drain laid under the cellar floor. Under all circumstances, at least in all work hitherto executed, one should de- mand as absolutely necessary that the drains under the cellar floor be removed, that the earth which has been fouled by the leakage of its joints and its breaks shall be taken out to the clean, untainted soil below, and refilled with well-rammed, pure earth or with concrete, the drainage being carried through a properly-jointed iron pipe above the pavement, and preferably with a fall from the ceiling of the cellar to near the fpr at the point of outlet. “Tt sometimes happens that the necessity for using laundry-tubs or other vessels in the cellar makes the retention of an under ground course imperative. When retained, the drain should be of heavy cast iron, with securely leaded joints, tested under a head of several feet. When found to be tight and secure, it should not be, as ording arily recommended, left in an open channel covered with boards or flags and surrounded by a vermin-breeding, unventilarcd, and un- inspected space, but closely and completely imbedded in the best hydraulic cement mer- tar. Its careful testing before this enclosure is of course the only condition under which the work should be permitted.” Frightful Increase of Mortality. We would add, however, that the very best plan for securing freedom from sewef gas in the dwelling is to relegate the bath. room and all pipes connected with the sewers to asmall separate building, which may be connected with the house by means of along covered passage. This passage miust be thoroughly ventilated at all times, and he doors opening from either end must be kept constantly closed. Glazed stoneware of earthenware pipes are to be preferred for house-drains, and should be laid in well- puddled clay or in concrete, care being taken to have the joints well connected. To demonstrate the influence of sewer gas on the general health of a community, the returns of the Registrar-General of Great Britain are cited by several authors. In the year 1847 an order was issued to connect the privies in the city of London with the general sewerage system, thus creating a direct coms munication between the rooms of a” the houses and the public drain. ‘The mortality increased fourfold, as is shown by comparing the statistics of a number of years preceding | 1847 with those of a series of years following.HEALTHY “iis increase, or at least a large part of it, san be traced directly to the effects of sewer gas, and to the poisoning of the well water, particularly to the former. Earth Closets. Where earth closets take the place of sew- its, a Shovelful of earth should be thrown over each dejection. ‘The best earth for the purpose consists of dry clay, two parts, and loam, one part. Dry mould or coal-ash siftings may also be used. Green vitriol should be thrown in when an epidemic is threatened or very hot weather prevails. Disinfection is to be accomplished by means of antiseptics, notably fire, boiling water, chloride of lime in sclution, corrosive sublimate, sulphurous acid, green and blue vitriol, carbolic acid, chloride of zinc, the mineral acids, and chlorine. It is best to use one of the first four mentioned, following it up with one of the others. Carbolic acid Koch has found capable of stopping the de- velopment of micro-organisms when diluted with four hundred parts of water, and cor- rosive sublimate in a solution of thestrength of one to three hundred thousand. ‘The former, a product of coal-tar, is a clear, color- less, oily liquid, which blisters the skin severely in a few moments, is extremely poisonous, and rapidly proves fatal. The fact is to be noted that pure carbolic acid is not so good a disinfectant, and does not destroy bacteria with the same certainty, as when diluted with water; and, farther- more, thet it displays its disinfecting proper- ties to best advantage when in combination with water in the proportion of ten parts in DWELLINGS. 280 of one in five thousand, which will infallibly destroy bacilli, and which fully suffices for most purposes of disinfection, is nevertheless, less poisonous than a five per cent. carbolic solution. In many hospitals a trial of other disinfectants, such as boric and _ salicylic acids, creolin, thymol, and salol, has resulted only, when a thorough destruction of micro- organisms was demanded, in a return to one of these two principal agents. To Disinfect Clothing. Articles to be disinfected must be spread out, not left packed up ina bundle. Corro- sive sublimate attacks most metals in common use, and must therefore not be poured into leaden pipes. A concentrated solution of corrosive sublimate contains four ounces of the chemical in a gallon of water. By adding ten grains of permanganate of potash or a pound of blue vitriol the solution is colored and rendered recognizable. ‘This solution should be left to act for about twe hours. Boiling water takes effect in thirty minutes. Sulphurous acid is most efficacious in damp air. It is always harmful to live for any ' engtl of time in rooms that are damp or cold, rooms having walls dripping with dampness or floors wet from scrubbing, and rooms where clothes are hung to dry. ‘The more moisture the air contains, the less capable is it of absorbing the vapors of our breath and with them the disease-germs we sometimes exhale. ‘These are then partially retained, and impede the inhalation of gure air tick the hundred. Corrosive sublimate in concentrated form is also a violent poison, and it may be reck- oned a great blessing to mankind that it suffices to destroy bacterial life in so attenu- in oxygen. Lungs and Skir. This interference with evaporation from the lungs and skin is very hurtful. It renders difficult the cooling-off process which out aied a solution as to threaten no danger to 19 bodies constantly require, it almost arrests the human organism. A sublimate solution. ee eee eee | ad Cara ee eee ee ee i Se eS Rae ee ks a eo ieee Sclntcnamimgnah avers? pe DI. a ee Ae< S 2 4 Ore Tua ea eae cal alt Peat Sah Le ee ddan Lak ae tae ead 7 Selec EOE ONT EOE a ee 2 SL a ae ee ao "290 and quite neutralizes the activity of our skin, and interferes with the purification of the blood. ‘The best proof of these statements is found in the distressing influence of so- called “muggy weather,” when the tem- perature of the air ig not excessive, but the humidity of the atmosphere is considerable. Dry heat at from ninety to one hundred degrees Fahrenheit is easier borne than tem- peratures below ninety degrees when the humidity is at the point of saturation. Damp air which is at the same time cold is more objectionable than damp warm ait. On the other hand very dry air in living- rooms is very unhealthy. This condition is particularly found in rooms heated by steam, by hot water pipes, or in those heated by means of a furnace, a heater, or even a Com mon stove. A vessel containing water should be kept in every such room upon the stove or near the register. The air heated by a furnace should pass over water before entering the room. Location of the House. Its situation is a most important factor in the choice of a dwelling. ‘The climate, the direction in which it faces, its altitude, its location upcn a hill-side or ina valley, the neighboring rivers, ponds, lakes, swamps, and marshes, whether upon dry, sandy, or rocky soil, all these features are to be con- sidered. ‘The severity of the sun’s rays, the prevailing direction of the wind, temper- ature, and humidity vary in different locali- ties. Rooms facing south are warmer, but subject to greater changes of temperature 5 those facing north are cooler, but preserve a more equable temperature. Houses situated in deep forests or lying between dense clumps of large trees are apt to be unhealthy from dampness. But a wood at some dis- tance from the house is an advantage, since % furnishes abundance of oxygen besides HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. protection from high windsand excessive heat It is best not to live near a factory, mine or hospital, since injurious gases, vapors and dust particles may be developed there. Swamps and marshes, too, are bad neighbors, for the humid air is often vitiated by the emanations of decomposing animal and vegetable matter. ‘These are very unhealthy, often causing marsh fever, malaria, and other ailments. In tropical and sub-tropical re gions, where cold northern winds are unfelt, such swamps may be rendered harmless by planting eucalyptus trees in their vicinity; and sun-flowers, in the temperate zone, may be made to serve a similar purpose in some degree, especially when planted in large numbers. Substitute for Carpets. The carpets of a. house claim a special men tion from us. ‘I'he plan of carpeting floors to which we are accustomed is a decidedly unhealthy one. When the carpets are nailed to the floor in such a way that every portion is covered, the dust which settles upon them can be only partially removed by sweeping, and accumulates in increasing quantity upor the planking below as well as in the meshes o{ the carpet itself This dust, continually raised by every footstep, inevitably renders the air unhealthy; and the evil is increased by the layers of thick paper and cotton wad- ding usually interposed between the floc’ and the carpet by way of lining. The floor should be inlaid, or at any rate laid in hard woods, and should be frequently polished with wax. One large carpet is used to cover the greater part of the room, or perhaps rugs are spread in different places, beneath tables, and before sofas, pianos, book- cases, and other articles of furniture, much as we are accustomed to lay them upon out carpets. ‘This insures much greater cleanli ness and a remarkable absence of dust.Importance value of sound health. It is the condition on which all success in fife depends. A weak, dyspeptic, nerveless, draggy, pale, puny man in any business or profession! He isa dismal failure from the start. A sound mind in a sound body is the first requisite for making the most of yourself and your pursuit. Doctor Mo ell Mackenzie is the physician of the royal family of England and other royal households of Europe, and is a high authority on everything pertaining to health. Here is what he says upon the necessity of proper exercise : In the child the physiological craving for movement shows itself with the unrestrained freedom of the natural animal. Ifa healthy baby is allowed to have free play for its limbs it will go through a series of impro- vised acrobatic performances, twisting its | limbs and turning them into knots that | might excite the envy of a nrofessional ‘ con= tortionist.” It is an excellent plan to give an infant perfect muscular freedom for some time every day; it should be discumbered of any superfluous clothing and laid on a rug or some soft material on the floor and allowed BY ce « need be said concerning the CHAPTER XXiIf. of Exercise. within them thus “cabin’d, cribbed, con fined,” the poor little things must have been metre bundles of helpless misery, and in many cases must have been dwarfed in the growth, if not deformed. The more enlightened among the doctors fulminated against the practice for centuries, but in that as in most other things medica! wisdom cried in the street and no man re garded it. Itneeded the genius of Rousseau to persuade the more civilized part of the world of the senseless cruelty of tight swadd- ling clothes, and even at this day his teach- ing has not entirely prevailed even in his own country. Any traveler in Italy and Spain can see for himself that the sches ‘The exercises on the single bar, and on the parallef to kick and throw itself about to its heart’s content. On the general principle, appar- ently, that every natural tendency is a prompting of the evil spirit, it used to be the universal custom to restrain the move- ments of infants’ limbs by swathing them im innumerable bandages as if they were diminutive mummies. With the eager life bars, are excellent for strengthening the muscles of the body. Make your parallel bars ten or -welve feet in length, each set firmly on two posts, and from 27 to 35 inches apart. For the single bar erect two posts six feet apart. Mortise a zroove in each post, bore holes through the sides of the post into the groove, and also a hole through each end of the bar. Then withan iron bolt you can raise or lower the bar as you like. Raise the body by placing the hands on the bars; then swing forward and backward; bend the arms and lower the body as you swing forward, then straighter them. The latter position is seen in the above figure. 29! ee ee ee eS Ree ee ee Yo ee eee te eee a at ttedn Staten 5 ee ae a ee ee wh , ers | Pee ee ee eee ee 5.3-hekeSeer Se eee vehcatne ee ate ae cs . aan PsP ee tee Ee ward Sele ee ee AE AE a RD GI A AEN AE Oa did 28 Sa RDO NE OTN ARRAY os en eat RS" WOES pg EN OE EIS SS ne de De ed ole - 202 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. master is not abroad as regards infantile hygiene. One effect of the “trussing” of the limbs in infancy may be observed in the crowds of cripples and misshapen creatures that one sees round the doors of churches in Europe. Nothirg strikes the “intelligent foreigner” in England more than the Sigh standard of | Hang apon the bars, as shown in the figure, and swing tne body backward and forward; do not strain she muscles of the arms and chest. physical development and the comparative rarity of deformity in the bulk of the popu- lation. When staying at hotels abroad I have often noticed the admiration aroused among the natives by the superior size and strength of my juvenile countrymen. One reason of this excellence of physique un- doubtedly is that the British baby is from the first allowed an amount of liberty in the use of his limbs befitting the future citizer. of a free country. As the child grows older the boisterousness with which it romps may be taken asa pretty sure index of its state of health. Mr. Her- bert Spencer speaks with a sympathetic in- sight which was hardly to be expected from a philosopher—and, moreover, I believe I may add a bachelor—of the torture which it is to a healthy child to “sit still.” Wordsworth is a physiologist as well as a poet when he says that a child “feels its life in every limb.” But by long-continued confinement and re- straint—that is, by being: made to live under totally unnatural conditions—this wholesome exuberance of vitality may be lost and give place to listlessness and even positive dislikes of play. Good Animals, First of All. In our devouring zeal for the gospel of the three R’s (“readin’, ’ritin’ and ’rithmetic’’) we are apt to forget that, as Mr. Herbext Spencer puts it, “the first requisite for suc- cess in life is to be a good animal.” This is a much more important matter both for the present rising generation and for the future of our race than the precocious passing of “examinations.” ‘Io my mind the physical education of our children is one of the most Place your hands on the ends of the bars, and swing the body forward and backward, bending the arms and elevating the legs, as seen in the figure. urgent questions of the day, and it is one which might well engage the attention of our legislators. | If a small fraction of the attention that 1s given to the rearing of cattle were given to the bringing up of children Walt Whit- man’s prophetic vision of a nation of “sixty millions of magnificent persons” would be be in a fair way of being realized. WeIMPORTANCE OF EXERCISE. | Foot-BALL 3 78 al SA | tat TS ROS REN aera eS See Coos ot ot sind Mf ie va {u WRK \\ \S \\\ e WY \ } JV £F | I nc B iH Sie err: HEALTHFUL SPORTS. CaS Pena en) hy PA ha Rect ts : SE ee ee Pa Nn al eenae . aR RO ee a ale7 wm ae ACL: I 2 ey eo lad Seat AC Gs ow ee a eee a API ee Re ES ns SER. COW PEER NERA CEA LIBRA i Sr enone NE 204 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. have a Minister of Agriculture whose duty it is to see that the four-footed Common- wealth sustains no detriment; why should there not be a Minister of Hominiculture charged with the development of the national resources in respect of that not altogether Ul Swing the body between the bars ; when you come ito the position shown in the figure spring sidewise over the bar, alighting on the feet. It requires agility to do this, but agility is what you are seeking. valueless product, man? The “perfectibil- ity” of the human race depends much more on physical than on mental culture, for in- tellect, energy of will, and strength of moral fibre are largely dependent on sound bodily health. How then are children to be made “good animals?” By the fullest possible develop- ment of their bodily powers. How is this development to be compassed? Adapting Danton’s famous saying, I answer, by exer- cise, by exercise, and yet again by exercise. There can be no dispute about this; the only question is as to the form and amount of the exercise. ‘The period of childhood may be | taken as extending from the age of two or | three years up to puberty. Now what is wanted at this stage is not so much the ac. quisition of muscular strength or skill as 4 solid foundation of general health. In child- hood exercise should be almost exclusively general or hygienic; the less purely local or athletic exercise a growing child has the bet- ter it will be not only for its constitution, but for its future muscular development. Very young children should be encourager to run about, to trundle hoops, or if at the seaside, to build castles, etc., on the sand—it short, to play and romp instead of dawdling, and always hanging upon a nurse. The Kindergarten. Walking about with a nursemaid can hardly be amusing and may be extremely fatiguing to her little charges. Cut them loose and let them romp. In the way of systematic exercise for young children there is nothing better than the kindergarten movements; the fact that they are done ir company with other children and often to the accompaniment of song assimilates these little drills to games and lessens the danger - Wi FA os > LAY N Yo san ATT con = 4 yes TTI iit i Wil ko AL it! Z Y \ I | 4 ASA AS | | Suspend the body as shown im the wgure; ther | raise the body by straightening the arms; repeat only five or six times. of their being looked upon as tasks. Fos older children no methodical exercise, how ever scientifically arranged, can compare with the boisterous outdoor games which bring every muscle into play, lash the hear into a gallop, aud make the vital bellows— the lungs~—bluw the fire of life into a glow i | } | | }Yhe excitement of the game is what doctors would call its “active principle,” for gladness ‘s the best of all tonics. Even the shouting, however it may vex the ears of the old fogys, is in itself an important element in the exercise, as it brings the lungs anc the muscles of the chest and throat into vigorous action. Better than some ’Ologies. It is amelancholy fact, however, that, as Mr. Walter Besant pointed out some years ago, neither children nor young people really xnow how to play. In France games have almost fallen into oblivion, even among the Swing the body betwee te bars a few times; then at go the hands and thro, he body forward, alighting on the feet. shildren of the we _ to-do. some years ago open- r games had become a lost art, and a move nent was set on foot In Belgium by some enlightened educational reformers to teach children to play. ‘The result is that the children are “straighter, stronger and and more gay”—the last point being, even | as regards health, just as important as the others. In the United States physical cul- ture is also beginning to be made a part of the ordinary school curriculum. At Boston, Dr. Edward M. Hartwell has been appointed Doctor of Physical ‘Training m the public schools at a salary of $3000 a vear, and the Lings or Swedish system of IMPORTANCE OF EXERCISE 295 exercises is being intruduced into many American schools. Muscular drill is not quite the same thing as games, but, as Sis Thomas More, said, ‘‘ Marry, it is somewhat.’ I believe it would add immensely to the uses _ Suspend the body under the bars ; then, keeping th: legs straight, turn a summersault, alighting on the feet This is not so difficult a movement as it appears to be fulness of board schools as nurseries of effi- cient citizens, if, as is the case in the public schools of Belgium, their teaching staff in- cluded a professor of games. It would be no loss to the community if a few of the ’ologies with which the brains of poor starvelings are at the present forced into premature ex- haustion were sacrificed to make room fos Suspend yourself as shown in the figure ; then lowe: and raise the body, keeping the legs in a horizontai position. the sound physical and moral training sup- plied by well-ordered play. Among the upper classes, thanks to the somewhat excessive precautions against “ overpressure” taken in our public schools " Shey a Ci Peco ee a * eee as ar SR RCM ERT RS oe We SR Me SS ee ~ a Fae eee La . ‘ re : Ry tee Pee ee Fe a aacrena ae a 8 ae Rn ne ee“Tr 7 gg a Cg es Fes 0 deus a Alor EROS fl eet staat a a a AE AAS OL a TRC BEN Re ae SS EE oe EAVES MRA R won on en AONE MLE IO EL ELLE opr SIE WEEP + Z gompanions—especially football—from fear 296 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. and universities, the youth of this country give at least as much time and attention to the cultivation of their muscles as to that of their brains. It is this early physical train- \¢( Ww" S Fwy Wu wa, *& my ‘i \ ee = ti hy Stand between the bars, and, placing a hand on each | bar, swing the body over one, as seen in the figure, then over the other; repeat ten times. ing that makes the members of that class of | society politely termed “barbarians” by | Matthew Arnold as superior in body as they are often inferior in mind to those who have to bear the yoke of life from their childhood, | Swing the body between the bars, then turn the body so as to bring one leg over the bar, as shown in the figure; then alternate, and bring the other leg over the other bar. Manly Sports. Parents are sometimes unwilling to allow their children to share in the games of their of accidents. On this subject I cannot cx better than quote the words of Dr. Clemens Dukes, whose medical experience of school. boys as physician to Rugby for many years is probably unrivalled. “Tf” he says, with regard to football, “twenty years’ experience at the very birth: place of this much-abused game, played three or four times every week in the winter—and very warm games sometimes, owing to the | rivalry between houses for the glory of being ‘cock house ’—counts for anything, it ought to make parents and doctors consider the matter more thoughtfully. I have never yet had one serious accident from football—no accident more severe than I have had from Place the legs over the bars and lower the uppe: | part of the body; clasp 1%-* bars with your hands and | turn a summersault. cricket, house runs, 2eplechases, swimming paths, gymnasiums: d, above alli, by-play. Ifthe game were al ys played by boys, the outcry against footb: {| must cease.” With regard to ¢irls, I agree with Mrs Garrett Anderson that, with one or two ex: ceptions (among which I should certainly number football, cricket and baseball) they can play at the same games as boys, and they should be encouraged, and, unless physically unfit, compelled to doso. Gymnastics should not, I think, be attempted by girls before the age of twelve or thereabouts, and then they should be carefully adapted to the child’: powers, and should be pursued under the supervision of an experienced medical advisesIMPORTANCE Marching and wheeling, practiced with light dumb bells and staves, etc., especially if the maneuvers are gone through to the accom- paniment of music, are particularly suited to young girls. ‘They give grace and precision to the movements while developing the strength. Benefit of Gymnastics. Adolescence extends from puberty (about fourteen) to twenty-three or thereabouts. Strictly speaking, it reaches to twenty-five, as the growth cannot be considered complete till then. ‘There are two easily distinguish- able periods in adolescence, the first of which is what may be called the maturity of boy- | hood, while the second is the dawn of man- hood. In the former the conditions and Stand between the bars, place the hands on the ends of the bars, then swing the body forward and back- ward, finally throwing the legs over the bars, as shown in the figure. limitations of exercise are much the same as for the prepuberty period. They resolve themselves into this—plenty of exercise, no training. While the body is in active growth all the vital energy seems concentrated on the pro- cess of development. ‘There isno storing up of reserve force as in adult life; every atom of material is immediately used up in meet- ing the wants of the growing organism. Exercise, whether in games or in gymnastic ‘maneuvers, is useful, as helping the due fies et RE very Rais ee Mice Me OF EXERCISE. 297 performance of the vital functions, but any thing like fatigue is most injurious. In estimating the dangers of any particulaz kind of exercise it is ot the giants, but the ordinary sons of men who form the bases of any general formula. The weaker lads are often tall, growth having outrun general development, and in their case violent and | ~ Sa Ta Place the body in a straight position, as seen in the figure ; then walk on the hands forward and backward over the whole length of the bars, placing the hands alternately forward or backward. prolonged muscular exercise should not be permitted till the frame is sufficiently con- solidated to bear the expenditure of nervous and vital energy which it entails. From twenty to thirty it matters little what kind of exercise is taken, so long as it is sufficient without being excessive. For men who live in towns it is often very important to obtain the maximum amount of exercise in a rela- tively short time, and in such cases a gallop for an hour or even three-quarters of an hour answers the purpose well. Fencing, how- ever, is perhaps the most effective form of concentrated exercise, but it has the disad: RA aR eS CN ee UL Aad EP rae ey a ee So pain AMR Rec TRRSTI Rs DST rate inerrant SNS a aca eae : mi ae PE ee Set pe te PRE Re re PR ieee Bail. Sa er - ar =) ned Vs ER ig eae PO ciaoan SR otal ee cae nica -al al cata ek EET Ee Ta ere ak ae OE am ee re nea a A 1 PSS ea cL EC : CE ae ala I aa a ERO ARE OTT TE EER, Se een 298 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. vantage of exercising the right side of the body much more than the left, and thus in some cases producing a slight deviation from perfect symmetry. Value of Rowing. Rowing, or rather sculling, is perhaps the most perfect form of exercise for young men and girls, for nearly all the muscles of the body are brought into play, with the excep- tion of those passing from the front of the chest to the arm. In young persons with a tendency to phthisis or asthma I have many Place yourself on the bars as in the figure, then foosen the hold of the hands and spring forward a few énches, thus moving from one end of the bars to the | other. times seen sculling effect a complete cure During the period of adolescence gymnastics under a competent instructor are often of the most signal service, especially to young people who are naturally awkward or other- wise physically backward. I need not dwell on the necessity of ex- ercise for women further than to say that competent authorities look upon it as the best safeguard against certain diseases pecu- liar to their sex, the enormous prevalence of which at the present day is no doubt in great measure due to the physical indolence which many of them have been taught to consider as a grace rather than a defect—I had almost said a vice. In view of this it is ae ew ere a sign of the times that the Ladies’ | Berkeley Athletic Club, in New York, be« came a flourishing ‘‘institution” in one year. I may say here that I think it isa mistake for women to aim directly at the development of muscle. The Venus of Milo, not the half masculine Amazon, must alway, be the type of physical perfection for thers. Their exercise should therefore be chiefly hygienic rather than athletic. Sports for Girls. A ‘great French anatomist, Cruveilhier, was ungallant enough to say that whatever women might learn to do they never could succeed in running gracefully, Candor compels me to say that I think the indict Place the hands on the bar, and raise and lowes th body, bringing the bar across the chest; repeat only few times. ment true, but that and throwing the bal) are about the only things which they can not do with twice the grace and nearly ali the strength of men. One cannot expect under the storm and stress of active life to maintain his “condi: tion ;” he must be satisfied with having laIMPORTANCE i Youndation of physical strength which will make his subsequent life happier, longer and more useful than it would otherwise have been. His delight in and capacity for most forms of exercise will continue unabated for many years past the age (46) fixed by ~ 4° the Romansas the limit of enlistment. Those requiring elasticity of the bones will be Clasping the bar with both hands, swing forward and backward,bringing the baron the return movement level with the breast, as indicated in the figure. given up first ; foot bail is a dangerous ana- _ chronism after five and twenty. ‘Those call- ing for swiftness of foot will be surrendered next, and the sacrifice is made easier by in- creasing height of body and stiffness of limb. In the borderland between youth and middle age many men are apt to exceed in the matter of exercise, possibly from unwilling: ness to acknowledge that cruel time is begin- ning to cloy them. On the other hand, | those on whom iniddle age has stamped its mark, whose “ wind” is like woman’s love, | as described by Hamlet, and whose waistcoat | is beginning to yield to circumstances, have, as it were, to be driven to the stake of phys- ical exertion. How Much Exercise? he amount and kind of exercise required by people between forty and fifty depends largely on individual peculiarities. There are, however, certain definite standards by which the amount of physical work done in different kinds of exercise can be accurately estimated. It is calculated that an ordinary Ee ey Re Wd OF EXERCISE 209 laborer does work which is the equivalent o1 lifting from three hundred to four hundred tons one foot in a working day, and Pro- fessor Haughton reckons that a man walk- ing on a nearly level surface at the rate of about three miles an hour expends as much force as would raise one-twentieth part of the weight of his body through the distance walked. Now supposing a man weighs r60 pounds, in his clothes, in walking a mile he would raise eight pounds one mile; if he | walked six miles at the same rate he would | have raised 113 tons one foot. ‘This would | represent a fair standard of exercise for a | healthy man of fifty years of age 5 1f younger | he should do rather more, if older he might | do less, Placing the hands on th: bar, swing the body undes, | then over, the bar; repeat five or six times. I have already pointed out that riding is / an excellent “pemmican”’ or concentrated essence of exercise, but it is especially in middle life that Sydenham’s aphorism holds, that the outside of a horse is the best thing for the inside ofa man. Steady going, how- ever, ought to be the rule, and a bishop’s cob is the ideal mount after fifty, except in the case of hunting men, who are always at home in the saddle. SO a re ee on te ee NL Ra See eee ee ane it er a Sateen ST ae. Seen EACRRLR OL ETA a , ‘ ee See PR a ee No a a na aePe al aaah Pe aeefibets aa SENS EE ONAN een Te en ar AIS PS A LR OI ~ DE aad ee OR Es Sa PaaS Se a eta eee Le aati PS Sis. Saeed Deed le a 300 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. Dr. Holmes’ Pithy Saying. Oliver Wendell Holmes, who, it must not be forgotten, is a doctor, and even an ex-pro- fessor of anatomy, as well as a charming writer, speaks with almost Pindaric enthus- iasm of riding, during which the liver “goes up and down like the dasher of a churn in the midst of the other vital arrangemeuxts,” cS i os. y Sey . fs > , Ls U CL us NPR Sb Athy | Fra tH i es ania . 2 —— A ase \ me << — < lh i h if AY 4 GR it \ Dy MER ” L——2__| Un Ys ne ry Ly) fn YW jj ley. ar SS < ( Yi Yj ee dh i i e } i With the arms behind the back, clasp the bar with the hands, then swing the body forward and backward into a horizontal position. while “the brains also are shaken up like coppers in a money-box.” Perhaps the mutual collision of brain cells and “higher centers” may be as stimulating to the intel- lect as the “shock of minds” in debate. For ' those who cannot afford horse exercise there is the tricycle, which, as a means of exercise for the middle-aged, has a great future before it. Dr. Oscar Jennings, an English physi- cian, practicing in Paris, has written a book, in which he tells how he diminished his cir- cumference, which was beginning to give signs of Falstaffian possibilities, and evicted a host of infirmities by cycling alone with- out any other forms of exercise. ‘Then there is golf, an ideal game, but with writers like Arthur Balfour and Mr. Andrew Lang to hymn its praises it needs no additional ride a cycle one hour or walk two how. every day. ‘These exercises may be varied, if the opportunity offers, by rowing or fencing, but I do not, as a rule, recommend to prac: tice swimming after forty. I cannot conclude my remarks on middle age without an emphatic word of warning as to the mistake that is often made by men who rush off to some foreign country after a year ot exhausting brain work, insufficient exercise and too probably over-feeding, and straightway proceed to climb the first hillside they come to or take long fatiguing walks, praise. A great amount of walking is in- volved in this game. To sum up, middle-aged people between, say, thirty-five and fifty-five or sixty, should | Suspend yourself as shown in the figure, then caise the body until your head touches the bar; repeat only a few times. thus passing at once from a long period o! repose to violent exertion, with muscles flabby from disuse and a heart utterly unpre- pared for any sudden call. Can we wonder at the result that often follows? For those over forty-five there can be no doubt that the best view of a mountain is from its foot. Or if they climb, it should be very slowly with frequent stops for rest.CHAPTER XXXII. How to Strengthen the Muscles. & YERYONE admits that it is wiser and C6) better to prevent an evil, while it is in one’s power to do so, than to remedy it afterwards. It is better to avert disease by appropriate means than first to nduce it and then attempt tocureit. Even if, for the preservation of health, some sacri- ice of habits and tastes should be found aecessary, surely this would not be too high a price for the undisturbed enjoyment of a slessing, the absence of which diminishes the value of all other good things in life! It is a generally known and recognized cule for the preservation of health that one should “take a walk” every day. This is, no doubt, beneficial to health. Still, expe- rience shows us that walking is not the in- fallible and all-sufficient means it is supposed to be; for a great many most eager and con- scientious walkers are both weak and ailing, and become worse and worse in spite of their walks. By this we do not mean to say that the walking is the cause of their debility and sickliness, but that this form of exercise does not fulfil al/ the conditions required for exer- cise aiming at the prevention or cure of disease. To serve this purpose the exercises used must be estimated and defined beforehand as to their energy, extent and physiological effects, and chosen accordingly. But in ordi- nary walking, or in riding, driving, rowing, etc., the effects are more or less one-sided and vague. ‘The same defect is also to be found in most forms of labor belonging to the dif- ferent trades and professions, though, of sourse, varying according as these vary. For there is this essential difference between hy: gienic gymnastic movements and those occurring in actual labor, that the former, having as their sole aim the promotion of 2 normal development and action in the human individual, both the position from which the movement starts and the manner in which it is performed are entirely calculated to sub- serve this aim, whereas ordinary labor exacts such attitudes and movements as will best suit the work, even if these should happen to be ever so much inimical to health. The consequence of this is that the more or less one-sided action belonging to most forms of daily occupation in the long run disturbs the harmony of the body, so that even working men often are greatly in need of systematic gymnastic exercises to counter- act the one-sided influence to which their frame has been subjected in their occupation ; how much more, then, persons leading a sedentary life, and having essentially mental occupations ? It is an undeniable fact that suitable bod: ily exercise (together with good food, fresh air, and bathing) is the most important means for the preservation of health. A fire can be kept up by fuel and a free supply of air; an engine can continue work- ing as long as it is provided with sufficient steam-power, and withal kept in a normal state. Now, though the living organism does not bear any essential resemblance te these things, still it should be borne in mind that physical life might continue, without illness, up to old age, if the conditions on which it depends were completely fulfilled 301 Aaa aS eee SOOe Saba tot ot Peso eS | Si ee Ere ries re a a a ek ean ee Be mee PERS eee - noe ‘ CP MoCoPee muir pus itp Re rT testo SDS omg eee ay Fe DP sed lel RE ee eh a Ped al eat ae a tia tes eas n ahtoH pet bel be ee reco ae M2 Send i a ETC SAR oe a a aE Sa SMD AS ye eden bras HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. A YOUNG ATHLETE—TAKEN FROM LIFE, The living organism is absolutely distin- suishett from a machine by the power of regulating for itself the continual production of the amount of heat necessary to its func- tions, and also of determining and directing tts own movements. Heat, motion, and also mental work are dependent on the nutritive mean..—pure ais and proper food; but it is through the action of the various organs that the nutritive material undergoes the changes by means 0} which it can fulfil the conditions indispensa: ble to the sustenance of the vita! forces—- heat, motion, and mental action.Now, it has been proved beyond doubt that, through bodily exercise, the organs may be stimulated to more powerful action, to more abundant absorption of nutriment, in consequence of which both bodily and meutal faculties gain in energy and health; for health is preserved through the energetic and regular activity of the organs, and a dis- ease is cured if the disordered action of the ergans, accompanying it, is brought back to ~ normal state. The influence of movements on the human organism, as a whole, will be more clearly un- derstood by the following remarks on its effects on the functions of the various organs. All parts of the body draw from the blood the material necessary for their development, and the repair of the waste constantly going on within them in producing the forces characteristic of living beings. It follows from this, that new material must constantly be taken up into the blood, instead of that sed up by the organism, or else the compo- sition of the blood will be disturbed, thus rendering it unfit for the proper nutrition of the body. ‘The blood is, in this respect, like a bank, which subsists through equilibrium between expenditure and income. An ener- getic and normal circulation promotes within the blood increased expenditure as well as sncreased income—that is to say, the active and normal exchange of matter and the active and normal renewal and revivifying thus effected in the material of which our body is composed, is—health. The heart is the organ which maintains the circulation of the blood, but bodily exer- cise can most powerfully promote and regu- late the circulation. Every ome may ascet- tain by himself that exercise drives the blood more forcibly to the skin—for instance, as 1s seen in the raised color of the cheeks and HOW TO STRENGTHEN THE MUSCLES. eyes er od wed ertion. ‘The increased heat felt, when taking brisk exercise, is also a proof of a quickened circulation and increased exchange of mater- ial. Moreover, it isa well-known fact that exercise increases the appetite, which indi- cates the want of new material for the blood. This is what actual experience has shown us as to bodily exercise accelerating the circula- tion. But there are also the most convince With body erect and hands at sides, move the head to right and Move the upper part of the With hands on the hips, left. and forward and body to right and left, and backward; strength- forward and backward; this ens the muscles of the ‘Strengthens the muscles of neck. the chest and back. ing theoretical proofs that circulation is promoted by means of muscular exercise. Muscular contractions produce a pressure on the blood-vessels that penetrate or are contiguous to the active muscles. The effect of this pressure is somewhat different in arteries (vessels carrying blood /rom the heart) and in veins (vessels carrying blood zo the heart), on account of the difference in their walls, and in the arrangement of their valves, The arteries have walls endowed with great elasticity, and firmer than those of the veins; hence the blood is under greates the quickened pulse following muscular ex- | pressure in the arteries than in the veins Pa Chee cs Ser aa free CA Sn Rr aaa eR oe ee a Reh Se Dee IIS DPA Ein ni EPPO II SN aa i ae Sen Ne Se" q _ P a ee ee eal a ala AN. ene a i NIA sf a ie talent Resin AI ITED: ELON EE CN SE LAG a EE a Be aa ee ae ee ta RS a Pe Somes ae 304 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. The aorta (the great artery within the trunk) has three valves at its origin from the left ventricle of the heart, arranged so as to hin- der the blood from flowing backwards to the heart. ‘This being so, muscular pressure may be said rather to favor the flow of the blood towards the capillaries than otherwise. Close the hands, extend the arms in front as shown Dy the dotted lines, and bring the hands together behind the back; repeat at least twenty times. This, however, has far less significance than the effect that muscular pressure has on the flow of the blood in the veins. The walls of the veins being softer, and having less elasticity than those of the arteries, they, Consequently, exercise but little pressure on the blood. The contracting muscles, in squeezing the veins, impart additional inotion to the blood. Now, there are pouch- like valves along the inside of the vein-walls, | arranged in such a way that they prevent the blood from flowing backwards to the capillaries, but permit it to flow in the cirection of the heart; consequently, muscu- lar pressure on the veins must needs drive the blood forwards towards the heart. Nor is this all. By movements, such as bending, stretch- ing, etc., the veins are alternately shortened of them acts with a kind of sucking force on the blood within. ‘The outer wall of the veins adheres at certain places (especially near the joints) to over-lying tissues, and is raised by certain motions, so that the diame- ter of the vessel becomes enlarged, a circum- stance which also contributes to suck, as it were, the blood towards the heart. From these circumstances it is evident that muscular exercise greatly influences the cir- culation, by assisting the flow of the yenous blood towards the heart. In proportion as the movements are comprehensive, being applied to all parts of the body, and adapted to its strength, their effect on the circulation is more powerful. Stand erect, with arms straight at the sides; raise and lower the arms as shown in the figure ; repeat at least twenty times. But it is also possible to regulate by move- ments the supply of blood to each different organ, so as to produce sfeczal effects. ‘Thus, undue affluence of blood to an organ where it may prove dangerous can be relieved by means of appropriate movements, so calcu- lated as to carry the blood to parts where it and extended, and this alternate stretching causes no harm.This shows us the importance ot exercise for the preservation of health, and the necessity of a rational treatment by move- ments in all its disturbances. From the great influence that muscular action has on the circulation comes the fact that appropriate movements are the most efficient curative means for diseases of the heart. In sevére cases of heart disease the patient should always have recourse to a person qualified to give medical gymnastics, who will give him “passive” movements and such “active”? movements as are calculated to draw the blood towards the periphery of the body without throwing any strain upon the heart. Hold the right artn out horizontally, palm of hand apward; double tbe left arm, the tips of the fingers resting on the shoulder ; then stretch out the left arm, at the sane time bringing “he right arm to the position shown by the dotted lines repeat, and then make the movements with both arms simultaneously. The want of food announces itself, under ati.nal circumstances, through hunger ; in- sufficient nourishment manifests itself through emaciation; and no one can live without food, ‘These are well-known facts. It is also generally known that the food must undergo certain changes in the alimentary canal before it becomes fit to be taken up in 20 nas HOW TO STRENGTHEN THE MUSCLES. 305 the blood and distributed for the maintenance of the organism. For the due and prompt production of these changes it is indispens able that the digestive organs should be in a strong and healthy state. And this depends in great measure on the manner in which we treat them. ‘The laws of life are imperae tive, and will exact severe retribution if, violated. | Holding the arms straight, swing them with a rotary motion, thrusting them forward as they are elevated and backward as they are lowered, bringing th ax to the sides, and then repeat. Bodily exercise is an indispensable condi- tion for securing healthy digestive organs and an easy digestion. The changes which the food undergoes in the alimentary canal are partly mechanical and partly chemical , consequently, both mechanical and chemical forces are necessary for effecting them. ‘The former are supplied by the teeth and the muscular parts in the alimentary canal, the latter by the alimentary secretions—the saliva, the gastric juice, and the intestinal secretions. ‘The muscles in the alimentary canal, with the exception of those at the be ginning and the end, are of the kind that are uot dependent on the will (‘involuntary Se eee oe ee ee TN ty ee cee i eS ee soo Se hee ene PIO MTEL. Bate a he ee bent 2.8 ee ie eae ae A nd ee =yeah A meets. Ck cee Da lala O-Ra ete Cute ae od Sa oe nl LGPL LOTT LIS POI Sedalia rac a Oe ae as a aE aE No al I al Pa . eee Ne ne eS RE La a ae Se Searle ter aa RM eben a6 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. a ~ muscles”), but they may be indirectly acted | upon by voluntary movements. It is known by experience that strong ab- dominal muscles are found where there is good digestion; and that, on the contraty, weakness in these muscles is accompanied by weakness in the digestion. It has also — Lift the hands from the sides to the shoulders, then raise the arms at full length above the head, and also extend them horizontally, as shown in the dotted lines. ee been established that movements which bring the abdominal muscles to contract strongly, have a strengthening influence on the diges- tive organs. This is in some measure e€x- plained by the fact that contractions of the muscles, which are dependent on the will (“voluntary muscles’) call forth sympathetic contractions of the involuntary muscles (as, for instance in the eye-ball). Thus it is evident that appropriate bodily exercise has the effect of developing and preserving strong and healthy digestive organs. Many disturbances in the diges- tive functions would be prevented if this simple and natural means were duly em- ployed. Chronic stomach catarrh, constipa- tion, hemorrhoidal complaints, aud other abdominal disturbances, besides many other diseases which are consequences of these might either be prevented or cured by a due practice of appropriate movements. By means of respiration through the lungs, oxygen is conveyed from the air to the blood, and distributed to all parts of the body. The oxygen combines itself with such substances as are useless or injurious to the body, and these “waste products” are carried with the blood to the lungs, the skin, the intestinal tue, and the kidneys, there to be excreted and removed from the body. The importance of a powerful respiration, by means of which plenty of oxygen is taken in and much waste matter given off, is evident, and no one can be ignorant of the effect that exercise has in increasing respira tion and the respiratory power. SSS Standing erect, with Placing the hands on the the hands on the hips, hips, right leg forward and lower the body as left leg slightly bent, bring shown in the figure, the body into the position and rise; repeat at of the dotted lines; then least fifteen times, but placing the left leg forward, not too fast. repeat movements. Deep and calm breathing is preferable to rapid and superficial. The latter way of breathing is insufficient, and indicates weak- ness, whereas calm and deep breathing sup. poses powerfully developed respiratory organsDuring and after exercise respiration is both frequent and deep; thus a greater amount of oxygen is taken in, and waste matter (car- bonic acid, etc.) given off. A wide and mobile chest is generally a sign of strength in the organs of respiration. That bodily exercise develops these organs may be seen in strong laborers, seamen, and soldiers, and still more in those who make use of gymnastics in a rational manner. Contrast with these the narrow and little- movable chest of those who lack physical education, and, in consequence of occupation or deficient energy of will, are deprived of the HOW To STRENGTHEN THE MUSCLES. 30/ the great elasticity of the lungs, they react against the pressure of the air, and tend te shrink from their surroundings. ‘This causes a diminished pressure of the air from within the lungs on the heart and the large blood. vessels lying within the chest, outside and between the lungs; this again acts with an attractive or sucking force on the bloo? towards the heart. eS Ce emer NAT) a x bodily exercise. £ Place the hands on the front side of the hips, bend the body forward, and then rise to an erect position; at the same time throwing the head backward; repeat. With the body bent forward, closed hands be- tween the knees, raise the body and elevate the hands above the head, taking care to keep the arms straight; repeat. Respiration also facilitates the circulation of the blood. ‘The lungs would not, if left to their natural volume, fill the whole cavity of the chest; but the air that rushes in through the air tubes expands them and keeps them close to the inside of the chest, which is widened by the action of the muscles concerned in inspiration. In consequence of a 3 PD necessary amount of | Steady yourself with one hand on a chair; place the other hand on the hip and swing the leg as shown in the figure; repeat, and then swing the other leg in like manner. Now, it is true that this sucking force would tend to retain the blood in the arteries with a force corresponding to that which, in the veins, sucks the blood towards the heart. if the walls and the arrangement of the valves were quite alike in the arteries and veins. But, as before mentioned, the blood in the large arteries is under great pres: sure, owing to the high elasticity of the walls in these vessels, whereas the pressure is very slight in the veins, their walls having but little elasticity. Moreover, the walls of the arteries are firm and resist the suction, whereas those of the veins are soft and yield to it. Finally, the three semilunar valves between the aorta and the left ventricle (being shut ere a ee ee ee a BS ‘a ee ee ' a So Sinn ne EN Rc taioetaainatiatninntinaaa ae pe NS APak eT te BRO" ee no wantin ‘ Se As See aE A tal Oe Ciro ee eI en a eT a ESE ak aE RI os Sapa oe a a RE CET 308 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. during the ‘‘diastole,” or widening of the heart), preventing any backward flow of the blood in the arteries, and the veins being provided with valves all along their inside, which open in the direction towards the heart, there is no hindrance to the flow of he blood forwards in this direction. The sonsequence of all this is that the diminished pressure cn the heart and the large vein- ‘runks within the chest (above referred to) | distributed to every part of the body, thus affording the opportunity for the various glands to secrete out of it the fluids (“‘secre tions”) necessary to digestion and other pur poses. ‘The blood also takes up the waste ‘promotes the circulation in the veins towards . he heart, but has little influence on the cir- ‘ulation in the arteries. Steady yourself with one hand ona chair, place the sther hand on the hip, and swing the leg forward and backward; repeat, and then swing the other leg in like manner. To sum up shortly, exercise develops strong respiratory organs, by the energetic action of which circulation is facilitated, and also a richer exchange between the air and the blood induced. Just as a strong current of air keeps up a brisk fire—supposing there be sufficient provision of fuel—just soa power- ful respiration stimulates the functions of the prgans, and thus accelerates the process of renewal and exchange of material in all parts of the body, supposing of course, that there be at the same time a good supply of food stuffs. By means of its circulation, the blood is \ Stretch the body forward, placing the hands on 2 chair; then straighten the arms and raise the body. This must not be repeated so many times as to render the muscles sore and stiff. matters from the tissues and throws them off | through the agency of the lungs, the skin, the kidneys, aud the intestinal tube (the | bowel). ‘The rapid and complete throwing | off of the waste matters is not less important | for the preservation of the body than an | abundant supply of appropriate food stuffs, i. eS AY Ne This figure shows the position of the body after it &, raised from the chair according to directions accom: panying preceding figure; donotmakethe movements rapidly, as this will produce exhaustion. Muscular exercise increases the circulation and the pressure o° the blood within the very small arteries, which causes an increased transudation of nutritive material to fill the interspaces of surrounding textures; whereai it diminishes the pressure of the bicod |EE shown by the figure; this throws the chest forward $ then bend and straighten the legs alternately. the very small veins, thus facilitating the exchange of matters between the blood and the fluid contents of the textural interspaces. An accelerated circulation in the veins facilitates the absorption of the waste mat- ters, and also causes the absorption from the alimentary canal of a greater quantity of nutritive material, so as to preserve the normal composition of the blood. Now, it being a proved fact that appro- priate exercise induces this accelerated cir- culation, this rapid renewal of the tissues, it follows, asa matter of course, that such exer- cise is indispensable to health. For, let me repeat it, a rapid and normal renewal of the material in the body zs health. Just as under ordinary circumstances the merchant’s profit is great in proportion as business ts brisk 5 such is also the case with the human organ- ism; it gains in health and strength by a yapid and duly balanced exchange of mate- tial, and we have seen that bodily exercise facilitates both the renewal of the tissues and the throwing off of the refuse. er WW ‘ With arms bent, hold the wand behind the back as The idea that exercise must havesome effect HOW TO STRENGTHEN THE MUSCLES. on the organs of movement is so apparent that one is apt to draw inferences at a glance 399 as to the physical power of the individual, but as to his state of health as well. The very fact that the organs of movement form such a preponderating portion com- pared to other organs—their weight being about nine-tenths of the whole—suggests at once that a powerful development of those organs must have a great influence on the organism as a whole. This is an exercise to strengthen the muscles of the wrists and arms, and consists in holding the dumb bells out and bending the wrist each way as far as possible. Prolonged action tires the muscle, the weariness resulting from a waste within its substance, a destruction of the contracting muscular elements, But the fatigue disap- pears after due rest, in consequence of the used-up material having been removed Now, movements do not diminish the volume of the muscle ; on the contrary, they increase it, if applied within due limits. ‘This shows that new substances have made good the used-up material, and this in increased mea sure, thus corroborating what has been de monstrated elsewhere as to muscular exercise accelerating circulation and increasing the absorption of nutritive material, the demand for this manifesting itself in an increasee %om the condition of these organs, not only appetite.Aa 310 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. Muscular action, as well as the increased heat accompanying it, are forces developed at the expense of the nutritive material; but these ate the very things that cause the mus- cles to gain in bulk and strength, supposing they be provided with sufficient nutritive material, and that there be due intervals of sest; otherwise the muscles would not be able to absorb the necessary nutriment, and consequently would begin to waste instead. ec SSS Ss With arms extended side- a wise, palms downward, Hold the: bells high lower the bells to the sides ab the head, then and raise them; repeat, } a nad Lapa the then strike the bells together arms at least a dozen in front and behind the fame. back. Appropriate exercise is not only necessary for the normal development and the rapid renewal of the muscles, but also for the strengthening of the passive organs of move- ment—the bones and the ligaments that keep these together in the joints. The importance of strong and healthy organs of movement for the duties of life in general, but more especially for the preserva- tion and restoration of health, is evident from the fact that it is possible to influence, through action of the muscles, not ony the gegenerative process of the organismi as a @hole, but, any special part of the body. But the development of the organs Gj | movement may be carried beyond the hinits a for real health, as health has for its basis§, certain harmony and equilibrium between the different organs that constitute the organism ; and it isan undeniable physiologic cal fact that excess in the development of one organ brings about weakness in another, to the detriment of health (as is often seen in acrobats and athletes), But so it is with all good things that are used in excess; and yet this does not deprive them of their qualities of goodness and usefulness when used with sense and moderation. For more than two thousand years the dumb bell has been in use as a means of - > wan asemap se ig OO ~ ee ‘ee, This figure shows the rotary motion with dumb belis Bend the body forward, resting the weight on one foot, then un the other, swinging the bells low as you change from one foot to the other. physical culture. It was highly prized by the Greeks. Many advantages are justly claimed in its behalf. If used in private, it occupies little space either at rest or in action, For the same reason it is excellent in the training of large classes. Although not te | be compared with the New Gymnastic Ring.HOW TO STRENGTHEN THE With one leg bent touch the floor with the bells, the knee of the bent leg coming between the arms; then change the position as shown in the figure; repeat fifteen times. soon to be described, the Dumb Bell deserves its great popularity. Among the Greeks it had a peculiar shape, and in this respect has undergone many changes, of which something will be said hereafter. known. t } APOC } ae. this carries the ball across the goal line. RULE 4.—(a) A touch-down is made when | 2 che ball is carried, kicked, or passed across | _ . a | seize the ball or tackle a player. RULE 9.—Charging is rushing forward ts RULE 10.—Interference is using the hane. or arms in any way to obstruct ot hoic : player who has not the ball, not the rumne: RULE 11.—The ball is dead I. When the holder has cried down, 6% when the referee has cried down, or whe the umpire has called foul. II. When a goal has been obtained. Ill. When it has gone into touch, o touch in-goal, except for punt-out. | IV. When a touch-down or safety bas | beeu made.HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS. ¥Y. When a fair catch has been heeled. No play can be made while the ball is dead, except to put in play by rule. RULE 12.—The grounds must be 330 feet in length and 160 feet in width, with a goal placed in the middle of each goal line, com- nosed of two upright posts, exceeding 20 eet in height, and placed 18 feet 6 inches «part, with cross-bar 10 feet from the ground. RULE 13.—The game shall be played by ; 4 u v 333 Committee. The referee shall be chosen by the two captains of the opposing teams in each game, except in case of disagreement, when the choice shall be referred to the Ad- visory Committee, whose decision shall be final, All the referees and umpires shall be permanently elected and assigned, on or before the third Saturday in October in each year. RULE 15.--(a) The umpire is the judge BOLLE RLE LINDA. ETE “~ me 4 3 e 2 { m3 a i f Q c 2 in Touch, E = 3 bee 0 ; a ' S, a Touch or bounds. 330 feet Youck or Rounds. é = a g ll Ft Deters cages a ae ace g war a4 Page ae ee ayo es ee eae é © 3 ar © vi i +o fet 5 bey A f, 8 bs : rat | o s é ee 44 oS : 6 A oY ia O a | i 3 d B te pe . 3 the : i 2 hors a 2 fac} eo ee 9 ey | SO ~ , : } | i ; ONS pe occls 2 > | 2 ON ae 5 Yel O } > ‘ Bah © : eich) = os © gs : E GO ee te o So oe — i b @ = 2 | 3 o 3 . O J reece Hts = f eg i es s § E on : k 4 $ Oo : pay ee to a tne ( a : . aD spunog 10 Ton0y say Or spunog Io qonoy 3 « = ° } Q. (5 = 3 { a 3 “apm, ts ee “y ° 3 be . Gey = | 4 SERS OS aK 7 — TG ee A SE ‘. eams of eleven men each; and in case of i disqualified or injured player a substitute gall take his place. Nor shall the disquali- fied or injured player r-curn to further par- ticipation in the game. RULE 14.—There shall be an umpire and a referee, No man shall act as an umpire whe is an alumnus of either of the com- set'ug colleges. The ampires shall be smninated and elected by tus Advisory | for the players, and his decision is final re- garding fouls and unfair tactics. (2) The referee is judge for the ball, ane his decision is final in all points not covered by the umpire. (c) Both umpire and referee shall use whistles to indicate cessation of play on fouls and downs. ‘The referee shall use 2 stop watch in timing the game. Rus 16.--{a: The time of a game is ov ee SNE ne ae ee ese ne i aT ed ea Sees en ne a eS 3. . . — ee Ie a oS er ce. ss) nial “ Ce taal tt Se eee7 5 : 2 A a ¥ : 3 4 7 e 4 ° 2 e f LA A 2 OM a deca a ah ‘ ate is ei a ake ak ar AS A Mt einen Ce eae a a 334 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. sour and a half, each side playing forty-five Geass from each goal. ‘There shall be ‘en minutes’ intermission between the two RULE 22.—The side which has a free-kick ualves. ‘The game shall be decided by the | must be behind the ball when it is kicked score of even halves. Either side refusing to | At kick-off the opposite side must stand af play after ordered to by the referee, shall for- least ten yards in front of the ball until it is feit the game. This shall also apply to refus- | kicked. ing to commence the game when ordered to | some spot behind that mark on a parallel te touch line. RULE 23.-—Charging is lawful for oppo nents if a punter advances beyond his line or in case of a place-kick, immediately the | ball is put in play by touching the ground end of each half. | In case of a punt-out, not till ball is kicked, , (d) 'Time shall not be called for the end of RuLE 24.--(a) A player is put offside, if a three-quarter until the bali is dead; and in during a scrimmage, he gets ‘n foun te the case of a try-at-goal from a touch-down : by the referee. ‘The referee shall notify the | eaptains of the time remaining not more than ten nor less than five minutes from the ball, or if the ball has been last touched by the try shall be allowed. Time shall be taken his own side behind him. It is impossible out while the ball is being brought out either pe for a player to be offside in his own goal for a try, kick-ont or kick-off. No player when off-side shall touch the ball, XY . e 6 —N rearing projecting | . : ’ Ese oe eee ae & ! or interrupt, or obstruct.opponent with his aails or iron plates on his shoes or any metal substance upon his person, shall be allowed | to play in a match. No sticky or greasy | substance shall be used on the person of hands or arms until again on-side. b) A player being offside is put on-side when the ball has touched an opponent, of when one of his own side has run in front of olayers. 5. The ball ey | him, either with the ball, or having touched ULE 10.— bali goes into touch when | . : : RULE 1 + os fe hold it when behind him. it crosses the side line, or when the hoider . uc (c) If a player when offside touches the rt of either foot across or on that line. | fos puts pa : oa we | ball inside the opponents’ five yard line, the The touch lire .s in touch and the goal line | ball shall go as a touch-back to the oppo- in goal. nents. RULE 25.—No player shall lay his hands upon, or interfere by use of hands or arms, with an opponent, unless he has the ball. The side which has the ball can only inter: fere with the body. ‘The side which has not the ball can use the hands and arms, as here. tofore. RULE 26.—(a) A foul shall be granted fon intentional delay of game, offside RULE 19..—The -aptains shall toss up be- fore the commencement of the match, and the winner of the toss shall have his choice of goal or of kick-off. ‘The same side shail not kick-off in two successive halves. RULE 20.—The ball shall be kicked off at he beginning of each half; and whenever a goal has been obtained, the side which has fost it shall kick-off. RULE 21.—A player who has ,.ade and jaimed a fair catch shall take a drop-kick, er punt, or place the ball for a place-kick, “he opponents may come up to the catcher’s maark, aud the ball must be kicked frona play, of holding an opponent, unless he has the ball. No delay arising from any cause whatsoevet shall continue more than five minutes. (6) ‘The penalty for fouls and violation of rides, except otherwise nrovided, shall be agown for the other side; or, if the side mak- ing the foul has not the ball, five yards to the opponents, : RULE 27.—(a) A player shall be disquali- tied for unnecessary roughness, hacking or siking with closed fist. (6) For the offences of throttling, tripping 4p or intentional tackling below the knees, the opponents shall receive twenty- five yards, or a free-kick at their option. In ease, however, the twenty-five yards would carry the ball across the goal line they can have half the distance from the spot of the offence to the goal line, and shall not be al- lowed a free-kick. RULE 28.—A player may throw or pass the ball in any direction except towards op- ponents’ goal. If the ball be batted in any direction or thrown forward it shall go down on the spot to opponents. RULE 29.—If a player when off-side in- terferes with an opponent trying fora fair eatch, by touching him or the ball, or wav- ing his hat or hands, the opponent may have a free-kick, or down, where the interference occurred. RULE 30.—(a) Ifa player having the ball be tackled and the ball fairly held, the man so tackling shall cry “held,” the one so tackled must cry “down,” and some playe. of his side put it down for a scrimmage. The snapper back and the man opposite him cannot pick out the ball with the hand until it touch a third man ; nor can the opponents touch the ball until it is in motion. ‘The snapper back is entitled to but half the ball. If the snapper back be off-side in the act of snapping back, the ball must be snapped again, and if this occurs three times on same | down, the ball goes to opponents. The man who first receives the ball when snapped back from a down, or thrown back from a “4°, shall not carry the ball forward under HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS. consecutive fairs and downs, unless the hall cross the goal line, a team shall not hav - ad vanced the ball five or taken it back twenty yards, it shall go to the epponents on sput of fourth. “Consecutive” means without leaving the hands of the side holding it, and by a fair kick giving opponents fair and equal chance of gaining possession of it. (6) The man who puts the ball in play in a scrimmage cannot pick it up until it has touched some third man. ‘“ Third man” means any other player than the one putting the ball in play and the man opposite him. RULE 31.—If the bali goes into touch, any circumstances whatever [i ic ‘hiee | whether *t pounds back or not, a player or | the side which touches it down must bring it to the spot where the line was ¢rossed, and there either: I. Bound the ball in the field of play, oy touch it in with both hands, at right angles to the touch line, and then run with it, kick it, or throw it back; or II. Throw it out at sight angles to the touch line; or III. Walk out with it at right angles to touch line any distance not less than five nor more than fifteen yards, and there put it down, first declaring how far he intends | walking. ‘The man who puts the ball in must face field or opponents’ goal, and he alone can have his foot outside touch line. Anyone, except him, who puts his hands of feet between the ball and his opponents’ goal is offside. If it be not thrown out at right angles, either side may claim it thrown over again, and if it fail to be put in play fairly in three trials it shall go to the oppon- ents, RULE 32.--A side which has made 2 touch-down in their opponents’ goal ms: try at goal, either by a place-kick or a punt: out. ak eS CS a mer NT) eS cr il ee - : - " a en? eae 2 . sh 5 ig Sat a a EEE “pw ee ~— * enn a dal rep PEF eey RS au ee aide em eek eh ee - NA NAIA. ns EF PE Sorin cantare SP ETO Soeckae-eerian” < } ¥ H bs é ‘ b “ : . i # ae 430 wow TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. RULE 33.~—-(a) If the try be by a place- RuLE 36.—The following shall be the kick, a player of the side which has touched | value of each point in the scoring : the ball down shall bring it up to the goal Goal obtained by touch-down,,......--.+>-» 6 ine, and making a mark opposite the spot Goal from field ick, :essasseeqsaeaee 5 where it was touched down, bring it out at Touch-down failing ZOAl,...reevessereeeres F > : : Safety by opponents,....+ sey paues areca iecss right angles to the goal line such distance meee as he thinks proper, and there place it for BASE BALL. another of his side to kick. The opponents | The Ball Ground. must remain behind their goal line until the | Rute —The ground must be an em ball has been placed on the ground. | closed field, sufficient in size to enable eack (5) 'The placer in a try-at-goal may be off- | player to play in his position as required by side or in touch without vitiating the kick. ! these Rules. RULE 34.—If the try be by a puntout, the | punter shall bring the bali ap to the goal | ground thirty yards square. line, and making a mark opposite the spot where it was touched down, punt-out from | any spot behind line of goal and not nearer the goal post than such mark, to another of his side, who must all stand outside of goal line not less than fifteen feet. If the touch- down was made in touch in goal, the punt- RULE 2.—The Infield must be a space of The Bases. RULE 3-—The Bases must be: SECTION 1. Four in number, and desig- nated as First Base, Second Base, ‘Third Base and Home Base. SECTION 2. ‘The Home Base must be of : : whitened rubber twelve inches square, so out shall be made from the intersection of e 4 » § fixed in the ground as to be even with the the goai and touch lines. The opponents | ~~ ae mie ' surface, and so placed in the corner of the may line up anywhere on the goal line, - oo me ; except space of five feet on each ee sr aun | infield that two of its sides will form part of ter’s mark, but cannot interfere with punter, | nor can he touch the ball after kicking it | until it touch some other player. If a fair | catch be made from a punt-out, the mark ee shall serve to determine positions as the mark | - {ft material, and so placed that ie center of any fair catch. Ifa fair catch be not | of the second base shall be upon its corner of made the ball shall go to the opponents at the | the infield, and the center of the first and ; : third bases shal ' ae : spot where it first strikes the ground. . bases shall be on the lines running to and from second base and seven and one-half inches from the foul lines, providing that each base shall be entirely within the foul lines. the boundaries of said infield. SECTION 3. ‘The First, Second and Third Bases must be canvas bags, fifteen inches square, painted white, and fillea with some RULE 35.—A side which has made a touch- back or asafety must kick out from not more than twenty-five yards outside the kicker’s goal. If the ball go into touch before strik- ; . ; SECTION 4. Ali:hebases < : ing a player it must be kicked out again ; 4 | che bases must be securely and if this occurs three times in stccession | fastened in their positions, and so placed as | to ve distimctly seen by the ire it shall be given to opponents as in touch on | y seen by ne twenty-five yard line on side where it went | sali Gorge ages ae eut. At kick-out opponents must be on | RULE 4 twenty-five yard line, nearer their own goat, | in -The Foul Lines must be drawn straigh* lines from the outer corner ofPapeete ee Karey ay shod See Roar eee p eC CN { Ce te HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS, oe ae CENTRE @ “@ ae 2d BASEMAN oe 1st BASEMAN @ AOS ea Rn a aa ERR aa ee + a SRE. fea tn o 7 @ FEET SMAN + "® i oY. — Ki & n i a rcer . BATSMAN i Vv & a NG C/E Ye 7 & ~~ x. - CATCHER ~~ & Ni , UMPIRE : a ee SSR re AED ASE = “ / CATCHERS FENCE ‘ CORRECT DIAGRAM OF A BASE BALL GROUND. A. A. A.— Ground reserved for Umpire, Batsman and Catcher. B. B.—Ground reserved for Captain and Assistant. C.—Players’ Bench. D.—Visiting Players’ Bat Rack. E.—Honie Players’ Bat Rack. RR NC aa coe a oe oe a) ec ia a) Reen —— ie alee Cn weds 1k UTNE seer TES NG ESET TOT AA a a ra pies Ta erie ming oda cenhe aS SG ELT ONL EN I cde neriai aa Fe abcess Der ae ieee aa a a ea S38 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. the Home Base, along the outer edge of the First and ‘Third Bases, to the boundaries of the Ground. The Position Lines. RULE 5.—The Pitcher’s Lines must be straight lines forming the boundaries of a space of ground, in the infield, five and one- half feet long by four feet wide, distant fifty feet from the center of the Home Base, and so placed that the five and one-half feet lines would each be two feet from and parallel with a straight line passing through the renter of the Home and Second Bases. Each corner of this space must be marked by a fat round rubber plate six inches in diameter, fixed in the ground even with the surface. RULE 6.—The Catcher’s Lines must be drawn from the outer corner of the Homie Base, in continuation of the Foul Lines, straight to the limits of the Ground back of Home Base. RULE 7.—The Captain’s or Coacher’s Line must be a line fifteen feet from and paraliel with the Foul lines, said lines commencing at a line parallel with and seventy-five feet distant from the Catcher’s Lines, and runn- ing thence to the limits of the grounds. RULE 8.—The Player’s Lines must be drawn from the Catcher’s Lines to the limits of the Ground, fifty feet distant from and parallel with the foul lines. RULE 9.—The Batsman’s Lines must be straight lines forming the boundaries of a space on the right, and of a similar space on #-e left, of the Home Base, six feet long by { w wide, extending three feet in front of and three feet behind the center of the Home Base, and with its nearest line distant six inches from the Home Base. RULE 10.—The Three Feet Lines must be drawn as follows: From a point on the Foul drawn a line on Foul Ground, at a righ! angle to said Foul Line, and to a point three feet distant from it; thence running parallel with said Foul Line, to a point three feet distant from the First Base; thence in a straight line to the Foul Line, and thence upon the Foul Line to point of beginning. RULE 11.——-The lines designated in Rules 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, aud 10 must be marked with chalk or other suitable material, so as to be distinctly seen by the Umpire. They must all be so marked their entire length, excepi the Captain’s and Player’s Lines, which must be so marked for a distance of at least thirty- five yards from the Catcher’s Lines. The Ball. RULE 12.—-The Ball. SECTION I. Must not weigh less than five nor more than five and one-quarter ounces avoirdupois, and measure not less than nine nor more than nine and one-quarter inches in circumference. The Spalding League Ball or the Reach American Associa- tion Ball must, be used in all games played unde these rules. SECTION 2. For each championship game two balls shall be furnished by the Home Club to the Umpire for use. When the ball in play is batted over the fence or stands, on to foul ground out of sight of the players, the other ball shall be immediately put into play by the Umpire. As often ag one of the two in use shall be lost, a new one must be substituted, so that the Umpire may at all times, after the game begins, have two for use. The moment the Umpire delivers a new or alternate ball to the pitcher if comes into play, and shall not be exchanged until it, in turn, passes out of sight on to foul ground. At no time shall the ball be inten- tionally discolored by rubbing it with the Line from Home Base to First Base, and equally distant from such bases. shall be soil or otherwise. SECTION 3. Inall games the ball or balls(Tie Lion ie oe ae bin ee? rate | ee ok eee HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS. played with shall be furnished by the Home lub, and the last ball in play becomes the property of the winning club. Each ball to be used in championship games shall be ex- aniined, measured and weighed by the Secre- sary of the Association, inclosed in a paper box and sealed with the seal of the Secretary, which seal shall not be broken except by the Umpire in the presence of the Captains of the two contesting nines after play has been called. SECTION 4. Should the ball become out f shape, or cut or ripped so as to expose the yarn, or in any way so injured as to be—in the opinion of the Umpire—unfit for fair use, the Umpire, on being appealed to by either Captain, shall at once put the alternate ball into play and call for a new one. The Bat. RULE 13.—The Bat : SECTION 1. Must be made wholly of wood, except that the handle may be wound with twine, or a granulated substance applied, not to exceed eighteen inches from the end. SECTION 2. It must be round, except that a portion of the surface may be flat on one side, but it must not exceed two and one- half inches in diameter in the thickest part, and must not exceed forty-two inches in length. The Players and their Positions. RULE 14.—The players of each Club ina game shall be nine in number, one, of whom shall act as Captain, and in no case shall less than nine men be allowed to play on each side. RuLE 15.—-The players’ position shall be such as may be assigned them by their Cap- tain, except that the Pitcher must take his position within the Pitcher’s Lines, as defined in Rule 5. When in position on the feld, all players will be designated “ Fielders”” in 53¢ RULE 16.—Players in uniform shall not be permitted to seat themselves among the spectators. RULE 17.—Every Club shall be required to adopt uniforms for its players, and eack player shall be required to present himself upon the field during the said game in a neat and cleanly condition; but no player shall attach anything to the sole or heel of his shoes other than the ordinary base bal! shoe piate. The Pitcher’s Pos:tion. RULE 18.—The pitcher shall take his position facing the batsman with both feet square on the ground, one foot on the rear line of the “box.” He shall not raise either foot, unless in the act of delivering the ball, nor make more than one step in such de- livery. Heshall hold the ball, before the delivery, fairly in front of his body, and in sight of the Umpire. When the pitcher feigns to throw the ball toa base he must resume the above position and pause momen tarily before delivering the ball to the bat The Batsmen’s Positions—Order of Batting. RULE 19.—The batsmen must take thei: positions within the Batsmen’s Lines, as de fined in Rule 9, in the order in which they are named on ¢he score,which must contair the batting order of both nines, and be suk | mitted by the Captains of the opposing teams to the Umpire before the game, and wher approved by him THIS SCORE must be fol- lowed except in the case of a substitute player, in which case the substitute must take the place of the original player in the batting order. After the first inning the first striker in each inning shail be the bats- iman whose name :ollows that of tke last man who has completed his turn—time at bat— in the preceding inning. these Rules. RULE 20. SECTION 1.——-When their side | goes to the bat the players must immediately _ P= j .- aS Rak Re ee el ai Ens a ee os Ett AEE SR TELE ETE IG Se A LAN OR Se ME ST OR Re ests st sR Nt ce aaa eh OO ea Ces a a “nh . 4 4 ‘ et a | S| ve ee A re | ae < o mo rate Fe eT eR eae PRR ca ty eee e :F , nr rs _— eS oo wae bel Yen. a A , DN oe ees la See bab SENN LON Sr ce dept aes EEE WOE Ne ee ke cr ngs NPE RE FO ee ete ad OB a BE Dati oe, eae Os Skea ess 440 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. -eturn to and seat themselves upon the | ship Game must be commenced not lates players’ bench, and remain there until the | than two hours before sunset. side is put out, except when batsman or base runner, All bats nct in use must be kept in the bat racks, and the two players next suc- ceeding the batsmin, in the order in which they are named in the score, must be ready with bat in hand, to promptly take position as batsman; provided, that the Captain and pne assistant only may occupy the space be- tween the players’ lines and the Captain’s lines to coach base runners. SECTION 2. No player of the side at bat, except when Batsman, shall occupy any por- tion of the space within the Catcher’s Lines, as defined in Rule 6. ‘The triangular space behind the Home Base is reserved for the exclusive use of the Umpire, Catcher and Zatsman, and the Umpire must prohibit any olayer of the side “at bat” from crossing the same at any time while the ball is in the hands of, or passing between, the Pitcher and Catcher, while standing in their positions. SECTION 3. ‘Ihe players of the side “at bat” must occupy the portion of the field allotted them, but must speedily vacate any portion thereof that may be in the way of the ball, or of any Fielder attempting to eatch or field it. Players’ Benches. RULE 21.—The Players’ Benches must be furnished by the Home Club, and placed apon a portion of the ground outside the Players’ Lines. ‘They must be twelve feet in length, and must be immovably fastened to the ground. At the end of each bench must ye immovably fixed a bat rack, with fixtures for holding twenty bats; one such rack must be desienated for the exclusive use of the Visiting Club, and the other for the exclusive use of the Home Club. | Srerron 2. A Game shall consist of nine innings to each contest: g nine, except that, (2) If the side first at pat scores less rung in nine innings than the other side hag scored in eight innings, the game shall then terminate. (0) If the side last at bat in the ninth ine ning scores the winning run before the third man is out, the game shall terminate. A Tie Game. RULE 23.—If the score be a tie at the end of nine innings to each side, play shall only be continued until the side firs’ at bat shall have scored one or more runs than the other side, in an equal number of innings, or until the other side shall score one or more rung than the side first at bat. A Drawn Game. RULE 24.—A Drawn Game shall be de clared by the Umpire when he terminates 4 game on account of darkness or rain, afte five equal innings have been played, if the score at the time is equal on the last even innings played; but if the side that went second to bat is then at the bat, and has scored the same number of runs as the othe side, the Umpire shall declare the game drawn without regard to the score of the last equal innings. A Called Game. RULE 25.—If the Umpire calls “Game” on account of darkness or rain at any time after five innings have been completed by both sides, the score shall be that of the last equal innings played, unless the side second at bat shall have scored one or more runs The Game. RULE 22. SECTION 1.--Every Champion- | than the side first at bat, in which case the score of the game shall be the total number of runs made.A Forfeited Game. RuLE 26.—A forfeited game shall be de- elared by the Umpire in favor of the club not in fault, at the request of such club, in the following cases: SEcTION 1. If the nine of a club fail to appear upon a field, or being upon field, fail to begin the game within five minutes after the Umpire has called ‘‘Play” at the hour appointed for the beginning of the game, unless such delay in appearing or in com- mencing the game be unavoidable. SECTION 2. If, after the game has begun, ene side refuses or fails to continue playing, anless such gaime has been suspended or ter- minated by the Umpire. SECTION 3. If, after play has been sus- pended by the Umpire, one side fails to re- sume playing within ove mznute after the Umpire has called “‘ Play.” SECTION 4. If, in the opinion of the Umpire, any one of these rules is wilfully violated. SECTION 5. If, after ordering the re- moval of a player, as authorized by Rule 57, Section 5, said order is not obeyed within five minutes. SECTION 6. In case the Umpire declares a gaine forfeited, he shall traismit a written notice thereof to the President of the Asso- ciation within twenty-four hours thereafter. No Game. RVLE 27.—‘‘No Game”’ shall be declared by the Umpire if he shall terminate play on | account of rain or darkness, before five in- nings on each side are completed. Substitutes. RULE 28.—SECTION 1. In every cham- sionship game each team shall be required ‘0 have present on the field, in uniform, at teast two or more substitute players. Section 2. ‘Two players, whose names must be printed on the score card as extra HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS: gaia Suk bey ‘Ge eke oS 34s players, may be substituted at any time b: either club, but no other player so retired shall thereafter participate in the game. Ir addition ther=te « substitute may be allowed at any time in place of a player disabled in the game then being played, by reason of ill. ness or injury, of the nature and extent of which the Umpire shall be the sole judge. SECTION 3. The Base Runner shall not have a substitute run for him, except by con sent of the Captains of the contesting teams. Choice of Innings—Condition of Ground, RULE 29.—The choice of innings shail be given to the Captain of the Home Club, whx shall also be the sole judge of the fitness of the ground for beginning a game after rain The Delivery of the Ball—Fair and Unfair Balls. RULE 30. ~A. Fair Ball is a ball delivered by the Pitcher while standing wholly within the lines of his position, and facing the Bats- man, the ball so delivered, to pass over the Home Base, not lower than a Batsman’s knee, nor higher than his shoulder. RULE 31.—An Unfair Ball is a ball de livered by the Pitcher, as in Rule 30, except that the ball does not pass over the Home Base, or does pass over the Home Base, above the Batsman’s shoulder, or below the knee. Balking. RULE 33.—A Balk is: SECTION I. Any motion made by the Pitcher to deliver the ball to the bat without delivering it, and shall be held to include any and every accustomed motion with the hands, arms or feet, or position of the body assumed by the Pitcher in his delivery of the ball and any motion calculated to deceive a base runner, except the ball be accidently dropped. SECTION 2. ‘The holding of the ball by eee CE SE Oe GN Pet Wine Gs Te es id NN a eer Fee nap es Ra Ain f oe Pe re lana Pak ae Pa A aa reneeae a I mens ek . ts siteerpacte ita OTen ts BARS We Dae De dae Pere a ene ae : Poe Akai aad POP LT Se ec acl io ices nr ehrC cake PR fe> PSSA Ne al Ba nae ia ba hecieheiedsaalin ee et Cu f See ea Re Siac haS- ea ee eta ee a De tS Ean Sep 2 La 342 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG a s ‘ Pitcher so long as to delay the game Un-' gecessarily; or The Scoring of Runs, RULE 36.—One Run shail be scored every SECTION 3. Any motion to deliver the | time a Base Runner, after having legally pall, or the delivering the ball to the bat by | touched the first three bases, shall touch the She Pitcher when any part of his person is | Home Base before three men are put out by upon the ground outside of the lines of his (exception). If the third man is forced out, position, including all preliminary motions | or is put out before reaching First Base, @ with the hands, arms, and feet. Dead Balis. RULE 33.—A. Dead Ball is a ball delivered to the bat by -4e Pitcher that touches the Batsman’s bat without being struck at, or any part of +e Batsman’s person or clothin while steading in his position without bein struck at; or any part of the Umpire’s per- son or clothing, while on foul eround, with- out first passing the Catcher. RULE 34.—In case of a Foul Strike, Foul Hit ball not legally caught out, Dead Ball, | or Base Runner put out for being struck by | a fair hit ball, the ball shall not be con- sidered in play until it is held by the Pitcher standing in his position. Block Balls. RULE 35.—SeEction 1. A Block Js a yatted or thrown ball that is stopped or handled by any person not engaged in the game. SECTION 2. Whenever a Block occurs the Umpire shall declare it, and Base Run- ners may run the bases, without being put out, until the ball has been returned to and held by the Pitcher standing in his position. SECTION 3. In the case of a Block, if the person not engaged in the game should re- tain possession of the ball, or throw or kick it beyond the reach of the Fielders, the Um- pire should call “Time,” and require each Base Runner to stop at the last base touched by him until the ball be returned to the Pitcher standing in his position. The game then proceeds in the ordinary way, as if no block had occurred. run shall not be scored. The Batting Rules, RULE 37.—A Fair Hit is a ball batted by the Batsman standing in his position, that first couches the ground, the First Base, che Third Base, any part of the person of a 8 | player, Umpire or any other object that 1s in front of or on either side of the Foul Lines, or batted directly to the ground by the Bats man standing in his position, that (whethes it touches Foul or Fair Ground) bounds 03 rolls within the Foul Lines, between Home and First, or Home and Third Bases, with | out interference by a player. RULE 38.—A Foul Hit is a ball batted by the Batsman standing in his position, that oC D> first touches the ground, any part of the per son of a player, or any other object that is behind either of the Foul Lines, or that strikes the person of such Batsman, while standing in his position, or batted directly to the ground by the Batsman, standing iP his position, that (whether it first touches Foul or Fair Ground) beunds or rolls outside the Foul Lines, between Home and First of Home and Third Bases without interference by a player. Provided, that a Foul Hit not rising above the Batsman’s head and caught by the Catcher playing within ten feet of the Home Base, shall be termed a Foul Tip. Balls Batted Outside the Ground. RULE 39.—When a batted bail passes out side the grounds, the Umpire shall decide it Fair should it disappear within, or Foul should it disappear outside of the range oFee a ke ee HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS. the Foul Lines, and Rules 37 and 38 are to | be construed accordingly. RULE 40. at this point. Strikes. RULE 41.—A strike is: SECTION I. A ball struck at by the Bats- man without its touching his bat; or SECTION 2. A Fair Ball legally delivered by the Pitcher, but not struck at by the Bats- man. A Fair batted ball that goes over the fence at a less distance than two hundred and ten feet from Home Base shall entitle the Batsman to two Bases, and a dis- tinctive line shall be marked on the fence 342 SECTION 4. If he makes a Foul Strike | SkEcrron 5. If he attempts to hinder the Catcher from Fielding the ball, evidently without effort to make a fair hit. | SECTION 6. If, while the first base be oc: cupied by a base runner, three strikes be called on him by the Umpire, except wher two men are already out. SECTION 7. If, while making the third strike, the ball hits his person or clothing. | SECTION 8. If, after twostrikes have been ; called, the Batsman obviously attempts tc | make a foul hit, as in Section 3, Rule 41. | } BASE RUNNING RULES. SECTION 3. Any obvious attempt to When the Batsman Becomes a Base Run make a Foul Hit. RULE 42.—A Foul Strike is a ball batted | ner. RULE 44.—The Batsman becomes a Base by the Batsman when any part of his person Runner : 2 . ° j ACV TA . is upon ground outside the lines of the Bats- | SECTION I. Instantly after he makes ¢ man’s position. The Batsman is Out. RULE 43.—The Batsman is out: SECTION I. If he fails to take his position at the bat in his order of batting unless the error be discovered and the proper Batsman takes his position before a fair hit has been made; and in such case the balls and strikes called must be counted in the time at bat of the proper Batsman. Provided, this rule shall not take effect unless che oud is declared before the ball is delivered to the succeeding Batsman. SECTION 2. If he fails to take his posi- tion within one minute after the Umpire has called for the Batsman. SECTION 3. If he makes a foul hit, other than a Foul Tip as defined in RULE 38, and the ball be momentarily held by a Fielder before touching the ground, provided it’ be not caught in a Fielder’s hat or cap, or touch some object other than a Fielder, be- fore being caught. ‘air Hit. | SECTION 2. Instantly after four balls have | been called by the Umpire. . SECTION 3. Instantly after three strikes have been declared by the Umpire. SEcTION 4. If, while he be a Batsman his person or clothing be hit by a ball from the Pitcher, unless—in the opinion of the Umpire—he intentionally permits himself to be so hit. SECTION 5. Instantly after an illegal de livery of a ball by the Pitcher. | Bases to be Touched. | RULE 45.—The Base Runner must touch each base in regular order, viz. : First, Second, Third and Home Bases; and when obliged to return (except on a foul hit) must retouch the base or bases in reverse order. Entitled to Base. RULE 46.—The Base Runner shall be en: titled, without being put out, to take ins Base in the following cases: ara ROR ean é etn aN eee ae ee PP Ss SeeBa dn ere AT LDA Ratner are Zak xe DN a adel 7 re Cae a aig YATRA TRE, Saye BOCA TT eu ene SN a La ON a poy eee tL or 8 : us e | 4 yi Peake “ re Ny a Fe RSI Pna + ed sa arate es ae eae Sa eee ee ee ees A Bee eer ae FO Sabet Pr Sk Sick Rane Pde 244 ~~ sow TO BE HEALIHNY AND STRONG. Srcrron t. 1f, while he was Batsman, the iJmpire called four Balls. SECTION 2. If the Umpire awards a suc- ceeding Batsman a base on four balls, or for being hit with a pitched ball, or in case of an illegal delivery—as in Rule 44, Section 5— and the Base Runner is thereby forced to yacate the base held by him. SECTION 3. If the Umpire calls a “balk.” Srcrion 4. If a ball delivered by the Pitcher pass the Catcher and touch the Um- pire or any fence or building within ninety feet of the Home Base. SEcrion 5. If upona fair hit the Ball strikes the person or clothing of the Umpire on fair ground. Suction 6. If he be prevented from making a base by the obstruction of an ad: versatry. SECTION 7. If the Fielder stop or catch a batted ball with his hat, or any part of his dress. Returning to Bases. RULE 47.—The Base Runner snall return to his Base, and shall be entitled to so return without being put out: Section 1. If the Umpire declares a Foul Tip (as defined in Rule 38) or any other Foul Hit not legally caught by a Fielder. SECTION 2. If the Umpire declares a Fow Strike. SEecrion 3. If the Umpire declares a Dead Ball, unless it be also the fourth Unfair Ball, and he be thereby forced to take the next base, as provided in Rule 46, Section 2. Secrion 4. Ifthe person or clothing of the Umpire interferes with the Catcher, or he is struck by a ball thrown by the Catcher to intercept a Base Runner. When Base Runners are Out. RULE 48.—-The Base Runner is out: SECTION I. If, after three strikes Lave been declared against him while Batsman, and the Catcher fail to catch the third strik: ball, he plainly attemps to hinder the Catchez from fielding the ball. SrecTION 2. If, having made a Fair Hit while Batsman, such fair hit ball stall be mo- mentarily held by a Fielder, before touching the ground or any object other than a Fielder; Provided, it be not caught in a Fielder’s hat or cap. SECTION 3. If, when the Umpire has de clared three strikes on him, while Batsman, the third strike ball be momentarily held by a Fielder before touching the ground; Pro | vided, it be not caught in a Fielder’s hat or cap, or touch some object other than a Fielder, before being caught. Section 4. If, after Three Strikes, ora Fair Hit, he be touched with the ball in the hand of a Fielder defore such Base Runner touches First Base. SECTION 5. If,after’Tnree Strikesor a Fai Hit, the ball be securely held by a Fielder, while touching First Base with any part 0! his person, defore such Base Runner touches First Base. SECTION 6. If, a1 running the last half of the distance from Home Base to First Base, he runs outside the Three Feet Lines, as de: fined in Rule ro; except that he must do so if necessary to avoid a Fielder attempting to field a batted ball, and in such case shali not. be declared out. SECTION 7. If, in running from First te Second Base, from Second to Third Base, or from ‘Third to Home Base he runs more thar three feet from a direct line between such bases to avoid being touched by the ball in the hands of a Fielder; but in case a Fieldet be occupying the Base Runner’s proper path attempting to field a batted ball, then the Base Runner shall run out of the path, anc behind said Fielder, atid shall not be declag | ed out for so doing.HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS: Srction 8. If he fails to avoid a Fielder attempting to field a batted ball, in the man- ner described in Sections 6 and 7 of this Rule; or if he in any way obstructs a Field- er attempting to field a batted ball, or inten- tionally interferes with a thrown ball: Pro- vided, That if two or more Fielders attempt to field a batted ball, and the Base Runner somes in contact with one or more of them, the Umpire shall determine which Fielder is entitled to the benefit of this Rule, and shall not decide the Base Runner out for coming in contact with any other Fielder. SECTION 9. If, at any time when the ball is in play, he be touched by the ball in the hands of a Fielder, unless some part of his person is touching a base he is entitled to occupy: Provided, 'The ball be held by the Fielder after touching him; but (exception as to First Base), in running to First Base, he may overrun said base without being put out for being off said base, after first touching it, provided he returns at once and retouches the base, after which he may be put out as at any other base. If, in overrunning First Base, he also attempts to run to Second Base, | , in the same manner as in running to First or, after passing the base he turns to his left hate et ek Mee 345 but if the Base Runner inattempting to reac! a base, detaches it before being touched ot forced out, he shall be declared safe. a Base Runner, the First Base, or the First and Second Bases, or the First, Second and Third Bases be occupied, any Base Runner so occupying a base shall cease to be entitled to hold it, until any following Base Runner is put out and may be put out at the next base or by being touched by the ball in the hands of a Fielder in the same manner as in running to First Base, at any time before any following Base Runner is put out. SECTION 12. Ifa Fair Hit ball strikes him | before touching the fielder, and in such case ) no base shall be run unless forced by the Batsman becoming a Base Runner, and no run shall be scored, or any other Base Run- ner put out. SECTION 13. If, when running to a base or forced to return to a base, he fail to touch the intervening base or bases, if any, in the order prescribed in Rule 45, he may be put out at the base he fails to touch, or by being touched by the ball in the hands of a Fieldes Base. from the foul line, he shall forfeit such ex- emption from being put out. SECTION 10. If, when a Fair or Foul Hit ball (other than a foul tip as referred to in Rule 38) is legally caught by a Fielder, such ball is legally held by a Fielder on the Base occupied by the Base Runner when such ball was struck (or the Base Runner be touched with the ball in the hands ofa Fielder), be- fore he retouches said base after such Fair or } ) Foul Hit ball was so caught: Provided, That the Base Runner shall not be out in such case, if, after the ball was legally caught | as above, it be delivered to the bat by the Pitcher before the Fielder holds it on said base, or touches the Base Runner with it: \ SECTION 14. If, when the Umpire calls “Play,” after any suspension of a game, he fails to return to and touch the base he occu pied when “Time” was called before touch- ing the next base. When Batsman or Base Runner is Out. RULE 49.—The Umpire shall declare the Batsman or Base Runner out, without wait- ing for an appeal tor such decision, in al! cases where such player is put out in accord ance with these rules, except as provided w Rule 48, Sections 10 and 14. Coaching Rules. RULE 50.—The Captains and Coachers are restricted in coaching to the Base Runnes SECTION 11. If, when a Batsman becomes ‘alge Pies at pe er ae ee ee ee SRE Dt MORN es Pye em oD La A 4 i. Pee ee oo aS ei RDN ATS amino Bs ey Penne are ae ) i Ae IE Te oD ea Poort ey Ty a) Pe ed aEs a ae ae gos Sad ee eS SR ie Se eee en a A th Sbectaia DIAS d Sa Dak " ape Cus - pens CAC a y 53286 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. mly, and are not allowed to address any re- marks except to the Base Runnet, and then only in words of necessary direction. THE UMPIRE. RULE 51.—The Umpire shall not be changed during the progress of a game, ex- cept for reason of illness or injury. His Powers and J urisdiction. RULE 52.—SECTION I. The Umpire is master of the Field from the commencement to the termination of the game, and is en- titled to the respect of the spectators, and any person offering any insult or indignity to him must be promptly ejected from the grounds. SECTION 2. He must be invariably ad- commencement of the game to its termina: tion, allowing such delays only as are rendered unavoidable by accident, injury or rain. Spcrron 4. The Umpire shall count and call every “unfair ball” delivered by the Pitcher, and every ‘“‘dead ball,” if also an une fair ball, as a ‘“‘ball,” and he shall also count and call every “strike.” Neither a “hall nor a “strike” shall be counted or called uns til the ball has passed the Home Base. He shallalso declare every “‘ Dead Ball,” “‘ Block,” “Poul Hit,” “Foul Strike,” and “Balk.” RULE 54.—For the special benefit of the patrons of the game, and because the offenses specified are under his immediate jurisdiction, and not subject to appeal by players, the at- tention of the Umpire is particularly directea dressed as Mr. Umpire; and he must compel ' to possible violations of the purpose and the playcis to observe the provisions of all | spirit of the Rules, of the following character: the Playing Rules, and he is hereby invested with authority to order any player to do or omit to doany act as he may deem necessary, to give force and effect to any and all of such provisions. Special Duties. RULE 53-—The Umpire’s duties shall be as follows: Srcrion 1. The Umpire is the sole and absolute judge of play. In uo instance shall any person be allowed to question the cor- rectness of any decision made by him except the Captains of the contending nines, and no other player shall at such time leave his posi- Hon in the field, his place at the bat, on the bases or players’ bench, to approach or address the Umpire in word or act upon such dis- puted decision. SECTION 2. Before the commencement of a Game, the Umpire shall see that the rules governing all the materials of the game are strictly observed. Section 3. The Umpire must keep the sontesting nines playing constantly from the SECTION I. Laziness or loafing of players / in taking their places in the field, or those allotted them by the Rules when their side is at the bat, and especially any failure to keep the bats in the racks provided for them; to be ready (two men) to take position as Batsmen, and to remain upon the Players’ Bench, except when otherwise required by the Rules. ? SECTION 2. Any attempt by players of the side at bat, by calling to a Fielder, othe: than the one designated by his Captain, to field a ball, or by any other equally disreput- able means seeking to disconcert a Fielder. SWIMMING AND COLD BATHS. The art of swimming and the habit of tak- ing cold baths did not originate from the progress of civilization. Savages have at least as much taste for these things as the inhabitants of civilized countries. Necessity is in general the immediate motive-power of human activity, and man was urged by the need of crossing deep waters to try andsvactise swimming. The inhabitants of xe water, no doubt, gave man the first clue to swimining. With the ancients cold baths and swimm- ing werc highly appreciated. Homer des- eribes how the heroes of Greece refreshed themselves in rivers and lakes. Herodotus tells us how the inhabitants of the Greek is- lands made daring leaps from the rocks into | the sea, and distinguished themselves by swimming and diving. ‘The effeminate peoples of the Hast had a taste for warm baths; and, when luxury and effeminacy had taken up their abode among the Romans, these displayed an intolerable luxuriousness in their warm baths. ‘The so-called Chinese, Turkish, and Roman baths extended in a more or less modified form into the various sountries of Kurope. Great Swimming Feats. But though these baths were thus >ro- pagated, and, in some measure, usurped the place of cold baths and swimming in our part of the world, these were never entirely forgotten, and in our century they have re- vived with new force. In our time the most astonishing feats in the art of swimming have been performed. Lord Byron swam across the Hellespont; Clias across the Lake of Geneva; Webb, who lost his life in the whirlpool at Niagara, carried out the won- dJerful achievement of swimming across the fnglish Channel. Several others, both men and women, have given the most foolhardy proofs of ability in the art of swimming. Such instances show to what height the art of swimming may be brought by means of natural disposition, practice, and a happy constitution, but it cannot be obtained by the multitude; besides, a general endeavor to attain this point would be injurious to most peopie by its excess. HEALTHFUL ATHLETIC SPORTS, 347 Avoid Getting Chilled. | When taking a cold bath or swimming , exercise, one must never leave the water anc again descend into it several times shivering wth cold, as is too frequently the practice with young people when left to their own discretion at swimming establishments and bath-houses. This not only tends to destroy the wholesome effect of the bath, but even to produce consequences endangering health. The first effect of the cold water is natur- ally a sensation of chill, but this sensation subsides gradually, or almost disappears after a short time—in some people in a few seconds, in others in a few minutes— and is then followed by an agreeable sensa- tion of warmth. ‘This is the result of what we call reaction—an increased activity of | the organs called forth by the irritation of | the water on the skin. ‘The temperature of | the water, and the length of time to stay in | it, should be suited with a view to obtaining this agreeable and wholesome effect. One should also take into consideration the temperature of the air and individual con- ditions, such as different stages of develop- ment and age, difference of sex, and the state of the health. One is more liable to catch a cold when the air has a low temper- ature, especially when lower than the water. One should never stay in the water so long that shivering sets in and the teeth chatter with cold; these are unmistakable sions that the due limit has been exceeded. When to Take a Bath. It should be observed as a general rule never to enter into cold water for bathing or swimming till about three hours after a meal, and not immediately after having taken exhausting exercise, or when panting for breath. Zé zs very objectionatie, and even dangerous, to take a cold bath when feeling cold; in fact, one should never enter the cold a Ct reer CS Usee crs cor) SN Se Se hd ne ere I See es ee eo eo ae ae : . a ; es Ss ee ee PP a ea oan ott tt Si oy a 5 Pi teat ARO NON ian e Aes my PIR eT . ER a PO ia- i! ee watches a a lu ale ie Mw OE Ce ee cng arcane ares Soe AL OC a a aaah Spence eerie waite LS PS SS cea NS a Ne A Ths Peete Ce 348 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. water when the body is below normal temperature. For pemelte the water ought to have at least 55.4° Fahrenheit, and even this is such alow temperature that great precaution is necessary Swimming exercises are invigorating and hardening, and of great value for the preser- vation of heath when used with moderation ; but they call forth such an extensive muscu- lar action, and throw such a great str ain on other organs besides the muscles, that their effects, joined to those of the cold water, may tax to the utmost the forces of many persons, even if not indulged in for more than five to ten minutes. It is beautiful to see the good swimmer’s daring and facile ne into the water; it ‘s ee er es Y i | him afloat. Among the movements that are natural to him, there does not occur the one forming the base of swimming, namely, te bring his legs together at the same time that he separates his arms from each other, nor is he accustomed to assume the position which facilitates floating with the head above the water. It is, therefore, useful, before trying to swim in the water, to practice some pre- paratory movements on land, first with the arms, then with the legs, and finally, with both arms and legs simultaneously. The first essay at swimming in the water may be facilitated by the use of a swunming NATURAL POSITION FOR SWIMMING, quite refreshing to watch his quiet, supple, and accurate motions in the water, as in this way man shows himself the lord of a medium which would otherwise become his grave. But these movements, in order to be useful and beautiful, must be in harmony with the laws of the organism. Swimming exercises, just as any other exercises, 1f misunderstood and misapplied, may prove both injurious and repulsive. Learning the Movements. Man wants a great deal of exercise before being able to swim, as it is not possible for him at once to assume the right position and make the right movements that wil keep belt, or by somebody giving support unde the chin to the swimmer. At first it should be practised in somewhat shallow water. A good preparatory exercise would be to rest the hands on the bottom, raise the head above the water, and perform the leg-swim: ming, that is, draw up and extend the legs with a quick movement. If, to begin with one goes a little bit from the shore till the water reaches just below the arm-pits, and then, turning towards the shore, quietly per- fit the combined arm and Jeg-movements as before learned, keeping the body in the right inclination, and bending the head backwards, then a few attempts will be sufAcient to keep the body afloat. As soon as he can do this, and propel himself forwards, then he has learned the art, and only wants to attain greater skill by practice. Mistakes which retard the attainment of of the art of swimming are: Too rapid movements; the endeavor to float on the surface of the water, instead of keeping the body at an inclination; spreading the fingers, instead of keeping them close to- pether; moving the arms too deep in the water, or quite on the surface, instead of about four inches below. After having acquired some practice and skill in swimming forwards, it 1s easy to learn swimming in upright position by means of making small swimming mutions with the feet, and keeping the arms horizontally out from the sides, slightly pressing the water with the palms of the hands. How to Swim on the Back. To swim on the back, the head ‘s sent backwards, its hinder part ‘mmersed in the water; the chest is arched forwards; the legs per- form the swimming motions witn snarp stretchings dcwnwards. In the beginning gne can facilitate the swimming on the back sy movements of the arms, or by resting ¢hem against the bottom. After having acquired some skill in this plained by a neighboring practitioner. ‘Thess wilt he useful in emergencies 4 eu ee ee Ra ee em Tt Na PR eee ee a ee ee——————— lll a fe , EEE OS ee On ied OTOL LO oo, eager Stetina maga “8: Meas ES a ae Fat, ett chiens ee telear at al ) 336 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. A sick-rvom should be made as cheerful and pleasant as possible. It is bad enough to be an invalid, without being shut up in a dungeon. Flowers in the Sick-Room. Flowers ate very peattiful and very wel- come during seasons of health. A. stroll through a well-kept garden, especially in the early morning before the dew has passed away, and when the richness of coloring, and the singular sensation of exuberant life, then particularly observable, are at their height; an hour spent in the depths of dingles and green glades, where the su’l, shimmering through the broken boughs overhead, lights up for \ moment wild blossoms nestling together amidst the mossy roots of the older trees, are delights that we | all can appreciate thoroughly; but when the hour of sickness, of pain, of weariness comes, and we lie on our beds, feeling as though we should never know again what ease and health are, then it is that the quiet worth of our sweet friends the flowers is most truly recognized; then itis that the languid heart leaps up, the dull eye brightens, the pale lips call back their color and their smile together to greet the gentle visitants, as the door opens to adinit our old out-of-door comrades, who, undeterred by the uncongenial gloom and closeness, come to sympathize with us, to tell us that we are not forgotten in our former haunts, and that our steps will be may be kept, yet there is, and always musi be, a depressing feeling within it; something totally unlike itself is wanting to relieve its oppression, to give rise to new thoughts quite unconnected with it or its occupation. And to supply, as far as they can, this very need, flowers, tastefully arranged, and well placed, offer their kindly services. It is such a relief, such a positive luxury, gladly hailed thete when strength is ours again. Illness, looked at even in the most cheer- ful light, both by patients and nurses, is a wearisome experience. ‘The same room, the same routine, the same diet, and the same medicines, taken at the same hours, are not by any means enlivening circumstances ; ¢fean, well-aired, cheery, as unlike a sick- saqm as possible as the chamber of suffering | to turn the eye away from the grim, bad- taste suggesting row of medicine bottles: from the sundry biscuit papers that stand on the table, ready to dispense their well- meant but painfully unpalatable contents; from the oft-conned pattern on the walls, one rose, two green leaves, a sort of proposal for a brown leaf, ending in a badly-formed piece of trellis, a white rose and a green leaf at top; from the window-curtains hung up in their perpetual folds; from the fire which, though partaking of a family resem- blance with the dear oid one downstairs, evidently belongs to an ill-conditioned and ‘|-favored branch of the original stock; to turn the weary eyes and weary attention from all these things, and rest them gently and peacefully on some spiritual-looking blossom, so unallied to ali earthly trouble, so suggestive of coolness, and freshness, and unworldliness, that the tired brain and throbbing pulses become half-unconsciously soothed, and the heavy eyelids droop and droop lower, until, as pitying sleep closes them fast, se transforms our last idea of our beautiful guest into that of the image + of a guardian angel watching beside us and | warding off all suffering from our pillow. And well may trustful, hopeful thoughts | be suggested by our mute friends, either in their own simple forms, or in the glorified guise bestowed on them by out dreaming » fancy—for what is their mission? To bring = comfort and good cheer to the wearyCHAPTER XXVII. twigs 8 Pip le How to Give Aid in Emergencies. fea TLE occurrence of an accident in any 7 ~well-populated region is sure to draw a crowd about the victim. ‘The first thing to be done is to disperse such a gather- img, or at leasc to persuade spectators to keep away from the injured person. A space of not less than ten feet on every side should be completely cleared, only those being allowed t@ approach nearer wno are in immediate charge of the operations for relief. Fainting. When any one faints he should be placed in a recumbent position, with his head low, if he is pale and bloodless, but high, if red in the face, aud every tight-fitting garment snould be loosened. Then he should be fanned in the open air or by an open win- dow, cold water shoulda be sprinkled over him, and his temples bathed with vinegar, ether or cologne, while ammonia, burnt feathers or singed hair are held beneath his nose, and his nostrils are tickled to make him sneeze. If the faint be a deep one, an #nema of vinegar may be administered, the feet and hands bathed in warm water, the soles of the feet chafed, and mustard applied over the heart. A Trance. A trance is the most extreme form of faint- ing, and the appearance of a person in a trance resembles very closely that of one dead. Only a layman, however, can make a iwistake in this respect, certainly not a phy- sician trained in scientific accuracy and in gareful methods of examination; for such an *xainination soon makes it apparent that can be heard in a lethargic person, althougt sometimes very faint and infrequent. Jf utes, the condition must be that of death. To avoid burial during life the mosi serviceable measures are the prohibition of premature interments, the allowing of inter- iment only after the beginning of decomposi- tion or after an autopsy, and the careful determination of death by medically com- petent persons, : The treatment of an individual apparently dead should be begun by freeing him from every injurious influence, such as ribbons about the neck, noxious gases, and, in the case of those nearly drowned, from water in the air-passages. This accomplished, he should be placed in a room filled with fresh air, his clothing removed cautiously but as quickly as possible, by cutting it off, if necessary, his mouth and nose cleared of any obstruction, and an effort made te restore his nervous energy, his circulation. and above all his respiration. This may be accomplished by making warm applications to the body and by warm baths, by washing the skin witk vinegar, by rubbing, brushing and knead- ing it vigorously, by tickling the nose and throat, by rousing the nerve of smell with irritants such as spirits of ammonia, by drop- ping naphtha and spirits of mustard upon the preecordia, or by applying a mustard pouitice in the same region. Especial benefit may be derived from artificial respiration and from blowing air yuto the lungs. If, in effecting the latter, 0th heart-sounds, or at least oue of them, tne operator would avoid applying hw 357 Ce a a ee ed Lae ES heard less frequently than once in five min | : $32 Te ee eR ee Ae Sete . aos a ; 5 oo oe ee ee oe ers ee eepooper aN 15 i SU—_”” &« Pee eat at Sea ae ae SO ee ee aia aad tin ar i Re OTT SN OO es chika neal ee eed (siete LS ea ae a se ae eT heat eee A 368 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. mouth to that of the patient, let him apply a funnel, bladder, of other tube. During the inspiration the nose of the patient must be kept closed. After the lungs have been filled with air, the chest and abdomen are to be pressed upon and the air expelled, or the patient may be rolled upon his back and chest alternately. It is often sufficient to compress the abdomen between the palms of the hands, in order to press upward the diaphragm and the lungs and so to expel the air forcibly. ‘Then, when the hands are withdrawn, the diaphragm returns to its former position, and the air is drawn into the lungs again. In persons in this condi- ton artificial respirationshould be maintained for at least four or five hours, the face, chest, and back being sprinkled meanwhile at intet- vals with cold water. Persons Nearly Drowned. The most effective method for restoring persons nearly drowned is artificial respira- tion according to the method of Dr. Sylvester. By this method the patient is to be laid upon his back upon a gentle incline, in such a way that his head shall lie a little higher than his feet, and a small, firm cushion is to be placed beneath his head and shoulders, or, in its absence, a folded garment. Next, his tongue should be drawn forward and se- eured beyond his lips. For this purpuse the snost serviceable appliance is an elastic band fastened over the tongue and under the chin. The operator, standing behind the patient’s head, should then grasp the arms of the latter just above the elbows and draw them, witha gentle, steady motion, to a position of exten- sion above the head. Here they are to be held for about two seconds, while air is al- lowed to enter the lungs freely. The arms are then to be carried downward and pressed gently but firmly for about the same length of time against the sides of the patient's chest, in order to expel the air from his lungs. These motions should be repeated in alterna tion ten times in the course of every minute until a continuous respiratory movement bes comes perceptible. When this happens arti- ficial respiration may be discontinued and an effort made to restore the warmth and circtt lation of the body. Persons Overcome by Gases. Persons suffocated by carbonic acid, car- bonic oxide, illuminating gas, or Sewer gas must be removed as quickly as possible to a room where the air is pure and where the windows and doors are kept open to secute a constant renewal of the atmosphere. Al clothing must be removed as rapidly as pos- sible, and the patient, completely denuded, placed in a half-recumbent position, and the measures already detailed in cases of drown- ing employed to restore him to life. If the respiratory movements have already ceased, long-continued artificial respiration can alone be expected to give success. Struck by Lightning, A person struck by lightning should quickly be removed from the scene of the accident, at once undressed and placed in a half-reclining position, and wrapped im warm blankets. After this is done the measures of revival above described are to be employed, and especially that of artificial respiration. Some stimulant should be administered, 4 sionally, or twenty drops of the aromatic spirits of ammonia in a tablespoonful of water, Burns caused by lightning should receive the same attention as those from any > other cause. Recoveries are on record after an hour of supposed death from lightning, | Lightning strikes where there are metals, } or where water, dampness or evaporation | teaspoonful of whiskey, for instance, occaHOW TO GIVE AID IN EMERGENCIES. gecurs. Therefore it is best not to be found ear any piece of metal during a storm, and not to take refuge in the water nor under a tree. Localities where there are many men should also be avoided. Sunstroke., Sunstroke, contrary to the usual impres- sion, is not in all cases due to exposure of the head to the direct rays of thesun. Statistics show that prostration from the effects of heat may occur under shelter, in the shade, at night, or even in persons who have not been exposed to the sun for days before. In- tense heat need not be solar, but may be arti- ficial, Since the human body can cool itself much more readily in a dry than in a moist atmosphere, it may be expected to resist the severities of a dry, overheated climate more easily than the oppressive closeness of a damp and muggy one. For this reason sunstroke is much more infrequent in the dry belt of | the Texan prairies than in the lowlands of | India or upon the sea-coast. For the same reason too, it is especially prone to attack in- door workers in confined, moist factories, and notably those who labor in laundries and sugar-refineries. Sunstroke appears to be decidedly favored by intemperance, by want of acclimatization, and by debility following fatigue in a heated atmosphere. Occupants of badly ventilated sleeping apartments appear to be oftener affected than those who sleep in purer air. It is generally thought by non-professional persons that the symptoms of sunstroke come on without any warning whatever. In most cases, however, it is preceded by pain in the head, wandering of the thoughts or total in- ability to think at all, disturbed vision, itri- tability of temper, sense of pain or of weight 359 marked until insensibility is reached, pre ceded sometimes by delirium. ‘The skix grows very hot, and usually very dry, but when not dry is covered with a profuse per- spiration. ‘The face becomes dusky, or, as the saying is, blue. Breathing becomes rapid and short, or slow and sighing. The action! of the heart, as felt by the hand placed over it, is weak and rapid and often as tremulous as the “fluttering of a bird.” In many instances, from what is popularly termed the commencement of the attack until it ends in death, the patient does not movea limb, nor even an eyelid. The gradual failure of respiration interferes with the natural puri- fication of the blood in the lungs, a fact speedily attested by the livid, purplish ap- pearance of the surface. In most. cases of sunstroke, accordingly, death comes on gradually by arrest of respiration, such arrest being without doubt due to direct paralysis of the respiratory centres by the excess of heat. A person suffering from sunstroke should at once be carried to a cool, airy spot in the shade of some wall, or perhaps to a large room with a bare floor, or, as is sometimes better, if no sunlight interferes, upon the pavement of a back yard. Unnecessary by- standers must be kept at a distance, for, in this as in every other accident, the patient needs all the pure air to be had. His clothing should be at once gently removed, and he should be placed upon his back with his head raised a couple of inches by a folded garment. His entire body, and particularly his head and chest, should then be profusely dashed with cold water. In preparation for this step, a messenger should be despatched for a at the pit of the stomach, or inability to cee aaa breathe with the usual ease and satisfaction. | These symptoms become more and more good supply of ice, aud several buckets of ims-water should be made ready for use as rapidly as possible. ‘The ice-water must neé ee Ce ee ee me) Ned at, SS et a Y ee EN eeaa ee aaa (Sided eas re OID EINE oo Lae q POLO OS EEE irda sencleg arr tceiatie atta Aor PMs De A a taeeiatein recat . Sa nies soe ee a : : : | : # } % 360 EOW TO BE HEALTHY AND 5S CRONG. pe sprinkled over the patient, but dashed against him in large bowlfuls. While one person prepares the ice-water, and another uses it, a third and even a fourth may employ themselves in rubbing the surface of the patient briskly, each with a handful of cracked ice enclosed in a towel. The purpose of these measures is to re- duce the temperature of the body to soine- thing like a natural standard. When the decline in heat is noticed, the cold applica- tions should cease, and the patient should be carefully removed to a dry spot, where the entire surface of his body should be dried with towels. If any tendency towara a ze turn of the high temperature should mani- fest itself, as is sometimes the case, even after the restoration of consciousness, it must be met at once by a renewal of cold applica- Hons. A second rise in temperature need not excite surprise when we reflect upon the amount of superheated blood within the body not yet exposed to the influence of the cold applications. Artificial respiration must be resorted to | as soon as the heated condition of the body fg overcome, and continued until natural respiration returns. The dashing of cold water over the chest and face is a useful means of encouraging a return of the sus- pended function of breathing, but the down or to lie down should be resisted, fe. this is the first indication of freezing. Firs} a sleepy feeling creeps over one. and thei loss of consciousness supervenes. In order to restore a person from this 71n: conscious condition warmth may not be rapidly applied to the whole body, but 1 should be thawed out by slow degrees, Furthermore, the limbs must be very care: fully handled, to avoid fracturing any one oF them, for cold renders them very brittle. The patient should be brought into an um heated room, undressed, and covered up te the nostrils and mouth with snow or pow dered ice, with which he should be com stantly and gently rubbed. The snow should be removed as fast as it melts, until the skin begins to grow warm and the limbs relax. When its vitality has returned to the skig the snow should be removed and the whole body rubbed with cold cloths. Only now mechanical methods are best relied on in the main for this purpose. Persons who are Frozen. Persons unconscious from exposure to cold require a special manner of treatment. The effect of excessive cold upon the body as a whole, and especially so in intoxicated persons who have lain down in the open air to sleep, is at first to produce unconscious- ness, which, if warmth is not applied, will sooner or later pass into actual death. When excessive cold prevails the inclination to sit may the temperature of the room be grad. ually raised and the patient placed ina tepid bath, and afterward in a warm one. From this point the treatment usual in the case of lethargic persons is to be instituted. The rescued individual must be restricted to 4 light diet for a day or two after emerging from the lethargy. Foreign Bodies in the ‘hroat. [t not infrequently happens that a piect of food or some other body finds its way inte the back of the mouth and lodges there, » being unable to pass farther. In such case the finger, should this be thought best, will often be able to thrust the morsel downward, A hairpin, straightened and then bent at the extremity, may prove serviceable in drag: ging the impediment out. Fish-bones may be most readily removed from the throat by swallowing stale bread. The danger of suffocation by foreign bodies may be avoided by breathing regularly, by eatingand drinking slowly, by refraining from conversation during meals, and by cutting the food into small pieces. To Stop Bleeding. Hemorrhage is an accident of very fre- quent occurrence. In cases of severe bleed- ing, when the injury of an artery is indicated by the spurting of the blood in a steady stream from the wound, direct compression should be exerted upon the bleeding artery, either by a finger inserted in the wound, or by means of whatever object happens to be at hand, such as moss, lint, tissue paper, or mcdicated cotton, until skilled assistance artives. A more ready means of compres- sion is sometimes found in tying the limb above the wound with a strong cord, an elastic band, or even a pair of suspenders. Above all, a bleeding limb should be so held as to impede to the utmost its circula- tion, the foot, leg, or arm, for instance, being held upwards. Slighter hemorrhages may be controlled by means of ice, cold water, burnt coffee, vinegar, or the methods of compression spoken of above. The appli- eation of a compress, however, is superflu- ous, for the coagulation of the blood in cotton, marine‘ lint, oakum, and coffee is sufficient for the stoppage of hemorrhage. But the removal of these materials should not be hastened, for this may lead the bleeding to break out afresh. —Tesebleed. In case of Nosebleed it is sufficient in most instances to fill the nostrils with cotton or soft paper, and to leave it there for some time, Wads of cotton dipped in tincture of iron are only to be applied in slight and ex- ternal hemorrhages. Indeed, one should be very careful in the use of this remedy, or should forego it altogether, for death has been known to follow immediately upon its use in HOW TO GIVE AID IN EMERGENCIES. wel a eS eh oe, ee Se Re Ce De BE ee Od 30% cases of bleeding from a tooth or from the nose, by the extension of -blood-clots to the brain. i Bleeding from the Lungs, Any person who has once suffered from @ hemorrhage from the lungs or stomach should form the habit of carrying with him physician may prescribe, or an abundan quantity of common salt, either one of these to be taken in emergency dissolved in water. If no water be at hand, the remedy will be of equal service taken dry. Furthermore, such a person should habitually keep as quiet as possible, should avoid hot food and hot drinks, as well as stimulants and excitations of any kind, should prefer not eating toa much at one time, but rather more often, and should live in a well ventilated room, avoiding too warm or oppressive a tempera ture. ‘The same rules hold good in respect to persons troubled with diseases of the heart. All Sorts of Injuries. In every case of injury, in cuts, stabs, and gunshot wounds, in contusions, sprains, dis locations, and fractures, in burns, frostbites, and frozen members, the first measure to be adopted isthe application of cold in the form of ice, snow, or cold water. These substances are best applied in an animal bladder or g rubber bag. When towels wet in coic watex are used, they require to be renewed every minute, for, unless frequently changed, they really act as poultices to the part, invit: ing what we wish to prevent. Cold not only stanches any bleeding which may occut, wit less the hemorrhage is altogether too severe. but it also moderates the ensuing inflamm: tion. ‘The injured part must enjoy perfec: rest and must be kept scrupulously clean. Fractures. When an injury occurs to the lower limb, a dose of gallic acid or of ergotin, such as hi} Ae © riagegee nh Roce Crea ee Us ad 7 Rn es oe ee yy cS Ce i Soe - a oe pet ae ee ro pe ee a % . OE einai a de ceesee a ee ae e 5 openixg through it. 363 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. and it is thought thet a bone has been | broken, the injured person shouid lie where he has fallen, unless the temperature inter- dicts, until suitable assistance arrives. He should then be removed from the spot in a carriage, or preferably in an ambulance. A wagon well filled with hay will serve the purpose equally well, especially if the hay be so disposed as to form a hollow for the re- pose of the injured limb. Before removal long splints should be carefully bandaged to both sides of the limb without avoidable dis- turbance of the clothing. ‘This is necessary in order to prevent, as far as possible, the grating of one fragment of bone upon an- other and the consequent destruction of the soft tissues, which is occasioned by the jarring of even the easiest riding vehicle, and which will inevitably make the injury far mote serious. Abscesses- Abscess denotes the gathering of pus. If this occur beneath the skin, and fluctuation can be felt superficially, an incision should be made by the physician rather than allow’ the abscess to open of itself; for, in the former case, the cut edges will anite rapidly, while in the latter the heal- ing process will be long delayed, and a dis- figuring scar will remain, as we so often see where a tooth has ulcerated through the cheek, Furthermore it sometimes happens, especially if the skin is thick, that an ab- scess burrows beneath the skin instead of Burns. To burns unsalted butter, fresh oil, yolk of egg, or cold cream should be applied at once. An especially good effect is gotten from linseed oil and lime water in equal parts, or from bicarbonate of soda with the requisite amount of water to make a paste. only a very light bandage, not a thick otic which will generate warmth. If the burn is superficial, pencilling with co,todion will be found of service before the formation of busters, by preventing them from forming. Blisters caused by burns, when they do not evacuate spontaneously, should be opened with a clean needle upon the second day, and the tract should then be overspread with one of the applications ak ready enumerated. ‘The skin should not he hastily removed from the blister, for its pres- ence protects the wound. If adjacent parts, such as the fingers or the arm and chest, be come involved in an extensive burn, mea sures must be taken to keep them apart during the process of healing, in order that they may not grow together. Pieces of linen soaked in emollient applications should there fore be placed between the opposing woundes’ surfaces. When any one’s clothing catches fire, he should immediately be thrown down upon the ground, so as to lessen the tenaency of the flames toward his mouth and nostrils. Then, without a moment’s delay, he must be rolled in the carpet or hearthrug, ip order to stifle the flames, his head alone being exposed that he may be able to breathe. If no carpet or rug is at hand, take off your coat and use it instead. Keep the flame as much as possible from the face, so as to prevent the entrance of the hot ait into the lungs. ‘This can be done by begin- ning at the neck and shoulders and smoth- ering the flame downward. Should any fragment of garment be found adherent tv the burned surface, it should not be separa- ted, as the violence required to remove it necessarily increases the damage to the injured part. Burns by lime, caustic potash, and other Over such applications should be placed alkalies are as a rule very troublesome, sinceHOW TO GIVE AID IN EMERGENCIES. not only removal of the cuticle or superficial gkin occuts, but also destruction of the soft parts beneath. Lime is a powerful alkali and rapidly destroys the parts with which it comes in contact. It is useless to attempt to pick it off, for the fingers remove no more than they come in contact with; so an appli- gation should at once be made of some sub- stance which will unite with the alkali to form a comparatively harmless preparation. 4o accomplish this we may apply lemon juice, vinegar diluted with water, or any other dilute acid. ‘These acids do not undo what has been done: they only prevent farther mischief. What we say in regard to lime may also be said of potash. soda, ammonia, and the other alkalies. How to Treat those who are Poisoned. The treatment in cases of poisoning requires the stomach to be emptied as quickly as possible of the poisonous sub- stance by means of vomiting, purging, or thestomach-pump. ‘Tickling the membrane of the throat with the finger or with the tip of a feather is in many instances sufficient to Snduce vomiting. Usually after the giving of an emetic this means is used to hasten its 363 dotes, by combination with some other sub- stance, so that a less harmful product iz obtained, or by concealing and diluting it. In the treatment of poisoned wounds we may apply lime-water, chlorine water, solu- tion of potassium permanganate, or actual caustic, which not only neutralize the poison; but obliterate the wound as well. Hydrophobia. Hydrophobia may occur, contrary to the popular opinion, at any season of the year. The avoidance of water is a very marked symptom in man, but no mad dog avoids action. Common salt serves a useful emetic action when dissolved in the smallest quan- tity of water which will absorb it, and given every minute until vomiting occurs. Another valuable emetic, particularly for children, is pulverized ipecacuanha, which can be had of any druggist. Warm water is very commonly used to produce vomiting, and so too is mustard mixed in warin water. After vomiting is begun there is usually lit- tle trouble in keeping it up by simply giving a plenty of tepid water. | When the stomach cannot be emptic completely or rapidly enough, the poison in- gested should be rendered as harmless as pos- gible by chemical decomposition with anti- water. Mad dogs cannot properly be said to foam at the mouth, but those whose cheek muscles are so relaxed that their jaws hang open necessarily drop some saliva or mucus. Quite as untrue 1s the idea that mad dogs always run straight ahead and always carry their tails between their hind legs. Such a manner of conducting himself gives to a dog the appearance not so much of being vicious, as of being simply sick. Mad dogs are apt to be very quiet, slug- gish, and sullen, and to slink away by them- selves; others, however, become restless and irritable, and bite and runaway. Most such dogs lose their appetite, but they swallow very abnormal substances, such as earth, straw, and shreds of cloth. Mad dogs all bark in a peculiar manner, and this isa characteristic feature of the disease. ‘Their proclivity for biting exhibits itself rather against animals than against men, and sometimes they con- fine themselves to snapping at inanimate objects; yet they do not always spare their masters. ‘They bite in a uoiseless, insidious manner, without previous barking or snarl- ing. Death follows eight or nine days later. The recognition of hydrophobia, it will ac- cordingly be seen, is not without difficulty, and for this reason it is to be urgently recom. mended to every owner of a dog, that, so soor TA he alin Daley seelicasuan eine <2 = eS A Se ST RES ee Se Se es ea Soe ee ee—_ Soe ee tae eee ae LE NS TE ee nee Se AE ee Sk ese : i : e 4 ‘ 364 HOW TO BE HEALTHY AND STRONG. as he perceives in the animal any departure from his usual condition and behavior, 1m- mediately the object of suspicion should be secluded from mankind. A dog who has bitten a human being is very apt to be slain at once by the bystanders. ‘his should not be permitted, but the sus- pected animal should be placed in confine- ment and watched under proper safeguards for the appearance of the disease. Should no indubitable symptoms indicate the disease in the dog, it can be readily seen what unnec- essary mental distress will have been saved oth to the person bitten and to his friends. A number of well authenticated instances are on record where the bite of the common skunk or polecat has been followed, afte~ the usual period of incubation, by symptoms of rabies. Out of the forty-one cases recorded, all except one, a farmer, whe knew of the danger and took the precaution of using prompt preventive treatment, ended in death. Persons so injured should promptly resort to the peculiar measures advisel for the treatment of poisoned wounds. Snake Poison. Snake poison, which, very soon after the bite of the serpent, causes violent incisiveand radiating pains, as well asa dark bluish swell- ing of the wounded region, and later dizzi- ness, difficult breathing, and stupefaction, is a coicrless, odorless, viscid fluid, very similar to olive oil. The poison of some tropical snakes occasions no local symptoms, because death follows only a few minutes after the bite. Neither chemical nor microscopical research has hitherto furnished a satisfactory manner of operation too, is still quite obscure, Their effect is produced only by direct con: tact with the blood, which they appear to have the property of decomposing with great rapidity. ‘The venom of a snake has no poi sonous action when introduced into the stomach. The poisonous snakes are sluggish crea- tures, which seldom attack men unless provoked. The effect of their sting is propor- tioned to the amount of venom accumulated. Whoever is bitten by one of them should at once suck out the wound and apply one of he above named cauterants. Prompt ampu- tation of the injured part may be successful in saving life. In any casea ligature should be applied, if possible, above the wound, to te relaxed, if much swelling occurs, and again tightened when feasible. ‘The instan: taneous use of potassa, soda, or, still better, of a dark red solution of permanganate of potash, or of the same chmical in dry condi- tion used both externally and internally, very often proves beneficial. The slower action of the heart, which is indicated by a feeble pulse and by other ap: pearances of prostration, calls for the free use of stimulants. Marvelous stories are told of the quantities of whiskey and brandy taken under these circumstances by persons not addicted to their use. It is often wise to give them freely at brief intervals until symptoms of intoxication apnear. The great enfeeblement of the heart readily suggests laying the injured person upon his back, since this is the position in which the powers of the heart are least taxed. The explanation concerning these poisons. ‘Their house should always be supplied with ret» edies,< “nn Business Rules and ‘Orms. Meaning of Terms Used in Business. é:Condonmenc, —Relinquishing to underwriters property saved from shipwrecks. &hatement.—Discount; sum allowed on payment of money betore due. Acceptance.—A receiving so as to bind the agreement to pay a bill or draft. Accommodation Paper.—The loan of commercial paper or credit. Accrued.—Interest or increase due and unpaid. Sctount.—A statement, an arrangement of debits and credits in relation to auy person or thing; a record of business transactions. Secount Sales.—A statement of the product arising from the sale of goods received by a merchant from another party, and sold for his benefit, together with the costs and charges incurred ‘n making such sale. Accountant.—One who is skilled in accounts. Actuary.—A clerk of certain courts and insuranceoffices 5 one skilled in annuities; an acting officer. Administrator.—One who manages an intestate estate. Adjustment.—Settlement of a difference between two parties. Admiralty—A body which controls naval affairs in England. Ad valorem.—According to value. Advance.—Additional price, stocks above pat. 4avances.—Sums of money paid by a merchant upon goods lodged in his hands for sale at a future time. This term also covers money loaned by bankers on bills of lading. '4dventure.~—Property ventured in a voyage; a specula- tion. Advice.—Counsel given, usually in regard to the pur- Afidavit,—A deciaration under oath made in writiny; Agent.,—A person who acts for another; a deputy, Adulteration,—Mixing aspurious with a genuine articls Allowance.—Avatement, a deduction made for varior reasons. foreign government. Abppraise.—To estimate the value of goods or property: Anticipate.—To take beforehand, or pay before due. Appurtenance.—That which appertains or belongs something else. Arbitration.—The referring of a controversy te persons chosen by the parties to decide It. Arrear.—That which is behind in payment. Assay.—To determine the amount of a particular mists: in an ore or metallic compound. Assess. —To tax, or value for the purpose of taxing. Assets.—Resources, property in possession or mont, due. Antedate.—~To date beforehand. Assignee.—One to whom something is assigned, on who receives property to dispose of for the benefit of creditors. Assienor.—One who mukes a transfer to another. Assignment.—The transfer of property to assignees. Association.—A company of persons united for a pat ticular purpose. Assume.—-To take on one’s self or become liable #7 the debts of another. ; Attachment.—A writ or warrant for the purpose. Attest.—To call to witness or give official testimony rs quired in solemn instruments. Attorney (Power of).—A document by which a perus. authorizes another to act 1m his stead. chase and sale of goods. Auctioneer. —One who selis goods at sn auction. 865. 2 POOL, Cen rem tid eee See Se Oe a Ne SER en Ambassador.—An envoy of the highest rank sent te « 5 a m ee ee ee iene -‘ ; AT My a ioe cabins AN astern Be OE a —— Silas =a os to nets es toe Nat ed | a a a not OLE IO pO Sn ei tal Dhol Se eee bei ee oe eile easel GST, ROARS maf ea fe nig I tenn Re t q 5 EY ' i § y Ef 366 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. fuditor.—A person authorized to examine and adjust accounts. Avails.—Proceeds of property sold. Average.—A proportional share of general loss, usually applied to a loss of goods at sea ; also a mean time of payment for several debts due at different marketable securities, to be repaid when called fry, Capital —-Money or property invested in business, Carat—Weight showing the degree of fineness of gold Cargo.—A ship’s lading or freight, Carte blanche —Signature of an individual or individ. felt Loan.—Money loaned by a banker or other person, | Compoxnd.—To settle om terms different secured by the deposit of stocks, bends, os other ; times. 4ward.—The decision of arbitrators in a disputed transaction. Bail,—Surety for another; giving security for appear- ance on trial. Bailee.—One to whom goods are delivered in trust. Bankrupt—A person who, by reason of inability to meet his obligations, surrenders his property to his creditors and seeks the relief allowed him by law. At present there is no general law upon this subject, the laws of the several States regulating it. Bear.—A stock exchange phrase used to designate a man who, having sold more stock then he pos- sesses, endeavors to depress its value that he may buy at a low rate, and so make good his de- ficiency. Sill of Exchange.—An order drawn by a creditor upon his debtor demanding of him payment of a speci- fied sum of money at @ designated time. These bills are used for the settlement of accounts be- tween parties separated by iong distances. The acceptance of such a bill renders it a binding obli- gation upon the person upon whom it is drawn. Bill of Lading.—A printed receipt given by the master of a vessel, or the agent of a transportation coim- pany, for freight shipped by such vessel or com- pany. Bills of lading are usually given in dupli- cate. Such bill is evidence of the receipt of the freight by the carrier, and in case of the loss of the freight entitles the shipper to recover his in- surance. Upon the presentation of a bill of lad- ing at the point of destination, the carrier must deliver the freight to the person presenting the bill. Bills Discounted.—Promiissory notes, acceptances, or bills of exchange discounted for the accommoda- tion of an indorser by bankers. Bills Payable—Promissory notes or drafts held by a merchant against others for future paynient. Bills Receivable-—Promissory notes or drafts due te 4 merchant by otliers. Bile of Rights —A bill permitting an importer to ex- amine his goods at the custom-house. Bx/7—A stock exchange phrase designating a person who secks to raise the value of stock he is operat- uals on blank paper with space above to write note; full power. Cashier.—A cash-keeper; the financial officer. Chancellor—A judge of a court of chancery or equity, Charter —A formal writing conferring title, right or privileges. Charter-party —A contract by which the whole or part of a vessel is Ict to a merchant or other person for the conveyance of goods en a particula: voyage. Check—An order upon a bank, or banker, to pay on demand to the person named in the check, or to his order, the sum of money specified in the body of the check in writing. Choses in action~Things of which the owner has not the possession, but merely the right of action for the possession, as notes, accounts, etc. Choses in possession. —Things of which one has Pow. session. Clearance.—Certificate from the custom authoritien, permitting a vessel to leave port. Clearing —Act of leaving port. Clearing-house.—Place where banks exchange checks 63 drafts and settle their differences. Closed Policy.—A policy in which the amount insured is definitely stated. Coasting.—A sailing near land, or trade carried on be tween ports in the same country. C. O. D.—Collect on Delivery. Goods sent by express marked in this way niust be accompanied by the bill forthem. This bill is collected and receipted by the messenger of the express company before delivering the goods. Codicil.—A supplement to a will. Dieter ie -t : * eee ; at “ed a a ee -- ee oe ow Te ee eee ia. ee a eeeatin WATT tn ee ciate an ‘Sade et aaa Tn oS LILI LOO ete oe Te eta an eee on ie, te OF a a eine ie a paces! Me Ye Pe ees bate) s7e BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. i Tare } allowa 7 E19 t FY > ase. f fae: Kevocation.—The recall of power or authority conferred, | Tare.-—An allowance for wel ght of box, case, bag, came as the revocation of an agency. Salvage.—A reward or recompense allowed by law for the saving of a ship or goods from loss at sea, either by shipwreck or other means. Scrip.—Dividends issued by a stock company payable in stock. Scrip dividends are simply an increas of the capital of the compaty, as the stock issued to meet them is added to the capital, and in its turn is entitled to future dividends. Seaworthy.—Fit for a voyage; 1m a proper condition to om venture at sea. Secondarily.—Applied to the endorser of a note or the drawer of a bill, signifying that he is only condi- etc. ) containing merchandise. | | Tariff.—A list of prices ; duties on imports and exports. Tax.—A rate or sum of money imposed on persons gz | property for public use. Tenants in common.—Persons holding lands and tene joint title. e | ments by several and distinct titles, and not by « | | - Tonant.—One who holds property under another. Tonement.—That which is held. Tender.—tTo offer for acceptance. Legal tender ¢ such money as the law prescribes shall pase current. | | | Tenure.—The mode in which one holds an estate jx tionally liable, or liable if the maker and drawee | lands. fail. | Testator.—The person who has made a valid will. Shipment.—Goods ; act of shipping. | Tickler-—Name of a book kept by banks. Sigtt,—The time of presenting a bill to the drawee. | Time draft.—A draft maturing at a future specified Signature.—The peculiar style in which a person signs his name. Sinking Fund.—A fand created by a governinent or corporation forthe extinction of its indebtedness, by the gradual purchase of its outstanding obliga- tions, and the application of the interest saved on these obligations thus redeemed to further purchases. Steeping Partner.—One who invests his capital in a business house, aud shares the profits, but takes no part in the active management of it. Silent. Partner.—One who invests his capital in a busi- ness house, but whose name does not appear in the firm. His liability is limited to the extent of his contribution, except in cases where he fails to make the proper publication of his connection with the coticern. Solicitor.—One who solicits; a lawyer or advocate in a court of chancery. Solvency.—Ability to pay all debts. Specialty.—A writing sealed and delivered, containing some agreement. Statement.—Usually a list of property, or resources and liabilities. Statistics. —A collection of facts respectiug any partic- ular thing. Statute law.—A law established by act of the legislative power. Stipend.—Settled pay for services; daily, monthly or annual salary. Stipulation.—An agreement or contract. Stocks. Shares in joint stock companies, and notes on the Government. Stock Broker or Jobber.—One who speculates in stocks, Sue.—To prosecute in law. Surety.—Security against loss; a person bound for the faithful performance of a contract by anothes Facit,~That which is understood ; implied. tim | Zonnage.—Weight of « ship’s load; capacity of ¢ vessel. | Py eg ry Pd ae an<. ar ' 10] sae . | Zransact. —To perform any act of business; to mat ge. | Zransfer.—To convey ; to sell or alienate title. | Zreasury.—A place where public money is kept. | Trustee. —One to whom some special trust is assigned. | Uncurrent—Not passing in common payment, & £.s. d@. in the United States. | | Underwriter.—An insurer; so called because he under | writes his name to the conditions of the policy. | Usage of Trade.—Custom, or the frequent repetition of | the same act in business transactions. | Usance.—A fixed time on bills of exchange; business | habit generally acted upon from force of custom. | Usury.—Excess of interest over the amount allowed by law. | ‘alid.—Of binding force; strong; effectual. | ] Value.-~The rate of worth or amount or price Gfé commodity. Vend—To sell; to transfer for a pecuniary considere- tion. Vendee.—The person to whom a thing is sold. Versus.—Against. Void.—Having no binding force or eff Sec. J ‘ r I ys on : Voidable.—That which has some force or effect, but which, in consequence of some inherent quality, may be annulled or avoided. | Voucher.—A paper that confirms anything, particularly the truth of accounts. ; Wages.—Compensation for services. Waiver.—The relinquishment or refusal to accep? * a right. ‘ Wares.—Goods; merchandise ; commodities. Warrant.—To invest with authority to arrest a person. to insure against defects. Wharfage.—Mouney paid for use of a wharf or deck. Wharfinger.—The owner or keeper of a whartBusine ess Rules and a HE need of a compet ndium of rules and laws required in daily business is evident. For want of this vave tv consult lawyers aud wat pn mer pay fees, where- as, if they had at ee aoe st the 3: iformation which this chapter i hes in a plain, condensed form, they would save themselves much trouble and expense. ihe find here in a nut-shell what you would have to wade through many volumes to obtain, and are furnished with legal knowledge which is of imestimable service tc Susiness. CEES very man doing Many mistakes may be avoided by con- sulting the maxims and laws here iaid down. q CONCISE BUSINESS RULES The intelligent and upright business man regulates hisconduct by fixed principles and established methods. He is not the creature of impulse or caprice. 1. He is strict in keeping his engagements. 2. He does nothing carelessly or hurriedly. 3. He does not entrusy to others what he can easily do himself. A. He does not leave undone what should and cz be done. 5. While frank with all, keeps liis plans and iargely to himself. 6. Is prompt and decisive in his dealings, and don’t overtrade. 7. Prefers short credits to long eres; and cash to eredit always. 8. Is clear end explicit in his bargains. g. Docsn’t leave to memory what should writing Io. Keeps eapies of all important letters sent, and files carefully all papers of ¥ A II. Doesn’t allow his desk sk tobe littered, but keeps it fidy and well arranged. 12. Aims to keep everything in its proper place. 13. Keeps the details of his business well in hand, ANS De ee ae Laws for Daily Use. 14. Believes that those whose credit ig suspected exw not te be trusted. 15. Often examines his books and knows how h« stands, 16, Has stated times for balancing his books, ax sending out accounts that are due. 17. Never takes money risks that can be avoided, and shuns litigation. 18. Is careful about expenses, and keeps within his income. and 19. Doesn’t postpone until to-morrow what can 2% well fe done to-day. 20. Is extremely careful about endorsing for amy one. ‘To claims of real need he responds generousiy. CONCISE BUSINESS LAWS. | ‘The following compilation of business law contaie , the essence of a large amount of legal verbiage: %. If a note is lost or stolen, it does not release th:. maker; he must pay it, if the consideration for whick it was given and the amount can be proven. 2. Notes bear interest only when so stated. 3. Principals are responsible for the acts of th agents. 4. Each individual in a partnership is responsit?- for the whole amount of the debts of the firm, except in cases of special partnership. 5. Ignorance of the law excuses no one. 6. The law compels no one to da impossibilities. 7. An agreement without consideration is void. 8. A note made on Sunday is void. : Contracts made on Sunday cannot be eniorced. oc. A note by a minor is voidable. A contract mat ies minor is void. 11. Acontract made with a lunatic is void. 12. A note optained by fraud, or ‘rom a person in ¢ state of intoxication, cannot be collected. 13. It is a fraud to conceal a fraud. 14. Signatures made with a lead-pencil are good i law. 15. Areceipt for money is not always conclusive. 16. The acts of one partner bind all the rest. 17. The maker of an ‘‘accommedation”’ bill or nots (one for which he has received no consideration, hey. ing lent his name or credit for the accommodation a} and under his own eye. | the holder} is not bound te the person accommodated. 30] dit, ett. > ar : Shh Ne ea ‘ ee es esti eas! ee Se ee CG te ee et LL aR SPE a ot aT eo ~s ‘ raat bac ccs eeangng ORE RRS. he $3>-3- pe OE mined _ eee - . rn eee Sahar Ca Te ee 2 Sai na ae ev" eee——— He" A ey es Cn beehbal a 00 Ei Lee oe Neate Sead AENEAN ee Dena terrea tac ae. Saath i ed a ET Re Le pe cial mses eaten err Peed ee on Bo Se a Se Leelee ata a a Dah 8 Su POOLE LT o12 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. sut ig bound to all other parties, precisely as if there was a good consideration. 18. No’consideration is sufficient in law if it be z/egal in its nature. 19. Checks or drafts must be presented for payment without unreasonable delay. 1 20. Checks or drafts should be presented during busi- yess hours; but in this country, except in the case of banks, the time extends through the day and eveuing. ar. If the drawee of a check or draft has changed his residence, the holder must use due and reasonable dili- gence to find him. ~ 92. If one who holds a check, as payee or otherwise, transfers it to another, he has a right to insist that the sheck be presented that day, or, at farthest, on the day following. 93. A note indorsed in blank (the name of the in- Jorser only written) is transferable by delivery, the game as if made payable to bearer. 24. If time of payment of a note is not named. it is payable on demand. 25. The time of payment of a note must not depend wpon acontingency. The promise must be absolute. 96. A bill may be written upon any kind of paper, gither with ink or pencil. 27. The payee should be namec. in the aote, unless it is payable to bearer. 28. An indorsee has a right of action against all whose names were oun the bill when he received it. 29. If the letter containing a protest of non-pay- iment be put into the post-office, any miscarriage does not affect the party giving notice. Notice of protest may be sent either to the place of business or of resi- Jence of the party notified. go. The holder of a note may give notice of protest aither to all the previous indorsers or only to one of them ; in case of the latter he must select the last in- dorser, and the last must give notice to the last before 32. If two or more persons, as partners, are jointly Hable on a note or bill, due notice to one of them ig sufficient. 33. Ifa note or bill is transferred as security, or even as payment of a pre-existing debt, the debt revives if the note or bill be dishonored. 34. An indorsement may be written on the face or back. 35. An indorser may prevent his own liability to be sued by writing ‘““without recourse’’ or similar words. 36, An oral agreement must be proved by evidence, A written agreement proves itself. The law prefers written to oral evidence, because of its precision. 37. No evidence can be introduced to contradict or var3' a written contract; but it may be received iu order to explain it, when such explanation is needed. 38. Written instruments are to be construed and interpreted by the law according to the simple, cus- tomary and natural meaning of the words used. 39. The finder of negotiable paper, as of all other property, must make reasonable efforts to find the owner, before he is entitled to appropriate it for his own purposes. If the finder conceal it, he is liable to the charge of larceny or theft. 40. Joint payees of a bill or note, who are not part ners, must all join in an indorsement. 41. One may make a note payable to hi. own order and indorse it in blank. He must write his name across its back or face, the same as any other indorser. 42. After the death of a holder of a bill or note, his exccutor or administrator may transfer it by his indorsement. 43. The husband who acquires a right to a biil ot note which was given to the wife, either before or after marriage, may indorse it. 44. ‘Acceptance’? applies to bills and not to notes him, andsoon. Each indorser must send notice the | same day or the day following. Neither Sunday nor any legal holiday is counted in reckoning time in which notice is to be given. 3x. The loss of a note is not sufficient excuse for not It is an engagement on the part of the person on whom the bill is drawn to pay it according to itstenor. The usual way is to write across the face of the bill the word ‘‘ accepted.” 45. An account outlawed according to statute of gimug notice of protest. state where it is contracted cannot bs coliected antless judgment note has been given.Is there any good reason why every girl should not learn book-keeping also? A practical knowledge of accounts and of the various forms used in business, ouyht t be acquired by every individual. For the want of such knowledge, mistakes and blunders are constantly occurring. Every household should have its accountant. e VERY boy should learn book-keeping. Book-keeping. <(gug' 8 #28 The system of book-keeping herewith pre sented, is that taught in Peirce’s Business College, Philadelphia, which is considered the leading institution of its kind in the United States. ‘The publishers of this work acknowledge Mr. Peirce’s courtesy in placing at their disposal the system taught in his college, a knowledge of which can be gained by any one, and will be found invaluable. SIGNS AND ABBREVIATIONS USED IN BUSINESS. Acc. Account Ad lib. At pleasure Admr. Administrator Admx Administratrix Adv. Adventure Agt. Agent Amt. Amount Ans. Answer A.D, In the year of ou. Lord A. M. In the year of the World A.M. Before noon——Morning Apr. April Asst, Assistant Asst. Assorted Aug. August Ave. Avenue Bal, Balance Bas. Boards Bgs. Bags Bol. Barrel Bk. Bank BB. Bill Book Blk. Black Bb. Bales Bot. Bought Bro. Brother Brot, Brought Bu, Bushel Bxs. Boxes Bills Rec. or B/R Bills, Pay. or B/P Bills Receivable Bills Payable Cop. - Capital ( cB. Cash Book Ch’ gd. Charged Ch. Check Ger. Car load GaOep: Collect on delivery Co. Company Coll, Collateral Col, Collection Const. Consignment Com. Commission Con, Contra Cr. Creditor Crs: Cents i. is Day Book Dep. Deposit Dee. December Deft. Defendant Df. Draft Dis. Discount LD Ts Double first class Do. Ditto—the same Doz. Dozen Dy. Debtor Dray. Drayage Lois. Days Ea. Each Lo, Le Errors excepted Lc O; FE, Errors and omissions excepted Eng. English Ent d, Entered Lé al, And others oe . ea . SRS a el : | Tl bara | [_ Beb. 315 To Student | amount invested || 2500|00 Feb.| 3 19 By Hxpense rent for 1 month || 125/00] e15 T. J. Barlow bill of Date | 137|50|| __ Hzpense postage 10|00| ——|-—||2637|5° pala once { | | | SOE AES ** Balance | 2502/56 | | | Iso = ee ||2637|50 | 2637 5¢ ¥Yeb. | 3 To Balance | | | + | | E | | | | | 1-4 t | $$ Whe books of every business man should | it, Some mercantile accounts are comtiui- faithfully reflect his monetary transactions. | ually and almost hopelessly muddled. It is one of the achievements of a perfect | There is no necessity for this, and, besides, system of book-keeping that it chronicles | i+ is disastrous to all business success. ‘The ail the transactions of an individual or firm, | old-fashioned, country store-keeper used to and does it so effectively that the exact state | Carry his accounts in his head, or kept them of affairs can be made known any day. | with a piece of chalk on the cellar doct. There must be clear ideas as to what needs | He was a man to be laughed at, not to be to be done, and the strictest fidelity in doing | imitated. Transactions to be entered in books of oviginal entry, comprising Cash Book, Invoice Book, Sales Book and Day Book. March 1, _—Invested in business, Cash, $2000. Bought of Camden Woolen Mills, 650 yards of Cassis meces, @ $1.75 = $1137-50- Gave them cash, on account, $537.50, and my note, @ 60 days, for balance, $600. Paid one month’s Rent, in advance, ¢100. Paid for Stationery, $12.50. Sold to John Stilz & Son 200 yds. Cassis meres, @ $2.25 = $450. Received in cash, on account, ¢200, and their note, @ Io days, for $250. _Bought of Wendell, Fay & Co. 500 yds. Black Serge, @ $2.25 = $1125. Gave them cash, on account, $625, and my note, @ 30 days, for $500. Sold to Hughes & Milter, 250 yds. Serge, @ $2.75 == $587.50. Received from them, gash, $687.50. Ree Cree ee Lad Te Se eo a a ees Pa ee eee eS 177snee obs Ped Pe RP te ow Se ee A aS ~, by $80 Seteamnel ——--——__- — iar, he cash items in preceding transactions would ‘To Balance BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. appear in Cash Book as follows: \f Cr, } “ Balance 2887 |50 oe a The purchases mentioned CASH. CASH. Om To Student investment 2000 00 Mar.|1|8| By C. W. Mills on account “ J. Stilz & Son on account 200 00 : “19 ‘" Expense rent * Hughes & Miller | bill of Date 687 50 Oar Expense _ a stationery —— —||2887|5sog “* |‘* jr0} * Wendell Fay & Co} on account ae i 537 50 100100 4 12/50 \ 625100 is —~||1275]00 1612/56 Sk 2887 } PHILADELPHIA, MARCH I, oo —————— Camden Woolen Mills 650 yds. Cassimere, @ $1.75 FPG Wendell, Fay & Co. | 500 yds. Black Serge, @ $2.25 — | PHILADELPHIA, MARCH I, The sales mentioned above would appear in the Sales Book as follows: above would appear in the Invoice Book as follows: 1137|5¢@ | eee | l | Jno. Stilz & Son | | | 200 yds. Cassimere, | @ $2.25 | 450 Bees | af Hughes & Miller | 250 yds. Serge, @ $2.75 | Those items mentioned above, which do not appear in the Cash Book, Invoice Rook and Sales Book, would be entered in the Day Book as follows: PHILADELPHIA, MARCH I, Gave Camden Woolen Mills my note, @ 60 days, to balance their bill this date : ey, LL Received from John Stilz & Son their note, @ 10 days, for balance of bill of this date pas ear A Gave Wendell, Fay & Co. my note, @ 30 days, to balance their account 600/00 250/00 300|00THE JOURNAL. ¥ga book .n which the debits and credits of 4yansactions appearing in the books of origi- nal entry may be written before they are taken to the Ledger, and it is also used for the recording of debits and credits needed in closing the Ledger. The writing of debits and credits in the urnal is called Journalizing. DAY-BOOK JOURNAL. The Day Book and the Journal are fre- quently combined in a book called the Day Book-journal, in which the Day Book entry is written and journalized immediately un- ferneath, and the amounts extended in the money columns as in the Journal, the money eolumus in the Day Book-Journal being used 1 debits and credits instead of for items and intals as in the Day Book. RULES FOR DEBITING AND CREDITING. The rules for debiting and crediting Per- sonal Accounts, be they with individuals, firms or corporations, are. BOOK-KEEPING, cae eh ee 881 Debit the account of those to whom you give any value, Credit the account of those from whom you receive any value. The rules for debiting and acrediting accounts with things are: Debit the thing received, or that which costs value. Credit the thing parted with or that which produces you value. “Posting” is the process of transferring the various entries in the Cash Book and Day Book to their proper accounts in the Ledger. It is the custom of the best book: keepers to post their books once a week, and thus avoid an accumulation of work at the end of the month; but in no case should the posting be delayed longer than once a month, as it is necessary to close the Cash Book and Day Book on the last day of each month as has been already explained. The book-keeper must be careful to post each entry on the proper side of the account in the Ledger, and to write the figures correctly, as the slightest error will throw the books ont of balance. Memorandum of transactions entered im the Day Book, on page 380, and here Journalizea. March 1, —Gave Camden Woolen Mills my note, @ 60 days, to balance account, $600. Received %om John Stilz & Son their note, @ go days, for balance of bill this date, $250. Gave Wendell, Fay & Ce. ty note, @ 30 days, to balance their account, $500. These would appear in the Journal as follows: PHILADELPHIA, MARCH I, | Camden Woolen Mills 600; 00 Bills Payable 600/00 ra NAD Bills Receivable 250|00 Jno. Stilz & Son 250|00 pe ee ee Lake Wendell, Fay & Co. 500100 Bills Payable | ae 1 - Memorandum of tra..sactions entered in the Cash Book, on page 380, and here Journalized. March 1 _—Invested in business $2000. Gave Camden Woolen Mills, on account, $537.50. Paid one month’s Rent, $100. Paid for Stationery, $12.50. Received from Jno. Stilz & Son, on account, $200. Gave Wendell, Fay & Co., on account, $625. Received from Hughes & Miller, on account, $687.50. 4 Po Pe oe pote St A tee ee « b5h haat eCO RRA Ske REL a a ae . , “ - . a eee a eed enone nn “ 7 ~ ce a rae be Fen Fees ae? ee oe a od wat al re yeSetanta hee men a Ste eel ee at en nA a MS Chea he eee a PS K o r = BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS ‘hese would appear i. the Journal as i follows PHILADELPHIA, MARCH I, : | — a ee EE ———_— SSS i ARQ! 2557 | SO Cash 5 | Merchant | | 2000/00 Jno. Stilz 8 < Sor 200|00 j Hughes & Miller | 687/50 Camden Woolen Mills [eek 3 ie se | | Expense Js he ae | Expense Pee ) Bel | W ea | 8 Nh | : Wendell, Fay QO; | enh | | 1” seater | | | | : ms : : Se IOe st DY Peg les Pe y Memorandum of transactions entered tn the Invoice Book, on page 380, and here fournatized., March, f .—Bought of ec Seb colen Mills bill of Cassimeres amounting to $2137.50. Bought of Wendell, Fay & Co. bill of Serge, $1125.0c These would appear in the cei as follows: PHILADELPHIA, MARCH 3, ee _ oo ns ee, \ | a To hee = | | Mdse 2262/50 | Camden Woolen Miile | 1137|5@ | he Wendell, Fay & Co. T125|00 poe eee | | 1 ep Memorandum of transactions entered tn the Sales Book, on page 350, and here fournalized. March 1, .—Sold John Stilz & Son Cloths to the amount of $450. Sold H Hughes & Milier bill of Cloth: ‘9 the amount of $687.50. These would appear in the Journal as follows: PHILADELPHIA, MARCH fF ‘i | | - So | | 3 no, Stil. & Sor 450 0G | Hughes & Mille: | 687/50 | | Mdse. | 1137|50 | | | | | | E 1 1 re oh LEDGER. ! of which wv e may become possessed, an The Ledger is the principal book, and all | account must be opened and in d d other books are subservient to it. It is che book of accounts, and in it are gathe from the books of original entry, eith 1 directly or through the Journal, all the stnal business transactions of which a record has been made; but nothing can be entered into the Ledger until (1) it is known to what account the entry belongs, and (2) 0. which All in. Numerous transactions are thus it, in this condensed form, into a vers compass. ‘The debtor, or charges items, are placed on the left hand side anc the creditor, or discharged, or trusted items, on the right hand side. By deducting the sum of the items on the one side, from the #ide it is to be entered. For each person | sum of the items upon the ye side, ar who becomes indebted to us, or to whom we | easy determination is made of the amoumé swe anything, and for each sort of property | due t* us, or due by us, or et aan ésBOOK-KEEPING. 8 4 property on hand, or tle actual gain or loss. The Ledger is a suimimary of the transac- tions, and gives only the date and amount of the items, the page of the books from which they have been brought, and the name of the corresponding ae For other particulars, reference must be made to the books of original entry and to the auxiliary books. A double entry Ledger is usually divided vertically in the middle, and the ruling is the sane on the left as on the right. Transactions appear in the books of origi- nal entry in the order of the date of their Mein ooo eS) veg MAA x sified in the erder of their kind, all of the same kind being: grouped together and con- stituting an account. An account in the Ledger is an arrauge ment of the debits and credits of business transactions of a like character, in a space set apart for them with the name or title of the account written at the top. The Ledger is made up exclusively of these different kinds of debits and credits, or different accounts, and every account has ‘wo sides—a debit or left hand one, and a credit or right hand one. Below will be found a space ruled as a page of a double entry Ledger, with the use of each division occurrence, but in the Ledger they are clas- denoted: {Side.) (Name ofa unt.) (Side Dir. BILLS i Gero: Cr. | ain | (os : lr4| To Jno. Wanamaker | 560 || 75869 f July | 9| By W. M. Singerly 549 || 565/73 jaly loeeck | | | | eee | | - | Oe i ic | ¢ 3 | 3 3 il | = ig | 5 2 = || 2 \- v eg eal 4 || S jc » } a |< 4 eos ee : Peelers ee BW, elie A | | 2 et alee Bila é lee ee 0 bos | He Ge 2 OA eelea a 15 2 tee ees 29 19 ge 219 ~ a | § |2 ® | = Pea Ale ri > a Ae ieee el 5 Oval tee ae w x | 9 5 | w wo Y | vo OC ° Ona oa) a g 8 || ee tice 3 Q || hoy 0 a ~ | S te | 4 9 SVs 5 | > Sill H elt | a = || : ae he | g || | oe | Perea P a ep aeee i Ta = SO ae a er ar Satis tek eel Fn esata li nee Aa peat Ll A * 5} BY 4 * = ‘ 4 } % y "i 284 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. Dy CASH. Cr, = SS a — | | : ] dries | soooo f Jan. |31| By Sundries 5 || 30cloa aan ob a ee = | 300,00 ep; j29| do 20 || 4ooloo Mar. an do 34 200,00 Mar i310“ do 34 | 15000 Apr. 30| “ do 46 || 100.00 f Apr. |30) © do 46 || 200'00 May Bis do 53 200/00 May i31; “ eS 53 | 100100 ‘ 6 ooloo f June |2o| “‘ do 4 || 30000 Sale = cate | a “$< Balance | 350.00 2: ee | 1800|00 1800.00 a eee ee oe _ . eee | 7 {une |30| To Balance | 350,00 It will be noticed that the total Recezpis of Cash are entered on the Debit, or left hand side, and that the total Payments are entered upon the Credit, or right hand side. MERCHANDISE ACCOUNT. This is a Speculatwe Account, anc } charged with all goods or other property which we buy for the purpose of selling in the regular line or conduct of our business. It embraces the manufacturers’ wares, shop- keepers’ goods and the prod‘ice or property in which a merchant trades, as well as the staple commodities of a country in the hands of regular dealers in them. Merchandise is always Credited for the sale of that which has been charged against it. It may be likened to a clerk to whom is intrusted all the goods, etc., bought, and who is discharged from the responsibility of their care when they are sold. This account must be credited “By In- hand, 2s shown in the '™nvertory, then the account is to beclosec. To” or “ By Loss and Gain” account, accorcing as tie difference between the two sides shows a gain or a loss. fter closing and ruling this account, it must be debited “To Inventory” for the amount of the stock on hand. ‘The reader is recommended to rule several pages of a blank book, and to practice keep- ing a Day Book according to the instructions herein contained. By this it is not meant that he should simply copy or confine him- self to the forms given in these pages. He should, beginning with the Cash and Day Books, open a complete set of books, and keep them as though he were actually en- gaged in business, extending them as far as possible, and posting them as directed in these instructions. ‘This will give him an ventory” for the amount of merchandise on amount of practice which will be found very useful. Purchases and Sales of Merchandise. January Io, jwuslin for $141.63. Morris & Lewis Beavers amounting to $3264.48. of $463.74. Sold M. J,. Waterhouse & Sons, Frankford, Phila., Beavers to the amount of $326.48. dart & Bro. Beavers to the amount of $652.50. Inventory of stock on hand amounts to $5500. , .—Bought from John Wanamaker bill of goods amounting to $65 fridge & Clothier a number of articles amounting to $126.37. Received from: Wood, Brown & Co. Cassimeres to the amount of $1394.60. 952.75. Bought from Straw- Bought from Coffin, Altemus & Co. a case of Bought from Bought of Hood, Bunbright & Co. Dry Goods to the amount Sold Curwen Stod Sold S. C. Webster & Son Dry Goods to the amount of $231.87 Sold Mrs. M. D. Graham, Dover, Del., goods to the amount of $75,BOOK-KEEPING. en Ce OLS oe pe ae a These entries taken from the Day Book, through the Journal, will appear in the Mer- chandise Account of the Ledger as follows: Dr. Mpsx. me Jan. |10| ToJ. Wanamaker | 8 | G Ns | A ok ss « ‘6 ‘6 ; < : || ©S 175 Jan. 10} By M. L.. Waterh } g : a Strawbridge & Clothier 8 1 126377“ | ne Cee er dee oe : | ae a : a eo Be & Co. 8 141|63 See ae ao. C. Webster & Son 8 || 231/87 ee 00% B. & Co. 8 llrzg4)60 | “ 1°] “ Mrs. M. D. Graham 8 || 7sloa 66 Morris & Lewis 8 3264 78 6s | 66 ‘6 Inventory ‘ eee las 4 “c 6“ Hood, Bonbright & Co. 8 463 74 9 ¢ | 55 - «| 6 Toss and Gair. | 15 | 741198 Cae alc | | 6785/85 ||6785 85 | | I x | | | | jan. 31 To Inventory 14 }/5500 00 | poled | | | lor ee a PERSONAL ACCOUNTS. A PERSONAL ACCOUNT is an account with either an Individual, a Firm, or a Corpora- tion, or with such a natural or legal person ss may sue or be sued at law. An Account bearing the name of an Indi- vidual, Firm, or Corporation should be debited for all moneys paid, all goods sold, or for property of any sort or kind transfer- red to such individual, firm, or corporation. Such an Account should be credited for all moneys received, or goods bougut, or for property of any sort or kind received from such individual, firm, or corporation. If the sum of the debits of such an Account is greater than the sum of the credits, the individual, firm, or corporation is in debt, and constitutes what is called in business a Book Account due to the merchant or busi- aess man, or an Asset, or a Resource, and will close “By Balance.” If, on the other hand, the sum of the credits is greater than the sum of the debits, the merchant or busi- ness iman owes the individual, firm, or cor- ~ poration, and it is called a Liability, and will be closed ‘‘’To Balance.” A very great assistance to the book-keepe in checking his books is the habit, now well- nigh universal, of sending out statements of accounts on the first of each month, by which we learn whether or not the books of our customers agree with our books, and, receiv- ing from those to whom we are indebted, similar statements, we learn how our ac- counts appear on the Ledgers of those to whom we are indebted, and thus is insti. tuted a comparison between our accounts as they appear on their books and their ac- counts as they appear on our books. his matter of sending out monthly state- ments should be borne in mind, because it is of assistance to the book-keeper in testing the correctness of his books, as well as for its importance to the financial management of the business. One can never be too prompt in making monthly statements. Personal Accounts are Non-speculatiwe Accounts. Business Transacted with Individuals, Firms and Corporations. February 10, _—Sold Robert Boyd, bill of Oils and Paints to amount of $135.50. Also sold him ros shares Reading R. R. Stock, @ $304 share, ¢3000. Bought of him too shares P share, $5200. Beeccived from him Cash for amount of bill of goods sold him, $135-50- balance due on exchange of Railroad Stocks, $1009. 25 enna. R. R. Stock, @ $52 a Paid him, on account of ET Cina te La > Ret tare SR Dc a MM ee oe Sean e ee : - ht ee To ee ee ee en nn are ro = le “To _—™ or ree <= 2 a adh = a Ae>, ore — a Re a Ae | aa a Aw Se ral a Or IRI Pas RP eee Sen tk a ae a ¥ } Fr B85 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. ‘his will appear in Robert Boyd’s Account of the Ledger as follows Dr. ROBERT BovD. , ee SS eee ————————— a ee ene a | Feb. rol To Mdse. Io | 135 50 Feb. TO) By Penna. R. R. Stock 70 ||520010¢ ae cc] 66 Reading R. R. Stock IO | 3000, 00 ae cn a+ yeh ic 135/5¢ <6 «} «6 Cash IO ||1000|00 % ie} $6 Balance |1200,00 ‘ % j : | [are | 2 — reas | 5335\5¢ SS ——— eee, — =a | Feb. |10| By Balance | roe : | = | | Tt will be noticed that Personal Accounts, be they with individuals, firms, or Corpora- tions, are debited for all values giver. tothem, and credited for all values received from them, ‘The observance of this ptdnciple will be of benefit in all book-keeping. BILLS RECEIVABLE ACCOUNT. A Bill Receivable is a written obligation for the unconditional paymeut of a certain suum of money at a specified time to a certain person, his order or bearer, without interest, Tie language of a negotiable promissory The following are the more common forms. £53 £77502 50° Thirty days after date, I promise to pay te che order of Siarpless Brothers issued by any one but the merchant, and payable to him by virtue of the written promiise contained in it. It may be eithera See SH SST SHTSSErsaresseeeerey Seventeen hundred ANA fiftverececccrecccevcverenccvecvecereees JUe negotiable promissory note, or an acceptance of a time draft. Bills Receivable Account in the Ledger is debited whenever such a note or draft is received, and is credited whenever such 4 note or draft is transferred to another, either in the course of trade, or when surrendered to the maker upon payment. note varies in different States of the Union Philad’a, March 15, POSSE RESET ESE SEH H ES EEE OEE HEHE HEHE EH EH EED POS OSDOSSEET SE SEHSH HS HHEE ESE SEES ERE E HEE EED 53 77 ee cecesaeeecereeeseseseeee oe MEAT. 100 Li ars at the Girard National Bank, without defalcatir’s, value received. No. 12. De 2/ra/i7/9 + Edward Hayworth, 750 ; $3872 55- Baltimore, Md,, June 14, ‘ Thirty days after Cate, 2 Promise OLAV .seevereearcrseseecaceecereveececsevense ovsntig to the order of Jiro. W. Garrett’s Sons sicercccectecerserecsecvececescnsenancnsoees scuesecene eee Three hundred and eighty-Sevet.ees. a tececccccceesesecesesercceoncecesesceces eeecccsces fxs Dellarse value received. i s40 by! } rey] No.3. Due 7/14/17/9 « Drafts are sometimes drawn after date and sometimes after sight. Ai i Loy. Those drawn attet date, 7f accepted, are payable the prescribed time, plus three days of grace, after the date of fhe instrument. acceptarnice. Those drawn after sight are payable the prescribed time, plus grace, aftet In neither case are they binding upon the person upon whom they ave drawn, unless he agrees to honor them by his written acceptance across the face. An 4 ¢eptance of a draft is as binding upon the person whe signs it, as is his signature to a note.BOOK-KEEPING. 387 Form of After-date Draft. $3002),. Philadelphia, May 29, ° Thirty days 000080008078 988808 C0880 988 @eovecoaescos eaeoreee euseabevssscesdreccecttite7s date, pasta the order of Win. W. Alcorat * Covcccsscassassnsdssacosteeiece sav oncatsnvesusececeidaanverbe Three hundred, eens pak gvaeasdepies acura ecsicess cha a: ste eo ate covesceseee sssccessoerez iy DOUMAt Sy value received, and charge same to the account of To J. S. Keller & Co.y 3927 Market Street, Phila. No. 51. Due 6/28/7]1/9 « Ledward H, Morris. Indorsement on face of draft. Accepted June 2, Payable at Corn Exchange Nai. Bank. J. S. KELLER & Co. Form of After-sight Draft. $2370x¢5- Philadelphia, June i, ~ THUTLY AAS. cccccceces peeesee Seccceiverane dates cc ecccesescemessce after sight pay to the order of Berwind, White & Co.cserecccscessccsscercccesszsrvessennsscasessacececcncceccacccensesseseecceces Four hundred and Thirty. sccceccrcoccccrscecerees esuscesssvoassosscevevecssssceseseseost gy LOUGIS, value received, and charge same to account of To Geo. W. Pine, 1033 Chestnut St., Phila. No. 25. Due 7/5/8/9 + Indorsement on face of draft. Accepled June §, . Payable at Girard National Bank. Samuel W. Hess. GEO. W. PINE. Received and disposed of negotiable Promissory notes and acceptances as follows? June 14, .—-Received of Jno. W. Boughton his note at 30 days, dated to-day, for $300. Received of jos. Hoffman his draft at 30 days’ sight, drawn on and accepted by Jas, Vincent for $250. Received of John Moore his note at 60 days, dated to-day, for $450. Received of John Ray his draft on Jno. F. Orne at 30 days after date, accepted by Orne, for $700. Discounted at College Bank, Jno. W. Boughton’s note of this date, for $300. Gave Allen, Scott & Co., on account, John Moore’s note of this date, for $450. July 17th.—Received Cash from Jno. F. Orne for his acceptance of Jno. Ray’s draft of June 14th, due fo me, $700. This will appear in Bills Receivable Account of the Ledger as follows: Dr. BiLLs RECEIVABLE. or. Jane (14) ToJ. W. Boughton 14 : Suslbo June |14| By Cash 14 | 309|00 : eolues Jos. Hoffman 14 250|00 wo olel & AL Scott & Co. 14 450/00 “ «| «© Jno. Moore 14 |} 450) July 17 “<2 Cashi 14 foe “ 66 46 Jno. Ray 14 700100 66 35 é¢ Balance 250/00 | see | ae | ag jaly 31) To Balance 250)00 eee ee ey Cee hee ae pe Vt ld Sk Se SN en et aes Se Se ee D2 ree =~ : s . s. ees a mania—————7EoO~C~—t—te ~ a md ee Oe mabe bee wv al el I ae al ? a Nn eaten rece a Be Pe et as esa an al ecb ble Ot ne eee eiceaed Dac bade 3 aia ee ee of ‘A $ 1 4 * 2 | ed : i 4 A Ledger, and the Trial Balance of Same. June 30, .—The Ledger shows the following bala rces on this date: Merchandise, Dr., $2547.40; Cash, Dr., $1547-84; Bills Payable, Cr., $365; John Thomas, Dr. , $145.10; Richard Mann, Dr., $75 ; George Brown, Cr., a 3 4 } ‘ 4 $325.15 ; Alfred Douglas, Cr., $61.89; Store Fixtures, Dr. $360; Expeuse, Dr., $76.70; Students’ Capital Account, 4 Cr., $4000. i , j This will appear in the Monthly Trial Balance as follows : 4 i TRIAL BALANCE, JUNE, / ea a f | | Balances. ; | i | eee | Dr. Cr ; a || Bs i ee seas | | ies | years | Fs 7| Bills Payable | Os ele if | \ | 395 OX a John Thomas | asl | i 1o| Richard Mann Nes geloo | | i 11) Geo. Brown 2 3051s an 12) Alfred Douglass | "61189 ; 13| Store Fixtures aoe | i} 14| Expense 76\70 | | 15| Students’ Capital Accoun’ | Goaclen 4752104 || 4752\04 rz eS oe Se ee wa ee 81—Specialtite SS a . Sala, n= ; POO SOE EE ee ne A a Surana Deck A a ft Pa Mad Cie eee a i 5 PA 2 398 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. CLOSING THE LEDGER. A very interesting branch of keeper’s work is closing the Ledger. are two general ways of closing accounts: latter class, showing resources and liabilitj scan belong accounts with Individuals, Firms and 2 ‘pook- Bitere Corporations, Cash, Bills Receivable, Bills Payable, etc. Unless the property possessed in the busi- . y ain” and ‘To or By ye To or By Loss and Gain” a ee ie ness has all been sold, it is a necessary step 2 iat 15 £0 DIAKE | : a a cots : in closing the Ledger to take an account of both sides equal. In the process of closing o ae foe oe Stock and to credit the respective accounts the Ledger, all a a s = eae d heretofore charged with the amount of prop: - S a, ene on and erty now on hands ye should a Tedgaaa ogether in the oe , til a first trial balance has } there compared. The gains are placed upon eae es I as Ledoer 4onucme ~ the credit side: the losses upon the debit erage = — oe ae 7 Due oie recter balance, and also, there should be a test of 5 = oe ae * a ae eon t , | the correctness of the Ledger by comparing ee ee oe eee fee Ae the Cash and Bills Receivable balances with and shows a net gain. I ; “By Loss and Gain,” is made in the Account, and increases the capital. Canital the Cash on hand and the Bills Receivable ee on hand, and the sending out and receiving ee . | of Statements. the debtor side is the greater, the account 1s » eit First.—Close a speculative / closed, “‘By Capital Account,” and shows a | | tr st.—Close os Speculative ‘ccounts net loss. ‘The opposite entry “To Loss and into “Toss and Gain’? account by journal. e e e e r e . cy Gain,” is made in the Capita! Account, and | '7*"5 and posting decreases the capital. Red ink should not be used at all, it is used for a definite purpose. general rule is to use black ink in the Ledger in the recording of all entries come from other books, and to use red ink in making entries which are made for the purpose of closing and bringing down the balances to the new accounts. the transfers of the closing entries. In closing the Ledger, it is necessary to remember the classification of Ledger Ac- counts, separating clearly those which are speculative and show losses and gains from those which are non-speculative and resources and liabilities. To Custom is not uniform, however, regarding this rule. Very many of those who use red ink for closing, prefer to use black ink in making the former class, showing losses and gains, belong Ex- pense, Discount and Interest, Commission, fasurance, Merchandise, etc., etc. ‘To the | 2 ? eed Second.—Close ‘‘ Loss and Gain” account unless | into the Capital Account by journalizing and A safe | posting. Third.—Close “Inventory”? account by which | crediting it and debiting the corresponding accounts. Fourth.—Then close all accounts now un- closed, “To” or “By Balance,” ruling them up and bringing down the balance on the opposite side of each account so closed. All entries “To” or “By Balance” toma made in ved zk, Fifih.—After the Ledger is closed take off a trial balance to ascertain if the Ledger is still in balance. If the work is correctly done, the two sides of the trial balance will be equal, for the reason that in the case in which the business is possessed of more assets than liabilities, there will be found upon the debit side all the resources, and on the credit side all the Uabilities, together with the net showSEASCATE TES : Reena arn bata BOOK-KEEPING. capital, which is the excess of resources over abilities; and the net capital properly ap- pears on the same side with the liabilities, because the business owes to its proprietor that which he has invested in it; and if all the assets were collected, dollar for dollar of their face value, as they appear on the books, and the liabilities were paid out of them, the net capital would appear as a surplus, to be paid over to the proprietor. So, in ad- versity, the debit side of the trial balance will, as before, cunsist of the resources, to- gether with the net insolvency, which, taken together, will equal the credit, or liability side, for the reason that the proprietor would have to furnish, from other resources, the amount of the insolvency of the business to enable the liabilities to be discharged, and the net insolvency is properly placed with the resources for this reason. officer of the bank.” BANK DEPOSITS. Another is: ‘In conformity with the rules : dopted by all banks of this city and mem- de in this book | * ? 7 os — ea ears ae ae te GiGk bers of the Clearing House Association, you a, oo ed i ee ile Were |e hereby notified that you are held respon. oe =. : i e ad oe miereyeon sible as endorser for the non-payment of all a 4 = Po i, a detenienee ted checks upon other banks of this city, men. a Pett a a Bs ue ERaIGETRG bers of said Association, deposited by you as ae oy a none ae deposited the cash in this bank, until the close of the a : business day next succeeding that on which liability of the bank for the money so depo- : j a sited is acknowledged by the receiving teller such checks are deposited. This bank to eek ace hook: foe such checks only for collection on yout og ee p ‘ és ee Bete ee. account through the exchanges of the Clear- e bank book. If 2s : d : a BP a copy the amount and add it to ing House. Upon all other checks and drafts — bal PY Fat nah OY deposited by you as cash your responsibility a a: " ae, k nee ie fe ae endorser continues until payment has been the stub in his check DOoK. 399 charge the account of a customer for a check drawn until it is presented and paid at bank. In keeping the check book there are many advantages arising from entering on the stub, The Philadelphia Clearing House Associa- tion furnishes to the business community quite a number of useful rules to be observed by those doing business with a bank. We quote a few as follows: POL in ee Le . . ae “Tf you write or stamp over your endorse: ment upon ail checks which you send to be deposited to your credit in bank the words, ‘For deposit to our credit,’ it will prevent their being used for any other purpose.” Another is that you “‘Do not give your checks to strangers.” Another is that “It is desired that all your checks for large amounts should be presented for payment by a person known to the paying teller or other - 2 el he re." i Ie RK: Ct cf a ote Naat ; Si wi Na re re ine pe SCM tN = " Noe a ¥ as A | 4 i 4 | ¥ { 4 i O48 8 be 4 7] - : ee ‘4 4 ca 4 | 5 Cd ; § a ined by this bank.” | 4 should deduct the amount of each check ae y aes : drawn, the difference showing the amount os | in bank subject to draft. This may not al- Besides these suggestions it is well to re- ; ways agree with the balance as shown by the member that not only with cheeks but with bank book when settled at bank, for the | promissory notes held by you and secured to reason that a business man subtracts from | you by endorsement, that you lose the secur: his bank balance the amount of the check ity of the endorsement f you fail te protest at the time of its issue. ‘The bank does not j those not paid at maturity. esHee eae nS earn iees Pan ns i la : 3 sage gE LEN EN ONG Rit i AEA OY Li ke aa an Fe Sedscbel PhS 400 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. Bank Check. No. 330 Phiiadeiphia, June 1, First National Bank. Fay to the order of j Joshua L. Batley & CO.sscrsececseeee Five hundred an 5. Dollars, GLEN i cnsessacestaccontetacsonnncconsesonssceresessensncsvsersosseo'° '9 1 OG Ss 10255 Wright & Schmid. eee reese ease neeeso sees seee e209 Reeeipt. No. 31r. Philadelphia, Jan. 3, Received from Wright & S: honiad. Four hundred And thirteen cecececerverveces ee rere in full for bill of this date. $1139 P 25 John Griffeth. teceipt when settlement is made by Note Philadelphia, June 27, . Received from Bailey & Moulton, Wm. Beck's note, dated May 14, at sixly / days, for. Rate Gust ccmsscereccccseanenensess ee encecsencscccoes : No. 173. Se CESeECCOEESERHCCEDSCHC ESCH HACC T RANE HE Se SE SEH eM Bight hundred and StxtyfOursseceecererreeeers Gj davedascugdacusctsavahuaveusns sv. settlement of Bailey & Moulton’s account, $6473 Ia HEY > Promissory Note pay Ror Ar 20.0 fhe : ; f50003 05 Philadelphra Feb 6, . a0 AO thes y fh ¢ — Jate te AY wise 4 CHO MOMS afee Aale We P7« AESE &V F ZV weeccvcesscaescesessen, 4008 eee esesser eeee ces to the order of Coffin, Altemus & Co é0 thé OFQAcT C vise Ly L166 CME iO COM UT ccceccccsecvssessoreersesese® eeseeees ah escent? eeeeeeeseeeeeese is a , . yf FIVE THOUSANG . ccccvedecersssvscvcevects Subs kau Ve ieewat Onenen 49 See nwes eovcceece, ecseces ee poy Dollar ) t the Ss centh Nat 207 al Bi WR wee ere eee eee eet eeeeeeees evrereere See OTRO ETH e THE H HHH HET e wee eee . = J without defa leation, value received. No. 357. Due Apr. 6/9. Wright & Schmid. Demand Note. £5707535- Phi ladelph Rr » fa 171, 2 On demand, I promise to PAY .e.00 GeUc ds eeavesenbancunsres nlinopocesoanautnsts sbences co to tie order of John B. Ellison Geet OMG cl ee vs cae aklascdedseve esses ss aus Ce euses aeaee ae ; Frive hundred and Seventy .ccccccccccceneneecenenneneenecneeeeee ence een ener ee eee e ees eed 3p Dokars, without defalcation, value received. Wo. 37: Valentine Baker. 325 So. 2d St. Sight Draft. eee a Ca S500 95. Philadelphia, Led, &, e Al sight Pay Lo the Or er Of. ccecerccsreccccncerensecceecescecccsnsnsevcnsasececancceeceseeeeee Biddle &* CO.cceccvecccssoccesecccsccecscceccsvced-veccencacasvecscecces TI0E RUNDE cei citncdsbovtidiee snes abaeess Jo Hadas cov laps tisondecckenessevenescsstuury eeerny value received, and charge to the account of To John H. Dick, 94% Passyunk Ave. 704 Market St No. 73: Wright & Schmia,Forms for Business Letters. be °F a o4 me 4 > tr rear « 1 * q ¢ nc - g 4 is Gtlite as easy to write a iove letter as | correspondence. In large business houses it éo write a good businessletter. Bothare | is custom 1ary te employ a correspondent whe ; sy 1 + > WA siaitxr 4 2 pase dificult, and the opportunity nsact this most delicate part of the tr no 14 i LO CS | can trat ANnHh he a ce = MY iain ded dt a ha tinnditen allt Redieemadetieed 7 = detent Maw A tho Maclin re Mila idan och eee Raetemee damm ana: ae — - i Lia bei ee E : , 4 404 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. Office of Union Express Company, NEw YorE, Nov. 28th, a New York: s, RAayMOND & Co., 219 Broadway, } | Messr ’ gent at Binghamton, that the entirg EXPRESS CO. REPORT CAUSE 5¢ DELAY MERCHANT TO ETOREKEEPER, QIVING REASON OF DELAY STOREKEEPER TO a report from our a tis being made to forward freight to destination, ing to drifts twenty feet deep in some places on the by Dec. Ist. Weare, DEAR Sirs.—We have just received region is blockaded by snow, and every effor The work of clearing the tracks is slow, OW tine. We hope that your package will reach its destination Yours respectfully, UNION EXPRESS CO., per McCook. NEw YORE, Nov. 28th, ; Mr. HucH Bair, Homer, N. yo , DEAR Sir.—The Union Express Co. report to us to-day that your goods have been delayed en the road by a heavy snow-storm, which has completely blocked up the railroad track-, also that strenuous efforts are being made to clear the roads, and they expect to have the way open to Homer by Dec. 1st. We are sorry for the detention, but it appears to have been unavo.dable. We are, Yours respectfully, RAYMOND & CO. HomER, N. Y., Dec. 5th, ‘ Mesers. RAYMOND & Co., New York: DEAR SiRS.—I have just received notice of the arrival of the goods I ordered Nov. 18th. MEROHANT,DE- Heir failure to arrive in proper time has entirely deprived me of the opportunity of selling SLINING TO RE- SEIVE GOODS; SALES LOST BY DELAY sERCHANT’S REPLY TO STOREKEEPER’S REFUSAL TO SECRIVE GOODS them, as my customers have all been supplied with these goods by a rival concern iere, so that I have rot only lost the sale of the goods, but probably some of my customers as well. I have no possible use for the goods this season, and certainly do not propose to hold them over until next winter. I have therefore been compelled to decline receiving them. Iam, Very respecttully, HUGH BLAIR NEw YORK, Dec. 7th, : Mr. Hucu Br,Air, Homer, N. Y.: DEAR Sir.—Your letter of 5th inst. is to hand, also a notice from the Union Express Co. -yith report from their Agent at Homer, that you refuse to receive the goods, and that he holds {hem subject to our further orders. We are indeed surprised to find that you have adopted such a course, as it is entirely unjustifiable. We executed your orders to the letter, and our respon- sibility ends there. The delay on the road was in uo way caused by any neglect or carelessness on our part, and your r medy, if any, lays between yourself and the Express Co. We cousider you in honor bound to take the goods and seek redress for a contingency, which no human ingenuity could a7oid, from those on whom you may be able to make good your claim. We should think that in your section of the country, ordinary foresight and prudence would prompt you to lay in a stock of these goods earlier in the season, as you surely must be aware of the risk of delay on the road in mid-winter. Your competitors have evidently exercised better judgment. We hope you will reconsider the matter, and do what is only just and right. We assure you that, if you propose to transact business in any other way, you will be unable to get your orders filled even for cash on delivery, with the risk of haying goods returned on sellers’ hands with double freight charges. Awaiting an immediate reply, we are, er Yours respectfully, RAYMOND & CO:ee, fe ees Ged FORMS FOR BUSINESS LETTERS. 408 Homer, N. Y., Dec. oth Messrs. RAvyMOoND & Co., New York: s STOREKEEPER TO DEAR SIRS.—Your favor of 7th inst. is to hand, and contents carefully noted. I must MERCH. confess that when I wrote to you on the 5th inst. I was justly annoyed at the detention of the EEI a: He : ; ; ; acaeee eos gocds ; and, smarting under disappointment, I was certainly too hasty in my conclusions. I hope DELAYED you will make due allowance for the circumstances under which I was placed at the time, and cee ee ae eae Se f : eee the vexation eas necessarily felt at seeing seasonable trade slipping away from my grasp. I appreciate fully the force of your remarks in relation to getting goods well in advance oi the demands of the season, and shall act on them in future. ee Te Dre Se ah ats ats peas Since writing to you, I have thought the matter over a little more calmly, and I have ne doubt that I shall still be able to dispose of a considerable portion of the goods ordered from you. Even were this not the case, I should certainly shrink from allowing my reputation for straight- forward dealing to suffer under any circumstances where I could avoid it. Yesterday, therefore I took the goods from the Express Co. and had thus settled the matter before your ee So P C ir letter of 7th inst. came to hand. Hoping you will let this matter pass without prejudice to any future transactions between us T am, Yours respectfully, HUGH BLAIR. r at Mr. THEODORE SAMSON, Minneapolis: ee 2NQUIRY DEAR Sir.—A dealer in your city, whose name and address is written on the inclosed pape. Eee Riity has just sent me an order for $500 worth of goods which he desires to purchase on three months. oe A PERSON ‘have never had any dealings with him, and am therefore anxious to ascertain some facts rela: tive to his character and responsibiJitv. Can you furnish me any information on these points, and do you consider him worthy of credit? I regret having to give you any trouble, and I assure you that I shall always be most happy to reciprocate should you ever have to apply to me for similar information. Very truly yours, G. P. RUSHTON. MINNEAPOLIS, Jan. 7th, ° Mr. G. P. RUSHTON, Philadelphia : FAVORABLE DEAR SIR.—In reply to yours of the 4th inst., I am happy to be able to inform you that the REPLY TOTHE person, about whom you make inquiry, merits your entire confidence. PRECEDING Of his means I am not precisely informed. I believe them, however, to be adequate to the requirements of his trade; but of his character and habits I can confidently speak in the highes? terns; he is prompt and punctual in all his transactions, and I believe no person ever had occa- sion to apply to him for his account twice. Personally, I should have no hesitation in selling him the amount you nate upon the terms specified. I am happy to be able to send you these assurances, and trusting that your business relatione with him may prove mutually profitable and advantageous, I am, Yours very truly, THEODORE SAMSON. MINNEAPOLIS, Jan. 7th, ; Mr. G. P. RUSHTON: UNFAVORABLE DEAR SiR.—I regret to say that I consider the person whose name you mention totall¢ REPLY TOTHE unworthy of being trusted. He has no capital, and, what is worse, is wholly devoid of prin: _— ciple. He is well known to have been in difficulties for some time past, and contrives tem- porarily to bolster up his affairs by obtaining new credits, and systematically underselling hig goods. Sooner or iater his failure is certain, and his creditors will, I am convinced, get next nothing. . : Very truly youra, THEODORE SAMSON.406 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. CrncInnatt, April st, Mr. L. P. MUNN; Richmond : : a : : REQUESTING THE DEAR SiR.—I trust you will pardon the liberty I take in writing to ask if you will oblige SARLY PAYMENT ne with the amount of your account within the present week, and in consideration of your DEVAN ACCOUNT paying the same before it is due, I am willing to deduct an extra discount of five per cent. [ assure you that I should not have troubled you in this matter had I not been disappointed in the receipt of cash from quarters where I confidently expected it; and I thought it possible that the deduction of extra discount, together with your general wish to serve me, would induce you to oblige me in this particular. E Very truly yours, fbi OSCAR FAULKNER. RicHMonD, April 2d, : Mr. OscAR FAULKNER, Cincinnati : REPLY TO THE DEAR SiR.—In compliance with your request, I enclose my check on the First Nationa’ FOREGOING Bank of your city for $475; that being the amount of your account against me less five per cent, Please acknowledge receipt of the same. Yours very truly, L. P. MUNN. NEw YorRE, Jan. 20th, : Mr. BLUNT SCRUBB:; RETAIL DEALER Srr.—I beg respectfully to remind you that your account nas been standing for several to cusTOMER mouths unsettled. REQUESTING I should not even now have troubled you were it not that in a few days I shall have to ineet PAYMENT OF a heavy bill, and I have at present no meatis of providing for it. &CCOUNT : : : . I should, therefore, esteem it a great favor if you would kindly let me have either the whole or a portion of your account in the course of two or three days. Thanking you for past favors, I remain, Very respectfully yours, TIGHTMAN STERN, Boston, July 15th, “ Mr. F. C. GInBert, Springfield: SRGENT DEMAND Srr.—Feeling much disappointed by your failure to settle my account according to promise, son PAYMENT [fam compelled to say that the profits on my business will not admit of longer credit. At the same time, I’should be sorry to inconvenience you, and will therefore fix the 27th inst. for payment, after which it will be quite impossible for me to wait, however unpleasant the alternative. J am, sir, Yours obediently, A. B. JORDAN. SPRINGFIELD, July roth, ‘ Mr. A. B, JORDAN, Boston: DEAR Sir.—! am happy to be able to enclose you a check on Messrs. Rice & Co., of yout JETTLING OF AN : d SVERDUE DEPT city, for the sum for which I have already been too long your debtor. Assuring you that unforeseen disappointments have been the sole cause of any want of punctuality, I remain dear sir, Yours very truly, F. C. GILBERT.en bait 1A") a » Credit. The goods were lost on the way, tase, as the court held that in consequence of Agreements, ERE are persons who transact the most important business by verbal contract. Although this is a prevail- ing custom in country places, it is a very poor way to do business. It is but fair to both parties that the contract should be in “black and white’’; then there can be no mistakes of memory, and no possibility of vvading the terms of the instrument. An agreement or contract is an arrange- ment entered into by two or more persons, by which each binds himself to perform certain specified acts within a designated time. Agreements may be verbal, but it is better in all cases, and absolutely essential in mat- ters of importance, to express them in writing. Great care should be taken, in drawing an agreement, to state explicitly and in the plainest language the various acts to be per- formed, and the time of such performance. Nothing should be left to doubt or uncer- tainty. The law requires that all the parties to an agreement shall understand its provisions in the same sense, and does not recognize the existence of a contract in which this is not the case. Thus, a person sent an order to a merchant for a particular quantity of goods on certain terms of credit. ‘The merchant gent a less quantity of goods, and at a shorter and the merchant sued the party who ordered them for their value. He failed to win his or Contracts, the failure of the mercnant w send the quate tity of goods ordered and tw grant the credit asked, there was no cammon understand. ing between the parties, and consequently no contract. A contract must show that it is made for a valuable consideration. A failure to do this renders it void in law. Fraud annuls all contracts and obligations, and the party so wronged is relieved of his obligation bylaw. If both the parties to an agreement act fraudulently, neither can take advantage of the fraud of the other; nor can one who acts fraudulently set his own fraud aside for his benefit. Agreements written in pencil are binding in law, but it is best to write them with ink, as pencil-marks are easily erased. Agreements should be prepared and signed in duplicate, triplicate, etc., according to the nui ber of personsconcerned in them. Each party should have a copy, and should care- fully preserve it. Generally speaking, all written instru- ments are construed and interpreted by the law according to the simple, customary, and natural meaning of the words used. When a contract is so obscure or uncertain that it must be set wholly aside and regarded as no contract whatever, it can have no force or effect upon the rights or obligations of the parties, but all of these are the same as if they had not made the contract. No custom, however universal, or old, oi known (unless it has actually become a law), has any force whatever, if the parties see fit 407 e ( % ; 4 i r - | "| od cy d Pd 4 ” ’ “4 pa Ne odes RRRTR Se bike mia ae a SRR ALES OS Pr oe ™- a _—Eat nateal ene: —_ ey iin, ~snslensiljn ine daca as iA dea tia einttlletie Aad seed Aedes ne. Mesa duane te deel Sed E a Ms = Sicalaiieilll deat eae — 2 ate ie, Racial = r 208 c ° 1 Aah to exclude and refuse it by words of thet contract, or provide that the thing which the custom affects shall be done in a way different from the custom. For a custom Fan sever be set up agaist ‘either the express agreement or the clear intention of the parties. Punctuation is not regarded in the con- struction or interpretation of a written instrument, or in written jaw. | BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. All contracts made in violation of a valig statute are absolutely void and of no effect. Where a proposition is made py lettes the mailing of a letter containing accept ance of the proposition completes the con. tract. It is the presumption of the law that a person in making a contract intends to bind not only himself but his legal repre- sentatives. Such representatives may there- > a | fore sue on a contract, although not named Spelling, though bad, will not avoid contract where the intention of the parties is cleat. \ | in it, and may have rights and priviledges | the same as the original contractors. General Form of Agreement. THis AGREEMENT, made this t GATE. OF ; ; Cae thousand eight hundred and ninety-one, betwe AGH CVI State of part, WITNE FERMS OF AGREEMENT follows: twenty cor delivered on or before the 15th of October; tw ds more on or before the 25th of October, and the remaining twenty cords on or twenty cor September, one hundred cords of hic ds to be delivered on or before the roth of October; twenty cords more to be wenty-fifth day of September, in the year of our Lord ons en Joe Davis, of Livonia, County of Livingston, New York, party of the first part, and John Lock, of the same place, party of the secong sseTH, That the said Joe Davis, party of the first part, hereby covenants and agrees, that he will deliver to the said John Lock, party of the second part, during the month ot cory wood, at the woodyard of the said John Lock, as J renty cords more on or before the 20th of October ; before the 30th of October; the entire quautity of one hundred cords to he delivered by the 30th of October. And the said John Lock, party of the second part, in consideration of the prompt fulfilment of this agreement by the said Joe Davis, party of the first part, agrees and hinds himself to pay air to the said Joe Davis, the sum of three dollars for each and every cord-of hickory wood deliverea to him by the said Joe Davis or his agents, and to pay for each cord of wood as soon as it is delivered at his woodyard. In case of the failure of either party to this contract to make good his promises, it is hereby | stipulated and agreed that the party so failing shall forfeit to the other party the sum of ons | fundred dollars in cash as fixed and settied damages. In WrtNEsS WHEREOF, The parties to these presents have hereunto set their hands an¢ ae seals, the day and year first above written. Signed, sealed and delivered in presence of Jow Davis. [sKatr.] Joun Lock. [SHitl W.H. JACKSON, H. C. KINGSBURY. 2 Trade Contract vetween Merchants. TaIs AGREEMENT, made this second day of March, a. D. party of the first part, and Amos Twist, party of the second part, both of the city of Buffalo, BATE OF ZONTRACT State of New York, , by and between Peter Peck, | NITNESSETH, That the said Peter Peck shall sell and deliver to the said Amos Twist, at hi fERMS OF SONTRACT ase of the kitchen and dairy. store, in the city of Buffalo, on the t.ventieth day of the present month of March, one hundreé } barrels of fine salt, in good, substantial barrels, suitable for packing beef and pork, and for *heik, DATE OF AGREEMENT TERMS OF AGREEMENT “, DATE OF CONTRACT y ‘WORK TO BE DONE PAYMENTS @EPEREES AGREEMENTS, OR CONTRACTS. 409 In consideration whereof, the said Amos Twist shall convey and deliver to the said Pete, Peck, at the storehouse of R. M. Cuyler, in the city of Buffalo, one thousand pounds of good merchantable cheese, and four hundred pounds of sweet table better ; both well packed in tierces or firkins, and made in dairies where at least fifteen cows are kept. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, The parties to these presents have hereunto set their hands and seals the day and year first above written. Executed in presence of R. M. Peay HENRY GOVE. PHIER PECK. Amos Twist. [SEA Agreement to Cultivate Land on Shares. THIS AGREEMENT, made this tenth day of August, , by and between John Holman, party of the first part, and Andrew Jackson, party of the second part, both of the town of Media, county of Chester, State of Pennsylvania, WITNESSETH, That said John Holman will, on or before the tenth day of September, break, properly fix, aud sow with wheat, all that twenty acres of field belonging to aud lying imme: diately north of the dwelling-house and garden of said Andrew Jackson, in the town of Media. That one-half of the seed wheat shall be found by said Andrew Jackson. ‘That when said crop shail be in fit condition, he will cut, harvest, and safely house it in the barn of said Audrew Jackson. That he will properly thresh and cican the same. That the straw shall be equally divided between the parties. That he will deliver one-half of said wheat, being the produce thereof, to said Andrew Jackson, at the granary near his dwelling-house, on or before the 15th day of July, That said John Holman shall perform all the work and labor necessary in the premises, 0? cause the same to be done. Witness our hands and seals, Signed, sealed and delivered in presence of JoHN HOLMAN. [SHAL,.} RICHARD WHITE, ANDREW JACKSON. ([SEAL.} PETER BELL. General Form of Contract for Mechanics? Work. Contract made this first day of January, A. D. , by and between D. L Purke, of the City of Philadelphia, State of Pennsylvania, party of the frst part, and Hiram Cannon, ot the City and State aforesaid, party of the second part, WITNESSETH, That the party of the first part, for the consideration hereinafter mentioned, covenants and agrees with the party of the second part to perform in a faithful and workmanlike manner the following specified work, viz.: To build one brick stable, according to the plans and specifications attached to this agreement, without varying in any way whatsoever from said plan and specifications. And in addition to the above to become responsible for all materials deliv- ered and receipted for, the work to be commenced on or before April Ist, , and to be com- pleted and delivered free from all mechanic or other liens on or before the first day of July, : And the party of the second part covenants and agrees with the party of the first part, in com sideration cf the faithful performance of the above specified work, to pay to the party of the first: part the sum of two thousand dollars, as follows: five hundred dollars upon the completion o the foundation walls; five hundred dollars upon the covering of said stable with the roof; and one thousand doliars upon the first day of July, , provided said stable be delivered as agreed upon above, on or before that day. And it is further mutually agreed by and between both parties, that in case of disagreement in reference to the zerformance of said work, all questions of disagreement shali be referred te Thomas Lee and John Yarnall, master builders, of the City of Philadelphia, and the award of sate: referees, or a majority of them, shall be binding and final on all parties. ane See nee a ee ee eet ht ed e a wa ee co wee CEE AN. Yh eras ae REN CU on ~ | : : ee ” # ee eee Oar ed >a eB -H ae 3 Ma a bt cao pnt heDATE TERMS SOMPENSATION BATE TERMS SAYMENTS AND DATES OF SAME FURTHER TERMS BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. IN WrtNESS WHEREOF, We hereunto set our hands and seais the day and year first abova _ written. D. L. BURKE, [SEAL] Executed in presence of HiraM CANNON. [SEAL] Bo Et. FIILER, THOMAS NEWTON. Merchant’s Agreement with his Cierk. Tus AGREEMENT, made this first day of January, A. D. , by and between J. H. Grove steen, of the City and State of New York, party of the first part, and William Wood, of the City and State aforesaid, party of the second part, WITNESSETH, That the said Willian Wood shall enter the service of the said J. H. Grove. steen as a clerk and salesman. That the said William Wood shall faithfully, honestly and diligently perform the duties of a clerk and salesman in the store of the said J. H. Grovesteen, and well and truly obey all the reasonable commands and wishes of the said J. H. Grovesteen, during the space of three years from this date. That he will guard his employer’s interests, and keep the secrets of his employer, absenting himself from his business only upon said employer’s consent. That the said J. H. Grovesteen, in consideration of said services, will pay to the said William Wood a yearly sum of one thousand two hundred dollars, in equal payments of one hundred dollars on the first day of each and every calendar month of the year, commencing on the first of February, ° Witness our hands, Executed in the presence of J. H. GROVESTEEN. JOHN HILL, \ WILLIAM WooD. FRANCIS WHITE. Contract for Building a House. THis AGREEMENT, made the tenth day of April, , between Jesse Perry of Germantown, County of Philadelphia, State of Pennsylvania, ef the first part, and Abijah Howe, of tne same town, county, and State, of the second part— WITNESSETH, that the said Jesse Perry, party of the first part, for considerations hereinafter named, contracts and agrees with the said Abijah Howe, party of the second part, his heirs, assigns, and administrators, that he, the said Perry, will, within one hundred and twenty days, next following this date, in a good and workmanlike manner, and according to his best skill, well and substantially erect and finish a dwelling house on lot number six, in block number nine, in Solomon’s addition to Germantown, facing on Talpehocken Street, which said house is to be of the following dimensions, with brick, stone, lumber, and other materials, as are described in the plans and specifications hereto annexed. [Here describe the house, material for construction, and plans in full.) in consideration of which, the said Abijah Howe does, for himself and legal representatives, promise to the said Jesse Perry, his heirs, executors, and assigns, to pay, or cause to be paid, to the said Perry, or his legal representatives, the sum of Bight Thousand Dollars, in manner 2s follows, to-wit: One Thousand dollars at the beginning of said work, one thousand dollars ou the fifteenth day of May next, one thousand dollars on the first day of June next, two thousand dollars on the first day of July next, and the remaining two thousand dollars when the work shall be fully completed. It is also agreed that the said Jesse Perry, or his legal representatives, shall furnish, at his or their own expense, all doors, blinds, glazed sash, and window frames, according to the said plan, that may be necessary for the building of said house. {t is further agreed that in order to be entitled to said payments (the first one excepted, which is otherwise secured), the said Jesse Ferry, or his legal representatives, shall, according te the architect’s appraisement, have expended, in labor and material, the value of said paymenta on the house, at time of payment.AGREEMENTS, OR CONTRACTS. 411 For failure to accomplish the faithful performance of the agreements aforesaid, the party se failing, his heirs, executors, or assigns, agrees to forfeit and pay to the other party, or his legal representatives, the penal sum of Fifteen Hundred Dollars, as fixed and settled damages, within one month from the time of so failing. In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our hands, the year and day first above written. PoaresrTe JESSE PERRY. ABIJAH Howe. Form of an Agreement for the Sale and Delivery of Personal Property. DATE This agreement, made this —— day of ——, one thousand eight hundred of the city of of the first part, and of the said city, of the second part, Witnesseth, that the said , in consideration of the covenants on the part of the said ‘ doth covenant to and with the said , that he will deliver to the said —— at his storehouse in —— aforesaid, one thousand bushels of wheat, of good merchantable quality, on or before the —~ day of next. And the said , in consideration of the covenants on the part of the said doth covenant and agree to and with the said ——, that he will pay to the said at the rate of —— for each bushel of wheat so delivered, immediately on the completion of the delivery thereof. In witness, etc. , between ——=, WERCHANDISE PRICE TO BE PAID ARBITRATION. Before the award of the arbitrator or arbi- When two or more persons fail to agree in the settlement of a business transaction, it is usual to refer the matter in dispute to one or more disinterested persons, who shall trators is made, either of the parties to the dispute may withdraw his offer to accept the decision of the arbitrators. He must, how- ever, give formal notice to each and all of determine what is fair to each and all of the patties to the controversy. The parties to the dispute should pledge themselves to abide bv the decision of the arbitrators. the other parties of his intention, or his withdrawal is of no effect. An agreement to submit a matter to arbi tration may be either verbal or in writing. Form of Agreement to Refer to Arbitrators. -MATTER TO BE REFERRED Know ALL, MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That we, Richard W. Jenkins and Samuel R. Hicks, both of the city of Easton, State of Pennsylvania, do hereby promise and agree, to and with each other, to submit, and do hereby submit the question and claim between us respecting the sale of one thousand bushels of wheat from the said Richard W. Jenkins to the said Samuel R. Hicks, on the tenth day of September, 189 , to the arbitrament and determination of Henry W. Palmer, Joseph B. Howard, and Alfred T. Simpkins, of the city of Easton, whose decision aad award shall be final, binding, and conclusive on us; and, in case of disagreement between the said arbitrators, they may choose an umpire, whose award shall be final and conclusive; and, in case of disagreement, the decision and award of a majority of said arbitrators shall be final SHOICE OF UMPIRE and conclusive. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, We have hereunto set our hands this tenth day of October, A. D. Witness, GEORGE P. FRICK, \ THomMaAS H. ALLEN. RICHARD W. JENKINS. SAMUEL R. HICKS.Y * rt 4 Ms ei Siete a a cL Laws of Partnership. ms EN who associate themselves to- P/ 4 gether in business should have a clear understanding of thei” mu- ‘ual and individual rights and obligations, A partnership 1s an agreement between two or more persons for joining together heir money, goods, labor, and skill, or any or all of them, in some lawful commerce or dusiness, under an understanding, express, or implied from the nature of the undertak- ing, that the parties to the agreement shall share between them the profits and Joss aris- ing therefrom. is stated, a partnership may be formed by oral agreement, but it is always better and safer that it shouid be based upon written atticles of agreement, in which the terms and conditions of the partnership must be stated explicitly. A single joint transaction, cut of which considered by itself, neither profit nor loss arises, will not create a partnership. Neither is it a partnership where parties make a joint purchase and each then and there takes his proper share of the goods. No especial form of words is necessary in the preparation of articles of partnership. The agreement should give the full names of the parties to it, the amount of money or goods, or the nature of the services, contri- buted by each; should state clearly the responsibility assumed by each; and should rT set forth the manner in which the profits | arising from the agreement are to be divided, in the absence of such statement the law assigns an equal responsibility, and presumes an equal division of the profits. ) { ’ ee pl. The partnership dates from the date of the . articles, unless otherwise expressly stated in the agreement. li 1s not necessary that each partner should contribute an equal amount of money to be | entitled to an equai share of the profits. An individual may contribute his knowledge o! the business to be engaged in, or his skill, o1 his labor, or all three, the other partner or partners contributing a specified sum of mo: — ney, or the money end their services. ‘The agreement must state exactly what is contri: buted. Hach and every partner is liable for the detts or losses of the concern. A partners ship may bind one or more partners to bear the losses, and exempt another partner, or partners, from such losses. ‘This agreement is perfectly valid between the partners, but it is not good against creditors unless such creditors in dealing with the firm were aware of this agreement, and based their trans actions upon it. The act of one partner binds all the others. Thus, if one partner gives a negotiable note for the use of the firm, and signs it with his individual name, such signature binds all the other partners. Each partner is absolutely responsible to every creditor of the firm for the whole amount of the debt. If his agreement with them limits the amount of his responsibility he may proceed against them te recover his loss, A person lending his name to a firm, ot causing, or allowing it to be published as one | of the partners in a concern, or allowing itPen yee Ws pea he A Se wight & oF LAWS OF PARTNERSHIP. 418 @@ be used as a partner after he has with- drawn from the concern, is in the meaning of the law a partner as regards the claims of creditors. The Silent Partner. A person who contributes his money to the capital of a firm and shares its One without allowing his name to be used, 1 termed a secret or silent partner. A person contributing to the capital and sharing the profits of the concern, but taking no active part in its management, is termed a sleeping or dormant partner. Both of these are liable to creditors for the debts of the concern, even though they did not know them to he members of the firm. The test of partnership is the participation in the profits of the business. In forming partnerships it is generally the rule to form them for a stated REO, which must be expressed in the agreement. ‘This is termed a limited partner: hid nd expires “by limitation” at the end of the period named. he partners are then free to renew their agreement or not, as they may see fit. Where an agreement fo not specify such a period, the law presumes that a general partnership is ee This may be dis- solved or ended at the pleasure of either party. Liabilities. A sleeping or dormant partner is not fable for the debts of the firm contracte after his retirement, even though he may Bive no notice of his retirement, as such debts are not contracted upon the strength of his credit; and as he has no further parti- cipation in the profits of the firm, he cannot be called on to share its liabilities. When a general partnership is dissolved by the wanton or arbitrary withdrawal of either partner, such partner renders himself they may suffer by this action. It is ueaa to state in the agreement how a general part: nership may be terminated, and this stipula: tion is binding upon all the partners. A partnership may be dissolved by the ume animous consent of all the partners, or a court of equity may, for sufficient cause, de- cree the dissolution of such partnership. Dissipation on the part of a partner, dis: solute or reckless habits, calculated to en- danger the credit or safety of the firma, are sufficient grounds for the other partners to invoke the action of the courts, where a mu- tual agreement cannot be had. The death of a partner dissolves the firm, and its affairs must be adjusted as soon as possible thereafter. The interest of a partner in business may be attached by his creditors for his private debts. Such attachment operates as a disso- lution of the firm. When a partnership is dissolved, notice of such dissolution should be promptly published in the principal newspapers of the place in which the business was con- ducted. Notice should also be sent to the correspondents of the firm. In the absence of such precautions each partner continues liable for the acts of the others to all persons who have no knowledge of the dissolution. The property of a partnership is bound for the debts of the firm. The creditor of one of the partners cannot attach such property until the debts of the partnership are paid. If, after such payment, a surplus remain, then such ereditor may attach his debtor’s interest in the partnership funds in payment of his private debt. Special Partnerships. The statutes of some of the States recog: nize another kind of partnership, known as special partnership. A special partner is Kable to the others for the loss or damage 32 one mae contributes a stated sum of money ‘ rs 5 2 i ‘ a | t j a | ny ; | a 4 : ; ‘ Pe ea | ae La) i rf te ; eae ST OES RE aR et a eee NS Ot Cc Pee eR oe en er a oh ~ Siheche SaeEe<——S-S-S-S—“‘“=— re Me BehctkES Ss qj gid BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. so the business of the concern, for a desig- nated period. He shares in the profits of the businessaccording to his agreement with the general partners; but his liability 1s limited to the amount of money contributed by him to the capital of the firm. In order to render a special partnership valid, the partners must publish in-one or more newspapers, publisned in the town in which they do business, an advertisement | setting forth the nature and limitation of their partnership, givizy the names of the general partners, the name of the special partuer and the exact amount contributed by him to the capital of the concern, This statement must be verified by the signatures of all the parties, and sworn to before a magistrate, and this attestation must form a part of the advertisement. Care must be taken to see that the advertisement states the exact amount contributed by the special partner. An error in this respect, even though it be the fault of the printer, if allowed to remain uncorrected, destroys the effect of the agreement, and renders the special partner a general partner. In such a case he becomes liable for the whole dehi of the firm. Form of Partnership Agreement. ARTICLES OF AGREEMENT, Made this first day of January city of Cleveland, State of Ohio, and Lewis Camp, of the city aud State aforesaid, DATE , between S. R. Dean, of the KIND OF BUSINESS WITNESSETH, That said parties above named have agreed to become copartners in the business of buying and selling dry goods, and by these presents do agree to be copartners together under and by the name or firm of Dean & Camp, in the buying, selling, and vending all sorts of goods, wares and merchandise, to the said business belonging their copartnership to ’ > o 5) Pp I commence on the fifth da of January ay. y> , and to continue for five years from that date, and to that end and purpose the said S. R. Dean and the said Lewis Camp have each contributed the swmn of ten thousand dollars as capital stock, to be used and employed in common between them for the supportand management of thes aid business, to their mutual benefit and advantage. And RENTS AND it is agreed by and between the parties to these presents, that at all times during the continuance OTHER EXPENSES of their copartnership, they and each of them, will give their attendance, and do their and each of their best endeavors, and to the utmost of their skill and power exert themselves for their joint interest, profit, benefit, and advantage, and truly employ, buy, sell, and merchandise with their joint stock, and the increase thereof, in the business aforesaid. And also that they shall and will at all times during the said copartnership bear, pay, and discharge equally between them, all rents aud other expenses that may be required for the support and management of the said business; and that all gains, profit, 9 + and increase that shall come, grow, or arise from or by : ; S55 means of their said business, shall be divided between them, in equal proportions, and all loss that shall happen to their said joint business, by ill commodities, bad debts, or otherwise, shall be borne and paid between them. BOOKS OF And it is agreed by and between the said parties, that there shall be had and kept at al} &CCOUNT times during the continuance of their copartnership, perfect, just, and true books of account, wherein each of the said copartners shall enter and set down, as well all money by them or either of them received, paid, laid out, and expended in and about the said business, as also all goods, wares, commodities and merchandise, by them or either of them, bought or sold by reason of on account of the said business, and all other matters and things whatsoever to the said business and the management thereof in anywise belonging; which said books shall be used in common eR. * AnD LOSS between the said copartners, so that either of them may have access thereto, without any inter: ruption or hindrance of the other. And also the said copartners, once in each and every year, or oftener if necessary, shall make, yield, and render each to the other, a true, just, and perfect inventory and account of all profits and increase by them, or either of them, made, and of ali losses by them, or either of them, sustained; and also all payments, receipts, disbursements, and all other things by them made, received, disbursed, acted, done, or suffered in this said pee nership and business, and the same account so made shall and will clear, adjust, pay, aud deliver, each to the other, at the time, their just sbare of the profits so made as aforesaidmaly | PROHIBITED wipes & esp LAWS OF PARTNERSHIP. INDORSEMENTS And the said parties hereby mutually covenant and a during the continuance of the said coparinership, 415 gree to and with each other, that, neither of them shall ner will indorse any note, or otherwise become surety for any person or persons whomsvever, without the consent of the other of the said copartners. : And at the end, or other sooner determination of thei: copartnership, the said copartners, each to the other, shall and will make a : 3 ; ‘ true, just, and final account of all things relating to their said business, and in all things truly adjust the same; and a SINAL RETURNS all and every the stock and stocks, as well as the gains and increase thereof, which shall appear MAE J to be remaining, either in money, goods, wares, fixtures, debts, or otherwise, shall be divided between them. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, The said parties have hereunto set their hands the day ané year first above written. Witness, S. R. DEAN. ROBERT SWAN, x LEWIS CAMP. CARLOS FRENCH, j See rac SO SON SRO Care See On Ce at mS Ba Another Partnership Agreement. aaTe THIS AGREEMENT made this tenth day of June, | Washington County, N part, witnesseth : » between James $mith, of Salem, . Y., of the one part, and Henry Smythe, of the same prace, of the other BUSINESS The said parties agree to associate themselves as copartners, for a period of five years from this date, in the business of buying and selling hardware and such other goods and commodities as belong in that line of trade ; the name and style of the firm to be ‘“‘ Smith & Smythe.” CAPITAL For the purpose of conducting the business of the above named partnership, James Smith has, at the date of this writing, invested Five Thousand Dollars as capital stock, and the said Heury Smythe has paid in the like sum of Five Thousand Dollars, both of which amounts are to be expended and used in commion, for the mutual advantage of the parties hereto, in the management of their business. EXHIBIT It is further agreed that once every year, or oftener, should either party desire, a full, just and accurate exhibit shall be made to each other, or to their executors, administrators, or representatives, of the losses, receipts, profits and increase made by reason of, or arising from PROFITS such copartnership. And aftersuch exhibit is made, the surplus profit, if such there be resulting from the business, shall be divided between the subscribing partners, share and share alike. [ Here state amount to be drawn out annually by each party.| And further, should either partner desire, or should death of either of the parties, or othez reasons, make it necessary, they, the said copartners will, each to the other, or, in case of death of either, the surviviug party to the executors or administrators of the party deceased, make a BeceUNT TO a full, accurate and final account of the condition of the partnership as aforesaid, and will, fairly BF Va sia and accurately, adjust the same. And also, upon taking an inventory of said capital stock, with increase and profit thereon, which shall appear or is found to be remaining, ali such remainder shall be equally apportioned and divided between them, the said copartners, their executors or administrators, share and share alike. i “a | j a | Pd | ye r| : 1 ; It is also agreed that in case of a misunderstanding arising with the partners hereto, which cannot be settled between themselves, such difference of opinion shall be settled by arbitration, upon the following conditions, to-wit: Each party to choose one arbitrator, which two thus elected shall choose a third; the three thus chosen to determine the merits of the case, and arrange the basis of a settlement. In WrtNess WHEREOF, The undersigned hereto set their hands the day and year first above written. PROVISION FOR SPRITRATION , ‘ ee ee . ee ee ee ee Se ee le eins - JAMES SMITH. Signed in presence of HENRY SMYTHE, JOHN JONES, } SaMUEL BROWN. Py hth or “g A "s be ne C a aa e ya NE I Ae eeey ee a paent~3 SO eee be te a kT a ee a ott en a ate ening St ee OS eae “Dee wid £ 4 i Bills of Sale, Bonds and Assignments. _#™ BILL OF SALE is a written agree but in some States, if the sale was not made 4 ment by which a person transfers to | fraudulently, for tl another person, for a valuable con- 1e purpose of evading the payment of just debts, the bill of sale is sderation, his entire right title. and interest prima face evidence of the sale, and will ‘mm personal property. hold good against the creditors of the seller. q As a general rule, in order to establish | Such questions must be decided by juries, ownership in law, the purchaser must take | who have power to set aside the sale in cases actual possession of the property purchased ; | where fraud is proved. B90DS GONVEYED WIARAN, » WRTICLE OF WARRANTY 41.0 Bill of Sale—Generai Form with Warranty. Know ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That in consideration of seven hundred doliars, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, I do hereby grant, sell, transfer and deliver unto Thomas Wright, his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, the following goods and chattels, viz. ; One set of parlor furniture, upholstered in purple velvet, . ; : . $400.00 One set of black walnut chamber furniture, : : : : : . 3e0:ce $700.00 To have and to hold all and singular the said goods and chattels forever. And the said grantor hereby covenants with said grantee that he is the lawful owner of said goods and chat tels; that they ere free from all incumbrances; that he has good right to sell the same, as afore~ said; acd that he will warrant and defend the same against the lawful claims and demands of all persons wkhomsoever. In Witness WHEREOF, the said grantor has hereunto set his hand this tenth day of March, . Witnesses: REILLY VANSANT. Q. C. BERTRON, ELMER SCHLITZER- Bill of Sale—Of a Horse, with War ‘anty. Know ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That in consideration of one hundred and fifty dol- SAL . : ; ° fer : : : GALE jars, to me paid by Patrick Dooner, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, I, John Mul- ligan, by these presents do bargain, sell, and convey to the said Patrick Dooner, his heirs, exec utors, administrators, and assigns, one bay horse, of the male sex, bay color, fifteen hands high, with a white star in the forehead, known as Old Reliable, to have and to hold the same unto the said Patrick Dooner, his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns forever. And I, for myself, my heirs, executors, and administrators, will warrant and defend said horse unto him, the said Patrick Dooner, his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, ayainst the lawful claims and demands of ali and every person or persons whatsoever. Witness my hand this tenth day of May, ° JOHN MULLIGAN. Witnesses : THOMAS JACKSON, GHORGE FLINT.BILLS OF SALE. BONDS. A Bond is a written promise, signed and sealed by a single person, to pay to another person a certain sum of money ata desig- nated time. A promise made without a seal is not a bond, but merely a in writin g simple promise. The bond must be for some Jona fide con- sideration. The petson giving the bond is called the vbligor; the person to whom it is given is valled the odligee. A bond is usually given not as « promise to pay money, for a promissory note would answer that purpose, but as a promise to pay money in case certain acts are not done. These acts are specified in the bond, and are ealled the condztion of the bond. ‘The faith- ful performance of these acts within the time specified renders the bond null and void. The amount of money named in the bond is called the penalty. It is usually sufficient to cover the debt it is intended to secure, with interest and costs added. In order to secute this the sum is fixed at twice the amount of the actual debt. The meaning and effect of this is, that if the obligor fa bist | in any respect, to do what the conditi BONDS AND ASSIGNMENTS. 2 ee ee ee 417 acknowledges himself, in the bond, bound to pay. But now the law comes in to mitigate the severity of this contract. And whatever be the sum which the obligor acknowledges himself, in the bond, bound to pay, he is held by the courts to pay the obligee only that amount which will be a complete in- demimnification to him for the damage he has sustained by the failure of the obligor to do what the condition recites. For example: suppose A B makes a bond to C Din the sum of ten thousand dollars, The condition recites that one E F has been hired by C D as his clerk, and that AB guarantees the good conduct of FF; and if EF does all his duty honestly and faithfully, then the bond is void, and otherwise remain in full force. Then suppose F F to cheat CD out of some money. A B is sued on the bond; C D cannot recover from him, in any event, more than the ten thousand dol. lars; and he will, in fact, recover from him only so much of this as will make good to CD all the loss he has sustained by E F's misconduct. As the obligee can recover from the obligor only actual compensation for what he loses, it is usual in practice to make the penal sum in the bond large enough t¢ Phe ites, then he is bound to pay the money ne cover all the loss that can happen. Common Form of Bond, Without Condition. Know Att, MEN By THESE PRESENTS, That I, Charles Thomas, of the city of Richmond eee State of Virginia, am he ld and firmly bound unto Luther Norton, of the city and State aforesaid in the sum of two hundred dollars, lawful money of the United States of America, to be paid tc the said Luther Norton, or his certain attorney, Timothy Sloan, or his assigns; to which pay: ment, well and ¢ruly to be made on or before the first day of January, , 1 bind myself, my heirs, executors, and administrators firmly by these presents. Sealed with my seal, dated March 1, 7 “4 a8 Shariac 4M19G AIA a y 297 « ( ces 17 a4-q- ays In TeSTIMONY WHEREOF, I, Charles Thomas, have set my hand and seal to this instrument March 7, : Executed and delivered in presence of J. QO. McCoox, } EB EK. BRizee. § do —] CHARLES THOMAS. [sKAm| een ne SONNETS hy eR CC ne SN , oh ee i: ot et i) i a: a a ‘ at 4 5 7 RS Oe ee ee > ee ely a ce ener n ba Sa ns “al veer eras es418 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. General Form of Bond, With Condition. Know ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That I, Mortimer Marsh, of the city of Covington, am held and firmly bound unto Clark Wilson, of the city and State aforesaid, to be paid to the said Clark Wilson, his executors, adminis. ell and truly to be made, I bind myself, my heirs, AMOUNT OF ROND State of Kentucky, in the sum of one thousand dollars, trators, or assigns, for which payment, w executors, and administzators, firmly by these presents. Sealed with my seal, dated the twentieth day of March, The condition of the above obligation is such, that if the above-bounden Mortimer Marsh, his heirs, executors, and administrators, or any of them, shall well and truly pay, or cause to jj paid, unto the above-named Clark Wilson, his executors, administrators, or assigns, the just ang fall sum of five hundred dollars, on the tenth day of March, , with interest, at six per cent. per annum, payable half-yearly from the date hereof, without fraud or other delay, then the above obligation to be void; otherwise, to remain in full force. And it is hereby expressly agreed, that, should any default be made in the payment of the said interest, or of any part thereof, on any day whereon the same is made payable, as above expressed, and should the same remain unpaid and in arrear for the space of thirty days, then and from thenceforth—that is to say, after the lapse of the said thirty days—the aforesaid principal sum of five hundred dollars, with all arrearages of interest thereon, shall at the option of the said Clark Wilson, or his executors, administrators, or assigns, become and be due and payable immediately thereafter, although the period first above limited for the payment thereof may not then have expired, anything hereinbefore contained to the contrary therecf in anywise CONDITIONS FORFEIT notwithstanding. MORTIMER MARSH. [SEAIr.]} Executed and delivered in presence of CALVIN KEYES, eG: Bones Form of Bond, with Power of Attorney to Confess Judgment. Know AL” MEN By THESE PRESENTS, That John G. Parsons, of the city of Richmond, State AMOUNT OF eee ae 8 30ND of Virginia, is held and firmly bound unto Richard Jones, of the ty and State c.oresaid, in the sum of one thousand dollars, lawful money of the United States of America, to be paid, on tke first day of March, , to the said Richard Jones, or his certain attorney, executors, adminis- | trators, or assigns; to which payment well and truly to be made, his heirs, executors, and administrators, are firmly bound by these presents. Sealed with his seal, dated the first day of January, The condition of this obligation is: That if the above-bounden John G. Parsons, his heirs, executors, administrators, or any of eee them, shal! and do well and truly pay, or cause to be paid, unto the above-named Richard jones, EFFECTIVE or his attorney, executors, administrators, or assigns, the just sum of five hundred dollars, with- ; out any fraud or further delay, then the above obligation to-be void, or else to be and remain iz full force and effect. an JOHN G. PARSONS. [SEAt.] | : | ; | Sealed and delivered in the presence of B. T. SMItrH, A. H. MERRIUE. To George Howard, Esq., attorney of the Circuit Court, at Richmond, in the county of Henrico, in the State of Virginia, or to any other attorney of the said court, or of any other court, there or elsewhere. Whereas, John G. Parsons, in and by a certain obligation bearing even date herewith, does stand bound unto Richard Jones, in the sum of one thousand dollars, lawful money of the United States of America, conditioned for the payment of 4 certain promissory rote, dated Jan< wary Ist, : DM Rdacdaieo sls ee ee eS“his ie See BILLS OF SALE, BONDS AND ASSIGNMENTS. These are to desir i f i his heirs, executors, ie See aa oe ee ee He ae ae . court or elsewhere, in an action of debt, thera or elsewhere brought, or to be brought, against me, or my heirs, executors, or administrators at the suit of the said Richard Jones, his executors, administrators, or at on the a obligation, as of any term or time past, present, or any other subsequent term 8 time there or elsewhere to be held, and confess judgment thereupon against me, or my heirs, executors or administrators, for the sum of five hundred dollars, debt, besides cost of suit, in such eaauines as to you shall seem meet; and for your, or any of your so doing, this shall be your sufficient warrant. BOWER OF ATTORNEY FORM OF And I do hereby for myself, and for my heirs, executors, and administrators, remise, release RELEASE and forever quit-claim unto the said Richard Jones, or his attorney, executors, administrators, and assigns, all and all manner of error and errors, misprisions, misentries, delects and impere fections whatever, in the entering of the said judgment, or any process or proceedings thereon or thereto, or anywise touching or concerning the same. In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal the first day of January, A. D. JOHN G. PARSONS. [sEaAtL.} Sealed and delivered in presence of ALFRED JEROME, ) GEORGE PRASE. RE ons Rete seg eA On NONE EO CSO eT SE Ne ASSIGNMENTS. he does so in good faith. Even should au. An assignment is an instrument by which } other creditor commence sit against him, a person transfers a debt, obligation, bond, | he can still prefer-one. or wages, or any actual interest, to another. An insolvent debtor making an assign- An assignment may be written on the | ment in trust to pay certain creditors, whe back of the instrument it is intended to | ate to transfer the residue to the debtor, is convey, or it may be written on a separate void as to the remaining creditors, even if paper. evidence is offered that there will be no sur Only when made in good faith is an plus. assisninent valid. Any interested party can An assignment authorizing the assignee te test its validity in an action. If the assign- change, at discretion, the order of preference | f ; 3 rs AY a Fe ee ars ae ment was made to evade debts due to cred- itors it will be set aside, but such fraud must be proven before a jury, else it will stand. An assigninent for the benefit of his cred- itors must be an unconditional surrender by a debtor of all his effects. ‘To secretly hold back any property is fraudulent, and punish- able by statute. An insolvent debtor is allowed to prefer of creditors, is void. An immediate delivery of the property must accompany an assignment for the ben efit of creditors. Assignees and trustees are entitled to the same compensation that is allowed to 4d- ministrators, executors and guardians, Assignments, and assignments of mor> gage, must be acknowledged and recorde¢, one creditor to the exclusion of all others, if like all other conveyances of property. Form of Assignment of a Promissory Note. ( To be written on the back of the note.) BENJAMIN fARRISON I hereby, for value received, assign and transfer the within written note, together with af rights under the same, to Benjam. Harrison. IOHN WANAMAKER, Pntrithes a ti r 5 a mee ae ee eee ee Pe ee Pe aa eee eal cn) eal as) a ede nt bs laDeeds and =, O documents employed in business are # more important than deeds and mortgages. In former tiines, any writing signed and sealed was termed a deed. Now, the law confines the meaning to instru- ments for the sale of lands. In this country, no lands can be transferred excepting by a deed, which must be properly signed, sealed, witnessed, acknowledged, delivered, and recorded. In some of the States, seals are not necessary to the validity of a deed. A deed should be written or printed on parchment, as paper is more perishable in character. The person making the deed is called the grantor ; the person in whose lavot the deed is made is called the granice. The deed should be signed by the grantor with his full name, written clearly in ink of the best quality. A person accepting a deed igned with a lead-pencil places his rights in jeopardy. If the grantor cannot write his name, he may make his mark. The name of the grantee should be written clearly, with good ink, in the proper place in the deed. In the States which require a seal great care must be given to see that only those recognized in law are used. Strictly speak- ing, a seal is a piece of paper wafered on, or a piece of sealing-wax pressed on the paper. In the New England States and in New York, the law does not acknowledge any other kind. In the Southern and Western States, the written word Sead, with a scrawl arouna: it, placed after the signature, con- stitutes a legal seal. 420 Pe eam a Mortgages. A- deed must be delivered in order to reits der it valid. There is no special form neces: sary to constitute a proper delivery. If the deed comes into the possession of the grantee with the knowledge and consent of the gran- tor, however it may have been gotten posses- sion of, itis a valid delivery. Ifa man makes a deed and fails to deliver it, and dies with it in his possession, the deed is of no effect whatever. A deed to a married woman may be delivered either to her or to her husband. Some of the States r-uire that deeds shall be attested by two witnesses. New York requires but one. Other States do not require any witnesses; but in all Casesaa deed ought to be witnessed by at least two persons, whether the law requires it or not. It is best to have adult witnesses; but minors may act in the capacity if they be of sound mind. ‘The witness must have no interest in the deed. For this reason a wife cannot witness her husband’s signature. Asa general rule, deeds are valid between parties even when not acknowledged. It is always best to have them ackno rledged, how- ever, as an unacknowledged deed cannot be recorded. ‘The acknowledgment must be made before a person authorized by law to receive it. In some places a deed may be acknowledged by either of the grantors, but the old custom of an acknowledgment by ad the grantors is the safest as well as the most general, Where a wife joins with her hus- band in conveying away her land, or does so separately, a particular form and mode of acknowledgment is generally required toDEEDS AND show that she acted without undue influence from him, and of her own free will. It is the duty of the justice taking the acknowledgment to state in his certificate exactly how it was made before him. A deed must be recorded to be valid. “nat is, the grantee must deliver it to the Recorder of Deeds, or other official appointed by law for that purpose, who must cause it to be copied in full in a book kept in his office for that purpose. oe ee ace a oe a a npr anepuget be eS oe Pee ibaa a kee an a 9 aw ae bl OE PI NE ce et an log ape dee are Pe OE EOE I OD. Der ra Pepe os eceeaine eae aie EES Ee MeN e soe Ree ee ee 4 ¥ i r 424 : BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. property (providing also such precatttions to secure a fair price as may be agreed upon), and, reserving enough to pay his debt and charges, pay over the balance to the mort- gagor. ‘This is called a power of sale mort- gage, and is an arrangement sanctioned by the law. It must be remembered, however, that the equity of redemption exists in all mortgages which do not contain the above express stipulation. The three years of redemption begin on the day on which the mortgagee forecloses the mortgage, or, in other words, takes law- ful possession of the property. If the mort- gagee allows a dozen years to pass without foreclosing, he must reckon the three years of redemption from the day of foreclosure. In foreclosing, he must make entry upon the property in a peaceable manner, im. thie presence of witnesses, or by an action at law. The mode of procedure is governed by the laws of the several States. When a mortgagor wishes to redeem his property, he must make a formal tender of the debt due, together with interest and all the lawful charges of the mortgagee. He is entitled to such rents or profits as the mort- gagee has actually received, or would have received had he used due diligence in collect- ing them. It is usual for the mortgage to contain an agreement that the mortgagor shall keep the premises insured in a certain sum for the benefit of the mortgagee. Where no such \ stipulation is made, and the mortgagee insures the premises, he cannot recover the cost of the insurance from the mortgagor. Should a mortgagor erect buiidings upon mortgaged land, the mortgagee, on taking possession, becomes the owner of these buildings also. If, however, the mortgagee erects buildings upon lands on which he holds a mortgage, the mortgagor, upon -edeeming the land, becomes the owner of such buildings without paying the mort- gagee for them. Such matters may, and should always, be regulated Fy an agree- ment between the parties. In some of the States .. is usual to release a mortgage by a quit-claim deed from the holder of the mortgage to the holder of the property or of the equity of redemption. Another common practice is for the Register or Recorder of Deeds to write an acknowl. edgment of satisfaction, release, or discharge, on the margin of the record of the mortgage, which must be signed by the mortgagee or holder of the mortgage. Any instrument, or writing which plainly states that the sum or sums due upon such mortgage have been faithfully paid, will constitute a valid release of the mortgage. Such instrument must be duly signed, sealed, and recorded. A release of a mortgage takes effect from the time it is placed in the hands of the Recorder of Deeds, whose duty it is to record in a book kept for that purpose all proper releases of discharges, or satisfactions of this kind. Real Estate Mortgage to Secure Payment of Money. PARTIES NAMED AND DATE ‘1s INDENTURE, Made this nineteenth day of October, in the year of our Lord, between W. H. Harrison, of Urbana, County of Champaign, and State of Illinois, and Helen, 3 his wife, party of the first part, and Robert Fairchild, party of the second part. AMOUNT OF WHEREAS, The said party of the first part is justly indebted to the said party of the second INDEBTEDNESS part, in the sum of Four Thousand dollars, secured to be paid by two certain promissory notes (bearing even date herewith) the one due and payable at the First National Bank at Champaign, Ill., with interest, on the nineteenth day of October, in the year 189 ; the other due and payable at the First National Bank at Champaign, Ill., with interest, on the nineteenth day of October, :GRANT AND CONVEYANCE the better securing the payment of the money a FULL RELEA WVIOLABLE PROVISION A Chattel Mortgage is a mortgage given All upon personal property for the purpose of securing a creditor. Formerly, if the mort- | tion. T 2 Sh ie SS BONDS AND MORTGAGES. Now, THEREFORE, TuIs INDENTURE WITN tenor and effect of the said two promissory notes above m of the further sum of one dollar to them in hand paid byt delivery of these presents, the receipt w sold, and conveyed, and by party of the second p [Describing the premises. | SE To have and to hold the same, together with all privileges, and appurtenances thereunto belon aw as W ell as in equity, which the party of the first part have in and to the premises hereby conveyed St pa unto the said party of the second part, his heirs and assigns, and to their only proper use, benefit, and behoof, And the said W. H. Harrison, and Helen, his wife, party of the first part » hereby expressly waive, relinquis! release, and convey unto the said party of thes By econd part, his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, all right, title, claim, interest, and benefit whatever, in and to the above described premiises, and each and every part thereof, which is given by or results from al! saws of this State pertaining to the exemption of homesteads. PROVIDED ALWAYS, and these presents are upon this express Condition, that if the said party of the first part, their heirs, executors, or administrators, shail well and truly pay, or cause to be paid, to the said party of the second part, his heirs, executors, administrators, or assigns, the aforesaid sums of money, with such interest thereon, at the time and in the manner specified in the above mentioned promissory notes, according to the true intent and meaning thereof, then in that case, these presents and everything herein expressed, shall be absolutely null and void. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the said party of the first part hereunto set their hands and seals the day and year first above written. Signed, sealed and delivered } in presence of OTIS OBER, HELEN HARRISON. [1 S.J ANDREW AUSTIN. W. H. HARRISON. [1.s.] CHATTEL MORTGAGES. It chattel mortgages should contain a clause providing for the equity of redemp- Ihe average period allowed for re- ADS ESSETH, That the said party of the first part, for foresaid, with interest thereon, according to the entioned; and, also, in consideration he said party of the second part, at the hereof is hereby acknowledged, have granted, bargained, these presents do grant, bargain, sell, and convey, unto the said art, his heirs and assigns, forever, all that certain parcel of land, situate, etc. and singular the tenements, hereditaments, ging or in any wise appertaining. And also, all the estate, interest, and claim whatsoever, in | gagor remained in possession of the property, it was doubtful whether the mortgagee heid a valid security. Now, however, in most of the States, the mortgagor may retain the property and the mortgagee is fully secured by recording the mortgage, according to the demption is sixty days. ‘This right may be waived by including in the mortgage a power of sale clause. The mortgagee may transfer the mortgage to another party for a valuable consideration, brt property thus mortgaged cannot be provisions of the statutes of the State in | seized or sold until the period for which the which it is made. MONEY CONSIDERATION mortgage was given has expired. Chattel Mortgage, with Power of Sale. KNOw ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That I, B. B. Beardsley, of the City of Louisville, State of Kentucky, in consideration of five hundred dollars to me paid by Gall Barnum, of the City and State aforesaid, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, do hereby grant, bargain, and sell unto the said Gall Barnum, and his assigns, forever, the following gcods and chat tels, to wit: { Here insert an accurate list of the articles morigaged, giving a full description of each + . Me eres eee a ee eS Cina Se Ome th Ci aa So eS ae > a —_ a eeo ¥ ee pate a eee Se a a Ps sont ae ee a a eg OSE oT te nn tiesto Ce ee er ender aa naps ne Oe EET Meer » - Se eae ee 5 % GRANTOR’S RIGHT WW CASE OF GEFAULT BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. herein, and his assigns, to their sole use and behoof forever. And the mortgagor herein, for himself and for his heirs, executors, and administrators, does hereby covenant to and with the said mortgagee and his assigns, the said mortgagor is lawfully possessed of the said goods and chattels, as of his own property ; that the same are ree from all incumbrances, and that he will warrant and defend the same to him, the said mortgagee and his assigns, against the lawful claims and demaneer of all persons. PROVIDED, NEVERTHELESS, ‘hat if the said mortgagor shall pay to the mortgagee, on the tenth day of May, in the year 189 , the sum of five hundred dollars, then this mortgage is to be To HAVE AND to HOLD, A}l and singular, the s said goods and chattels unto the mortgagee yoid, otherwise to remain in full fore and effect. AND PROVIDED FURTHER, hat until default be made by the said mortgagor in the periorm- ance of the condition afore ssaid, it shall and may be lawful for him to retain the possession of the said goods and chattels, and to use am 1 enjoy the same; but if thesame or any part thereof shall be attached or claimed by any other pe mortgagor, or ally sa or persons whatever, upon any pretence, shall attempt to carry ) yerson or persons at any time before payment, or the said off, race make way with, sell, or in any manner dispose of the same or an y part thereof, without the authority and permission of the said mortgagee, OF his executors, administra or assigns, in writing expres sed, then it shall and may be la ful for the said mortgagee, with or without assistance, or his oe cr attorney, or his executors, administrators, or assigns, to take possession of said goods and chatte whether in thi Spo e or State, or e And if the moneys b4 atte a Vv s, by entering upon any premises wherever the same may be, elsewhere, to aad for the use of said mortgagee or his assigns. the i. to be done or performed, as above specified, ormed at the time and according to the conditions above set forth, then the said mortgagee, or his attorney or agent, or his executors, administrators, or assigns, niay by virtue hereof, without any suit or process, immediately enter and take pos- session of said goods and sede and seli and dispose of the same at public or private sale, and " 14 ee a oe ‘o . . after satisfying the a amount due, and all expenses, the surplus, if any remain, shall be paid over = O + oO os LA 4 wm oO OQ us! ety pt } O ya or © rt pe are not duly paid, done or ae. > to said mortgagor or his assions. The exhibition of this mortgage shall be sufficient proof that any person claiming to a nortgagee is duly made, O De Ft ~* fe h oO a constituted and appointed agent and attorney to do whateve ce above authorized. WrtNness WHEREOF, The said mortgagor has hereunto set his hand and seal this tenth day of May, in the year of our Lord, ; s B. B. BEARDSLEY. [SEAL.J Sealed and delivered in is ence of LLIAM FRYE, i E. 'R. Jounson. J STATH OF KENTUCKY, ) JEFFERSON COUNTY. J SS. ae am «Aa acknoawle a he { This mortgage was acknowledge d before me by B. B. Beardsley, this tenth day of May: - ~ ee: SS & eo r=) vee e 2 JOHN POLK,J ®Rights oN LARGE part of the business 7% civil courts would cease if these who lease property and those who ‘ire it had clear and definite legal forms to follow. ‘These would enable them to come to a perfect, mutual understanding, and pre- vent a vast amount of litigation which now gesults from mere verbal agreements, and a filure of the parties to understand their mutual rights and obligations. A landiord is the owner of real estate whe nires or lets his property to another person for a valuable consideration. ‘The per whe occupies rented property is called the tenant, ‘The agreement between the land- lord and the tenant stating the terms upon which the latter occupies the property is ealled the lease. ‘The person granting the fease is called in iaw the lessor; che person to whom the lease is made is known as the lessee, SO WU Lil Written Leases. Leases should be written. No particular form of words is essential, but the Jease should state in the clearest manner the terms and conditions of the agreement, so that nothing may be left to dispute between the landlord and tenant. The law does not fecognize verbal promises as binding. Therefore the lease must state explicitly ail the covenants between the parties. No matter how bad the condition of a house, the landlord is under no legal obliga- tion to make the necessary repairs unless he cees fit todo so. ‘The lease should therefore contain a clause providing for the necessary | ‘ property. ® repairs. and Duties of Landlc of our } 3 een ETE CR LE IE SE ER TI FE ords and Tenants. Under an ordinary lease, should the house be destroyed by fire the tenant must continue to pay the rent, because the law looks upon the land as the principal thing leased, and merely secondary. the tenant agrees to the house at the order and conditi 2 tear excepted,” he ment to ucla d the house as So also, if “return and redeliver end of the term, in good ion, reasonable wear. and e is bound by this agree- the house should it be destroyed by fire. At present all well- drawn leases provide that the rent shail cease in case the house shall be destroyed or rendereas ee table by fire or any other unavoidable calamity. ANDER BARI r 6 Tibee RAW PHILANDER BARR. [5.6.] Notary Public. - D. S. ALLEN. [1 $.] Lease of Dwelling House for a Term of Years, with a Covenant not te Sub-let. DATE Tus INDENTURE, made this first day of May, , between Meeleg Foster, of Oxford, County of Benton, and State of Alabama, party of the first part, and lam H. Annis, of the ss town, county, and state, party of the second part, BITUATION OF WITNESSETH, That the said patty of the first part, in consideration of the covenants of the PROPERTY said party of the second part, hereinafter set forth, does by these presents lease to che said party of the second part the following described property, to wit: The dwelling house and certain parcel of land, situated on the south side of Main street, between Spring and Elm streets, known as No. 76 Main street. RENTAL AND To have and to hold the samme to the said party of the second part, from the first day of May, PAYMENTS 189 , to the thirtieth day of April, . And the said party of the second part, in consideration of the leasing the premises as above set forth, covenants and agrees with the party of the first part, to pay the said party of the first part, as rent for the same, the sum of one hundred and eighty dollars per annum, payable quarterly in advance, at the residence of said party of the first part, or at his place of business. The said party of the second part further covenants with the party of the first part, that at the expiration of the time mentioned in this lease, peaceable possession of the said premises shall be given to said party of the first part, in as good condition as they now are, the usual wear, in- evitable accidents, and loss by fire, excepted ; and that upon the non-payment of the whole or any portion of the said rent at the time when the same is above promised to be paid, the said party of the first part may, at his election, either distrain for said rent due, or declare this lease at an end, and recover possession as if the same were held by forcible detainer; the said party of the second part hereby waiving any notice of such election, or any demand for the possession of such prenuises. COVENANT NOT And it is further. covenanted and agreed, between the parties aforesaid, that said Elam H. eT Annis shall use the above mentioned dwelling for residence purposes only, and shall not sub-let any portion of the same to others, without permission from said Meeleg Foster. The covenants herein shall extend to and be binding upon the heirs, executors, and admin- istrators of the parties to this lease. Witness the hands and seals of th: warties aforesaid. VACATION OF PROPERTY PENALTIES MEELEG FOSTER. [t.s.] “LAM H. ANNIS, [1 S.3 33 Special a ee a ee SU owe a bs seelawcuateid ee - > Pa nA hnnire 4 a et : occupy said premises 11 aly business deemed extra-hazardous on account of fire or otherwise, nof 4 v4 4 ae ees za . . ave fet or underlet the same, except with the consent of said landlord, in writing, under penalty of re, : ae A ee : in : : forfeiture and darmages. Anddo miortgage and pledge all the personal property of what kind soever which he shall at any time have on said premises, whether exempt by law from distress £ 1 TOTTI Pinter . 4 : a for rent, or sale under execution, or not, waiving the benefits of and from tbe exemption, valuae ae : co "a0 ‘ . ion and appraisement laws of said State to secure the payment thereof. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, He has hereunto set his ha seal this first farci : ‘ is hand and seal this first day of March, a.D a R. ©. LEE. [SHAL.} JOHN DIXIE.) Porg Foss. J©) yh tt es ie RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF LANDLORDS AND TENANTS. Landlord’s Notice to Quit for Non-payment of Rent. STATE OF WEST VIRGINIA, CITY OF WHEELING. f°" September rst, tro RO: LEE: Bee ALLOWED You being in possession of the following described premises, which you occupy as my ten- EOR GAG ATING 2@ut, namely, that certain brick dwelling and lot of ground known as Number 529, in East PREMISES Twentieth street, in the City of Wheeling, County of Ohio, State of West Virginia, aforesaid, are hereby notified to quit and deliver up to me the premises aforesaid, in fourteen days from this date, according to law, your rent being due and unpaid. MHereof fail not, or I shall take a due course of law to eject ou from the same. FREDERICK PASCO. Witness: HENRY COLE. Landlord’s Notice te a Tenant to Quit at the End of the Term. fo R ©. LEE: ee eae CS Roe SS OR SE a eS eT Sa . S ne , Soe ee _ a e on Sir.—Being in the possession of a certain messuage or tenement, with the appurtenancee, eee oN situate in the City of Wheeling, and known as Number 529, in East Twentieth street, in said OF LEASE city, which said premises were demised to you by me fora certain term, to wit, from the frst day of April, A. D. , until the first day of April, A. D. , and which said term will term- inate and expire on the day and year last aforesaid, I hereby give you notice, that it is my desire to have again and re-possess the said messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, and I there: fore do hereby require you to leave the same upon the expiration of the said hereinbefore men- tioned term. _ : Witness my hand this first day of March, City of Wheeling, A. D. FREDERICK PASCO. : Witness: HENRY COLE. Landlord’s Notice te Determine a Tenancy at Will. SratTh OF PENNSYLVANIA, - COUNTY OF CHESTER. j ~ West CHESTER, PA., March Ist, To LEMAN CARR: 7 Sir.—VYou being in possession of the following described premises, which you occupy as ny Bee eves tenant at will, known as Number 565, in Mulberry street, in the town of West Chester, are here ENANCY = : : by notified to quit and deliver up to me the premises aforesaid on the first day of April, 189 , according to law, it being my intention to determine your tenancy at will. Hereof fail not, o2 ee ? : {T shall take a due course of law to eject vou from the same. | H. H. TYRANNIS: Witness: DANIEL LHIPER. -— — Pn ie a ae’ ee a z = Form of a Notice to Quit by a Tenant. CHICAGO, January Ist, ‘ Mr. C. H. HATCHER: - , Please to take notice, that on the first day of March next, I shall quit possession and remove vietceD . kno s house and lot No. 57, in Front street, in the City ‘ s J now occupy, known as hous 57) ®E VACATED from the premises I py of Chicago. one ae. BK. L. TALCOTT. To Mr. C. H. HATCHER.Agencies and Coilection of Debts. = CONSIDERABLE part ofeverykind| Ifa special agent exceeds his authority, % of business is douie through agents, | the principal is not bound by his act, because the individual or the firm employing | the person dealing with such an agent is 2 trusted deputy. This system extends to | bound to inform himself of the extent of nearly all kinds of commercial transactions, | such agent’s powers. In the case Of a and is regulated by laws in all the States. general agent, the principal 1s bound by his An agent is a person who is employed by | acts, even though he exceed his authority, another to represent him in the performance provided that in such acts he does not go of certain acts. beyond the general scope of his business. One who is legally incompetent to act on If, however, the person with whom the his own account may be an agent for a per- | agent deals does so with the knowledge son who is competent. ‘Thus, an alien or a that the agent is exceeding his powers, he matried woman may act as an agent. thereby releases the principal. A principal is responsible for the acts ot Authority may be given to an agent either his agents when he, by his acts or words, verbally or in writing. If in writing, it may causes the person with whom the agent be either under or without seal. If given by deals to believe him to be vested with lawful | a2 written instrument, this instrument is authority to perform such acts. termed a Power of Attorney. A person authorized to perform certain A power of attorney intended to cover designated acts for another is termed a | much time should be recorded and acknowl- special agent; one who has authority to | edged. represent his principal in all his business, The person granting the power of attorney ot all of his business of a particular kind, is termed in lav. the constituent; the person is termed a general agent. i receiving it is called the attorney. Form of Power of Attorney in General Use. se Gary Know ALL MEN By THESE PRESEN?S, That I, Gad Hill, of the city of St. Louis, State ol ‘!¥ Missouri, have constituted, ordained, and made, and in my stead and place put, and by these presents do constitute, ordain, and make, and in my stead and place put Warren North, of the city of Baltimore, State of Maryland, to be my true, sufficient, and lawful attorney for me and in my natue and stead to— [Mere state explicitly the things the attorney ts to do, and the purposes for which the power ts gzven. | ec Giving and hereby granting unto him, the said attorney, full power and authority in and SAANTED about the premises ; and to use all due meaus, course, and process in law, for the full, effectual, and complete execution of the business afore described; and in my name to make and executs due acquittance and discharge; and for the premises to appear, and the person of me the coms stituent to represent before any governor, judges, justices, officers, and ministers of the law what- soever, in any court or courts of judicature, and there, on my behalf, to answer, defend, ané reply unto all actions, causes, matters, and things whatsoever relating toe the premises. A34Da Toe ae a AGENCIES AND COLLECTION OF DEBTS. 435 Also to submit any matter in dispute, respecting the premi PROVISION FoR With full power to make and substitute, for the ARBITRATION him, my said attorney, and the same again at pleasure to revoke. And oe all ah say, do, act, transact, determine, accomplish, and finish all matters and ae whatsoev alata to the premiises, as fully, amply, and ciel to ail intents and purposes, as I, Ga ob Hill, the said nave NOT constituent, if present, ought or might oy, although the ‘matter should require more special authority than is herein comprised, I, Gad Hill, the said constituent, ratifying, allowing, and holding firm and valid ali whatsoever my said attorney or his substitutes shall lawfully do, or cause to be done, in and about the preniises, by virtue of these presents. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this fir st day of May, in the year of our Lord ; . GAD HILL. [SEAL] Hxecuted and delivered in presence of V BiG: NCE, x‘ AARON ek Power of Substitution. Know ALL MEN By THESE PRESENTS, That I, Moses Veale, by virtue of the authority to me given, in and by the letter of atto for it may be described without being annexed |, d power and orney of J. R. Peck, which is hereunto nO d ], do make. substitute, and appoint- Ralph Barnar Ka d, as well for me as the true and lawful attorney and substitute of the said constituent ‘hamed in the said letter of attorney, to do, execute, and perform all anc everything requisite and necessary te be done, as fully, to all intents and Due as the said constituent or I myself could do if per- sonally present; hereby ratifying and confirming ail that the said attorney and substitute hereby made shall do in the premises by virtue hereof and of the said letter of attorney. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and seal the fifteenth day of A. D. : May MOSES VEALE. [SEAL] Sealed and delivered in presence 03 ROBERT SHERMAN, Puoino A. CROWE. ?7 Proxy, or Pewer of Attorney to Vote. POWER TO VOTE Know ALL MEN pv THESE PRESENTS, That I, Walter Black, of Omaha, do hereby appoint _ i. Reed to be my substitute and proxy for me, and in my name and behalf to vote at any Ee ition of directors or other officers, and at any meeting of the stockholders of the Baltimore & Ohio Raiiroad, as fully as I might or could were I personally present. IN WYtNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this fifth day of February, WALTER BLACK. [SEAL] Witnesses present, Power of Attorney to Collect Debts. SAWEUL Know ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, That I, John } , of Pittsburgh, Pennsvlvania, have ATTORNEY constituted, ordained, and made, and in my stead and plac = put and by these presents do con- stitute, ordain, and make, and in my stead and place pu ut, Peter Lex, of Harrisburgh, Pennsyi- vania, to be my true, sufficient, and lawful attorney for me, ae in my name and stead, and te my use, to ask, demand, levy, require, recover, and receive of ee from all and every person o% persons whomsoever the same shall or may concern, all and singular sum and sums of ao debts, goods, wares, mercha ndise, effects, and things, whatsoever and wheresoever they sha nar t eS constituent, Dy am: nd may be found due , owing, payable, belonging and coming unto me the co ent, Dy any ways and means wiat tsoever. purposes afores aid, ¢ ofe or more attorneys undex 2 pa sShabbawe eS ~_ = ee SN Se ee a | ee eC Ce ee ee tL li SN436 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. GIVING AND HEREBY GRA Bored authority in and about the premises; au in my name to make, seal, ande appear, and the person of me the constituent to repres officers and ministers of the law whatsoever, in any cou my behalf, to answer, defend, and reply unto relating to the premises. Also to submit any matter in dispute SISPUTES TO BE 44 gubstitute one or more attorneys and @RAATRATED . and things whatsoever, and purposes, as I the said constituent, matter should require m ratifying, allowing, and holding firm and vali substitutes shall lawfully do, or cause to be done, presents. the law, for the obtaining and recovering the same ; xecute due acquittance and discharge; and for the premises to revoke. And generally to say, do, act, transact, determine, relating to the premises, as fully, amply, and effectually, to all intents NTING unto my said attorney fall and whole strength, power, and d to take and use all due meats, course, and process in nd of recoveries and receipts thereof, and ent before any governor, judges, justices, rt or courts of judicature, and there, on all actions, causes, matters and things whatsoever, to arbitration or otherwise, with full power to make my said attorney, and the same again at pleasure to accomplish, and finish, all matters ie > 3 if present, ought or might personally, although the nore special authority than is herein comprised, I the said constituent id, all and whatsoever my said attorney cr his in and about the premises, by virtue of these In WrtneEss WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this first day of January, ir the year of our Lord : JOHN JAY. [sear] Signed, sealed, and delivered in presence of us, LEANDER PRICE, }{ Myron A. SILL. + COLLECTION OF DEBTS. It often happens that great difficulty is experienced in the effort to collect debts justly due. Where they can be collected without resorting to legal measutes, it is bet- ter to exhaust all means of securing them, even though a moderate delay should result. Should it become necessary to seek the aid of the law, however, it is well to know the exact steps that should be taken. In seeking to recover debts by legal pro- | cess, the creditor should first ascertain whe- | ther the debtor has enough property, real or | personal, or both, over and above the amouuit | exempted by law, to make it worth his while to sue him. | Suits for small amounts must be brought before justices of the peace. Should the amount be within the juris- diction of the justice of the peace, the cred- itor’s first step is to place the claim in his hands for collection. Obtaining a Summons. In some of the States a debtor must be sued in the town in which he resides, and nowhere else. In others, the law grants the creditor a larger latitude. It is not possible to state here the Jaws of the various States upon this subject. The justice before whom the suit is brought will give the information. Upon receiving a claim for collection, the justice will issue a summons to the debtor, commanding him to appear at his court, at a stated time, and answer to the claim. The summons is placed in the hands of a con- stable, who delivers it to or “serves it upon” the person owing the debt. If he cannot find him, or if the debtor hides himself to avoid such service, the constable will deliver the summons to some inember of the deb- tor’s family, who must be ten years old, or over that age. He must then make a report to the justice, stating to whom he delivered the sttmmons, and the circumstances con. nected with the service. Settlement without Trial. Should the debtor wish to settle the claim without a trial, he may do so, the justice giving him a receipt for the amount of theAGENCIES AND COLLECTION OF DEBTS. 437 claim and the costs of the service of the sum- | seventy days in which to levy upon and sell mons. ‘This ends the matter, and prevents all further costs. Should the debtor decide to let the matte proceed to a trial, the creditor must prove his claim. Should such proof be made, the iustice will declare a judgment in favor of Ji the creditor. ‘This is his official statement that the claim has been proven just, and that the debtor must pay it, together with the in- terest and costs allowed by law. Should the creditor fail to prove his claim, the jus- tice will dismiss the suit, and the creditor must pay the costs. Either party in a trial before a justice of the peace may demand a jury, and the justice is bound to grant the demand upon the de- posit with him of the jury fees by the party making the demand. ‘The jury may consist of either six or twelve men. The justice, upon such demand being made, will issue a writ to the constable to summon the proper number from the citizens of the place, who are competent to serve as jurors. Should the defendant fail to appear before the justice within the time named in the summons, and no good reason be offered for his absence, the justice will dismiss the suit unless the plaintiff demands a trial, then and there, or at some other time. Issuing Execution. Should a demand be made to proceed to immediate trial, the justice will hear the ease, and should the claim be proved, will enter a judgment against the defendant, and will issue an execution for its collection. An execution is a writ addressed to the constable, directing him to carry into effect the decision of the court. It generally di- rects him to seize and sell such property of the defendant, not exempt by law, as will satisfy the claim and the costs of the suit. As a general rule the constable has about the property. Should the plaintiff feel satis. fied that Zis claim will be endangered unless r | the goods are seized at once, he may make oath to that effect, and the justice will direct , the constable to make the levy at once. Ag a general rule, the constable cannot sell the , | goods under twenty days from the time of seizure. Levy on Property. When a levy is made upon his property, the defendant may claim all the exemptions. This may be determined by two appraisers, oue appointed by the defendant, and one by ‘ the constable, or the constable himself may act in this capacity. When an execution is placed in the hands of the constable, he will proceed to the place where the property is located, and take pos« session of it. He will advertise the property for sale at least ten days before the date of the sale, by causing written or printed notices of the sale to be posted up in three prominent places in the town or neighborhood. At the appointed time, the constable will sell the property at auction to the highest bidder. Arrest of Debtor. In some of the States, when an attach- ment has been issued and placed in the hands of the constable, and he returns that he cannot find any property belonging te the defendant, and the plaintiff has reason te think that the defendant is concealing, or assigning or removing his property with a view to avoid payment, it is the practice ta issue a Capzas for the arrest of the debtor. This is a very delicate proceeding, and is only resorted to in extreme cases. Before issuing the capias the justice will require of the plaintiff or his attorney a bond with good secutity, binding the plaintiff and his indorser to pay all damages and costs, if any, which may be wrongfully occasioned ER A Sas We By EN Ser ES OR he SS seecancuintoe d= UN a - Ye eek arreaeRAT —) . + may be called upon to reduce the same to writing, and hand it in at the table, from which it shall be read thrice, open to the society for debate. TT - 1 es j RULE 30.—The mover of a motion shall be at liberty to acce ny : i ccept any amendment thereto; but if an amende ment be offered and not accepted, yet duly seconded Te ‘ ae ° . z, : the society shall pass upon it before voting upon the original motion. RULE 31.—Every officer, on leaving his office, shall give to his successor all papers, documents, books and money belonging to the society. RULE 32.—No smoking, and no refreshments, excep water, shall be allowed in the society’s hall. RULE 33.—When a motion to adjourn is carried, ne member shall leave his seat until the President has left his chair. } RULE 34.—No alteration can be made in these rules of order withont a four-fifth vote of the society, and two weeks’ notice; neither can they be suspended but by a like vote, and then for the evening only. h Subjects for Discussion. 1G oa ° Which would be of greater benefit to the country, a protective tariff, or a tariff for revenue only ? 2. Ought laws to be enacted for restricting foreign im- migration ? o 3. Does more evil than benefit result from laws per mitting divorce ? 4. Prohibition, or High License—which ? Which was the greater Orator, Demosthenes or Cicero ? NovtKr.—The discussion of this question must include references to style, aim and effect; artistical, mental and moral power. 6. Which is the more despicable character, the Hypo- rite or the Liar? 7. Has the Fear of Punishment, or the Hope of Re< ward, the greater influence on Human Conduct ? Notye.—This question involves considerations of great importance. It has do do with Education, Goy- erninent, and Religion. The fear of punishment is the principle usually supposed to influence us; and upon this principle, for the niost part, education, laws, and religious instruction are founded: but many of the wisest men are beginning to doubt this system. 8. Is Corporal Punishment justifiable ? 9. Was Brutus justified in killing Cesar? NotEr.—This question must be tried by the morals of the time when the act took place and not by the present standard of morality. It is quite necessary te make this distinctior ae a Oe SS ae es ee ee CN be r| ry ze ¢ a : m | a pena RSET SPW MS EBD DDP Toone rs pA eee Pee Vert ty eg te et CG cs teen ald s 7 - Oe vsBhd LDA ae ha aad Maan oo a a Oe na ae AIP a aN ra ke oe ao e fi | & b ‘ 4 a f ; # Fr € Q FS 448 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. 29. Should Emulation be encouraged in Education ? Note.—The system of prize-giving in education has supporters and opponents, both so determined, that a Ziscussion upon the subject cannot fail to be interest- ing and instructive. Philosophy and experience should both be referred to in the debate. rz, Which was the greater Post, Milton or Homer? Note.—This debate will-turn upon the facts that Homer is the more real, life-like, and human poet, whilst Milton is the more imaginative, sublime and spiritual; the decision must depend upon which are the nobler qualities. x2. Is Military Renown a fit Object of Ambition ? 13. 1s Ambition & Vice ox a Virtue? 14, Has Novel-reading a Moral Tendency * Nove.—it say seem that this question barely ad mits of disenssion, for moral novels must, of course, have a moral tendency; but at least the debate may serve to lead the debaters to a proper selection of novels. Is the Character of Queen Elizabeth deserving of our Admiration ? 16. Is England rising or falling as a Nation? Nots.—Compare the Hlements of Modern with the Blements of Ancient Prosperity. x7, Has Nature or Education the greater Influence in the Formation of Character ? 18. Which is the more valuable Metal, Gold or Iron ? Nore.—This is a question between Show and Value— between ornament and utility. 1g. Is War in any case justifiable ? g0. Has the Discovery of America been beneficial to the World? ax. Can any Circumstances justify a Departure from Truth ? 22. Are Sports Justifiable ? 23. Does not Virtue necessarily produce Happiiess, and does not Vice necessarily produce Misery in this Life ? a4. From which does the Mind gain the more Knowl- edge, Reacing or Observation ? rs. 25. Have our Gold Mines, or ourCoal Mines, been more beneficial to the country ? 26. Which was the greater General, Hannibal or Alex- ander ? a7. Which was the greator Poet, Dryden or Pope? 28. Which has done the greater Service to Truth, Philosophy or Poetry ? NovtEe.—Philosophy is here meant to signify intel- lectual wisdom; and poetry, that inspiration respect- ing truth which great poets exhibit, and which seems to be quite independent of acauired knowledge. Philo- sophy is cultivated reason, poetry is a moral instinct i SS + toward the True and Reautiful. To decide the question we must see what we owe on the one hand to the dis coveries of our philosophers, to Socrates, Plato, Epi- curus, Bacon, Newton, Locke; and on the other, for what amount and sort of truth we are indebted to the intuition and inspiration of our poets, as Homer, Mil. ton, Dante, Shakespeare. 29. Is an Advocate justified in defending a man whom he knows to be Guilty of the Crime with which he is charged ? 30. Is it likely that England will sink into the Decay which befell the Nations of Antiquity ? 31, Are Lord Byron’s Writings Moral in their Tend- ency? Norse.—The works of Byron must here be looked atias a whole, and not be judged by isolated passages 3 they must be tried, too, by eternal, and not by fashion- able, morality. 32. Do the Mechanicians of Modern equal those of An- cient Times? 33. Whicn is the greater Civilizer, the Statesman oF the Poet ? 34. Which was the greater Writer, Charles Dickens 0% Lord Lytton? 35. Is the Principle of Utility a Safe Moral Guide ? 36. Was the Deposition of Louis XVI. justifiable? 37. Is the use of Oaths for Civil Purposes Expedient ? 38- Is a Classical Education essential to an Americay Gentleman ? 39. Are Colonies advantageous to the Mother Country ? 40. Which does the most to produce Crime—Poverty, Wealth, or Ignorance ? 41. Is the Unanimity required from Juries conducive to the Attainment of the Ends of Justice ? 42. Is it not the duty ofa Government to Establish a System of National Education 3 43. Are the Intellectual Faculties of the Dark Races of Mankind essentially inferior to those of the White? 44. Is Solitary Confinement an effective Punishment? Note.—This discussion should include the value of Solitary Confinement as a punishment, and its reform- atory effects on the criminal. 45. Should not all Punishment be Reformatory ? 46. Is a Limited Monarchy, like that of England, the best form of Government ? 47. Is not Private Virtue essentially requisite to Great: ness of Public Character ? 48. Is Eloquence a Gift of Nature, or may it be ac quired ? 49. Is Genius an innate Capacity ? 50, Isa rude or a refined Age the more favorable fe the Production of Works of Imagination ?g1, Is the Shakspearian the Augustan Age of English Literature ? 52. Is there any Standard of Taste? 53. Ought Pope to rank in the First Class of Poets? 54. Has the Introduction of Machinery been generally beneficial to Mankind ? 55. Which produce the greater Happiness, the Pleasures of Hope or of Memory? 56. Is the Existence of Parties in a State favorable to the Public Welfare ? 57. Is there any Ground for believing in the ultimate Perfection and universal Happiness of the Human Race ? 58. Is Co-operation more adapted to promote the Virtue and Happiness of Mankind than Competition ? 59. Was the Banishment of Napoleon to St. Helena a justifiable Proceeding ? 60, Ought Persons to be excluded from the Civil Offices on account of their Religious Opinions ? Gr, Which exercises the greater Influence on the Civil- ization and Happiness of the Human Race, the Male or the Female Mind ? 62, Which did the most to produce the French R tvolu- lution, the Tyranny of the Government, the ex- cesses of the Higher Orders, or the Writings of Vol- taire, Montesquieu and Rousseau ? 53. Which was the greater Poet, Byron or Burns ? 54. Is there reasonable Ground for believing that the Character of Richard the Third was not so atrocious as is generally supposed ? 65. Does Happiness or Misery preponderate in Life ? 66. Should the Press be totally Free ? 67. Do modern Geological Discoveries agree with Holy Writ? 68, Did Circumstances justify the first French Revolu- tion ? 69. Could not Arbitration be made a Substitute for War? 70. Which Character is the more to be admired, that of Loyola or Luther ? 71. Are there good Grounds for applying the Term ‘dark’? to the Middle Ages ? 72. Which was the greater Poet, Chatterton or Cowper ? 73. Are Public or Private Schools to be preferred ? 44. Is the System of Education pursued at our Univer- sities in accorda/ace with the Requirements of the FORM OF CONS\1TUTION FOR LYCEUMS. 449 75. Was the Decline of Slavery in Europe witributabe to moral or economical Influences ? 76. Is anger a Vice or a Virtue? 77- Which was the greatest Hero, Alexander, Cesar, oF Bonaparte ? 78, Which was the worse Monarch, Richard the Third or Charles the Second ? 79. Which was the greater man, Franklin or Wash- ington ? &> Is it true that America is the greatest of Natious ? - Should not greater Freedom of expression be encour- aged in debate ? 2, Which was the greater Poet, Chaucer or Spenser ? 83. Is the present a Poetical Age ? 84. Was Louis XIV, a great man? 85. Is it the Duty of a Government to make ample Provision for the Authors of the Nation ? 86. Wuich is the greater Poet, Mrs. Howitt or Mrs. Hemans ? 87. Should not all National Works of Art be entirely free to the Public ? 88. Are the Rudiments of individual Character discern- ible in Childhood ? 89. Is Satire highly useful as a Moral Agent ? go. Has the Faculty of Humor been of essential Service to Civilization ? gi. Is it to Emigration that England must mainly look for the Relief of her population ? 92. Does National Character descend from age to age? 93. Do the Associations entitled ‘‘Art Unions’’ tend te promote the spread of the Fine Arts ? 94. Isit possible that the World will ever again pos- sess a Writer as great as Shakspeare ? 95. Is the cheap Literature of the Age on the whole beneficial to general Morality ? 96. Should Practice in Athletic Games form a Part of every System of Education ? 97. Is the Game of Chess a good Intellectual and Moral Exercise ? 98. Have Mechanics’ Institutions answered the Expec- tations of their founders ? 99. Which is to be preferred, a Town or a Country Lifev 100. Which was the greater Poet, Wordsworth or! Byron ? 101. Which is the more baneful, Skepticism or Super- stition ? 102. Is the average Duration of Human Life incrsasing Age? 2G | or diminishing ? eS cS Cine te eC tt Ce eS he a ee ta nd a ae eo eS ers ate aot Ye NA 2350 ~. moet es pr ADP MEE a Geese ery IGA. ae ee s: ea Se et d aCHAPTER XI. Parliamentary Rules and Usages. SPIT following are the complete rules, in a plain and compact form, for conducting a public meeting: Quorum. A quorum is a sufficient number of the members of an association to legally transact business. Unless a qtiorum is present no business is in order, except to adjourn. A majority of the members constitutes a natural quorum, but the by-laws of the association may prescribe a smaller number. The Chairman. I. is the duty of the chairman to open the meeting at the time fixed upon, by taking the chair, calling the house to order, to announce the business before the house in the order in which it is to be acted upon; to receive and submit all motions; to put to vote all questions which are regularly moved, or which necessarily arise in the course of proceedings, and to announce the result; to restrain every one, when engaged in debate, within the rules of order; to enforce the observance of order and decorum; to appoint committees; to authenticate by his signa- ture, when necessary, all the acts and pro- ceedings of the house, and generally to declare its will. He may speak to points of order in pre- ference to others; shall decide all questions of order, and if the house is evenly divided he may give the casting vote, in doing which he may, if he pleases, give his reasons. Phe Clerk. It is the duty of the clerk or secretary to Keep correct minutes of the proceedings of G5O : the house; to read all papers when ordered, and for this purpose he should always rises to call the roll, and state the answer when a vote is taken by yeas and nays; to have the custody of all papers and documents, and to authenticate the acts and proceedings of he house by his signature. Committees. Standing comunittees sit perimanently ; special committees perform only some pat ticular duty, when they are discharged. The person first-named is usually regarded as chairman, but this is only a matter of courtesy; every committee has a right to select its own chairman, Custom, howevet, has practically taken away this right, and it is considered bad form to elect any othet person than the first-named as chairman, The mover of a motion to commit, should be placed on the committee and first-named, except where the matter committed con- cerns him personally. In the appointment of the committee no person directly opposed to the measure committed should be named, and when any person who is thus opposed to same, hears himself named of its com: mittee he should ask to be excused. The chair appoints all committees. Comme mittees do not adjourn, but, when they have concluded their deliberations, should rise and report. ‘Ihe report should be presented by the chairman. When the report is received the committee is dissolved and cannot act further without new power. Any committee required or entitled te report upon a subject referred to them may make a majority and minority report, while 4 xPARLIAMENTARY RULES AND USAGES. any member of such committee dissenting in whole or in part, from either the conclu- sion or the reasoning of both the majority and minority, may also present a statement of his reasons for such dissent, which should be received in connection with the reports. The committee of the whole is an expe- dient to simplify the business of legislative bodies. No record is made of its proceed- ings. ‘The presiding officer puts the ques- tion, and, if same is carried, appoints some person as chairman and then vacates the chair. Motions. Propositions made to a deliberative assem- bly are called motzons ; when the proposition is put to vote it 1s called the question. A motion cannot be entertained or the question put, until the same has been seconded. After this it becomes the property of the house, and cannot be withdrawn except by ‘eave. It must be in writing-whenever the house or presiding officer require it, and must be read when any person demands it for information. Peameexeepion to the rule requiring a second to a motion is made in cases when the proposition is to proceed with or to execute an order of the house; as where it is moved to proceed with an order of the day, or where a call is made for the enforce- ment of some oxder relating to the observ- ance of decorum. No motion can be made while a speaker has the floor, nor while another motion 1s pending, except it be a question of privilege. Amendments. A motion may be amended by imserting or adding words, or by striking out words, or by striking out and inserting words. An amendment takes precedence of the original re | decided before the amendment, A motion may be made to amend, after which a mo< tion will be to amend the amendment, but this is the full limit of the rule by which one motion may be put upon another. A mo- tion to amend the second amendment is not in order. Questions of privilege cannot be amended, except that a motion to postpone can be amended as to time. The Question. The question is first to be put on the afirmative and then on the negative side: the vote in most cases being by oral response. If there are doubts as to the voice of the majority, any one may call for a division. In all cases where the house is equally divided the question is lost, unless the pre- siding officer affirms it by a casting vote. When a division is had, those in the affirm- ative on the question should first rise and be counted, or, if there still be a doubt, or a count be called for, the chairman should ap- point two tellers, one from each side, to make the count and report the same to the chair- man, who should then declare the same to the house. In small matters of routine business or trif ling importance, such as receiving reports, withdrawing motions, ete, the presiding officer may suppose the consent of the house where ‘no objection is expressed, and need not give them the trouble of putting the question formally. A question should always be stated by the chair before it is put, after which it is open to debate. Questions may be stated hy the chair while sitting, but he should always rise to put a question, and should use substan- tially this form: “As many as are of the opinion that (as the question may be) will question and must be first decided. So, too, say aye;” and after the affirmative voice is an amendment to an amendment must be | expressed, “As many as are of a contrary - ae RT Citra se eet a ee ee RK Neth S58 MRS er EOS Bo NSN Se ON RN Re late - "SL 452 epinion, will say no.” He declares the vote. After a question has been put it is not debatable, but after the affirmative is put. any person who has not spoken before to aegative is put. Division of Question. Any person may call for the division of a question if it comprehend propositions, in substance so distinct, that, one being taken away, a substantive proposition shall remain for decision. When a question is divided, after the ques- tion on the first part, the second is open to debate and amendment. Privileged Questions. When a question is under debate, no motion shall be received, except to adjourn ; to lay on the table; for the previous ques- tion; to postpone to a certain day; to commit; to amend; to postpone indefinitely. ‘Shese motions have precedence in the order ‘n which they stand arranged, and are called privileged questions. A motion to adjourn is always in order and takes precedence of all other motions, and an order of the day takes the place of all questions except adjournment. When a matter has been laid on the table it may be taken up at any time afterward and considered, but not at the same meeting Pio at which it was tabled. Hre- quently this motion is made to finally dis- pose of the matter, and it always has this effect when no motion is afterward made to take it up. ‘The proper motion for proceed- ing with a matter that has been ordered to lie on the table, is, that the house do now proceed to consider that matter, although it would be proper to move that the matter be taken up for consideration. "here are several questions which, being incidental to every one, will take the place ‘ eS BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. of every one, privileged or not; as, a ques tion of order arising out of any other ques- tion must be decided before that question. A motion for indefinite postponement is the question may rise and speak before the | generally resorted to in order to suppress a question or prevent its coming to vote. Previous Question. When any question is before the house any member may move that the question (called the main question) be now put, or, as it is ustially termed, may move the previous question. If it pass in the affirmative, then the main question is to be put immediately, and no further debate is permitted. The previous question being moved and seconded, the question from the chair should be, “Shall the main question be now put?” If the nays prevail the main question remains as the question before the house, in the same stage of proceedings as before the previous question was moved. Equivalent Questions. Where questions are perfectly equivalent, so that the negative of the one amounts to the affirmative of the other, and leaves no other alternative, the decision of the one necessarily concludes the other. ‘Thus thr negative of striking out amounts tO the affirmative of agreeing; and, therefore, & put a question on agreeing after that ot striking out, would be to put the same question in effect twice over. Questions of Order. It is the duty of the chairman to decide all questions of order whenever raised. Upon such questions no debate or discussion is in order, but if the decision is not satisfactory any one may object to it and appeal to the house. On appeal being taken, the question should be: “Shall the decision of the chai stand as the judgment of the house?” Where-PARLIAMENTARY tijun the question may be debated and dis cussed the same as any other question. Commitment. Any measure may be referred to a com- mittee on motion. This motion stands in th: same degree with the previous question and postponement, and, if first made, takes precedence of them. A motion to commit may be amended by the substitution of one kind of committee for another, or by en- larging or diminishing the number of the members of the committee, as originally pro- posed, or by instructions to the committee. After a measure has been committed and reported, it should not, in an ordinary course, be recommitted, but in cases of importance, and for special reasons, it is sometimes re- committed, and usually to the same com- mittee. Reconsideration. When a motion or question shall have been determined, either in the affirmative or negative, it is always in order for any one who voted with the majority, or in case the vote was equally divided, for one who voted in the negative, to move for a reconsideration thereof. Such motion must be made at the same meeting at which the former vote was taken. A motion to reconsider, being put and lost, cannot be renewed. eee ee Se RULES AND USAGES. 453 A person who is indisposed may be i ndulged to speak sitting. When a person rises to speak, no question is to be put, but he is to be heard undisturbed, unless overruled. If two or more rise to speak nearly together, the chair determines who was first up and calls him by name, whereupon he proceeds, unless he voluntarily sits down and yields the floor to the other. No one may speak more than twice to the same question without the consent of the house, except merely to explain himself in some material part of his speech, or to the manner of the words in question, keeping himself to that only and not going into the merits of it. If the chairman rises to speak, the person standing must sit down, that the chair may be first heard. No one is to speak impertinently, or beside the question, or to use indecent language against the proceedings of the house. Nor should a person in speaking, mention another then present, by his name, but should de- scribe him by his seat, or as “the gentleman who spoke last,” or, “on the other side of the question,” etc. Any one when called to order by another or by the chair, must sit down, and not pro- Undebatable Motions. A motion to adjourn; to lay on the table, aud a call for the previous question, must be decided without debate. And all incidental questions of order, arising after a motion is made for either of the foregoing questions, must be decided, whether on appeal or other- Wise, without debate. Order in Debate. When a person means to speak, he is to stand up in his place, uncovered, and address himself to the chair, who calls him by name, that all may take notice who it is that speaks. ceed without leave until the question of order shall have been decided by the chair. While the presiding officer is addressing the house or putting a question, no one should cross the floor or leave the room; nor while another is speaking, walk between him and the chair. Adjournment. A motion to adjourn is not susceptible of amendment. If it is desirable to adjourn to any particular place or time, this may be accomplished by a previous resolution te that effect, Tere ee EEid BK De BE ae Se eee Po A Se ea ae ee eee oe es Ce ee TSS Se Sf}x & sf F * é i 3 i « * 2 : Pir wa* ——s ee re at oe AA ee a a OR WE POLL ao ES es ee ee a a oe Mis, Sh Siete ne CHAPTER XLI. Forms for Resolutions and Petitions. WRITTEN resolution is a formal and deliberate mode of expressing the opinions and sentiments of a society, club, or public assemblage. Resolutions should be written tersely and with great clearness. No unnecessary words should be used; nor should there be any ambitious attempts at fine writing. The writer of the resolutions should state exactly % lutions by a preamble. This may bé omitteé at the discretion of the writer. Where a pre amble is used, it should set forth the cause of the resolutions which are to follow. It should always begin with the word “Where- as, > The resolutions follow immediately after the preamble, each one beginning with the word ‘* Resolved.” ° , toes es -ac ‘ etgt e: 4 TY L what he means; nothing more nor less. We give a few resolutions as specimens 101 ° : Sacre Bee La +a. 1° it is customary to preface a series of reso- the guidance of the reader. RESOLUTIONS OF CONDOLENCE ON THE DEATH OF ® FREE MASON HEMONSTRANCE AGAINST A RUISANCE IN @ SITY 454 At a regular communication of St. John’s Lodge, No. 210, A. EF. and A. M., held March 24th, 189 , the following preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted: WHEREAS, It has pleased the Supreme Architect of the Universe to remove from our midst our late brother, Thomas W. Johnston; and, WHEREAS, The intimate relations long held by our deceased brother with the members of this Lodge render it proper that we should place on record our appreciation of his services ag e Mason, and his merits asa man: therefore be it Resolved, By St. John Lodge, No. 210, on the registry of the Grand Lodge of Maryland, of Ancient, Free and Accepted Masons, that, while we bow with humble submission to the will of The Most High, we do not the less mourn for our brother who has been called from his labor to rest. Resolved, That in the death of Thomas W. Johnston this Lodge loses a brother who was al- ways active and zealous in his work as a Mason; ever ready to succor the needy and distressed of the fraternity ; prompt to advance the interests of the Order ; devoted to its welfare and pros- perity ; one who was wise in counsel and fearless in action ; an honest and upright man, whose virtues endeared him not only to his brethren of the Order, but to all of his fellow-citizens. Resolved, That this Lodge tenders its heartfelt sympathy to the family and relati,2s of our deceased brother in this their sad affliction. Resolved, That the members of this Lodge will attend the body of our deceased brother to the grave in full regalia, to pay the last honors to his remains. Resolved, That these resolutions be entered upon the Minutes of this Lodge, and that a copy of them be sent to the family of our deceased brother. Resolved, That the continuance of the slaughter-house of Messrs. Green and White, in the midst of a densely populated neighborhood, is an intolerable nuisance, which is incompatible with the health and comfort of those who reside in its vicinity. Resolved, That a committee of three be appointed by the chair, whose duty it shall be to ap- prise the proper authorities of the existence and nature of the nuisance; and in case such action shall not produce its abatement, then to employ counsel, and take such other legal steps as the case may require.“WE hie tie FORMS FOR RESOLUTIONS AND PETITIONS, WHEREAS, The evil of intemperance is steadily increasing among us, and many who might RESOLUTIONS Otherwise become good and usefu | citizens are falling victims to this terrible curse: and ADOPTED BY A WHEREAS, One reat caus nee ie > ’ TEMPERANCE § se of this increase MEETING regard of the laws respecting the sale of intoxic bar-rooims and saloons of this place, who continue the sale of such liquors after the hour of mid- night and on Sundays, although forbidden by law to do so; therefore be it Resolved, That a committee of five be a this violation of the iaw; city at its next meeting. 455 .of drunkenness is, in our opinion, the open dis ating beverages on the part of the keepers of the ppointed by this meeting to investigate the extent of and to lay the result of their labor before the Common Council of this : Resolved, That we call upon the mayor, aldermen, and the police force of this city, to ens force the law relating to the sale of liquors; and we hereby remind them that the people of this city will hold them responsible for allowing the ordinances regulating the -ale of liquors to be violated by the keepers of saloons. Resolved, That the thanks of the passengers are hereby tendered to the capt in and THANKS TO THE Loe J pta officers OFFICERS OF A of the ship (ere znsert name), for the cool, dexterous, and efficient manner in which they per- SHIP FOR THEIR formed the duties appertaining to each; to the crew for their prompt obedience to orders, and to CONDUCT DURINGall concerned for their earnest endeavors to promote the safe AN EMERGENCY charge, during the perilous storm, fr been safely delivered. ty of the passengers under their om which, owing to the goodness of Providence, we have Resolved, That the foregoing resolutions, signed by the passengers, be transmitted to the owners of the ship, an a copy be furnished to the public journals, with the request for their publication. Resolved, That the thanks of this convention are hereby given to the president, for the able THANKS TOTHE .. _.. 4: : OFFICERS OFA USiguified, and impartial manner in which he has presided over its deliberations, and to the other CONVENTION officers for the satisfactory manner in which they have fulfilled the duties assigned to them. [Sech @ resolution as the above must be offered at the close of the convention. The member offering wt must put the question, and announce the result—the resolution being personal to the presiding officer. | RESOLUTIONS ON WHEREAS, The Reverend Boanerges Drumm, D.D., has been, in the providence of God, THE DEPARTURE called to labor in another part of Christ’s vineyard, and has in consequence thereof tendered hig OF ACLERGYMAN : : : : resignation of the rectorship of this parish; and, WHEREAS, We recognize a Divine influence in the circumstances which have induced our beloved pastor to sever the ties which have connected him with this church and its people, therefore, be it Resolved, That the resignation of the Rectorship of St. Andrew’s Parish, in the city of Rich. mond, by the Rey. Boanerges Drumm, D.D., be, and hereby is, accepted, to take effect on the first day of May next. Resolved, That the Rey. Doctor Boanerges Drumm has, by courtesy and kindness, by purity of life and doctrine, and by the faithful discharge of the duties pertaining to his holy office, secured the love and confidence of his people, which will follow and be with him in his new field of labor. hesolved, ‘That, while Rey. Dr. Boanerges Drumm/’s connection with this parish will close, agreeably to his wishes, on the first day of May next, his salary will continue until the last day of June next. WHEREAS, From the situation of this town, the general road law of the State is partly in- RESOLUTIONS of 2PPlicable to us, and highly inefficient, and the circumstances of the case require a specific law, INSTRUCTIGN 79 therefore, eee THE Be it resolved, by the people of the town of Hempstead, in town meeting assembled, That the Senators and Representatives of this district in the Legislature, be, and hereby are, instructed to procun the passage of a law exempting this town from the action of the general road law, and placing the working and repair of tne roads entirely under the control of the local authorities, ‘ses ; y : Ra 6 ee ee en aS > - - ee ee a ee ee hf an So SNS Pe ee “shat Bobs. Rcaesa uated ee r ef 4 = - ra eo - | | *% 1 aa | oy d | st si wa | A, P 4 A a 4 i 7 a ° S | "ah - Dee 9 a i Bs | is S ; K + Ri e rat a—— LULU i te tnd sedate andl ahaa 456 BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. PETITIONS. A Petition is a memorial or request ad- | dressed by the signers of the paper to some one in authority over them, praying that the request set forth in the paper may be granted. A petition may De either in favor of a measure or against it. In the latter case it is termed a Remonstrance. In this country the persons to whom petitions are usually ad- dressed are the President of the United States, the Congress of the United States, Governors of States, the Legislatures of the several States, and the Mayors of cities. jetimes addressed to the Petitions are son various courts on other than purely legal matters. A petition should always commence with he name and title of the person to whom it If to the President, or to the ‘s addressed. of the States of the Governor of any Union, with the sole exception ol the State of Massachusetts, the title, “Your Excel- lency,” or “His Excellency,” should not be used. ‘The Governor of Massachusetts only is entitled to be addressed as “Your,” or “His Excellency.” When to Congress, the petition should begin, “To the Congress of the United States.” When to a Legislature, “To the Legislature,” of ‘To the General: Assembly,” as may be the custom in the Siate When a petition is addressed to a court, it ‘5 usual to accompany it with an affidavit setting forth that the facts stated in the peti- tion are known to the signers to be true. Such affidavit, of course, must be made by the petitioners. We give below several forms of petitions for the benefit of persons requiring them; To JoHN LEE CARROLL, ESQ., Governor of the State of Maryland: The Petition of the undersigned citizens of Maryland respectfully represents ¢ tatTITION TO THE GOVERNOR, ASKING FOR THE PARDON GF A SONVICT the evidence upon which he was convic vious to that time the said Brown had maintained the reputation altoyether conclusive; that pre of being a peaceable and upright man, ng to the letter of the Warden, which is herewith submitted, has been mitment to prison, accordi most exemplary. the said Brown has a family who That on the twenty-fifth day of March, 189 , Thomas convicted before the Criminal Court in sai therefor to the State prison at Baltimore, w Brown, of the city of Baltimore, was dcity of the crime of manslaughter, and was sentenced here he siow remaius, for the term of ten years; that ted, as will be seen by the summary appended, was not and a good citizen; and that his conduct since his com- need his support, and under the impression that the welle being of society will not be injured by his enlargement, and that the ends of justice, under the circumstances of the case, have been sufficiently answered, they respectfully implore the Execu- tive clemency in his behalf. BALTIMORE, May I, 189 . (Here follow the signatures.) "No the Honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the Commonwealth of Virginia, in General Assembly convened: Your petitioners, residents and tax-payers of the county of Caroline, respectfully represent PETITION TOTHE;. |. ble body that the f: 3 : to your honorabie body at the farmers of this State are at present subjected to a very heavy tax LEGISLATURE Or A STATE upon their resources, by being compelled to build thousands of miles of fence, not for their own use, but for the purpose of preventing the encroachment of others. Millions of dollars are speut by us annually for this needless fencing. ‘The man who wishes to keep stock should fence in the necessary pasturage for the same ; but it is a great hardship to compel those who do not own any considerable quantity of stock to keep up miles of fencing, which has to be replaced at frequent intervals, so fast does it go toruin. ‘The outlay forced upon us for this purpose keeps many of us poor, who might otherwise acquire the means of living in comfort. We therefore respectfully ask of your honorable body that you will at the earliest practicaolsREMONSTRANCE AGAINST THE PASSAGE OF & LAW @OR OPENING & STRERT ASKING FOR # POLICEMAN S8KING FOR THE EXTERMINATION OF THE CANADA PURE LS FORMS FOR RESOLUTIONS AND PETITIONS. period enact a law to prevent stock of all kinds from running at large; and so grant to yous petitioners a relief which cannot fail to materially advance the general prosperity of the State And your petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever pray, etc. 457 (Here follow the signatures.) CAROLINE COUNTY, Va., Sedtember 8, 189 . ® To the General Assembly of the State of Iowa: The petition of the undersigned, citizens of the village of Port Kennedy, respectinlly set forth, That they have learned that a bill is now before the two Houses of Assembly, for the purpose of erecting the town aforesaid into a corporate borough, ard, believing such a measure to be unnecessary and injurious, and against the will of the inhabitants in the limits of the proposed borough, respectfully, but energetically. remonstrate against its passage by yous honorable body. And your petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever pray, etc. (Here follow the signatures.) eee To THE MAVOR AND ALDERMEN OF THE CITY OF ASSEMBLED » IN COMMON COUNCIE Gentlemen :-—The undersigned respectfully solicit your honorable body to open and extend Walnut street, which now terminates at Adams street, through blocks Nos. 1o and 12 in Hall’s addition to , to Benton street, thereby making Walnut a nearly straight and cone tinuous street for two miles, and greatly accommodating the people in that portion of the city. (Here insert city, state, and date.) [Signed by two hundred tax-payers, more or less.| ao TO THE MAVOR AND ALDERMEN OF THE CITY OF ASSEMBLED 3 —, IN COMMON COUNCIE 4 Gentlemen :—The undersigned citizens and tax payers of , feeling that life and property are very insecure after dark in portions of this town, respectfully ask your honorable body to appoint a night policeman to have supervision of the streets and alleys fzom Harrisor to Walnut streets, on Broadway. (Here give city, state, and date.) [Signed by one hundred tax-payers, more or Jess.) To THE HONORABLE THE SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES OF THE STATE OF , IN LEGISLATURE CONVENED ; The undersigned, citizens of County, respectfully represent that this, and neighboring counties, are becoming infested with that pest, the Canada thistle. As yet they are not in sufficient quantity to be beyond control, but it is feared if they are allowed to go without restraint two years longer, they will be so spread as to make their extermination next to impos: sible. We, therefore, respectfully request your honorable body to take some action looking te their immediate subjection, thus saving the farming community from an evil which canuot te removed if allowed to exist much longer. (Here give county, state, and date.} (Signed by one thousand farmers, more or dss} AS eae aa ee ke Se CE a ek Ce SC Cones ba Semen tn SigB é x a eat ed a aie 4 ke aA 5 = see ™ Pe Pa rete ac ie tien le wr aren ales eS OLR ELI, PLE NEELLOI fe -soreeter eae OE” ON OL = he é H Ps 4 x ! ¥ : ¥ G CHAPTER XLIl. flow to Conduct Public Celebrations. Py sce CELEBRATIONS may be | held by the citizens of a city, town, or village, as a whole people; or by societies or clubs. "he chief public celebration in this country is held on the Fourth of July, or Independ- ence Day. In former years it was the custom to celebrate Washington’s Birthday (February 22d), but this patriotic observance has been almost entirely discontinued. Should the celebration be conducted by the citizens at large, a public meeting should be held some weeks in advance, at which a Committee of Arrangements should be ap- pointed to make provision for the various portions of the celebration. Committees. The Committee of Arrangements should meet as soon as practicable after its appoint- ment. A chairman and secretary should be elected, after which the chairman should ap- point the various sub-committees, whose duty it is to arrange the various details of the cele- bration. ‘I‘hese sub-committees should be as follows: Commuttee on Correspondence.—T his com- mittee is charged with the duty of inviting such distinguished guests as may be desirable. Committee on Finance.—This committee golicits subscriptions of money, and manages the expenditure of it. Committee on Place.—This committee engages a suitable hall, or, if the celebration is to be held in the open air, secures suitable grounds, and attends to the erection of stands, ete. Commuttee on Ovrator.—This committe secures an orator for the occasion and also a reader of the Declaration of Independence, or of the Constitution of the United States, where it is desired to have these documents read, and great care should be taken to select some one known to be a good reader, im order that full effect may be given to the documents to be read, as a bad reader will only mar the ceremonies. Committee on Music.—’'This committee provides the vocal or instrumental music for the occasion. Committee on Printing.—This committee attends to the proper advertising of the cele- bration, and provides programmes and such other printed matter as may be needed for the occasion. Other sub-committees may be appointed to take charge of such other details as may need providing for. All sub-committees are under the control of the Committee of Ar- rangements, and must report to it at me regular meetings. ‘The Committee of Ar rangements may accept or reject the acts of sub-committees. The programme, or order of exercises for the celebration, should be carefully prepared beforehand, and should be rigidly udhered to. Public Dinners. Public dinners are given in honor of some public or social anniversary, or of some dis- tinguished person. ‘They may be given by the citizens of a place at large, or by any number of them, by a political party, a sacietv. or 2 clithThe first step is, as in the case of a public meeting, to appoint a Committee of Arrange- ments, which attends to all the preparations for the dinner. If the dinner is to be given to a particular person, a formal invitation, tendering him this honor, should be addressed to him, signed by as many persons as possible, Should the person accept the invitation, he may either name the day or leave it to the persons tendering the dinner to fix the date. In the latter case, the Committee of Arrange- ments call upon him and arrange a date best suited to his convenience. It is the custom. ¢o issue tickets to a public dinner, except tc invited guests. ‘These tickets are sold at a fixed price, the money thus received being devoted to paying for the entertainment. Should the occasion be one of importance, written invitations are despatched to distin- guished persons in other places. It is not to be expected that all can accept, but their replies, which are read at the close of the entertainment, furnish a very pleasant feature of the occasion. Seating the Guests. The guests assemble in one of the rooms provided for the occasion, and, when dinner is announced, enter the dining-room and proceed to the places assigned them. ge best plan is to place a card with the name of the person on the table at the place he is to sccupy. Where there is more than one table, the President seats himself at the head of the principal table, and the Vice-President takes his place at the foot. A Vice-President is placed at the head of each of the other tables. If possible, the table should be arranged in the shape of aT, with the principal guest at the right hand of the President. The company stand by their chairs, keep- ing their eyes fixed upon the President. As | HOW TO CONDUCT PUBLIC CELEBRATIONS. Pe DIOL ae a et 459 soon as he takes his seat, they seat tla :mseives, Then the principal guest is escorted to his seat by a committee appointed for that purpose. As he enters the room, the President and alf the company rise, and remain standing untif the guest of the day has taken his seat, when they resume their chairs. The President them gives a signal, and the waiters serve the dinner. The Regular Toasts. When the last course has been served and pattaken of, the cloth is removed, and the I. >sident proceeds to read the regular toasts, which have been prepared beforehand by one of the sub-committees. At dinners on the Fourth of July, or anniversaries connected with public matters, the number of regular toasts is thirteen, commemorative of the original number of States. It is not necese sary to have so many on ordinary occasions, But there are certain toast3, given in certain order, which are never to be omitted. ‘The first toast is to the day celebrated, 1f it be a particular day. If not, what would be the second toast, “The President of the United States,” becomes the first. ‘This toast is always to be received with applause, even if the party dining be politically opposed te him, because the toast is to the office, and not the man. ‘The next in order is to the Governor of the State; and the next is te the invited guest, if there be one. ‘The last toast is always given to the opposite sex. After the President has read the toasts, the Vice-President, at the other end of the table, who should be furnished with a copy, also reads aloud. ‘The guests, as they are about to drink it, repeat it, or part of it, aloud. If the guest be toasted, it being personal, every one rises and drinks standing, follow- ing their drinking by applause. If, how- ever, the persona) teast be to any who are Aes RIDES ee ten ee CR Sn SSRN SS eS Se ee See eS Ra ae ana ie wigny anne ‘ nen Seleoe460 dead, although aii rise, they drink the toast and resume their seats in perfect silence. The guest of the evening, having been toasted, is expected to reply, which he does so soon as the party has seated itself, after #t has drunk the toast. As he rises, the President does the same, mentions his name, and resumes his own seat until the guest has closed. Volunteer Toasts. The regular toasts being through, volun- feer ones are in order. Ifit be desired that any one should speak, the usual course is to propose a toast in his honor. After this has been done, it is ex- pected that he will rise, return thanks, and make such proper remarks as will please the company. If, after the cloth has been removed, a song be desired from any one, his name is called out—-Mr. (naming him) for a song. The President then repeats: “Mr. is called upon for a song.” If the party is in veice at all, his best plan is to rise and a BUSINESS RULES AND FORMS. sing at once; if not, he will rise, excuse himself, and offer a sentiment, or tell a story. Towards the close of the entertainment, the President will leave his seat and calla Vice-President, or some other gentleman, to it; and the company will keep the fin going as long as they think proper. When the principal guest leaves, the com- pany will rise, and remain standing until he has left the room. As the President is responsible for the good ordet and harmony of the occasion, the company are bound by the strictest obli- gation of honor to obey his directions and carry out his wishes in all things. Formerly, at these public dinners, men drank to excess. To do this now is con- sidered ill-bred. Indeed, no guest need drink at all, unless he chooses. He should keep a glass of wine before him, and raise it te his lips at every toast; but, if he should not choose to drink, good manners require that no one should note his abstinence. eayyjuecn escent i E d if = \ re Ca = 4a PS aay in aaa z TWMnnvalllnarlltuallarallinulliie —ee wie ti a ew = BOOK V Q 4 CL Cn ee em) Manual of Practical Suggestions and Useful Information for the Home and School. CHAPTER XLITI. The Art Writing Well, Showing How to Acquire Good Hand-Writing, and How to Express Written Thoughts in a Correct Manner. rH fa~eRITING is tne art -of CES | The Phoenician alphabet, upon which “ by visible signs or characters | that of the Hebrews was modelled, had been Atti inscribed on some material. It is | in existence for several centuries before thi: either ideographic oi phonetic. Ideographic | time, and as Phoenicia was then a dependency Writing may be either pictorial, repr aoa ng objects by imitating their forms, or symbolic, by indicating their nature or proportions. Phonetic writing may be syllabic or alpha- betic; in the former, each character repre- sents a syllable; in the latter, a single letter The first mention of written letters of which we have any record is in the account given in the Book of Exodus of the Tables of the Law. We are told that the Ten Commandments were written by the finger of God on tables or tablets of stone. This statement has led some writers, among them the learned Dr. Adam Clarke, to believe that letters were Divinely invented upon this accasion. ‘There is no necessity, however, yor taking this view of the case; for at the time of the “Giving of the Law,” a written language belonged to each of the nations on the southern shore of the Mediterranean. of Egypt, and engaged in active commerce with that country, Moses was doubtles: acquainted with the Phoenician pees The fact that the Hebrew alphabet wa modelled upon the Phoenician seems Aa a positive proof of this theory. The early history of the alphabet has te be reconstructed from inscriptions, as noth ing in the shape of manuscripts are now in existence to tell us what were the forms of the letters. ‘These are handed down in bronze and stone. ; The date of theinvention of the Pheenician alphabet, which was the first purely phoneti¢ system ever used, is now dehuitely settled, It was during the supremacy oi the Shep: herd Kings over Egypt. These were princes of Canaanitish origin, who had conquered Lower Egypt, and were contemporary with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph. ‘The 4Oz CR ST eee Roe ke Cs edl PN ae es te ee os ae Perens eT ns et Re Sees ce ge RA SRW Silat DS Bote ominFh et Pee cated bay a Pt nity eh cig i IGGL LLLD- EEN AE ee ta a Liat ap + : rf G s fi i # ¥ a by 462 MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. discoveries of science give us reason to | Scribner, and is winning its way to favor, believe that it was the Shepherd Kings of | The “copy books” prepared by these masters Avaris, who borrowed from the Egyptian | present the best and most progressive system hieratic writing a certain number of alpha- | of penmanship now accessible to the learner, betical characters, employed them to fe- | and we cordially commend them to all. present the sounds of their own language, | Practice Necessary. and thus produced the Phoenician alphabet | of twenty-two letters, the origin of most of the other alphabets of the world. The Phoenicians not only invented the alphabet; | some persons good penmanship is a gift, but they taught the use of it to all nations with | hon they had commercial transactions. | | | | | | The only way in which a person can acquire the art of writing a good hand is by | constant and conscientious practice. With all may acquire it by et a ¢ 1d, #1 ; | Select ries o wor 1e art of | With the progress of the v | referred - see cannot be improved upon writing and the characters employed were | greatly simplified, until the system in use at | a pied dy the civilized aay | you can do as well as the master you are of the world. pris : Penmanship is the art of writing well. | Tt is one of the most important accomplish- | ments a person can possess. No matter what | | It is of the greatest importance that the your position in life, the ability to write a | and try faithfully to form your hand upon | the model selected. Do not be satisfied until seeking to imitate. time riting Materials. writing materials used by you should pe of good, clear, legible hand, is a priceless pos- | the best quality. session. ‘To a young man starting out to| The pen should be of steel or of oe make his way in life, it is so much genuine | Many persons prefer the gold pen, because capital, which he can turn to advantage at | more nearly approaches the quill in ie almost every step. "The great object should | bility. It is also the most durable pen. A be to write a firm, clear hand, with uniformly | good gold pen, properly used, should last for A a ~ oD -—a ook made, well-shaped, and properly shaded | years. For general use, and especially for letters. An abundance of flourishes or | ornamental writing, a good steel pen is by marks is a defect, except where ornamental | far the best. It enables you to make a fine writing or ouashing? 3 is intended. | and sharper line than can possibly be made r The present system of forming and com- | with the gold or quill pen. & ay Mt bining letters seems to be perfect. Itenables| ‘The paper should be of the be the writer to put his thoughts on paper | and texture, clearly almost with the rapidity of speech, and it is | rough in surface. It is most common now not probable that it will ever be improved | to use copy books, regularly prepared and | upon. | ruled. It is a good plan, after you have 44 - or . : 4 In this country two styles of penmanship | completed a copy book, to go over the same are in use. One is known as the round | set of copies again. ‘This may be done by : i < ~ 7 hand, the other as the angular. A new sys- | taking half a dozen sheets of foolscap and tem, known as the semi-angular, has been | cutting them in half. Place the half sheets introduced, mainly through the efforts of the | within each other, and stitch them together, Spencers, and of Payson, Dunton and ! protecting the whole with a cover of stiff st quality ruled, and t lied, an not tocAR% OF WRITING WELL. paper. Then use the copies of the book you have just finished, writing on the new book you have thus made. Blotters and Ink. A slip of blotting-paper should be pro- vided for every copy book. In writing rest the hand upon this, especially in warm weather. ‘The perspiration thrown off by the hand is greasy in its nature, and soils the paper upon which the hand rests, and renders it unfit to receive the ink. Never use poor ink. Black ink should always be used in learning to write, aud in ordinary correspondence. Blue and red inks are designed for special purposes, and not for ordinary use. An ink that flows freely and is nearly black when first used is best. Do not use a shallow or light inkstand. ‘The first will not allow you to fill your pen properly; the latter will be easily turned over. The inkstand should be heavy and flat, and of such a form that you can at once see the amount of ink in it, and thus know how deep to dip your pen. Dip your pen - lightly into the ink, and see that it does not | take up too much. ‘The surplus ink should be thrown back into the inkstand, and not upon the floor. By stopping the mouth of the bottle when you have finished using it, you will prevent the ink from evaporating to. fast, and also from becoming too thick. A pei: wiper should always be provided. This should he of some substance that will not leave a fibre in the slit of the pen. A linen rag or 2 piece of chamois or buckskin will answer. Position of the Writer. After you have learned to write, it is well to provide your desk with a lead pencil, a piece of India rubber, a ruler, and a bottle of mucilage and a brush. In writing in a sitting position, a flat table is the best. 403 The position of the writer is a matter of the greatest importance, as it decides his | comfort at the time, and exercises a powerful influence upon his general health. The main object is to acquire an easy and graceful position, one in which the right arm has full play of the muscles used in writing. The table should be sufficiently high to compel you tc sit upright. Avoid stooping, as destructive of a good hand and of good health. Your position should be such 4s will enable you to fill your lungs without much CORRECT POSITION OF A LADY IN WRITING. effort. Sit with your right side next to the desk or table, and in such:a position that the light will fall over your right shoulder upon the paper. The right forearm must be placed on the desk so as to rest the muscle front of the elbow, and the hand placed on the book so as to rest the nails of the third and fourth fingers. The forearm must be at right angles with the copy, the book being steadied by the fingers of the left hand placed on the paper at the left of the pen-point. Hold the wrist naturally over the desk, and you will see that the inner side is raised a little higher tham ees tee eee ‘ac ect SOE Nhs Wc kek EEN SON NOES NER er cS Ce Cine Goats cm SS Tt a a S: . ay oeses een " fo Oh eed . ee. Se ee Rp Atos c ntashasd ne pee As ee a ata PAOD eR inn cnte gre de a ee Pa A kde LA Tee = emo Bi cs cette TAIRA NP eo ss eersadeoninmis toca nent an ae ers EAD ate ERATE A iAKT OF WRITING WELE. the outer. Keep the wrist free from the desk, and do not let it turn over to the right or the left, or bend down or up, or otherwise. How to Hold the Pen, Hold the pen lightly between the thumb and first two fingers, letting it cross the forefinger in front of the third joint. Rest the base of the holder at the nail of the middle finger. Place the forefinger over the holder. Bend the thumb and fingers out- ward, and the third and fourth fingers under to rest the hand on the nails. Let the nibs of the pen press the paper evenly. The movements in writing are produced by the extension and retraction of the pen- fingers and the thumb; by the action of the forearm on the arm-rest as a centre of motion: | : ° ; oe the whole arm movement, which is the | action of the whole arm from the shoulder as the centre of motion; and the union of all these move- ments. In or- dinary writing, the first is suffi- INCORRECT MODE OF Horpinc Mental writing, THE PEN. flourishing, ete., all tac various move- ments are em- ployed. should be kept flexible, and their move- those of the hand and. wrist, ‘ should be free HE HAND. es iam ez == CORRECT POSITION OF 1 : and unrestrain- ed. Cramping or stiffening either the fingers or the wrist causes the handwriting to be 30 & cient. In orna- } The fingers | mentsas wellas | as a ee oe ee) ae a ee oe be ed re 465 cramped and awkward, and greatiy fatigues the writer. The pen should be held as ey | : a be | lightly as though the least pressure would crush it, and not grasped as though you thought it would fly away. The Standing Position. In standing at a desk to write, stand ug right, and with the chest well thrown out. The desk should be high enough to compel you to do this. It should slightly incline from the outer edge upwards, and should project far enough to allow you to place your feet well under it. The principal weight of the body should rest. wpon the left foot, the right being thrown forward. Stand with your left side toward the desk, and rest your bedy on the left elbow, which should be laid upon the desk in such a manner as to enable you te steady your paper or book with the left hand. This position will enable you to write freely in the ordinary manner, or to use the whole forearm should yon desire to do so. The pen-holder should point towards the right shoulder. A great saving of fatigue is made by et. {assuming and keeping a correct position while writing either sitting or standing, By conscientiously attending to this matter, you will soon acquire the habit of maintaining a correct position, and will reap the benefit in the ease with which you perform your task, and in improved health. No one should be satisfied with a bad handwriting when it is in his power to im- prove it. Any one can procure a copy- book, and can spare an hour, or half an hour, a day for this effort at improvement. You should begin at the beginning, and practise faithfully until you have reached a satisfactory result. Remember that a good hand is not acquired in a week or a month; it takes long and diligent practice to produce Sk eS Snes mes TY rt a ae A ee ek. he a | eePeas ne Poa DRL lak aye rms teal enn othe OTS SC me a ae yy At Lt )., (aA ZZ Aa (UIA \ SN SANUS \\ oe Vii hs ¥ * / A SR na ees am PE ie a PA enceetait = A meee ee Fy a eek all Lemiaciniel lea calle aie ee - 4 e | > Jf? > Hea Meeting of the = : ee NS a So a oe eg - elas J is < ath? oe ee Ullal lhe Micomd, Chugeitbs ah eh Uiffotlowe ag jedoluledn weed 0; Lise tin Deine cnimeuMy iidifiler gy loser li | | i, A scaniaeras ~~ ’ BIA Kip key % gh giz \ ; Wiha Cet cae P ' ar } | “ty Ee 8g-& ee Gy we a é Soe —_ 1 — See ee ite Ahh flit lugffiue] Pasiterl of thi Mee , pvhih tee lfed fd dhe -offecee Mtettetledit DW itd’ A- | cilin duving Me Yast lu L y = Gas: td” Moot (+6) PL MAELO MLE vs sidert: <= env taeART OF WRITING WELL. Se ae ane be he Nd Sia et OL LS | Ee eer ei OOO ey ie ae ee 473 by cominas from the rest of the sentence; | interposition and aid.” Here the clauses namely, Nay, so, however, hence, besides, perhaps, finally, in short, at least, moreover, again, first, secondly, thirdly, lastly, once more, on the contrary, ete. _ The words of another writer, not formally fntroduced as a quotation, and words and clauses expressing contrast or opposition, though closely connected in construction, are separated by a comma; as, “I pity the man, who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, ’Tis all barren.” “Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull; Strong, without rage; without o’erflowing, full.’ When the absence of a word is indicated in reading or speaking by a pause, its place may be suppled by acomma; as, “‘ From law arises security ; from security, inquiry; from inguiry, knowledge.” Nouns in apposition, accompanied by ex- planatory words or phrases, are separated by commas; but if such nouns are single, or only form a proper name, they are not divided; as, “Paul the Apostle of the Gentiles was eminent for his zea] and knowl- edge.” Semicolons, Colons and Pei.ods. When a sentence consists of several mem- bers, each constituting a distinct proposition, and having a dependence upon each other, or upon some common clause, they are separated by semicolons; as, ‘“‘ Wisdom has | builded her house; she hath hewn out her ‘even pillars; she hath killed her beasts; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also furnished her table.” Lhe colon is used to divide a sentence into “4 or more parts, which, although the seuse be complete in each, are not wholly independent ; as, “Nature felt her inability to extricate herself from the consequences of guilt: the Gospel reveals the plan of Divine are complete in sense, yet form one sentence. The colon is used when an example, a quotation, or a speech is introduced; as, ‘The Scriptures give us an amiable repre sentation of the Deity in these words: God is love.” The period is used at the end of a complete and independent sentence. It is also placed after initial letters when used alone; and, likewise, after all abbreviations; as, “One clear and direct path is pointed out to man.” “Fear God.” ‘ Have charity towards all men.” ‘G. W.,” for “George Washington.” “€ Géo:,”” for “George.” - “Bent? forss cue jamin.” “Or 8.2 tor “Olds StyleY sans S.,” for “Fellow of the Royal Society.” In a general view, the period separates the paragraph into sentences; the semicolor divides a compound sentence into simple ones; and the comma collects into clauses the scattered circumstances of manner, time, place, relation, etc., belonging to every verb and to every noun. Interrogation and Exclamation Marks. The note of interrogation, or the question, as it is sometimes called, is placed after every sentence which contains a questior; as, “Who is this?” ‘What have you in your hand?” ‘The Cyprians said to me, Why do you weep?” The exclamation point is used to express any stidden or violent emotion; such as sur- prise, joy, grief, love, hatred, anger, pity, anxiety, ardent wish, etc. It isalso used te mark an exalted idea of the Deity; and 1s generally placed after the nominative case in dependent; and after the noun or pronout which follows an interjection; as. “How mischievous are the effects of war!’ *Q blissful days! Ah me! how soon we pass !” The exclamation point is also used aftes s are ee & e ot ny ‘ ; P| A , # Ud + ef i vd . A A | “a BI el Raa SO Ene Ses rea Se Gee cm een See UN Wt A a * sl ROR a ny ST ec i eee > FR a ls Solemn by Pa or Ca ae? ee ed) = Peeten ONE-HAND ALPHABET. _ ral laa as 5 ey ad ald a Na ela SIGNS USED FOR LETTERS BY THE DEAF AND DUMB. e — 1 | ! 1 ‘ : ! Oe Pr actin PS Ses Lt Sk oft. ~I faeva Oy bets tae} ROOST Birk, tae ee we (eee eee Ge Oe ee ’ ART OF WRITING WELL. sentences containing a question when no answer is expected; as, ‘“‘ What is more amia- able than virtue!” Several exclamation points are sometimes | used together, either in a parenthesis or by | themselves, for the purpose of expressing | tidicule or a great degree of surprise. The Parenthesis, Bracket, BHyphen, Ete. A patenthesis is a sentence, or a part of a | sentence, inserted within another sentence but which may be omitted without ae | the sense or construction, and is enclosed between two closed lines like these: ( ). The curved lines between which a paren- thesis is enclosed are called crotcheis. Sometimes a sentence is enclosed betweet arks like these, | ], which are called brackets. The following difference is to be noticed in theuseof crotchets and brackets: Crotchets al are used to enclose a sentences, or part of a | sentence, which is inserted between the parts | of another sentence: Brackets are generally used to separate two subjects or to enclose an | explanatory note or observation standing by itself’ When a parenthesis occurs within another parenthesis, Lrackets enclose the former, and crotchets the latter; as in the following sentence from Stern: ‘‘I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in [there is no need, cried Dr. Slop (wak- ing), to call in any physician in this cas se |, to be neither of them man of much teligion.” It may be here remarked that a parenthe- sis is frequently placed between commas, in- Stead of crotchets, etc.; but the best writers avoid the use of parenthesis as much as possible. The hyphen is a small mark placed between the parts of a compound word; as, sea-water, 475 - Z | The hyphen is also used to denote the ilong sound of a vowel; as, Epicuré-an, | deco-ruim. q 4 The hyphen must always be put at the end of the line when part of the word is in one line and part in another; but in this rase | the letters of a syllable Ba never be | arated ; as, { | | | | sep. extraor- dinary, not ext- raordinary. The dash is a straight mark longer than a | hyphen; thus, — he proper use of the dash is to express a sudden stop or change of the subject; but by modern writers, 1t is employed as a sub- stitute for almost all of the other marks: being used sometimes for a comma, semi- colon, colon or period; sometimes for a 4 ; question or an exclamation, and sometimes for crotchets and brackets to enclose a paren- S| thesis, An ellipsis or omission of words, syllables or ee is indicated by various marks: sometimes by a dash; as, the k———g¢, for the king; sometimes be: asterisks or stars, like these, * * * *; sometimes by hyphens, thus, ----; sometimes by small dots or periods, like these, The breve (thus) is placed over a vowel to indicate its short sound; St. Hélena. The apostrophe isthe comma placed above the line. It is used as the sign of the pos: sessive case, and sometimes indicates the omission of a letter or several letters; as, “Tohn’s;” “tis” for “at is 7? tho ae ‘though;” “lov’d” for “loved ;” “PIL” for FE will” | The quotation marks, or inverted commas, as they are sometimes calied, consist of four commas, two inverted, or upside down, at the beginning of a word, phrase or sentence which is quoted or transcribed froin some semi-circle. author in hisown words ; aud two others, in Ve ee yt i i 2 oe rh ont atte SN ee et a bp A then rte TS = Py Ra BR" ROR ASCARIS RT Io he es Sl Ses Ae thet 2ee Pinna aA mS es a mai ACS te Be ee RES 0 a! eR ce aC SN ll eae ; Ae cn teat ee poe RE Pr RR en aaa mie aateeaatediat hfe Maer ee eee Se a ii at ae te laa :af teed be : | : o Te ee ceca dag ia dn cecal a REP 2) Sean Ch ee a nak a eacainle Setar gE OE ce Pe I NA EI CE A —— Legis —————SN MS by ee fi te a a cg ep Ris oy ap eh se ART OF WRITING WELL. their divect position, placed at the conclu- gion; as, an excellent poet says: ‘The proper study of mankind is man.”’ Sometimes the quotation is marked by sin- ple instead of double commas. The dizeresis consists of two periods placec ove. tue latter of two vowels to show that they are <> be pronounced in separate sylla- 477 the following sentence, it the acute accen’ be used on the word alone, becomes e ques: tion: ‘* Pleased thou shalt hear, and thou aléne shalt hear?” But if the grave accent be placed on the vord alone, it becomes a simple declaration ? as, ‘* Pleased thou shalt hear, and thou alone shalt hear.” ee SRT Ce a za Se | 4 . eer i e ° bles; as, LaocuSy, ZoOnomia, cooperate. | The circumflex accent is the union of the The brace is employed to unit TQ e several | grave and acute accents, and indicates that lines of poetry, or to connect a the OL, | the syllable on which it is placed should words with one common term ; and it is also | have both the rising and falling inflection of used to prevent a repetition in writing or the voice. a S - e e printing 5 thus, he caret is a mark resembling an in- 7 att > J 2 > _ - . 7 < ‘Waller was smooth; but Dry ‘den taught hit 7 to join > Vel ae V 5 placed under the line. it 1S never The varying verse, the full-résounding line, used in printed books, but, in manuscripts, The lnng majestic march an. energy divine.’ J = 44 1: 4 , shows that something has been accidentally C-e-0-7-s | . 11 444 arte C-1-0-u-s { : 1 ee omitted ) as, ee ooucs | are pronounced like shus. T-i-o-u-s 5S SSS Sauce es METAB Ea a mean ROVE IRA RIC ah RNB ss recited ‘George has his lesson.” tae 3 ee ae a The cedilla, or cerilla, is a curve line WI | ik as When many notes occur on a placed under the letter c, to show that it has | _, A ) hoe PaaS ae é . + a, «| the reference marks given above are. a the sound of s. It is used a a anced. tad t S am co | hausted, 1t 1s customary to double them. words derived from the French langua | » ae ree 3 1 Some writers prefer to use the numerais, 1, Thus garcon, in which word the ¢ is y be aa 2, 3, 4, etc., assimpler. This is a matter of pronounced like s. es as taste with the writer. The accents are marks used to signify the | proper pronounciation of words. The accents are three in number: Sections and Paragraphs. The section § and the paragraph 4 are ised to mark the parts of a composition tin: should be separated. Where you wish the compositor to separate a paragraph into two or more paragraphs, it is not necessary rewrite the page. Place the |] where you | wish each new paragraph to begin, and the flection of the voice; as, Reuthamir. | compositor will understand your wishes. | | ot The grave accent, thus, ‘ The acute accent, thus, f The circumflex accent, thus, ” The grave accent is represented by a mark placed over a ietter, or syllable, to show that it must be pronounced with the falling in- | The acute accent is represented by a| A paragraph denotes the beginning of a | new subject, or a sentence not connectec direction, to show that the etter or syllable | with the foregoing. must be pronounced with the rising inflec- | A section is used for subdividing a chapter tion of the voice ; thus, Epicuréan, Européan. | into smaller parts. The meaning of a sentence often de ee similar mark, pointing in the opposite at : | } & | r % S a 4 ib Hy e | A + ; Os ‘| a oe : : a Ga | | a Pa | | Jt is proper here to add, that every com- on the kind of accent which is used; thus | position should be divided into paragrapus, SS a ores enee Ge wens aie Be I RO ae is by Aaeta oe | = | : as — SSeS = eA WAR owe F TP ere eee — SIPs Ko SPECIMEN OF ORNAMENTAL PENMANSHIP. 478 a et ee \ ; ‘ calhet ase lit tt 0 pe ace RPO a A ERS TSE wand Cat XE EAL AE TIN eh ee | , k kPik Bue ay ee ART OF WRITING WELL. : when the sense will allow the separation. Different subjects, unless they are very short, or very numerous in a small compass, should be separated into paragraphs. Underscoring, Many wuistakes arise from improperly underscoring the words of a nianuscript or letter. It is well to refrain from underscot- ing a word wherever you can do so with propriety, just as you would avoid unduly emphasizing your words in speaking. A single line drawn under a word indicates that it must be set by the compositor in italics; as, ‘‘I dearly love her.” ‘Two lines indicate small capitals; as, “I honor him.” Three lines indicate large capitals ; as, ‘“‘ Help, elp, I cry.” GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF GRAMMAR. Although the details of Grammar and grammatical rule are not embraced in the plan of this work, we may with propriety present some observations with regard to those principles which are most frequently forgotten or disregarded by careless writers. These are here presented in the form of directions. DIRECTION Ist. In determining the number of a verb, regard must be had to the idea which is embraced in the subject or nominative. Whenever the idea of plu- rality is conveyed, whether it be expressed by one word or by one hundred aid how- ever connected, and in whatever number the subject may be, whether singular or plural, ali verbs relating to it must be made to agtee, not with the number of the word or words, but with the number of the zd@ea con- veyed by the words. DiRECTION 2d. In the use of pronouns the same remark applies: namely, that the 479 the zdea contained in the word, or words, to which the pronoun relates. If it imply unity, the pronoun must be singular; if it convey plurality, the pronoun must be plural. These directions will be better understood by an example. Thus, in the sentence, “Each of them, in their turn, receive the benefits to which zhey are entitled,” the verbs and pronouns are in the wrong number. The word each, although it includes a//, implies but one at atime. ‘The tdea, therefore, is the idea of wuzty, and the verb and pronoun should be singular; thus, “Hach of them in zs turn recedes the benefit to which “e is entitled.” The same remark may be made with te- gard to the following sentences: “Every per- son, whatever be ¢hezr (his) station, is bound by the duties of morality.” “Ihe wheel killed another man, who is the sixth that have (has) lost their (his) “ves (life) by these means.” “I do. not’ think that any ome should incur censure for being tender of their (his) reputation.” DIRECTION 3d. In the use of verbs and words which express time, care must be taken that the proper tense be employed to express the time that is intended. Perhaps there is no rule more frequently violated than this, even by good writers; but young writers are very prone to the error; thus the author of the Waverley Novels has the fol- lowing sentence: ““(Tescription,’ he said, ‘was (is) to the uthor of a romance exactly what drawing and tinting were (are) to a painter; words were (are) his colors, and, if properly em- ployed, they cozld (can) not fail to place the scene which he zwzshed (wishes) to conjure up as effectually before the mind’s eye as the tablet or canvas presents it to the bodily or- gan. ‘The same rules,’ he continued, ‘a- number ef the pronoun must coincide with plied (apply) to both, and an exuberance of ~~ * ee pean Meine ™ Set a ed BS a Bet a: a eS ia uF ‘ ey be | f Ja | PI Ne v¢ | a | ad ry i a Ter a, ar i Re e ¥ a Re ne a 4 cs at yar | on ed hame.”? ‘He has gone home. Instead of, “I intend to sttmmons him,’ | say, ‘‘T intend to summon him.’ hoe ay ?) “XT (¢/7S oa vo 2) Instead of, ‘‘ From thence,” say, ‘‘’Thence. ) a say, | ' “From here to there, *“ Prom this place to that.” orreenistennpeemengennstre ee a CdS RL I ROE I NTS MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. Instead of, ‘“Kither of them are,” say, ‘(Hach of them is.” Instead of, “A most perfect work,” say, ‘‘A perfect work.” Instead of, ‘’I‘he other one,” or, “Another one,” say, ‘The other,” or, “Another.” Instead of, ‘‘My every hope,” say, “Al my hopes.” Instead of, ‘For good and all,” say, “ For ever.” Instead of, ‘“‘ He lives at Troy,” say, ‘‘ He ) lives in Troy.’ Instead of, ‘I am coming to your house,” say, ‘I am going to your house.” Instead of, “I suspicioned him,” say, “1 suspected him.” Instead of, ‘They mutually loved each other,” say, ‘‘’They loved each other.” Instead of, “Of two evils choose the least,” say, ‘‘ Of two evils choose the less.” Instead of, “If I were her, I would do it,” say, “If I were she, I would do it.” —— bceCHAPTER XLIV. The Art of Writing Poetry, with Practical Instructions for Composing Verses. i S MOST persons are given, at some period of their lives, to writing po- etry, itseems not inappropriate to devote a portion of this work to a few prac- tical remarks upon that subject. Poetry is the language of the imagination, the idea generally entertained that it consists in writing of rhymes, and in the proper ar- sangement of the verses and words employed, is erroneous. Verses may be arranged with the most precise skill, so that the keenest ctitic shall be unable to detect a flaw in their construction, and yet may not be po- etry. On the other hand, a prose composi-" tion may be rich in the truest poetry. The words or verses are but the dress in which the thought is clothed. It is the thought, the idea, or the picture painted by the imag- ination that is poetry. The famous expres- sion of Menon, “ Like the sandal-tree, which sheds a perfume on the axe which fells it, we should love our enemies,” though written in prose, is poetic in the highest degree. This distinction of the pcetic principle should be carefully borne in mind by those who aspire to write verse. The usual form of poetry is verse, and it 1s most common to adorn it with rhyme. Versification is the art of making verses. The word séanza is frequently used for verse, but improperly so. A verse consists of a single line. A stanza consists of a number of lines regularly adjusted to each other. We may, then, define a verse as a line con- sisting of a certain succession of long and 493 short syllables. The halt of a verse is called a hemistitch. Two lines or verses constitute a distich, or couplet. The standard by which verse is measured is called metre. ‘This depends on the num- ber of the syllables and the position of the accents. One of the most common errors with those who attempt to write poetry is the oversight of proper metre. There is no necessity for this; anyone who can count is able to tel! the number of syllables in a line. In order to regulate the proper succession of long and short syllables, verses are divided into certain measures, called /ee¢. This term is applied because the voice, in repeating the lines, steps along, as it were, in a kind of measured pace. This division into feet de- pends entirely upon what is called the guan- tity of the syllables; that is, whether they are long or short, without reference to the words. Two kinds of verse are used by poets— rhyme and blank verse. Rhyme is character- ized bya similarity of soundat theend of cer- tain definitely arranged lines. For example: All thoughts, all passions, all... . delights, Whatever stirs this mortal . . .. frame, Are but the ministers of... . love, And feed hissacred .... flame. What is the baby thinking .... about® Very wonderful things no... . doubt. Blank verse isa combination of lines that do not rhyme. It was the earliest form of poetry used, and the only form attempted in Europe until the Middle Ages, when the SR GPG LEE PILED ot KB eC ery rT | ne Cae bee re er ein AOA SOS ah a SE Ee SI i : 4 | a eer oe Re ee ee ee ee ae See ss eae oe : a! ate he ered eee et he ete eeee eet a ee Oe Po io Seber et ean e | : ff ‘ ; ah Sadat Ps: LURE KEY IF wir Monch iamiiiern hing 494 minstrels and poet of that period introduced the novelty of rhyme. It is used principally in dramatic compositions, descriptive and heroic poems, and the like. The following from Shakspeare’s play o “As you like it,” is a fair sample of blank c 4 Verse ; “JT have neither the scholar’s melancholy, Which is emulation ; nor the musician’s, Which is fantastical ; nor the courtier’s, Which is pride ; nor the soldier’s, which is Ambition; nor the lawyers, which is politic; Nor the lady’s, which is nice; nor the lover's, Which isall of these ; but it is a melancholy Of mine own; compounded of many simples, Extracted from many objects, and, indeed, The sundry contemplation of my travels; In which my often rumination wraps me In a most humorous sadness.”’ Accent and Feet. A foot may sometimes consist of a single word, or, again, it may comprise two or three different words, or be composed of parts of different words. In English verse, eight kinds of feet are employed. Four of these are feet of two syllables, and four are feet of three syllables. The feet composed of two syllables are the Trochee, the Iambus, the Spondee, and the Pyrrhic. ‘Those consisting of three syllables ate the Dactyle, the Amphibrach, the Ana- pest, and the Tribrach. The Trochee is composed of one long and one short syllable; as, olory. The Iambus consists of one short syllable and one long one; as, betray. The Spondee is composed of two long | syllables; as, high day. | The Pyrrhic is composed of two short syl- lables; as 6x thé dry land. The Dactyle is composed of one long syl- lable and two short ones; as, dlixess, guzctly. The Amphibrach is composed of a short, a long, and a short syllable; as délightfil, removal, costumer. MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. The Anapzest is composed of two shoré syllables and a long one; as, contravene, separate. The ‘Tribrach is composed of three sho syllables; as, happiness. The Iambus, the Trochee, the Anapezest, and the Dactyle are most frequently used, and verses may be composed wholly or chiefs ly of them. The others are termed ‘“‘ seconds ary feet,” because they are used only to var” the harmony of the verse. Di, Divisions of English Yerse. English verse is divided into four classes, distinguished by the feet of which each is composed, viz.: the Iambic, the Trochaie, the Anapzestic, and the Dactylic. Some writers hold that the Dactylic is not, strictly speaking, a distinct divison, but is nothing more than the Anapzestic with the first two unaccented syllables omitted. “Hvery species of English verse,” says Parker, “ regularly terminates with an ac- cented syllable; but every species also ad- mits at the end an additional wxaccented syllable, producing (if the verse be in rhyme) a double rhyme; that isa rhyme extending to two syllables, as the rhyme must always commence on the accented syllable. 'This ad- ditional syllable often changes the character of the verse from grave to gay, from serious > to jocose; but it does not affect the measure 1 : f 4 or rhyme of the preceding part of the verse. A verse thus lengthened is called Ayer meter, or Over meter.” Specimens cf the Various Styles. ° Different kinds of feet frequently occur in all the different kinds of verse ; but it is not always possible to determine them with ac: curacy. The Iambus, the Trochee, the Spondee, and the Pyrrhic are easily recog nizable ; but the Dactyle, the Anapeest, andART OF WRITING POETRY. 495 the Tribrach ate not so readily discrimin- Tambic Verse. ated, as poetic license allows the writer to Pure Iambic verse is composed of Iam: make the foot in question a Trochee, a | busses alone. ‘The accent is uniformly on Spondee, or a Pyrrhic. The advantage of | the even syllables. We give below speci- having a good ear for rhythm is evident; | mens of the various feet used in writing this it renders the lines musical. style of verse: One foot. I fly On high. Two feet. We can | not see Beyond | the sea. Three feet. The grim | and blood | y band, With its | relent | less hand. Four feet. Come now | again | thy woes | impart, Tell all | thy sor | rows, all | thy sin. Five feet. While to | his arms | the blush | ing bride | he took, To seeming | sad | ness she | composed | her look. S72 feet. The day | is past | and gone; | the ev | ning shades | appear. Seven feet. When all | thy mer | cies, O | my God, | my ris | ing soul | surveys, Transport | ed with | the sight, | I’m lost | in wond | er, love, | and praise. Note.—This style of verse is rarely written as above in modern poetry, but is divided into four lines, as follows: When all | thy mer | cies, O | my God, My ris | ing soul | surveys. Transport | ed with | the sight, | I’m lost In wond | er, love, | and praise. fight feet. Glory | to thee, | my God, | this night, | for all | the bless | ings of | the light: Keep me, | O keep | me, King | of kings, | under | thy own | almight | y wings. Mhis couplet ~ould generally be written thus: Glory | to thee, | my God, | this night, For all | the bless | ings of | the light: Keep me, | O keep | me, King | of kings, Under | thy own | almight | y wings. Trochaic Verse. in Trochaic verse the accent is uniformly on the odd syllables. One foot. a Shining, | Twining. Lwo feet. Rich the | treasure, Sweet the | pleasure. hyree feei. : Go where | glory | waits thee, Yet when | fame e | lates thee. Four fees ee Stars from | out the | skies are | peeping. Nature | now is | softly | sleepitig. Hive fesi. Ve that | do des | pise the | lowly | worke' Ye SBN ES i eae ERAN BM RET RS SacBee bo pepe SASRIAY EOMORO w SS a SSS eo SORE RA Show NORD SR ne a * a 8 i‘ | # 3 ‘ 4 ae | A 4 m ce * a its | x + | t 2 | a aS a + 4a | Esee De eee Se at eee me ? af a ae Pe Ls ; i 4 i | Re SE Sdn of Sk WS SE le ee 495 MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. Six feel. Farewell, | brethren ! | farewell, | sisters! | Iam | dying! Seven feet. ks “ Once un | ona | midnight | dreary, | \ vhile I | ponder’d | weak and | weary. Anaprestic Verse. The accent in Anapzestic verse is upon the last syllable. ne foot. ee I ordain, All in vain. wo feet. oe Hark ! above, | the soft dove Sings of love | as we rove. Three feet. : Iam mon | arch of all | I survey. > Four jeét. goes i At the close | of the day | when the ham | let is still. Dactylic Verse. In Dactylic verse the accent is upon the first syllable of each successive three. One foot. : Joyfully, Fearfully. Two feet. N Safe on the Three feet. Ierrily | welcome us, | shining sana. Speak to her | tenderly, | lovingly, Chide her but | gently and | soothingly. Four feet. Five feet. Come to me | beautiful | Other Styles. Pyrrhic. On the tall tree. Spondee. ‘The wide sea. Amphibrach. Delightful, Unequal, Coeval. Tribrach. Numerable, Conquerable. auses. In reading poetry, a pause should be made at the end of each line. It should not be too long, but should be sufficient to mark the measure and the end of the line. It is made by a very brief suspension of the voice, without atiy change in the tone or accent. It is a mistake to read poetry as though it were prose, running the lines to- gether, and so losing the music, which is one of the greatest charms of verse. Another pause is often required in the body of a verse, for the sake of the sense. “This is called 7he C@sura, or The Cesural Pause. visions of | happier | days tha Owning her | weakness, her | evil be | havior. ‘hint Its position may be generally ascertained by the grammatical construction of the sentences and the punctuation, as these naturally indt- cate where the sense either demands or per inits a pause. In the following lines the | place for the ceesura is indicated by an | asterisk : | ‘The Saviour comes* by ancient bards fore. | told. | Exalt thy towering head* and lift thy eyes. | Czesar* the world’s great master* and his | own, | Classification of Poetry. | English poetry may be classified as follows: | Epic, Dramatic, Lyric, Elegaic, Pastoral and | Didactic. | An pic poem is a re-nantic tale in verse, and embraces many iu.cidents and numerous | characters, It is narrativeand descriptive inVed Wes were Be iY Se She oe ee ART OF WRITING POETRY. haracter, ana heroic in style. Zhe neil of Virgil, Zhe Jiad and Odyssey of Homer, and the Paradise Lost of Milton, are the most notable examples of this style. A Drama is to some extent, epic in char- acter, but is so constructed that the tale, in- stead of being merely related by the writer, Is made to pass, by the action of the chart- acters or petsonages of the story, before the eyesot thereader. Every actor in thedrama has his representative on the stage, who speaks the language of the poet as if it were a.30wn; and every action is literally per- formed or imitate? as if it were of natural ecurrence. In the constrnetion of a drama, rules have been laid down by the critics, the principal of which relate to the ¢hree Untties, as they are called, of action, of time, and of place. Unity ot action requires that a single object should be kept in view. No underplot orsee- ondary action is allowable, unless it tend to advance the preminent purpose. Unity of time requires thatthe events should belimited to a shoit period, seldom if ever more than a single day. Unity of place requires the confinement ct the actions represented within natiow geographicai limits. Another rule of dramatical criticism is termed poetical justice; by which itis understood that the personages shall be rewarded or punished, according to 49} An Elegy is a poem of song expressive of sorrow. It is distinct from an epitaph, as the latter is strictly an inscription on a tomb- stone. The noblest specimens of this class ot poetry are Gray’s “Elegy Written in a a Country Church-yard ” and Tennyson’s “In Memoriam.” A Pastoral is a tale, sone, or drama, posed to have been recited, sung, or per- formed by shepherds. ‘This form of poetry vas very popular in ancient times, Didactic poetry is that which is written for the avowed purpose of conveying a moral. apbell’s “Pleasures of Hope,” ‘Tnompson’s “ Seasons,” and Pope’s “Essay on Man,” are poems of this class. the Ode. The ode is the highestof moderr | lyricalcomposition. itis written in theloftiest | strain, filled with the noblest ideas, and seeks to inspire similar thoughts in the soul of the | reader. ‘To this class belong the hymns used | in religious worship. | the Fear. The Pean was a song of triumph sung by the ancients in honor of Apollo, on the occasion of avictory, or to the gods asa thanksgiving forthe cessation of cure of an evil. the Ballad, 'The Ballad is the simplest form of descriptive poetry, and is written in a pleasing style, so that it may be easily sung by those who have little acquaintance with music. theiz respective desert. Aregulardrama is an historical picture, in which we perccive unity of design, and compare every portion of the composition as harmonizing with the whole. Dramatic poetry includes tragedies, come- dies, melodramas, and operas. ; Lyric poetry is that style of verse which is written to accompany the lyre or other musi- calinstrument. ‘This class of poetry is the most popular, and embraces the songs of the vatious nations of the world. It includes Lhe Sonnet. The Sonnet is composed of fourteen lines or verses of equal length. It properly consists of fourteen iambic verses of eleven syllables, and is divided into two chief parts. ‘The first of these is composed of two divisions, each of four lines, called guatrains: the second of two divisions of three lines each, called ¢erzives. ‘The lines are so con- structed that the first eight contain but twa rhymes, and the last six but two more. In hymns odes, and sonnets. ‘ ss * ‘ the Srst part the first lire must rhvme wit} . mon ome lets ite a : tbs ES Pe eee ee en Oe eee WRT DR Pt Ne SD cea Raealaes Pete Ya Pah a ee PRE Sas em 7. Z : 4 a ig me ‘3 oe oe | ra 2 a ; a | # ‘ im | e 2° iS a a] | a ma a | a ae een a as eS a oH yy y “St i : a aif oe ae Smee Tre; z 4 A <] 4 b : a a é cs & € 2 : 4 a ee Sel etch Dietician he lacie ded aes ea tee . MAN 5 ‘ piaokbee A Bowron el teeta Ds = eh WOME at is to he a2 ru Pe le ESD Sofie Ae a Sati Mk Sk OS hae tee Pen . La 498 fitth, and eighth ; and the second the fourth, In the with the third, sixth, and seventh. second part the first, third, and fifth are made to rhyme with each other; and the second with the fourth and sixth. The following will show the construction of the sonnet : First time he kissed me, but he only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white. Slow to world greetings . . quick with its ‘Oh list t:’ When the angels speak. A ring of atnethyst I could not wear here, Than that first kiss. The second passed in height The first, and sought the forehe< id, and half missed, Half falling on the hi air. O beyond meed ! That was the chrism of love, which loye’s owl plainer to my sight, crown, With sanctifying sweetness, did precede. The third upon my lips was folded down In perfect, purple state ; since when, indeed, I had been proud, and ah ‘My love, my own.”’ The Cantata is a composition, or song, of a musical character, containing recitatives and airs, aud may be adapted to a single voice, or to many singers. The Canzonet is a short song, containing one, two, or three parts. The Charade. 1 poetry the charade is a composition, the subject of which is a word | of two syllables, each forming a distinct word. These syllables are concealed in an enligmat- description, first separately, and then together. ‘he charade is always a source of amusement when the idea e2 “cessed in language is acted out The Madigral. 'This isa short lyric poem, adapted te iat happy and pleasing It contains | spoken before the commencement of a thoughts on the subject of love. notless than four, nor more than sixteen MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. To a Lady of the County of Lancasser, with a Write Rose. If this fair rose offend thy sight, Placed in thy bosom fair, 'T will blush to find itself less white, And turn Lancastrian there. But if thy ruby lip it spy, As kiss it thou may’st deign, With envy pale ’twill lose its dye, And Yorkish turn again. 4 The Epigram. ‘This is a short poem. treating of a single subject, and closing witk some ingenious and witty thought, which 1s rendered interesting by being unexpected. An epigram should be concise. Its point often rests upon a witticism or verbal pun; but the better class of epigrams are marked by fineness and delicacy rather than by smart ness or repartee. The Impromptu. ‘This is a poem written on the instant, without previous thought ot preps aration. The Acrostic is a poem in which the ini- tial lines of each line, taken in order from the top te the bottom, make up a word or phrase, generally a person’s name or motto. The following is an example: thou’rt false! I hate thy flattering F—riendship, smile ! R—eturn to me those years I spent in vain. I—n early youth the victim of thy guile, R—ack joy took wing ne’er to return ag ain— N- ing to return ; for, chilled by hopes deceived; D—ully the slow p coat hours now move along, S—o ohne the time, when, thoughtless, I believed H—er honeyed words, and heard her syren song. [—f e’er, as me, she lure some youth to stray, P—erhaps, before too late, he’ll listen to my lay. The Prologue. ‘This is a short poerr | dramatic performance, and is designed as an | introduction to the play. | The Epilogue isa short poem spoken by one of the actors after the close of a dramatiz verses of eleven syllables, with shorter verses interspersed, or of versesof eight syllables ir- regularly rhymed. The following is a fine example of the | performance, and sometimes recapitulates the madigral : incidents of the drama.ART QF WRITING POETRY. t jw tk 499 fhe Parody is a ludicrous imitation in | employed to designate the various styles of s of eon ae i Be 5 verse Or some serious subject. psalms and hymns used. When each line of The Satire is a poem in which wicked. a stanza has eight syllables, it is called Long ness and folly are exposed with severity, and Metre. When the first and third lines have eight syllables, and the second and fourth have six syllables, it is called Common Metre, When the third line has eight, and the rest have six syllables, it is called Short Metre Stanzas in Particular Metre are of various d are held up to contempt. A satire should be general, not personal. Lhe Lampoon, or Pasquinade, is a personal attack in verse, and deals in abuse znd vitu- peration rather than in argument, ° Long and Common Metre, eée. kinds, and are not subject to definite rules. In English psalmody the words Long, articular Metre is rare, compared with “enmon, Short, and Particular Metre are Long, Common and Short. | | | | Weer Sea ea a ee cme ae "k he i ane SoS cee ie in NS * a a ‘ " es a ee a ee cas Cee OS RE Re ee Ree wm SE ee TM et id | Sid ~ 4 “| ; A : % bs q “4 ; . 7 i H ia > a | ~ 4 se B i * S| ee 8 i: ay ne 3 ny tl a & nm: ; < 4 3 3 i . Fi a F +4 r 5 . 3 Po) é BirKe + ats Pe eee noe ae ei Ronin che keciec teehee alas IAA eee Aas Meee eNO Dee cee tees eh WME eae is de es Bk ee 2 ss Sel beri Een on ete Reaees reas oT 4 NSS Sepia ee ee ae ee ef CHAPTER XLV- The Language and Sentimes ao flower world is linked with all the | ( finer sympathies of our nature. The | sweet blossoms that cover the green are the delight of our childhood ; t is the best ornament of girlish | beau- offering from young and | wood bouque ty: the meetest timid love. Flowers deck the chamber of | old age, and are the last sad git of sorrow I c | only * pity > ont of Flowers JonguiIL.—Have pity on my passion. RosE.—May you be pleased, and all you. sorrows be mine. . Srpraw.—Suffer me to be your slave The European flower-language was utile ized, and almost formed, by Aimé Martin ; and the earlier works on the subject were translations or ac laptations from the but English writers have 2 good | to the dead. | French: It was from the East that we obtained a | deal altered and modified it since; and as janguage of perfume and beauty which be- | new flowers come yearly to us from other | lands, every fresh vocabulary many contain stows a meaning on buds and_ blosson though the Turkish and Arabic foun | language does not much resemble ou Pt is formed, not by an idea or sentiment orig- flower itself, but by its capa- | city for rhy ming with another word ; that is, the word with which the flower rhymes | | | | ! inating in the becomes its signification. La Mottraie, the companion of Charles XIL., brought the Hastern language of | fowers to Europe; but it was the gifted | Lady Mary Wortley Montague who first | told the English-speaking world how the fir maidens of the East had lent a mute speech to flowers, and could send a letter by a bouquet. Here is part ofa Turkish love letter sent by her in a purse to a friend. She “There is no color, no says, speaking of it: | Foe no weed, no fruit, herb, pebble, or | feather, that has not a verse belonging to it; | and you may quarrel, reproach, or send let- | ters of passion, friendship, of civility, Or even of news, without even inking your | fingers.” In the letter the following flowers are e1r- ployed: KOO | examples of this additional words or sentences, even as out own tongue grows by grafts from other languages. ‘he vocabulary which is given below is believed to be complete in every respect. The Flower-Language. interesting correspondence may be main A very We give below several tained by means of bouquets. The message is given and then the the Aas needed in the bouguet. ‘ May maternal !ove protect your early youth in inne names of cence and joy ! Flowers neede d. Wei. cbc. wnbcioedleanesechemeuvensseees Valernal love. Bearded Crepis...ccerseeseeeesseerens Protect. Vi TOGO wik vaccd ob kawnnnneennceeeaeel Early Youth. i Se mre re - Innocence Wood Sorrel. ccscescvecstavsesses Joy. Your humility aud amiability have won my lo Flowers needed. Dh at) cc cic ccs cinan aunt Humility. White Jasmiine......ceeeeeeeereree reed {mioholety Love Let the bonds of marriage unite us. Hluwers needed. Blue Convol vulus. ...-.ceeeeeseeeees Bonds. IVY cos avuhe cay la¥e sd eeieeameieses ee Marriage A fev whole StrawSee...ercceres ve NUE 7Sa 4. Modifications of the Flower Language. AREWELL. ; : ; Farewells give me good wishes. Forget menot. | If a flower be Siven reversed, Us original Flowers needed. | Signification is understood to be contradicted, Sprig of Spruce Fir.......... reves Lavewell, | and the opposite meaning to be implied. Sweet Basil......... titteesveresecseee GIVE Me your good : . a Pics A rosebud divested of its thorns, but re- Forget-Me-Not.......0..ccccceee sees forget me not. taining 1ts leaves, convey the sentiment, “} ag ees 5. | tear no longer; I hope;” thorns signify fears ae aie courage, and fidelity merit ever- ( and leaves hopes. ting remembrance. ° i s Fees nesden Stripped of leaves and thorns, the bud PV ASUMICLINU I ccsccspevcsccoccscesce esvecce Patriotest signifies, ‘“There 1S nothing to hope or fear.” ENC AV CS 2, covsccees:+cs¢cececcccencs Courage. The expression of flowers is also varied by Heliotrope...... eosin. Dive ceases “de lity. ei . ee oe 3 : Be OTO} Liaeality | Changing their positions. Place a marigold Everlasting, or Iinmortelles.....2verlasting YEMEMm= | no - S : CGN: Pe Gr). Pine | on the head, and itsignifies “Mental anguish; ie on the bosom, “ Indifference.” A Red Rose....... eee: Bese eas odes f love you. : ° = ‘ 5 When a flower is given, the pronoun / is AN IMPERTINENCE. Your insincerity and avarice make me hate you Flowers needed Cherry Blossom, or Foxglove... /nsincevity BOAMe A ILICUIA... 0d.cesccc+ecees. Avarite. PACA pases a irsscrcesssencesssoss flatred. 3. A WARNING. Beware of deceit. Danger is near. Depart. Flowers needed. Ne eee ast bisseesseccoues oc: Beware. WGN 0) Deceit. PSO OWATOU, 5 icccccssesessoessce: Danger 48 near. Be eve cccrtossssceeseseen Depart. 9. A REBUKE. Your frivolity and malevolence will cause you tobe forsaken by all. Flowers needed, WOMGOM TICS. 82,2-..,........... »- LYLUOLLY. OO en. cic vewese ne Malevolence. Be NVI 5 oe oes ou onece sie. Forsaken. 10. Be assured of my sympathy. May you and conso- lation ! flowers needed. UC Be assured of my sym- pathy. Oy ees sesasvnes Consolation. By foresight you will surmouut your difficulties. Flowers needed. Bolly, ..2.. Pena s oe tycn einen: Foresight. 3 5 = ® Be ayee! ecavacssvivesesve YOU will surmount your difficulties. SHE LANGUAGE AND SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS, understood by bending it to the tight hand: thou, by inclining it to the left. “Yes,” is implied by touching the flower | given with the lips. A No? aby, pinching off a petal and cast ing it away. “I aim,” is expressed by alaurel-leaftwisted ; round the bouquet. fee I have,” by an ivy-leaf folded together, “I offer you,” by a leaf of the Virginiay THE VOCABULARY. BDECCOATY oc sseecne ne ane gee Volubtlity. Abatina: ....<. Sao sta Nay dao ones e 8212 fickleness. ACACIA ry ion peee eno aren dea Friendshi. | Acacia, Rose or White............Aeguticc. | Acacia, Vellow. 5 ee Secret love. ACANTHUS. sipecioncsce ee peeees seca The fine arts. Artijice (i Acalta, 0c cn meee ee Temperance. | Achillea Millefolia.....scecsccsses. War. | Achimenes Cupreata......0c0...-..5SUCh worth 18 rare. | Aconite (Wolfsbane)............... Misanthropy. Acontite, CrowiOOtisscec.cscrcs. se Lustre. Adonis HIOSSa. fescenit.cessccces Sad memories. | African: Marigold. i030). ce ties.sy: Vulgar minds. | Apmis Casts: fee 82s iis Coldness. Indifference. | AGTIRIGIY Es iser cca niicocne. 6 8 Thankfulness. Graty | tude. | Almond (Common).....c-cseee. Stupidity. Indiscretion. Almond: (Blowerinig)::z..5sie0. te. flope. Almiomay Wyaurelsc.sisi.+senecstceae Perfidy. f Allspigeiiaryiiyssisscasboeeks reves vee COMpassion, Or ad A ee on en Ce oN S Re ee ee Ss Se te © ener a S325 Red ca aececd Re ee a eagnaae Mi - ses ee wR a EATS KE RP BOIL PIED, LD. ob BG BEi | | \ | io aaah. ibe ae ee a 502 M Grief. Religious su- perstition. Althea Frutex (Syrian Mallow) ) Persuasion. Alyssum (Sweet)...--ssseeerserrre Worth beyond beauty. Amaranth (Glob be) sssesescesereeeceeL ME nortality. Unfad- ing love ceseeePoppery. Affectation. Pride. Timidity. Spleie did beauty. esvssenedove returned. a4 &i9e.... ecutececacczessopecsererc® AMATLLIS..coceseeeresereseesrresrreres AMDIOSIA....occcceecesees American CowsSlip....s.coesereeeees Divine beauty. American Hlm......-. Sos eat te eee Patriotism. American Lindet.......secoeres Matrimony. American StarwoOttecesrsscsvercrees Welcome to &@ Stranger Cheerfulness in old age. Amethyst Wheeeeceosesoceoes cconeccoeeteeeAAMiration. Andromeda. ....eesseseceessoneecees Self-sacrifice. Anemone (Zephyr Flower)......Sickmeéss. Expectaiion. Anemone (Garden).....scssee++LOrsaken. Angelica....... ee ee 2.0. LSpiraiion, ¢* mage. ANGTEC ....-.+- ee ee iieeesties AL OVAL. Apricot (Blossom)....1sseseeeees Doubt. Apple....cocccsscceees ec focacece L CHLPLALUON. Apple (Blossom)... es Preference. Fame speaks him great and £00. Apple, THort.......sccseseeerre: Deceitful charms. Apocynum Moe se) Deceit. Dlg NAcc cecdic csv on-so-s»-. JUCHONG Ing frienda- ship. Live for me. Arum (Wake Robin)......... ceed vador. Leal. Ash-leaved ‘Trumpet Flower... Separation. Ash Mountain....ccesssccccccesosseee- PUAENCE, OF With me you are Safe. Ash TYEE...-.:0+>+ Pec Grandeur. Aspen Tree.-ercsssscsseeeeeees Sree Rak Lamentation, or fear. Aster (Chitta)....:sseccosese-sereeees Variety. Afterthought. Asphodel...... dieeadcseerececsass JY FELVELS Follow you to the grave. MTiCttlas ceca ees er eter aieeuas Painting. Auricula, Scarlet.........-- oe Avarice. Pe ~ : See MCs pecs cave s--nnnv sand CINPCTANCE. Bachelor’siButtons..........- rovers CLLOQL¥. Baltt...cse scssceee Deis ies oscar OV IPALNY. Balin, Getitle.....ccscccsooseceeeceers .. Pleasantyy. Balm of Gilead...... ee ee CUTE. “elie, Balsam, Red........0e- Fics ais veces LOUCH me not. Impa- tient resolves. Balsam, Yeilow........ Facies diese EPOLICNCe. Barberry--.ceeeseeeeeess sdanescarease DAV DNESS OF Teniper. Be oi ols cae con whe edn sao ss ee sv P LACE GO. Bay Leaf........s0.0.-0++- A eae ft change bui in death. Bay (Rose) Rhododendroa...... Danger. Bebive: rN ST ea aa a a | | } | | | MANUAL OF PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. Bay TLEE. cccsesecccccoscceceer sieslens OE Bay Wreack...cssessesrsesessonees Reward of meres, Bearded Crepis.....-- sesvocenece ned UOCELIUO ME Beech Tree.....-ss22+ scaeeeerete = ... Lrosperity. Bee Orchirs.....seececoe reece reesesen ees Industry. Bee OphryS...---scsccecessoeeeees LYVOr. Begonia....--. o. ee a as Beauty always new. Chinese Chrysanthemum......... Cheerfulness under ad- versity. Chorozema Varium....... oh ae You have many lovers. CUSSED Ons Relieve my anxiety. Chrysanthemum, Red............. I love. thrysanthemum, White.......... Truth. Chrysanthemum, Vellow......... Slighted love. NCTE yo .... Always delightful. MC cele ssse no o00 sens Maternal affection. OEE, Spell. Besa Unpretending excel- 503 Cistus; Guin: see 5 eeres TL shall die to-morrow, Citron. ....:., Mapes cotee seer Ll-natured beauty. CL aTACIE Sscisceces ts tase is teue eee ee variety of your conversation delighis Cistus, or Rock Rose......:.00000/ 0hular favor. \ oun me. Cl CMIa IIS Foote. oon ee he ea ROH beauty. Clematis, Evergreen............... Poverty. Ghantise 2c yoccteerre hese tsas e Worldliness, Self-seeie ing. lotbuinns oe a ieee Rudeness. Pertinacity, ClOVeS) 2b es eens: Ge seccr scat Dignity. Clover? Foursleaveds:..... 4... Be mine. Clover, Red Steers ce: L[ndustry. Clover, Wihitetgie..-.2) ao. Lhink of me. COD224, ior. s ss eee ua ce ene nise Gossip. Cockscomb, Amaranth............ foppery. Affectation. Singularity. Colchicum, or Meadow Saffron. Wy best days are past. COMSIOOE ic) 01... cc deus ean skeadeceass/ USLICE SHOLL DEO Columbine nn. esse 6 oes: Folly. Columbine, Purples... Resolved to win. Coltumbine;. Red..saciis< reer Anxious and treni- bling. Convolvyulus........ ee eee Bonds. Convolvulus, Blue (Minor)...... Repose. Night. Convolyilus, Major. ...0.0.-:<..- Latinguished hopes. Convolyulus, Pinkie... cscens0s Worth sustained by Fu- dicious and tender affection. COPCHOLUS: .60..c.ccsccecassqaensds p> } } o~ \ he Be . ‘ p> ey sas Oo oO t>’ ~ » > > PP Pp re Affirm, swear, assert, asseverate, declare, aver Affirmation, asseveration, protestation. Affix, attach, annex, subjoin, connect, adjoin. Afterwards, hereafter, subsequently. ’ Age, period, time, date, generation, era, epock Aged, old, elderly, senile, anil : Agency, instrumentality, influence, operation Agerandize, exalt, promote, prefer, advance. Agegravate, tantalize, irritate, inflatne, provoke Aggregate, total, entire, complete, thi “whole Aggression, encroachment, assault, attack. Agitation, perturbation, emotion, trepidation Agonize, distress, rack, torture, writhe. Agony, anguish, pang, throe, pain, distress. Agree, consent, accede, acquiesce, comply. Agreeable, gratifying, pleasant, pleasing. Agreement, concurrence, coincidence, concoré Aid, help, assist, co-operate, relieve, succor. Aid, assistance, support, sustenance, succor Ailing, unwell, sickly, diseased, ill. Aim, direct, point, level, endeavor to attain. Alleviate, assuage, mitigate, soothe, solace. Alliance, affinity, union, connection, relation | Allot, assign, apportion, appropriate, appoint. oO Veos SYNONYMS OF THE Aiiow, admit, concede, yield, grant, give. Allowance, pay, wages, grant, stipend, salary. Allude, hint, refer, insinuate, imply, glance at. Allure, entice, attract, decoy, tempt, seduce, Always, continually ever, perpetually. Amalgamate, join, compound, mix. Amass, accumulate, coliect, gather, heap up. Amazing, astonishing, wondrous, surprising. Ambiguous, equivocal, uncertain, vague. Ameliorate, improve, amendment, better. Amenable, responsible, accountable. Amend, mend, better, improve, correct, rectify. Amends, compensation, recompense. Amiable, loving, pleasing, envaging. Amicable, friendly, social, sociable. Ample, complete, full, wide, spacious. Anchorite, hermit, recluse, ascetic. Ancient, old-fashioned, old, antique, obsolete. Anguish, woe, agony, pain, distress, suffering. Animating, inspiring, exhilarating, inspiriting. Animating, life, vivacity, spirit, elasticity. Annals, chronicles, revorts, historical accounts. Annex, add, attach, affix, append, subjoin. Annihilate, destroy, annul, extinguish, nullify. Annoyance, troubie, uneasiness, discomfort. Anomalous, irregular, abnormal, eccentric. Answerable, responsible, accountable. Antagonism, hostility, animosity, enmity. Antagonist, opponent, adversary, enemy. Antagonistic, hostile, opposite, adverse. Anticipate, forestall, foretaste, prejudge. Antithesis, contrast, opposition. Anxiety, care, solicitude, attention. Apathetic, insensible, impassive, insensitive. Ape, mimic, mock, imitate. Apocryphal, uncertain, unauthentic. Appeal, refer, invoke, invocate, call upon. Appearance, air, look, aspect, manner, mien. Appellation, name, denomination, cognomien. Applaud, praise, extol, commend, approve. Applause (see Acclaniation). Apportion, distribute, allot, appropriate. Appreciate, value, reckon, prize, esteem. Approbation, approval, concurrence, assent. Appropriate, peculiar, particular, exclusive. Approval, assent, approbation, concurrence. Arbitrator, arbiter, judge, umpire, referee. Ardent, eager, fervid, hot, fiery, glowing. Argue, discuss, dispute, debate. Arise. ascend, mount, scale, tower. Arouse, stir up, awaken, vivify, excite. Array, rank, order, disposal, disposition. Arrest, stop, apprehend, withhold, keep back. Arrogance, assumption, haughtiness, pride. Ascend, climb, mount, rise, soar, tower, scale. Asperity, acrimony, acerbity, harshness. Asperse, accuse falsely, malign, slander. Assault, assail, attack, invade, encounter. Assemble, congregate, collect, gather, muster. Assembly, assemblage, collection, group. Assent, consent, accede, acquiesce, comply. Assert, affirm, declare, aver, protest, maintain. Assign, adduce, allege, advance. Assist, help, aid, co-operate, relieve, succor. Assume, pretend to, arrogate, usurp. Assurance, confidence, certainty. ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Attachment, affection, devotedness, devetion. Attract, draw to, allure, entice, charm. Attractive, winning, charming, captivating. Attribute, quality, property, grace. Audacious, assuming, forward, presumptuous. Augment, increase, enlarge, extend. August, majestic, noble, dignified, stately, Auspices, protection, favor, patronage. Auspicious, fortunate, favorable, propitivus. Austere, rigid, severe, rigorous, stern, harsh, Authoritative, commanding, swaying. Authorized, accredited, empowered. Avarice, covetousness, cupidity, greediness. Averse, adverse, hostile, reluctant, unwillin Aversion, dislike, antipathy, hatred. Avocation, employment, calling, business. Avow, declare, acknowledge, recognize, own Awaken, arouse, stir up, excite, vivify. Award, adjudge, adjudicate, judge, determine Aware, known, sensible, conscious, cognizant Awkward, rough, clumsy, unpolished. Awry, crooked, wry, bent, curved, inflected. g & BAD, wicked, evil, unsound, unwholesonie. Baffle, defeat, discomfit, bewilder. Balance, poise, weigh, neutralize, counteract. Balmy, fragrant, sweet-scented, odoriferous. Bear, hold up, sustain, support, endure, carry- Bearing, manner, deportment, demeanor. Beastly, brutish, brutal, sensual. Beat, strike, knock, hit, belabor, thump, dash. Beau, sweetheart, wooer, lover, suitor, fop. Beautiful, elegant, beauteous, handsome, fair. Beautify, adorn, decorate, embellish, deck. Becoming, befitting, comely, decent, fit, proper Beg, ask, entreat, crave, solicit, beseech. Beginning, commencement, outset, opening. Beguile, amuse, entertain, deceive, mislead. Behavior, conduct, carriage, demeanor. Benefaction, gift, donation, alms, charity. Beneficent, benevolent, bountiful, bounteous. Benefit, advantage, good, profit, service. Benevoience, beneficence, benignity, kindness. Benign, benignant, benevolent, kind, gracious. Bent, inclination, disposition, tendency, bias. a Bereave, deprive, strip, dispossess, disarm. s Beseech, beg, entreat, crave, solicit, implore. Beset, surround, encompass, embarrass. Betimes, early, soon, shortly, ere long. Betoken, augur, presage, forebode, bode. Bile, choler, anger, rage, fury, indignation. Bind, tie, restrain, connect, link. Binding, astringent, costive, valid, obligatory. Bitter, harsh, pungent, poignant, stinging. Black, dark, murky, pitchy, inky, cimmerian, Blacken, defame, calumniate, slander. : Blamable, culpable, censurable, reprehensible. Blame, reprove, reprehend, censure, condeniy Blameless, inculpable, guiltless, sinless. Bland, soft, gentle, mild, kind, gracious. Blank, confused, confounded, dumbfounded. Blend, mix, amalgamate, mingle, commingle Blessedness, bliss, happiness, felicity. Blind, sightless, eyeless, unseeing. Bliss, ecstacy, felicity, blessedness. Blithe, gay, blithesome, cheerful, merry. Astonishing, surprising, wonderful, striking. Athletic, stalwart, powerful, brawny. Atrocious, heinous, enormous, flagrant. Attach, affix, append, subjoin, annex, adjoin, ame eS Blockhead, dunce, dolt, dullard, numskult. Bloody, gory, sanguinary, ensanguined. Bloodshed, carnage, slaughter, butchery. Bloom, blossom, bud, sprout, germinate. a a Ra > A ros Ae ae A sab acadeatatelien d's PS 7 ee S38. URS ee ee Cee * nN este Tor) wees SRS ak a al ieee bo —~ ae a wo = —— si 3 | x ; i i : : : Se kee eo a ROO N en e a 4 noi os = Pa eeeent ee a ol See et i a ‘ _& | , ; y 3 t H | Ge (A Sek AR at dae aE Sal ee By al Ce Sabet iy B7E =SNCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION, Blot, stain, blur, speck, flaw, blemish, defect. Blot owt, wipe out, erase, expunge, delete. Bluff, blustering, burly, swaggering, hectoring. Blunder, mistake, error, delusion. Blunt, pointless, obtuse, edgeless, unpolite. Border, edge, brim, rim, verge, brink, margin. Bordering on, contiguous to, conterminous with. Bound, limit, circumscribe, confine, restrict. Boundless, unlimited, unbounded, infinite. Bounty, munificence, liberality, generosity. Brand, stigmatize, denounce, mark. Bravado, brag, boast, boasting, vaunting. Brave, courageous, gallant, chivalrous. Brief, short, concise, compendious, succinct, Bright, clear, lucid, transparent, limpid. Brisk, active, agile, nimble, lively, quick. Brittle, fragile, frangible, frail. Broad, wide, large, ample, expanded. Broil, affray, fray, feud, quarrel, brawl. Broken-hearted, disconsolate, inconsolable. Brook, endure, suffer, bear, submit to. Brotherly, fraternal, affectionate, kind. Bruise, Lreak, crush, squeeze, pulverize. Brunt, shock, onset, assault, attack. Burden, load, encumber, embarrass. Burdensome, heavy, weighty, ponderous, bulky. Burning, glowing, ardent, fervid, impassioned, Burst, break, crack, split, rend. Bury, inter, inhume, entomb, immure. By-and-by, anon, shortly, ere long, soon. Bystander, onlooker, spectator, beholder. CABAL, combination, intrigue, faction. Cajole, coax, wheedle, flatter, fawn. Calamitous, disastrous, fatal, unfortunate. Calculate, reckon, guess, suppose, compute. Call back, retract, recant, recall, revocate. Callous, hard, obdurate, impenitent, unfeeling. Calm, tranquillize, allay, appease, quict, hush. Calumniate, vilify, revile, accuse falsely. Caprice, freak, whim, humor, crotchet, fase 5 Captious, touchy, testy, cross, petulant. Captivate, charm, enchant, fascinate, enrapture Captivity, imprisonment, confinéwsant. Capture, catch, seize, grasp, arrest, apprehend. Care, anxiety, solicitude, concern, attention. Carcer, history, course, race, passage, life. Carnal, fleshly, sensual, voluptuous, luxurious. Carriage, walk, bearing, deportment, gait. Carry, bear, sustain, convey, transport. Carry on, conduct, manage, regulate, direct. Case, condition, state, circumstance, plight. Cast down, discouraged, downcast, dejected. Cast off, reject, forsake, abandon, discard. Casualty, accident, contingency, incident. Catalogue, list, roll, record, inventory, index Cede, give up, surrender, relinquish, quit. Celebrate, commend, applaud, laud, extol. Celebrated, famous, renowned, far-famed. Celerity, quickness, speed, rapidity, velocity. felestial, heavenly, divine, godlike, seraphic, Tensure, blame, reprehend, reprobate Ceremony, form, observance, rite, solemnity. Certain, sure, indubitable, unquestionable. Certify, testify, vouch, declare. Change, alter, vary, transform, exchange. Changeable, variable, unsteady, undecided. Cheracter, cast, turn, tone, description. Characteristic, peculiar to, sign of, feature. Characterize, name, designate, denominate. j — Charge, accuse, impeach, arraigr, inculpate. Charity, kindness, benignity, beneficence. Charm, enchant, fascinate, bewitch, eurapturé. Cheerless, brokenhearted, comfortless. Cherish, nourish, nurture, nurse, foster, Chide, reprove, rebuke, reprimand. Chief, principal, main, supreme, paramount, Choice, rare, select, option. Choose, prefer, select, elect, call, pick. Chronicle, record, register, enrol. Circuitous, roundabout, tortuous, flexuous, Circulate, spread, diffuse, disseminate. Civilize, polish, humanize, cultivate, refine. Claim, ask, demand, challenge, cai! for, plead. Clamor, outcry, fuss, noise, hubbub, uproar. Clandestine, hidden, secret, private. Class, order, rank, degree, grade, category. Clause, stipulation, proviso, term, article. Clean, cleanse, clarify, purify. Clear, absolve, acquit, liberate, deliver, release Clearly, palpably, obviously, distinctly. Clemency, leniency, mercy, mildness. Clever, skillful, expert, dexterous, adroit. Climb, get up, scale, mount, soar, tower- Clumsy, awkward, unpolished, uncourtly. Clutch, grasp, lay hold on, catch, seize, grip. Coagulate, thicken, concrete, clot, curdle. Coalition, union, alliance, confederacy. Coarse, rough, rude, rugged, gruff, harsh. Coax, cajole, wheedle, flatter. Coeval, contemporaneous, contemporary. Cogent, forcible, strong, valid, irresistable. Coincide, agree, correspond, concur. Coincide nce, concurrence, correspondence. Colleague, fellow, compeer, companion. Collect, gather, assemble, muster, congregate. Combat, engagement, conflict, contest, fight. Combination, alliance, union, league. Comely, becoming, decent, seemly, agreeable Comfort, solace, console, encourage, revive. Comfortless, cheerless, forlorn, disconsolate. Comic, funny, laughable, droll, ludicrous. Command, order, decree, injunction, mandate Commence, begin, enter upon. Commend, praise, applaud, extol, eulogize. Commendable, praiseworthy, laudable. Comment, observation, remark, annotation. Commerce, dealing, trade, intercourse. Company, association, society, assembly. Companion, comrade, coadjutor, partner, ally Comparison, simile, similitude, illustration. Compass, encircle, environ, encompass. Compassion, pity, commmiseration, sympathy. Compassionate, kind, merciful, clement. Compatible, consistent, consonant, accordant. Compel, force, constrain, coerce, enforce. Compendious, brief, short, succinct, concise. Complaint, malady, disease, distemper. Complete, accomplish, fulfil, realize, execute. Complex, compound, complicated, involved. Complexion, aspect, appearance, feature. Complicated, complex, compound, involved. Compliment, praise, flatter, adulate, applauc Comply, yield, accede, assent, consent. Compose, form, compound, put together. Composed, serene, placid, calm, collected. Compound, complex, complicated, intricate. Comprehend, comprise, take in, embrace. Comprehension, capacity, capability. Comprehensive, extensive, broad, wideSYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. fonceited, proud, vain, egotistical. Conceive, think of, imagine, suppose. Conception, notion, idea, thought, perception. Concern, affair, business, matter, care, regard. Concerning, respecting, regarding, relative to. Concert, contrive, devise, design, matage, Concerted, joint co-operation, designed. Concise, brief, short, succinct. Conclude, end, close, finish, terminate. Conclusion, end, upshot, event, inference, Condense, compress, press, squeeze, contract. Condition, state, plight, case, predicament. Condolence, sympathy, commiseration, Conduce, contribute, subserve, incline, tend. Conducive, furthering, promoting, auxiliary. Conduct, behavior, demeanor, deportment. Conduct, guide, lead, direct, manage. Confederate, accomplice, accessory, abettor. Confer, bestow, give, discourse, converse. Conference, meeting, conversation, talk. Confess, acknowledge, avow, own, recognize. Confide, trust, repose, depend, rely. Confused, muddled, mixed, bewildered. Confusion, disorder, derangement, chaos. Confute, refute, disprove, belie, Congregate, assemble, collect, gather, muster. Conjecture, guess, surmise, supposition. Conjure, adjure, beseech, entreat, implore. Connect, join, link, bind. Connected, joined, related, akin, kindred. Connection, union, alliance, coalition. Consequence, effect, result, event, issue. Consider, reflect, regard, ponder, deliberate Considerate, thoughtful, reflective, prudent Consistent, consonant, compatible. Console, solace, comfort, soothe. Conspicuous, distinguished, noted. Constancy, firmness, stability, steadittess. Constantly, ever, always, continually. Constitute, make, form, compose, mould. Constitutional, legal, regulated, organized. Constrain, compel, force, coerce, impel. Construct, build, make, erect, compile. Construction, interpretation, version. Contemptible, mean, vile, despicable, pitiful. Contemptuous, disdainful, scornful, insolent. Contend, contest, debate, argue, dispute, cope. Contention, strife, discord, discussion, wrangle. Contest, combat, conflict, fight, competition. Contiguous, adjacent, adjoining, nextto. Contingency, casualty, accident, incident. Continual, unceasing, incessant, continuous. Contract, agreement, compact, bargain. Contradict, oppose, deny, gainsay, controvert. Contrary, adverse, opposite, antagonistic. Contribute, give to, co-operate, conspire. Contrition, repentance, penitence, remorse. Contrivance, plan, device, scheme, design. Control, check, curb, repress, restrain, govern. Controversy, debate, contest, discussion. Convene, call together, bring together, convoke. Convenient, commodious, suitable, adaptea. Convention, assembly, meeting, convocation. Conventional, usual, ordinary, fashionable. Conve.sant, acquainted with, familiar. Conversation, dialogue, conference, talk. ouverse, reverse, opposite, discourse. Copy, model, pattern, imitation, transcript. Corporal, corporeal, bodily, material, physica’ Corpulent, portly, stout, lusty, plethoric. 37 577 Correct, accurate, exact, precise, proper. Correction, discipline, punishment. Correspond, fit, tally, answer, suit. Correspondence, letters, intercourse. Correspondent, similar, counterpart, suitabie, Costly, expensive, valuable, precious. Council, assembly, company, con gress, meeting. Counsel, advise, instruction, intelligence. Count, calculate, compute, reckon, estimate. Countenance, encourage, support, confirm. Counterfeit, spurious, forged, imitated, false. Counterpart, converse, adverse, correspondent Countless, innumerable, numberless. Courage, resolution, fortitude, fearlessness. Course, way, road, route, passage, race. Crafty, cunning, artful, sly, subtle, wily. Crave, beg, entreat, solicit, beseech, implore. Crazy, crack-brained, imbecile, foolish. Create, make, form, cause, produce, generate. Credence, belief, faith, confidence. Credential, missive, diploma, title, testament. Credit, belief, trustworthiness, reputation. Credulity, gullibility, simplicity. Crest, top, summit, apex, head, crown. Critical, nice, exact, fastidious, precarious, Criticize, examine, scan, analyze, discuss. Cross, ill-tempered, fretful, ill-humored. Crude, raw, undigested, unconsidered. Cruel, savage, barbarous, inhuman. Cupidity, meanness, avarice, stinginess. Curb, restrain, hold, check, moderate. Curiosity, inquisitiveness, interest, rarity. Curious, inquiring, inquisitive, searching. Curse, malediction, anathema, bane, blight. Cursory, summary, rapid, superficial. Custody, keeping, guardianship, conservation DARK, black, dusty, sable, swarthy, opaque. Dash, hurl, cast, throw, drive, rush, send, fly. Dauntless, valiant, gallant, fearless, intrepid. Dawn, gleam, begin, rise, open, break. Dead, defunct, deceased, departed, gone. Deaf, disinclined, averse, inexorable, insensible. Death, departure, demise, decease. Debt, liability, default, obligation. Decay, decline, wane, dwindle, waste, ebb. Decayed, rotten, corrupt, unsound. Deceit, cheat, imposition, trick, delusion. Deceive, trick, cheat, beguile, delude, mislead. Decide, determine, settle, adjudicate. Decipher, read, spell, interpret, solve. Decision, determination, conclusion. Declaim, speak, debate, harangue, recite. Declamation, oratory, elocution, harangue. Declaration, avowal, manifestation. Declivity, descent, fall, slope, incline. Default, lapse, forfeit, omission, absence. Defeat conquer, overcome, worst, rout- Defect, imperfection, flaw, fault, blemish. Defence, excuse, plea, vindication, bulwark. Defend, guard, protect, justify. Defer, delay, postpone, put off, prorogue. Deference, respect, honor, attention. Deficient, short, wanting, inadequate, scanty. Defile, pollute, corrupt, sully. Define, fix, settle, determine, limit. Definite, precise, exact, correct, fixed. Deformity, ugliness, disfigurement. Deliberate. consider, meditate, consult, pondes, Delicacy, nicety, dainty, refinement, tact. 55S eg ce ARTA Mal age Knee taatatodnd ee ue Pad KI Ee bi | ee e . i‘ a Ae cme ee eee Fe aN a ne eee a ame RS CES eS Ra a a RAEI.ca ete ve ee Ee at as tee ak es ee : 3 Hi 4 } i i ; M : c 573 ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Detight, enjoyment, pleasure, happiness. Deliver, liberate, free, rescue, pronounce. Demonstrate, prove, show, exhibit, illustrate. Denude, strip, divest, lay bare. Deny, refuse, reject, withhold, negative. Depart, leave, quit, go, decamp, start, sally. Department, section, division, office, branch. Deprive, strip, bereave, despoil, rob, divest. Depute, appoint, commission, charge, entrust. Deputy, vicegerent, lieutenant, representative. Desire, longing, affection, craving. Desist, cease, stop, discontinue, drop, abstain. Desolate, bereaved, forlorn, forsaken, deserted. Despair, hopelessness, despondency. Desperate, wild, daring, audacious, determined. Destine, purpose, intend, design, devote. Destination, purpose, intention, design. Destiny, fate, decree, doom, end. Deter, warn, stop, dissuade, disspirit. Detract, lessen, deteriorate, depreciate. Detriment, loss, harm, injury, deterioration. Detrimental, injurious, hurtful, pernicious. Develop, enunciate, amplify, expand, enlarge. Device, artifice, expedient, contrivance. Devious, tortuous, circuitous, roundabout. Devoid, void, wanting, destitute, unendowed. Devolve, impose, place, charge, commiissio: Devoted, attached, fond, absorbed, dedicated. Devotion, piety, devoutness, religiousness. Deyour, eat, consume, swallow, gorge, bolt. Dictate, prompt, suggest, enjoin, order. Dilapidation, ruin, decay, disintegration. Dilate, stretch, widen, expand, swell, distend. Dilatory, tardy, procrastinating, lagging. Diligence, care, assiduity, attention, heed. Dimension, measuremicut, size, configuration. Diminish, lessen, reduce, contract, curtail. Dingy, dim, dull, dusky, rusty, colorless. Discernment, discrimination, penetration. Discipline, order, strictness, training, coercion. Disclose, discover, reveal, confess, detect. Discomfort, disquiet, vexation, annoyance. Disconcert, abash, confna, confound, upset. Disconsolate, sad, forlorn, ‘nelancholy, woeful. Discover, make known, find, invent, contrive. Discredit, disgrace, disrepute, dishonor. Discreditable, shameful, disgraceful. Discreet, cautious, prudent, wary. Discrepancy, disagreement, difference. Discrimination, acuteness, discernment. Discuss, argue, sift, debate, examine. Disdain, contempt, scorn, haughtiness. Dismay, terrify, frighten, scare, daunt, appal. Dismay, terror, dread, fear, fright. Dismiss, send off, discharge, discard, banish. Disorder, disease, malady, complaint. Disorderly, irregular, confused, lawless. Disown, renounce, deny, disclaim, ignore. Dispel, scatter, drive away, disperse. Display, show, spread out, exhibit, expose. Displease, offend, vex, anger, provoke, irritate. Dispose, arrange, place, order, give, bestow. Dispute, argue, contest, contend, question. Distance, int -rval, remoteness, space. Distinct, clear, plain, xbvious. different. Distinguish, perceive, ciscern, ark ant. Distinguished, famous, glorious, far-famea, Distract, disturb, perplex, bewilder, madden. Distress, trouble, pain, afflict, grieve, seize. Distribute, allot. share, dispense, apportion. District, country, region, quarter, clime, Disturb, derange, discompose, agitate, rous, Divert, please, gratify, amuse, entertain. Divide, part, separate, distribute, deal out. Divine, godlike, holy, heavenly, sacred. Do, effect, make, perform, accomplish, finish, Docile, tractable, teachable, compliant, tame. Doctrine, tenet, articles of belief, creed, dogma. Doleful, dolorous, rueful, dismal, piteous. Doom, sentence, verdict, judgment, fate, lot. Drill, train, teach, discipline, perforate, bore. Drive, force, urge, press, ccmpel, guide, direct. Droll, funny, laughable, comic, whimsical. Drown, inundate, swamp, submerge. Drowsy, sleepy, heavy, dozy. Dry, arid, parched, lifeless, dull, tedious. Due, owing to, attributable to, just, fair. Dull, stupid, gloomy, sad, dismal. Dupe, trick, beguile, gull, cheat, deceive. Durable, lasting, permanent, abiding. Dutiful, obedient, submissive, respectful. EARN, acquire, obtain, win, gain, achieve. Earnest, ardent, serious, grave, solemn, warm. Earthly, sordid, selfish, venal, mercenary. Ease, calm, alleviate, allay, mitigate, appease. Eccentric, irregular, anomalous, singular, odd. Eclipse, shade, overcast, cloud. | Economical, sparing, saving, provident. anti Edge, border, brink, rim, brim, margin, verge. Efface, blot out, expunge, obliterate. Effect, consequence, result, issue, event. Effective, efficient, operative, serviceable. Eloquence, oratory, rhetoric, declamation. Elucidate, make plain, explain, clear up- Elude, evade, escape, avoid, shun. Embarrass, perplex, entangle, distress, trouble Embellish, adorn, decorate, bedeck, beautify. Embolden, inspirit, animate, encourage, cheer Embrace, clasp, hug, comprise, comprehend. Eminent, distinguished, signal, conspicuous. Emit, give out, throw out, exhale, discharge. Empty, void, devoid, hollow, unfilled. Enchanted, charmed, captivated, fascinated. Encircle, enclose, embrace, encompass. Enclose, fence in, confine, circumscribe. Encompass, encircle, surround, gird, begird. Encounter, attack, conflict, combat, assault. Encourage, countenance, sanction, support. End, aim, object, purpose, result, conclusion. Endanger, imperil, peril, hazard, jeopardize. Energy, force, vigor, efficacy, potency. Engage, employ, busy, occupy, attract, invite. Engagement, word, promise, battle, action. Engulf, swallow up, absorb, imbibe, drown. Enjoin, order, ordain, appoint, prescribe. Enjoyment, pleasure, gratification. Enlarge. increase, extend, augment, broaden, Enlighten, illumine, illuminate, instruct. Enraged, infuriated, raging, wrathful. Entangle, perplex, embarrass, inveigle. Enterprise, adventure, undertaking, effort. Entertainment, amusement, divertisement. Enthusiasm, zeal, ardor, fervor, warmth. Entice, allure, attract, decoy, lure, tempt. Entire, whole, complete, perfect, total. Entitled, named, designated, denominated. Entrance, entry. inlet, ingress, porch, portat, Engross, absorb, take up, busy, occupy, engage. Enrapture, enchant, fascinate, charm, captivate.SYNONYMS OF Entreat, beg, crave, solicit, beseech, implore. Enumerate, tell over, relate, narrate, recount. Erring, misguided, misled. Error, mistake, fallacy, blunder, hallucination scape, elude, evade. Especially, particularly, specially, mainly. Essay, attempt, trial, endeavor, effort, tract. Essential, necessary, indispensable, requisite. Establish, institute, found, organize, confirm. Estate, domain, demesne, lands, property. Esteem, prize, value, appreciate, respect. Estimate, value, measure, compute, calculate. Eternal, everlasting, endless, infinite, perpetual, Evade, escape, elude, equivocate, prevaricate. Evasion, shift, subterfuge, prevarication. Even, equal, equable, uniform, smooth, plain. Event, incident, occurrence, accident. Ever, always, eternally, everlastingly, evermore. Everlasting, endless, infinite. Evidence, manifest, prove, evince, demonstrate. Evident, clear, plain, manifest, apparent. Evil, wicked, ill, bad, unfair, misfortune. Evince, show, argue, prove, evidence, manifest. Evoke, call out, invite, summon, challenge. Exact, accurate, correct, definite, precise. Exaggerated, overstated, heightened, amplified, Exalt, raise, elevate, erect, lift up, dignify. Examination, search, inquiry, research. Exchange, change, barter, truck, commute. Exchange, barter, dealing, trade, traffic, Excitable, irritable, susceptible. Excite, incite, arouse, awaken, stir up, disquiet. Exclaim, call out, shout, cry, ejaculate. Exclude, shut out, debar, preclude, seclude. Exclusive, sole, only, alone. Excursion, trip, ramble, tour. Excusable, pardonable, venial. Excuse, palliate, mitigate, acquit, justify. Excuse, plea, justification, pretence, pretext. Execrable, abominable, detestable, hateful. Execute, accomplish, effectuate, fulfil, effect. Exemption, freedom, immunity, privilege. Exercise, exert, practice, pursue, carry on. Exhale, emit, give out, smoke, steam. Exhaust, spend, drain, empty, debilitate. Exhibition, show, sight, spectacle, pageant. Exile, banishment, deportation, expatriation. Kxonerate, clear, acquit, discharge, absolve. Kxorbitant, excessive, extortionate. Expand, spread, diffuse, dilate, extend, enlarge. Expectancy, expectation, waiting for, hope. Expectation, expectancy, waiting for, hope. Expedient, fit, necessary, essential, requisite. Expedite, accelerate, quicken, hasten, facilitate. Expel, drive out, eject, dispossess, dislodge. Explicit, express, plain; definite, positive. Exploit, achievement, feat, deed. Expound, explain, interpret, unfold, elucidate. Express, explicit, plain, positive, definite. Expressive, significant, energetic, emphatic. Expunge, blot out, wipe out, obliterate, efface. Exquisitely, pre-eminently, superlatively. Extend, enlarge, amplify, expand, increase. Extensive, comprehensive, wide, large. Exterior, outward, outer; external. THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE FABRIC, edifice, structure, pile. Fabricate, invent, frame, feign, forge, coin. Face, front, confront, encounter, Facetious, jocose, jocular, pleasant. Facile, easy, pliable, flexible. Fact, reality, incident, circumstance. Faculty, ability, gift, talent, endowment. Failing, imperfection, weakuess, frailty, foible. Failure, omission, neglect, default. Falter, halt, stammer, stutter, hesitate. Fame, reputation, glory, renown, celebrity. Famed, famous, far-famed, renowned. Familiar, free, frank, affable, conversant. Familiarity, acquaintance, intimacy, courtesy. Family, household, house, lineage, ancestry. Famous (See Famed). Fanciful, imaginative, ideal, fantastical. Fancy, imagination, notion, conceit, vagary. Farewell, good-bye, adieu, leaveta cing. Farming, husbandry, tillage, agriculture. Fashion, custom, manner, mode, practice, form, Fast, firm, solid, constant, steadfast, staunch. Fasten, fix, tie, link, stick, hold, affix, attach. Fat, obese, corpulent. Fatal, deadly, mortal, lethal, inevitable. Fatigue, weariness, lassitude, languor. Fault, blemish, defect, imperfection, vice. Favor, benefit, kindness, civility, grace. | Fear, fright, terror, dismay, alarm, dread. Fearless, brave, bold, intrepid, courageous. Fearful, afraid, timid, nervous, timorous. Feast, fete, banquet, treat, entertainment. Ferocious, fierce, savage, ravenous, voracious. Fertile, ‘ruitful, prolific, teeming, pregnant. Fervid, glowing, ardent, impassioned, fervent. Festal, festive, convivial, joyous. Festival, feast, banquet, fete, treat. Fes‘ivity, hilarity, joviality, jovialness, vaiety. Feud, fray, affray, broil, quarrel, dispute. Fickle, unstable, inconstaut, restless, fitful. Fiction, romance, invention, falsehood. Fictitious, fabricated, invented, supposititious. Fight, battle, action, engagement, combat. Figure, image, allegory, emblem, type, symboi. Fill, satisfy, content, store, replenish, glut. Filthy, dirty, dingy, unclean, gross. Final, ending, ultimate, last, latest, conclusive. Finale, close, end, termination, conclusion. Fine, refined, delicate, pure, nice, handsome. Finical, foppish, spruce, dandyish. Finite, limited, bounded, terminable. Firm, strong, robust, sturdy, fast, steadfast. First, primary, primitive, pristine, primeval. Fit, suit, adapt, adjust, equip, prepare. Flavor, taste, relish, savor. Flaw, blemish, spot, blur, speck, defect, crack. Fleeting, temporary, transient, transitory. _ Fleetness, quickness, celerity, swiftness, speed Flexible, flexile, pliant, lithe, supple. Flightinvess, levity, lightness, giddiness. Flimsy, light, weak, superficial, shallow. Fling, cast, throw, hurl, toss. Flinty, hard, indurate, obdurate. Flippancy, pertness, sauciness, lightness. Flirt, jeer, gibe, scoff, taunt. AE NA a eh ae ES wee BOR ant tot a omega ok sv Wot Sa « cane et 1 ae ae ee Eras Se on as RC eee tS Bs fe | i ie ‘ ee ed Exterminate, eradicate, root ont, annihilate. Extreme, atmost, farthest, most distant. Extricate, free, disengage, disentangle. Exuberant, plenteous, plentiful, luxuriant. Exultation, transport, joy, triumph. Flock, throng, crowd, multitude, swarm, shc Flood, deituge, inundate, overflow, overwheln, Fly, soar, mount, tower. : Foe, enemy, opponent, adversary, antagonist, Foil, balk, defeat, frustrate.ee el a al Se Po dl ; i 3 3 } ; lt Sieh PT AS dea PLINT ad Se ae Le ee eek poner Cabins a a 58e E Fold, wrap, envelop. Folks, persons, people, individuals, fellows. Follow, succeed, ensue, imitate, copy, pursue. Follower, partisan, disciple, retainer, pursucr. Folly, silliness, foolishness, imbecility, weakness. Fond, enamored, attached, affectionate. Fondness, affection, attachment, kindness, love. Food, meal, repast, victuals, meat, viands, diet. Fool, idiot, buffoon, zany, clown. Foolery, tomfoolery, folly, absurdity, mummery- Foolhardy, veuturesome, incautious, hasty. Foolish, simple, silly, irrational, brainless. Footstep, track, mark. Fop, dandy, beau, coxcomb, puppy, jackanapes. Forego, quit, relinquish, let go, walve. Foregoing, antecedent, anterior, preceding. Forerunner, herald, harbinger, precursor. Foresight, forethought, forecast, premeditation. Foretell, predict, prophesy, prognosticate. Forfeiture, fine, penalty. Forge, coin, invent, frame, feign, fabricate. Forgetful, unmindful, oblivious. Forgive, pardon, remit, absolve, acquit, excuse. Former, antecedent, anterior, previous, prior. Formidable, terrible, dreadful, fearful. Forsake, abandon, dlesert, renounce. Forsaken, abandonéd, forlorn, deserted. Forthwith, immediately, directly, instantly. Fortify, strengthen, garrison, reinforce. Fortitude, endurance, resolution, fearlessness. Fortunate, lucky, happy, auspicious, prosperous. Fortune, chance, fate, luck, doom, destiny. Forward, onward, progressive, confident. Forward, farther, further, advance, promote. Foster, cherish, nurse, tend, harbor, nurture. Fragrant, spicy, sweet-scented, balmy. Frailty, weakness, failing, foible, imperfection. Frame, construct, invent, coin, fabricate, forge. Franchise, right, exemption, immunity. Frank, artless, candid, sincere, free, easy- Frantic, distracted, mad, furious, raving. Fraternize, co-operate, consort, associate with. Fraud, deceit, deception, duplicity, guile, cheat. Fray, affray, feud, quarrel, broil, altercation. Fresh, new, novel, recent, modern. Fret, gall, chafe, agitate, irritate, vex. Fretful, peevish, petulant, fractious. Friendly, amicable, social, sociable. Fright, alarm, dismay, terror, consternation. Frighteu, scare, affright, dismay, appal, terrify. Frightful, fearful, dreadful, dire, direful. Frivolous, trifling, trivial, petty. Frolic, gambol, play, game, sport, prank, spree. Front, face, confront, encounter. Froward, cross, untoward, captious, fractious. Frugal, provident, econoniical, saving. Furious, violent, boisterous, vehement, dashing. Furniture, goads, gear, chattels, movables. Further, farther, advance, forward, promote. Fury, madness, frenzy, rage, anger. Futile, trifling, trivial, frivolous, useless. GAIETY, merriment, jollity, mirth, hilarity. Gain, profit, emolument, advantage, benefit. Gambol, frisk, prank, play, spree, caper. Game, play, pastime, diversion, sport. Gang, band, horde, company, troop, crew. Gap, breach, chasm, hollow, cavity, cleft. Garble, mutilate, misquote, distort, pervert Garland, chaplet ,coronal, wreath. NCYCLOPEDIA OF V ALUABLE INFORMATION. | Garnish, einbellish, adorn, beautify, deck. Gather, pick, cull, assemble, muster, infer, Gaudy, showy, tawdry, gay, glittering. Gaunt, emaciated, scraggy, skinny, meagre. Gawky, clumsy, uncouth, clownish, awkward. Gay, cheerful, merry, lively, jolly, sprightly. Generate, form, make, beget, produce. Generation, formation, race, breed, stock. Generous, beneficent, noble, honorable. Gesture, attitude, action, posture. Get, obtain, earn, gain, attain, procure, achieve Ghastly, wan, pallid, hideous, grim, shocking: Ghost, spectre, spright, sprite, apparition. Gibe, scoff, sneer, flout, jeer, mock, taunt. Giddy, unsteady, flighty, thoughtless. Gift, donation, benefaction, grant, alms. Gigantic, colossal, huge, enormous, vast. Gild, adorn, beautify, brighten, deck. Gird, begird, engird, belt, encircle, enclose. Give, grant, bestow, confer, yield, impart. Glad, pleased, cheerful, joyful, gladsome. Glare, flare, glisten, glitter, dazzle, gleam. Gleam, glimmer, glance, glitter, shine, flash Glee, gaiety, merriment, mirth, joviality. Glitter, gleam, shine, glisten, radiate, glimé. Gloom, cloud, darkness, dimness, blackness. Gloomy, lowering, lurid, dim, dusky, sad. Glorify, magnify, celebrate, adore, exalt. Glorious, famous, renowned, celebrated. Glory, honor, fame, renown, splendor. Glowing, hot, intense, fervid, ardent, fervent Glut, gorge, stuff, cram, cloy, satiate, block up. Go, depart, proceed, move, budge, stir. Godly, righteous, devout, holy, pious, religious. Good, benefit, weal, advantage, profit, boon. Goodly, comely, pleasant, graceful, desirable. Goodness, value, worth, excellence. Good, virtuous, righteous, upright, just, true. Gorge, glut, fill, cram, stuff, satiate. Grant, pay, wages, salary, stipend, gift, boon. Graphic, forcible, telling, picturesque, vivid. Grasp, catch, seize, gripe, clasp, grapple. Grasping greedy, avaricious, coyetous. Grateful, agreeable, pleasing, welcome. Gratification, enjoyment, pleasure, delight. Grave, serious, sedate, thoughtful, solemn. Grave, tomb, sepulchre, vault. Gravity, weight, heaviness, importance. Great, big, huge, large, majestic, vast, grand, Greediness, avidity, eagerness, voracity. Grief, affliction, sorrow, t ial, woe, tribulation. Grisly, terrible, hideous, grim, ghastly. { Gross, coarse, outrageous, unseemly, shameful, 4 Ground, found, rest, base, establish. Groundless, unfounded, baseless, ungrounded, Group, assembly, assemblage, cluster. Grovel, crawl, cringe, fawn, sneak. i Grow, increase, vegetate, expand, advance. Growl, grumble, snarl, murmur, complain. Grudge, malice, rancor, spite, pique, hatred. Gruff, rough, rugged, blunt, rude, harsh, surly, Grumble, growl, snarl, complain. Guarantee, warrant, secure, verify. Guard, shield, fence, security, defence. Guardian, protector, conservator, preserver, Guess, conjecture, divine, surmise, reckon. Gush, stream, flow, rush, spout. HABILIMENTS, clothes, dress, garb, apps. | Habit, manner, custom, usage WaysDec Pe Ady ee Sea Shae Bye ee Se eRe pa ic ¥ OE cite ores SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Habitation, dwelling, residence, abode. Habitual, usual, customary, accustomed. Hail, greet, salute, welcome, accost, call. Hale, hearty, robust, sound, healthy, strong, Hallow, consecrate, sanctify, venerate. Halt, rest, pause, falter, limp, hop, hobble. Hand, operative, work i Handle, manage, use, wield, feel. Happiness, felicity, bliss, prosperity. Happy, prosperous, successful, lucky. Harass, distress, perplex, weary, tire, wo!lry. Harbor, port, haven, asylum, refuge. Hard, firm, solid, flinty, unfeeling, harsh. Hardened, hard, callous, unfeeling, insensible. Hardihood, audacity, imprudence, effrontery. Hardy, manly, manfvl, masculine, vigorous. Harm, evil, ill, misfortune, mischief, mishap. Harmonious, symphonious, consonous. Harmonize, accord, tally, agree, adapt. Harsh, rough, severe, rigorous, gruff, rugged. Havoc, destruction, desolation, devastation. Hazard, peril, imperil, jeopardize, risk, dare. Haze, fog, mist, rime. Head, chief, leader, guide. Headstrong, obstinate, dogged, stubborn, Heal, cure, remedy, reconcile. Healthy, hearty, hale, sound, strong. Heap, pile, mass, accumulate. Hear, hearken, overhear, listen. Heartbroken, disconsolate, inconsolate. Hearty, hale, healthy, sound, strong. Heavenly, celestial, divine, seraphic, angelic. Heaviness, dullness, gloom, lethargy, torpor. Help, aid, assist, co-oper ute, succor, relieve. Heretofore, formerly, aforetime, long ago. Heroic, courageous, brave, bold, intrepid. Hesitate, falter, pause, demur, scruple. Hew, cut down, fell, hack, chop. Hidden, secret, occult, mysterious. Hide, conceal, disguise, secrete, cover, screen. Hide, skin, rind, peel, bark. Hideous, ghastly, grim, grisly, frightful. High, tall, lofty, elevated, proud, conceited. Highly, greatly, exceedingly, immeasurably. Hilarity, mirch, glee, jollity, merriment. Hinder, thwart, retard, stop, prevent, impede. Hint, suggest, allude to, refer to, glance at. Hire, pay, allowauce, salary, wages, stipend. Hit, strike, dash, beat, thump. Yoard, heap up, treasure, lay up, store. ionor, homage, dignity, grandeur. Hope, expectation, expectancy, trus. Horrible, fearful, dreadful, dire, Airefut. Hostile, opposite, contrary, repugnant, adverse. Hostility, animosity, enmity, ill will, hatred. Hot, ardent, fervent, f.ery, burning, glowing, House, family, lineage, race, habitation. Humiliation, fall, abasement, degradation. Humor, satire, wit, jocularity, temper, mova. Hurl, throw, fling, cast, precipitate. Hurricane, storm, tempest, blast, tornado. Hurry, hasten, speed, expedite, precipitate, Hurt, harm, inju-y, Jamage, mischief. Hurtful, pernicious, baneful, deleterious. Hush, lull, calm, stilJ, quiet. Hypocrisy, deceit, pretence, cant. IDEA, imagination, conception, notion. Ideal, fanciful, imaginary, imaginative. Adentical, same, self-same, particular- man, artisan, influence, { ° Idle, lazy, indolent, inactive, un 1 Illimitable, boundle ee ee i ss, limitless, measureless, Illiterate, unlettered, unlearned, untaught. Illness, sickness, indisrosition, disease. Illusion, fallacy, deception, phantasm. Illusory, imaginary, chi merical, visionary. Illustrate, explain, elucidate, clear. Illustrious, celebrated, glorious, noble. Image, likeness, picture, representation. Imaginary, ideal, fanciful, illusory. Imagine, conceive, fancy, apprehend, think, Imbecility, silliness, seni'ity, dotage. Imbibe, absorb, swallow up, take in, engulf. Immediately, instantly, forthwith, directly. Immense, vast, enormous, huge, prodigious, Immierse, dip, plunge, douse, souse. Immunity, privilege, prerogative, exemption. immure, confine, shut up, imprison. Impair, injure, diminish, decrease. Impart, communicate, reveal, divulge. Impartial, just, equitable, unbiased. Impassioned, passionate, glowing, burning. Impeach, accuse, charge, arraign, censure. Impede, hinder, retard, obstruct, prevent. Impediment, obstruction, hindrance, obstacle. Impel, animate, actiiate, induce, move, incite. Impious, profane, irreligious, godless. Implicate, involve, entangle, embarrass. Implore, beg, solicit, beseech, crave. Imply, involve, comprise, infold, import. Importance, signification, significance, avail. Important, pressing, momentous, material. Impose, put, place, set, fix, lay. Imposing, impressive, striking, majestic. Imposition, delusion, cheat, deception, fraud. Impost, tax, duty, custom, excise, tribute. Impregnate, fill with, imbue, saturate, steep, Impress, device, motto, seal, imprint. Impression, feeling, sentiment, sensation. Impressive, stirring, forcible, exciting. Imprison, incarcerate, shut Up, immure. Imprisonment, incarceratior, captivity. Improve, amend, better, mend, reform, rectifr Improvement, progress, proficiency. Improvident, careless, iucautious, imprudent. Impudence, assurance, impertinence. Impudent, saucy, brazen, bold, impertinent. | Impugn, gainsay, oppose, attack, assail. | Impulse, incentive, incitement, motive. Impulsive, rash, hasty, forcible, violent. Incentive, motive, inducement, impulse. Incessantly, always, unceasingly, continually. Incident, circumstance, fact, event, occurrence Incidental, accidental, casual, cor.tingent. Incision, cut, gash. Incite, instigate, excite, provoke, stimulate. Inclemency, harshness, rigor, intensity. Inclination, leaning, slope, disposition. Incline, slope, lean, slant, tend, bend, turn. Inclose, surround, shut in, fence in, cover. Include, comprehend, comprise, contain. Inconstant, chaugeable, unsteadfast, unstable, Inconvenience, incommode, discommode. Increase, v. extend, enlarge, augment, dilate. Increase, s. augmentation, accession, addition, Inculcate, impress, infuse, instill, implant. Incumbent, obligatory, morally necessitated. Incursion, inroad, invasior, irruption. Indeed, truly, veritably, certainly. Indefinite, vague, uncertain, unsettled, loose. x 1 ff: i 4 5 id 4 * 4 | ab se oe Be rl ae | an" | ei e.| vi T2* | A *. rl | | e ae] | A cb Ps a aS) eta one ong a Ay a E Sat ey Att Bt . a oa 33 ee Kas ae ee oe _ — aac LORS x ad ‘acts OPE eR Te reali eon atte Lat cate nnesticsitnide : ae Prete eeya let F | % E H 3 4 : i ‘ i 4 ch 8 a POLO EE ENP ES nt RNS wen renin aaron it~: 632 Indicate, point out, show, mark. Indication, x urk, show, sign, note, symptom. Indite, compose, frame, couch. Indolent, idle, lazy, listless, inactive. Induce, move, actuate, prompt, impel, instigate. Inducement, motive, reason, cause, impulse. Indulge, foster, cherish, fondle. Industrious, active, diligent, assiduous. Ineffectual, vain, useless, unavailing, fruitless. Inequality, disparity, disproportion. Inestimable, invaluable, priceless. {nevitable, unavoidable, not to be avoided. Inferior, secondary, subaltern, subordiuate. Infernal, diabolical, fiendish, devilish, hellish. Infest, annoy, plague, harass, disturb. Infidelity, unbelief, distrust, incredulity. Infinite, boundless, unbounded, illimitable. Infirm, weak, feeble, enfeebled. Inflame, anger, irritate, enrage, enchafe. Inflection, bend, crookeduess, curvature. Inflict, lay on, impose. Influence, v. bias, sway, prejudice, prepossess. Influence, S. credit, favor, reputation, character. Inform, communicate, tell, report, acquaint. Inhuman, cruel, brutal, savage, barbarous. Iniquity, wrong, injustice, grievance. Injunction, order, command, mandate, precept. Injure, damage, hurt, deteriorate, wrong. [njurious, hurtful, baneful, pernicious. Injustice, wrong, iniquity, grievance. Inlet, entrance, entry, ingress. Innocent, guiltless, sinless, harmless. [noffensive, harmless, innocent, innoxious. Insanity, madness, mental aberration, lunacy. Inscribe, dedicate, devote, impress, engrave. Inside, interior, within, inland. Insidious, sly, treacherous, crafty, artful. Insight, discernment, inspection, introspection. Insinuate, hint, intimate, suggest, infuse. Insipid, dull, flat, mawkish, tastcless, vapid. Insist, persist, persevere, urge. Insnare, entrap, decoy, allure, net, enmesh. Insolent, rude, saucy, pert, impertinent. Inspect, examine, investigate, overhaul. Inspire, animate, exhilarate, enliven, cheer. Instability, mutability, fickleness, mutableness. Install, induct, inaugurate, jnvest. Instrument, tool, implement, utensil, medium. Instrumental, conducive, assistant, helping. Insufficiency, inadequacy, incompetency. Insult, affront, outrage, indignity, blasphemy. Insulting, insolent, rude, saucy, impertinent. Insurrection, rebellion, mutiny, revolt, sedition. Integrity, uprightness, honesty, probity. Intellect, understanding, sense, brains, mind. Intellectual, mental, ideal, metaphysical. Intend, design, contemplate, mean, Purpose. Intense, ardent, earnest, glowing, fervid. {ntent, design, purpose, intention, drift, view. Intentional, designed, intended, contemplated. “Inter, bury, eutomb, inhume. Intercede, interpose, interfere, mediate. Intercourse, commerce, counection, intimacy. Interdict, forbid, prohibit, inhibit, proscribe. Interfere, meddle, intermeddle, interpose. Interior, inward, inner, inside, internal. Intermediate, intervening, intervenient. Jntervention, agency, interposition, meditation. Intimate, hint, suggest, insinuate, express- Intimidate, dishearten, alarm, frighten. ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Intolerable, insufferable, unbearable. Intoxicated, drunk, tipsy, inebriated, fuddled. Intrepid, bold, brave, daring, fearless. Intricacy, difficulty, complexity, complication. Intrigue, plot, conspiracy, combination. Intrinsic, real, true, genuine, sterling, native. Introduce, present, usher, bring in, begin. Introduction, preface, prelude, exordium. Invade, attack, assail, infringe, encroach. Invalid, weak, worthless, null, feeble, infirm. Invalidate, quash, cancel, overthrow, vacate. Invasion, incursion, irruption, inroad, Invective, abuse, reproach, railing, censure. Invent, devise, contrive, frame, fabricate. Invert, upset, overturn, overthrow, subvert. Invest, surround, besiege, endue, clothe. Investigation, examination, search, inquiry. Inveterate, confirmed, chronic, malignant. Invidious, envious, hateful, odious, malignant. Invigorate, brace, harden, nerve, strengthen. Invincible, unconquerable, impregnable. Invisible, unseen, imperceptible, impalpable. Irregular, eccentric, anomalous, inordinate. Irreligious, profane, godless, impious. Irreproachable, blameless, spotless. Irresistible, resistless, opposeless, irrepressible Irresolute, wavering, undetermined, undecided. Irrespective, independent of. Irritable, excitable, irascible, susceptible. Irritate, aggravate, worry, provoke, embitter. Issue, v. emerge, rise, proceed, flow, spring. Issue, s. end, conclusion, upshot, effect. JEALOUSY, suspicion, envy. Jeer, sneer, scoff, mock. ; Jeopardize, imperil, hazard, endanger. Jeopardy, risk, peril, hazard, danger, chance. Jilt, coquette, flirt. Jocose, jocular, jolly, facetious, witty, pleasant. Jocund, light-hearted, lively, sprightly. Join, accompany, £0 with, add, unite, append. Jollification, conviy iality, revelry, merriment, Jolly, stout, lusty, corpulcnt, obese, merry. Journey, travel, tour, trip, excursion, voyage. Joviality, hilarity, jollity, mirth, merriment, Joy, delight, gladness, charm, pleasure. Justify, excuse, clear. exonerate, defend. Justmess, accuracy, correctness. Jut, project, protrude, bulge. Juvenile, young, youthful, boyish, infantile. KEEN, sharp, acute, penetrating, cutting. Keep, retain, hold, detain, preserve, maintain. Key, guide, explanation, translation, solution. Kill, murder, assassinate, slay, massacre. Kind, thoughtful, affable, g ntle, meek, tender. Kind, species, sort. class, genus, nature. Kindle, ignite, enkindle, awaken, arouse. Kindred, affinity, relative, kinsfolk, related. Knowledge, learning, scholarship, acyuirements. LABORIOUS, hard-working, industrious. Labor, work, task, toil, exertion. Labored, elabcrate, hard-wrouyht, studied. Laborer, workman, operative, hand. Lack, want, need, require. Laconic, short, brief, concise, curt. Lag, tarry, linger, loiter, saunter. Lame, limp, halt, hobble, hop. Jament, grieve, mourn, regret, bewail, deplore.Tanguage, speech, tongue, dialect. Languid, weak, faint, drooping, pining. Lank, lean, thin, skinny, meagre, scraggy. Lapse, elapse, glide, pass, roll. Large, big, great, huge, vast, extensive, wide. Lawful, legal, legitimate, rightful. Lax, loose, vague, dissolute, licentious. Lazy, idle, indolent, slothful, sluggish. Lead, conduct, guide, direct, induce, persuade. Leader, chief, director, head, guide. Leading, principal, chief, governing, ruling, League, alliance, confederacy, combination. Lean, v. thin, scraggy, lank, skinny. Lean, S. incline, tend, bend, slope. Leap, jump, bound, spring. Learning, knowledge, scholarship. Leave, Ss. liberty, license, permission. Leave, v. quit, relinquish, renounce, give up. Leavings, scraps, refuse, remains, remnants, Lengthen, extend, elongate, protract, prolong. Lessen, abate, diminish, decrease, lower. Let, permit, allow, suffer. Letter, epistle, note, communication. Level, even, plain, smooth, flat. Levity, giddiness, lightness, flightiness. Liable, exposed to, subject to. Libel, lampoon, pasquinade. Liberal, generous, bountiful, bounteous Liberate, set free, deliver, discharge. Liberty, leave, license, permission, freedom. Licentious, loose, lax, dissolute, rakish. Lie, untruth, falsehood, falsity, fabrication. Life, animation, vivacity, buoyancy, spirits. Lifeless, dead, defunct, inanimate, extinct. Lift, hoist, raise, elevate, erect, exalt. Limpid, clear, transparent. Lineage, ancestry, family, house, generation. Linger, tarry, loiter, wait, lag, saunter. Link, tie, bind, join, chain. Liquid, liquor, fluid, juice. Liquidate, clear off, extinguish, pay off, lessen. List, roll, roster, catalogue, register, inventory. Listen, list, hearken, heed, attend to. Listless, indifferent, indolent, careless. Literal, actual, real, positive, true. Literature, books, letters, learning, scholarship. Little, small, diminutive, dwarf. Live, exist, subsist. Livelihood, living, support, sustenance. Loiter, wait, linger, tarry, saunter. Lone, forlorn, lonesome, solitary, desolate. ok, s. manner, appearance, aspect, feature. Look, v. see, witness, view, eye, inspect. Loose, vague, indefinite, lax, slack, dissolute. Loquacity, talkativeness, volubility, glibness. Loss, damage, detriment. Lot, destiny, fate, future, doom. Loud, noisy, clamorous, vociferous, blustering. Love, endearment, affection, attachment. Lovely, charming, amiable, delightful. Lover, suitor, wooer, sweetiieart. Low, humble, lowly, base, mean, filthy, foul. Lower, reduce, humble, humiliate, degrade. Lowering, gloomy, lurid, murky, dull. Loyalty, allegiance, fealty. Luck, chance, fortune, accident. Luscious, honeyed, sweet, mellifluous. Lustful, lecherous, lascivious. Lustre, splendor, brightness, brilliancy. ty, stout, strong, able-bodied, stalwart. SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. seblacaacuiatinad’' < i BS 587 Luxuriant, overflowing, exuberant, superfluous, Luxury, plenty, profuseness, yoluptuousness. Lying, false, untrue, untruth. MACHINATION, stratagem, cheat, im posture. Mad, wild, frantic, distracted, frantic, rabid. Madden, irritate, enrage, exasperate. Madness, mental aberration, insanity, lunacy, Maim, mutilate, mangle, cripple, lame. Main, chief, principal, leading, first. Maintain, assert, vindicate, hold, support, Maintenance, living, livelihood, subsistence. Majestic, dignified, noble, stately, pompous. Majesty, grandeur, dignity, honor. Make, create, form, produce, mould, shape. Malady, ailment, disease, distemper, disorder, Malediction, curse, imprecation, denunciation. Malefactor, criminal, culprit, felon, convict. Malice, Spite, rancor, ill-feeling, grudge, pique. Malicious, virulent, malignant, wicked. Manacle, shackle, fetter, chain. Manage, contrive, concert, direct. Management, direction, superintendence. care. Mangle, tear, lacerate, mutilate, cripple, maim. ‘ Manner, habit, custom, way, air, look. Manners, morals, habits, behavior, carriage. Manure, dung, ordure, soil. Many, numerous, several, sundry, divers. Mar, spoil, ruin, disfigure. Margin, edge, rim, border, brink, verge. Marine, maritime, nautical, naval. Marked, obseryable, noticeable, remarkable. Marriage, wedding, nuptials, matrimony. Marsh, fen, bog, morass, quagmire, swamp. Martial, military, warlike, soldierlike. Marvel, wonder, miracle, prodigy. Marvelous, wondrous, wonderful, amazing. Mask, visor, cloak, veil, blind. Massacre, carnage, slaughter, butchery. Massive, massy, bulky, heavy, weighty. Master, possessor, proprietor, head, owner. Mastery, dominion, rule, Sway, ascendency. Material, corporeal, bodily, physical, temporal, Matrimony, marriage, wedlock, wedding. Mature, ripe, ready, mellow, perfect, fit, Mawkish, insipid, flat, spiritless, vapid. Maxim, adage, apothegm, proverb, saying. Meagre, poor, lank, emaciated, barren, dry. Meaning, signification, import, acceptation. Means, way, manner, method, mode. Mechanic, artisan, artificer, operative. Mediate, intercede, interpose. Meditate, think, reflect, muse. Medium, mediocrity, organ, channel. Meek, unassuming, mild, gentle. Meet, apt, fit, suitable, expedient, proper. Meeting, assembly, convocation, congregation. Mellow, ripe, mature, soft. Melodious, tuneful, musical, silver, dulcet. Melt, liquefy, fuse, dissolve, moisten. Memoir, narrative, chronicle, legend, life. - Memorial, monument, memento. Memory, remembrance, recollection. Menace, threat, threatening, commuination. Menial, servant, domestic, drudge. Merchandise, goods, wares, commerce, traffic, Merchant, trader, tradesman, dealer. : Mercy, lenity, mildness, clemency, compassiop Merely, barely, only, scarcely, just. x ee ae Fo ea eins ee ae = " re 4 ey “as - 4 2 a al vs x om: Ree re Ba aS ees Pe REE gee ee ee ee a ee ee a nar tat Te ti Pt 4 . oe Sa Pinter ® of Sento w Tek eo ee ae, ede B28 Spec pre GENIE PND ES itn nF sorts Riera cme aa i aSeliaked ed ee Merit, worth, desert.Td Oe hee See ae ee Pee a ee i e | | : | } 4 3 ; ; Fe Aa eddie Reet at eerie Be Je, oh a Be KS betessPaeies e ak * 584 ENCYCLOPEDIA OF V Merited, deserved, condign, suitable, adequate. Meritorious, worthy, deserving. Merriment, mirth, joviality, jollity, hilarity. Messenger, carrier, harbinger, forerunner. Metaphorical, figurative, allegorical. Mien, air, look, manner, aspect, appearance. Migratory, roving, strolling, wandering. Mild, soft, meek, gentle, kind. Mimic, imitate, ape, mock. Mind, wv. heed, advert to, regard. Mind, s. sentiment, opinion, idea, notion. Mindful, observant, attentive, heedful. Mingle, mix, blend, compound, amalgamate. Minister, administer, contribute, supply. Ministry, cabinet, administration, government. Minute, circumstantial, particular. Miscellaneous, promiscuous, indiscriminate. Mischief, injury, harm, damage, hurt, evil. Misconception, misapprehension. Miscreant, caitiff, villain, ruffian. Miserable, unhappy, wretched, distressed. Miserly, stingy, niggardly, avaricious. Misfortune, calamity, disaster, mishap. Misguide, mislead, dazzle, beguile, deceive. Mislead (see Misguide). Misspend, waste, dissipate, squander. Misrule, anarchy, confusion. Miss, omit, lose, fail, miscatrry. Mission, commission, legation, embassy. Mistake, err, fail, misconceive. Misunderstanding, misapprehend. Misuse, abuse, perversion, maltreatment. Mitigate, alleviate, relieve, abate, diminish. Mix, mingle, blend, intermix, amalgamate. Mixture, medley, variety, hotch-potch. Modern, novel, new, recent. Modest, chaste, virtuous, bashful, reserved. Moist, wet, damp, dank, humid. Moment, consequence, weight, importance. Momentous, important, significant, weighty. Monotonous, unvaried, dull, tiresome. Monster, ruffian, villain, brute, prodigy. Monstrous, shocking, dreadful, horrible. Mood, humor, disposition, vein, temper. Moral, regular, strict, virtuous. Morals, manners, behavior, habits, morality. Morass, bog, quagmire, slough, marsh, fen. Morbid, sick, ailing, sickly, diseased. Moreover, besides, furthermore. Morning, daybreak, morn, dawn, sunrise. Morose, gloomy, sullen, surly, fretful, crabbed. Mortal, deadly, fatal, destructive. Mortality, humankind, human race, death. Mortify, vex, chagrin, grieve, hurt, afflict. Motherly, maternal, tender. Motion, proposition, proposal, movement. Motionless, still, statiouary, torpid, stagnant. Motley, heterogeneous, diversified. Mottled, dappled, dotted, spotted, flecked. Mould, cast, form, shape, fashion, mildew. Mount, arise, rise, ascend, soar, tower, climb. Mournful, sad, sorrowful, lugubrious, grievous. Moving, affecting, touching, pathetic, melting. Much, ample, plenteous, copious. Mufile, deaden, disguise, conceal, cover. Murky, dark, dusky, dim, cloudy, misty. Muse, meditate, contemplate, think, reflect. Music, harmony, melody, symphony. Musical, tuneful, melodious, harmonious. Muster, collect, rally, assemble, congregate. ALUABLE INFORMATION. Musty, stale, sour, fetid. Mute, dumb, silent, speechless. Mutilate, maim, cripple, disable, disfigure. Mutinous, insurgent, seditious, tumultuous. Mystify, confuse, perplex, puzzle. Myth, fable, legend, fiction, parable. NATION, people, community, realm, state. Native, real, genuine, indigenous, vernacular- Natural, original, regular, normal, bastard. Naturally, consequently, necessarily. Nausea, qualm, sea-sickness, disgust, loathing. Nautical, maritime, sea-faring, naval, marine. Neat, nice, spruce, trim, precise, pure. Necessitate, compel, force, oblige. Need, v. necessity, distress, poverty, indigence Need, s. require, want. Needful, needy, requisite, essential, necessary: Neglect, disregard, slight, omit, overlook. Nerve, fibre, sinew, tendon, force, pluck. Nervous, timid, timorous, shaky. Neutralize, counterbalance, counteract. Nevertheless, however, yet notwithstanding. New, fresh, recent, novel, News, tidings, intelligence, information. Nice, exact, accurate, good, particular. Niggard, miser, skinflint, screw. Niggardly, miserly, griping, stingy, penurious. Nigh, near, close, adjacent, approximate. Nobility, aristocracy, greatness, grandeur. Nocturnal, nightly, gloomy, dark. Noise, cry, outcry, clamor, row, din, uproar. Nonuinate, name, entitle. Nonsensical, irrational, absurd, preposterous. Notice, s. advice, notification, intelligence. Notice, v. mark, note, observe, attend to. Noticeable, striking, observable, remarkable. Notorious, noted, well-known, renowned. Nourish, nurture, cherish, foster, supply. Nourishment, food, diet, sustenance, nutrition. Noxious, hurtful, deadly, poisonous. Nugatory, ineffectual, futile, useless, null. Nullify, annul, vacate, invalidate, quash. Numerous, many, sundry, various, several. Nuptials, marriage, wedding. Nurture, nurse, cherish, nourish, foster. Nutrition, food, diet, nutriment, nourishment. OBEDIENT, compliant, submissive, dutiful. Obese, corpulent, fat, adipose, fleshy. Object, s. aim, end, purpose, design, mark, butt. Object, v. oppose, except to, contravene. Obligation, duty, favor, engagement, contract. Obliging, accommodating, civil, courteous: Obliterate, erase, blot out, expunge, efface- Obnoxious, hateful, offensive, liable, exposed. Obscene, lewd, foul, filthy, indecent, indelicate. Obscure, shade, dim, cloud, darken. Observable, noticeable, reniarkable, striking. Observant, watchful, mindful, attentive. Observation, remark, comment, notice. Obtrude, trespass, trench, intrude, encroach. Obtuse, stolid, heavy-headed, dull, stupid. Obviate, prevent, preclude, hinder. Occasion, s. necessity, need, event, opening. Occasion, v. cause, make, create, induce. Occasional, accidental, casual, incidental. Occult, secret, hidden, unknown, invisible. Occupy, hold, possess, fill, employ. Occur, happen, take place, appear, offer.ie SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Occurrence, event, affair, incident, adventure. Oder, smell, scent, perfume, fragrance, Offal, garbage, rubbish, refuse. Offend, displease, vex, nettle, irritate, shock. Offender, culprit, defaulter, delinquent. Officer, functionary, official, commandant. Officious, obtrusive, busy, interfering. Offspring, issue, progeny, descendants. Often, frequently, recurrently, repeatedly. Omen, presage, prognostic, foreboding. Omission, oversight, failure, neglect, default. Omit. leave out, miss, overlook. One, common, united, single, individual. Only, singly, alone, solely, merely, barely. Ouset, onslaught, attack, charge, encounter, Onward, forward, ahead, progressive. Ooze, exude, drop, percolate, filter. Opaque, untransparent, dull, dark, cloudy. Operate, act, do, make, work, labor. Operative, stringent, effective, serviceable. Opportune, seasonable, timely, fit, well-timed. Opportunity, occasion, chance, fit, opening. Oppose, combat, bar, hinder, resist. Opposing, conflicting, jarring, neutralizing. Oppress, overburden, overbear, overtask. Oppression, cruelty, hardship, tyranny. Opprobrium, disgrace, odium, infamy. Option, choice, preference, election. Opulent, wealthy, rich, affluent, moneyed. Oral, verbal, spoken, parole. Oration, address, speech, harangue. Oratory, rhetoric, eloquence. Orb, circle, globe, ball, sphere. Order, appoint, prescribe, enjoin, command. Ordinance, decree, law, statute, edict. Organic, fundamental, radical, rooted. Organize, dispose, arrange, regulate, adjust. Organization, structure, form, instrumentality. Orifice, aperture, opening. Original, first, primary, pristine, primeval. Originate, create, form, spring, ooze, issue. Ostensible, manifest, visible, outward. Ostentation, display, pomp, show, parade. Ostentatious, showy, vain-glorious, vain. Outcast, reprobate, castaway, vagraut. Outdo, exceed, excel, surpass, outvie. Outer, outward, outside, external, exterior. Outlandish, strange, foreign, alien, barbarous. Outline, sketch, plan, draft, contour. Outrage, affront, abuse, injury, insult, offence. Outset, commencement, start, beginning. Outskirts, suburbs, environs, precincts. Outward, outer, external, exterior, extrinsic. Over, above, upon, across, more than. Overawe, daunt, intimidate, affright, cow. Overcharge, oppress, overload, surcharge. Overflow, inundate, submerge, deluge, flood. Overflowing, exuberant, copious, diffuse. Overplus, excess, surplus, surplusage. Overruling, governing, controlling. Overture, proposal, offer, invitation. Overturn, overset, overthrow, upset, subvert. Own, acknowledge, admit, confess, recognize. Owner, proprietor, possessor, master, holder. PACE, step, tread, walk, tramp, march. Pacific, peaceful, peaceable, mild, gentle. Pacify, appease, calm, quiet, still. Pagan, gentile, heathen, idolater. Pageantry pomp, splendor, show. Ee eit ter bee Sie Ace Va, Oe ees Gs) Mane Laks Ri Bl wee i Lae ne oe Pain, anguish, agony, distress, suffering, Painful, afflicting, grievous, torturing. Painstaking, attentive, laborious, diligent. Paint, color, represent, portray, delineate. Pair, two, couple, brace. Palate, taste, relish. Pale, pallid, wan, whitish, shallow, faint. Palliate, extenuate, varnish, cover, allay. Palpable, clear, distinct, plain, obvious. Palpitate, flutter, pant, throb, pulsate. Panegyric, eulogy, encomium, eulogium. Pang, throe, twinge, agony, anguish, pain. Pant, perpies gasp, throb, long, yearn. Parable, fable, allegory, simile. Parade, show, ostentation, vain-glory. Parallel, equal, parity, analogy, like, similar, Paramount, supreme, principal, chief. Parasite, flatterer, sycophant, toady. Parity, analogy, equality, parallel. Parsimonious, stingy, niggardly, miserly. Parson, clergyman, incumbent, curate. Partake, participate, share. Partial, biased, prejudiced, limited. Participate, share, partake, join in. Particle, jot, tittle, grain, atom. Particular, singular, exact, nice, punctual. Particularly, primarily, especially, chiefly. Parting, separation, leaving, distribution. Partisan, supporter, follewer, adherent. Partition, parcel, divide, apportion, distribute. Passable, tolerable, pretty good, fair. Pass, elapse, glide, slip, slide. Pastime, sport, play, recreation, amusement. Patch, part, piece, plot, tract. Paternal, fatherly, careful, tender, aereditary. Path, pathway, footroad, road, way, route. Pathetic, moving, touching, affecting, melting. Patience, resignation, endurance, fortitude. — Patient, passive, submissive, resigned. Patronize, befriend, favor, countenatice. Paucity, lack, fewness, deficiency. Pause, demur, hesitate, deliberate, interval. Pay, liquidate, lessen, discharge, extinguish. Peace, quiet, calm, tranquility, repose, amity. Peaceable, mild gentle, friendly. Peasant, countryman, rustic, bumpkin. Peccant, erring, guilty, criminal, maligraxt. Peculator, defaulter, delinquent, offender. Pedigree, descent, genealogy, lineage. Peel, skin, rind, husk. | Pellucid, translucent, lucid, limpid, transpare Penal, punitive, retributive. Penalty, fine, amercetnent, mulct, forfeiture. Pendant, protruding, hanging, pendulous. Pending, depending, coming, undecided. Penetrate, pierce, perforate, bore, fathom. Penitence, contrition, repentance, remorse. Percolate, filtrate, strain, filter, ooze. Perennial, imperishable, undying, immortal. Perfect, complete, whole, eutire, finished. Perfidious, faithless, false-hearted, treacherous. Perforate, bore, penetrate, pierce, drill. Performer, actor, player, comedian, tragedian. Perfume, odor, scent, fragrance, arcma, smell, Perhaps, perchance, possibly, peradventure. Perilous, dangerous, hazardous. Period, time, age, date, era, cycle, epoch, end. Periodically, regularly, steadily. : Perish, decay, die, expire, dissolve, disclose. Permission, permit, leave, liberty, licerse. ee er a ne ot eC SR On CNC SR Oe ene a a SS TT aa <0 ; a nes Fao Psat eat Adie 28 PC HN ms ee ee ere Bee eee AE ERD SEN TO Te = . » ep pe ae epee tee te! SRS ee ay let aie) Aai wee Ce ed a hee a DW oe eo aol { 1 é } : 3 ti A eS DS 2 il lhe Spin ORE TERY LTR nS NRE wins renthe ature ta 586 ENCYCLUPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Persecute, oppress, harass, afflict. Persevere, continue, persist, pursue, proceed. Persons, men, people, folks, individuals. Persuade, exhort, urge, allure, incite, influence. Pert, forward, flippant, saucy, impertinent. Pertain, belong, appertain, relate, concern. Pertinacious, obstinate, inflexible, stubborn. Pertinent, fit, relevant, proper, appropriate. Perturb, agitate, unsettle, vex. Pervade, diffuse, spread, permeate, ovyerspread. Pervert, corrupt, distort, turn, twist. Pest, bane, plague, cankerworn, ruin. Petition, prayer, supplication, entreaty. Petty, trifling, trivial, frivulous, insignificant Phantom, apparition, “pectre, ghost, sprite. Philosophy, science, knowledge. Phiegmatic, frigid, cold, heavy, unfeeling. Physical, material, corporeal, tangible. Pick, pluck, choose, cull, select, gather. Pictorial, picturesque, graphic, imaginative. Piece, part, portion, section, morsel, firearm. Piercing, thrilling, ringing, clangous. Piety, religion, sanctify, holiness, devotion. Pile, heap, accumulate, hoard, amass, collect. Pile, building, edifice, structure, thread. Pillage, loot, rapine, spoil, plunder, booty. Pillar, column, shaft, post, support. Pinch, press, squeeze, gripe, nip. Pine, flag, droop, languish, sink, fade. Pious, holy, godly, saintly, devout, religious. Pique, spite, grudge, umbrage, resentment. Pit, hollow, trench, gulf, abyss. Pitch, fling, cast, launch, throw. Pith, gist, kernel, cream, strength, marrow. Pithy, terse, concise, forcible, strong. Pitiful, mean, paltry, sordid, contemptible. Pity, s. compassion, sympathy, condolence. Place, put, set, lay, dispose, order, organize. Plaintive, elegiac, dirgelike, doleful, sad. Plandit, acclamation, applause, exultation. Plausible, colorable, specious, ostensible. Plea, apology, defence, vindication, entreaty. Plead, defend, vindicate, exonerate, justify. Please, gratify, satisfy, content, delight. Plebeian, ignoble, vulgar, low-born. Pledge, Ss. pawn, earnest, security, surety. Plenty, enough, suiliciency, abundance. Pliable, pliant, flexible, lithe, supple, yielding. Plight, pledge, hypothecate, vow. Plot, concoct, hatch, frame, contrive. Pluck, courage, mettle, spirit, nerve. Plump, fleshy, round, fat, full, chubby. Plunder, pillage, booty, loot, spoil, robbery. Plunge, dive, dip, douse, sink. Ply, practice, exercise, urge. Point, v. aim, level, direct, sharpen, show. Point, a. peaked, sharp, marked, keen, severe. Poison, bane, pest, venom, virus, infection. Policy, plan, device, stratagem, management. Polite, refined, genteel, civil, accomplished. Politic, political, civil, judicious, prudential. Ponderous, heavy, weighty, massive, bulky. Poor, indigent, needy, penniless, necessitous. Populace, people, commonalty, vulgar, mob. Popular, common, geueral, prevailing. Port, harbor, haven, entrance, portal. Portal, gate, gateway, entrance. Portend, foreshow, augur, presage, forebode. Portly, majestic, stately, grand, dignified. Possess, have, own, hold, occupy. Possible, practicable, likely, feasible. Possibly, perhaps, peradventure, perchance. Post, s. place, situation, position, office, berth. Practical, serviceable, useful, experienced. Practically, actually, really, in fact. Practice, s. custom, habit, manner, use, usage. Practice, v. exercise, transact, apply. Praise, s. approval, eulogy, commendation. Prank, frolic, gambol, freak, trick, escapade. Prate, tattle, babble, chat, chatter, prattle. Pray, beg, entreat, invoke, supplicate, implore: Preamble, preface, introduction, precede. Precaution, care, forethought. Precede, lead, go before, herald. Precedence, priority, pre-eminence, preference. Preceptor, teacher, tutor, instructor. Precincts, borders, limits, bounds, confines. Precious, valuable, costly, dear, estimable. Precipitate, v. hurry, hasten, cast down. Precipitate, @. hasty, hurried, rash, premature. Precipitous, headlong, rash, steep, beetling. Precision, exactness, accuracy. Preclude, prevent, obviate, hinder, debar. Precursory, preceding, anterior, prior. Predatory, marauding, pillaging, rapacious. Predicamient, situation, condition, state, plight. Predict, foretell, prognosticate, prophesy. Predilection, preference, partiality, bias. Preface, prelude, introduction, preamble. Prefer, choose, fancy, select, raise, exalt. Preference, choice, priority, precedence. Pregnant, prolific, teeming, replete, enciente. Prelude, introduction, preface, prologue. Premature, precipitate, rash, hasty, untimely. Premeditation, forethought, forecast. Premium, recompense, reward, bonus. Preposterous, irrational, foolish, absurd. Prerogative, priyilege, immunity, right. Present, Ss. gift, donation, benefaction. Present, v. offer, exhibit, give, introduce. Presentiment, foreboding, foretaste. Presiding, managing, directing, controlling. Pressure, urgency, exigency, hurry, crushing, Pretence, cloak, mask, garb, pretext, excuse. Pretend, feign, affect, simulate, profess. Pretension, claim, demand, show, pretence. Pretext (see Pretence). Pretty, beautiful, neat, trim, fine, handsome Prevail, predominate, obtain, succeed. Prevailing, proper, prevalent, ruling. Prevaricate, quibble, cavil, shuffle, equivocate Previous, preceding, foregoing, antecedent. Prey, food, victim, sacrifice, spoil, booty. Price, cost, charge, expense, figure, outlay, Priceless, invaluable, inestimable. Prick, puncture, pierce, bore, spur, goad. Priggish, dandified, foppish, affected. Prim, precise, demure, formal, starched. Prime, primal, first, capital, first-rate. Princely, royal, regal, stately, august, noble. Principally, chiefly, essentially, mainly. Print, mark, impress, stamp, imprint. Priority, precedence, preference. Pristine, first, primitive, original, old, former. Privy, secret, private, personal, peculiar. Prize, Ss. scizure, capture, booty, spoil, loot. Prize, v. assess, value, esteem, rate, appraise, Probability, chance, likelihood, appearance. Procedure, proceeding, act, process, course, Proceed, move, pass, advance, arise, issueProcession train, march, caravan, retinue. Proclaim, advertise, announce, publish. Proclamation, degree, edict, ordinance, fiat. Proclivity, propeusity, proneness, tendency. Procrastinate, delay, defer, adjourn, postpone. Procure, obtain, acquire, gain, get, reap. Prodigy, wonder, miracle, marvel, monster. Produce, product, profit, result, effect. Profess, affect, pretend, feign, own. Proffer, volunteer, offer, propose, tender. Proficient, adept, master, expert. Progeny, children, descendants. Progress, advancement, growth, progression. Project, s. design, place, scheme, contrivance. Project, v. shoot, discharge, throw, hurl. Prolific, productive, generative, fertile. Prolix, diffuse, long, prolonged, tedious. Prolong, protract, lengthen, extend, continue. frominent, eminent, conspicuous, marked. f£romiscnous, mixed, unarranged, mingled. vromise, word, engagement, assurance. Promote, encourage, aid, further, advance. Prompt, incite, animate, urge, impel. Prone, inclining, prostrate, flat, tending. Prop, maintain, sustain, support, stay. Prophesy, foretell, predict, prognosticate. Propitiate, conciliate, reconcile. Propitious, fortunate, promising, favorable. Proportion, rate, ratio, degree. Proportionate, adequate, equal, commensurate Proposal, offer, tender, overture, proposition Proprietor, possessor, owner, master. Propriety, expediency, fitness, justness. Prorogue, adiourn, postpone, delay, defer. Prosper, flourish, succeed, grow rich, thrive. . Prosperity, well-being, weal, welfare, happiness. Prostrate, oppressed, trampled on, abject. Protect, defend, vindicate, guard, fortify, save. Protection, shield, defence, preservation, guard. Protest, assert, affirm, declare, predict, aver. Protract, extend, proloug, continue, delay. Protrude, jut, project, bulge, shoot out, suspend. Proud, stately, vain, lofty, arrogant, conceited. Proverb, adage, maxim, aphorism, saying, saw. Provision, food, supplies, clause, duty, function. Proximate, next, immediate, nearest, closest. Proximity, nearness, vicinity, neighborhood. Prudence, carefulness, judgment, discretion. Prurient, itching, craving, hankering, longing. Pry, scrutinize, peep, peer, look into, search. Public, common, general, open, notorious. Pull, draw, haul, gather, drag, tug. Punctilious, trifliugly nice, particular, formal. Punctual, exact, precise, nice, particular. Pungent, acrid, acrimonious, piquant, smart. Punish, chastise, castigate, correct, chasten. Pany, petty, weak, tiny, dwarfish, trivial, trifling. Pupil, scholar, disciple, learner, student, ward. Pupilage, nonage, minority, boyhood. Purify, clarify, clear, cleanse. Purloin, Stal, pilfer, filch. Purpose, propose, intend, mean. Pursue, chase, hunt, track, follow, prosecute. Push, thrust, impel, urge, press, drive. Putative, supposed, reputed, credited, deemed. Putrefy, rot, decompose, corrupt, decay. fee bog, morass, marsh, fen, swamp. uaint, artful, curious, far-fetched, fanciful, odd. Quake, quail, shake, tremble, shudder, quiver: SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Qualification, capacity, fitness, capability. Qualify, fit, competent, adapt, suit, abate. Quantity, amount, sum, deal, portion, part. Quarrelsome, irritable, hot, fiery, irascible. Quarter, territory, district, locality, region. Queer, quaint, whimsical, odd, strange, eccentric, Quell, crush, calm, subdue, repress, suppress. Quench, extinguish, put out, stifle, check, cool. Querulous, complaining, fretting, repining. Query, question, inquiry, interrogatory. Quibble, cavil, evade, equivocate, shuffle. Quiet, v. calm, still, hush, lull, pacify. Quiet, s. ease, rest, repose, quietude, calm. Quit, relinquish, abandon, leave, forego, resign, Quite, altogether, completely, wholly, entirely. Quiver, quake, shake, tremble, vibrate, shiver. Quixotic, romantic, wild, freakish. Quota, share, contingent, proportion, rate. Quote, note, repeat, cite, adduce. RABID, mad, furious, raging, frantic. Rack, agonize, wring, torture, excruciate. Racy, spicy, pungent, smart, spirited, lively. Rage, s. anger, indignation, choler, fury, passion, Rage, uv. storm, rave, fret, chafe, fume. Rail, censure, bluster, scold. Rake, libertine, debauchee, scrape, gather. Rakish, dissolute, licentious, libertine, loose. Rally, banter, mock, ridicule, deride, assemble, Ramble, s. excursion, tour, jaunt. Rasble, v. wander, stroll, roam, rove, range. Rambling, discursive, roving, desultory. Ransack, rummage, pillage, overhaul, explore. Ransom, emancipate, free, unfetter, Rant, bombast, fustian, cant. Rapacious, ravenous, voracious, greedy. Rapine, spoliation, depredatior, robbery, pillage. Rapture, ecstasy, transport, delight, bliss. Rascal, scoundrel, rogue, knave, scamp. Rashness, temerity, precipitation, hastiness. Ratify, confirm, establish, substantiate, sanction. Ravenous, rapacious, greedy, voracious. Raving, distracted, frantic, mad, furious, angry. Raze, demolish, destroy, overthrow, ruin. Reach, touch, stretch, attain, gain, arrive at. Readiness, promptness, alacrity, aptuess, knack. Realize, accomplish, achieve, effect, gain, get. Realin, kingdom, state, nation, empire, province. Reap, gain, get, acquire, obtain. Rear, lift, elevate, erect, breed, raise, train, Reason, S. motive, design, end, argument, proof. Reason, wv. deduce, draw from, trace, infer. Reasonable, intelligent, rational, wise, judicious. Rebellion, insurrection, revolt. Rebound, recall, reverberate. Recall, revoke, reclaim, call back, annul, cancel. Recant, recall, abjure, retract, revoke. Recapitulate, repeat, recite, rehearse, enumerate, Recede, retire, retreat, withdraw, ebb. Receive, accept, take, admit, entertain. Recent, fresh, late, new, novel, modern. Reception, receiving, levee, receipt, admission. Recess, retreat, depth, niche, vacation. Reciprocal, mutual, alternate, interchangeable. Recite, relate, tell, repeat, rehearse, recapitulate: Reckoning, account, bill, charge, score. Reclaim, recall, reform, regain, recover. Recline, lean, rest, repose, lie. ee Recoil, rebound, roll, reverberate, shrink from. Recollect, bear in mind, remember, think of, ~~ RS ee ee he we Sacau Caer ~ ey . hs pa a Se Se ee ee ke eed ie —e a ce o5) ES NE on wea ae ae Ne ee : ont oa ce Re an Pr a eta aN A eeeeh FET nl ~~ ee tia i / | | Yi 3 4 i i : ; Be a ti So SRS deen es aes ee ee efit: ke §88 ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Recommend (See Commend). Reconcilable, placable, forgiving, consistent. Reconcile, conciliate, pacify, propitiate. Record, enroll, note, register, minute, chronicle. Records, annals, monuments, archives. Recreant, cowardly, base, dastardl\, craven. Recreation, sport, pastime, play, amusement. Rectitude, justice, uprightness, integrity, virtue. Recumbent, leaning, lying; resting, reposing- Recur, resort, betake, return, revert. Redolent, odorous, aromatic, fragrant. Redound, tend, conduce, contribute, add. Redundant, superfluous, unnecessary. Re-echo, resound, repeat, ring, reverberate. Reel, stagger, totter, falter, roll. Refer, appeal, allude, advert, relate, belong. Referee, umpire, judge, arbitrator, arbiter. Reference, regard, relation, hint, allusion. Refined, polite, courtly, polished, genteel. Reformation, improvement, reform, amendment. Refresh, revive, valiven, cheer, renew, vivify. Refund, reimburse, pay back, repay, return. Refuse, v. deny, reject, repudiate, decline. Refuse, s. dregs, dross, scum, rubbish, leavings. Refute, disprove, falsify, negative. Regain, recover, retrieve, get back. Regal, royal, kingly, imperial, princely. Regaie, feast, entertain, delight, refresh, gratify. Register (See Record). Rehearse, narrate, repeat, recite, recount, tell. Reimburse, refund, repay, satisfy, indemnify. Rein, restrain, moderate, govern, control. Reject, repel, renounce, decline, refuse. Rejoice, delight, joy, gladden, exult, revel. Rejoinder, retort, parry, reply, answer. Relate, report, tell, recount, narrate, detail. Related, cognate, connected, kindred, akin. Relatives, kindred, kinsmen, relations. Relax, abate, slacken, loosen, soften, relent. Release, free, extricate, disengage, liberate. Relevant, fit, proper, suitable, appropriate. Reliance, trust, hope, dependence, confidence. Relief, succor, aid, help, redress, alleviation. Religious, pious, godly, holy, devout, sacred. Relish, taste, flavor, piquancy, gusto. Reluctant, unwilling, averse, loth, disinclined. Remainder, residue, rest, remnant. Remark, note, heed, comment, observe. Remedial, healing, curative, mitigating. Remedy, help, relief, redress, cure, specific. Remember, recall, recollect, mind. Remnant (See Remainder). Remonstrate, object, protest, expostulate. Remorse, self-condemnation, anguish. Remote, distant, far, secluded, indirect. Remove, displace, dislodge, withdraw, suppress. Rend, tear, disunite, split, lacerate. Render, present, restore, return, requite. Renew, restore, furbish, revive, renovate. Repair, mend, retrieve, recover, restore. Repay, reimburse, reward, refund, return. Repeal, abolish, revoke, recall, reverse, rescind. Repeatedly, again and again, frequently, often. Repel, reject, refuse, deter, repulse, beat back. Repine, grumble, fret, grieve, murmur. Replace, reinstate, refund, restore. Reply, response, answer, rejoinder, replication. Report, announce, notify, tell, communicate. Repose, S. quiet, quietude, peace, ease, rest. Repose, & rest, recline, lie, settle, confide. Represent, paint, sketch, portray, delineate. Representative, agent, commissioner, deputy Repress, quell, crush, subdue, check, curb Reprieve, pardon, acquittal, respite. Reprimand, chide, check, reprove, rebuke. Reproach, blame, taunt, upbraid, rebuke. Reprobate, villain, ruffian, miscreant, castawa'» Reproduce, propagate, imitate, represent, copy- Reprove, chide, rebuke, reprimand, scold. Request, desire, beg, ask, beseech, entreat. Requite, reward, compensate, repay, punish. Rescind, revoke, repeal, annul, recall, reverse: Rescue, save, preserve, recover, recapture. Resent, resist, oppose, repel, rebel. Reserve, shyness, modesty, coyness, reservation Reside, dwell, sojourn, abide, live. Resident, occupant, dweller, tenant, inhabitant. Residue (See Remainder). Resign, relinquish, leave, abandon, abdicate. Resist, withstand, oppose, check, thwart, Resort, uv. fly to, retreat, repair, retire, go. Resort, s. haunt, retreat, recourse. Resound, echo, re-echo, ring, respond. Respect, regard, prefer, venerate, defer. Respite. reprieve, interval, stop, pause. Respond, reply, answer, rejoin, correspond. Restitution, return, reparation, amends. Restive, obstinate, stubborn, impatient. Restrain, repress, check, stop, limit, hinder: Resume, recommence, begin again, renew. Retain, keep, hold, restrain, retard, detain. Retaliate, repay, revenge, requite, retort. Retard, clog, impede, obstruct, detain, defer. Retire, leave, depart, recede, retreat, withdraw Retirement, seclusion, privacy, retreat. Retort, reply, rejoinder, answer, repartee. Retract, recall, revoke, recant, abjure, unsay Retribution, penalty, punishment, requital. Retrieve, recover, rescue, regain, restore. Retrospect, review, reminiscence, survey. Return, reappear, recur, revert, repay. Reveal, disclose, show, divulge, expose, publisix Revel, feast, carouse, luxuriate, banquet. Revenge, vengeance, retaliation, requitat. Revengeful, unforgiving, spiteful, resentful. Revenue, produce, income, fruits, proceeds; Revert, return, recur, refer to. Revise, review, reconsider. Revoke, repeal. retract, rescind, annul, cancel Revolt, rebel, resist, shock. Revolting, shocking, disgusting, frightful. Revolve, turn, circulate, whirl, twirl, wheel, Ridicule, laugh at, deride, mock, lampooun. Rifle, pillage, plunder, sack, strip, rob. Rightful, legitimate, true, lawful, fair. Riot, commotion, tumult, uproar, row, confusia> Ripe, ready, mellow, complete, mature. Rise, arise, mount, ascend, climb. Risible, laughable, ludicrous, comical, funny. Risk, hazard, stake, chance, endanger, dare. Rite, ceremony, observance, solemnity. Rival, antagonist, opponent, competitor. Roam, ramble, rove, wander, stray, stroll. Roar, thunder, peal, howl, yell, vociferate. Robbery, theft, plunder, pillage, larceny. Roll, v. revolve, wheel, trundle, wallow, peal. Roll, s. list, scroll, schedule, register, catalogue, Room, hall, chamber, apartment, space. Round, circular, entire, spherical, complete. Rout, discomfit, beat, defeat, overthrow.SYNONYMS OF THE Route, road, course, march, way, journey, path. Rove, wander, stroli, ramble, roam, Royal (See Regal.) Rubbish, fragments, debris, litter, wreck, dross. Rugged, uneven, jagged, rough, gruff, harsh. Ruinous, destructive, hurtful, deleterious. Rumor, hearsay, talk, fame, report, bruit. Rumple, pucker, crease, wrinkle, crumple. Run, flee, scamper, fly, hasten. Rupture, fracture, breach, burst, disruption, Ruse, trick, stratagem, dodge. Rush, stream, sweep, dash, press, roll. SAFE, sure, secure, certain, substantial, Sake, account, hehalf, purpose, end, regard. Salary, wages, allowance, pay, stipend, hire. Salubrious, healthy, healthful, healing, sanitary. Salutation, greeting, address, welcome. Sameness, identity, oneness, monotony. Sample, specimen, model, pattern, example. Sapient, Sagacious, discerning, knowing, sage. Sarcasm, satire, irony, chaff, ridicule, moc’ ary _ Satiate, glut, gorge, satisfy, surfeit. Satire (See Sarcasin.) Satisfy, please, gratify, convince, satiate, glut. Saturate, steep, soak, imbue. Saucy, impertinent, rude, impudent, insolent. Saunter, ramble, stroll, loiter, linger. Savory, tasty, piquant, tasteful, palatable. Saw, adage, proverb, maxim, byeword, saying. Scale, gamut, layer, flake, balance. Scanty, bare, pinched, insufficient, slender. Scarce, rare, singular, uncommion, unique. Scarcity, dearth, famine, lack, want. scene, spectacle, show, sizht, exhibition, view. Scheme, design, plan, project, theory, intrigue. Scholar, disciple, pupil, student, savant. Science, knowledge, learning, scholarship. Scoff, jibe, jeer, sneer, deride, taunt, twit. Scorn, contempt, disdain, mockery, sneer. Scraggy, lean, bony, thin, skinny, gaunt. Scrap, bit, fragment, crumb, piece, morsel. Scribe, penman, writer, scribbler, scrivener. Scruple, hesitate, doubt, waver. Scrupulous, strict, nice, conscientious, precise. S rutinize, examine, sift, investigate. Season, time, period, occasion, term, spell. Seasonahle, timely, fit, opportune, convenient. Secular, woridly, temporal, civil, lay, profane. Secure, certain, sure, safe, fast, fixed, snug. Sediment, dregs, dross, refuse, lees, grounds, Sedition, insurrection, rebellion, revolt, mutiny. Seem, look, appear. Seemly, fit, suitable, becoming, decent. Seldom, rarely, infrequently. Select, elect, prefer, choose, pick, cull. Sell, vend, dispose of, hawk, retail. Send, transmit, forward, despatch. Seriority, eldership, superiority, priority. Sensibility, feeling, perception, sensitiveness. Sensual, carnal, fleshy, voluptuous, animal. Sentence, decision, judgment, doom, passage, Sequel, end, close, termination, conclusion. Serene, calm, peaceful, unruffied. Series, course, process, succession, order. Serious, grave, solenin, weighty, solid, earnest. Serve, aid, assist, help, york for, forwar/. Service, advantage, use, penefit. | Servile, mean, low, abject, sneaking. Set, put, place, lay, arrange. 2 a ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 58y Settle, arrange, adjust, regulate, organize. Sever, break, disconnect, dissever, separate. Several, sundry, divers, various, many. Shade, shadow, dim, obscure, cloud. Shake, tremble, shudder, shiver, quake, quiver, Shallow, superficial, flimsy, slight, Shame, disgrace, dishonor. Shape, form, fashion, mould, medel. Share, portion, lot, division, quantity, quota. Shatter, shiver, derange, disorder, Shed, pour, effuse, spread, spill, diffuse, Shelter, cover, screen, lodge, protect. Shift, v. transpose, contrive, change, alter, veer. Shift, S$. evasion, expedient, resource. Shine, glow, gleam, glisten, glitter, radiate. Shiver, shatter, break, quake, shudder, quiver. Shock, brunt, clash, blow, collision. Shocking, disgusting, revolting, dreadfvl, Short, brief, concise, curt, compendious. Showy, pompous, gorgeous, fine, gay, grand Shrewd, sharp, acute, sagacious, keen. Shroud, veil, cover. Shudder, shake, tremble, quake, quiver, Shuffle, equivocate, quibble, cavil, evade. Shun, avoid, elude, evade. Shut, close, preclude. Shy, timid, reserved. Sight, seeing, preception, view, vision, specvicie. Signalize, distinguish, exalt, immortalize. Signify, express, declare, intimate, imply. Silence, s. stillness, quiet, calm. Silence, v. gag, refute, hush, stifle. S-lly, simple, imbecile, foolish, witless, unwise. Similar, resembling, alike, corresponding. Sin, wrong, wickedness, iniquity, crime, evii. Sink, droop, descend, suppress, conceal. Sketch, paint, depict, delineate, portray. Skilful, clever, expert, apt, dexterous, adroit Skill, aptitude, expertness, contrivance. Skulk, sneak, hide, cover, slink, shroud, veil. Slack, remiss, careless, negligent, backward. Slacken, loosen, unbind, relax, abate, flag. Slaughter, bloodshed, carnage, butchery. Slavish, drudging, servile, menial, abject. . Slay, kill, murder, assassinate. Sleek, glossy, shiny, velvety, silken. Slender, small, trivial, slight, fragile, slim, thin, Slight, a. slender, slim, small, superficial. Slight, s. neglect, contempt, scorn, disdain. Slippery, smooth, glossy, unsafe, deceptive. Slothful, sluggish, lazy, inactive, idle, indolent. Slovenly, loose, negligent, disorderly, untidy. Slow, dilatory, tardy, sluggish, tedious, dull. Sluggish (See Slothful). Slur, reflection, stain, spot, blemish. po Small, little, diminutive, minute, slight, trivial. Smear, daub, besmear, begrime, varnish. Smell, fragrance, perfume, scent, odor, Smite, beat, strike, slay, kill, afflict, chastex. Smoke, fumes, vapor, nothing, moonshine, Smooth, a. suave, bland, even, level, plain. Smooth, vz. level, flatten, ease, calm, mollify. Snare, trap, net, gin, sp.ing. Snatch, pluck, pull, twitch, catch, clutch, grasp- Sneak, crouch, cringe, truckle, slink, skulk. Sneer, scoff, taunt, jibe, mock. _ See Snub, rebuke, reprimand, humiliate, nip, cilp. Snug, close, compact, concealed, comfortable, Soak, wet, moisten, steep, drench, saturate. Soar, rise, mount, tower, ascend, aspire. LN RE hc ot nae a Ra OE EN a a AC ee Sng gS re Ee NT ee, me a ve ae Cae tee Sr Se payee te ~ a ee a a { r 2 a of | : 3 P| 4 a | pf H ae! od A 4 ot Bs | | ad * & é‘ ete Pe ae Pome Nee Ce ena ber te ae Pe : ' : ; ) | | : Pe ee ee Ok Sbecte Deer te 590 Social, civil, civic, sociable, convivial. Soften, humanize, mollify, mitigate. Sojourn, dwell, reside, lodge, rest, abide, stay. Solace, comfort, consolation, relief, Sole, only, solitary, single, alone, individual. Solicitous, apprehensive, uneasy, concerned. Bolicitude, carefulness, concern, trouble, care. Solve, unriddle, clear up, resolve, explain. Song, ballad, carol, ditty, lay, strain, poem. Soon, shortly, early, quick, quickly, promptly. Sorrow, affliction, distress, grief, trouble. Sound, ring, peal, clash, clang, investigate. Sovereign, regal, royal, imperial, principal. Space, room, interval, extent, expanse, field. Spacious, ample, roomy, capacious, extensive. Spare, uv. afford, give, husband, store, forbear. Spare, a. meagre, scanty, frugal, stinted, lean. Sparkle, shine, flash, gleam, twinkle, glitter. Speak, converse, say, tell, talk, discourse, utter. Special, exceptional, peculiar, specific. Specify, particularize, state, designate, mention. Specimen, model, pattern, sample, illustration Specious, colorable, plausible, showy. Spectator, observer, bystander, onlooker. Speech, oration, address. Speedy, early, quick, fast, rapid, swift, fleet. Spirited, lively, racy, animated, vivacious. Split, cleave, break, burst, crack, divide. Spoil, destroy, mar, impair, injure, plu: de Spontaneous, voluntary, willing, gratuitous. Spot, place, sight, locality, speck, stain, blot. Spring, source, origin, rise, fountain. Sprout, s. shoot, germ, twig, stem, scion. Sprout, v. bud, germinate, shoot forth, spring. Spruce, neat, trim, tidy, foppish, dandified. Spur, goad, incite, urge, stimulate. Spurious, counterfeit, fictitious, unauthentic. Spurn, despise, disdain, scout, Scorn. Spy, see, discern, discover, view. Squalid, foul, filthy, dirty, unclean, mucky. Squander, waste, consume, dissipate. Squeanish, fastidious, over-nice, scrupulous Squeeze, press, pinch, push, gripe, cram. Stagnant, motionless, lifeless, tideless, standing. Staid, steady, sober, demure, grave, sedate. Stalwart, able-bodied, powerful. Stammer, stutter, hesitate, falter. Stand, stop, rest, stagnate, endure, halt. Standard, criterion, measure, gauge, test, rule. Standing, @. stagnant, permanent, fixed. Standing, 5. status, ground, station, position. Starved, famished, lean, ill-fed, emaciated. State, condition, predicament, case, province Stationary, immovable, fixed, motionless. Staunch, steadfast, fast, constant, reliable. Stay, staff, prop, support, buttress, sustainment Steadfast, constant, staunch, firm, resolved. Steady, firm, fixed, constant, regular. Steal, purloin, piifer, filch, embezzle. Steep, precipitous, abrupt, hilly, craggy. Step, pace, degree, grade, track, proceeding. Sterile, unfruitful, barren, desert, unproductive. Stern, harsh, severe, austere, rigid, rigorous. Stick, hold, fasten, adhere, attach, fix. Stigma, mark, brand, infamy, disgrace, blot. Stingy, close, mean, niggardly, sparing. Stint, limit, stop, restrict. Stipulate, bargain, contract, agree on, cngage. Stir, budge, move, agitate, disturb, excite. Stock, hoard, store, fund, supply, accutnulate. ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Stolid, obtuse, heavy-headed, doltish, senseless. Stoop, bend, yield, condescend. Stormy, tempestuous, boisterous, blustering. Story, tale, narrative, incident. Straight, right, direct, undeviating. Strain, stretch, tighten, exert, filter. Stranger, foreigner, alien, Stray, rove, ramble, err, digress, deviate. Stream, current, tide, drift. Strength, power, might, authority, force, vigor. » Stress, emphasis, force, accent, strain, weight. Stretch, spread, expand, extend, lengthen. Stricture, censure, blame, animadversion. Strike, hit, beat, smite. Strip, dennde, divest, bare, despoil, rob, ride, Strive, labor, struggle, aim, coutend, contest. Structure, construction, puilding, edifice, fabric. Studious, diligent, thoughtful, careful, mindfur- Study, thought, consideration, care, attention. Stun, stupefy, confound, bewilder, astonish. Stupendous, astounding, amazing, marvellous. Stupid, stolid, dull, obtuse, heavy-headed. Sturdy, robust, strong, stalwart, muscular. Subject, matter, question, material, exposed. Submerge, inundate, drown, deluge, flood, sink. Submit, succumb, comply, yield. Subsequent, later, posterior, following. Subsist, exist, be, live, continue. } Substitute, deputy, representative, proxy. ae i Subterfuge, evasion, shift, quirk, subtility, dodge. Subtile, fine, thin, rare, delicate, nice, acute. Subtle, cunning, crafty, astute, sly, wily, artful. Subtract, deduct, subduct, withdraw, remove. Succeed, flourish, thrive, prosper, follow. Success, good fortune, prosperity, victory, issue. Successful, fortunate, lucky, happy. Succession, order, series, rotation, lineage, race. Succinct, brief, short, concise, summary. Succumb, yield, submit, comply, resign, give in. Suffocate, smother, strangle, stifle, choke. Suffrage, vote, voice. Suggest, hint, allude, refer, intimate, propose. Sulky, sullen, heavy, dull, sluggish, gloonty. Sum, amount, quantity, total, whole, problem. Summary, short, brief, concise, compendious. Summit, top, height, culmination, acme, apex. Sumimon, call, fetch, cite, bid, challenge. Sumptuous, costly, expensive, dear, valuable. Sunder, part, break, separate, divide, disjoin. Sundry, many, different, several, various, divers Superb, princely, grand, splendid, magnificent. Superficial, shallow, flimsy, slight, imperfect. Superior, higher, upper, noble, head. Superlative, highest, greatest, extreme. Supernatural, miraculous, preternatural. Supersede, overrule, annul, set aside, suspend. Supple, lithe, flexible, pliant, bending, yieldinz Supplement, addition, appendix, postscript. Supporter, adherent, partisan, follower. Suppress, repress, crush, quell, restrain, stifle TASK, business, work, labor, toil, lesson. Tasteless, flat, insipid, mawkish, vapid, dead Tattle, babble, chatter, prattle, gossip. Tautolegy, verbosity, repetition, reiteratic7. Tax, toll, duty, rate, assessment, impost. Teacher, schoolmaster, profess »r, preceptor. Teaching, instruction, trainin , education. Tear, rend, break, lacerate, sever, sunder. Tease, vex, plague, torment, irritate.Temporal, woridly, terrestrial, mundane. Temporize, fence, manceuvre, procrastinate. Tenable, defensible, sound, reasonable. Tenacity, retentiveness, fixity, stubbornness. Tender, v. offer, proffer, produce, bid. Tender, @. mild, kind, bland, indulgent, gentle. Tenet, doctrine, dogma, principle, position. Tenor, meaning, drift, intent, sense, purport. Tension, strain, force, tone, stretch, tightness. Terminate, close, end, conclude, complete, stop. Terrestrial, worldly, earthly, mundane. Terrible, awful, terrific, tremendous, fearful. ferrify, frighten, horrify, appal, scare. Testify, depose, declare, swear, attest, witness. Thankful, grateful, obliged. Thankless, ungracious, profitless, ungrateful. Theft, robbery, depredation, spoliation. Theme, subject, topic, text, essay. Theory, speculation, scheme, plea, hypothesis. Therefore, accordingly, consequently, hence. Thinness, slenderness, attenuation, rarefaction. Thought, idea, conception, imagination, fancy. Thraldom, slavery, enslavement, servitude. Thrilling, stirring, enlivening, awakening. Throb, palpitate, heave, beat. Throw, propel, cast, hurl, fling. Thrust, push, drive, force, impel, urge. Thwart, oppose, oppugn, resist, frustrate. Tickle, amuse, titillate, gratify. Tide, current, stream, course, influx. Tidings, news, intelligence, report, advice. Tidy, orderly, neat, spruce, clean, cleanly. Tie, band, ligament, ligature. Tight, tense, stretched, not slack. Time, duration, season, period, era, age, date. Timely, seasonably, opportune, judicious. Timid, timorous, fearful, afraid, pusillanimous. Tincture, tinge, dye, color, stain, impregnate. Tinge, flavor, taste, color, dye. Tint, shade, tinge, hue, color, stain, dye. Tiny, small, little, diminutive, wee, liliputian. Tip, point, extremity, top, cap. Tipsy, drunk, intoxicated, inebriated, fuddled. Tire, exhaust, fatigue, bore, weary, jade, harass. Tissue, web, fabric, texture. Tittle, jot, whit, iota, atom, grain. Toil, work, task, travail, pain, labor, drudgery. Tolerable, passable, ordinary, middling. Tomb, grave, sepulchre. Tone, style, manner, mode, sound, intonation. Tongue, speech, language, idiom, dialect, talk. Top, summit, apex, head, crown, surface. Topic, subject, theme, question, matter. — orpor, heaviness, lethargy, dullness, laziness. Torrid, burning, hot, parching, scorching. Torture, torment, anguish, agony. Tortuous, twisted, winding, crooked, indirect. Loss, pitch, cast, hurl, shake, rock, buffet. Totally, entirely, quite, altogether, fully. Totter, falter, reel, rock, tremble, shake. Touching, tender, affecting, moving, pathetic. Tough, strong, hard, firm, leatnery, difficult. Tour, excursion, ramble, trip, jaunt, outing. Toy, play, sport, frolic, trifle. Trace, derive, deduce, follow, pursue, track. Track, way, road, path, mark, trace, footprint. Tract, district, region, quarter, plot, essay. Tractable, docile, manageable, amenable. Traditional, oral, uncertain, transmitted. SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Tempestuous, violent, boisterous, stormy, windy. Aen Wed Me wie eS Pee eX ie Se ee ese Se Lae ee eid ee te et Ee eT Tragic, fatal, calamitous, mournful, sorrowful. brat, characteristic, line, feature. Tranquil, still, unruffled, peaceful, quiet. Transact, perform, conduct, manage, treat. Transaction, negotiation, occurrence, affair. Transcend, surmount, overstep, exceed, excel. Transcribe, copy, transfer. Transfer, make over, convey, remove, copy. Transform, change, metamorphose, transfigure. Transgress, pass, exceed, violate, infringe. Transgressor, offender, sinner. Transition, change, shifting, variation: Transparent, clear, limpid, lucid, obvious. Transport, bliss, ecstasy, rapture, carriage, Transpose, change, reverse, shift. Trap, snare, ambush, stratagem, pitfall. Trash, nonsense, twaddle, trifles, dross. Traverse, cross, pass, thwart, obstruct. Treason, treachery, disloyalty, disaffection. Treasure, riches, wealth, stock, store, reserve. Treatise, essay, pamphlet, brochure, tract. Treaty, convention, negotiation, agreement. Tremble, quake, shake, quiver, shudder, totter Tremendous, awful, fearful, frightful, terrible. | Tremulous, trembling, jarring, quivering. Trench, s. drain, sewer, ditch, fosse, moat. Trench, vw. encroach, infringe, invade. Trenchant, cutting, sharp, severe, sarcastic. Trend, incline, diverge, bend, tend, stretch. Trespass, violation, infringement, transgression. Tribulation, affliction, grief, distress, trouble. Trick, fraud, cheat, artifice, stratagem, guile. Trifle, s. bauble, toy, geegaw, kickshaw. Trifle, v. toy, play, dally, wanton. Trim, compact, snug, neat, nice, tidy, ciean. Trite, stale, old, ordinary, commonplace. Triumphant, elated, victorious, exultant. Troop, assemblage, multitude, gang, band. Troublous, trying, troublesome, agitated. Truant, idling, loitering, vagabond, shirking. Truce, armistice, rest, cessation. Truck, genuine, actual, sincere, unaffected. Truly, sincerely, surely, unfailingly. Trumpery, trivial, worthless, tawdry. Trunk, stem, stalk, body, proboscis, chest, box. Trusty, faithful, reliable, strong, firm. Truth, fact, reality, veracity, verity, fidelity. Trying, experimental, testing, proving. Tug, haul, pull, draw, drag, struggle, strive. Tumble, fail, topple, drop, rumple, disturb. Tumult, ferment, outbreak, brawl, fray, riot. Tune, tone, air, melody, strain. Turf, clod, sward, peat, sod, horse-racing. Turncoat, renegade, trimmer, deserter. Turpitude, depravity, vileness, baseness.. __ Tutor, teacher, preceptor, instructor, guardian. Twirl, turn, whirl, revolve, wind. Twit, taunt, mock, jeer, jibe, sneer, scoff. Tyrannical, cruel, severe, absclute, arbitrary. Tyrant, despot, autocrat, oppressor, persecutox ULTERIOR, farther, more, distant, beyond. Ultimate, farthest, last, latest, final, eventual. Umbrage, offence, dissatisfaction, displeasure. Umpire, referee, arbitrator, judge, arbiter. Unanimity, accord, agreement, unity, concord Unadvised, thoughtless, indiscreet, imprudent . Unanimous, agreeing, like-minded. £ Unhind, loosen, untie, unfasten, set-free. rea, Traffic, trade, exchange, commerce, intercourse. 59% are rca PT A RA RR ee a STARE wick ch ee eee Ga 7 ae . oy “2 oF See Se en Oe oes a Re nS ren so ye Pen SS Sa Tot emt oe id eRe ts ee ee ee ee aah ets a Se ek ee Sie : tetPeete Me te Seabatind Ph ch 2 oe ee eee ae wr 4 2 i 7 y ; rt : | 3 i | é * 592 @NCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Wnblemished, pure, spotless, unspotted. Unbounded, boundless, excessive, infinite. Unbridled, wanton, licentious, dissolute, loose. Unceasing, endless, continual, continuous. Wnclean, dirty, foul, filthy, sullied. Uncoucerned, careless, indifferent, apathetic. Uncouth, strange, odd, clumsy, ungainly. Uncover, reveal, strip, expose, lay bare, divest. Under, below, underneath, beneath, lower. Undergo, bear, suffer, endure, experience. Understand, know, comprehend, apprehend. Undertake, engage in, embark in, promise. Unfounded, false, groundless, baseless. Unfriendly, inhospitable, ungenial, unkind. Ungaitiy, clumsy, awkward, lumbering. Unhappiness, misery, wretchedness, distress. Uninterrupted, continuous, perpetual, endless. Unique, unequalled, uncommon, rare, choice. Unite, join, conjoin, combine, connect, add. Unison, harmony, concord, agreement, union. Unity, oneness, concord, uniformity. Universal, general, all, entire, total, catholic. Unreasonable, foolish, silly, absurd, ridiculous. Unrighteous, wrongful, unjust, unfair. Unrivalled, unequalled, unique, unexampled. Unroll, unfold, open, discover. Unruly, ungovernable, unmanageable. Unseen, invisible, unnoticed, unperceived. Unsettle, disturb, derange, displace, ruffle. Untruth, lie, falsehood, fib, fiction, fabrication. Unusual, rare, unwonted, singular, uncommon. Uphold, maintain, defend, sustain, support. Uproar, tumult, row, riot, disturbance, brawl. Upset, overturn, overthrow, overbalance. Usage, custom, fashion, practice, prescription. Use, employ, exercise, occupy, practice, inure. Useless, unserviceable, fruitless, idle, profitless. Usurp, arrogate, seize, appropriate, assume. Utility, benefit, advantage, profit, service. Utmost, farthest, remotest, uttermost, greatest. Utter, a. extreme, excessive, sheer, mere, pure. Utter, v. speak, articulate, pronounce, express. VACANCY, chasin, hollow, cavity, opening. Vacant, empty, unfilled, unoccupied. Vagrant, wanderer, beggar, tramp, vagabond, Vain, useless, fruitless, empty, worthless. Valiant, brave, bold, valorous, courageous, Valor, courage, gallantry, boldness, bravery. Valuable, precious, costly, dear, expensive: Vanish, disappear, fade, melt, dissolve. Vanity, emptiness, conceit, self-conceit. Vanquish, defeat, conquer, subdue, surmount. Vepid, dull, flat, insipid, stale, tame. Vapor, fume, smoke, mist, fog, steain. Variation, change, alteration, diversity. Variance, disagreement, dissension, jarring. Vaunt, boast, bray, puff, hawk, advertise. Veil, s. mask, visor, cloak, blind, screen, shade. Veil, v. screen, hide, intercept, mask, conceal. Velocity, swiftness, quickness, fieetness, speed. Vend, sell, retail, dispose of, hawk. Venerable, grave, sage, wise, old, reverend. Venom, poison, virus, spite, malice, malignity. Vent, opening, touch-hole, outlet, utterance. Venture, dare, adventure, risk, jeopardize. Venturous, veaturesome, intrepid, daring, rash. Veracity, truth, truthfulness, credibility. Werbai, ora., spoken, literai, parole, unwritten. Verdict. iudgment, finding, decision, answer. | | Versed, skilled, practiced, conversant, clev@t. Version, interpretation, reading, rendering. Vex, provoke, tease, torment, harass, plague. Vibrate, oscillate, swing, sway, wave, thrill. Victim, sacrifice, food, prey, sufferer, dupe. Victuals, viands, bread, meat, provisions, fare. View, thought, notion, sentiment, opinion, ene Vigorous, healthy, strong, powerful, energetic. Villainous, base, mean, vile, depraved, knavish. Vindicate, justify, assert, uphold, support. Vindictive, spiteful, resentful, revengeful. Virgin, maid, maiden, girl, damsel. Virtuous, just, upright, moral, chaste, pure. Vision, sight, ghost, apparition, phanton1. Vital, living, necessary, essential, indispensable Vivacious, lively, brisk, gay, merry, Tacy- Vivid, lively, clear, lucid, bright, sunny. Vogue, usage, way, custom, fashion, practice. Volume, book, scroll, bulk, size, capacity. Vecluntary, free, spontancous, unconstrained. Vouch, attest, assure, warrant. Vulgar, common, general, popular, ordinary. Vulnerable, assailable, weak, exposed, tender. WAFT, transport, bear, convey: Wage, make, carry on, engage in, undertake. Waggish, frolicsome, funny, jocular, sportive. Waive, forego, relinquish, let go. Wake, waken, awaken, arouse, stir up, excite. Wakeful, wary, sleepless, watchful, vigilant. Wander, stroli, ramble, gad, rove, roam, urge. Wandering, vagraat, roving, strolling. Warlike, bellicose, martial, military. Ward, avert, parry, fend, repel, turn aside. Warm, affectionate, attached, devoted, ardent. Warning, notice, caution, admonition. Warrant, guarantee, insure, assure, secure. Wary, careful, cautious, circumspect, prudent. Washi, clean, rinse, wet, moisten, ste in, tint. Watchful, alert, vigilant, attentive, cautious. Waver, hesitate, scruple, fluctuate, vacillate. Wavering, unsteady, unsettled, fluctuating. Way, method, plan, system, means, Manner, Wayward, frov ard, obstinate, stubborn, unruly Weak, feeble, infirm, enfecbled, debilitated. Weaken, enfeeble, debilitate, umnerye, dilute. Weakness, feebleness, infirmity, frailty, defect Weal, prosperity, welfare, advantage, well-being. Wealth, riches, opulence, affluence, plenty. é Wear, bear, carry, last, consume. : Wearied, worn, tired, fagged, fatigued. Wearisome, tiresome, toilsome, laborious. Wedding, marriage, nuptials, espousals. Weep, bewail, deplore, bemoan, grieve, mvan. Weight, heaviness, pressure, oppression, load. Wheedle, coax, cajole, flatter, entice, decoy. Whereas, seeing, since, inasmuch as. : Whet, sharpen, incite, excite, provoke. Whirl, turn, revolve, rotate, wheel, veer, Spit. Wholesome, nutritious, healthy, salubricus. Wide, broad, ample, large, expanded, diffuse. Wilfu, perverse, stubborn, self-willed. Wilfully, designedly, purposely, intentionally. Willingly, involuntarily, spontaneously. ‘ : wee fly, mount, ascend, soar, tower. Wisc om, sense, knowledge, learning, prudence, Wish, desire, long for, yearn, hanker, covet. Withstand, oppose, resist, thwart, confront. Wizard, juggler, magician, conjurer, sorcerer. Woe, distress, sorrow, affliction, disaster,SYNONYMS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Work, labor, toil, drudge, strive, exert, ply. Wrongful, unjust, unfair, dishonest, iniquitous Workmanshin, handiwork, handicraft. “Wry, distorted, awry, crooked, Worry, plague, tease, torment, vex, annoy. Worth, price, value, rate e, desert, merit, virtue, YEARN, hanker aft Worthless, useless, valueless, frivolous, corrupt. Yearly, annually, Wrap, muffle, envelop, fold, encase. south, boy, lad, n Wretchedness, misery, woe, distress, Y Wring, twist, wrench, wrest, distort, squeeze. Writer, scribe, penman, author, scribbler. Wrong, abuse, injure, maltreat, oppress. 993 a> ee ne er, long for, desire, crave year by year, per annum. 1inority, adolescence. outhful, young, juvenile, boyish, girlish ZEAL, energy, fervor, ardor, earnestness. Sere ree et Ta Zest, relish, Zusto. flavor. ta =) See ea a Yr sa oy =O — TN ‘ Ag iY 5 HY Nive ar Bei A PERS > AM Alem er Sige 4 vere (fe) Be = (EO Maen Ru G Rye =i ere pe a u SS VACA = : mS of ina a Cows a WATT mh = sit es See 4 (ae sees A ays! % ee # ft | a | Nee 4wee ” lS ae Dr ae. IW OSE PT OS i : | 3 ; : } i (eat Lat) A Sos Gs ee eee ee eae ak © Peele Ls We Sistine Pie Oh" CHAPTER LIL. Foreign Words and Ph rases in Common Use. LATIN WORDS AND PHRASES. db initio: from the beg inning. i Ad captandum vulgus: /o catch the rabble. | Ad infinitum: ¢o infinity, without end. | Ad interim: in the mean time. Ad libitum: az pleasure. Ad referendum : for further consideration. Ad valorem: in proportion to the value. ABquo animo: with an unruffied mind. A fortiori: with stronger reason. Alias: otherwise, as, “‘ jones alias Brown.”’ Alibi: elsewhere. Alma mater: a benign mother ; applied generally to | the University. A mensa et thoro: divorced from bed and board. Amor patric: ¢he love of our country. Anglice: 77 English. Anno Domini: [A.D.] 7 the year of our Lord. Anno Mundi: [A.M.] zm ¢he year of the world. Annus Mirabilis: ¢he year of wonders.—A poem of Dryden’s, so called in commemoration of the great fire of London. A posteriori: from the effect to the cause. A priori: from the cause to the effect. Arcanum: @ secreét. Arcana imperii: state secrets. Argumentum ad hominem: an appeal to the professed principles or pract ices of the adversary. Argumentum ad judicium: a7 appeal to the common- sense of mankind. Argumentum ad fidem: a” appeal to our faith. Argumentum ad populum: a7 appeal to the people. Argumentum ad passiones: an appeal to the passion. Audialteram partem: hear the other party. Bona fide : in good faith; in reality. Cacoéthes scribendi, loquendi: az ztch for writing ; for talking. Capias: a writ to authorize the seizure of the defend- ant’s person. Caput mortuum : ¢he worthless remains. Certiorari: to be made more certain. Ceteris paribus: other circumstances being equal. ‘Commune bonum : @ common good. Compos mentis: 27 one's Senses; a man of sane mind. Contra: against. Contra bonos mores : against good morals or manners. Cui bono? Cui malo? to what good—to what evil will at tend? §94 Cum privilegio: with privilege, with peculiar privilege Currente calamo: with a running pen: with grea rapidity. Custos rotulorum: the keeper of the rolls and recora. Data: things given or granted. De facto: in fact, in reality. De jure: 77 right, in law. Dei gratia: by the grace or favor of God. De mortuis nil nisi bonum: let nothing be said of th dead but what is favorable. Deo favente—juvante—volente: with God’s favor help—will. Desideratum: a thing desired. Desunt cetera: the remainder ts wanting. Dies faustus: a@ lucky day—dies infaustus, an unluck | day. | Domine, dirige nos: O Lord, direct us. Dramatis persone: the characters of the drama, or, th characters represented. Durante vita: during life. Durante placito: during pleasure. Ecce homo: dehold the man. Ergo: therefore. Esto perpetua: ef af be perpetual. Errata: errors—erratum, a7 error. Et cetera: and the vest, and so on. Excerpta: extracts. Exempli gratia: dy way of example: (contracted, FZ. g-, Ex officio: by virtue of his office. Ex parte: 07 ove S ide; an ‘ex parte’’ statement, that y is, @ One-SIMEA f | | | | and Ea. gr.] slatement. Ex tempore, or, as an Englisb word, extempore : with out premeditation, wt hout previous study. | Fac simile, or, as an English word, facsimile: @7 en- craved or lithographed reseniblance of hand-writing Fas est et ab hoste doceri: 7 is allowable to derive in- struction even from an enemy. Felo de se: a suicide: in law applied to one who is supposed to have killed himself when in a sound state of mind. Fiat: det it be done. Fiat justitia, ruat coelum: let justice be done, though the heavens should fall. Filius nullius: av illegitimate son, the son of nobody Flagraute bello: during hostilities. Gratis: for nothing, gratuitously.aA ¥ “Vy FOREIGN WORDS AND Hine illee lacrimee: hence proceed those tears. Hora fugit: 22 flies, or the hour flies, Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto: Jam PHRASES IN COMMON USE. Bor 22 black and white. a Locum teuens: @ dep ; 1h : uty, a substitute, man, and deem nothing that relates to mankind, a foreign to my feelings. Hortus siccus: @ collection of the leaves of plants in dried state. Humanum est errare: 20 err 2s human. Ibidem : 27 ¢he same place: [contracted, tbid.1 Idem: the same. Idest: zhat is¢ [contracted, z. ¢.] Id genus omne: all persons of that description. Ignis fatuus: ¢2hé meteor, or electrical phenomenon called ‘‘ Will-o’-the-wisp.”* Ignoramus: @ conceited ignorant pretender to know)- eage or learning In loco: iz this place. Amprimatur: ded zt be printed. Imprimis: 22 the first place. Impromptu: wzthout study. {n commendam: in trust, {n terrorem: as @ warning. In propria persona: zz person. | in statu quo: zz che former siale: just as was. In forma pauperis: @s @ poor man, In fore conscientize: before the tribunal of conscience. In res 2% the matter of. Index expurgatorius: @ purifying index. Iniquissimam pacem justissimo bello antefero: f prefer thé most disadvaniageous peace to the justest war. [The favorite maxim of Fox.] Innuendo: an oblique hint or insinuation. In transitu: 72 passing. Inter nos: between ourselves. bivita Minerva: w7thoud the aid of genius. ipse dixit: on” his sole assertion ; he himself said tt. ipso facto: by the act ttself, Ipso jure: dy the daw ee . BP a : 3 4 hae | A a mg“ 602 42. _ 143. 144. ~ Fd5e “46. ‘AT. 148. 149. 150. 151. 152. 153: 154. 155- 156. FSG. 158. 159. 160. 161. 62. 163. 164. 165. 166. 167. 168. 169. £70. 171. 172. 173. 174. (75. 176. 7 £78. 479. What sort of a face does an auctioneer like best? Why is the letter F like a cow’s tail? What is the difference between a husbandman and a seamstress? What is it of which we have two every year, two every week, and two every day? Hw does a boy look if you hurt him? What medicine ought to be given to misers? Why do British soldiers never run away? What weight or measure would no conipetitor wish to be? What part of a railway carriage resembles Fanny when she is sleepy? Why is the letter R most important to young people? Why is a healthy boy like England? When is a book like a prisoner in the States of Barbary? What wind would a hungry sailor prefer? On which side of a pitcher is the handle? When may a chair be said to dislike your What is that which divides by uniting and anites by dividing? Why are young children like castles in the air? What is higher and handsomer when the head is off? Why is a proud girl like a music-book? Why is a short negro like a white man ? Why are bells the most obedient of inanimate things? Why are boxes at a theatre the saddest places of public amusement? Why is the most discontented man the most easily satisfied ? Why are ripe potatoes in the ground like thieves? Why is it unjust to blame cabmen for cheating us? When is a thief like a reporter? When is the French nation like a baby? What does a lamp-post become when the lamip is removed? What things increase the more you contract them? Why is a mother who spoils her children like a person building castles in the air? When you listen to your little brother’s drum, why are you like a just judge? When is a tourist in Ireland like a donkey? Who always sits with his hat on before the Queen? Why is a pig in the drawing room like a house on fire? When is a river not a river? What trade never turns to the left? What trade is more than full? Why is electricity like the police when they are wanted? . When is a borough like a ship? fe a PL 181. 182. 183. 184. 185. 186. 187. 188. 185. 190. I9I. 192. 193. 194. 201. 206. 207. 208. 209. 210. orl. 212. 213: 214. 215. 216. O17. ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. Why are guns like trees? What town is drawn more frequently than any other? Who was the first postman ? Why is little Prince Albert Victor like the twe things in which children most rejoice? What is the key-note to good breeding? What is the difference between a sailor and a sot. dier? Why is a rook like a farmer? Why is anger like a potato? Why does pedestrianism help arithmetic? What trees are those which are the same aft» being burned as they were before? What isthe best thing to do in a hurry? Why are cobblers like Sir William Ferguson} Which is the ugliest hood ever worn? ; What nation will always overcome in the end? { . When is butter like Irish children? . On what tree would an ode be written whick would name an Irish M. P.? 7. What have you now before you which would give you a company, a veiled lady, and a noisy toy? -_ What is the difference between Kossuth and a half-starved oyster? 9. If Neptune lost his dominions, what would he say? . Why is a Dorcas Society like an assembly of dis honest people? It went before Queen Mary—poor thing! It fol lowed King William to the end—poor man! . Why is the letter A like noon? . Why isa five pound note more than five sovet eigns? . When was the greatest destruction of poultry? . In what respects were the Governments of Algiers and Malta as different as light from darkness? When is a young lady’s cheek not a cheek? When is her nose not a nose? When is a boy not a boy? When is a ship foolishly in love? When is a ship like Harry’s mamma? What part of London would a horse most like to live in? What do you put before nine to make it three less by the addition ? Why should you neyer attempt to catch the 12.50 train? Who is the best pew-opener ? Given A BC, to find Q. Which is the easier profession, a doctor’s or 8 clergyman’s? What word of four syllables represents Sin riding on a little animal?are fe Se eh hy ite tee would the sun become? 719. Why is a tallow chandler the most unfortunate of all mankind? 220. What is it that walks with its head downwards? 221. Why are the hours from one to twelve like good Christians ? 222. Why is a hen walking across the road like a con- spiracy ? 223. O11 which side of the church is the yew-tree planted ? 224. Why cannot Napoleon III insure his life? 225. How many wives does the Prayer-book allow? CONUNDRUMS. #18, If I were in the sun and you ont of it, what Ie ae ee 226. Why have ducks no hereafter? 227. Why is a dog with a lame leg likea boy at ith metic ? 228. Why is an engine-driver like a school-master? 229. What will a leaden bullet become in water? 230. Why is a person of short stature like an almanac? 231. Why is the smoke of tobacco like Port wine? 232. Why is a photograph like a member of Parlias ment ? . 233. Why is London Bridge like merit ? 234. That which every one requires, that which every. one gives, that which every one asks, and that which very few take. ANSWERS TO CONUNDRUMS., 1. Into his fortieth year. 2. The elder tree. 3. Pepper and salt. 4. Because they practice their professions. 5. She pulled his ears and trod on his corn. 6. Because they are the weaker vesseiz 7. When long experience has meade him sage 8. Englishmen. In Scotland there are men of Ayr (air), in Ireland men of Cork; but m England are lightermen. g. K. N. (Cayenne). Io. Because when you separate the head from the body, you don’t take it from the trunk. 11. The footman. 12. Smo-king and soa-king. 13. When it has a hole in it. 14. Because it covers its face with its hands, and runs down its own works. 15. Because it is always in fun. 16. Because they have ears which can’t hear, eyes which cannot see. 17. Caper sauce. 18. Because she’s a-mountain ! 19. It never does right (write) of itself. 20. Because Gee (G) makes it go? 21. Because they make people steel (steal) pens, and say they do write (right). 22. Because the train always runs over sleepers. 23. When it is a-drift. 24. Columéus. 25. Chap. I. 26. Because it is a head (s) centre. 27. He is an India gent (indigent). 28. A muggy day. 29. One is hard up and the other soft down. 30. Yes; they are Macaw-lays (Macaulays). 31. Inn-attention. 32. Mouse. 33. When he sits down to wine (whine) and pine. 34. Bank notes, and they make (four) fortunes. 5 35 When he takes a roll in bed. 36. Because he runs for cups, plates, and stakes (steaks). 37- When there’s a leek (leak) in it. “8. Stone. 39. When they are mustered (mustard). 40. It makes oil, doil. 41. Because it makes-ice into vice. 42. Quick. 43- One skims milk and the other skims water. 44. The elephant the most, because he carries a trunk. The fox and cock the least, as tliey have only a brush and comb between them. 45. None; they are all carried to it. 46. Because there was a heavy swell on the beach and a little cove running up into the land. (This riddle is a slang one.) 47. Because they banished the whites and cast of their yoke (yolk). 48. A policeman w! en he is wanted. 49. 4 pig, because he is killed first and cured after wards. 50. The one who has the largest head. 51. When it is a little tart. 52. Because the cabman always drives over your head. 53- Because they sell what they knead (need) them- selves. 54. Because it is uttered but not allowed (alond). 55. The Great Bear (grate bare). 56. Putting the fire out. 57. His daughter. 5%, When she is turtied into a field. 59. Because they are in-sects. 60. Because he thought it a good opening for a young man. 61. Because he is ’listed, trained, has ten drills (ten- drils), and shoots. 62. ‘The half, because the full moon is as light again. 63. When the hedges are shooting and the bull-rush#A out. 64. Because his is all net profit. ee ee oak A Se et Cente OE § SER Re te Sonn er ts coco so iia Ree re meen a rs ee tee Bait _ : 13, i gated ' my “oN “62a ey So ceaea age SIN Se oe Nn eaeneemmenetiaiiatiadiiae eee ar ae ? r Bela ee ANS en yt) Pan ir3 x wi Fe ate al nel Paw 8 si ~via td nl ———s a [oS Se ee ee ee ena ta aia apo neta 3 P el Sl lan hed a er . ~~ ee aad :. b S i) ¥ ¢ A ; i ¥ fi é oP } G5. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. OTs q2 73: 74 75- + 76. 77> 78. 79- 8o. 8I. 82. §3. 84. 85. 87. 88. 89. go. gi. 92. 95 94- 95: i 97- > 99- 100. IOI. 502. 103 %O4 105. 706. 107. 108. 109 IIo. III. Ei2- ° <= : Ashes. Because we cannot get on (O N) well without them. To make your waistcoat first. Because he shows an open countenance in the act of taking you in. Because there’s always a better. Because for every grain they eat they give a pe When she wishes for a mate. A step-father (farther). A scarlet runner. Because it is not current ( currant), Nothing. It is matchless. ecause he is guided by the directions of stran- gers. A noise. C P O (Scipio). It would be making game of him. She is your mother. A player. It is between two seas (C’s). It has no scruples. Because it is one of the great composers of modern times. When he is a-loft. For diver’s reasons. Sixteen ounces in one pound. Two boots. A hypocrite neat, Can best count her feet (counterfeit), And so, I suppose, Can best count her toes. The date. Crke, because it is only sometimes tipsy, while wine is often drunk. Because it ought tobe carried out. Because he often feels a great deal bored ( When he is within the pound. Striking her own fiag. It had better be (sown) sewn. Because it is deyoid of ease (E’s)-—there E’s in the word comfort). Two T’s (to tease). XL lent (excellent). When it is crossed. Because it often changes its notes, He knows how to stretch his bill. C D (seedy). The ‘‘Weekly (weakly} News.” Poe. A-gate. When he is hale (hail). Shooting stars. Leeks. When she poaches eggs. Y (why ?). arn) y\OaTC j. io ee | - ee —_ eo CON Gn hs Go . ° : es Con peel emer — bl he ¢ ¢ ; nun hp W : ° sar seen tC POL OEE, are no Ny OW _ ° t in cu oon Own . When it can’t bea ee | a DnnawaUan mt NO... CO by ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. . When it is due (dew). A sheep-pen When it is under consideration. He knows the value of his sovereign, It is always in waiting. For-tune. They are next the sea (Cy. When it is a rye (awry) field. Because it will make an eel feel. I; : : W (I dou ible you). secause it is sent (scent) wherever it goes A dripping Par MS it is a little bare (bear). Letter M. a ke e to be drowned. —~ When it rises and takes a fly. When we see a rash man eating a rasher W is he is a regular brick. When it is made into a ruler. When it is full of knots. A river. Facetious. Largess (S). It is drawn with a drag on (dragon). Recause it is in bliss while most of the others ai in Purgatory. 3ecause you would get bad habits from him. They correspond, but never meet. Because he soonest takes a fence (takes offence). One that is for-bidding. It is the end of beef. The one are what he sows; the other sew what she gathers. Vowels. It makes him yell ‘‘Oh ” (yellow). Anti-money (antimony). Because they belong to the standing army The last. The wheel, because it is tired. Because without it we should have neither Christ tnas nor a New Year. He pos2rsses a good constitution. When it is bound in Morocco. One that blows foul (fowl) and chops about. The outside r you. Scissors. Because their existence is only in-fancy. A pillow. She is full of airs. He is not at all black (a tall black). Because they make a noise whenever the af tolled (told). Because they are always in tiers (in tears). Nothing satisfies him.CONUNDRUMS, ; ¢ : * 4 163. They otighc tc be taken up. double it, and wh 66. Because we call them to take usin. | in creases, eee yond 67. When he takes notes. ‘68. When it is in arms. 169, A lamp lighter. 170. Debts. 171. She indulges in-fancy too much. 172. Because you hear both sides. 173. When he is going to Bray. 174. Her coachman. 175. Because the sooner it is put out the better. 176. When it is eye water (high water). 177. A wheelwright. 178. Fuller. 179. Because it is an invisible force. 180. When it is under canvass. 181. People plant them and they shoot. 182. Cork. 183. Cadmus. He carried letters from Phcenicie. to Greece. 184. He is the sun and air (son and heir’, of Eneiand. 185. B natural. 186, One tars his ropes, the other pitches his tut. 187. He gets his grub by the plough. 188. It shoots from the eye. 189. It is a Walkinghame (walking game) 190. Ashes. 191. Nothing. 192. They are skilled in the art of heeling (healing). 193. Falsehood. 194. Determi-nation. ‘195. When it is made into little Pats. 196. Ode on a yew (O’Donoghue), 197. Co-nun-drum. 198. One is a native of Hungary, the other a hungry native. 199. I have not a notion (I have nct an ocean). 200. It is very sew-sew (so-SQ) society. 201. Letter M. 202. It comes in the middle of the day. 203. Because when you put it in your pocket you 204. When King Claudius of Denmark did “ murde: most foul’’ (fowl). 205. The one was governed by deys (days), the othe by knights (nights). 206. When it’s a little pale (pail). 207. When it’s a little reddish (radish). 208. When he is a spoon. 209. When she is anchoring (hankering) after a swell, 210. When she is attached to a buoy (boy). 211. Gray’s Inn (Grazing) Lane. 212. S IX (S added). | 213. Because it would be 10 to 1 if you caught it, 214. One bob (2. ¢., one shilling). 215. Take C A B, and drive through Hammersinith ts find Kew (Q). 216, A clergyman: he preaches, the doctor practices. 217. Sin-on-a-mouse (synonymous), 218, Sin. 219. Because all his works are wick-ed, and all his wick-ed works are brought to light. 220. A nail in a shoe. 221. Because they are always on the watch. 222. It is a fowl (foul) proceeding. 223. The outside. 224. Because no man living is able to make out his policy. 225. Sixteen: for (four) richer, for (four) poorer, for (four) better, for (four) worse. 226. Because they have their necks twirled in this. (Next world sounds like necks twirled.) 227, He puts down three and carries one. 228. Because one trains the mind, and the other minds the train. 229. Wet. 230. Because he is often overlooked or looked ever. 231. Because it comes out of a pipe. 232. Because it is a representative. 233. It is often passed over. s tle 234. Advice. Sian : BEC EATATMTMIII ini iS EE each tanta tate SY AIOE: $ G a me AK FAFA FOX FOX TOR IOK FAK ALAA AR ALK ae Rae es COR ek oa men CU s en a oA ee oe a ree 2 ao oA ee ta as 3 oe | Fat Ks ° tee ee ie 4 ; oe ES 2) eee we i: q Be : a 4 $3 Ee oa Ee ce RE ne RACE RE NC eranee ae Le = a lad : ! : { : i i ( i | ~ CEA Stes Coa Sees eet at al oer PR Pee Pee as Sills nal PDE BOOK VI. hoice Selections of Poetry from the Wor d’s Best Authors. Daughters of Toil. PALE with want and still despair, And faint with hastening others’ gain! Whose finely fibered natures bear The double curse of work and pain ; Whose days are long with toil unpaid, And short to meet the crowding want, Whose nights are short for rest delayed, And long for stealthy fears to haunt— To whom my lady, hearing faint The distance-muffled cry of need, Grants, through some alms-dispensing’ saint, The cup of water, cold indeed; The while my lord, pursuing gains Amid the market’s sordid strife, With wageless labor from your veins Wrings out the warm, red wine of life,— What hope for you that better days Shall climb the yet unreddened east? When famine in the morning slays, Why look for joy at mid-day feast? Far shines the Good, and faintly throws A doubtful gleam through mist and rain}; But evil Darkness presses close His face against the window-pane. What hope for you that mansions free Await in some diviner sphere, Whose sapphire walls can never be Devoured, like widows’ houses here? Too close these narrow walls incline, This slender daylight beams too pale, For Heaven’s all-loving warmth to shine, Or God’s blue tenderness avail. O brothers! sisters! who would fain Some balm of healing help apply— Cheer some one agony of pain, One note of some despairing cry— ee Whose good designs uncertain wait, sy tangled social bands perplexed, O. read the sacred sentence straight: Do justice first—love mercy next! EVvANGELINE M. JOHNSON. Farm Ballad. HEN I start my plow a-runnin’ in the black and meller ground And the land is growin’ smaller that my horses tramps around ; When the white-oak buds are openin’ and grass a- growin’ green, Makes a feller think of summer as he gazes on the SCENE « When the chipmunk runs and chatters ‘cause the T 4 plough his den ’as torn, An’ the crows are loudly scoldin’ ’bout the plantin’ of the corn; When the bluebird hollers out a rail and starts to build a nest, | Then I think that that’s the time o’ year I kind o’ like the best; But it’s mighty nice, I tell you, when the summer time is here, With the wheat a growin’ yeller and the harvest drawin’ near ; With the timothy in blossom and the hayin’ just at hand, An’ the mother quail a-callin’ to her peepin’ little band. Oh, I like to watch the woolly clouds a-floatin’ far away As I’m ridin’ on the mower or rakin’ up the hay. Then I somehow seem acquainted with each bird or bumblebee, An’ I think the golden summer is the time o’ year for me.Hiow Three Were Made One. CANNIBAL MAID and her Hottentot Blade— BG They met in a rocky defile; A gay eagle plume was his only costume, The lady was wrapt in a—smile, Together they strolled, and his passion he told In pleading and tremulous tone, Whiie softly they trod on the blossom-strewn sod, And spooned in the twilight alone. Then sweetly she sighed as she shyly replied, With tender and fairy-like mien; She murmured the word, when a war whoop was heard— A rival had burst on the scene, A savage Zulu to the trysting place drew, Demanding his Cannibal bride; But the Hottentot said, with a toss of his head, ‘Tl have thy degenerate hide! ”’ The Hottentot flew at the savage Zulu, The Zulu he went for the Blade, And fiercely they vied in their strength and their pride, And fought for the Cannibal Maid. She perched ona stone, with a shapely shinbone Clasped tight in her tapering arms, And watched the blood fly with a love-laden eye While the warriors fought for her charms. When fiercer they fought and the ringing blows caught With thrust and with parry and punch, She said, with a smile, ‘‘In a very short while I will have those two fellows for lunch. ”’ The purple blood flows from the Hottentot’s nose, The Zulu is struck by the Blade ; Then each of them sighed, a gasping—he died, And looked on the Cannibal Maid. She made a nice stew of the savage Zulu, And scrambled the Hottentot’s hrains— Twas a dainty menu when the cooking was through, And she dined on her lovers’ remains. [he savage Zulu and the Hottentot, too, Both sleep in a Cannibal tomb ; The three were made one, and the story is done— The maiden strolled off in the gloom. EDWARD H. PEALE. A Doubtful Welcome. LAS!” said the tramp, ‘‘I am hungry and PV SOTe ; Is there no one to pity my plight? ”’ “Oh, yes,’ cried the dog, as he sharpened his teeth, *Comein, and I’li give you a bite. ” CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The Present. 6 not crouch to-day, and worship : The old Past, whose life is fled: Hush your voice with tenderreverenee: Crowned he lies, but cold and dead: For the Present reigns our monarch, With an added weight c “ hours: Honor her, for she is might, ! Honor her, for she is ours! See, the shadows of his heroes Girt around her cloudy throne; Every day the ranks are strengthened By great hearts to him unknown; Noble things the great Past promised ; Holy dreams, both strange and news But the Present shall fulfill them, What he promised, she shall do. She inherits all his treasures, She is heir to all his fame; And the light thai lightens round her Is the Instre of his name. She is wise with all his wisdom, Living on his grave she stands: On her brow she bears his laurels, And his harvest in her hands. Coward, can she reign and conquer If we thus her glory dim? Let us fight for her as nobly As our fathers fought for him. God, who crowns the dying ages, Bids her rule and us obey :— Bids her cast our lives before her, Bids us serve the great To-day. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER, ‘And Then the Band Played.” oy Iam so happy,” a gushing girl said, «@) As she sat on the beach by the summer hotei, And gave a slight toss to her bonnetless head, As her spirits arose with each incoming swell; ‘But one thing is wanting to render complete, The happiness I am enjoying to-day, And that is to hear the grand music so sweet, When the evening creeps on, and we hear the band play?” ‘‘ And I, too, am happy,’’ responded a wife, As she sat by her friend in the soft, yielding sand; ‘‘For ’tis Saturday now, and the bustle and life, When the men from the city come down will & grand. ‘‘Oh, yes, I’m so happy, because you see, dear, Our life here’s expensive as well as so gay, And happy and easy I feel when I hear, That my band—yes, mv hus-band—has come dows to pay. . a Ia Pi ACG aM PTT RE 5 AS shes ae a KI: Poe le rt = “ Mia en B a* i Meth ? ee Sekt ee r e5:2S. EH Rad pain lnncece ARPT D Bae m bien nar RATE CTS OL Re RT a I Rg eee eS She ee : . ene Ps A i ee ee ee a a ee ae See Sry fin cn stad Rane, % ee a nae Pee ev Se Pa we I a waEn lene ~ ae ed ; | i | ‘ | : ; | | TA A ak es alla sta Ot elie ke ier ot ad ee OP As Subsite PLT OE CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Ruth. HE stood breast high amid the corn, Clasped by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won. On her cheek an autumn flush Deeply ripened ;—such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell— Which were blackest none could tell; But long lashes veiled a light ‘hat had else been all too bright. And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim ;— "hus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks. Sure, I said, Heaven did not mean Where Ireap thou shovldst but glean ; Lay thy sheaf adown, and come, Share my harvest and my home. THomas Hoop. —_——_—_—_—_— If Our Old Clock Could Speak. iT isn’t a scrumptious thing to see— i It’s rather short o’paint— Its brows will always wrinkled be— Its tick is growin’ faint; The circulation’s noways good— The j‘ints too stiffly play— it some’t of’ner than it should, Forgits the time o’day ; “Twill stop an’ try to recollect For somethin’ like a week ; fut there’d be music, J suspect, {f our ol’ clock could speak. ¥n rain or shine, through peace an’ war, It’s still been, as appears, a member of our family for Some five an’ fifty years ; {t’s stood right there, through thick an’ thin, An’ kap’ track of the sun, An’ raked its own opinions in Bout what we mortals done ; {t’s hed good watch o’ young an’ old (An’ looked so mild an’ meek !) Some anecdotes ther’ would be told If our old clock could speak ! It’s stood aroun’ at every meal, Mid clash o’ plate and cup. An’ heard us our id’s reveal, An’ size the neighbors up ; It’s traced our little bickerin’s, too, An’ seemed to sympathize, A squintin’ softly at us through Them solemn key-hole eyes; Its umpired many a lively game ©’ social hide-an’seek ; Twould score a number o’ the same, Providin’ it could speak! How our folks drove to town one day, An’ lef’ us chilrun free With self-protectin’ things to play, ‘But let the ol’ clock be;”’ An’ though we young *ans (never still} Hadn’t thought o’ that before, We now couldn’t let it ‘lone, until It crashed down on the floor! We tremblin’ set it up again, Half-runnin’ with a squeak ; Twas lucky for our jackets, then, The critter couldn’t speak ! How ol’ folks went to church, one nighy, An’ left us all—sly elves— If we’d conduct there—good an’ right A meetin’ by ourselves ; But neighbor gals an’ boys in teens Walked in—an’ first we knew, We fell to playin’ ‘‘ Oats peas beans,” ‘Snap up and catch ’em,’’ too; We scattered, when, by good ear-luck, She heard the big gate creak ; The ol’ clock frowned an’ ticked an’struck But couldn’t make out to speak | Ah me! the facts ’twould just let fly, Suppose it had the power! ¢ : Of-courtin’ chaps, when, on the sly, They turned it back an hour; Of weddin’s—holdin’ tender yet, The bride’s last virgin grace; Of fun’rals—where it peeped to get A good look at the face: It knows the inside-out 0’ folks— ‘An’ nature’s every freak ; I’d write a book if I could coax That wise ol’ clock to speak | Still straight as any gun it stan’s Ag’in the kitchen wall ; An’ slowly waves its solemn han’s Outlivin’ of us all! I venerate some clocks I’ve seen, As e’en almost sublime: They form revolvin’ links between Eternity an’ time. An’ when you come to take the pars To strike a dreamy streak, The figurative fact remains That all the clocks can speak. Wrr,t, CARLETON.CHOICE SELECTIONS J POETRY. My Love. OT as all other women are Is she that to my soul is dear; Her glorious fancies come from far, Beneath the silvery evening star; And yet her heart is ever neur. Great feelings hath she of her own, Which lesser souls may never know ¢ God giveth them to her alone, And sweet they are as any tone Wherewith the wind may choose to blow, Yet in herself she dwelleth not, Although no home were half so fair; No simplest duty is forgot; Life hath no dim and lowly spot That doth not in her sunshine share. She doeth little kindnesses Which most leave undone, or despise; For naught that sets one heart at ease, And giveth happiness or peace, Is low-esteemed in her eyes. She hath no scorn of common things’ And though she seem of other birth, Round us her heart entwines and clings, And patiently she folds her wings To tread the humble paths of earth. Blessing she is: God made her so; And deeds of week-day holiness Fall from her noiseless as the snow; Nor hath she ever chanced to know That aught were easier than to bless. She is most fair, and thereunto Her life doth rightly harmonize; #eeling or thought that was not true Ne’er made less beautiful the blue Unclouded heaven of her eyes. She is a woman; one in whom The spring-time of her childish years Hath never lost its fresh perfume, Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears. I love her with a love as still As a broad river’s peaceful might, Which by high tower and lowly mill Goes wandering at its own will, And yet doth ever flow aright. And on its full, deep breast serene, Like quiet isles, my duties lie; It flows around them and between, And makes them fresh and fair and green, Sweet homes wherein to live and die. JAMES RussF’ =. LOWELL ere es pe 613 To An English Sparrow. S IT spring time, my pert little sparrow ? | I hear your voice, honest and shrill. I see you out there on the narrow Promenade of my bleak window-sill, When the blues came, my spirit to harrow; You darted in sight like an arrow, Piping, ‘‘Cheer up! Cheer up!” So loud on your tiny, blithe quill. I like you, my brave, saucy Briton, You’ve a way that has captured my heart ; And though others your failings may twit ox, I’m a friend that will e’er take your part. And as much as you wish you may sit on My sill which you often have lit on, Singing, ‘‘Cheer up! Cheer up! ”* With a fervor much sweeter than art. Few people, I know, praise your singing, And I own that your harsh vocal powers Can’t compete with the robin’s voice ringing Every June in the lush morning hours; I confess that the lark, upward winging, And the bobolink’s silver throat flinging ‘Bobolink ! Bobolink !”’ Add a charm to the seasons of flowers. But when winds of midwinter were blowing, And the window panes rattled with sleet; And the heavens were gray, aud ’twas snowing, What became of those visitors sweet ? When we need them most, they were going, But you stayed, your stout heart overflowing In that ‘‘ Cheer up! Cheer up!”’ Which I’ve heard you so often repeat. Your enemies say you’re a fighter. Ah, well, what of that? Soam TI. I will sing if ’tis darker or lighter; You have taught me a gay battlecry. When fortune’s against me, despite her, I will wait for the days that are brighter, Singing ‘‘ Cheer up! Cheer up! ”’ I will fight and will sing till I die. GEORGE HorRTo: —— A Death-Bed. ER sufferings ended with the day, Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away In statue-like repose. But when the sun in all its state Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through Glory’s morning gate, And walked in paradise. JAMES ALDRICE. Sa NS ONO a mn a a ee. 3 oe a on ae i st ry ee | ; | 4 “a i 3 5 re KM , fr ees # i 5 ee | ie i] a esTeed ea hee ~eees ce ee ; : { f F } i 1 A OER NERY LVR M OS Me NET he wan ecko geting 614 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The Old World and the New. N happy climes the seat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules ; Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools : There shall be sung ancther golden age, The rise of empire and of arts; The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts. Not such as Europe breeds in her decay — Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung. Westward the course of empire takes its way * The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; -sayne’s noblest offspring is his last. GEORGE BERKELEY. NE The Old Barn. E barn, the old barn, oh! its dark walls were rife With the records most fair in my tablet of life ; And a rare barn it was, for search twenty miles yound, guch another brave building was not to be found. "T'was large as an ark, twas as strong as a church, “Twas the chicken’s resort, ‘twas the young raven’s perch ; There the bat flapped his wings, and the owlet might screech, Secure in the gable-ends, far out of reach. Por many a year had the harvest-home wain Creaked up to its door with the last load of grain ; And ’twas evident time had been playing his pranks With the moss-garnished roof and the storm-beaten planks. A wee thing, they tumbled me into its mow }; And left me to scramble out, Heaven knows how, A wild, merry girl, the old barn was the spot Which afforded delight that is still unforgot. "Twas a birthday, one scion was walking life’s stage, In youth’s proudest of characters—just come of age ; Many joys were devised—but the chosen of all Was to clear out the old barn, and “‘ get up a ball.” We had prayed, we had hoped that the lanes might be dry, That no cloud would come over the moon-lighted sky ; But, alas! *twas November, and fog, sleet, and gloom Made the night of our jubilee dark us the tomb. { But, hark!—what loud voices—what rumbling of wheels— What stepping in puddles—what tragical ‘‘ squeals f°” While close-tilted wagons and mud-spattered carts Set down a rare cargo of happy young hearts. What a dance was the first—with what pleasure wf went Down the middle and up, till our breathing was spent! Though Musard might have shrugged at a bit of a strife wixt the notes of the fiddle and key of the fife. Then the rat-hunt—oh, mercy! we hear poets speak Of the tug of fierce battle when “ Greek joins with Greek ;’’ But war held as wild and as deadly a reign When the terriers met the destroyers of grain. The smith left his bellows—the miller his sack,— It was lucky that business grew suddenly slack ; The thatcher was there, and the thatcher’s boy too, And somehow, the butcher had nothing to do. The Squire lent his whip and his voice to the fray ; He, of course, only “ chanced to be riding that way ;” And the master—the ploughman—therich and the poor, Stood equality’s jostling about the barn door. There was bustling old Pincher, all fierceness and bark; And even fat Dido, as gay as a lark ; Snap, Vixen, and Bob, and another full score, For though rats might be many—the dogs were oft more. The barn was the place where the beams and the rope Gave our mischievous faculties plenty of scope ; And when rick-lines were found, knotted, severed, and frayed ; Not a word did we breathe of the swings we had made. “ Fide and seek’? was the game that delighted us most, When we stealthily crept behind pillar and post; When the law was enforced that ‘‘home’’ should not be won Before we’d encircled the barn in our run. I’d a merry heart then—but I scarcely know why I should look into memory’s page with a sigh; "Tis ungrateful to turn to the past with regret, When we hold a fair portion of happiness yet. My laugh in that day was a spirited shout, But still it is heard to ring joyously out ; My friends were the warmest that childhood could fing But those round me still are endearingly kind. “Long ago” has too often awakened my soul, Till my brow gathered shade, and the tear-drop would rou ; Down, down, busy thought, for the future may be As bright as the time of the old barn for me. ErizA Cook.CHUICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The Sunbeam’s Mission. rn time ago, when this old world was young, A sunbeam from God’s lighthouse blithely sprung Out into space, and searched through earth and sky For homely things to gild and glorify ; It brightened up the days serene and fair, it danced with other sunbeams frolics rare, It paled within the noon sun’s steady glare. But testing all effects and searching round, Its best results in strangest things it found, It made a diamond of a tear of pain, Transforming griefs into prismatic rain; It formed in dusty mills red golden bars, Transformed rude boats into illumined cars And made of raindrops brilliant falling stars. Far out at sea it glowed, deep, rich and warm, In heart of spray cast up by wind and storm ; High up on mountains touched the pale, dead snow With swift enchantment into warmest glow; It made of mists strange forms with gilded wings; In gloomy cayes—where silent darkness clings— Its golden fingers searched for hidden things. But, better still, one day a cloud it met— A sombre pail with surface black as jet— And straightway o’er its velvet surface tracec, With threads of gold and crimson interlaced, Such grand designs as earth had never known, Such rich effects of color and of tone, It seemed a copy of God’s very throne. Its darkling fleeces turned to molten gold, its deep recesses—lined and crimson scrolled~ Its billowy banks, with marvels richly spread, Of priceless gems upon a priceless bed Of curve and color, joined with matchless grace, Until the awe-struck soul could plainly trace Heaven’ssplendors mirrored on the sky’s broad face. And so throughout succeeding days and years Sunbeams love best to glow in falling tears ; To change to gold the chill, swift-falling rain, To forge gold bars in dark abodes of pain, And, finding those in gloom, to visit such With kindly light, with magic skill and touch Transforming ills which haunt them over much. Then, best of all, when veiled in darkling clouds, Which seem to wrap the world in ebon shrouds, The sunbeams love its blackness to transform To dreamlike beauty, rich and glad and warm ; God’s promise in its grandeur glorified, While light from heayen’s gold streets, a radiant tide, Sifts through the blessings to its earthly side. And so the heaven-light’s richest work appears On darkest clouds, enshrined in hearts of tears; Yove’s pattern woven intc lives and years. I. EDGAR JONES. 615 The Fossil Raindrops. On the quarry the children went rambling, Hunting for stones to skip, Into the clefts and crevices scrambling, Searching the quarrymen’s chip. Sweet were their voices and gay was their laughter, That holiday afternoon, One tumbled down and the rest tumbled after, All of them singing one tune. Here was a stone would skip like a bubble, Once were it loosed from its place,— See what strange lines, all aslant, all a-trouble, Covered over its face. For a half moment their wonder is smitten, Nor divine they at all That soft earth it was when those slant lines wen written By the rain’s gusty fall. Nor guess they, while pausing to look at it plainly, The least in the world perplexed, That the page which old Merlin studied vainly Had never such wizard text. Only a stone o’er the placid pool throwing, Ah—but it told them, though, How the rain was falling, the wind was blowing, Ten thousand years ago. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD. The Turn of Summer. (rx. night the scented air of summer brought us sleep , Of summer at the full. The passion flower Flared open on the vine ; the blood red-rose Drank the mid-summer dew and was not satisfied. The present time was all—earth held no promises Since pleasure’s wishes were completely filled. With dawn a languor sways the breeze, a softness clings About the landscape, while the year, with fickle pulse, Weary of bloom, begins to live for fruit. Hope now is born at turning of the tide, And spreads her lure along the gauzy lines Of spider webs between the blades of grass, But nowhere startles us a sudden change; New buds are bursting by the dropping flowers, And birds, plumed for the South, pipe ’fresh their songs That rise upon the low sweet summer gale As bubbles through the amber wine ascend, The business of the summer still goes on, And yet the fallis here. The turn has come, Night-hidden messengers have touched the scene; And in the morning when we greet, we say, { ‘« My love, my dear, the summer days have been.” AUGUSTUS RADCLIFFE GROTE; oe er Sa ete Ch Me Se Tec eR ea alee “< ? . — | rah 3 es ia 4 ae oa | e a | a is ee ae a 3 ae rl ae | m1 fat a 4 wy 2 y f e . h a oe oe 4 aa) iat a raed KI bi if od ob é + eS ie “ aiere, Biot naln, ct A Calle om yen = fe i eee "4 ao Nhe ip C8 cme tp I EE LENE: DELLA OA No AAPA, an nN ¥ : = 5 ¢ fi 4 A ¥ A % A Ly 616 Toeday and To-morrow. mo hopes that burn like stars sublime Go down the heavens of freedom ; And true hearts perish in the time We bitterliest need ’em ! But never sit we down and say, ‘“There’s notk‘ug left but sorrow:”’ We walk the Widerness to-day— The Promised Land to-morrow. Our birds of song are silent now ; ’ There are no flowers blooming ! But life burns in the frozen bough, And Freedom’s spring is coming! And Freedom’s tide comes up alway, Though we may strand in sorrow; And our good bark, aground to-day, Shall float again to-morrow ! Through all the long dreary night of years The people’s cry ascendeth, And earth is wet with blood and tears, But our meek suffering endeth ! The few shall not forever sway, The many toil in sorrow: The powers of hell are strong to-day, But Christ shall rise to-morrow ! Though hearts brood o’er the past, our eyes With smiling futures glisten: For lo! our day bursts up the skies— Lean out our souls and listen ! The world rolls Freedom’s radiant way, And ripens with her sorrow: Keep heart! who bear the cross to-day Shali wear the crown to-morrow! O, Youth, flame-earnest, still aspire With energies immortal ! To many a haven of desire Our yearning opes a portal! And though Age wearies by the way, And hearts break in the furrow, We’ll sow the golden grain to-day— The harvest comes o-morrow. Build up heroic lives, and all Be like the sheathen sabre, Ready to flash out at God’s call-~ O! Chivalry of labor! Triumph and Toil are twins—and aye Joy suns the cloud of sorrow; And ’tis the martyrdom to-day Brings victory to-morrow | GERALD MAssry. CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Wisperin’ Bill. Ss you’re takin’ the census, mister? There’s three of us livin’ still, My wife, and I, an’ our only son, that folks call Whisperin’ Bill ; But Bill couldn’t tell ye his name, sir, an’ so it’s hardly worth givin’, | For ye see a bullet killed his mind an’ left his body i livin’. Sit down fer a minute, mister. Ye see Bill was only fifteen At the time of the war, an’ as likely a boy as ever this world has seen; An’ what with the news o’ battles lost, the speeches an’ all the noise, I guess every farm in the neighborhood lost a part of its crop o’ boys. ’Twas harvest time when Bill left home; every stalk in the fields of rye Seemed to stand tiptoe to see him off an’ wave hima fond good-bye ; His sweetheart was here with some other girls,—the sassy little miss ! An’ pretencin’ she wanted to whisper ’n his ear, she gave him a rousin’ kiss. Oh, he was a han’some feller, an’ tender an’ brave an’ smart, An’ tho’ he was bigger than I was, the boy had a woman’s heart. I couldn’t control,my feelin’s, but tried with all my might, An’ his mother an’ me stood a-cryin’ till Bill was out 0’ sight. His mother she often told him when she knew he was goin’ away That God would take care o’ him, maybe, if he didn’t fergit to pray ; An’ on the bloodiest battle-fields, when bullets whizzed in the air, An’ Bill was a-fightin’ desperate, he used to whisper a prayer. Oh, his comrades has often told me that Bill never flinched a bit When every second a gap in the ranks told where 2 ball had hit. An’ one night when the field was covered with the awful harvest of war, They found my boy ’mongst the martyrs o' the cause he was fightin’ for. His fingers were clutched in the dewy grass—oh, no, sir, he wasn’t dead, But he lay sort o’ helpless an’ crazy with a rifle ball in his head.An’ if Bill had really died that night 1I’d give all 1’ve got worth givin’ ; For ye see the bullet had killed his mind an’ left his body livin’. An officer wrote and told us how the boy had been hurt in the fight, But he said that the doctors reckoned they could bring him around all right. An’ then we heard from a neighbor, disabled at Mal- vern Hill, That he thought in a course of a week or so he’d be comin’ home with Bill. We was that anxious t’ see him we’d set up an’ talk o’ nights Till the break o’ day had dimmed the stars an’ put out the northern lights ; We waited and watched for a month or more, an’ the summer was nearly past, When a letter came one day that said they’d started fer home at last. Pll never fergit the day Bill came,—’twas harvest time again ; An’ the air blown over the yellow fields was sweet with the scent o’ the grain ; The dooryard was full o’ the neighbors, who had come to share our joy, An’ all of us sent up a mighty cheer at the sight o’ that soldier boy. An’ all of a sudden somebody said: ‘‘My God! don’t the boy know his mother ?”’ An’ Bill stood a-whisperin’, fearful like, an’ starin’ from one to another ; “Ton’t be afraid, Bill,’’ said he to himself, as he stood in his coat o’ blue, ‘Why, God’ll take care o’ you, Bill, God’ll take care 0’ you.” -- He seemed to be loadin’ an’ firin’ a gun, an’ to act like a man who hears The awful roar o’ the battlefield a-soundin’ in his ears ; I saw that the bullet had touched his brain an’ some- how made it blind, With the picture o’ war before his eyes an’ the fear o’ death in his mind. I grasped his hand, an’ says I to Bill, ‘“‘Don’t ye remember me? I’m yer father—don’t ye know me? How frightened ye seem to be!’’ But the boy kep’ a-whisperin’ to himself, as if ’twas all he knew, CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. “God’ll take care o’ you, Bill, God’ll takecareo’ you.”’ ora Ae ane A 617 He’s never known us since that day, nor his sweet- heart, an’ never will; Father an’ mother an’ sweetheart are all the same to Bill. An’ many’s the time his mother sets up the whole night through, An’ smooths his head, and says: ‘Yes, Bill, God’li take care o’ you.” Unfortunit ? Yes, but we can’t complain. It’s a livin’ death more sad When the body clings to a life o’ shame an’ the sout has gone to the bad ; An’ Bill is out 0’ the reach o’ harm an’ danger of every kind; We only take care of his body, but God takes care o! his mind. IRVING BACHELLER. ————_— ss¥ Live for Thee.» OME they brought her warrior dead : 6) She nor swoon’d nor utter’d cry $ All her maidens, watching, said, ** She must weep or she will die.” Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face ; Yet she neither nioved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee— Like summer tempest came her tears— ‘* Sweet my child, I live for thee.”’ ALFRED TENNYSON. Go By. OME not, when I am dead, © To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save There let the wind sweep and the plover cry ; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest: Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by. ALFRED TENNYSON, - — oth, AEE ERC Ee AG RAT ay Sete es RA Martek x a re rs Ye Ne Sone Re ee ee Et et eos a Sen ree TO cee eT Soa tale Fb ablated de PN a PT TS FT Ie et Se ee A A ern eek oe PS ae TERR Ai tae RC AOC les x ie reset ee LE eee‘a % é x J yeah OF ae Pe ee ee Pome eh ea at Ce ar tel ae Pin eee Aelita a aE FO ee ee ee erated ae A 2 SM a et ictal eat Ot ws een i é $ % bi e 4 4 A 4 by 618 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. he Farmer’s House. IRMLY builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea ; and a shady Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreath- ing around it. Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath ; and a footpath Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse, Such as the traveler sees in regions remote by the roadside, Built o’er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. Shielding the house from storms, 62 the north, were the barns and the farm-yard, There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs and the harrows; There were the folds for the sheep; «1d there, in his feathered seraglio, Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the self-same Voice that in ages of old had startlea the penitent Péter. Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In each one Far o’er the gable projected a roof of thatch; anda staircase, Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn- loft. There, too, the dove-cot stood, with its meek and inno- cent inmates Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes Numberless noisy weather-cocks rattled and sang of mutation. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. Life. E World’s a bubble, and the Life of Man @* Less than a span: In his conception wretched, from the wonib So to the tomb; €urst from his cradle, and brought up to years With cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But limns on water, or but writes in dust. Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, What life is best? Courts are but only superficial schools To dandle fools: The rural parts are turned into a den Of savage men: And where’s a city from foul vice so free, But may be termed the worst of all the three? Domestic cares afflict the husband’s bed, Or pains his head: Those that live single, take it for a curse, Or do things worse: Some would have children: those that have them, moar Or wish them gone: What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, | But single thraldom, or a double strife ? Our own affections still at home to please Is a disease. To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Peril and toil: Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease We are worse in peace: What then remains, but that we still should cry For being born, or, being born, to die? Lorv BACON, The Good. _ 4 ZQNHAT is the real good? ” \®: asked in musing mood. Order, said the law court; Snowledge, said the school ; Truth, said the wise man ; Pleasure, said the fool ; Love, said the maiden ; Beauty, said the page ; Freedom, said the dreamer 3 Home, said the sage ; Fame, said the soldier; Equity, the seer ;— Spake my heart full sadly 5 ‘¢ The answer is not here.” Then within my bosom Softly this I heard: ‘¢ Rach heart holds the secret 3 Kindness is the word.’ J. BovLe O’REILL&CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Death-Song of the Oneida Chief. ND I could weep ;’’—the Oneida chief His descant wil@ly thus began : ‘* But that I may fit stain with grief The death-song of my father’s son, Or bow this head in woe | For by my wrongs, and by my wrath | To-morrow Areouski’s breath, (That fires yon heaven with storms of death,) Shall light us to the foe ; And we shall share, my Christian boy! The foeman’s blood, the avenger’s joy! * But thee, my flower, whose breath was given By milder genii o’er the deep, The spirits of the white man’s heaven Forbid not thee to weep: Nor will the Christian host, Nor will thy father’s spirit grieve, To see thee, on the battle’s eve, Lamenting, take a mournful leave Of her who loved thee most: She was the rainbow to thy sight ! Thy sun—thy heaven—of lost delight ! “* To-morrow let us do or die! But when the bolt of death is hurled, Ah! whither then with thee to fly, Shall Outalissi roam the world? Seek we thy once-loved home ? The hand is gone that cropt its flowers : Unheard their clock repeats its hours | Cold is the hearth within their bowers! And should we thither roam, Its echoes, and its empty tread, Would sound like’voices from the dead \ % Or shall we cross yon mountains blue, Whose streains my kindred nation quaffed ; And by ny side, in battle true, A thousand warriors drew the shaft? Ah! there in desolation cold, The desert serpent dwells alone, Where grass o’ergrows each mouldering bone, And stones themselves to ruin grown, Like me, are death-like old. Then seek we not their camp—for there The silence dwells of my despair | % But hark, the trump! to-morrow thou In glory’s fires shalt dry thy tears: Even from the land of shadows now My father’s awful ghost appears Amidst the clouds that round us roll! He bids my soul for battle thirst ; Be bids me dry the last, the first, 619, The only tears that ever burst From Outalissi’s soul ; Because I may not stain with grief The death-song of an Indian chief!’ THOMAS CAMPBELK The Auctioneer’s Gift. qr. auctioneer leaped on a chair, aud bold and loud and clear, He poured his cataract of words,—just like an auctioneer. An auction sale of furniture, where some hard mort- gagee Was bound to get his money back and pay his lawyer’s fee. A humorist of wide renown, this doughty auction- eer 5 His joking raised the loud guffaw, and brought the answering jeer ; He scattered round his jests like rain, on the unjust and the just ; Sam Sleeman said he laughed so much he thought that he would bust. He knocked down bureaus, beds and stoves, and clocks and chandeliers, And agrand piano, which he swore would “last a thou sand years ;’’ He rattled out the crockery, and sold the silverware; At last they passed him up to sell a little baby’s chair. “How much? how much? come make a bid; is all your money spent?”’ And then a cheap, facetious wag came up and bid, ‘‘one cent.’” Just then a sad-faced woman, who stood in silence there, Broke down and cried, ‘‘My baby’s chair! My poor, dead baby’s chair!” “‘Here, madam, take your baby’s chair,” said the soft- ened auctioneer, “TI know its value all too well; my baby died last year, And if the owner of the chair, our friend, the mort- gagee, Objects to this proceeding, let him send the bill to me!” Gone was the tone of raillery; the humorist auction- eer Turned shame-faced from his audience to brush aside a tear; The laughing crowd was awed and still, no tearless eye was there When the weeping woman reached and took her little baby’s chair. S. W. Foss. SS ‘oN aed e Sere cCCU e aae ee aL I c x ay! Bea er eaeX a a) ER es Ns ; A 4 ; Be eta ae nt i ae u nad t Renee oe pea Se 8 nang POR C RT aE eee enfe Rte S yt yO Te ye ina Ce ee Dede ad Ld Ce ey ber ie oe Be A, er Tel ee ee ee ete ok eae A. $n ati ee ch tao pee ee ae I le ak tReet ES a ES Sica ti ee et daa Ea A oy ie ls a’ A PA E Dy e 620 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. ‘Flag the Train.” Fhe last words of Engineer Edward Kennar, who died i. 2 saiiroad accident near St. Johnsville, N. Y., April 18, 1887. ©) O, flag the train, boys, flag the train! Ox waste the time on me}; But leave me by my shattered cab; "Tis better thus to bel It was an awful leap, boys, But the worst of it is o’er; I hear the Great Conductor’s call Sound from the farther shore. t hear sweet notes of angels, boys, That seem to say: ‘‘ Well done!?”’ I see a golden city there, Bathed in a deathless sun ; There is no night, nor sorrow, Ovs, No wounds nor bruises there ; The way is clear—the engineer Rests from his life’s long care. Ah! ’twas a fearful plunge, my lads; I saw, as in a dream, Those dear, dear faces looming up In yonder snowy stream ; Down in the Mohawk’s peaceful depths Their image rose and smiled, K’en as we took the fatal leap; Oh God—my wife! my child! Well, never mind! I ne’er shall sez That wife and child again ; But hasten, hasten, leave me, boys! For God’s sake, flag the train | Farewell, bright Mohawk ! and farewell My cab, my comrades all; I’m done for, boys, but hasten on, And sound the waruing call! Oh, what a strange, strange tremor this That steals unceasing on! Will those dear ones I’ve cherished so Be cared for when I’m gone? Farewell, ye best beloved, farewell! I’ve died not all in vain— Thank God! The other lives are saved; Vhank God! They’ve flagged the train ] WILLIAM B. CHISHOLM. Grumble Corner and Thanksgiving Street. KNEW a man whose name was Horner, Who used to live on Grumble Corner: Grumble Corner, in Cross-Patch Town, And he was never seen without a frown. ‘ nea eee a — — He grumbled at this ; he grumbled at that; He growled at the dog; he growled et the cat; He grumbled at morning; he grumbled at night: And to grumble and growl were his chief delight He grumbled so much at his wife that she Began to grumble as well as he; And all the children, wherever they went, Reflected their parents’ discontent. If the sky was dark and betokened rain, Then Mr. Horner was sure to complain ; And if there was never a cloud about, He’d grumble because of the threatened dsught, His meals were never to suit his taste; He grumbled at having to eat in haste; The bread was poor, or the meat was tough Or else he hadn’t had half enough. No matter how hard his wife might try To please her husband, with scornful eye He’d look around, and then with a scowl At something or other begin to growl. One day, as I loitered along the street, My old acquaintance I chanced to meet, Whose face was without the look of care And the ugly frown that it used to wear. ‘‘T may be mistaken, perhaps,” I said, As, after saluting, Iturned my head; ‘But it is, and it isn’t, the Mr. Horner Who lived so long on Grumble Corner !”’ I met him next day; and I met him again, In melting weather, in pouring rain ; When stocks were up and when stocks were 7ewn ; But a smile somehow had replaced the frown- It puzzled me much, and so, one day, I seized his hand in a friendly way, And said, ‘‘ Mr. Horner, I’d like to know What has happened to change you so?” He laughed a laugh that was good to hear, For it told of a conscience calm and clear; And he said, with none of the old-time drawl, ‘‘Why, I’ve changed my residence, that is all?” “Changed your residence?’’ “Yes,” said Harpe “Tt wasn't healthy on Grumble Corner, And soI moved; ’twas a change complete ; And you’ll find me now on Thanksgiving Strevi.* Now every day as I move along The streets so filled with the busy throng, I watch each face, and can always tell Where men and women and children dwell, And many a discontened mourner Is spending his days on Grumble Corner, Sour and sad, whom I long to entreat To take a house on Thanksgiving Street.CHOICK, SELECTIONS OF POBDIRY. Old Friends. : TAS on acold and frosty night when snow and hail fast fell, And winter’s chilling, wailing winds swept over hill and dell; When people who had happy homes to blazing hearth- stones hied, And the wretched, houseless outcast in the bare street, frozen, died, That an aged, sightless beggar trudged along a coun- try road, With a face by sorrow furrowed and back bent with life’s load. His tattered cap and ragged coat did many patches show And his wretched shoes, all cut and torn, let in the rain and snow. Before him walked the faithful dog that always led the way, And was the only guide and friend he’d known for | many a day, Who often, too, by clever tricks would food and lodg- ing win, The while his master played upon his treasured violin. Suddenly the mastiff stopped and slowly turned around, And sunk down by his master’s feet upou the frozen ground. The blind man beut in pity o’er his faithful friend in woe, And said, ‘“‘Ah, Jack, you’re tired; well, we'll rest awhile, then go To an inn where we’ll get meat and drink, and place to lay our heads ; ~-_ A warn spot by the fire will do, we will not ask for beds. ‘What could I do without you? What would my dark life be, {f your bright eyes I did not have to choose my path for me. You have, like true and faithful friend, for me ill usage borne, And often got the savage kicks that spoke the land- lord’s scorn. V’ll ne’er forget how e’en when sick you would not duty shirk, Though many years ago, old friend, you were too old to work. ‘Why don’t you lick iny hand, old boy ; how strange you are to me. Your paw is stiff, your heart is still. cannot be That you have died and ieft me—no. no, you are not | Oh, God! it | dead- ? God sees my bruised and bleeding heart, he sees my old gray head. He would not leave me here alone in the turmoil and the strife ; He knows I could not bear alone the heavy weight of life.” He threw himself upon the corpse that now was stifi and cold; Such grief and sorrow as he felt can ne’er by pen he told. With fatal aim this time grim death had sent his fatal dart, He was too weak to stand the blow; it broke his poor old heart. For when, next morning, sunshine fell upon their snowy bed, A traveler passing by the spot found dog and master dead. The Dog and the Tramp. CQ TRAMP went up to a cottage door To beg for a couple o’ dimes or more. The cottage door was opened wide, So he took a cautious look inside. Then over his features there spread a grin As he saw a lonely maid within— A lonely maid within the gloom Of the shadiest part of a shady room. Into the room the tramper went; Over a dog the maiden bent. His eyes were red and fuil of fire, And he viewed the tramp with evident ing ‘Run for your life!’’ the maiden cried ; ‘‘T clean forgot to have him tied! “Run for your life through yonder door; I cannot hold him a minute more!” Without a word he turned his face And leaped the fence *with careless grace; Then lightly along the road he rani, * yery much-put-out young man. he maiden loosed her bull-dog’s neck, And gazed at the tramp—a vanishing speck, And peal after peal of laughter rent The air with the maiden’s merriment. The dog was of terra-cotta ware— She won him that week at a lottery fair. Eva BES. os GEOL | Ce ae CS a oe eee: aan a a 1) age ar e ie aM ne me. > e ee ae tee 2 So Relic en 4 SCION ee ccaoe el ee ae Pe o Oak in PE le ee ee ee ne ee he cge eae A £3 Medea a teeta ear Beth I SOW LI EE ET LOIN ee we Bente Lieu he Pak aes a val Soe # ; EA P 4 $22 CHOICE SELECTIONS Deakin Brown’s Way. LD Deakin Brown lives out f’'um town © About four mile er so, An’ drives a spankin’ team 0’ bays W’en he goes to an’ fro; An’ allus w’en he overhauls Some feller walkin’ on the ground, He stops his team and cramps around An’ calls: ‘‘ Hullo, Git in an’ hey’ a lift!’ You'll see ’im sit an’ chaw an’ spit, , An’ saw upon the lines, His jouy face so red with pride It reg’lar glows and shines ; Them hosses steps so gay an’ high An’ tear along at sech a gait, You’d scarcely think their owner’d wait An’ cry: ce y Hullo, Git in an’ hey’ a lift! ”’ T’ see ol’ Brown a-saggin’ down On one e’end o’ the seat, fn’ leanin’ sideways now’'n agin To watch ’em pick their feet, You’d think ; ‘‘ Here comes a rooral swell.’ But my ! How quick your mind ’ud flop, W’en Deakin’d make them hosses stop, An’ yell: “ Hullo, Climb in an’ hey’ a:*ft!”’ Fhey’s folks who ride in all their pride In fortune’s rig on life’s highway— 4 Us folks who trudge along afoot Cen sce ’em drive past every day ; They hain’t like Deakin Brown at all; It makes na odds how tired ye git, Ye’ll never see them wait a bit An’ call: ‘Hullo, Climb in an’ hev’ a lift!” _ age ae TY nr it GEORGE HORTON. Going on an Errand. : POUND of tea at one-and-three, : And a pot of raspberry jam, Two new-laid eggs, a dozen pegs, And a pound of rashers of ham.”’ P’ll say it over all the way, And then I’m sure not to forget, For if I chance to bring things wrong My mother gets in such a pet. a UF POETRY. *< A pound of tea at one-and-three, And a pot of raspberry jam, Two new-laid eggs, a dozen pegs, And a pound of rashers of ham.” There in the hay the children play They’re having such jolly fun ; I’ll go there, too, that’s what I’ll do, As soon as ny errands are done. ** A pound of tea at one-and-three, A pot of—er—new-laid jam, And a pound of rashers of ham.’’ he : Two raspberry eggs, with a dozen pegs There’s Teddy White a-flying his kite He thinks himself I’d like to try to fly it sky high ro meet | grand, I declare Ever so much higher Than the old church spire, And then—and then—but there— ** A pound of three and one at tea, A pot of new-laid jam, Two dozen eggs, some raspberry pegs And a pound of rashers of ham.” Now here’s the shop, outside I'll stop And run through my orders again; I haven’t forgot—no, ne’er a jot— It shows I’m pretty cute, that’s pla-2 ‘A pound of three at one and tea, A dozen of raspberry ham, A pot of eggs, with a dozen pegs, And a rasher of new-laid jam.” Forgotten. ©)". I am dead, my dearest, \@ Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head Nor shady cypress-tree : Be the green grass above me With showers and dew-drops wet} And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as ifin pain: And dreaming through the tw ‘light That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget. C. G. Rosserrz.Peck wel Hed Sve 3 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. 623 ee eo oF Lite, The Maiden Missionary. LL, day, ail night, I hear the jar : Of the loom of life, and near and far ee oe ae schemes prolific for the It thrills with its deep and muffled sound ee i As the tireless wheels go round and round. All oe ee with pity burning for those far-off coral shores ; Busily, ceaselessly goes the loom She would have her friends endow a ladies’ school ir In the light of day, and the midnight gloom ; Chicahaua, The wheels are turning with all their strife, And establish kindergartens through the indolent Forming at last the web of each life. Azores, i k 1 k tl : J f ? W 1 ® oc gee sre : eee, Wore 5 Now she pleads with you to sign a paper in behalf of Click, clack ! there’s another of wrong and sin. China lait O} heckered thi his life will k : yee ee - eee = To correct an ancient evil by a prize for larger feet 5 And her lovely eyes are swimming while she speaks or Time with a face like mystery, | heathen women, And hands as busy as hands can be, With their shocking scant apparel and the vulgar food Sits at the loom with.arms outspread, they eat. To catch in its meshes each glancing thread. No man has the heart to snub her, though she turns the talk to blubber. Oily natives of Kamschatka, and the podgy Hsqui- Are you spinners of wool in life’s web, say? Do you furnish the weaver a thread each day? It were better then, O my friend, to spin : : maux, ee 2 thread of ein. Or, at hinted change of topic, takes you flying o’er the Say, when will this wonderful web be done? tropic, In a hundred years, perhaps, or one, To the swarthy son of Afric with a bangle through Or to-morrow, who knoweth? not you nor 1} his nose. But the wheels turn on and the shuttles fly. f eS | | “a 5 oo a 3 ie ria oe a | ra | oa | = 3 aa” * af re | a 2 = a ore | 4 a a ee) oe ee oe bad ae a ries 9 “A ig : i aes Zs ae | oe | i : | oh 4 Were . 7 pi oe} 4 Oh, she looks and speaks so sweetly that she wins yous heart completely, And her strings of dry statistics chain you like a silken mesh ; And give most profound attention to each several heathen mention, For her face is like a rose leaf, and your heart is only The Good Great Man. flesh. bys seldom, friend, a good great mian inherits Honor and wealth, with all his worth and . paper, pene | And you spread it out before you with a sigh that sweeps the floor ; Here are victims without number, from a poet to 4 Ah, sad-eyed weaver, the years are slow, And each one is nearing the end, I know. Soon the last web will be woven in— God grant it be love and not of sin. f By and by with fingers taper she presents a folded It seems a story from the world of spirits When any man obtains that which he merits, Or any merits that which he obtains. Re ee ee ee eer ee ee rer a plumiber, For shame, my friend! renounce this idle strain | And you never saw such figures on 4 begging sie= What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain? before. fc ‘Wealth, title, dignity, a golden chain, 4 Or heap of corses which his sword hath slain ? Up you glance with indecision; but ou see a pleading : Goodness and greatness ar2 not means, but ends. vision, a} Hath he not always treasures, always friends, Dewy lips beset with dimples, eye like sweet un a The good great man? ‘Three treasures—love, and uttered prayers ; e light, And with all your spirit burniig you set down a whole i And calm thoughts, equable as infant’s breath 3 week’s earning, ; : And three fast friends, more sure than day or night— To assist some lucky heathen up the shining goldey Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. stairs. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. Paul, PASTNOR._ 2 = wu ee ed ce ee De me ie intents re a nats a ae Se ae nese ee A 2 P in n as hannioaaetaaa pe A a I Le et a Oe A a ak "Sts eas eae Rete el y PA “ y 624 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Early Autumn. HE country lanes are bright with Bloom, And gentle airs come stealing through Laden with native wild perfume Of balm and mint and honey-dew, And o’er the summer’s radiant flush Lies early autumn’s dreamy hush. ¥n way-side nooks the asters gleam, And frost-flowers dance above the sod, While, lapsing by, the silent stream Reflects the hue of golden-rod, That flower which lights q dusky day With something of the sun-god’s ray. The grape-vine clambers o’er the hedge In golden festoons; sumacs burn Like torches on the distant ledge, Or light the lane at every turn, And ivy riots everywhere In blood red banners on the air. A purple mist of fragrant mint Borders the fences, drifting out Of fostering corners, and its tint, As half of cheer and half of doubt, Is like the dear delightful haze Which robes the hills these autumn days. And strange wild growths are newly met ; Odd things but little prized of yore, {ike some old jewel well reset, ay Take on a worth unseen before, As dock, in spring a graceless weed, {s brilliant in its autumn seed. The cricket and the katydid Pipe low their sad prophetic tune, Though airs pulse warm the leaves amid, As played around the heart of June; So minor strains break on the heart, Foretelling age as years depart. ‘The sweet old story of the year Is spinning onward to its close, Vet sounds as welcome on the car As in the time of op’ning rose. May life for all as sweetly wane As comes the autumn-time again! DART FAIRTHORNE. The Erl-King. : HO rides by night in the tempest wild? It is the fond father with his child; He holdeth the boy safe in his arm, He clasvs him firmly, he keeps him warm. ‘Why hidest thou, child, thy face with fear?” ‘‘ Seest thou not, father, the Erl-King near? The Erl-King, with his crown and train?’ ‘“My son, the fog hangs o’er the plain. ‘Thou sweet, dear child, come, go with me! Such pretty gams wil! I play with thee; The banks in sweet flowers are gaily drest, My mother has many a golden vest. “My father, my father, and dost thou not hear What the Erl-King is whispering in my ear ?’’ ‘‘Rear nothing, fear nothing, my darling boy; The winds with tue withering branches toy. ‘OQ wilt thou, fair boy, go along with me? My daughters shall prettily wait upon thee ; In the maze of the midnight dance they sweep, They ’ll rock thee, and dance thee, and sing thee? sleep. ‘‘ Dear father, dear father, and seest thou not The Erl-King’s daughters in yon dark spot?’’ ‘My son, my son, as were it by day, I see the old willow trees glimmer so gray. “T Jove thee, with rapture thy form I survey ; And if thou’rt not willing I’ll tear thee away.” ‘‘O fathe. O father, he’s seizing my arm, O save me! the Erl-King has wrought me hari. The father rides swiftly in fear and alarm, He holds the sobving child in his arm, He reaches the court with trouble and dread; Alas! in his arms the child is dead. JOHANN WOLFGANG GortHs Can Love Survive ? INCE brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundess But sad mortality o’ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? O fearful meditation ! where, alack! Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hiat Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? O! none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may stiil shine bright. WILLIAM SHAKESPEKARR.Remembered by What I Have Done. UF and away, like the dew of the morning, That soars from the earth to its home in the sun So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, Only remembered by what I have done. My name, and my place, and my tomball forgotten, The brief race of time well and patiently run, So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, Only. remembered by what I have done. Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, Up to the crown that for me has been won; Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises— Only remembered by what I have done. Up and away, like the odors of sunset, That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes cn; So be my life—a thing felt but not noticed, And I but remembered by what I have done. Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in darkness When the flowers that it came from are closed up and gone; So I would be to this world’s weary dwellers, Only remembered by what I have done. Needs there the praise of the love-written record, The name and the epitaph graven on stone ? The things we have lived for—let them be our story Weourselves but remembered by what we have done I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing (As its Summer and Autumn moved silently on) The bloom, the fruit, and the seed of its season; I shall still be remenibered by what I have done. J need not be missed if another succeed me, To reap down those fields which in spring I have sown; He who plowed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper, He is only remembered by what he has done. Not myself, but the truth that in life I have spoken; Not myself, but the seed that in life I have sown, Shall pass on to ages—all about me forgotten, Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done. So let my living be, so be my dying; So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown; Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remembered ; Yes—but remembered by what I have done. Quiet Work. NE lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee, One lesson which in every wind is blown, One lesson of two duties kept at one CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. , ' Sr te Ss Ro ea are Bre ea Sr ied Wein Pe he PREC a BSS) WE oe So eA eee Yee ge i ae Sk Ere Vee eA eke Eo ve Sa DS eh tee Of toil unsevered from tranquillity ; Of laborthat in lasting fruit outgrows : Far noiser schemes, accomplished in repose, Too great for haste, too high for rivalry. Yes, while on earth a thousand discords ring, Man’s senseless uproar mingling with his toil, Still do thy quiet ministers move on, Their glorious tasks in silence perfecting ; Still working, blaming still our vain turmoil, Laborers that shall not fail, when man is gone. MATTHEW ARNOLL. cearsineneeasy Patience Taught by Nature. 66 DREARY life!’ we cry, “O dreary life!” And still the generations of the birds Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds Sevenely live while we are keeping strife, With Heaven’s true purpose in us, as a knife Against which we may struggle. Ocean girds Uuslackened the dry land; savannah-swards Unweary sweep; hills watch, unworn; and rife. Meek leaves drop yearly from the forest-trees, To show above the unwasted stars that pass In their old glory. O thou God of old! Grant me some smaller grace that comes to zhese, But so much patience as a blade of grass Grows by contented through the heat and cold. ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. The Nile. T flows uirough hushed old Egypt and its sands, Like some grave mighty thought treading a dream And times and things, as in that vision, seem Keeping along it to their eternal stands-- Caves, pillars, pyramids, the shepherd bands That roamed through the young world, the glory ex- treme Of high Sesostris, and that southern beam, The laughing queen that caught the world’s grea hands. Then comes a mightier silence, stern and strong, As of a world left empty of its throng, And the void weighs on us; and then we wake, And hear the fruitful stream lapsing along ’Twixt villages, and think how we shall take Our own calm journey on for human sake. Though the wild world proclaim their enmity 40 LEIGH HuNT See eee ae i ena ie Re EN SN CORE SOR a eee ee ne ee Cm Cine a emer eC oe a EN eS en ea ate BaP ied nia es soil ' 5 Ch SS enor AMR" wean Ee Ce ae ee a ee BE a PN een ileal: — > -d % 4 x 3 rat eta ee ee ee ae a teenth a a a Be WE POE PW Oe ee ee ee aad tre a re AE Mena ton Eeeetehdapeharter: ¢ x ‘ : By 2 t H ! b>) £ Lf b) 4 626 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Views of Farmer Brown. HAT would they thought in ourday, John, Of doin’s sech as these? There’s gals down there in Simpkin’s lot About as thick as bees, A-pickin’ such old stiff-backed herbs As golden-rod, and asters ; Mean, pesky weeds! No thrifty farmer’d Have ’em in his pastures. Jest hear ’em laugh, and * oh,’’ and ‘*ah,” ’Bout everything they see; T reckon fifty yearago Sech things would never be; The gals in them days had to work, And never thought 0’ posies Unless ’twas lalocs in the spring, And in the summer, rosies. Or mebbe down the garden walk You’d see some sweet-peas growin’, And Jarkspurs, pinks, and hollyhocks Would do their share o’ blowin’; But interferin’ with the things God scattered ’mong the grasses Was never thought of—guess it wa’n’tl~ By good old-fashioned lasses. it’s ever since that prig came her They call Professor Dangly, The gals have been a-talkin’ ’bout The ‘‘Aster novy-angly,”’ And the ‘‘ Solidago strictly,”’ And the ‘‘Ap’os tuberosy ;”’ And them old ’tarnal beggar ticks Are christened now, ‘‘ Frondosy.’’ Waal, times is changed, and so is gals, And so is all creation ; {’m glad I’ve lived nigh seventy yes Afore this generation ; For, speakin’ confidentially, Itseems to me it means if folks keep on in this ’ere way Bumbye they won’t know—beans. Poor farmer Brown is resting now, Life’s sands have all been numbered ; With follies of the present age His peace is ne’er encumbered ; But spite of all, close by his grave, Each year break through the sod The purple aster’s starry blooms And plumes of golden-rod. KATHERINE H. TERRY. | | | Monterey. B were not many—we who stout Before the iron sleet that day ; Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years if he but could Have been with us at Monterey. Now here, now there, the shot was hailed In deadly drifts of fiery spray ; Yet not a single soldier quailed When wounded comrades round them wailet Their dying shouts at Monterey. And on, still on, our column kept, Through walls of flame, its withering way Where fell the dead, the living stept, Still charging on the guns that swept The slippery streets of Morterey. The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay, We swooped his flanking batteries past, And, braving full their murderous blast, Stormed home the towers of Monterey. Our banners on those turrets wave, And there our evening bugles play, Where orange-boughs above their grave Keep green the memory of the brave Who fought and fell at Monterey. We are not many—we who pressed Beside the brave who fell that day ; But who of us hath not confessed He’d rather share their warrior rest Than not have been at Monterey ? CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN Soul and Body. P) roo Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fooled by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge? is this thy body’s end? Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; Within be fed, without be rich no more:— So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And death once dead, there’s no more dying then. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARR.CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. A Schoo, Episode. (Ovvon years ago (how youth to-day Would stand and stare if taught that way !) In rural ‘‘ deestricks’’ ’twas laid down That meeting travelers through the town, Boys from their heads their hats should take And reverently their ‘‘ manners’? make; Each little maid, her part to do, Made ‘‘kurchies’’ wonderful to view. It chanced that on a certain day His yearly visit came to pay, A school official yclept ‘‘ trustee,’’— His form e’en I seem to see, In somber coat of homespun brown And fine buff waistcoat bought in town; Besides—yes, it was surely so, He wore a wig, this ancient beau ; Else I’d no story have to tell Of what that article befell ; He made his call—no matter where, Since you, I’m sure, were never there}; He heard the scholars spell and read, Talked long and learned of their need The Rule of Three to practice well, And the nine parts of speech to tell; Then as a final flourish, ‘‘ Now,”’ He said, ‘‘I’ll make a proper bow; Look, one and all.”’ Alas to teil! His wig came loose and off it fell, Displaying to the general view & pate that shone like billiard cue; He stared a breath, with scarlet face, Wis headgear seized and quit the place. Upon the school a stillness fell, Wntil an urchin broke the spell— A tow-haired child, the smallest there, Who, running toward his teacher’s chair With hand upraised, piped shrilly out, His freckled face expressing doubt And direst wonder: ‘‘Schoolma’am, we Can’t take our hairs off clean like he!”’ EMMA SHAW Der Deutscher’s Maxim. ~\ HERE vas vat you call a maxim ©) Dot I hear der oder day, Und I wride id in mine album, So id don’d could got avay; Und I dells mine leedle Yawcob Me moost mind vot he’s aboudt; ‘s?Tis too late to lock der shtable Vhen der hors: he vas gone oudt.” Vhen I see ubon der corners Off der shtreets most efry night, Der loafers und der hoodiums, Who do nix but shvear und fight, I says to mine Katrina: “Let us make home bright und gay, Ve had petter lock der shtable, So our colts don’d got avay.”’ Vhen you see dhose leedle urchins, Not mooch ofer knee-high tall, Shump righdt indo der melon patch, Shust owf der garden vall, Und vatch each leedle rascall Vhen he cooms back mit hees ‘‘ boodle,”’ Look oudt und lock your shtable, So your own nag don’d shkydoodle { Vhen der young man at der counter Vants to shpecgulate in shtocks, Und buys hees girl some timond rings Und piles righdt oup der rocks, Look oudt for dot young feller; Id vas safe enuff to say Dot der shtable id vas empty, Und der horse was gone avay. Dhen dake time by der fetlock ; Don’d hurry droo life’s courses; Rememper vot der poet says, ‘“‘Life’s but a sphan’’—off horses; Der poy he vas der comin’ man}; Be careful vhile you may; Shust keep der shtable bolted, Und der horse don’d got avay. CHARLES FoLrLEN ADAMS. Time and Love. \Ornes I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of out-worn buried age; When sometime lofty towersI see down-razed, And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of tke shore, Aud the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay, Ruin hath taught me thus to rnminate— That Time will come and take my Love away: | +This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose. “WILLIAM SHAKESPHRARE A LES fmen im GI GETEX x a wars - 1 ee A ‘.a PTS A a x Be arr a‘ 2 ot ‘ 4 x . ‘Ve OF ed Ce ee 0 oe Pome —_ Pee a na Pe ee oe ah PI eee ee mee ae An PU EC Be AR ——— Cae, Le ee eee ae al ee a nS i ¥ ¢ 5 be A p by 628 Little Worries. HOUGH many ills may hamper life When fortune turns capricious, ‘The great but nerve us for the strife, The small ones make us vicious ; Fierce griefs are scon outstripped by one Who through existence scurries 5 }t’s harder far a race to run With nimble ‘little worries.”” A button bids your shirt good-bye When late for dinner dressing, You have a kite you cannot fly, And creditors are pressing ; You run to catch—and lose—a train (That fatalest of hurries), Your newest hat encounters rain— Life’s full of ‘‘little wotries.”’ from day to day some silly things Upset you altogether ; ' Jhere’s nought so soon convulsion brings As tickling with a feather ; ‘Gainst minor evils let him pray Who fortune’s favor curries } Hor one that big misfortunes slay Ten die of ‘little worries.”’ GrorGE R. SIMS Out at Sea. now that I am dying, mate; so fetch the Bible here, What’s laid unopen in the chest for five and twenty year 5 And bring a light along of you, and read a bit to me, Who haven’t heard a word of it since first I came to sea. fts five and twenty year, lad, since she went to her rest, Who put that there old Bible at the bottom of my chest} &nd I can well remember the words she says to me: “ Now, don’ forget to read it, Tom, when you get out to sea.” And I never thought about it, mate; for it clean slipped from ny head}; But when I come from that first voyage, the dear old girl was dead. And the neighbors told me, while I stood as still as still can be, That she prayed for me and blessed me es was just gone Qut to sea, i SELECTIONS OF POETRY. And then I shipped again, mate, and forgot the Bibie there, For I never gave a thought to it—a-sailing every where But now that I am dying, you can read a bit to me As seems to think about it, now I’m ill and down at sea. And find a little prayer, lad, and say it up right loud, So that the Lord can hear it if it finds him in a crowd I can scarce hear what you’re saying, for the wind that howls to lee; But the Lord’ll hear above it cll—for He’s been out af sea. It’s set in very dark, mate; andI think I’ll say good night. But stop—look there! Why, mate; why Bill; the cabin’s turning light; And the dear old mother’s standing there as give the book to me! All right; I’m coming! Bill, good-by! My soul’: going out to seal J. S. FLETCHER. Early Spring. While in a grove I sat reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. | HEARD a thousand blended notes To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What Man has made of Man. Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bowes; The periwinkle trailed its wreaths And ’tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure— But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan To catch the breezy air}; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there. If this belief from heaven be sent, If such be Nature’s holy plan, Have I not reason to lament What Man has made of Man? WILLIAM WORDSWORTCHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Art Thou Living Yet ? S there no grand, immortal sphere i Beyond this realm of broken ties, To fill the wants that mock us here, And dry the tears from weeping eyes; Where Winter melts in enuless Spring, And June stands near with deathless flowers; Where we may hear the dear ones sing Who loved us in this world of ours? Task, and lo! my checks are wet With tears for one I cannot see; Oh, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou still remember me? t feel thy kisses o’er me thrill, Thou unseen angei of my life; ¢ hear thy hymns around me trill, An undertone to care and strife; Thy tender eyes upon me shine, As from a being glorified, Till I am thine and thou art mine, And I forget that thou hast died, I almost lose each vain regret In visions of a life to be; But, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou stil] remember me? The Springtimes bloom, the Summers fade, The Winters blow along my way; But over every light or shade Thy memory lives by night and day; It soothes to sleep my wildest pain, Like some sweet song that cannot die, And, like the murmur of the main, Grows deeper when the storm is nigh. ¥ know the brightest stars that set Return to bless the yearning sea} But, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou still remember me? I sometimes think thy soul comes back From o’er the dark and silent stream Vhere last we watched thy shining track, To those green hills of which we dream; [hy loving arms iround me twine, My cheeks bloom younger in thy breath, Till thou art mine and I am thine, Without a thought of pain or death; And yet, at times, my eyes are wet With tears for her I cannot see— Oh, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou still remember me? JAMES G. CLARKE. Ce ic ie Sak dere ha beua ROe, We re Med eae f, ee ee § Es ae 629 Parson Kelly. oy": Parson Kelly’s fair young wife Irene. Died when but three months wed, And no new love has ever come between His true heart and the dead, Though now for sixty years the grass has grows Upon her grave, and on its simple stone The moss And yellow lichens creep her name actoss, Outside the door, in the warm summer air, Z The old man sits for hours, The idle wind that stirs his silver hair Is sweet with June’s first flowers; But dull his mind, and clouded with the haze Of life’s last weary, gray November days; And dim The past and present look alike to him. The sunny scene around, confused and biurred, The twitter of the birds, Blend in his mind with voices long since heard—~ Glad chilahood’s careless words, Old hymns and Scripture texts; while indistincé Yet strong, one thought with all fair things is linkes'= The bride Of his lost youth is ever by his side. By its sweet weight of snowy blossoms boweé The rose-tree branch hangs low, And in the sunshine, like a fleecy cloud, Sways slowly to and fro. **Oh! is it you?” the old man asks, ‘* Irene !* And smiles, and fancies that her face he’s seen Beneath The opening roses of a bridal wreath! Down from the gambrel roof a white dove flits. The sunshine on its wings, And lighting close to where the dreaier sits, A vision with it brings— A golden gleam from some long vanished day, ** Dear love,” he calls; then, ‘‘ Why will you not stay?” He sighs, For, at his voice, the bird looks up and flies! O constant heart! whose failing thoughts cling igs? To one long laid in dust, Still seeing, turned to thizie, as in the past, Her look of perfect trust, Her soft voice hearing in the south wind’s breath: Dream on! Love pure as thine shall outlive death. And when The gates unfold, her eyes meet thine again} Magian Dovuciass Pe ASR re - Rae fon at Sc a BROAN te CR A oS ee ee = oe ea | ue i ee 4 4 4 es ae a a eee : re 4 ae we ‘2 Pica PEP AE IO Ae Ne ? Ra a ee oe NOt rn hPa od rane PN NR Ne OT I al = GALI DO LETel Co eee ee en ee — ee ee ee ae eee treme tail Ah Mie a a an eee ee ees aA an Enea nee i eee & y ¥ io p y iy G30 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY: Fhe Lion's Ride. GroM his mir the Jesert king arose through his BS domain to fly, %o the far lagoon he wanders, in the lofty reeds to lie ; Where gazelles drink and giraffes, he iurks upon the rushy shore ; f ee ees POE ter A te Sa Re eS SCA Se Ce SR a eA eee nae » AAA HIRI, nde ae NOT a Tie a he ae a an eS me ra . he oe - Nae Se a ea aaa aN ee ee RR Se Pike ee Z es Soe htsern : a PSK Sa ae PO ieee keteioee eel oe” ile Se A ROE ET rnin 638 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. { shall watch tor the gleam of the flapping sa1l ; I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand; { shall pass from sight with the boatman pale To the Letter shore of the spirit-land. I shall know the loved who have gone before, And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, When over the river, the peaceful river, The angel of death shall carry me. Nancy A. W. PRIEST: The River Path. O bird-song floated down the hill, The tangled bank below was still; No rustle from the birchen stem, No ripple from the water’s hem. The dusk of twilight round us grew, We felt the failing of the dew: For, from us ere the day was done, The wooded hills shut out the sun, 8ut on the river’s farther side, We saw the hili-tops glorified,— A tender glow, exceeding fair, A dream of day without its glare. With us the damp, the chill, the gloom‘ With them the sunset’s rosy bloom ; While dark, through willowy vistas seen ’ o as > The river rolled in shade between. Froim out the darkness where we trod, We gazed upon those hills of God, Whose light seemed not of morn or sun; We spake not, but our thought was one. We paused, as if from that bright shore Beckoned our dear ones gone before ; And stilled our beating hearts to hear The voices lost to mortal ear! Sudden our pathway turned from right; The hills swung open to the light; Through their green gates the sunshine showed, A long slant splendor downward flowed. Down glade and glen and bank it rolled: It bridged the shaded stream with gold: And, borne on piers of mist, allied The shadowy with the sunlit side! **So,’’ prayed we, ‘‘ when our feet draw near The river dark with mortal fear. ‘‘And the night cometh, chill with dew, O Father, let thy light break through! ‘‘So let the hills of doubt divide, To bridge with faith the sunless tide\ *“So let the eyes that fail on earth O’er thy eternal hills look forth: ‘‘And in thy beckoning angels know The dear ones whom we loved below!’’ JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER The Golden Street, LE toil is very long and I am tired: = Oh, Father, I am weary of the way! Give me that rest I have so long desired; Bring me that Sabbath’s cool refreshing day, And let the fever of tty world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street Tired,—very tired! And I at times have seen, nt A Oe a ee When the far pearly gates were open thrown For those who walked no more with me, the green Sweet foliage of the trees that there alone At last wave over those whose world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street, When the gates open, and before they close— Sad hours but holy—I have watched the tide Whose living crystal there forever flows Before the throne, and sadly have I sighed To think how long until my world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street, They shall not wander from that blessed way ; Nor heat, nor cold, nor weariness, nor sin, Nor any clouds in that eternal day Trouble them more who once have entered in; But all is rest to them whose world-worn feet -ress the cool smoothness of the golden street, Thus the gates close and I behold no niore, Though, as I walk, they open oftener now For those who leave me and go on before; And I am lonely also while I bow And think of those dear souls whose world-worn fee Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. Tired, very tired !—but I will patient be, Nor will I murmur at the weary way; I too shall walk beside the crystal sea, And pluck the ripe fruit, all that God-lit day, When. thou, O Lord, shalt let my world-worn fess Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. WILLIAM QO. SToppaRLMaude and Madge. HEY sat and combed their beautiful hair, & Their long bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and talked in their chamber there, After the revel was done. Idly they talked of waltz and quadriile, Idly they laughed like other girls, Who over the fire, when all is still, Comb out their braids and curls. Robes of satin and Brussels lace, Knots of flowers, and ribbons, too, Scattered about in every place, For the revel is through. And Maud and Madge in robes of white, The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, Stockingless, slipperless, sit in the night, For the revel is done :— Sit and comb their beautiful hair, Those wonderful waves of brown and gold, ™11 the fire is out in the chamber there, \d the little bare feet are cold: Then out of the gathering winter chill, All out of the bitter St. Agnes weather, While the fire is out and the house is still, ‘aud and Madge together,— Maud and Madge in robes of white, The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, Curtained away from the chilly night, After the revel is done, Float along in a splendid dream, To a golden gittern’s tinkling tune, While a thousand lusters shimmering streat In a palace’s grand saloon, Flashing of jewels and flutter of laces, Tropical odors sweeter than musk, Men and women with beautiful faces, And eyes of tropical dusk. \nd one face shining out like a star, One face haunting the dreams of each, And one voice, sweeter than others are, Breaking in silvery speech ; felling through lips of bearded bloom An old, old story over again, As down the royal bannered room, To the golden gittern’s strain, Two and two they dreamily walk, While an unseen spirit walks beside, And, all unheard in the lover’s tals. He claimeth one for his bride. CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. His oe tac pe O Maud and Madge, dream on together, With never a pang of jealous fear! For, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather Shall whiten another year, Robed for the bridal and robed for the tomb, Braided brown hair and golden tress, There ’ll be only one of you left for the bloons Of the bearded lips to press. Only one for the bridai pearls, The robe of satin and Brussels lace~ Only one to blush through her curls At the sight of a lover’s face. O beautiful Madge, in your bridal white! For you the revel has just begun ; But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night The revel of Life is done! But robed and crowned with your saintly bliss. Queen of Heaven and bride of the sun, | O beautiful Maud, you’ll never miss The kisses another hath won ! NORA PER% Ships at Sea. HAVE ships that went to sea, | More than fifty years ago; None have yet come home to me, But are sailing to and fro. I have seen them in my sleep, Plunging through the shoreless deep, With tattered sails and battered hulls, While round them screamed the gulis. Flying low, flying low. I have wondered why they strayed From me, sai:ing round the world; And I’ve said, ‘‘I’m half afraid That their sails will ne’er be furled.’ Great the treasures that they sold, Silks, and plumes, and bars of gold; While the spices that they bear, Fill with fragrance all the air, As they sail, as they sail. Ah! each sailor in the port Knows that I have ships at sea, Of the waves and winds the sport, 4nd the sailors pity me. Oft they come and with me walk, Cheering me with hopeful talk, Till I put my fears aside, And, contented, watch the tide Rise and fall, rise and fall. eee be « =: uJ od .~ . x3 4 m Ss nt - ae Sere ee eS EE hs ey See ee the her Reali a p Sa a 3 Ka a". 2 lll ae a Tite Fe AN SS A ER SS Sy ee cs we pa nemo cs Ut i RN Neo fos ene Rae Ne eras F EB Slane OMORC ARE HERD Seeks AE edapuinine AOL D SLL L ERE SSSR CLRID ASSPPB ee “Oey eee af ae aoe : ' i i ite eet Ret ei ae ot tel ee hn a cas Bee i Sede PU ce SS I have waited on the piers, Gazing for them down the bay, Days and nights for many years, Till I turned heart-sick away. But the pilots, when they land, Stop and take me by the hand, Saying, ‘‘ You will live to see Your proud vessels come from sea, One and all, one and all.’’ So I never quite despair, Nor let hope or courage fail ; And some day, when skies are fair, Up the bay my ships will sail. { shall buy then all I need,— Prints to look at, books to read, Horses, wines, and works of art, Everything—except a heart, That is lost, that is lost. Once, when I was pure and young, Richer, too, than I am now, Ere a cloud was o’er me flung, Or a wrinkle creased my brow, There was one whose heart was mine}; But she’s something now divine, And though come my ships from sea, They can bring no heart to me Evermore, evermore. ROBERT B. COFFIN. The Courtin’. OD makes sech nights, all white an’ still ©) Fur ’z you can look or listen Moonshine an’ snow on field an’ hill All silence an’ all glisten. Zekel crep’ quite unbeknown An’ peeked in thru’ the winder, An’ there sot Huldy all alone, Ith no one nigh to hender. A fireplace filled the room’s one side With half a cord o’ wood in— There warn’t no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin’. Che wa’nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her | An’ leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. Agin the chimbley crook necks hung, An’ in among ’em rustud The old queen’s-arm thet gran’ther Young Fetched back from Concord busted. ‘B40 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin’ An’ she looked full ez rosy agin, Ez the apples she was peelin.’ *Twas kin’ o’ kingdom-come to look On such a blessed creetur, A dogrose blushin’ to a brook Ain’t modester nor sweeter. He was six foot o’ man, A I, Clean grit an’ human natur’ ; None couldn’t quicker pitch a ton Nor dror a furrer straighter. He’d sparked it with full twenty gals, He’d scuired ’em, danced ’em, druv ’en% Fust this one, an’ then thet, by spells— All is, ..e couldn’t love ’em. But long o’ her his veins ’ould run All crinkly like curled maple, The side she breshed felt full o’sun Ez a south slope in Ap’il. She thought no v’ice hed sech a swing Ez hisn in the choir; My! when he made ‘‘ Ole H.ndred”’ ring She knowed the Lord was nigher. An’ she’d blush scarlet, right in prayer When her new meetin’ bunnet Felt somehow thru’ its crown a pair O’ blue eyes sot upon it. She heered a foot, an’ knowed it tu, A raspin’ on the scraper— All ways to once her feelin’s flew Like sparks in burnt-up paper. He kin’ o’ l’itered on the mat, Some doubtfle 0’ the sekle. His heart kep’ goin’ pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle. An’ yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An’ on her apples kep’ to work, Parin’ away like murder. ~ o You want to see my Pa, I s’pose?’”’ “Wall .... nO... . I come designin’«" ‘*To see my Ma? She's sprinklin’ clo’es Agin to-morrer’s i’nin’.”’ To say why gals act so or so, Or don’t ’ould be presumin’ 3 Mebby to mean yes an’ say no Comes nateral to women.CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t’other, An’ on which one he felt the wust He couldn’t ha’ told ye nuther. Says he, ‘‘I’d better call agin ;” Says she ‘‘Think likely, Mister;’ That last word pricked him like a pin Ar .... Wal, he up an’ kist her When Ma bimeby upon ’em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin’ o’ smily roun’ the lips An’ teary roun’ the lashes. For she was jes’ the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snowhid in Jenooary. The blood clost roun’ her heart felt glued Too tight for all expressin’, Till mother see how metters stood, And gin ’em both her blessin’. Theu her red come back like the tide Down to the Bay o’ Fundy, An’ all I know is, they was cried In meetin’ come nex’ Sunday. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, On Recrossing the Rocky Mountains. ONG years ago I wandered here, (© In the midsummer of the year,— Life’s summer too; A score of horsemen here we rode, The mountain world its glories showed, All fair to view. These scenes in glowing colors drest, Mirrored the life within my breast, Its world of hopes ; The whispering woods and fragrant breeze That stirred the grass in verdant seas On billowy slopes. And glistening crag in sunlit sky, Mid snowy clouds piled mountains high, Were joys to mie ; My path was o’er the prairie wide, Or here on grander mountain-side, To choose, all free. ‘he rose that waved in morning air, And spread its dewy fragrance there In careless bloom, Gave to my heart its ruddiest hue, ’er my glad life its color three And amart* ma Larne pl-egl cee FYE Pda 41 mr, Vs We Tecw Gr) ey Se BA es ht eh 644 The buoyant hopes and busy life Have ended all in hateful strife, And thwarted aim. The world’s rude contact killed the rose, No more its radiant color shows ; False roads to fame. Backward, amidst the twilight glow Some lingering spots yet brightly show On hard roads won, Where still some grand peaks mark the way, Touched by the light of parting day And memory’s sun. But here thick clouds the mountains hide, The dim horizon bleak and wide No pathway shows, And rising gusts, and darkening sky, Tell of ‘‘the night that cometh,” nigh, The brief day’s close. JOHN C. FREMONT, The Old Hearthstone. Y son, thou wilt dream the world is fair, And thy spirit will sigh to roam, And thou must go; but never, when there. Forget the light of home ! Though pleasure may smile with a ray more brigh It dazzles to lead astray Like the meteor’s flash, ’twill deepen the night When treading thy lonely way :— But the hearth of home has a constant flame, And pure as a vestal fire— ’Twill burn, ’twill burn forever the same, For nature feeds the pyre. The sea of ambition is tempest-tossed, And thy hopes may vanish like foam— When sails are shiver’d and compass lost, Then look to the light of home ! And there, like a star through midnignt cloud, Thou’lt see the beacon bright; For never, till shining on thy shroud, Can be quenched its holy light. The sun of fame may guild the name, But the heart ne’er felt its ray ; And fashion’s smiles, that rich ones claim, Are beams of a wintry day. How cold and dim those beams would be, Should life’s poor wanderer come !— My son, when the world is dark to thee, Then turn to the light of home. SARAH J. HALE. ta ee Tae fe ne a ah 4 ae A a al " ~ aes aa Sioa ee aha RR Ne BE ee RN oe——— — << r— eae ne ee eee eth te A 8 Mi ee al a ce teeter oat. we ee CL ee cS CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The Sleeping Sentinel. The incidents here woven into verse relate to William Scott, & young soldier from the State of Vermont, who, while on duty asasentinel at night, fell asleep, and, having been condemned to die, was pardoned by the President. ‘They form a brief record of his humble life at home and in the field, and of his glorious death. 4 AS in the sultry summer-time, as war’s red a show, When patriot armies rose to meet a fratricidal ; foe— When, from the North and Hast and West, like the up- heaving sea, Swept forth Columbia’s sons, to make our country truly free. Within a prison’s dismal walls, where shadows veiled decey— In fetters, on a heap of straw, a youthful soldier lay ; Hleart-broken, hopeless, and forlorn, with short and feverish breath, He waited but the appointed hour to die a culprit’s death. Yet, but a few brief weeks before, untroubled with 2 care, He roamed at will, and freely drew his native moun- tain air— Where sparkling streams leap mos’ 7 rocks, from many a woodland font, And waving elms, and grassy slopes, give beauty to Vermont. Where, dwelling in a humble cot, a tiller of the soil— Eacircled by a mother’s love he shared a father’s toil— Till, borne upon the wailing winds, his suffering coun- try’s cry Fired his young heart with fervent zeal, for her to live or die; Fhen left he all: a few fond tears, by firmness half concealed, A blessing, and a parting prayer, and he was in the field— The field of strife, whose dews are biood, whose breezes war’s hot breath, Whose fruits are garnered in the grave, whose hus- bandman is death ! Without a murmur, he endured a service new and hard; But, wearied with a toilsome march, it chanced one night, on guard, He sank, exhausted, at his post, and the gray morning found His prostrate form—a sentinel asleep upon the ground. | | So in the silence of the night, aweary, on the sod, Sank the disciples, watching near the suffering Son 9j God; Yet, Jesus, with compassion moved, beheld their heavy eyes, And though betray’d to ruthless foes, forgiving, bade them rise. But God is love—and finite minds can faintly compre. hend How gentle mercy, in His rule, may with stern justice blend ; And this poor soldier, seized and bound, found none to justify, While war’s inexorable law decreed that he must die. Twas night.—In a secluded room, with measured tread, and slow, A statesman of commanding mien paced gravely ta and fro ; Oppressed, he pondered on a land by civil discord rent ; On brothers armed in deadly strife :-——it was the Presi dent. The woes of thirty millions filled his burdened heart with grief, Embattled hosts, on land and sea, acknowledged hits their chief ; And yet, amid the din of war, he heard the plaintive cry Of that poor soldier, as he lay in prison, doomed to die. ’ papas : z Twas morning.—On a tented field, and through the heated haze, Wleach i = s : . x Flashed back, from lines of burnished arms, the sun’s effulgent blaze ; While, from a sombre prison-house, seen slowly te emerge A sad procession, o’er the sward, moved to a m filet dirge. And in the midst, with faltering steps, and pal: and anxious face, In manacles, between two guards, a soldier lh 4 his place, A youth—led out to die;—and yet, it was not feath, but shame That smote his gallant heart with dread, and sh » hit manly frame. Still on, before the marshali’d ranks, the train pursn 4 its way Up to the designated spot, whereon a coffin lay— His coffin; and with reeling brain, despairing—7 ese late— He took his station by its side, abandoned to his fate.Then came across his wavering sight strange pictures in the air; He sawhis distant mountain home; he saw his mother there ; He saw his father bowed in grief, thro’ fast-declining years ; He saw a nameless grave; and then, the vision closed —in tears. Yet once again. In double file advancing, then, he | saw Twelve comrades sternly set apart to execute the law— But saw no more; his senses swam—deep darkness settled round— And, shuddering, he awaited now the fatal volley’s sound. Then suddenly was heard the noise of steed and wheels approach, And, rolling through a cloud of dust, appeared a stately coach, On, past the guards, and through the field, its rapid course was bent, Till, halting, ’mid the lines was seen the nation’s President. He came to save that stricken soul, now waking from despair ; And from a thousand voices rose a shout which rent the air; The pardoned soldier understood the tones of jubilee, And, bounding from his fetters, blessed the hand that made him free. ’Twas spring—within a verdant vale, where Warwick’s crystal tide Reflected, o’er its peaceful breast, fair fields on either side— Where birds and ficwers combined to cheer a sylvan solitude— Two threatening armies, face to face in fierce defiance stood. Two threatening armies! One invoked by injured Liberty—- . | Which bore above its patriot ranks the Symbol of the Free; And one, a rebel horde, beneath a flaunting flag of | - bars, A fragment, torn by traitorous hands, from Freedoni’s Stripes and Stars. : A sudden shock which shook the earth, ’mid vapor dense and dun, Proclaimed, along the echoing hills, the conflict had begun ; And shot and shell, athwart the stream with fiendish fury sped, To strew among the living lines the dying and the CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. dead. Then, louder than the roaring storm, pealed forth the stern command, “Charge! soldiers, chargel’? and, et the word, with shouts, a fearless band, Two hundred heroes from Vermont, rushed onward, through the flood, And upward o’er the rising ground, they marked their way in blood. The smitten foe before them fled, in terror, from his post— While, unsustained; two hundred stood, to battle witt a host! Then turning as the rallying ranks, with murd’rous fire replied, They bore the fallen o’er the field, and through the purple tide. The fallen! And the first who fell in that unequal strife, Was he whom mercy sped to save when justice claimed his life— The pardon’d soldier! And while yet the conflict raged around, While yet his life-blood ebbed away through every gaping wound— While yet his voice grew tremulous, and death bhe- dimmed his eye— He called his comrades to attest he had not feared , die $ And in his last expiring breath, a prayer to heayen was sent, That Ged, with His unfailing grace, would bless ouz President. FRANCIS DE HAES JANVIER.- Old Grimes. 6 LD Grimes is dead, that good old man— (9 We ne’er shall see him more ; He used to wear a long black coat, All buttoned down before. His heart was open as the day, His feelings all were true ; His hair was some inclined to gray— He wore it in a queue. Whene’er he heard the voice of pain, His breast with pity burned ; The large round head upon his cane From ivory was turned. Kind words he ever had for all; He knew no base design 5 His eyes were dark and rather small, His nose was aquiline- a EPR RRA E PIE aly Pt as en Re eRe RTL eg ee eaaaied g's ce FRR on Yo eee a See eS ee _ a eee an a ey io) a mf a. i ante Bs oe a ke ee Pa Ae Te eSeee ae Pome St eae a ANP fo | i | y f ee eck bag akan sie SE Ei Me Sieebadind I © $44 fe lived at peace with all mankind, In friendship he was true; Ais coat had pocket-holes behind, His pantaloons were blue. Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutes He passed securely o’er, And never wore a pair o’ boots For thirty years or more. But good Old Grimes is now at rest, Nor tears misfortune’s frown ; He wore a double-breasted vest— The stripes ran up and down. He modest merit sought to find, And pay it its desert ; He had no malice in his mind, No ruffles on his shirt. His neighbors he did not abuse— Was sociable and gay 3 He wore large buckles on his shoes, And changed them every day. His knowledge, hid from public gaze, He did not bring to view, Nor make a noise town-meeting days, As many people do. His worldly goods he never threw In trust to fortune’s chances, But lived (as all his brothers do) In easy circumstances. Thus undisturbed by anxious cares His peaceful moments ran ; And everybody said he was A fine old gentleman. ALBERT G. GREENE, The Vagabonds. B are two travelers, Roger and I. © Roger’s my dog :—come here, you scamp ! Jump for the gentlemen—mind your eye! Over the table—look out for the lamp !|— The rogue is growing a little old; Five years we’ve tramped through wind and weather, And slept ouit-doors when nights were cold, And ate and drank—and starved together. QWe' ve learned what comfort is, I tell you! A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, & fire to thaw our thumbs (poor fellow! The paw he holds up there’s been frozen,) Plenty of catgut for my fiddle, (This out-door business is bad for strings, ) Then a How, when and iter the monster fell ; What dogs before his death he tore, And all the baiting of the boar. The wassail round, in good brown bowls Garnished with ribbons, blithlely trow & There the huge sirloin reeked; hard by Is, is. Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie: Nor failed old Scotland to produce, At such high-tide, her savory goose. Then came the merry oe in; And carols roared with blithesome din; %f unmelodious was the song, Lils en eee i It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see ‘Traces of ancient mystery} White skirts supplied the masquerade And smutted cheeks the visors made 5 But, O, what maskers richly dight Can boast of bosoms half so light! England was merry * when Old Christmas brought nis spurts again. ”T’ was Christmas broached the mightiest ale: ¥ “I* wag Christmas told the merriest tale ; A Christmas nbol oft could cheer ‘The poor man’s is art through half the year. SiR WALTER SCOTT % JOUR wedding ring wears thin, dear wife; ah WC =summers not a few, Since I put it on your fiuger’ have passed o’ex me and you; And, love, what changes we ha, seen,—what cares and pleasures, too,— Since you became my own dea fe, when this old shy une Hake f= ring was Low ! O, blessings on that happy d the happiest of my life, When, thanks to God, your] sweet ‘* Yes ’’ made : wxr lnwing wite you my ioving wile .7 a9 ty ot +1] . y Lac , a es 44 ¢ * Y our peart willl Say the Same, i KHOW ; tne at ¢ lay 7s as +1 + ’ wa cAI i r th at made me yours, dear wife, when this o:d How well dc » I reinember now your youn How fair you were, how dear you were, m/ tongne - ai ie oe 1} . . coul raraly Say ) Nox how I doated on you ; O, how proud I was of you But did I love you more than now, when this old rin: was new ! No—no! no fairer were you then than at this hour te me } And, dear as life to me this day, howcould you dearer ° As sweet your face might be that day as now itis, *tis true! But did I know your heart as well when this old rine Years bring fresh links to bind us, wife,—young voices that are here, Young faces round our fire that make their mother’s yet more dear ; Young loving hearts your care each day makes et more like to you, More like the loving heart made mine when this old ring was new.CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The past is dear, its sweetness still our memories treas- ure yet; The griefs we’ve borne, together borne, we would now forget. Whatever, wife, the future brings, heart unto heart still true, not We'll share as we have shared all else since this old ring was new. And if God spares us ’mongst our sons and daughters to grow old, We know His goodness will not let your heart or mine grow cold. Your aged eyes will see in mine all they’ve still shown to you, And mine in yours all they have seen since this old ring was new. And O, when death shall come at last to bid me to my rest, May I die looking in those eyes, a resting on that breast ; O, may my parting gaze be blesse’ with the dear sight of you, Of those fond eyes,-—fond as they were when this old ring was new! WILLIAM Cox BENNETT, Faithless Nelly Gray. \ EN BATTLE was a soldier bold, ) And used to war’s alarms; But a cannon ball took off his legs So he laid down his arms! Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, ‘‘ Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot!’’ The army surgeons made him limbs: Said he—‘‘ They’re only pegs; But there’s as wooden members quite As represent my legs !”’ retty maid, Watt Gray ! So he went to pay her his devours When he’d devoured his pay. Now Ben he loved a { Her name was Nell) But when he called on Nelly Gray, She made him quite a scoff; And when she saw his wooden legs Began to take them off! j “O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray? Is this your love so warm? The love that loves a scarlet coat, Should be more uniform |” Said she, ‘*I loved a soldier once, For he was blithe and brave; But f will never have a man With both legs in the gravel e you had those timber tots, Your love I did allow, But then you know, you stand upon Another footing now !”’ ““O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! For all your cheering speeches, At duty’s call I left my legs In Badajos’s breaches !” ‘Why, then,”’ said she, ‘‘ you’ve lost the feet Of legs in war’s alarms, And now you cannot wear your shoes Upon your feats of arms!’ **O, false and fickle Nelly Gray; I know why you refuse :— Though I’ve no feet—some other man Is standing in my shoes! ** I wish I n’er had seen your face But, now, a long farewell ! For you will be my death :—alas! You will not be my Wed//” 9 Now when he went from Nelly Gray, tm Aart on nee ee His heart so heavy got And life was such a burthen grown, It made him take a knot ! So round his melancholy neck A rope he did entwine, And, for his second time in life, Enlisted in the Line! One end he tied around a beam, And then removed his pegs, And, as his legs were off—of course He soon was off his legs ! And there he hung till he was dead As any nail in town— For though distress had cut him up, It could not cut him down ! A dozen men sat on bis corpse, To find out why he died— And they buried Ben in four cross-roads, With a stake in his inside! THOMAS Hoop | a 4 ee La ee | a a 2NN ee Slee ee ae om Se a mS a ee | | i ; Tn inn ieee OI MS dace Eat Sta eae eee eee a ee Oe a 64% CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. A Milkmaid’s Song. ULL, pull! and the pail is full, | And milking’s done and over, Who would not sit here under the tree? What a fair, fair thing’s a green field to see! Brim, brim, to the sim, ah me ! I have set my pail on the daisies! It seems so light—can the sun be set? The dews must be heavy, my cheeks are wet, I could cry to have hurt the daisies ! Harry is near, Harry is near, My heart’s as sick as if he were here, My lips are burning, my cheeks are wet, He hasn’t uttered a word as yet, But the air’s astir with his praises. My Harry! The air’s astir with your praises. He has scaled the rock by the pixy’s stone, He’s among the kingcups—he picks me one, I love the grass that I tread upon When I go to my Harry! He has jumped the brook, he has climbed the knoll, There’s never a faster foot I know, But still he seems to tarry. (i Harry! O Harry! my love, my pride, My heart is leaping, my arms are wide | Roll up, roll up, you dull hillside, Roll up, and bring my Harry ! They may talk of glory over the sea, But Harry’s alive, and Harry's for me. My love, my lad, my Harry ! Come spring, come winter, come sun, come snow, What cares Dolly, whether or no, While I can milk and marry? Right or wrong, and wrong or right, Quarrel who quarrel, and fight who fight, But I'll bring my pail home every night To love, and home, and Harry ! We'll drink our can, we’ll eat our cake, There’s beer in the barrel, there’s bread in the bake, The world may sleep, the world may wake, But I shall milk and marry, And marry, { shall milk and marry. SYDNEY DOBELL. John Maynard. é WAS on Lake Erie’s broad expanse, @ One bright midsummer day, The gallant steamer Ocean Queen Swept proudly on her way. Bright faces clustered on the deck, Or leaning o’er the side, Watched carelessly the feathery foam, That flecked the rippling tide. “ase Ah, who beneath that cloudless sky, That smiling bends serene, Could dream that danger, awful, vast, Impended o’er the scene— Could dream that ere an hour had sped, That frame of sturdy oak Would sink beneath the lake’s blue wav@4 Blackened with fire and smoke? A seaman sought the captain’s side, A moment whispered low; The captain’s swarthy face grew pale, He hurried down below. Alas, too late! Though quick and sharj And clear his orders came, No human efforts could avail To quench the insidious flame. The bad news quickly reached the deck, It sped from lip to lip, And ghastly faces everywhere Looked from the dooméd ship. ‘‘Tg there no hope—no chance of life ?”” A hundred lips implore ; ‘¢But one,’ the captain made reply, ‘To run the ship on.shore.”’ A sailor, whose heroic soul That hour should yet reveal— By name John Maynard, eastern born— Stood calmly at the wheel. “‘ Head her southeast !’’ the captain shout, Above the smothered roar, -‘ Head her southeast without delay | Make for the nearest shore |”’ No terror pales the helmsman’s cheek, Or clouds his dauntless eye, As in asailor’s measured tone His voice responds, ‘‘ Ay, Ay!” Three hundred souls—the steamer’s freight-~ Crowd forward wild with fear, While at the stern the dreadful flames Above the deck appear. John Maynard watched the nearing flames, But still, with steady hand He grasped the wheel, and steadfastly He steered the ship to land. ‘John Maynard,”’ with an anxious voice, The captain cries once more, ‘“‘ Stand by the wheel five minutes yet, And we will reach the shore. ”’ Through flames and smoke that dauntless hear Responded firmly, still Unawed, though face to face with death, ‘With God’s good help I will!”CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The flames approach with giant strides, They scorch his hands and brow , One arm disabled seeks his side, Ah, he is conquered now! But no, his teeth are firmly set, He crushes down the pain— His knee upon the stanchion pressed, He guides the ship again. One moment yet! one moment yet! Brave heart, thy task is o’er|! The pebbles grate beneath the keel, The steamer touches shore. Three hundred grateful voices rise, Tn praise to God, that He Hath saved them from the fearful fire, And from the ingulfing sea. But where is he, that helmsman bold? The captain saw him reel— His nerveless hands released their task, He sunk beside the wheel. The wave received his lifeless corpse, Blackened with smoke and fire. God resthim ! Hero never had A nobler funeral pyre | HORATIO ALGER “2. It Snows. _, §T snows!” cries theschoolboy—“ Hurran!”’ and 4 and his shout Is ringing through the parlor and hail, While swift as the wink of a swallow, he’s out, And his playmates have answered his call: % makes the heart leap but to witness their joy— Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow, Like the rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy, As he gathers his treasures of snow; Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs, While health and the riches of nature are theirs. “Tt snows!” sighs the imbecile—‘‘Ah!’’ and his breath Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight; While from the pale aspect of nature in death, He turns to the blaze of his grate: And nearer, and nearer, his soft-cushioned chair Is wheeled tow’rds the life-giving flame— He dreads a chill puff of the srow-burdened air, Lest it wither his delicate frame: Dh, small is the pleasure existence can give, When the fear we shall die only proves that we live! sd aR: Ge Uy a ae ange: 64¢ “It snows!’ cries the traveler~‘‘ Ho!” and thi word Has guickened his steed’s lagging pace ; The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard— Unfelt the sharp drift in his face; For bright through the tempest his own home ap peared— Ay, though leagues intervened, he can see; | There’s the clear, glowing hearth, and the table pre pared, And his wife with their babes at her knee. Blest thought! how it lightens the grief-laden hour, That those we love dearest are safe from its power ! ‘“‘It snows!’ cries the belle—‘‘Dear, how lucky !’ and turns From her mirror to watch the flakes fall; Like the first rose cf summer, her dimpled chee} burns, While musing on sleigh-ride and bail: There are visions of conquest, of splendor, and miith Floating over each drear winter’s day ; But the tintings of hope on this storm beaten eartr. Will melt like the snow flakes, away ; Turn, turn thee to heaven, fair maiden, for bliss That world has a fountain ne’er opened in this. “Tt snows!’ cries the widow—‘O God!’ and ka sighs Have stifled the voice of her prayer; [ts burden ye’ll read in her tear-swollen eyes On her cheek, sunk with fasting and care. ‘Tis night—and her fatherless ask her for bread— But ‘‘ He gives the young ravens their food,”’ And she trusts, till her dark heart adds horror to dread And she lays on her last chip of wood. ' Poor sufferer! that sorrow thy God only knows~~ ’Tis a piti‘ul lot to be poor when it snows! SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. Johnny Bartholomew. HE journals this morning are full of a tale Of a terrible ride through a tunnel by rail; And people are called on to note and admire How a hundred or more, through the smoke-clond ané fire, Were borne from all peril to limbs and to lives—- Mothers saved to their children, and husbands to wit ¢. But of him who performed such a notable deed Quite little the journalist gives us to read. | In truth, of this hero so plucky and bold, There is nothing except, in few syllables told, His name, which is Johnny Bartholomew. RnR AER ee We OS aR SA ee HO as pe mtg Se Ur eA at a Bi i ; ee i ; Sie ie ae : Pee TS ce ee SR enn ON en a ee ana 2ee ene Fes ae Pd : f ; i i i PAS Me DEBE oo oko geting Wo he Seebtictind ne bio Le 650 Away in Nevada—they one t tell us where, Nor does it much matter—a railway is oe Which winds in and out irsele oe cloven ravines, With glimpses at times of the wildest of scenes— Now passing a pee seeming fine as a thread that impend o’er the I head, Now shooting past cli Now plunging some be k-throated tunnel within, Whose darkness is roused at the clatter aud din ; And ran every da with its train o’er o road, An engine that ste “aalily dragged on its lo id, 7 i And was driven by Johnny Bartl eee, With throttle-valve down, he was s! owing the train While the sparks fell around and I behind a 1 like rain, As he came to a spot where a curve to the right Brought the black sight, yawuing ae of a tunnel in And peering ahead with a far-seeing ken, Felt a quick sense of danger come over him then. Was atrain on the track? No! A peril as dire— The further extreme of the tunnel on fire! And the volume of smoke as : gathered and rolled, Shook fearful dismay from each dun-colored fold, But daunted not Johnny Bartholomew. Beat faster his heart, though its current stood stul, And his nerves felt a jar but no rie thrill ; y Bie through their partly And nid eyes keenl shes, And his lips—not with fear—took the color of ashes. ‘OTF we falter, these people behind us are dead ! ) i t So close the doors, ot e’ll send her ahead! Crowd on the steam till she rattles and swings! Open the throttle-valve! ise her her wings! Shouted he from his post in the engineer’s room, ’ Driving onward perchance to a terr ible doom, This man they call Johnny Bartholomew Firm grasping the bell-rope and holding his breat On, on through the Vale of the Shadow of aie. 11 On, on through that horrible cavern of hell, Through flames that arose and through timbers that fell, Through the eddying smoke and the serpents of fire That writhed and that hissed in their anguish and ire, With a rush and a roar like a wild tempest’s blast, To the free air beyond them in safety they passed! While the clang of the bell and the steam pij yell, e’s shrill! Told the joy at escape from that underground hell Of the man they called Johnny Bartholomew. Did the passengers get up a service o. plate? Did some oily-tongued orator at the man prate? Women kiss him? Young children cling fast to hie knees? CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Stout men in their rapture his brown fingers squeeze! And where was he born? Is he handsome? Has he A wife for his bosom, a child for his knee? Is he young? Ishe old? Ishe tall? Is he short? Well, ladies the journals tell naught of the sort, And all that they give us about him to-d After telling the tale in a SS aN ae name is Johnny Bartholomew. THOMAS DUNN ENGLIS Js—the man’s James Fitz-James and Ellen. @ FOOTSTEP struck her ear, 37 * And Snowdoun’s graceful Knight wes ne She turned the hastier, lest again The prisoner should renew his strain. ‘OQ welcome, brave Fitz-James !”’ How may an almost orphan maid Pay the deep debt’’—“‘O, say net so { To me no gratitude you owe. Not mine, alas! the boon to give, And bid thy noble father live ; I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, With Scotland’s King thy suit to aid. No tyrant he, though ire and pride May lead his better mood aside. Come, Ellen, come; ’t is more than time, He holds his court at morning prime.” With beating heart and bosom wrung, As to a brother’s arm she clung, Gently he dried th mee x tear, And oe gee ‘ed hope and cheer 3; Her faltering steps half led, half stay ed, Througl rh gallery fair and high arcade, Till, at his ma its wings of pride A portal arch unfolded wide. Within ’t was brilliant all and light, A thronging scene of ios sures bright 5 It glowed on Ellen’s dazzled sight, As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to summer eve And from 5 Mies tissue fancy frames Aerial knights and fairy dames. Still by Fitz-James her footing stayed 5 A few faint steps she forward made, Then slow her drooping head she raised, And fearful round the presence gazed : For him she sought who owned this state, The dreaded prince whose will was fate ! She gazed on many a princely port Might well have tid a royal court ; On many a splendid garb she gazed— Then turned bewildered and amazed, For all stood bare ; and in the roor. “+7-Tames alone wore cap and plume,CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. OSE To him each lady’s look was lent, On him each courtier’s eye was bent, Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen te stood, in simple Lincoln green, The centre of the glittering ring— And Snowdoun’s Knight is Scotland’s King! As wreath of snow, on mountain breast, Slides from the rock that gave it rest, Poor Ellen glided from her stay, And at the Monarch’s feet she lay; No word her choking voice Bonisiawds : She showed the ring, she clasped her hands, O, not a moment eal he hie yx, The generous prince, that suppliant look! Gently he raised her, and the while Checked with a glance the circle’s sinile* Graceful, but grave, her brow he pines And bade her terrors be dismissed :- ¢ Yes, fair; the wandering poor ee The fealty of Scotland claims. To him thy woes, thy wishes bring ; He will -deem his signet-ring. Ask naugne for Douglas ; yester even His prince and he have much forgiven Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, I, from his rebel kinsman, wrong. We would not to the vulgar crowd Vield what they craved with clamor r loud ; Calmly we heard and judged his cause, Our council aided and our laws, I stanched thy father’s death-feud stern, With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; And Bothwell’s Lord henceforth we own The friend and bulwark of our throne. But, lovely infidel, how now? What clouds thy misbelieving brow? Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid; Thou must confirm this doubting m< aay Then forth the neble Douglas sprung, And on his neck his daughter hung. The monarch drank, that happy hour, The sweetest, holiest draught of power— When it can say. the godlike voice, Arise, sad virtue, and rejoice ! Vet would not James the general eye On nature’s raptures long should pry He stepped between-—“‘Nay, Douglas, nay, Steal not my proselyte away ! The riddle ’t is my right to read, That brought this happy chance to speed. Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray Tn life’s more low, but happier way, "Tl is under name which veils my power, Nor falsely veils, for Stirling’s tower — sect AES | GN Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, And Normans call me James Fitz-James. Thus watch I o’er insulted laws, Thus learn to right the injured cause.’’ Then, in a tone apart and low, ‘** Ah, little trait’ress! none must know What idle dream, what lighter thought, Vhat vanity full dearly bought, Joined tu thine eye’s dark witchcraft, drev. My spell-bound steps to Benvenue, In dangerous hour, and all but gave Thy monarch’s life to mountain glaive{* Aloud he spoke—‘‘Thou still dost hold That little talisman of gold, ledge of my faith, Fitz-James’s ring: What seeks fair Hillen of the King ?”’ Full well the conscious maiden guessed. He probed the weakness of her breast ; But with that consciousness there came A lightening of her fears for Greme, And more she deemed the monarch’s ire Kindled ’gainst him, who, for her sire, Rebellious broadsword boldiy drew ; And, to her generous feeling true, She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. ‘* Forbear thy su't; the King ofkings 4:°¢ Alone can stay li-e’s parting wings. I know his heart, I know his hand, Have shared his cheer, and proved his brané My fairest earldom would I give To bid Clan-Alpine’s chieftain live !— Hast thou no other boon to crave? No other captive friend to save?”’ Blushing, she turned her from the king, And to the Douglas As if she wished her ate to speak The suit that stained her glowing cheek. ‘‘ Nay, then, my Be “ eae lost its force, And stubborn justice holds her course. Malooitt come forth !’’—And, at the word Down knelt the Greeme to Scotland’s lord ‘¢ Ror thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, From thee may vengeance claim her dues, Who, nurtured underneath our smile, Hast paid our care by treacherous wile, And sought, amid thy faithful clan, A refuge for an outlawed man, Dishonoring thus thy royal name— Fetters and warder for the Greme |’? His chains of gold the king unstrung The links o’er Malco!m’s neck he fit ae Then gently drew the glittering band, And laid the clasp on Ellen’s hand. yave the ring, ay Srrk WALTER Score ee ae | ee a | s Se Pic Re Rate fr Re ne A ONIN ee ae ee Reee hen incarcerated ABS Mead ai hk ian aon sponte eneie era eae ae eee A i] £ ys 652 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Observations of Rev. Gabe Tucker. or may notch it on de palin’sas a mighty resky pian : To make your judgment by the clo’es dat kivers up a man ; ®or I hardly needs to; Ml you how you often come er- cross A fifty-dollar saddle on a twenty-dollar hoss. An,’ wukin’ in de low-groun’s, you diskiver, as you 80 e 9 . e Dat the fines’ shuck may hide de meanes’ nubbin ina row | [think a man has got a mighty slender chance for heben Dat holds on to his piety but one day out 0’ seben; Dat talks about de sinners wid a heap o’ solemn chat, An’ nebber draps a nickel in de missionary hat ; Dat’s foremost in the meetin’-house for raisin all de chunes, But lays aside his ’ligion wid his Sunday pantaloons | I nebber judge o” people dat I meets along the way By de places whar dey come fum an’ de houses whar dey stay ; For de bantam chicken’s awful fond o’ roostin pretty high, An’ de turkey-buzzard sails above de eagle in de sky ; Dey ketches little minners in the middle ob de sea, An’ you finds de smalles’ *possum up de bigges’ kind o’tree | J- A. Macon. The Three Dearest Words. t HERE are three words that sweetly blend, That on the heart are graven; A precious, soothing balm they lend— They’re mother, home and heaven | They twine a wreath of beauteous flowers, Which, placed on memory’s urn, Will e’en the longest, gloomiest hours To golden sunlight turn! They form a chain whose every lin”: Is free from base alloy; A stream where whosoever drinks Will find refreshing joy ! They build an altar where each day Love’s offering is renewed ; And peace illumes with genial ray Life’s darkened solitude! #f from our side the first nas fled, And home be but a name, Let’s strive the narrow path to tread, That we the last may gain ! The Funeral. WAS walking in Savannah, past a church decayed and dim, When there slowly through the window came z plaintive funeral hymn; And a sympathy awakened, and a wonder quickly grew, Till I found myself environed in a little negro pew. Out at front a colored couple sat in sorrow, nearly wild, On the altar was a coffin, in the coffin was a child. I could picture him when living—curly ha’‘r, protrué ing lip— And had seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trip. But no baby ever rested in the soothing arms of deatl Nhat had fanned more flames of sorrow with hie fluttering breath; And no funeral ever glistened with more sympathy profound Than was in the chain of tear drops that enclasped those mourners round. Rose a sad old colored preacher at the little wooden desk, With a manner grandly awkward, with a countenance grotesque 5 With simplicity and shrewdness on his Ethiopian face ; With the ignorance and wisdom of a crushed, undying race. And he said, ‘*Now, don’ be weepin’ for dis prettr bit o’ clay For de little boy who lived there, he done gone an run away ! He was doin’ very finely, and he ’precitate your love; But his sure ’nuff Father want him in de large house up above. “Now, He didn’t give you dat baby, by a hundreé thousand mile! He jist think you need some sunshine, an’ He lend it for a while! An’ He let you keep an’ love him till your heart was bigger grown; An’ dese silver tears you’re sheddin’s jest de interest on de loan. “Here yer oder pretty chilrun !—Don’t be makin’ 4 appear Dat your love got sort 0’ ’nopolized by this little fellow here. Don’t pile up too much your sorrows on deir little mental shelves, MARY J. MUCKLER. : So’s to kind 0’ set ’em wonderin’ if dey’re no account demselves?corte el Dee ere a ak aS PERSIE SOE eS CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Just you think, you poor deah mounahs, creepin’ ‘long o’er sorrow’s way, What a blessed little picnic dis yere baby’s got to-day! Your good faders and good moders crowd de little fel- low round In de angel-tended garden of de Big Plantation Ground. ‘An’ dey ask him, ‘‘’Was your feet sore?’ an’ take off his little shoes. An’ dey wash him, and dey kiss him, and dey say, ‘Now, what’s de news ?’ An’ de Lawd done cut his tongue loose, den de little fellow say : $All our folks down in de valley tries tu keep de heb- enly way.’ * An’ his eyes dey brightly sparkle at de pretty things he view ; Den a tear come, and he whisper: ‘But I want my paryents too !’ But de Angel Chief Musician teach dat boy a little song ; Says, “Tf only dey be faithful, dey will soon be comin’ long.’ An’ he’ll get an education dat will proberly be worth Seheral times as much as any you could buy for him on earth ; He'll be in de Lawd’s big school-house, widout no contempt or tear, While dere’s no end to de bad tings might have hap- pened to him here. «So, my pooah dejected mounahs, let your hearts wid Jesus rest, An’ don’t go to critersizin’ dat ar One wot knows the best ! He have sent us many comforts—He have right to take away— Yo the Lawd be praise an’ glory, now and ever! Let us pray.” WiLL M. CARLETON. ed Shacob’s Lament. XCOOSE me if I shed some tears, Und wipe my nose away, Und if a lump vos in my troat, It comes up dere to shtay. My sadness I shall now unfoldt, Und if dot tale of woe TDon’d do some Dutchmans any good, Den I don’t pelief I know. Yousee, I fall myself in love, Und effery night I goes Across to Brooklyn by dot pridge, All dressed in Sunday clothes: A vidder vomans vos der brize, Her husband he vos dead; Und all alone in this coldt voridt Dot vidder vos, she said. Her heart for love vos on der pine, Und dot I like to see; : Und all der time I hoped dot hearé Vos on der pine for me. I keeps a butcher shop, you know, Und in a stocking stout, I put avay my gold and bills, Und no one gets him oudt. If in der night some bank cashier Goes skipping off mit cash, TI shleep so sound as nefer vos, Vhile rich folks go to shmash. I court dot vidder sixteen months, Dot vidder she courts me, Und vhen I says: ‘‘ Vill you be mine?” She says: ‘‘ You bet I'll be!” Ve vos engaged—oh ! blessed fact ! I squeeze dot dimpled hand ; Her head upon my shoulder lays, Shust like a bag of sand. ‘¢ Before der vedding day vos set,’ She vispers in mine ear, ‘‘T like to say I haf to use Some cash, my Jacob, dear. “ J owns dis house and two big farms, Und ponds und railroad stock ; Und up in Yonkers I bossess A grand big peesness block. ‘6 Der times vos dull, my butcher boy, Der market vos no good, Und if I sell’’—I squeezed her handt To show I understood. Next day—oxcoose my briny tears Dot shtocking took a shrink ; I counted out twelve hundred in Der cleanest kind o’ chink. Und later, by two days or nore, Dot vidder shlopes avay ; Und leaves a note behindt for me In vhich dot vidder say: * DEAR SHAKE: Der rose vos redt, Der violet blue— You see I’ve left, Und you're left, toc 1” CHARLES FB. ADAM& i a ara PERTTI OITA ie ec RTE I ROI : See AES RN Sa A NO LATA AA PATE DENI AE Abe STARA MD Sane SLR MENASOS ED BSD bb} abs CR RRR RTA whim Rhg SceaaNoaalad . nats ep Pt Se ‘ ce z : “aE 5s | - cA et 2 $ FE vaceTee Ne oe eet a eee Se eae en eRe NT EN eR ene De RP PU I Bee Sy eee 2 ei eee ay654 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. The Drummer Boy. Wandering where a footstep careles¢ Might go splashing down in blood Or a helpless hand lie grasping APTAIN GRAHAM, the men were sayin’ Death and daisies from the sod— " © Ye would want a drummer lad, Captain Grahain walked swift onward, So I’ve brought my boy Sandie, While a faintly-beaten drum Tho’ my heart is woeful sad ; Quickened heart and step together: But nae bread is left to feed us, ‘Sandie Murray! See, I come! And no siller to buy more, For the gudeman sleeps forever, Where the heather blossonis o’er. AN INCIDENT OF THE CRIMEAN WAR, yee! ee ~~ ae Pees ‘Ts it thus I find you, laddie ? Wounded, lonely, lying here, Playing thus the reveille? See—the morning is not near.’’ * ‘Sandie, make your manners quickly, Play your blithest measure true— Give us ‘Flowers of Edinboro’, While yon fifer plays it too. Captain, heard ye e’er a player Strike in truer time than he?’’ “Nay, in truth, brave Sandie Murray Drummer of our corps shall be.”’ A moment paused the drummer boy, And lifted up his drooping head: ‘** Oh, Captain Graham, the light is coming, ’Tis morning, and my prayers are said. tr gee ‘Morning! See, the plains grow brighter Morning—and I’m going home; That is why I play the measure, ‘I give ye thanks—but, Captain, maybe Ye will hae a kindly care For the friendiess, lonely laddie, When the battle wark is sair: For Sandie’s aye been good and gentle, And I’ve nothing else to love, Nothing—but the grave off yonder, And the Father up above.’’ Mother will not see me come ; But you'll tell her, won’t you, Captain—” Hush, the boy has spoken true ; To him the day has dawned forever, Unbroken by the night’s tattoo. Help One Another. ELP one another,’’ the snow flakes said, * B\ a. they cuddled down in their fleecy bev: ‘‘One of us here would not be felt, One of us here would quickly melt, But I'll help you, and you help me, And then what a big white drift we’ll see.” Then, her rough hand gently laying On the curl-encircled head, She blessed her boy. The tent was silent, And not another word was said ; For Captain Graham was sadly dreaming Of a benison, long ago, Breathed above his head, then golden pp > i | Bending now, and touched with snow. Help one another,’’ the maple spray Said to its fellow leaves one day ; 4 St ; 3 ‘6 a 4 ‘ + ; !Good-bye, Sandie.” ‘‘ Good-bye, mother, The sun would wither me here alone, ; Ill come back some summer day ; Long enough ere the day is gone, i Don’t you fear—they don’t shoot drummers But I’ll help you, and you help me, ° ~ oe , “ . > : ce ‘ a eae) }1 " $2 Ever. Do they, Captain Gra > And then what a splendid shade there’l! be. i One more kiss—watch for me, mother, “i ee z — Help one another,’’ the dew drop cried, You will know ’tis surely me ee oe ; : : Seeing another drop close to its side ; Coming home—for you will hear me Thi th I ldd j : is warm south breeze would dry me away, Playing soft the reveille.’’ 5 ae And I should be gone ere noon to-day, But I'll help you, and you help me, And we’ll make a brook and run to the ses.” A ka After battle. Moonbeamis ghastly Seemed to link in strange affright, As the scudding clouds before them Shadowed faces dead and white; And the night-wind softly whispered, When low moans its light wing bore-~ Moans that ferried spirits over Death’s dark wave to yonder shore. (al oe “Help one another,’’ a grain of sand Said to another grain just at hand ; ‘*The wind may carry me over the sea, “ud then, oh, what will become of me? But come, my brother, give me your hand, We'll build a mountain and there we'll stand.’ BMS Sa et ee i ot Sat SORE~HOICE SELECTIONS OF PORTRY. “Help one another,” a penny sa.” To a fellow penny, round and red ; * Nobody cares for me alone, Nobody’ll care when I am gone, But we’ll stick together, and grow in time To a nickel, or even a silver dime.” “Help one another,’’ I hear the dimes Whisper beneath the Christmas chimes ; We're only little folks, but you know Little folks sometimes make a show, Ten of us, if we’re good and pure, Equal a big round dollar, sure.”’ And so the snow flakes grew to drifts, The grains of sand to mountains, The leaves became a pleasant shade, And dew drops fed the fountains ; The pennies grew to silver dimes, The dimes to dollars, brctter | 4nd children bring this Christmas gift By helping one another. GEORGE E. HUNTING. Tom Darling. OM Darling was a darling Tom, (Excuse all vulgar puns ;) A type of California’s bright Rising and setting suns. His father was an austere man—~ An oyster man was he, Who opened life by opening The shell fish of the sea; le a SK But hearing of a richer clime, He took his only son, And came where golden minds are Icsi, While goiden mines are won. They hoped to fill their pockets from ‘ Rich pockets in the ground ; And ’midst the boulders of the hills, None bolder could be found. For though a mining minor, Tom Was never known to shirk 5 And while with zeal he worked his claim, His father claimed his work. Time’s record on his brow now showed A fair and spotless page ; And, as his age became him well, He soon became of age. Thinking that he was up to all The California tricks, e now resolved to pick his way Without the aid af picks. ‘PR A ee 655 Tn less than eighteen circling moons Two fortunes he had made; One by good luck at trade in stock, And one by stock in trade. With health and wealth he now could five Upon the easy plan; While everybody said, of course, He was a fine young man. But Thomas fell, and sadly too, Who of his friends would ‘thought it He ran for oflice, and alas! For him and his—he caught it. Mixing no more with sober men, He found his morals fleeing 3 And being of a jovial turn; He turned a jovial being. With governor and constable His cash he freely spends ; From constable to governor, He bad a host of friends. But soon he found he could not take, As his old father would, A little spirits, just enough To do his spirits good. In councils with the patriots Upon affairs of State, Setting no bars to drinking, he Soon lost his upright gait. His brandy straightway made him wats In very crooked ways ; While lager beer brought to his view A bier and span of grays. The nips kept nipping at his purse— (Two bits for every dram), While clear champagne produced ir Sam A pain that was no sham. His cups of wine were followed by The doctor’s painful cup ; Each morning found him gettinglow As he was getting up. Thus uselessly, and feebly did His short existerce flit, Till in a drunken fight he fell Into a drunken fit. The doctors came, but here their ski They found of no avail ; They all agreed what ailed poor Tom Was politics and ale. L. F. WHLES Aasuiatea he roe | he oe aay A oe ‘ oe ok ae ae | Sal ie a x cn : a eI SR Rect ey EOP RRR SN ee a PE Ne a ee pePeale ee wb A : : : i i f GNM Sader Pa sir ak sa eae eee de ea oe ee em kt 656 CHOICE SELECTIONS OF POETRY. Love Lightens Labor. GOOD wife rose from her bed one morn, And thought with a nervous dread Of the piles of clothes to be washed, and more Than a dozen mouths to be fed. There’s the meals to get for the men in the field, And the children to fix away To school, and the milk to be skimmed and churned ; And all to be done this day. St had rained in the night, and all the wood Was wet as it could be; Vhere were puddings and pies to bake, besides A loaf of cake for tea. And the day was hot, and her aching head Throbbed wearily as she said, “If maidens but knew what good wives know, They would not be in haste to wed!”’ ‘sJennie, what do you think I told Ben Brownt Called the farmer from the well; And a flush crept up to his bronzed brov. And his eyes half bashfully fell; « It was this,’’ he said, and coming near He smiled, and stooping down, Kissed her cheek—‘‘ ’twas this, that you were the best And the dearest wife in town !”’ The farmer went back to the field and the wife In a smiling, absent way Sang snatches of tender little songs She’d nct sung for many a day. And the pain in her head was gone, and the clothes Were white as the foam of the sea ; Her bread was light, and her butter was sweet, And as golden as it could be. “Tust think,” the children all called in a breath, ‘¢ Tom Wood has run off to sea | _ He wouldn’t, I know, if he’d oniy had As happy a home as we.”’ The night came Gown, and the good wife smiled To herself, as she softly said : %* *Tis so sweet to labor for those we love,— ‘¢ It’s not strange that maids wi'l wed |” The Soft Guitar. SCENE: Moonlight. Beneath the lady’s window appeareth the tover, and singeth, with guitar accompaniment. LOVER. PEN thy lattice, O lady bright! © The earth lies calm in the fair moonlight ; Gaze on the glint of each glancing star, And list to the notes of my soft guitar. At the lady’s window a vision shone— Twas the lady’s head with a night-cap on. LOVER. (In ecstasy.) See! atthe casement appearing now, With lily fingers she hides her brow. Oh, weep not—though bitter thy sorrows are, I will soothe them to rest with my soft guitar. Then the lady answered, ‘‘ Who’s going to weepi Go ’way with your fiddle, and let me sleep,” LOVER. (Saddened, but still hopeful.) Then sleep, dear lady: thy fringed lids close, Pinions of che: ubim fan thy repose, While through thy casement, slightly ajar, Steal the sweet notes of my soft guitar. Then the lady her ‘‘ secret pain’? confessed With the plaintive murmur, ‘‘Oh, give us a est! LOVER. (Slightly discouraged.) Chiue we not harshly, O lady fair! Bend from thy lattice, and hear my prayer. Sighing for thee, I wander afar, Mournfully touching my soft guitar. And the lady answered: ‘‘ You stupid thing, If you’ve got the catarrh, stop trying to sing!” LOVER. (Filled with natural and righteous indignation. } Cruel but fair one, thy scorn restrain I Better death’s quiet than thy disdain. I go to fall in some distant war, Bearing in battle my loved guitar. Answered the lady: ‘‘ Well, hurry and gol I’m holding the slop-basin ready to throw.” LOVER. (Making immediate preparations to depart. False one, I leave thee! When I’m at rest Stillshall my memory haunt thy breast}; A spectral vision thy joy shall mar— A skeleton playing a soft guitar! And the lady cried, in a scornful tone, Old skeleton, go it—and play it wlons 4” Then the lover in agony roamed afar— Feil drunk in the gutter, and smashed his guitas. P. H. BOWNz.MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. ANCIENT SoD MODERN have vindicated humanity in every struggle. It is ELOQUENCE. a minority that have stood in the van of every Rete saureal of letters in: modem moral conflict, and achieved all that is noble in the Europe, Eloquence, together with her history of the world. You will find that each gen- sister muses, awoke and shook the | ration has been always busy in gathering up the poppies from her brow. But their scattered ashes of the martyred heroes of the past, torpors still tingled in her veins. In to deposit them in the golden urn of a nation’s his- the interval her voice was gone; her | *Y: Look at Scotland, where they are erecting favorite languages were extinct; her | Monuments ~ to whom ?—to the Covenanters. Ah, organs were no longer attuned to har- they were in aminority. Read their history, if you mony, and her hearers could no longer understand | ©*7) without the blood tingling to the tips of your her speech. The discordant jargon of feudal an- fingers. These were in the minority, that, through archy had banished the musical dialects, in which blood, and tears, and bootings and scorgings—dying she has always delighted. The theatres of her for- the waters with their blood, and staining the heather mer triumph were either deserted, or they were with their gore—fought the glorious battle of re- filled with the dabblers of sophistry and chicane. ligious freedom. She shrunk intuitively from the former, for the last Minority! if a man stands up for the right, object she remembered to have seen there was the though the right be on the scaffold, while the head of her darling Cicero planted upon the | Wong sits in the seat of government; if he stands rostrum. for the right, though he eat, with the right and She ascended the tribunals of justice; there she | truth, a wretched crust; if he walk with obloquy found her child, Persuasion, manacled and pinioned and scorn in the by-lanes and streets, while the by the letter of the law ; there she beheld an image falsehood and wrong ruffle it in silken attire, let of herself, stammering in barbarous Latin, and him remember that wherever the right and truth staggering under the lumber of a thousand volumes, | 4° there are always Her heart fainted within her. She lost all con- “Troops of beautiful, tall angels, ” fidence in herself. Together with all her irresistible powers, she lost proportionably the consideration of the world, until, instead of comprising the whole system of public education, she found herself excluded from the circle of science, and declared an outlaw from the realms of learning. She was not however doomed to eternal silence. With the progress of freedom and of liberal science, in various parts of modern Europe, she obtained | gathered round him, and God Himself stands with- in the dim future, and keeps watch over his own! If a man stands for the right and the truth, though eyery man’s fingers be pointed at him, though every woman's lip be curled at him in scorn, he stands in a majority ; for God and good angels are with him, and greater are they that are for him than all they that be against him. access to mingle in the deliberations of her parlia- | JOHN B. GOUGH. ments. With labor and difficulty she learned | their languages, and lent her aid in giving them WASHINGTON’S COUNTRY. a4 i c ) g > ag AVA recovere > - « ° : form and polish. But she has never rec rvered the Delivered at the centennial celebration of Washington’s graces of her former beauty, nor the energies of her inauguration, New York, April 30, 1899. . ee ie Kee i 5 iy, is et oe LOT out from the page of history the OHS SUES ee names of all the great actors of his 4 time in the drama of nations, and : WHAT IS A MINORITY? preserve the name of Washington, and a the century would be renowned. ae HAT isa minority? The chosen heroes We stand to-day upon the dividing line between a of this earth have been in a minority. | the first and second century of constitutional ee There is not a social, political, or re- | government. There are no clouds overhead and a ligious privilege that you enjoy to-day that was not | no convulsions under our feet. We reverently bought for you by the blood and tears and patient | return thanks to Almighty God for the past, and suffering of the minority. It is the minority that | with confident and hopeful promise march upo2 657 42 anhee “Oe ee Poe - Pe ie ne an md : ib : i g Pi RPL il 8 ure ground toward the future. The simple facts of these hundred years paralyze the imagination, and we contemplate the vast accumulations of the century with awe and pride. Our population has rown from four to ieee -five millions. Its centre, moving westward five hundred miles since 1789, is eloquent with the Pear of cities and the birth of States. New settlements clearing the forests : and subduing the prairies and adding four millions to une few thous: inds of farms which were the support of Washington’s republic, create one of the great granarics of the oe d and open exhaustless reser- voirs of national wealth. The flower of the youth of the nations of con- tinental Europe are ag dee from productive industries and drilling in camps. Vast armies stand in battle array foie the frontiers, and a Kaiser's whim or a minister’s mistake may pre- cipitate the most destructive war of ene times. Both monarchialand republican governments are seeking sa opposition and criticism, democratic aes and. Socialis tic rapidly incr easing and threaten peace an d security We turn from these gathering storms to the Bi itish Isles and find their people in the throes ofa political crisis involving the form and substance of their Bovernutent, and oo far from confident that the enfranchised j revolt are land unprepared masses will wisely use their power. But for us, no army exhausts our resources nor consumes our youth. Our navy must needs in- crease in order that the protecting flag may foilow the expanding commerce, which is to successfully compete in all the markets of the world. The sun of our destiny in still rising, and its rays illuminate vast territories as yet unoccupied and undeveloped, and which are to be th shappy homes of millions of people The questions w hich affect the powers of government and the expansion or limitation of the authority of the Federal Constitution are so com- pletely settled and so unanimously approved, that our political divisions produce only the healthy antagonism of parties whicl preservation of liberty. 1 is necessary for the Our institutions furnish the full equipment of shield and spear for the battles of freedom, and absolute protection against every danger which threatens the welfare of the people will always be found in the intelligence which appreciates ‘their value, and the courage and morality with which their powers are exercised. The spirit of Wash- ington fills the executive office. Presidents may not rise to the full measure of his greatness, but they must not fall below his standard of public duty and obligation. His life and character, con- scientiously studied and thoroughly understood by coming zenerations, will be for them a liberal | fety in the repression and sup SreseiOE of The voleanic forces of 658 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE education for pri ivate life and public station, for citizenship and patriotism, for love and devotion to Union and Liberty. With their inspiring past and splendid present the people of these United States. heirs of a hundred years marvelously rich in all which adds to the clory and greatness of a nation, with an abiding trust in the stability and elasticity of their Constitution and an abounding faith in themselves, hail the coming century with hope and joy. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW. CALIFORNIA AND PLYMOUTH ROCK. sy Et us vote upon the measures before us, be- cinning with the admission of California. Let us vote herin. Let us vote, after four lace month’s talk. The people who have cone there have done honor to the American name. Starting from a thousand points, and meeting as strangers iar removed from law and government, they have conducted themselves with the order, decorum, and justice, which would have done honor to the ol lest established and best r culated com- munity. They have carried our institutions to the furthest verge of the land—to the coast of the Pacific, and light up with the lights of religion, tiberty, and science, lights which will shine across the broad ocean, and illuminate the dark recesses of benighted Asia. They have completed the work of the Pilgrim Fathers. Would to God that those who landed on the Rock, and on the banks of the James river, more than two hundred years ago, and who crossed the stormy of civil and religious liberty, Atlantic in search and who did so much for both in their day and eeneration, could now see what has been done in our day! could look down from their celestial abodes, and see the spark which they struck from the flint now blazing with a light which fixes the gaze of the world see mustard seed which they planted, now towering to the skies, and spreading ‘ts branches from the Atlantic to the Pacific. With what rapture would they welcome the Pilgrims of C: Jifornis 1 into the fan rily circle, while we, their descendants, sit here in angry debate, repulsing our brethren, calculating the value of the Union, and threatening to rend it asunder if Cali- fornia is admitted. THOMAS H, BENTON. THE ULTIMA THULE. C HEN we engage in that solemn study, 6 the history of our race; surveying the progress of man, from his cradle in the east to these limits of his wanderings; when we be- hold him forever flying westward from civil and re- meas 5 thea, over mountains and seas, seeking and finding none, but still pursuing the flyingMASTERPIECES bow of promise to the glittering hills which it spans in Hesperian climes ; we cannot but exclaim, with Bishop Berkeley, the generous prelate, who bestowed his benefactions, as well as blessing our country— . s, on “Westward the course of empire takes its way ; The first four acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; Time’s noblest offspring is the last.” This exclamation is but the embodiment of a vision, which the ancients, from the earliest period, cherished of some favored land beyond the moun- tains and the seas ; a land of equal laws and happy men. The primitive poets placed it in the Islands of the Blest; the Doric bards dimly beheld it in the Hyperborean region; the mystical sage of the Academy found it in his lost Atlantis; and even the stern spirit of Seneca dreamed of the restora- tion of the golden age in distant worlds, hereafter to be discovered. Can we look back upon these uninspired predic- tions, and not feel the weight of obligations which they imply? Here must these bright fancies be turned into truth; here must these high visions be realized, in which the seers and sages of the elder world took refuge from the calamities of the days in which they lived. There are no more conti- nents to be revealed; Atlantis hath arisen from the ocean; the farthest thule is reached; there are no more retreats beyond the sea. no more discoveries, no more hopes. EDWARD EVERETT, EULOGIUM ON ANDREW JACKSON. O man in private life so possessed the hearts of all around him—no public man of this century ever returned to private life with such an abiding mastery over the affections of the people. No man with truer instinct received American ideas—no man expressed them so completely, or so boldly or so sincerely. He was as sincere a man as ever lived. He was wholly, always, and altogether sincere and true. Up to the last, he dared to do anything that it was right to do. He united personal courage and moral courage beyond any man of whom his- tory keeps the record. Before the nation, before the world, before coming ages, he stands forth the representative, for his generation, of the American mind. And the secret of his greatness is this: by intuitive conception, he shared and possessed all the creative ideas of his country and his time. He ex- pressed them with dauntless intrepidity; he en- forced them with an immovable will; he executed them with an electric power, that attracted and | { | | | | | j | awaved the American people, The nation, in his OF ELOQUENCE. 659 | time, had not one great thought, of which he was | not the boldest and clearest expositor. | History does not describe the man that equalled him in firmness of nerve. Not danger, not an army in battle array, not wounds, not wide-spread clamor, not age, not the anguish of disease, could impair, in the least degree, the vigor of his steadfast mind. The heroes of antiquity would have contemplated with awe the unmatched hardihood of his charac- ter; and Napoleon, had he possessed his disinter- ested will, could never have been vanquished. Andrew Jackson never was vanquished. He was always fortunate. He conquered the wilderness; he conquered the savage; he conquered the bravest veterans trained in the battle-fields of Europe; he conquered everywhere in statesmanship; and, when death came to get the mastery over him, he turned that last enemy aside as tranquilly as he had done the feeblest of his adversaries, and escaped from earth in the triumphant consciousness of im- mortality. His body has its fit resting-place in the great central valley of the Mississippi; his spirit rests upon our whole territory ; it hovers over the vaies of Oregon, and guards, in advance, the frontier of Del Norte. The fires of party spirit are quenched at his grave His faults and frailties have perished, Whatever of good he has done lives, and will live forever. GEORGE BANCROFT. INJUSTICE TOWARD KOSSUTH. HE Emperor of Russia demands of Turkey that the noble Kossuth and his companions shall be givenup. This demand is made in derision of the established law of the nations. Gentlemen, there is something on earth greater than arbitrary or despotic power. The lightning has its power, and the earthquake has its power. But there is something among men more capable. of shaking despotic power than lightning, whirl~ wind, or earthquake—that is, the threatened indig- nation of the whole civilzied world. et no one imagine that mere force can subdue the general sentiment of mankind. It is much more likely to extend that sentiment, and to de- stroy that power which he most desires to establish and secure. The bones of poor John Wickliffe were dug out of his grave seventy years after his death, and burnt, for his heresy, and his ashes were thrown upon a river in Warwickshire. Some prophet of that day said: “The Avon to the Severn runs, The Severn to the sea. And Wickliffe’s dust shall spread abroad. Wide as the waters be.”’ Gentlemen, if the blood of Kossuth is taken by an 3 4a i. “ 2) eae eae ara a 2 ene DREN IT are ee RO Se pA D BT660 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. absolute, unqualified, unjustifiable violation of | corroded. Death came, not unlooked for, though national law, what will it appease—w hat will it | it came even then unwelcome. He was stretched pacify? It will mingle with the earth—it will | on his bed within the fort which constituted his mix with the waters of the ocean—the whole civi- | prison. A few fast and faithful friends stood lized world will snuff it in the air, and it will re- around, with the guards who rejoiced that the hour turn with awful retribution on the heads of those | of relief from long and wearisome watching was at violators of national law and universal justice. I | hand. As his strength wasted away, delirium cannot say when, or in what form; but depend stirred up the brain from its long and inglorious upon it, that if such an act taken place, the thrones inactivity. ee a ee eee - eft and principalities and powers must look out for The pageant of ambition returned. He was again the consequences. a lieutenant, a general a consul, an emperor of DANIEL WEBSTER. France. He filled again the throne of Charlemagne. His kindred pressed around him, again invested DEATH OF NAPOLEON. with the pompous pageantry of royalty. The daughter of the long line of kings again stood proudly by his side, and the sunny face of his chile | shone out from beneath the diadem that encircled | its flowing locks. The marshals of Europe awaited | his command, The legions of the old guard were in the field, their scarred faces rejuvenated, and | their ranks, thinned in many battles, replenished. Russia, Prussia, Denmark and England gathered E was an emperor. But he saw around him a mother, brother and sisters, not ennobled; whose humble state reminded \ him and the world that he was born a plebeian ; and he had no heir to wait for the imperial crown. He scourged the earth again, and again fortune smiled on him even in his wild extravagance. He bestowed kingdoms and princi- palities upon his kindred—put away the devoted wife of his youthful days, and another, a daughter of Hapsburgh’s imperial house, joyfully accepted his proud alliance. Offspring gladdened his anxious sight; a diadem was placed on its infant brow, and it received the homage of princes, even in its cradle. Now he was indeed a monarch—a legitimate mon- arch—a monarch by divine appointment—the first of an endless succession of monarchs. But there | were other monarchs who held sway in the earth, He was not content, he would reign with his kindred | HAVE seen the sea lashed into fury and alone. He gathered new and greater armies, from tossed into spray, and its grandeur moves ee ee i their mighty hosts to give him battle. Once more he mounted his impatient charger, and rushed forth | to conquest. He waved his sword aloft and cried | “TpTE D’ ARMEE.” The feverish vision broke— the mockery was ended. The silver cord was | loosened, and the warrior fell back upon his bed a | lifeless corpse. This was the end of the earth. | ORS EE EO The Corsican was now content. WILLIAM H,. SEWARD. THE SOURCE OF PARTY WISDOM. his own land—from subjugated lands. He called the soul of the dullest man; but I remem- forth the young and brave—one from every house- ber that it is not the billows, but the calm hold—from Pyrenees to the Zuyder-Zee—from | level of the sea, from which all heights and depths Jura to the ocean. He marshalled them into long | are measured. When the storm has passed and and majestic columns, and went forth to seize that | the hour of calm settles on the ocean, when the universal dominion, which seemed almost within | sunlight bathes its smooth surface, then the astron- his grasp. But ambition had tempted forture too | omer and .surveyor take the level from which to far. The nations of the earth resisted, repelled, | measure all terrestrial heights and depths. pursued, surrounded him. The pageant was Gentlemen of the convention, your present tem- ended. per may not mark the healthful pulse of our people The crown fell from his presumptuous head. | when our enthusiasm has passed. When the The wife who had wedded him in his pride for- emotions of this hour have subsided we shall find sook him when the hour of fear came upon him. | that calm level of public opinion below the storm Wis child was ravished from his sight. His kins- | from which the thoughts of a mighty people are to men were degraded to their first estate, and he was | be measured, and by which their final action will no longer emperor, nor consul, nor general, nor | be determined. Not herein this brilliant circle even a Citizen, but an exile and a prisoner, on a | where fifteen thousand men and women are aB- lonely island, in the midst of the wild Atlantic. | sembled, is the destiny of the Republican party to Discontent attended him here. The wayward | be declared. Not here, where I see the faces of man fretted outa few long years ofhis yetunbroken | seven hundred and fifty-six delegates waiting to manhood, looking off at the earliest dawn and in | cast their votesin the urn and determine the Shigios evening’s latest twilight, toward thatdistant world | of the republic, but by four million Republican that had only just eluded his grasp. His heart firesides, where the thoughtful voters, with wives | : Se A ko Pde EARN RE NOR LV PNR HS ln PSTD OD wins ieee OtelMASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE, 661 and children about them, with the calm thoughts inspired by the love of home and country, with the history of tbe past, the hopes of the future, and a knowledge of the great men who have adorned and blessed our nation in days gone by—there God pre- pares the verdict that shall determine the wisdom of our work to-night. Notin Chicago, in the heats of June, but in the sober quiet that comes to them between now and November; in the silence of deliberate judgment will the great question be settled. JAMES A. GARFIELD IMPROVEMENT OF THE WEST. LL that we ask is to be equal with the other States of this Confederacy in freedom, sovereignty, and independence. Grant us only this, and you will see this whole country, like the giant that gathered strength in his wrestle with Hercules, every time he touched the earth, spring up with an elastic bound to new vigor and power, and the proud galaxy that adorns your stars and stripes shine forth witb a rich splendor which nothing but regenerated liberty can give. Enable us to make our roads and canals, to carry on our works of internal improvement, to manage our own internal police, as our genius and necessities may require, and you will soon witness the wonderful change which the uncontrolled and plastic power of self-government can alone accom- plish ; the waste lands speedily sold and settled, the desert made to smile and blossom as a garden, the country improved and cultivated to its utmost limits, industry stimulated, labor rewarded with rich returns, the people prosperous and happy, and the country rich with every blessing. What a guarantee to the perpetuity and stability of the government, living in the hearts of its own people, and borrowing its own lustre and glory from their proud, prosperous, and independent condition. And, permit me to tell you, that deep and firm as may be the foundations of our country, still deeper will they be made by the policy which is before you. Let me beseech you to cast aside your prejudices, co throw off from your eyes the scales which have so long blinded you, and to come up to this mighty and momentous question with nothing but the holy impulse of patriotism directing your heart; and you will see inscribed upon our banners Truth and Justice, as all for which we would appeal to you, or ask at your hands. Our strength will be yours. The glory that may surround us will radiate its effulgence to every por- tion of our common country, and the same des- tiny that awaits us and our children will be indis- solubly connected with your own; and should any great event in the changes of life and the vicissi- tudes of the affairs of rations ever take place, to pull up the deep foundations of our government, and tear down our noble edifice, let me tell you that in the general wreck of the liberties of the country, the last spark will be found flickering on the plains of the West in the domiciles of the humble tillers of the earth. A. G. HARRISON. TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. ASTING our eyes over the history of nations, with horror we discern the suc- E cession of murderous slaughters, by which their progress has been marked, Even as the hunter traces the wild beast, when pursued to his lair, by the drops of blood on the earth, so we follow man, weary, staggering with wounds, through the black forest of the past, which he has reddened with his gore. O, let it not be in the future ages, as in those which we now contem- plate! Let the grandeur of men be discerned, not in bloody victories, or in ravenous conquests, but in the blessings which he has secured; in the good he has accomplished; in the triamphs of benevol- ence and justice ; in the establishment of perpetual peace. As the ocean washes every shore, and, with all embracing arms, clasps every land, while, on its heaving bosom, it bears the products of various climes; so peace surrounds, protects, and upholds all other blessings. Without it, commerce is vain, the ardor of industry is restrained, justi22 is arrested, happiness is blasted, virtue sickens and dies. And peace has its own peculiar victories, in eor- parison with which Marathon and Bannockburn and Bunker Hill, fields held sacred in the history of human freedom, shall lose their lustre. Our own Washington rises to a truly heavenly stature—not when we follow him over the ice of the Delaware to the capture of Trenton—not when we bella him victorious over Cornwallis at Yorktown—»uv when we regard him in noble deference to justize, refusing the kingly crown which a faithless soldiery proffered, and, at a later day, upholding the peace- ful neutrality of the country, while he received unmoved the clamor of the people wickedly crying for war. CHARLES SUMNER. VICISSITUDE OF 1849. HIS fatal year, ’49—will it never have done with its desolation? Pestilence has stalked, g_ and still stalks, with desolating tread over the broad earth, defacing its green sod to make room for innumerable graves—graves not alone of the weak and the wretched, but also of the mighty, the glorious, the gentle, the lovely, the widely and keenly deplored. And that darker scourge, des- | A a | ie ; p a) y 2d oenetea* BO eee St eee Wes 1 : f f i CPE PLONE he tA TESA Sie es cat tae Stal Soc Sits: He Sieben iy Ott oo potism, the dominion of brute force and blind selfishness—the lordship of the few for their own luxury and aggrandizement over the many whom they scorn, and sweat, and ae hes before has eae yeen so fruitful as now, of triumphs to the realm of night? Sicily betra ryed and ruined— iembardy’e chains rive eted—Sardinia crushed— ha Rome, generous, brave, ill-1 ated Rome, too !—sh¢ lies beneath the feet of her perfidious, perjured foes, and in her fall has dr ageed down the repub- licans of France, a djudge d guilty of the crime of daring to resis the assassination of asister republic. But this is not all, nor half. Germany, through her vast extent, has passed over to the ¢ eects her people still think, but dare not eel for the bayonet is at their throats, and dem- cracy is once more treason, since its em enemies have recovered from their terror, and found their military tools as brainless and as heartless as ever. At last Hungary mounts the funeral pyre of free- dom and the sacrifice is comple te, for Venice must trail her flag directly on the tidings of Gorgey’s victory. She has stood out no ole? far a noble, a priceless cause— so has Hungary st and nobly fallen. that a few desperate, heroic } their lives in fruitless casual minions of despotism Nothing now remains but that the wolves should divide and devour their prey. camp of 7 t tT } 4 cl “y 2 7 For the present, all is over, Save yatriots will yet s \] con flicts with the HORACE GREELEY. NO EXTENSION OF FREEDOM BY FORCE. (ory IR, our institutions are telling their own Cie story by the blessings they impart to //% wusandin doctrinating the people every- ose,’ where with the principles of freedom upon which they are founded. Ancient prejudices are yielding to their mighty influence. Heretofore revered, and aaron rovernment, are falling beneath 1 mother, free as she has ever comparatively been, is getting to be freer. It has blotted out th ru ptions of her her reli Sea plecanns It has greatly elevated the individual character of her subjects It has immeasurably weakened the power of her nobles Smear systems of Our glorious political franchise. It has broken 1 and by weakening in one sense has vastly streng ened the authority of her crown, by forcing it to rest for all its power and glory upon the breasts of its people. To Ireland to—impulsive Ireland—the land of eenius, of eloquence, and of valor, it is rapidly carrying the blessings of a restored free dom and happiness. In France, all of political liberty which belongs to her, is to be traced to it; and even now it is to be seen ch ecring, animating and } } of Ty a. maWAGN< + rlacaie lan / r : = FUICINE the classic lana o Italy. makings the very us WH - ie ERPIECES OF ELOQUENC strects of Rome itself to ring with shouts of joy and gratitude for its presence. Sir, such a spirit suffers no inactivity, and needs no incentive. Jt admits of neither enlargement nor restraint. Upon ‘+s own elastic and never-tiring wing, it is now soaring over the civilized world, everywhere leaving magic and abiding charm. I say, then, try not. eek not to aid it. Bring no physical force to succor it. Such an adjunct would serve e only te corrupt and paralyze its efforts. Leave it to itself, and, sooner or later, man will be free. REVERDY JOHNSON. INVIDIOUS DISTINCTIONS. ou TR asa Southern man, I re present € equally y (e) | Nee? rent, capital, and wages, which are pf ZY confounded in our estates ; and I pro- —~” test against attempts to array, W ithout cause, without a color of pretext or plausibility, the different classes of society against each other, as if. in such a country as this, there could be any natural hostility or any real distinction between them—a country in which all the rich, with hardly an exception, have been poor, and all the poor may one ‘d: ay be rich—a country in which banking ‘nstitutions have been of immense service, pre- cisely because they have been most neet ded by ¢ people who had all their fortunes to make by eood character and industrious habits. Look at that remarkable picture—remarkable not as a work of art, but asa monument of history —which you see in passing through the rotunda. Two out of five of that immortal committee were mechanics, andsuch men! In the name of God, sir, why should any one study to pervert the natural good sense and kindly feelings of this moral and noble people—to infuse into their minds a sullen envy towards one another, instead of that generous emulation which everything in their situation is fit oo to inspire—to breathe into them the spirit of Cain, muttering deep curses and meditating desperate revenge against his brother, because the smoke of his sacrifice has ascended And do not they who treat our industrious classes as if they ed and wretched condition insult them by the com- to heaven before Ins own! were in the same deba as the poor of Europe, parison? Why, sir, you do not know what poverty is. We have no poor in this country, in the sense in which that word is used abroad. Every laborer, even the most humble, in the United States soon capitalist, and even, if he choose, a proprietor of land; for the West, with all its boundless fertility, is open to him. How can any one dare to compare the mechanics of this land (whose inferiority, in any substantial particular, in intelligence, in virture, in wealth, to the other becomes aMASTERPIECE classes of our society, I have yet to learn) with that race of outcasts, of which so terrific apicture | is presented by recent writers—the poor of Europe? a race, among no inconsiderable portion of whom famine and pestilence may be said to dwell con- tinually; many of whom are without morals, without education, without a country, without a God! and may be said to know society only } by the terrors of its pe nal code, and to live in perp vetual war with it. Poor bondmen! mocked with the name of liberty, that they may be sometimes tempted to break their chains, in order that, after a few days of starvation in idl ness and dissipa- tion, they may be driven back to their prison house to take them up again, heavier and more galling than before; severed, as it has been touch- ingly ‘expressed, from nature, from the common air, and the light of the sev knowing only by hearsay that the fields are green, that the birds sing, and that there is a perfume in flowers. And is it with a race whom the perverse institutions of Europe have thus degraded beneath the condition of humanity, that the advocates, the patrons, the Pie. e our ee, pre sume to com- are them? Sir, itis to treat them with a scorn at which their spirit should revolt, and does revolt. HUGH 8. LEGARE. THE ‘‘MAYFLOWER.”’ CTHINKS, I see it now, that one soli- the “ May- flower” of a forlorn hope, freighted Z _ with the prospects of a future state, and bound across the unknownsea. Ibehold it pursuing, with a paeueane PRIVEE the unce tain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks and months pass, a winter surprises the: on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the wished-for shore. I see them now, scantily sup- plied with provisions, crowded almost to sufioca- tion in their ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route; and now, driven in fury before the raging tempest, in their scarcely t seaworthy vessel. The awful voice of the storm tary adventurous vessel, r howls through the rigging. The laboring masts seem straining from their base; the dismal sound of pumps is heard; the ship leaps, as it were, madly from billow to billow; the ocean breaks, and settles with ingulfing floods over the floating deck, and beats with deadening weight against the staggering vessel. I see them escape from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and landed at : assage on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, weak and exhausted from the voyage, poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depend- ing on the charity of their ship-master for a draught of beer on board, drinking nothing but a : last, after a five months’ ] S OF ELOQUENCE. 665 | water on shore, without shelter, without means | surrounded by hostile tribes. | S Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any | ee iple of human probability, what shall be the fate of this handful of adventurers? Tell me, men of pin science, in how many months they vere all swept off by the thirty savage tribes enu- merated within the boundaries of New England? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of a | colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant coast? Student of history compare for me the baffled projects, the de serted settlements, the abandoned adventures of other times, and find the parallel of this! Was it the winter storm, beating upon the .ouseless heads of women and children? was it 1ard labor and spare meals? was it disease? was | it the tomahaw k? was it the deep malady of a | blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken heart, aching in its last moments at the recollec. tions of the loved and left, beyond the sea? was it some or all of them united that hurried this for- saken company to their melancholy fate? And is it possible, that neither of these causes, that all com bined, ' were able to blast this bud of hope’ Is | it possible, that from a beginning so feeble, so frail, | so worthy, not so much of admiration as of pity, | there has gone fon 1 a progress so steady, a growth | so wonderful, a reality so important, a promise yet to be fulfilled so glorious? 1 j 4 } I GENOA IN HER BEAUTY. Te ET me bring to your mind Genoa, called the ( 2 | EDWARD EVERET | | Superb City of Palaces, dear to the mem- Bl : 5 3 PL ory of American childhood as the birth- 5 eo ‘1 s ~ ~ ~ umes” place of Christopher Columbus, and one of the spots first enlightened by the morning beams of civilization, whose merchants were princes, and whose rich argosies, in those- early days, introduced to Europe the choicest products of the East, the linen of Egypt, the spices of Arabia, and the silks of Samarcand. She still sits in quee nly pride, as she sat then—her mural crown studded with towers—her churches rich with mar- ble floors and rarest pictures—her palaces of ancient doges and admirals yet spared by the hand of time——her close streets thronged by one hundred thousand inhabitants—at the foot aa the maritime Alps, as they descend to the blue and ticeless waters of the Mediterranean Sea—leaning with her back against their strong mountain-sides, over- shadowed by the foliage of the fig-tree and the olive, while the orange “and lemon “fill with their pe rfume the air where reigns perpetual spring. Who can contemplate such a city without delight? CHARLES SUMNER.ne | : ; { { f SN ks ES Sate ee ee i sot Ses th PROG 664 MASTERPIECES EULOGIUM ON SOUTH CAROLINA. The reader will feel a special interest in this and the fol- lowing selection from the famous debate between Hayne and Webster. Perhaps no such intellectual gladiators ever met before or since on the floor of the United States Senate. CALL upon any one who hears me, to bear witness that this controversy is not of my seeking. ‘The Senate will do me the justice to remember, that at the time this unpro- yoked and uncalled-for attack was made upon the South, not one word had been uttered by me in disparagement of New England, nor had I made the most distant allusion either to the Senator from Massachusetts, or the State he represents. But, sir, that gentleman has thought proper, for reasons best known to himself, to strike the South, through one, the most unworthy of her servants. He has crossed the border, he has invaded the State of South Carolina, is making war upon her citizens, and endeavoring to overthrow her princi- ples and her institutions. Sir, when the gentle- man provokes me to such a conflict, I meet him at the threshold, I will struggle while I have life, for our altars and our firesides ; and if God give me strength, will drive back the invader discomfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman provoke war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at the border ; I will carry the war into the enemies’ ter- ritory and not consent to lay down my arms, until I shall have obtained “indemnity for the past, and security for the future.” It is with unfeigned reluctance that J enter upon the performance of this part of my duty—I shrink almost instinctively from a course, however neces- sary, which may have a tendency to excite sec- tional feelings and sectional jealousies. But, sir, the task has been forced upon me, and I proceed right onward to a performance of my duty. Be the consequences what they may, the responsibility necessity. The Senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to cast the first stone, and if he shall find, according to the homely adage, that “he lives in a glass house’”—on his head be the consequences. The gentleman has made a great flourish about his fidelity to Massachusetts. I shall make no professions of zeal, for the interests and honor of South Carolina—of that my constituents shall judge. If there be one State in the Union (and Isay it not in any boastful spirit), that may challenge comparison with any other fora uniform, zealous, ardent and uncalculating devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina. Sir, from the very commencement of the Revolution up to this hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheerfully made; no service she has ever hesi- tated to perform. She has adhered to youin your prosperity, but in your adversity she has clung to OF ELOQUENCE, you with more than filial affection. No matter ‘vhat was the condition of her domestic affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided by par- ties, or surrounded by difficulties, the call of the country has been to her as the voice of God. Do- mestic discord has ceased at the sound—every man became at once reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were all seen crowding together to the temple, bringing their gifts fo the altar of their common country. What, sir, was the conduct of the South during the Revolution? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct in that glorious struggle: but great as is the praise which belongs to her, I think at least equal honor is due to the South. They espoused the cause of their brethren with generous zeal which did not suffer them to stop to calculate their interest in the dispute. Favorites of the mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to create commercial rivalship; they might have found in their situation a guaranty that their trade would be forever fostered and protected by Great Britain. But trampling on all considerations, either of interest or of safety, they rushed into the conflict, and fighting for principle, periled all in the sacred cause of freedom. Never was there ex- hibited in the history of the world higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic en- durance, than by the Whigs of Carolina during that revolution. The whole State, from the moun- tain to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits of industry per- ished on the spot where they were produced, or were consumed by the foe. The “ plains of Caro- lina” drank up the most precious blood of her citizens—black and smoking ruins marked the places which had been the habitations of her chil- | dren! Driven from their homes into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there the : : : > | enirit of liberty survived, : Soy Weanling ‘anae ig with those who have imposed upon me this | spirit of liberty survived, and South Carolina, sus tained by the example of her Sumters and her Marions, proved by her conduct, that though her | soil might be overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. ROBERT Y. HAYNE. SOUTH CAROLINA AND MASSA- CHUSETTS. = HE eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of South Carolina by the C honorable gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence, I shall not acknowledge that the honorable mem- ber goes before me in regard for whatever of dis- tinguished talent, or distinguished character, | South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the | honor; I partake in the pride of her great names,MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 663 [claim them for countrymen, one and all. The Laurenses, Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumters, the Marions—Americans all—whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being cir- cumscribed within the same narrow limits, In their day and generation, they served and honored the country, and the whole country, and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. Him whose honored name the gentle- man bears himsel{—does he suppose me less capa- ble of gratitude for his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light in Massachusetts instead of South Carolina? Sir, does he suppose it in his power to exhibit a Carolina name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom? No, sir—increased gratifica- tion and delight, rather. Sir, I thank God, that if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is said to be able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit which would drag angels down. When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it happened to spring up beyond the limits of my own State and neighborhood; when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated patriot- ism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; orif Isee an uncommon endowment of heayen— if I see extraordinary capacity and virtue in any son of the South—and if, moved by local prejudice or gangrened by State jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth! I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachu- setts—she needs none. There she is—behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history— the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lex- ington, and Bunker’s Hill; and there they will re- main forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it—if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it; if folly and madness, if uneasiness, under salutary and necessary restraint shall succeed to separate it from that Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it will stand in the end, by the side of the cradle in which its in- fancy was rocked; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, on the friends who gather around it; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin. DANIEL WEBSTER. EFFECT OF STEADINESS OF PURSUIT. HE most interesting instance of the efficacy of this steadiness of pursuit was given by the city of Athens; the most interesting. because the object was mostso. From the earliest times, Athens aspired to literature and the elegant arts. By a steady pursuit of the policy adopted with a view to this end, the city of Athens became such a monument of the arts, that even her imperfect and dilapidated remains are at this day the wonder of the world. What splendors, then, must she have emitted in the day of her splendor! When, in her freshness, she met the morning sun, and reflected back a rival glory! When she was full of the masterpieces of genius in every art— creations, that were said to have exalted in the human mind the ideas of the divinities themselves | The fervent eloquence of Demosthenes failed, un- equal to the task, to do justice to those immortal splendors, when employed, as it occasionally was, for that purpose, in his addresses to the Athenian people. It was by the steady pursuit of the same policy, that their literary works of every kind came to be equally the masterpieces of human genius; and being more diffused, and less impaired by the injuries of time, than the other monuments of the arts, they were, and still are, the wonder of the world, that, affer it, the Athenians themselves could never surpass them ; whilst others have never been able to equal them. Now, what has been the ef 2ct? Literature and arts have gathered around that city a charm that was, and is, felt by all mankind; which no dis- tance, no time, can dispel. No scholar, of any age or clime, but has made (in fancy at least) a pil- erimage to its shore; there to call around him the shades of the mighty dead, whose minds still live, and delight and astonish in their immortal works. It is emphatically the city of the heart, where the affections delight to dwell; the green spot of the earth where the fancy loves to linger. How poor is brute force—even the most magnificent, even the Roman—compared to the empire of mind, to which all other minds pay their voluntary homage! Her literature and her arts acquired to Athens this empire, which her remains still preserve, and al- ways will preserve. In contemplating the pheno- menon of her literary achievements, a great and profound writer could not forbear saying, “ that it seemed a providential event, in honor of human nature, to show to what perfection the species ASMA GE fs as a 4 | F ea a ee | ‘ a : Kd RN eee ee666 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE ieerfully, “all’s well.” They had only te cros De midds Cee en masse to the British side, to ‘exch ange a lodging might ascend.” Call i on the ground, in their cotton that t admitted the -—as every event is, 1 but it was the effect of artif ficial causes, as much so it providential if you please | | 1 } 114 > ant ti Roms: ie ee as the raid rilitary power of the Romans; 1b was the | @"’, | } | some sense, ee 1 as the } and, when the rain was over, froze upon their QP UV La ae. i] —— tect of a policy, early adopted, and always aiter bodies, for warm clothing and good qu rters Had selfishness been the ruling principle, where would eae eff er ee Aly y pursued. ASHER ROBBINS. have been your militia? Where would have been | wour reoulars?—at their own homes, or over the i @ 5 INDEMNITY TO THE NIAGARA | peta tines’ SUFFERERS. JOSEPH VANCE. oT Siisnan thatin Butalo. | ST me say to the aa in, thatin Bufialo, | ; 1 £ ' : | RMEMBR ICE OF WRONG aa might, on one a , have found af family REMEMBRANCE OF WRONGS., | : oe | ; well he used, well es ‘thed, surrounded with L rr ee = commas = CVETY © omfort of life, who, from its | \\CA// E are above all this. Let the highland mnsman, half oe d, half civilized, ? hospitality in th acne open ae to the Amer \s la , ha. | d pane K be half blinded by the peat smoke of his ha cavern, he .ve his hereditary enemy and his heredi- cs ca Ne » | gut ee ieee ee ican soldier, was the next day houseless an | ‘ a a3. 4 } less, destitute of all things; UW he ha d chanced, | « C . a 9 | f * 2 1 = — es ; 4 o he eight months atterw: ie , to pe wandering on the | tary enmity, an id keep the keen, dee p, anu poison- bb LU 3 ix : ' w 4 is ; eer C? he oht t there see a family coy- | ous saat sdb an fire ol hell, alive 1i he can; let 2 ° . | i ¥ 7* c = . in squ alid pov erty, one | the North Ame rican indian have his, and han 13 1t rue, and the next consumed } down trom fat ] - L- . ot her to son, by heaven knows what is compassion should lead | symbols of rattlesnakes, and war- he | clubs smeared with vermillion and entwined with 1 for doing it, he would not, he could not, deny that | settled. I thought two wars nas Bere d it al something ought to be done for their relief. | What else was so The gentleman has insinuated, that the inhabi- | m: tants of the frontier are actuated wholly by a| glory? For what was so net oo blood morse 1 . 1 rah wae that 7 rl : ‘ } 4 an, eo ee le of sel fis shness ; that, uniess stimulated by lately sned at RE g 4 b= 1 ane, at Fort Erie, before Yrleans, on the deck a sense of interest, they will do notihng in their | and behind the lines at New ’ — A him to enter and Inquire ito their situation, he | cil | ss would hear them say, our father lived in plenty | scarlet: let such a country as Poland, cloven te ' ao, aaa > . - . } 1 } 4 ae San Ina coat on the Niagara trontier—nhe saw the | the earth, the armed heel on the radiant forehead, iatl ay < } 1 oe ; ° << } ie . 1 . . 3 : - : : to 1 ; x me ric an soldiery ready LO perish—he opened nis | her body de ad, ner soul 1n¢ apable LO die, let ner bd ; : + } 1 7 } . e. , 27 ‘.’ y* r r J »wwq ' ry Q 2? : ‘ door to take them in—and for that we are here, remember the wrongs of days long past, let the : ruined and in wretchedness. Sir, tne sufferings ol lost and wandering tribes ¢ f Israel remember theirs the French, on their retreat from Moscow, present | - the manliness or sympathy of the worla may 4 iS te gs eee gw Spat idoa of |-allow.or pardon ‘tiie 10 them 4 Ge ena re not too strong a picture LO convey & just idea ol Allow Ol part on this to them ; but snail America, + 7 +} j 1 | . eae ] See . ‘ narnt) ; ing 5 ; what was endured while the whole country on the young, Iree, prosperous, just setting out on the 7 ’ { ; } . A 4 | ’ . xr re } r , ¢ -} ratty] p< rhe “} i Lakes was converted into one wide cantonment, | highway of heaven, “ aecorating and cheering the . . . ' + 7 . i , . . i Had the gentleman seen an American regiment on | elevated 8] here she just begins to move 1n, gitter: 4 that frontier drawn up on a frosty morning, and inn like the morning star, full of life and joy,” : toab il 1t1e!1 t t . . z ro) , J? . ‘7 . 2< . iy } } } ‘ 15 -aY ope . supporting arms while their limbs were chilled | shall she be supposed to be polluting and corroding tho hone. standing, in their cotton dress, In Snow | her noble and happy heart, by moping over old Oo tne DOone, dlc : ; | Pie ; . f D> . J 1 +. 4 : | toss os . Bee 4 oe a 7 4} : ; two : and tl three feet aeep ; had he seen these ¢ lalm- stories of stamp act, ana tea act, and Lne fii ing of | | s _— e 7 ° 1 - oe : ~ © | ? 7 . . ; ants opening v! e1r pnouses to recelyve men 1n 1mMe | the Leopard upon tne . DES: ipeake In a time of a , + oe 1 - ee ‘ T “a4 ye ; . 4 aiate dan 1ge ror perisnoing Gnany oi tnem did per- peace ? No, Sirs No, Sills & thousand times no! j ish), a3 id after wards turned out of house and home Woy, I provest, 4 thought all that had ie t 7 4 mn mot; . Ww }] rende 1} h nNronerty | Piha (io) pace. } y tha ele f ha iF ré 6 4 own daeience, and vill surl nd r up cneir property | of the Constitution, on tne dec kK OL the Jaya, ON : li, EASY pry to the enemy. But, sir, that gentle- | the lakes, on the sea, but’ to settle exactly these 12 Sol oc { 7 oO } ce ‘ P wea OO V2 ] i man surely did not consider the feelings of the | “wrongs of past days? And have we come back a ee vance d suc ch & senti- American people when he a sulky and sullen from the very field of honor? + | i ment, If nothing had oper ted on their minds but | For my country I deny it. Weare born to hap. Ca selfishness, the army of the frontier ald not have | pier feelings. We look on England as we look on 3 - rT a ; . 17 4 os ee ie. a ; ; been kept together a single day. No, sir, not a | France. We look on them, trom our new world, } Eline he eeote a single day. There were our soldiers, lying naked | not unrenowned, yet a new world still; and the ‘i ; and perishing on one bank of the Niagara river, | blood mounts to our che ks; our eyes swim; our y : 1 | sentry parading backward and forward in a rood glory; their trophies will not let us sleep; but | | vhile, directly opposite, they could see the British | voices are stifled with emulousness of so much ' comfortable watchcoat, and hear him cry out, LoOnor, [an “Or ell’. Rs there is ne hatred at all; no hatred; all for CO Shes EIMASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 66% nothing for hate! We have—we can have—no barbarian memory of wrongs, for which brave men have made the last expiation to the brave. volley in their very faces. Another and another followed till one broad sheet of flame rolled on their bosoms, and in such a fierce and unexpected RUFUS CHOATE. flow, that human courage could not withstand it, They reeled, shook, staggered back, them turned THE LAST CHARGE OF NEY, and fled. Ney was borne back in the refluent tide, and hurried over the field. But for the crowd of HE whole continental s truggle exhibited no | fugitives that forced him on, he would have stood sublimer spectacle than this last effort of | lone, and fullen in his footsteps. As it was, dis- Napoleon to save his sinking empire. daining to fly, though the whole army was fiying, Europe had been put-upon the plains of Waterloo he formed his men into two immense squares, and to be battled for. The greatest military energy | endeavored to stem the terrific current, and would and skill the world possessed had been tasked to | have done so, had it not been for the thirty thou- the utmost during five day. Thrones were totter- | Sand fresh Prussians that pressed on his exhausted ing on the ensanguined field, and the shadows of | '2ks. Fora long time these squares stood and fusitive kings flitted through the smoke of battle | let the artillery plough through them, Bonaparte’s star trembled in the zenith—now But the fate of Napoleon was writ, and though blazing out inits ancient splendor, now suddenly | Ney doubtless did what no other man in the army paling before his anxious eye. At length, when could have done, the decree could not be reversed. < oD : an ~ * © ya py VS, 4 a a . ‘ os <2 _ the Prussians appeared on the field, he resolved to | The star that had blazed so brightly over the stake Europe on one bold throw. He committed | World went down in blood, and the bravest of the himself and France to Ney, and saw his Empire brave’ had fought his last battle, It was worthy » < c + J» >< . sh dd rest on a single chance. of his great name, and the charge of the Old Guard ‘ ane ; o > . a ° Or 6 7 } Ney felt the pressure of ee immense, responsi- at W aterloo, with him at theit head, will be bility on his brave heart, and resolved not to prove | pointed to by remotest generations with a shudder. unworthy of the great trust com natal to his care, | J. T, HEADLEY. Nothing could be more imposi ng than the move- ment of that grand column to the assault. 7 hat guard had never yet recoiled before a human foe, 6 and the allied forces beheld with awe its firm and | ©} HE spirit of popular freedom in Europe, terrible advance to the final charge. For a moment | 4 & during the late struggle of Hungary, asked the batteries stopped playing, and the firing ceased ES us asolemn question. The Executive was along the British lines, as without the beating of a | called upon to say yea or nay. Hungary listened drum, or the blast of a bugle, to cheer their steady | with anxious hope. She was impatient for the courage. they moved in dead silence over the plain. | response, and the eloquence of truth, of a righteous The next moment the artillery opened, and the | cause, burst forth in every word she uttered. But it head of that gallant column seemed to eae into | has been all in vain, and now, in tones of eloquent the earth. Rank after rank went down, yet they | and burning reproof, she thus turns to her Russian neither stopped nor faltered. Dissolving squadrons, invader. and whole battalions disappearing one after You seek to encompass the earth with your am- another in the destructive fire, affected not their | bition. The world exclaims aga inst you, and re- steady Bee The ranks closed up as before, | proachfully calls you sovereign of a barbarian and each treading over his fallen comrade, press ed | horde. Asia spea ks out: Your neighborhood has firmly on. The horse that Ney rode fell under | only served to bring upon my borders bloody and him, ‘and he had scarcely mounted another before protracted wars. Says Persia: For a century you it a Iso sunk to the earth. Again and again did that have desolated d my remote frontiers and provinces, unflinching man feel his steed 6 sink down, till five | with the horrors of a cruel warfare. Circassia had been shot under him. asks: When will you cease to massacre my people ‘Then, with his uniform riddled with bullets, and | and grant me that liberty and independence which his face singed and blackened with powder, he | my victorious arms deserve? England reproves. INVECTIVE OF HUNGARY. P narched on foot with drawn sabre, at the head of i see you in the swilt- coming future advancing to his men. In vain did the artillery hurl its storm e banks of the Indus, and about to bring war of fire and lead into that living mass. Up to the = jon my dominions in the East. Turkey adds : very muzzles they pressed and driv ing the artille ry- | You have converted my cities imto forts, and for men from their own pieces, pushed on through the centuries obliged me to W atch your threatened de- English lines. But at that moment a file of | scent upon my fair capital. France sends her * SS ee nee =) 4 Pa ee 4 i | Seater | eres | e : ri soldiers who had lain flat on the ground, behind 2 | legions to Italy, as she sees her influence about to 8 c r > low ridge of earth, suddenly rose and poured a | be felt upon the banks of the Tiber. Poland yet ve— ee ite aon wee Oe hot Sis IEORE NMOS Ne Ld SEA ven ore ote | ' 4 i f ; i : PSs a a 668 MASTERPIECES cries Lencath her fetters ; When will you unbar the prisoner’s-door? Europe chides: Upon the par- tition of Poland you claimed the lion’s share, and claimed it too at the peace of Vienna. And now, you offer Siberia in exchange for fair Hurgary. Yet, I was at peace with you. I sought freedom from Austrian tyranny, and you inter- fered to crown my misfortunes with your crueltics. You warred against my national existence. You drove my once happy people to flee for refuge to the mountains; to abandon their hearths ; to for- sake their altars; to poison their waters, lest they might quench your thirst ; to destroy their bread, lest they might feed you; to fire their own dwel- lings, lest they might shelter you. The work of destruction, which they had not time to complete, you finished. You wantonly desolated their wheat- fields; you tortured their patriot clergy, and in- flicted even upon female patriotism your proverbial cruelties. And now, from the unchanging snows of Siberia, may be heard the wails of unseen Poland, as she rises from her cenotaph, ejaculates the woes and sufferings you have in store for my children, and with a warning voice whispers, “ fight on !— fight on !”’ Such is the first invective of Hungary against her mediating oppressor. From this she now turns and appeals to the world. To us especially does she thus appeal for sympathy. ‘“ You were op- pressed: so were we. You declared and fought for independence, and triumphed upon the field of battle; so did we. You have had the exper- ience of nearly three generations, and will you now by silence and inactivity, manifest before the world a trembling distrust in the justice and wis- dom of your principles? In the days of your weak- ness the world sent you a Montgomery, a Kosci- usko, and a La Fayette; and now, in the days of your pride and strength, fear not to make some just return. A. W. BUEL. MEANS OF HEALTH, EE how the means of sustenance and comfort are distributed and diversified throughout the earth. There is nota mood of beady, from the wantonness of health to the languor of the death-bed, for which the wonderful alchemy of nature does not proffer some luxury to stimulate our pleasures; or her pharmacy some catholicon to assuage our pains, fe What textures for clothing—from the gossamer thread which the silk-worm weaves, to silk-like furs which the winds of Zembla cannot penetrate | As the materials from which to construct our | dwellings, what Quincys and New Hampshires of | granite, what Alleghanies of oak, and what forests of pine, belting the continent! What coal-fields OF ELOQUENCE. to supply the lost warmth of the receding sun] Nakedness, and famine, and pestilence are not in- exorable ordinances of nature. Nudity and rags are only human idleness or ignorance out on ex- hibition. The cholera is but the wrath of God against uncleanliness and intemperance. Famine is only a proof of individual misconduct, or of national misgovernment. In the woes of Ireland, God is proclaiming the wickedness of England, in tones as clear and articulate as those in which He spoke from Sinai; and it needs no Hebraist to translate the thunder. And if famine needs not to be, then other forms of destitution and misery need not to be. But amid the exuberance of this country, our dangers spring from abundance rather than from scarcity. Young men, especially young men in our cities, walk in the midst of allurements for the appetite. Hence, health is imperiled; and so indispensable an element is health in all its forms of human wel- fare, that whoever invigorates his health has already obtained one of the greatest guarantees of mental superiority, of usefulness, and of virtue. Health, strength, longevity, depend upon immuta-~ ble laws. There is no chance about them. There is no arbitrary interference of higher powers with them. Primarily, our parents, and secondarily, ourselves, are responsible for them. The provi- dence of God is no more responsible, because the virulence of disease rises above the power of all therapeutics, or because one quarter part of the race die before completing the age of one year— die before completing one seventieth part of the term of existence alloted to them by the Psalmist; —I say the providence of God is no morg respon- sible for these things, than it is for picking pockets or stealing horses. HORACE MANN. SORROW FOR THE DEAD, (ey) ( YRROW for the dead is the only sorrow ‘waa? from which we refuse to be divorced. | Mm Every other wound we seek to heal; on every other affliction to forget; but this wound we consider our duty to keep open ; this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude, Where is the mother that would willingly forget the infant that perished like a blossom from ber arms, though every recollection is a pang? Where is the child that would willingly forget the most tender of parents, though to remember be but to lament? who, even in the hour of agony, would forget the friend over whom he mourns? who, even when the tomb is closing upon the remains of her he most loved, and he feels his heart, as it were, ‘cushed in the closing of its portals, would accept consolation that was to be bought by forgetfulness? No, the love which survives the tomb is one of theMASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 669 noblest attributes of the soul. If it has its woes, it has likewise its delights; and when the over- whelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recollection, when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its foveliness, who would root out such a sorrow from the heart? Though it may sometimes throw a passing cloud even over the bright hour of gaiety or spread a deeper sadness over the hour of gloom, yet who would exchange it even for the song of pleasure, or the burst of revelry? No; there isa voice from the tomb sweeter than song; there is a recollection of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living. Oh, the grave !— the grave! It buries every error; covers every defect; extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down upon the grave even of an enemy, and not feel a com- punctious throb, that ever he should have warred with the poor handful of earth that lies moulder- ing before him ! The grave of those we luved—what a place for meditation! There it is that we call up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness, and the thousand endearments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of inti- macy ; there it is that we dwell upon the tender- ness, the solemn, awful tenderness, of the part- ing scene; the bed of death with all its stifled griefs; its noiseless attendants; its mute, watch- ful assiduities; the last testimonies of expir- ing love; the feeble, faltering, thrilling (oh! how thrilling!) pressure of the hand; the last fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us even from the threshold of existence; the faint, faltering accents struggling in death to give one more assurance of affection! Aye, go to the grave of buried love, and meditate! There settle the account with thy conscience for every past benefit unrequited, every past endearment unregarded, of that being who can never, never, never return to be soothed by thy contrition ! If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul, or a furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent; if thou art a husband, and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth; if thou arta friend, and hast ever wronged in thougbt, word or deed, the spirit that generously confided in thee; if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath thy feet; then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back upon thy memory, and } | knocking dolefully at thy soul; then be sure that thou wilt lie down sorrowing and repentant on the graye, and utter the unheard groan, and pour the unavailing tear; more deep, more bitter, because unheard and unavailing. Then weave the chaplet of flowers, and strew the beauties of nature about the grave; console thy broken spirit, if thou canst, with these tender, yet futile tributes of regret; but take warning by the bitterness of this thy contrite affliction over the dead, and be more faithful and affectionate in thy discharge of thy duties to the living. WASHINGTON IRVING. DRESS REFORM. CONVENTION has recently been held in Vineland, attended by the women who are opposed to extravagance in dress. They propose, not only by formal resolution, but by personal example, to teach the world lessons of economy by wearing less adorn- ment and dragging fewer yards of silk. We wish them all success, although we would have more confidence in the movement if so many of the dele- gates had not worn bloomer dresses. Moses makes war upon that style of apparel in Deuteronomy xxii. 5: ‘‘The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto man.’’ Nevertheless we favor every effort to stop the extravagant use of dry goods and millinery. We have, however, no sympathy with the impl- cation that women are worse than men in this re- spect. Men wear all they can without interfering with their locomotion, but man is such an awk- ward creature he cannot find any place on his body to hang a great many fineries. He could not get round in Wall Street with eight or ten flounces and a big handled parasol, and a mountain of back hair. Men wear less than women, not because they are more moral, but because they cannot stand it. Asit is, many of our young men are padded to a superlative degree, and have corns and bunions on every separate toe from wearing tight shoes. Neither have we any sympathy with the impli- cation that the present is worse than the past in matters of dress. Compare the fashion-plates of the seventeenth century with the fashion-plates of the nineteenth, and you decide in favor of our day. The women of Isaiah’s time beat anything now. Do you have the kangaroo fashion Isaiah speaks of—the daughters who walked forth with “stretched forth necks?” Talk of hoops! Isaiah speaks of women with “round tires like the moon.” Do we have hot irons for curling our hair? Isaiah speaks of “wimples and crisping pins.” Do we sometimes wear glasses astride our nose, not be- cause we are near-sighted, but for beautification? ae ; | vt eg 5 oe cnn Pe RAT PI eR ee ee eee ofrB70 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. Isaiah speaks of the “glasses, and the earrings, and the nose jewels.’ The dress of to-day is far more sensible than that of a hundred or a thousand years ago. But the largest room in the world is room for im- ; provement, and we would cheer on those who would | ,;, attempt reformation either in male or female attire. | jhe nation’s wounds; to Meanwhile, we rejoice that so many of the pearls, | jsve borne the battle, and for his widow, and emeralds, and amethysts, and diamonds of the | ...,tan—to do all which may TRUE PATRIOTISM. ITH malice towarc with charity for all; with firmness in the right, a8 .% God gives us the right, let us ive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up eare for him who shall and his a cherish Nae ee 1 none; to see J SE ee we achieve al ae el - i : f i 4 i § i orp nan—to ao ail world are coming into the possession of Christian q women. Who knows fe the spirit of consecra- tion may some day come upon them, and it shall be again as it was in the time of Moses, that for I may ‘bring their bracelets, and earrings, and tablets, and j ewels? The precious stones of earth will never have their proper place till they are set around the Pearl of Great Price. T, DE WITT TALMAGE. N SHALL WAR BE NO MORE? EATH shall hereafter work alone and single- handed, unaided by his most Lo } terrible auxiliary. The world shall a ee in a Far down the vista QD: of futurity the tribes human kind are seen mingling i fraternal ae aie wondering and shuddering as they read of former brutality, and exulting at their own more fortunate lot. They turn their grateful eyes upon us. Their nances are not suffused with tears, nor streaked with kindred blood. We hear their voices ; they are not swelling with tones of reneral walling and despair. We look at their fields, vastated by the hand of rapine; they are waving with yellow harvests, or loaded with golden fruits and their sunny filled herds, which have never knowu the wa of war. We turn to the peaceful homes where our infancy has been cradled; they stand unde- spoil iled by ae hand of the destroyer. ‘The scenes where w e indulged our childish sports have never bee n prois ‘aned by hostile , feet ; and the tall groves, where we performed our feats of school-boy dex- terity, have never been desecrated to obtain the implements of human destruction. counte- smiling unde- pastures are with quiet nton ravage Then our thoughts extend and embrace the land of our birth, the institutions and laws we so much venerate, and something whispers us they shall endure forever; all time shall witness their increasing pee ver n that all nations shall copy from its example, and derive interminable benefits from its influence ; for war, the destroyer of every 1 that valuable institution the great and sole cause of all nati. mal ruin, is soon to be seen no more for- ever. TREVELYAN FA PLT p ABER. prosperity of the house of the Lord the women | a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations. ABRAHAM LINCOLN, A MARVELLOUS CLOCK. TR brains are seventy-year clocks. The angel of life winds them up at once for and gives the angel of resur the wheels of them; madness Death alone can break all, then closes the key into the hand of the Case, rection. “ Tic-tac, tic-tac !”’ £0 thought ; will only makes them go faster, our cannot stop izing the ever-swinging pend- at last the tien escapement we have car- into the ease, and, se ulum which we call the heart, sil the peneat our aC OLIVER WE nce . 4:8 : c 1ICKINY O21 1 heads. NDELL HOLMES, ried so long | ing fore MEN WHO NEVER DIE, oo WA) fae J forgetfulness an mired, and prized, ver be forgotten. Ih: beginning to live; to ;them not to the chambers of ldeath. What wead- and venerated in id almost said that live that life unclouded fame, of iness. for which their talents and Such men do not, cannot to feel not and xistence to the spirits into the who have stamped racters on the pillars of the age, who ir hearts’ blood into the channels of the public prosperity. ‘Fe “ me, ye who tread ed height, Warren dead? hie not ade and prostrate, the ae of his rallant heart pouring out of his gha ly woul id, 5) mm FP them, canne they a of unimpaired unmingled hap re now influence, of ) L 1 CG services were estined. . rm } 1 die. To be cold and breathless; this is not the it i spt AK NOv; men who have breathed their institutions of their country their cha | aed have poured th Can you not still see ove1 the fie id @ honor, with the rose of heaven upon his rty in his eye? Tell me, ke your pious pilgrimage to the shades that rrow house? these men, and men like 1e hand that traced the charter of independence is, indeed, motionless; the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed; but the that conceived, resolved, and maintained and which alone, to but moving resplendent cheek, and the fire of libs ye who ma of Vernon, is Washington indeed shut up in That which made cannot die. Tl lA : CO1da and na these, iofty spiritsMASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 671 such men, “‘ make it life to live.’ these cannot expire : “These shall resist the ee of decay, When time is 0’er and worlds have ps assed away ; Cold in the dust the perishe ‘d heart may lie, But that which warmed it once can never die.” EDWARD EVERETT. STOPPING THE MARCH OF FREEDOM, (FL is not for men long to hinder the march of human freedom. I have no fear for that ultimately; none at all—simply for this - reason: that I believe in the infinite God. You may make your statutes; an appeal always lies to the higher law and decisions adverse to that get set aside in the aves. Your statutes cannot hold Him. You may gather all the dried grass and all the straw in both continents; you may braid it into ropes to bind down the sea; while is calm, you may laugh, ee aay. Lo Lhave chained the ocean!” and howl down Whe law of Him who holds the universe as a rose-bud in His hand—its every ocean but a drop of dew. “ How the waters suppress their agitation,’ you may say. But when the goits blow their trumpets, the sea rises in his strength, snaps asunder the bonds that had confined his mighty limbs, and the world is littered with the idle hay! Stop the human race in its development and march to freedom! As well might the boys of Boston, some lustrous night, mounting the steeples of the town, call on the stars to stop their course! Gently, butirresistibly, the Greaterand the Lesser Bear move round the pole; Orion, in his mighty mail, comes up the sky ; the Bull, the Heavenly Twins, the Crab, the Lion, the Maid, the Scales, and ali that shining 5 company, pursue their march all night, and the new day dis- zovers the idle urchins in their lofty places all tired, and sleepy, and ashamed. THEODORE PARKER. INVECTIVE IN THE “ WILKINSON TRIAL.” ENTLEMEN, although my clients are free from the charge of shedding blood, there is a murderer, and, strange to say, his name appears upon the indictment, not as a criminal], but a prosecutor. His garments are wet with the blood of those upon whose deaths you hold this solemn inquest. Yonder he sits allaying for a moment the hunger of that fierce vulture, conscience, by casting before it the food of pre- tended regret, and faise but app arent eagerness for justice. He hoy yes to appease the names of his slaughtered victims—victims to his falsehood and treachery—by sacrificing upon their graves a becatomb of innocent men, By base misrepresen- tations of the conduct of the defendants, he in- duced his imprudent friends to attempt a vindica- tion of his pretended wrongs, by violence and bloodshed. His clansmen gat hered at his call, and followed him for vengeance; put when the fight began, and the keen weapons clashed in the sharp conflict—where was the wordy warrior? Aye, ‘‘where was Roderick then?” No “blast upon his bugle horn” encouraged his companions as they were laying down their lives in his quarrel ; no gleam of his dagger indicated a desire to avenge his fall; with treacherous cowardice he left them to their fate, and all his vaunted courage ended in ignominious flight. Sad and gloomy is the path that lies before him. You will in a few moments dash, untasted, from his lips, the sweet cup of revenge; to quaff whose intoxicating contents he has paid a price that would have purchased the goblet of the Egyptian queen. I behold gathering around him, thick and fast, dark and corroding cares. That face, which looks so ruddy, and even now is flushed with shame and conscious guilt, will from this day grow pale, until the craven blood shall refuse to visit the haggard cheek. In his broken and distorted sleen his dreams will be more fearful than those of the ‘‘ false, perju red Clarence;’’ and around his waking pillow, in the deep hour of night, will flit the ghosts of Meeks and Rothwell, shrieking their curses in his shrinking ear. Upon his head rests not only the blood shed in this unfortnnate strife, but also the soul-killing crime of perjury; for, surely as he lives, did the words of craft and falsehood fall fro his lips, ere they were hardly loosened from the 'oly volume. But I dismiss him, and do consign him to the furies, trusting, in all charity, that the terrible punishment he must suffer from the scorpion-lash of guilty conscience will be considered in his last account. SARGENT §. PRENTIS THE BALLOT-BOX AM aware that the ballot-box is not every- where a consistent symbol; but to a large degree it is so. I know what miserable associations cluster around this instrument of popular power. I know that the arena in which it stands is trodden into mire by the feet of reckless ambition and selfish greed. The wire- pulling and the bribing, the pitiful truckling and the grotesque compromises, the exaggeration and the detraction, the melo-dramatic issues and the sham patriotism, the party watchwords and the party nicknames, the seaemes of the few paraded as the will of the many, the elevation of men whose only worth is in the votes they command— vile men, whose hands you would not grasp ir a a ve P a a a ofee —_ ae md Se =o Fees ee es a : | 1 : | : : | o ao eT ee ee Are iG Fee Ve ts a Sesh htinae int 672 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. friendship, whose presence you would not tolerate by your fireside—incompetent men, whose fitness is not in their capacity as functionaries, or legisla- tors, but as organ pipes—the snatching at the slices and offal of office, the intemperance and the violence, the finesse and the falsehood, the gin and supply the means of shelter and of raiment on the same conditions; both hold their retainers in service by the same tenure—their necessity for bread; both use their superority to keep them: | selves superior. The power of money is as im: | perial as the power of the sword; I may as well the glory ; these are indeed but too closely identified | depend upon another for my head as for my bread. with that political agitation which circles around | The day is sure to come, when men will look back the ballot-box. But, after all, they are not essential to it. They are only the masks of a genuine grandeur and im- upon the prerogatives of Capital, at the present time, with as severe and as just a condemnation as we now look back upon the predatory chieftains of portance. Foritisa grand thing—something which | the Dark Ages. involves profound doctrines of right—something which has cost ages of effort and sacrifice—it is a grand thing that here, at last, each voter has just the weight of one man; no more, no Jess; and the weakest, by virtue of his recognized manhood, is as strong as the mightiest. And consider, for a moment, what it is to cast a vote. It is the token of inestimable privileges, and involves the respon- sibilities of an hereditary trust. It has passed suffering and blood. The grandeur of history is represented in your act. Men have wrought with pen and tongue, and pined in dungeons, and died on scaffolds, that you might obtain this symbol of freedom, and enjoy this consciousness of a sacred individuality. To the ballot have been transmitted, as it were, the dignity of the scepter and the potency of the sword. And that which is so potent as a right is also pregnant as a duty; a duty for the present and for the future. If you will, that folded leaf becomes a tongue of justice, a voice of order, a force of im- perial law; securing rights, abolishing abuses, erecting new institutions of truth and love. And, however, you will, it is the expression of a solemn responsibility, the exercise of an immeasurable power for good or for evil, now and hereafter. It is the medium through which you act upon your country—the organic nerve which incorporates you with its life and welfare. There is no agent with which the possibilities of the republic are more in- timately involved, none upon which we can fall back with more confidence than the ballot-box. EDWIN H. CHAPIN. DANGER OF VAST FORTUNES. tO AST fortunes are a misfortune to the State. fg They confer irresponsible power; and human nature, except in the rarest in- stances, has proved incapable of wielding irre- sponsible power, without abuse. The feudalism of Capital is not a whit less formidable than the feudalism of Force. The millionaire is as danger- ous to the welfare of the community, in our day, as was the baronial lord of the middleages. Both | Weighed in the balances of the sanctuary, or even in the clumsy scales of human justice, there is no equity in the allotments, which assign to one man but a dollar a day, with working, while an | other has an income of a dollar a minute, without | working. Under the reign of Force, or under the reign of Money, there may be here and there a | good man who uses his power for blessing and not | oppressing his race; but all their natural ten- into your hands as a right, reaped from fields of | | } | | | dencies are exclusiyely bad. In England, we see the feudalism of Capital approaching its catas- trophe. In Ireland, we see the catastrophe con- summated. Unhappy Ireland where the objects of human existence and the purposes of human government have all been reversed ; where rulers, for centuries, have ruled for the aggrandizement of themselves, and not for the happiness of their subjects; where misgoyernment has reigned so long, so supremely, and so atrociously, that, at the present time, the “Three Estates’’ of the realm are Crime, Famine, and Death. HORACE MANN, THE WORLD OF BEAUTY AROUND US. UT a higher and holier world than the world of Ideas, or the world of Beauty, lies around us, and we find ourselves endued with susceptibilities which affiliate us to | all its purity and its perfectness. The laws of nature are sublime, but there is a moral sublimity before which the highest intelligences must kneel and adore. The laws by which the winds blow, and the tides of the ocean, like a vast clepsydra, measure, with inimitable exactness, the hours of ever-flowing time; the laws by which the planets roll, and the sun vivifies and paints; the laws which preside over the subtle combinations of chemistry, and the amazing velocities of electricity ; the laws of germination and production in the vegetable and animal worlds ;—all these, radiant with eternal beauty as they are, and exalted above al) the objects of sense, still wane and pale before the Moral Glories that apparel the universe in their celestial light. The heart can put on charms which no beauty ofMASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 67) known things, nor imagination of the unknown, can aspire to emulate. Virtue shines in native colors, purer and brighter than pearl, or diamond, or prism, can reflect. Arabian gardens in their bloom can exhale no such sweetness as charity diffuses. Beneficence is godlike, and he who does | her glory will depart. The wall of fire will no most good to his fellow-man is the Master of Mas- | more surround her, and the munition of rocks will ters, and has learned the Art of Arts. Enrich and | no longer be her defence embellish the universe as you will, it is only a fit 7 temple for the heart that loves truth witha supreme love. Inanimate vastness excites wonder; knowl- edge kindles admiration, but love enraptures the soul. Scientific truth is marvelous, but moral truth is divine; and whoever breathes its air and walks by its light has found the lost paradise. For him a new heaven and a new earth have already land will remain till the last conflagration: but let the Sabbath be profaned withimpunity, the wor- ship of God be abandoned, the government and religious instruction of children be neglected, the streams of intemperance be permitted to flow, and LYMAN BEECHER. GETTING THE RIGHT START. HERE is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit than a vague desire for help, a wish to depend, to lean upon been created. His home is the sanctuary of God. the Holy of Holies. HORACE MANN. SOCIETY WITHOUT MORALITY. HE mass is changing. We are becoming another people. Our habits have held us, long after those moral causes which formed them have in a great degree ceased to operate. These habits, at length, are giving way. So many hands have so long been employed to pull away foundations, and so few to repair the breaches, that the building totters. So much enterprise has been displayed in removing obstructions from the cur- rent of human depravity, and so little to restore them, that the stream at length is beginning to run. It may be stopped now, but it will soon be- come deep, and broad, and rapid, and irresistible. The crisis then has come. By the people of this generation, by ourselves probably, the amazing question is to be decided, whether the inheritance of our fathers shall be preserved, or thrown away— whether our Sabbaths shall be a delight, or a loathing —whether the taverns on that holy day shall be crowded with drunkards, or the sanctuary of God with humble worshippers—whether riot and profanity shall fill our streets, and poverty our dwellings, and convicts our jails, and violence our land; or whether industry, and temperance, and righteousness, shall be the stability of our times— whether mild laws shall receive the cheerful sub- mission of freemen, or the iron rod of a tyrant compel the trembling homage of slaves. Be not deceived. Human nature in this nation is like human nature everywhere. All actual difference in our favor is adventitious, and the result of our laws, institutions and habits. It is a moral influ- ence which, with the blessing of God, has formed a state of society so eminently desirable. The same influence which has formed it, is indispensable to its preservation. The rocks and hills of New Ene- 43 somebody and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others. There are multitudes of young men who indulge in dreams of help from some quarter com- ing in at a convenient moment to enable them to secure the success in life which they covet. The vision haunts them of some benevolent old gentle- man with a pocket full of money, a trunk full of mortgages and stocks, and a mind remarkably ap- preciative of merit and genius, who will, perhaps, give or lend them from ten to twenty thousand dollars, with which they will commence and go on swimmingly. To me one of the most disgusting sights in the world is that of a young man with healthy blood, broad shoulders and a hundred and fifty pounds more or less, of good bone and muscle, standing with his hands in his pockets, longing for help. I admit that there are positions in which the most independent spirit may accept of assistance—nay, in fact, as a choice of evils, desire it; but for a man who is able to help himself, to desire the help of others in the accomplishment of his plans of life, is positive proof that he has received a most un fortunate training or that there is a leaven of mean- ness in his composition that should make him shudder. When, therefore, a young man has ascertained and fully received the fact that he does not know anything, that the world does not care anything about him, that what he wins must be won by his own brain and brawn, and that while he holds in his own hands the mears of gaining his own liveli- hood and the objects of his life, he cannot receive assistance without compromising his self-respect and selling his freedom, he is in a fair posi- tion for beginning life When a young man becomes aware that only by his own efforts can he rise into companionship and competition with the sharp, strong, and well-drilled minds around him, he is ready for work, and not before. The next lesson is that of patience, thoroughness of preparation, and contentment with the regular channels of business effort and enterprise, This e os st } m1 as Si ergata Spee ge RA NE NII ROE eR eteen — ae ed ee ce - : : : : ; ; : ESE Soa eae ee eer heehee a ee TA OM RRO TEEN 674 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. is, perhaps, one of the most difficult to learn of all the lessons of life. It is natural for the mind to reach out eagerly for immediate results. As manhood dawns, and the young man catches in its first light the pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the narrow, sinuous, long, and dusty path by which others have reached them, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage and to seek for success through broader channels, by quicker means. Beginning at the very foot of the hill and working slowly to the top seems a very discourag- ing process; and precisely at this point have thousands of young men made shipwreck of their lives. Let this be understood, then, at starting; that the patient conquest of difficulties which rise in the recular and legitimate channels of business and enterprise is not only essential in securing the success which you seek, but it is essential to that preparation of your mind requisite for the enjoy- ment of your successes and for retaining them when rained. It is the general rule of Providence, the world over and in all time, that unearned suc- cess isa curse. Itis the rule of Providence that the process of earning success shall be the prepar- ation for its conservation and enjoyment. So, day by day, and week by week; so, month after month, and year after year, work on, and in that process gain strencth and symmetry, and nerve and knowledge, that when success, patiently and bravely worked forth, shall come, it may find you prepared to receive it and keep it. The devel- opment which you will get in this brave and patient labor will prove itself in the end the most valuable of your successes. It will help to make a man of you. It will give you power and self- reliance. Jt will give you not only self-respect, but the respect of your fellows and the public. JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. THE THINKER. HAT is the hardest task in the world? To think. I would put myself in the attitude to look in the eye of an ab- stract truth, andI cannot. I blench and withdraw on this side and that. I seem to know what he meant, who said, “No man can see God, face to face, and live.’ For example, a man explores the basis of civil government. Let him intend his mind without respite, without rest, in one direction. His best heed long time avails him nothing. Yet thoughts are flitting before him. We all but ap- prehend, we dimly forbode the truth, We say, I will walk abroad, and the truth will take form and clearness tome. We go forth, but cannot find it, | | It seems as if we needed only the stillness aud composea attitude of the library, to seize the thought. But we come in, and are as far from it as at first. Then, in a moment, and unannounced, the truth appears. A certain wandering light ap- pears, and is the distinction, the principle, we wanted. But the oracle comes, because we had pre: viously laid seige to the shrine. Itseems as if the law of the intellect resembles that law of nature by which we now inspire, now expire, the breath by which the heart now draws in, now hurls out the blood: the law of undulation. So now you must labor with your brains, and now you must forbear your activity, and see what the great soul showeth. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. COMPANIONSHIP WITH CHILDREN. (OF, WEET has been the charm of childhood aif? on my spirit, throughout my ramble t= 4 with little Annie! Say not that it has a been a waste of precious moments, an ‘dle matter, a babble of childish talk, and a reve- rie of childish imaginations about topics unworthy of a grown man’s notice. Has it been merely this? Not so: not so. They are not truly wise who would affirm it. Asthe pure breath of children revives the life of aged men, so is our moral nature revived by their free and simple thoughts, their native feeling, their airy mirth, for little cause or none, their grief, soon roused and soon allayed. Their influence on us is at least reciprocal with ours on them. When our infancy is almost forgotten, and our boyhood long departed, though it seems but as yesterday; when life settles darkly down upon us, and we doubt whether to call ourselves young any more, then it is good to steal away from the society of bearded men, and eyen of gentler women, and spend an hour or two with children. After drink- ing from those fountains of still fresh existence, we shall return into the crowd, as I do now, to strug- ele onward and do our part in life, perhaps as fer- vently as ever, but, for a time, with a kinder and purer heart, and a spirit more lightly wise. All this by thy sweet magic, dear little Annie ! NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. MUSIC. AWS AUSIC is well said to be the speech of |e angels; in fact, nothing among the \f{_§ utterances allowed to man is felt to be so divine. It brings us near to the Infinite; we look for moments, across the cloudy elements, into the eternal sea of light, when song leads and inspires us. Serious nations, all nations that can still listen to the mandate of nature, have prized song and music as the highest; | as a vehicle for worship, for prophecy, and forMASTERPIECES wnatsoever in them was divine. The singer was a | vates admitted to the council of the univ erse, friend of the gods. and choicest benefactor to man. THOMAS CARLYLE. WORK, T is no man’s business whether he has genius or not; work he must, whatever he is, but quietly and steadily ; and the natural and © unforced results of such work will be always the thing God meant him to do, and will be his best. JOHN RUSKIN. TRUE POLITENESS. OW as to politeness; many have attempted its definition. I believe it is best to be known by description; definition not be- ing able to comprise it. I would, however, venture to call it benevolence in trifles, or the preference of others to ourselves, in little daily, hourly occurrences in the commerce of life A. better place, a more commodious seat, priority in being helped at table; what is it but sacrificing ourselves in such trifles to the convenience and pleasures of others? And this constitutes true politeness. It is a perpetual attention (by habit it ) grows easy and natural to us) to the little wants of those we are with, by which we either prevent or remove them. Bowing, ceremonies, formal com- pliments, stiff civilities will never be politeness ; that must be easy, natural, unstudied, manly, noble. And what will give this but a mind benev- olent, and pe rpetu: illy attentive to exert that ami- able disposition in tr ifles towards all you converse and live with. Benevolence in great matters takes a higher name and is the Queen of Virtue. LORD CHATHAM, ITALY. HAT light is shed upon the world at this day, from amidst these rugged palaces of Florence! Here; open, to all comers, in their beautiful and calm retreats, the ancient sculptors are immortal, side by side with Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, Rembrandt, Raphael, poets, historians, philosop yhers—those illustrious men of history, beside whom its crow ned head and harnessed warriors show so poor and small, and are so soon fergotten. Here, the imperishable part of noble minds surviv es, placid pnd equal, when strongholds of assau!t and defence are overthrown; when the tyranny of the many, or ae few, or both, is but a tale; when pride and power are 80 much cloistered dust. The fire within the stern streets, and among the massive palaces and towers, kin- dled by rays from heaven, is still burning brightly, when the flickering of war is extinguished, and the household fires of generations have decay red; as ELOQUENCE. 675 thousands upon thousauds of faces, rigid with the strife and passion of the hour, have faded out of the old squares and public haunts, whi ethe name- less Florentine lady, preserved from oblivion by a painter’s hand, yet lives on in enduring grace and truth. ° CHARLES DICKENS, EXECUTION OF JOAN OF ARC. AVING placed the king on his throne, it was her fortune thenceforward to be thwarted. More than one military plan X.. was entered upon which she did no approve. ‘Too well she felt that the end was now at hand. Still, she continued to expose her persor in battle as before; severe wounds had not taught ae caution ; and at length she was made prisone1 by the Burgundians, and finally given up to the English. The object now was to vitiate the coro- nation of Charles VII. as the work of a witch; and, for this end, Joan was tried for sorcery. She resolutely defended herself from the absurd accu- sation. Never, from the foundation of the earth, was there such a ¢ria/ as this, if it were laid open in all its beauty of defence, and all its malignity of at- tack. O child of France, shepherdess, peasant- virl! trodden under foot by all around thee, how I honor thy flashing intellect—quick as the light- ning, and as true to its mark—that ran before France and laggard Europe by many a century, confounding the malice of the ensnarer, and mak- ing dumb the oracles of falsehood! ‘“ Would you examine me as a witness against myself?” was the cee by which many times she defied their arts, The result of this trial was the condemnation of Joan to be burnt alive. Never did grim inquisi- tors doom to death a fairer victim by baser means. Woman, sister! there are some things which you do not execute as well as your brother, man no, nor ever will. Yet, sister woman! cheerfully, and with the love that burns in depths of admira- tion, I acknowledge that you can do one thing as well as the best of men—you can die grandly! On the twentieth of May, 1481, being then about nine- teen years of age Joan of Arc underwent her martyrdom. She was conducted before mid-day guarded by eight spearmen, to a platform of pro- digious height constructed of wooden billets, sup- ported by oc Ewen walls of lath and plaster, and traversed by hollow spaces in every direction, for the creation of air-currents. With an undaunted soul, but a meek and saintly demeanor, the maiden encountered her terrible fate. Upon her head was placed a mitre, bearing the inscription, “ Rel aps sed heretic, apo haiti idola- tress,’ Her piety displayed itself in the most touching manner to the last, and her angelic for- getfulpess of self was manifest In a most “yemark: m ; ie & ef +e ee oS | i ee’ | Ie i 4Rattan Cenk ” iss ee ee ae eS ee i i ; Bf i Reider no rs ee ee ee Pe Pm A We Sista! Dit 676 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. able degree. The executioner had been directed to apply his torch from below. He did so. The fiery smoke rose upwards in pillowing volumes. A monk was then standing at Joan’s side. Wrapt up in his sublime office, he saw not the danger, but still persisted in his prayers. Eyen then, when the last enemy was racing up the fiery stairs to seize her, even at that moment, did this noblest of girls think only for him—the one friend that would not forsake her—and not for herself; bid- ding him with her last breath to care for his own preservation, but to leave her to God. “Go down,” she said: “lift up the cross before me, that I may see it in dying, and speak to me pious words to the end.” Then protesting her innocence, and recom- mending her soul to Heaven, she continued to pray as the flames leaped up and walled her in. Her last audible word was the name of Jesus. Sustained by faith in Him, in her last fight upon the scaffold, she had triumphed eloriously ; victoriously she had tasted death. Few spectators of this martyrdom were so hard- ened as to contain their tears. All the English, with the exception of a few soldiers who made a jest of the affair, were deeply moved. The French murmured that the death was cruel and unjust. “She ‘dies a martyr!”’ “Ah, we are lost, we haye burned a saint!” “ Would to God that my soul were with hers!” Such were the exclamations on eyery side. A fanatic English soldier, who had sworn to throw a fagot on the funeral-pile, hearing Joan’s last prayer to her Saviour, suddenly turned away, a penitent for life, saying everywhere that he had seen a dove, rising upon white wings to aeaven from the ashes where she stood. THOMAS DE QUINCEY. AT THE LAST: =~ FEEL in myself the future life. Iam like a forest which has been more than once cut down. The new shoots are stronger and livelier than ever. I am rising, I know, to- ward the sky. The sunshine is on my head. The earth gives me its generous Sap, but Heaven lights me with the reflection of unknown worlds. You say the soul is nothing but the resultant of bodily powers, Why, then, is my soul the most luminous when my bodily powers begin to fail? Winter is on my head and eternal spring is in my heart. Then I breathe, at this hour, the fragrance of the lilacs, the violets and the roses, as at twenty years. The nearer I approach the end the plainer I hear around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. It is maryelous, yet simple. It is a fairy tale, and it is history. For half a century I have been writing my thoughts in prose, verse, history, philosophy, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode, song—I have tried all. But I feel that | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | I have not said the thousandth part of what is in me. When I go down to the grave I can say, like so many others, “I have finished my day’s work; = but I cannot say, ‘‘I have finished my Ho! Dey day’s work will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley; it is a thoroughfare. It closes in the twilight to open with the dawn. I improve every hour, because I love this world as my fatherland ; because the truth compels me as it compelled Voltaire, that human divinity. My work is only a beginning. My monument is hardly above its foundation. I would be glad to see it mounting and mounting forever. The thirst for the infinite proves infinity. VICTOR HUGO. NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA. IS notions of the world, as he expresses them there at St. Helena, are almost tragical to consider. He seems to feel the most unaffected surprise that it has all gone so; that he is flung out on the rock here, and the world is still moving on its axis. France is great, and all-great; and, at bottom, he ‘is France. England itself, he says, is by nature only an appendage of France; “ Another Isle of Oleren to France.” So it was by nature, by Napoleon-nature ; and yet look how in fact—Here am 1: He cannot understand it; inconceivable that the reality has not corresponded to his pro- cramme of it; that France was not all-great ; that he was not France. “Strong delusion,” that he should believe the thing to be which is not! The compact, clear-seeing, [talian nature of him, strong, eenuine, which he once had, has enveloped itself, half dissolved itself in a turbid atmosphere of French fanfaronade. The world was not dis- posed to be trodden down underfoot, to be bound into masses, and built together, as he liked, for a pedestal for France and him; the world had quite other purposes in view! Napoleon’s astonish- ment is extreme. But alas, what help now? He had gone that way of his; and nature also had gone her way. Having once parted with reality, he tumbles helpless in vacuity ; no rescue for him. He had to sink there, mournfully as men seldom did; and break his great heart, and die—this poor Napoleon; a great implement, too = un wasted, till it was useless; our last great man! THOMAS CARLYLE, BOOKS. N the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books! They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past aves, Books are the true levellers. They give te OoMASTERPIECES all who will faithfuliy use them the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am—no matter though the prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure dwelling—if the sacred writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshold to sing to me of | Paradise, and Shakespeare to open to me the worlds of imagination and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me with his practical wisdom—I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a | cultivated man, though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. PORTRAIT OF A DUTCHMAN. HE renowned Wouter (or Walter) Van Twiller was descended from a long line of Dutch burgomasters, who had successively dozed away their lives, and grown fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam, and who had comported themselves with such singular wisdom and propriety that they were never either heard or talked of—which, next to being universally applauded, should be the object of ambition of all magistrates and rulers. There are two opposite ways by which some men make a figure in the world; one by talking faster than they think; and the other by holding their tongues and not thinking at all. By the first, many a smatterer acquires the reputation of a man of quick parts; by the other, many a dunderpate, like the owl, the stupidest of birds, comes to be considered the very type of wisdom. ‘This, by-the- way, is a casual remark, which I would not for the universe have it thought I apply to Governor Van Twiller. It is true that he was a man shut up within himself, like an oyster, and rarely spoke except in monosyllables; but then it was allowed he seldom said a foolish thing. So invincible was his gravity that he was never known to laugh, or even to smile, through the whole course of a long and prosperous life. Nay, if a joke were uttered in his presence that set light-minded hearers in a roar, it was observed to'throw him into a state of perplexity. Sometimes he would deign to inquire into the matter; and when, after much explana- tion, the joke was made as plain as a pikestaff, he would continue to smoke his pipe in silence, and at length, knocking out the ashes, would exclaim, “Well! I see nothing in all that to laugh about!” The person of this illustrious old gentleman was formed and proportioned as though it had been moulded by the hands of some cunning Dutch statuary, asa model of majesty and lordly grandeur. He was exactly five feet six inches in height, and OF ELOQUENCE. 67) was a perfect sphere, and of such stupendous dimensions, that dame Nature, with all her sex’s ingenuity, would have been puzzled to construct a neck capable of supporting it; wherefore she wisely declined the attempt, and settled it firmly on the back of his back-bone, just between the shoulders. iis body was oblong, and particularly capacious at bottom ; which was wisely ordered by Providence, seeing that he was a man of sedentary habits, and very averse to the idle labor of walking. His | legs were short, but sturdy in proportion to the weight they had to sustain; so that when erect he had not a little the appearance of a beer-barrel on skids. His face—that infallible index of the mind —presented a vast expanse, unfurrowed by any of those lines and angles which disfigure the human countenance with what is termed expression. ‘Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in the midst, like two stars of lesser magnitude in a hazy firmament; and his full-fed cheeks, which seemed to have taken toll of everything that went into his mouth, were curiously mottled and streaked with dusky red, like a spitzenberg apple. His habits were as regular as his person. He daily took his four stated meals, appropriating exactly an hour to each; he smoked and doubted eight hours, and he slept the remaining twelve of the four and twenty. Such was the renowned | Wouter Van Twiller—a true philosopher; for his mind was either elevated above, or tranquilly set- tled below, the cares and perplexities of this world. He had lived in it for years, without feeling the least curiosity to know whether the sun revolved round it, or it around thesun; and he had watched, for at least half a centry, the smoke curling from his pipe to the ceiling, without once troubling his | zix feet five inches in circumference. His head head with any of those numerous theories by which a philosopher would have perplexed his brain, in accounting for its rising above the surrounding atmosphere. WASHINGTON IRVING. A GOOD DAUGHTER. me GOOD daughter !—there are other minis- 4 tries of love more conspicuous than hers, but none in which a gentler, lovelier m. spirit dwells, and none to which the heart’s warm requitals more joyfully respond. There is no such thing as a comparative estimate of a parent’s affection for one or another child. There is little which he needs to covet to whom the treasure of a good child has been given. But a son’s occupations and pleasures carry him more abroad, and he lives more among temptations, which hardly permit the affection, that is follow- ing him perhaps over half the globe, to be wholly unmingled with anxiety, till the time when he ‘comes to relinquish the shelter of his father’s roof oy ' i Lg ae oe a Y RS er a se “ SDL Sp HBB RY Pp SS A nO II TN PTET TIESeee We oT Lad. port a1 Pn nat es a : | : ’ : : 3 3 ; : ; t | a, Ce: Peli ketal al oe NS SS dace Phe 678 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. for one of his own; while a good daughter is the steady light of her parent’s house. Her idea is indissolubly connected with that of his happy fire- side. She is his morning sunlight and his evening star. ‘The grace, and vivacity, and tenderness of her sex have their place in the mighty sway which she holds over his spirit. The lessons of recorded wisdom which he reads with her eyes come to his mind with a new charm as they blend with the beloved melody of her voice. He scarcely knows weariness which her song does not make him for- get, or gloom which is proof against the young brightness of her smiles. She is the pride and ornament of his hospitality, and the gentle nurse of his sickness, and the constant agent in those nameless numberless acts of kindness, which one chiefly cares to have rendered because they are unpretending, but all expressive proofs of love. And then what a cheerful sharer is she, and what an able lightener, of a mother’s cares! what an ever-present delight and triumph to a mother’s affection! Oh, how little do those daughters know of the power which God has committed to them, and the happiness God would have them enjoy, who do not, every time that a parent’s eye rests on them, bring rapture to a parent’s heart! A true love will almost certainly always greet their approaching steps. That they will hardly alienate. But their ambition should be not to have it a love merely which feelings implanted by nature excite, but one made intense and overflow- ing by approbation of worthy conduct; and she is strangely blind to her own happiness, as well as undutiful to them to whom she owes the most, in whom the perpetual appeals of parental disinter- estedness do not call forth the prompt and full echo of filial devotion. JOHN GRAHAM PALFREY. HUMILITY. HE only true independence is in humility ; for the humble man exacts nothing, and cannot be mortified—expects nothing, and eannot be disappointed. Humility is also a heal- ing virtue; it will cicatrize a thousand wounds, which pride would keep forever open. But humil- ity is not the virtue of a fool; since it is not con- sequent upon any comparison between ourselves and others, but between what we are and what we ought to be—which no man ever was. WASHINGTON ALLSTON. CHARACTER OF MAJOR ANDRE, HERE was something singularly interesting in the character and fortunes of Andre. )§ To an excellent understanding, well im- proved by education and travel, he united a peculiar elegance of mind and manners, and the advantage of a pleasing person. *Tis said he possessed a pretty taste for the fine arts, and had himself attained some proficiency in poetry, music, and painting. His knowledge appeared without osten- tation, and embellished by a diffidence that rarely accompanies so many talents and accomplishments, which left you to suppose more than appeared. His sentiments were ele vated, and inspired esteem ; they had a softness that conciliated affection. His elocution was handsome ; his address easy, polite, and insinuating. By his merit, he had acquired the unlimited confidence of his general, and was making a rapid progress in military rank and rep- utation. But in the height of his career, flushed with new hopes from the execution of a project the most beneficial to his party that could be devised, he was at once precipitated from the sum- mit of prosperity. and saw all the expectations of his ambition blasted, and himself ruined. The character I have given of him is drawn partly from what I saw of him myself, and partly from information. I am aware that a man of real merit is never seen in so favorable a light as through the medium of adversity ; the clouds that surround him are shades that set off his good qual- ‘ties, Misfortune cuts down the little vanities that, in prosperous times, serve as so many spots in his virtues, and gives a tone of humility that makes his worth more amiable. His spectators, who enjoy a happier lot, are less prone to detract from it through envy, and are more disposed, by compassion, to give him the credit he deserves, and perhaps even to magnify it. I speak not of Andre’s conduct in this affair as ¢ philosopher, but as a man of the world. The au- thorized maxims and practices of war are the satires of human nature. They countenance al- most every species of seduction as well as violence ; and the general who can make most traitors in the army of his adversary is frequently most applauded. On this scale we acquit Andre, while we could not hut condemn him if we were to examine his con- duct by the sober rules of philosophy and moral rectitude. It is, however, a blemish on his fame that he once intended to prostitute a flag; about this a man of nice honor ought to have had a scruple; but the temptation was great; let his misfortunes cast a veil over his error. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. THE HERO. HE true hero is the great, wise man of duty —he whose soul is armed by truth and sup- : ported by the smile of God—he who meets life’s perils with a cautious but tranquil spirit, gathers strength by facing its storms, and dies, if he is called to dxe, as a Christian victor at the vost of duty. And af we must have heroes, and WarMASTERPIECES wherein to make them, there is no so brilliant war as a war with wrong, no hero so fit to be sung as he who has gained the bloodless vie tory of truth and mercy. But if bravery be not the same as courage, still it is a very cee and plausible counterfeit, The man himself is told, after the occasion is past, how heroically he bore himself, and when once his nerves have become tranquillized, he begins even to believe it. And since we cannot stay content in the dull, uninspired world of economy and work, we are as ready to see ahero as he to be one. Nay, we must have our heroes, as I just said, and we are ready to harness ourselves, by the million, to any man who will let us fight him out the name. Thus we find out occasions for war—wrongs to be redressed, revenges to be taken, such as we may feign inspiration and play the great heart under. We collect armies, and dress up leaders in gold and high colors, meaning, by the brave look, to inspire some notion of a hero beforehand. Then we set the men in phalanxes and squadrons, where the personality itself is taken away, and a vast impersonal person called an army, a magnanimous and brave monster, is all that remains. The masses of fierce color, the glitter of steel, the danc- ing plumes, the waving flags, the deep throb of the music lifting every foot—under these the living acres of men, possessed by the one thought of playing brave to-day, are rolled on to battle. Thunder, fire, dust, blood, groans—what of these? —nobody thinks of these, for nobody dares to think till the day is over, and then the world re- OF ELOQUENCE. 679 APPEAL FOR QUEEN CAROLINE. UCH, my lords, is the case before you! such is the evidence in support of this measure—eyidence inadequate to prove a debt, impotent to deprive of a civil right, ridiculous to convict of the lowest offence, scandalous, if brought forward to support a charge of the highest nature which the law knows, mon- strous to ruin the honor and blast the name of an English queen! What shall I say, then, if this is the proof by which an act of judicial legislation, a parliamentary sentence, anex post facto law, is sought to be passed against a defenceless woman? My lords, I pray you to pause; I do earnestly beseech you to take heed. You are standing upon the brink of a precipice—then beware! It will go forth as your judgment, if sentence shall pass against the queen. But it will be the only judg- ment you ever pronounced, which, instead of reaching its object, will return and bound back upon those who give it. Save the country, my lords, from the horrors of this catastrophe—sayve yourselves from this peril. revere that country of which you are the orna- ments, but in which you can flourish no longer, when severed from the people, than the blossom when cut off from the roots and the stem of the tree. Save that country, that you may continue to adorn it; save the crown, which is in jeopardy, the aristocracy, which is shaken; save the altar, which must stagger with the blow that rends its kindred throne! You have said, my lords, you joices to behold a new batch of heroes. And this is the devil’s play, that we call war. HORACE BUSHNELL. SELF-RELIANCE. NSIST on yourself; never imitate. Your own gift you can present every moment with the cumulative force of a whole life’s cultiva- tion; but of the adopted talent of another you have only an extemporaneous, half possession. That which each can do bes t, none but his Maker can teach him. No man yet knows what it is, nor can, till that person has exhibitedit. Where is the master who could have taught Shakespeare? Where is the master who could haye instructed Franklin, or Washington, or Bacon, or Newton? Every great man is aunique. The Scipionism of Scipio is pre- cisely that part he could not borrow. If anybody will tell me whom the great man imitates in the original crisis when he performs a great act, I will tell him who else than himself can teach him. Shakespeare will never be made by the study of Shakespeare. Do that which is assigned thee, and thou canst not hope too much or dare too much. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. | { have willed, the church to the queen, have willed that she should be deprived of its solemn service. She has, instead of that solemnity, the heartfelt prayers of the people. She wants no prayers of mine. But Ido here pour forth my humble sup- plication to the throne of mercy, that that mercy may be poured down upon the people, in a larger measure than the merits of its rulers may deserve, and that your heartssmay,be turned to justice. Reem BROUGHAM. LA a =; ‘RETURN/QMICOLUMBUS. REAT was the agitation in the little com- munity of Palos, as they beheld the well-known vessel of the admiral re- entering their harbor. Their desponding imagi- nations had long since consigned him to a watery grave; for, in addition to the preternatural horrors which hung over the voyage, they had experienced the most stormy and disastrous winter within the recollection of the oldest mariners. Most of them had relatives or friends on board. They thronged immediately to the shore to assure themselves with their own eyes of the truth of their return, When they beheld their faces once more, and saw them oot eek | Late Ne eels COPS Ait mtintnnion ;— ee ee a fof el er i a oe i el OD EEE OWT OA ' | 3 : my A ke Meee Ce Des Sabet PLE EL" 686 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. accompanied by the numerous evidences which they brought back of the success of the expedition, they burst forth in acclamations of joy and gratu- lation. They awaited the landing of Columbus, when the whole population of the place accom- panied him and his crew to the principal church, where solemn thanksgivings were offered up for their return; while every bell in the village sent forth a joyous peal in honor of the glorious event. The admiral was too desirous of presenting him- self before the sovereigns, to protract his stay long at Palos. He took with him on his journey speci- mens of the multifarious products of the newly- discovered regions. He was accompanied by several of the native islanders, arrayed in their simple barbaric costume, and decorated, as he passed through the principal cities, with collars, bracelets, and other ornaments of gold, rudely fashioned. He exhibited also considerable quantities of the same metal in dust, or in crude masses, numerous vecetable exotics, possessed of aromatic or medi- einal virtue, and several kinds of quadrupeds un- known in Europe, and birds whose varieties of gaudy plumage gave a brilliant effect to the pageant. The admiral’s progress through the country was everywhere impeded by the multitudes thronging forth to gaze at the extraordinary spec- tacle, and more extraordinary man, who, in the emphatic language of that time, which has now lost its force from its familiarity, first revealed the existence of a “ New World.” As he passed through the busy, populous city of Seville, every window, balcony, and housetop, which could afford a glimpse of him, 1s described to have been crowded with spectators. It was the middle of April before Columbus reac hed Barcelona. The nobility and cavaliers in attendance on the court, together with the authorities of the city, eame to the gates to receive him, and escort him to the royal presence. Ferdinand and Isabella were seated, with their son, Prince John, under a superb canopy of state, awaiting his arrival. On his approach, they rose from their seats, and, ex- tending their hands to him to salute, caused him to be seated before them. These were unprece- dented marks of condescension, to a person of Columbus’ rank, in the haughty and ceremonious court of Castile. It was, indeed, the proudest mo- ment in the life of Columbus. He had fully es- tablished the truth of his long-contested theory, in the face of argument, sophistry, sneer, skepticism, and contempt. He had achieved this, not by chance, but by calculation, supported through the most adverse circumstances by consummate conduct. The honors paid him, which had hitherto been reserved only for rank, or fortune, or military suc- cess, purchased by the blood and tears of thousands, were, in his case, a homage to intellectual power | successfully exerted in behalf of the noblest inter- | ests of humanity. WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. OUR WORLD. THINK I love and reverence all arts equally, only putting my own just above the others; because in it I recognize the union and cul- © mination of them all. To me it seems as if when God conceived the world, that was poetry ; He formed it, and that was Sculpture; He colored it. and that was Painting; He peopled it with liv- ing beings, and that was the grand, divine, eternal Drama. CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN. FUTILITY OF EFFORTS TO STAY REFORM. HAVE spoken s0 often on this subject, that [ am sure both you and the gentlemen here present will be obliged to me for saying but little, and that favor I am as willing to con- fer, as you can be to receive it. I feel most deeply the event which has taken place, because, by put- tine the two houses of Parliament in collision with each other, it will impede the public business and ) 1° diminish the public prosperity. I feel it as a churchman, because I cannot but blush to see so many dignitaries of the church arrayed against the wishes and happiness of the people. I feel it more than all. because I believe it will sow the seeds of deadly hatred between the aristocracy and the creat mass of the people. The loss of the bill I do not feel, and for the best of all possible reasons— because I have not the slightest idea it is lost. I have no more doubt, before the expiration of the winter, that this bill will pass, than I have that the annual tax bills will pass, and a greater certainty than this no man can have, for Franklin tells us, there are but two things certain in this world— death and taxes. As for the possibility of the House of Lords preventing ere long a reform of Parliament, I hold it to be the most absurd notion that ever entered into human imagination. I do not mean to be be disrespectful, but the attempt of the lords to stop the progress of reform reminds me very forcibly of the great storm off Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the excellent Mrs. Partington on that occasion. In the winter of 1824 there set in a great flood upon that town—the tide rose to an incredible height—the waves rushed in upon the houses, and everything was threatened with destruction. In the midst of this sublime and terrible storm, Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen at the door of her house with a mop and pattens, trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away theMASTERPIECES Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Partington’s spirit was up; but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop, or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with atempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease—be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington. SYDNEY SMITH. PLEA OF SERGEANT BUZFUZ,IN “BAR- DELL VERSUS PICKWICK,” HE plaintiff, gentlemen, the plaintiff is a widow; yes, gentleman, a widow. The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying for many years, the esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of the guardians of his royal revenues, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek elsewhere for that repose and peace which a custom-house can never afford. Sometime before his death he had stamped his likeness upon a little boy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed exciseman, Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement and tranquillity of Goswell-street; and here she placed in her front parlor window a written placard, bearing this inscription: “ Apartments furnished for a single gentleman. Inquire within.” Jentreatthe attention of the jury to the wording of this docu- ment—“ Apartments furnished for a single gentle- man!” Mrs. Bardell’s opinion of the opposite sex, gentlemen, were derived from a long con- templation of the inestimable qualities of her lost husband. She had no fear—she had no distrust— she had no suspicion—all was confidence and reliance. “Mr. Bardell,”’ said the widow; “ Mr. Bardell was a man of honor—Mr. Bardell was a man of his word—-Mr. Bardeli was no deceiver—Mr. Bar- dell was once a single gentleman himself; to single gentlemen I look fer protection, for assistance, for comfort and for consolation in single gen- tlemen I shall perpetually see something to re- mind me of what Mr. Bardell was, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a single gentleman, then, shall my lodgings be let.’ Actuated by this beautiful and touching impulse (among the best impulses of our imper- fect nature, gentlemen), the lonely and desolate widow dried her tears, furnished her first floor, caught her innocent boy to her maternal bosom and put the bili up in her parlor window. Did it remain there long? No. The serpent was on the watch, the train was laid, the mine was preparing, the sapper and miner was at work. Before the bill had been in the parlor window three days—three days, gentlemen—a being, erect upon two legs, and OF ELOQUENCE. 631 not of a monster, knocked at the door of Mrs. Bardell’s house. He inquired within; he took the lodgings; and on the very next day he entered into possession of them. This man was Pickwick— Pickwick the defendant. Of this man Pickwick I will say little; the sub- ject presents but few attractions; and I, gentle- men, am not the man, nor are you, gentlemen, the men to delight in the contemplation of revolting heartlessness and systematic villany. I say system- atic villany, gentlemen, and when I say systematic villany, iet me tell the defendant, Pickwick, if he be in court, as I am informed he is, that it would have been more decent in him, more becoming, in better judgment, and in better taste, if had stopped away. Let me tell him, gentlemen, that any gestures of dissent or disapprobation in which he may indulge in this court will not go down with you; that you will know how to value and how to appreciate them; and let me tell him further, as my lord will tell you, gentlemen, that a counsel, in his discharge of his duty to his client, is neither to be intimidated, nor bullied, nor put down; and that any attempt to do either the one or the other, or the first or the last, will recoil on the head of the attempter, be he plaintiff, or be he defendant, be his name Pickwick, or Nokes, or Stokes, or Stiles, or Brown, or Thompson. I shall show you, gentlemen, that for two years Pickwick continued to reside constantly, and with- out interruption or intermission, at Mrs. Bardell’s house. I shall show you that Mrs. Bardell, during the whole of that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked his meals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad, darned, aired, and prepared it for wear when it came home, and, in short, enjoyed his fuliest trust and confidence. I shall show you that, on many occasions, he gave half-pence, and on some occa- sions even sixpence, to her little boy; and shall prove to you, by a witness whose testimony it will be impossible for my learned friend to weaken or controvert, that on one occasion he patted the boy on the head, and after inquiring whether he had won any aller tors or commoneys lately (both of which I understand to be species of marbles much prized by the youth of this town), made use of this remarkable expression: “How would you like to have another father?” CHARLES DICKENS. TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS. # HE place was worthy of sucha trial. It was the great hall of William Rufus; the hall i which had resounded with acclamations at the inauguratton of thirty kings; the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon, Searing all the outward semblance of a man, and and the just absolution of Somers; the hall where Seca ete Ree aioe Ee eC SA oi Ca ae + a p yh uh ? Sa ee Maite ICN eS a oe sR RE RO ed Se ees ‘ee SL ne ad zy 2 Pees pos _o ety | i paso eee ete at oan OP a th Sietbatinala ii oe 3 See 682 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. the eloquence of Stratford had for a moment awed and melted a victorious party inflamed with just resentment; the hall where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has half redeemed his fame. Neither military nor civil pomp «.s wanting. The avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry. The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were crowded by such an audience as rarely has excited the fears or emulation of an orator. There were gathered together, from all parts of a great, free, enlightened and prosperous realm, grace and female loveliness, wit and learning, the representa- tives of every science and every art. There were seated around the queen the fair-haired daughters of the house of Brunswick. There the ambassadors of great kings and commonwealths gazed with admira- tion on a spectacle which no other country in the world could present. There Siddons, in the prime of her majestic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all the imitations of the stage. There the historian of the Roman Empire thought of the days when Cicero pleaded the cause of Sicily against Verres; and when, before a Senate which had still some show of freedom, Tacitus thundered against the oppressor of Africa. ‘There were seen, side by side, the greatest painter and the greatest scholar of the age. The spectacle had lured Reynolds from that easel which has preserved to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many writers and statesmen and the sweet smiles of so many noble matrons. It had induced Parr to suspend his labors in that dark and profound mine from which he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition—a treasure too often buried in the earth, too often paraded with injudicious and inelegant ostentation; but still precious, massive and splendid. There ap- peared the voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in secret plighted his faith. There, too, was she, the beautiful mother of a beautiful race, the Saint Cecilia, whose delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the common decay. There were the members of that brilliant society which quoted, criticised and exchanged repartees, under the rich peacock hangings of Mrs. Montague. And there the ladies, whose lips, more persuasive than those of Fox himself, had carried the Westminister election against palace and treasury, shone around Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. There stood Fox and Sheridan, the English Demosthenes and the English Hyperides. There was Burke, ignorant, indeed, of the art of adapting his reasonings and his style to the capacity of his hearers; but in aptitude of comprehension and richness of imagination superior to every orator, ancient or modern. LORD MACAULAY. PERORATION IN THE ORATION AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS. Y lords, at this awful close, in the name : of the Commons, and surrounded by Jt, them, I attest the retiring, I attest a Me ee advancing generations, be- tween which, as a link in the great chain of eter- nal order, we stand. We call this nation, we call the world to witness, that the Commons have shrunk from no labor; that we have been guilty of no prevarication ; that we have made no compro- mise with crime; that we have feared no odium whatsoever in the long warfare we have carried on with the crimes—with the vices—with the exorbi- tant wealth—with the enormous and overpowering ‘nfluence of Eastern corruption. This war, my lords. we have waged for twenty-two years, and the conflict has been fought, at your lordsbip’s bar, for the last seven years. My lords, twenty-two years is a great space in the scale of the life of man; it 1s no inconsidera- ble space in the history of a great nation. A business which has so long occupied the councils and the tribunals of Great Britain cannot possibly be huddled over in the course of vulgar, trite and transitory events. Nothing but some of thos: creat revolutions, that break the traditionary chain of human memory, and alter the very face of nature itself, can possibly obscure it. My lords, we are all elevated to a degree of importance by it; the meanest of us will, by means of it, more or less, become the concern of posterity—if we are yet to hope for such a thing, in the present state of the world, as a recording, retrospective, civilized pos- terity ; but this is in the hand of the great Disposer of events; it is not ours to settle how it shall be. My lords, your house yet stands; it stands as a great edifice; but let me say, it stands in the midst of ruins—in the midst of the ruins that have been made by the greatest moral earthquake that ever convulsed or shattered this globe of ours. My lords, it has pleased Providence to place us in such a state, that we appear every moment to be upon the verge of some great mutations. There is one thing and one thing only, which defies all mutation, that which existed before the world, and will survive the fabric of the world itself—I mean justice; that justice which, emanating from Divinity, has a place in the breasts of every one of us, given us for our guide with regard to ourselyes and with regard to others, and which will stand, after this globe is burned to ashes, our advocate or our accuser before the great Judge, when He comes to call upon us for the tenor of a well-spent lite.MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 083 __ My lords, if you must fall, may you so fall! but if you stand—and stand I trust you will—together with the fortune of this ancient nlonarchy—together with the ancient laws and liberties of this great and illustrious kingdom—may you stand as unim- peached in honor as in power; may you stand, not as a substitute for virtue, but as an ornament of virtue, as a security for virtue; may you stand long, and long stand the terror of tyrants; may you stand the refuge of the afflicted nations; may you stand a sacred temple, for the perpetual resi- dence of an inviolable justice. EDMUND BURKE. JNIVERSALITY OF CONSCIENCE. HIiS theology of conscience has been greatly obscured, but never, in any country, or at any period in the history of the world, has it been wholly obliterated. We behold the vestiges of it in the simple theology of the desert; and, perhaps, more distinctly there, than in the complex superstitions of an artificial and civilized heathenism. In confirmation of this, we might quote the invocations to the Great Spirit from the wilds of North America. But, indeed, in every quarter of the globe, where missionaries have held converse with savages, sven with the rudest of nature's children—when speaking on the topics of sin and judgment, they did not speak to them in gocables unknown. And as this sense of a uni- versal law and a Supreme Lawgiver never waned into total extinction among the tribes of ferocious and untamed wanderers—so neither was it alto- gether stifled by the refined and intricate poly- theism of more enlightened nations. When the guilty Emperors of Rome were tempest-driven by remorse and fear, it was not that they trembled before a spectre of their own imagination, When terror mixed, which it often did, with the rage and cruelty of Nero, it was the theology of conscience which haunted him. It was not the suggestion of a capricious fancy which gave him the disturbance —hbut a voice issuing from the deep recesses of a moral nature, as stable and uniform throughout the species as is the material structure of human- ity; and in the lneaments of which we may read that there is a moral regimen among men, and therefore a moral governor who hath instituted, aud who presides over it. Therefore it was that these imperial despots, the worst and haughtiest of recorded monarchs, stood aghast at the spectacle of their own worthlessness. This is not a local or a geographical notion. It is a universal feeling—to be found wherever men are found, because interwoven with the constitu- tion of humanity. It is not, therefore, the pecu- liarity of one creed or of one country. It circulates at large throughout the family of man. We can trace it in the theology of savage life; nor is it wholly overborne by the artificial theology of a complex and idolatrous paganism. Neither crime nor Civilization can extinguish it; and, whether in the “conscientia scelerum”’ of the fierce and fren- zied Catiline, or in the tranquil contemplative musings of Socrates and Cicero, we find the im- pression of at once a righteous and reigning Sovereign. THOMAS CHALMERS. DEMAND FOR JUSTICE TO IRELAND. WILL never be guilty of the crime of des- pairing of my country; and to-day, after two centuries of suffering, here I stand amidst you in this hall, repeating the same com- plaints, demanding the same justice which was claimed by our fathers; but no longer with the humble voice of the suppliant, but with the senti- ment of our force and the conviction that Ireland will henceforth find means to do, without you, what you shall have refused to do for her! Imake no compromise with you; I want the same rights for us that you enjoy; the same municipal system for Ireland as for England and Scotland: other- wise, what is a union with you? A union upon parchment! Well, we will tear this parchment to pieces, and the Empire will be sundered ! T hear, day after day, the plaintive voice of Jre- land, crying, Am I to be kept forever waiting and forever suffering? No, fellow-countrymen, you will be left to suffer no longer: you will not have in vain asked justice from a people of brothers. England is no longer that country of prejudices where the mere name of popery excited every breast and impelled to iniquitous cruelties. The representatives of Ireland have carried the Reform bill, which has enlarged the franchises of the Eng- lish people; they will be heard with favor in asking their colleagues to render justice to Treland. But should it prove otherwise, should Parliament still continue deaf to our prayer, then we will appeal to the English nation, and if the nation too should suffer itself to be blinded by its prejudices, we will enter the fastnesses of our mountains and take counsel but of our energy, our courage, and our despair. DANIEL O'CONNELL. ON PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. T is asked, whether liberty has not gained much of late years, and whether the popular branch ought not therefore to be content? To this, I answer that, if liberty has gained much, power has gained more. Power has been indefatigable, and unwearied in its encroachments; everything has run in that direction through the whole course of the present reign. Nothing, ee “ ei e ee A Pa ee he | nf 4. ye. sy a c F e Seas |Ge Aen Oe pat yEa te BAO et ha Snel a cians ee ee ee te | { i ¥ ; i f i f ; i Sn EO ee ke iiee ee etek aad CP LS Me Stblietinad 2199 684 therefore, I say, has been gained to the people, whilst the constant current has run towards the crown; and God knows what is to be the conse- quence, both to the crown and the country. I be- lieve we are come to the last moment of possible remedy. I believe that at this moment the ene- mies of both are few; but I firmly believe, that what has been seen in Ireland, will be experienced also here; and that, if we are to go in the same career With convention bills and acts of exaspera- tion of all kinds, the few will soon become the many, and that we shall have to pay a severe retri- bution for our present pride. What a noble lord said some time ago of France, may be applicable to this very subject. What, said he, negotiate with France? With men, whose hands are reeking with the blood of their sovereign? What, shall we degrade ourselves by going to Paris, and there asking in humble diplomatic language to be on good understanding with them? Gentlemen will remember these lofty words; and yet we have come to this humiliation; we have negotiated with France! and I shall not be sur- prised to see the noble lord himself going to Paris, not at the head of his regiment, but on a diplomatic commission to those very regicides, to pray to be on a good understanding with them. Shall we then be blind to the lessons, which the events of the world exhibit to our view? Pride, obstinacy, and insult, must end in concessions, and those concessions must be humble in proportion to our unbecoming pride. CHARLES JAMES FOX. DEFENCE FROM THE CHARGE OF TYRANNY. HEY call me a tyrant! If I were so, they would fall at my feet; Ishould have vorged them with gold, assured them of impunity to their crimes, and they would have worshipped me. Had I been so, the kings whom we have con- quered would have been my most cordial support- ers. Itis by the aid of scoundrels you arrive at tyranny. Whither tend those who combat them? To the tomb and immortality! Who is the tyrant that protects me? What is the faction to which I belong? It is yourselves! What is the party which, since the commencement of the Revolution, has crushed all other factions—has annihilated so many specious traitors? It is yourselves; it is the people, it is the force of principles! This is the party to which I am devoted, and against which crime is everywhere leagued, [ am ready to lay down my life without regret. I have seen the past; I foresee the future. What lover of his country would wish to live, when he can no longer succor oppressed innocence? | ? } MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. Why should he desire to remain in an order of things where intrigue eternally triumphs over truth—where justice is deemed an imposture— where the vilest passions, the most ridiculous fears, fill every heart, instead of the sacred interests of humanity? Who can bear the punishment of seeing the horrible succession of traitors, more or less skilful in concealing their hideous vices under the mask of virtue, and who will leave to posterity the difficult task of determining which was the most atrocious? In contemplating the multitude of vices which the Revolution has let loose pell-mell with the | civic virtues, I own I sometimes fear that I myself | shall be sullied in the eyes of posterity by their calumnies. t | But I am consoled by the reflection hat, if I have seen in history all the defenders of iberty overwhelmed by calumny, I have seen their oppressors die also. The good and the bad disap pear alike from the earth; but in very different conditions. No, Chaumette! “Death is nof an eternal sleep!’—Citizens, efface from the tombs that maxim, engraven by sacrilegious hands, which throws a funeral pall over nature, which discour- ages oppressed innocence: write rather, “ Death is the commencement of immortality!” I leave to the oppressors of the people a terrible legacy, which well becomes the situation in which I am placed; it is the awful truth, “ Thou shalt die!” ROBESPIERRE THE CRATER OF VESUVIUS. HE first thing that I came upon here was the great crater of the eruption of 1794~-- now dry and scorious, and black as a bosom in which sensual passion has burnt itself to Though crusted over and closed, it was steaming and smoking through sundry aper- tures. Traversing it, I arrived at the large crater of 1850—a still raw and open ulcer of earth. The wind was blowing from us, and the circumstances were favorable for viewing the cavity. It was filled with a dense volume of white gas, which was whirling and rapidly ascending; but the breeze occasionally drove it to the opposite side and dis. closed the depths of the frightful chasm. It de scended a prodigious distance, in the shape of ar inverted, truncated cone, and then terminated in a circular opening. The mysteries of the profound immensity be- yond, no buman eye might see, no human heart conceive. We hurled some stones into the gulf and listened till they struck below. The guide gravely assured me that ten minutes elapsed before the sound was heard; I found by the watch, that the interval was, in reality, something over three quarters of a minute ;—and that seems almost ip exhaustion.MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. 685 cedibly long. When the vapor, at intervals, so far thinned away that one could see across, as through a vista, the opposite side of the crater, viewed athwart the mist, seemed several miles distant, though in fact but a few hundred feet. The in- terior of the shelving crater was entirely covered over with a bed of knob-like blossoms of brilliant white, yellow, green, red, brown—the sulphurous flowers of hell. I cannot describe this spectacle, for, in impres- sion and appearance alike, it resembles nothing else that I have seen before or since. It was like death—which has no similitudes in life. It was like a vision of the second death. As the sun gleamed at times through the white breath that swayed and twisted about the maw of the accursed monstrosity, there seemed to be an activity in the vaulted depth; but it was the activity of shadows in the concave of nothingness. It seemed the emblem of destruction, itself extinct. There was something about it revolting!y beautiful, disgust- ingly splendid. One while, its circling rim looked like the parched shore of the evyer-absorbing and ever-empty sea of annihilation. Another while, it seemed like a fetid cancer on the breast of earth, destined one day to consume it. To me it was purely uncomfortable and wholly uninspiring. It seemed to freeze back fancy and sentiment to their sources. It was not terrible, it was merely horri- ble. Itis a thing to see once, but I care not to see such a thing again in this world; and Jesus grant that I may see nothing like it in the next. HORACE B, WALLACE. ON THE FUNERAL OF HENRIETTA. T is not surprising that the memory of a great queen—the daughter, the w1 fe, the mother of monarchs—should attract you from all quar- ters to this melancholy ceremony ; it will bring forcibly before your eyes one of those awful examples which demonstrate to the world the vanity of which it is composed. You will see in her single life the extremes of things: felicity without bounds, miseries without parallel; a long and peaceable enjoyment of one of the most noble crowns in the universe—all that birth and grandeur could confer that was glorious —all that adversity and suffering could accumulate that was disastrous; the good cause attended at first with some success, then involved in the most dreadful disasters. Revolutions unheard of, rebel- lion long restrained, at length reigned tri- umphant; no curb there to license, no laws in force. Majesty itself violated by bloody hands— usurpation as tyranny, under the name of liberty —a, fugitive queen, who can find no retreat in her three kingdoms, and was forced to seek in her aative country a melancholy exile. Nine sea voy- ages undertaken against her will by a queen, in spite of wintry tempests—a throne unworthily overturned, and miraculously re-established. Behold the lesson which God has given to kings ! thus does He manifest to the world the nothingness of its pomp and grandeur. If our words fail, if language sinks beneath the grandeur of such a subject, the simple narrative is more touching than aught that words can convey. Theheart of a great queen, formerly elevated by so long a course of prosperity, then steeped in all the bitterness of afilic- tion, will speak in sufficiently touching language ; and if it is not given to private individuals to teach the proper lessons from so mournful a catas- trophe, the King of Israel has supplied the words —“‘Hear, O ye great of the earth! Take lesson, ye rulers of the world!” SUET. WHERE IS THE ENEMY? HAVE somewhere read of a regiment ordered to march into a small town, and takeit. I think it was in the Tyrol; but, wherever it was, it chanced that the place was settled by a colony who believed the Gospel of Christ, and proved their faith by works. A courier from a neighboring village informed them that troops were advancing to take the town. They quietly answered, “If they will take it, they must.” Sol- diers soon came riding in, with colors flying, and fifes piping their shrill defiance. They looked around for an enemy, and saw the farmer at his plough, the blacksmith at his anvil, and the women at their churns aud spinning-wheels, Babies crowded to hear the music, and boys ran out to see the pretty trainers, with feathers and bright buttons—‘ the harlequins of the nineteenth cen- tury.’ Of course none of these were in a proper position to be shot at. ‘‘ Where are your soldiers ?””’ they asked. “ We have none,” was the brief reply. “But we have come to take the town.” “ Well, friends, it lies before you.” “ But is there nobody here to fight?” “No, we are all Christians.” fere was an emergency altogether unprovided for—a sort of resistance which no bullet could hit, a fortress perfectly bomb-proof. The commander yas perplexed. “If there is nobody to fight with, of course we cannot fight,” said he: “itis impos- sible to take such a town as this.” So he orderef the horses’ heads to be turned about, and they cat ried the human animals out of the village as guiltless as they entered, and perchance somewhat wiser. a This experiment, on a small scale, indicates how easy it would be to dispense with armies and navies, if men only had faith in the religion they profess to believe, LYDIA MARIA CHILD, aa | ees : A va | | x | Be | rh q Bi : bY Be ees | 4 i Pe 7ae a alee “ee oo a | { : 3 ; H cites Gm tre denne ketene SR Seebicint Phi G F we of this city enjoy, in this respect, | any peculiar Bae eces—if it is a privilege that any poor man here, with ordinary © health in his £ amily, and the ordinary bless- ing of God upon his int lustry, may give to his son, without a ng him away from home, the best education which the country affords—if it is a privilege to us to live in a city in which learning ty OL : ot eat sound and thorough education, 1s, equally WIiA { — 4 hisa eommerce and the mechanic arts, a great public interest—if it is a pr! Nene to us to record among our fellow-citizens some of the brightest names 1n the learning and science, not of our country only, but of the age, a to be conversant with such men, and subject to their constant influence in the various eae of society—if it is a privilege that our young mechanics, in their associations, ean receive instruction in popular lectures from 1 the most accomplishe 1d teachers—if, in a word, home at one of there is any pri vilege in having our home at the fountains of life for this vast confederacy —the¢ 1 . 1. . < C ~ privilege may be traced to the influence of John i o Dave nport, to the peculiar character woicen he, more than any other man, gave to this ¢ ymmunity . “ . . Bo gate peters = = ie Jian Le in 1ts Pe Aonink Every one of us 1s dally Ly a Se aed ola en a . enjoying oe e effects of his wisaom and kam 1e is to-day our benefactor; and tl rity iureae — spirit. Thus he is to be the benefactor of our poste ases to come. How aptly might that beautifu ' apostrophe of one of our poets have beet addressed to him :— “The good begun by thee shall onw ard flow In many a bré anching stream, and wider grow; The seed that in these few and fleeting hours, Thy ee Tee and unwearied, sow, Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, eg yield thee fruit divine in heayen’s immortal bowers.”’ LEONARD BACON. WRONGS OF IRELAND. \ a ERE AF TER » W hen these th i ngs shall be history, your age of thra ldom and poy- erty, your sudden resurrection, com- mercial redress, and miraculous armament, shall the historian stop to dec here the principal men amongst us fell into mimic traces of gratitude: they were awed by a weak ministry, and bribed: by an empty treasury; and when liberty was within their grasp, and the tem- ple opened her folding-doors, and the arms of the people clanged, and the zeal of the nation urged ond encouraged them on, and they fell down, and they were prostituted at the threshold, } | for nothing but to breathe | | | | | | | i 686 MASTERPIECES OF ELOQUENCE. shape of an amendment: neither, speaking for the subjects’ freedom, am I to hear of faction. I wish 1 this our island, im , the air of liberty ; the ambition to common with my fellow-subject [ have no ambition, unless it i break your chains, and contemplate your glory. I never will be satisfied as long as the meanest cot- tager in Ireland has a link of British chain clanging in his rags: he may he naked, he shall not beinirons. And I do see the time is at hand, the spirit is gone forth, the declaration is plante .d: and though great men should apostatize, yet the cause will live: and though the public speaker should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the organ which conveyed it, and the breath of liberty like the word of the holy man, shall not die witl the prophet, but survive him. HENRY GRATTAN. THE RURAL DISTRICTS OUR COUN- TRY’S STRENGTH. 18 [E importance of the progress and improve- 64 ment of the country towns is plain, when @E we consider that here, and not in the great cities—New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia—are the hope, strength, and glory of our nation. Here, inthe smaller towns and villages, are indeed the majority of the people, and here there is a weight of sober thought, just judgment, and virtuous feel- ing, that will serve as rudder and ballast to our country, whatever weather may betide. As I | have so recently trave lled through some of the finest. and most renowned portions of the Euro- pean continent, I find myself constantly comparing the towns and villages which [ see here with thuse foreign lands. One thing is clear, that there are in continental Europe no such country towns and villages as those of New England and some other portions of this country. Not only the exterior but the interior is totally different. The villages resemble the squalid suburbs of a city; the people are like their houses—poor and subservient—narrow in intellect, feeling, and habits of thought. I know twenty townsin France, having from two to ten ca sand inhabitants, where, if you except the prel ects are notaries, and a few other persons in ach place, there is scarcely a family that rises to the least independence of thought, orevena moderate eleva- tion of character. All the power, all the thought, all the genius, all the expanse of intellect, are cen- tered at Paris. The blood of this country is drawn to this seat and ose leaving the limbs and members cold and pulseless as those of a corpse. How different is it in this country! The life, vigor, power of these United States are diffused through a thousand veins and arteries over the whole people, every limb nourished, every membe1 I will not be answered by a public lie in the | invis gorated! New York , Philadelphia, and BostonMASTERPIECES do not give law to this country ; that comes from the people—the farmers, mechanics, manufacturers, merchants—independent in their circumstances, and sober, religious, virtuous in their habits of thought and conduct. I make allowance for the sinister influence of vice which abounds in some places; for the debasing effects of demagogism in our politicians; for the corruption of selfish and degrading interests, cast into the general current of public feeling and opinion. I admit that these sometimes make the nation swerve, for atime, from the path of wisdom; but the wandering is neither wide norlong. The prepondering national mind is just and sound, and,if danger comes, it will manifest its power and avert it. SAMUEL G. GOODRICH. bifkt ON THE NILE. The life thou seek’st Thou’lt find beside the eternal Nile. MOORE’S ALCIPHRON. HE Nile is the Paradise of travel. I thought [ had already fathomed all the depths of en- joyment which the traveller’s restless life could reach—enjoyment more varied and exciting, but far less serene and enduring, than that of a quiet home; but here I have reached a fountain too pure and powerful to be exhausted. I never before experienced such a thorough deliverance from all the petty annoyances of travel in other lands, such perfect contentment of spirit, such en- tire abandonment to the best influences of nature, Every day opens with a jubilee, and closes wivu a thanksgiving. Ifsuch a balm and blessing as this life has been to me, thus far, can be felt twice in one’s existence, there must be another Nile some- where in the world. Other travellers undoubtedly make other experi- ences and take away other impressions. I can even conceive circumstances which would almost de- stroy the pleasure of the journey. ‘The same exquisitely sensitive temperament, which in our case has not been disturbed, a single untoward in- cident, might easily be kept in a state of constant derangement by an unsympathetic companion, a cheating dragoman, or afractious crew. ‘here are also many trifling disagreements, inseparable from life in Egypt, which some would consider a source of annoyance; but, as we find fewer than we were prepared to meet, we are not troubled thereby. Our manner of life is simple, and might even be called monotonous; but we have never found the greatest variety of landscape and incident s0 thoroughly enjoyable. The scenery of the Nile, thus far, scarcely changes from day to day, in its forms and colors, but only in their disposition with regard to each other. The shores are either palm- OF ELOQUENCE. . 687 groves, fields of cane and dourra, young wheat, or patches of bare sand blown out from the desert. The villages are all the same agglomerations of mud walls, the tombs of the Moslem saints are the same white ovens, and every individual camel and buffalo resembles its neighbor in picturesque ugliness. The Arabian and Libyan Mountains, - now sweeping so far into the foreground that their yellow cliffs overhang the Nile, now receding into the violet haze of the horizon, exhibit little differ- ence of height, hue, or geological formation. Every new scene is the turn of a kaleidoscope, in which the same objects are grouped in other relations, yet always characterized by the most perfect har- mony. These slight yet ever-renewing changes are to us a source of endless delight. Either from the pure atmosphere, the healthy life we lead, or the accordant tone of our spirits, we find ourselves unusually sensitive to all the slightest touches, the most minute rays, of that grace and harmony which bathes every landscape in cloudless sun- shine. The various groupings of the palms, the shifting of the blue evening shadows on the rose- hued mountain-walls, the green of the wheat and sugar-cane, the windings of the great river, the alternations of wind and calm—each of these is enough to content us, and to give every day a dif- ferent charm from that which went before. We meet contrary winds, calms, and sand-bags, without our patience; and even our excitement in the swiftness and grace with which our vessel scuds be- fore the north wind is mingled with a regret that our journey is drawing so much the more swiftly to its close. A portion of the old Egyptian repose seems to be infused into our natures; and lately, when I saw my face in a mirror I though I per- . ceived in its features something of the patience and resignation of the sphinx. BAYARD TAYLOR. OXFORD BOAT-RACE. oe OING into Christ Church Meadows, in 5 , company with several gownosmen, we 5. soon joined a crowd of under-graduates and others who were seeking the banks of the Isis. The rival boats were still far up the stream; but here we found their flags displayed upon a staff, one above the other, in the order of their respective merit at the last rowing-match. The flag of Wad- ham waved triumphant, and the brilliant colors of Balliol, Christ Church, Exeter, etc., fluttered scarce less proudly underneath. What an animated scene those walks and banks exhibited, as the numbers thickened, and the flaunting robes of the young academics began to be seen in dingy contrast with the gayer silks and streamers of thegt ee bela do ee Ps ae Pom. | | : y H 3 i i nh eee Peel Pe oe a ee sh 8 Su ROM PLONE 688 MASTERPIECES iair! Even town, as well as gown, had sent forth its representatives, and you would have said some mighty issue was about to be decided, had you heard their interchange of breathless query and reply. A distant gun announced that the boats had started, and crowds began to gather about a bridge in the neighboring fields, where it was certain they would soon be seen, in all the speed and spirit of the contest. Crossing the little river in a punt, and yielding to the enthusiasm which now filled the hearts and faces of all spectators, away I flew toward the bridge, and had scarcely gained it when the boatsappeared— Wadham still ahead, but hotly pressed by Balliol, which in turn was closely followed by the crews of divers other colleges, all pulling for dear life, while their friends on either bank, ran at their side, shouting the most inspiriting outcries ! The boats were of the sharpest and narrowest pos- sible build, with out-rigged thole-pins for the oars. The rowers, in proper boat-dress, or rather undress (close-fitting flannel shirt and drawers), were lash- ing the water with inimitable strokes, and “ putting their back” into their sport, as if every man was indeed determined to do his duty. “Now, Wad- ham!” “ Now, Balliol!” “ Well pulled, Christ Church !”’ with deafening hurrahs and occasional peals of Taughter, make the welkin ring again. I found myself running and shouting with the merriest of them. Several boats were but a few feet apart, and, stroke after stroke, not one gained upon another perceptibly. Where there was the least gain, it was astonishing to see the pluck with which both winner and loser seemed to start afresh ; while redoubled eries of “ Now for it, Merton!” “ Well done, Corpus !” and even “Go it again!” —which I had supposed an Americanism—were vociferated from the banks. All at once—‘a bump!” and the defeated boat fell aside, while the victors pressed on amid roars of applause. The chief interest, however, was, of course, concen- trated about “ Wadham,” the leader, now evidently gained upon by “ Balliol.” It was indeed most ex- citing to watch the half-inch losses which the former was experiencing atevery stroke. The goal was near; but the plucky Balliol crew was not to be distanced. A stroke or two of fresh animation and energy sends their bow an arm’s-length for- ward. “Hurrah, Balliol!”—‘‘Once more!”— —“‘A bump!”—‘ Hurrah-ah-ah!”—and a general cheer from all lungs, with hands waving and caps tossing, and everything betokening the wildest excitement of spirits, closed the contest; while amid the uproar the string of flags came down from the tall staff, and soon went up again, with several transpositions of the showy colors— Wadham’s little streamer now fluttering pawlopost, but victorious Balliol flaunting proudly over all. i was growing dark; and it was surprising how OF ELOQUENCE. speedily the crowd dispersed, and how soon all that frenzy of excitement had vanished like the bubbles on the river. ARTHUR CLEVELAND COXE. DANGER OF MILITARY SUPREMACY. “4 ECALL to your recollection the free na- y tions which have gone before us. Where are they now? “ (Jone glimmering through the dream of things £ £ that were, The school boy’s tale, the wonder of an hour.” ~ ) And how have they lost their liberties? If we could transport ourselves to the ages when Greece and Rome flourished in their greatest prosperity, and, mingling in the throng, should ask a Grecian, if he did not fear that some daring military chief- tain, covered with glory, some Philip or Alexander, would one day overthrow the liberties of his coun- try, the confident and indignant Grecian would exclaim, “No! no! we have nothing to fear from our heroes; our liberties will be eternal” Ifa Roman citizen had been asked, if he did not fear that the conqueror of Gaul might establish a throne upon the ruins of public liberty, he would have instantly repelled the unjust insinuation. Yet Greece fell; Caesar passed the Rubicon, and the patriotic arm even of Brutus could not preserve the liberties of his devoted country! We are fighting a great moral battle, for the benefit, not only of our country, but of all man- kind. The eyes of the whole world are in fixed attention upon us, One, and the largest portion of it, is gazing with contempt, with jealousy, and with envy; the other portion, with hope, with con- fidence, and with affection. Everywhere the black cloud of legitimacy is suspended over the world, save only one bright spot, which breaks out from the political hemisphere of the west, to enlighten and animate, and gladden the human heart. Ob- serve that, by the downfall of liberty here, all mankind are enshrouded in a pall of universal darkness. To you belongs the high privilege of transmitting, unimpaired, to posterity, the ‘air character and liberty of our country. Do you ex pect to execute this high trust, by trampling, or suffering to be trampled down, law, justice, the constitution, and the rights of the people? by ex- hibiting examples of inhumanity, and cruelty, and ambition? Beware how you give a fatal sanction, in this infant period of our republic, scarcely yet two-score years old, to military insubordination. Remember that Greece had her Alexander, Rome her Cesar, England her Cromwell, France her Bonaparte, and that if we would escape the rock on which they spilt, we must avoid their errors, HENPY CLAY®,EVERYDAY HAND-BOOK. Latest Events—National Legislation—Handy Facts—Diseases and their Kemedies—Poisons and their Antidotes—Weather Forecasts, Ete. ©* March 4, 1893, Grover Cleveland entered for | 140, having been modified in only one important the second time upon his duties as President of the United States. The ceremonies of inauguration drew visitors to Washington from all parts of the country, and were of the usual imposing character. Mr. Cleveland announced the members of his Cabinet as follows: Secretary of State, Walter QO. Gresham, of Illinois ; Secretary of the Treasury, John G. Carlisle, of Kentucky; Secretary of War, Daniel S. Lamont, of New York; Attorney-General, Richard Olney, of Massachusetts; Postmaster-General, Wilson S. Bissell, of New York; Secretary of the Navy, Hilary A. Herbert, of Alabama; Secretary of the Interior, Hoke Smith, of Georgia; Secretary of Agriculture, Julius S. Morton, of Nebraska. Congress was called together in extraordinary session August 7, 1893, and received a message from President Cleveland. The main object of the message was to recommend the immediate repeal of what was known as the Sherman law, relating to the purchase of silver by the government for coinage. ‘The session was pre- ceded by a period of great financial depression, the closing of many manufacturing establishments and a general disturbance of the industrial and business interests of the country. obnoxious law was introduced into the House of Representatives by Hon. William L, Wilson, of West Virginia, and, after brief discussion, was promptly passed by a large majority August 28th. The bill then went to the Senate, where a protracted struggle ensued, attended at times by bitter personali- | ties, and by ‘‘filibustering’? on the part of the minority, thereby preventing the majority from declar- ing its expressed will. At length the bill passed the Senate October 30th by a vote of 43 to 32. The second session of the Fifty-third Congress began on the first Monday of December, 1893. The most important business was the passage of the Tariff Bill. The new Tariff Bill derived its name from Mr. Wilson, Chairman of the Ways and Means Committee. Preliminary work was begun upon the bill by the Ways and Means Committee of the House in October, 1893, during the extra session called by the President for the repeal of the Sherman Silver Act. It was reported to the House on December 19th, and on January 3, 1894, it began to be discussed in that body. A bill for the repeal of the | [t passed the House February tst by a vote of 204 to 4+ feature—sugar being made free of duty. On the 2d of February it was reported to the Senate, and at once referred to the Finance Committee. Promptly on receiving the Wilson Bill, the Finance Committee gave over its task to a sub-committee, consisting of Mills, Jones and Vest, who completed a bill on tariff-reform lines, making few changes in the Wilson Bill. This was reported to the full committee on February 26th. Thereupon Mr. Gorman called together the Democratic caucus to instruct the sub- committee to reconstruct the bill so that it would suit the Protectionist Democratic Senators. Over Six Hundred Amendments. The sub-committee made a new bill, ‘‘amending” the Wilson Bill in several hundred particulars, and altering its character in a Protectionist sense. It was reported to the Senate on March 2oth, but was still unsatisfactory. On May 5th, Mr. Gorman called another caucus, after which, on May 8th, some four hundred new amendments were reported. ‘* The Senate Bill’’ had assumed its final form. Or July 3d it passed the Senate, and on the 7th—the House rejecting the 634 Senate amendments in gross— consideration of points of disagreement between the two Houses was begun in the conference committee. The Senate conferees presented an ultimatum—“ the Senate Bill as it is or no tariff legislation.”’ The House conferees demanded free raw materials and no protection for sugar, butin vain. On July roth, Mr. Wilson reported the continued disagreement to the House, at the same time making public the Presi- dent’s letter insisting on free raw materials. In the Senate Mr. Gorman replied in a defiant speech, full of personal flings. After a week of sensations, Senator Hill’s proposai to recede from the amendments putting a duty on ore and coal was voted down and the bill sent back to conference. After some further dickering by the ‘“compromisers,’’? and an attempt on the part of Mr. Hill to kill the bill in the Senate, the House became alarmed at the supposed prospect of failure of all tariff legislation, and on August 13th passed the Senate Bill. On the same day the House passed four bills, putting sugar, coal, ore and barbed wire on the free list, but they were not acted on by the Senate. The President neither signed nor vetoed the Tarif? 689 = Eye ec Ot Boone vacancy. REMEDIES. Don’t attend funerals from any of these from all houses in If any of these diseases, present. diseases. Keep children away which these diseases prevail. to which children are subject, are epidemic in a town, keep your children from day and Sabbath-schools, from churches, and all assemblies. Be sure a t the water you drink is pure; to be suspected. well water In travelling, it is safest to drink only boiled water, such as one gets in tea and coffee, When buying or renting a house always ask if is always*t has been free for the past two years from all these contagious diseases, and demand a written guarantee. Educate the people of your neighborhood as to the nature of these diseases, and what they should do when they occur. Aid in establishing a local board of health, and see that your community has laws in reference to clean- iiness, private funerals, the isolation of those sick of contagious diseases, and the closing of schools and churches against those living in houses in which any contagious disease prevails, The country privy and the city cesspool should be abolished everywhere absolutely. The most scrupulou ] enforced everywhere. When contagious diseases pre- vail, do not send your clothing to the public laundries. There should be a notice on every house in which there is a contagious diseasv, so that the public may be warned to remain away. If one is required to be about. person sick witha contagious disease, he should eat his meals regularly, take exercise in the open ait each day, get his usual amount of sleep, and dismiss ali over-anxiety as to the danger of contagion. But he must avoid the special poison. Do not take the breath of the sick one. Do not touch with the lips any food, drink, cup, spoon, or anything else that the sick person has touched, or that has been in the sick room. Do not wipe your face or hands with any cloth that has been on or near the sick person. Do not wear any clothing the sick person has worn during, just before, or just after his sickness. Keep your hands free from any discharges from the body or skin of the sick person, and if they do becomie soiled, wash them soon 1s possible in water containing a solution of chloride of lime. Do not touch the sick with sore or scratched hands. Particularly avoid receiving into the body through the mouth or nose any of the scales or scabs from the skin of those sick or recovering from scarlet fever or small-pox. Con- sumptives should spit on rags and these should be burned. ‘Their sputa should never be eaten by chickens or other domestic animals, as there is reason to believe that they will infect them, and they in turn, through their meat, human beings. Whenever a place is threatened with an epidemic of any contagious disease, the local board of health, or the town council, should appoint a few discreet persons who should go from house to house and instruct the people in what they should do to avoid the threatened danger. This should be done without creating any alarm. ‘The town should be thoroughly and scientifi- cally cleaned and disinfected, and the condition of the drinking water examined by an expert. The foregoing were the wise precautions recom- mended for the prevention of contagious diseases, end fer remedying them after breaking out, w cleanliness must be . IMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE, ~~ Precautions in the Sick Room. ™ side ata ast E The sick chamber should be as large, airy pleasant as possible. It should be in a part of th < tTharea aa 114 4 house where as much quiet as possible may be secured. in contagious diseases it is best to have the sick room in the upper part of the house, so that the air from it will not mingle so much with the air of the house The room should have means for free ventilation oD without the production of draugk. J). unn ‘<< Ps Ps he = a ees Sie . me. | cro Cen eee SR as oe eo < eee ees Ce IER RT aM Di RA TG Mt Ee ee, F? “= ek ee Se ate S he pant Re a Se eee Ss - E Et re a AS nnn eS ee eee Pe a ea eeeeho Oe ai acl te Ne oD i 4 f 3 f : } Ae ke ee te eee il at Sa 1 OP RORY 692 careful of exposing himself for some weeks, until his strength is fully recovered. Precautions in Regard.to Burials. After death the body should at once be wrapped in a sheet saturated with a solution of corrosive sublimate {standard solution, No. 2) and buried as soon as possi- ble. The funerals should be private. Newspapers should, in notices of death, mention disease, that peo- ple may remain away. Undertakers should not fur- nish chairs at funerals of those who have died from contagious diseases, and such articles as they regularly ase in their business, if taken to such a house, should be washed with a solution of corrosive sublimate before being used elsewhere. Disinfection After Recovery or Death. this work should be done thoroughly, and generally it will be best done by an intelligent person who has had experience init. Burn as many articles about the sick as are not too expensive. Standard Disinfecting Solutions. I. STANDARD SOLUTION, NO. 1.—Dissolve chlor- ide of lime or bleaching powder of the best quality containing at least twenty-five per cent. of available chlorine) in soft water in the proportion of four ounces to the gallon. 2. STANDARD SOLUTION No. 2.—Dissolve corrosive sublimate and permanganate of potash in soft water, in the proportion of two drachms of each salt to the gallon. (NoTH—-1. This solution is highly poisonous. 2. It requires a contact of one hour to be efficient. 3. It destroys lead pipes. 4. It is without odor.) 3. STANDARD SOLUTION, No. 3.—TIo one part of Tabarraque’s solution (dzguor sodeé chlorate—v. 5. P.) of hypochlorite of soda add five parts of soft water. (NotE.—Competent authority has pronounced this superior to all other disinfectants. ) 4. STANDARD SOLUTION, No. 4.—Dissolve corro- sive sublimate in water, in the proportion of four ounces to the gallon, and add one drachm of perman- ganate of potash to give color to the solution as a precaution against poisoning. One fluid ounce of this solution to a gallon of water is sufficiently strong. Articles should be left in it fortwohours. One gallon of standard solution, No. 1, may also be mixed with nine gallons of water, and used in the same way. No article should be allowed to leave the infected room until it has been either disinfected or boiled. (Not#.—Corrosive sublimate solution should be tept in wooden or crockery vessels. ) Disinfectants are of special service during warm umimer weather. Eee ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. To Disinfect Discharges From the Patient. Use standard solutions, Nos. I, 2, or 3, keeping a pint of the solution used constantly in the vessel ready for any emergency. Let the discharges be passed directly into the solution, then let a pint more of it be added, and let the whole stand some time to be thoroughly acted upon before being thrown into the sewer or being buried. ‘These discharges should never be thrown into a privy or cesspool, nor into a running stream, nor on the surface of the ground. To Disinfect Clothing, Bedding, and Such Textile Fabrics as Can Be Washed. Burn as much as possible. Use standard solution, No. 4, one ounce to the gallon of water, or use one gallon of solution No. 1, in nine gallons of water. Let the goods soak in the solution for at least three hours before they leave the room. Stir them up so that the colution gets all through the goods. After disinfection, boil the goods thoroughly. For Disinfection of Water-Closets, Sinks and Cesspools. s. CARBOLIC ACID SOLUTION.—Mix one pint of carbolic acid with two and a half gallons of water. Standard solution, No. 4, diluted with three parts of water, may also be used in the proportion of one gallon (of the solution) to every four (estimated ) of the contents of the vault. Standard solution, No. I, would require to be used gallon for gallon of the material to be disinfected. Dry chloride of lime may be sprinkled over the contents of a privy, or standard solution, No. 2, may be made up by the barrel, and four or five gallons be applied daily during an epidemic. To Disinfect the Sick Chamber. The room must be vacated. The paper should all be carefully scraped from the walls. ‘Thorough venti- lation for several days, and thorough washing of all surfaces with one of the disinfecting solutions, say, one pint of standard solution, No. 4, to four gallons of water, or a quarter of a pint of solution of hypochlorite of soda toa gallon of water. The walls and ceiling, if plastered, should be washed with this, and then whitewashed. All dust must be carefully washed (not brushed or swept) away from ledges, cracks, corners and crevices. Sulphur Fumigation. To use this effectively, two pounds of sulphur should be burned in a room ten feet square, Every opening in the room—flues, doors, windows, cracks and crev- ices—mus‘ be closed, except the door by which thedisinfector % to escape; closet doors and bureau drawers should be opened wide, and all woolen articles in the room during the sickness, hung on lines, being spread out and opened up as much as possible. The sulphur is to be burned in an iron kettle or other vessel set in a tub containing a little water to guard against fire. A little alcohol or kerosene must be poured upon the sulphur, by means of which it may de ignited. Leave the room quickly, for the fumes are highly poisonous when breathed, and close the door tightly. Let the room remain closed twenty-four hours or more. Then air thoroughly for several days, Cancer. ancer is defined by writers as a painful scirrhus tumor, terminating in an ulcer. It usually attacks the glandular portions of the body, or parts which con- tain them. The external parts most liable to its attacks are the lips, eyes, nose, tongue, the glands of the neck, breast and genital organs. The internal parts most liable to cancer are the stomach, liver, uterus, or womb, and ovaries. This éisease originates in the glandular parts, yet when it ulcerates, and commences eating, it corrodes and destroys everything in its course. Before ulcera- tion the tumor is usually called a scirrhus ; but when attended with peculiar burning, shooting or darting pains, with an unequal surface, and discoloration of the skin, and it takes on a dusty, purple, or livid hue, it is called a Malignant scirrous, or confirmed cancer. When thus far advanced in the female breast, the tumor sometimes increases speedily to a great size, with a knotty, unequal surface; the surrounding glands become obstructed, the nipple sinks in, turgid veins are conspicuous, ramifying around, and resemb- ling crab’s claws, and the tumor feels hard and unyielding to the fingers. ‘These are the usual symptoms of an external cancer, and we have reason to suspect the existence of one internally, when such peculiar weat a .d pains as have been described succeed in parts where the patient before has been sensible of weight and pressure, attended with an obtuse pain. A cancerous tumor never melts down in suppuration or gues away like an inflammatory tumor; but when teady to break open—especially in the female breast— it generally becomes prominent in minute points, with an increase of the peculiar kind of shooting pains, which before were only felt at intervals. Cancerous ulcers discharge a thin, fcetid, acrid, sanious water, which corrodes the parts over which if runs. they have thick, dark-colored, retorted lips, and fungous excrescences often arise from them, notwith- standing the corrosiveness of the discharge. In this state they are often attended with excruciating, pun- gent, lancinating, burning pains, and sometimes with IMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE, hemorrhage or bleeding. Both internal and 2xternal remedies are required. The patient should resort to a specialist who fully understands the best treatment for this disease. Typhoid Fever. Typhoid fever is a very treacherous disease, whose termination can never be forseen with certainty. Ih may be prevented by prompt disposal of all decom- posing substances, such as diseased meat, tainted sausage, spoiled fish, poisoned cheese, contaminated milk or water, by immediate removal and disinfection of the excrements, by thorough cleanliness in every respect, by adherence to a dict of nourishing, easily digestible food, by drinking no water but that which has been boiled, 17 observing regular habits of life, by maintaining good _irits, by refusing to live in any but a healthy house. Scwer ~as, escaping in a house, forms an especia menac- to health. Enough cannot e said by way of warning against excesses, during ‘onvalescence from this disease, in eating arti’ s diff :It to digest, or in partaking of foods and drinks which have a tendency to overheat, to bloat, r toirritate the stomach. Such indulgence not rarely proves fatal. Farthcrmore at this time al? edibles should b av ided which contain ston kernels, skins-and husks, for the passage of these substances through the intestine is liable to tear the tender membrane from freshly healed typhoid ulcers, and even, by opening a passage into the abdominal cavity, to cause fatal » sults. Two methods of prevention, having the same gen- eral object in view, are to be recommended. The first involves the through disinfection of all discharges from the bowels of typoid fever patients. This is best done by the use of a solution of chloride of lime, eight ounces to the gallon of water, using a quart of this solution for each discharge, and allowing it to stand in the vessel at least an hour before emptying. A solu- tion of corrosive sublimate, two drachms to the gallon of water, will answer the same purpose, but requires to remain longer in contact with the material to be disinfected. Bed and body linen soiled by such patients should be disinfected by the use of the same solution or by boiling. The second method relates to avoiding the use of suspicious water, and especially well water, and where this cannot be done, to boiling such water before it is used for drinking purposes. In the absence of a pure and well-guarded public water supply, properly stored cistern water is probably open to least objection. Yellow Fever. Yellow fever occurs only in tropical and sub-tropical countries along the coast aud in the low lands about rivers, but never in mountainous distzicts. The disease gre ama wina le » o Ree ec i A Be BI Oe RC ae este) Pa at a3 . ee) Ee 5 ea ee Se re oe net oa Tao ee ss ree aati natal ee ee eSa eR eee = Ct A : | | : : | i oes Pree kateb etal ee lh ot 5 SA PROSE TTS 694 elim Gl and especially those | to the climate, over- attacks chiefly the unac vo live in a manner unsuitec loading their stomachs with meat and with undigesti- ble fruits, indulging in intoxicating liquors, exposing themselves to the night air and dew, and paying insufficient attention to cleaniness of person, clothing and dwelling. Yellow fever is attended with very rapid oo of the blood, with vomiting of blood, and with jaundic Migration to a mo means of protection < fist + this fever. Those who are the infected locality should at least gh, cool and airy a building upon ntainous region is the surest unable to leave spend their nights in as hi as possible, outside city limits, and preferably ity frequently infested with Mec .eiro, and chiefly for the reasot that et a sandy soil. Av fever is Rio de Jai an overhanging mountain (which, however, sooner or later bt removed) obstructs the access of the trade winds, and so interferes with the ventilation of the city. For persons detained in an intected city by duty or that can be given is to main- tain a cheerful frame of mini; avoid excesses of all necessity the best aavice kinds; keep away from centres of infection (as shown by the occurrence of numerous cases); sleep as far from the ground as possible; keep the bowels open. 4 In malavial localities it is well to take prophylac tic doses of quinine, as an attack of malarial fever, like ) ’ anything else that disturbs the balance of health, is very likely to eventuate in an attack of the prevailing disease. Many cases are of so mild a type that recovery may cumiste unces and even in spite of hervic treatment. O6 Jer end certain cases are of so malignanta eile: that no amount of skill and care can avert a But between these extremes is a c considerable of life and death is in 4 take place under the most adverse c the ot fatal termination. number of cases in which the balance the hands of the attendant. An ill-timed cathartic, a discouraging word, per- mission to sit up, or to partake of solid food, exposure to drafts, in short, many things which to the inexper- ienced may appear trivial, when thrown into the bal- ance, in this disease, may turn the scale to the fatal side. On the contrary, encouraging words to the pa- tient, vigilant supervision of all the sick-room, the timely administration of stimulants, and in short, close attention to all the details of what is known as ‘‘nursing’”’ will tile many a patient over the critical periods of the disease, and save his life. at occurs - the Croup and Diphtheria Croup and diphtheria are very dangerous diseases, whose proper seat is the pharynx, but w hich frequently show a marked tendency tc invade the larynx. They are easily recognized by the grayish-white, mortar- ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. like exudation which appears in patches upon #€ deeply congested mucous membrane. ‘The more coms pletely the mucous membrane of the mouth and throat have been subjected to the ravages of catarrh, so much the more readily will the contagion be received and oe within it. On this account those who are affected with catarrh of the nose, mouth, or hie: aead take especial care against infection: and for the same reason ne diphtheritic patient should by any means allow his throat to be cauterized, for this injures the mucous membrane and spreads the germs of the disease. Inasmuch as diphtheria is a very virulent disease n every instance to a the utmost care should be taken in f against it. we 1oever, for instance, needs to examine the throat of a diphtheritic patient own m tty aud partly stop his After the inspection he should prot ‘ct onese az should close his nostrils wiU’. cotton. wash his hands with a solution of spirits of turpentine or of boracic acid, The sputum of the patient should be disinfected with scrupulous care. Drinking-v essels, spoons and linen from the pe atient must not be used by healthy individuals. One of the greatest dangers of infection lies in kissing the patient, and this must be positively interdicted. Children should be removed from a house where diphtheria exists, or at least com- pletely separated from their sick companions. Pulmonary Consumption. pulmonary consumption, or, iti and development of the The tendency to other words, bacillus which causes this disease, seems to depend to the reception < in an especial manner upon the constant dampness ] I a of earth and air, and upon sudden, extreme, and fre- quent alterations of temperature. The regions where Cc wand does not occur are signalized xe remark- able dryness. A dry, cold climate, or a temperate Dies which possesses the quality of dryness, ap pears to give full -otection against consumption, provided a substantial diet is supplied, a diet nog lacking in heat-produciug material ; while the tropics predispose to this disease, especially among natives of temperate countries. The processes of combustion and of tissue-change do not proceed rapidly in the lungs under tropical influences, but on the contrary a free tissue-waste takes place through the skin and urinary apparatus, while deficiency of appetite and digestive inertia are apt to interfere with the proper renewal of tissu An altitude of two thousand feet above the sea may be regarded in many localities as the limit for the occurrence of consumption. Consumption is found to bear a direct relation in the frequency of its incep- tion to the density of population: hence its frequent occurrence Inheritance, or rather the tendency to inheritance, has been demonstrated ins in cities.fsrge nunfber of instances, and this tendency is chiefly from the father to the daughter and from the mother to the son. Occupying the same bed with phthisical patients and sleeping in the same room are objectionable. Care should be taken to exclude from the table the meat of tuberculous animals. In addition to the purity of milk in other regards, it should be ascer- tained that the supply is not from cows affected with tuberculous disease. The ventilation of apartments occupied by phthisical patients should be attended to with reference to the possibility of the disease being communicated by the inhalation of particles of tuber- cle; and it may not be a needless precaution to intro- duce a disinfectant into the vessels which receive the matter expectorated. The air breathed by a consumptive should always be pure and dry, and should be free from irritating parti- cles. Care should be taken not to constrict the lungs and chest, either by wearing tight-fitting garments, or by bending forward when seated; but, on the con- trary, an effort should be made tosecure the expansion of these organs by suitable gymnastics and other physical exercise. Such efforts at the expansion of the lungs must be undertaken, however, under many precautions and restrictions, and never under any circumstances when the patient is disposed to be feverish. Recent investigations have demonstrated that the bacteria of consumption, like those of the malarial diseases, are especially numerous upon and within the ground, and that bad drainage is no unimportant factor in the production of the disease. An especial reason why no one should use uncooked milk, is that it may be the carrier of consumption, as it is at present known to be of other grave diseases. Hay Fever. Hay fever is a catarrh of the respiratory tract, which is often attended by severe asthmatic symptoms, which seems to result from the irritation caused by the pollen of one or another plant, and which visits the individual only at the season of year when that particular plant is in flower. Rag-weed is the familiar plant to whose influence the disease is most frequently ascribed in America, and, as a consequence most hay fever sufferers are exempt if they pass the period of attack in some region where this weed does not grow. Such localities are found in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the lake region of Maine, in Cali- fornia, in Florida and parts of Georgia, in the copper region south of Lake Superior, and in most sections of Canada, In general an altitude of more than seven hundred feet secures exemption; but some patients are benefited only by a residence upon the seashore ; and all are free while upon the ocean, 00 doubt because {IMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE, 695 the offending vegetation is necessarily far removed, and therefore the main cause is wanting. in the majority of cases this disease obstinately resists medical treatment. Much, however, may often be accomplished by way of palliation, and the treatment of other complaints exercises a beneficial influence upon hay fever. Regularity of life, plain- ness in diet, and especially the following of outdoor pursuits are of assistance in moderating the parox- isms. The severer symptoras may be relieved by such measures as are advised in case of asthia. Dyspepsia. Dyspepsia signifies difficult digestion. When a dis- turbance of digestion occurs, either as a result of general weakness, or in consequence of a catarrhal condition of the stomach induced by eating food too cold or too hot, by alcohol, by spices, or by decaying food, we know that the formation of pepsin is in some way interfered with. In such cases, siuce the effi- ciency of digestion depends largely upon the abund- ance of pepsin, it is desirable to administer artificial pepsin. When the indigestion is of recent origin, it is oftentimes sufficient to evacuate an overloaded stomach by vomiting. If, however, the food eaten has already passed into the intestine, a lixative should be given. A symptom which accompanies dyspepsia in the majority of instances is heartburn, with which is commonly associated a spasmodic sensation at the pit of the stomach, attended with the vomiting of weter. In most instances, too, eructations take place fre- quently of aclear, watery fluid, having a sour or rancid taste. Among the causes to which heartburn may be due are the use of fatty and rancid articles of food, the eating of foods that are sour or that readily turn sour, the presence of stomach affections with increased secretion of acid gastric juice, the formation of lactic and butyric acids in the stomach by an abnormal transformation of starchy elements, and, first perhaps in frequency, chronic catarrh of the gastric mucous membrane in drunkards. For the relief of this distressing symptom treatment must in the first place be directed to the neutralization of the acid by giving after each meal a pinch of mag- nesia or of bicarbonate of soda, and in the second place to the improvement of the mucous membrane of the stomach by meaus of strict diet and by drinking half a glass of hot water before each meal. The prin- cipal object of treatment is not simply to carefully eschew every indigestible substance, but, still farther, to avoid the causes of acidity and fermentation. Cold div 4 meats are generally found more easy of digestion than warm ores. Of exciting causes, errors of diet are amongst tine most constantly operative, and of these errors exCray es a 9" teceraccn a RTI aac ile Pakacg fake paateledd La.) . AUER Siar cia Ke es See ee 28S. bd enenecece ror. ~e 2 PS ee ay eC ee a Terenas a L -ie Se a) es SE Poe ae F696 ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. pt food is doubtless the most common and hurtful. The use of indigestible and unwholesome food entails somewhat the samme consequences. This may consist in the use of food essentially unhealthy or indigestible, or made so by imperfect preparation. Certain sub- stances taken as food cannot be dissolved by the gastric or intestinal secretions: the seeds, the skins and rinds of fruit, the husks of corn, and bran, and gristle, and elastic tissue, as well as hairs in animal food, are thrown off as they are swallowed, and, if taken in excess, they mechanically irritate the gastro- intestinal mucous membrane, and excite symptoms of acute dyspepsia, and not infrequently give rise to eains of a griping character accompanied by diarrhoea. The injurious consequences of overfeeding may mally correct themselves by destroying the capacity af the stomach to digest the food; but on the other uand the weak stomach is not infrequently made weaker by severely restricted regimen, and especially is this the case with mental workers. Men who toil with their brains rather than their muscles, whether dyspeptic or not, require easily digested, mixed diet. Eating in a Hurry. Haste in eating, with imperfect mastication, is a common cause of indigestion in this country. Masti- cation is the first step in the digestive process. It is important, therefore, that we have good teeth and that we take time to thoroughly masticate our food, for by so doing we prepare it for being acted upon by the juices of the stomach. Time is also necessary, in order that the salivary secretion may be incorpo- rated with the alimentary substances. Haste in eating is one of the American vices. Irregularity in the intervals between meals, such as taking a meal only once in twenty-four hours, or taking food before the preceding supply has been digested, is another fruitful source of indigestion. To the most prominent causes of indigestion already alluded to may be added the habit of spirit drinking, especially the habit of taking alcohol undiluted on an empty stomach. All organs associated with each other in their physiological functions are apt to become associated in morbid action. No single measure has such marked influence on the digestive powers of the stomach as systematic, well- regulated muscular exercise in the open air, and especially, if the exercise be accompanied by a cheer- ful mental state. For this reason outdoor sports are of benefit. This is often best accomplished by travel, when practicable, in foreign countries where every- thing will be novel and new and calculated to lead the patient away from himself. Get him to travel, says Watson, in search of his health, and the chances are in favor of his finding it. We have the authority of Sir James Tohnson also for saying that no case of purely functional dyspepséa can resist a nedectrigg tour over the Alps. Rheumatism. Rheumatism is a disease which easily recurs. which is characterized by the frequent migration of its mani- festations from one portion of the body to another, and which is attended by exquisite pain. Its treat- ment calls first for confinement to bed in a warm room, for the drinking of hot water or tea, and for warm wrappings to induce perspiration. The diseased portion should furthermore be encased in hot poul- tices, moist or dry. In spite of this preliminary treat. ment, however, the precaution of summening a physician ought never to be omitted, for rheumatism is a very capricious and exhausting disease, and its extension to nobler organs, and even to the heart, is always to be dreaded. Occupations involving muscular fatigue ur exposure to sudden and extreme changes of temperature, especially during active bodily exertion, predispose to acute articular rheumatism; hence its frequency among cooks, maid-servants, washer-women, smiths, coachmen, bakers, soldiers, sailors, and laborers gen- erally. There is some basis for the opinion that residence in damp, cold dwellings predisposes some- what to rheumatism. Some relief may be afforded by raising the affected limb and putting it in such a position as to reduce the afflux of blood and to relax the tendons and ligaments to their utmost. That holds good for the acute and very painful form, while in the less painful, that is in the chronic form, gymnastics with the affected part, massage, and other exercise render good service. Lemon juice abundantly partaken of mitigates the fever and shortens the average duration of the disease. In this country a manifestion of malarial disease not infrequently takes the form of rheumatic symp- toms, a fact which explains the numerous instan- ces in which the former disease is found to yield to anti-rheumatic remedies. Rheumatism may be prevented by a dry house and dry clothing. When clothing becomes damp, it should not be dried upon the person, but should be changed. Woolen under- wear, so long as it remains dry and clean, affords better protection than any other kind. Cough. Cough is not a disease in itself, but only a symptom which is found to occur in very many ailments. The location of the irritation which gives rise to a cough may be anywhere in the respiratory tract, in the larynx, for instance, the trachea, or the bronchi, and its occasion may reside in any irritating substance, such as dust, smoke, gas, liquid, a foreign body, or some inflammatory or ulcerative process. When produced by sharp food, the first seat of irritation is in the pharynx, and the irritation may extend, through the agency of the nerves, to adjoining portions of the respiratory tract. Not everyone who coughs has consumption. Nev- ertheless, no one should let a cough go without attention, especially if it has persisted for some time. It is needless to say that a cough is most dangerous in small children, and that they should therefore be carefully guarded against it, and immediately relieved when attacked. In the inception of a cough one should diet himself strictly, eating no other condiment than salt, talking as little as possible, drinking no spirits, and using no vinegar. He should take a great deal of warm milk, very soft-boiled eggs, and honey. His dwelling- rooms should be kept well ventilated. During the HANDY /S°HE term ‘‘ harvest moon "’ is applied to the full moon, which happens on or nearest to the 2Ist of September, because it rises on severa! con- secutive nights more nearly after sunset than any other full moon of the year, and is specially favorable for harvesting work in the evening. DARK and bright spots are visible on the sun, and are rapidly variable. They attain a maximum about every eleven years. The dark spots consist of a penumbra with an interior umbra, and sometimes a black nucleus. They are most abundant in zones N. and S. of the equator. Red hydrogen flames are constantly evolved from the solar surface. On metal rails a horse can draw one and two-thirds times as much as on asphalt pavement; fhree and one-third times as much as on good Belgian blocks ; five times as much as on ordinary Belgian blocks ; seven times as much as on good cobble-stones; thir- teen times as much as on ordinary cobble-stones ; twenty times as much as on an earth road; forty times as much as on sand. THE oldest of all the obelisks is the beautiful one of rosy granite which stands alone among the green fields upon the banks of the Nile, not far from Cairo. It is the gravestone of a great ancient city which has vanished and left only this relic behiid. The city was the Bethshemesh of the Scriptures, the famous On, which is memorable to ali Bible readers as the residence of the priest of Potipherah, whose daughter, Assenath, Joseph married. The Greeks called it Heliopolis, the city of the sun, because there the wor- ship of the sun had its chief center and its more sacred shrines. THE two obelisks known as Cleopatra’s Needles were set up at the entrance of the Temple of the Sun, IMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE. 697 day, but especially at night, he should breathe, ina moderately large room with closed windows and doors, an atmosphere impregnated with spirits of turpentine, Such an atmosphere may be created by pouring half a teaspoonful of spirits of turpentine into a vesse of actively boiling water. In case of a child, or of a very irritable person, half this amount is sufficient. Direct inspiration of the turpentine is not necessary. It very seldom happens that an individual is markedly irritated by this quantity of turpentine. When such is the case, resort should be had toa large pine branch in a well-ventilated room. If the cough persists, no delay should be suffered in calling a physician. A similar line of treatment holds good for sore throat and for nasal catarrh. These and similar affections should never be neglected, FACTS. in Heliopolis, Egypt, by Thothmes III., about 183r B. C. We have no means of knowing when they were built, or by whom, except from the inscriptions con them, which indicate the above time. The mate- rial of which they were cut is granite, brought from Syene, near the first cataract of the Nile. Two cen- turies after their erection Rameses II. had the stones nearly covered with carvings setting out his own great- ness and achievements. Twenty-three years before Christ, Augustus Czeesar moved the obelisks from Heliopolis to Alexandria and set them up in the Czesarium, a palace which now stands, a mere mass of ruins, near the station of the railroad to Cairo. It 1819 one of these obelisks was presented by th Egyptian Gevernment to England, but as no ont knew how to move it, it was not taken to London until 1878. Subsequently the other obelisk was presented to the United States and set up in Central Park, N. Y. CURIOSITIES OF MARRIAGE.—Goethe said he mar- ried to obtain respectability. Wycherly, in his old age, married his servant girl to spite his relations. The joining of right hands in ancient times had the solemnity and validity of an oath. Giving a ring is supposed to indicate the eternity of the union, seeing that a circle is endless. : Under the Roman empire, marriage was simply a civil contract; hence we read of men ‘‘ putting away’? their wives. Among the Jews the rule was for a maiden to marry on the fourth and a widow on the fifth day of the week—not earlier. In Jewish marriages the woman is set on the right, but throughout Christendom her place in the ceremony is on the left. Ina Roman marriage the bride was purchased by CAS He SEN Sa bar a ee Ce CM thee ee RS et per ears emis SHEE be Neg ig 5 te BIEN raga pa Se, Lae * 2 iy HS ae . me Fe RO al areere eit HPD BIA ah 5 ee i698 the bridegroom’s payment of three pieces of copper money to her parents. The custom of putting a veil upon the maid before the betrothal was done to conceal her blushes at the Grst touch of the man’s hand and at the closing kiss. Kissing the bride the moment the marriage cere- mony ended, though now prescribed by the rubric of the western churches, formerlv was an imperative act on the part of the bridegroom. The early marriage ceremony among the Anglo- Saxons consisted merely of hand-fastening, or taking each other by the hand, and pledging each other love and affection in the presence of friends and relatives. An old adage thus lays down the proper days for wedlock : ** Monday for wealth, Tuesday for health, Wednesday the best day of all; hursday for crosses, Friday for losses, Saturday no at all.”’ lnck A Famous PHRAS Patrick Henry, in Maren 1775, delivered a speech in the Virginia Convention in favor of a resolution ‘‘that the colony be immedi- ately put ix a state of defense.” In concluding his address, the impassioned son of Hanover County said : ‘Ts life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery > F rbid it, Almighty God! I know not what cour may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!” ARE THE PLANETS INHABITED?—This question is one which very na Pea a: arises, when we think of the planets as worlds in so many pate esraila? to our own. Many think ee the only object God can possibly have in making any world is to form an abode for man. Our own earth was evidently fitted up, although perhaps not created, for this purpose. Coal and oil for fuel and light, forests for timber, metals for machinery, rivers for navigation, and plains forcorn. Our bodies, the air, light and heat are all fitted to each other with exquisite nicety. When we turn to the planets, we do not know but God has other races of beings who inhabit them, or different ends to attain. We are assured that, if inhabited, the onditions ©r which life is supported vary much from oe familiar to us. No human being could reside on Mercury, while no inhabitant cov.d endure the intense cold of polar Uranus. At the sun, one of our pounds would weigh 20 pounds; on our moon the pound weight would become only about 2 ounces; while on Vesta, one of the planetoids, a man could easily spring sixty feet in the air and sustain no shock. Yet while we speak of these peculiarities, we do not know what modification of the atmosphere or physical features may exist even on Mercury to temper the heat, or on Uranus to reduce the cold. With all these diversiti: we must admit the power of an all-wise Creator to create beings adapied to a life or land different from our own. se others > ® CYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATI ON. ‘ REMARKABLE AND INTERESTING BIBLE Facts. The Les Prince of Granada, heir to the Spanish throne, imprisoned by order of the Crown, for fear he should aspire to the throne, was kept in solitary con- fnement in the old prison at the Place of Skulls, Madrid. After thirty-three years in this living tomb, death came to his release, and the following remark- able researches taken from the Bible, and marked with an old nail on the rough walls of his cell, told how the brain ee employment through the weary years: In the Bible the word Lord is found 1,853 times; the word Jehovah 6, and the word Reverend but 855 tin once, and that in th un verse of the CXIth Psalm, CXVIIIth Psalm is the middle The oth verse of the VIHth he longest verse; 35th verse, is the shortest. In the es are alike, the 8th, 15th, 21st CXXXVIth Psalm ends The 8th verse of the verse of the Bible. chapter of Esther is the XIth chapter of St. John CVIith Psalm four vers and 31st. Each verse of the alike. No names or words with more than six ‘vilables are found in the Bible. The XXXVIIth bape r of Isaiah and XIXth chapter of 2nd Kings are girl (singular number) occurs but Bible, and that in the 3d verse, Joel III. fund 4 in both books of the Bible 3,586,483 31, 373 1,189 chapters, I 2 chapter of the Acts of the Apostles is ihe > finest chapter to read. The most beau- ible is the XXIIId Psalm. The inspiring promises are John XIVth “a 7th verse, St. hand verses, Ith ¢ ‘ifal chapter in the Bi > four most and 2nd verse, John VIth chapter and 3 ae hew XIth chapter and 28th verse, an XXXVIIth -salm 4th verse. The Ist verse of the L|Xth chapter Se fsaiah is the one for the new convert. All who mihi or ei emselves with vain boastings of their perfect- id 1 the VIth chapter of St. Matthew. ness should le All humanity the VIth chapter of St. arn should learn Luke, from the 2oth verse to its ending. DONE IN A MINUTE. ae a minute we are whirled around on the outside of the earth by its diurnal At the same earth in its A minute that ray of light was 11,160,000 miles away. In a minute al Beat eis >w-born infants have each the fates for thrusting while as many more human struggle of life, have opened r their last sigh. e lowest sound your ear can catch has ee 990 vibrations, while the highest tone reached you after making ee vibrations, In a minute 600 Ibs. of wool have grown in this coun- y, and we have tons of anthracite motion a distaiice of ar miles. time we shall have gone along with the grand journey around the sun 1,080 miles. ago tit ae raised a wail of protest at existence upon them, seine weary with the their li Ina minute t been made to ut Be m 4-4 La > to dig sixty-one coal and 200 tons of bituminous coal, while of pig-irot tons, and of steel rails three tons we turn out twelve Ih yeIMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE. fn a minute fifteen kegs of nails have been made, twelve bales of cotton taken from the fields, and thirty- six bushels of grain gone into 149 gallons of spirits, while $66 in gold should have been dug out of the garth. In the same time the United States Mint jurned out yold and silver coin to the value of $121, and forty-two acres of the public domain have been sold or give’ away. | €1Locks, called water-clocks, first used in Rome, 158 before Christ ; clocks and dials first set up in churches, 913; clocks made to strike by the Arabians, 801; by the Italians, 1300; a striking clock in Westminster, 1368; the first portable one made, 1530; none in England that went tolerably, till that dated 1540, maker’s name N. O. now at Hampton Court palace ; clocks with pendulums, etc., invented by one Fro- mantil, a Dutchman, about 1556; repeating cloc.s and watches invented by one Barlow, 1676. Till about 1631, neither clocks nor watches were general. THE Valley of the Amazon is larger than that of the Mississippi, the former river draining 2,330,000 square mes, the Mississippi 1,244,609 square miles. he Amazon drains a greater area than any other river on the globe. Common window glass—-that having a green tint is best—is powdered and sifted through sieves of varying fineness, for coarse and fine sandpaper. Then any coarse paper is covered with thin glue and the pow- dered glass is sifted upon it. After standing a day or two, the refuse sand is shaken off, and the paper is ready for use. flow We ARE Mape.—According to Professor fluxley’s table, a full-grown man should weigh 154 pounds, made up thus: Muscles and their appurte- nances, 68 pounds ; bony skeleton, 24 pounds ; integu- ment, 10% pounds ; fat, 23 pounds ; brain, 3 pounds ; viscera of thorax, 34 pounds; abdominal viscera, 11 pounds ; blood, which would drain the body, 7 pounds. He should consume, per diem, beefsteak, 5,000 gains ; bread, 6,000 grains ; milk, 7,000 grains; pota- toes, 3,000 grains; butter, 600 grains ; water, 22,900 grains. His heart should beat 75 times per minute ; he should breathe 15 times per minute. In 24 nours he should vitiate 1,750 cubic feet of air to the extent of r per cent. He should throw off by the skia 18 ounces of water, 4oo grains of solid matter, and 400 erains of carbonic acid every 24 hours, the total loss in that period of time amounting to six pounds of water and over 2 pounds of other matter. THE first steamship crossed the Atlantic in 1819. THE cotton gin, which made extensive cultivation of cotton profitable, was invented in 1793. VULCANIZED rubber was first made in 1849 by a pro- eee invented by Goodyear. eee een Sp 99 MALY = THE first horse-railroad was made in 1829. Now 0. every country town has its street-car line, and even Constantinople and Jerusalem have such facilities. Rm + ; Carre aoe ° ° EVERY passenger train and many freight trains are Pan { i now equippeé with air-brakes, and yet the air-brake was invented as recently as 1859. THE first practical sewing Sev y 1841. Now about 600,000 are made annually in the ~ CA United States, able to do the work of 7,200,000 women, Coat, oil was first used for illumination in 1826. LITHOGRAPHING was first made practical in 1801 WASHBOARDS with a metal face were patented in 1849. YrEasY for bread-making was first manufactured in 1634. SAFETY lamps, for the use of miners, were patented in 1815. WHEAT was first exported from the United States about 1750. THE ice-making machine was first put into operation in 1860. Tu oldest architectural work known to exist is the remarkable rock-cut temples at Ipsambul or Abou- sambul, in Nubia, on the left bank of the Nile. The largest temple contains fourteen apartments hewn out of the solid rock. ‘The first and largest of these is 57 feet long and 52 feet broad, and is supported by two rows of massive square pillars, four in each row, and 20 feet high. To each of these pillars is attached a 3 standing colossus, or human figure, of enormous pro- portions, reaching to the roof, overlaid with a kind of stucco and painted with gaudy colors, apparently as brilliant now, after the lapse of over 4,000 years, as when first laid on. In front of this temple are seate fi them being 65 a fla s four still larger human figures, twe ot feet in height—presumed to represent Rameses the Sy oS Great, more frequently termed Sesostris, whose mar- velous military exploits are depicted in drawings and paintings on the temple walls. 2 that’ if that body is inhabited it must be by beings organized very differently from the human race or eo From what is now known of the moon it is certain at any animals on the earth. ‘The moon is without water and without atmosphere ; and owing to the fact that it revolves on its axis but once a mouth, so that the lunar days and nights are each nearly thirty times as long as our days and nights, the extremes of heat and cold range every month from 400 degrees Fahrenheit above zero to 300 below. In the midst of such con- ditions no form of animal or vegetable life known to this planet could possibly exist ; and it is generally agreed among astronomers that the moon is utter: barren of life in any form. Be | “ ae es | ei Py «| | a i 4 a ie = oh 4 | 4 - sb ataeSaiatpiina de> ep ek Seat eto ty o PETS ene RR ee ee AP NO70€ THE measurement of that part of the skull which holds the brain is stated in cubicinches thus: Anglo- Saxon, 105; German, 105; Negro, 96; Ancient Egptain, 93, Hottentot, 58; Australian native, 58. In all races the male brain is about Io ten per cent. heavier than the female. The highest classes of apes have only 16 ounces of brain. A man’s brain, it is esti- mated, consists of 300,000,000 nerve cells, of which over 3000 are disintegrated and destroyed every mix ute. Every one, therefore, has a new brain once in sixty days. But excessive labor, or the lack of sleep, prevents the repair of the tissues, and the brain grad- ually wastes away. Diversity of occupation, by call- ing upon different portions of the mind or body, successfully affords, in some measure, the requisite repose toeach. Butin this age of overwork “ere is no safety except in that perfect rest which is the only natural restorative of exhausted power. It has been noticed by observant physicians in their European travels that the German people, who, asa rule, have little ambition and no hope to rise above their inher- ited station, are peculiarly free from nervous diseases ; but in America, where the struggle for advancement is sharp and incessant, and there is nothing that will stop an American but death, the period of life is usually shortened five, ten or twenty years by the effects of nervous exhaustion. After the age of fifty the brain loses an ounce every ten years. Cuvier’s weighed 64, Byron’s 79, and Cromwell’s 9c ounces, but the last was diseased. Post-mortem examina- tions in France give an average of 55 to 60 ounces for the brains of the worst class of criminals. THE first English school in America was opened in Massachusetts in 1622, with six pupils. THE first lifeboat was launched in 1802. The United States now has 242 life-saving stations. Gas was first made in England about 1792, and for many years was used only to illuminate the residences of royalty and the nobility. ““STAR ROUTES”? are those over which mails are carried in other ways than by steam, by contractors in the employ of the government. They areso called from the mark (***) on records of the Post-office Department. THE first appearance of peanuts in mercantile his- tory was a consignment of ten bags sent from Virginia to New York for sale in 1794. THE Chinese wall was completed about 200 B. C. Its length is 1,250 miles; 1ts height, including a 5- foot paraphet, 20 feet ; thickness at base, 25 feet, at top, 15 feet. THE city f Amsterdam, Holland, is built upon piles driven into the ground. It is intersected by numerous sanals, crossed by nearly three hundred bridges. 3NCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. ToBacco was discovered in San Domingo in 1796. afterwards by the Spaniards in Yucatan in 1520, It was introduced in France in 1560, and into England in 1583. THE present national colors of the United States were not adopted by Congress until 1777. The flag was first used by Washington at Cambridge, January 1, 1776. THE first American savings bank was opened in 1778 at Philadelphia. In 1892 there were 4,781,605 depositors in the savings banks of this country, who had deposited $1,712,769,026. Coal, was used as fuel in England as early as 852, and in 1234 the first charter to dig for it was granted by Henry III. to the inhabitants of Newcastle-on- ‘Lyne. QUININE, the active principle of Peruvian bark, way discovered in 1820. Now about 12,000,000 pounds of bark and 260,000 pounds of quinine are produced each year. A MACHINE for making tacks was patented in 1806, but not put into practical use until near the middle of the century. STEEL pens were first made in 1803. The annual sales at present in the United States are estimated at 30,000,000 pens, while the world annually consumes 200,000,000, A COATING of red-lead and boiled linseed oil applied to iron boiler-tubes acts as an excelient preservative. A LACQUER of linseed oil caoutchouc applied to the walls of a steam boiler prevents the adhesion of sedi- ment so that the scale admits of easy removal. TO PROTECT polished steel or iron from rust, go over the surface with parafine, or steep the iron fora few moments in a solution of soda acidulated with The result is a blue-black coating, not affected by air or water. hydrochioric acid. THE three golden balls used as a pawnbroker’s sign appeared in England in very early times. It was used by the Lombard merchants who emigrated to London These established the first pawnbroket establishments, and it is generally held that they adopted the three golden balls to be borne on the arms of the Lombard corporation, from the armorial bear- which was conspicuous among the Lombard merchant princes of Italy. THE Chinese Empire was founded 2100 before Christ; but its history does not extend above the Greek Olympiads ; the first dynasty, when Prince Yu reigned 2207 before Christ: before this time the by some Fohi is from Italy. ings of the Medici family, Chinese chronology is imperfect ; ’ supposed to be the founder of the empire, and its first sovereign 2247 before Christ; literature then revived and the art of printing practised 206 before Christ ; thsIMPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE. first nistory of China was published by Sematsin 97 before Cnrist; first grant the island of Macoa, at the entrance of the river of Canton, to the Portuguese, 1586; the country conquered by the Eastern Tartars, when the emperor and his family killed themselves, 1635 ; an attempt to establish Christianity there by the Jesuits, 1692; the missionaries expelled, 1724. It is fifteen times larger than Great Britain and Ireland; though not half the size of Europe. TURPENTINE BATHS FOR RHEUMATIC PAINS.— Make a concentrated emulsion oi black soap, 200 grammes, add thereto Ioo or 120 grammes of turpen- tine, and shake the whole vigorously until a beautiful creamy emulsion is obtained. For a bath take half of this mixture, which possesses an agreeable pine odor. At the end of five minutes there is a diminution of the pains, and a favorable warmth throughout the whole body. After remaining in the bath a quarter of an hour, the patient should get into bed, when a prickling sensation, not disagreeable, however, is felt over the entire body, then, after a nap, he awakens with a marked diminution in the rheumatic pains. REMARKABLE OCCURRENCES.—Bog of Castleguard ot Poulenard, in the County of Louth, in Ireland, December 20, 1793, moved in a body, from its original situation, to the distance of some miles, crossiug the high road toward Doon, covering everything in its way, at least twenty feet in many parts, and throwing down several bridges, houses, etc. Borge, a seat near Frederickstadt, in Norway, sunk into an ‘abyss too fathoms deep, which instantly became a lake, and drowned fourteen persons, with 240 head of cattle, 1702. Bosia, the village of, at Piedmont, near Turin, sud- denly sunk, together with 200 of its inhabitants, April 8, 1679. Brixton, the ground at, in Norfolk, for a very con- siderable extent, sunk nearly thirty feet, June, 1788. Bulkeley, a hill at, near Chester, which had trees on it of a considerable height, sunk down, July 8, 1657, into a pit of water so very deep, that the tops of the trees were not to be seen. Conjunction of the sun and moon, and all the planets, took place, 1156. Darkness, an unaccountable, at noonday, in Eng- land, so that no person could see to read, January 12, 1679. A similar darkness at Quebec, September 16, 1785. Fog, so remarkable in London, that several chair- men mistook their way in St. James Park and fell with their fares into the canal; and considerable damage was done on the Thames, January I, 1729. Gulen River, in Norway, buried itself under ground 1344, but burst out soon after, and destroyed 250 persons, with several churches, houses, etc. Hackney, Alice, who had been buried 175 years, 703 was accidentally dug up in the church of Si, Mary Hill, London ; the skin was whole, and the joints of the arms pliable, 1494. Iris, or rainbow, a lunar, appeared near Wakefield in Yorkshire, from half past nine till half past ten at night, January 17, 1806; in Baltimore in 1807. Lake of Harantoreen, in the County of Kerry, Ireland, a mile in circuit, sunk into the ground, with all its fish, March 25, 1792. Land, a piece of, in Finland, 4ooo square ells in extent, sunk fifteen fathoms, but most of the inhabi- tants escaped, February, 1793. Locusts, the country of Palestine infested with such swarms of, that they darkened the air, and after devouring the fruits of the earth they died, and their intolerable stench caused a pestilential fever, 406. A similar circumstance occurred in France, 873. Lotea, a city of Murcia, in Spain, destroyed by the bursting of a reservoir, which inundated more than twenty leagues, and killed 1000 persons, besides cattle, April 30, 1802. Mammoth, a complete, discovered on the borders of the Frozen Ocean, 1799. Meteor, an astonishingly bright one, which lighted the atmosphere for almost a minute, so as to render legible the writings on the signs in London, at half past eight o’clock in the evening, November 13, 1303. Oxenhall, near Darlington, the earth here suddenly | rose toan eminence resembling a mountain ; remained so several hours; then sunk in as suddenly with a horrible noise, leaving a deep chasm, A. D. 1179. Parrot, an extraordinary one, belonging to Colonel Kelly, died at the age of 30, at his house in Piccadilly, October 9, 1802. This bird appeared to possess in some degree the faculty of reason, for when it made a mistake in either words or tune of the numberless songs it was master of, it would correct itself and begin the song again. Plantation, a large, with all the buildings, destroyed, by the land removing from its former site to another, and covering everything in its way, October If, 1874, in St. Joseph’s parish, Barbadoes. Skeleton of a large animal, supposed to be of the mammoth kind, discovered by the falling of Malton Cliff, near Harwich, 1803. One of the teeth is said to have weighed twelve pounds. tide ebbed and flowed three times in one hour, at Dyme, in Dorsetshire, May 31, 1582; the tide was suddenly and violently agitated on the somth cost of England, so as to rise and fall above two feet in a few minutes, several times, November 1, 1755, during the earthquake at Lisbon ; four times in an hour, at Whitby, July 17, 1761; damages on the cost of Hssex, and destroyed the sea walls on its eastern coast Feb- ruary 2, 1791; at Plymouth, where the tide rose two feet perpindicular in nine minutes, and retired as nS a Ee Se KR, Se ee ee Wiha eh or eee OR eT RE Dae set BN RS On NNO Se Ser \ é ay é i | a v . ; ne Ne enn cones os re RPT rea p wo pactones “ “en! 1 RS “ *e ane PORE ES NR eR Se Re ee eT ee : Fa ee 2 Dk ie 702 ENCYCL are a Saye sitios be rapidly ; and this it did three times in lesst than one hour, October 30, os - the tide did great damag several parts of England, 18 Toad, alive, found in a block of stone, at Newark, April 15, 1806. Mount Vesuvi and smoke thatt 4 s threw he air was darkenec quantity of fla > eer the citi out sucha es of culaneum were overwhelmed by the was dis- Pompeii and H e burning lava, a D. 79. (Herculaneun covered in 1737; and several curio are 1ave been dug out of it at various times Since; but everything com- bustible had the marks of being burnt by fire.) Anoth« fatal eruption, when 4,000 persons were s cadeel, t part of the neighboring country, 1632. : = ef . en Tie H aits of Babel-mandeb, the passage from the ape » Canta Persian Gulf into the Red Sea, are called the Gate of } TAY lye He +a nic ahont Tears by the Arabs. The channel is only about °4 en ae ae ee SAecy J norATrnniea f, a twenty miles wide, is rocky and very dangerous tot passage in rough weather. It received its melancholy name from the number of shipwrecks that occurred there. The Bridge of Sighs is the bridge in Venice which connects the palace cf the dodge with the State prison, a was so called because over it vere conveyed from the judgment hall to the place of execution. WHEN liquors are bottled they contain a certain amount of sugar, which anes through the action of minute spores or cells; these break the sugar up into alcohol and carbonic acid gas; when the cork is withdrawn the gas instantly makes its escape, and rising in bubbles, produces effervesence and froth of about one foot a year. been cut right back from Queenstown, for a distance of seven miles, tot DOICONCG AND FT? RB VWEOVUINS FALNY i Sone NYT SRONPSTANTEN. Tice ee ce : é 1 YO\HE N pei Onous supstances Have been tal ey 41 \/ into the st 7 their ejection by vomiting or neutralization, by proper antidotes. Our first step, however always be to get rid of as much of the poison as pos sible by vomiting—triddance is always rietsmabie t neutralization—but that which remains miust be ren- dered inert by proper antidotes Vomiting should be produced by the simplest means when they are sufficient, such as tickling the throat with the finger or with a feat! g luke ith a ae or by drinkin; warm water, salt and water when these i ould at imeans are Heim ca t we sh resort to one of those emetics which is most powerfu and speedy in its operations, as tartar eme ie sulphate of copper, or sulphate of zinc. When vomiting has been 4a x excited, it should be continued by copious draughts o c prisot 1ers he place where the falls now are. mach, the first move is to cause , or mustard he water, but once At this rate it has taken five thousand years for that channel eu ren miles to be made 4 + WHEN a candle starts fron 1 reach of a gun its lly increased until i notion is gradua t leaves the muz zie at a high velocity, and when it reaches the board very particle of matter composing it is in a state of he moment of contact the par- of matter ee the target are at rest, and dle, multiplied by the velocity + inten Se velocity. At ticles y as the density O x f the cat of the target -r force overcomes the weaker and the of its motion, 1s greater eat the density at rest, the greate1 candle breaks through and pierces a hole in the board, ty of TE velocity of waves is said to depend p primarily upon the power and continuance of the w ind but it is greatly modified by and bears an ascertainable rela- tion to their magnitud h of water over which they travel. It has been calculates by Airy that a wave I1oo feet in breadth, and in water too feet deep, travels at the rate of about 15 miles an hour; t broad, and in water 1000 feet deep, at t in breadth, ana vard with a Bache 3 { 1 e and the de one 1000 fe r 4Q c : the rate of 4 es; one of 10,000 fee in water 10,000 feet deep, will sweep for velocity of not less than 154 miles an hour. stated, as one of the effects of an earthquake at Samoda, on the Island of Niphon, in Japan, that the harbor wv t emptied of water, and then came an enormous wave, which again receded and left the harbor dry. ‘This occurred several times. from the ocean feet deep with | oncyta a Io evaporate water enough annually to cover the earth, on the average, live precipitation ; to transport it from one zone to another ; to cause it lin the right places, at suitable times, and in the proportions due, is one of the offices of the This water 1s evapo- rated principally from the torrid zone. ical machine. ' erand atm 5 o oran atinosphier y 5 ‘ - + a/e6 \ ws ( ( 1 5 tickli ne rth e th Oat With th e finger or eather, until the poisonous substances are ejected. in 8 when vomit c ot be produced, the tomach pump must be used by skilled hands, espe cially in arsenical or narcotic po‘sons. When as much of the poison as possible has been gotten nd of by vomiting, the following antidotes will be found the most simple and reliable Acids are neutralized by alkalies, such as very thick ilk, chalk, soda, lime water, In cases of poisoning from sulphi oS df s vic acid, do not use soapsuds or lime water; for mitric or oxalic acid ind lime ; and for prussic acid use dilute ia and electr ihe se mlagnes sia ¢ Alkalies aTe Lit the vegetable acids, vinegar or oils in large quantities, sutralized bv MLIiIGIIZ0G yy acids,Opium and other narcotics are neutralized by strong soffee and frequent doses of aqua ammonia, following and during frequent powerful emetics, and for the spasms of strychnia, use chloroform, or ether and electricity. Motion and heat must, be maintained in poisonings of this character. Arsenic is probably the most difficult poison to antidote successfully of any we have to contend with ; hydrated peroxid of iron, in tablespoonful doses every ten minutes until relief is obtained, is relied upon by the profession oftener than any other treatment, This preparation, as well as any others named under poisons, ean be procured at any druggist’s. When poisoned by dzsmuth, copper and their com- pounds, mercury, tin, zinc and their salts, and creosote, use albumen in some form, as the white of eggs, sweet milk, strong coffee and mucilaginous drinks. WEATHER FORECASTS. UNSET COLORS.—A gray, lowering sunset, or (@)) one where the sky is green or yellowish green, indicates rain. A red sunrise, with clouds low- ering later in the morning, also indicates rain. Hato (SUN Docs).—By halo we mean the large circles, or parts of circles, about the sun or moon. A halo occurring after fine weather indicates a storm. Corona.—By this term we mean the small colored circles frequently seen around the sun or moon. A corona growing smaller indicates rain; growing larger, fair weather. RAiInBows.-——A morning rainbow is regarded as a sign of rain; an evening rainbow of fair weather. Sky Coror.—A deep blue color of the sky, even when seen through clouds, indicates fair weather; a growing whiteness, an approaching storm. Foc.—Fogs indicate settled weather. A morning fog usually breaks away before noon. VISIBILITY.—Unusual clearness of the atmosphere, unusual brightness or twinkling of the stars, indicate tain. LouDS.—In observing clouds, we serve their kinds, motions and outlines, The clouds frequently called ‘‘mare’s tails’? we term Cirri. They are marked by their light texture, fibrous and sundered as in the ‘‘mare’s tail,” or interlacing as in the far- spreading white cloud, which produces the halo. Small, regularly formed groups of these clouds are frequently seen in fair and settled weather. ‘The Cirri are also the clouds on the forepart of the storm. In this case they are usually more abundant, their outline is very ragged, and they generally blend into | a white, far-reaching cloud-bank. The cloud well known as ‘‘cotton bales,”’ or ‘‘thun- der heads,’ we term cumulus. When they appear during the heat of the day and pass away in the {MPORTANT FACTS FOR REFERENCE, 708 : For /ead and its salts, use epsom salts, glauber salts, dilute sulphuric acid or even lemonade, in mild cases. For zodine, use starch, wheat flour or arrowroot beaten up in warm water, For gases, use dilute ammonia, electricity and fric. tion. In poisoning from animals, but little or no benefit is derived from vomiting, but we should at once resort to antidotes, and often to the actuai cautery. For the bite of a mad dog’, the actual cautery should instantly be applied to the wound, and large doses of zinc or muriate of iron given for several days. For serpents’ stings apply the actual cautery imme: diately, and give sufficient whisky or brandy to pro- duce intoxication. For insect poison apply iodine or hartshorn and oil to the part, and give stimulants for a day or two. evening, continued fair weather may be expected. When they increase with rapidity, sink into the lower part of the atmosphere, and remain as the evening approaches, rain is at hand. If loose patches appear thrown out from their surfaces, showers may be expected. The clouds usually seen after nightfall, lying in one horizontal plane, and not of great extent, are attendant on fine weather. Small, black, inky clouds and dark scud indicate rain. BAROMETER.—lIn using the barometer, we should notice whether it be greatly above or below the mean height and the rapidity of its rise or fall. If it be higher and steady, continued fair, though not cloud- less weather may be expected. If it be lower and falling, rain, or at least damp, cloudy weather, is at hand. A rapid rise or fall (greater than 0.01 inch per hour) indicates continued unsettled weather and much wind, FRost.—The first frost and iast frost are usually preceded by a temperature very much above the mean, Wind and Weather Signals. The new system of weather signals was introduced by the United States Signal Office of the War Depart- ment in 1887, and has since been in use a all the stations of the service. ‘The flags adopted for this purpose are four in number, and of the form and dimensions indicated below: No. 1, white flag, six feet square, indicates clear of fair weather. No. 2, blue flag, six feet square, indicates raiti of snow. ; No. 3, black triangular flag, four feet at the base and six feet in length, always refers to temperature, wher placed above Nos, I or 2 it indicates warmer weather, when placed below Nos. 1 or 2 it indicates coldes SA ee Ce ous Nc aie eens ae ver eens nm me ps ie arn Re te I LR eee oN FAS PS Barend POOLE MEATFa ee ae Reni aed i weather; when not displayed, the indications are that the temperature will remain stationary, or that the change in temperature will not vary five degrees from the temperature of the same hour of the preceding day. No. 4, white flag, six feet square, with black square in center, indicates the approach of a sudden and decided fall in temperature. This signal is usually ordered at least twenty-four hours in advance of the cold wave. It is not displayed unless a temperature of forty-five degrees, or lower, is expected. When No. 4 is displayed, No. 3 is always omitted. When displayed on poles, the signals are arranged to read downwards; when displayed from horizontal supports, a small streamer is attached to indicate the point from which the signals are to be read. Interpretation of Displays. No. 1, alone, indicates fair weather, stationary tem- perature. No. 2, alone, indicates rain or snow, stationary tem- perature. No. 1, with No. 3 below it, indicates fair weather, colder. No. 2, with No. 3 above it, indicates warmer weather, vain or snow. No. 1, with No. 4 below it, indicates fair weather, cold wave. No. 3, with Nos. 1 and 2 below it, indicates warmer, fair weather, followed by rain or snow. No. 4, followed by Nos. 2, 1 and 3, in the order given, indicates the approach of a cold wave, to be succeeded by rain or snow—this, in turn to be fol- lowed by fair weather and colder temperature. Storm, Cautionary and Wind-Direction Signals. A red flag with a black center indicates that the storm is expected to be of marked violence. A yellow flag with a white center indicates that the winds expected will not be so severe, but stationary; sea- worthy vessels can meet them without danger. The red pennant indicates easterly winds, that is, from the northeast to south inclusive, and that generally the storm center is approaching. If above cautionary or storm-signal, winds from northeast quadrant are more probable ; de/ow, winds from southeast quadrant. The white pennant indicates westerly winds; that is, from north to southwest inclusive, and that generally the storm center has passed. If adove cautionary or storm-signal, winds from northeast quadrant are more probable; if Jdelow, winds from southwest quadrant. 704 ENCYCLOPEDIA OF VALUABLE INFORMATION. The Climates of the United States. Mean annual temperature, Fahrenheit, at places named. STATES. Alabama « «4 3 Alaska’ ioe a Arizona 3 os Atearsas <.05 3 of California <<. s Colorado <4. Connecticut . . -« SJAKOA 5 Delaware << 3. t % District of Columbia PIorce . 5 se Georgia . + « - IGANG, . 3 o%6 “e. TnOw, ss Se [odiane is a GS Indian Territory . JOwa°° 3 6 3 3 Kausas . <5 « 3 Rentucky. . s .< Touwmieia. << « Moine a Nebraska. oa 6 MeVAGE «4°. 4 New Hampshire New Jersey New Mexico : Wew YorR << . « North Carolina : IO. eee ee Orevon, « . Pennsylvania Rhode Island South Carolina . Tennessee. . . « TERAS' 5 a5 4 om WUE ee on Vermont. ss % Vigil oc Se Washington . . . West Virginia . . Wisceitisiti = 3 5. | Wyoming. . « - CITIES. Mobile ..° « =e Tucsoti . «= 3 ee Little Rock . . was San Francisco . . . Denver . « «© =m Hartford . + =» faa Fort Randall . Wilmington. . a4 Washington . 2 gas Jacksonville ..” aa Atlanta . . & =m Fort Boise . «© |aam Springfield . . gam Indianapolis . a Fort Gibson < aa Des Moines. . a Leavenworth . «5 Louisville . «.« eo New Orleans . | a Augusta . . «6 wm Baltimore . « =e Boston _« — Detroit . «.« « =m St. Paul . . fe Jackson . « « a9 St. Louis « ee Helena . «+ « = Omaha . s ¢ Camp Winfield Scott Concord « « = = Trenton . ¢ «<> #a— Santa Fe. .« «© oa Albany . « «<: a Raleigh . s sam Columbus .. « jm Portland’. . « #8 Harrisburg . . 9s Providence » -« e@ Columbia ss 08 Nashville Cl Austin a Salt Lake City “G3 Montpelier . < aa Richmond . « s Steilacoom . « sm Romney . « « sas Madison . « « =e Fort Bridger ° a eTHE COTTON PICKER’S TABLE. } the first column gives the number of pounds, and the top of each column the price per hundred pounds. | Los.|,.2 | 2 iS: pes be as be [18 | 2191/0 I pple] o| of feo Pa Re ls pole ie: le [8] [8/5 |S |9|5|8]8 (8 /e/8 | Ole |8 [Es 8/3 (8/8 |8|2|8 1} 44) Ho} %o| 98] %| %o| | % %! %| .01/ .01 || 76} .19, .23| .27| .29] .30, 34! .381 .49] .46| .49| Bal .57 2| 441% | %4o| .01] .01| .01| .01| .01] .01| .oi] .o1| 02 || zzl~19| 128 ‘orl “oo “se "35 139 12 “26 50 ‘bal BB 3) $4) .01) .01) .01) .01) .01) .02, .02) .02) .02) .02| .02 || 78} .20| .23| .27| .29) |31] 135] {3901 |43| 47] (511 |BR) 59 : O1 as 7 es oe os 02.02, 02) .03, 03, .03 || 79) .20 .24 .28) .30) .32) 36 .40| .43) .47 bl .55| .59 5) :02 02) .02 02 .03 .03 .03| 03.03, .04 || 80) .20, .24) .28) .30) .32, 36 .40) ‘44| .48| (52) .56) .60 6) .02, .02 .02 .02 .02 .03, .03 .03, .04| 04 104] 105 || 81) .20 .24| 128) '30| “39| '36 141] “45) “49| “Bal ‘B7| 61 | .02, 02 02 .03 .03) .03 .04) .04) .04) .05 05 05 |/ $2) .21) 25) .29| .31| .33) 197] .41| 145) (49) (53! By 62 S| .02| .02 .03, .03 .03 04 .04 .04 .05) .05 .06, .06 || $3} .21) .25 .29| 31] .33 .87| 42) 146 50| .54| .58| .62 C2 03, .03 .03 .04 .04 .05 .05 .05 .06 .06 .07 || $4) .21) .25 .29| .32) .34) .38) .42) .46| .50| .55| .59| .63 10) .03, .04 .04 .04 .04 .05, .05) .05) .06) .06| .07) .08 || 85) °21| .25) .30) .32] .34! .39| .43| .47| .51/ .55| .60| .64 11) 03.04 .04 .04 .04 .05 .06 .06, .07| .07| .08 .08 || 86) .22) .26 .30| 39) .34| |39| 431 147| 521 156) 60 .65 12) 03 .04 .04 .05 .05| 05, .06 .07 .07| .08| .08 09 || 87) .22 .26 .80| .33) 35, .30| 44) (48) -52| .57| .61] .65 13) .03, 04 .05 .05 .05 .06 .07 .07' .08 .08| .09 10 || 88} .22| .26 .31) .33) .35| .40| 44) 148) .531 -57| 162) .66 14) .04| .04| .05) .05, .06, .06| .07| .08| .08| .09] 10) .11 || 89} .22) .27] .31] .33] .36| .40| .45] .49] .53] .58] 621 .67 15) .04' .05) .05 .06 .06 .07| .08 .08| .09| .10} .10| .12 |} 90} .22| .27| .32] .34| .36| .41| .45] .50! .54| .59] 163] .68 16 04 -05 06 .06 -06 607) .08) 09) 10). 10) 11) 12 91) .23) .27| .82] .84] .96 .41/ .461 .50! .55| 59) 64) .68 17) .04 .05) .06 .06 .07| .08) .09| .09| .10| 11) .12 13 || 92} .23) .28) .82) .35] .37| .41| .46| .51) .55) .60| .64) .69 18) .05 .05, .06 .07| .07 .08, .09 10 .11) .12) .13 .14 || 93) .23 .28) .33) .35) .37) .42) 47) .51] .56) 61) .65) .70 19} .05, .06, .07| .07| .08| .09) .10| .10) .11) 12) 131 .14 94) .24) .28) 33) .35] .38) .43) .47| .52) .56] .61) .66| .71 20) .05 .06 .07| .08 .08| .09) .10 .11) .12} 13) .14 .15 || 95) .24) .28) .34! .36| .38| 43) 48) 1591 .57| .62| -67) .7 21) .05) .06; .07, .08 .08) .09) .11) .12) .13) .14) .15) .16 SG) .24) .29) .34| .36) .38) .43) .48] .53] .58 62) 67) 72 22). 06 .U7%, .08) .08) .09) .10) .11) .12) .18) .14 .15) .17 97| .24) .29) .34| .386) .89) .44) .49) .53) .58] °63) .68) .73 23) .06, .07| .08) .09, .09) .10, 12) .12 .14) 15) .16 .17 || 98] .25) .30, .34! .87| .39| .44| .49] .54) 59] .64| .69| .74 24 Go ui .O8) 08 20) .11) 12.138) 14) ..16) 17 18 99) .25] .30| .35) .37| .40) .45] .50| .54/ .59) .64| .69] .7 25) .0o US .09} .09 .10) .11) .13) .13) .15) .17| .177| .19 100) .25) .80) .35) .38) .40) .45) .50| .55 60) 65| .70) .75 26| .07| .08} .09) .10, .10) .12 .13 .14) .16) .17/] .18| .20 1O1| .25) .30) .35| .38) .40) .45) .51) .56) .61) .66) .'71) .76 27/| .07| .08| .09| .10 .11) .12) .14! .14) .16] .18| .19] .20 || 102] .25) .31] .36| .38] .41| .46] .51| .56| .61/ .66| .71/ .76 28} .07| .08| .10| 11) .11) .13| .14| .15| .17| .18| .20 21 || 103] .26, .31] .36| .39) 41] .46| .52| .57| .62| .67| .72| .77 29| .07| .09| .10| .11| .12) .13] .15) .15) .17] .19] .20| .22 || 104] .26| .31] .86) .39] .42) .47| .52) .57) .62 73| .78 30} .08| .09| .10} .11| .12) .14! .15| .16| .18) .19| .21/ .23 || 105} .26| .22) .37| .89| .42) .47] .53] .58| .63] .68] '74| .'79 Sat cOs) |S [29 SAG |G, fre ois Sele Oe | eee HOt st Ss | Ole || Ala lad lala {R)S jis /Sis =| P41 | aes sg tie | ees ieee coe 351) .881.051.231.821.401.5811.761.932.112.29/2.462.68 | -76 .911.061.131.211.361.517.661.811.96 2.11 2.27 303) .76 .911.061.141.211.361.521.671.821.972.12'2.27 4) .76 .911.061.141.221.371.521.671.821.98 2,132.28 5| -76, -921.071.141.22)1.37,1.531.681.831.98 2.142.290 806) .77, .921.071.151.221.381.531.681.841.992.14:2.30 -77| .921.071.151.23)'1.38 1 .541.691.842.002.15)2.30 808) .77, .921.081,151.231.391.541.691.852.002.162.31 809; .77, .931.081.161.241.391.551.701.852.012.16/2.32 $10) .78 .931.091.161.241.401.551.711.862.022.172.33 | | 852) .881.061.23/1.8211.411.581.7611.942.11 | 353 ‘881.061 241 301-41 L601 TTL odo. 129.30 49 65 S54) 891.061.241.331 4911 .591.7711.952.122, 302,482.68 | 855) 891.071.241.341 4211 .601.7811.952.132.31 2,492.66 | 856) .891.071.251.341.491.601.781.962.14.2.322.492.67 | 891.07/1.251.341,431.61/1.791.96'2.142.322. 502.68 358) .901 .07|1.25)1.3511.431.61/1.7911.972.152.33)2.51/2.69 | 359) .901.081.261.351.44/1.62)1.80/1.972.152.342.51/2.69 360) 901,081.26 1.351.441.621.801.982.162,349, 522.76 811) .78 .931.091.171.241.401.561.711.872.022.182.33 || 861) 901.081.2611 1,621.80! | .73) 71.24 .56 1.71 1.872.022.18:2. | .90/1.0811.26)1.351.44/1.6211.8011.99:2. 172,352.53) 812) .78 .941.091,17 1.251.401.561.721.872.032.182.34 || 362! ‘911.091.2741 361 451 631 8111 992 10.350 5809 813) .78 .941.101.171.251.411.571.721.882.032.192.35 || 863) .91'1.091.2711.361.451.631.822 002.182. 362.549 72 814) .78 .941.101,181.261.411.571.731.882.042,20/2.36 815) .79 .951.101.181.261.421.581.7381.892.052,21/2.36 | 79 .951.111,191.261.421.581.741.902.052.212.37 817) .79 .951.111.191.271.431.591.741.902.06,2.22'2.88 818) .79 .961.111.191.271.431.591.751.912.072.22'2.39 819 .80, .961.121.201.281.441.601.751.912.072,232.39 820 .80 °961.121.201.281.441.601.761.922.082,242.40 321) .80 .961.121.201.281.441.611.771.932.09'2.25)2.41 322) .80| .971.131.211.291.451.611.771.932.092.252.42 || 372) .931.12'1.3011.401.4911.671.862.0512.232.49 828 81] 971.131.911.291.451.621.781.942.102.962.49 || 873 "9811-1911 31 1 A0/L AGtL GO 870.020. 940,499, 1 20 824) .81| 971,131.21 1.301.461.621.781.942.112.972.43 || 374.941.121.311 4011.50.68, '87/2.06:2.24 2. 43/2622. 81 825) 81) 98 1.141.221.301.461.631.791.952.112.982.44 || 875) .941.13'1.3111.401.501.6911.882.062.252, 442.632.81 $26) .82 .981.141.221.301.471.631.791.962.122.282.45 || 876) .941.131.321-41/1.5011.6911.882.072.262.442.632. 82 B27) 82 .981.141.231.311.471.641.801.962.132.202.45 || 877) .941.131.321 41/1.511. 701.892.072.262. 452. 649.88 B28) .82| .981.151.231.311.481.641.801.972.132.302.46 || 378 ‘951,131,341 441 511 TOIL 802. 082.272 462.650. 94 829) .82) .991.151.231.321.481.651.811.972.142.302.47 || 879) .95 1.141.331.4911 521.71/1.902.082.272.462.652.84 t 830) 83, .991.161.241.321.491.651.821.982.152.312.48 || 380) .951.141.331.4311.591.7111. 902.092. 282, 47/2. 662, 85 ‘e 831) 183 |991.161.241.321.49 1.661.821.992.152.322.48 || 381] .951.141.33/1.431.521.7111.902.092.282. 4712.62.86 832 _831.001.161.251.331.49 1.661.893 1.992. 162,322.49 || 382) |961.151.34'1.431 531.721.912.102. 292.482. 672.86 833 831.001.171.251.331.501.671.832.002.162.332.50 || 383] .961.151.34'1.4411.531.7511.912. 112.302. 492.6812.87 x 834) /841.001.171.251.341.501.671.842.002.172.342.51 || 384) .961.151.3411.441.531.7311.922. 112. 302.4912.6912.88 835\ .841.011.171.261.341.511.681.842.012.182.352.51 836) .841.011.181.261.341.511.681.852.02 2.19'2.35.2.52 837) ,841.011.181.261.351.521.691.85 2.02 2.19'2.362.53 838. 851.011.181.271.351.521.691.862.032.202.37/2.54 || 889 .851.021.191.271.861.531.701.86.2.08 2.20 2.37)2.54 840 .851.021.191.28 1.36 1.53 1.70 1.87 2.04 2.21/2.38,2.55 841) .851.021.191.28'1.361.531.711.88 2.052.222.39)2.55 342) .861.031.201.281.371.541.711.88 2.05 2.22:2.392.56 843) .861.031.201.291.371.541.721.692.06.2.23 2.40 2.57 844) .861.031.201 291.381.551.721.89 2.062. 242,412.58 845) .861.041.211.291.381.551.'73 1.90 2.07 2.24:2.422.59 846) .871.041.211.301.381.561.731.90 2.08 2.252.42:2.60 847| .87/1.041.211.301.391.561.74 1.91 2.08 2.252.43:2.60 848] .872.041.221.311.391.571.741.91 2.09 2.262.442.61 849) .87/1.051.221.311.401.571.751.92 2.09 2.272.442.62 350) -881.051.231.311.401.581.751.932.10 2.28 2.45 2.63 864) .91'1.091.271.37/1.461.64/1.82/2.002.182.3712.5512.73 865) .911.101.281.3711.461.64/1.83/2.01/2.192.38:2.5612.74 866) .921.101.281.37/1.47/1.65/1.83'2.01/2.202.38/2.5612.75 367) .92'1.101-28)1.38)1.4711.6511.84/2.022.202.3912.5712,'75 868) .921.101.291.381.471.6611.8422.02/2.21'2.39/2.582.76 869) .921.11/1.29/1.39}1.4811.66/1.85/2.03)2.21/2.4012.582.77 370) .931.11/1.30'1.391.481.671.852.04.2.229.411 5912.78 || BTL) .93)1.11)1.30/1.40/1.481.671.86/2.04/2.23'2.41/2.602.78 | 885] .961.151.3511.441.541.731.922, 112.31/2.502.69.2.89 || 886) .97/1.151.351.45)1.5411.741.932.12'2 32)2.51/2.'70;2.89 387] .9711.161.351.451.5511.'7411. 932. 122.322.51)2.712.90 388) .971.161.361.451.551.'75/1.942.132.332.522.71/2.91 | 389] .971.171.3611.461.561.7511.942, 14/2. 332.532.722.91 390} .981.171.361.46/1.561.7511.952.14.2.342.53)2.72'2.92 391) .981.171.371.47/1.561.7611.952.152.352.542.73.2.98 392) .981.171.371.471.571.761.96.2.162.35 2.552. 73:2.94 398, .981.181.3711.47/1.5711.7711.962.16 2.362.552.74:2.95 394| .991.181.3811.481.581.77/1.972.172.382.562.75'2.95 395} .991.181.381.481.581.781.97 2.17 2.37 2.572.762.96 396) .991.191.381.481.58 1.781.982. 18 2.37:2.57/2.77:2.96 397| .991.191.39'1.491.591.'79 1.982.18 2.38 2.58:2.78'2.98 398 1.001.191.391.491.591.791.90-2.192.39 2.582.78,2.98 899'1.001.201.401.501.60,1.801.992.19 2.39 2.592.792. 99 4.00 1.001.201.401.501.601.802.002.202.402.602.803.00 COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. (From 5 cts. to 20 cts. per Ib.} 5 Cents. | 400220.00.417$20.85 434$21.70 451$22.55 468$23.40 485$24.25 502$25.10 519$25.95 536$26.80 553$27. 65 570$28.50 587$29.35 401 20.0418 20.90435 21.75452 22.60469 23.45486 24.30503 25.15520 26.00537 26.85554 27.70571 28.55588 29.40 402 20.10419 20.95436 21.80453 22.65470 23.50487 24.35504 25.20521 26.05538 26.90555 27.75572 28.60:589 29.45 403 20.15420 21.00437 21.85454 22.70471 23.55488 24.40405 25.25522 26.10539 26.95556 27.80573 28.65,590 29.50 404 20.20421 21.05438 21.90455 22.75472 23.60489 24.45506 25.30523 26.15540 27.00557 27.85574 28.70591 29.5> 405 20.2422 21.10439 21.95456 22.80473 23.65490 24.50507 25.35524 26.20541 27.05558 27.90575 28.'75}592 29.60 e . nS 0 ~J SAS 423 21.15440 22.00457 22.85474 23.70491 24.55508 25.40525 26.25542 27.10559 27.95576 28.80593 29.65 494A 21.20441 22.05458 22.90'475 23.75,492 94.60509 25.45526 26.30543 27.15560 28.00577 28.85\594 29.70 425 21.25442 22.10459 22.95476 23.80493 24.65510 25,50527 26.35644 27.20561 28.05578 28.901595 29.75 i fj ry ert 7 > ex "45428 21.30443 22.15460 28.00477 23.85494 24.70511 25,.55528 26.40545 27.25562 28.10579 28.95596 29.80 50.427 21.35444 22.20461 23.05478 23.90495 24.75512 25.60529 26.45546 27.30563 28.15580 29.00 "55428 21.40445 22.25462 23.10479 23.95.496 24.80518 25.65530 26.50547 27.3564 28.20581 29.05 412 20.60429 21.45446 22.30463 23.15480 24.00497 94.85'514 25.70531 26.55548 27.40565 28.25,582 29.10 413 20.65430 21.50447 22.35464 28,20481 9A.05498 24.90515 25.75532 26.60549 27.45666 28.30583 29.15 414 20.70431 21.55448 22.40465 23.25482 24.10499 94.95516 25.80533 26.65.550 27.50567 28.35584 29.20 98 30483 24.15500 25.00517 25.85534 26,70,551 27.55568 28.40585 29.25 415 20.75432 21.60449 22.45466 416 20.80433 21.65450 22.50467 23.35484 94.90'501 25.05518 25.901535 26.751552 27.60569 28.45.5836 29.30 aan ou S bs @ S PES BS 9 89 88 1g BS SESeses RORSBS ISS8RR8 7 Deana& COTTON SEES TABLE. a 4 Cents—¢ ‘ontinue d. oC ents—Continued. | LC ents—Ct mint 1ed. 5} Cents. fe 7 : : ee ii a wee Oe ee a ee oe ee Ae i | : 3 { ) | | | oT a Ses a Le lb kiet hee POL al one PAs he Seabactie Pd 1 400$20.50 467$23.93 534$27.37| 422 401 20.55468 23.98535 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421 422, 423 466 20.60,469 20.65470 20.70 471 20.76472 20.81 473 20.86474 20.91475 20.96.476 21.01477 21.06 478 21.11/479 21.17480 21.22:481 21.27/482 21.32/483 21.37/484 21.42.4485 21.47/486 21.52)487 21.58.488 21.63:489 21.68/490 2 21.73/491 5 21.78)492 3 21.83)493 21.88)494 21.93)495 9 21.99/496 22.04/497 22.02/498 2, 22.14/499 22..19/500 22241501 5 22.29)502 22.34'503 22.40\504 22.45)505 22.50\506 0 22.55\507 22.60)}508 2, 22.65)/509 22.70\510 22.75/11 5 22.81/512 22,.86'513 22,.91/514 99..96\515 23.01/516 23 .06|517 23.11/518 23.16)519 23.22'520 23.27|521 5 23.32\522 > 23.37/523 23.42.5294 23.47/525 23.52,526 23.57/27 23.63 528 23,68529 23.73530 23,78531 23,83532 23,88533 | L Cents. 24.04586 24.09.537 24.14'538 24.1915389 24,24 540 24.29 541 24.34'542 24.89543 24.45 544 24.50'545 24.55'546 24.60'547 24.65'548 24.'70/549 24.'75|550 24.80'551 24.86/552 24.91/553 24.96'554. 25.01'555 ‘ 25.061556 25.11\557 25.16/558 25.21\559 25.27\560 25.32)/561 25.37|562 25.42/563 25.47|564 25.52'565 25 oO. 57 566 25.62'567 25.68,568 25.'73}569 25.78|570 25.83 ov 25 .88)5 57 G a 25. 9; 357 3 25.98)574 26.08/575 26.09|576 26.14/577 26.191578 26.24'579 26.29)'580 26.34/581 26.39)/582 26.44\583 29 50/584 26.551\585 26.60'586 26.65/587 26.70\588 26.75|589 26.80590 26.85'591 26.91\592 26.96'593 27.01/594 27.06595 27.111596 2'7.161597 27.21'598 297 .26599 27. 32 600 ae 4 27.42) 423 27.47) 424 27.52)'495 2'7.57/'426 27.62) 427 27.67) 428 27.73)429 27.78'430 27.83)431 27.88) 432 27.93)1433 22 27.98)'434 28.03)435 28.08)'436 28.14/437 28.19)'438 28.24'439 28.29)'440 28.34) 441 28.39) 442 28.44 443 28.49 444 2 28.59 445 28.60) 446 28.69)|44'7 28.70) 448 28.75) 449 28.80) 450 28.85) 451 28.90 452 28.96 453 29.01) 454 29.06)455 29.11)\456 29.16) 457 29,21)458 29,26) 459 2 29.31\460 29.37/\461 29.42\469 29.47 463 29.52)1464 29.57|\465 29.62 166 29.67|467 29:72/468 29.78) 469 29.83 70 29.88 ‘71 929 £93 17 9 29.98 17 30.0347 30.08) 47 30.13 17 30.19 47 30,24 478 80.29 479 30.34 180 30.39 30.44 30.49 3 74 2 5 } 7 30.54 400321. 80.60 /401 80.65 /402 30.70 403 30.75)'404 1405 a 406 407 2 400821. 00 50782 21. 37 lat. AS 1. 73 408 401 21.05408 21.42,.415 402 21.10409 21.47\416 403 404 405 21.16:410 21.21/411 21.26412 21.52)417 ce 58.418 FA. 63 419 406 21.31413 21.68 420 21.79)409 21.84 410 21.89 411 21.94 412 22.00 413 22.051414 22.15 482, 22..21'483 22,.26'484 22..31/485 22.36 486 22..42:487 22.47/488 22..52;489 22..57/490 22..63.491 22..68)492 22...731493 29..78)|494. 92..84:495 22,.89'496 22,.94497 22,..99/498 23.05/499 23.101500 23.15)501 93. 90; 302 > 23.26\503 9s 3 21 oy a 93_36505 23.41'506 23.47/507 93.52'508 93.57/509 93.62.510 93.68'511 23. 731512 23.78'513 93.83'514: 93.89)515 23.94'516 93.99'517 94.04'518 94.10.519 94.15'520 24.20)521 94,95 502 94.31/523 94.361524 94.41'525 94.46'526 94.521527 94.57 528 DA. 62 529 24.67 530 94.'73'531 Ot T8'5 53 39 94.83'533 24.88 534 24.94 535 94.99 536 95.04:537 95.09 5388 95.15 539 25.20 540 25.301542 25.36)543 25.41/544 25.46'545 25.51/546 25.57/547 95.62'548 95.67|549 25.72'550 25.78'551 25.83/552 25. 3% 553 95.93/554 95.99'555 96.04.1556 26.09'557 26.14.558 26.20'559 96.251560 96.30/561 26.351562 26.46'564 96.51565 96.56.566 26.62'567 26.67\568 26.72'569 ) 26.'77|570 26.83)571 26.88)/572 96.93'573 26.98)574 27.04575 27.09/576 27.14577 27.191578 27.25:579 27.30/580 27 .35\581 27.40\582 27.46|583 27.51/584 27561585 27.61'586 27 .67\587 27.'72\588 27..771589 27.82'590 27. 881591 27 .93.592 927.98 593 28.03)594 28.09595 28.14596 28.19597 28.24.598 9830599 28.35 600 7) ~ 53 Cents. 50 415$22.31 4308: 3 21.55/416 91.61/417 21.66418 22 21.71/419 21.77/420 21. 82 , : E 21 31.93 493 2 29,364: 92,4143 22.47 4: le OO 99 FS 99, 5 2 Ye WY Ce WY 21.98)\424 22 22.04.425 22 22.09,426 22.14.427 22.20 428 2225429 99.90441 2 92.95 442 23.00 443 23.06 444 98,45 446 2 28.51 28.56 28.61 28.66 28.72 28.77 28.82 28.87 28.93 98.984! 29.03 929,08 4: 29.14 29,19 ¢ 29,244 29,29 29.35 29.40 99,45 29.50 29.61 929.66 29.7 29.7 29.82 29.87 29.92 99 98 30.03 80.08 80.13 30.19 30, 24 |: 30.29 80,34 30,40 80,45 80.50 80.55 30.61 80.66 30.71 30,76 30,82 80.87 80.92 30.97 31.03 31.08 31,13 31.18 31,24 31.29 31.34 31.39 31.45 31.50 93.76 23.81 23.86 ¢ 4147 448 449 450 451 452 453 454 26.41563 29.56) 467 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 19] 192 193 194 195 496 L00$22.( 22.05.424 2 101 402 103 104 2 105 22 106 2 — 407 22 408 109 22 110 2% 411 2 412 22 Mis 2 414 415 2 116 10 417 9 418 419 420 a2} 2 97498 4-03 499 24.08500 24,13'501 24.19502 24.24'503 24.29'504 94.351505 24.40506 24.46'507 24..51'508 94.56 509 24.62510 24, 67 511 9A.7 (Z i512 94.78'b13 27 94.83514 24.89'515 94.94'516 5 24.99'517 95.05 518 25.10'519 25.15.520 25.21'521 25.261522 25.32'523 25.37/524 25. ea 2b 25.69'530 25.751531 25.80 532 25.85 .533 9, 25.91)534 183 : 25.96.535 26.01.5386 26.07'537 26.12.5388 26.18 539 26.23540 26.28 541 26.34'542 26.3943 26.44 544 26.50 545 26.55546 °6.61547 96.66548 26.77550 ) 26.82551 26.87 552 26.93 552 26.98 554 27.04.5565 27.09'556 2714/5567 27.20.558 7.251559 27.30560 27.36 561 27.41562 27.47/563 27.52,564 7.07565 27.63 566 27.68.567 27.73. 568 27.79.569 27.84570 27.90571 27.951572 28.00573 28.06.574 28.11:575 28.16'576 28.22'577 ) 28.3 27 578 28.33.1579 28.38 580 28.43 581 28.49 582 28.54583 98.59 584 28.65'585 28.70586 28 .'76.587 28.81 588 28.86.589 O88, 92 5 590 28.97 591 29.02'592 29.08 593 29.13594 29.19595 29.24'596 29.29 497 29.35598 29,40 599 29.45600 ¢ Cents. 22111425 22,.16426 92.89 99 88 4 9293440 29,99 441 93 04.442 93 10443 93 16444 93.91.445 3.32 447 .03 460 .09 461 oA 14 462 94.20 463 94 25 464 24,31 465 94,.36466 24.42, 467 24.47 468 3 24.64 29.56) 470 2962471 29.67)/472 29.72'473 29.78 474 29.83 4°75 29.88'476 29.94 477 29.99'478 30.05/47 80.10 480 30.15'481 30,21 30.26 483 30.31 - 30.37): 80.42 486 30.48 487 80.53 488 30.58 489 30.64 30.69 491 30.74 30.80 493 80.85 494 30.91 495 30.96 496 81.01 31.07 F1.1 S15 31.2 31.28); 31.345 31.39 504 31.44 1505 81.50 506 81.55 '507 31.60 508 31.66 509 31.71 1510 81.77\511 81,82 512 31.87 31.93 31.98 2 7 3 501 o8 32,99 401 32.14 402 89 wu ee 16$24.53 408 24.58 409 24.69 411 9A.'751412 294.80 418 2, 24.86'414 5 23.34446 ) 93.40: 147 5 25.02'417 24.91): 24.97) 25.08 418 7 25.13)419 25.19 420 23 25.24 4! 95.30 422 25.35 423 25.41/42 25.46 425 25.52 426 25.57/427 25.63 428 95.68 429 2 25.7: 74 430 25.85 514 25.90515 25.96 516 26.01 517 26.07 518 26.12519 26.18 520 26.23'521 26,29 522 26.34523 26.40 524 26.45525 2 26.51526 26.56 527 26.62528 5 20.67 529 26.73 530 26.78 531 26.84 532 26.89 533 26.95 534 27.00.535 2 27.06536 27.111537 27.17538 27.22.5389 27.28 540 27.33 541 3 27.39 542 27.44.5438 27.50 544 27.55 545 27:61546 2°27 .66.547 27.72.5648 tt i 549 27 83.550 27.88551 27 94.552 27.99.553 28.05 554 98.10555 28.16.556 99.5 16.432 28.27'558 28.32,559 28.38 560 28.43561 28.49 562 28.54563 28.60 564 28.65 565 28.71 566 28.76 567 28.82568 28.87 569 28.93 570 28.98571 29.04.572 29.09573 29.15 574 29.20'575 29 26576 29.31577 29.37578 29.42579 29.48 580 29.53581 29.59.5582 29.64583 29.70 584 29.75.585 29.81586 29.86587 29.92. 588 29.97 589 30.03590 80.08 591 80.14592 30.19593 30.25 594 30.30595 80.36.595 30.41 597 30.47598 80.52.599 -|491922,101481$25.25: 541928.40 445%: 23,92 497$26. 711549$29.51 rae: 79513828.211557$30.63 30.69 30.74 30.80 30.85 30.91 30.96 31.02 31.07 31.13 31.18 31.24 31.29 31.35 31.40 31.46 31.51 31.57 31.62 31.68 31.73 31.79 31.84 31.90 31.95 82.01 32.06 32.12 82.17 32.23 32.28 32.34 82.39 32.45 32.50 32.56 32.61 30.58 600 ¢ 5} Cents. 32.03 400822. 50! 131$94, 24 462925.99 24.30 463 24.36 464 24.41 465 5 24.47 466 24.52.467 7 24.58468 38 24.64469 22,.95 439 23.01 440 93.06 441 23.12 442 23. 7 443 23. 29.445 9346448 9351449 23.57 450 62451 93.68 452 24.69.470 24.75471 24.81 472 24.86.473 24.92 474 24.97 475 25.03.476 25.09 467 25.14478 25.20 479 25.26 480 25.31481 25.37 482 25.42. 483 53 25.48 484 25.54 485 25.59 486 } 25.65487 25.71488 25.76489 25.82.490 25.87 491 25.93 492 26.04 26.10 26.16 26.21 26.27 26.32 26.38 26.44 26.49 26.55 26.61 26.66 26.72 26.77 26.83 26.89 26.94 27.00 27.06 ais. wick 27.22 27.28 27.34 27.39 27.45 27.51 27.56 27.62 27.67554 Cents—-Continued. ere Sh ee ed ae 494 495 496 497 498 499 590 501 502 503 d04 505 506 507 508 509 510 511 512 513 514 515 516 517 518 519 520 521 2 522 523 524 525 526 527 27.79530 .84531 .90532 .96533 8.01534 8.07535 28.12.536 28.18537 28.24538 28.29539 8.35540 1541 .46 542 8.52543 7544 63549 28.69 5456 28.74547 28.80 548 28.86 549 28.91550 28.97551 29.02.552 29.08 553 29.14554 29.19555 ~_—=—— a bo bo bo bo bo wo ny bo Wo GO OO OUT He He € NW ho bok GO 90 . a 29.42 559 29.47 550 29.53 561 29.59 562 29.64563 528 29.70568 534 Cents—Continued. 29.81566 31.84 518 29.78546 31.39574 33.00/542 31.84562 29.87567 31.89 519 29.84547 31.45575 33.06.5483 31.90563 29.9268 31.95 520 29.99548 31.51576 33.12'544 31.96564 29.98 569 30.04.570 30.09571 30.15572 30.21'573 30.26574 30.32'575 30.37576 30.43577 30.49578 30.54579 ; 30.60580 30.66581 30.71'582 30.77'583 30.82 584 30.88 585 30.94585 30.99 587 31.05588 81.111589 81.16.20 31.22/591 3..271592 31.33593 81.39594 31.44595 31.50595 31.56.597 31.61598 31.67599 : 31.72.600 5} Cents. 32.01 521 239.96549 32.06 522 80.01'550 32.12 523 30.07'551 32.17 524 30.13'552 32.23'525 30.19)553 32.29'526 30.24'554 32.34:527 30.301555 32.40 528 30.86'556 32.46:'529 39.42:557 82..51/'530 30.47/558 2.57/531 30.53'559 = 32.85'536 30.82'564 ; 82.91.5387 30.88565 < 82.96 538 30.93566 ¢ 83.02 539 30.991567 : 338.07'540 31.05568 ; 88.138 541 31.11'569 33.19 542 31.16570 ; 33.24 543 31.22571 3 33.30 544 31.28572 33.36 33.41 a 92 Ay ; 33.56/001 23.5644 33 64 402 40.04 44¢ ——__405 23.'79452 406 23.85453 —!407 23.91)454 400323.00 439$25.24 478$27.48 408 23.97 455 401 402 403 404 405 405 407 408 409 410 « 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 426 421 422 423 424 425 425 427 428 429 430 431 432 433 434 435 436 437 438 23.05 440 23.11 441 25.30 479 25.36 480 23.17442 25 23.23443 25 23.29 444 5 25.59484 } 25.64.485 7 25.7048 25.76.487 25.82.488 25.87489 25.93.4909 52 25.99.491 23.80 454 23.92 455 23.98 455 24.03 457 24.09 458 24.15 459 24.21 460 24.26 461 24.32 462 24.38 463 24.44 454 24.49 355 24.55 455 24.61 457 24.67 458 24.72 469 24.78470 24.84471 24.90 472 24.95 473 25.01 474 25.07475 25.13476 25.18 477 26.05 492 26.10 493 26.16 494 26.22.495 26.28 496 26.33.497 26.39 498 26.45 499 26.51 500 26.55 501 26.62,502 26.68 503 26.74 504 26.79 505 26.85 505 26.91 507 26.97 508 27.02509 27.08510 27.14511 27.20512 27.25513 27.31514 27.87515 27.43516 27.54 409 24.03456 27.60 410 24.09 457 27.66 411 24.15458 27.71 412 24.20459 27.77.4138 24.26460 27.83414 24.32461 27.89 415 24.38 462 27.94 416 24.44463 28.00 417 24.50 464 : 28.06 418 24.56.4665 < 98.12 419 24.62 466 98.17 420 24.67467 28.23 421 24.73468 28.29 422 24.79 469 28.35 423 24.85470 98,40 424 24.91471 98.46 425 24.97472 98.52 426 25.03473 98.58 427 25.09 474 98.63 428 25.14475 98.69 429 25.20476 98.75 430 25.26.477 98.81 431 25.32478 . bo O ol. 31. 07577 33.18 545 32.02.565 62578 33.23 546 32.08566 31.68579 33.29)547 32.14567 31.74580 33.35 548 32 19568 iy 31.85582 3: 381.91583 3: 31.97584 3: Ba. 3 32.08 586 3% 3 > > > ba : > > VL Ad OO Go WA WM A NONYNNNNMNNNNLD Wd ~ « OL. 5: Cents. 26 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26 OF 21. a oO7 ee Ze I. 20 Zi. Za ts 27 Zi. 7 / o'7 al, - 3 27,85521 30.61/435 26.64490 30.01545 33.3 a 97.91522 30.67436 26.71491 30.08546 33.44 444 27.75\507 31.68570 35.62 27.96523 30.73 437 26.77492 30.14547 33.50/445 32.14:587 ; 2,.62'532 30.59'560 ; 2.681533 30.65561 ; 32..'74534 30.70562 ; 32.79'5385 30.'761568 32.37/591 43592 34.04 560 32.90580 80581 38.41/549 32.25'569 33.46/550 32.3811570 AWOL o4.c OL 81552 32.43815'72 53 32.491573 4 32..55574 » 82.61'575 ) 82.66576 26589 DO Sa. (ao0lr 311590 38.92)558 32.'78578 33.98/559 32.84579 Q3'b85 20588 3: 19593 34.10 54594 ; 60595 3 2 3 66596 34.2 72597 34.33 401 24.56 456 83599 34.44 403 24.68458 89600 34.50 104 24.75)459 ——/405 24,.81'460 406 24.87461 107 24.93)462 26 494$29.02'408 24.99'463 32495 29.08)'409 25.05:464 38496 29.14'410 25.11/465 44'497 29.20)411 25.17/466 50498 29.26 412 25.24467 55499 29.32)413 25.30/468 61500 29.37)414 25.36)469 67501 29.43)/415 25,42'470 73502 29.49'416 25.48/471 79503 29.55)417 25.54/472 85504 29.61)/418 25.60/473 91505 29.67/419 25.66)474 .97506 29.73 420 25.73475 .02507 29.79)421 25.79/476 08508 29.84.422 25,85,477 .14509 29.90/423 25,91/478 20510 29.96 424 25.97479 26511 30.02 425 26.03.480 32512 30.08 426 26.09481 88513 30.14 427 26.15482 44514 30.20,428 26,22'483 49515 30.26,429 26,28484 55516 30.31 430 26.34.485 61517 30.37.4381 26,.40'486 .67518 30.43/432 26.46)487 73519 30.49 433 26,52:488 79520 30.55 4384 26.58)489 57 Cents—Continued. |] COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. 5 64 Cents—Continued. 493$27.73529$29.76 565$31.78 517$29.73 545$31.34'573$32.95 541931. 78561932. 96581$34.13 565834. 61577835.341589836.08 33.02582 34.19 566 34.67578 35.40590 36.14 33.08583 34.25 567 34.73579 35.46591 36.20 33.13584 34.31'568 34.79580 35.53592 36.26 33.19585 34.371569 34.85581 35.59593 36.32 83 25586 34.43'570 34.91582 35.65594 36.38 83.31587 34.491571 34.97583 35.711595 36.44 33.87588 34.54.572 35.04'584 35.77596 36.51 33.43589 34.60.5738 35.10585 35.83597 36.57 33.49590 34.66.574 35.16586 35.89598 36.63 33.55591 34.72.5575 35.22587 35.95599 36.69 33.60592 34.78 576 35.28588 36.02600 36.75 S2-66503 S481 > = ee ae 33.72.594 34.90! 6; Cents. Se COND Of OOllsase Sra eee ee 53 1b9G 35/01 400825.00463$28,93526 32.87 33'°90507 35.07 401 25.06464 29.00527 32.92 31 02509 35.19 403 25.18466 29.12529 33.06 3407600 35,26 404 25.25467 29.18530 33.12 1405 25.31/468 29.251531 33.18 15 6: Cents. 406 25.37469 29.31532 33.25 ——]407 25.48)470 29.37.5338 33.31 1 ah See ee eamene anime oe ee ale ss 97 400$24..50/455$27.87510$31.24 408 25.50471 29.431534 33.37 27.93511 31.30,409 25.56472 29.50535 33.43 27.99512 31.36/410 25.62.473 29.56}536 33.50 28.05513 31.42)411 25.68474 29.62'587 33.56 28.11514 31.48/412 25.75 475 29.68)538 33.62 28.18515 31.54/413 25.81476 29.'75539 33.68 28.24516 31.60.414 25.87477 29.81540 33.75 28.30517 31.67}415 25.93478 29.871541 33.81 28.36518 31.73)/416 26.00/'479 29.93\542 33.87 28.42'519 31.79 417 26.06)/480 30.00\543 33.93 28.48520 31.85 418 26.12'481 30.06)544 34.00 28.54521 31.91/419 26.18/482 30.12/545 34.06 28.61522 31.97 420 26.25483 30.18\546 34.12 28.67523 32.03)421 26.31484 30.25547 34.18 28.73524 32.09422 26.37'485 30.31548 34.25 28.79525 32.16 423 26.43486 30.37549 34.31 28.85526 32.22 424 26.50487 30.43550 34.37 28.91527 32.28 425 26.56488 30.501551 34.43 28.97}528 32.34426 26.62489 30.56552 34.50 29.03529 32.40.4427 26.68490 30.62\553 34.56 29.10530 32.46,428 26.75491 30.68)554 34.62 29.16531 32.52429 26.81/492 30.75)555 34.68 29,22532 32.59 430 26.87'493 30.81/556 34.75 29,28533 32.65/431 26.931494 30.87)557 34.81 29.34534 32.71/482 27.00/495 30.93)558 34.87 29.40535 32.77.4383 27.06'496 31.00559 34.93 29.46536 32.83 484 27.12\497 31.06}560 35.00 29.52.5387 32.89/485 27.18498 31.12561 35.06 29.59538 32.95/436 27.25499 31.18}562 35.12 29.65539 33.01/487 27.31/500 31.25563 35.18 29,71540 33.08488 27.371501 2°.31564 35.25 29.77541 33.14439 27.43)502 31.37565 30.31 29.83 542 33.20'440 27.50|503 31.43}566 30.37 29.8943 33.26 441 27.56\504 31.50567 35.48 29.95544 33.32 442 27.62505 31.56'568 35.50 8 443 27.68)506 31.62569 35.56 7.81/508 31.75571 35.68 5 2 98.02.524 30.78.4838 26.83493 30.20548 33.57446 27.87\509 31.81572 35.75 <2 28.08.525 30.84'439 26.89494 30.26549 33.63 44 7.93\510 31.87573 30.81 98 14526 30.90.4440 26.95495 30.32550 33.69 448 28.00511 31.93574 35.87 20527 30.96 441 27.01496 96528 31.02.442 27,07/497 32529 31.08 443 27,13/498 38530 31.14 444 27.20)499 43531 31.20445 27.26500 49532 31.25.446 27.382501 30.38551 33.75 449 28.06512 32.00575 35.93 30.44552 33.81/450 28.12512 32.06576 36.00 30.50553 33.87 451 28.18514 32.12577 36.06 30.56554 33.93 452 28.25515 32.18578 36.12 30.62555 33.99 453 28.31516 32.25579 36.18 30.68556 34.06 454 28.37517 32.31580 36.25 9855533 31.31.447 27.38502 30.7455% 34.14.455 28.43518 32.37581 36.31 98 61534 31.37448 27.44503 30.80558 34.18 456 28.50519 32.43582 36.37 28.86 432 25.38479 28.92 433 25.44480 28 28.98 434 25,50481 28, 99.04 435 25,.56482 28. 29.09 436 25.61483 28, 99.15 437 25.67484 28. 29.21438 25.73485 28. 29,27 439 25.79486 29.32 440 25.85487 99.38 441 25.91488 99.44 442 25.97489 29.50 443 26.03490 99,55 444 26.08491 29.61 445 26.14492 29.67 446 26.22493 28.67535 31.43 449 Bee 28.73536 31.49 450 27.56% 98,79 537 31.55 451 27.62506 30.99561 34.36 459 28.68522 32.62585 36.56 9885538 31.61 452 27.69507 31.05562 34.42 460 28.75523 32.68586 36.62 9890539 31.67 453 27.75508 31.11563 34.48 461 28.81524 32.75587 36.68 28.96540 31.72 454 27.81509 31.18564 34.55,462 28,.87525 32.81588 36.75 30.87559 34.24 457 28.56520 32.50583 36.43 30.93560 34.30 458 28.62.5521 32.56584 36.50 * f ¢ a : E | Eee ener PO OA re eR NN a la NORES COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. i a } &% Cents—Continued. I 654 Cents—Continued. 614 Cents—Continued. te 6% Cents—Continued. _ ee — ao oes - > AK AL Sea Coes Le le nat dae a ae ad ts Sabatini 589936. 81593837. 06597 3 590 36.87594 37.12598 37.37/410 391 36.93595 37.18599 37,.43/411 592 37.00596 37.25600 37.50 412 62 “Cents. 413 414 400825.50 467$29.77534 34.04/415 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421 422 423 424 425 426 427 428 429 430 431 432 454 455 456 457 458 459 460 461 462 463 464 465 466 25.56 468 25.62.469 25.69,470 25. 75471 25.82/472 25.88'473 25.94 474 26.01'475 26.07476 26.13/477 26.20:478 26.26'479 26.33/480 26.39/481 26.45)482 26.52/483 26.58/484 26.64/485 26.'71/486 26.77/487 26.84:488 26.90489 26.96/490 27.03/491 27.09)/492 27.15/493 27.22'494. 27.281495 2'7.351496 27.41/497 27.47)493 27.54;499 27.60'500 27.66)501 27.'73)502 27.'791503 27.85)504 27.92)\505 27.981506 28.05)507 28 11/508 28.171509 28.24'510 28.30/511 2, 28.81519 28.88)520 28.94521 29.00522 29.07523 29.13'524 29.19 525 29.26'526 29.32527 29.389528 29.45 529 29.51530 29.58 531 29.64 532 29. 466 29.70533 29.83.5385 29.90.536 29.96537 30.02'538 30.091539 30.15'540 30.21/541 30.28'542 30.34/543 30.41/544 30.47/545 30.53/546 30.60:547 30. 66K 548 30.72'549 30.791550 30.85;551 30.92}552 30.98/553 3: 31.04/554 31.11/555 31 V71056 31.231057 31.30)558 31.36)559 31.43)/560 31.49/561 $1.55) oe 31.62/563 31.68! 56. 4 31.74/565 31.81/566 31.87|567 31.94/568 32.00/569 32.061570 32.15071 32.191572 32.251573 32.321574 32.381575 32.451576 32.511577 32.57/578 32.644579 82.'70;580 32.76\581 32.83'582 32.89/583 32.96\584 383.02/585 33.08/586 33.15/587 33.211588 33.27/589 33.34'590 33.40/591 33.47592 33.53'593 33.59'594 33.66595 3 33.72.596 33.78). 97 33.85598 33.91599 33.98 600 ee Cents. 400$26.00403 26.19406 26.39 408 401 26.06404 26.26407 26.45 409 2 402 26.13.405 26.32408 26.52 110 2 34.10 416 34.17/417 34.23 418 34,29)'419 34.36'420 34.42/421 34.49)/422 34.55/423 84.61|}424 84.68/425 84.74)426 84.80)/427 34.87) 428 24.93)429 35.00,430 25.07 481 35.13)432 35.19/483 35.25.4384 35 31 435 35.38/486 35.441437 35.51/438 35.5 7 48¢ ) 85.63''440 35 70 441 85.76/442 35.82)443 28 35.89)444 35.9511445 36.02)446 36.08'\447 36.14/448 36.21)449 36. OTI4 50 36.3351 36.40)452 36.46 453 36.53)454 86.591455 36.65)456 36.72457 36.78)458 36.84 459 86.91'460 36.97)461 37.04 462 837.10 463 87.16'464 87.23 )465 37.29 466 37.35 467 837.42 468 37.48 469 87.55 470 37.61 471 837.67472 37.744 Si: 804 37. 86) 7.31 |409826. 58 47330. 74.537$34.90 43 3998. 68 489$32.39 545$36.10 457930.85 505$34.09553§37. 7.33 "26.65474 30.81538 34.97 434 26.71:475 30.87539 26.78476 30.94540 96.84'477 31.00541 26.91/478 31.07542 96.97'479 31.13.5438 27.04/480 31.20544 27.10/481 31.26545 27.17/\482 31.33)}546 27.23'483 31.39'547 27.30484 31.4648 27.36485 31.52'549 27.43/486 31.58|550 27.49/487 31.65551 27.561488 31.721552 27.62\489 31.781553 27.69'490 31.85\554 27.75491 31.91\555 27.82\492 31.981556 27.88/498 82.04'557 27.951494 32.111558 98.01'495 32.17\559 98.08'496 32.24:560 28.14'497 32.30/561 98.21'498 32.37562 98.271499 32.481563 98.34'500 32.50/564 98.40'501 32.561565 98.47\502 32.63/566 98.531503 32.69\567 ) 28.60504 32.'76\568 98.66)505 32.82\569 98.73'506 32.89'570 791507 32.95\571 98.86'508 33.02.572 98.92'509 33.08'573 98.99'510 33.15'574 99.05'511 38.211575 99.12'512 33.28/576 99.18'513 33.341577 99.251\514 33.41 578 99.31'515 83.47/579 99.38516 33.54'580 29.44'517 33 60 581 99.51518 33.67582 99.57\519 33.73'583 29.64520 33.80/584 29.701521 33.86/585 99.'77'522 33.938'586 29.83'523 33.99'587 99.90'524 34.06588 99.96'525 34.12/589 80.08'526 34.19/590 80.09'527 34.251591 30.16'528 34.321592 30.22'529 34.38)593 80.29'530 34.45,594 30.351531 34. be 595 30.421582 34.58'596 30.48,533 34 6 Al 597 80.55.534 34.711598 30.611535 34.771599 30.685 36 SA. 84'600 6% Cents. 7.93 400826. 50 411$27. 23 422 97 gg 401 38 06 402 28 419 403 38.18 404 38.2 95 405 406 407 26.56.412 27.29 423 26.63413 27.36 424 26.70414 27.49.495 26.76.415 27.49.426 26.83416 27.56 427 6 26.89417 27.62428 26.96418 27.69429 27.03419 27.76430 7.09420 27.82431 27.16421 27.89 4382 35.03/435 35.10) 436 35.16/437 35.23/438 35.29)'439 85.36)/440 35.42/441 35.49) 442 35.55)443 85.62/444 35.68) 445 35.75 446 85.81' 447 35.88, 448 35.94/449 36.01 450 36.07,451 36.14)452 36.20/453 36.27) 454 836.33)/455 36.40 456 86.46'457 36.53,458 36.59 459 36.66) 460 36.72 461 36.79' 462 36.85) 463 36.92) 464 26.98) 465 37.15 466 37.11/467 37.18'468 37.24)469 37.31/470 37.37\471 37.44).472 37.50)473 37.57/47: 37.69)475 387.70'476 37.76)477 37.83'478 37.89) 479 37.96 480 38.02. 481 38.09 482 28.15 483 88.22) 484 38.28 485 38.851 486 38.41/487 38-48 488 32 88.54} 88.61 388-67 38-74 38.809 401 28.87 402 38.93 403 39.00 404 405 406 — 27.95 408 28.02.4009 28.09 410 28.15 411 28.22) 412 2 28.29'413 2 28.35 414 27 28.42'415 2 28.48 416 28 28.55 417 28.62\418 407 27 28.75 490 28.82.491 28.88 492 28.95.493 29.01'494 29.08'495 29.15.4496 29,21/497 28.28'498 29.35'499 29.41'500 29.48'501 29.54:502 29.61)503 29.68'504 29.'74,505 29.81'506 29.88 507 2994508 30.011509 30.07/510 30.14/511 30.211512 30.27/513 30.34'514 80.41/515 30.47/516 80.54'517 80.60'518 30.67/519 30.74 5 20 80.80521 30.87/522 80.94.5238 81.00 524 31.071525 31.13'526 81.20'527 31.27/528 31.83'529 31.40530 31.47/531 $1.53/532 31.60.533 31.66,534 31.73/535 81.80.536 31.86'537 81.93.5388 32.00 539 82.06.5140 32.138/541 ; 32.19\542 82.26'543 3! 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10.77 586 + 10.84587 & Ww = ro © Oo of ome Whee i Ars ra 11.00 1589 1 o1o1o1gor1o1o1o1o1d. poe oe oe oe oe oe pe > pe 11.15591 72 36.58532 41.23592 45.88 496 39.06548 173 36.66.5338 174 36.74/534 < 11.815938 45.96 11.89594 46.04 175 36.81535 41.46595 46.11 176 36.89536 ¢ 177 36.971537 ¢ 41. 478 8705538 41.70598 46.35 402 32.16 425 179 37.12.539 < 480 37.20540 « 7%, Cents. 400$31.50 415%: 101 31.58416 402 31.66417 103 31.74418 404 31.81:419 105 31.89.420 406 31.97'421 3: 407 32.05422 ¢ 3 3c 408 32.13423 3 109 32.21 424 3: 3 410 32.29.4425 ¢ 411 32.37.426 412 32.44:427 ° 413 32.52.428 5 414 32.60429 ¢ 11.7599 46.42 408 32.2426 11.85.600 46.50 404 32.32.42; 405 32.40428 406 32.48 429 407 32.56 430 32.68 430$33.86 408 32.64 431 32.76.431 33.94 409 32.72.4382 32.84432 34.02 410 32.80433 32.92.4383 34.10 411 32.88 434 33.00434 34.18 412 32.96.4385 33.07435 34.26 413 33.04.4386 8.15436 34.33 414 33.12.437 3.23487 34.41,415 33.20.4388 3.31438 34.49 416 33.28439 3.39489 34.57 417 33.36.440 3.47440 34.65 418 33.44441 3.55441 34.78 419 33.52.442 33.63442 34.81 420 33.60443 83.70.4438 384.89 421 33.68444 33.78444 34.96 422 33.76445 774 Cents—Continued. ey {Oa ors wee —| 421$32.63 481$37.28541 41.93 445$35.04 497$39.145419 43.23 400$30.50 467$35.61 534940. 72 39.22550 43.31 39.30 551$43.39 39.87552 43.47 39.45553 43.55 39.53 554 43.63 39.61555 43.'71 39.69556 43.78 39.77557 43.86 39.85558 43.94 39.93559 44.02 40.005€0 44.10 40.08561 44.18 40.16562 44.26 40.24568 44.33 40.32564 44.41 40.40565 44.49 40.48 566 44.57 40.56567 44.65 40.63568 44.73 40.71569 44.81 40.79570 44.89 40.87571 44.97 40.95572 45.04 41.03573 45.12 41.11574 45.20 41.19575 45.28 41.26576 45.36 41.34577 45.44 41.42578 45.52 41.50579 45.% 41.58 580 45.¢ 41.66581 ¢ 41.74582 45.8: 41.82583 45.91 41.89584 45.99 41.97585 46.07 42.05586 46.15 2.13587 46.23 .21588 46.380 .29589 46.38 .87590 46.46 .45591 46.54 .52592 46.62 .60593 46.70 .68594 46.78 , a a i Pr Dp mon o> Or co TOO >~I ont OD Ww ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ WWM hWhw wht 2.76595 46.86 2.84596 46.93 2.92597 47.01 43.00598 47.09 43.08599 47.17 43.15600 47.25 4 4 4 t 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 8 Cents. = 1506 46.19 400$32.00 423$33.84 446$35.68 33.92447 35.76 34.00448 35.84 34.08 449 35.92 34.16450 36.00 34.24451 36.08 34.32452 36.16 34.40453 36.24 34.48 454 36.32 34.56455 36.40 84.64456 36.48 34.72457 36.56 34.80458 36.64 34.88459 36.72 34.96 460 36.80 35.04461 36.88 35.12462 36.96 35.20463 37.04 35.28 464 37.12 35.36465 37.2 35.44466 37.28 35.52467 37.36 35.60468 37.44COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. 9 8 Cents—Continued. 84 Cents—Continued. i 814 Cents—Continued. | 834 Cents—Continued -_— FO _ ~ | 2 z sees oanace a 469$37.52 513$41.04 557$44.56 493$40.05529 42.98565 45.90'517942.65'545$44.961573 47.97 | 6.9815 470 37.60514 41.12558 44.64 494 40.14530 43.08586 45.99 518° 42,7346 45,04 574 qi Pao ab Saeee ae oF ees ran 471 37.68515 41.20559 44.72 495 40.22531 43.14567 46.07 519 42.81547 45.12575 47.43 543 45.4863 47151583 48.83 472 37.76516 4128550 44.80 496 40.30532 43.22568 46.15 520 42.90548 45.21576 47.52.544 45.5664 4704584 48°91 473 37.84517 41.36561 44.88 497 40.38533 43.30569 46.23 521 42.98549 45.29577 47.60 545 45.6465 4732585 48.99 474 37.92518 41.44562 44.96 498 40.46534 43.39570 46.31 522 43.06550 45.37578 47.68546 45.73566 47.40586 49.08 475 38.00519 41.52563 45.04 499 40.54535 43.47571 46.39 523 43.14551 45.45579 47.76547 45.81567 47.49587 49.16 476 38.08520 41.60564 45.12 500 40.62536 43.55572 46.47 524 43.23552 45.54580 47.85 548 45.90568 47.57588 49.04 477 38.16521 41.68565 45.20 501 40.70537 43.63573 46.55.525 43.31553 45.62581 47.931549 45.98569 47.65589 49.33 478 38.24522 41.76566 45.28 502 40.79538 43.71574 46.64 526 43.39554 45.70582 48.01.550 46.06570 47.74590 49.40 479 38,32523 41.84567 45.36 503 40.87539 43.79575 46.72.527 43.47555 45.79583 48.09.551 46.15571 47.82591 49 49 480 38.40524 41.92568 45.44 504 40.95540 43.87576 46.80 528 43.56556 45.87584 48.18 552 46.23572 47.91592 49.58 481 38.48525 42.00569 45.52 505 41.03541 43.95577 46.88 529 43.64557 45.95585 48.26 553 46.31573 47.99593 49.66 482 38.56526 42.08570 45.60 606 41.11542 44.04578 46.96 530 43.72558 46.03586 48.34554 46.40574 48.07504 49.75 483 38.64527 42.16571 45.68 507 41.19543 44.12579 47.04'531 43.80559 46.11587 48.42.555 46.48575 48.16595 49.83 484 38.72528 42.24572 45.76 508 41.27544 44.20580 47.12.532 43.89560 46.20588 48.511556 46.57576 48.24506 49.92 485 38.80529 42.32573 45.84 509 41.35545 44.28581 47.20 533 43.97561 46.28589 48.591557 46.65577 48.32597 50.00 486 38.88530 42.40574 45.92 510 41.44546 44.36582 47.29 534 44.05562 46.36590 48.67/558 46.73578 48.41598 50.08 487 38.95531 42.48575 46.00 511 41.52547 44.44583 47.37/535 44.13563 46.44591 48.75/559 46.82579 48.49599 50.16 488 39.04532 42.56576 46.08 512 41.60548 44.52584 47.45 536 44.22564 46.53592 48.84'560 46.90580 48.58600 50.25 489 39.12533 42.64577 46.16 513 41.68549 44.60585 47.53587 44.30565 46.61593 48.92| "Say S| Sa eee te ae 490 39.20534 42.72578 46.24.514 41.76550 44.69586 47.61/538 44.38566 46.69594 49.00| 8> Cents. 491 39.28535 42.80579 46.32 515 41.84'551 44.77587 47.69 539 44.46567 46.77595 49.08, aE 492 39.36536 42.88580 46.40 516 41.92552 44.85588 47.77 540 44.55568 46.86596 49,17 400$34.00 455$38.68'510$43.35 493 39.44537 42.97581 46.48 517 42.00553 44.93589 47.85 541 44.63569 46.94597 49,25/401 34.09456 38.76511 43.44 494 39.52538 43.04582 46.56 518 42.09554 45.01590 47.94 542 44.71570 47.02598 49.33 402 34.17.4457 38.85)512 43.52 495 39.60539 43.12583 46.64 519 42.17555 45.09591 48.02 543 44.79571 47.10599 49,41 403 34.26458 38.93'513 43.61 ) J | 496 39.68540 43.20584 46.72 520 42.25556 45.17592 48.10 544 44.88572 47.19600 49.50 404 34.34459 39.02514 43.69 497 39.76541 43.28585 46.80 521 42.33557 45.25593 48.18|.. .. .. |405 34.43460 39.10515 43.78 498 39.84542 43.36586 46.88 522 42.41558 45.34594 48.26 8; Cents. 406 34.51461 39.19}516 43.86 499 39.92543 43.44587 46.96 523 42.49559 45.42595 48: a 407 34.60462 39.27517 43.95 A ae Saye es | 500 40.00544 43.52588 47.04 524 42.57560 45.50596 48.42 400833.50 447$37.43.494$41.37 408 34.68463 39.36518 44.03 BOL 10.08545 43,60 589 ir 595 12.65 561 1338 597 48°50 401 33.58448 37.52495 41.46 409 34.7464 39.44519 44,12 502 40.16546 43.68590 47.20 526 42.74562 45.66598 48.59 402 33.66449 37.60496 41.54 410 34.85465 39.53520 44.20 603 40.24547 43.76591 47.28 527 42.82563 45.74599 48,67 403 33.75 450 37.68497 41.62/411 34.94466 39.61521 44.29 504 40.32548 43.84592 47.36 528 42.90564 45.82600 48.75 404 33.83451 37.77498 41.71 412 35.02.467 39.70522 44.37 505 40.40549 43.92593 47.44 ——/405 33.91452 37.85499 41.79'413 35.11468 39.78)}523 44.46 Par iag atone in 8} Cents. 406 34.00458 37.93500 41.88 414 35.19469 39.87524 44.54 Oy AD BGEEL da. csees fecal ————_ 407 4.08454 8.02501 41.96|415 35.281470 39.9555 44.63 20S 40.6452 4418596 477 63 400$33.00439836.21'478839.43 408 34.17455 38.10502 42.04 416 35.36471 40.04526 44.71 509 40.72553 44.24597 47.76 401 33.08440 36.30479 39.51 409 34.25456 38.19503 42.13 417 35.45472 40.12627 44.80 510 40.80554 44.32598 47.94 402 33.16441 36.38480 39,60 410 34.33457 38.27504 42.21/418 35.53473 40.21528 44.88 511 40.88555 44.40599 47.92 403 33.24442 36.46481 39.68 411 34.42458 38.36505 42.29 419 35.62474 40.291529 44.97 512 40.96556 44.48600 48.00 404 33.33443 36.54482 39.76 412 34.50459 38.44.506 42.38/420 35.70475 40.38530 45.05 405 33.41444 36,.63483 29.84 413 34.58460 38.53507 42.46 421 35.79476 40.4631 45.14 8} Cents. 406 33.49445 36.71484 39.93 414 4.67461 38.61508 42.55/422 35.87477 40.55|\532 45.22 - 407 33.57446 36.79485 40.01 415 34.75.4652 3.6900 ae oe ee ee — 400$32.50 431$35.02462 37.54 408 33.66447 36.87486 40.09 416 34.84463 38.785 .71/424 36.04479 40.72! 401 32.58432 35.10463 37.62.409 33.74448 36.96487 40.17417 34.92464 38.86511 42.80 425 36.13480 40.80}535 45.48 402 32.66.433 35.18464 37.70 410 33.82449 37.04488 40.26 418 35.00465 38.94512 42.88 426 36.21481 40.89536 45.56 403 32.74434 35.26465 37.78 411 33.90450 37.12489 40.34 419 35.09466 39.03513 42.96 427 36.0582 40.97.5387 45.65 404 32.82435 35.34466 37.86 412 33.99451 37.20490 40.42 420 35.17467 39.11514 43.05 428 36.38483 41.06538 45.73 405 32.90436 35.42467 37.94 413 34.07452 37.29491 40.50 421)35.25468 39.20515 43.13 429 36.47.484 41.14539 45.82 406 32.99437 35.50468 38.02 414 34.15453 37.37492 40.59 422 35.34469 39.28516 43.22 430 36.56/485 41.23540 45.90 407 33.07438 35.59469 38.10 415 34.23454 37.45493 40.67 423 35.42470 39.36517 43.30 431 36.64.486 41.31541 45.99 408 33.15439 35.67470 38.19 416 34.32455 37.53494 40.75 424 35.51471 39.45518 43.38 432 36.72487 41.40542 46.07 409 33.23440 35.75471 38.27 417 34.40456 37.62495 40.83 425 35.59472 39.53519 43.47 433 36.81488 41.48543 46.16 510 33.31441 35.83472 38.35 418 34.48457 37.70496 40.92 426 35.67473 39.61520 43.55 434 36.89489 41.57544 46.24 411 33.39442 35.91473 38.43 419 34.56458 37.78497 41.00 427 35.76474 39.70521 43.63 435 36.98490 41.65)545 a 412 33.47443 35.99474 38.51 420 34.65459 37.86498 41.08 428 35.84475 39.78522 43,72 436 37.06491 41.74546 ae 413 33.55444 36.07475 38.59 421 34.73460 37.95499 41.16 429 35.92476 39.87523 43.80 437 37.15\492 41.82547 46. 414 33.64445 35.15476 38.67 422 34.81461 38.03500 41.25 430 36.01477 39.95524 43.89 438 37.23493 41.91548 46.58 415 33.72446 36.24477 38.75 423 34.89462 38.11501 41.33 431 36.09478 40.03525 43.97 439 37.32494 41.99549 ae 416 3380447 3632478 38.84 424 34.98463 38.19502 41.41 432 36.18479 40.12526 44.05 440 37.40495 42.08550 He 417 33.88448 36.40479 38.92425 35.06464 38.28503 41.49.433 36.26480 40.20527 44.14 441 37.49.496 oe! oe 418 33.96449 36.48480 39.00426 35.14465 88.2650 Be ee ae pone ao fe ce 1 ee 419 34.04450 36.56481 39.08 427 35.22466 38.44505 41.66 435 36. (BTID 46 2044S oO ais 490 34.12451 36.64482 39.16 428 35.31467 38.52506 41.74 436 36.51483 40.45530 Ate OE Ee 34 90.452 36.72483 39.24 429 35.39468 38.61507 41.82437 36.59484 40.54531 44. 83) 50 192 34.99 153 36,80 484 39.32 430 35.47469 38.69508 41.91.4438 36.68485 40.62532 44.56 446 37.91501 42.59556 47.26 745 5 431 35.55470 38.77 39 36.76486 40.70533 44.64 447 38.00502 42.67/557 47.35 423 34.37454 36.89485 29.40 431 35.55470 38.77509 41.99 43 36.76 Se ee nee 42. 75558 47.44 24 AB ARR 2697486 39.49 432 35.64471 38.85510 42.07 440 5 2.775 425 3.58458 7.09487 90.5 55242 BS.MAOLL ADD HD BBAEISS AOSD A ts) se anpos a2.88500 aT. ge 4% Om 1945 65 434 35.80473 39.02% : Si 9 40.955: : : nt ‘ o oe ie sis sors 735 3g 471 3910513 42.32 443 3710490 41.04537 44.97 451 38.31506 18.01 561 47.69 49 3477459 37,29490 39.81 436 3597475 39.18514 42.40 444 37.18491 41.12538 45.06 452 3849507 48.10562 47-77 499 34.8460 9737491 39.89 437 36.05476 39.27515 42.48 445 37.26492 41.21539 45.14 453 38.5 os 430 a1 02461 3745492 39.97 438 36.1347 39.35516 42.57/446 37.35493 41.29540 45.23 454 38.59509 43. : caret we { ud 4 2 aa oe : a = : es of a_ a eye ee | { i i } : PRs Sabet Ph SIGs 2 SA So Crs PT i a ta ato 10 8% Cents—Continued. 565$48.03 577849. 05 589850. 07 589850. 81/593$5 | .15597$5 566 48.11578 49.13590 50.15)590 : 567 48.20579 49.22591 50.24 591 ! 568 48.28'580 49.30592 50.32,592 COTTON eee TABLE. 4 Cents—Continued. 50.89594 51.24598 50.98'595 61.32599 51.67 51.04596 51.41'600 51.75 (412 51.58 410° 36.39 474 411 36.48475 36.57 476 6 C vents—C ontinued. 1.50 409$36.30 473341. 981537847. 86'433$38. 97 489844. 01545$49.05 492 2, .O7 5388 42.16539 42.25 540 47.75/434 47.84 435 47,93/436 39.06,490 39.15491 39.24:492 ae ‘Cents—Continued. 44,10546 44.19547 44,28548 49.14 49,23 49.32 569 48.37581 49.39593 50.41 33 Cent 413 36.66477 42.3441 48.02/437 39.33493 44.37549 49.41 570 48.451582 49.471594 50.49] _0s V/CRUS. 414 36.75478 42.43'542 48.11/438 39.42494 44.46560 49.50 571 48.54583 49.561595 50.58/400235.00.467$40. 87 534946. 73,415 36.84479 42.52'543 48.20/439 39.51.495 44.56 551 49.59 B72 48.62584 49.64596 50.66)401 35.09.4168 40.95535 46.82416 36.92480 42.6054 48.28/440 39.60406 44.6452 49.68 573 48.71585 49.73597 50.75/402 35.18469 41.04536 46,90 417 37.01481 42.69545 48.37)441 39.69:497 44,73553 49.77 574 48 79586 49.81/598 50.83/403 35.27470 41.13537 46.9 19-418 37.10482 42.78)546 48.46)442 39.78 498 44.82.554 49.86 By5 48.88587 49.90599 50.92/404 35.35471 41.22538 47.08419 37.19483 42.87547 48.55/443 39.87409 44.91 555 49.96 576 48.96588 49. 98600 51.00/405 35.44472 41.30539 47.17 420 37.28484 42.96548 48.64)444 39.96500 45.00556 50.04 1406 35.53473 41.39540 47.25/421 37.37,485 43.05549 48.73/445 40.05501 45.095657 50.13 8: Cents. '407 35.62474 41.48541 47.34)422 37.46486 43.14550 48.82'446 40.14502 45.18558 50.22 aed Sr one a 7A “1408 35.70475 41.57542 47.13/423 37.55487 43.2351 48.91447 40.23503 45.27559 50.31 400834..50/463$39.94.52 6$45.37 1409 35.79476 41.65543 77.52.424 37.63488 43.31552 48,99/448 40.32504 45.36560 50.40 401 34.59464 40.02527 45.46]449 95°99477 41.74644 47.60 425 37.72489 43.40553 49.08/449 40.41505 45.45561 50.49 402 34.68465 40.11528 45.54 441 35/97478 41.83545 47.69 426 37.81490 43.4904 49.17/450 40.50506 45.54562 50.58 403 34.76466 40.20529 45.63\449 36.06479 41.92546 47.78 427 37.90491 43.58555 49.26 451 40.59507 45.63563 50.67 404 34.85467 40.28530 45.721413 36141480 42.00547 47.87/428 37.99492 43.67556 49.35/42 40.68508 45.72564 50.76 405 34.94468 40.37531 45.80) 414 36'93.481 42.0948 47.95 429 38.08493 43.76557 49.44 453 40.77509 45.81565 5C.§6 406 35.02.469 40.46532 45.89/415 36.321489 4.18549 48.04 120 38.17494 43.85558 49.53.454 40.86510 45.90566 50.94 407 35.11/470 40.52533 45. 98; M446 3640483 42.27550 48.13/431 38.26495 43.94559 49.62.455 40.95611 45.99567 51.03 408 35.19471 40.63534 46.06 417 36 49.484 42.35 551 48.22432 38.34496 44.02560 49.70456 41.04512 46.08568 51.12 409 35.28472 40. fae 46.15)413 36.58485 42.44552 48.30433 38.43497 44.11561 49.79/457 41.13513 46.17 569 51.21 410 35.37473 40.80536 46.23}419 36°97486 42.5353 48.39/434 38.52498 44.20562 49.88,458 41.22514 46.26570 51.30 411 35.45:474 40. 89537 46.: OL 420 36.75.487 42.62/554 48 481435 88 61499 44.29563 49,97) 459 41.31515 46.35571 51.39 412 35.541475 40.97)538 46.41/45) 35°91488 4270555 48.57/46 38.70500 44.38564 50.06,460 41.40516 46.44572 51.48 413 35.63/476 41. 0653 9 46.49 192, 36.93/489 42.79556 48.65 187 38.79501 44. 17565 50.15461 41.49517 46.53573 51.57 414 35.71/477 41.15540 46.58\493 37.92.4490 42.881557 48.74/438 38.88 502 44.56566 50.24 462 41.58518 46.62574 51.66 415 35.80/478 41. 23,541 46. Oy 194 37.10!491 42.971558 48°83 189 3897503 44.65567 50.33/463 41.67519 46.71575 51.75 416 35.88479 41.8242 46.75] 495 37'19492 43.05559 48,92 440 39.05504 44.73568 50.41/464 41.76520 46.80576 51.84 417 35.97480 41.40)543 46.84) 496 97°08.493 43.14560 49.00/441 39.14505 44.S2569 50.50/465 41.85521 46.89577 51.93 418 36.06481 41.49544 46.92) 497 37'37494 43.23561 49.09)442 39.23506 44.91570 50.59/466 41.94522 46.98578 52.02 419 36.14/482 41.58545 47.01) 49 37 45.495 43.32562 49.18 443 3932507 45.00571 50.68467 42.03523 47.07579 52.11 420 36.23/183 41.66546 47.10)499 37.54.496 43.40563 49.27 144 39.41508 45.09572 50.77 468 42.12524 47.16580 52.20 491 36.32/484 41.75)547 47.18) 439 37°63497 43.49564 49.35 445 39.50509 45.18573 50.86/469 42.21525 47.25581 52.29 492 6.40485 41.84548 47.27) 431 37°72,498 43.5805 49.44 446 39.50510 45.27574 50.95/470 42.30526 47.3482 52.88 423 36.49486 41.92/549 47.36) 459 37.80.499 43.67)566 49.53 447 39.68511 45.36575 51.0447] 42.39527 47.43583 52.47 424 36.571487 42.01/550 47.44) 435 37's9500 43.7567 49.62 448 39.76512 45.44576 51.12.472 42.48 528 47.52584 52.56 425 36.6488 42.09'551 47.53\494 37'98501 43.84568 49.70 449 39.85513 45.5357 51.21/473 42.57 529 47.61585 52.65 426 36.75}489 42.18}502 47.61 12F 328 07502 43.93569 49.79 450 39.94514 45.62578 51.30/474 42.66530 47.70586 52.7 427 36.83490 42.27553 47.701 435 38'15503 44.02570 49.88 451 40.03515 45.71579 51.39,475 42.75531 47.79587 52.83 428 36,92491 42.35 554 47.79 437 35,94504 4410571 49.97 452 40.12516 45.80580 51.48 476 42.8452 47.88588 52.92 a2) BU ae aoe 47-87) 438 38.33505 44.19572 50.05,453 40.21517 45.89581 51.57 477 42.93533 47.97589 63.01 430 37.09493 42.5306 47.96) 499 39°42506 44.28573 50.14 454 40.30518 45.98582 51.66/478 43.02534 48.06590 53.10 431 37.18404 42.61557 48.05 449 38.50507 44.3774 50.23,455 40.39519 46.07 583 1.75479 43.1158 48.50 008 53.19 432 37.26495 42.70558 48.13\447 38.59508 44.45575 50.32 456 40.47520 46.15584 51.83 480 43,20536 48.24592 53.28 433 37.35496 42.78559 48.22 449 38°63509 44.54576 50.40+407 40.56521 46.24585 51.92 481 43.20537 48.33.5083 53.37 434 37.4497 42.87560 48.3043 38°76 510 44.6357 50.49 458 40.6552 46.33586 52.01,482 43.38538 48.42504 53.46 435 37.52498 42.96561 48.9444 38 84511 4472578 50.58 459 40.74523 46.42587 52.10 483 48.47559 48.5) 595 53.55 436 37.61/499 43.04562 48.48 445 38°93512 44.80579 50.67 460 40.83524 46.51588 52.19 484 43.56540 48.60596 53.64 5 UN lal ae 48.56 146 39.02513 44.89580 50.75 461 40.925: 25 46.60589 52.28 485 43.65541 48.69597 53.73 OL TU AR a 48.65) 447 39111514 44.98581 50.84.462 41.01526 46.69590 52.37 486 43.74542 48.78598 53.82 439 37.87502 43.0565 48.74 448 3919515 45.0782 50.93 463 41.10 27 46:78591 52.46 487 43.83543 48.87599 53.91 440 37.95503 43.39566 48.82 449 3998516 45.15583 51.02 464 41.18528 46.86592 52.54 488 43.92544 48.96600 54.00 441 38.04'504 43.47567 48.91 459 3937517 45.24584 51.10.4605 41.27529 46.95593 52.62 o 442 8.13505 43.56568 48.99 454 39'46518 45.33585 51.19 466 41.36530 47.04504 52.72 93 Cents. 443 38.21506 43.65569 49.08 455 39'54519 45.42586 51.28 467 41.45531 47.13595 52.81)-— 1 444 88.30/507 43.73:570 49.17 ABQ § ‘ 39 63) 520 45 50.587 51 id 168 41 74.582 4'7 99596 52 on 400836. 36.50 4198: 38, 23438839. 96 445 38.39508 43.82571 49.25 154. 39791591 45 BORRR 5 45 469 41.6352 Q9 47.31597 52.99 401 36.59420 38.32.4389 40.05 446 38.47509 43.91572 49.34)4°— 39'o1\509 45 68.580 51.64470 41.72534 4740508 53.08 402 36.68421 38.41440 40.15 447 38.56'510 43.99.5738 49.43 456 39 60523 45.7 77 BQ) 51.63 471 41.81535 17.49 599 53.17 403 36.77422 38.50441 40.24 448 38.6451 44.08574 49.51 457 3999594 45.85591 51.72.472 41.8956 47.57.600 53.25 404 36.86423 38.50add 20.20 449 38.73512 44.16575 49.60 4-9 Ao qgnon 4594502 51.80 "405 36.95424 38.69443 40.42 450 38.82513 44.25576 49.68 429 4047506 46.03593 51.89 9 Cents. 406 37.04425 88.78 444 40.51 451 38.90514 44.3457 49.77 4e9 49.95507 4612594 51.98 407 37.13426 38.87}445 40.60 452 38.99515 4442578 49.86 404 aq 215908 46 20595 52.07 400$36.00411$36.99 422$37.98 408 37.23427 38.96 446 40.69 453 39.08516 44.51579 49.94 seo an 49509 4629506 52.15 101 36.09412 37.08423 38,07 409 37.32428 39.05447 40.78 454 39.16517 44.60580 50.03 sas 49'n9530 4638507 52.24 402 36.18413 37.17424 38.16 410 37.41429 39.1448 40.88 455 39.25518 44.68581 50.12 404 an e031. 4647508 52.33 403 36.27414 37.26425 38.25 411 37.50430 39. 23/449 40.97 456 39.33519 44.77582 50.20 genx 40 99532 4655509 52.42 104 36.36415 37.35426 38.34 412 37.59431 39.32450 41.06 457 39.42520 44.85583 50.29 see 49°78533 46.64.600 52.50 409 36.45416 37.44427 38.43 413 37.68432 39.4245! 41.15 458 39.51521 44.94584 50.37 le erecta 04-0V''406 36.54417 37.53428 38.52.414 37.77483 39.51452 41.24 459 39.59522 45.03585 50.46 8i Cents. 107 36.63418 7.62429 38.61 415 37°86434 39.60/453 41.33 460 39.68528 45.11586 461 39.77524 45.20587 50.59, 50.63 401 30.59 404 ¢ 100$35.50 L03$35.77 406%: 35.86: 107 462 39.85525 45. 29 5f 588 50. 72 402 385. R8 ¢ 105 ¢ 35.95 : 408 SS eS 36.04 408 36.13 409 36.72.419 36.81 420 36.21'410 36.90 421 37.71.430 37.80431 37.89.4382 38.70 416 38.79, 417 38. 88 418 37.96 435 38.05 436 38. 144387 39.69454 39.78.455 39.87 456 41.42 41.51 41.6]— COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. — % Cents—Continued. — | 94 Cents—Continued. | 457$41.70505$46.08155 1951 458 41.79.5606 459 41.88507 460 41.97508 461 42.06509 462 42.15510 463 42.24511 464 42.34512 465 42.43513 466 42.52514 467 42.61515 468 42.70516 469 42.79517 470 42.88518 471 42.97519 472 43.07520 473 43.16521 474 43.25522 475 43.34523 476 43.43524 477 43.52525 478 43.61526 479 43.70527 480 43.80528 481 43.89529 482 43.98530 483 44.07531 484 44.16532 485 44.25533 485 44.34534 487 44.43535 488 44.53536 489 44.62537 490 44.71538 491 44.80539 492 44.89540 493 44.98 541 494 45.07542 495 45.16543 496 45.26544 497 45.35545 498 45.44546 499 45.53547 500 45.62.548 501 45.71549 502 45.80550 503 45.89.551 504 45.99552 ee | 3$50.46 481$44.49521$48.19561951.89 46.17554 50.55.482 44.58522 46.26555 50.64/483 44.67523 46.35556 50.73/484 44.77524 46.44557 50.82/485 44.86525 46.53'558 50.91/486 44.95'526 46.62559 51.00/487 45.04:527 46. 72.560 46.81561 46.90 562 46.99.563 51.10/488 45.14528 51.19)489 45.23529 51.28/490 45.32530 51.37/491 45.41/531 il i I 9% Cents—Continued. | 914 Cents—Continued. 505$47.341537§50.341569$58.94 599950,251553852.5357 7854.8) 48,.28562 51.98/606 47.43538 50.43570 53.43'580 50.355554 52.63578 54.91 48.37563 52.07'607 47.53539 50.53'571 53.53 531 50.445555 52.721579 55.00 48.47564 52.17/508 47.69540 50.62'572 53.62'582 50.54.556 52.82'580 55.10 48.56565 52.26:509 47.71'541 50.711573 53.711533 50.63'557 52.911581 55.19 48.65566 52.35 510 47.81/542 50.81/574 53.81'534 50.73558 53.01/582 55.29 58.90'535 50.821559 58.101583 55.38 54.00.5536 50.92.560 53.201584 55.48 54.09 '537 51.01561 53.291585 55.57 54.18/538 51.11562 53.391586 55.67 48.74.5667 52.44 511 47.90543 50.90575 48.84.568 52.54.512 48.001544 51.00:576 48.93569 52.63.5138 48.09'545 51.09'577 49.02.570 52.72)514 48.18546 51.18'578 47.08564 51.46\492 47.17565 51.55'493 47.26566 51.64'494 47.35567 51.73 495 47.45.568 47.54569 47.63570 47.72571 47.81 572 47.90573 47.99574 48.08 575 48.18576 48.27577 48.36578 48.45579 48.54580 48.63581 48.72,582 48.81583 48.91 584 49.00585 49.09 586 49.18587 49.27588 49.36 589 49.45 590 49.54591 49.64592 49.73593 49.82 594 49.91 595 50.00 596 50.09 597 50.18598 50.37 600 4 51.83) 496 51.92)497 52.01/498 52.10/499 52.19) 500 52.28)501 52.37|502 52.46\503 52.55) 504 52.65) 505 52.74)505 52.83/507 §2.92''508 53.01 509 53.10'510 53.191511 53.29 512 53.38)513 53.47 514 53.56)515 53.65'516 53.74'517 53.83 518 53.92 519 54.02 520 mei > 54.20 aa 54.38 400$37.504 45.51/5382 45.60533 45.69 534 45.78'535 45.88'536 45.97'537 46.06'538 46.15'539 46.25540 4$.34541 46.43'542 46.52543 46.62544 46.71545 46.80546 46.89 547 46.99 548 47.08549 47.17550 47.26551 47.36552 47.45553 47.54.5654 47.63555 47.73556 47.82.557 47.91558 48.00 559 49.11671 52.81/515 48.28)547 51.28'579 49,21572 52.91'516 49.30573 53.00)517 49.39574 53.09)518 49.48575 53.18/519 49.58576 53.28)520 49.67577 53.37 /521 49.76578 53.46 522 49.85579 53.55)523 49.95'580 53.65/524 50.04'581 53.74)525 50.13582 53,83)526 50.22583 53.92,527 50.32,584 54.02/528 50.41585 54,11 529 50.50586 54.20 530 50.59587 54.29 531 50.695588 54.39 532 50.78,589 54.48 533 50.87590 54.57 534 50.96591 54.66 535 51.15593 54.85 51.24594 54.94 51.83595 55.03) 48.37548 48.46,549 51.37\580 51.46/581 48.56'550 51.56)582 48.65}551 51.655583 48.75,552 51.75'584. 48.84553 51.84:585 54.28 539 51.20'563 53.48'587 55.76 54.37'540 51.30'564 53.58'588 55.86 54.46'541 51.38.1565 53.67589 55.95 54.56 /542 51.49'566 53.77590 56.05 54.65,543 51.58567 53.86'591 56.14 54.75 544 51.68568 54.96\592 56.24 48.93554 49.03555 49.12.556 49.21557 49.31558 49.40 559 49.50 560 49.59 561 49.68 562 49.78 563 49.87 564 54.84 545 51.77569 54.05/593 56.33 51.93586 54.93.546 51.87570 54.15594 56.48 52.03587 55.03 547 51.96571 54.24'595 56.52 52.12'588 55.12,548 52.06572 54.34596 56.62 52.21589 55.21'549 52.15573 54.43597 56.71 52.31/590 55.31'550 52.25574 54.53598 56.81 52.40591 55.40.551 52.384575 54.62599 56.90 52.50592 55.50 552 52.44576 54.72600 57.00 52.59.5593 55.59); 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| i : aa a ad edna ees oo ous alts Sis ts CSO ERY a a re 54 Cents—Continue a. 553953. 22 569354. 76 585$56. 30 57 7$56.26 585$57.04 593F Bn 14594 5 aa COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. ” OR Cette = = 554 53. 32.570. 54.86586 56.40 578 56.36 586 555 53.41571 54.95587 556 53.51572 557 53.61573 558 53.70574 559 53.80575 560 53.90576 561 53.99577 562 54.0957 563 54.18579 564 54.28 580 565 54.38581 566 54.47582 567 54.57583 568 54.67584 55.05588 55.15589 55.24'590 55.34591 55.44:592 55.53 593 55.63 594 55.72595 596 55.92.597 56.01 598 55.82 56.11 59¢ 56.49) 579 56.59 580 56.69 581 56.78) 582 56.88 583 56.98 584 oe 57.17 57. 28 56. 46 587 ( 56.55588 56.651589 56.75|590 56.85591 56. 94. 592 7.24595 58 or 83 596 57.43597 57.53598 57.63599 9% Cents—Continued. 57.92 401 40.60 468 58.02 402 58.11 403 58.21 58.31 58.41 404 405 406 57.72600 58.50 407 97 Cents. 57.36 400$39. 50l4¢ 4 67346. 12.534$52.74 46.22.5385 46.32536 5 46,42537 46,52.538 57. 46 401 57.55 402 57.65 403 56. 21600 o7. 75 404 93 Cents. 405 406 407 400839. 00 459844, 76 51 8$50.51) 408 401 39.10460° 402 39.20461 403 39.30462 404 39.39,463 405 39.49/464 406 39.59/465 407 39.69.4466 408 39.78467 409 39.88.468 410 39.98469 411 40.08/470 412 40.17471 413 40.27|472 414 40.37473 415 40.47/474 416 40.56475 417 40.66/476 418 40.7647 419 40.86478 420 40.95/479 421 41.05480 422 41.15481 423 41.25482 42A 41.34/483 495 41.44/484 426 41.54485 427 41.64/486 428 41.73/487 429 41.83/488 430 41.93/489 431 42.03/490 432 42.12/491 433 42.221492 434 42.32/493 435 42.42/494 436 42.51/495 437 42.61496 438 42.71/497 439 42.81498 440 42.90499 441 43.00500 442 43.10501 443 43.20502 444 43.291503 445 43.391504 446 43.49505 447 43.59506 448 43,.68507 449 43.78508 450 43.88509 451 43.98510 452 44.0751 453 44.17/512 454 44,27513 455 44.37514 456 44.46515 457 44.56516 458 44.66517 44.85519 44,.95.520 45.05521 45.15|522 45.24'523 45.34:524 45.44'525 45.54'526 45.63'527 45.73/528 45.83.529 45.93/530 46.02'531 46.12/532 46.22'583 46.32'534 46.41/535 46.51'536 46.61587 52 46.71538 46.80539 46.90540 52 47.0041 47.10/542 47:19\543 47,.29'544 47.391545 47.49 546 47.58547 47.68'548 47.78549 47.88550 47.97 551 48.07552 48.17553 48.27'554 48.36555 48.46556 48.56.557 48.66558 48.75 559 48.85.5560 48.95 561 49.05 562 49.14563 49,24 564 49.34565 49.44 566 49.53567 49.63 568 49.73 569 49.83570 49,92571 50.02'572 50.12'573 50.22574 50.31575 50.41576 50.61)409 50 70/410 50.80 411 50.90 412 51.00 (413 51.09) 414 51.19) 415 51.29)416 51.39 417 51.48 418 51.58)\419 51.68 420 51.78)/421 51.87)422 51.97)/423 52.07 424 52.1'7||425 52.26 426 .86,427 52.46) 428 52.56)429 .65 480 62.7 75/431 52.85) 432 52.95) 4383 53.04.4384 53.14/4385 53.24'436 53.34'437 53.43 4388 53.53)}4389 53.63) 440 53.'73)441 53.82) 442 53.92) 443 54.03 444 54.12'445 54,21) 446 54.31) 447 54.41 448 54.51)/449 54.60 450 54,70)451 54.80 452 54.90) 453 55.00, 454 55.09 455 55.19 456 55.29) 457 55.38 458 55.48) 459 55.58 460 55.68 461 55.77 462 55.87) 463 55.97 464 & 56.07 465 56.16 466 39.60/468 33.70/469 39.80/470 89.90/47 40.00/472 40.10/473 409.20/474 40.29\475 40.39|476 40.49|477 40.59|478 40.69|479 40.79'!480 40.89/481 40.99\482 41.08) 483 41.18 484 41.28/485 41.38'486 41.48/487 41.58488 41.68 489 41.78490 41.87491 41.97/492 42.07.4938 42..17/494 42..27'495 42..37|496 42..47|497 42.57/498 42..66'499 42..'76:500 42.86'501 42..96.502 43.06'503 43.161504 43.26'505 43.36506 48.45507 43.55508 43.65.509 48.75510 43.85'511 43.95'512 44.05513 44.15514 44.24'515 44.34'516 44.44517 44,54'518 44.64'519 44.7452 44.84'521 44,94 522 45.03 523 45.13524 45.23525 cn oor oor 5 Ol at ee Be oO bo ~I 45.92)532 46.02'533 52.64600 59,25 465.61539 46. 46. 46 47 47 47. 47. 47. 47.5 47. 477. 47,8( 47 48. 48. 48. 48. 48.¢ 48.: 48. 48. 48. 48. 48. 49. 49, 49: 49.¢ 49. 419.5 49, 49, 49. 49. 50. 50. 50. 50.3 50.: 50. 50. 50. 50. 50. 51 51 51.2 0 61.; 51. 51. Bl. 51.7 Bl. °6 51 52 71540 811541 .911542 .01'5438 11/544 21/545 31/546 40547 )548 70\550 551 .90.552 18|565 { 381567 | 37 577 471 578 | 6 586 35.587 15588 55589 65.590 de Bie 591 85'592 £95593 92.05 594 60549 ! 00553 5 10554 5: 19555 5 29.556 5: 19% 558 55 5G559 ! 69560 55. 791561 5 89562 5 98'563 55 08 564 ot 28'566 5B, 48568 5 8569 5 681570 5 T7671 56 87572 56 971573 65 07/574 56 171575 6 27 576 ° ) 52.84 2.93 a > ER EFSSESLSGGSORK WH OOo — a) mi 2) bo 2 NWNWNMNMNMNMNMNWWWH ¥3 83 So Se O11 gtr = oro o1go1gt Org arg or yt 54.4! 5GB79 | 57 66580 5 "6581 5 86582 5 96583 57.5 .06:584 57 .16585 & 01.1 { 57.87 57.97 58.07 58.17 58,27 58.37 58.46 58.56 58.66 52.14595 58.76 52..24'596 52 .84597 58.86 58.96 408 409 410 £11 412 413 3/414 415 4 3,416 4: 417 118 4! 419 420 4 421 422 423 455 46 40.70 469 40.80470 40.90 471 41.00472 41.10473 41.20.474 41.81475 41.41476 41.51477 41.61478 41.71 479 41.81'480 41.91481 2.01 482 2..12'483 2..22'484 2.32485 42.42'486 42..52\487 2..62'488 2.72489 282.490 .94501 44.04.502 44.14'503 44.24504 44,34505 44.44506 44.55507 44.65508 44,7755509 44.85510 44.95511 45.05512 45.155138 45.25'514 52 § 45.386'515 52 45.46 516 52. 156 46 157 46.2 158 46.; 3459 46 460 7\461 162 463 464 465 466 400341. 401 402 103 104 105 52.44598 59.06) 406 52 .54599 59.16 107 408 46.57527 53 46.67528 46.77/529 46.87530 46.98 531 47.08 532 47.18'533 2 49.811559 47.385 35 54.16 47.48536 54.27 77.58 537 54.37 47.68538 54,47 47.79539 54.57} 47.89540 54.67 47,.99541 54.77 48.09542 54.87 48.191543 54.97 48.29544 55.08 48.39545 55,18 48.49'546 55,28 48.60/547 55,38 48.70548 55,48 48.80/549 55.58 48.90550 55.68 49.00\551 55,78 49.10\552 55,89 49.20553 55,99 49.301554 56,09 49.411555 56,19 49.51'556 56,29 49.61'557 56,39 49.711558 56.49 56,59 49.91560 56.70 50.01:561 56,80 5 50.11'5562 56,90 50.22'563 57,00 7 560.82'564 57,10 } 50.49.1565 57.20 a ee 50. 52566 57.30 50.62'567 57.40 50.72'568 57.51 50.821569 57.61 50.92'570 57.71 51.03.5571 57.81 51.13'572 57.91 51.23'573 58.01 51.881574 58.11 51.43/575 58.21 51.53'576 58.32 51.63\577 58.42 51.73/578 51.84'579 58.62 51.94'580 58.'72 .04'581 58.82 14/582 58.92 241583 59.02 .341584 59.13 441585 59.23 541586 59.38 .65'587 59.43 751588 59.53 85589 59.63 52.95'590 59.73 53.05/591 59.83 538.15'592 59.94)~ o1ror1rorg cs PY S Cyl LOU ONO ONS oS i SY Pe 7526 53.25593 60.04 .851594 60.14 '- 53.461595 60.24 58.56596 60.34 53.661597 60.44 58.761598 60.54 53.86'599 60.64 58.96'600 60.75 O} Cents. 41.10410 41.20411 41.30 412 41.41413 41.51 414 41.61 415 41,71416 41. 82 417 00 409341.92.418342.84 42.02419 42.94 42.12:'420 48.05 42.23'421 48.15 42.33'422 48.25 42.43423 438.35 42.53 424 43.46 42.64425 43.56 42.74 426 43.66 58.52) 4 10 4 { Cents—Continued. 428 43.87486 429 438.97487 480 44.07488 431 44.17489 432 44.28490 4383 44.388491 434 44.48 492 485 44.58'493 436 44.69'494 437 44.79)495 488 44.89496 439 44.99}497 440 45.10/498 441 45.20.4499 442 45.30500 443 45.40)/501 444 45.51'502 145 45.61503 446 45.71504 447 45.81/505 448 45.92'506 449 46.02507 450 46.12'508 451 46.22/509 152 46.33/510 153 46.43/511 454 46.53/512 Sro1or1vozporwotpor1e 455 46.63513 52 456 46.74514 457 46.84515 52 458 46.94516 459 47.04517 460 47.15518 461 4'7.25519 462 47.35520 463 47.45521 464 47.56522 465 47.66523 466 47.76524 467 47.86525 168 47.97\526 469 48.07527 470 48.17\528 71 48.27'529 2 48.38'530 3 48.48 531 4 48.58 532 5 48.68533 ) 48.79 534 477 48.895385 478 48.99536 £ 479 49.09 537 480 49.20588 481 49.30539 482 49.40 540 483 49.50 541 484 49.61542 57.82 40040.59 467$47.28 534$54.06 427343. 76 485$49. 71543856. 65 49.81544 55.76 49.91545 55.86 50.02546 55.96 50.12.547 56.06 50.22.548 56.17 50.32549 56.27 50.43.550 56.37 50.53551 56.47 50.63552 56.58 50.73'553 56.68 50.84.5554 56.78 50.94.5655 56.88 51.04556 56.99 51.14557 57.09 51.25558 57.19 51.35559 57.29 51.45 560 57.40 51.55561 57.5C 51.66.562 57.60 51.76'563 57.7 51.86.564 57.81 51.96.565 57.91 52.07566 58.01 52.17\567 58.11 §2.27 568 58.22 52.37569 58.32 52.481570 58.42 .58'571 58.52 52.68572 58.63 £78573 58.73 52.89574 58.83 52.99575 58.93 53.091576 59.04 53.191577 59.14 53.80578 59.24 53.40'579 59.34 53.50580 59.45 53.60581 59.55 53.71'582 59.65 53.81583 59.75 53.91584 59.86 54.01 585 59.96 54.12 586 60.06 54.22587 60.16 54°32.588 60.27 54.42.589 60.37 54.538590 60.47 54.63591 60.57 54.73.592 60.68 54.83.5593 60.78 54,94594 60.88 5.04595 60.98 .14596 61.09 .24597 61.19 .30598 61.29 55.45599 61.39 55. 55.600 61. 50 mS oor? 5 BE BE 5 10% Cents. 400841. 50 417$43.26 434$45.02 401 41.60418 402 41.70419 403 41.81420 404 41.91 421 105 42.01 422 406 42.12423 407 42.22424 408 42.33 425 409 42.43 426 410 42.53 427 411 42.64 428 412 42.74429 413 42.84430 414 42.95 431 415 48.05 482 416 48.16 483 43.36435 45.13 43.47486 45.23 43.57487 45.33 43.674388 45.44 43.78439 45.54 43.88 440 45.65 43.99 441 = 75 44.19 443 45°96 44.30444 46.06 44.40445 46.16 4450446 46.27 44.61447 46.37 44.71448 46.48 44.82.449 46.58 44.92 450 46.68COTTON SELLER’S TABLE. 13 ee es 1084 Cenis—( ontinued, 457$46.79'464948. 14477849. 4814908: 50.83.5038 3952.18 516953. 53520854. 881541856. 12/553 452" 46.89465"48.21.475" 4950491" 60.04 904 52.2911 8 CaSD Ok Sota oa aoe OT 9.86 5880.10 453 46.99466 48.34479 49.69492 51.04505 52.39518 53.74531 55.09543 56.33555 57.58567 58.82579 60.07591 61.31 454 47.10467 48.45 480 49.80493 51.14506 52.49519 53.84532 55.19544 56.44556 57.68568 58.93580 6017592 61.42 455 47.20468 48.55481 49.90494 51.25507 52.60520 53.95533 55.29545 56.54557 57.78569 59.03581 60.27593 61.52 456 47.31469 48.65482 50.00495 51.35508 52.70521 54.05534 55.40546 56.64558 57.89570 59.13582 60.38594 61.62 457 47.41470 48.76483 50.11496 51.46509 52.80522 54.15535 55.50547 56.75559 57.99571 59.24583 60.48595 61.73 458 47.51471 48.86484 50.21497 51.56510 52.91523 54.26536 55.61548 56.84560 5810572 59.34584. 60.59596 61.82 459 47.62472 48.97485 50.31498 51.66511 53.01524 54.36537 55.71549 56.95561 58.20573 59.44585 60.69597 61.93 460 47.72473 49.07486 50.42499 51.77512 53.12525 54.46538 55.81550 57.06562 58.30574 59.55586 60.79598 62.04 461 47.82474 49.17 487 50.5250 SL 53.22.526 54.57539 55.92551 57.16563 58.41575 59.65587 60.90599 62.14 82 47.93475 49.28488 50.63501 51.97514 53.32527 54.67540 56.02552 57.27564 58.51576 59.76! 463 48.03476 49.38489 50.73502 52.08515 53.43528 54.78 ee os ogee Phe + NOTE.—When cotton is selling at a higher price than the figures in this table show, you should double the price per pound that is printed in the table. For example: When cotton is selling at 12 cents, it will be twice the amount printed in the 6 cents column. When selling at 18'/, cents, it will be twice the amount printed in the 6°%/, cents column, and so on up to 20 cents a pound. BUILDERS’ RULES. PRICE OF WOOD PER CORD. ExpLANATION.—Find the number of feet in the left-hand column of the table, then the price in dollars and cents at the top of the table, and trace the line and eolumn until they meet, and you will find the amount in dollars and cents. Rate Per Cord. 2.50 | $2.75 | $3.00 | $3.25 3.50 | $4.00 $4.5 0) $5.00 | $5. 50 | $6. 00 Ft. | $1.50 | $1.75 | $2 00 $2.20 19 11 Of 01 \1 O24) ..02 4, 02 02 | 02°) 02.1. 08.) 03 |. oa. 202 | 08 pw | on |. os) os | 0) 04 08) 05) 054k OG 07} 407d tes in 208 ) 9 \4 04 05 oe | 206 .07 0731 .08 | .09 10 | od: 2 14 4 fe; 206 | 06 07 08 09 | .09 10 TO) Sree 4 Ais 8 5 06} 207 .08 09 10 th ore to lo eae Sue | .19 | 21 .23 6 07 oat 09 |. 1) 12 34 4, gto) 6 Pl ee 21 = | ee 28 | 16) 11) .12|, 14 | 15). .16) 1% |: 19 ee Fe ee ea ee ft. Op 1] 42 4 ait 16 18 19 20. | 2h to Pe 28 nl | 48! on 16 t= 049 32 |. 2D 28 1°} Bb 37 40) .43| .49| .56} .62/ .68 | .74 24} .28 is | 87 | 240.) 447 | 62). 456 | <6 bs Obel 76 14 8t | 2087) 1.08) se 32 .38 44 .50 56 63 69 tb OL a oad | 1.00 | 1.12 1.25 oe 1.50 AO) AT 55 | .63 70 78) 86°) .94 | 1.02 ) 400) 1.25 | 140 1.56 1.72 1.87 48 .56 66 1D 84 94 | 1.03 | 1.12 | 1.22 | 1.3 | 1.50 1.68 1.87 2.06 2.25 56 | .61 ey | eat) 9k 00 | £20 lee) tae | 1.53 | 1.75 1.96 2.18 | 2.40 2.62 64 | 75 aot 260 | 4.338) 125) 1.88) | woe 1.62 | 1.75 | 2.00 Bee 25 | 2.50 2.75 3.00 72 1: 284 oe | 1.19 | 1,27 (41 | Lod} Eee ee 1.96 | 2.29 22Da | 2.81 3.09 3.37 80 94 1-08 | 1.25 | 1.41 [56 | Tere, | 1:88 |. 2.08 | 2.18 | 2.50 2.51 0.10 3.4: 3,74 e41.-99 11.15 | 1.31 | 1.48 | 1.64] 1.81 | 1.97 | 2.18 | 2.20 | 2.62 2.95 3.28 3.60 3.94 93 | 1.03 | 1.20 | 1.38 | 1.55 | 1.72 | 1.89 | 2.06 | 2.23 | 2.40 | 2.75 | 3.09 | 3.43 | 3.78 | 4.12 92 | 1.08 | 1.26 | 1.44 | 1.62 1.80 | 1.98 | 2.15 | 2.08 | 2.51 | 2.87 8.23 3.59 pe 4.30 naa 44% 7 1.81'|' 1.50 | 1.69.) 1.55), 2.06 | 2.20 | 2.44 | 2.62 | 3.00 et 8.18 4.12 4.49 104 | 1.22 | 1.42 | 1.63 | 1.88 | 2.03 | 2.23 | 2.44 | 2.64 | 2.84 | 3.25 | ap 4.05 | 4.47 | 4.78 119.1 2:3 169.) 7.75 |. 1:07 | 210) 248 eee | 2.84 | 3.06 | 3.50 | 8.93 4.38 | 4.80 | 5.24 1964-17-41 | 1.64 | 1.88 | 2-11 | 2.84 | 2.68 | 2.81 | 3.05 | 3.28 | 3.75 4.91 | 4.68 | 5.15 | 5.62 i 50. he (5 | 2.00 2. 25 x50 1 2:75 | B00") 3.20 | 3.50 | 4.00 | 4.50 | 5.00 | 5.50 | 6.00 128 | a ae a a ae S| | | a. ; | oe en | SAN ne Be ee NeGe weet van ee ee Sot oe a ea * tn olin PtP { } : : | : : } al SPORE OTR LIN ES Ml DRED wn a hr" 14 BUILDERS’ RULES. How to Find the Number of Common Brick in a Wall or Building. A Bricx is 8 inches long, 4 inches wide and two inches thick, and contains 64 cubic imehes. Twenty-seven brick make one cubic foot of wall without mortar, and it takes from 20 to 22. bricks according to the amount of mortar used to make a cubic foot of wall with mortar. Rule—Multiply the length of the wall in feet by the height in feet, and that by ws thickness in feet, and then multiply that result by 20, and the product will be the num- ser of bricks in the wall. Example: How many bricks in a wall 8 feet long, 20 feet high, and 18 inches thick ? Solution: 30 length x 20 height > 14 thick - 900 x 20 = 18,000. Ans. N. B.—For a wall 8 inches thick, multiply the length in feet by the height in feet, and that result by 1o, and the product will equal the number of bricks. ‘Vhen doors and windows occur in the w all, multiply their height, width and thick- ness together, and deduct the amount from the solid contents of the wall before multiply- ing bv 20 or 15, as the case may be. METHOD FOR MEASURING LUMBER. 1. A Foor or LuMBER is one foot long, one foot wide and one inch thick. Prece Sturr or DIMENSION STUFF is lumber that is two or more inches thick and of uniform width and length. 8. ScCANTLING is usually from three to four inches wide and from two to four inches thick. 4 Jorst is 2-inch lumber of any width. PLANK is two inches in thickness and wider than a scantling. R ule J for 12-foot Boards: Find the width of the boards un inches and add together, and the sum obtained will be equal to the number of feet in the pile. (Hach inch wm width equals one foot of lumber.) Note: Use no fractions. If a board is between 9 and 10 inches wide, but nearer 9 than 10, call vt 9; uf nearer 10 than 9, call zt 10. lf it 78 Jd eall tt either 9 or 10. For 14- -feet Boards, add the width of the boards in inches, and to the sum add } ca] 6 of itself, and the result will equal the number of feet in the pile. For 16-feet Iwmber, add the width of the haance in inches and to that sum add 3 of itself, and you will have the number Or. feet in the pile. Example: How many feet of lumber in 10 boards, 9 inches wide, and 16 feet long ! Solution, 10x9—90. 1 of 90=80. 30490—120, the number of feet.iar Ceuie se BUILDERS’ RULES. 14 How to Find the Number of Shingles Required for a Roof. Rule.-—Multiply the length of the ridge pole by twice the length on one rafter, and, y the shingles are to be exposed 4% inches to the weather, multiply by 8, and of exposea 5 inches to the weather, multiply by T, and you have the number of shingles. Notr.—Shingles are 16 inches long, and average about 4 inches wide. put up in bundles of 250 each. They are How to Find the Number of Laths for a Room. Rule.—Find the number of square yards in the room, and multiply by 16, and the result will be the number of latis. Notr.—Laths are usually 4 feet long, and 1 inch wide, and + inch thick. It is estimated that 1,000 laths, set + of an inch apart, cover about 55 square yards. How to Find the Number of Cords in a Pile of Wood. A cord of wood is a pile 8 feet long, 4 feet wide and 4 feet high and contains 128 cubic feet. Rule.—Multiply the length in feet by the width in feet and that result by the length un feet and divide the product by 128 and You have the number of cords. Example: How many cords in 2 pile of wood 4 feet wide, i feet high, 24 feet long? 2, Solution: 4 x 7 x 24 — 672 cubic feet. 672 + 128 — di cords. Ans, The Actual Weight of Dry Pine Lumber. Te. wt; « « Olbs. perf | White Pine Hloorme. . . 1:2. tbe per a: a a AD ee 4 | Norway Pooring . . 3) 2°3 2: * cc Pee averieoueh). . . 26 *& “ ) Shingles: >) ea. . 20m ew meee ts taresscd). . .. 23. & >| Laths 2.05 eee B00 58 ut aM Joists, Scantling and Timber Measurement. eet t a LENGTH IN FEET. Size in ae LENGTH IN FEET. Inches. | 12 | 14} 16 48) 20) 22) 24) 26 28130 Inches.| 32) 14) 16/ 18{ 20 | 22 | 24 ) 26 | 28 | 30 g | 2 | | 16) 17) eh x12| 48| 56| 64| 72| 80] 8%| 96| 104] 112} 12¢ ; = 4 ‘3 | 14 3 18 * a 24 | 26 | 28 | 80]; 6x 36 42} 48| 54] 60] 66 72 | 78 84 | 90 2x $ | 16! 19] 21| 24] 27] +29] 32 | 85] 87] 40|| 6x 8 | 48) 56] 64) 72| 80| 88] 96 | 104) 112 | 120 2x10; 2 | 984 27.) 804 88.1). 87 40] 481. 47 50 |i-:6 = 10 60 | 70 | 80} 90 | 100 | 110 | 120 | 130 | 140 | 150 2x “el 24 | 98 | 321 36 ij) 44 ( 481 62) 66) CU oO x 12 72 | 84} 96 | 108 | 120 | 186 | 144 | 156 | 168 | 180 32 4) 12| 14] 16| 18| 20] 22] 24] 26] 28] 30|/-8x 8 | 64] 75| 85 | 96 | 107 | 117 | 128 | 139 | 149 | 160 3 x 6 18 2] 24 | 27 20 33 86 1 39 42 45 S = 1h | $0) 93:| 107 | 120 | 133 | 147 | 160 173 187 | 20C on g| 24] 28| 32] 36 40 | 44 | 48 52} 56] 60|| 8x12 | 96 | 112 | 128] 144 | 160 | 176 | 192 | 208 | 224 | 240 . - 10 30 35 40) 45 | 5? 55 60 65 TO Ae 10 x 10: | 100 baliy 1 1388) P50 jet67 183 Li 2O0R Ziv ose po Da int tei ft 48 | 64{ 6] 66 | 721 78] 84| 904/10 x 12 | 120 | 140 | 160 | 180 | 200 | 220 | 240 | 260 | 280 | 300 gx) ie! 19] 21| 24] 27| 29] 32] 35] 37] 40||12 x 12 | 144 | 168 | 192 | 216 | 240 | 264 | 288 | 812 | 336 | 360 . ; o4| 281 32] 36] 40| 44] 48] 52 56 | 60 ||12 x 14 | 168 | 196 | 224 | 252 | 280 | 808 | 336 | 364 | 392 | 428 4 . 3| 32| 37| 43] 48] 53} 59! 64] 69] 75| 80//14x 14 | 196 | 229 | 261 | 294 | 327 | 359 | 392 | 425 | 457 | 49@ 4x10} 401 47| 58} 60] 671 73{ 80] 87{ 93] 1001) ae ~ Example: od 0 MEASURE. —_— lala lIaelololrlalalolalialmali[sfpoloinm|& slolewele lec oS it le milal «a le be gsiriim (rtietirt pret pepe N N N N N N N N N MN C <7 on oD ~~ = = = oidigdigisgigig Sra iainiatiaisa leis oj ¢ cf = = : = = cf cj =| = qj qf q HiSIRIZISlalalalalaisialaeiaisiaiai/saisi/s|\sis 2isiaeisil|ai\aei/a/ajiaia SIS ISI SIS ISI SIS IS IS(SiSiSiSislsislaiaials SiSi( 818i SiS iata le 5 A100 ~ ~ ~ A ~ = ~ a = ~ ~ = ~ =~ = = = =~ - ~ = ~ ~ ~ ~ AIA IA IA IR AIR IR IR IA eR Re Re Rae — — — — — — — — — “ i = = fan cond 4 10| 49] 61| 72} 89} 99]116138'150/175/190|209,235|252 287'313'342| 363) 381| 411) 408) 460) 490) 500 547) 577) 644 667| 700! 752) 795! 840] 872 11) 54) 67| 79 98!109)127/147/165)192/209/230/259/278315344/3877, 400) 419 151! 448) 506) 569] 550) 602) 634) 718) 734) 770 828) 874) 924) 959 2) 59) 7% 86/107/119}139 160}180)210)228 251)283}303 344373411 436) 457) 498) 522) 552) 588) 600; 657) 692) 772; 801) 840) 903 954 1007 1046 aoe 13) 64 73 93/116/129]150'173/195'227/247 27 2/306/328/373/408/445) 478) 495) 534) 570 598) 637 650) 712) 750) 886 868) 910 978103810911134 ue 69} 85/100/125/139'162 187/21012451266129213301353/401'4391479| 509) 533) 575) 622) 644) 686) 700) 766 807) 901) 984) 9801053/1113, 11751221 15) 64 91 107/134'149]173|200/225/262/2851313)/353/379)4380)/469)514) 545) 571) 616) 666) 690 735, 750 821) 865) 965.1001 1050 1129 119212691309 16, 79} °97/114/142/159185)}215 3 240! 980/3041334/377/404/45915001548) 582) 609) 657) 710) 736) 784) 800) 876, 923)1029 1068 1120'1204'1272'1348 1896 17| 831103/1221151/168) 196/227/2551297/3231355/400/429)478531/582) 618 647) 698, 756 789) 883) 850 9380) 9801094:11341190,127 91351 14271483 18) 88)109|129/160/178)208'* 240} 270131513421376/424/454/516/562'616) 654) 685) 739 799) 828! 882) 900) 985)1088 1158 1201 1260,1854)1421)1511 1570 19) 93/116/136/169|188)219/253 285'332)/361/397/447/480 5451 1941650} 692) 723) 780) 843) 874) 931) 950)1040)109t 1229 1968 1830 1430 1; 510 15951658 20} 98)122/143)17 811981232'267/300'350380:418'470505'573 625 684 728| 761) 821) 888) 920 980 1000 10951152 1287 1335,1400 15051590 16 791745 Zz 21/103/128/150|187/208/243!280/315|368'399)439)495'530/602\656/719) 764) 800, 863 932 966 1027 1050115012101 3511401 14 70.1580 1669|1763 1832 22 LOS ASS 7|L96)215}255 298) 890/885/418 460515 5563 1/688)702 800) 888) 904, 976 1012 107 ca 00 1204,1268)1426 1458 1540 1656 17491847 1919 23/113/140)164 205 228 266 307 345'403 437 480542 .581)/659'719 78 837) 876) 945 1021/1058)1127 1501159113991 490'1595'161017311182811 9812006 1761 POs aSsOl1646i 602 1680 1806 1908 2015 2094 ' : | : | 94'118'146/172 214/238'278 320/360/420/456 501/566!606 688 7! 8189] 873) 914) 98610651104 1 951123/152'179/223/248/289133313751438147515221589163 117171781850) 910) 952,102711109'1150 12 ~ 1250 1369114381609 1668 1750 18811987 2099 2182 How to Use the Log Table. First find the average diameter of the log by adding together the two ends of the log, in inches; then divide by two and the result will equal the average diameter, then apply the above table Example—How many feet of lumber is there in a log 15 inches at one end and 21 inches at the other, and 22 feet long ‘ en : po or? > ‘--£ eC . Solution.—15 + 21 = 36 one-half of 36 =18 inches, the average diameter. LEBEL AR win Fenihen geese” ; : — Then refer to the column under {8 inches opposite of 22 and you will find the answer—293 feet. oe Na Sieben ii oi tees GeeBUILDERS’ RULES. 17 eS. pat a aened ow Sos UA Flow to Ascertain the Number of Feet (Board Measure) in a Log. Rule: Subtract fro pg ae oe era. - ss ' = ps os uotract fi Om the diamete? of the log in anches, 4. inches (for slabs), one- ourth of thes result squared ani ne . ; sore e an a ] a and multiplied by the length in feet, will give the correct amount of lumber made from any log. Kxample.—How many feet of lumber can be made from a log which is 36 inches . . . Ss ise in diameter and 10 feet long ? Solution.—From 36 (diameter) subtract 4 (for slabs) = 32 | - Take 4+ of 32 = 8, which multiplied by itself equals 64, m ’ A ; hen multiply 64 by 10 (length) = 640. Ans. _ ) pee ae ~ mee . 73 RB Sie e * ry ae Ropp’s Rute: Square the diameter in inches and subtract 60 from the result. then 14s Lh ae multiply this result by Sees A eyo Tee : itiply this result by the length and divide by 2, and cut off the right hand figure. How to Reduce Logs to Square Timber. 2 * Vj i , ho an At > or oo . 5 3 . Rule: Multiply the square of the diameter in inches by the length of the log in feet and divide the result by 300, and the result will equal the number of cubic feet. Example. How many cubic feet in a log 30 inches in diameter and 20 feet long ? Solution.—30 x 30 x 20 + 800 = Ans. 60 eubie feet. A COMPLETE SET OF CARPENTER’S RULES. Plain, Simple and Practical. i: aoe 4 ie : a: a 3 | 1, THE GABLE is a space the form of a triangle on the end of a building, with a common double roof. 2. QUARTER Pitcu.—Is a roof that is one-fourth as high as the width of the building. 7 ee a eo : : ® D iS ~ Wee Bo A a Be Pe oe ae 24 feet. Rule.—To find the area of a gable end, multiply the width of the building by th height of the roof, and take one-half of the result. Or, uf the roof ws “ quarter pitch,” find the area by multiplying the width of the roof by % of atself. 3. To find the number of feet of stock boards to cover a house or barn. Rule.—Multiply the distance around the barn by the height of the posts, and to this result add the area of the two gable ends. should be made for them.) 4, SurneLes.—There are 250 shingles in a bunch. Rule.— Nine hundred shingles, laid 4 inches to the weather, will cover 100 square feet, and 800 shingles, laid 44 inches to the weather, will cover 100 square feet. 5. Fioors AND Sipinc.—To find the number of feet of six inch matched flooriny for a given floor. Find the number of square feet of surface to be covered, and add ¢ of itself to it, and the result will be the required number of feet. 49 (If there are many openings, allowance SSG Bi 3 Se RB nS SABA ANAC CE HADES Eeas: ee ee | : fre Fn ESA is Ga ee oe lie he ad 8 a Pe Aas a Siting) RG BUILDERS’ RULES. 6. For 3-IncH FLOORING. Find the number of square feet to be covered, to which add 4 of itself. [ (ATH —ov In & bunch. Contractor’ s Rule—One bunch of lath will cover 3 square yards. x ~ as \ \ ne 2 \ % a \ @ ti BSS Pe My j oA x ' Sj p 8 S | ~~ s 2 | a 20 ft. 16 10 ft. How to Find the Height of a Tree. Suppose you desire a log 30 feet long, measure off from the base of the tree 30 feet (allow for the height of the stump), then measure ten feet back, and put your ten-foot pole at 5, let some one hold it the height of the stump from the ground, then put your eye at e, looking over the top of the pole at c, and where the eye strikes the tree at a, will be 80 feet from a. WV. B.—This rule will apply to any tree, or any height. The principles hold true in any case. How to Find the Height by Measuring the Shadow. Ruite.—Measure a pole, and hold it perpendicular wm the sun, and measure ite shadow, then measure the shadow of the tree whose height is desired. Then multiply the length of the pole by the length of the tree's shadow, and divide the product by the length of the shadow of the pole, and the result will be the height of the tree. Example: If a pole 3 feet long casts a shadow 44 feet long what is the heigut of @ tree whose shadow measures 180 feet ? Solution: 180 x 3 + 44 = 120 feet, the height of the tree.BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG COMPRISING CAPTIVATING NARRATIVES OF SCENES AND EVENTS the earth. She in turn became the tempter of Adam, who yielded to her persuasions, as She did to those of the serpent. ‘This is the Script- ural narrative of the fall of our first parents. Having been created holy in the image of God, by one great act of folly they lost their first estate. ADAM AND EvE DRIVEN FROM PARADISE.—The banishment of the gcuilty pair from the bowers of Eden followed their sin. They were startled by a voice which was heard in the garden in the cool of the day. Suddenly alarmed, they hid themselves among the trees and endeavored to escape. Fear was awakened when it was too late, and THE FALL OF OUR First PARENTS.—The/|the Lord God having called unto Adam, he Bible begins with an account of the creation | was put on trial for his sin, and both he and ofthe world. The sun, moon andstars, the land | Eve were driven forth from their happy home. and vater, the trees, plants and an- imals, were made, and the whole work was pronounced to be very good. Then Adam was formed from the dust of the earth, a living soul was breathed into him, and Oy we , : vate ’ 4 TIE is, Pr oe “4 y es ‘, i : nN J THE FALL OF OUR FIRST PARENTS—Gen. 111. 6. Eve was given to be his companion and helpmeet. — = CNT, of NM (tl eee \ NW ENV SSW PO a Wee SSS Van cuaa NY hei us LMI \ Phy q WAYS EMIT SEY A a eee re + a RUTH GLEANING IN THE FIELD OF BOAZ.—Rutt ii. 5.BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. 13 Davip and Apicait—We hav: here an interesting incident in the life of David. On one occasion he was encamped near the residence of a man named Nabal, who was noted for his meanness. He was unneighborly and ill-tempered. Al- though David’s men were hungry, Nabal refused to allow them to take even one sheep from his flocks which were feeding near. When David sent some of his men to ob- tain food, they returned without any, and reported that Nabal had treated them and their master with contempt. Theanger of David was aroused, and choosing four hundred men he set out to deal with Nabal as he deserved. Nabal’s wife, a beautiful woman named Abigail, Davip AND JONATHAN.—Saul, the king of | heard of her husband’s insolence, and taking Israel, was anxious that his son Jonathan|a number of asses and loading them with food, should finally come to the throne, and as he | and mounting one herself, she started to meet knew David was likely to be made king, he} David, to appease his anger, and save Nabal wished to pu! David to death. David andj from the merited chastisement. In this she Jonathan were firm friends. When Jonathan} was successful; her appeal to David was not became aware of his father’s plot, he sent in vain. A few days after this Nabal died, ana David away from the palace. Saul was en-' David obtained Abigail to be his wife. raged, declaring that his son could never be king so long as his rival! was alive. But Jonathan was more anxious to insure the safety of the one he dearly loved than he was to pain the throne, and they agreed upon a sign. David was to hide behind a rock, and Jonathan would shoot three arrows, and send a lad to pick them up. If Jonathan should call to the lad that the arrows were on one side of him, David would know that Saul was no longer an- Sty; if the arrows were on the other side, David must flee for his life. David was compelled to flee, and the two friends separated after promising to continue their love for be each other, and each gave expres- === i = oa Sion to his crief at parting. DAVID AND ABIGAIL,.—1 Sam. xxv- 32, 3s. Tae een era la cA AT c ila Billo Seated ee 4 as BS OE ee SL i ea fost eee a as RP Re ee eet OT a RO Te ee eT A aR NER IOI EDR Soe RCAC RII Pc eee eae P pe Rete Xd A * re ln) Pao et eee a a v414 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. SAUL AND THE WITCH OF ENDOR.—2z Sam. xxviii. 16, 17. ELIJAH AND THE Wi1pDow’s Son —The prophet Elijah came at a time when a dreadful famine was in the land. He was sent to a poor widow at Sarepta, with whom he was to live for a while, and share her scanty store. She had only a handful of meal in her barrel, and a little oil in her cruse; but being requested by the prophet to prepare him some- thing to eat, she cheerfully com- plied, and was assured that her stock of food would not grow less. Neither the barrel nor the cruse failed, a happy instance of the re- ward that comes to those who are willing to bless others. At length the son of the widow died. In her distress and grief she appealed to Elijah, whose heart was touched by Kine SAUL AND THE WitcuH.—Saul wasin|he sorrow. He took the child away to his great trouble because his enemies, the Philis-| own chamber, and called on God. The cry tines, were preparing to make war against him.| of the prophet was answered, and we have here They had a large army, and Saul was afraid| the picture of a life restored, and a dead son they would obtain the victory. In his alarm he! returned to his mother to be her comfort and sought the Lord, but on account of his sins the} joy. Now more than ever the woman was Lord would not answer him. Saul consulted! convinced that Elijah was a man of God, and a woman at Endor who professed to have! was endowed with miraculous power. control over spirits that would come when she called them. Although saul had sence many such persons out of the kingdom, maintaining that they were deceivers, yet he was ready to consult this woman. He disguised himself; went to her at night, and asked to have an inter- view with Samuel, who had been dead many years. Saul was told that the Lord had forsaken him, that he would lose the kingdom and it would be given to David, that the Philistines would obtain the victory, and on the morrow he and his sons would be among the dead. All this came to pass as had been foretold. David was an upright man, well fitted to reign, and he was made king in the place of Saul. THE WIDOW'S SON RESTORED TO LIFE.—1 Kings xvii. 2%.Sie wr hy Me VP a BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG, THE CHARIOt OF Eryau.— We are told that the manner of Elijah’s departure from the earth was in keeping with his extraordinary career. He had made a powerful impression upon the nation, remark- able deeds had been performed by him, and when his earthly life was ended he was translated without suffering death, He and Elisha iE were walking together, and Elisha ick Baa eee Sra a he et eT OA Roma enasacrate: Ae a es Sa cs mye Per expressed the earnest desire that < 4 fal oa double portion of the spirit of his friend and companion might rest upon himself. Elijah replied that this was a hard thing to be granted, but if Elisha should see him when he departed, the blessing which was sought might be obtained. Sud- denly there appeared a chariot of Eryan AT Mount Hores.—FElijah in his| fire, with flaming steeds, and Elijah was soon flight from Jezebel, who was seeking his poe to view. Elisha exclaimed, “ My father, because he showed how false was the religion | my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horse- of her prophets, came to a juniper tree in the|men thereof!” The chariot and horseme desert. Here an angel brought him food that! were emblems of power and victory, and the gave him strength for forty days. He con-| exclamation meant that Elijah was the grea tinued his flight to a rocky mount namedjhelper and defender of Israel. His mantle, Horeb. Here he lodged in a cave, and the| fell toward the earth, and Elisha secured it. word of the Lord asked him what he was doing there. He replied that he had been very jealous for the religion of the God of Israel, had thrown down the altars of false prophets, and his enemies were now seeking his life. He was directed fo go and stand on the mount. A strong wind rent the mountains and broke the rock in pieces, but the Lord was not in the wind. After this came an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. Then a fire appeared, but the Lord was* not in this. When all these had passed there came a still, small voice, and the prophet knew that God was there. He was directed to return and finish the work that had been given him to do. ROSEN LNT ttc sea Pee a ee eT rials rit : SS ites a Se aN Ne on Be AE RN Se NIE ee ee tae aren ee Ne A opine GOD APPEARING TO ELIJAH.—1 Kings xix. 11, 12, -_ 3 OM ct THE TRANSLATION OF ELIJAH.—2 Kings ii.16 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG JUDITH AND HOLOFERNES.—Ju- dith was a Hebrew women of strong will, great decision of character, and in her blind zeal, capable of any deed which she thought would pro- mote her religion and confound God’s enemies. She was even ready to take human life, and commit the crime of murder, under pretence of thereby accomplishing some gcod. Holofernes was considered to be the enemy of her nation, and” believing she had authority to de- stroy all such she took his life. Pre= tending to be friendly, she gained ] access to his tent, fascinated him by~ her beauty and wit, gained his con-= fidence by fair speeches, and soon 7 Ze had him completely in her power: DANIEL IN THE LIONS’ DEN.—Dan. vi. 19, 20. When he was under the influence DANIEL AMONG THE Lions.—At the time|of wine she took down his falchion, and with of the captivity, when the greater part of the|a double blow severed his head from the | Jewish nation was carried away to Babylon, a body and handed it over to her maid. Hem remarkable youth was among the number. |plot had succeeded, and her deed was ap Daniel secured the favor of the king of) plauded by her own people. When they saw Babylon by his interpretation of dreams, and ‘her at the gate of the city with the head of his study, upright character. He believed in| 'Holofernes, they praised God for thus deliver- the religion of the Hebrews, and when com- ing them from the hand of their enemy. manded to cease performing his re- ligious duties for a certain number of days, he flatly refused. Some jealously had been excited against him on account of the power he had gained in the nation, and his enemies thought they would obtain ad- vantage over him by forbidding him to pray, under penalty of being cast into a den of lions. The king’s heart was troubled, but having signed the law he was resolved to carry itinto execution. Daniel was cast to the wild beasts, and early in the morning the king hastened to see what was his fate. Daniel assured him that his God was able to shut the mouths of lions, and, by His angel, had already done it, so that he was unharmed. a : JUDITH BEHEADS HOLOFERNES.—Judith xiii. 9, 10,— € sons Se SR See ene SY oa; ioe Seae ateted SARRAA ON CONAN RNS ORS SASSER, Rex cecsteionaanaen ioe is 4a, eH cam) a io a Fa A} Re eee i ee fae * De eR oe ee ay en .ym ee bets 4 = ~ name hala a | i i ) | f ewe ks ~ SESE tee ta oe eae dee ~ Aa Ne Selina 3BIBLE STORIES FOR THE BIRTH OF JOHN THE BAPTIST.—Luke 4. 62-fig. JoHN THE Baprisr.—lIt was foretold by the| people. The happy announcement was mad* prophet Malachi that previous to the advent, of Christ a forerunner, or prophet, would appear to prepare the way for him. His duty would be to call the people to repentance, and hand. During the reign of King Herod in Judzea there was a priest named Zacharias; the name of his wife was Elizabeth. An angel appeared to Zacharias one day in the Temple, and announced that he would have a son, and was to give him the name of John. Zacharias was told that he would be unable to speak until the child was born. The people wondered why the priest remained so long in the Temple, and when he came out they saw that he was dumb. The promised son was born, and when he was eight days old he was brought to the Temple. The people wished to name him after his father, but the mother insisted upon calling him John. They objected because none of his kindred bore that name, but Zacharias wrote ona tablet that John was to he the child’s name. ii THE ANGEL AND SHEPHERDS —Luke ii. to, 22, YOUNG. 17 THE ANGEL ANNOUNCES THE Saviour’s BirtH.—In Judza, near the village of Bethlehem, there were shepherds who watched their flocks by night. The time had come fer Christ to be born. As far back as the days of Adam and Eve the Divine assurance had been given that the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the serpent, and sin would be destroyed. The birth of John the Baptist was the sure sign that one greater than John would soon come. As the shep- herds were guarding their flocks one night an angel suddenly visited them. They were afraid, but were told by the angel not to fear, for a message of great joy had been sent to them, which was to be for all that a Saviour was born in Bethlehem, Suddenly a multitude of the heavenly host appeared, praising God, and saying, “ Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” The shepherds hastened to Bethlehem, and, to their surprise and joy, found that what the angel told them was true. oer er ne rr tas ete + BCC I ae G : : | 4 AQIS Bafta gn MAAC I SE NRE Caf a Rota ROO pene ON Ne ee Roeee i, = Sut nn ene ante Lt ts on am LOW EEN ON hn ee eet eta be A 8) Pee eh aioe — a. ax eae ee eee ee ots Sabet) Ser 18 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.—Luke ii. ro-32, YOUNG. Tue Fuicut into Ecypr.—The parents of Jesus brought him to the Temple at Jerusalem. They could not remain there; their first concern was to save the young life committed to their love and care. They knew the cruelty of Herod, and his wicked design to slay the children, in the hope that Jesus would be among the number. They obeyed the Divine warning, and taking their young treasure fled with all possible speed to Egypt, a country which was outside of Herod’s dominions. There was a place of safety, and having reached it, they remained until the death of Herod put an end to his ambition and cruelty. Then the angel of the Lord appeared again unto Joseph, THe Nativity—The shepherds who had } assured him that those who sought the life of heard the song of the angels and the statement | the child were dead, and directed him to return that a Saviour had been born, left their flocks | to his own country. He did so, and made his and went to Bethlehem to see what had come | home in the despised town of Nazareth, where to pass. Naturally excited over the glad! the early life of Jesus was spent. Thus the tidings brought to them, they made haste, and | prophecies were fulfilled that Israel’s ruler when they arrived in the village they were re- | would come out of Egypt and would be a de- warded by a sight of the new-born child. | spised Nazarene, one of the poor and lowly There they found Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. The shepherds having _ satisfied themselves of the truth of the mes- sage brought by the angei, hurried away with the joyful news, and spread the glad tidings to others. All who heard what had happened were filled with wonder. We are told that Mary, the mother of Jesus, kept these things in her heart, and thought about them. The shep- herds returned to their flocks, glo- rifying and praising God for all the things they had seen and heard. This is the peautiful description given us of the birth of Jesus. Every Christmas we celebrate the advent of Christ, whose name is Wonderful, AW kw, POG NY 7 -— Seiten... FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.—Matt. ii ra, 28,Leite oes ; ees BIBLE STORIES FOR THE “YOUNG. iv Jesus BRouGHT TO THE TEMPLE. —As already stated, when Jesus was eight days old His parents brought Him to the Temple to make an offering of two pigeons, accord- ing to Jewish custom. ‘There was a good old man at Jerusalem namec Simeon. It had been revealed to him by the Spirit that he should not die until he had seen Jesus. He was directed to go to the Temple, and when Joseph and Mary appeared with their child, Simeon knew that he was to be sratified by a sight of the infant Saviour. The old man took the child in his arms, blessed God, and said, ‘“‘ Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.” The parents Purtinc THE CHILDREN TO Deatu.—It)of Jesus wondered at the things which were was expected by Herod that the wise men|spoken concerning Him. Simeon blessed the who were seeking the child, whose name, ac- child, and told His mother that through Him cording to the prophet Isaiah, was Wonderful, | many would receive a blessing, while a woe would return to him at Jerusalem after their | would come to others. A prophetess, named visit to Bethlehem. They found the mar-| Anna, was also present, and she, too, gave yalous babe, presented their gifts, and wor-|thanks. The Jews had the happy custom of shipped at His feet. They did not return, | taking young children to the Temple. however, to Jerusalem. The history tells us that they were warned by God in a dream not to go back to Herod, and so they departed to their own country by another way. This apparent slight on the part of the wise men made Herod very angry ; it looked very much as if one had been born who was expected to be- come king of the Jews. He gave orders for all the male children in Bethlehem and in all the borders thereof to be put to death. There was great sorrow in the land, and the prophecy of Jeremiah was ful- filled that there would be weeping and mourning. The object of the horrible massucre was not accom- piiched, although many lives were sacrificeu. DEATH OF THE CHILDREN OF BETHLEHEM.—Matt. ii. 16. THE PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE.—Luke ii. 29,26. SECT ae a ad Sp a ae oo ed SC eS eee ee eA 5 PO ae Ro aT pea Erba aR eA TIS La NPR AER EE SON Rot TOON ee aPe ye ak Rete PAS, Oe ours sa. see { t | : y i : i : | Fe, es Bee a ae se ORE NOP Pe ReRe reer 20 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. JESUS AND THE MONEY CHANG- ERS—At the feast of the Passover offerings were made as a part of worship and persons who desire to make a profit by the sale of ani- inals offered in sacrifice had gone tothe Temple, taken possession of the court of the Gentiles, and con- verted it into a place for buying andselling. There werealso those whomadeabusinessofexchanging Roman money for Jewish money, aud gained something by the trans- action. Jesus was very indignant when He found that one part of the Temple was used for a market. Seeing those who were engaged in the business of selling offerings and chaneing money, He madea whip of small cords, and drove CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE.—The most im-|them out, telling them it was written that portant feast of the Jews was the Passover, aud | the house of God should bea place of prayer, the parents of Jesus were accustomed to go to but they had nade it a den of thieves. The Jerusalem every year to attend it, When/ tables were overturned, the money was pour- Jesus was twelve years old He accompanied/ed on the ground, the animals were driven His parents. After the feast was over they |away, and all unlawful traffic ceased in the started to return to their home, but he re-| courts of the Lord’s house. He had a perfect nained behind. It was not long before they | right to drive out the “thieves.’’ missed him, but supposed He was En in company with their relatives, ay 7 who were with them on the jour- ney. Failing to find Him, they be- caine very anxious, and went back to Jerusalem in search of Him. After three days they discovered Him in the Temple talking with the learned doctors, and showing such wisdom as astonished His hearers, They were amazed that one so young should have such #8 knowledge and understanding of % the Scriptures, When Hisparents asked Him why He had forsaken : them, He repiied: ‘Do you not (ORR Gaac= WSS aS Bess |\ see < know that I must be about my Sea Mee | Ri Nees Seg Ney | \ Sey, Ree Father’s business?” Thus early 3 3 ea : | Wt in life He showed the spirit of obedience to His Father’s will. CHRIST TEACHES IN THE TEMPLE.—Luke il. 46, 47. eT S s YR & \ eS _~ TN ot \ a 4 2 i 3 at } CHRIST BLESSING LITTLE CHILDREN.ee : | t i 4 i ;ty oh Boy} 1 : BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. 25 THE Box oF OrmnTMENT.—Jesus came to Bethany, a little village a short distance from Jerusalemi. There was tne residence of Martha and Mary and Lazarus, in whose house He had frequently been a anest. Here, on this occasion, a feast was made for Him in the house of Simon, the leper. He ‘reeenved a beautiful expression of affection from Mary, who, we are told else- where, had sat at His feet, heard His words, and chosen the good part which would not be taken away from her. Mary brought a box oi ointment of spikenard, very pre- cious, and anointed His head and feet.. It-appeared: to the disciples to be simply a waste of money. Jesus commended her act, saying “ SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO ComE Unto|she had come to anoint Him for His burial, Mr.”—The Jewish mothers naturally wished| which was near. She had done what she to bring their children to Jesus that they might | could, and this offering of her heart was grate- receive His blessing. This was something | fully accepted. Wherever the Gospel should thaf pleased Him, yet gave offence to His dis-| be preached this anointing by Mary would be ciples. They appeared to think He could not | spoken of for a memorial of her. This has be expected to take any notice of little chil-| come true, for whoever has heard the Gospel dren, and so they attempted to prevent fhe ieee heard of this act of Mary of Bethany. mothers from gaining His attention, ~ and were ready to rebuke those who were seeking His blessing. When Jesus saw this He was displeased. He knew that childhood, which is the forming period of the whole life, was not to be despised; and, »esides, there was too much love in His heart to exclude even a little one. The words spoken by Him on this occasion are familiar to all readers of the Bible. Having said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me,” He took them in His arms, put His loving hands upon them, and blessed them. The Jewish mothers were made very happy that day on account of the love shown by Jesus to the little ones. JESUS BLESSING LITTLE CHILDREN.—Mark x. 74. MARY ANOINTING JESUS. —Mark xiv. 9 i6—-Y, P. L. of C, 7 é 4 a | ee | 7 i + ba a a us Sees ee at ee aoe STIR NS Ne a26 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. WASHING THE DISCIPLES’ FEET. —There had been a dispute among the disciples as to who should be sreatest, and Jesus wished to show them that His true followers are humble, and to serve is their highest calling. The Jews had the custom of washing the feet of their guests: this was something commonly done by the servants of the household. The last supper being over, Jesus took < towel and basin of water, and ciples. Peter was surprised that Jesus should do such a thing, and said he would not allow it. Jesus replied that although what He did now was not understood by Peter, it would be hereafter; He also as- sured the impulsive disciple that he Curist WELCOMED witH Hosannas.-—The|could have no place in the new kingdom narrative in the Gospels states that when Jesus} unless he was submissive, and willing to have and His disciples came nigh to Jerusalem, He} this act of service performed. Peter then told sent two of them to bring Him a colt on which| Jesus to wash not only his feet, but also hig no man had ever riden. If the owner asked| hands and his head. Christ assured the dis. any questions, or made objection to their|ciples that He had done this to set them taking the colt, they were simply to say that;an example of humility, and show them how the Lord had sent them. This proved to bejthey ought to love and serve one another . sufficient, and having obtained the colt the disciples put their clothes on him and placed Jesus thereon. As He rode along He was greeted by a great multitude who spread their garments in the way, while othe1s cut down branches from the erees and strewed them in His path, seeking thus to show their respect. Crowds went before Him,and others followed. We are told that they cried, saying, “ Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord; ho- sanna in the highest!” He passed through the gate, and found the people were greatly moved on ac- count of His coming. His tri- CHRIST’S ENTRY INTO JEROSALEM.—Matt. xxi, &, 9, iy umphal entry was ended. Soon the ————————— : ad cry was heard, “Away with Him!” CHRIST WASHES HIS DISCIPLES’ FEET.—Jobn xiii. 2-,Sa car Oa YOUNG. CuRIST BEARING His Cross.- NG te ESECE Jesus Was sentenced to dea the Roman soldiers took off hel purple robe and put upon Him His Dy 5 Pa wo Z ences own clothes. He was scourged, and was made the victim of every pos- sible insult and indignity. The ex- cited crowd jeered and mocked Him, and in derision called Him the king of the Jews. When the hour ar- rived for Him to be put to death His cross was laid on Him, and He was led away to Golgotha, the place where criminals were executed. He was already weary with His suffer- inys, and His strength was not equal to bearing the heavy load; He sank down under it, exhausted and help- less. A certain man named Simon, a Cyrenian, was there, and the mok a s : | : ‘ : Wine A Tratror.—There was one disciple who| laid hold of him, put the cross upon him, ang was unlike all the others. He was fond of }made him carry it. A great company of i} money, and was willing to do anything to people, including women, followed, and ex- i obtain it. This man betrayed Christ, and for| pressed the/r sorrow at the sufferings of one thirty pieces of silver sold Him to the chief | whom they had come to love. Jesus told the | priests, and aided in His arrest and condemna- daughters of Jerusalem not to weep for him. tion. A sign was agreed upon between Judas Two thieves were in the company, who were | and the men who came to take Jesus. Thisialso sentenced to death. | sign was a kiss. When the hour | arrived, and the men were ready to make the arrest, Judas went to Jesus, exclaimed, “ Master, Master,” and kissed Him. Jesus said to him, “Judas, dost thou betray me with a kiss?” Then the men laid hands on Jesus and took Him. At this moment all the disciples left Him and fled. Judas, seeing now that his wicked act of betrayal wouid ; result in the death of Jesus, became | | alarmed, and bringing the thirty | pieces of silver threw them down | before the high priest, saying he had betrayed one who was innocent. { The history states that he then went away and hanged himself. No name is more despised than that of Judas Iscariot. CHRIST FALLS UNDER THE CROSS.—Luke xxiii. 26: apes otc Vt ia ” ne or Re ee ee he aS : a eee SSeS POO eS Re TD AE te eae ee het ner RN oe RN ee ‘ ,28 . BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. jesus BuriED.-—I* was contrary to Jewish custom to allow the bodies of those who had been cruci- fied to hang upon the cross over the Sabbath. A request was there. fore made to Pilate, the Roman governor, that the body of Jesus, with those of the malefactors. should be removed. The soldiers came to break their legs, as was customary, but Jesus being already dead, His body was not molested, and so the prophecy was fulfilled that not a bone of Him should be broken. A rich man, Joseph by name, had a new tomb in a gar- den near Golgotha, and having ob- tained the body of Jesus, he THE CRUCIFIXION.—John xix. 28-30. Curist CruciFIED.—In his last hour Jesus showed His love for His mother, and His anxiety for her future welfare. He asked her to henceforth look upon John as her son, and told John to regard her as his mother. John afterward took her to his own house, and gave hera home, After this Jesus said, “ I thirst.” A sponge filled with vinegar was offered Him.! In the accompanying engraving may be seen an inscription of four letters written upon the cross ; the meaning of these is, “ Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews ’—an inscription placed there in mockery. On each side of Him was one of the thieves who had also been condemned to death. One of them asked the Lord to remem- ber him when He came inte His kingdom. He was assured by Jesus that he would be in Paradise that day. One of the most remark- able utterances of Christ on the cross was His dying prayer for His enemies, asking His Father to for- give them, for they knew not what wrapped it in fine linen, and laid it in his sepulchre. Jesus had said that after three days He would rise again; Pilate feared the disciples would come and take away the body, saying He had risen from the dead. To prevent this he sent soldiers to guard the sepulchre. They took every precaution to make the sepulchre safe, This was a sad ending to the life of Jesus. which was employed in doing good to others. they did. The crucifixion lasted from the morning until the middle of the afternoon. emrare ae BIBLE STORIES FOR PRE Bee ee Se LEE YOUNG. 25 luE WoMEN AT THE Toms.—A full account is given of the visit tc the sepulchre on the morning of the ae day after Jesus was crucified. Mary Magdalene, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, all came to- gether It was a the (one to prepare the bodies dead for burial ointing These women hastened the tomb at the early Ba ey Ce en Ah RT RCT Nt pte actice among the them, by tG dawn of the third day, bringing with them sweet stone They knew a great J Oo been placed at the door, and as CaIme. Near they they and looked, were amazed to find that the stone removed, They ventured in. the rig SoG - Was and there on ht side saw a THE RESURRECTION.—Matt. xxviii. 2~4. RESURRECTION OF Curist.—The soldiers of Pilate who were sent to watch the tomb in } which Jesus was laid met with a sudden fright. The narrative states that on the night of the third day after the crucifixion an angel came down from heaven and rolled the stone away from the door of the sepulchre. His counte- [| gaee as like lightning, and his raiment was! young man of startling appearance, clothed in a lorg white garment. se. were frightened, but were told by the ingel not to be afraid. , Plaving a a the aa had risen, an sent them away to tell the ae pecially, that Jesus would go before them into not there, hi d was Data PeLel poets ES SRS Tae TES EPC Sy ee Ne a ~ Galilee, and they were to meet Him there. Quick ly the women departed, for they trembled and were amazed. % white as snow. The keepers who were guarding the tomb shook with fear, and became as dead men. It » was but natural that they should flee from the place. In the early morn- ing some of the women who had been the firm friends of Jesus, and were mourning His death, came with spices to the sepulchre. To their surprise they found the stone rolled away, and as they entered they saw an angel clothed in white. The gngel quieted them by bidding them Mot ‘oe fear, telling them he knew they were seeking Jesus. Then he assured them that He was risen, and asked them to come and see a aa the place where the Lord lay. He then directed them to go and tell the glaa news to the disciples ene ine Pir ET RN a tie Re ‘ See Ie RET NE Oe Se en ar50 BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. THE Ascension.—A full account is given us of the departure of Christ from the earth. According to His promise He met His dis- ciples, and told them to go and preach the Gospel to all nations. He assured them that all power was given Him in heaven an¢earth, and He would be with His people even unto the end of the world. Not only did He have interviews with the apostles, and make: Him- self known to them, but we are told that He appeared to -five hundred brethren at once. The closing scene was quite as extraordinary as any of the miraculous wonders that preceded it. After forty days had passed Jesus met His disciples again at Jerusalem. He told them Tur WALK To Emmaus.—On the day when|to tarry there until they were endowed with the resurrection took-place, it is related ihael power from on high. The hour had now two of the disciples went to Emmaus, a village| come for Him to be separated from them; He a few miles from Jerusalem. While they| was to be with them no longer in bodily shape were engaged in earnest conversation Jesus|and presence. Then He led them out to drew near and walked with them; but fies Bettany, lifted up His hands and _ blessed did not know Him. He asked them what|them, and while doing this He was parted they were conversing about, and why they! from them and carried up into heaven. appeared sosad. Cleopas inquired = if He had not heard of the things that had come to pass. He asked, “What things?” They answered, “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth.” Then they spoke of the crucifixion, and said they had trusted that Jesus was the one who would redeem Israel. They also related the visit of the women to the tomb, and the fact that they had found it empty. Jesus told them these things seemed strange because they did not under- stand what had been foretold by the prophets. When they arrived at the village He accepted their in- vitation to tarry with them, and as they were breaking bread together He vanished from their sight. Then they knew who He was. THE ASCENSION.=—Luke xxiv. 50, SS. CHRIST APPEARS TO TWO OF HIS DISCIPLES.—Luke xxiv. i5.eg et es SEE ae Pipl STORIES FOR THE YOUNG, PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA.—Acts xiv. 14, 15. tr Pau AND BARNABAS.—At Lystra there was | silver or gold, and with his own 4 cripple, a man who had never been able to | worked for his support. Then walk. Paul and Barnabas, who were on a| down and prayed ‘vith them all. The | | missionary tour, came to Lystra, and as Paul | was preaching this lame man heard him. The | attention of the apostle was drawn to the poor | « sufferer, who evidently had faith and believed | | and he pursued his journey. the words that were spoken. Paul therefore P) aig mr ane = Tv PAUL PARTING WITH THE ELDERS 7 —A Church had been planted at ig bi eee aes raul WaS anxXious to visit it, but being in a hurry to reach <2 é Jerusalem, he sent to Ephesus for be co) @) O Co = 2 — = a. 0 ty an I affectionate. He told them he knew very well that afflictions and perse- cutions awaited him, but he could not remain with them, for duty 1] 1 21 i — o = ate} WwW pa ~~ aA ) it oO = < pa aes A — A < hea fared as oO Cor ~ t SSE of his fidelity in declarin i ‘h, said he had coveted no mans OQ he kneelea arting was with sadness and tears. The elders wept as they bade him good-bye, and were espe- cially sorrowful at the thought of seeing him no more. They went with him to the ship, 4 felt convinced that there was a blessing for him and, calling to him with a loud voice, told him to stand up. The impotent man obeyed, and leaped to his feet, although he had never done such a thing before in his life. It is not strange that the people who saw what had been done were greatly amazed ; it seemed to them that more than human power had been employed in curing the lame man, and they looked upon Paul and Barnabas as gods. The priests went to the idols’ temple and brought oxen to sacrifice to them, but the apostles rent their clothes, and ran among the people, Sotbidding any sacrifice, as they were only men. They had difficulty V. preventing their worship. Pa ets ree so Sr et eg a SES ox eS AK ace: a Re: re RRS 5 ¥ = Sa 3 “ a Fane A PRN ae nN PT I ee a ater a AO Tur SeventH SraL.—The book of Reve- lation is mostly taker up with the visions of the apostle John. He saw many woncerful ‘things, the meaning of which is not in all instances very plain. The opening of the seventh seal in heaven was followed by silence for the space of half'an hour. Seven angels were seen, and to them were given seven trumpets; these are repre- BIBLE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. Tue NEw JERUSALEM.—The apos- tle John also teils us that in one part of his vision ne saw a new heaven and anewearth. Hedraws a beautiful picture of the glory of the lieavenly world. The city of the New Jerusalem, in other words the redeemed Church, was seen coming . down from heaven, adorned as a bride for her husband. A grea voice said that the tabernacle oi God was now with men, and He would dwell with them, and would | wipe away all tears from their eyes. . A glowing description is given of the peace and joy of the new Para: dise. A river of water of life flows from the throne, on the banks of which the tree of life is growing. The servants of God serve Him day and night in His temple. They behold the face of the King in His beauty, and are sealed with His name. The inscription at the top of the accompanying engraving announces that they are blessed who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb, and the one near the bottom says, “Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!” sented in the foreground of the engraving, Another angel came with a golden censer, and stood at the altar. We have in the picture a cloud of incense ascending from the censer in the angel’s hand. Then he filled the censer with the are of the altar, and cast it into the earth. This was followed by voices, and thunderings, and _ lightnings, and an earthquake. The trumpets of the seven angels then sounded, one after another, and there were terrible signs in the earth. When the seventh angel sounded it was announced that the kingdoms of this world had become the king- doms of our Lord and of his Christ. Gare 2 THE NEW JERUSALEM.—Rev. xxi. 3, 2-ae 4] + i / mm Wi es eo oe Rs Et [a eeee ae oe Meee —— a La hatin abet oe ~ ee eee | 1 : ; | | | § : | at Met Dt ~ MOS Meet DAVY wes erton epien” mAs Satin ciOFFICIAL CENSUS OF 1910 SHOWING POPULATION OF ALL THE STATES | POPULATION '|PER Cr. INCREASE. STATES AND TERRITORIES, 4940 4900 4890 | fnac 1910) 1890 na ais... 2 ee 1,828,697 | 1,513,401 || 169 | 208 ee ee 204 ,354 122,931 243 | 66.2 39.3 Arkansas. . . 1,574,449 1,311,564 1,128,211 22.0 16.3 Page F 2 kg OT YOR BS 1,485,053 1;213,398 60.1 29,4 Gomemow. .° 7 fF .3 , 799,024 539,700 413,249 48.0 30.6 Connecticut... . ag: 1,114,768 808,420 746,258 | 22.7 21.7 a ae 02,322 184,735 168,493 | 9.5 9.6 District of Columbia. . . 331,069 278,718 230,392 | 18.8 21.0 Sy Se 752,619 528,542 301.492 || 42.4 35.0 Georgia .. . Beg: 2,609,121 2,216,331 1,837,353 || 17.7 20.6 MS Ss 325,594 161,772 88,548 || 101.3 82.7 ee ee re 4,821,550 3,826,352 16.9 26.0 oy de iw tis | 2,700,876 2,516, 462 2,192, 404 7.3 14.8 ee ct toda | eee 2,231,853 1,912,297 0.3 16.7 atk es ee ee 1,690,949 1,470,495 1,428,108 | 15.0 3.0 ees ot aa | aes | fe) tee |e MISIANR e202 6 © & 8 pce ee Cle ; ) ) ’ . is Shae gee, | 742,371 694,466 "661,086 6.9 5.0 Maryland. ...... 1,294,450 1,188,044 1,042'390 9.0 14.0 Beteachuactia. on... h. peteeAl6 2'805,346 | 2,238,947 20.0 25.3 membiag, . gg. cp o> 2,810,173 2; 420,982 2,093,890 16.4 15.6 Mi 5,7 751 10 18. = Mississipp! Bae os ge Prer iid 1 eer 270 1'380°600 | 15.8 00.3 Missouri Se ese 3106.665 2,679,185 | 6.0 16.0 RE Sg gw ie 956 ey A 76,053 243,329 142,924 | 54.5 70.3 Rebrgee 2222] saipat | somge | serge a] ag Peel SS 5 ki + a, we ( : : e New Hampshire. ..... 430,572 411,588 376,530 | 4.6 9.3 ES ae ee 2,537,167 eye Lin re ee ee ss 327, 195,310 | ee eee ES Sete old 7,268,894 6,003,174 25.4 21.1 Tart Carcling , .... - - a 2,206,287 1,893,810 1. Be soe ee. 8 | 577,056 319,146 7. nic. ee ote SCTE) Oey sot 4,157,545 3,672,329 || 14.7 13.2 Men ket eas 790,391 258,657 109.7 205.6 gw hyo 672,765 413,536 317,704 62.7 30.2 Pennsylvania... 7,665,111 Gee ae | are ee Rhode Island. ... 542,610 428,556 , : ; Ute 4 e GIB A200 1,340,316 1,151,149 13.1 16.4 South oe: oA "583,888 401,570 1 348,600 | 45.4 15.2 meh eS Wad etal (BO 2,020,616 | : ee AB tot Bly SG he 54D 3'048,710 2) 235,527 27.8 36.4 a ala 373,351 76,749 910,779 || 34.9 31.3 Vermont ie tos 355,956 343,641 332,422 || 3.6 3.4 MS 2 chs et ote 3 1c 2,061,612 1,854,184 1,655,980 11.2 12.0 Washington. . PSL 886 nk eee oe an faainia: 1,221,119 958, | : : ie PO ae 2,333,860 | 2,009,042 | 1,698,330 | 2s | 222 oy. : 2,53 | : : CU eg ee da ot 145,965 92, ; Tai | 266 75,994,575 | 62,947,714 21.0 20.7 te United States . ad 763 '502 9397052. || fe 984 Bee ee 8) Sen ae 191,909 154/001 89,990 24.6 71.1 ee Sadie eee) ais oto onateas ’ Pees CO > to 115, ) ne of are ; ae Military and Mayans 7 55,608 91,219 oe ° | ° . . | ° ° @ ° United States, including ae- | pendencies named above| 93,402,151 77,256,630 63,069,756 20.9 | SON A a Sn or i oh a4 zi , 4 | | a ; 3 8 a | - 4 ane een ‘ : { | | ; OFFIGIAL“CENSUS OF. THEA IINITED Siat POPULATION ClPIESs AN De LO W Nas Containing SOOO or more Iniabitants according to the Census of 1910 VSD al of States are indicated by an asterisk (*). Aberdeen, S. Dak. Aberdeen, Wash. Abilene, Tex. . Ada, Okla. . . Adams, Mass. Adrian, Mich. Akron, Ohio Alameda, Cal. Albany, Ga. Albany, N. Y. Albert Le: a, Afra. Albion, Mich. Albion, NYS Albuquerque, N. M. Alexandria, Ind. Alexandria, La. Alexandria, Va. Alhambra, Cal. . Allentown, Pa. Alliance, Ohio . Alpena, Mich. . AIG Al. |... Aidteoas, Pa. . - Amarillo, Tex. Ambridge, Pa. Americus, Ga. : Amesbury, Mass. . Amsterdam, N. Y. Anaconda, Mont. . Anderson, Ind.. . Anderson, S. C. . Andover, Mass. . Annapolis, Md.* Ann Arbor, Mich. Anniston, Ala. Ansonia, ‘Conn. Antigo, Wis. Appleton, Wis.. | | Archbald, Pa... Ardmore, Okla. Argenta, Ark. Arkansas City, Ean. Arlington, Mass. . Asbury Park, N.J.. . Asheville, N. C. 9 “ 10,753 13,660 | 9 204 | 5,000 11,900 10,763 69,067 23,383 8,190 100,253 6,192 5,833 5,016 11,020 5,096 " 11,213 15,329 | 5,021 51,913 15,083 12,706 | 17,528 52,127 9,957 5,205 Ashland, Ky. . . Ashland, Ohio Ashland, Ore. Ashland, Pa. . Ashland et Ashley, Ashta Buia. ‘Ohio Astoria, Ore. Atchison, Kan. Athens, Ga. Athens, Ohio . Athol, Mass. Atlanta, a.” . Atlantic City, N. J. Attleboro, Mass. Auburn, Me. Auburn, N. Y. Augusta, Ga. . Augusta, Me.* Aurore, fh. |. Austin, Minn. Austin Tex.*. . Baker City, Ore. | Bakersfield, Cal. 8,063 | 8,000 31,267 10, 134 | 22,47 6 | 9,651 | 6,100 8,609 14,817 12,794 15,152 7,196 16,773 7,194 8.618 11,138 7,508 8,900 10,150 | 18,762 Baltimore, Md. . Bangor, Me. Bangor, Pa. Baraboo, Wis. . 3arberton, Ohio Sarre, Vt. Bartlesville, ‘Okla. Batavia, N. 'Y. Bath, Me. | Bath, N. Y. | Baton Rouge, La.* Battle Creek, Mich. Bay City, Mich. Bayonne, N. J. Be: ardstown, Tll. Beatrice, Neb. Beaumont, Lex. © Beaverdam, Wis. . Beaver Falls, Pa. . Bedford, Ind. . Bellaire, Ohio 8,688 6,795 5,020 6,855 11,594 5,601 18,266 9,599 "16,429 14,913 5,463 6,000 ' | 154,839 46,150 12,400 15,064 34,668 41,040 13,211 | 29,807 | 6,960 | 29,860 | 6,742 10,734 . 8,000 11,613 9,396 6,000 14,897 25,267 45.166 55,545 6,107 9,356 20,640 . aeslad | . 558,485 | 24,803 | 5,369 | 6,324 | 9,410 | 6,758 | 12,191 8,716 | 12,946 | Bellefontaine, Ohio . 8,238 Belleville, Il. 1,122 Bellevue, Ky. . 6,683 Bellevue, Ohio . 5,209 Bellevue, Pa. . ea 6,323 Bellingham, Wash. 24,298 Bellows Falls, Vt. : Beloit, Wis... . see Belvidere, Ti. «°.°.". ~ , sae Bermidji, Minn. . 5,099 Bennington, Vt. shee 3enton Harbor, Mich. 9,185 Berkeley, Cal. oes Herkley, 'Va.° . . . 4 ee Berlin, N. H. . 11,780 Berwick, Pa... ... -:; ae Berwyn, I. |": >... aa sessemer, Ala. : ... 10,804 Bethlehem, Pa. ee Beverly, Mass. . 18,650 Biddeford, Me. . 17,079 Billings, Mont. . 10,081 | Biloxi, Miss. . 5 ae Binghamton, N. Y. 48,443 Birmingham, Ala. _ 132,685 Bisbee, Ariz. od 10,000 Bismarck, N. Dak.* 5.443 Blakely, Pa... . 5,345 Bloomfield, N. J. . . 15,070 Bloomington, Ill.. . . 25,7 Bloomington, Ind. 8,838 Bidomabure, Pa.; — «Tae Bluefield, W. Va. 11,188 Blue Island, Il. 8,043 Boise, Idaho* 17,358 Boone, Iowa . . 10,347 Boston, Mass.* _ 670,585 Boulder, Colo... | 9,539 Bowling Green, Ky. . 9,173 Bowling Green, Ohio. 5,222 Boyne City, Mich, 5,218 Bozeman, Mont. 5,107 | Braddock, Pa. . 19,357 Bradford, Pa. . . 14,544 Brainerd, Minn. 8,526OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION OF CITIES AND POVA ed ye Pe gee: be ew eee Baia Aare Lah I ie Bite Gert eros TOWNS OF OVER 5,000. Brattleboro, Vt. . Brazil, Ind... . Brewer, Me. Bridgeton, N. J. Bristol, Conn. Bristol, Pa. ., Bristol. me 3 Bristol, Tenn. Bristol, Vari; ou Brockton, Mass. Brookfield, Mo. Brookhaven, Miss. Brookline, Mass... . Brownsville, Tex. Brownwood, Tex. Brunswick, Ga. Brunswick, Me. Bucyrus, Ohio Buffalo, N. Y. Burlington, lowa . nae Burlington, N. J. . Burlington, Vt. Butler, Pa. . . Butte, Mont Cadillac, Mich... .. Cairo, Ill. Calais, Mo. Calumet, Mich. | Cambridge, Md, Cambridge, Mass. Cambridge, Ohio. . . Camden, N. J. Camden, N. Y. Canal Dover, Ohio . Canandaigua N, ¥ Canon City, Colo ‘gh Canton, Ill. Canton, Ohio . Cape ae Mo. . Carbondale, Ill. Carbondale, Pa. Caribou, Me ..... . Carlisle, Pa. ... . Carnegie, Pa. . Carric , Pa. Carson City, Nev.* Carthage, Mo Catasauqua, Pa. Catskill, N. Y. Cedar Falls, I owa Cedar Rapids, lowa Centerville, Iowa. . Central Falls, R I. Centralia Il. rt, Centralia, Wash.. . Chambersburg, Pa. Champaign, Lil. Chanute, Kan. Charleroi, Pa. Charles City, Iowa . . Charleston, hh a. 4s Charleston, g. C. Charleston, W. Va.¥ Charlotte, N.C. Charlottesville, Vac? Bridgeport, Conn. . 8,000. Chattanooga, Tenn. . 44,604) Crawfordsville, Ind. 9,371 9, 340 | Cheboygan, Mich. . ._ 6,859/ Creston, Iowa . 6,924 5,667 | Chelsea, Mass. ... . 32,452| Cripple Creek, Colo. : 6,206 — aaa Seats ae Bee anes stone Minn. . 7,009 eyenne o.* rowle : P5885; 9,527 Chicago, Ill. y Be , 2,185,283 Gaimberiaria, Md? 7. 21839 9,256 | Chicago Hei hts, Ill. . 14 020 | Dallas, Tex. ; 92,104 8,450 Chickasha, Okla... 10,320 Dalton, Ga... Sas 5,324 7,148 Chicopee, Mass. . 25,401 Danbur , Conn. 20,234 6,247 | | Chicopee Falls, Mass. 8,500 | Dansvi e, mY : » 6,000 56,878 | Chillicothe, Mo. . .. 6,265| Dansver, Mass. . 7,950 5,749 | | Chillicothe, Ohio. . . 14,508 Danville, Tl. 9 (2ST 5,293 | Chippewa alls, Wis. . 8,893 Danville, Kye at 5,420 . 27,792) Chisholm, Minn. . . 7,684 Danville, Pa. 2... iO bly ‘ 10, ar pesenc? i, oe “ enee Dany. B Nas... Oe FOOD incinnati, io. 59 eroy, Pa. ..). j: 2418 edo 10, "182 Circleville, Oe: 6,744 Davenport, Iowa. . . 43,028 5,341 | aremont, 7,5 ayton , 41 6979 " g'}92| Clarksburg, W. Va. . 9,201] Dayton, ong. 20 d6Ba 423/715 Clarksville rea 8,548 | Decatur, ll. . ... . 31,140 24'324 Clearfield, . 6,851 | Defiance, Ohio... . . 7,327 . ~ 8,336 | Cleburne ig 10,364 DeKalb, D1. 95... 2. 8,102 . 20,468 | Cleveland, Ohio 560,663 | Delaware, Ohio ... 9,076 . 20,728| Cleveland, Tenn... 5,549 | Delphos, Ohio owe 5,038 39,165 | Clifton Forge, Va. 5,743 Denison, Tex. . 25.7, ',¢Ao;632 8,375 | peo Ti ey eet 5,165 Ere ee See 14.545 Clinton, Ind: . ..°. i. 6,229 | Derby, Conn wae 991 6,116 | Clinton; Iowa 25.577| Derry, N.H..... . 5,123 30,000 Clinton, Mass. 13,000 | Des Moines, Iowa* . . 86,368 i 6,407 a uet, Minn. 7,031 | Detroit, Mich. . 465,766 . 104 1839 | Co aldale, re. ss ee oe N. D: Dak. Be 11,327 Osa ate, Okla. . : ickinson ak ; 94,538 Oates ille, Pa. 11,084 | Dickson Pa. pie 9,331 5,000 | Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. 7,291, Dixon, Ill. . 1... . 7,216 6,621 | Po ge Kan. ee Tete a oe se 7,217 | Cohoes, : othan A. cake ee : 5,162 | Coldwater, Mich. . 6,945 Douglas, Ariz. . .. .9 O00 ; 10, 453 | Collinsville, TH 7,478| Dover, Del.* . .. . . 3,720 50,217 | Colorado $8 rings, Colo. 29,078| Dover, N. H. . .. . . 18,247 8,475 | Gotuinbia, Mo. 9,662 | Dover, N. J. . i> TAGS 5,41 2 | Geleambia, Pas: ee 11,454 eee, Mich... . eye 17'040 | olumbia ape : ublin, Ps ue. j 5,377 Columbia, Tonnes), a uses aah ihe pe? mie 10,303 | Columbus, Ga... . . : ubu oe Owe: 251 By 10,009 Columbus, Inds = *«.<2 8,813| Duluth, Minn. .. . . 78,466 6,117 | Columbus, Miss. ae Dunkirk, A, . : Lancaster, Ohio Lancaster, Pa. . Lansford, Pa. . Lansing, Mich.* Laporte, Ind. Laramie, Wyo. . ak Laredo, Tex. . Larksville, Pa. Ls, ; La Salle, Ill. Las Vegas, N.M... . Latrobe, Pa. Laurel, Miss. . Laurium, Wich’). Lawrence, Kan. Lawrence, Mass. . . . Lawton, Okla. Lead, 8. Dak... . Leadville, Colo. Leavenworth, Kan. Lebanon, Ind. . Dak. 6,100 . 18,894 8,077 11,850 . 10,412 , 267,779 5,38 8,502 10,447 ~ . 55,482 - 34,670 7,123 _ 82,073 5,598 - 11,449 5,032 15,181 13,093 47,227 8,321 31,229 "10,525 8,237 14,855 9,288 11,537 8,600 8,777 8,465 8,537 12,374 85,892 7,788 8,392 7,508 " 19°363 | 5,474 Lebanon, N.H.. . Lebanon, Pa... .. Lehighton, Pa.. . Leominster, Mass. Lestershire, N. Y. Lexington, Ky.. . Lexington, Va. maneoln, Dl. 6. 8 Paneon, Ind. 24 Litchfield, fll.. ...... Little Falls, Minn. . . Little Falls, N. Y. . Little Rock, Ark.*.. Livingston, Mont. Lockport, N. Y. Logan, Utah .. 48 Logansport, Ind... . Longbeach, Cal. ... Long Branch, N. J. Longview, Tex. Lorain, Ohio . Los Angeles, ea 4 Louisville, Ky. .. . Lowell, Mass. Ludington, Mich. . . Luzerne, Pa. . . Lynchburg, Va. . . . Lynn, Mass. MEGA lester. Okla? : McComb, Miss... . McKeesport, Pa. . Macomb, Ill. . . Macon, Ga... Madison, Ind. . Madison, Wis.*. . . Madisonville, Ohio . Malden, Mass. Malone, N.Y. ...- - Mamaroneck, N. Y. Manchester, N. H. . . Manchester, Va. . . - Manhattan, Kan.. . Manistee, Mich. Manitowoc, Wis... . Mankato, Minn. Mansfield, Ohio Marblehead, Mass. . . Marietta, Ohio... Marinette, Wis. Marion, Dl... . Marion, Ind. .. . Marion, Ohio. . Marlboro, Mass. . Marquette, Mich. . | Mars all, Tex. . . Lewiston, Idaho . f 1| Lewiston, Me. : Lewistown, Pa... .°. Lexington, Mo.. . x Pies, Ohio oo Lincoln, Neb.* ...-. . Lock Haven, Pa.. . McKees Rocks, Pa. . Whiiisen, TIL . 224s Mahanoy City, Pa. . . Marietta, Ga.....- - 5,718 - 19/240 Da, Wales @ UL maaan eT ane (Es Se OP a ee, TOWNS OF OVER 5,000. Marshalltown, Iowa . 18,374 Marshfield, Wis. . . . 5,783 5,316 | Martinsburg, W. Va. . 10,698 14,910 | Martins Ferry, Ohio . 9,133 5,000 | Marysville, Cal. . . . 5,430 6,043 | Mason City, lowa . . 11,230 26,247 | Massillon, Ohio. . . 13,879 8,166| Matteawan, N.Y. . . 6,727 35,099 | Mattoon, ll... .. . 11,456 5,242 | Mayfield, Fee | Behe sets 5,000| Maynard, Mass. . .. 65,910 30,508 | Maysville, Ky. .... 6,141 10,892| Maywood, Ill. ... . 8,033 43,973 | Meadville, Pa. 12,780 5,906 | Mechanicsville, N. Y. 6,634 5,971| Medford, Mass.. . . . 23,150 6,078| Medford, Ore. .. .. 8,840 12,273| Medina, N.Y. . . . . _5,688 45,941 | Melrose, Mass. .. . . 15,715 5,359 | Memphis, Tenn. . . . 131,105 7,772,| Menasha, Wis... . . 6,081 17,970 | Menominee, Mich. . . 10,507 7,522 | Menomonie, Wis. . . 5,036 19,050 | Meriden, Conn. .. . 27,265 17,809 | Meridian, Miss. . ... 23,285 13,298 | Merrill, Wis... ..- . 8,689 5,155| Methuen, Mass. . . . 9,110 28,883 | Mexico, Mo. .... . 5,939 319,198 | Miami, Fla. ..... 5,471 993,928 | Michigan City, Ind. . 19,027 106,294 | Middleboro, Mass. . . 5,700 9,132 | Middlesboro, Ky. . . 7,305 5,426 | Middletown, Conn.. . 11,851 29,494 | Middletown, N. ¥Y.. . 15,313 89,336 | Middletown, Ohio . . 138,152 12,954 | Middletown, Pa. . . . 5,374 6,237 | Milford, Mass. . . . . 12,910 42,694| Millvale, Pa. .... - 7,861 14,702 | Millville, N.J.....- 12,451 5,774 | Milton, Mass... ~. . 7,210 40,665 | Milton,Pa........ 7,460 5,046 | Milwaukee, Wis.. . . 373,857 6,934| Minersville, Pa. .. . is 25,531 | Minneapolis, Minn. . 301,408 5,193 | Minot, N. Dak... . - 6,188 15,936 | Mishawaka, Ind=:i3. 11,886 44,404| Missoula, Mont. . . . 12,869 6,467 | Mitchell, S. Dak.. . . 6,515 5,699 | Moberly, Mo.. .. - - 10,923 70,063 | Mobile, Ala. ....- - 51,521 12,200| Moline, Ill.. ...- 24,199 5,722| Monessen, Pa. .. . - 11,775 12,381| Monmouth, Ill... . . 9,128 13,027 Monongahela, Pa. . . 7,598 10,365| Monroe, La. ....-.- 10,209 20,768 | Monroe, Mich. . . . - 6,893 7,010 | Montclair, Neds ¢ , 2: (2,be8 5,949 | Montgomery, Ala.* a. 38,136 12,923 | Montpelier, Vt... . 7,856 14,610| Morenci, Ariz... - - 7,000 7,093 | Morgan City, La... . 5,477 19,359 | Morgantown, W.Va. 9,150 18,232| Morristown, N.J. . 12,507 14,579 | Moundsville, W.Va. 7 sos 11,503 | Mt. Carmel, THe .cowoder ieee 11,452 ' Mt. Carmel, Pa. . . . 17,582 5 ae A a y meet . | ie aes | | | | a | ; 4 ce RA Af t | Uxb Nee & Rf | 4 ee a BI SE ea Ne ee es, 5 Re Ae-foe ORONO OI ee Tkee ee ov Lee aes ' ; : | : : t f ; ; Alc Lal AO Min 2 PSI we 0 ayho errien” ~ ke Pe ALN ba alta 2 OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION OF CITIES AND TOWNS OF OVER 5,000. Mt. Clemens, Mich. Mt. Pleasant, Pa.. . Mt. Vernon, Ill. Mt. Vernon, Ind. Mt. Vernon, N. y. Mt. Vernon, Ohio Muncie, Ind. . . Munhall, Pa. oes: Murphysboro, Ti: Muscatine, Iowa. . Muskegon, Mich. Muskogee, Okla. Nanticoke, Pa. OS Napa, Cals... s Nashua, N. Hie eat Nashville, Tenn.* Natchez, Miss. Natick, Mass. ‘ Natick, ee Naugatuck, Conn. . Nebraska City, Neb. Neenah, Wis: .'.. << Negaunee, Mich. | : Nelsonville, Ohio. . . Nevada, Mo. «ii... New See indy. *. . . 7,230,881 1,931,398 | | 1880 VE Rr ek in 9,638,453 2,393,572 | | 1890 1830 i Stele 6% 12,866,020 8,297,567 | 1900 140 a Sse gt 17,069,453 4,203,438. | | 1910 T8b0% sk ae. 23,191,876 6,122,428 | $1,448,821 88,558,371 50,155,788 62,947,714 75,994 575 9) 972,266 8 5,2: 25] 445 7.115.050 11,597,412 12,791,981 13,046,861 15,977,691z x A ae (a E OFFICIAL CENSUS POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 anp 1890 ALABAMA ARIZONA SOUNTY 1910 1900 1890 counTY 1910 1900 1890 Autanga .<0s<<- 20,038 To Lo 13,330 91¢ 9 Baldwin \...... 18178 13,194 8,941 Re et ee ee eS : COGHISES 0+ cee cicie 34,591 9,251 6,93 Baenour «.«icts 32,120 35,152 34,898 Coconino ; 9130 eRe. ee 3ibb eee €e 6668 © 22.1921 18. 498 13,824 Gi : ae 16.780 4.973 2? 021 EERE. 3+ +008 pee i Cel Sine Cram TTS ea'san | adidas -LB680 BOMORE «+++ ¥9'« purser Bilge.» SisnGe Maricopa ...... 34,488 20,457 10,986 Butler .-.-+ pane 29089. 20,00)... Zee Mohave ........ $778 8.406 .. yea COROT +009 <4 Beale? Bere. . Saree Navajo: ...dcend #1401 eS BOO cs erate CEMOHETS. «20+. Ay EI ag ge Be Spey line pa 22,818) 814.699. Sha 67s Cherokee 20,226 2 "096 20,459 Pi 1 9.045 7.779 4251 Chilton ...++++. 23,187 16,522 14,549 Saath. (Crue, tee t Cada HEAD. Sek Choctaw exesnecoe 18,483 18, 136 Li p26 Y avapai = eee 15.996 13,799 8.685 Clarke ..++++++. BONS 6: nn SET O0. .. 22, GOe Wwe, kee TIS... 4145... 2ee Clay ..seeeeees oer rs eae gee San Carlos Indian Res. 23.065 + 13 eee. oa greets ere 30972 ~—-12'170 The. Territory.204,354 122,931 59,620 Colbert oy tae 24,802 22.341 20,189 (a) In Gila, Graham, and Navajo counties, Conecit <6.ic.+ 21,433 17,514 14,594 but the population in each county was not UGGEE * cdeerewds 16,634 16,144 15,906 separately returned in 1900. ‘ovingt i345 (83,124 15,346 7,536 , Graaw ot 23,313 19668 15,425 ARKANSAS SE ar Zoe 17,849 13,439 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 oe boi a7e). 21,189 . 17,226 Dallas .....+++- 53,401 4,657 49,350 Arkansas ....-- 46.103>. . 12:073. 115422 Dekalb ...+++-- 28,261 23,55! 21,106 Rapley cece 25.268 19,734 18,295 Elmore, .....++- 28,245 26,099 21,732 Baxter Ji, cs bess 10,389 9,298 8527 Escambia .....+- 18,889 11,320 8,666 Jenton ....... 33,389 S461. BET Etowah .......- 39,109 27,361 21,926 Minne ee 14.318 16,396 15,816 Fayette ......-- 16,248 14,132 12,823 Sietleg. co aec: « 14,518, 9,651 7,972 Peanklin .cecce 19,369 16,511 10,681 |. Cainoun v.ccess: 9,894 8,53 7,267 Ceitehcccedee: 26,230 19,096 10,690 Catrall, gsc cess 16,829 18,848 17,288 Greene ...0++- 22,717 24,182 22,007 Chicee: vei cccet 21'987 14,528 11,419 Hale .ccesseess 27,883 31,011 27,501 Clark &..2stase0s 23,686 21,289 20,997 Henry .seeeeeee 20,943 36,147 24,847 Clay eisucteets 23,690 15,886 12,200 Houstom oe esene 32,414 Digits ae + ° . Cleburne ae ea 11,903 9,628 7,884 eae eer 32,918 30,508 28,026 Cleveland .yhs.: 13,481 11,620 11,362 Jefferson ......226,476 ne wi Columbia ...+-. 23,820 on aes oy 20,936 26559 23,739 Caiiad’ Se o762T 19,505 «12,025 Lawrence ...++- 21,984 20,124 20,725 Crawford ...... 23,942 21,270 21,714 TM wicseaes ae 32,887 oe aes Crittenden oa: aes oes ees “UMEStONE cee 26,88( 22, 41,20 SLOSS | seen ese ne 504 Jo ,0090 des cll) 81,804 35,651 31.530 Wie eee 12,621 11518 9.296 ; se siceseurie Lso oO 0,324 ee ea, «48102 B8,119 ee ee 21960 19,451 17,352 Marengo ....-- 39,923 38,315 33,095 Faulkner ...ee: 23,708 20,780 18,342 Marion ..csescs 17,495 14,494 11,347 Franklin ....... 20,638 17,395 19,9 Marshall ....... 28,553 23,289 eee Fulton eee 12,193 ser 4 1008 i 854 62,7 ol1,o¢ Garlan See eet al 8,773 5,32 a (ets 87155 23,666 18,990 Grant Ns ede fo? 9,425 7,671 7,786 Trcisomers 4.;.82,118 72,047 56,172 Greets)... 000 23852 16.979 12,908 Montgomery .-- 04,1 eh 34089 cape ioe 23°796 Woreat «ives < 738,782 28,82 24, Hempstead ..... 28,2 a - ee 311222 31,783 29,332 Hot Spring .... 15,022 12,748 11,603 Pickens ees sii 26060 24,402 22,470 Howatd .2..... £6,598 14,076 eee Pike ae 30,815 29,172 oes Inde wadence <<: au paper T0538 a eS ‘ 6 17,21° I et SAA ) 906 eee settee ealoer o77083 247093 hae oe 93501 18,383 15,179 ee Glee... 20,715 19,425 17,353 Jefferson .....+- 52.734 40,972 40,881 Shelby : 26,949 23,684 20 at Johneon se ee 19,698 17,448 p te et ce 82,710 29,5 uafayette ...... 13,7 594 and. t 1%"! a7 924 35173 29,346 Lawrence *.... ,. 20,001 16,491 12.088 ie 2: 31,034 29,675 25,469 Tees osc ee oseee fak0o: eee cree Fett 47°5! 36.147 30,352 Lincoln ....+.- , 15,118. 13,389 10,255 Tuscaloosa ...-- 47,559 Seno 16.078 Tittle’ River 13.597 13,73 8,904 Walker eoose0see BOS 11.134 7935 Logan fo ee 26,350 20,563 20 773 Washington .-.- 33°330 35.631 80,816 Lonoke ..+sse- 27,983 22,544 19,268 Wilcox ..+.+++: Be Oe. of ke 552 Tad 16,056 19,864 17,402 9,554 6,552 Madison ...-ce. Winston ..-.--. Lee 7 MaGieat +-*-0/* sol008 Wasi ekoedd The State 2,138,093 1,828,697 1, 513,01 IOFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 Aanp 1890 ARKANSAS Continued CALIFORNIA Continued < ee Gs ae COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Miller. 2s2¢ ¢2.¢219,505 17,558 14,714 San Luis Obispo 19,383 16,637 16,072 Mississippi ..... 30,468 16,384 11,635 San Mateo .;.4. 26,585 12,094 10,087 Monroe: 2. ..24<, 9,907 16,816 15,336 Santa: Barbara . 24.1 oo 18,934 15.40 Montgomery ... 12,455 9,444 7,923 Santa Clara .... 83,539 60,216 48,005 Nevada <3... 4. 1 9°344 16,609 14,832 Santa. Cruz ..c.° 20,240 21 De 19.270 Newton! ..... si 10,612 12558 9,950 DILLGSEA seawater 18,920 17,318 12,133 Quachitae « j Shatner. 11.688 12,199 10,418 COLORADO : Stage fo i.secs K AT } wae. ee 32.721 32,762 32,664 Bibb ssseeeeees 56,646 50,473 42,370 4 | | ‘ oe Bday 4 6. Brooks. ..:; ccs, 29,802. - 18.606. 13:07 vi Newcastle ...-.- 123,188 109,697 97,154 Bryay 6. oa - 6,702 6,122 5,520 Sussex +++++++++ 46,413 42,276 38,641 Hallock, fase 26,464 21,377 13,712 : The State: «<,202,822 184,785 168,493 Darker... suk: 27.268 30,165 28.501 ‘ Pintle’. 5 ook 13,624 12,805 10,565 ce DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA Cathoun 5. cuss 11,33 9,274 8,438 + 2 Gamden. ..35-:: 7,690 7,669 6,178 wa 1939 sd aeee Campbell 20... 10874 9,518 9,115 iE - 7 ren 9 > STTOM -. cece ee 30,855 26,576 ou oy 331,069 278,718 230,392 Gatooae . snes 7,184 5,823 5,431 x > Charlton: s2.¢.. 4,722 3,592 3,335 . ee 16,423 ce oe Wrankia 6. nsve'e 5,201 4,890 3,308 Daee- #a. sate 4,139 4,578 5,707 ie 7 22198 15,294 11,894 Dawson .--..ace 4,686 5,442 5,612 ; Hamilton ...... 11,825 11,881 8,507 Deedes unos 29045 29,454 19,949 ae Hernando ...... 4,997 3,638 2,476 Webalb. .. se: 27,981 21,112 “WiGisd # Hillsboro ...... 78.374 36,013 14,941 Nodke: ... one 20,127 18,975 11,452 De TIMOR. as bxte a8 11,557 7,762 4,336 Doo. 4. aoe 20,554 26,567 18,146 of moe «5 sg ae0eel 23,377 17,544 Dougherty ....- 16,035 13,679 12,206 AS efferson .....-- 17.210 16,195 15,757 DQUSIAS «case 8,953 8,745 7,794 ee a. ae haa 6,710 4,987 3,686 Rafiye;. cess 18,122 14,828 9,792 . ae = ee 9,509 7,467 8,03 Ecole si. anee 3,309 3,209 3,079 | eee 6294 3/071 1,414 Effingham ...... 9,971 8,334 5,599 e ae ty. .y ven 3% 19427 19,887 17,752 Biheees Ce 241125 19,729 15,376 . 1 AE Se 10,361 8,603 6,586 Emanuel ......- 25,140 21,279 14,703 4 es p65 60 2 2.956 1,452 Rann 12,574 11,214 8,724 ; Sadgen «6.0 ¢ 16.919 15,446 14,316 Fayette ..---... 10,966 10,114 8728 e [edatee 4: 9,550 4,663 2,895 Biggie et isae ee 96,788 . 38,113 2eage oe Reeree + 56d 69 Forsyth ....--. 11,940 11,550 11,155 ee Marion see 20,020 24,403 20,7 orsytl 1 TEAHEOE iaceces- 21,563 18,006 18,786 Franklin ....::: 17,894 17,700 14,670 |ee ene a eS * La cee a H | : | | A ee - OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION GEORGIA Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Bulton << ok. 177, fos 117,363 84,655 Gilmer <2 .2¢i03s 9,237 10,198 9,074 Glascock .£2:.2. 4,669 4,516 3,720 Glyiiia | 4 os visreninie 15,720 14°337 13,420 Gordon ../.:¢ . 25861 14,119 12,758 Grady: <. 8:20.55 iby Uy ae ee couse Greene © 66.4. 18,512 16,542 17,05 Gwinnett <2.0.8, 28,824 25,585 19,899 Habersham ...+ << 10.43 13,604 1b Ts Hall Ve <<< Sohn We 25,730 2OLT DZ 18,047 Hancock = ics 19,189 aScctd 17,149 Haralson. #26225 13,514 11,922 11-316 Marns ..ccvt..< 17,888 18,009 16,797 IAG ce ve dees 16,216 14,492 10,887 MEAT «a8 esa vs 11,189 ol 9,557 Henry 19,927 18,602 16,220 ErOuUston 26. sts 23,609 22,641 21,618 Erwin oi). «ss cs 10,461 13,645 6,316 Jackson .¢-..., 30,169 24,039 19,1%6 ASPCE scsek cess 16,552 15,033 13,879 Jet Davis. « S060. oh cic) Bae es enrerson 4... > - 2A Oto 18,212 17,210 COMINGS Ga cas 08 Ll O20. ik sews 7 ul peee Jonson 4400. 12,897 11,409 6,129 pone os oles, Bic 13,103 13,358 12,709 aurens 3D,5D01L 25,908 13,741 BE Tai sas een 68 11.67 10,344 9,074 Paipenty <'s.< <0... 12,924 13,093 12,887 Jonicoin 2%.47. 8,714 7,156 6.146 TPOwnaes 23,129 22,209 19,568 : GAIT -c4 as wba s 14,420 16,192 14,534 Pocahontas ..... 14,808 15,339 9.553 { Monta 7, 3c 66d 10,998 13,601 12,292 Pele: oss. sede 110,438 82,624 65,410 Allamakee ..... 17,328 18,711 17,907 Pottawattamie .. 55,832 54,336 47,430 Appanoose ..... 28,701 25,927 18,961 Poweshiek ..... 19,589 19,414 18,394 4 POTOUIDOL. « 24,724 23'096 23°96 1 eed eee 2308 2722 3535 Edwards ....... 7,033 3,682 3,600 Wabaunsee ...... 12,02 12,813 11,720 | ean 10.te8 .¢ 11,448 35316 Walact .gccn.: 2,759 4178 2,468 Se ee 12,170 8,626 7,942 Washington .... 20,229 21,963 22,394 Ellsworth Sy aie 10,444 9,626 9,272 Wichita ..5:4..<. 2,006 1,197 1,827 Finney Ss 6,908 3,469 3,350 Wilson cae: 19,810 15,671 | 15.286 RE he ane ca ores 11,393 5,497 5,308 Woodson .<-.. . 9,450 £02022 9,021 Prat .4 ove 20,884 21,354 20,279 Wyandotte ..... 100,068 13,227 54,407 ‘ y 9 2 7 P ¢ na : pee etre +" oN ee sy bier 9 The State ...1,690,949 1,470,495 1,427,096 Graham : : 8700 5 73 5029 (a) Garfield county (population 881 in Gee ee: 1.087 422 1.380 1890) annexed to Finney county in 1893. Pe es. 3121 1,264 2,415 | og ae ae OHEOEIEY wawcs -'s 1,335 493 1,264 KENTUCKY. Greenwood ..... 16,060 16,196 16,309 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 PIBIOUIEON ince wk 3,360 1,426 2,027 Beteee cs 14.748 . 10,810 18,266 Adair ia nan 16508 14,888 943.721 Parvey . sac oss 19'200 ~=+17.591 17,601 Bilea, 32 eae 14,882 14.657 13,692 PIHBRCL 6 sae ee os 993 457 1,077 Atidétsoti “+..¢.¢ 10,146 10,051 10,610 moageman ...<+.- 2,930 2,032 2,395 Ballard .226 a... 12,690 TO 7GE: 8,390 TAPREOR ccacc ues LOGO. Ri ghe 14,626 Barren: <2 siege 20,293 Zo te 21,490 ye Jefferson ....... 15,826 17,533 16,620 Bath, =. cise 12988 j4,734 12848 eee gto a 18,148 19,420 19,349 felts foo. ee o8447 15.701 . 10,212 RC ORGHOR: soecsss 18,288 18,104 17,385 Roche i... 9,420 11,170 12,246 4), < alates MEATY 6s oe ce ure 3,206 LT LOG 1,571 SQUIrbOnN © <4 6s 17,462 18,069 16,976 ea ee Bigenan ..0 50>. 13,386 10,663 11,823 SOs = cn is heieted 23,444 18,834 14,033 | Ne goes 6,174 2,365 2,873 Hayle: «scan aes 14,668 19:817 . 12,948 a Sete fa, keen 31,423 27,3887 27,586 Bracken ....... 10,308 -12:137 12,369 a ee... 2,603 1,563 2,060 Breathitt ....... #7540 -< 14,222 8,705 ae Leavenworth 141.207 40,940 38,485 Breckinridge ... 21,034 20,534 18,976 ee Pest fol... 10,142 9,886 9,709 Buith. So ay ace 9,487 9,602 8,291 a es hae. 14796 16,689. 27,215 Mrtler - a. sew hes 15,805 15,896 13,956 2 SS Soe 240 11962 3,384 Caldwell les 14,063 14,510 13,186 | BN oF roca > 24,927 25,074 23,196 Calloway... sae ani ,86 ,633 OGD ; hers. of 21°521 21,421 21,614 Campbell’ ..s5 : 59,369 54,223 44,208 : Marion .......- 22'415 20,676 20,539 Cuiilele: =. acuta 9,048 10,195 7,612 Marehall = cee c's 23,880 24,355 23,912 Gasroll §... aacs 8,110 9,825 9,266 Mee he tojse6 en et fete 43,180 .. 32,58) OURS OF. aos 47,715 42.071 35,698 eee 8.859 5,084 5,204 Fleming ....-+- 16,066 17,074 16,078 fae ee: TBC 442 661 Agee coda , 18,628. 15,552 11,256 Phill 14,150 14,442 13.6 y 3 ee eet 17522 18,470 17,722 Franklin ..... -y- 2L485 -: 20,852 ° 2267 oe’ aap = 08h BLS Fulton ..... ee 14114 . 11546 ~ 10,005 eeatiné fis. 9880” (5241 6,756 Gilat «5.0.0 4007 ~~ Biles eeottOFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 AND 1890 ee eee KENTUCKY Continued. KENTUCKY Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Gatrand: 25. ose. 11,894 12,042 11138 Washington .... 13,940 14,182 13,622 Grant® 25... eee TO.58. 15,209 2.011 Vayne ceeeatees 17,518 14,892 12,852 ! Graves. o..c% tee 33,539 33,204 28,534 Webster ..;::6% 20,974 20,097 17,196 GraySOn- < is 666s 19,958 19,878 18,688 Whitley ....¢.:5% 32,982 25,015 17,590 GYrEen: oe... eee 11 Sia 120205 11,463 Weoalke: ..5 «css oie 9,864 8,764 er 180 Gieenue oie 18,475 15,432 11,911 Woodtord .%.. 12.571 13,134 2,380 WanGOCK: <.3°k.. 8,512 8,914 9,214 . . 2992909005 9° 747 Hardin Soa 25’696 29937 217304 The State ...2,289,905 2,147,174 com ae BTA ss. ie se 10,566 9,838 G.Lot ITC r, Wlantison .60 2... 16,873 18,570 16,914 aia ISIANA ae BY a at 18.4173 18,390 16,439 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 { blendérson .:;; ; 29,352 32,907 29,536 z : ge Rleny aac. 13.716 14.620 14.164 Acadia peta cane 31,8 tT 23,483 13,231 i Hickman ..5..5. L150 11,745 11,637 Ascension ...... 23,55 / 24,142 19,545 ; Rroplans . ..0 0.8% 34.291 80.995 23.505 Assumption .:,. 24,128 21,620 19,629 Pareeon 2 445. k. 10,734 10,561 8,261 Avoyelles ...... 34,102 29,701 25,112 | femerson 23... .. 262,920 232,549 188,598 Bienville sere ees 21,776 17,588 14,108 Jessamine ...... 12,613 11,925 11,248 Bossier ........ 21,738 24,153 20,330 GhHSGN: ..58 503 17,482 13,730 11,027 Caddo .....+4.. 58,200 44,499 31,555 : Centon. cite: 70.355 63.591 54.161 Calcasieu See ta 62,767 30,428 20,176 { Renter ay oto 6 10,791 8,704 5,438 Caldwell ........ 8,593 6,917 5,814 | Kigot (25. sss 22,116 17372 13,762 Cameron ....... 4,288 3,952 2,828 ‘ Tare. .¢.ecisk. 10,701 10,764 9.433 Catahoula ...... 10,415 16,351 12,002 1 es ee a 19,872 17,592 13,747 Claiborne ....,. 25,050 23,029 23,312 . bawretice < 23,759 24 662 on’ a5 1 inpiam .2..¢:¢5 53,519 39818 37666 ge OT aggre 16,386 17 662 15,191 Lomita 12st ents 33,550 34,329 32,801 Dorchester ...-- 28,669 27.962 94243 TosCO seeeeeeees 9,753 10,246 14.224 Frederick Poca as 52,673 51.920 49512 TOM. son natien as 15,164 8,990 4,432 Cette sks ois 20105 17701 14213 Isabella = ccs 23,029 22,784 18°784 ee tne. or966 ©«28'269. «28,993 Jackson ....+:- 53426 48,222 45,031 Howard .......- 16106 16715 16,269 Kalamazoo ..... 60.427 44310 39.273 Ree... st t+0% 16,957 18,786 17.471 Kalkaska ..-+-, 8,097 7,133 5, Montgomery ..- 32,089 30.451 27,185 Kent ...-+-+++! 59,145 129,714 109,922 Prince Georges ..36,147 29,808 26080 Keweenaw «-»-- 7,156 3,217 2,89 Queen Annes .. 16,839 18,364 18,461 [ales ...dsveecn 3,939 4,957 6.505 St. Marys ..--- 17,030 17,182 5.819 Papeer + -sa¢sts 26,033 27,641 29,213 Somerset ..-<>» 26,455 25.923 94155 Leelanau «sv... 10,608 10,556 79 Potnot- s«.. sine o 4 19,620 20.342 19°736 Lenawee ....--- 47,907 48,406 48,448 Washington eooe 48.47) 1513 2 99'782 Livingston ....-.- LESS 19,664 20,858 Wicomico ...-.- 26815 22,852 19,930 ee eee 200s 2,983 2,455 Worcester ....:;-; 21,841 20,865 19,747 Se ae s aveee 7,708 7,850 2 ; Macomb ...---> 32,606 oo e The State ...1,294,450 1,188,0 14 1,042,390 Manistee “tanto 38 688 Br: Bae | Be Ee Marquette ...-- 46,739 41,23 MASSACHUSETTS Maser -., ots 21,83 18885 1.386 engi 1910 1900 1390 Mecosta adiet 19'466 20,693 + ~=—«:19,697 Menominee 2... 25,648 27,046 33,639 Barnstable ..... 27.542 27.826 29.172 Midland ¢.,.*s- 14,005 14,439 10,657 3erkshire ...--- 105,259 95.667 81.108 Missaukee ....-- 10,606 9,308 5,048 Meisel .. <2. -<.818,078, 252,029 186,260 Monroe ..--+: 32,917 32,754 32,337 Tyee 3. Shs as 4.504 4.561 4 369 Montcalm ...«..% 32,069 32,754 32,637 cy, errr 436.477 357,030 299,995 Montmorency .. 3,755 ' 3,234 1,487 Franklin ....s:- 43,600 41.209 22'610 Muskegon ..--- 40,577 37,036 40,013 Hampden ......231,369 175,603 35,713 Newaygo +++: 19,220.24 17,673. 207088 Hampshire ...-- 63,327 58,820 51.859 Oakland ...---- 49,576 44,792 41,245 be Middlesex ...-- 669,915 565,695 431,167 Oceana ~--s<2%* 18,379 16,644 15,698 te Nantucket ..... 2,962 3,006 3,268 Ogemaw = <:ax'/> 8,907 7,765 5,583 . Norfolk ....... 187.506 151,539 118,950 Ontonagon ..--- 8,650 6,197 3,756 ee Plymouth .....- 144337 113,985 92,700 Osceola .-+-+++: 17,889 17,859 14,630 a Sadik ....20 731.388 611,417 484,780 Oscoda -.-++ ++: ZOOPRS.. L468 son TORS as Worcester .----399,657 346,958 280,787 Orne ray pL G15: ene & The State..3,366,416 2,805,346 2,238,943 Presauie Tas a0 11.249 Beas So aae 3 ree oscommon ..-- 22d 1,787 2,033 Bre MICHIGAN Gaigaw. catia: 99290 «81,222. 82,273 4 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 St. Clair ...+-+- 52341 55,228. 52,105 om St. Joseph ..--- 25499 23,889 25,356 4 eds, 5 ssc. 5,703 5,691 5,409 Bangiac. .. steve 33'930 35,055 32,589 ee Alger .+--+++++: 7 615 5,868 1.238 Schoolcraft .«--:> 8,681 ~ 7,889 5,818 ay ae Allegan .--+-:> 39,819 38,812 38,961 Shiawassee ->-> 33,246 33,866 30,952 Ce Alpena «-+++++* 19,965 8,254 15,581 Tuscola «+++: 34,913 35,890 32,508 d : 17ee eee 1 : : f | i OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION MICHIGAN. Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Van Jburen-.4.. 33,180 33,274 30,541 Washtenaw .... 44,714 47,761 42,210 Wayne 9. .dimidon 531,590 348,793 257,114 Wextord 2.4.3 20,769 16,845 LTS The State..2,810,173 2,420,982 a2,093,889 (a) Includes population (860) of Manitou annexed to Charlevoix and Leelanau in 1896, and (135) of Isle Royal annexed to Keweenaw in 1897. (b) Organized from parts of Iron, Mar- quette and Menominee in 1891. MINNESOTA COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 PAEKING Ske wc = LOST 6,743 2,462 ANOKA. c.auee. ss 12.498 14,5818 9,884 Becker (a) ...:-2: 18,840 14,375 9,401 Beltrami: .:2.... 19,337 11,030 312 BENtON | ..k os, bs 1161p 9,912 6,284 Bigstone 42.5... 9,367 8,731 5,722 Bite Barthe;.... 29:337 32,263 29,210 BRrogtl® 2.42 ..5: 20,13 19,787 15,817 Carita. Gea 7,559 10,017 5.272 Carver. . oi. 17,455 17,544 16,532 NE Ace 11,620 etl ] 227 Chippewa <2. 3% 13,458 12,499 8,555 MSNISASO° 26s i, 13,000 13,248 10,359 A oss ws 19,640 17,942 Li OL Slearwater (a). G.STO. - ¥e8. 6. ae COOK ceo. Gis ee 1,3o0 810 98 Cottonwood .... 12,651 12,069 T4132 Crow Wing ... 16,861 14,250 8,852 Dakota 3.6 she ZO LOL 24.7338 20,240 Dodge <..c6 cn. 12-094 13,340 10,864 Poislas -) 2... s 17,669 17,964 14,606 Waribpault %2..%. 19,949 22,055 16,708 POUMNOTE .i 15,599 13,501 9,532 Whuklas 225.64 16,664 16,802 14111 memconall ieee: Boom + 27014. 26,088 Dunklin ....... 30,328 21,706 15,085 MONTOCG .a0ees. 35,178 31,216 30,730 Bianiklin ices 2: 29,830 30,581 28,056 Montgomery ... 17,706 16,536 14,459 Gasconade © .4..: 12'847 12,298 11,706 Beshobe. <->» 17,980 12,726 11,146 Genaty ...chc.sc 16.820 > 20,804. %.49,018 Rewhon . -bee> + 23,085 19,708 16,625 SPeRHE” « /Roiaa! 63,831 52,713 48,616 INOMMDOGG ye» 25,253 25,503 24,121 ‘o Tunica .+++++. 18,646 16,479 12,158 Livingston ..... 19.453 22,302 20,668 a Union ...-.--+. 18.997 16,522. 15,606 McDonald ..... 13.680: 13,074 30,868 33,018 30,575 i Washington .... 48,933 49,216 40,414 Madison ...-+s- 11,273 9,975 9,268 ot Wayne «se dince 14,709 12,539 9,817 i DAG rine soe es 10,088 9,616 8,600 4 Webster 14,953 13,619 12,060 Marion ........ 30,572 26,331. 26,233 4 fetitcsén ..1ss 28078 . 21,458 17,592 oe ee gas. Tn) «Pe an a Winston ......- 17,139 14,124 12,089 Millen. -.: -s oben 16,717 15,187 14162 = Yalobusha eeeee 21.518 19,742 soit Mississippi Pt ee Let ee io mame 2 cee, 46672 43,948 36, Mente 14°37 5°93 iy 797 551,270 1,289,600 Montoe ies. 18.304 19.716 20,790 s The State..-1,797,114 1,551,270 1,289,60( Monroe ....1.. 18g 18,718 20.080 i COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 New Madrid ... : 2 2, Newton | i2sga0s. Ziad 27,001 22,108 7 Todaw 14 oe coe, 22.700 21,728 17,417 Nodaway «sss. 28,83 32,938 30,9 in | eae 1982 ~©=—«17,332 ~—-:16,000 Oeeron. : acta: 14,681 13,906 10,467 ees | 13,604 16,501 15,533 Qase 1600s: 14,283 14,096 13,080 Aydrain § Tuean Chariton «sass 23,503 26,826 ee SF ; aoe ae 3 417 50040 38'307 Christian 225i 15,832 16,939 14,0 Louis +++ 82417 oe eee aBLTT0 5,126 St. Louis y ; 12.51% 15,383 15) 883 Clark ce emeeew 20302 18903 19,856 Ste. Genevieve 10,607 10, 359 sees gee 5 38 " 17.363 17,138 eetine sot ee 29:448 33,703 : nton 1iddaee 15,297 ST aes < 1 21,957 20,578 17,28] Schuyler ...--+-> 9,0 ; i982 12°674 anlage 20311 22,532 22,707 Braflatid | ia. 026: 11}86 ; 19OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 AND 1890 ee MISSOURI Continued NEBRASKA Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Stott £. .. daa. Zoe 13,092 11,228 Cheyenne Vei.e: 4,551 5,570 5,693 Shannon .<<..¢: 11,443 11.247 8,898 Clay es ob oe 15,729 15,735 16,310 Shelby, ....2... 14,864 6,167 15,642 Goliast .2't ieee 11,610 mek 10,453 1 Stoddard #5 =. 27,807 24,669 1.7,327 Citmiie .sesues 13,782 14,584 12,265 8 Stone Sasha ane 11,559 9,892 7,090 Custer 04 .iteees 25,668 19,758 21,677 Sullivan 27020. 18,598 20,282 19,000 Dakota ..¢eiis. 6,564 6,286 5,386 Taneyi 23. S242 9,134 LO a2. 7,973 DAWES 4 , ee : NEBRASKA ROU, 4. ci eene 10,521 10/542 10/817 ; COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Redwillow ..... 11,056 9,604 8'837 i oo Richardson .... 17,448 19,614 17,574 ii Adams .s 28'969 23°596 18644 ; CRAVEN <0 .<2-. 46 25,594 24,160 20,533 Yadkin ~...¢@:¢ 15,428 14,083 13,790 j re ecane soe Spee ene “Uaat MOD iissiataaeess 12,072 11,464 9,490 PULFItUCK 2. oo gs 7,693 6,525 5, iA wi : nate i Dare ie 4.841 AT57 3,768 The State. ..2,206,287 1,893,810 1,617,947 WavinsOn 2. cas <. 29,404 23,403 21,702 . ‘ : Digan coke. <. 31394 12,115 11,621 NORTH DAKOTA f Duplin -...3..... 25,442 22,405 18,690 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 k Durham .... 35,276 26,233 18,041 — ; Edgecombe ..... 32,010 26,591 24,113 SURM 6s acts ae SO AOL. 6) Sc eecs ; MOrsytn 5710 271) 35,261 28,434 DATHAS oe oun en 18,066 13,159 7.045 ' Franklin «9°. 24 692 25.116 21,090 MONGAs. -< « cece ss 12,681 8,320 2,460 i Gaston: 2. 2 e.: 37,063 27,903 17,764 ROS. Ainiy'ge 10,186 975 176 H Gates: cee. 10,455 10,413 10,252 BOwinead ...%.. 17,295 7,532 2,893 HM Graham. 2 ik: 4,749 4,343 3,313 Owen 0, 8nO 6,061 5,573 Harmer ....2 5 22,174 15,988 13,700 ERIN oes coavas. Oe. eee 159 tHavwood ~..... 21,020 16,222 13,346 HOUY 66s snack 4,800 3.330 LST Henderson ..... 16,262 14,104 12,589 PMMOne . acl. 9,796 4.349 TOT) Herttora. <..74, 15,436 14,294 13,851 PORTER. 65 os. oe 5,313 3,770 1,210 HVde 0.6 eee 8,840 9,278 8,903 Grand Forks ... 27,888 24,459 18,357 tredell © ods a hs 84,315 29,064 25,462 Griggs... kc. 6,274 4,744 2,817 Packson ..<¢isvs 12,008 11,853 9,512 Hettinger .22;4, O.607. "= <3 81 22 Db) . ' i 8 th SOOO TierSOS CS Ss OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 anp 1890 NORTH DAKOTA Continued OHIO Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Meee... ccs... 5,962 1,754 1,214 Hardin ........ 30,407 31,187 28,939 Lamgure ....... 10.724 61048 37187 Harrison .. stv 19,076 20,486 20,830 De gc « xin aw 6,168 1,625 597 Henry cae ee a 25,129 21,282 25,080 Moeflenry ...<.% 17.627 5,253 1,584 Biehland ..22<. 28,711 30,982 29,048 } 795 2 9 Piogking: ...9%4. 23,650 24,398 22,658 Mcintosh <....% 1,251 4,818 3,248 MWekenvie |... -. Bo ee Holmes —. 220502 17,909 LO 5 La 21,139 : "57 7 Piro 2-023 t: 34,206 32,330 31,949 BAGeeen 6 oisen es 14,578 4,791 893 és c iene 4 665 1.778 428 yo esi kak 30,798. 34,248 28,408 Mountrail ...... 8,491 a 122 efferson ...... 65,423 44,357 39,415 Mains ........ 25 289 8.069 4.728 a ER a oe 30,181 27,768 27,600 Te a ; 7 Teakeéic. cs. ot. 22,92 21,680 18,235 Were, cn eee. 10,140 7,316 4,293 ; Oliver : 3577 990 464 Lawrence ..: -. 16,097, 17,905 - 19.148 Bs ol laa ae 42185 7.961 1.681 Moprow <-,45 sr 16,815. 27,879 1etze meee ee ee ee 111814 8340 1212 Muskingum .... 57,488 53,185 51,210 a ee 20'5 153¢ "875 Nobleq..<40c0 18,601 19,466 20,753 Wrliains . ssm. = 20,249 1,530 875 Otic 39’ 360 22213 21974 The State ....577,056 a319,146 b182,719 Paulding ...++s. 22.730 27,528 25,932 4 (a) Includes population (2,208) of Standing erry ee segs aan Soot Shee ey Rock Indian reservation, not returned in 1910. Pickaway trees oe 18172 17°482 a (b) Includes population (809) of Fort Yates and Pike Peet eeee 30°307 39246 27’868 ee Standing Rock Indian Agency, and of Church, Portage .....«.- 32° R24 93'713 93'421 a Renville, Stevens, and Williams counties, are ars Oe og nde 20 5 30-188 4 u we pinladehe cee yuh 04,04 aah ee OHIO Richland ©: s.-2.47,000 44,289 85,072 Be Bi 5 ROSS, aye eiciale ic ate 40,069 40,940 39,454 Be Lal Sandusky <1... BRIT 84,311 © 730,614 = Ad 94 755 26.328 96.093 SciotoO | ss « cn oes as aot eee F ; Ala 5. csndaay 2%, 1 5F 26,32§ 26,093 Sg eee 9 ; Rs. cuseo es 56,580 47,976 40,644 eens aa 24°663 24,625 24,707 Ashland ....... Bees chaee deers Stark? cere egeeeee: Te Sale Ashtabula ~«... 59,547 51,448 45,695 Sain nee 108253 71,715 54,089 AATONS, oss vin 47,798 38,730 35,194 Teunbull (cies 52.766 46,591 42,373 Auglaize ...a.+« 31,246 31,192 28,100 T er 57.035 53,751 46,618 we Rke "1, QTE 57 2 13 uscarawas wie? e et > oat BelmO0t «sc esi 76,856 on of ) Hes Unione... 3. .2e- 24 STL 2,342 oa : 24.832 28,237 29,899 ee : 1 Butler lL 70271 «56,870 48,597 Vass ett ee acs eaea, tees CATTOU «cae tens 15,761 16,811 17,566 Warren a 24.497 25,584 295.468 Champaign ..... 26,351 26,642 26,980 Washington .... 45,422 48,245 42,380 Clark ......ees Bete 08,080 Sete Wane ee 38,058 37,870 39,005 Clermont .ii«es 29,551 31,610 33,553 Wiflians 25,198 24,953 24,897 Clton = oss. ues 23,680 24,202 24,240 Wosdt , 7 3 : won ry ~ nao) Saeed Li o¢'036 © -33'915 «31,927 The State ..4,767,121 4,157,545 3,672,316 ray 1 eeeees 34,036 aoe 2 O70 ; Cuyahoga '-..-.637,425 499120 308.070 OKLAHOMA Deliaiee ..¢21.. 24,408 26,887 25,760 couNTY 1910 1907 Delaware ...-.- 27,182 26,401 27,189 7 sree ee. ke ey sss 38,327 37,650 35,462 Adair +... hes 10,535 ay eee Fairfield ....... 39'201 34,259 33,939 Alfa\ia, (2. 18,138 16,070 Fayette Aes 21,744 21.725 22,309 Atokae 2. ccs & ae 13,808 nase Franklin ......221,567 164,460 124,087 Beager Vig -« 15 < 1 aaa Fulton... +s00-23,914 22,801 22,023 Beckham ....--+ 19,699 47,358 en Sig 5.745 27,918 27,005 Blame” e..<22 96 ek eee agaqe 14.744 —:13;489 Bipiit a. . kee 29,854 27,865 oy 03. 29.73 31,613 29,820 Ounddige Serra t 4 35,685 ee edie 5, 42,716 34,425 28,645 Canadian ....... 23,501 20,110 aden oo 460,732 409,479 374,573 Carter ..++--+s oo eg Haaunelc ee BT1,860 41,993 42,563 Gherakee ..sere 46, , 23oe ee bite de we OS OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 AND OREGON Continued OKLAHOMA Continued. COUNTY 1910 1907 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Choctaw ...-... 21,862 17,340 Clatsop ...5 meee 16,106 2,765 10,016 Gimarron ~.cn as; 4,553 5,927 Colimbia -.c5s5. 10,580 6,237 5,191 Cleveland ...... 18,843 18,460 Coie’... sedan at oe 10,324 8,874 Chaliie....2eh,s 15,817 15,585 (Sauk... eee 9.315 3,964 3,244 Comanche ...... 41,489 Si,(o9 CTY. “65s an eee 2,044 1,868 1,709 Craigie... 08 17,404 14,955 Tiouvlas .. i602: 19,674 14,565 11/864 (erekie... DGas 26,223 18,365 (low inp auc: 3,701 3,201 3600 Chace... 220 .ne88 ona. 18,478 Grant of 5,607 5,948 5,080 Delaware "; 111,469 9,876 Hurtiey ...c%ii' 4,059 2,598 2.559 Dewey 14,132 18,329 Hood River SONG were ads ie 1S ke... tes Foto 13,97§ THCKSON «cece 25,756 3,698 455 Garfield 33,050 28,300 Josephine ...... 9,567 : ret 1878 Garvint ~....e.6.° 26,545 Be tLot KRigmatn: v5 65 ea 8,554 3,970 2444 Grady... 2.Ua bes 30,309 23,420 ike 3.03.88 95 4658 2'847 2,604 Grenit &.. 2. ?om.- 18,760 17,638 TARE Foe os nee 33,783 19 "604 15.198 Geeerak ek 16.449 23,624 Lincoln 5,587 3.575 4 Warmon .. gies SL LjO ZO Fe ns 2% TTT Go eee eed a 22,662 18.603 16 865 Flasper: ...2s::-.. 8,189 8,089 Malheur ....... 8601 4,203 2'601 Ehasikell: 2 eck « 18,875 16,865 Warton. és tae 39 780 27'713 22934 Fewhes! ...a2<55 24°040 19.945 Motrow .: i.e: S067 4451. 3hGS Jackson: .. «6s. 23 431 17,087 Multnomah 226,261 103 167 74,884 Jeflerson ...<.5.. 17,430 13,439 Pole -% ....ctee3 13469 9) 923 7858 Johnston ....... 16,734 18,672 Sheewan .. ee 3477 1792 Key: 2. ---jpens 26,999 24,757 Tilamook ...... 6,266 4°471 2'932 Kingfisher 18,825 18,010 Uimaidla ..40is0 20°309 18.049 13,381 Kucwask (> «eae 27,526 22,247 Union 13. 36168 1607 2" ' 58 Baca eae 1! 5,070 12,044 Tiatimier os eee fe Li 321 9,340 Wallowa 8 364 5538 2661 oy eee 29127 24.678 Wasco "*** 5396 137199 a eat PAHGOM, ocak bcs 34,779 37,293 Washington es 54°599 11467 4. = 37,2 ‘ashingt: . 21,682 4,467 11,972 yangeo Ce see 31 740 30,711 Wheeler .i.../, 2,484 2,443 OVE ic vies ie 0,23¢ 3 Pe DOF Sah eS McClain See. os at ip kas ? pies Ee ree washer? ie te ere oe 20,681 13,198 The State .672,765 413,536 313,767 eimtosh ..4.....20,0GL 17,975 -ENNSVI.VAN FO ws «Seb ws 15,248 14,307 PENNS 0 Marshal] ....... 11,619 13,144 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 NEA NOS <4." sec 13,596 11,064 Marrray, ....2..5 12,744 11,948 Adams ........ 34,319 34,496 33,486 Muskogee ...... 52.743 37,467 Allegheny 1,018,463 775,058 551,959 WOE. cco eee 14,945 14,198 ATMstcone 1.5 67,880 52.551 46,747 Nowata ....:.2. 14,223 10,453 Beaver 78,353 56,432 50,077 Okfuskee ....... 19/995 15.595 Bedford .... 38,879 39,468 38,644 Oklahoma ...... 85,232 55,849 Berks ........ 183,222 159,615 37,327 Okmulgee ...... 91115 14,362 Blair... esse ees 108,858 85,099 70,866 Osage eee 20,101 15,332 Bradford ee ees 54.526 59,403 59.233 Oita... done 15.712 12.827 Ptiee ek ces 76,530 71,190 70.615 Pawnee ...1<.25 17,332 17112 Butler 72,689 56,962 55,339 yo. eee: 23,735 22,022 Cambria 66,131 104,837 66,375 Pitebure .¢.. 3% 47,650 37,677 Cameron sees 7,644 7,048 7,238 Pontotoc ee 24.331 23.057 Carbon ee 52.846 4 1.510 28 624 Pottawatomie 43,595 £2 979 Center: ...0.is«: 43,424 42,894 43.269 Pushmataha .. 10,118 8295 Chester ........ 109,213 95,695 89,377 Roger Mills...... 12,861 13,239 Clarion ........ 36,638 34,283 36,802 Ropers. ... fs ds 17,736 15,485 Clearfield .\.... 93,768 80,614 69.565 Seminole ....... 19,964 14,687 Clinton ......-. 31,545 29,197 23,685 Sequoyah ae 25,005 99.499 Coramrnia~ «seas 48,467 39,896 26 °839 Stephens ....... 92252 20.148 Crawford ...... 61,565 63.643 65.324 Rexde: 9.5 ase 14.249 16.448 Cumberland «.,.-54,479 50.344 47 271 Tilted «2. ee co 18,650 12,869 Dauphin ...20.% 136,152 114,443 96.977 - , ‘ « soil uwisa 2 46s ee 34,995 21,693 Delaware «ii. 117,906 94,762 74,683 Wagoner ....... 22.086 19.529 ee 35,871 32'903 29'939 Washington 7484 121813 eee 115,517 98.473 86,074 Washita =. 2...-: 25:0384 22 007 Fayette ... 4: - 167,449 110)412 80,006 Wodds ick s. 17,567 15,517 vo ore 9,435 11,039 8482 Woodward ..... 16592 14/595 Franklin ..i.... 59-775 54.902 651,433 The State ..1,657,155 1,414,177 Fulton ......... 9,703 9,924 10,137 414, Gieene: fi tisdul 28,882 28281 28,935 OREGON een .... 38,304 34,650 35.751 eo MGIANA . .06s5s OU,CL0 42.556 29175 COUNTY 1910 1900 1896 Jefferson hbo. 6165.00 aoieas tthe Baker’. 0/0 ist 18,076 15,597 3,76: pO see ae 525,013 16,054 16,655 Bonne 2. Beek ielbas Bak G.1 8. eens : . 259,570 193,831 142,088 Clackamas oS 29,931 19 658 15.232 I. on = Cueens 167,029 159,241 149,095 , 0,233 @WIENCE «ices 10,008 57,042 37,517 4 ¢ Pa A 4 4 tdOFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION PENNSYLVANIA Continued SOUTH CAROLINA COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 IAs ec kos 59,565 53,827 48.131 Dec go ee as 18,832 93,893 76,631 Pierme 4. iss. ak 43,186 257,121 201.203 logeomine 65... 80,813 75,663 70.579 MGR Can . oss eee 47,868 51,343 46,863 PROECER oc ae eo 77,699 57,387 55,744 MG «2. cee 27,785 23,160 19.996 Misgroe . ws sss ci 22,941 21,161 20,144 Montgomery .169,590 138,995 123,290 Montour 14,868 15,526 15,645 Northampton LZ 7, oe 99.687 84 220 Northumberland 111 90,911 74,698 Petre ia 5 is eG Ss 24, 18 36 26,263 26.276 Philadelphia ..1,549,008 1,293,697 1,046.964 PR dee ees. a 8,033 8,766 9,412 POUGE S66 dias 5's 29,729 30,621 22,718 Schuylkill . 207,894 112,021 154,163 SSHGE ons os 16,800 17,304 17,651 Somerset GT, 717 49,461 37.349 ea. 5s or 11,293 12,134 11,620 Susquehanna 37,746 40,043 40,093 SAO so 4 clade oc 42.829 49 086 52,313 Union 16,249 17,592 17,820 VeGHanSO: onic aso 56,359 49,648 46,640 Werren §..,14., 39,573 38,946 37,585 Washington 143,680 92,181 71,155 Wayne ~ suns. 29,236 0,101 31,010 Westmoreland .231,304 160,175 112,819 Wyoming .....% 15,509 17.752 15,891 MOCK: 4 ses casio 136,405 116,413 99,489 The State ..7,665,111 6,302,115 5,258,014 RHODE ISLAND COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Bristol 17,602 13,144 11,428 ee 36,378 29,976 26,754 IWEWDOTE «aiceas |! 39,335 32,599 28,552 Providence 424,417 328,683 255.123 Washington 24,942 24,154 3,649 The State .542,610 428,556 345 506 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 ABbegile cee. vs 34,804 33,400 46.854 POG 5 ca uno <% 41,849 39.032 21 S22 AUGOTEOn sss 36,027 32.388 29,134 DS ee eas POR feet ee eee Dorchester ..... 17,891 16,294 oy Edeeheld «.....'. 28,281 25,478 49,259 TEAPIOUL sb so ote 29,442 29,425 28,599 Florence 35,671 28,474 25,027 Georgetown 22,270 22,846 20,857 Greenville ..... 68,377 53,490 44,310 Greenwood 34,225 28,343 seees Hamptov ...-<. 25,126 23,738 20 544 PAOITY sn beds es 26,995 23,364 19,256 Herenaw «sere 27,094 24,696 22,361 Lancaster 26,650 24,311 20,761 OBarens «cpcices 41,550 37,382 31,610 BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 anp 1890 SOUTH CAROLINA Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 EGQ8 eee AD sos cieferar ae Bee Eexington <~.2. 32,040 27,264 22,18 4 Manion: 7. 20,596 35,181 29,976 Maribdro- <,...5: 31,189 27,639 23,500 Newberry 0. = 3: 34,586 30,182 26,434 Qepnée .. ies 27 00k 23,634 18,687 Orangeburg 55,893 59,663 49,393 Pickens 25,422 195375 16,389 Richland -. 7,05 2% 55,143 45,589 36, 821 aldda Ge fos. oc: 20,943 18/9663). ose Spartanburg 83,465 65,560 55,385 SUMPCH 4. ve ae 38,472 Fl 2 & 43,605 Union .....°7 29,911 25,501 25,363 Williamsburg 37,626 31,685 DULL Yor es, se 47,718 41,684 38,831 The State 1,515,400 1,340,316 1,151,149 SOUTH DAKOTA: COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Armstrong ..) .. GE 4 ois ciseis aatietaes AUTO ay. 2 6,143 4,011 5,045 Beadie <7... .;..- 15706 8,081 9,586 Bonhonime 23). 11,061 10,379 9,057 SFOOKINGS. 2.2. 14,178 £2 561. 10,132 Browe 92.5335. « 25,867 15,286 16,855 Braver. ...- dine? 6,451 5,401 Gita Buatalo. 2a 1,589 1,790 993 Butte’... :. o26G 2: 4,993 2,907 1,068 Campbell 3.4 &: 5,244 4,527 3,510 Charles Mix 14,899 8,498 4,178 Glark ... hae 10,901 6,942 6,728 Clave Fo. . aie ee 8,711 9,316 7,509 Codineton «4 ». 14,092 8,779 7,037 Corson 2,929 ae Cpe o> See eie Guster’ 5... daK 4,458 2128 4,891 Davison .. . G3 a2 11.625 7,483 5,449 Day we, .. | Sen oe 14,372 12,254 9,168 Weuel 2. .3.n5 5 7,768 6,656 4,574 Dewey DUAR A Lea ae Douclas’ s.a, 6,400 5,012 4,600 Edmunds 7,654 4,916 4,399 Ball River <4... 1 -1Go 3,541 4,478 Hawi o. . false 6,716 3,547 4,062 os ant 10,303 9,103 6,814 Gregory 13,061 5a: 483 Hamine .s 2.5. 2: 1,475 5,945 4,625 Eland, 2.3. oe 7,870 4,525 6,546 Hanson .. 37-2. 6,237 4,947 4,267 HATO sss a AOR ak sue segs Eitienes -... 1 ae G2: 3,684 5,044 Hutchinson 12,319 11,897 10,469 Higdon SOU 1,492 1,860 Jeraiwld <.:3..5 4. 5,120 2,798 3.605 Kingsbury 2 DOO 9,866 8,562 Dake. : aa OMT 9,137 7,508 Lawrence . 19,694 17,897 11°43 Lincoln .. 22 2 ale 12 161 9,143 Eymar 3-30. «. 10,848 2602 437 McCook 9,589 8,689 6,448 McPherson 6,791 6,327 5,940 Marshall 8,021 5,942 4,544 Meade 12,640 4,907 4,712 Mittens .34:....45 7,661 5,864 5165 Minnehaha ..... 29,631 23,926 21,879 Moody 8,695 8,326 5,941 Pennington 12,453 5,610 7,050 Pérkiis ..2...% ; Tl. 345 toe nee Potter: -:..c.3.. 4,466 2,988 2,910 Raberts .....7%. 14,897 12-216 1,997 SATO one eters 6,607 4,464 4,610 Schnasse DOVE. tae i | a eee SSM aces ans cue 15,981 9,487 10,581 Stanley= aac ses 14,975 sat 1207“una ee ee ae Pome oS. - eh ha i 1 | | { : | | f 4 | } OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION SOUTH DAKOTA Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Siering ..<.c.. PRA insiscee 96 ally’. 2. poke 2,462 1,715 2,412 ALTON o% sic shee ots S388) 2 geese) bees Turner 13,840 13,175 10,2586 Union. .ac44e5 10,676 1150 9,130 Walworth .4.... 6,488 3,839 Z,153 VMankton. .s. ssi 13,135 12,649 10,444 Pine Ridge Indian reservation (c) 6,607 Bi Gatec “Fan h Rosebud Indian reservation (c) 3,960 B20 Le it eee The State ....583,888 a401,570 b328,808 (a) Includes population (4,015) of Chey- enne and Standing Rock Indian reservations not returned by counties in 1900. (b) Includes population (40) of Washing- ton county in 1890. (c) Includes unorganized counties (Bennett, Mellette, Shannon, Todd, Washabaugh, and Washington) for which population was not separately returned in 1910; part of Rosebud Indian reservation attached to Gregory and Tripp counties since 1900. TENNESSEE COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Amderson .:.:.: L707 17,634 15,128 Medtord ..3340.. 22,667 23,845 24,739 Renton s..cu ss 12,452 11,888 11,230 PICGSOE .6 4's 6,329 6,626 6,134 BAIGUUL .....s200. 20,800 19,206 17,589 Bradley. ..i.4.. 16,336 15,759 13,607 Campbell Piles deed 47.317 13,486 anion ..cops ss 10,825 AZ e107 Gamroll ...aitaee Sasol 24,250 23,630 Carter... 4 .t'sn es 19,838 16,688 13,389 Gheatham 2c. 10,540 10,112 8,845 Chester .....'.. 9,090 9,896 9,069 Glaiporneé <6. 23,504 20,696 15,103 BT ss 6 Sc ces 9,009 8,421 7,26 MOCK Bogs Se he 19,399 19,153 16,523 SOTEO 4 cc. Ges 15,625 15,574 13,827 CeGRetL a.c50 46 16,076 15,867 15,146 CGCamberland .... 9,327 8,311 5,376 Wavidson s.. <<. 149,478 122,815 108,174 Tecate... .LOD9S 10,439 8,995 WOKALID 6.62 ¢.cess> LDyhOe 16,460 15,650 Dickson 5 densa cbs ee 18,635 13,645 Wer vc. 27,721 23,776 19,878 INAVOULOG 1, 5 cis e's 30,257 29,701 28,878 Pentress. .2..2.. 7,446 6,106 5,226 Prawn <..5 6s. 20,491 20,392 18,929 CAibSGM «< sicke ok 41,630 39,408 35,859 MAUIES. 650 om 32,629 33,035 34,957 Grainger .i2. tw. 13,888 15,512 13,196 (revtie ..c.. co 31,083 30,596 26,614 Grundy ..c24<:> 8,322 7,802 6,345 FEARIDLON © ccs a's 13,650 2,728 11,418 lamston ic.a.. 89,267 61,695 53,482 HLANCOCK. 4 cae: ic 10,778 Li cad 10,342 Hlacdeman 4... 23,011 22,976 21,029 WAAC 3 ee ws 17.524 19,246 17,698 Hawkins .ccaG 23,587 24,267 22,246 Maywood <..<.-. 25,910 25,189 23,558 Henderson ..... 17,030 13117 16,336 LGATY 6.x saute foe 25,434 24,208 21,070 Hickman «2.2.32. 16,527 16,367 14,499 TIOUSTON «ata ee 6,224 6,476 5,390 Humphreys .... 13,908 13,398 11/720 FACKSON ..iesad. 1LD/005 15,039 13,325 THONGS -csccpaves 0;ae0) 5,407 4,903 26 BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 AND 1890 TENNESSEE Continued Marshall .ccis. 4 MAUTY: cise ces, & 6,872 0,456 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 JEUGYSOn ss4055 i7f,ibo 18,590 16,478 JOUUSON ..% 5 sie 13,191 10,589 8,858 RINKS 6. oc ce ted 94,187 74,302 59,557 TORE Wun tees 8,704 7,368 5,304 Lauderdale «.... 21,105 2. O71 18,756 Lawrence <..... 11,009 15,402 12,286 LAWS)... eee 6,033 4,455 2005 Lincoln 25,908 26,304 27,382 TOGO sss alee 13,612 10,838 921s MeNMN . 20,716 18,585 15.329 Montgomery ... 33,672 36,017 29,697 MEGOLOG: «oc 0c eta 4,800 5,706 5,795 Morea ..cess Seo 9,587 7,639 CORIO 6.562055: 29,946 28,286 2ELATS ClhveTtOR 021 18,761 SHGIDY << icecs oot aoe 153,557 112,740 ies) [Rt eee rane ey 18,548 19,026 18,404 SIOCWAlt .scceesls. 24,000 15,224 12,193 SSTHUUAl 3 66 aes 28,120 24,935 20,879 SeITITIO’ © is woN see BOL OET 26,072 23,668 IDLO 6.04 des oO eeOe 29,273 24,271 Trousdale i. GioTe 5,004 5,850 RTUCOL san 0s oe a 7,201 5,851 4.619 Wt00) So osc va ys 11,414 12,894 11,459 Van Buren ..... 2.754 3,126 2.863 WVHItren 9 5:.5% 3 16,534 16,410 14,413 Washington .... 28,968 22,604 20,354 Wayne .i1.:.5 lees 12,936 11.471 Wreamley ...;.<. 31,929 32.546 28,955 WHITE 3.6 665 15,420 14,157 12.348 Williamson J. ES.2.0 26,429 26,321 RVUSON 64405 05s 25,394 27,078 27,148 The State ..2,184,789 2,020,616 1,767,518 TEXAS COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 AMGETSON 2.4% 25044 26,845 20,736 Baylor 8.411 2052 2.595 REAS 245 occas és 12,090 4,120 3,120 BIE wt ce pa bcs es 49,186 45,535 33.377 Besar si vvekoas 119,676 69,422 49,266 Blanco 4.811 4,708 4.649 Borden .«cokk ds 1,386 776 "222OFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 AND 1890 TEXAS Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 PM ce cis 19,013 17,390 14,224 ne. t CS, 34,827 26,676 20,267 RIPUEOTIN a5 50:10 © 13,299 14,861 11,506 WOU EON nas vet > o 18,919 18,859 16,650 TREE SUET wai ss.< 5,220 2,356 1,033 BEEIBCOE 6 cen soos 2.162 PADS 72 ee. Brown 22,935 16,019 11,421 Burleson 18,687 18,367 13,001 PT OEL vce cens 10,755 10,528 10,747 RSOIGWEll> oo ia'ss 24,237 21,765 15,769 BInOW -c.c eo ss a,63D 2,095 815 CRNA . vce 3 12.973 8,768 0,457 Dameron... 27,158 16,095 14,424 RTI ee Ss 6 eins 9,551 9,146 6,624 CereOn 6606s 2127 469 356 Ce oo ceils vies 27,587 22,841 22,554 See 1,850 400 9 Chambers «..... 4,234 3,046 2,241 Cherokee idess 28,0as 25,154 22,915 OAICTCSE — pices. 9,538 2188 1,479 OAV. sccuvaeirs 17,043 9,231 7,503 Cochran 65 2b. aes Piee oc ces 6,412 3,430 2,059 oeman § ha vies 22,618 10,077 6.112 Rares. ca 8 ke ks 49,021 50,087 36,736 Collingsworth .. 5,224 1.233 357 Colorado We 18,897 22,203 19,512 oo ea 8,434 7,008 6,398 Comanche ...... 27,186 23,009 15,608 CGNCHO .icssses 6,654 1,427 1,065 ROGKE scseatist- 26,603 27,494 24,696 SEVEN «ee iuy cs 21,703 21,308 16,873 COHEIG oss esc’ 4,396 1,002 240 Crane «4 cso n eels 331 51 15 ROGKELE .iices 1,296 1,591 194 Crosby 1,765 788 346 PORLAT. saxeudeows 4,001 146 112 MURS 6 naw oes * 135,748 82,726 67,042 BaAwWeON sick ces. 2,020 37 25 Pie Witt... 23,501 21-311 14,307 Deaf Smith 3,942 843 179 Be eee ee ee 14,566 15,249 9,117 Denton 31,258 28,318 21,289 PMCUOUNG . 4.0 25a 3,092 116 295 Bee Ss uw hanes 3,460 1,106 1,049 SII. os wa «0 5,284 2,756 1,056 RAWAL «osc dared s 8,964 8,483 7,598 MOAtIANG «xt 0% 23,421 Li.BiL L0.31%3 MN 6's cay 60% L178 381 224 CAPTORS. xcacnci¥ 3,768 3,108 1,970 Lo a ee 53,629 50,059 31,774 le EP RSO cates ose 52,599 24,886 15,678 PPE: 4 Ge heh & 32,095 29,966 21,594 BAUS < os iosee % 0 > 35,649 33,342 20,706 Perit) «kw oe 44,801 51,793 38,709 HAVOULE . case ed 29,796 36,542 31,481 IRN 6c 448 ne 12,596 3,708 2,996 PAOVG: <0 s0n nes 4,638 2,020 529 MOAYO 1h bsku oe 5,726 poo eke tae et Be © 5-0 sss 18,168 16,538 10,586 EIT) so ps 0 9,331 8,674 6,481 rreestoneé ...>:- 20,557 18;910 15,987 et hd cea ees 8,895 4,200 3,112 Hee os kk 1,255 55 68 Galveston ...... 44,479 44,116 31,476 oe 1,995 185 14 CTD. .53-9 9,447 8,229 7,056 Glasscock ...... 1,143 286 208 aa Se sk 9.909 8,310 5,910 Gonzales 28,055 28:882 18,016 pt ee 3,405 480 203 TAVSON sec css: 65,996 63,661 53,211 TORS tacit se 14,140 12,343 9,402 TEXAS Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Grimes a wkhyane Oe 21,205 26,106 2 Oe, Guadalupe * 22.5. 24,913 21,385 LO ale’ PAlG: = ok cee ek 7,566 1,680 a2 BA ini con ieee 8,279 1,670 703 Elamilton 22.5.4 15 ois 135520 9343 Hanstord os... 935 167 13 Ebataeman § 2... 12s 3,634 3,904 Hardin . 625,42 12,947 5,049 3,956 Harris 115,693 63,786 37,249 Harrison 3,243 31,878 Corian Hartley 9.2.0. 1,298 OL 252 Haskell .s7ee.%: 16,249 2.6a7 1,665 Baye? .. 6h! 15,518 «14142, 28.952 Hemphill gic,0% 3,170 815 519 Wiecdessnn 20131 19,970 12,285 Hidalgo, 23,41 21,048 13,932 VYoakin seneees 602 26 4 NOUNE ::: 21,167 21,948 23,274 TONER. ons ache 'nce 16,578 16,517 16,997 Pynenpurey *...:« 12,780 11,705 1 E372 Reagwsonl sos e's 10,055 10,216 10,225 Mathews ......- 8,922 8,239 7,584 Mecklenburg 28,956 26,551 25,359 MigGIeSeX. 2... 8,852 8,220 7,458 Montgomery 17,268 15,852 17,742 Nansemond 26,886 23,078 19,692 Nelson iecre ss 16,821 16,075 15,336 Néw Kent 455.2. 4,682 4,865 5,511 WNortolik 5. teats 2. 52,744 50,780 77.038 Northampton . 16,672 3,770 10,3138 Northumberland. 10,777 9,846 7,885 NottOway -«+%s.4\. 13,462 12,366 11,582 OTANRE cccecsss 13,486 12.571 12,814 ages . 26% set ae 14,147 13,794 13,092 Patesek 6s aes se 17,195 15,403 14,147 Pittsylvania 50,709 46,894 59,941 Powhatan. ..«.-- 6,099 6,824 6,791 Prince Edward 14,266 15,045 14,694 Prince George .. 7,848 7,752 7,872 Prince William . 12,026 AT Vie 9,805 Princess Anne .. 11,526 11,192 9,510 WHIAGKE “S653 339 © 17,246 14,609 12,790 Rappahannock 8,044 8,843 8,678 : 7,415 7,088 7,146 Richmond ...-- , Op 30101 Roanoke eoeseeveeve 19,623 15,837 0, VIRGINIA Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Rockbridge .. 21,171 21,799 23,062 Rockingham 34,902... 33,527... 31,299 Russell ....5i.. 23,474 18,031 16,126 sCOth s.. 0.5 Hit: 23,814 22,694 21,694 Shenandoah 20,942 20,253 19,671 smyth ......... 20,326 EAT 13,360 Southampton - 26,302 22,848 20,078 Spotsylvania 9,935 9,239 14,233 Staftord 8,070 8,097 7,362 Surry s. . O;med 8,469 8,256 Sussex: 24 270e.- 13,664 12,082 1100 Tazewell cn es. 24,946 23,384 19,899 Warten .cicse. 8,589 8,837 8,280 Warwick 6,041 4,888 6,650 Washington . 32,830 28,995 29,020 Westmoreland .. solo 9,243 8,399 Wise ii. c.coiee 34,162 19,653 9,345 Wythe ....0.447. 20372 20,437 18,019 Vater... .4% ‘ 1,157 7,482 7,596 The State ..2,061,612 1,854,184 1,655,980 WASHINGTON COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 AGAMS <. dati se 10,920 4,840 2,098 NSOUIG. 5. 5,831 3,366 1,580 Benten §..<:2%.: T. OST ea a eee Ghehalis ..4%535 35,590 15,124 9,249 Chelan 15,104 Bt931) og eee @latam . .: aa. 6,755 5,603 Deke Glarke 2... 255 26,115 13,419 117.09 Goltimpia .:225- 7,042 7,128 705 @awit? wesc tc. aatszedl 7,877 5,917 Hedgias .. ise: 9,227 4,926 SOL Beery t.. 6 es 4,800 ADG2 eo. se Franklin a 5,153 486 696 Garfield. . 425 3 4,199 3,918 3,897 Grant sc.6 alk os RiGORE eee eae oe saspene Island 2 4,704 1,870 Lise Jefferson 2.2% < 8,337 BIDE 8,368 HOSE ois oss aie oe 284,638 110,053 63,989 Witsan. « <.. asia re 17,647 616g 4,624 Kittitas: «. ic 18,561 9,704 8,777 Whelitat. . 2s 10,180 6,407 5,167 lewis 3... eae s BF, NOT 15 157 11,499 incon: .. 2.252 17,539 11,969 9,312 Masom ...22-.. 5,156 3,810 2,826 Okanovan: s.6%.-. 12,887 4,689 1,467 Pacific PAL OL 5,983 4,358 Pierce ; 120,812 55,515 50,940 Sat |iiail «3. 3,603 2,928 22012 Game cio dawns 29,241 14,272 8,747 Skamania 5 2,887 1,688 174 Snohomish ..... 59,209 23,950 8,514 Spokane saa. 139,404 57,542 37,487 Stevens. 2.245. « 25,297 10,543 4,341 Thurston «..6..- 17,581 9,927 9,675 Wahkiakum . 83,285 2,819 2,526 Walla Walla ... 31,931 18,680 12,224 Whatcom ...... 49,511] TART ALG 18,591 Whitman s2c0): =. 33,280 25,360 19,109 Valkima. < omer a 41,709 13,462 4,429 The State...1,141,990 518,103 349,390 WEST VIRGINIA COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 RAF DOUL ~~ a ctelsinre 15,858 14,198 12,702 soeralty ones 21,999 19,469 18,702 BOONE. o.% ovens 10,33 8,194 6,885 Braxton .cc2ses 23,023 18,904 13,928 Hohoke ..tesnc. LORS (G7 6,660 Cabell ..oceevece 46,685 29,252 23,595 A Panett esata ee Ry he & n ea a AOFFICIAL CENSUS—POPULATION BY COUNTIES IN 1910, 1900 anp 1890 tn lee betes Ao ee WEST VIRGINIA Continued WISCONSIN Continued COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 Calhoug.. .. «2 711,258 10,266 8,155 Forest 4.5. ¢iS.5 6,782 1,396 1,012 Clave 8S. ee 10,233 8,248 4,659 Gradh 5... cece 39,007 38,881 36,651 Doddridge ..... 12,672 13,689 12,183 Crees 2. ; sche 21,641 22,719 22,732 Fagette so. .dA% 51,903 31,987 20,542 Green Lake .... 15,491 15,797 15,163 4 Gifmmect ... 6c3.2 11,379 11,762 9,746 Tome i oi csi poke 22,497 23,114 22,117 > Grant’ ©... 2S? 7,838 7,275 6,802 Leet ios eee 8,306 G6.G16 = 35s... i Greenbrier ..... 24,833 20,683 18,034 Teelwon =. kia 17,075 17,466 15,797 : Hampshire 6... 11,694 11,806 11,419 CHeEPSON .. ec cs 34,306 34,789 33,530 : Haneack . . sks 10,465 6,693 6,414 uuest: 5... woke 19,569 20,629 17,121 re Hicie . Some 9,163 8,449 7,567 Kenoshe ...0oesa 32,929 21,707 15,581 ’ Harrison ...... 48,381 27,690 21,919 Kewaunee ..... 16,784 1212 16,153 ' VaelGan ... .o2,% 20,956 22,987 19,021 La Crosse ioc. 43,996 42,997 38,801 Jefferson ....... 15,889 15,935 15,553 Lafayette ...... 20,075 20,959 20,265 1 Kanawha ...... 81,457 54,696 42,756 Langlade... 505 18,675 13,433 6,459 Trempealeau ... 22,928 23,114 18,920 euler er. oss» ok 16,211 18.252 11,962 Wnenom .. oa 8 as 28.116 28.351 °5.111 EISMBEG 63+ +05 16,629 14696 12,714 Wise. , oh sete 6.019 0500. ciness BOE) eee us 24,081 23,619 18,652 Walworth ...... 29,614 29,259 27,860 MEOERT sages 9,680 8,862 4,783 Washburn ..... 8,196 5.521 2.926 Weivel .....2.: 23,855 22,880 16,841 Washington .... 23,784 23,589 22,751 WU esos gests 9,047 10,284 9,411 Waukesha ...... 37,100 35,229 338,270 A S600) 84,462, 2eaee Waupaca ....... 32,782 31,615 26,794 Wyoming ...... 10,392 8,380 6,247 Waushara ...... 18886 15.972 13,507 , 22 9 958,800 762,794 Winnebago ..... 62,116 58,225 50,097 ' Ba ees ees os whine! wea seen 30.583 25,865 18,127 WISCONSIN The State ..2,333,860 2,069,042 1,686,880 COUNTY 1910 1900 1890 . ; WYOMING AGRWS. 2.7. <5 8,604 9,141 6,889 INTY 910 1900 1890 Ashland (vs. a's 21.965 20,176 20,068 ae — ; Basins, >< eng ee 29,114 23,677 15,416 ie ee 11.574 13.084 8,865 : lavheld .. .ide. 15,087 . 14.982 7/390 ache ah 3'886 non. os f Brown e+ sere 54,098 46,359 39,168 Curee «nth 11,282 9,589 6,857 } Hdeala: <3 ice. 16,006 16,765 15,997 Cilearee . os) 3. 6,294 3,337 2,738 ’ Beuaeth: 5 on ps April. Derivation Olf......--. Arctic EAPO a Seep layh a gigevisis eremeeteeee Arms. How to Strengthen .. Arms. Movements I0T.... Arteries and Veins..... Artificial Ninnies.. eee seas Ae eae Artisans, Payments tO ...v:e.rcseseeerees rh ~~ ‘= Asparagus, Lo Cook Asparagus with Eggs. ’ 4 7 17 } M4 an ft Asphalt for Walks and FIOOSS......ccresserscrerers Assignees and Irustees....--.----rerereeee™ Assignments.. Assigninents, wie Toa Walls Association, Constitution for Li Association, Literary, Aster, The Athlete, A. Young. ..c0 Attendants at D P Attorney, Power of, to Contes August, Derivation 0? Avoid Debt....--++++++ ne Clow eemgn ence Azalea....cessers sca chekassets ee Grate dla ers:calete ce adeno ce 190 > mJ NO ao an me Cn Cn ON NS tin 4 HRP Ys Oo On - Legos keweene se eet ec ee es pre eR oe Sie cn Sa OE Pee keEE INDEX. PAGE Blair’s Rules for Style..........c0ses.sss.ssesasen eae © 484 | Blankets, To Cleat......... sessccecseesessse cee mann 260 Bleeding, To Stop....ss..cscece. osseeseasst sme ss eeeeeemanan 361 Blind Postman, Game Of..........00s:0+.0- <0 222 Blood to be kept Circulating...............5..sssssssemmam 188 Bloomers, Carnation.........scccccvcessscesevsssese tees 520 Blotters and Ink..,.......cccecscscsodecss=cacetsaene nn 463 Blue Jay, The........0.0. .csessuessoccennals ce: eet 530 Blue-stocking, The.........0.0:::¢se0ses0s¢sess ae 25 Board by the Week.........0.00.:-scscsensesee eset 57) Boarding-schools for Children..........+.ss+.0ssssseseuame 194 Board, Table Showing Rates of...........:sssesseseeeanmm 571 Bobolink, The. .........0c0.-cesesseoesseees soon eden 526 Body, the, How to Strengthen..........0.:sssssesse 308 BOOK KGEPING... ...c..02cs0esecseccecsee obverse: aan 373-406 Bookkeeper’s Application for Position...........ss000 402 Bookkeeping, Necessity for.............0.s 395 BAO, PAGE Oi ees inn eae ee ge ea enak ches fav ens bance see 257 Balance. PO; in BOOKKeC HIN Gir ik scseess ry car dec cdens 385 Balan COS MIAN: (coi csasec sete cscists cect cehvedestvsavevenevaece 396 Ball-roomi, Decorations Of... ; ....2<.ce.ceaceeesececese-eaes 48 Prats SEV CECH Gl Os: 5 252 ude terwet ives ddrhsanecerviasstaus 47 MAIS TMGIAtLOHS COlis.6s: ss ses 0254502 suows (aba ecwnsansseves 47 Ban keGnecks SHO Ofe.. sse.i side sdetentevevessbs iestontss 400 BAM KE IGDOSLIUS . c..2es coca veya rot eves ca vaderse tease tds arctan 399 AGEN Old ST tales. crete ae cued cher ots fe aseo sober caveat 552 BaSCa al eee ere anes ese say mae ec ves cue sid lass t tees ive 336-346 Base-Ball, Diagram? Of:Grounds ie. ois .c.iss , Qo ty 2 e io . . @aildings, HIghest...-.eesseeeeeeeeerserseerroneaces es cea lus » 548 Cha rity, ae m estic.... : MO RELCVC.....5..05..c..cccceceecceeeesseeesees 262 | Charles Dic EN Se ee Bushel, egal Weight of Beet. Chacon create Be nee eae : Pee OHO reer aeeessererirereresecsore a 1 A: i q o/t | Lfarie's story a the Fami ily Pledge 6 weeea }aws for Daily Use............... 27] iene < ees Busin ss Law ay ese usteaseces aT Charms, Feminine, Lost 3 " 371 - y PEMIMIME, LOSt.....sserrereeseeseeses SO ook 2 Business Lesson, A.......-+.+- Nias vives Nit cae ive tees bscces 542 | Cnattel Mortgages. eee OMB R ER ana ectteetre Scho uaelgcrasog ere ae 425 = | Chavasse, Dr., Treatise by............. 179 5 Pees oeooneeeseseves a | Cherry Brandy, to Make....... <3 | “ eed ‘ a : Cabbage, Ladies ec cn ccecsacue De cea eud de betens cece cece 2A5 | Cherries, to Presery BCIVC vock wees ee | 1€S, tO PLeS€rye.s.ssssesesecsceeesesetearsseseeenees 254 Cabbage, Steamed...............sseeseeeeeeeeeereeeeeeeeeeees 244 | Cherries, to Preserve in Bunches....... ae on osc caves eset seccne ccc cccecsccecscece B66) |. Cherry Wine. e: Spike outa aesaess 27 | Crickets, to Destroy......sssesscsseseeereeceeteeserscnesceres 257 Colors, How to Mix......... es ves esa etann eS see, 567 | Crochet...cccsecccecccserceetsssrsececenses ettenerersersscecseeas 197 Combe, George, Opinions of.........-. wits ee 142 | Crooked Stick, A..........sseseeee: es senseveseee UG -. iag Combs, to Clean......... ccccssaceseceessessesesceserececeeeeee 200 | Croquettes, Meat and Potato..........++-+ss0e _sasecuaae - 240 Commission ACCOUNL.......cccccscccccescreeeeees setts 396 | Cross-grained Natures......... suet ioe ‘eich ooseneeel . 149 Commission Merchant........csceccsscsscoeres Gsecivinaaye 394 | Cross Purposes, Game Of.........++++e0e8 onncatensseaee . 2a Pa mITMOG OLE NULE 522 .scn ss ae rcewnse vere. en sensors: ad st . 142 | Crumpets, English.........s.sceecseeeeeeecerteeeeeeseneeeees . 253 Committees........ aoe vo vn cock stetwebeatespecwes 450 | Cubic Measure.. .......-serseeeees ee 572 Communicating Ideas Peculiar to Man................ 18: | Currant Wine..........: iuicsadanpangt caemen — . 258 Complexion, the, to LMprove....ceseereerseeeereeeeeeeee 267 | Curtain Lectures.............-.+- és 5e6Uaesaneueaan ocsnessass eee Complimenis, Game Of.......ccccssesssercececeecessneeeens 21g | Curtaine “,ace, to Clean.........ssessecseseresecceeee eves 26F EGACISe Busiiess aw. ...-.-sccscsssevewerstecesen cons ween 371 Conduct, Vulgar in Bali-room............seseceeeeeeees: ee as Conflagration, Great............-sseee+ Aas Jacek cee seth 55O | WDaHlIGS.....cc.ccosconseveecevecscaseussus ovesececengesnacrs sma 521 Congratulations ............ Bae vdeves Severe ss i aicncieaty 42 | Dallias, Single... co..csecasenasesns: — ‘aversive: aan - 28 Congratulation, Letters of........-..... ee 96, 97 | Dahlias, Varieties Of..........-.-s-sesecsereeseeees canseueeay ~ Sat Conjugal Happiness, Basis Of......2.....seseeeeseseeeeeee 137 | Damages, Tenant’s.........+sccssesnsesessseesaea oosnancueale Consequences, Game Of.........-csee. seceecceesseesereres 217 DamMSOn Wi1NC....005sessncennvesseenenvetneenianee ee Consignments......... Yetta vedeeosews scab isPees See ralace Be 395 | Dancing, French Terms Used in............ oscsesensesnee Constitutions, Horms f0f..........-.0+06 See . 445 |, Daticing, Hints on.......0.ssssesesn<:paqnseeeeeee cossenseul eee GMSMA PEL VES. aca cones cecesenccessweeeredene enees Ep nts~. 4s . 144.| Dancing, Order of.........-se pecexss rare S49 Der Deutscher s Maxim. ....... ce scdeyees----.-.. 027 SPESHETE MOE DIMTCLS. 2. .20.0050.0.---ceceeeserecserese eres 50 Designs for HOuseS......-c:srsserecesssererssrneeeeeess .269-282 Dianthus ...........-. ec ipclisscere-ortperesers- 520 Differences of Age in Matevitig ae re des eccssn- 126 Differences, how Adjusted ............--.-02:00:::0 2-022) TIS Digestion of Various substances............++. Bh iccas 564 Dignity cannot be Assumed ............0.0-- Retest 23 Dining-room.,........-00- eae oe rae Ss Dinner, Announcing the............2...2-.0seeee Pant. 59 IE REIEGES AL... 2... 2-0cecee ecco rcececncereees seers OO framer, now to Give................ ee ei c.. oe eet Be Dinner Parties..... oo ee eS vane 55 Dinners, Gentlemen’s Dress for..........:-0-0-:+0-000 0 57 Dinners, Hints Concerning......-..-.-eseeesecerere rene + OS Dinners, [uvitations to.............. ese veckies: Dinners, Ladies’ Dress for............-sseersereereereees Dinners, Public...... ee ee is i 458 Discount and Interest ..............ssesceceseesvenceeseeeres 389 Discovery of Gold in Califormia..........+-:1eeesereer ee We: Disease, Germs of............ Re, ravers s voce Hee 286 Disease, Hereditary........ Foon ecweccectenceese 133 Diseased Persons. shouldthey Marry..........5- «+++ 142 Diseases, Contagious......... ee oeeccecussseesss 354 Dissimilarities, Physical..........-.+seereee See et 7 140 Dissimilarities which Improve Love........-+ pce 139 Dog and the Tramp, The..........--seseeesereree Se iesices 621 C0 ae ee Peccs.s 540 Dollar Saved Hach Day....... Be ais Be ti esccs: 543 Dollar, A, What it will Earn...... ee, eet Ase -s 543 Domestic Life, Treatise On..........sceceeseeeee re eeens I1I-282 Py UO PLCTUSLIECH..........-..20c0cccncesoscererscsrenceres 197 Doubtful Welcome, A..... Biles escee. ee 611 Bie rte OF A fter-date.....--0ccrc.coeccesesseconenes-re 307 to 1 oD ae nN rm Draft, Form of After eT; T o Dra inage, Badia 944 Dresses R: } ° Dresses, Bathing Dress Controlled by the Weather Dress for Church & Dress tor 1 Dress, General Obs aa ES ho Res Sedse dar sebsceetZoe Jrawnh-work, Hlegant | ork, Hlegatit) 4 ee acre | 6 UB PAGR Sescac estat ere 287 v”~ Coeeoreeresen08 -sight.... i Se eee oer esreecsecese 29 Call ess, Observations on: oe 26 Dressing-room..... Syeacasece cre fr SCT EIO once ioe ite wn Sore 4v Dress; -Mornitie..-...: 2) SPOTS SESH HE SER LOSES DO OESOSerEreESesese & peace} IVI ee to Cledht nce eae 260 Dress, Neatness in } PPTCSS yk CSS*1h i ves. Wie Gdiee. bbe slave ose enice ack ceatemerte 156 Wee tae tha Oners yreSs Tor toe Opera Spibaleis ma bs cles ioie dia win\ sce a 6 oe nie ureaioe 20 DOL Ane is ie cap one tease ee Woes, eae eee 9 T)rece Drennriet tk: é ress, -Eropnielhyokak.s er 26 Driety Olea ede ee ee = sae PN ce Pe Tee 5 oe lress for Public: Occasions ==... ee mies ees reac Nr< a aievtet ecia A oe Dress, Dr. Johnson’s Remark on Lady’s cate cae D SS Wal c1ng aie Sihis Sean ele Sali ake biech ular ace Ris biansions SIMO ihe iaie ite 2 YT) . a D naa A Drownitne, to Restore Personsi..teriet es 25 a: } { Pp J Ik Pie ; : 23 ea 4 ry WUCK pte wed pascae ry eovendnaesele Riis caneaes 223 ] l 1 »-Bells Pei ee 1iin Dwellings, ccalthy [ rs . an Gane Dyspeptic, a pour.... Ear Corn Measure.. Barl Early Rising Early Spring Earth, Air, Fi ire fond Earth Closets Earthquakes, Great Ease, Value of......... 1 ~ Coo, Economy, Domestic » Ecuador, Exports of. Education Soar tO EXCESS... . see ccecoe cers satenencsee sees i di uca tion, Mistake as J Tyntch Concert Cam of Dutch Concert, GaMe OF... ..0-ccsssererorncccrscnsssenasere 2 iio wewac Gbikosutes pr vas oeytes sce. saesetee y ANSE Titcanecee: Eau de Cologne, to M b 4 Ay eae ee The, Game ol.. EO cet eer reves secede HOS SOS HOPES OFOE sO Fs? e 5° se soepee er ete ee ee Water, Game Of.....--...-sse0es. 2 2 Se pees Bee ne eee a kes 25s Be a ee: vee 206 Sa eee Seed oe 2 ete eee age a 2a sak. eee tare nds HAG . : 560 sy sesnccavmenn ht (2 555 actors ACcCounts:.......: Soreiiersdee! Siiess cnsantiperniaet¢ 395 IPAM e COU tA ference ois Fs e)so sens, ioke enseaoei ise 606 Ppa Tae ee ccc he a adeuscaciel Phe cedse crtnes bee S57 ATC Mess INGLITO MG tec seks ied cen bh scaaed pen tas ends ce. 647 alling, to Prevent, in Children’, ..<.. Seno ed ceteen 188 Been ed | TE tee Stns eh on ep sive shah oso rosie'vees ceawion's I51 ati Stlers sic gies 200g cnt shves Binetoy (qa am tures 82 BanhilyVloLas Gi to be Guardedesce f8..0.. 50 ..5...2.. ee eee Re a Good Manners, Importance of................. Sc fees a Good ae Fruits of a Refined Nature........... s aoe Society ee Of 7 Ae ee caaetce ae Govkebery Jac Gee oJ 253 258 125 248 251 . 567 Grain, Shrinkage Of ce.cjh) oie eee ce ee 566 Grammar, General Principles Of. <.5..5.scmvsceueneen 479 Grape: Wile. <5 .sceas. peeecene ee cha woe sd oaks 258 Gravel:for Birdsici.<: nice ssvetessecentsae ree ee tee510 Great Britain, Exports Of -....c.ccti.ecc<- ciseeere tener 560 1 ec Set a ANioel al e Greatest City {Hthe: Worlds. ieee ee cesta 546 Greatest on, Barth oi) 5c. caseorunee eee epee 544 Great Wall of Chinas2.ca.:% Sdivc skates ue es eee 552 Greely Expedition... sccsssceeseseseeeeerseetteecesstees 552 Green Corn, 10 Cook......cc..0c65 + ccrcasenectenyhstas see teres 246 Green-eyed Monster......... See te a 176 sreenland, Exports Of...-.susccecerereenneceneecnconreeenees 56c Green Linnet, The......-cc ccc ncicasssievetreessensosceere §O2 Green Pea SOUDP......c.ccscnersncesersces: ijeceectarinsdioes 228 Green Peas, Stewed........seececescreoeeenes pe ee eae as 247 Greenwald, Miss Clara......ccsesecereersemersnres seeeeces 165 Gri fuled akes, Corn-me¢ Ae ceasdeutcte hon Se0a Seas tn eee CAP OOMISIMET oko cass nenSee | clew'ssvace ay «Seinen ores ns a neeemiears -gKER 64 Grouse, ROaSt.... +10 ccsessscsccnssncnsat ere are ston enenetaunvencects 238 Grumble Corner and Thanksgiving Street. 620 Guarantee ACCOUNDL....... cc ceereerer ree eeeeeeeee teaaepn segs 396 Guests, AUEGHEC Ing the...ccccccerecssecserssnrreereetceneens GT Guests, How to Enter taliaieginerecenn setae de tee cee oe 45 Guests, How fa Seat at Dimmer.....cesceseeseeeereceeseeee 459 Guests. Receiving thenl...i. <1: -sesce er 59 Gin, Largest..:--saa-o eee Sea AS Gy SENOS Benefit Of.......0--+--00 Eo exsuktencee? poe 257 Gy mnastics for Girls ......s:eesesenereeeers ~ibceuns sates 311-316 Gymnastics with Use of Chaitsiccccicsacsssesenee ert H & Hair, Every, has its SHAGOW ..ssscecccccrensoes eee Halibut, Boiled.......---ssrrrrereers ican ee 233 ae Halls, Largest.....sessssscsmsesscrccnseceee2et” ——_— " Perk aaa Na ARE ne SE Na RO oRee ee _— a ee en ell an nner an ———— as Pa wiv nr BYP Ax” f } y PAGE Hand-writing, How to Acquire Good.......-se.++00: 461 Hand-writing, Ladies’.....ssccscccsereseceerereceseneer tere 468 Harland, Marion ......ccccscccccseresecacnseecsesereeres Ewes 154 Eirishice BGO Eanes ewes eer vwgunvetun vducwensy us tencees duemenchone 24] Hash, Vegetable......ccsccsscssecesecrececrevcecserceesscesens 247 Haste Not! Rest Not !...........ceeees feud sued aca i. ate 00O Hay Measure. oe deeweaunde'ss Siscdasedmweceatee stately sesas 500 Plead “CHECSC2. seve ccwts nde dsinccowescnssande ts Heads of Eorerineie Salaries Of yisivexnderieere ace as 5 Header,’’ The, in Switming........ccsesececseseeeeees 3 Mealth, Plain Riles forsee cave sesnc.cvetedenstvacveceseesds 18 Health, Treatise O01. ods... sc ccedeckscoedosccsews seeded 283-364 Healthy Dwellings ........ Siri esccve dna Gseeecescenduseaes wioetiee Heart, The Organ of Blood Circulation .............+. 30 Helps for the Houseliold............s00+ ate easvinees 227-26 Hen-pecked Husbands............ J yecvotyeetl Settee 170 Hens, How to: Tale Care Ol) ..5.cesers castes tos deesawseghe 574 Hills in an Acre of Groune sivas Seaciw Ohea be woah 566 Hindoostan, Exports tS Of... geeks cvictwsi kee adieaeveo csc iee 560 Holland, Hxports Of... ccc vencsesocvessssenoceees sesycsed. 560 Holmes, Dri, Pithy Sayville Ofi.... sce: tees deecsavass- 300 Home and School, Useful Information for............ 461 MIS ADE COLA LH ONS aanec tes cves wis iweds saderencoueces dvauwsin 205 Home Occupationss:..cwesssscceess Home Pastimes and Amusements........ eyiks tee 26 PLO L1G; SUNSHINC 111 -.wccenecveevicevasndes Wocewsdsticouityast AGO POE Ounce Candied. tecstsisere sven tesvesiécecsocsensevened 2O5 PLOESE eB AG RADALS 0 lace este ceca eens icenacsabesecsevensasea’ ALO 4 COW W Peorses: How tor Cll AGES OF ccs. kcsieedewcdnsnsadcesne’ 5O5 PIOPSeS =F asteSe Sis.acssncses Eo iraan: cooceusdcbescemsscadsesencsessosspacde el 567 WUTOTORE LAD OS co). ni acennauinenadsnnavias : eaieveniaelale 568 56¢ Interrogation Marks......... ated bog ncddetanaseaueeeeel oak 473 FRITOCHCHONS 7, .ncsensesinte+ctdiensesergnye enn ove an Entroductions at Ball cs ..c.ccsesvoxes inpnante ncaa ane — Introductions, Indiscriminate......s:sc«sseuesou el Introduction, Letter Requesting..........0«s. onaeeud --. 403 Introductions, Responsibility for..............00. ocesannee IBVOUCORY ACOCOUNL..supessivsesssecteeeec es Invitation, Letters of........ sans aguante oases cn nee - oF Invitation, Notes of......... eee tebies sanenanesier ssl — Invitations, Wedding, Forms for.........csececseees 107-109 Invoice Book, The os nnaaaeee -- 470 Preland,: Fe xpOsea Of, .acscsauesuccors césedautiire SC Iron, Value of. SOC OOEOO ee OOH eee eee A SOPHOMORE HHESE TOE RHEE SOHO EME HSER OEH en, CREE +8 544 Italy, Exports of. eeeeceeeerveeer CCST HHH HTOO RSH eRe eee Hee ee ee eee eS 56c J PoP cn yeaien asd bessnsecqvatsenksphusis eee a tas cccenoseseyeiatn jackals. Story of .ccsiccss igsvbeddiek’ ‘inky cle are ss.gatensea uae oo a3 Jail- Binh, A ee oceccdccccecscunsswecnuacy eum 148 January, Derivation Of.........ssesesesnessseseeseeuy, an Japan, Exports of... ... japanese. Robin, THe issue yal avaeeal er sae Se v Java:Spatrow, The,..:.ccisceven cee ‘se chwokebaaeeune ~ 533 | -healousy to be Avortded....icsckue eee oo « 74 Jealousy, Cure for mee | Johnnie € TOP e ee POP eee ererrrrerecereeseeeseece eer eeete Jewelry, what to Weartecccceccc.csc0 5 ee oncedeocduue aan BGs in ctinn ws ncdckee aie cae COCR EHTS DOS Pe TOS eFE 25€ .vs Hes it ae ry se 5 INDEX. . . #138 PAGE 246 . ? 4 & fadgment, To Confess. ....--sesee : does GIS. | Tedger, ‘ThE.......misecsartscsiseedssopeniney des ppaiecatieacsle GOS July, Derivation ee linte see SOS ees Seeseseeecesr ores §59 J LS sto, =e » ye ee beeen xecns Ads 5 SOOSESOCOOSOD 2000088 OOOOH S OCOO? 6OG500600 4800000 185 egs yw to Cty e + CRO, Hoy W tO Wei TEN StHEN Si scecacas POOCSOA COG CROO%S0GC009 206 K : Lemon Drops, to Make Lemon Short- t-cake. e 220060608606 508 8006600080208 0888000995 266 Keeping Books, Methods MEE ciissccsecacmcncescsecss 37 Kid Boots, Ladies’, to Cleani.......seeseeresrerererereeee 25 2 2 #200 6S0O99 08065509860 898F60 80859 SSE SHOSEEER0 252 405 ° 405 etter to Contitry Merchant... <2... ccssce. eoces gta Ae T 4 LOA ette Acc >pting Goods...cecs. COPCOAEEOODOLLESO*COSLOE DELCO eg June, Derivation Pepe cap ccacceveneuvesocesscceces 559 Legs, ¢ rooked. | | | Kid Gloves, French Mode of SS i Kindergarten, THe.....sssesseeserrerrrsenrneneeeeseeeceeees Kindness, a Mark of PPE COING.cccvsscccceeosce. 31 Kindness to Children.......... eceadises Be eapetcee seus. --183 Letter Gee anhe InQuittesce,a:seswareesth essa eeenc L, Letter Demanding P Payment 24. pee 406 Let i ; 4 ee ane Visigcnsbecwses Spodeecereeceecveecesienusetuensee laos 7 . Kissing... De ine ee dancocceucceeceseese secccrecsesccsecescessssesss 39 setter of Introduc tion, What it Should Contain. fs 36 Kitchen, The Queen Be sacs ee sige ckuninus gee 757. | duetter, AcTovet'S.c..:.iscacsenecseavereer ee Knitting. .......cceccereseeerereeerereneteseeeesesereecarenesrsneeees 197 tter, Merchant’s, to St eee pe ee ee 402 Knives, to Cleati....-- ss. rescecsereeeeeeerertnseeersesoarseces 257 Le Letter Requestin f ing yay ee +. :Sdabee repeal ween etter, Store-keeper’s, Declin fon Coole wesese 404 uw Letters Accompanying Gifts.......0...sessesscoresseeLOQ-1OE LACE...sccccceeecececeecenecerrecsessesssrseeceeceeececeecseesessecees 200 Letters to Express C0. .nsscsscccesers Satie cdavoncoeesbepsotes Aly Lace Curtains, To Clean..............0.++++ i civchn 261 | Letters, Forms. for...;::sccs+.-aicsvisessratecmssssaedsnmgeneane’ Ladies, Attentions t0.......-..s++++esees Stee akan vevend ons c2 | Letters of Intro qation Sect ee «sii uusel Lady’s Chance of Matrying.......-2.-+0 Pico dedtee “2900348 23% t oe eeoesegre aE poup esecceeesece ococseeoe ree ecoecres sre 177 1 1: Tite fh oN Boe eccceuncsuecduste eseaecss ene sete i ockwoat (Le Jo Dees : Laws Governing Likes and Dislikes.......+:++-0+++++ . 136 Laws of Partnership.............-secesecesesreseerercceeeeers GIT i f Animals vpeereccesercecer I F aniGon yf Animals... .ccocsercer eversecrecseresse 4 cot BR Buil & 5 Tactect Byer Butit...cscc-ccerecessoccerers Dur has ] 553 4 2 Locomotive, Fastest Tawyer, the, Game of............. Be iivevseneass-rs 225 | Locomou Eee Ne ee Lease, Form for 429 | Locomotive, to Fina Horse Pov a 7* Dee iee wiewed soe =een ve Gesreeee bese ecceneereecossce : : Sie, 5 + . . > Hd 4 Size of caewmes oe esr evenenecccsese? soeseeseo a Lease, Form of Farm and Buildings.......++--++-++" 430 London, »! ver 204 j asse an gece ace e( ass see h esr ene ,@”~ BABE WY FILLET. 60. cccsevansccacccccscconeccccesceess i 47 | Looking y-G] s, to Clea feather, how to Make a uibees . 255 | Leaves, Phantom, how to Make.........-s++sseeeeeeee . 205 | Loreys, The..+-..+2+++9 ON NS tad Bee er Cr Loom O (Life. weGencospe>® ° ° e ° ° e e : ® ° ° ° ° : tn G& a : ; : : we \ Late cn eit ACCOUNT... cccerseserrer?® Led C 2 T and Gain ACC ger, losing, Be sicGicconseccas aide. soereeeucseseees © 398 OSS x { ed byUoO-e is = hedule of. es0c28te? 66 O79 999 797 9C% 293 scag and Gains, Scmedtie Of. Yer, Double- MOTLEY... csccervscrsecwccnseresessoeepesss” ee 383 Lossesee A td ae De Be hc eae don edlcnem ll eet Sariciashd Si enna Joe ini dins lle es deecrnan nt das tag aaa dered Manel mt me emo eee ee ee y 914 INDEX Love, Excessive Animal...... pusttieiss Weacaront-c da Greti@15.ccccve. sss .sseseeeseccessenctenws 247 WA CATOHL OOD Pires snc sve adic does) seed oust ae tee B26 Pied WS He eee s hieveceeen twine se deveedsivastevascuvigederse 534 Mackérel, Salt, Boiled. iisicccsiccssccsesseceeeees Sucked ote 234 IBID OSS se Pra 5022 255s Ssedaaie. sagrret se scoenesseeeesredinee 363 Msiden Missionary...... eas gerer cs sevisditetos seins O23 Manvdtomicte fOUr. LNG rics) esevecedersiescoveisssesse-c0 63 Manner, A Winning...... ovcecdvenss WelcyRuRsaesrlede GEO Rlaunermand Morals Alded iii. Jccciscestscceveesvess | I t4anners, Gracetul and Fe oes ar ‘Manners Make the: Mat *\vi.-00...... sauioeeeeds svautl 17 Manners, What Emerson eset Leslie s, est Mantles, To Clean......... Seeere ec re fie iis’ ver. UN ican OO Wap at Center OF Population /...c0ci0s..-.e.sciceseeneecse GIO RIG Mee OLS Hote. 16a ist civoselstecceedscccsccdvesecescsure BOS MCI sD CKIVATION OF: cis isccs050-cceessvesessceasceeeis coos 559 PRIA C errs oe eure teear teh s i cceeesisree des a Marriage Among Relusions.. SE itis ste tine GO Marages and Divorces; Game of...6.0i5......c0se0se00 2IQ Weathiaye; OPOMed sesh. Geena ne rn frie ELS Mariage, Treatise on.. TIT Man iage Vow........... Se Ace soencce. Gusto teres. ACTTO Mer imlawe: VOW # Seal E@Aiivi saves cencssees.s0t ae et ee prey Marrying, Chances of........ Ste cetereeerticesse 2s <4 cree Bileyiitoy ti Viena SUC iar ssc. ficicéccdiceeodeccese Sa ETS Bleiee NARUTO IS FUNC LOR wii eclicecevescveuctiovedecace E25 Matis, Best Sizes for... 5...02..5...008 Re en ora Matrimonial Ne CUS Pokies tua sgea tei ian caves ers TGA iii emesGonc DE eas itiaee Hates eis avo wipstsvcnsaace’ 559 Meaning of Busi BROT SOS Lo eae no ibavsat secvessecdev ee ace ieee S64 Reasure, Cubic....... Gs de devicd sea etat Vadeavedivss 5 Pleasure of Circles .........069 3 indebmchcanriwumscress SOF HOSS POEM Sait ssh idida vies eewecevelly *$O5 CAGE Mea sure, f Frar-Cormn.....0. sOOCCCOROOCCOH = O OA FDD THe -9Hm. ORS TOED 567 tS MEeastire, GLalih ...cceccseesseececscccceccseececsseccesccecseees 507 Measure, Hay.......ccscocesscnseveceeres ostsenccedcoseccen ss amma Measure, Land...... socuusecd eotuseveeceee ee sissocecesecererere 567 Measure of Globes.. Meer oes Surface or /Gauate «dent st. ae seater ee MEEASUEE,..SOLG.su-ssecesavconateeeence Sse cnee ee. sccccese SGM ee WO0d ec. scinsk ees peeled sesevdicds.saea - 566 Measuremen: of Cattle... ssc: sweccessdiseoun ia ive ee Meat, To Keep from Flies.............. odadkateaee wees Oa Meats, Roast........00 Seeeees ieeeote oesese sce dae tual .. 60 Medicine, Overdoses of....... waieeheaas aviseueeee onaoeeee os 354 Meetings, Castial........scssseoeses soccocscdebeecat ves: aaa «9 Melville, Engineer .......0..cescecerers sesccedetenonnaa ow IY4 Men Born of Mature Parents....cccc.cccssecaussseeemane oo 124 Men of the Feminine Gender .........sessseccavssesseuue «. I49 Men who ae Pot Lift sos cisecicescesasn ee eee savas O35 s that Harmonize. ...ccsce) vr 4 . r On ig (he Kocky Mountains 73262... O41 dy | 56 seie diss adie bac.ogrs sic names cate Fatenee eares 266 , Certal hould Combines.i2.24.c,,.008 146 O { | KO ss v5 Ava ksanbacecstest osepeeeeeeare 252 QO | 25 VV Sen h Ce 6b bib'e Wb ese 6 Ube 8 6.0 dunce ene teens Cee Rhe met caw ecad te 259 Oroeans. Respiratory. esi eee eee 206 tx ) O 377 d t bi eS oeiecioas besos Ace ee ee ee . 628 / i Oy RU VET ooo cca cae cag oie) on ) PAIN 4 4 2 CT ce ain ps iG OW Gia e OP diea nee emai a ister qiege ai crete 306 7 i MYPICUS ( .cccccceceee cd gees eis 235 UU 5 | 1in Butter ° 235 < | 3 TOTS oo eo eee bbé,4.00 06 0.00 0,0,66 00 6b 06 ee a0 6 unc. e C8ee 2 BUCittOLS c.ovoc.scansnsnatucses eon tss coubeteerececnedtgmiene 236 ) gi al e 230 () » bo. ice auueweev ees sie 2323 () _ ] St ) } UV sees Serer arere eer ssa. eevee eoeveere eseeoed 235 1 ¢ Oy CVCAT | cccssecctodsnenedace qhictienssnce-sareee ota 263 cA £2 i f ‘ He (nosen 06 . 7 { x inastikon, DESCFIPTION OL.....+..seeeeecensnececs 31g nastikon, German 317-326 { 2 i ) \ 5..C 320 hn HOt es ie ww ce conus Saewe Sey ce Shes 9 ORS Seo a oe ° 513 ; I I rol i CCT siete cic wiemas swe 45165 ¢ ero. 254 i p na ] ) G CCL. vice ccsscnvccoesccrees.s pete Uhre eat 100 TY j Cy 11 es 3 5 4 irak¢ LC ) Lil padeucs sacenescerse seus : e illel B H« LO 1 291 on " Au | € ne LD, ly L - A75 x: an Pa ] | I gE Se gy ee dpe 6 O00 0 C8. 0 8e.e CAPR S 124 Se SLi A er TAA Parents, V TLILLEG DY. cocscccccccccerserrens” « 144 _ ) 4 Cres ] KA Inrl i World oo ceecat (eed osesecuneseane’ ts 34/ I rK, 4a J Ek Y¥ U L 2 ] 702 Parson Kell) 9 1 Pip { ‘« 450 Parliiamenta sae S C7 WS gate Pe tees a en as ae era mip sid O06 aL 533 PATIOS «cc cvcinetssineseee (ti cgont ~y 3 4 rs ranhia Vell -Hea cigivieeucta (oats : 2 Parret, ihe Double yellow TLEBAe.-++ * JIS 5 ee Se : ae eg a f 4 aes Nk eSLite 4 =~ = ee ee Eke ae Pa Pe Os. ee, ts a tle Fan ca dee De dares tienda date taatiingeadia endl Od Sk Sac boll eR Meee ee I Y INDEX. PAGE Parrot, The Gray........+6. oe athens eos Ane ae oe 58 Parties, EVening...-..seeseeees Siti Sea eek ete fade 47 Partners Mutually Liable...........-2e+sseeees hee A12 Partner, Silents.....02..ccsesseeneoessenceeesoeresecereeerenens AI3 Partnership Agreements.........-sewseererserresrseees AI4, 415 Partnership, Dissolution GE ice 413 Partnership, Laws Of ....-.:ssssereersseeeeserereaeeeeeseesees 412 Partnerships, Special........-..sseesseeeeereeereceeeneesseee 413 Partridges, ROaSt.......ccsesersessssesseessestecseneeeesnres 238 Paste for Moulding......cseceeeeesereeeeereneseereecereeecnees 265 Pastimes for the Homme ......cecceeeeeeeeenensreeeeererereees 21i Patch-WOrk.....cccccecescscescccccesecenccscercesesescscreescees 197 Patience Taught by Nature.....-..----+:-0++ Seth int leet 625 Patterns for Embroidery........cescseseeeeeeeeereerenes 196-203 PRAISES oo iccnc once betan slab sce ccedters denen che acasbeentescee sivas © OO Pavement, Cost of Vanderbilt’s........sesseeeeeeeeeeeeen 544 Peas, Green, To Cook......cseseeeeeeeeeceeeeneeneeesenseess 247 Pea SOUP. ....ccrecescceccscenccseccenssceesenseseneceoensensorees 22 Pedals VHC ii5. Fic cag scree cceces cae teow ore swenn tee eevteeess 25 Pen PlouriShte si. ..icacs ocerss eee ee tess ees enes 466, 470, 476 Pen, How to Hold the...........seeeeeeeeeec ee eeeeeeeer tenes 465 Penmanship .........scccceecsecseeeceseeeeeeceeseessereeceecaes 462 Penny Saved, Penny Harned............sseseeeeeeeeee ees 155 Peppermint Drops, To Make............. pha Tee 265 JES ae oie Shbcel yey ey eee er ee ee ee 539 Perfumes, Moderation in Use Of...........csccseeseseeees 28 Periods of Digestion ............cscssesssseescesseereceveerees 563 EOS SS OE ce chnw ter cee ieee swiss e are bonepevecht nesses 473 Perseverance......:...5. By et ee en ee 178 ETSI, SEK POLIS IO he... caveces eee tche es cy asses enncncnscssene 560 Personal AS eCOUMES si ccgee di iecncss oes cece savaene ds cvee 385 Personal x pense ACCOMM: 202 .. 5. 6.c5.see\cscseceaces oes 392 Persons Polite and Impolite, Difference between... 20 PETS MS POR IGE OCU . coias aise ceciv oneness. cebs otecensss 34 RESUS Es aPC le oo oye oyne pew ewrens sale ewnwsnwywn ek easeecs 560 GIGS OMS FON iv suena tc. esen cect veivevecvucensviaseeves 456 Pets; Care andy Wanagement Of. 5.2 ......0.-ccesveoneee 526 Petulance Never JustiGable .......cceress.ccecesessceeestes 21 CCU AS 5 a ee ee hehe sca end cn ec eenescdderedevecess 512 PETC AG HINES © IROAG aye ae once usd cede eceu seeds idesvasetyeons 238 Priam ee et ei. as sseae tects eaves esessuctesn> 569 Primi Peele pita Ot NOE cs -skeck ccvenlendcnceldiavvscssvecdceaenes 229 WPA GSO fol Cal ACES os ees. yoo sac cieces bas cncndsseestacvers 555 ROLE ae PIN, MG et ca 2 ogo 2c4 vin. sina ec eden veudaccosecerses 556 DORON ELLE ate eas ian Vee sniv'ezawecesetackéarccubesdssses 208 Peg TEAS Pr ALAMITOS. J sp86het 2048s ces see cvs serecsenbonsece ses 295 Pate eek MCCUE i ee Aca Cee vase c da tbe \dois seaCroes scans 232 Rprecoten ese bite, GanmiecOl sc: i iveisancccesucesteesessee 226 PATIO AS OS oo Iii sot Ssiseviie jsdeessaes ce er ete, Ae PERE Ae es os aoc G cain Yo cou santa Sees saschidess te sie 535 ay eget OS Oli 5: nc once ts ss wees Peecesusencecdtecesae 295 at yee CUNT e PUT s.8t 4 oa Se Eka ok ss das écida ge nesdenthens 180 PACS mA Lead CMLUTC OL, csc cc cs éviic cs vedo cavese ccs 510 Pletsine® OCMers, Rules £0 sciiveceenisdvecssovecraasivans 20 Pleasure, Duty of Bestowing...... leer iene 1 | PAGE Pluck and Prayer.........++-++ sseeeseeceenerstesseceeesseeses 633 Plunge, the, in Swititing:....7.. eae ouetseeeeen wie 345 Plymouth Rock, History of............... oes ars ss ceeee «eo 552 Poetry, Art of Writing. .......---ss-ccscsseerresssnseesseuany 493 Poetry, Choice Selections Of. . . 6 fee Shrinkage Of Graim........ssecsssseessseeerserecrscesceceress 56¢ . Dianacant ack Sick Room Made Pleasant........-ceseeesereeeeee ap aed 35¢ ‘ 7 Ae Sic kness, Prevention Oliececcse-seees -scuatesteedeseectem ey Sick Persons, Rest for 35 4 Gr ‘ck, the, How to Nurse.......sseerrereee ss Sees ves Se W WwW Ob w igns Used in Busine Sight Draft, Fort Of.......++++++++- WA > Ooi On aw oO Silk, TO WaSh....1.0..ssecosenesconsenenereersts He ade wlaeattes 25 Silver-Ware, To Renew...-----sesssrsenrsrerseneere® isa 264 Silver Wedding, Form for In TItAtiON TO ..--eeceoreee 11@ Similarity, The Cardinal sate aad ses aa peapeteees 135 Simplicity, Attractive....-- aes gee geral aoeerae 34 Sincerity of Heart .....ccccerercceessrrere creer 4 Siskin, The......--sescsreveerseees See oe aes ; Skin, To Bez utify ca deinen ee ehundasaeeee sh eee te tans 532 Skylark, I SFr csi csctuarvagsansensasgeases esse 53 Sleep, Importance Of. .oeccceeeceovoarevves.?* AOD Ne See ea tS tn Ne ake Peli 5 les ee ie Fe Ln ake ce tae cerns a dai ain nc Pi aaa ae ne raed Be face bolls PET Sees Sea a A ees 718 INDEX. PAGE Sleeping Sentinel, The...... pore ES ee tees OA Se acres ek esac caccesecsegscerssasieas 86855 Gi all TH VELIONS. crcc ccs free ce cecereccyecreossennscescscrsss 4G SMOKING Vie... ess. Weds ose iene ol eehic ages eraaecs cite 40 Snake Poison....... eet es te goeted aeee Se ere ate 364 SHow-Drop. The .:.......... BARE oer Cc pacet ns ee Be eral. eer 517 Soap and Water..............6 Bete tese cose te. easatvas 352 Soap, Substitute for .......c. see eee eeeeee eee eete reenter eeeees 257 Soul and Body. ..1....52ss5:.... re Ser oi cae e nh ees 626 Sound: BACtS AS EO... 55.0. ccc ete te een cte ses ees cos sere etednee 558 SOU Soccer ne vese ce endese coset ons veweh rue cenees 227-232 Sorcerer behind the Screen, Game Of............ 2:00: 226 Ore Ce ences cee nde Secerorsette=lwetnes 245 Southey,Letter to, by Charles Lamb..-......-..-..e+e 95 Sovereigns of England, Last of.. 560 Spain, Exports Of ..........:ecceseeeeeeeseee eens tiie 560 SATIS EE WGOVEED Foccii assess egccuctseeseetnsscseesers vegeececs 26 Spelling, Rules for ......0... ces eeeeeceese renter eens Wr deies Ss 467 Split Res SOUP: .....-- PASO UE Ie een cs secon vatec waver ote 228 Sports, MEMeHC. 02.22. 2i.2..< sete eer reer 327-350 Sports for Girls..........cscesscseeeece ees eeeeeees essa eeeen eee 298 Sports, Manly.........-..+.-. Pec sonters weed: Re paced Pelee 296 Springfield Arsemal........-.d cece SPA i wadoes ue 610 Spring Vegetable Soup.......seeccseceeeceer eee teeaeeeenes 230 Squash, Winter, Baked..........-.sceesceessereeeseererens 247 Squash, Winter, Boiled....... re Pen re i OAF SGraples, to Keep Plies (Onis ric sci... cesssenenetectccns 564 Stammering, How to Cure.............. 186 Staritiy, OdIOUS.-.. 6.2. s.ceccce sees eee eee Hee vnigaisreees ares Statements of Accounts..........-ssssse0s. URE ERS. 385 Sree, ALUN OIG. csi caces sec b acne ses. si dese senses ss eee sees 552 Steam Hammer, Largest..........c.-ssosseseseeee 545 Siitey ELUSDAMGS. 22.2.2: svscoee ees cesesesecaeestereseenens ease Stitches in Needle-Work......... peed oleh 196 Stone Steps, to Cleans... ......ce reves ecseeeseereces once. 264 SUGHES, eECCIOUS eet i -c5isics-- ses . 27 POLE PUT Tes MC COMM ben ist. cuseetocceneeveett wtecceee’ 388 Store-keeper’s Letter to Merchant..............-..e0006. 403 Sie a MOOG! OL eisai te aiegis tcc seeece ns AS Stayer OPES PONUEMCE, 2... -natrse-vgrctnnse conven 74 SEM AME SESE 28. san aesncnec tener iscacesneeceockenveveedsavacs 483 Subjects for Discussion.................. Boe yoo 447 Sete Chit PLOPEILY «2... 0seiseds asnacssuney 427 SS MUG OLE PO WEL Ole. noc0c.tesssssscuseueentsterseseceeeee 435 ey se eels cs ca veccedaws cece scenuecs conte 246 Be CO AEIES, PELLETS. OL. <4 2, sacccceettewce eves essa 87, 95 SeTITMON Sy LO ODUM rscsvsecsse sees ecsese es: sdarsee stbier se MANO BONA TS TGS NU ISSIOU se sariassesssce-cbhosvectasserver-ssssierns OFS { i PAGE Sunday, Derivation of........ bevel eb ssa hp meee ees os occeas Sun’s. Dimensions, De... cvssiweswesenecseresseeeee wad SOS Sun, Facts about. the... .csc:ss0s01.s0ee2ensuisasns cee een 558 Sun’s Heat, THe .....ccs0scsrensoncovagecsvevs costae men 558 Sunshine, Value Of........00-ctessss+ongneeseedecee=) en . 353 Sunsttoke,. How. to. [reat ...sccctcnacne eee scceceseeseean 359 Supper at Receptions..........cececsrerscsecesscsscseneauae 52 Surface Measure. ....scsovrcvccessecdsasboneswesneness eae am - 572 Sweden, Exports Of .......00.s0scevesssseesveyesesa seaman 560 SW GCG POR... vceses cas wsoes ovesesecseecesecenanuae ete aetna 515 Sweet Potatoes, Baked.............ss:ssnseoasthnase eee 243 Swift, Saying Of.......0...sccsssccsctieeetsncntane oeenan 17 GWPEIITITIG' seca ecsensoreneccscnecce covdawveen sense am 346 Swimming on the Back...........0cessecsnsesssssnteema 349 Swimming, Great Feats of..........csecsscocseessseenne 347 Swimming, How Learned .........s.s«ssecsvbuecsuseeeame 348 Sie GNC StiLtUps. ..arcasaecccenas sveenadvedeNaskageune 317 Switzerland, Exports Of........cccssccsestsacsecssde senna 560 Synipathy, Letters of .......cisesseccvevcevasdshecreueae 97-100 Synonyms of the English Language.........-...s+see0s 574 T Table, Furtiishings fOors...:...-:.sses.sesssgerevas aees 57 Table Multiplication, Instantaneous .............+-+0 570 Tabie, Scratched or Defaced .....1.-.cs l NO y SOONG > GW Two Glasses, Co sgwcccet Guvccenssseetersscece 626 Walls. Damp, to DY coc -ccssstaretnvence | teeerensaesenaaenes 263 re 1 Si S LSC oe eco? 216 PYPC-WIIteTS....-.veceossereersereecerseenrens Serer eeereereereee . 5° \ , Cit ) Now Gifis hot ld 1 311-31 : > iS) ~ Ompire, Base-Ball............-+++. UNGersCOring.............e-seece-seenevesrerererccnseneerserers 47 Under-skirts, to aa. Pe ies oe. ,... 26 nderstanding, An Enlighten ak ae ~ United States, Exports Of.....-....--:ee-0-+-erereererseeree QUO ve — oe nON ee oo aa ee PPSTIPATTITICSS. ........200-scerces-ercoccracs pecenaeree 3 ae Unveiling Burns’ Statue......... Fs i nents i 607 | Weare Growing 0! 609 Webster, ence O17) jittie Women 140 MZ | Wedding ive S ioe 109 Vagabonds, The..... eer Fn nice, sda cn 1 oped ae 644 | Wedding ‘ ee ae BOE CLANS... 00c.ccccncsesce-nccceserecccossecscveres 543 | Weddin . 63 Vanderbilts, Wealth oOf..........-.--ssserceseeeeeeres ; . 543 Vanity, Many Controlled Dy.....ccecseesereereerreee .. 22 | Wedding tout MMIIGES, BrOiled..............--0sscncceccessorsoreerers _ 240 | WedneSday, Derivation Heep tae ae oe geo vceecenecstrcneesecssesoneee nis, 227 | Week-Days, D LIDDY O12 ene pe ame ae Vegetables, Yield of per Acre.......-eseeeecseeserenereees 566 | Wel Vegetation, Origin of..............csceesesreer ones Velocities of Various Bodies..........--+..-+ Venezuela, Exports Oo sega ced xeicearvenreeee 560 | Weight or Met ane» a eae ee — £67 Venison Steak, Broilad..........-..:ss-eeecerseeeeeereees .. 238 fo Hand Quanulty Ora , MetUenas...;.....+0. Le pasar s Re. tii edecsivessess 512 Vermicelli Soup............-. UTIL GG... ce, s:ccece. aren: ovcesenress: -s-serseersoeeec coanpresesesere seoeeee0et0aka de le Cale | { | ‘ : | | | ~ ee aa Cs Mh Suellen PhS 2 ua tae loc Doe Lk ieee ee ee (28 PAGE White WICe.-cccccescccsoandnccccccssccsssocssscccsoseccees peeves 540 White Rats...cccccsescccsccccsrcccssscsrsecncnsnncsaccnererenees 540 Who are Adapted to Fach Bik eee ee preter 121 Who are not Adapted to Hach Other.....-.seegeeeere 121 Wife, an Untidy......- Be cpusauauce nadusaesinedd Pueyes ani 151 Wife, How to Spoil.....sccccsserererererrrrrrrerssessrssrees 166 Wife, The Lazy.....-. Doo vigiv as vaiaeesndaSeugancntann ul tes 153 Wife, The Model..........scccseseseeceeneseeereneeeeees 153-162 Wife, Rights Of.....ccccscsecscseseeseeeerenserereneerecssrenes 440 Wild Beast Show, Game Of........cseesseeneeceereeeeerees 219 Wills and Testaments .....cccccsccsesecee cerereseeceressers 439 Wills, Executors Of.....sccsccesecceeseeeresceseeeeserseneeess 440 Will, General Forim Of.....csccsceceeceeeerenneserseees 441-444 Will, Weakness Of......eseeees poe Gi Guayseueneaccus iocneee 150 Wills, Witnesses t0.........ccccccceeee ceeeeenereeeeeseneeees 440 Wine, Currant, Grape, Gooseberry .....-.-- san acheh eas 258 Wine Stains, To Remove .........ceceeserereesereseseeeeees 257 Wine, Strawberry, Raspberry, Damson Cherry, Sloe, Rhubarb, Apple, Ginger, Orange....--.+++++ 259 Witticisms at the Expense of Others....---++-++++++++ 69 WE PyOS; PRCA. coc2.. once cnsconcnscnscnncovoseenessannomecsed 161 Writing and Printing, Abbreviations Used 111..<..<. 599 Woman, a Well-dressed............seseeerreceeenerrenersress 27 Woman, the Stylish ..............:cseseeeeeecnresteee eer see es 128 Boman, the World’s Prize.cccresesorceverneeses: seveeeeees 120 INDEX. Women, Married should Discountenance Coquetcy Women of Wax and WoO0d........:ssccssscusseyessssncueee 160 Wonders of the New World.......00.-ssessscaseasgeeeee 553 Wonders of the World. :...<00se+sesersssseeeesuaehesae ee 553 WO0d-Carvin’ ..cssccsccseccsccceseacreenescnumrinet ibeeuas .++2 209 WOO MeaSure.....cccocsececcncntscenseencsuhs auueeneeninannn 566 Wood, Value of for Fuel............: Veast, Unrivalled........cccccccoccsee cocccscsecscscsncesns sooo Ze Yellowstone Park..............csecscccccecccerecesscseescceses 547 Yellow, the most Trying Color.......cse-ecesssecesereees 28 Yield of Grains per ACTE€......c....ce-ereeeeesecereeserees . 566 Yorkshire Pudding ......c..cccssccccsarevesesesess ee 246 Young America, Miss....,...+--++0+- sadieeveees noesennial 163 Young Lady, ‘‘ Loud’’.... ieee Nae ies — Young, Poet, Quotati ou lroul. eveeseO Ses CeCe eve Coerer esse @Ne ae oe | i DP co i i i Biee en ee Pe im | ti ' ; ! | | : 3 | ' : : : ) | | ~ mn EEO GONG SEE OP ReaD PEP wey omnpnyien te wTie ‘| F.8 a ee Ly H & Se en teea hee Fd cee — i 7 : : | 3 y | eee me Se, Ce ee ee ee ea PP eh tet et PLEASE RETUR N TO ALDERMAN LIBR ARY DUEXX O02 S48 3283 oe c by a Ma - a} a | Pf SEPIT 9 N. 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