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Title: The Chautauquan, Vol. V, February 1885
Author: Literary, The Chautauquan, Circle, Scientific
Language: English
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                VOL. V.      FEBRUARY, 1885.      No. 5.

Officers of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle.

_President_, Lewis Miller, Akron, Ohio. _Chancellor_, J. H. Vincent,
D.D., New Haven, Conn. _Counselors_, The Rev. Lyman Abbott, D.D.;
the Rev. J. M. Gibson, D.D.; Bishop H. W. Warren, D.D.; Prof. W. C.
Wilkinson, D.D.; Edward Everett Hale. _Office Secretary_, Miss Kate
F. Kimball, Plainfield, N. J. _General Secretary_, Albert M. Martin,
Pittsburgh, Pa.


Transcriber’s Note: This table of contents of this periodical was
created for the HTML version to aid the reader.

    How English Differs From Other Languages                 247
    Sunday Readings
        [_February 1_]                                       250
        [_February 8_]                                       251
        [_February 15_]                                      251
        [_February 22_]                                      252
    Home Studies in Chemistry and Physics
        Chemistry of Fire.—Ancient Fancies                   252
    Temperance Teachings of Science: or, the Poison Problem
        Chapter V.—Prohibition                               255
    Studies in Kitchen Science and Art
        V. Tea, Coffee and Chocolate                         257
    Household Beverages                                      260
    Huxley on Science                                        261
    The Circle of the Sciences                               264
    The Poet’s Vision                                        267
    The Homelike House
        Chapter II.—The Family Parlor                        268
    National Aid to Education                                271
    The Parson’s Comforter                                   274
    The Smithsonian Institution                              275
    Geography of the Heavens for February                    279
    New Orleans                                              280
    The Upper Chautauqua                                     284
    Outline of Required Readings, February, 1885             285
    Programs for Local Circle Work                           286
    Local Circles                                            286
    The C. L. S. C. Classes                                  291
    Questions and Answers                                    293
    The Chautauqua University
        Can Language Be Taught By Correspondence?            295
    Editor’s Outlook                                         296
    Editor’s Note-Book                                       299
    C. L. S. C. Notes on Required Readings for February      301
    Notes on Required Readings in “The Chautauquan”          302
    Talk About Books                                         305
    Special Notes                                            306
    C. L. S. C. Graduates                                    306




It has occurred to me that some readers of THE CHAUTAUQUAN may have
been disappointed in these articles because in their judgment they have
been thus far not sufficiently “practical.” Many people, far too many,
desire chiefly to find some short, straight road to knowledge. They like
to have some man who is called an “authority” upon a certain subject
cut his knowledge up into small parcels or “chunks” of convenient size,
and arrange them with labels, alphabetically, in an article or a book,
so that they maybe referred to at need, and followed like a recipe for
making a pudding, and with as little thought. But there are no such
recipes for acquiring real knowledge. In this way an acquaintance with
facts may be made which, used blindly, may prove of some immediate
service, and may not. Nothing, however, learned in this perfunctory way
is worthy of the name of knowledge. For it is a barren process; it really
teaches nothing; it profits nothing; it does nothing for the education
of the person by whom it is adopted. Real knowledge comes only by a
thoughtful learning of the relations of facts. True as to all subjects,
this is eminently true as to language; because, language is eminently
a subject of relations. There is hardly a word that we use which has
not relations to other words, and other forms of speech; relations
historical, spiritual, almost moral; to set forth which in detail would
furnish occasion for a little essay. The mere learning to speak and to
write a language is only a matter of memory and practice; nothing more.
It is child’s work, and it is continually done, and is best done, by
children. A man may speak and write English, French, German or Latin
with unexceptionable correctness and fluency, and yet know no more about
that language than a well instructed parrot would which had been taught
to use all the words which he uses. His study would not be a study of
language; and in that which he had painfully learned he might be easily
and unconsciously surpassed by a child who had never studied at all. Now
what I hope to do here is to help my readers to some knowledge of the
English language, in so far as my own imperfect acquaintance with my
mother tongue and its literature will enable me to do so.

We have seen what English is, of what stuff it is made, how it came
by its present compositeness of substance; how it became strong, and
full, and flexible, and fervent; let us now look a little into its
structure, _i. e._, the way in which it is put together, in doing which
we shall see by comparison how it differs from other languages. This
matter of structure, the formation of the sentence, is the distinctive
trait of a language. Mere words are not the essential difference between
languages. Many words are common (with slight phonetic variation) to all
the languages of the Aryan or Indo-European stock, as we have already
seen. Multitudes of words have been adopted into all the modern tongues
from other languages ancient and modern, dead and living, as most of
the readers of THE CHAUTAUQUAN know. The bulk of English dictionaries
like Webster’s and Worcester’s is composed of words which are of Latin,
Greek, French or Italian origin, and which indeed are essentially the
same words in all these languages; their unlikeness being merely a
phonetic variation, mostly caused by difference in pronunciation, or
change in termination. For example, _flower_ is in Latin _flos_ (genitive
_floris_), in Italian _fiore_, in French _fleur_, in Spanish _flor_;
each language having somewhat changed the sound of the word, according
to rules or habits which are loosely called laws; but the word is in
all essentially the same. A sentence—many sentences—might be written
in English, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish and German, in which all
the words of subject-matter (all but verbs like _have_ and _be_, and
prepositions and conjunctions) should be essentially the same, and so
like that an intelligent person with some faculty for language, and who
understood any one of these languages, could apprehend the meaning of
any one of the supposed sentences with little difficulty. And yet the
sentences would be respectively English, Latin, French, and so forth. Why
and how? It is to the reason of this, that is the why and the how of it,
that we shall now give a little time and attention.

The most important and significant distinction between languages is
in their grammar; that is, in the structure of the sentence. In the
languages mentioned above the greatest unlikeness in this respect is
manifested in English, Latin and German, or to name them in their
order of grammatical importance, Latin, German and English. The term
“grammar” has two senses; one large and vague, and called by some
“philosophical” or “scientific” (phrases commonly used with a deplorable
union of pretension and looseness), which includes all that relates to
the history, the substance and the structure of a language; the other
much narrower and simpler; the sense implied when the phrases “good
grammar” and “bad grammar” are used. To this sense I shall here confine
myself, and shall here repeat a definition of grammar which I have given

Grammar concerns the forms of words and their dependent relations in the

To illustrate this: It is “bad grammar,” ludicrously, monstrously bad
grammar, to say in Latin, _Nos habeo bonus mater_, and yet these Latin
words, literally and simply translated in their order, mean, We have a
good mother, which in English is perfectly “good grammar.” In the Latin
(to call it Latin) every word is wrong; in English every word is right.
The reason of this is that in Latin words change their forms according
to their relations, not according to their essential meaning. _Habeo_
means have; but it can not be used to express a plural having; that
requires for _we_ (_nos_) the form _habemus_. _Bonus_ means good; but it
can not be used to express the goodness of a feminine object, for which
the form _bona_ is required. Yet further: Even _bona_ can not be used
to qualify a noun which is the object of a verb, or, as we say, in the
objective (or accusative) case, for which the form _bonam_ is required.
_Mater_ means mother, but as the object of the verb _have_, _mater_ must
change its form to _matrem_. By these required changes of form the Latin
sentence becomes, _Nos habemus bonam matrem_, which is “good grammar,”
although poor Latin, but which, after all the changes, means simply, We
have a good mother; nothing more nor less. Yet further: The sentence,
as written above, although grammatical, is poor Latin because it is at
variance with the habit, or as it is sometimes called the spirit, or even
the genius, of the Latin language. In Latin the word _habemus_ (although
like _habeo_ it means simply, have) is so positively and distinctively
limited in use to the first person plural that the pronoun _nos_—we—is
quite superfluous, and is never used unless with an emphatic purpose;
_habemus_, without the _nos_, means, we have. Moreover it was the Latin
habit of speech to place the object generally before the verb; and good
Latin for, We have a good mother would be, _bonam matrem habemus_—_i.
e._, A good mother we have, or rather (literally) Good mother we have for
the Latin strangely has no articles, or none which correspond to our _an_
(_or a_) and _the_, and which may be translated by them.

This illustration, brief and simple although it be, is sufficient, I
think, to make the great and essential distinction between English and
Latin, and measurably between English and all other modern civilized
tongues, clear to the readers of these articles. The essential difference
is not one of words but of the construction of the sentence. In Latin and
other languages that construction depends not upon the thought and the
meaning of the words, but upon the forms of the words—their inflections.
Now the distinctive trait of English is that it is a language without
inflections—not absolutely so, but so to all intents and purposes; and,
being without inflections, it is therefore without grammar, which, as we
have seen, concerns the forms of words and their dependent relations in
the sentence. _Nos habeo bonus mater_ is bad grammar because the forms
of the words are incorrect according to the usage of the Latin language.
_Bonus_ means good; but for the expression of the quality good in its
barest, simplest idea _bonus_ takes on five forms in Latin; _bonus_
for masculine goodness in the singular, _bona_ for feminine singular,
_bonum_ for neuter singular; _boni_ masculine plural; _bonæ_ feminine
plural, _bona_ neuter plural. To be brief; for use in various relations,
this word _bonus_ takes on no less than thirteen forms, of which more
need not here be given. _Mater_—mother—takes on eight of these forms
or inflections, which are called cases. But in English _good_ has but
one form. Singular, plural, masculine, feminine, neuter, nominative,
possessive, dative, objective, vocative—in whichever of these senses the
word which it qualifies is used it has but one form—_good_. Thus it is
with all English adjectives, and with articles (_an_ and _the_) which
are a kind of adjective. In all other languages adjectives and articles
have various forms adapted to the various numbers, genders, and cases of
nouns. In English nouns have two cases (strictly but one, the nominative
not being a true case), the second of which is the possessive: _e. g._,
mother’s; and they have a singular and a plural form, _e. g._, _mother_,

In other languages the verb is inflected into a multitude of forms,
expressive of voice (active and passive), person, number and time of
action. In English the variations of form in the verb are very few. There
is no passive voice. The English has but one passive verb; the obsolete
_hight_, which means, is called. As to time, there are only the forms
of present and perfect, e. g., _love_ and _loved_; as to person and
number, inflections only in the present tense, e. g., _love_, _lovest_,
_loves_; and of these one, _lovest_, is obsolete, or very obsolescent.
To these inflected forms there is to be added only the present or
indefinite participle _loving_. Beyond this there are in English, by
way of inflection, only the cases of the pronouns, e. g., _he_, _his_,
_him_, _who_, _whose_, _whom_, _etc._ And it is here to be remarked that
almost all the questions of “good grammar” and “bad grammar” that arise
in English relate to the use of pronouns. (For surely we may leave out
of consideration here the difficulties of those who say _I see_ or _I
seen him_, for _I saw him_, or _I have went_ for _I have gone_, and the
like.) Here, therefore, we have set forth, although very succinctly, the
distinctive grammatical position of the English language.

That position is briefly this: In English words have (with the few
exceptions mentioned above) but one form; and as grammar is concerned
only with the formal relations of words in the sentence, English has no
grammar. Among languages it is the grammarless tongue.

Let us further illustrate this point by a brief consideration of a
subject which is very perplexing to the learners of a foreign language,
and which is not less so to the historical students of language in
general; a subject which, I believe, has never been explained by the
latter with any semblance of satisfaction—gender. All other languages are
infested with gender; in English there is no such distinction in words
as that of gender. English, it should be needless to say, has words to
express difference of sex; that no language can fail to do, for failing
in that, it would not communicate the facts and thoughts of every-day
life. But grammatical gender has no relation to sex, no relation to the
essential characteristics of things. Gender, grammatical gender, is an
attribute of _words_. He creatures are male, she creatures female, and
the words which are their names are generally (but not universally)
masculine and feminine in all languages. Things neither male nor female
are neuter, which means merely, neither. But this is not gender. Gender,
as I have said before, is an attribute of words; of words only. For
example, the Latin word _penna_—a pen, or quill, is feminine; in French
the word _table_—table, is also feminine. It is needless to say that
there is no question as to the sex of a pen, or of a table; nor is
there any quality in either of those objects which has a sexual trait
or characteristic. In each case it is the word which is of the feminine
gender; and in all, or almost all, languages but English all or almost
all words are afflicted with this mysterious pest of gender. How annoying
and perplexing it is, and how it complicates the use of language, and
makes the acquisition of foreign languages difficult, no student needs
be told. For it creates an ever present and far-reaching perplexity. It
dominates the construction of the sentence and binds it up in bonds
of iron. For every adjective, and in French and other languages having
articles, every article which is applied to a noun must be of the gender
of that noun. You can not say in Latin _bonus penna_, a good pen, without
“bad grammar,” you must say _bona penna_. You can not say in French _un
mauvais table_, a bad table, but must say _une mauvaise table_; nor _le
table_, but _la table_—although both mean the table, nothing more nor
less. The absurdity of this is made very apparent when a feminine word
is applied to a male object. Thus _majesté_—majesty, is feminine; but
when a king is called your majesty, the words _sa majesté_ (her majesty)
are used because the _word majesty_ is feminine; and instead of saying
he (_il_) did thus or so, we must say she (_elle_) did it, although the
she was a man; the reason being that the word _majesté_ is feminine.[1]
All this has been swept clean away in English, in which language there
is no distinction of gender but only that of sex: male creatures, or
those so personified, are masculine, female, feminine; those which have
no sex are neuter; and there an end. English is eminently a language
of common sense; and one marked evidence of this trait is its freeing
itself entirely from the nuisance of grammatical gender along with other
grammatical trammels.[2]

It has _freed_ itself from those trammels; for at one time it was
hampered by them sorely. Anglo-Saxon, or Old English, was an inflected
speech, and was tied up in the bonds of gender and other grievous
grammatical tetherings. This was long ago; but it was after Britain had
become England, or Engle-land, the land of the English people and of
English speech. When our English forefathers were little better than
semi-savages, bloody, barbarous, heathen, worshiping Thor and Woden, and
in a state of benighted ignorance of which it would be difficult for
those of my readers who have not tried to pierce the darkness of that
historical past to form even an approximate notion—at this time, and in
this social and intellectual condition of the speakers of the English
language, it was copiously provided with grammar. Even Greek had not much
the better of it in this respect. It had not only forms for person and
number, but gender forms, and cases galore.[3] Take, for example, a word
which was English a thousand years ago, just as it is to-day, _man_. This
simple word has undergone no change in all the thousand years, unless
by losing a little breadth of sound; it having probably been pronounced
_mahn_, of which sound the rustic _mon_ of provincial England is a relic
and representative. But _man_ could not be used pure and simple, under
all circumstances and in all cases, in the English of that day any more
than, as we have seen, _mater_ and _bonus_ could be so used in Latin.
There was the nominative singular—_man_, simply; the genitive _mannes_—of
a man; the dative _men_, to or for a man; accusative _mannan_—a man
objectively; nominative plural _men_; genitive _manna_—of men, or men’s;
and a dative _mannum_—to or for men.

Of all these various forms or cases of _man_, the language has freed
itself, excepting the genitive singular, _mannes_, and the nominative
plural, _men_. These have been retained, not by accident, or neglect, but
at the dictate of common sense, because convenience and intelligibility
required their use. It was found necessary to distinguish the plural
from the singular; and the genitive or possessive idea from the simple
and absolute; but _man_ as a dative or accusative singular, and _men_ as
the same in the plural, were found quite as useful and convenient as the
old inflected forms; and therefore (or therefore finally and in a great
measure) the latter were discarded. The genitive or possessive has been
retained; but it has slightly changed its form; by contraction only,
however; _mannes_ has become _man’s_. The old sign of the possessive was
_es_; and it is this, and not the pronoun _his_ (as once was supposed)
that is represented in our possessive case, in which the apostrophe
merely marks the elision of the old _e_. There is really no good reason
for the use of the apostrophe, none which would not apply equally to many
other cases in which no elision is marked. In the Elizabethan era it was
not used, and with no consequent confusion. Mans folly, the boys hat,
Johns coat, are as clear in meaning as they would be with the apostrophe;
and the possible confusion of the possessive with the plural, as in that
fancy of the girls, and that fancy of the girl’s is so remote and so very
unlikely as to be worthy of little consideration.

As to English in its earliest form (Anglo-Saxon) suffice it here to say
in this regard that it was so largely an inflected language, that is, it
varied the forms of its words so numerously to express time of action,
mode of action, person, number, case, and gender, that it is in this
respect almost as unlike modern English as Greek is, and is little less
difficult of acquirement to the English speaking student of to-day than
Latin. Its very articles had gender forms as well as case forms; and,
moreover, like the Mæso-Gothic and like the Greek it had preserved the
old dual number (for the expression of a plural of two) although only in
the personal pronoun. A comparative examination of the pronoun of the
first person and of the present tense of the verb _to have_ in their
ancient and modern forms will show the mode and the reason of the changes
by which English has assumed its present character.


  SINGULAR.                    DUAL.                     PLURAL.

  N. _ic_, I.                 _wit_, us two.            _we_, we.

  G. _min_, of me.            _uncer_, of us two.       _ure_, of us.

  D. _me_, to, for, with me.  _unc_, to or for us two.  _us_, to, for,
                                                         with us.

  A. _me_, me (objectively).  _unc_, us two.            _us_, us.

The dual form has been swept away entirely as needless, and worse,
cumbrous and perplexing; but it will be seen that we have retained every
one of the other forms. _Ic_ has become I; _mine_ is still the possessive
of I; _me_ is still not only the objective form of the first person, but
the dative, “make me a hat,” or “buy me a horse,” being merely “make a
hat to or for me,” or “buy to or for me a horse.” _We_ and _us_ will be
recognized at sight, and _ure_ has only changed its pronunciation from
_oor_ to _our_. These forms have been retained in our modern English
partly because a pronoun is the most ancient of indestructible parts of
speech,[B] but chiefly because of their usefulness, their convenience. A
brief consideration of them by the intelligent reader will make this so
plain that more need not be said on the subject.

Now let us see the unlike fate of the verb _to have_. This will be more
readily apparent if we look at it in Latin, in French, and in English (it
is actually the same word in all these languages, with slight phonetic
variation); and we shall thus also have another demonstration of the
manner in which English differs from other languages.

               SINGULAR.                          PLURAL.

  Latin.       French.   English.     Latin.      French.       English.

  1. _habeo._  _J’ai._   I have.     _habemus._  _nous avons._  we have.

  2. _habes._  _tu as._  thou hast.  _habetis._  _vous avez._   you have.

  3. _habet._  _il a._   he has.     _habent._   _ils ont._     they have.

It will be seen at once that the Latin and the French have each a special
plural form, and also three forms for the three persons of that number.
English has swept away this plural form entirely, and uses for the plural
in all its persons the simple _have_ of the first person singular. The
form of the second person singular has also virtually disappeared; the
simple _have_ appearing in its substitute, _you have_. Whether the form
of the third person singular will ever follow the other is doubtful;
but it is certain that our language has lost nothing in clearness, and
has gained much in simplicity by the doing away with all the formal
superfluity by which the old numbers and persons were distinguished.

This simplification of the forms of words is not absolutely confined
to the English language. It appears to be a tendency of language; a
modern tendency, using modern in its widest sense. For this movement
toward simplification appears in the Latin, in the Romance tongues
formed from it, and in the Gothic languages. In none, however, does this
simplification, this destruction of superfluous forms, approach, even
remotely, that which has taken place in English. So different, indeed,
are the results, that the process seems, if not of another kind, at least
as having another motive. For example, all the other languages retain the
absurdity of gender. In this respect German is no better than French. And
let me here remark that the common notion that English and German are
most alike of all modern languages, and most nearly akin, is altogether
wrong. On the contrary, English and German are very unlike; the most
unlike of all the Gothic (or Teutonic) languages. English and French have
much greater likeness, both in substance and in structure. There are
more words now common to the English language and to the French than to
English and German; and the syntax of the French language is very much
more like that of the English, than German syntax is. A French sentence
literally translated in the French order of the words is, in most cases,
so like an English sentence that it requires little change to be correct
English, while a similar translation of a German sentence produces an
effect both harsh and ludicrous.

The simple form of the English language is the result of two causes.
Of these the first in order of time was the conflict and subsequent
mingling of the Old English (Anglo-Saxon) and the Norman-French. When two
languages are thus brought together and are both spoken by two peoples,
all that is superfluous in the words of each soon begins to disappear.
Each people grasps only the essential in the foreign words which it is
obliged to use; each soon adopts the curtailed form of its speech used
by the neighbors of another race and speech with whom it is obliged to
live in daily communication; and ere long a composite speech of simpler
forms takes the place of two tongues—each of which was more complex in
structure, but less rich and varied in substance. By this process, out of
Anglo-Saxon and Norman-French, came modern English. But not only thus.
Other languages have mingled, but never before with such a result. Never
was there in any other amalgamation, such an esurience of superfluous
form; a devouring which has to all intents and purposes made English
a language of one-formed words, and therefore a language practically
without formal grammar. In this characteristic is its strength; from
this comes its flexibility, its adaptation to all the needs of man, the
highest and the lowest. Hence it is eminently the language of common
sense as well as of the highest flights of poetry. The English mind saw
that it was not necessary to have two words to express possession in the
singular and in the plural; that _good_ as clearly expressed the goodness
of a woman as of a man, and that of a dozen men as well as that of one;
that pens and tables needed no distinction of gender in their names; in
fact that nothing was gained, and that much was lost by these grammatical
excrescences; and therefore they were done away with very thoroughly,
almost entirely. The process was pretty well completed some three hundred
years or more ago; since when no noteworthy changes in this respect
have taken place. But it is still going on, although so slowly as to be
perceptible only on close examination. All the little specks of grammar
that English has are mostly to be found in the pronouns, as I have before
remarked. In the use of one of these a change is very gradually taking
place. _Whom_ has begun to disappear, began, indeed, a long time ago; but
of late is fading somewhat more perceptibly. For example: all speakers of
good English say, The man whom I saw, not The man who I saw; _whom_ being
the objective form of _who_.

But now-a-days not one person in a hundred of the best bred and best
educated speakers of English asks, Whom did you see? but, _Who_ did you
see? Indeed, the latter form of the question may be regarded almost as
accepted English. Yet in the latter phrase, as in the former, the pronoun
is the object of the verb _see_, and should strictly have the objective
form. But, Whom did you see? would now sound very formal and precise,
almost priggish, like _gotten_ instead of _got_. When, however, the
pronoun is brought in direct contact with the verb, as in the phrase, The
man whom I saw, we shrink from insult to the little semblance of grammar
that our language possesses, and give the word its objective form. The
time will probably come, although it may be remote, when _whom_ will have
altogether disappeared. As to _gotten_, its use is now so confined to the
over-precise in this country as to make it almost an Americanism. Its
disappearance from our language in England is also one of the evidences
of the process of simplification which is still slowly going on. Another,
which has taken place within the memory of the elder living generation,
is the disappearance of the subjunctive mood, which is now obsolete, or
so very obsolescent as to be met with very rarely. But thirty-five or
forty years since correct writers used this mood, and wrote, for example,
_if he go_ instead of _if he goes_. Of the effect of this grammarless
condition of the English language we may see something in a subsequent


[A] “Every Day English,” chapter xvii.

[B] Certain uneasy manipulators of speech have lately set
themselves at making an impersonal English pronoun. Vanity of vanities!
Make a pronoun? As well undertake to build a pyramid. Better. There is
not a pronoun in use that was not hoary with age before the first stone
of Keops was laid.



[_February 1._]

I find David making a syllogism, in mood and figure, two propositions he

    (Ps. lxvi) 18. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will
    not hear me.

    19. But verily God hath heard me, he hath attended to the voice
    of my prayer.

Now I expected that David should have concluded thus:

    Therefore I regard not wickedness in my heart.

But far otherwise he concludes:

    20. Blessed be God, who hath not turned away my prayer, nor his
    mercy from me.

Thus David hath deceived, but not wronged me. I looked that he should
have clapped the crown on his own, and he puts it on God’s head. I will
learn this excellent logic, for I like David’s better than Aristotle’s
syllogisms, that, whatsoever the premises be, I make God’s glory the

       *       *       *       *       *

Young King Jehoash had only a lease of piety, and not for his own, but
his uncle’s life (2 Kings xii:2): He did that which was right in the
sight of the Lord all his days, wherein Jehoiada the priest instructed

Jehu was good in the midst of his life, and a zealous reformer to the
utter abolishing of Baal out of Israel, but in his old age (2 Kings x:31)
he returned to the politic sins of Jeroboam, worshiping the calves in Dan
and Bethel.

Manasseh was bad in the beginning and middle of his life, filling
Jerusalem with idolatry; only toward the end thereof, when carried into a
strange land, he came home to himself and destroyed the profane altars he
had erected.

These three put together make one perfect servant of God. Take the
morning and rise with Jehoash, the noon and shine with Jehu, the night
and set with Manasseh. Begin with youth-Jehoash, continue with man-Jehu,
conclude with old-man-Manasseh, and all put together will spell one good
Christian, yea, one good, perfect performer.

Constantly pray to God, that in his due time he would speak peace to
thee.… Prayers negligently performed draw a curse, but not prayers weakly
performed. The former is when one can do better, and will not; the latter
is when one would do better, but, alas! he can not.…

Be diligent in reading the word of God, wherein all comfort is
contained.… Thou hast a great journey to go, a wounded conscience has
far to travel to find comfort (and though weary shall be welcome at his
journey’s end), and therefore must feed on God’s word, even against his
own dull disposition, and shall afterward reap benefit thereby.…

Be industrious in thy calling; I press this the more because some
erroneously conceive that a wounded conscience cancels all indentures of
service, and gives them (during their affliction) a dispensation to be

Let none in like manner pretend that (during the agony of a wounded
conscience) they are to have no other employment than to sit moping,
to brood over their melancholy, or else only to attend their devotion;
whereas a good way to divert or assuage their pain within is to take
pains without in their vocation. I am confident, that happy minute which
shall put a period to thy misery shall not find thee idle, but employed,
as some ever secret good is accruing to such who are diligent in their

[_February 8._]

The Deity is intended to be the everlasting field of the human intellect,
as well as the everlasting object of the human heart, the everlasting
portion of all holy and happy minds, who are destined to spend a blissful
but ever active eternity in the contemplation of his glory.… He will
forever remain “the unknown God.” We shall ever be conscious that we
know little compared with what remains to be known of him; that our most
rapturous and lofty songs fall infinitely short of his excellence. If we
stretch our powers to the uttermost, we shall never exhaust his praise,
never render him adequate honor, never discharge the full amount of claim
which he possesses upon our veneration, obedience, and gratitude. When
we have loved him with the greatest favor, our love will still be cold
compared with his title to our devoted attachment. This will render him
the continual source of fresh delight to all eternity. His perfection
will be an abyss never to be fathomed; there will be depths in his
excellence which we shall never be able to penetrate. We shall delight in
losing ourselves in his infinity. An unbounded prospect will be extended
before us; looking forward through the vista of interminable ages we
shall find a blissful occupation for our faculties, which can never end;
while those faculties will retain their vigor unimpaired, flourish in the
bloom of perpetual youth, … and the full consciousness remain that the
Being whom we contemplate can never be found out to perfection … that
he may always add to the impression of what we know, by throwing a veil
of indefinite obscurity over his character. The shades in which he will
forever conceal himself will have the same tendency to excite our adoring
wonder as the effulgence of his glory; the depths in which he will
retire from our view, the recesses of his wisdom and power as the open
paths of his manifestation. Were we capable of comprehending the Deity,
devotion would not be the sublimest employment to which we can attain.
In the contemplation of such a Being we are in no danger of going beyond
our subject; we are conversing with an infinite object, … in the depths
of whose essence and purposes we are forever lost. This will probably
give all the emotions of freshness and astonishment to the raptures of
beatific vision, and add a delightful zest to the devotions of eternity.
This will enable the Divine Being to pour in continually fresh accessions
of light; to unfold new views of his character, disclose new parts of
his perfection, open new mansions of himself, in which the mind will
have ample room to expatiate. Thus shall we learn, to eternity, that, so
far from exhausting his infinite fullness, there still remain infinite
recesses in his nature unexplored—scenes in his counsels never brought
before the view of his creatures; that we know but “parts of his ways;”
and that instead of exhausting our theme, we are not even approaching
nearer to the comprehension of the Eternal All. It is the mysteriousness
of God, the inscrutability of his essence, the shade in which he is
invested, that will excite those peculiar emotions which nothing but
transcendent perfection and unspeakable grandeur can inspire.—_Robert

[_February 15._]

We need not go far to seek the materials for an acceptable offering; they
lie all around us in the work of our callings, in the little calls which
divine Providence daily makes to us, in the little crosses which God
requires us to take up, nay, in our very recreations. The great point is
to have the mind set upon seeing and seeking in all things the service of
Christ and the glory of God, and, lo! every trifling incident which that
mind touches, every piece of work which it handles, every dispensation to
which it submits becomes a sacrifice.

    “If in our daily walks our mind
     Be set to hallow all we find,
     New treasures still of countless price
     God will provide for sacrifice.
     We need not bid for cloistered cell
     Our neighbor and our work farewell,
     Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
     For sinful man beneath the sky;
     The trifling round, the common task
     Will furnish all we ought to ask,
     Room to deny ourselves—a road
     To bring us daily nearer God.”

If we allow the beauties of nature to raise our heart to God, we turn
that into a sacrifice. If cross incidents, which could not be avoided
or averted, are taken sweetly and lovingly, out of homage to the living
will of God, this, too, is a sacrifice. If work be done in the full view
of God’s assignment of our several tasks and spheres of labor, and under
the consciousness of his presence, however secular in its character, it
immediately becomes fit for presentation on the altar. If refreshment and
amusement are so moderated as to help the spirit instead of dissipating
it, if they are to be seasoned with the wholesome salt of self-denial
(for every sacrifice must be seasoned with salt) they, too, become a holy
oblation. If we study even perverse characters, with a loving hope and
belief that we shall find something of God and Christ in them, which may
be made the nucleus of better things, and instead of shutting ourselves
up in a narrow sphere of sympathies, seek out and try to develop the
good points of a generally uncongenial spirit; if we treat men as Christ
treated them, counting that somewhere in every one there is a better
mind, and the trace of God’s finger in creation, we may thus possibly
sanctify an hour which would else be one of irksome constraint, and after
which we might have been oppressed with a heavy feeling that it had been
a wasted one. If a small trifle, destined to purchase some personal
luxury or comfort, be diverted to a charitable and religious end, this is
the regular and standing sacrifice of alms, recognized by the Scripture
and the Liturgy. And finally, if we regard our time as, next to Christ,
and the Holy Spirit, the most precious gift of God; if we gather up
the fragments and interstices of it in a thrifty and religious manner,
and employ them in some exercise of devotion or some good and useful
work, this, too, becomes a tribute which God will surely accept with
complacency, if laid upon his altar and united by faith and a devout
intention with the one Sacrifice of our dear Lord.

Yes; if laid upon his altar; let us never forget or drop out of sight
that proviso. It is the altar, and the altar alone, which sanctifieth
the gift. Apart from Christ and his perfect sacrifice, an acceptable
gift is an impossibility for man. For at best our gifts have in them the
sinfulness of our nature; they are miserably flawed by defectiveness
of motive, duplicity of aim, infirmity of will. “The prayers of all
saints,” what force of interpretation must they have with God, if, as we
are sure, “the effectual, fervent prayer of a” (single) “righteous man
availeth much!” Yet when St. John saw in a vision “the prayers of all
saints” offered “upon the golden altar which was before the throne,” it
was in union with that which alone can perfume the tainted offsprings of
even the regenerate man. “There was given unto him much increase, that
he should offer it with the prayers of all saints upon the golden altar
which is before the throne.”

The increase is the intercession of Jesus. Place your offering, be
it prayer or alms, deed or work, or submission—in his hands for
presentation; pray him, as your only priest, to transact for you with
God, and he will do so. And the sense of God’s favor shall shine out upon
thy offering; and the dew of his blessing shall descend upon it, and ye
shall be gladdened with your Father’s smile.—_Goulburn._[3]

[_February 22._]

_Heaven, as a place of residence and state of enjoyment, should always
be viewed in contrast with earth._ This is a state of pupilage and
probation, that of dignity and promotion. Here is conflict, there
victory. This is the race, that the goal. Here we suffer, there we
reign. Here we are in exile, there at home. On earth we are strangers
and pilgrims, in heaven fellow citizens with the saints; and, released
from the strife and turmoil, the bitterness and regrets of earth, are
incorporated forever with the household of God.

This is triumph! How striking the contrast! How must earth and its
trials be lost sight of in such a vision! How must this contrast
strengthen the ties of confidence, and kindle the ardor of devotion!

What did Moses care for the perils of the wilderness, when, from the
storm-defying steep of Pisgah, he viewed the land of promise, imaging
forth the green fields of heaven’s eternal spring! Look at Elijah, the
immortal Tishbite, exchanging the sighs and solitude of his juniper
shade, for wheels of fire and steeds of wind that bore him home to God!
Look at Paul—poor, periled and weary, amid the journeyings and conflicts
of his mission: the hand that once stretched the strong eastern tent,
or wore the dungeon’s chain, now sweeps in boldest strain the harps of
heaven.… Look at the Christian of apostolic and early times, exchanging
the clanking of his chains and the curses of his jailor—the dungeon’s den
and martyr’s stake—for the notes of gladness and lofty anthem pealing
from lute and harp, bedecked with eternal amaranth! The load of chain
with which he went out to meet the descending car of his triumph, with
its angel escort, was a richer dowry than the jewels of empire! The
taper that flickered in the dungeon of the sainted hero shot a ray more
glorious than ever spoke the splendor of the full-orbed moon! What are
the crowns or the diadems of all this world’s masters or Cæsars, compared
with the prospects of such an expectant!

       *       *       *       *       *

Christians! what need we care, although on earth we were so poor and
low we had nor purse nor pillow; so few and trodden down we had no
power; and hamlets, huts and grottoes were the places where we wept and
prayed; if these are to be exchanged for a residence amid the jaspers and
chrysolites, the emeralds and sapphires of the heavenly Jerusalem!

What though soiled by the dust of toil or damp with the dungeon’s
dew—struggling amid tattered want along our lone and periled path—when
even here we find ourselves invested with glory in the night of our
being, and sustained by hopes guiding and pointing us to the temple hymn
and the heavenly harp above! …—_Bascom._[4]



Director of the Chautauqua School of Experimental Science.


In all ages, and among all nations, fire has been regarded with peculiar
interest. Of the four great elements so essential to life—earth, air,
water, fire—the last has often been considered as divine in its origin
and influence. To the unscientific observer it seems more than matter,
and little less than spirit. Contemplating a flame, he sees that while
it has form, it lacks solidity. He may pass a sword through it, but like
the ghost of the story, no wound is made in its ethereal substance. Its
touch is softer than down, but it penetrates the hardest substances. The
diamond carves glass, but flame destroys the diamond.

Men early found that fire was directly connected with their comfort and
progress, and even essential to their existence. How they first obtained
it is still matter of conjecture; whether it was brought down from
the skies, as the ancient Greeks supposed, struck out from the flinty
rock, evolved by the friction of dry wood, kindled by the lightning, or
obtained from the flaming torch of the volcano, we can not tell.

Certain it is, that having once been obtained, all the early races were
very careful to preserve it. Among many it was regarded as sacred, and
kept perpetually burning, both in their places of worship and in their
homes. The officers appointed for its preservation were of the highest
rank and influence. Among the titles assumed by Augustus Cæsar was that
of keeper of the public fire. Whenever by accident the fire in the temple
of Vesta, at Rome, was extinguished, all public business was at once
suspended, because the connection between heaven and earth was believed
to be severed, and must be restored before business could properly

Grecian colonists carried fire to their new homes from the altar of
Hestia. The “Prytaneum”[1] of the ancient Greeks and Romans was a place
where the national fire was kept always burning; it was here the people
gathered, foreign ambassadors received, and hospitalities of the state
were offered. Here, too, heads of families obtained coals for lighting
their household fires, which in turn became sacred, so that every hearth
was an altar, where resided the Lares and Penates, the gods who presided
over the welfare of the home.

Fancies akin to these beliefs of olden time may still be found among the
nations of the East and in northern Europe.


No correct ideas of combustion were attained until the time of
Lavoisier.[2] This great French savant gave precision and accuracy to the
investigations of chemical science by the introduction of the balance.
He disproved the theory that “water is the ultimate principle of all
things,” and prepared the way for a clear apprehension of the truth
that matter, though constantly changing its form, is never destroyed.
He also announced the correct theory of combustion. Until this time
scientists had held what was called the “Phlogiston[3] Theory.” We can
but smile at the absurdity of this belief, and yet no hypothesis was ever
taught more positively, or maintained more tenaciously. It declared, in
brief, that when substances burned, they parted with a certain material
called phlogiston. When, at length, its advocates were asked to explain
the fact, discovered by Dr. Priestly,[5] that quicksilver, when burned,
weighed more than before, they were forced to put forward the ridiculous
statement that phlogiston possessed the property of “buoyancy” so that
when it was contained in a body its weight was lessened; which was as
wise as the brilliant supposition that a person can lift himself over a
fence by tugging at his boot straps. After a fierce struggle they were
forced to confess that they had placed “the cart before the horse.”
The truth was precisely opposite to their statement. Substances when
they burn take up something instead of giving it off. That something is
oxygen, and a body when burned, if it can be weighed, will be found to
weigh as much more as the added weight of the oxygen which has united
with it. Example: Iron-rust is iron, plus oxygen.



We shall here confine ourselves to the consideration of the heat and
light produced by chemical action. It will be remembered that by this
term (chemical action) is meant the process of uniting two or more
different elements to form a compound different from either. We usually
consider air essential to combustion, but this is not necessarily the
fact. Gold foil or powdered antimony, dropped into a jar of chlorine,
spontaneously ignites. Even in the interior of the earth, heat must be
produced by the uniting of any elements that have an affinity for each


The most common agent of combustion is oxygen. Of this interesting
gas some description has been given in a preceding article. It is the
fruitful source of almost all of our artificial heat.

The fallen tree in the forest is slowly consumed by it, not less surely
than the flaming wood and coal in our stoves. The human body is a
furnace. In the minute corpuscles[7] of the blood, carbon is uniting with
oxygen as certainly as are the particles of carbon in the flame of our

Oxygen is the scavenger that partially cleans our gutters. It is a bird
of prey that devours the offal in our fields and woods. It is nothing
less than the gnawing tooth of old Father Time himself, which crumbles
cities and destroys all things.

Combustion, as we now know it, consists simply in the union of some
combustible material with oxygen. The generic term for all this action
is “oxidation.” For convenience, special names are given to particular
modes. When metallic oxidation occurs we call the product “rusting.”
When oxygen unites with vegetable matter we call it decaying or rotting;
when with animal substances we term it rotting or putrefaction. When
flame is produced, the word combustion or burning is used. The amount of
heat generated is, in all cases, proportioned to the amount of chemical
action. Great ingenuity and skill have been shown in the discovery and
utilization of materials best calculated to combine readily with oxygen.
To these, as a class, has been applied the term


All substances composed essentially of the elements, hydrogen and carbon,
would come under this designation. These would include coal, wood,
petroleum, the fats, resins, wax and many others, with some of the gases,
among which may be named light and heavy carburetted hydrogen, CH₄ and
C₂H₄ respectively.


In the days of our grandfathers tallow candles were almost universally
employed for lighting houses, and wood for warming them. It would not
be impossible to find even now, in our own country, homes illuminated
(?) by a rag burning in a saucer of fat. Some of us are not too young to
remember the bundle of candle-rods—nice, straight sticks used in dipping
candles—snugly put away for that purpose, alas! sometimes summoned forth
to assist in enforcing family discipline!


Strands of twisted cotton wick were suspended from these sticks, and
successively dipped into a kettle of hot tallow, until external additions
made them of the requisite size. Tin candle moulds finally superseded
these. Then the wick was suspended in the center and the fat poured
in. In cooling, the candles contracted, and so slipped easily from
the moulds. Wax candles can not be cast in moulds, as they expand in
cooling. They are made by pouring successive additions upon them. They
are afterward given symmetrical form by rolling and shaping. Along the
sea coast I have seen women and children gathering bay berries,[10]
a fruit about as large as a grain of black pepper and covered with a
grayish-white, fragrant wax. When these seeds are placed in hot water the
wax dissolves and serves the same purpose as tallow, making delightfully
aromatic candles.

Many of the hydro-carbons possess an agreeable odor. Sometimes the
woodmen gather the bark and chips of the hickory to smoke hams and
shoulders on account of the peculiarly pleasant flavor they impart.
In burning, a candle or lamp becomes a gas factory, manufacturing and
consuming its own product. The flame consists of three cones. The first,
that next to the wick, is composed solely of gas. It is not hot, as can
be shown by thrusting the end of a match into it, the match will not
ignite. If the match be placed across the flame at the same point it will
burn at the edges, but not in the center. A more striking illustration
of the fact that the flame is hot only where it comes in contact with
the air, can be shown in the following manner: Place on the bottom of an
inverted plate some alcohol, in the center set a tiny saucer containing
powder; ignite the alcohol, and the powder will remain undisturbed in the
center of the surrounding flame until a draft brings the _edge_ of the
flame against the powder, when it will at once explode.

Look steadily at the flame of an ordinary candle and you can readily
discern the three cones; the first is gas, the second gas in rapid
combination with the oxygen of the air, the third the products of this
combination—watery vapor, carbonic anhydride, and, possibly, some
unconsumed carbon.


The process that goes on in our stoves is essentially the same. The
carbon and hydrogen of the wood or coal unite with the oxygen that passes
through the draft. Now note a wonderful provision for our comfort. It
has already been remarked that the product of combustion consists of
the thing burned, plus oxygen. Suppose, in the case of our fires, this
product were a solid, we should then be forced to take out of the stove
more material than we put in. The Creator has, however, provided that
these resulting materials shall take the form of gas or vapor, so that
they can float away. The ashes that remain form but a small part of the
whole. The two most common products of combustion are watery vapor and
carbonic anhydride.

The illumination of our towns and cities has long been accomplished
by the use of gas manufactured from coal. Bituminous coal is used for
this purpose, and the process consists in heating it to destructive
distillation, and afterward condensing and absorbing such portions of
the volatilized materials as might clog the gas pipes or interfere with
perfect combustion.

Nature, it is now known, has her own gas works, on an immense scale.
Thirty-five years ago the village of Fredonia, N. Y., was partially
lighted with gas, and the supply is still unexhausted. Indeed, of late,
many private individuals have sunk pipes two or three hundred feet, and
thus supplied their homes with gas for illuminating, heating, and cooking
purposes. In Butler and McKean counties, Pennsylvania, the production of
these gas wells is enormous. Many have been burning day and night for
years, while others have been utilized for heating and lighting towns and
cities. Gas is now extensively used in rolling mills for smelting iron.
Petroleum, or rock oil, which is usually associated with this natural
gas, has now become of immense value to this and other lands. It is one
of the chief articles of export from this country, ranking perhaps as
fourth. Wells have recently been struck in Pennsylvania that flowed 5,000
and 6,000 barrels per day.

[Illustration: SODIUM BURNING ON HOT WATER.[12]]

There is reason to believe that this material is the product of
distillation of organic matter in the earth. It is found in porous rock,
usually coarse sand, at depths varying from three hundred to two thousand
feet. When the rock above the sand containing oil is tight, the gas is
often retained, which by its expansion presses upon the oil and forces it
to the surface through the pipes put down for this purpose. This produces
a flowing well. When the gas has escaped a pump is necessary.

The most useful hydro-carbon now employed is coal. Its use was first
introduced in the latter part of the twelfth century, and as late as the
thirteenth century petitions were made by residents of London demanding
its exclusion, on account of its injurious effect on the health. But now,
Great Britain mines annually more than one hundred million tons of coal.
Its uses are manifold. By it England has multiplied her power a thousand
fold. It is almost always employed in generating steam, and the aggregate
steam power of England is equal to the productive laboring force of
four hundred millions of men, or “twice the power of the adult working
population of the globe.” Most countries know its value.


Coal is the key that unlocks for us the treasures of the iron ore. It
seizes upon the oxygen in the ore, and liberates the pure metal. By a
wonderful provision they often exist in the same mountain, side by side.
I have seen in Pennsylvania, running out of the same tunnel in the hills,
car loads of coal and iron ore.

Among the many advantages possessed by our own country is our immense
store of this precious hydro-carbon. With an area of 300,000,000 miles of
territory, we have more than 200,000 square miles of known coal producing
area, or one in fifteen.

Great Britain has one-half of the coal fields of all Europe, but even
she has but one square mile of coal to twenty square miles of territory.
Beside, our coal seams are of great thickness, and lie comparatively
near the surface. In the far West, vast fields of lignite[14] have been
discovered, so that there seems no prospect of our exhausting our fuel
supply for ages to come.

The diamond is crystallized carbon, and can be burned, though one would
hardly care to be warmed by so costly a fire.

Cleopatra, in a freak of extravagance, dissolved a wonderful pearl,
but who could think of the wise queen of England using in so wasteful
a manner her Kohinoor.[15] Six of the great diamonds of the world are
called, by way of eminence, “The Paragons,” and a romantic interest has
been attached to this form of carbon among all nations. In point of
fact, however, the black diamonds of the coal pit are more interesting,
and of far greater value to mankind than these glittering gems from
Golconda,[16] Brazil and the Dark Continent.[17]




    “Rugged or not, there is no other way.”—_Luther._

The champions of temperance have to contend with two chief
adversaries—ignorance and organized crime. The well-organized liquor
league can boast of leaders whose want of principles is not extenuated
by want of information, and who deliberately scheme to coin the misery
of their fellowmen into dollars and cents. But the machinations of
such enemies of mankind would not have availed them against the power
of public opinion, if their cunning had not found a potent ally in the
ignorance, not of their victims only, but of their passive opponents.
We need the moral and intellectual support of a larger class of our
fellow-citizens, before we can hope to secure the effectual aid of legal
remedies, and in that direction the chief obstacles to the progress of
our cause have been the prevailing misconceptions on the following points:

1. COMPETENCE OF LEGISLATIVE POWER.—There can be no doubt that the
legislative authority even of civilized governments has been frequently
misapplied. The most competent exponents of political economy agree that
the state has no business to meddle in such affairs as the fluctuation
of market prices, the rate of interest, the freedom of international
traffic. On more than one occasion European governments, having attempted
to regulate the price of bread-stuffs, etc., were taught the folly of
such interference by commercial dead-locks and the impossibility of
procuring the necessaries of life at the prescribed price, and were thus
compelled to remedy the mischief by repealing their enactments. Usury
laws tend to increase, instead of decreasing, the rate of interest, by
obliging the usurer to indemnify himself for the disadvantage of the
additional risk. The attempt to increase national revenues by enforcing
an artificial balance of trade has ever defeated its own object. It
is almost equally certain that compulsory charities do on the whole
more harm than good. On the other hand, there are no more undoubtedly
legitimate functions of government than the suppression, and the, if
possible, prevention, of crime, and the enforcement of health laws; and
it can be demonstrated by every rule of logic and equity that the liquor
traffic can be held amenable in both respects. The favorite argument
of our opponents is the distinction of crime and vice. For the latter,
they tell us, society has no remedy, except in as much as the natural
consequences (disease, destitution, etc.) are apt to recoil on the person
of the perpetrator; the evil of intemperance therefore is beyond the
reach of the law. We may fully concede the premises without admitting the
cogency of the conclusion. The suspected possession or private use of
intoxicating liquors would hardly justify the issue of a search warrant,
but the penalties of the law can with full justice be directed against
the manufacturer or vender who seeks gain by tempting his fellowmen to
indulge in a poison infallibly injurious in any quantity, and infallibly
tending to the development of a body and soul corrupting habit; they
may with equal justice be directed against the consumer, stupefied or
brutalized by the effects of that poison. The rumseller has no right
to plead the consent of his victim. The absence of violence or “malice
prepense,”[1] is a plea that would legalize some of the worst offenses
against society. The peddler of obscene literature poisons the souls
of our children without a shadow of ill-will against his individual
customer. The gambler, the lottery-shark, use no manner of force in the
pursuit of their prey. By what logic can we justify the interdiction of
their industry and condemn that of the liquor traffic? By the criterion
of comparative harmlessness? Have all the indecencies published since the
invention of printing occasioned the thousandth part of the misery caused
by the yearly and inevitable consequences of the poison vice? The lottery
player may lose or win, but the customer of the liquor vender is doomed
to loss as soon as he approaches the dram-shop. The damage sustained
by the habitual player may be confined to a loss of money, while the
habitual drunkard is sure to suffer in health, character and reputation,
as well as in purse. And shall we condone the conduct of the befuddled
drunkard on account of a temporary suspense of conscious reason? That
very _dementation_ constitutes his offense.

His actions may or may not result in actual mischief, but he has put the
decision of that event beyond his control. The man who gallops headlong
through crowded streets is punished for his reckless disregard of other
men’s safety, though the hoofs of his horse may have failed to inflict
any actual injury. A menagerie keeper would be arrested, if not lynched,
for turning a city into a pandemonium by letting loose his bears and
hyenas, and for the same reason no man should be permitted to turn
himself into a wild beast.

“Virtue must come from within,” says Prof. Newman;[2] “to this problem
religion and morality must direct themselves. But vice may come from
without; to _hinder_ this is the care of the statesman.” And here, as
elsewhere, prevention is better than cure. By obviating the temptations
of the dram-shop a progressive vice with an incalculable train of
mischievous consequences may be nipped in the bud. Penal legislation
is a sham if it takes cognizance of moral evils only after they have
passed the curable stage. “It is mere mockery,” says Cardinal Manning,[3]
“to ask us to put down drunkenness by moral and religious means, when
the legislature facilitates the multiplication of the incitements to
intemperance on every side. You might as well call upon me as a captain
of a ship and say: ‘Why don’t you pump the water out when it is sinking,’
when you are scuttling the ship in every direction. If you will cut off
the supply of temptation, I will be bound by the help of God to convert
drunkards, but until you have taken off this perpetual supply of
intoxicating drink we never can cultivate the fields. Let the legislature
do its part and we will answer for the rest.”

All civilized nations have recognized not only the right but the duty
of legislative authorities to adopt the most stringent measures for the
prevention of contagious disease; yet all epidemics taken together have
not caused half as much loss of life and health as the plague of the
poison vice.

2. MAGNITUDE OF THE EVIL.—Since health and freedom began to be recognized
as the primary conditions of human welfare, the conviction is gaining
ground that the principles of our legislative system need a general
revision. It was a step in the right direction when the lawgivers of the
Middle Ages began to realize the truth that the liberty of individual
action should be sacrificed only to urgent consideration of public
welfare, but the modified theories on the comparative importance of these
considerations have inaugurated a still more important reform. Penal
codes gradually ceased to enforce ceremonies and abstruse dogmas and
to ignore monstrous municipal and sanitary abuses. The time has passed
when legislators raged with extreme penalties against the propagandists
of speculative theories and ignored the propagation of slum diseases,
yet, after all, there is still a lingering belief in the minds of many
contemporaries that intemperance, as a physical evil, a “mere dietetic
excess,” does not justify the invasion of personal liberty. They would
consent to restrict the freedom of thought and speech rather than the
license of the rum-dealer, yet the tendency of a progressive advance
in public opinion promises the advent of a time when that license will
appear the chief anomaly of the present age. The numberless minute
prescriptions and interdicts of our law books and their silence on the
crime of the liquor traffic will make it difficult for coming ages to
comprehend the intellectual status of a generation that could wage such
uncompromising war against microscopic gnats and consent to gratify the
greed of a monstrous vampire.

3. SELF-CORRECTING ABUSES.—Modern physicians admit that various forms
of disease which were formerly treated with drastic drugs can be safely
trusted to the healing agencies of nature. Many social evils, too, tend
to work out their own cure. High markets encourage competition and
have led to a reduction of prices. Luxury leads to enforced economy
by reducing the resources of the spendthrift. Dishonest tradesmen
lose custom, and a German government that used to fine editors for
publishing unverified rumors might have left it to the subscribers to
withdraw their patronage from a purveyor of unreliable news. But there
are certain causes of disease that demand the interference of art.
_Poisons_, especially, require artificial antidotes. If a child has
mistaken arsenic for sugar, its life commonly depends on the timely
arrival of a physician. The organism may rid itself of a surfeit, but
is unable to eliminate the virus of a skin disease. Alcoholism belongs
to the same class of disorders. We need not legislate against corsets;
the absurdities of fashion change and vanish like fleeting clouds, and
their votaries may welcome the change; but drunkards would remain slaves
of their vice though the verdict of public opinion should have made
dram-drinking extremely unfashionable. The morbid passion transmitted
from sire to son, and strengthened by years of indulgence, would defy all
moral restraints and yield only to the practical impossibility to obtain
the object of its desire.

“A number of years ago,” says Dr. Isaac Jennings, “I was called to the
shipyard in Derby, to see John B., a man about thirty years of age, of
naturally stout, robust constitution, who had fallen from a scaffold in
a fit, head first upon a spike below. In my visit to dress the wounded
head, I spoke to him of the folly and danger of continuing to indulge his
habit of drinking, and obtained from him a promise that he would abandon
it. Not long after I learned that he was drinking again, and reminded him
of his promise. His excuse was, that it would not do for him to abandon
the practice of drinking suddenly. A few weeks after this he called at my
office and requested me to bleed him, or do something to prevent a fit,
for he felt much as he did a short time before having the last fit. I
said to him, ‘John, sit down here with me and let us consider your case
a little.’ I drew two pictures and held before him; one presented a wife
and three little children with a circle of friends made happy and himself
respectable and useful in society; the other, a wretched family, and
himself mouldering in a drunkard’s grave; and appealed to him to decide
which should prove to be the true picture. The poor fellow burst into
tears and wept like a child. When he had recovered himself from sobbing
so that he could speak he said: ‘Doctor, to tell you the truth, it is not
that I am afraid of the consequences of stopping suddenly that I do not
give up drinking. _I can not do it._ I have tried and tried again, but it
is all in vain. Sometimes I have gone a number of weeks without drinking,
and I flattered myself that the temptation was gone, but it returned,
and now if there was a spot on earth where men lived and could not get
spirits, and I could get there, I would start in a minute.’ I thought I
had understood something of the difficulties of hard drinkers before,
but this gave me a new impression of the matter, and most solemnly did I
charge myself to do what I could to _make a spot on earth where men could
live and couldn’t get spirits_.”

4. LESSER EVILS.—Even in a stricter form than any rational friend of
temperance would desire its enforcement, prohibition would not involve
any consequences that could possibly make the cure a greater evil than
the disease. The predicted aching void resulting from the expurgation
of beer-tunnels could be filled by healthier means of recreation.
The grief of the superseded poison-mongers would not outweigh the
mountain-load of misery and woe which the abolishment of their cursed
trade would lift from the shoulders of the nation. When the state of Iowa
declared for prohibition the opponents of that amendment bemoaned the
loss entailed by the departure of “so many industrious and respectable
citizens,” _i. e._, from the exodus of the rumsellers! We might just
as well be asked to bewail the doom of the Thugs[4] as the subversion
of a prosperous industry. We might as well be requested to sympathize
with the respectable bloodhound-trainers and knout-manufacturers whom
the abolition of slavery threw out of employment. The liquor dealer
has no right to complain about the rigor of a law that permits him to
depart with the spoils of such a trade. We are told that the mere rumor
of Maine laws has deterred many foreigners from making their homes with
us; that the Russian peasants decline to come without their brewers and
distillers, and that by general prohibition we would risk to reduce our
immigration from every country of northern Europe. We must take that
risk, and let Muscovites rot in the bogs of the Volga if they can not
accept our hospitality without turning our bread corn into poison. Our
utilitarian friends would hardly persuade us to legalize cannibalism in
order to encourage a larger immigration of Fiji islanders. The absence
of such guests might not prove an unqualified evil. I shall not insult
the intelligence of my readers by repeating the drivel of the wretches
who would weigh the reduction of revenues against the happiness of a
hell-delivered nation, and I will only mention the reply of a British
financier who estimates that the increase of national prosperity would
offset that reduction _in less than five years_.

5. EFFICACY OF PROHIBITION.—Will prohibition prevent the use of
intoxicating liquor? Not wholly, but it will answer its purpose. It will
banish distilleries to secret mountain glens and hidden cellars. It will
drive the man-traps of the poison-monger from the public streets. It
will save our boys from a hundred temptations; it will help thousands
of reformed drunkards to keep their pledge; it will restore peace and
plenty to many hundred thousand homes. More than a century ago the
philosopher Leibnitz[5] maintained that the plenary suppression of the
liquor traffic would be the most effectual means for reforming the moral
status of civilized nations, and experience has since fully demonstrated
the correctness of that opinion. A memorandum endorsed by a large number
of statistical vouchers describes the effect of prohibition in Sweden:
“The nation rose and fell, grew prosperous and happy, or miserable and
degraded, as its rulers and law-makers restrained or permitted the
manufacture and sale of that which all along the track of its history has
seemed to be the nation’s greatest curse.” … “The vigorously maintained
prohibition against spirits in 1753-1756, and again in 1772-1775, proved
the enormous benefits effected in moral, economical, and other respects,
by abstinence from intoxicating spirits.” … “This it is which has so
helped Sweden to emerge from moral and material prostration, and explains
the existence of such general indications in that country of comfort and
independence among all classes.”

From the Edinburgh _Review_ for January, 1873, we learn that in
eighty-nine private estates in England and Scotland, “the drink traffic
has been altogether suppressed, with the happiest social results. The
late Lord Palmerston[6] suppressed the beer shops in Romsey as the leases
fell in. We know an estate which stretches for miles along the romantic
shore of Loch Fyne,[7] where no whiskey is allowed to be sold. The
peasants and fishermen are flourishing. They have all their money in the
bank, and they obtain higher wages than their neighbors when they go to
sea”—a proof that a small oasis of temperance can maintain its prosperity
in the midst of poison-blighted communities.

Here and there the wiles of the poison-mongers will undoubtedly succeed
in evading the law, but their power for mischief will be diminished as
that of the gambling-hell was diminished in Homburg and Baden,[8] where
temptation was removed out of the track of the uninitiated till the host
of victims dwindled away for want of recruits. Not the promptings of an
innate passion, but the charm of artificial allurements is the gate by
which ninety-nine out of a hundred drunkards have entered the road to
ruin. It would be an understatement to say that the temptation of minors
will be reduced a hundred fold wherever the total amount of sales has
been reduced as much as five fold—a result which has been far exceeded,
even under the present imperfect system of legal control. “In the course
of my duty as an Internal Revenue officer,” says Superintendent Hamlin of
Bangor, “I have become thoroughly acquainted with the state and extent
of the liquor traffic in Maine, and I have no hesitation in saying that
the beer trade is not more than one per cent. of what I remember it to
have been, and the trade in distilled liquors is not more than ten per
cent. of what it was formerly.” “I think I am justified in saying,”
reports the Attorney-General, “that there is not an open bar for the
sale of intoxicating liquor in this county” (Androscoggin, including
the manufacturing district of Lewiston—once a very hotbed of the rum
traffic). “In the city of Biddeford, a manufacturing place of 11,000
inhabitants, for a month at a time not a single arrest for drunkenness
has been made or become necessary.” And from Augusta (the capital of the
state): “If we were to say that the quantity of liquor sold here is not
one-tenth as large as formerly, we think it would be within the truth;
and the favorable effects of the change upon all the interests of the
state are plainly seen everywhere.”

“It is perhaps not necessary,” says the Boston _Globe_, of July 29, 1875,
“to dwell on the evils of intemperance, and yet people seldom think how
great a proportion of these might be prevented by driving the iniquity
into its hiding places, and preventing it from coming forth to lure its
victims from among the unwary and comparatively guileless. Few young men
who are worth saving, or are likely to be saved to decency and virtue,
would seek it out if it were kept from sight. But when it comes forth in
gay and alluring colors, it draws a procession of our youth into a path
that has an awful termination. Nor does the evil which springs from an
open toleration of the way in which this vice carries on its traffic of
destruction fall only on men. A sad proportion of its victims is made
up from shop girls and abandoned women who are not so infatuated at the
start that they would plunge into a life of infamy if its temptations
were strictly under the ban, and kept widely separated from the world
of decency. But it intruded itself upon them. Its temptations and
opportunities are before their eyes, and the way is made easy for their
feet to go down to death.”

“To what good is it,” says Lord Brougham,[9] “that the legislature
should pass laws to punish crime, or that their lordships should occupy
themselves in trying to improve the morals of the people by giving
them education? What could be the use of sowing a little seed here
and plucking up a weed there, if these beer shops are to be continued
to sow the seeds of immorality broadcast over the land, germinating
the most frightful produce that ever has been allowed to grow up in a
civilized country, and, I am ashamed to add, under the fostering care of

The prohibition of the poison traffic has become the urgent duty
of every legislator, the foremost aim of every moral reformer. The
verdict of the most eminent statesmen, physicians, clergymen, patriots
and philanthropists, is unanimous on that point. We lack energy, not
competence, nor the sanction of a higher authority, to gain the votes of
the masses.

“We can prove the success of prohibition by the experience of our
neighboring state,” writes Dr. Herbert Buchanan, of Portsmouth, New
Hampshire; “all the vicious elements of society are arraigned against
us, _but I have no fear of the event if we do not cease to agitate the

Agitation, a ceaseless appeal to the common sense and conscience of our
fellowmen can, indeed, not fail to be crowned with ultimate success. The
struggle with vice, with ignorance and mean selfishness may continue, but
it will be our own fault if our adversaries can support their opposition
by a single valid argument, and the battle will be more than half won if
a majority of our fellow-citizens have to admit that we contend no longer
for a favor, but for an evident right.




We have here to consider the sources of the three leading dietetic
beverages. They are very unlike in general appearance, but all possess
the same vegetable principle, called an alkaloid,[1] though known under
different names. Thus modern chemistry has proved the identity of the
theine of the tea, the caffeine[2] of the coffee and the theo-bromine[3]
of the chocolate. This same vegetable alkaloid, remarkable for its large
per cent. of nitrogen, is found in small quantities in a few other
plants, most of which have been used to some extent for the making of
an exhilarating drink. It answers our purpose best to treat each of our
three subjects under its respective head.

TEA (_Thea viridis_[4]).—The tea of commerce is the prepared leaves of
a shrub belonging to the order Camelliaceæ[5] represented in the United
States by loblolly bay[6] and Stuartia.[7] Perhaps the most familiar
near relative of the tea plant is the camellia of our green houses and
window gardens. The wild tea shrub grows from twenty to thirty feet high,
and is found native in China and Japan. When under cultivation the shrub
is pruned so as to not exceed six feet in height. The flowers are large,
white and fragrant; they are produced in clusters in the axils of the
simple, oblong, evergreen, serrate leaves. China and Japan are among the
leading tea-growing countries, its cultivation being chiefly confined
between twenty-five and thirty-five north latitude. Tea was in general
use in China in the ninth century, but it was not until the seventeenth
century that it was introduced into Europe. About the middle of this
century the East India Company imported tea into England, since which
time it has become the regular beverage of many millions of people in all
parts of the world. The importations of tea into the United States for
the year ending June 30th, 1884, were 67,665,910 pounds. It will be seen
that this gives somewhere near a pound and a quarter of tea for each man,
woman and child in this country. Most of our China tea trade is carried
on with Shanghai, Foo Chow and Amoy.

In China the tea shrub is grown chiefly on the southern slopes of hills
in poor, well watered soil, to which manure is applied. The seeds are
dropped in holes at regular intervals, and during the third year the
first crop is obtained. In from seven to ten years the shrubs are cut
down and shoots spring up from the stumps, which continue to yield crops
of leaves. A single plant produces on an average between three hundred
and three hundred and fifty pounds of dried leaves. The leaves are picked
three times a year, in April, May, and June or July. The young, tender
leaves of the first gathering make the best tea, and this is very largely
consumed in its native country. The older leaves of the second and third
pickings make a poorer quality of tea which abounds in tannin,[8] and
contains but a small per cent. of the best elements of superior tea.
It was long supposed that black and green sorts of tea were made from
distinct varieties, or even species of plants; in fact, there has been
a great deal of mystery surrounding the culture and preparation of tea
until within the past score of years. Authorities now state that there
is only one species of plant yielding tea leaves, and from this all
sorts are made. The differences are natural, being some of them due to
climate and conditions of soil, etc., while others are the result of the
manipulation of the leaves after they are gathered. Black and green tea
may come from the same shrub, or even the same branch of a plant. The
leaves forming black tea undergo a fermentation before they are dried,
while those designed for green tea are at once submitted to a high heat
in iron pans, and not copper pans, as generally supposed. After the
leaves for black tea have been gathered they are placed in heaps, when
they become flaccid and turn dark from incipient fermentation. The leaves
are then rolled between the thumb and fingers or upon bamboo tables until
the desired twist is obtained. They next pass to a drying room and are
heated in an iron pan; again twisted, and afterward dried over a slow
fire. The principal difference between the preparation of black and green
tea is that in the latter the freshly gathered leaves go at once into the
heated pans. The repeated twisting and heating is nearly the same with
both classes. The green teas are sometimes artificially colored by using
turmeric[9] with gypsum or Prussian blue. A flavor is frequently given to
the tea by adding aromatic flowers, as those of the pekoe and caper.[10]
Among the leading varieties of black tea are: Bohea, a small leaf, crisp
and strong odor, with brackish taste; two sorts of Congous—the large leaf
with fine flavor, and the small leaf with a burnt smell. The Souchong is
the much prized “English Breakfast,” made from leaves of three-year-old
trees. Only a small part of the so-called Souchong is genuine. Pekoe is
made from the tenderest leaves gathered from three-year-old plants while
in bloom. Oolongs are common kinds of black teas, much used for mixing
with other sorts. Of the green teas the Gunpowder is round, like shot,
with green color and fragrant taste. The Imperial is more loosely rolled
than the Gunpowder. Young Hyson is in loose rolls, which easily crumble
to the touch; it gives a light green infusion. Old Hyson is the older
leaves in the picking for Young Hyson. Twankay consists of mixed and
broken leaves, and is of inferior quality. Japan teas are both colored
and uncolored, and come from Japan; they are very largely consumed in
this country.

The chemical composition of a fair sample of tea is; Theine, 1. to 3. per
cent.; caseine,[11] 15.; gum, 18.; sugar, .3; tannin, 26.; aromatic oil,
.75; fat, 4.; vegetable fiber, 20.; mineral substances, 5.; and water, 5.
per cent.

The tannin is an astringent, while the theine acts as a gentle excitant
upon the nervous system. This is probably enhanced by the warmth of the
infusion. The best authorities agree that tea is a valuable article of
diet for healthy, grown people. It however is not suitable for children
until growth is completed. Adults with irritable constitutions may be
injured by tea-drinking. Tea is the solace of old age. Cibber[12] wrote:
“Tea! thou soft, thou sober, sage and venerable liquid … thou female
tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink-tippling cordial, to
whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moments of my life, let me
fall prostrate.” Waller[13] truthfully says:

    “Tea doth our fancy aid,
     Repress those vapors which the head invade
     And keep the palace of the soul.”

Tea is extensively adulterated in many ways. In China exhausted tea
leaves and foliage of other trees are employed by millions of pounds
each year. Willow leaves are among the principal ones used for mixing
with tea. A British consul once related that at Shanghai there were at
one time 53,000 pounds of willow leaves in preparation to be sold as
tea. Mineral matters are used to color or “face” the tea. “The common
test,” states Mr. Felker, in his work “What the Grocers Sell Us,” “is
by infusion; this is poured off the leaves and examined for color,
taste, and odor, all of which are characteristic.… Impurities like sand,
iron filings and dirt may be seen among the leaves or at the bottom of
the cups. The leaves, too, betray by their coarseness and botanical
character, the nature and quality of the tea, for although the leaves
of the genuine tea differ much in form and size, yet their venation and
general structure are very distinctive.… ‘Lie tea,’ used to adulterate
Gunpowder tea, consists of tea dust mixed with mineral substances, starch
and gum, and then formed into little masses resembling tea.” Large tea
houses employ professional tea tasters who make steepings and judge upon
the flavor, purity, etc.

COFFEE.—The coffee of commerce is the seed of a shrub, _Coffea
Arabica_,[14] belonging to the order Rubiaceæ,[15] which is represented
in the United States by the charming little “bluets” of our pastures in
spring. The cape jessamine and bouvardias[16] of the green house are
near relatives of the coffee plant. The name coffee is probably derived
from the Arabic word _Kahwah_, although some authorities contend that
it is traced to Caffa, a province of Abyssinia, where the coffee plant
flourishes in the wild state. The coffee shrub is an evergreen, growing
to the height of twenty feet, with long, smooth, shining leaves. The pure
white flowers are produced in clusters in the axils of the leaves and
followed by fleshy berries which, when ripe, resemble small, dark red
cherries. Each berry usually contains two seeds embedded in the yellowish
pulp. These seeds, when separated from the pulp and papery covering, form
the raw coffee of the stores. Each seed—improperly called a berry—is
somewhat hemispherical, with a groove running through the middle of the
flat side. Sometimes one seed is abortive in the berry, and the other
becomes round, as in the Wynaad coffee from India, sometimes called “male
berry” coffee.

Coffee is cultivated in many countries lying between fifteen north and
fifteen south latitude. It may be successfully grown thirty degrees
from the equator. Like the tea plant, the coffee shrub favors the well
watered mountain slopes. The trees are set in long, straight rows, six
feet apart, and six feet from each other in the row. The coffee tree is
naturally a plant with long, straggling shoots, but under cultivation
it is pruned to make a shrub not exceeding six feet in height, with
long, lateral branches. A full crop should be obtained the third year.
The berries are gathered when the pulp begins to shrivel, and are at
once taken to the store-house, where they are pulped. The berries are
passed between large, rough rollers, which remove the pulp, but not the
parchment-like covering of the seeds. The berries with the pulp removed
are heaped up, covered with old sacking, and allowed to ferment for two
days. Water is turned on and all glutinous matter removed. The seeds are
spread out to dry, after which they are passed between wooden cylinders
that remove the thin, dry covering. The coffee seeds, after being
winnowed, are assorted into various sizes and packed ready for shipment.
A thrifty shrub yields two pounds of marketable coffee. The raw coffee
seed has a horny texture, without the peculiar aroma characteristic of
the roasted berry.

The early history of coffee is obscure. It has been in use for over a
thousand years. The knowledge of its use was first brought into Arabia
from Abyssinia in the fifteenth century. “Its peculiar property of
dissipating drowsiness and preventing sleep was taken advantage of in
connection with the prolonged religious services of the Mohametans, and
its use as a devotional antisoporific stirred up a fierce opposition on
the part of the priests. Coffee was by them held to be an intoxicant
beverage, and therefore prohibited by the Koran;[17] and the dreadful
penalties of an outraged sacred law were laid over the heads of all
who became addicted to its use. Notwithstanding the threats of divine
retribution, and though all manner of devices were adopted to check its
growth, the coffee-drinking habit spread rapidly among the Arabians,
Mohametans, and the growth of coffee as well as its use as a national
beverage became as inseparably associated with Arabia as tea is with
China.” Coffee reached Great Britain in the seventeenth century. Charles
II. attempted to suppress coffee houses by proclamation, because they
“devised and spread abroad divers false, malicious and scandalous reports
to the defamation of his Majesty’s government and to the peace and quiet
of the nation.” How different is this view from that held by those
interested in good government, peace and prosperity at the present day!
We now rejoice in the establishment of coffee houses, hoping that they
may supplant the much dreaded rum shops.

It is worthy of note here that the three dietetic beverages treated in
this article were all introduced into Europe at nearly the same time. Tea
came through the Dutch; cocoa was brought from South America to Spain,
and coffee came from Arabia by the way of Constantinople.

Coffee was for some time supplied only by Arabia, but near the beginning
of the eighteenth century its culture was introduced into Java and the
West India islands. At the present day its culture is general within the
tropics, Brazil leading the list in amount annually produced. In the
Eastern hemisphere the principal coffee regions are Java and Ceylon,
where a superior article is produced. The amount of coffee imported into
the United States during the year ending June 30th, 1884, was 534,785,542
pounds, and 18,907,627 pounds in excess of the previous year. It is seen
that these figures give nearly ten pounds for each individual in this
vast country. This amount per capita is exceeded by only a few countries.
Holland leads all European states, with an average of twenty-one pounds
per head, followed closely by Belgium, Denmark and Norway.

The dietetic value of coffee depends principally upon the alkaloid
caffeine or theine which it contains in common with tea and cocoa or
chocolate. Good coffee contains nearly one per cent. of this substance.
When obtained in a pure state it crystallizes in slender needles. The
peculiar aroma of coffee is due to the presence of caffeone,[18] which
develops in the process of roasting. It may be isolated as a brown
oil, heavier than water, by distilling roasted coffee with water. The
roasting of coffee is an operation requiring much good judgment, for by
carrying the process beyond a certain point the aroma is destroyed and a
disagreeable flavor is produced.

Roasted coffee when ground quickly deteriorates unless kept in close
vessels. Mocha coffee, which is brought from Arabia, is the best, and
that from Java ranks next. Much of the so-called Mocha coffee is raised
in Brazil, or elsewhere, and shipped to Arabia, after which it finds its
way into the markets. The berries of the true Mocha coffee are small,
dark and yellow; those of Java are a paler yellow, while the West India
and Brazilian coffees have a greenish-gray tint. The last named coffee is
usually sold under the name of Rio, an abbreviation of the leading coffee
exporting port of Brazil, namely, Rio de Janeiro; Martinique and St.
Domingo coffees are two other kinds but little known.

Coffee is principally valuable for its stimulating effects upon the
system. It produces a buoyancy of feeling, lightens the sensation of
fatigue, and sustains the muscles when under prolonged exertion. A cup
of rich, hot coffee seems to infuse new life into an o’er-tired body.
Equally with tea it is “the cup that cheers, but not inebriates.”

    “Coffee which makes the politician wise
     And see through all things with his half-shut eyes.”

Coffee is the subject of many adulterations, usually when sold in the
ground state. Several kinds of seeds resembling coffee in size have been
employed to adulterate the whole coffee, some of which need to be colored
before they will pass for the genuine. Many kinds of roots are sliced,
dried and roasted for the adulteration of coffee, among the leading ones
of which are chicory, carrot and the beet. Spent tanbark and even dried
beef’s liver have been thus employed. Many of these fraudulent additions
can be detected with the microscope. Ground coffee floats on water, while
most of the adulterations will sink or discolor the water. There is said
to be a machine in England for making false berries out of vegetable

CHOCOLATE.—The chocolate of the shops is derived from a small evergreen
tree, native of South America, Mexico, and West Indias. This tree,
_Theobroma cacao_, has large, pointed leaves and rose-colored flowers,
which are followed by fruit pods six to ten inches long. The first part
of the botanical name is from the Greek meaning “food for the gods,”
and the second or specific word _cacao_ is the old Mexican name for the
tree. The order Sterculiaceæ[19] to which the theobroma or chocolate
tree belongs is not represented in our flora. It however is known to
many by a species of Mahernia[20] from the cape of Good Hope, cultivated
in conservatories. The order contains about 520 species, nearly all of
which are tropical. The long pods, while green, resemble cucumbers, and
when ripe contain from thirty to an hundred seeds, arranged in rows, and
of the size of sweet almonds. During the season of ripening the pods are
gathered daily, laid in heaps until they have fermented, when they are
opened by hand and the seeds spread in the sun to dry, after which they
are ready for market. Before the Spaniards visited Mexico the natives
made a beverage from the seeds, which they called _chocalat_, and from
this we derived our word chocolate. The Spaniards have the credit of
introducing this beverage into Europe. In the manufacture of chocolate
the _cocoa_ (which is a corruption of the original Mexican _cacao_) beans
are roasted similar to the roasting of coffee, and after the husk is
removed they are reduced to a paste. This paste is afterward mixed with
equal quantities of sugar and heated and turned into cakes of various
shapes familiar to all housekeepers. Cacao nibs are the bruised and
broken seeds, and cocoa shells are the thin coverings of the seeds or
beans which are separated before the seeds are ground to powder. Broma is
chocolate prepared for the market in a certain way, and is a trade name.

The importations of chocolate for the year ending June 30th were
12,235,304 pounds, being an increase of nearly thirty-five per cent. over
the previous year.

Of the three leading beverages herein briefly described tea is the only
one that has been grown as a crop in the United States. In a reply to an
inquiry recently addressed to the Commissioner of Agriculture, it was
stated that the tea plant is hardy at Washington, D. C., and that the
tea plantations near Summerville, South Carolina, are doing well. “There
is no trouble about growing the plant, but the question of profitable
culture for the manufacture of tea is quite another thing.… The purpose
of the Department of Agriculture … is to cheapen the present methods
or possibly suggest the placing of the teas on the market in a wholly
different shape from what is done at present.” We may be able to supply
our own demands for tea, but it is not likely that the same will be true
of coffee and chocolate.


At the breakfast table of a friend not long ago I heard the gentleman of
the house remark over his fragrant coffee:

“I laughed at my wife when she went into the cooking school last summer,
I thought her a model cook before; but for some reason she has improved.
I never tasted such coffee as this.”

My hostess answered: “The reason is simple enough. I had always cooked
by rule before. I learned in my studies in cookery to reason. It makes a
great difference.”

It does make a difference, and never a greater than in preparing tea,
coffee and chocolate. There is rarely a cup of any one of these beverages
on our tables which is fit to drink; our coffee is bitter and muddy, tea
is either insipid or too strong, and chocolate has failed to become the
popular drink which it deserves to be, because so rarely well prepared.

Few cooks understand the nature of either the coffee berry or the tea
leaf, and consequently do not know how to treat them in order to extract
their delicious flavor, aroma, and nerve-bracing qualities.

Few cooks have an idea of the extreme delicacy of these articles, of how
scientifically, even artistically, they must be treated. To extract an
oil or flavor is one of the nicest experiments of the laboratory, and
one for which a chemist selects his materials with the greatest care,
attends strictly to the cleanliness of his vessels, watches every change
in temperature, and counts even seconds in time. Making these beverages
is nothing less than performing a delicate chemical experiment, and yet
we are so ignorant or careless about this important work that we attend
strictly to neither heat nor time, and often take just what we can most
easily get to work with.

If you would have good tea, coffee and chocolate begin your care with
your buying. Tea is a most troublesome article to purchase. There are
so many varieties on the market, and so much adulteration that the
probability is that unless you are taking extreme precautions you are
getting an inferior article. Adulteration is astonishingly common,
poor teas being manipulated to make them appear like the first-class
grades; inferior black teas colored to look like high-priced green
teas, “lie tea” sold in vast quantities, and made-over teas[1] made to
pass for fresh. How to obtain the genuine article is the housewife’s
first problem. Careful examination may be made under the microscope for
coloring matter, the tea may be soaked to see if it unrolls into true
leaves, or after washing it in a little water the liquid may be tested
with chemicals for foreign substances. But all this means trouble that
few housewives care to take. Probably the most practical plan is to find
by careful experiment a thoroughly reliable[2] tea-house and then confine
your patronage to it. A pound of tea bought here and another there, as
convenience may dictate or some friend advise, will insure you nothing
but adulteration. The only safe plan is to find a house which sells
good tea. Your tea bought, it must be prepared. In making a cup of tea
the chemical composition and the effect of each step in its preparation
must be observed or your draught will be ruined. The constituents in the
leaf which you must look after are the theine, the aromatic oil, and
the tannin. Your tea must be treated in such a way that the first two,
which give to the drink its flavor and aroma, will be extracted, but that
the bitter tannin will be left undeveloped. The theine and oil are both
volatile substances, so that if your tea is steeped too long, or if it
is boiled, they will literally fly away, while the tannin extracted will
turn your cup into a bitter, herby drink. A rule is easily formulated
from this bit of science:

Into a perfectly clean tea-pot, just scalded with boiling hot water,
put a heaping tablespoonful of tea for each person, and upon it pour a
cup and a half of boiling water for each spoonful. Cover your pot with
a “cosy”[3] if you have one, and let it stand on the back of the range,
where it will not boil, for from five to ten minutes. The length of time
required to steep each variety of tea must be determined by experiment,
some varieties taking longer than others. The exact length each housewife
must determine when she tries a new kind; and it may be said of the
exact proportion of tea to water that it as well must be determined by
experiment. No rule in cooking is inflexible. It must always be modified
by the good sense and the scientific care of the cook.

The English custom of making tea on the table is the prettiest and the
most satisfactory. They pour upon the tea required a small quantity of
boiling water, this is placed upon the table, covered with the “cosy;” a
pot of water taken when boiling from the stove is kept hot by a spirit
lamp, and when the tea is steeped as much boiling water as the quantity
of tea used demands is poured into the tea-pot. It is allowed to stand
about three minutes and then poured into the cups and on the cream.
Remember, cream should always be poured into the cups first for both tea
and coffee, and tea is as much improved by cream as is coffee.

The purchase of coffee is beset with the same trouble as that of
tea—adulteration. You may get a manufactured berry, you may get chiccory;
to avoid this careful tests must be applied and only reliable firms
patronized. Nothing but unbrowned coffee should be bought; the roasting
should be done at home. This process requires particular care. The coffee
berry is hard and horny, water has no effect upon it even when it has
been ground. It must be roasted in order that certain constituents may
become soluble. These constituents are a fragrant volatile oil called
caffeone, and the caffeine, which is identical with the theine of
tea. By roasting the oil is distributed through the berry and so made
soluble, while the caffeine is developed so that it may be absorbed by
water. Just the right amount of roasting must be done or the essential
constituents will be expelled and the bitter qualities will be made to
predominate. I have said that the roasting should be done at home. It may
be done in the shops, of course, but the operation there is carried on so
unscientifically that the aroma is lost on the town instead of being shut
up in the berry. Only a few days ago, passing up a business street of a
city, I was astonished to find the air heavy with the delicious aroma
of coffee. It scented the air for a square, and only when I came to a
large grocery store was the mystery explained. The grocer was browning
his coffee, and its odor was serving for an advertisement, effective,
perhaps, among the ignorant, but which would warn every wise housewife
not to purchase roasted coffee. The process is best carried on in one
of the very nearly perfect coffee roasters to be found in the shops; if
these are not at hand an ordinary dripping pan may be used. It should
be covered to prevent loss of aroma, and should be continually shaken
to prevent burning. The entire attention of one person should be given
the coffee during this operation. When turned to a rich chestnut brown
remove, keeping covered until quite cool. If left open the aroma escapes
very rapidly from warm coffee, but if kept covered much of that made
volatile by the heat is re-absorbed. A tight dish—an air-tight canister
is best—must be ready to keep it in.

When using, grind only what you need, and take care that it is not left
coarse, when the strength can not be extracted, or that it is not too
fine, when the liquor will be muddy in spite of you; in this, as always,
experiment until you know the degree of fineness which ground coffee
should have. A heaping tablespoonful of ground coffee to a cup and a half
of water is the ordinary proportion for making strong coffee—the only
kind which should ever be prepared, by the way, the diluting ought always
to take place in the cup; to the required amount of coffee add the white
and shell of an egg and cold water to thoroughly wet the whole; stir up
these ingredients in your coffee pot and pour upon them the required
amount of _boiling_ hot water. Let it boil from ten to fifteen minutes,
pour in half a cup of cold water and remove to the side of the stove
where it can not boil. Do not boil longer than the exact time which you
have found necessary for the kind of coffee you are using, if you do
you lose your flavor and extract in its place a bitter principle which
is ruinous. Remember always what one of our famous cooks says: “There
comes a time in baking, frying or broiling when injured nature revolts
and burns up, but a thing may boil until not a vestige of its original
condition remains, and unless the water evaporates, it may go on boiling
for hours without reminding one by smell or smoke that it is spoiled.”

Your coffee will settle in about five minutes. Now if you _must_ use a
different coffee urn, gently pour off the liquor so as not to disturb the
grounds. The settling of coffee is an essential point. The regulation
method of stirring an egg into the freshly ground berry is undoubtedly
best, but another and more economical practice may take its place. After
your freshly roasted berries are cool enough to be easily handled, add
to each pound a fresh egg and stir it in until each kernel is coated
smoothly with the mixture. Care must be taken that the coffee be not warm
enough to cook the egg. When eggs are expensive an economical method is
to wash the shells before they are broken, and use with cold water to
settle the coffee.

After all these precautions there are still other points to guard. Not
the least is the condition of the inside of the coffee pot; it should
never be stained, burnt or coated, but kept perfectly bright by being
washed, and, if necessary, scoured after each meal. It would be a gain
in aroma if your coffee pot could always be kept perfectly tight so that
none could escape, and if it could go to the table in the same dish. The
pleasant, suggestive odors which precede a meal are always signs that
the most delicious flavors of your coming breakfast, dinner or tea are
escaping, that through the unskillfulness of your cook you are losing
what should give the greatest charm to your meal.

_Café au lait_[4] is an excellent drink and easily prepared. Make in the
usual way a pint of strong coffee, and into your table urn or a pitcher
pour a cup and a half of fresh milk, scalding hot; to this add the coffee
and let the whole stand for five minutes in a hot place, or in a kettle
of hot water.

Chocolate is a most delicious drink if properly prepared; it is, however,
so often raw, muddy and strong that we have not been able to educate
ourselves to its peculiar disagreeableness. Make it by the following
rule and you will find it both nutritious and pleasant: Select with care
the best make of chocolate, and into a little cold water rub smooth
five tablespoonfuls of grated chocolate; be sure that it be rubbed in
smoothly, a hard particle of chocolate is as unwelcome a visitor in your
cup as floating tea leaves or black bobbing bits of coffee berries. So
rub it smooth and stir it slowly into five cups of boiling water. Let it
boil for about five minutes, and in the meantime heat two cups of milk;
this must be stirred into the boiling chocolate and the whole allowed to
simmer for a few minutes longer. You may sweeten it on the fire or in the


All the time that we are awake we are learning by means of our senses
something about the world in which we live and of which we form a part;
we are constantly aware of feeling, or hearing, or smelling, and, unless
we happen to be in the dark, of seeing; at intervals we taste. We call
the information thus obtained sensation.

When we have any of these sensations we commonly say that we feel, or
hear, or smell, or see, or taste something. A certain scent makes us say
we smell onions; a certain flavor, that we taste apples; a certain sound,
that we hear a carriage; a certain appearance before our eyes, that we
see a tree; and we call that which we thus perceive by the aid of our
senses a thing or an object.

Moreover, we say of all these things, or objects, that they are the
causes of the sensations in question, and that the sensations are the
effects of these causes. For example, if we hear a certain sound, we
say it is caused by a carriage going along the road, or that it is the
effect, or the consequence, of a carriage passing along. If there is a
strong smell of burning, we believe it to be the effect of something on
fire, and look about anxiously for the cause of the smell. If we see a
tree, we believe that there is a thing, or object, which is the cause of
that appearance in our field of view.

In the case of the smell of burning, when we find on looking about, that
something actually is on fire, we say indifferently either that we have
found out the cause of the smell, or that we know the reason why we
perceive that smell; or that we have explained it. So that to know the
reason why of anything, or to explain it, is to know the cause of it.
But that which is the cause of one thing is the effect of another. Thus,
suppose we find some smouldering straw to be the cause of the smell of
burning, we immediately ask what set it on fire, or what is the cause
of its burning? Perhaps we find that a lighted lucifer match has been
thrown into the straw, and then we say that the lighted match was the
cause of the fire. But a lucifer match would not be in that place unless
some person had put it there. That is to say, the presence of the lucifer
match is an effect produced by somebody as cause. So we ask, why did any
one put the match there? Was it done carelessly, or did the person who
put it there intend to do so? And if so, what was his motive, or the
cause which led him to do such a thing? And what was the reason for his
having such a motive? It is plain that there is no end to the questions,
one arising out of the other, that might be asked in this fashion.

Thus we believe that everything is the effect of something which preceded
it as its cause, and that this cause is the effect of something else, and
so on, through a chain of causes and effects which goes back as far as
we choose to follow it. Anything is said to be explained as soon as we
have discovered its cause, or the reason why it exists; the explanation
is fuller, if we can find out the cause of that cause; and the further
we can trace the chain of causes and effects, the more satisfactory is
the explanation. But no explanation of anything can be complete, because
human knowledge, at its best, goes but a very little way back toward the
beginning of things.

When a thing is found always to cause a particular effect, we call that
effect sometimes a property, sometimes a power of the thing. Thus the
odor of onions is said to be a property of onions, because onions always
cause that particular sensation of smell to arise, when they are brought
near the nose; lead is said to have the property of heaviness, because
it always causes us to have the feeling of weight when we handle it; a
stream is said to have the power to turn a waterwheel, because it causes
the waterwheel to turn; and a venomous snake is said to have the power
to kill a man, because its bite may cause a man to die. Properties and
powers, then, are certain effects caused by the things which are said to
possess them.

A great many of the things brought to our knowledge by our senses, such
as houses and furniture, carriages and machines, are termed artificial
things or objects, because they have been shaped by the art of man;
indeed, they are generally said to be made by man. But a far greater
number of things owe nothing to the hand of man, and would be just what
they are if mankind did not exist—such as the sky and the clouds; the
sun, moon and stars; the sea with its rocks and shingly or sandy shores;
the hills and dales of the land; and all wild plants and animals. Things
of this kind are termed natural objects, and to the whole of them we give
the name of Nature.

Although this distinction between nature and art, between natural and
artificial things, is very easily made and very convenient, it is needful
to remember that, in the long run, we owe everything to nature; that
even those artificial objects which we commonly say are made by men, are
only natural objects shaped and moved by men; and that, in the sense
of creating, that is to say, of causing something to exist which did
not exist in some other shape before, man can make nothing whatever.
Moreover, we must recollect that what men do in the way of shaping and
bringing together or separating natural objects, is done in virtue of the
powers which they themselves possess as natural objects.

Artificial things are, in fact, all produced by the action of that part
of nature which we call mankind, upon the rest.

We talk of “making” a box, and rightly enough, if we mean only that we
have shaped the pieces of wood and nailed them together; but the wood is
a natural object and so is the iron of the nails. A watch is “made” of
the natural objects gold and other metals, sand, soda, rubies, brought
together, and shaped in various ways; a coat is “made” of the natural
object, wool; and a frock of the natural objects, cotton or silk.
Moreover, the men who make all these things are natural objects.

Carpenters, builders, shoemakers, and all other artisans and artists, are
persons who have learned so much of the powers and properties of certain
natural objects, and of the chain of causes and effects in nature, as
enables them to shape and put together those natural objects, so as to
make them useful to man.

A carpenter could not, as we say, “make” a chair unless he knew something
of the properties and powers of wood; a blacksmith could not “make” a
horseshoe unless he knew that it is a property of iron to become soft and
easily hammered into shape when it is made red-hot; a brickmaker must
know many of the properties of clay; and a plumber could not do his work
unless he knew that lead has the properties of softness and flexibility,
and that a moderate heat causes it to melt.

So that the practice of every art implies a certain knowledge of natural
causes and effects; and the improvement of the arts depends upon our
learning more and more of the properties and powers of natural objects,
and discovering how to turn the properties and the powers of things and
the connections of cause and effect among them to our own advantage.

Among natural objects, as we have seen, there are some that we can get
hold of and turn to account. But all the greatest things in nature and
the links of cause and effect which connect them, are utterly beyond our
reach. The sun rises and sets; the moon and the stars move through the
sky; fine weather and storms, cold and heat, alternate. The sea changes
from violent disturbance to glassy calm, as the winds sweep over it with
varying strength or die away; innumerable plants and animals come in
being and vanish again, without our being able to exert the slightest
influence on the majestic procession of the series of great natural
events. Hurricanes ravage one spot; earthquakes destroy another; volcanic
eruptions lay waste a third. A fine season scatters wealth and abundance
here, and a long drought brings pestilence and famine there. In all such
cases, the direct influence of man avails him nothing; and, so long as he
is ignorant, he is the mere sport of the greater powers of nature.

But the first thing that men learned, as soon as they began to study
nature carefully, was that some events take place in regular order and
that some causes always give rise to the same effects. The sun always
rises on one side and sets on the other side of the sky; the changes of
the moon follow one another in the same order and with similar intervals;
some stars never sink below the horizon of the place in which we live;
the seasons are more or less regular; water always flows down-hill; fire
always burns; plants grow up from seed and yield seed, from which like
plants grow up again; animals are born, grow, reach maturity, and die,
age after age, in the same way. Thus the notion of an order of nature and
of a fixity in the relation of cause and effect between things gradually
entered the minds of men. So far as such order prevailed it was felt that
things were explained; while the things that could not be explained were
said to have come about by chance, or to happen by accident.

But the more carefully nature has been studied, the more widely has
order been found to prevail, while what seemed disorder has proved to
be nothing but complexity; until, at present, no one is so foolish as
to believe that anything happens by chance, or that there are any real
accidents, in the sense of events which have no cause. And if we say that
a thing happens by chance, everybody admits that all we really mean is,
that we do not know its cause or the reason why that particular thing
happens. Chance and accident are only _aliases_[1] of ignorance.

At this present moment, as I look out of my window, it is raining and
blowing hard, and the branches of the trees are waving wildly to and
fro. It may be that a man has taken shelter under one of these trees;
perhaps, if a stronger gust than usual comes, a branch will break, fall
upon the man, and seriously hurt him. If that happens it will be called
an “accident,” and the man will perhaps say that by “chance” he went out,
and then “chanced” to take refuge under the tree, and so the “accident”
happened. But there is neither chance nor accident in the matter. The
storm is the effect of causes operating upon the atmosphere, perhaps
hundreds of miles away; every vibration of a leaf is the consequence of
the mechanical force of the wind acting on the surface exposed to it; if
the bough breaks, it will do so in consequence of the relation between
its strength and the force of the wind; if it falls upon the man it will
do so in consequence of the action of other definite natural causes; and
the position of the man under it is only the last term in a series of
causes and effects, which have followed one another in natural order,
from that cause, the effect of which was his setting out, to that the
effect of which was his stepping under the tree.

But, inasmuch as we are not wise enough to be able to unravel all these
long and complicated series of causes and effects which lead to the
falling of the branch upon the man, we call such an event an accident.

When we have made out by careful and repeated observation that something
is always the cause of a certain effect, or that certain events always
take place in the same order, we speak of the truth thus discovered as
a law of nature. Thus it is a law of nature that anything heavy falls
to the ground if it is unsupported; it is a law of nature that, under
ordinary conditions, lead is soft and heavy, while flint is hard and
brittle; because experience shows us that heavy things always do fall if
they are unsupported, that, under ordinary conditions, lead is always
soft, and that flint is always hard.

In fact, everything that we know about the powers and properties of
natural objects and about the order of nature may properly be termed a
law of nature. But it is desirable to remember that which is very often
forgotten, that the laws of nature are not the causes of the order of
nature, but only our way of stating as much as we have made out of that
order. Stones do not fall to the ground in consequence of the law just
stated, as people sometimes carelessly say; but the law is the way of
asserting that which invariably happens when heavy bodies at the surface
of the earth, stones among the rest, are free to move.

The laws of nature are, in fact, in this respect, similar to the laws
which men make for the guidance of their conduct toward one another.
There are laws about the payment of taxes, and there are laws against
stealing or murder. But the law is not the cause of a man’s paying his
taxes, nor is it the cause of his abstaining from theft and murder.
The law is simply a statement of what will happen to a man if he does
not pay his taxes, and if he commits theft or murder; and the cause of
his paying his taxes, or abstaining from crime (in the absence of any
better motive) is the fear of consequences which is the effect of his
belief in that statement. A law of man tells what we may expect society
will do under certain circumstances; and a law of nature tells us what
we may expect natural objects will do under certain circumstances. Each
contains information addressed to our intelligence, and except so far as
it Influences our intelligence, it is merely so much sound or writing.

While there is this much analogy between human and natural laws, however,
certain essential differences between the two must not be overlooked.
Human law consists of commands addressed to voluntary agents, which
they may obey or disobey; and the law is not rendered null and void by
being broken. Natural laws, on the other hand, are not commands, but
assertions respecting the invariable order of nature; and they remain
laws only so long as they can be shown to express that order. To speak
of the violation, or the suspension, of a law of nature is an absurdity.
All that the phrase can really mean is that, under certain circumstances
the assertion contained in the law is not true; and the just conclusion
is, not that the order of nature is interrupted, but that we have made a
mistake in stating that order. A true natural law is a universal rule,
and, as such, admits of no exceptions.

Again, human laws have no meaning apart from the existence of human
society. Natural laws express the general course of nature, of which
human society forms only an insignificant fraction.

If nothing happens by chance, but everything in nature follows a definite
order, and if the laws of nature embody that which we have been able to
learn about the order of nature in accurate language, then it becomes
very important for us to know as many as we can of these laws of nature,
in order that we may guide our conduct by them.

Any man who should attempt to live in a country without reference to the
laws of that country would very soon find himself in trouble. And if he
were fined, imprisoned, or even hanged, sensible people would probably
consider that he had earned his fate by his folly.

In like manner, any one who tries to live upon the face of this earth
without attention to the laws of nature will live there for but a very
short time, most of which will be passed in exceeding discomfort; a
peculiarity of natural laws, as distinguished from those of human
enactment, being that they take effect without summons or prosecution. In
fact, nobody could live for half a day unless he attended to some of the
laws of nature; and thousands of us are dying daily, or living miserably,
because men have not yet been sufficiently zealous to learn the code of

It has already been seen that the practice of all our arts and
industries depends upon our knowing the properties of natural objects
which we can get hold of and put together; and though we may be able
to exert no direct control over the greater natural objects and the
general succession of causes and effects in nature, yet, if we know
the properties and powers of these objects, and the customary order of
events, we may elude that which is injurious to us, and profit by that
which is favorable.

Thus, though men can nowise alter the reasons or change the process
of growth in plants, yet having learned the order of nature in these
matters, they make arrangements for sowing and reaping accordingly; they
can not make the wind blow, but when it does blow they take advantage
of its known powers and probable direction to sail ships and turn
wind-mills; they can not arrest the lightning, but they can make it
harmless by means of conductors, the construction of which implies a
knowledge of some of the laws of that electricity of which lightning is
one of the manifestations. Forewarned is forearmed, says the proverb;
and knowledge of the laws of nature is forewarning of that which we may
expect to happen, when we have to deal with natural objects.

No line can be drawn between common knowledge of things and scientific
knowledge; nor between common reasoning and scientific reasoning. In
strictness all accurate knowledge is science; and all exact reasoning
is scientific reasoning. The method of observation and experiment, by
which such great results are obtained in science, is identically the
same as that which is employed by every one, every day of his life, but
refined and rendered precise. If a child acquires a new toy, he observes
its characters and experiments upon its properties; and we are all of us
constantly making observations and experiments upon one thing or another.

But those who have never tried to observe accurately will be surprised to
find how difficult a business it is. There is not one person in a hundred
who can describe the commonest occurrence with even an approach to
accuracy. That is to say, either he will omit something which did occur,
and which is of importance, or he will imply or suggest the occurrence of
something which he did not actually observe, but which he unconsciously
infers must have happened. When two truthful witnesses contradict one
another in a court of justice, it usually turns out that one or other, or
sometimes both, are confounding their inferences from what they saw with
that which they actually saw. A swears that B picked his pocket. It turns
out that all A really knows is that he felt a hand in his pocket when B
was close to him; and that B was not the thief, but C, whom A did not
observe. Untrained observers mix up together their inferences from what
they see with that which they actually see in the most wonderful way; and
even experienced and careful observers are in constant danger of falling
into the same error.

Scientific observation is such as is at once full, precise, and free from
unconscious inference.

Experiment is the observation of that which happens when we intentionally
bring natural objects together, or separate them, or in any way change
the conditions under which they are placed. Scientific experiment,
therefore, is scientific observation, performed under accurately known
artificial conditions.

It is a matter of common observation that water sometimes freezes.
The observation becomes scientific when we ascertain under what exact
conditions the change of water into ice takes place. The commonest
experiments tell us that wood floats in water. Scientific experiment
shows that, in floating, it displaces its own weight of the water.

Scientific reasoning differs from ordinary reasoning in just the same way
as scientific observation and experiment differ from ordinary observation
and experiment—that is to say, it strives to be accurate; and it is just
as hard to reason accurately as it is to observe accurately.

In scientific reasoning general rules are collected from the observation
of many particular cases; and, when these general rules are established,
conclusions are deduced from them, just as in everyday life. If a boy
says that “marbles are hard,” he has drawn a conclusion as to marbles
in general from the marbles he happens to have seen and felt, and
has reasoned in that mode which is technically termed induction. If
he declines to try to break a marble with his teeth, it is because
he consciously or unconsciously performs the converse operation of
deduction from the general rule “marbles are too hard to break with one’s

You will learn more about the process of reasoning when you study logic,
which treats of that subject in full. At present, it is sufficient
to know that the laws of nature are the general rules respecting the
behavior of natural objects, which have been collected from innumerable
observations and experiments; or, in other words, that they are
inductions from those observations and experiments. The practical and
theoretical results of science are the products of deductive reasoning
from these general rules.

Thus science and common sense are not opposed, as people sometimes fancy
them to be, but science is perfected common sense. Scientific reasoning
is simply very careful common reasoning, and common knowledge grows into
scientific knowledge as it becomes more and more exact and complete.

The way to science then lies through common knowledge; we must extend
that knowledge by common observation and experiment, and learn how to
state the results of our investigations accurately, in general rules
or laws of nature; finally, we must learn how to reason accurately
from these rules, and thus arrive at rational explanations of natural
phenomena, which may suffice for our guidance in life.


[C] From Science Primers. Introductory. By Prof. T. H. Huxley,


Science means classified knowledge. There may be much general knowledge
that is not science. It attains to that dignity only when the particular
facts known are generalized, and arranged in some order, instead of being
jumbled together, and lying about loosely in the memory, to be taken up
at random. Especially must the basal facts of the science be verified,
not assumed.

Information that is general and assured, though as yet lacking system and
a proper ordering of the elementary facts, may, and usually will in time
advance to the dignity of science. History warrants this expectation.
Only let not the boast be made, or the honor conferred prematurely.
Geography, chemistry, and political economy are all now sciences. The
first has been recognized among the sciences from an early day, though
it has advanced rapidly during the present century. The last two are
comparatively new members, having held their place in the “Circle”
scarcely a hundred years. True, many of the facts of chemistry, and
the principles of political economy had been known for ages, but the
knowledge men had of them lacked either system or certainty, or both. So,
also, in respect to mineralogy, botany, and zoölogy, a store of known
facts had been for ages accumulating, before they could rightly be called
sciences. To reach that distinction the quality and orderly arrangement
of the things known are as necessary as the quantity.

In the heading of this series of articles, “Circle” does not suggest the
rim of a wheel, or a curved line all the points of which are equally
distant from the center around which it is drawn, but rather a group
of sciences, just as “social circle,” and “circle of friends” indicate
the amicable relations of the persons without saying anything of their
positions in the place of their meeting. It is a goodly group, this
family of the sciences, and the members now so numerous and having
such distinctive characteristics will be introduced, not as a body but
severally, and in five classes: The Mathematical, Physical, Mental,
Moral, and Social Sciences. They hold such intimate relations with each
other, mutually giving and receiving aid, that we will not attempt to
keep the members of classes from mixing occasionally in our account of
them, as they often do in reality.

Mathematics is the science of quantities and numbers. Its principles are
of the first importance, and are of service in all the departments of
science. In several of its subdivisions, of which brief mention will be
made, it uses known quantities for the determination of those unknown,
reasoning from certain relations existing between them. The qualities
it discusses are represented by diagrams, figures, or symbols, adopted
for the purpose. It is customary to speak of _pure_ and _mixed_, or
_abstract_ and _applied_ mathematics; the former treating of laws,
principles, and relations in the abstract, or without any special
reference to anything as actual or existing. The latter discusses the
principles, laws and relations in connection with existing phenomena. The
operations with numbers and symbols in pure mathematics, dealing only
with abstract quantities, do not necessarily imply the idea of matter.
Those of the science as applied have much to do with material phenomena.
The elements that enter into the calculations in both cases are axioms or
self-evident truths, things that are known intuitively, or grasped by the
reason soon as presented, only in applied mathematics, used more or less
in all sciences, these same axiomatic, self-evident truths are employed
in the discussion of natural objects, the laws, properties, and relations
of which are learned mostly by experience and induction.

The sciences classed as pure mathematics are Arithmetic, Geometry,
Algebra, Analytical Geometry and Calculus. Arithmetic is eminently the
science of numbers, and treats of, or practically illustrates their
nature and uses. It employs the nine Arabic digits or figures with
the addition of the cipher, giving them various positions to express
numerical values, and not the native qualities or functions of the things
to which they are applied. The methods are the same, and the results
obtained equally true, whatever may be the nature of the quantities about
which inquiry is made. The elementary or fundamental idea in arithmetic
is unity, expressed by the figure 1, from which, with the help of the
other eight digits, and the individually valueless cipher, 0, expressions
for all the other values, whole or fractional, are formed.

As arithmetical processes underlie, or enter into, the work of nearly all
mathematical calculations, its great importance as a science is evident;
though as often taught in our schools and used in business, it is simply
a method of reckoning or computation.

Algebra is a kindred science, that, by the use of letters and symbols,
enables us to solve more readily all difficult questions relating to
numbers. It is, indeed, a kind of universal arithmetic. In the ordinary
arithmetic the numbers or figures employed, taken separately, have always
the same value, and the result, when, sometimes by a tedious process,
obtained, is applicable only to the particular question proposed, but
in solving the problem by algebra, since we employ letters to which any
values may be attributed at pleasure, the result obtained is largely
applicable to all questions of a particular class. Thus, having the sum
and difference of two quantities given, we readily obtain an algebraic
expression for the quantities themselves. By the new method the goal
is reached speedily, and the cabalistic terms, that may, at his first
attempts, perplex and discourage the young student, become his delight;
and in many difficult processes greatly shorten the work, enabling him
with ease to solve problems that to the common arithmetician are tedious,
if not impossible.

Geometry, one of the oldest of sciences, measures extension, treats of
order and proportion in space. Its working elements are not numbers or
symbols, but points, and lines, either straight or curved, and surfaces,
with volumes, or solids. The simpler problems, when successfully
demonstrated, are used in solving those more complicated, making the
progress easy.

Lines are made up of points, and have extension only in one direction.
Surfaces have length and breadth, and are distinguished as triangles,
quadrilaterals, polygons, etc., according to the number of lines that
circumscribe them. Solids have length, breadth, and thickness. From
a few elementary facts, much geometrical science has been deduced,
by very simple, logical processes. It is intimately related to other
sciences, and of much practical importance; but, if there were no other
advantage derived, as a discipline of the reasoning faculty there can
be nothing better. To pursue the study profitably there is little need
of an instructor. Class recitations are helpful, but let any one intent
on personal culture, and having only a little time for the work, get
a good elementary treatise on plane and solid geometry, and study it.
The exercise will become a delight, will give strength and grip to the
faculties, and furnish protection against the mental dissipation caused
by spending much time in the hasty, careless reading of what is fitly
called light literature.

Analytical geometry is that branch which examines, discusses and develops
the properties of geometrical magnitudes by the use of algebraic symbols.
The questions or problems are solved, not, as in plane geometry, by
diagrams or figures drawn to show certain relations of magnitudes, but by
making algebraic symbols represent them, and thus solving the problems.
Analysis is much used in simple algebraic processes, but more in
analytical geometry, and in differential and integral calculus, which has
been called the transcendental analysis. It is useful as a higher branch
of the science, and without it the best achievements of the greatest
mathematicians would scarcely have been possible. These last named
branches are generally best pursued in our higher academies and colleges.
A college course would be sadly deficient without them, but only for
exceptional cases would it be advisable to put them in a course of study
to be pursued privately.

If this brief mention of the higher mathematics kindles desire for
further knowledge, and you hesitate to grapple with them alone, by
all means go to college, and after a proper introduction, wherein the
chief embarrassment is felt, even calculus will be found an agreeable

Under the head of “Mixed Mathematics,” applicable to both laws or
abstract principles and facts, the discussion of things as actual
and possible, we have first, mechanics, the science that treats of
the various forces and their different effects. By _force_ is meant
any power that tends to prevent, produce, or modify motion. Three
are recognized—(1) gravitation, or the attraction of bodies toward
each other; (2) the cause, whatever it may be, of light, heat, and
electricity; (3) life, an equally mysterious power producing the actions
of animals and the growth of plants. These forces, though entirely unseen
and their causes unknown, are definite quantities. We readily conceive
of one force as equal to, or greater than another, and know that equal
forces, applied in opposite directions, balance each other. To everything
that moves there is force applied greater than the resistance to be
overcome. A number of forces may act on an object at the same time,
accelerating, retarding, or changing the direction of the motion given
to it. When the forces are so balanced as to hold the body on which they
act in a state of equilibrium, their action and consequent phenomena
are investigated under the head of STATICS, or the science which treats
of bodies at rest. When motion is produced, DYNAMICS considers the laws
that govern the moving bodies and the phenomena that result. These
branches of mechanical science are of great practical importance, and a
knowledge of them would save from many blunders and failures resulting
from incompetence. The same laws govern in the movement of all bodies,
whether solid or liquid. Hydrostatics, Hydrodynamics, Hydraulics, etc.,
are branches of the same science, and worthy of separate mention only
because they apply the general principles of statics and dynamics to the
phenomena of rest or motion in liquids. The foundation for all that is
peculiar in these branches with the lengthened names, and that together
may be called Hydro-mechanics, lies in the properties that distinguish
the liquid from other states of material bodies, whether gaseous or
solid, viz.: in the presence of cohesion, but with great mobility of
parts and more or less elasticity. Some peculiarities are so noteworthy
as to deserve mention even in this limited presentation. Because of the
only slight cohesive attraction, and entire freedom of motion among the
particles, liquid bodies possess no definite form of their own, but adapt
themselves to the form of the excavations or vessels containing them.
They, of course, vary much in their fluidity, the mobile liquids, as
water and alcohol, flowing more readily than molasses, heavy oils, and
tar. Fluids at rest press equally in all directions, upward, downward,
and laterally. In this, also, they differ from solids that press only
down, or in the direction of the center of gravitation. If not confined
they can not be heaped up, but their particles seek a common level. An
absolute water level is, of course, possible only when the area covered
is so limited that lines joining all the points on the surface with
the center of gravity are practically parallel, or their convergence
an inappreciable quantity. In large bodies of water, as the ocean, the
surface corresponds with the general rotundity of the earth.

The fact of the equal pressure of liquids in all directions, and with
the same intensity, is found of great importance in practical mechanics.
The strong pressure of a small column of water is finely illustrated
by simple experiment with the water bellows, or hydraulic paradox, in
which one pound of water in a tube lifts a hundred pounds on the top
of the bellows, and the greater the disproportion between the diameter
of the tube and that of the top of the bellows, the greater weight it
will raise. More than two hundred years ago Pascal showed the enormous
pressure exerted by a lofty column of water in a small tube. A strong
cask was filled with water, and a small tube forty feet high closely
fitted in its head, when a few pints of water poured into it burst the
cask, and would have done so if it had been made of the strongest oaken
staves and bound with hoops of iron. This is the power used in the
hydraulic press, a very simple machine of much value in the industrial
arts when there is a demand for great force that can be slowly and
steadily applied, as in compressing cloth, oil cake, paper, gunpowder
and numerous other things. Its parts are so few that it can be described
without a model to represent it. A small, upright cylinder, with a
closely fitting piston used as a pump to draw and force the water, and
connected at the base by a tube with a much larger cylinder directly
under the substance to be pressed, in which there is also a piston to
be moved upward, though water tight. The whole is secured in position
by powerful frame work. Beneath the piston the water is received. And
knowing the principles of hydrostatics we can estimate its power. If
the areas of the lower surfaces of the two pistons are to each other as
one to four hundred square inches, one pound pressure on the small one
will deliver to the lower surface of the large one a pressure equal to
four hundred pounds weight. But let the arms of the lever used as the
force pump handle be to each other as one to fifty. Then when a force
of fifty pounds is applied at the end of the long arm of the lever it
will descend with a force of 50×50=2,500, and there will be delivered on
the lower surface of the large piston a power to raise it expressed by
50×50×400=1,000,000. Some allowance must be made for friction or other
impediments, say one fourth, which is more than enough, and still a man
or boy at the end of that pump handle would be able to lift at least
three hundred and seventy-five tons.

The sciences we have been considering under the general name of
mechanics, which is derived from a Greek word that means to contrive,
invent, construct, have much to do with machinery, with the methods of
construction, the propelling forces, and the phenomena produced. There
were machinists and some simple machines propelled by human or brute
force, by weights and springs, by falling or running water, and air in
motion before the laws of motion and forces were understood, or the rude
mechanic arts began to assume the character of a science. The machines
were, of course, imperfect, and lacked efficiency, while many of those
now in use seem nearly perfect and adapted to the work expected of them.
But notwithstanding the marvelous advance that has been made in the
manufacture of machinery, and the intelligent application of mechanical
powers, we look for still greater things as possible in the future.

It is well, however, never to forget that whatever the seeming may be,
the most perfect machine of human invention does not create force. That
is as impossible for man as it is to give life or create matter. All he
can do is to collect, concentrate and use, to the best advantage, the
forces that exist. He may by skillful appliances gain a great mechanic
advantage, and overcome very formidable resistance, but he must be
content to do it very slowly; and it has been often said that “what he
gains in power he loses in speed.” In many cases this seems a necessity,
and he must submit to it. His simplest machine, if the fulcrum is placed
very near the weight, gives a man tremendous power gained by his position
at the long arm of the machine. But the point at which he applies the
force must move much faster and a greater distance than the object
against which it is directed. So when a man with a system of pulleys
raises to the top of a tower a block of granite that four men might lift
from the ground he sacrifices in speed what he gains in the new way of
applying the force he has for the purpose.

You visit a large manufacturing establishment or the mechanical
department of a great national or international industrial exposition and
see a whole acre of machinery of all kinds, shafts, wheels, saws, lathes,
and spindles in rapid motion, and, astonished at the complications,
inquire for the power that carries the whole. You will possibly find it
is in some remote part of the premises, and shut up in the motionless
boiler where the steam is said to be generated, which only means that the
water heated expands and struggles to escape from its confinement, while
man understanding the laws of its action manages to liberate the force
under conditions that make it his servant.

The science of numbers and magnitudes, useful in discussing the
distances, measurements, and motions of terrestrial bodies, is especially
so in its application to astronomy.

Astronomy as a physical science will receive consideration in the next
number; here only the mathematical elements are noticed, and they are
everywhere manifest. The same general laws control all material bodies,
those near to us, and those seen at a distance. So the science of the
stars is not now mere theory, but has all the elements of mathematical
certainty. When dealing with such vast numbers and magnitudes as engage
the astronomer’s attention, with a few known principles or laws, and
abundant recorded telescopic observations for the basis of their work,
men can calculate even more accurately than they can count or measure.
Having once prepared their theorem, aided by the logarithms of Napier[1]
that simplify and shorten the more difficult arithmetical calculations,
they can readily determine the distance, magnitude and motions of a
planet, and know that it is done with sufficient exactness. The distances
of the heavenly bodies are generally determined by their parallax, that
is the difference between the directions of the bodies as seen from two
different points. The inclination of the lines thus drawn is the angle
of parallax. By supposing the lines prolonged to the sun, and other
lines drawn through the points selected to the center of the earth a
quadrangle is formed, all the angles and sides of which are easily found.
In measuring very minute parallaxes it may not be possible to determine
the exact position of the body as projected on the celestial sphere, but
in that case recourse can be had to relative parallax, or the difference
between the parallaxes of two bodies lying nearly in the same direction.
The best opportunity for this is afforded by the transit of Venus, and
on this account great interest is felt in that phenomenon, and extensive
preparations are made for taking accurate observations.

The figure, size and density of the celestial bodies have all been
calculated with approximate certainty. The orbits, through which they
pass in their revolutions, described, and their velocities ascertained.

There is a solar system of which the sun is the center, and in its
relation to the planets stationary, though really moving on through
infinite space; the orbits through which planets move are not circles,
but more or less elliptic, having the sun at one focus of the ellipse.

That planets move in ellipses was announced by Kepler[2] as the first law
governing their motions, and a second deduced from this and confirmed by
observations, is that they do not move with equal velocity in all parts
of their orbits; and that _a line drawn from the center of the earth to
the center of the sun passes over equal spaces in equal times_. He also
found as a third law that _the squares of the times of the revolutions of
the planets are proportional to the cubes of their mean distances from
the sun_.

Navigation shows how vessels are directed in their course upon the great
waters. In proportion as the “paths of the seas” have become open, safe
and free for all, they are found paths of knowledge and civilization. The
science, small at its beginning, has grown to its present advanced state
by slow degrees, helped by contributions from the most opposite sources.
Practical but uneducated seamen have doubtless done much, as their
ingenuity is often, in emergencies, taxed to supply means of safety and
success that are wanting. More has been contributed by scholars, secluded
philosophic men whose lives are spent “in communion with the skies,”
in observing the motions of the heavenly bodies and studying the laws
by which they are regulated. But perhaps the most valuable service has
been rendered by another class who combine an experience of the sea with
much knowledge of astronomical science, men acquainted with the needs
of seamen and qualified to meet them. The introduction of the mariner’s
compass early in the fifteenth century was an epoch in the history of
navigation, as it made seamen in a measure independent of the sun and
stars. This was an incalculable advantage, as soon became apparent to
those who adopted the compass as their guide. Of the many improvements
and helps in the science of navigation we can only name, as conspicuous,
the invention of Mercator’s chart[3] in 1569, Davis’s quadrant[4] about
1600, and Hadley’s quadrant a century later. The character of the
instruments and a glance at the Nautical Almanac will show how largely
both mathematics and astronomy enter into the science of navigation. Nor
is it quite safe to take passage with a shipmaster who has but limited
knowledge of either. He should at least thoroughly understand his
instruments and be a ready, accurate computer.

Geometry grew out of the practice of surveying, and now embodies many
of the laws and principles of the science. There are several distinct
systems of surveying, classed according to the purposes contemplated.
It is astronomically employed in determining the figure of the earth
by the actual measurement of arcs. A fair knowledge of mathematics
and trigonometry is required in what are known as coast surveys. Land
surveying is of the plainest kind, and employed in finding the contents
of areas, or in dividing large tracts into lots of smaller dimensions.
The chief difficulty is in getting the exact bearing of the lines and the
measure of the angles when the plot is an irregular polygon.

Topographical surveying, beside the measurement of lines and angles,
takes note of variations of level, that the draft may properly represent
superficial inequalities. Maritime surveying is an important branch,
fixing the positions of shoals, rocks and shore-lines. Mine surveying
determines the location of works in the mine and decides whether the
excavations conform, as required, to lines on the surface. The compass
and chain are the surveyor’s most common instruments, but others are
used according to the nature of the surveys to be made. Incompetency or
carelessness in surveys often occasions serious trouble and loss.

Fortifications for the defense of cities and the protection of soldiers
are as ancient as the existence of armies. The former, built in time of
peace, of such form and materials as military science and experience
suggest, are called “permanent fortifications;” and the temporary
works constructed as the exigencies of a campaign require are “field
fortifications.” The art and science have been practiced and studied in
all ages, and there is now an immense literature on the subject.

As methods of defense must be adjusted to those of attack the earlier
permanent fortifications, in the progress of society and after the
introduction of artillery, became nearly worthless. High stone walls are
a protection while they stand, but, however strong, they can be battered
down by heavy siege guns that have less effect when directed against
earth works, which seem less formidable. A place thoroughly fortified is
seldom taken by a sudden assault. The United States have fortified less
than most of the great European nations, but are by no means defenseless.
Previous to 1860 there had been expended on our forts more than
$30,000,000; and all the exposed positions have been greatly strengthened
within the last twenty-five years.

_End of Required Reading for February._



    My Lady Lily, the waters sleep,
      And the winds are among the clover;
    Would I could hear the tale you told
    The Poet once, till with voice of gold
      Singing it over and over

    He came to the court and cried, “O king,
      My song of thy state and glory
    Is dead on my lips! I am done with strife,
    And courts, and conquests. A song of life
      I have learned from a water lily.”

    “Carol us then thy pretty song,
      Sir Poet!” the king cried, sneering;
    So standing stateliest of them all
    The length of the royal banquet hall,
      And flinging a look unfearing,

    Full on the king and his court, who sat
      Smiling in fine derision,
    He sang or chanted as chants a seer
    When sense is fading, and draweth near
      The high beatific vision.

    He sang of life in the soil of death,
      A seed of a heavenly sowing;
    Asleep in the murk and mire of earth,
    In silence waiting its wondrous birth,
      Of death or of life unknowing.

    He sang of the Sun of Life—His quest
      In our death-deeps dark and chilly;
    Of love that quickens to life the dead,
    As the sun rays seek in the river-bed
      The germ of the water lily.

    He sang of Faith—of the eye that seeks
      With a sightless aspiration
    The source of Love and the fount of Light,
    Till far in the folds of the utmost night,
      Storm-swept with fierce temptation,

    A light breaks through like a faint white star,
      That grows and grows like the dawning,
    Till, veiled in vapors, it hangs above
    The wakened soul as the face of Love,
      And Life has begun its morning.

    He sang of Life in the spring o’ day,
      Of patience, and truth, and duty,—
    The narrow ways to the full release,
    When, lapped in light and a dream of peace,
      It bursts as a flower to beauty.

    He sang—and his words fell thick and fast—
      Of the resurrection glory;
    Of good from evil, of life from death,
    And then, with hesitant, bated breath,
      The God-man’s marvelous story.

    Then silence fell on the king and court,
      And out through the open portal
    The poet passed with a solemn stride
    Into the midnight spaces wide,
      Or into the life immortal.

    My Lady Lily, you will not wake,
      Wrapped in your dreams Elysian,
    But this is the mystic tale you hold,
    Deep in your tremulous heart of gold;
      And this was the Poet’s vision.




    From the gay world we’ll oft retire
    To our own family and fire,
      Where love our hours employs;
    No noisy neighbor enters here
    No intermeddling stranger near,
      To spoil our heartfelt joys.

                                  —_N. Cotton._

The room which above all others should be furnished with the most loving
thought and lavish expense is the household parlor, or family sitting
room. Here the father reads his evening paper, the mother busies herself
with her ready needle, the children “with books, or work or healthful
play.” This should be to eye and body preëminently a restful room,
commodious, cheerful. If the reception room for visitors needs the cheer
of firelight, how much more the _living room_ of the household.

Whittier’s description of the homely comfort of an old New England farm
house remains unexcelled in the literature of house furnishing:

    “Shut in from all the world without
     We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
     Content to let the north wind roar
     In baffled rage at pane and door,
     While the red logs before us beat
     The frost line back with tropic heat;
     And ever, when a louder blast
     Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
     The merrier up its roaring draught
     The great throat of the chimney laughed.
     The house-dog on his paws outspread
     Laid to the fire his drowsy head,
     The cat’s dark silhouette on the wall
     A couchant tiger’s seemed to fall,
     And, for the winter fireside meet,
     Between the andiron’s straddling feet
     The mug of cider simmered slow,
     The apples sputtered in a row.
     And, close at hand, the basket stood
     With nuts from brown October’s wood.
     What matter how the night behaved?
     What matter how the north wind raved?
     Blow high, blow low, not all its snow
     Could quench our hearth-fire’s ruddy glow.”

For the sake of restfulness to the eye, the walls and carpet should be
neutral in tone, making a good background to the family figures; the wall
paper being of a good all-overish pattern that will not detract from
pictures that may hang on it, and the carpet or rug well mixed, of not
too loud a pattern, and without strong contrasts of light and dark. Blue
wall papers are hard to deal with, but creams, fawns, soft greenish or
olive-grays, and simple leaf patterns with slight variations of color
or shade are all good for walls that are to be hung with pictures, as
a sitting room should be. Common butchers’ paper, put on in sheets,
the better textured cartridge paper, or sheathing paper with a pretty
variation introduced by way of frieze or dado are all restful to the
eye and good for the sitting room walls. The greens used should not be
sharp and crude, but should be modified, making them yellowish, bluish,
or grayish. So with reds, which will be better yellowish, slightly
bluish (not purplish), or brownish; and yellows which must be modified
into creams, old-golds, or fawns. This rule is for large surfaces. A
little pure, bright color can be introduced here and there by way of
decoration, and must appear somewhere in the room if it is to have a
cheerful look, but wait till your pictures are hung before you introduce
much brilliant color. It may take the life out of them. Picture-rods are
a great convenience, and, after the first expense, save much trouble,
and much marring of walls by driving nails. The picture-rod should
run below the frieze, and a box of picture-hooks of suitable size for
the rods should be kept ready to hand, and picture-wire so that a new
painting or engraving when it comes home may find its place at once and
not stand on the floor for a month waiting till the master can drive
a nail. As for the wall decorations, there should be a looking-glass
for family convenience either in this parlor or the entry way (the
parlor is the better place), and the best pictures the house affords,
always making sure that they are good pictures. Better always a good
photograph, or wood-cut, or etching, than a poor chromo, steel engraving,
or water-color; and better, a hundred fold, a good water-color than a
poor oil painting. If your family portraits are poor, consign them to the
garret or the upstairs hall, but, if possible, have at least one good
painting in your home-room, even if it does cost money; and remember that
a first-hand sketch by a good living artist is better than a second-hand
copy of an old master. But one good painting in a house, whether a copy
or an original, is a continual art lesson. A woman of taste will not
mix all manner of pictures together on one wall. If possible, she will
keep oil paintings by themselves, and not put them in juxtaposition with
water-colors—nor will she put a picture suited only to a gallery in a
family sitting room. Nor will she put Bacchantes in the same group with
worshiping cherubs. There is a vast deal of stuff purely ephemeral that
women are apt to load their walls with—Christmas, New Year, Easter and
birthday cards, and painted panels, which may do very well to exhibit
during the holidays or the day or two after the birthday; then, having
had their day, they should cease to obtrude if not to be. There should be
a box or receptacle for all this clutter; such souvenirs are admirable
for their suggestions to the amateur decorator or embroiderer of the
family, but they should not be allowed to spot the walls, to hang from
the side brackets or to decorate the looking-glass. “God bless our home”
is a devout aspiration which is better carried out in a godly life than
worked in cross-stitch and hung over the sitting room door. I have seen
Scripture texts deftly inwrought into the mural decoration of a sea-side
cottage, verses from the sailors’ Psalm being painted in a decorative
way between border lines of frieze or dado, where they did not seem out
of place, but the summer boarders were well nigh driven from another
cottage because of a card-board abomination hung over the mantel piece
of their sitting room, with indigo clouds and grass-green waves, with
a three-quarters-length Christ in all colors of the rainbow uttering
the magic words worked in shaded reds—“Peace, Be Still.” The matter
of mottoes has been overdone, and it is always safe to leave them out

Paintings upon plush must be exceedingly good to make them worth hanging
anywhere. Usually such decoration is a waste of expensive material.
Any way, plush is too easily spoiled by dust or careless handling
to make it welcome in the family room. Painting upon picture and
looking-glass frames is another misuse of decoration. A London artist
with rare ingenuity paints a stalk of lilies to hide a flaw in his
hall mirror, and straightway the “Decorative Art” salesrooms all over
our land effloresce with blooming mirror frames whose unpruned vines
straggle and trail over every glass. The beauty of a mirror is to have
it absolutely clear and free from dust and dirt, finger marks or paint
blotches, throughout its entire surface. Flower painting in polychrome
upon frames and easels is utterly out of place, as it calls the eye off
from the picture which the frame or easel holds, and reminds one of a
servant decked out in finery surreptitiously borrowed from her mistress’s

Marble mantel pieces, to be good, must be expensive. A simple pine
mantel piece with a little incised ornament is far better than white or
cold gray marble. Raised, stuck-on ornament is objectionable, whether
in wood or stone, but mantel pieces, book-cases and cabinets give a
fine opportunity for domestic carving, and one can but wonder that
more home ingenuity is not expended on the construction and carving of
mantels and other woodwork in our rooms, such as doors and windows. I
have seen a wooden mantel piece small, plain, and somewhat cheap and
inferior-looking, so improved by a little carving, judiciously introduced
by the man of the house—a small panel set in here, and the edge of the
shelf prettily finished—that the whole thing grew dignified at once and
became a worthy ornament of the “spare room,” when painted in harmony
with the rest of the woodwork. The youngest whittlers might be taught to
use tools for the family good, if parents were only willing to go to a
little trouble and expense in providing models, tools and wood for their
use, and a comfortable chimney nook where the work could be carried on.
In the schools of Philadelphia Mr. Leland has shown how much may be done
by boys and girls when their efforts are wisely directed.

When there is no room in the house specially set apart as a library,
cabinets and book cases form an important part of the sitting room
furniture. I would have book shelves of some sort in every room of a
house; but in the room where the family gathers there should be a special
shelf for books of reference. An encyclopædia is of as much value to the
household as a wood lot is to the farm. Better wear your old silk gown or
shabby overcoat another year, or two years even, and have your book of
reference always at hand for the general good. The unabridged dictionary
is a necessity, and should stand in its rack easy of access to school
children and their elders as well. A household book of poetry, Dana’s or
Bryant’s, or whatever may be better, and an equally comprehensive volume
of religious verse like Gilman’s, or Palgrave’s choice “Golden Treasury,”
should be well thumbed by the children, and should be placed temptingly
at hand, not locked behind glass doors. Glazed doors are demanded by
collectors who revel in vellum, uncut leaves, and rare editions, but
cases that are well backed and that have leathern, or even moreen or
flannel, valences tacked to the shelves, will serve well enough to
protect books in a house where all the reading matter is for daily use or

A low book case three or four feet high and broad enough to fill a
generous wall space, running, if need be, across one side of the room,
may be found ample enough for a family whose library is limited. Pictures
and vases can be ranged upon its top. I know a room that holds three
or four such book cases of ebonized pine, filled with books and made
gay with valences of scarlet moreen, which yet scorns to be called “the
library,” and is only known as the family “sitting room.” Valences of
leather or wool are sufficient to protect the books from dust if the
cases are well backed.

In addition to the book case, hanging shelves for children’s books, or
cabinets for collections of any sort, can be made of pine, and when
absolutely plain, if neatly varnished, need not prove unsightly. They may
even be made very ornamental by a bright curtain, plain or embroidered,
with rings attached that run lightly over a brass rod or wire, and screen
the contents of the shelves from the too inquisitive eye.

It is really a happy day for a household when one of its members develops
a hobby and begins to make a collection—not of buttons or business cards,
but of something on which genuine study will not come amiss, and there is
hardly any line in which one is likely to interest himself where he may
not often pick up for a mere trifle much that will be of special value to
his collection, much that, by itself, would be comparatively worthless,
but which in a collection has added worth and dignity; and any collection
makes a new point of interest in a home. In a quiet country town where I
once lived, the boys of the village took to collecting butterflies and
insects. Farmers carried turpentine or benzine in their pockets, and
would come home from their haying fields with hats gay with the captured
moths and butterflies they were taking to the collectors of their
several households. Thus homes hitherto utterly wanting in any æsthetic
influence, seemed to brighten into something positively charming, when
father and mother, son and daughter clustered about the drawers in the
front parlor, exhibiting to any chance visitor the fragile treasures so
carefully arranged within them, and when a new specimen was captured the
collector would

            “Run it o’er and o’er with greedy view,
    And look and look again, as he would look it through.”

Think of the many lines in which the collector may work! The postage
stamp craze was by no means to be despised; it was a good geography
lesson for the children, and well up to the times, throwing in a little
history as well. Coin collecting is yet more profitable in the same
lines, and when confined to the coins of one’s own land, gives a wide
enough range for the average collector. For the out-of-door student there
are shells, sea mosses and birds’ eggs, flowers to press, and minerals
to secure. One boy hunts up Indian relics, another collects weapons of
various sorts, from

    “The old queen’s arm which Gran’ther Young
     Fetched back from Concord, busted,”

to an Australian boomerang or a South Sea Island club brought by the
sailor uncle from some voyage of long ago. One dear, old lady has a
choice collection of bits of lace all dated and named; another of
pieces of brocade, an admirable commentary on silk manufactory. Here we
find a treasurer of fans, and there of snuff-boxes; here of children’s
photographs, and there of photographs or autographs of famous men; and
everywhere, all over our land, will be found the covetous collector of
rare, old china and pottery. Let the children be encouraged to interest
themselves in some such lines as these, not so as to make nuisances of
themselves and museums of their homes—there will be little danger of
that—but enough to give them a wholesome enthusiasm in some particular
line of study. A vast deal of general information is disseminated through
a household, unconsciously absorbed, as it were, when each one has a
hobby of his own, and gives out of his choicest discoveries for the
common good.

As to the sitting room furniture, there are a few essentials that must
be emphasized. There should be a table large enough for half a dozen
people to sit around of an evening—a round one is best—strong, solid,
and covered with a serviceable cloth. There are handsome woolen table
covers that grow yet handsomer with age as their colors mellow together,
but the best is expensive. A square of plain felt does very well, and
is in better taste than the scarlet and green felt cloths stamped with
black figures that were so prevalent twenty years ago. A figured cloth
shows spots less than a plain one. If a mat of some sort, or even a
newspaper, is always laid down under any lamp that burns kerosene, and if
a blotter is always used where writing or painting is going on, a plain
cloth ought to last for years. Light should abound where the family sit
together, sunlight by day and good gas or lamp light by night should be
generously supplied. A good duplex burner or a double student lamp uses
no more oil than several small lamps dotted down here and there, about
the room, and it brings the family together about the central table. So
with the drop light, which is an essential where gas is used. The wise
woman discards gas in her sitting room, however, and uses good oil,
which is far better for the eyes. There should be a writing desk in the
room. The old-fashioned secretary was a valuable piece of sitting room
furniture, and many a good one has been recalled from the attic within
the last few years, and, by a judicious use of soda water, has been freed
from old paint, and when scrubbed and rubbed, it has shone as good as
new, and much more useful than the modern Davenport. There should be
large, easy chairs, not too low, for the use of the men of the house,
and for elderly people who find it hard to rise gracefully and with ease
from soft, low chairs. There should also be low chairs with broad seats,
and short arms, or none at all, for those who must busy themselves with
sewing, knitting, and embroidery, and comfortable camp chairs that can
be lightly lifted by the children and carried here and there about the
room. Let the chairs, in fact let everything be strong and comfortable
in this room. A heavy man is often put to great inconvenience because
the chairs at his disposal are too flimsy to bear his weight. There are
countless stories told of the Rev. Phillips Brooks, and men of his build,
who dare not laugh at a dinner party lest their chairs resolve themselves
into kindling wood at the first mirthful shake. In my own parlor there is
one chair deep, broad, and of marvelous strength, bought with an eye to
the needs of a friendly neighbor of grand dimensions. “This is a chair
that Mr. B. can’t break,” said the kindly donor who had witnessed the
collapsing of ordinary parlor chairs under his ponderous weight. Remember
that no chair should be expected to do service that has not connecting
rungs between the legs.

There should be, also, a lounge or sofa in this room, with ample pillow,
not a round horse-hair cylinder, but something useful, restful, and not
too fine. Let the color be as perfect as may be, but if the material
of which it is made be really too splendid for daily use, its glories
should be veiled behind a strong, washable tidy. I have seen a gray linen
square or towel, with drawn work at the ends, such as costs fifty cents,
perhaps, at the linen shops, with a few long-stemmed poppies bending
together in a row at one end, wrought in outline, with the familiar
legend, “We are all nodding, nid, nid, nodding,” running sleepily down
the center. That had just sentiment enough, and art enough for its place
and use. Tidies are mere clutter if not intended to be brushed against
and used. Paintings on blue satin, decked out with lace, are out of taste
in any room, however fine, and out of place on any chair. No chair should
be too daintily dressed out to be sat upon; and no painting should so
hang as to invite shoulders clad in black broadcloth to rub themselves
against it. “Tidies” or “chair backs,” if used at all, should be of a
firm material, not easily crumpled, should be firmly attached, should
give off little or no lint, and should be washed when they are soiled, or
thrown away. They are better when off the white.

There should be a wrap of some sort, afghan, Mexican or army blanket,
railway rug or shawl thrown over the foot of the sofa, with which to
cover up the invalid of the household, or any one who is tempted to
lounge awhile.

Other sitting room comforts, though not essentials, are a sewing table,
stand or basket with drawers or pockets attached, for the convenience of
needlewomen, a portable screen, two-leaved and not too large, that can
shut off draughts from rheumatic shoulders, and an occasional hassock or
footstool—“crickets” our grandmothers called them in New England.

The covering of tables, chairs, etc., affords an opportunity to introduce
color into the room, but it is not at all necessary that the chairs
should all be covered with stuffs of the same quality or color. Unless
very well chosen, plain colors are apt to stare, like the sharp green
“rep” that was so long popular, and whose good wearing qualities made it
so hard to displace. If the manufacturers had only kept pace with the
times, and produced the stuff in good, plain shades that would keep their
colors, or figured in good designs, it would still hold its own against
all the so-called tapestry goods that the upholsterers offer us. “Rep,”
however, was utterly unsuitable for curtains; it was stiff and wiry, and
hung in ungainly folds.

For our sitting room some light drapery at the windows is advisable. If
the room has no blinds, there should be some sort of thick shades or
venetian blinds. There is a yellowish brown holland that is admirable
for the purpose; but with outside or inside blinds, a thin curtain like
Madras muslin is all that is necessary to shade the blackness of the
windows at night, or to temper the brightness of the sunlight by day. The
advantage of Madras muslin or Cretan cloth over lace, muslin, or cheese
cloth curtains lies in the color and figure; colored and figured curtains
showing to better advantage against the light than plain white, and
looking fresher much longer; they “furnish” a room more.

Whatever curtains are used, they should be hung with rings from rods of
brass, bamboo, or wood—varnished pine is good enough—so that they can
be pushed entirely to one side with ease. Rods should not be too large
and should be finished at the ends with some simple ornament, as a plain
ball which pulls off at one end, so as to allow the rings to slip over
the rod. The curtains may be long, if hung outside the window frame, and
just reach the floor, or they may hang from the upper sash and just reach
to the window ledge, so as to cover only the window; or they may be half
curtains hanging from a small rod or wire so as to screen only the lower
sash. It is not at all necessary to treat the windows alike. A bay window
may have a long, heavy curtain running across the bay and forming a nook
where two or three may sit cosily together, and the other windows may be
treated to sash or half-sash curtains of soft silk, Madras muslin, or
even Turkey red calico. Where a window is filled with plants, the little
half curtain running upon a brass wire and falling over the lower sash
serves, on winter nights, as a slight protection for the plants from
outer air, and can be thrust to one side by day, and tucked up out of
sight. A little drapery is a great relief in a room where there are bare
floors and much display of woodwork in doors and window frames. Then,
a portière in place of a closet door, a hanging before a book case, or
curtains at the windows would relieve the bareness of the room as nothing
else could. Curtains should not repeat the color of the walls, nor should
portières be of the same material and color as the curtains. Woodwork,
however, when painted should repeat the wall color, though it should be
somewhat lighter in shade.

There lacks but little to make our home parlor complete. A piano, if
practice thereon will not interfere with the occupancy of the room by
the household; otherwise let the piano be kept where music lessons given
and studied will not disturb the family serenity; for many reasons the
drawing room is the best place for the piano, it is more likely to be
treated with respect by mischievous fingers there than in the living
room; and a clock, the plainer the better—no little French fanciful
affair, but something substantial, that can last like the tall, ancestral
eight-day time piece. Should the clock stand on the mantel it is not
essential to have balancing ornaments on either side. The choicest
treasures of the house should indeed adorn the mantel piece, but it is
never necessary to have two of a kind standing at equal distances from
the center.

This is the room in which all things should seem to grow into a likeness
to the household, and to grow old with it. Here no changes should be made
but for good cause, and always for the better, never by the wholesale.
Nor should furniture be introduced that is so staringly new and gay as to
put the rest out of countenance and make it look shabby by comparison.
There are plenty of good stuffs subdued enough in color to harmonize
with any long used parlor, no matter how old the carpet nor how faded
the chair seats. Whatever is good and old, though worn, let us respect,
preserve, and repair.



U. S. Senator from Illinois.

To bring to light and expose to public gaze our national defects or
social deformities is an unpleasant and generally thankless task, but
so long as we shirk it, just so long will they remain to our national
detriment and disgrace. To be conscious of disease, to locate and
properly diagnose it, is to be half-way on the road to good health.

It is not necessary in this age of enlightenment to dwell upon the
manifest and manifold advantages to a people and to a nation, of
education. They are palpable, and conceded by all men. Illiteracy,
then, must as plainly be a disadvantage to a nation, a hindrance to
the advancement and welfare of its people, and an evil which should be

We Americans boast, and boast rightfully, of the high position in the
scale of intelligence we occupy as a people; but pride in that fact
should not blind our eyes to our existing imperfections. We are proud of
the attainments of our men of letters; we rejoice in the achievements of
our scientists and inventors; we glory in our rapid advance among the
nations to wealth and power; and we fail to give serious heed to the
hundreds of thousands of our people who are growing up every year in
clouded ignorance, without even the rudiments of education.

If we examine with care our census returns and the reports of our
Bureau of Education, we will be startled by some of the facts they
reveal. To follow many of these revelations in detail might lead to an
accusation of making invidious distinctions, but there are enough to
which the attention of the country may be called without the shadow of
justification for such a charge. Let us look at these.

Take the Bulletin of “Illiteracy in the United States,” as returned at
the tenth census, and its first line reveals the deplorable fact that of
the 36,761,607 persons of ten years of age and upward, 4,923,451 (over
one-seventh) are unable to read, and 6,239,958 (nearly one-sixth) are
unable to write.

It appears, moreover, from other census tabulations presented[D] to the
United States Senate that, of the 50,155,783 persons constituting our
population in 1880, there were equally proportioned between the white
and colored races, 4,204,363 of both sexes over twenty-one years of age
unable to write, or about 2,000,000 “illiterates” out of the 10,000,000
persons at that time entitled to vote; or, in other words, one of every
five voters in the United States unable to write his name. From other
statistics of that census it appears also that 1,640,000 voters were
unable to read. Thus we have the astounding assurance that while one in
every five voters can not write the ballot that he wishes to deposit, one
in every six voters can not even read the ballot that he places in the

It is this one illiterate voter in every five (or six) voters who holds
the balance of power at our elections.

While a very large proportion of our population, and also of that portion
of it which exercises the elective franchise, can both read and write,
yet a great number of these are very little the more intelligent because
their limited ability to do either or both is so imperfect and so rarely
availed of. Alluding to these, a committee of the United States Senate
(Report 101, Pt. 2, first session, Forty-eighth Congress), said: “Of
those who can write, multitudes do not place a sentence on paper twice in
a lifetime. Thousands never get an idea from the printed page.” Yet these
are the men who may at any time subject the country to their control—men
who hold the weighty balance of political power.

To the patriot, to the lover of republican institutions, to the advocate
of unrestricted individual suffrage, this fact is appalling. But it is
none the less a fact that should be known. Nor may the advocates of
monarchical systems of government and of restricted suffrage take comfort
from that fact. That the deciding ballot in our political contests may
be an ignorant one does not prove the evil or folly of unrestricted
suffrage. Not at all. Cancer in the breast does not prove the folly of
life. Nor is a jammed finger necessarily fatal. These simply remind us
that in the one case the knife, and in the other the lotion, should be
quickly and efficiently used. So with the ignorant ballot. Its existence
merely proves the absolute necessity of prompt and vigorous action to
enlighten it—of educating him who casts it—of taking counsel from the
past and present and providently guarding the future. It teaches us
that while we are properly horrified at any desecration of the sacred
right of suffrage—whether by bulldozing, ballot-box stuffing, false
counting, or other methods of intimidation or of fraud—it is high time
to arouse ourselves to a state of facts existing around us and under our
very noses, constituting a sacrilege only differing from these others
in degree; to realize, in time to remedy it, that at every election
we witness, at almost every voting precinct in the land, a constant,
never-failing, almost winked-at desecration by power-clad ignorance of
that right; to realize the great dangers from this source that we have
thus far happily escaped; to properly apprehend the possible perils thus
stored up for us in the bosom of the future, and by timely, energetic and
sufficient action to arrest them. Thus the very knowledge that one in
every five of our voters exercises ignorantly this undue and prodigious
power must nerve a free and enlightened people to make immediate and
adequate provision both to aid and to make obligatory the elementary
education of those who in due time will inherit from us the right of

It can not be too often or too strongly urged, under the light of
this revelation from the census returns, that an ignorant ballot is
a dangerous ballot, because it may be at once heedless, and easily
deceived; that an educated ballot is, to the degree of education, an
enlightened ballot—possibly wrong-headed or mistaken at times, but
as a rule careful, brave and pure; and that, as the ballot is placed
in the hands of all Americans, education—the means by which they may
discriminatingly cast that ballot—should be open and free to all.

The very existence of the Republic depends upon the proper use of the
potential ballot. Education alone can teach that proper use. Hence it is
that “education to all” is the chief corner stone of the Republic; and
to make that secure, no effort however great, no expense however large,
should be withheld.

Here then, with the fact staring us in the face, that the one potential
vote of every five votes that decides all the great political questions
of the day—questions involving the most complex and far-reaching
principles of government—questions of finance, of diplomacy, of commerce,
of trade, of the tariff, of the relations of capital and labor, and
others whose solution perplexes the minds of our very ablest statesmen—is
an utterly ignorant vote, can the American people hesitate to demand of
Congress not only immediate but adequate remedial legislation in the
shape of ample national aid to elementary education for all of school
age, and obligatory attendance within reasonable limits?

But this is not the only fact bearing heavily upon the question of the
necessity of national aid to our public school system. If we examine
the details of these census tabulations we shall find that much the
larger portion of this illiteracy is found in some thirteen or fourteen
states. Taking these states and territories in which the proportion of
“illiterates” (those unable to write) to the total state or territorial
population of ten years of age and upward exceeds 25 per cent., we find
that ratio to be: In Alabama, 50.9 per cent.; Arkansas, 38; Florida,
43.4; Georgia, 49.9; Kentucky, 29.9; Louisiana, 49.1; Mississippi, 49.5;
New Mexico, 65; North Carolina, 48.3; South Carolina, 55.4; Tennessee,
38.7; Texas, 29.7; and Virginia, 40.6. Massing these twelve states and
one territory together, we find they include a population of 10,079,130
of ten years of age and upward, of which number no less than 4,324,513,
or over two fifths, are unable to write—forty-three out of every one
hundred unable to sign their own names—while of the 26,682,477 persons
of like age in the remaining states and territories, the number of such
illiterates is but 1,915,445, or a little over seven in every one hundred.

We are all of course aware that this large proportion of illiteracy
in the states named is largely owing to the presence of the colored
population. Nevertheless the fact remains that these people, to whom all
the rights of citizenship have been accorded, and who will hereafter form
a very important and possibly predominating factor in the administration
of the affairs of many of these states, as well as an important factor in
national affairs, must remain for a long time in ignorance unless some
other means of educating them be adopted than that which now obtains.

But let no one deceive himself with the idea that this undue and
lamentable ratio of illiteracy in these particular states is due wholly
to the presence of the colored population. Unfortunately illiteracy
prevails to a very considerable and almost an alarming extent among their
native white population also. Thus the census tabulations show that
the proportion of “illiterates” (those unable to write), in the total
native white population, ten years of age and upward, is: In Alabama, 25
percent.; Arkansas, 25.5; Florida, 20.7; Georgia, 23.2; Kentucky, 22.8;
Louisiana, 19.8; Mississippi, 16.6; New Mexico, 64.2; North Carolina,
31.7; South Carolina, 22.4; Tennessee, 27.8; Texas, 13.9; and Virginia,
18.5. Massing them we find that of the 6,010,714 native whites, ten years
of age and upward, within the territorial limits mentioned, there are as
many as 1,395,441—being 23.2 per cent., or nearly one in every four of
the whites—unable to write. It is evident, therefore, that the surprising
illiteracy in these states is not wholly attributable to the presence
therein of the colored race.

It is somewhat humiliating to have to confess to the world by our own
official figures that one out of every four of the native whites over ten
years of age in twelve states and one territory of our Republic is unable
to write his own name, especially when we compare it with the additional
fact, derived from the same tabulation, that the illiteracy of the
foreign born of these same localities does not rise in any instance above
10.9 per cent.

Turning to the other side of the picture we may find some grains of
comparative consolation in observing the fact that of the remaining
19,775,075 native whites, ten years of age and upward, in the United
States only 860,019—or 4.3 per cent., being one in twenty-three—are
unable to write. This favorable condition of one part of the country,
however, only serves to bring out in sharper contrast the sad condition
of the other part, and should spur the philanthropist and statesman to
renewed and more strenuous effort to obliterate, or at least ameliorate,
this alarming sectional inequality in the degree of illiteracy.

Were it not for the hope of ultimately removing this inequality by
attaining an educational homogeneity or equality on the higher level
as between the sections, one might almost be tempted to wish for an
educational equalization on the lower grade; for as long as that
inequality continues to exist, so long must it prove a source of
irritation and danger in a thousand forms.

As to the situation in the old slave states, where the colored population
is proportionately large, it is not difficult to understand it. We can
appreciate the dread on the part of the whites of an “uprising,” as it
is termed, of the colored people. But the words of Jefferson[E]—possibly
prophetic unless averted by the exercise of wisdom and fairness—have in
them a depth of meaning that none but those whites can fully realize
when, speaking of the slaves, he says: “And can the liberties of a
nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a
conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift
of God? That they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed I
tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that his justice
can not sleep forever; that considering numbers, nature and natural means
only, a _revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation is
among the possible events_; that it may become probable by supernatural
interference! The Almighty has no attribute which can take sides with us
in such a contest.”

Aside from the overawing influence of a large standing army there is
but one thing that can prevent a race-conflict, the very possibility of
which we dread to contemplate, and that is the benign and liberalizing
influence of education, resulting in a free and untrammeled exercise
of the elective franchise. Give the former and you will unquestionably
secure the latter.

That the local as well as sectional inequality in education can be
overcome by no other means than by national aid, will be further
demonstrated. Nor is it just that we should expect or ask it to be
otherwise. No matter now what may have caused this inequality, the fact
that it exists is that which now momentously concerns us. We know it
can not be removed by recurring to the cause; and it will become more
and more evident as we examine the subject that only by speedy and
efficient congressional action can we now insure that future educational
equilibrium, not only between the races and between the sections, but
also between the people in each state, which will have so important a
bearing upon the destinies of this nation, and is so essential to the
continued peace, prosperity and contentment of its people.

Another fact of great importance, as bearing upon the necessity for
national aid to education, is revealed by the census returns. It is a
curious as well as an important revelation, because it shows that the
ratio of children or persons under twenty-one years of age to the adults,
is considerably larger in some states than in others, and correspondingly
increases the educational burden.

The principle involved in this condition of affairs may be simply
illustrated thus: Suppose the head of each family had to pay directly for
the education of his own children. Then, even with an equality of means,
the burden would, as a matter of course, fall heavier on the one with a
numerous than the one with a small progeny.

To make apparent the effect of this inequality in the proportion of
minors to adults in different parts of our common country, let us suppose
that the mean average cost of schooling is four dollars per annum for
each child.

It appears that in Connecticut, out of every one hundred persons,
fifty-nine are adults, and forty-one are minors. At this supposed rate,
then, the fifty-nine adults would have each to pay two dollars and
seventy-eight cents per annum in order to make up the one hundred and
sixty-four dollars per annum needed for the education of the forty-one
children. It appears also that in South Carolina, out of every one
hundred persons, forty-three are adults and fifty-seven are minors. At
the supposed rate, then, these forty-three adults would have each to
pay five dollars and thirty cents per annum in order to make up the two
hundred and twenty-eight dollars per annum needed for the education of
the fifty-seven children.

Now, this is a very important fact, indeed, and must lead all fair minded
advocates of education to modify somewhat the criticisms they may have
made touching the expenditure in the South for education as compared with
that in the North and West; for here it becomes palpable that two dollars
and seventy-eight cents per adult in Connecticut is equivalent to five
dollars and thirty cents per adult in South Carolina for the schooling of
the children respectively, in those states. Nearly twice as much in one
state as in the other.

But this result is from an assumed uniform mean average standard of the
cost of educating each child in the Union. Let us test the matter by a
comparison founded on actual cost. Take, for instance, the states of
Maine and Mississippi.

In Maine there are fifty-eight adults to forty-two minors in every
one hundred persons. In Mississippi there are forty-three adults to
fifty-seven minors in every one hundred persons. In Maine[F] the
educational expenditure per capita of the school population is four
dollars and sixty-seven cents per annum. This enforces an annual
expenditure for this purpose of three dollars and thirty-eight cents by
each adult. An equal school tax of four dollars and sixty-seven cents per
annum for each scholar, imposed upon the adult population of Mississippi
would call for six dollars and nineteen cents from each adult—or nearly
twice what the adult of Maine must pay.

The effects of this disparity will be more fully dwelt upon at a later
period. But it must surely be already apparent that this inequality of
the educational burden created by the disparity existing between the
populations of various portions of our country can alone be met and
remedied by some aid from the general government.

It is true that the facts thus far adduced indicate rather the necessity
for national assistance to certain sections or states than for general
and uniform aid to all. But a further study and the development of other
facts will, as we proceed, more fully reveal, not alone the wisdom and
necessity of such aid to all, but the character and extent of the aid

Before we reach that period, however, there are facts touching other
phases of inequality of burden that are worthy of close and careful

Careful tabulations from the census returns show that a school enrollment
of 22.4 per cent. of the total population of Missouri amounts to but 88.6
per cent. of the school population of that state, fixing the standard of
school age as between six and sixteen years; while a school enrollment
of 22 per cent. of the total population of New Jersey is equal to[G]
101.5 per cent. of her school population. Hence, although Missouri has a
somewhat larger percentage in school of her total population than has New
Jersey, yet she lacks more than 11 per cent. of having all her children
of school age enrolled as scholars; while a slightly smaller per cent. of
her total population places more than all the school age children of New
Jersey in school. So also with Vermont, where a school enrollment of 22
per cent. of the total population gives 109.5 per cent. in school, of all
of school age.

Comparing Nebraska and Connecticut, we find that while 22.3 per cent. of
the total population of the former state enrolled in the schools amounts
to but 95.4 per cent. of her children of school age, 21.3 per cent. of
the total population of the latter state enrolled in the schools is
equivalent to 110.3 per cent. of her children of school age.

Massachusetts has to send 19.2 per cent. of her total population to
school in order to equal 104.8 per cent. of her children of school age,
while Illinois has to send to school 24.5 per cent. of her population to
reach a like ratio of enrolled scholars to children of school age.

Even in states situated so near to each other as Pennsylvania and
New York we observe this inequality. In the former, where the school
enrollment is 22.8 per cent. of the total population, it is but 99.4 per
cent. of the children of school age, while in New York 23 per cent. of
the total population enrolled in the schools is 112.4 per cent. of her
children of school age.

Thus far have been selected for comparison some of those states the
ratios of whose school enrollment to the total population were about the
same. But while these contrasts bring out very clearly the inequality in
the burden of educating the children of our country, yet there are more
marked illustrations at hand.

Take Arkansas, West Virginia and New York, for instance. In Arkansas the
school enrollment is 13.5 per cent. of population, and but 51.3 per cent.
of the children of school age. At the same ratio a school enrollment of
23 per cent. of total population in Arkansas would be but 87.4 per cent.
of the children of school age. West Virginia has a school enrollment of
23.3 per cent. of total population, which is only 87.9 per cent. of her
children of school age. Yet New York, as we have already seen, by an
enrollment of 23 per cent. of her total population secures schooling for
113.3 per cent.—more than all—of her children of school age.

Comparing other states, one with the other—such as Alabama with Maine,
Georgia with New Hampshire, Tennessee with Rhode Island, Mississippi
with Massachusetts, etc.—we see similar, and in some cases even greater

Let us now apply these facts practically, and thus reach a clearer
understanding of the effect of this great disparity.

The actual mean average cost of the schooling of each public school
scholar in the United States is about ten dollars. Assuming then that
the adult population of each state bears the burden of educating its
children, and that all the children of school age in each state are
enrolled in the schools—as they should be—let us ascertain how much the
tax per capita would be on the adults bearing this burden in each state
and territory. In other words, let us discover how much in each state and
territory must every adult (male or female) pay every year in order to
supply the ten dollars per annum that it costs to educate each and every
child in that state or territory.

It would cost each adult in Montana, $1.95; in Wyoming, $2.12; Nevada,
$2.12; Colorado, $2.20; Arizona, $2.34; New Hampshire, $2.78; Idaho,
$3.00; Massachusetts, $3.23; Dakota, $3.30; Rhode Island, $3.22;
California, $3.33; Connecticut, $3.27; Maine, $3.43; Vermont, $3.46; New
York, $3.56; District of Columbia, $3.77; Washington, $3.94; New Jersey,
$4.02; Michigan, $4.15; Oregon, $4.29; Delaware, $4.31; Pennsylvania,
$4.26; Ohio, $4.55; Maryland, $4.55; Nebraska, $4.77; Minnesota, $4.70;
New Mexico, $4.65; Wisconsin, $4.86; Illinois, $4.88; Indiana, $5.00;
Iowa, $5.10; Missouri, $5.28; Kansas, $5.32; Louisiana, $5.54; North
Carolina, $5.67; Virginia, $5.59; Texas, $5.86; Kentucky, $5.65; Florida,
$5.78; Utah, $6.07; Alabama, $6.12; Arkansas, $6.12; Georgia, $5.98;
South Carolina, $5.98; Tennessee, $6.00; West Virginia, $5.86, and
Mississippi, $6.28—while, massing the entire Union, the cost to each
adult in it would be $4.70.

Thus we find that while the school tax on each adult in New York would
be but $3.56, in the adjoining state of Pennsylvania it would be $4.26;
that while in Massachusetts it would be but $3.23, in Illinois it would
be $4.88—a difference of $1.65 per capita to the adult; that while in New
Hampshire it would be but $2.78, in Mississippi it would be more than
double that amount. But the reader can himself, by a glance at the list
presented, perceive even more glaring inequalities than these in the
relative burdens which would be imposed upon the adult population of the
various states and territories, were that burden to be placed entirely on
their shoulders.

If it be the true policy of a nation to equalize, as far as possible,
the necessary burdens imposed upon its people, then we certainly have
before us in these statistics, a condition of facts demanding serious
consideration and efficacious action by the general government.

If inequality in the burdens imposed in order to educate our children be
any argument in favor of national aid to education—and who will venture
to deny it?—then we have in these statistics positive evidence of very
great and possibly hitherto unsuspected inequalities; inequalities of
which none could be aware without a close and critical analysis of the
figures, the developments of which as previously hinted, may well cause
us to modify somewhat the reproaches we may have felt inclined to cast
upon some of our states for what seemed to be a lack of proper effort on
their part in the direction of education.

While, however, reproachful criticism of them still appears to
some extent justifiable, yet the deductions from rearrangement and
classification of the census and educational bureau tables show that
the fault does not altogether lie at the doors of those among whom the
greatest amount of illiteracy is found.

In order to make this clear let us examine the ratio of children enrolled
in schools, not to the state, but to the adult population. That ratio is,
in Alabama, 34.6 per cent.; Arkansas, 31.4; California, 35.2; Colorado,
17.7; Connecticut, 36.1; Delaware, 34.6; District of Columbia, 32.1;
Florida, 35.8; Georgia, 42; Illinois, 50; Indiana, 54.3; Iowa, 56;
Kansas, 53.8; Kentucky, 36.3; Louisiana, 19.8; Maine, 40; Maryland, 31.4;
Massachusetts, 33.5; Michigan, 44; Minnesota, 47.8; Mississippi, 48.6;
Missouri, 47.7; Nebraska, 45.5; New Hampshire, 31.3; New Jersey, 40.7;
New York, 40.3; North Carolina, 40.7; Ohio, 47.8; Pennsylvania, 42.2;
Rhode Island, 30.2; South Carolina, 32.3; Tennessee, 49.1; Texas, 25.2;
Utah, 44.4; Vermont, 38; Virginia, 35.4; West Virginia, 51.8; Wisconsin,
50.4, and in the entire Union, 42 per cent.

Now, the mean average number of children in the United States enrolled
in the schools being forty-two to every one hundred adults, what is our
surprise to find, in the figures just given, that every New England
state, as well as New York, New Jersey, and the District of Columbia,
falls below this average, while on the other hand, every northwestern
state (including Ohio, Missouri and Kansas), as well as Mississippi,
Tennessee and West Virginia, stands above it!

That in proportion to the adult population of those states, there are
more children at school in Mississippi, Tennessee and West Virginia, than
in any of the New England states, is, indeed, an astounding revelation.

Supposing, then, the cost of educating a child in those states to be the
same, it follows that each one hundred adults in Mississippi, Tennessee,
and West Virginia are paying more to educate their children than is paid
by the same number of adults in any New England state!

At first sight these statistical results fairly stagger one, and give
rise to doubts of their accuracy. But a careful examination of them
will satisfy any reasonable mind that these developments are veritable
facts, if the census returns and the school enrollment reported by the
Commissioners of Education are to be accepted—being based upon and
directly calculated from them. Even supposing the existence of some
deficiencies in the returns or some minor errors in the calculations, the
general facts they reveal must be accepted as true.



[D] By Senator Butler, of South Carolina.

[E] “Notes on Virginia, Fourth American Edition, N. Y. 1801,” p.

[F] See Report of Commissioner of Education for 1881, page 49.

[G] The surplus of percentage being due doubtless to the
attendance at school of some children beyond the school age prescribed by



    The parson goes about his daily ways
      With all the parish troubles in his head,
    And takes his Bible out, and reads and prays,
      Beside the sufferer’s chair, the dying bed.

    Whate’er the secret skeleton may be—
      Doubt, drink, or debt—that keeps within his lair,
    When parson comes, the owner turns the key,
      And lets him out to “squeak and gibber” there.

    It seems a possibility unguessed—
      Or little borne in mind, if haply known—
    The he who cheers in trouble all the rest
      May now and then have troubles of his own.

    Alas! God knows, he has his foe to fight,
      His closet-atomy, severe and grim;
    All others claim his comfort as of right,
      But, hapless parson! who shall comfort _him_?

    A friend he has to whom he may repair
      (Beside that One who carries all our grief),
    And when his load is more than he can bear
      He seeks his comforter, and finds relief.

    He finds a cottage, very poor and small,
      The meanest tenement where all are mean;
    Yet decency and order mark it all:—
      The panes are bright, the step severely clean.

    He lifts the latch—his comforter is there,
      Propt in the bed, where now for weeks she stays,
    Or, haply, seated knitting in her chair,
      If this be one of those rare “better days.”

    A tiny woman, stunted, bent, and thin;
      Her features sharp with pain that always wakes;
    The nimble hand she holds the needles in
      Is warped and wrenched by dire rheumatic aches.

    Sometimes, but seldom, neighbors hear her moan,
      Wrung by some sudden stress of fiercer pain;
    Often they hear her pray, but none has known,
      No single soul has heard her lips complain.

    The parson enters, and a gracious smile
      Over the poor pinched features brightly grows;
    She lets the needles rest a little while;
      “You’re kindly welcome sir!”—ah! that he knows.

    He takes the Book, and opens at the place—
      No need to ask her which her favorite psalm;
    And, as he reads, upon her tortured face
      There comes a holy rapture, deep and calm.

    She murmurs softly with him as he reads
      (She can repeat the Psalter through at will);
    “He feeds me in green pastures, and He leads,
      He leads me forth beside the waters still.”

    The reading’s done, and now the prayer is said;
      He bids farewell, and leaves her to her pain;
    But grace and blessing on his soul are shed—
      He goes forth comforted and strong again.

    He takes his way, on divers errands bound,
      Abler to plead, and warn, and comfort woes;
    That is the darkest house on all his round,
      And yet, be sure, the happiest house he knows.



    “Let the trust of JAMES SMITHSON to the United States of
    America be faithfully executed by their representatives in
    Congress, let the result accomplish his object, ‘the increase
    and diffusion of knowledge among men,’ and a wreath of more
    unfading verdure shall entwine itself in the lapse of future
    ages around the name of Smithson, than the united hands of
    tradition, history, and poetry have braided around the name of
    Percy through the long perspective in ages past of a thousand
    years.”—_John Quincy Adams._

The name of the Smithsonian Institution is a household word throughout
North America, and its fame is current wherever printed literature
exists. Abroad it is regarded as the chief exponent of the scientific
activities of the people of the United States, and the administrative
scientific department of our government. At home, its actual relations
to the administration are better understood, and it is looked upon in
its proper capacity—that of an organization closely affiliated to the
government and tenderly cherished by its officers, yet, in virtue of its
independent foundation, independent of political favor, and ready to
encourage, advise and coöperate with any public or private enterprise
without the necessity of annual appeals to the congressional committees
on appropriations.

Visitors to the national capital usually carry away pleasant memories of
the quiet old building among the trees in the mall, with its mediæval
battlements and turrets of brown stone conspicuous from every point of
view, and the multitude who enter its halls are at least impressed with
the fact that the national treasure houses are becoming filled with
valuable collections rather faster than the available money and space
will allow to be properly arranged and displayed. Only a very few,
however, of the four hundred thousand persons who visited the buildings
last year can have had the opportunity to inspect the administrative
offices or the scientific laboratories, and very few indeed of those
who are acquainted with the general nature of the operations of the
establishment, have the slightest conception of their meaning and

No class of American people, except indeed our scientific investigators,
better understand and appreciate the work of the Institution than do
our members of Congress, as is clearly shown by the uniform liberality
with which, throughout many successive terms, regardless of changes in
the political complexion of the administration, they have supported
its policy, by the care with which they disseminate its reports, by
the judgment with which they select their representatives in its board
of regents, and above all, by the scrupulous care with which they
have protected its independence from political complications. Through
the disinterested labors of Washington correspondents, novelists, and
playwrights, the average congressman of current, popular belief, is not
a person remarkable either for manners, honesty or intellect. Residents
of Washington, however, do not find the representative men at the Capital
counterparts of the eminent politicians depicted by the author of
“Democracy,” but in their stead, practical men of business, hard-working
in their committees and hard-worked by their constituents. It is its
support by these men, and through them by the people of the United
States, that has enabled the Smithsonian Institution to do its work in
the past. It is to such support that it will owe its efficiency in the
future, and it seems right that every opportunity should be taken to
explain its operations to the public. Representatives of the best classes
of thinking Americans will no doubt thoroughly appreciate the benefits
which education has received and will continue to receive from the proper
administration of the Smithsonian bequest.

The story of the foundation of the Institution sounds more like a romance
than like fact. Its history seems like the fulfillment of some ancient
prophecy—even more strikingly so because it is evident that the future
is to fulfill the promise of the past. The father of the founder of the
Smithsonian Institution was one of the most distinguished members of
the English peerage. Upon the plate of his coffin in Westminster Abbey,
where he was buried “in great pomp” in 1786, he is described as “the
most high, puissant and most noble prince Hugh Percy, Duke and Earl of
Northumberland, Earl Percy, Baron Warkworth and Lovaine, Lord Lieutenant
and Custos Rotulorum of the Counties of Middlesex and Northumberland,
Vice Admiral of the County of Northumberland and of all America, one of
the Lords of His Majesty’s most Honorable Privy Council and Knight of
the most noble Order of the Garter, etc., etc.” While his aged father
was sustaining this overwhelming accumulation of dignities, and while
his elder brother, Earl Percy, was acting as Lieutenant-General in
the war against the rebellious British colonies in North America (he
commanded the reinforcements at the battle of Lexington in 1775, and led
the column that reduced Fort Washington, near New York in 1776), James
Smithson, a youth of modest fortune, inherited from his mother, was
laying the foundations of a scientific education in the English schools
and colleges, receiving the degree of Master of Arts at Pembroke College,
Oxford, in 1786, the year of his father’s death. He was then known as
James Louis Macie, Esq., and did not assume the name of Smithson until
fourteen years later, after he had attained to some reputation as a man
of science. His mother was not the Duchess of Northumberland, but a
cousin of her father’s, Elizabeth Hungerford, who was subsequently known
as Mrs. Macie. She appears to have been the daughter and heiress of Sir
George Hungerford of Audley and the Hon. Frances Seymour, sister of the
Duke of Somerset and aunt of Algernon Seymour, Lord Percy, by marriage
with whose daughter Sir Hugh Smithson was enabled to assume the name of
Percy and the title of Duke of Northumberland. The Smithsons were an
old Yorkshire family, Sir Hugh Smithson, the great-grandfather of James
Smithson, having been created baronet in 1660 by Charles II. after his
restoration. The names of Percy and Northumberland were, as has been
stated, assumed by James Smithson’s father. These barren, genealogical
details are referred to because they seem to be necessary to the
understanding of James Smithson’s career.

Proud of his descent he undoubtedly was. In his will he describes his
identity himself in these words: “I, James Smithson, son of Hugh, first
Duke of Northumberland and Elizabeth, heiress of the Hungerfords of
Audley, and niece to Charles the Proud, Duke of Somerset.” He was,
however, a man of broad, philosophic mind, in whom a thorough training
in the best scientific methods of his day, and associations with leading
investigators in Germany and France, and his brother Fellows of the Royal
Society of London, had developed a generous appreciation of the value of
scholarship and scientific culture.

In one of his manuscripts was found the following sentiment, which I have
already referred to as prophetic in its ring:

“The best blood of England flows in my veins; on my father’s side I am
a Northumberland, on my mother’s I am related to kings, but this avails
me not. _My name shall live in the memory of man when the titles of the
Northumberlands and the Percys are extinct and forgotten._”

These words came to my mind last summer in London when I saw the present
Duke of Northumberland, grandson of Smithson’s half-brother, a feeble
old man, still one of England’s greatest dignitaries, following in the
train of the Prince of Wales, and rising to falter out a feeble speech
proposing a vote of thanks to His Royal Highness for presiding at one
of the conferences of the International Fisheries’ Exhibition, upon the
occasion of an address by Prof. Huxley, president of the Royal Society.
The name of the Smithsonian Institution has a world-wide fame; but who
outside of English court circles ever heard of Algernon George Percy,
Duke of Northumberland?

Smithson seems early in life to have become imbued with the scientific
spirit of his time. In 1784, while still an undergraduate at Oxford,
he made a scientific exploration of the coasts of Scotland in company
with a party of geologists. In 1787 he was admitted as a Fellow of the
Royal Society, and during the remaining forty-two years of his life, a
considerable portion of which was passed upon the continent, in Berlin,
Paris, Rome, Florence and Geneva, he was the associate of the leading
men of science, and devoted himself to research. He made an extensive
collection of minerals, which was destroyed by the burning of a portion
of the Smithsonian building in 1865, and always carried with him a
portable chemical laboratory. His contributions to science are included
in twenty-seven memoirs, chiefly upon topics in mineralogy and organic
chemistry, but a number of them relating to applied science and the
industrial arts.

His work was by no means of an epoch-making character, but seems to have
been remarkable for its minute accuracy. Smithson was a much greater man
than his published writings would indicate. In his eulogy the president
of the Royal Society remarked: “He carried with him the esteem of various
private friends, and of a still larger number of persons who admired
and appreciated his acquirements.” He was evidently a man of broad,
general culture, who understood thoroughly the needs of the world in the
direction of scientific endowment, and whose action in bequeathing his
estate to the people of America was deliberate and well considered.

In his admirable little monograph entitled “Smithson and His Bequest,”
Mr. W. J. Rhees has shown the tendency of the time of Smithson to have
been in the direction of establishing permanent scientific institutions.
Between 1782 and 1826, over twenty of the most important academies and
societies now in existence were organized. This period he remarks “was
not less marked by the gloom occasioned by long protracted and almost
universal war, and the extent and rapidity of its social changes, than
by the luster of its brilliant discoveries in science, and its useful
inventions in the arts. Pure, abstract science had many illustrious
votaries, and the practical applications of its truths gave to the world
many of the great inventions by means of which civilization has made such
immense and rapid progress.” He quotes in support of these statements
the words of Lord Brougham, the representative statesman of the day. “To
instruct the people in the rudiments of philosophy,” Brougham remarked,
“would of itself be an object sufficiently brilliant to allure the
noblest ambition.”

He recommended this idea to the wealthy men of England, pointing out how,
by the promotion of such ends, a man, however averse to the turmoil of
public affairs, may enjoy the noblest gratification of which the most
aspiring nature is susceptible, and may influence by his single exertions
the character and fortunes of a whole generation.

Very closely do these ideas agree with those expressed by Smithson
in various passages in his note books, especially with that which is
used for a motto upon the publications of the Institution: “Every man
is a valuable member of society who, by his observations, researches,
and experiments, procures knowledge for men.” Or this: “It is in his
knowledge that man has found his greatness and his happiness, the high
superiority which he holds over the other animals who inherit the earth
with him, and consequently, no ignorance is probably without loss to him,
no error without evil.”

It was with a mind full of such thoughts as these, with perhaps the
support and inspiration of Lord Brougham’s words quoted above from his
“Treatise on Popular Education,” printed in 1825, with such models in
mind as the Royal Society, whose object is “the improvement of natural
knowledge,” the Royal Institution “for diffusing the knowledge and
facilitating the general introduction of useful mechanical inventions and
improvements, and for teaching the application of science to the common
purposes of life,” and the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge
established in London in 1825, that in 1826 Smithson drew up his will
containing the following weighty provision: “_I bequeath the whole of
my property to the United States of America to found at Washington,
under the name of the Smithsonian Institution, an establishment for the
increase and diffusion of knowledge among men._”

No one has been able to show why he selected the United States as the
seat of his foundation. He had no acquaintances in America, nor does he
appear to have had any books relating to America save two. Rhees quotes
from one of these, “Travels Through North America,” by Isaac Weld,
secretary of the Royal Society, a paragraph concerning Washington, then
a small town of 5,000 inhabitants, in which it is predicted that “the
Federal city, as soon as navigation is perfected, will increase most
rapidly, and that at a future day, if the affairs of the United States go
on as rapidly as they have done, it will become the grand emporium of the
West, and rival in magnitude and splendor the cities of the whole world.”

Inspired by a belief in the future greatness of the new nation, realizing
that while the needs of England were well met by existing organizations
such as would not be likely to spring up for many years in a new, poor,
and growing country, he founded in the new England an institution of
learning, the civilizing power of which has been of incalculable value.
Who can attempt to say what the condition of the United States would have
been to-day without this bequest? In the words of John Quincy Adams: “Of
all the foundations of establishments for pious or charitable uses which
ever signalized the spirit of the age or the comprehensive beneficence of
the founder, none can be named more deserving the approbation of mankind.”

When the fact of the bequest became known, some six years after
Smithson’s death, much opposition was shown in Congress toward its
acceptance. Eminent statesmen like Calhoun and Preston argued that it
was beneath the dignity of the United States to receive presents, and
that it was too cheap a way of conferring immortality on the donor. The
wise counsels and enthusiastic labors of John Quincy Adams, who seems to
have had from the first a thorough appreciation of the importance of the
matter, finally prevailed, and the Hon. Richard Rush was sent to England
to prosecute the claim. He entered suit in the Courts of Chancery, in the
name of the President of the United States, and in less than two years—an
event unparalleled in the Court of Chancery—had obtained a favorable
decision. The legacy was brought over in the form of 104,960 gold
sovereigns which were delivered September 1st, 1838, to the Philadelphia
mint, where they were immediately recoined into American money, producing
$508,318.46, as the first installment of the Smithsonian legacy. This was
increased in 1861 to $534,529.09.

For eight years the legacy lay in the Treasury, while the wise men of the
nation tried to decide what to do with it. In this instance the adage
that in the multitude of counselors there is wisdom did not appear to
be applicable in the ordinary interpretation. The delay, though irksome
to those who desired to see immediate results, was, however, the best
thing in the end for the interests of the trust. Every imaginable
disposition of the legacy was proposed and discussed in Congress;
the debates fill nearly three hundred and fifty pages of Rhees’s
compilation of Smithsonian documents. Letters by the hundred, advisory,
expostulatory and dissuasive were received from representative thinkers
and from societies at home and abroad. Every man had a scheme peculiar
to himself, and opposed all other schemes with a vigor proportionate to
their dissimilarity to his own. Schools of every grade, from a national
university to an agricultural school, a normal school and a school for
the blind were proposed. A library, a botanical garden, an observatory, a
chemical laboratory, a popular publishing house, a lecture lyceum, an art
museum, any and all of these and many more were proposed and advocated by
this voluntary congress of many men of many minds. It is not necessary in
this place to discuss the history of the period at length, nor to relate
the manner in which the prevalence of wiser councils was brought about.
It is sufficient to say that though the new institution was burdened from
the start with various undertakings which have since proved unprofitable
or better suited to the capacity of other institutions, such have been
the flexibility of its organization and the vitality of its membership
that it has been able to work out a career for itself unparalleled in the
history of benevolent foundations.

It need not be said that the accomplishment of these effects was the
result of long continued effort on the part of men of unusual ability,
energy and personal influence. No board of trustees or regents, no
succession of officers serving out their terms in rotation could have
developed from a chaos of conflicting opinions, a strongly individualized
establishment like the Smithsonian Institution. The names of Joseph
Henry and Spencer F. Baird are so thoroughly identified with that of the
Institution that their biographies combined would form an almost complete
history of its operations. A thirty-two years’ term of uninterrupted
administrative service has been rendered by one, thirty-four years by the
other. It is very doubtful whether any other institution has ever had the
benefit of such an uninterrupted administration of thirty-eight years,
beginning with its birth and continuing in an unbroken line of consistent
policy a career of increasing usefulness and enterprise.

Joseph Henry, the first secretary, entered upon his duties at the end
of the year 1846, a man already famous as an investigator in physical
science, a professor of fourteen years’ standing in Princeton College,
and recognized as eminent in scientific and general acquirements. From
the age of forty-seven to that of seventy-nine, his life was merged in
that of the Institution. Professor Asa Gray has pointed out so clearly
the deep impression which he made upon the Institution while it was
yet plastic, that I venture to quote his words in order to explain
the character of this new force in the evolution of good results from
the Smithson benefaction. “Some time before his appointment,” writes
Professor Gray, “he had been requested by members of the Board of Regents
to examine the will of Smithson and to suggest a plan of organization by
which the object of the bequest might, in his opinion, best be realized.
He did so, and the plan he drew was in their hands when he was chosen
secretary. The plan was based on the conviction ‘that the intention of
the donor was to advance science by original research and publication;
that the establishment was for the benefit of mankind generally, and that
all unnecessary expenditures on local objects would be violations of
the trust.’ His ‘Programme of Organization’ was submitted to the Board
of Regents in the following year, was adopted as its governing policy,
and has been reprinted in full or in part in almost every annual report.
If the Institution is now known and praised throughout the world of
science and letters, if it is fulfilling the will of its founder and the
reasonable expectations of the nation which accepted and established the
trust, the credit is mainly due to the practical wisdom, the catholic
spirit, and the indomitable perseverance of its first secretary, to
whom the establishing act gave much power of shaping ends, which as
rough-hewn by Congress were susceptible of various diversion. Henry took
his stand on the broad and ample terms of the bequest, ‘for the increase
and diffusion of useful knowledge among men,’ and he never narrowed his
mind and to _locality_ gave what was meant for mankind. He proposed only
one restriction, of wisdom and necessity, that in view of the limited
means of the Institution, it ought not to undertake anything which could
be done, and well done, by other existing instrumentalities. So as
occasion arose he lightened its load and saved its energies by giving
over to other agencies some of its cherished work.” The character of
the work done in manifold directions will be discussed topically below;
its spirit is sufficiently indicated in Dr. Gray’s terse summary just
quoted. Professor Henry died in 1878. “Remembering his great career as
a man of science,” remarked President Garfield, “as a man who served
his Government with singular ability and faithfulness, who was loved
and venerated by every circle who was blessed with the light of his
friendship, the worthiest and the best, whose life added new luster to
the glory of the human race, we shall be most fortunate if ever in the
future we see his like again.”[H] His statue, erected by Congress, stands
in the Smithsonian Park.

Concerning the influence of Professor Baird, upon whom the mantle of
his predecessor has descended, it would perhaps be premature and out of
taste to speak. His eminence as a naturalist and his patriotic service as
Commissioner of Fisheries are too well known to need mention, and indeed
may be quite as appropriately discussed elsewhere. As assistant secretary
from the age of twenty-four he was intimately associated with Professor
Henry for twenty-seven years, and his executive ability found full scope
in the development of the systems of publication and international
exchange, as well as the museum, and the explorations, biological
and ethnological, which were from the beginning under his charge. As
secretary his policy has been a direct continuation of that of Professor
Henry. The services of Mr. William J. Rhees, for thirty-two years chief
clerk, merit also especial notice.

The formal direction of the Institution is vested in a board of regents,
consisting of the Vice President and Chief Justice of the United States,
three members each from the Senate and the House of Representatives, and
six persons citizens of the United States appointed by Congress. The
President and his cabinet are _ex officio_ members of the Institution,
and there is a provision, not at present carried into effect, providing
for the election of honorary members of the Institution. The secretary is
the only executive officer of the board, and is responsible to the board
for his conduct of affairs. The regents meet once a year in January. Many
eminent men have served in the capacity of regents, and the records of
their proceedings indicate that their interest in the work under their
charge has been uniformly very active.

The building occupied by the Institution and bearing its name is an
ornate structure of Seneca brown stone, occupying a prominent position
in the “Mall” which extends from the Capitol to the Washington monument.
This building was begun in 1847 and completed in 1855. It is hybrid in
character, combining features selected from both Gothic and Romanesque
style, and is more admired by the public than by connoisseurs in
architecture. It is doubtful if a building more unsuited to the purposes
for which it was designed was ever constructed. The diversion of the
funds of the Smithsonian bequest to this building was one of Professor
Henry’s greatest griefs, and before the close of his life by careful
economy of the annual income, he had succeeded in restoring the entire
sum, amounting to about $450,000 to the permanent endowment fund, beside
increasing this fund nearly $150,000 over and above the original bequest.
The eastern wing of the building, for so many years the hospitable home
of the secretary, has been reconstructed internally, and the offices of
the Institution are all established within its walls. The remainder of
the building is occupied by laboratories and exhibition halls connected
with the National Museum. Another building has recently been built
east of the Smithsonian for the reception of a portion of the national
collections. This was put up by congressional appropriation, and Congress
has at last recognized the justice of the claim, so many years urged upon
them by the secretary, that the Smithson money should not be used to
provide shelter for the government cabinets, and has assumed the care of
the Smithsonian building and votes money for its repairs and maintenance.

Few people who visit Washington make the proper discrimination between
the Smithsonian Institution proper, and the establishments under its
custody. What they see is the National Museum. The relations of the
Museum to the Institution will be discussed more fully in a separate
article, but it is necessary to state just here that it is not the
property of the Institution, but rather its ward—its management being
intrusted by law to the Institution which is provided with funds for its
maintenance by annual congressional grants. In early days the Smithsonian
supported collections of its own, but these were not primarily for public
exhibition, but for the uses of scientific investigators. Professor Henry
always maintained that not one cent of the Smithson fund could with
propriety be applied to the support of the National Museum, and his view
is now the accepted one.

In the Smithsonian proper, little is to be seen by visitors. In the
regents’ room is an interesting collection of relics of the founder,
including his portrait, his scientific library, and certain of his
pictures and personal effects. Beside the regents’ room there are
offices, store rooms and packing rooms occupied by busy clerks and
mechanics. The Smithsonian is, first of all, an executive establishment,
to which have been confided various trusts, to be mentioned hereafter.
It is also a publishing house, and an “exchange” for the reception and
transmission of scientific materials. The great masses of books in
brown wrappers and cases of papers, apparatus and specimens constitute
therefore the greater bulk of the material with which it has to deal.

The leading feature of the plan proposed by Professor Henry was from
the first “to assist men of science in making original researches, to
publish them in a series of volumes, and to give a copy of them to every
first-class library on the face of the earth.” The manner in which the
first item of policy has been carried out can not be described here.
Those who wish to know how it has been done must consult the thirty-four
thick volumes of the annual reports, presented to and printed by
Congress. It is safe to say, however, in general terms that there is
probably not a scientific investigator in America to whom the helping
hand of the Institution has not at some time been of service, and that
assistance of this sort has been by no means restricted to this side of
the Atlantic. Books, apparatus and laboratory accommodations have been
supplied in thousands of instances, and every year a certain number of
money grants have been made. Not less important has been the personal
encouragement afforded, especially to beginners and persons remote from
other advice, in the hundreds of thousands of letters which have been
written by the two secretaries during the seventy years of their added
terms of office. No communication is ever passed by unnoticed and the
archive rooms of the Institution packed from floor to ceiling with letter
files and letter copy books are well worthy of inspection.

The publications of the establishment are as numerous as those of a great
publishing house, and as a matter of fact, they are all given away;
although there is a provision for their sale at cost price, I doubt if
a thousand dollars’ worth has been sold in five years. There are three
series, the aspect of which must be familiar to every observing person
who has ever spent a day among the shelves in any American library of
respectable standing. The Smithsonian “Contributions to Knowledge,” now
including twenty-three stately volumes quarto with 116 memoirs, in all
12,456 pages, and numerous fine plates, the Smithsonian miscellaneous
collection, in octavo, containing 122 papers with 20,299 pages, and
thirty-five annual reports. The papers included in these volumes are all
published separately, the number of separate volumes printed up to this
time being above 500. These include papers varying in length from 4 to
1,000 pages, by the most eminent specialists in every branch of science.
The most recent work, one now in progress, two volumes having been
published, is a systematic work on the botany of North America by Dr.
Asa Gray; another is an illustrated work on prehistoric fishing, by Dr.
Charles Rau.

I have never seen an estimate of the value of the books distributed
during the thirty-eight years, but I should judge that it can not fall
below $1,000,000, estimating the prices at standing publishing rates.

In addition to the direct publications of the Institution let us look at
the numerous magnificent volumes of scientific reports printed in more or
less direct coöperation with the Institution by the various government
surveys and exploring expeditions, at government expense. Who can doubt
that the extent of this literature, which is a constant source of comment
in foreign scientific journals, where it is desired to stimulate European
governments to publish scientific researches in a similar way, is largely
a product of the influence of the Institution?

One of the main features of the Institution in its early days was its
library. Its publications were distributed throughout the world to every
scientific and literary institution of good repute, and in exchange
they sent their own publications. In this way an immense collection of
scientific periodicals and journals was received, and the Smithsonian
library became one of the most extensive in the world in this department.
Books came in freely from other quarters and the support of the library
became a great burden to the Smithson fund. The same policy which led
to the abandonment of the Smithsonian cabinet, led to a transfer of the
library, and in 1866 the books were transferred to the Capitol where they
are cared for as a section of the national library under the name of “The
Smithsonian Deposit.” The books come in as heretofore, in exchange and as
donations, and are sent weekly to their place of custody at the other end
of the mall. The increase in 1883 amounted to 11,739 books and pamphlets,
and the total deposit amounts to about 100,000 volumes. Several thousand
volumes are retained in the working libraries of the Institution.

At the time of the Smithson bequest the endowment of research had
scarcely been attempted in America. There were schools and colleges
in which science was taught and certain of the professors employed in
these institutions were engaged in original investigation. There were
a few young and struggling scientific societies, the American Academy
of Sciences in Boston, and the Boston Society of Natural History, the
Connecticut Academy of Sciences, the New York Lyceum of Natural History
(now the New York Academy of Sciences), the American Philosophical
Society, and the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. The
American Association for the Advancement of Science was not organized
until 1840. The publications of these societies were necessarily very
limited in extent and influence, but then together with the monthly
journal published at New Haven, by Professor Silliman, they embodied
the chief outcome of American scientific work. Science in America was
an infant in swaddling clothes. Forty years have passed and American
science now stands by the side of the science of Britain, of Germany, of
France, a fellow worker, competing on an equal footing in nearly every
field of research. No one is likely to question the statement that the
Smithsonian Institution has done what was absolutely indispensable to the
rapid and symmetrical development of American scientific institutions,
and it is equally certain that the progress of American science has had
an immense influence upon the welfare of America in every department of
intellectual and industrial activity. It has offered a helping hand to
every institution and every individual in America capable of profiting
by its generous aid, and has stimulated coöperation by them with similar
workers abroad. In this way its influence has been enormous, but still
greater has been the benefit of its stimulating powers upon the policy of
the general government toward scientific ends.


[H] “One trait,” remarks Professor Gray, “may not be wholly
omitted from the biography of one who has well been called ‘the model of
a Christian gentleman,’ and who is also our best example of a physical
philosopher. His life was the practical harmony of the two characters.
His entire freedom from the doubts which disturb some minds is shown in
that last letter which he dictated, in which he touches the grounds of
faith, both in natural and revealed religion; also in his sententious
declaration upon some earlier occasions, that the person who thought
there could be any real conflict between science and religion must be
either very young in science or very ignorant of religion.”



Western University of Pennsylvania.


    “Now when the cheerless empire of the sky
     To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields,
     And fierce Aquarius stains the inverted year;
     Hung o’er the farthest verge of heaven, the SUN
     Scarce spreads o’er ether the dejected day.
     Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot
     His struggling rays in horizontal lines,
     Through the thick air; as clothed in cloudy storm,
     Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky;
     And, soon descending, to the long dark night,
     Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns.”

But as the days go by, his rays no longer struggle “through the thick
air” in “horizontal lines,” nor does he so closely “skirt the southern
sky,” but higher mounting pierces with penetrating power the dark
shadows, lessening “the long, dark night,” driving “the dusky shades
away.” So rapidly do these changes occur that in four weeks our daylight
increases one hour and seven minutes, or our length of days from ten
hours and nine minutes on the 1st to eleven hours sixteen minutes on the
28th. On the 1st, 16th and 28th the sun rises at 7:09, 6:52 and 6:34 a.
m., and on the same days sets at 5:18, 5:36 and 5:50 p. m. respectively.


Presents us with great regularity her changes: Last quarter on the 6th at
5:29 p. m.; new, on the 14th, at 9:13 p. m.; first quarter, on the 22d,
at 5:23 a. m.; and full on the 28th, at 10:52 p. m. In apogee (farthest
from earth) on the 9th, at 7:24 p. m.; in perigee (nearest the earth)
on the 25th, at 6:24 p. m. Least elevation, 10th, amounting to 30° 9´;
greatest elevation, 24th, equal to 66° 45´.


“The fleet-footed,” makes a direct motion of 43° 18´ 37´´, moving
from about the middle of the constellation _Sagittarius_ and through
_Capricornus_, and is the companion of Venus throughout the month (see
“Venus”). Rises on the 1st at 5:55 a. m., and sets at 3:13 p. m.; on the
16th, rises at 6:12 a. m., sets at 3:50 p. m.; on the 28th, rises at 6:22
a. m., sets at 4:46 p. m. On the 11th, at 7:00 p. m., is 44´ south of
Venus; on the 12th, at 4:00 a. m., farthest from the sun; on the 13th, at
5:42 a. m., 5° 56´ south of the moon.


And Mercury are both morning stars during the entire month, and are so
intimately connected as to afford a fine opportunity for making the
acquaintance of the latter. On the 1st Venus is about one and a half
degrees east and 1´ 38´´ north of Mercury; but as Mercury moves more
rapidly than Venus, he will overtake and pass her on the evening of the
11th at a point 44´ south; on the 22d, he will cross her orbit to the
north, and at a distance of 3½° east; and on the 28th will be found
nearly 6° east and 53´ north of her. Before the 11th Mercury will rise
earlier than Venus; on the 11th they will practically rise at the same
time; after the 11th Mercury will rise later than Venus. On the 1st
Venus rises at 6:00 a. m.; on the 16th, at 6:05 a. m.; and on the 28th,
at 6:03 a. m. She sets on the corresponding days at 3:18, 3:51 and 4:19
p. m. respectively. Her motion is direct and amounts to 35° 54´ 10´´;
on the 13th, at 5:18 a m., she is 5° 9´ south of the moon. Her diameter
decreases from 11.2´´ on the 1st to 10.6´´ on the 28th.


Will during this month be both evening and morning star, changing his
relation on the 11th, on which date he will be in conjunction with the
sun, and will not be visible to the naked eye. His motion will amount to
21° 25´ 32´´ direct, and his diameter remain at 4.2´´. On the 14th, at
10:44 p. m., he will be 4° 30´ south of the moon; on the 28th, at 2:00 p.
m., in perihelion, or nearest the sun. On the 1st he will rise at 7:26 a.
m. and set at 5:22 p. m.; on the 16th, rise at 6:58 a. m., set at 5:24 p.
m.; on the 28th, rise at 6:35 a. m., set at 5:25 p. m.


Rises on the 1st at 6:48 p. m., and sets on the 2d at 8:06 a. m.; rises
on the 15th at 5:48 p. m., sets at 7:12 a. m. on the 16th; rises at 5:47
p. m. on the 28th and sets the next day at 5:17 a. m. On the 1st, at 2:07
a. m., he is 4° 9´ north of the moon; on the 19th, at 2:00 a. m., in
opposition to the sun, that is, on the opposite side of the sun from the
earth; on the 28th, at 6:43 a. m., he is again in conjunction with the
moon, being 4° 27´ north of our satellite. During the month his diameter
increases two-tenths of a second, and he has a retrograde motion of 3°
24´ 8´´. The statement that Jupiter retrogrades some 3½° may puzzle some
of our younger readers, who have doubtless been instructed in what is
a fact, that not one of our planets has a retrograde motion; but that
all move from west to east about the sun as a center. What we mean by
retrograde is really only _apparent_ retrograde; and it was something
very puzzling to the early astronomers, particularly to those who thought
that the earth and not the sun was the center of our system; that the
sun and all the heavenly bodies revolved each day about our earth. When
it was discovered that the earth revolved each day on its axis, and
all the planets revolved about the sun, the retrograde motions were
_comparatively_ easy to understand. Let us see if we can obtain a clear
idea of Jupiter’s actions for this month. As we view him on the night
of the 1st he appears about five degrees _east_ and 1° 2´ south of the
bright star _Regulus_, which can be seen almost the entire night as the
brightest of the six stars forming the sickle in the constellation _Leo_.
Noting his position again on the night of the 28th, we find that he has
moved westward about 3½°, and is only about 1½° _east_ and 17´ north of
Regulus; thus, as we say, having retrograded about 3½°. To assist us in
understanding this, let us take an orange to represent the sun, a grain
(of mustard, for example) to represent the earth, a pea to represent
Jupiter, and a point of some kind for Regulus. Now place these objects
on a stand in the following order: In one line, at the beginning, the
orange; two inches distant, the grain; eight inches farther, the pea.
Next draw a line through the center of the orange so as to make an angle
of five degrees with the line through the orange, grain and pea, and at
as great a distance as convenient, stick a pin to represent Regulus. Now
move the grain and pea (the former about two and one-fourth times as
fast as the latter) about the orange as a center, in the direction of
the movement of the hands of the clock (that is, from left to right). We
can readily see that on account of the more rapid motion of the grain,
together with its being nearer the orange, that the pea will _fall
behind_; and if we sight along the line of the grain and pea, the latter
will be seen nearer the line joining the orange and the pin; and should
we continue the moving of the grain and pea, making similar observations,
we should find the pea approaching nearer and nearer, and perhaps even
passing the line through the orange and pin. These relative motions
we can see will continue until the grain makes nearly one-fourth of a
circumference, after which the pea appears to make a movement in exactly
the opposite direction. Now the foregoing represents tolerably well the
relative positions and movements for this month of the bodies named.
The earth, Jupiter and Regulus are on the same side of the sun; the
earth nearest, Jupiter next (about five times as far as the earth), and
Regulus next (at a distance of say 20,000,000,000,000 miles), and five
degrees west of the line joining the earth and Jupiter. (These bodies
we know move at the average rate of 18.38 and 8.06 miles per second
respectively.) Our standpoint is the earth, and as we move eastwardly so
much more rapidly than Jupiter, we find him dropping back each day, and
apparently approaching nearer to Regulus, till at the end of the month we
find him as before stated, only about 1½° _east_ of that star. Should we
watch him through March and April, we should find him retrograding during
the former month and twenty-two days of the latter, on the 23d of April
being 1½° _west_ of Regulus; and on the same date, as the earth would be
going directly away from him, he would appear stationary; and immediately
afterward would seem to start again toward the east. Jupiter, as we know,
is one of the superior planets, and an explanation of his retrograde
motion explains that of all the others of his kind. A little ingenuity,
putting the earth for Jupiter and Mercury or Venus for the earth, will
show what is meant by the retrograde motion of the inferior planets.


Rises at 12:58 p. m. on the 1st and sets at 3:34 a. m. on the 2d; rises
at 11:58 a. m. on the 16th and sets at 2:35 a. m. on the 17th; rises
at 11:12 a. m. on the 28th and sets at 1:48 a. m. on March 1st. On the
16th, at 4:00 a. m., stationary; on 23d, at 3:21 a. m., 3° 44´ north of
the moon. Diameter diminishes one second. Will be an evening star during
the entire month, and thus afford most convenient opportunities for


Has a retrograde motion of 49´ 53´´; diameter, 3.8´´. On the 3d, at
3:25 a. m., is 1° 7´ north of the moon; on the 31st of January it rises
at 9:25 p. m. and sets on the 1st at 9:23 a. m.; on the 15th, rises at
8:24 p. m. and sets on the 16th at 8:22 a. m.; rises on the 27th at
7:35 p. m. and sets on the 28th at 7:35 a. m. It is now a little south
of the equator, in the constellation _Virgo_, and will remain in that
constellation some six years.


Is only mentioned, lest the omission of his name might be regarded as
a “slight.” He is a slow-goer, and, except that his presence confirms
a law, we hardly know what he was created for. However, his habits are
quite regular; and we note that he takes the _rôle_ of evening star,
setting on the 2d at 1:22 a. m.; on the 17th, at 12:23 a. m., and on
the 28th, at 11:37 p. m. Has a direct motion of 14´ 35´´; a diameter of
2.6´´; and on the 8th, at 9:00 p. m., is 90° east of the sun.



New Orleans is our most pleasing American city to persons from a northern
climate. Florida presents no place important enough to illustrate a large
general society. Texas has rising towns, but the Anglo-Saxon domination
there brings them more and more into resemblance to our own settled
English, or rather, British communities. In San Francisco we are charmed
not only with a complete change of foliage, scenery, and climate, but
with unexpected varieties in the population, there being a little tinge
of the south of Europe as well as of Mexico and of the Celestial Kingdom
in the speculative yet placid elements there. Yet New Orleans is not
so hard as even San Francisco. It is a land not merely of fruit, but
of the sugar-cane. It lies on that warm gulf whose farther shores were
more historical three hundred years ago than now. As time advances and
we complete our own connections and general developments we see more
and more that the American destiny must be southward. Canada, which has
had a much longer history than the United States, presents even now but
a thin rim of settlement, and her entire population from the banks of
Newfoundland to Vancouver’s Island is not equal to that of the single
state of New York. On the other hand, Mexico, through which the Americans
have built costly railroad systems piercing to the very capital city, has
a population certainly twice that of Canada, and probably three times
the number, considering the extension of Mexico toward Central America.
American diplomacy has little other ground to cover for the near future,
than the republics to the south of us. The surfeit of enterprises and of
productions in the United States compels us to consider a time when we
must not only find markets in the Spanish American states, but shall
become, if not pioneers, as we once were, certainly competitors in the
Pacific Ocean, of the English, Germans, and other modern nations. We have
opened a way to the Pacific by railroad, but the canal long contemplated
across Central America will operate more impartially toward shippers,
will cheapen the movement of goods, and incline the United States rapidly
toward an understanding of the new peoples to our southwest, in methods
no doubt providentially designed. New Orleans has been so clearly
understood by our railroad magnates that they have hastened, almost
without public assistance, to connect her not only with great points
like Hampton Roads, Richmond, Cincinnati and Chicago, but the railroads
are finished from San Francisco to New Orleans, and the only continental
railroad system from ocean to ocean under a single management, does not
pass by Chicago, but by New Orleans. The Americans originally stimulated
by the governmental credit to build from the Missouri River to San
Francisco, have upon their own credit and earnings stretched a railroad
through California nearly to the gulf of that name, and then across the
deserts and Texas, until New Orleans is at this moment the Atlantic
seaport of California. Mr. Gould, who succeeded Colonel Thomas A. Scott,
has stretched another railroad system parallel to Mr. Huntington’s from
the desert through Northern Texas and down the Red River to New Orleans.

Near the close of the past year another important railroad was built
from Memphis directly to New Orleans. A little earlier last year the
Cincinnati Southern Railroad was extended directly to New Orleans by the
great syndicate which had leased it. Therefore, there now run into New
Orleans four lines of rail east of the Mississippi River, and two great
lines west of the Mississippi. Contrast this with the railroad facilities
which existed there only fourteen years ago. At that time New Orleans had
only one railroad to the north, and that had certain connections, and was
under no consolidated sway. It was not even connected with its adjacent
city of Mobile by rail. It had no railroad facilities whatever to reach
Texas, except a little piece of road which ran to the Gulf near the mouth
of the Atchafalaya, and there found steamships for Galveston.

While other cities in the South have shown a cheerful energy to revive
themselves, and while new cities have started up at many points, and have
become respectable centers of trade, New Orleans has retained all that
imperial promise under freedom which she had in the palmiest days of
slavery. Perhaps no city in the South, or in the world, has so thoroughly
changed its ideas, political and social, in spite of sharp contests for
party supremacy there.

The great exhibition of the present year is the best instance that New
Orleans means to lead the industrial spirit of the South, and to become
no longer the great filibuster in the tropics, but the energetic merchant
and projector there. No lawless impulse guided the erection of the great
buildings which are now crowded with the productions of America and

The attempt to let the sugar interests of Louisiana and Mississippi go
in favor of the productions of Cuba and the East Indies, distinctly
points the people at the mouth of the Mississippi to the fact that their
alliance is probably to be with the Northern states, not merely in
politics, but in commerce.

New Orleans is not the only French city in the United States, but it is
the only one which preserves the French quality and language perfectly,
and in that respect resembles Montreal and Quebec. St. Louis had a
French and Spanish basis, but when that post became American the small
Latin element was compelled, in self-defense, to adopt the language
and living of the Anglo-Saxons. New Orleans, however, had a sufficient
start when the Americans occupied it in 1803, to grow relatively with
the American settlers and consequently two cities arose side by side,
which still preserve their differences as much as if a quarter of London
and a quarter of Paris had been cut out and united. Besides, there was
a large rural and planting element in Louisiana, of the French stock,
which has assisted to keep up the French infusion, and hence the market
at New Orleans is the most characteristic thing in the city, where the
_habitants_ and the hucksters, the fishers from the Gulf, and the porters
and carters, carry us back to a scene anterior to the France of to-day,
or before republican ideas had reached the far French colonies. New
Orleans, too, constantly received emigration from neighboring French and
Spanish islands and coasts as they were affected by negro insurrections,
or by internal revolutions. Naturally the fleeing planters from Hayti
and the Lesser Antilles made their way to the nearest large town, and
the steam shipping of the Gulf all concentrates at the two centers of
the ellipse, New Orleans and Havana. The Mississippi River, which is the
only river of the first class on the globe to pass through a cultivated
land and an enlightened population, sufficiently marks New Orleans as
the eye of its destiny adjacent to its mouth. There are many Americans
who have never been to New Orleans, who are unaware that it, like New
York, has two distinct harbors or outlets. As New York has Long Island
Sound and the Bay of New York, one opening a hundred miles to the east
of the other, so New Orleans has a lake system close by which gives her
internal communication far to the east, or almost to the bay of Mobile,
and saves her two hundred miles of round-about river navigation to reach
her own coasts. It may be thought that New Orleans is too far from the
mouth of the Mississippi to command that the commerce of the Gulf should
come a hundred miles up that river for her benefit, yet Philadelphia
and Baltimore are quite as far from the ocean, and these cities have
easily commanded a great interior trade through the communications they
possessed, and from the products they had to supply. Coal, for example,
makes the most effective article of the commerce of both Baltimore and
Philadelphia, and coal is more valuable in the Gulf because farther from
the mines, than it is on the near east coast. The coal furnished to the
shipping at New Orleans has descended the entire line of the river, yet
by such easy facilities that at New Orleans it is probably the cheapest
coal in the world for the distance it has to come to get a market. Great
floats, of which dozens are hauled by a small tug or tow boat, go down
the Ohio to its mouth, and pass on to New Orleans and are there so easily
discharged that the lumber in them finds a market with the coal.

Besides, the railroad projectors, without other inducement than their own
sagacity, have concurred in running all their railroads to New Orleans,
for the country at the mouth of the Mississippi is neither so healthy
nor so strategical for trade as this old town which was founded by the
French under the direction of their government when they picked slowly
and carefully the sites of future trade and military empire. These same
French located St. Louis, and it has not been found advisable by any
succeeding generation to try a better situation.

We may ask whether New Orleans has as great an antiquity as our own
English cities? It is not as old as Philadelphia by almost thirty years,
and is somewhat younger than Charleston, and is about fifteen years
older than Savannah. Of course it does not compare in antiquity with
the colonial cities of the northeast, such as New York, Albany, Boston,
Montreal and Quebec. But it is nearly a century older than any of our
important Anglo-Teuton cities of the West. It is more than half a century
older than Cincinnati, and we may almost call it a century older than
Chicago. St. Louis was its Albany, or upstream neighbor, and was under
the same political domination. Mobile was the parent place the French
established on the Gulf, and Governor Bienville made New Orleans his
capital as late as 1723, or about nine years before the birth of General

Soon after this a levee was built in front of the new town, and the early
French authors and novelists took pleasure in visiting it, and even at
that date they called it “the famous place.” As in Quebec and Montreal,
the early French settlement was almost simultaneous with the bringing out
of monks and nuns, and soon a cathedral was conceived and nunneries were
built. The French, however, had not the vigorous nature of the English
in founding new places, and after nearly half a century of occupation
there were hardly three thousand persons in it to transfer to the
Spanish who took possession of the place in the midst of a revolution,
and had some of the best French citizens shot in order to be a terror
to what the Spanish governor, O’Reilly, already suspected to exist in
French Louisiana, the spirit of independence, which Spain wanted to
extirpate in all her colonies, fearing that they would speedily rise to
importance and overwhelm the parent power. Spain had been dismembered
by a treaty early in the eighteenth century, and was left with enormous
American possessions, and with a very small Spain to handle them. The
Spanish cabinet then conceived the policy of preventing the growth of the
colonies, so as to keep them down, use them merely for trade, and not let
that spirit of municipal independence which makes great fermentations in
states commence anywhere. Some of the Spanish governors, however, ordered
public buildings to be constructed, and the American residents at New
Orleans say that the Spanish sway of about forty years has left better
monuments than the French.

A Spanish infusion of settlers marks the present population, and the
Americans call all the Latin races, no matter whether they come from
France and her islands, or Spain and her coasts, by the name of Creoles.

A curious feature of New Orleans is the existence of considerable
elements there from states as foreign to ourselves as Yucatan.

At the close of the American Revolution there were less than five
thousand persons in New Orleans. During that Revolution a considerable
number of respectable British settlers who wanted to avoid the War
of Independence, settled in West Florida and about Natchez, and in
other spots contiguous to New Orleans. Hence the Revolution was hardly
over before the first chapter of manifest destiny was directed from
Pennsylvania, Ohio and Kentucky upon the opening of the Mississippi
River. That physical achievement was so important to the producers on
the Ohio and the Tennessee Rivers that schemes of every sort were tried
to hasten the opening of commerce to the Gulf. One Senator of the United
States was expelled from his place for an intrigue partaking of the
nature of treason with the British who still backed up the Spanish on
the Gulf; and a Vice President was actually pursued nearly to the Gulf
and brought back and tried for treason at Richmond. How long the United
States might have had to wait the slow course of diplomacy or the rough
chance of war to get New Orleans, is uncertain, but Napoleon, who had
acquired Louisiana by his mastery over Spain, believing that he could
not hold it against the English fleets, made haste to sell it to the
Americans for a sum of money and old commercial claims.

Eighty-two years ago, or about the rounded lifetime of an old man, the
Americans occupied New Orleans, and much of the city burnt up the year
our forefathers were voting for the first President of the United States.
A French newspaper had been issued in New Orleans several years before
the American possession. There were perhaps eight thousand persons in
the city when it was transferred to us. Twelve years after the transfer,
the Americans under General Jackson had to give battle to hold the city,
which the English attacked with the best troops they had used in Spain
against Napoleon who had already fallen. Napoleon was contemplating his
last endeavor to astonish the world at Waterloo, when the English and
Americans, unconscious that a treaty of peace had been made between
themselves, fought the battle of New Orleans, which resulted in more
disaster to the British arms than any battle on land during our second
conflict for independence. In St. Paul’s Cathedral stand the monuments
and statues of Packenham and Gibbs who lost their lives in the marshes
around New Orleans.

In 1862, Farragut with his fleet took New Orleans. His victory drove an
entering wedge into the heart of the Confederacy and gave to the navy
of the United States a prestige which it had never enjoyed and which in
its present enfeebled state it is rapidly losing. New Orleans was the
wealthiest and most populous city of the Confederacy; it was four times
larger than either Charleston or Richmond, and before the war had the
largest export trade of any city in the world. Commanding mid-continental
navigation and being the key to the Gulf, its military value was equal to
its commercial importance.

The plan for the capture of New Orleans by the navy, and the reduction of
the forts which guarded the approach to it from the south, originated in
the Navy Department in the fall of 1861. The credit for proposing this
plan has been claimed by more persons than one, and it is likely that it
was conceived and developed from suggestions and hints received from a
variety of sources. It was determined that a naval expedition should be
sent against New Orleans. The plan found little favor with army officers,
but the President became interested in it and Secretary Welles set about
carrying it into effect. The attention of military men was concentrated
on a proposed combination of the forces of the army and the navy for the
capture of New Orleans, in an expedition which was to descend to the
city from the upper waters of the Mississippi River. This scheme seemed
more attractive, and the idea of taking New Orleans by means of a fleet
advancing from the Gulf had never been entertained in military circles.
When Stanton became Secretary of War and was told of the proposed naval
expedition, he was astonished at the originality and audacity of the
idea and exclaimed: “An attack upon New Orleans by the navy! I never
heard of it! It is the best news you could give me.” Secretary Stanton
entered cordially into the spirit of the project and increased the number
of the troops which General McClelland had promised, from ten thousand
to eighteen thousand. Shortly after this, General B. F. Butler was made
acquainted with the purpose of Secretary Welles and he was given the
command of the military force which was to hold New Orleans after the
fleet had taken it. There is no evidence that General Butler suggested
any of the important plans or details for the expedition or that he had
any definite plans concerning it.

Congress had ordered the blockade of 3,500 miles of coast line. There
were scarcely ships enough to maintain it, and the vessels for the New
Orleans expedition had to be built or procured from other sources.
After the Secretary of the Navy had decided to send a fleet against New
Orleans and had given orders for the construction of it, the most serious
question which presented itself was the selection of a commander. All of
the naval officers of high rank were suggested and considered. It was to
be the most powerful and splendid fleet ever gathered under the stars and
stripes, and the Department moved cautiously in the matter of choosing a
leader for it. Finally the name of David Glasgow Farragut was proposed.
The Secretary of the Navy remembered that years before in the war with
Mexico, Farragut had offered a daring plan for the capture of the strong
fort of San Juan de Ulloa, at Vera Cruz. He proposed that the fort be
“boarded” by attaching long ladders to the masts of the attacking ships,
which should then be towed up to the walls of the fort. Secretary Welles
was impressed at the time with the boldness and dash of the scheme, and
though he had not seen Farragut since that day, and really knew very
little of him, yet after some consultation he decided to offer him the
command of the fleet. Farragut, who had never had a squadron, gladly
accepted the honor and the responsibility. He had been trained by a life
of study and active service for some great emergency like this, which
came late in life, in his sixty-second year, but he was prepared for it
and he knew it. Farragut adopted the plans which had been considered by
the Navy Department and made them his own. He grasped the work before
him with a degree of earnestness and enthusiasm unusual in men of his
age. Secretary Welles says of him at that time: “In every particular he
came up to all that was expected or required of him. He determined to
pass the forts and restore New Orleans. He might not come back, he said,
but the city would be ours.” After his arrival at Ship Island on the
25th of March, 1862, Farragut wrote: “I have now attained what I have
been looking for all my life—a flag—and having attained it, all that is
necessary to complete the scene is a victory. If I die in the attempt it
will only be what every officer has to expect. He who dies in doing his
duty to his country and at peace with his God, has played out the drama
of life to the best advantage.” Here was a genuine pious hero of the old
school, determined to do or to die. His task was a herculean one. New
Orleans was defended by two forts erected at the lowest favorable point
for the location of military works, above the Gulf. Fort St. Philip
occupied the left bank of the river, and a short distance below it on the
right bank stood Fort Jackson. These forts mounted in all one hundred
and fifteen guns. A fort on the site of Jackson in 1815 held the British
fleet in check for nine days. The rebel forts were garrisoned by 1,500
men commanded by General J. K. Duncan. A short distance above the forts
lay fifteen rebel vessels. This fleet included the iron ram “Manassas”
and a great floating battery clad with railroad iron. Below the forts a
heavy chain supported by the hulks of eight dismasted ships obstructed
the river. Farragut was to break through the chain, fight his way by
the forts, destroy or capture the rebel fleet and then steam up to New
Orleans and place that city under his guns. The attack was commenced
by the mortar fleet. For six days the mortars poured a ceaseless fire
of shells into the fort. The shells were flying through the air at all
times; nearly six thousand were thrown, but the forts were damaged very
little and the Confederate loss was only fourteen killed and thirty-nine
wounded. It was determined to pass the forts on April 24th. At sunset on
the 23d there were indications of the approaching conflict on every ship
in Farragut’s fleet. The attack was to be made under cover of darkness.
At eleven o’clock that night an officer signaled that an opening which
had been made in the chain was still clear. Five minutes before two
o’clock in the morning two red lights were displayed from the peak of the
flag ship. It was the signal to steam up the river. In about one hour
the fleet of seventeen vessels, in three divisions, was moving. The moon
was rising, but its light was lost in the fierce flames from bonfires
and fire rafts. Both forts opened fire upon the first ship as she passed
through the row of hulks. Five minutes later the little “Cayuga” was
pouring grape and canister into Fort St. Philip, and in ten minutes more
she had passed from the range of its guns and was in the arms of the
rebel fleet. It was a lively moment for the brave little boat. Eleven
rebel gunboats tried to demolish her at once. She could not go forward,
she would not go backward. There was nothing to do but to close with the
enemy. She drove an “eleven inch” shot through one of her antagonists and
it ran aground and burned up. Another one was crippled by a well directed
shot, and the “Cayuga” was about to grapple with the third when two ships
of the Union fleet came to her aid, the “Oneida” and the “Varuna.”

The former ran into one of the rebel ships and almost cut her in twain.
The “Varuna” was rammed by the “Manassas” and another ship and went to
the bottom in fifteen minutes. While she was going down she fired into
one of her adversaries and so damaged her that she had to surrender to
the “Oneida,” and she sent a shell into another rebel gunboat which
exploded its boiler. All the time the remaining vessels of the first
division were steaming by the forts, pouring tremendous volleys into them
and receiving tremendous discharges in return. Farragut’s flag ship, the
“Hartford,” led the second division of the fleet. She was a noble vessel,
splendidly equipped; she steamed into the fight and was followed by the
long line of ships in the second and third divisions. By this hour day
was dawning, but heavy clouds of smoke hung over the river and no light
from the east reached the battling ships. The cannonading which all along
had been terrific was now growing sublime. Three hundred heavily shotted
guns were flashing and roaring over the dark water. The Union ships
advanced to the fray like the famous “Light Brigade,” with cannon to the
right of them, to the left of them and before them. Probably it was the
most picturesque naval battle in the world’s history. Thirty-four armed
vessels and two great forts were struggling in the early morning. The sun
seemed to stand still in the heavens. The light of the guns was brighter
than the orb of day, and Farragut’s gunners had to aim at the cannon
flashes from the rebel forts. The forts themselves were not visible. The
vessels of the enemy were not visible. Our ships were striking great
blows in the dark and they always struck with deadly effect. From points
above the rebels pushed great fire barges loaded with blazing pitch and
cotton into the stream. These rafts came floating down and when they did
not ignite our ships they illuminated them for the Confederate marksmen.
A flaming fire raft was hurled against the “Hartford” and flames ran from
the water’s edge to the mast top. The well trained crew extinguished the
fire and within five minutes the “Hartford” destroyed a rebel steamer
filled with boarding parties. The “Brooklyn,” another Union ship,
encountered a fire raft and for a time lay helpless before the merciless
guns of Fort Jackson. Disentangling herself, she steamed up to the fort
and poured such withering broadsides into it that its guns were silenced
for a time, and the gunners were seen by the ship’s crew as they peered
through the cannon-lighted portholes, to be fleeing from their guns. At
this time the vessels which had passed the forts were doing good work,
and the stream was filled with wrecked and burning Confederate gunboats.
Fire rafts and wrecks came drifting down side by side, and frequently
one of the latter would explode with a loud report. The low, curved iron
rams glided about like gigantic serpents of the sea. Boarding parties
were overrunning some vessels and being repulsed from others. It was an
awful, dazzling and furiously shifting panorama. The last ship to pass
the forts on that memorable morning was the “Penola.” In the light of a
blazing raft she received the discharge of the forty guns of St. Philip,
and passed on to join the victorious fleet above. “And thus,” says
Farragut’s son, “was accomplished a feat in naval warfare which had no
precedent, and which is still without a parallel except the one furnished
by Farragut himself two years later at Mobile.”

On the morning of the next day the fleet moved up to New Orleans. At
noon Captain Bailey was sent to demand of the mayor of the city its
unconditional surrender, and that the flag of Louisiana be removed from
the City Hall. The mayor refused to haul down the flag or to make a
formal surrender of the city. While the officers and men of the fleet
were attending divine service the next day, they were startled by the
discharge of a howitzer from the main mast of the “Pensacola.” The
watchman in the rigging had seen four men tear down the flag of the
Union from the roof of the mint, and had at once fired the gun which was
trained on the flag staff.

On the 28th the forts surrendered to Commander Porter, who had been
pounding away at them with his mortars. May 1st, General Butler and his
troops entered New Orleans, and Farragut turned the city over to him.
His administration was vigorous, but was hateful to the citizens. He
hanged Mumford, the leader of the mob which tore the Union flag from the
mint; he issued his celebrated woman order which placed every female who
insulted a Union soldier on the level of the street walker; he treated
with severity a Mrs. Phillips, who jeered at the remains of a Union
soldier. He is condemned for all of these things by very many people.
Many dishonest things were done during his administration, but repose,
vigor and security were the characteristics of it. General Butler was
a just, efficient, straightforward tyrant, not cruel, but possessed of
an inflexible determination to make his will the law and to make his
cause succeed. After General Butler came General Banks. He endeavored to
restore loyalty to the state by good treatment, but fell into the error
of reposing trust in a type of men who could not understand freedom nor
adopt even a business patriotism for the sake of their own prosperity.

By the census of 1880 New Orleans showed for three-quarters of a century
of American rule a population of 216,000 people, of whom 175,000 are
natives of the United States, and only 58,000 are colored people. New
Orleans stood the tenth of American cities, with more than 36,000 houses,
and more than 45,000 families. Although the manufactures of New Orleans
were in their infancy they had an annual product of nineteen million
dollars, and paid nearly four million dollars a year wages. Looking over
the list of states to discover the origin of the people of New Orleans,
the remarkable fact appears that of her 216,000 people more then 151,000
are natives of Louisiana. The neighboring state of Mississippi has not
put thirty-eight hundred souls into New Orleans. Alabama, which is within
two or three hours’ ride by cars, has not two thousand native children in
New Orleans, but New York has over two thousand of her progeny settled in
New Orleans, and Virginia has 4,300. Of the 41,000 foreign population,
nearly 7,000 are natives of France, showing that there is a constant
immigration, as in the days of Bienville, from old France to new France.
Germany has contributed to New Orleans 14,000 emigrants. About the same
number have come to New Orleans from Great Britain and Ireland. Spain
has contributed about 800 of her natives, Italy about 2,000, Switzerland
nearly 500, Mexico only 300, and the West Indies scarcely 400. These
are suggestive figures, and show that since the great rebellion those
elements go to the far South which have the most original emigrating
spirit and the greater variety of self-sustaining trades and pursuits.
A man who can do nothing, make nothing, improve nothing, has the least
of all motives to emigrate. The debt of New Orleans was about seventeen
million dollars at the last advices, considerably less than the debts of
Baltimore and Washington, but some four millions more than the debt of
Chicago. Railroads and other municipal improvements were responsible for
a good deal of this debt.

Since the war New Orleans has been transformed from the likeness of a
quiet old French city like Orleans which gave it name, to the appearance
of a new French city with pretty relics here and there, and strong
cosmopolitan attachments. The great river which sweeps in splendid curves
past this city has compelled the streets to conform to some extent to
its shores, but the consequence is a charming disposition of streets to
both those who hate crooked streets, and those who hate straight ones.
The town may be likened to the spokes of a wheel with streets laid
out between the spokes in both directions, and conforming to them to
some extent. In front of the city stretches the great bank called the
levee, at the foot of which ride the majestic steamers which come from
all portions of the Mississippi valley and are often like palaces in
cardboard, and since the jetties have been made a success by Captain Eads
and the United States engineers, you also see at New Orleans, riding
cosily, the huge steamships from New York, Liverpool and Cuba. The chief
maritime lines from New York to Texas now stop at New Orleans and the
journey is continued by rail. This great levee, which is an artificial
hill thrown up to keep the river back, is lined with the sugar hogsheads
and cotton bales of the South, with coal and iron, plows and stoves, kegs
of nails, merchandise assembled from all parts of the globe, and massive
presses driven by steam to further compress the bales of cotton and
reduce them in bulk for shipment. A canal runs through the city, and its
other termination is on Lake Pontchartrain. At the lake is a beautiful
new resort built in recent years, nearly as agreeable as Chautauqua Lake,
and the peculiar Creole and negro cooking of New Orleans is to be found
in perfection there, as well as at the Spanish fort, in the environs
of the city. The shops of New Orleans are open to the air all winter
long, and art of a local nature is taking root there. Whatever the Gulf
produces is to be seen at the Creole capital, and a visit to it for even
a few days is the next thing to a trip to Europe.



There is a Chautauqua further on. First, there is a lake level, and
just above it is the level of the “Point,” with its pleasant grass, its
winding walks, its old Auditorium, shaded and hallowed with memories
that have grown through multiplying years. The old cottages, and many
of the old cottagers remain about this Auditorium—reminders of the old
times, and the oldest times, of Chautauqua, when the first vesper service
announced that “The Day Goeth Away,” and the “Nearer My God to Thee,”
rang out under these forest arches. Who that was there can ever forget
that hour? The altars were aglow that night, and hearts on fire. It was
an experiment, but from the first it was an assured success. The time
will come when the remaining sharers in that first feast in the evening
light will be very few, and the last of them will receive honor, and the
children of Chautauqua will listen to their story as with quivering lips
and kindling eye they speak about that first evening under the trees,
the words that broke the sacred silence, the songs that bore praise and
wonder and joy to the heavens, and the friendships that were formed there
never to be broken.

How many who joined in the first Chautauqua service have already “fallen
on sleep” and gone out into a world sleepless and without nightfall,
where, for vesper chant are substituted the hallelujahs of an eternal

But let us go up higher. Beyond the Point and Auditorium level are the
terraces that run along the hillside, one above another, gardens and
cottages, with pathways and winding roads, leading up under welcome
shadows to a higher Chautauqua—a long stretch of table-land crowned now
with Temple and Chapel, Pyramid, Museum and Hall of Philosophy, while
beyond, in the open fields toward the north we reach the highest point
of our Assembly grounds, one of the highest on the lake. Thus from the
landing and the beginning of our journey we ascend from the lowest to the
highest, and find beauty, delight, pleasant welcomes and rewards all the

This study in the lay of the land which makes the physical Chautauqua is
an allegory. There is an upper Chautauqua. And not all who visit the
place see it, and not all who become Chautauquans reach it.

The Chautauqua movement is progressive, and its friends and students
are expected to make advancement in the line of its conceptions and
provisions. It has court beyond court in which it unfolds its progressive
aims and introduces its disciples to the higher privileges of culture
which it provides. No fences or lines mark these successive stages. They
do not correspond with the topographical elevations, although we have
found in the one a figure or symbol of the other. But such gradation
exists, and I shall point it out.

I. THE ASSEMBLY—Is the first point of approach to the true Chautauqua.
It is the outer court open to the whole world. It has no restraints upon
those who come, save those which are necessary to guarantee a financial
support to the institution, and those rules of ordinary decorum which
are essential to the quiet enjoyment and profit of those who pay their
tribute and wait for the promised compensation. And this compensation
comes in lectures on the widest range of topics, from the “Philosophy
of Locke and Berkeley” to the light and cheery discussions about “Fools
and their Folly.” Concerts by gifted artists, characterizations by rare
impersonators, illustrations of life and manners in remote regions,
by the aid of costumer and _tableaux vivants_, stories of travel,
with photographic accompaniments colored, magnified, and illuminated;
sermons by able ministers, lessons by competent teachers, attractions
for lighthearted youth and wearied but rational age, in bonfires,
processions, fireworks, illuminated fleets—these are the features of
the outer court of Chautauqua for the entertainment, awakening, and
broadening of people who come with no far-reaching or serious purpose,
but who come to “hear” and “see” and have “a good time.” They are simply
recipients. The will-power lies dormant, save as some stirring statement
of lecture or sermon, or some unsyllabled passage in music opens the
soul to the worlds all about it replete with marvel, beauty and power.
So much for the outer Chautauqua. There are those who see this—only this
and nothing more. They come and go. They wonder why they and others
come, and yet they think they may come again—but are not sure. They do
not forget Chautauqua, and they do not “go wild” over it. They smile at
other people, whom they call “fanatics,” because they are full of it, and
“bound to come again,” and to “come every year,” and always, and “would
be willing to live there.” These have seen the Upper Chautauqua—for
beyond the “Assembly” is

II. THE CIRCLE.—It is another court—further in, and a little higher
up—with a white-pillared hall among the trees—“The Hall in the Grove,”
about which a book has been written, and in which songs are sung and
weird services held, and where strange inspirations fall on people. For
those who belong to the Circle—the “C. L. S. C.” as everybody calls
it—are advanced Chautauquans. They know why they come to the place. And
they know when to come. They keep a calendar, and they mark the feasts,
and they know what to do when they are there. They seem at home. There
are hosts of them—all knowing each other, and apparently bound together
by some secret association which has a mystic power. They wear badges on
certain days, badges of different styles and colors and legends. In all
this there is something singular and beautiful.

This “Circle” is a company of pledged readers in wide ranges of
literature. The “Assembly” contains people who listen. The “Circle”
is made up of people who read. The “Assembly” covers a few weeks. The
“Circle” casts its canopy over the year and the years. The “Assembly” is
at Chautauqua. The “Circle” carries Chautauqua to the world’s end—to the
east and to the west, to Canada, to Florida, to Scotland, to the Sandwich
Islands, to India, and Japan, to Cape Colony—everywhere.

The members of the “Circle” stand on a higher plane than the Assembly,
because they put will into the work. They read what they ought, for
months and years, everywhere, getting larger views of the world, and
worthier views of life, and nobler views of the race, and of God the
Father of all.

The “Circle” takes a wide sweep in the world of letters. Its themes
are those of the college world. It puts the preparatory and college
curriculums into good, readable English, and helps people out of college
to know what is going on there; what the young people study in history,
language, and literature; what authors they read, and what estimate is to
be placed on them and their work. It gives glimpses of science, physical
and metaphysical—pointing down to the rocks and up to the stars, and
about to the fields and seas and the forms of life in plant and animal.
Whatever college boys study, the “Circle” provides in some form and
degree for parents to read, that home and college may be one in outlook
and sympathy, in aim and delight. But there is something beyond.

III. THE INNER CIRCLE.—Beyond the readers are the students—those who
have completed the four years’ reading in the “Circle,” and the members
of the “Society of the Hall in the Grove;” have filled out the various
memoranda; have certain seals on their C. L. S. C. diplomas, testifying
to this fact, and to the reading of the additional books. These walk on
the higher levels. Their names are enrolled in the “Order of the White
Seal.” Their faces are turned toward the Upper Chautauqua.

It is possible that the members of the C. L. S. C. who walk in the
inner circle may meet those who rank with them, although they have come
hither by other routes—through the “Chautauqua Teachers’ Retreat,”
the “Chautauqua Spare Minute Courses,” and the “Chautauqua Assembly
Normal Courses.” As students, they all rejoice in the larger places of
Chautauqua. But there are heights beyond these heights.

“Hearers,” “readers,” “student-readers,” successively mark the three
ascending grades of the Chautauqua movement, as outlined in the
“Assembly,” the “Circle,” and the “Inner Circle.” Beyond these three
stages, we come to

IV. THE UNIVERSITY CIRCLE.—Here are members of “The League of the Round
Table,” whose seven seals on the C. L. S. C. diploma entitle them to
this higher honor. Here, too, are advanced students in the “Chautauqua
School of Languages;” these walk in the outer courts and among the sacred
corridors adjoining the University itself. Chautauqua now means more than
ever to them. The towers of the University rise above them. They ask why
its doors may not open to them, and why they may not rejoice in work,
real work, with after-tests in genuine examinations, and after-honors in
diploma and degrees.

Some remain in this goodly place, hearing the songs that float down from
the higher halls, enjoying converse with their fellows of the grander
degree, and encouraging other and younger and more vigorous companions to
go up and possess the land. Others knock at the door by the upper step,
and as it opens, they enter the fifth and highest form of the Chautauqua

V. THE UNIVERSITY, with its schools, colleges, and _academiae_;
its teachers and professors, its text-books and tasks, its rigid
examinations, and its promotions. Concerning the UNIVERSITY, I shall
write later on.



_First Week_ (ending February 7).—1. “College Greek Course,” from page 83
to 107.

2. “Chemistry,” chapters I, II and III.

3. “How to Help the Poor,” from page 1 to 32.

4. “How English Differs from other Languages,” in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

5. Sunday Readings for February 1, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Second Week_ (ending February 14).—1. “College Greek Course,” from page
107 to 133.

2. “Chemistry,” chapters IV and V.

3. “How to Help the Poor,” from page 32 to 66.

4. “Temperance Teachings of Science” and “Home Studies in Chemistry and

5. Sunday Readings for February 8, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Third Week_ (ending February 21).—1. “College Greek Course,” from page
133 to 154.

2. “Chemistry,” chapters VI and VII.

3. “How to Help the Poor,” from page 66 to 92.

4. “Kitchen Science and Art,” in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

5. Sunday Readings for February 15, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Fourth Week_ (ending February 28).—1. “College Greek Course,” from page
154 to 187.

2. “Chemistry,” chapter VIII.

3. “How to Help the Poor,” from page 92 to 125.

4. “The Circle of Sciences” and “Huxley on Science,” in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

5. Sunday Readings for February 22, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.



1. Essay—The Life of Plato.

2. Selection—“Translators of Homer.” From the “Prose Writings of William
Cullen Bryant,” vol. ii.

3. Fifteen minutes’ talk on Home Decoration.

4. Select Reading—Extracts from the Life of Pericles, found in “The Young
Folks’ Plutarch.”


5. Essay—Lavoisier and the Phlogiston Theory

[In the “History of the Inductive Sciences,” by Whewell, a good reference
will be found.]

6. What we have all seen (mentally, perhaps,) at New Orleans this week.
[Reports being made by each one of what he has read, heard or witnessed.]

7. Report of Critic, who is to be appointed at the beginning of the
evening, and who is to note and correct all mistakes.


1. Roll call—Quotations from Æschylus, taken from the “College Greek

2. Essay—Socrates.

3. Select Reading—“Valentine’s Day.” By Charles Lamb. [Found in his


4. A General Talk on Huxley and his Teachings. [Let each one come
prepared to read or tell something about him.]

5. Essay—The Greek Drama.

6. Debate—Resolved, that it is wrong to feed tramps.


    “He tried the luxury of doing good.”


1. Roll-call—Quotations on the Companionship of Books.

2. Essay—New Departures in Education.

[Reference can be made to Pestalozzi, Froebel, Col. Parker, and others.]


3. Recitation—Alone with My Conscience.

[Found in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for October, 1884.]

4. A Paper on the Chautauqua Institutions.


5. Select Reading—Proper Method of Employing Time. By Addison.

6. A _Conversazione_—Subject: What Chautauqua has done for me. [Entered
into informally by all members of the circle.]



    “High as our hearts he stood.”

1. Roll call—Quotations from Longfellow.

2. Let several members who have been appointed beforehand give brief
accounts of different periods of the poet’s life, such as: His early
life, his years in college, his life as a college professor, his travels
abroad, his literary work, his home in the Craigie House, and his love
for children.


3. Recitation—“The Hanging of the Crane.”

4. Select Reading—Extracts from “Outre-Mer.”


5. Essay—Longfellow’s Characteristics as a Writer.

6. Recitation—“The Poet and the Children.” By John G. Whittier.

7. A Paper—The Tributes to Longfellow by Eminent Men and Women.

8. An analytical study of the poem “Sandalphon.”

       *       *       *       *       *

A delightful Longfellow entertainment may be arranged from “Evangeline”
or “Miles Standish.” The poem chosen should be carefully cut so as not to
require more than an hour for reading. Let a good reader be chosen, and
as he reads let the most picturesque and striking passages be represented
by tableaux.

Help in preparing programs for Longfellow’s Day may be found in the
following articles: _The Century_, June, 1882, “Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow,” poem; _The Century_, October, 1883, “Longfellow;” _The
Century_, November, 1878, “Henry Wadsworth Longfellow;” Allibone’s
“Dictionary of Authors;” Griswold, “Poets and Poetry of America;”
Duyckinck, “Cyclopædia of American Literature,” vol. ii.; _North American
Review_, January 1840, July 1842, July 1845, and January 1848; _Fraser’s
Magazine_, March 1848; _British Quarterly Review_ for January and
April 1864; _The Literary World_, vol. xii., No. 5; “Homes of American
Authors,” by George William Curtis; “American Classics for Schools,” vol.
i; “Longfellow Leaflets”—these convenient little slips have been prepared
for schools, but will be found very useful for large circles. They may be
had of Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, Mass.



“_We Study the Word and the Works of God._”—“_Let us keep our Heavenly
Father in the Midst._”—“_Never be Discouraged._”


    1. OPENING DAY—October 1.

    2. BRYANT DAY—November 3.

    3. SPECIAL SUNDAY—November, second Sunday.

    4. MILTON DAY—December 9.

    5. COLLEGE DAY—January, last Thursday.

    6. SPECIAL SUNDAY—February, second Sunday.

    7. FOUNDER’S DAY—February 23.

    8. LONGFELLOW DAY—February 27.

    9. SHAKSPERE DAY—April 23.

    10. ADDISON DAY—May 1.

    11. SPECIAL SUNDAY—May, second Sunday.

    12. SPECIAL SUNDAY—July, second Sunday.

    13. INAUGURATION DAY—August, first Saturday after first
    Tuesday; anniversary of C. L. S. C. at Chautauqua.

    14. ST. PAUL’S DAY—August, second Saturday after first Tuesday;
    anniversary of the dedication of St. Paul’s Grove at Chautauqua.

    15. COMMENCEMENT DAY—August, third Tuesday.

    16. GARFIELD DAY—September 19.

One of the most profitable half hours of the local circle evening is
that spent in general conversation on a particular topic. It furnishes
a practice which is of incalculable value. At the same time it is not
possible to put a number on a program of which it is more difficult to
make a perfect success. Of course many circles have learned the art of
talking. At SHILOH, N. Y., the “Atlantic” circle of sixteen members, a
busy, prosperous organization, to introduce variety into their programs,
often hold a “meeting of informal conversation,” but very many of us can
not succeed. At the root of our trouble lies that totally false idea
that the ability to converse is the gift of a few. When leaders suggest
a _conversazione_ the difficulties presented seem almost insurmountable.
The members contend that they can not talk; they will not try; they urge
that while history and science make excellent studies, they are too
“heavy” for conversation; they fly the subject and intrude a chit-chat
which totally destroys serious conversation. Some time ago we saw
successfully tried in a circle of about twenty members, the following
method for cultivating conversation: The subject was introduced by the
leader in a brief and earnest talk. He showed the barrenness of ideas
and the lack of fine and exact expression in our social converse. He
urged the possibility and the duty of every one becoming an entertaining
talker. An interest was thoroughly aroused, and a vote was carried by
the society to devote a half hour to talking on subjects suggested by
the C. L. S. C. readings. Each member promised to confine himself to
the subject, to come prepared to follow the whole subject, and to give
particular items on certain points. Members were bound to ask questions,
to look up pictures to illustrate, anecdotes to enliven and wise words
to enforce the points brought out. They learned to talk, and to talk on
worthy subjects. Their experience soon grew to be a little like that
which happened to a member of the HOLLISTER, CALIFORNIA, circle. A lady
meeting her, remarked: “I am getting jealous of those Chautauquans, for
if two of them meet they can talk of nothing but those old Greeks.”
Our friends grew to talk so well that a lady, applying for admission,
said: “I want to join your society, for it seems to me that a society
which inspires so much intelligent conversation must be very valuable.”
Every circle of the C. L. S. C. which has had experience in this work
should lend to others its ideas and suggestions. But now let us turn
to something which is much easier to chat over than are methods for
improving ourselves in conversation—our circles.

NOVA SCOTIA gives no hint in its report from the HALIFAX C. L. S. C.
of the bleakness which we usually associate with its stormy northern
coast. This Halifax circle announces itself in a flourishing condition,
with a regular membership of fifteen and with twenty or thirty regular
attendants. The growth of the work in Nova Scotia is apparent to them and
they look for an addition of many members soon. Already the number of
members in Nova Scotia is nearly double that of last year.

At the extreme eastern point of MAINE, in the pretty village of LUBEC,
the “Pansies” have taken root. The busy little “Quoddy” circle of eight
members forms the nucleus around which, we trust, will collect a future
legion of as interested members as are our present friends.——Another
Pine-Tree state town, BROWNFIELD, has a circle reading its third year’s
course. It would be difficult, they think, to find more enthusiastic
workers.——On the southern point of the beautiful Moosehead Lake, in the
town of GREENVILLE, a circle of “Plymouth Rocks” was founded in November,
1884. The class express increasing interest in their readings, and are
confident of a large growth in numbers during the year. The “North Star”
is the pretty name they have chosen for their circle.

NEW HAMPSHIRE sends two year-old circles to our columns this month.
One from TILTON reorganized last fall with twenty-four members. They
meet fortnightly and remember all the memorial days. May their name,
“Winnipisaukee,” prove auspicious, and the “smile of the Great Spirit”
be ever with them.——The “St. Paul” circle, which was organized in the
fall of 1883, at MANCHESTER, N. H., but not reported to THE CHAUTAUQUAN,
was reorganized last fall with a membership of thirty-seven. They have
in the circle twenty-one of the class of ’88, while only five are of the
class of ’87—a proof that the “Chautauqua Idea” is growing in favor. They
prepare interesting programs consisting of essays, readings, talks, etc.
Also, they use the “Chautauqua Songs,” and find them a great help.

The circle at PLAINFIELD, VERMONT, consists of fourteen hard working
members and is in its first year. They find great enjoyment in their
reading. Last November, the loss by death of one of their most active and
loved members, Mrs. F. A. Drinell, threw a shadow over their circle, but
they have persisted in their work.——To the numbers of pretty programs
which have come to our table has been added a neatly painted one from
RUTLAND, VT., a souvenir of the Milton Memorial Reception held by the
“Alpha” branch of the C. L. S. C. This entertainment was very highly
complimented by the local press.

A member of the “Mizpah” circle of NEW BEDFORD, MASS., pays a very high
compliment to the character of that circle’s work. He writes that he has
learned more of Greek history and literature in the four meetings which
their circle had held when he wrote, than in all the time he gave last
year to solitary study. Certainly the circle must be accomplishing its
design of doing “solid work.” Nor are their numbers, though but six,
a drawback. A small circle, if perfectly congenial, has some strong
advantages.——Last month EAST WEYMOUTH, MASS., reported the circle which
has had such a vigorous growth this year. Now we hear of a new circle
in the sister city of SOUTH WEYMOUTH, and very soon we may hope to do
something more than formally introduce our new friend.——The “Parker
Hill” local circle, of BOSTON, organized in September, 1883, has become
so much interested in the circles which month after month send their
greetings and their suggestions to THE CHAUTAUQUAN’S columns, that it
joins our number. Very glad we are to present it—the only circle, so
far as we remember, composed entirely of young men. Thirteen of them
form this club, all of them connected with the Highland Congregational
Church, of which the Rev. A. E. Dunning, the honored president of the
“Plymouth Rocks,” has been pastor. A particularly happy suggestion, it
seems to us, is contained in a special feature of their program. They
require each member to suggest at each meeting, in writing, some subject
for the next meeting’s program. These suggestions being read by the
president, the circle selects from them a sufficient number of topics to
occupy the allotted time. The subjects are then assigned to the various
members.——From two other Massachusetts circles come pleasant letters. One
from CAPE COD says: “We call ourselves the ‘Seaside’ circle, and our name
is very appropriate, for ‘the sea’ lies both east and south of us. We are
located in the ‘elbow’ of the ‘right arm’ of Massachusetts, and scarce
an hour in our lives passes that we do not feel the invigorating breezes
of the Atlantic Ocean. At present we number fourteen regular and three
local members, one ’85, four ’87s, and the rest ’88s. Our enthusiasm is
great, and, as is the experience of every local circle, increases with
every meeting.”——And another from FALMOUTH: “Our ‘Neptune’ circle is
prosperously started this year with twenty-three active members. We are
encouraged, as this is more than double our last year’s membership. We
try to keep the line of study for each evening separate, one evening
being devoted to science, another to Greek. Last week we took up the
‘Iliad,’ different members giving five-minute sketches of its gods and
heroes. At other meetings we have had successful experiments in carbon
and hydrogen. Our local badges bear the letters C. L. S. C., with the
trident, the symbol of our circle.” With this letter the writer sends a
bit of experience which is very interesting. “Last summer,” she writes,
“while visiting the ‘Morning Star,’ as she lay at the wharf before
starting on her noble life work, I found the C. L. S. C. books in the
captain’s library. I never before so fully realized the bond of sympathy
between Chautauquans. Mrs. Bray, the captain’s wife, told me that she and
her husband belonged to the class of ’85. They take the readings together
while far out on the deep.”

CONNECTICUT has a goodly array of items for the month. NORWICH sends us
several of its capital programs; peculiarly attractive is the one for
Milton’s Day.——BRISTOL reports a circle of twenty-four members, organized
in October last, and boasts, most justly, of ten school teachers in
its ranks. All the regular work arranged for circles they have been
performing, and report most pleasant special meetings on Bryant and
Milton Days.——WINSTED has sent us a New Year greeting. A happy circle
they are, with their enormous membership of sixty-one members, and “not
one lazy one in our ranks,” the secretary writes.——At NEW BRITAIN the
Milton Day service was very pleasant. The professor of English literature
in the State Normal School gave a talk on Milton, and the evening closed
with a question match.

The plan of reviewing each work read has been adopted at BRISTOL, R. I.
An unusually interesting review was prepared on the “Art of Speech.” The
epitome which the writer gives of the opening chapter will not only be
interesting, it may serve to disentangle some one’s ideas on the puzzling
growth of English:

    With Chapter first our toil begins,
    ’Tis like a penance for our sins
        To try to read it over.
    We read it once, we read it twice,
    With close attention read it thrice,
        Its meaning to discover.

    We find, at last, that English speech
    Through long succeeding years, doth reach
        Back to primeval ages.
    From Aryan root it sprang at first—
    How long ago, tell us who durst—
        And grew by easy stages.

    Teutonic trunk and German branch
    And Saxon twig grew strong and stanch,
        And Norman foliage crowned it;
    From Latin grafts it gained new strength
    And from Greek scions, too, at length
        Grew thrifty leaves around it.

    The fruits upon the wondrous tree,
    If we should test, we soon should see
        Have many foreign flavors.
    From Spanish, Dutch, and Portuguese,
    Italian, Indian, and Chinese,
        Have they derived their savors.

The “Knowledge Seekers,” of JAMESTOWN, R. I., form a new circle. Until
this year they were a branch of the local circle in NEWPORT, but as six
members were added they have formed a circle of their own.——“Pawcatuck”
local circle, of the ’88 class, C. L. S. C., was organized September
23, 1884, in the village of CAROLINA, a small manufacturing place in
southern Rhode Island. The circle has now twenty-four members and meets
weekly. Considering the fact that there are only about 375 inhabitants
in the place, in all, and that fully one half of this number are mill
operatives, the size of the circle is remarkable. The members are all
thoroughly interested in the work, and are taking hold of it in a very
commendable manner.

From all directions throughout NEW YORK STATE good news of growing
circles reaches us. Away up north, in JEFFERSON COUNTY, in the village of
ADAMS, there has been organized “a real live C. L. S. C.” It is modeled
on the broad Chautauquan platform, and has three churches represented
in its officers. The program of their Bryant Memorial Day exercises was
a model of happily chosen selections, and we learn from the columns of
their local paper that it was as happily rendered.——A very profitable
plan of assigning subjects is followed at KINGSTON, N. Y., in their
circle of seven members. Each member is given, at the beginning of the
year, a subject from the C. L. S. C. readings, to which he devotes his
entire attention; thus our correspondent writes that during last year
she furnished outlines and questions upon the subject of “Art,” and that
this year her theme is “Kitchen Science and Art.” We like the plan.——In
the pleasant town of MOUNT KISCO, not far from New York City, there
is a circle which dates back to a public meeting in the interests of
the C. L. S. C. held by one of the pastors of the town, in the fall of
1882. A thriving circle of the class of 1886 still exists there. Their
plan of work is very comprehensive, including Chautauqua music, general
discussions, essays and social observance of the special days.——The
ITHACA, N. Y., C. L. S. C. has a membership of forty-six of the classes
of ’85, ’86, ’87 and ’88. The meetings, held bi-monthly, are full of life
and interest. They observe memorial days generally. One of their most
active members has moved to CAZENOVIA, N. Y., Mrs. Rev. H. F. Spencer,
vice president. She writes: “Our circle, here, is in embryo—think
how prosy to come down to a circle of three or four.”——The NEWFIELD
circle of fifteen members was organized last fall, and held their
meetings every Friday evening. Their president, the Rev. W. H. Rogers,
is a graduate of the class of ’82.——In an interesting letter from the
president of a circle at BINGHAMTON, N. Y., we have found some very good
hints. He says: “Here in Binghamton our circle numbers twenty. We call
ourselves the ‘F. F. F.’ circle, from our motto: ‘Fortiter, fideliter,
feliciter’—bravely, faithfully, successfully. Two things our programs
all include: First, devotional exercises, remembering that ‘we study the
_Word_’ as well as ‘the works of God.’ We use the Chautauqua hymns, all
singing together and greatly enjoy it. Secondly, roll call. This is one
of our most interesting exercises. We respond by quotations from one or
more authors, specially designated for the evening, and keep a record of
every quotation given. In this way we are compiling what promises to be
a very interesting book of choice quotations. Our members are very much
in earnest, and every meeting finds them all present.”——The history of
one of the circles at OLEAN, N. Y., has been sent us by its secretary:
“The ‘Whitney’ circle (Baptist) was so named in honor of the venerable
Dr. Whitney, one of the fathers of the First Baptist Church. This circle
was organized in the fall of 1883, with a membership of thirty. This
fall we have reorganized, with a membership that bids fair to double
that of last year. Each member, in alphabetical order, takes part in the
exercises, and are nearly all active workers. Our meetings open with the
‘Chautauqua Songs,’ followed by the roll call, each member answering with
an apt quotation from the readings. Our program then consists of a drill
on subjects gone over in the readings for the past two weeks. Two essays,
on subjects in harmony with the readings, are read each evening. We also
have interesting scientific experiments conducted by Dr. S. J. Mudge, a
scientist of this city. We have introduced a novel feature called the
‘Tug of War,’ in which sides are chosen in spelling-down style, and
questions asked on a book which has been completed. Guesses at the Greek
alphabet and Greek words are also features of our programs. We also
observe some of the memorial days. Last summer our superintendent, the
Rev. MacClymont, secured Chancellor Vincent to lecture for us. We invited
the M. E. circle, and had a splendid lecture. Taken altogether, we may
say our circle is in a prosperous and flourishing condition.”

The KEYSTONE STATE is in no way behind New England and its EMPIRE
neighbor this month in reports. From CONNELSVILLE, on the banks of the
Youghiogheny, comes a hearty greeting to all C. L. S. C. classmates.
It is from the sturdy “Spartans,” of the class of ’88. The circle,
organized on Opening Day, numbered at its start twenty-four members.
The “Athenian” circle of ’86 and the “Pansy” circle of ’87 proposed a
consolidation of forces; so large was the circle that a public meeting
place was necessary. The best talent of the city is in the circle, and
to belong to its rank is a good recommendation wherever the circle is
known.——At MOUNT PLEASANT, PA., a circle was formed in October consisting
of fifty-one members, all but four of which belong to the class of ’88.
They promise us a full report when fairly started in their work.——A
friend at VERONA, PA., writes: “Our name is the ‘Verona Resolutes,’ our
age two months, our number fifteen. We owe our existence to the fact
that three of our new members attended Chautauqua Lake Assembly, and one
Mountain Lake Park Assembly, where they caught the C. L. S. C. fever,
and upon returning home spread the disease until fifteen are found upon
the fever list. We are enjoying it, though, and hope our recovery will
be slow, if _recovery_ means loss of interest.”——WEST PHILADELPHIA has
a new circle—the “Parsonage” circle. They number six and promise to try
to increase their list. No doubt their efforts will succeed, the present
circle being due to the efforts of three members who last year read
alone.——The _Elizabeth Herald_, of ELIZABETH, PA., contained recently
the following pleasant notice of the circle in that town: “CHAUTAUQUA
CIRCLE.—This flourishing institution is pursuing a course of study and
research and enjoying an exchange of ideas, which is a veritable reveling
in intellectual and social pleasures, unknown to many of the community
whose congenial tastes and capabilities would, if properly directed
and cultured, lead them to a sharing of these delights, so far above
the frivolities too common to young life. For instance, at the regular
meeting of this week, in addition to the regular quiz and discussion of
the set topics, the Milton Memorial Day was observed with services of
an appropriate nature. The evening was a most pleasant one throughout,
and after the regular program was concluded the members, loth to leave,
remained, singing and talking in pleasant, informal fashion, for some
time.”——We are pleased to notice here, a kindly compliment to the
president of the flourishing circle of thirty at WASHINGTON, Professor
Lyon, of Washington and Jefferson College. Our friend says of him: “In
our studies in chemistry, etc., we have the benefit of his knowledge and
skill, and obliging disposition, for he always carries from the college
to our rooms the apparatus needed for explanation and experiment.” This
circle held a “sociable” on the evening of December 11th, each member
inviting a friend. It was an enjoyable affair and may be the means of
adding members.——In kind remembrance of Mary Vincent, the mother of
Chancellor Vincent, the members of the C. L. S. C. at PETERSBURG, PA.
have named their circle the “Mary Vincent” circle—a peculiarly fitting
tribute, Mrs. Vincent having been well known and deeply honored by many
Chautauquans in that vicinity.

The CINCINNATI, OHIO, members of the S. H. G. held their yearly reception
to the new class, in the pleasant parlor of the First Presbyterian
Church, in October. The “Irrepressibles” were right royally received. The
president of the society, Mr. J. G. O’Connell, welcomed the class into
the society. The following were the toasts, to which hearty responses
were given: “The Class of ’82;” “Class of ’83;” “Class of ’84;” “The
Founder of the C. L. S. C.—Chancellor J. H. Vincent;” “Chautauqua, the
Mecca of the C. L. S. C.;” “Cincinnati Circles;” “Chautauqua Music.” The
musical part of the program was unusually fine. The collation was a part
of the program in which every one present took part. The following are
the officers for the ensuing year: President, Mr. J. G. O’Connell, ’82:
vice presidents: Class of ’82, Mrs. M. J. Pyle; class of ’83, Mrs. I. W.
Joyce; class of ’84, Miss Sarah Trotter; recording secretary, Miss Julia
Kolbe; corresponding secretary, Mr. M. S. Turrill; treasurer, Miss Selina
Wood. The society separated brimful of enthusiasm for the success of the
C. L. S. C. Bryant’s Day was celebrated by the Cincinnati circles at the
Third Presbyterian Church. Mr. S. Logan presided. Among the excellent
things on the program were an essay on W. C. Bryant, by Mr. J. A.
Johnson, a piano solo by Miss Belle Burnham, and a recitation, “Waiting
by the Gate,” by Miss Nellie Allan. A union vesper service was held by
the circles at Grace M. P. Church, on the Special Sunday, November 9th.
The service was conducted by the Rev. Mr. Spohr, of Grace Church, and Dr.
Ridgeway, of Mount Auburn, gave a very fine address upon “Praise.” This
being the “Greek” year in the C. L. S. C. course, the various circles
have added to their names that letter of the Greek alphabet which will
indicate their rank in order of organization.——The local circle of MOUNT
PLEASANT, OHIO, came into existence in October of 1883. The circle has
the usual officers, and meets twice a month at the homes of the members.
The enrollment is nineteen, with a large average attendance. They have
local talent enlisted, and the meetings are instructive and interesting.
The work of 1883 and 1884 was thoroughly accomplished.

One new circle enters the list this month from FRIENDSWOOD, IND. It
is formed of twelve members—enthusiastic and brave they must be, for
they report themselves as living in the country several miles apart.
Not only are they overcoming the difficulty of regular meetings under
these circumstances, they are contemplating enlisting others in their
work.——Another zealous INDIANA circle is at CORYDON. It is a year old,
and believes itself to have done better work than any other circle in the
country, an assertion that their method warrants, for they have adopted
the novel plan of a C. L. S. C. school, where one member is appointed to
hear the lesson and every other comes prepared to recite. Our Corydon
friends gave a delightful Milton reception to over thirty guests.——The
C. L. S. C. local circle of FORT WAYNE began its fifth year’s work on
Garfield Day—officers were elected, and seventeen new members added.
The subjects under consideration are conducted in a conversational
manner. One evening was devoted to chemistry, with highly interesting
and successful experiments given by the leader, who is professor of
science at the M. E. College. They have held one “Sunday Evening Vesper
Service,” which proved such an inspiration that they purpose having more.
“At the age of five years,” they write, “we are truly ‘Irrepressible,’
‘Invincible,’ and as firm and steady as old Plymouth Rock itself.”
Altogether “we are a live and enthusiastic circle, possessed with the
true ‘Chautauqua Idea.’”

A letter received from a lady well known to readers of THE CHAUTAUQUAN,
Mrs. E. J. Bugbee, says of a circle lately started at EVANSTON, ILL.: “I
am happy to report from this glorious Athens of the West a flourishing
circle of the C. L. S. C., organized on the first Monday evening in
November, and numbering now between forty and fifty members. We have
started out with an enthusiasm which we hope will not abate, and indeed
we do not expect it to do so under our present fortunate leadership.
We have for president Mr. Weeden A. Sawyer, of this place. He presides
with dignity and ease, and carries forward the business of the circle
with promptness and dispatch. We are also happy in our instructor, the
Rev. F. Clatworthy, pastor of the Baptist church of Evanston, who shows
wonderful adaptation for this work, and is heartily in sympathy with
the Chautauqua Idea, and endeavors closely to follow out the plan for
local circles.”——At HINSDALE, ILL., a circle was organized in the fall
of 1882. The circle was conducted in a very informal manner, having but
one officer—secretary—“each member taking her turn as leader, and our
exercises were merely the discussions of the past week’s reading. In the
fall of 1883 we again organized, this time admitting gentlemen, electing
a president and secretary, and taking to ourselves a name, ‘The Alpha
Chautauqua Circle.’ Our membership increased to eighteen. Meeting every
Monday evening, our exercises were the same as during the preceding year.
We celebrated three of the memorial days, which proved not only pleasant
and interesting, but very instructive. This last fall our Chautauquans
were so enthusiastic that the first meeting was called for September
4th. We reorganized with only nine members; since then have admitted two
more. If it can be possible, our work this year seems more interesting
than ever. We continue to meet weekly, and have now decided to take one
text-book, or one month’s reading in THE CHAUTAUQUAN at a time, finishing
one subject before taking up another; thinking thereby to obtain a better
understanding of the same. Shall also use the questions and answers in
THE CHAUTAUQUAN, said lessons to be conducted the same as a spelling
match. The members respond to the roll call with appropriate quotations,
thus far from Greek authors. We have been too busy to observe the
memorial days this year, otherwise than by quotations from the author in
question. Two of our circle are members of the ‘Pansy’ class. One of our
number graduated last year, who is now an honorary member of the local
circle, acting as critic; and we shall have one graduate this year.”

A genuine proof of good work is this bit of experience from TECUMSEH,
MICH.: “At the beginning of this year,” the president writes, “we members
of ’86 reviewed thoroughly our Greek history for the benefit of those
of our circle belonging to the classes of ’87 and ’88. We were highly
gratified with the proficiency of the class of ’86. How well we remember
two years ago the despondency of many of the members at the hard Greek
words, and now they pronounce them with ease and fluency. Any one would
have been convinced of the benefits of the C. L. S. C. who could have
listened to those reviews of Greek history.”——The Bryant memorial was
very pleasantly observed by the local circle of ESCANABA, MICH. Mrs. W.
H. Tibbals, ’86, invited the members to dinner at 6 o’clock. Nine of the
members were present. After the repast, at which each member present
received as a souvenir a pallet painted by the hostess, the literary
feast was enjoyed. Select reading, “Early Life of the Author;” selection,
“The Rivulet;” selection, “The Autumn Woods;” essay, Bryant and his
Contemporaries; selection, “The Planting of the Apple Tree;” selection,
“The Crowded Street;” essay, Bryant, the Poet; analytical study of the
“West Wind;” questions prepared by the president.

Sad news and a beautiful tribute to the C. L. S. C. come to us from
WAUPAN, WIS., whence the secretary writes: “Our C. L. S. C. opens this
year with added enthusiasm in its membership, and an increasing number.
The Bryant Memorial Day was observed in a fitting manner by sentiments,
readings, discussion, and a biographical sketch, all bearing upon the
great poet. The selections and topics were in accord with our feelings,
as we had just met with our first loss since organizing five years ago,
in the death of one of our youngest and brightest members, Mrs. Jennie
Weed Hinkley. As we review the life of our beloved sister, we can see
a symmetry and beauty of character that needed no further lights and
shades. Our studies make us better mothers and housekeepers, better
able to take our places in the prayer meeting, better able to guide our
children, and to understand the work they do in the school room.”——The
“Pansy” class of SPARTA, WIS., also sends its greetings to all the
members of the People’s College. A friend telling the story of the
circle says: “Our little Spartan class passed through the first year
of its existence without a break in the circle, and profiting by the
favorable circumstances, observed among others, Shakspere Memorial Day
with more than the ordinary preparation, closing with a basket picnic,
served at the house of one of the members. This year, however, sickness
has overtaken two of the members, and one still remains an invalid;
nevertheless, our progress has been steady. We have observed Bryant’s and
Milton’s Days by interesting exercises.”

The C. L. S. C. is coming well to the front this year in ST. PAUL, MINN.
The year was begun by a lecture from Dr. Vincent on Monday evening,
October 6th, on the “Chautauqua Idea.” This aroused the enthusiasm of
the old Chautauquans and brought in a large addition of new members.
On Thursday evening, October 23d, the “Pioneer” circle was reorganized
with nineteen members, which have since become twenty-five. On Monday
evening, November 3d (Bryant Day), the “Canadian American” circle was
formed, with ten members. There have been at least four other circles
formed, with a membership of about eighty. On the evening of November
27th, Thanksgiving night, the “Pioneer” circle held its regular meeting
in the parlors of the First M. E. Church. All the other circles in the
city were represented, about eighty persons being present. Among the
other visitors they were delighted to welcome Prof. J. L. Corning, of
Ocean Grove, N. J., a name well known to all Chautauquans. His address
on the C. L. S. C. at Ocean Grove and the Chautauqua University was both
instructive and enjoyable. The program was in celebration of both Bryant
and Thanksgiving Days, and included essays on Bryant’s life and works and
the origin of Thanksgiving day, with selections from Bryant’s works and
Thanksgiving day poems. Altogether the evening was a very pleasant one.
They are making arrangements for forming a central circle somewhat after
the plan of the Toronto central circle and the Troy circle.

Three new circles are reported this month from IOWA. At WAPELLO a circle
of five members; at PARKERSBURG one of nine members; and at ELVIRA, one
of ten. Each reports the work as a delightful revelation, and expresses
the hope that they may be able to largely increase their numbers.——In
the fall of 1883 a circle was organized in MISSOURI VALLEY, IOWA. It
consisted of some fifteen members, some of whom, for want of time, failed
to do the reading. During the past year a number of the members left the
town, one of whom—President Sabine—graduated in the class of 1884. Though
the class is scattered, several are doing the reading.

We are always particularly glad to hear from the BLUE GRASS STATE,
perhaps because our friends there have not sent us frequent reports. This
month a friend writes of the circle at HARDENSBURG: “The C. L. S. C. of
this place is prosecuting its work with unabating energy and zeal. We
organized early in September, with eighteen members, that we might be
entirely ready for Opening Day. However, there was so much severe illness
in our town, and especially among some of the friends of our circle, that
it was late in the Circle year before we did anything more toward having
a meeting. When at last through the Father’s providence we were permitted
to meet again, we found that nearly every member had ‘read up’ to date.
We meet on Tuesday evening of each week and carry out the program as
furnished for each week in THE CHAUTAUQUAN. We keep each memorial day.”

Another Southern state to report is LOUISIANA. From LAKE PROVIDENCE this
letter comes: “We have twenty-two members between fifteen and twenty-one
years old. We meet once a week; at roll call each answers by reciting,
‘We study the Word and works of God,’ ‘Let us keep our Heavenly Father
in the midst,’ ‘Never be discouraged.’ We assign lessons from the C. L.
S. C. course for each week as given by THE CHAUTAUQUAN. In our class
the member who is most attentive, whose conduct is best, who learns the
lessons recited most thoroughly, is made president of the class. The
places of vice president, secretary, etc., are filled in this way. The
lessons which have been memorized by particular members, are learned at
their recital by the other members who were not appointed to learn these
lessons. In this way the work is done thoroughly, and for hours the
interest and enthusiasm do not cool; however, we change from one study to
another to prevent any from becoming monotonous. Nineteen members of our
circle are college students, but for the most of them this will be their
last year at school; so we are trying to fill them with the Chautauqua
spirit of learning, morality, truth and Christian worth, that it may
linger with them and develop them through all the future into strong
and true, noble and pure womanhood and manhood. Having established this
circle among the young, we are now working to originate one among the
grown. We talk of it a great deal in our social life; have induced eight
to become members of the C. L. S. C., and hope to largely increase the

SPRINGFIELD, MISSOURI, sends the following interesting history: “In
October, 1883, a wave of Chautauqua enthusiasm reached our beautiful city
of the Ozarks. Through the influence of two or three energetic ladies,
it resulted in the organization of the ‘Queen City’ circle of the C. L.
S. C. The circle began with a membership of fifteen ladies, representing
eight religious denominations. Regular meetings were held once a week,
all the memorial days kept, and the year’s work finished in June. In
October, 1884, our circle was reorganized with the same officers. Our
members returned full of enthusiasm and ready for work. On Opening Day
we endeavored to lay before our new members and visitors—having opened
our doors to all interested—the object, the magnitude and the blessing
of the ‘Chautauqua Idea.’ Those interested, and others to whom the
‘Idea’ was entirely new caught the enthusiasm, and many applications for
membership were presented from both gentlemen and ladies. As the ‘Queen
City’ circle is a woman’s circle exclusively, holding its meetings in the
afternoon, it was thought best to organize another circle, to which both
ladies and gentlemen could be admitted. On Bryant’s Day the new circle
was formed, with a membership of thirty-one. Their meetings will be held
on Tuesday evening of each week. It is the intention of the two circles
to work together as closely as possible. The ‘Queen City’ circle meets
once a week in a pleasant parlor, which we owe to the courtesy of one
of our members. We study the readings for the week thoroughly. Topics
are assigned by our instruction committee a week in advance for special
study, greater research and more thought being thus brought to bear upon
the lesson. Criticism upon pronunciation, inaccuracies of speech, etc.,
is unsparingly given to all. We are trying to make thorough study of our
text-book on ‘Parliamentary Practice,’ and endeavor to observe all the
rules of a deliberative body. Our work is both profitable and delightful,
and I think it safe to say that our circle can never languish. Already
the ’87s are living in joyful anticipation of the day when they will be
permitted to pass beneath the Arches at Chautauqua.”——A word also comes
from KANSAS CITY. There are six circles there, the oldest of which is
the “Kansas City” circle, whose interest was so great that the weekly
meetings were kept up during last summer, without any vacation. October
1st, they reorganized, with a membership of twenty-five. Two graduates
are reading with this circle this year.

A pleasant account of work done in the interest of the C. L. S. C. has
reached our table from HIAWATHA, KANSAS. A graduate of the class of ’84
it comes from: “I have talked C. L. S. C. to my friends until I have
declared that it will soon be necessary for me to get a new tongue. I
went to our editor to-day and asked his assistance in spreading the work.
He has kindly consented to print whatever we wish. There are many things
in THE CHAUTAUQUAN that would enlighten the people concerning the C.
L. S. C.—what it is, and what it is doing—but the very ones who most
need this information do not take THE CHAUTAUQUAN. By the assistance of
our editor we can bring this knowledge to the people. I tell my friends
that I can not help being enthusiastic on this subject, because I am an
‘Irrepressible.’ A ‘Pioneer’ and an ‘Invincible’ moved to our town this
fall. Beside these we have a few ‘Progressives,’ ‘Pansies,’ and ‘Plymouth
Rocks.’ We meet in one of the offices in the court house for our regular
meetings—it being a more central point for all—but I invited the circle
to my home for a late meeting. I wished to show them the growth of
the Persian empire and Alexander’s dominions as pictured on Adams’s
‘Synchronological Chart.’ I bought one this summer at Chautauqua. Since
my return I made an easel for the chart of hard pine, open-mortised four
cross-pieces, on two of which I fastened the chart, and chamfered the
edges. The boards were ‘in the rough’ when I took them, but I smoothed
them, sand-papered and oiled them, then blackened the chamfered edges and
varnished the easel. Several carpenters have examined my work and all say
my joining is perfect and the work well done, and yet I never handled
tools until I went to Chautauqua last summer and took instructions.”——A
new circle has been organized at HARTFORD, KANSAS. It consists of
seventeen members, representing a variety of professions and employments.
The work has proven pleasant and profitable to them thus far.

Right glad we are to hear from NEBRASKA. A breezy letter comes from
the circle at YORK, in which the writer tells us: “We have twenty-four
members. We feel quite encouraged when we remember that we began last
year with only four. Nearly every meeting adds a new name to our roll.
Our members are all enthusiastic and in earnest, preferring to let
anything else go rather than miss one ‘C. L. S. C.’ I really think
nothing less than a ‘Nebraska blizzard’ or cyclone would keep some of our
members away. We pursued the Chautauqua plan of questions and answers
last year very successfully, and are proceeding in the same way this
year, although our programs vary according to the option of the leader.
Each member leads in the order his name stands on the secretary’s roll.
In this way the timid ones of our circle are brought out. We usually have
written questions on the readings in THE CHAUTAUQUAN; they are either
handed to the secretary to be read, or exchanged. We are fortunate in
having a professor of our college as a member, and just now he is making
the study of chemistry very interesting and pleasant. We certainly do
appreciate our C. L. S. C.”

WYOMING TERRITORY is the western limit of our circle travels for
February. At CHEYENNE, the “J. L. Taylor” circle organized in 1883 has
reorganized with a membership of twelve. The secretary writes: “While we
are all young people, having many daily duties and cares, our interest in
Chautauqua steadily increases, as we feel it broadens our outlook over
the world, and draws us nearer and nearer to our ideal of a higher life.
We hope to be able to report much good work done in the future—as we feel
that we can not stop with only moderate endeavors.”


CLASS OF 1885.

“_Press on, reaching after those things which are before._”


    _President_—J. B. Underwood, Meriden, Conn.

    _Vice President_—C. M. Nichols, Springfield, Ohio.

    _Treasurer_—Miss Carrie Hart, Aurora, Ind.

    _Secretary_—Miss M. M. Canfield, Washington, D. C.

    _Executive Committee_—Officers of the class.

    Class badges may be procured of either President or Treasurer.

       *       *       *       *       *

The badges for ’85, phœnix-like, have risen from their ashes and can now
be furnished promptly.

       *       *       *       *       *

President Underwood would be glad if circles composed of members of
the Class of ’85 would inform him of their existence and send name of
president and secretary, that he may visit them when possible.

       *       *       *       *       *

A Canadian classmate writes: “I am prosecuting my studies in connection
with the C. L. S. C. all alone in a remote corner of our country, and
find my greatest pleasure in holding communion with the good and great of
the present and past ages. I am well pleased with the motto for our class
and hope to be among those who verify its appropriateness by passing
through the Gates next summer at Chautauqua.”

       *       *       *       *       *

One member of ’85 writes: “Having just read the December column of ’85
in THE CHAUTAUQUAN, have concluded to show my enthusiasm by sending for
our colors.” We can all say amen to this: “Please place my name on the
roll of the Invincibles, and may God for dear Jesus’ sake help us all to
‘Press on, reaching after those things which are before.’”

       *       *       *       *       *

Another says: “Although I was nearly fifty years of age when I commenced
study in this way, yet am greatly interested and love it more and more. I
hope to ‘press on, reaching after those things which are before,’ until I
can stand in the immediate presence of Him whom my soul loveth.”

       *       *       *       *       *

From Kentucky comes this testimony: “I am hoping to be able, literally,
to ‘pass through the Gates’ next August and receive from Chancellor
Vincent my diploma. I was at Chautauqua in ’83, and will not be content
till I go again. My interest and enthusiasm increase as the four years
draw to a close. During this time I have pursued my studies alone, having
failed entirely to form even a ‘straight line’ in my neighborhood, five
miles from Versailles. Although I would doubtless have enjoyed being
connected with a circle, I know that studying the course, even alone, has
very greatly benefited me. One of these benefits, and by no means the
least, has been the increasing and strengthening of my taste for solid

       *       *       *       *       *

NEW YORK.—“I have often wished that I could express my gratitude for,
and appreciation of, my C. L. S. C. studies and associations, but when
I attempt it my list of adjectives seems all too meager and inadequate.
Since taking up the course, life and all that pertains to it assume a
different aspect. I have gained an outlook which gives life a charm and
attractiveness of which I had never dreamed. I had passed my forty-fifth
year when I comprehended the C. L. S. C. plan sufficiently to see that
it was for such illiterate people as I. The benefits I have received are
past computation.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Our Class Memorial to our loved alma mater must not be forgotten. We
want to prepare for a memorial, a present worthy our _name_ and _aim_.
Fifty-five (55) names have up to this time been sent to the treasurer,
with contributions to the class fund (some sending more than the amount
requested). That is but a small beginning of the hundreds to hear from.


“_We study for light, to bless with light._”


    _President_—The Rev. B. P. Snow, Biddeford, Maine.

    _Vice Presidents_—The Rev. J. C. Whitley, Salisbury, Maryland;
    Mr. L. F. Houghton, Peoria, Illinois; Mr. Walter Y. Morgan,
    Cleveland, Ohio; Mrs. Delia Browne, Louisville, Kentucky; Miss
    Florence Finch, Palestine, Texas.

    _Secretary_—The Rev. W. L. Austin, New Albany, Ind.

       *       *       *       *       *

The officers of ’86 send greeting to their classmates and co-workers.

       *       *       *       *       *

The new class badge will soon be ready to send out. The color of the
badge remains the same, but the class emblem and motto will be added.

       *       *       *       *       *

From Colorado—Durango—comes this encouraging bit of class news: “We have
eleven members in our class and are pursuing our studies this winter with
unabated interest. Belonging to the class of ’86, we mean to be true
to the name ‘Progressives.’ We hold our meetings every Monday evening,
and follow the program laid out in THE CHAUTAUQUAN. There seems to be
a growing interest in the Chautauqua work, and we hope to have another
class organized in our little town before many months. The members of the
present class are busy workers, teachers, mothers and housekeepers, but
they have continued the course with increasing interest to this the third
year, and purpose finishing the full course.”


“_Neglect not the gift that is in thee._”


    _President_—The Rev. Frank Russell, Mansfield, Ohio.

    _Western Secretary_—K. A. Burnell, Esq., Chicago, Ill.

    _Eastern Secretary_—J. A. Steven, M.D., Hartford, Conn.

    _Treasurer_—Either Secretary, from either of whom badges may be

    _Executive Committee_—The officers of the class.

    Class paper may be procured from Mr. Henry Hart, Atlanta, Ga.

The Canadian Pansies are doing good work in the promotion of the
Chautauqua Idea.

       *       *       *       *       *

    The leaves swung lazily and slow,
    The wind hummed low its reverie,
    Chautauqua bells with loving chime
    Pealed forth their sweetest melody.

    Their quaint, weird music rolling on,
    Mingling with heaven’s azure ray,
    Enwrapped the earth with bright, new joy;
    It was our “Pansies’” natal day.

    Remembrance fond brings back the hour
    When on our breast the pansy blue
    We placed, with earnest, fervent prayer
    That to its trust we might be true.

    Again, again, and yet again,
    Our widening circle grew apace;
    And pansies bloomed on every side;
    North, South and West each claimed a place.

    And now a year with hurried tread,
    Has paced its tiny cycle round,
    Girdled with moments richly spent
    In wanderings on classic ground.

    Methinks we scarce could well have crowned
    The year agone with richer gems
    Than these bright visions of the past,
    Tho’ culled from monarch’s diadems.

    A goodly company our band—
    Twice seven thousand now we claim;
    And purpose with a royal love
    Thro’ every land to spread its fame.

    Tinted is the horizon’s rim
    With wisdom’s deep, ethereal blue,
    Yet all may reach its shining goal,
    If firm their trust and true.

    E’en though the path may rugged be,
    And lengthening shadows bar the way,
    Onward we’ll press with firmer zeal,
    Knowing success shall crown the day.

       *       *       *       *       *

The New England Branch of the Pansy class held its reunion November 28th
in the People’s Church in Boston. The first hour, from one to two p. m.,
was spent in social enjoyment. Prof. Sherwin then introduced himself
in one of his characteristic speeches and concluded by presenting the
New England president, the Rev. F. M. Gardner. He was unknown to many
of the members, as he was elected on the last day of the Framingham
Assembly, when many of the class had gone home. The president made an
appropriate and pleasing address. The secretary, Miss Corey, then read
her report. The pupils of the Boston Conservatory of Music, under the
direction of Prof. Sherwin, gave a delightful musical entertainment. At
the close of the musical program the Rev. J. W. Hamilton, pastor of the
church, addressed the class in a very happy and interesting manner.
A class poem was read by Miss Nell Robinson, of Lowell, Mass., which
finds its place in this Pansy column this month. After some business the
meeting was closed by singing a Chautauqua song. Nearly one hundred and
fifty were present at this meeting. During the session the secretary
called attention to the samples of class paper which had been sent on
from Atlanta by direction of the committee appointed at Chautauqua last
summer. The samples met the approval of those present.


“_Let us be seen by our deeds._”


    _President_—The Rev. A. E. Dunning.

    _Vice Presidents_—Prof. W. N. Ellis, Brooklyn, N. Y.; the Rev.
    Wm. G. Roberts, Bellevue, Ohio.

    _Secretary_—Miss M. E. Taylor, Cleveland, Ohio.

    _Treasurer_—Miss M. E. Taylor, Cleveland, Ohio.

       *       *       *       *       *

All items for this column should be sent to the Rev. C. C. McLean,
Jacksonville, Florida.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Class of ’88 will undoubtedly increase its numerical strength at the
Florida Chautauqua, to be held at Lake De Funiak, February 10th to March
9th, 1885.

       *       *       *       *       *

Miss Ella Pearsall, the secretary, writes that in October a C. L. S. C.
was organized in Matteawau, New York, taking as its motto, “Labor and

       *       *       *       *       *

One from New Haven, Conn., writes objecting to our name, “Plymouth Rock.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Mrs. C. H. Pike, of New Haven, Conn., informs us that at one of their
meetings, they made successful experiments in chemistry, before a
delighted audience. Speaks well for our ’88s.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Rev. H. L. Brickett, of Linnfield Center, Mass., class ’88, was
appointed as a committee of one to confer with the granite companies of
New England in regard to a base of granite for the proposed new Hall of
Philosophy at Chautauqua, and has been successful in having donated one
from the best granite, to be highly polished, bearing our name, monogram,
motto, and year of our class. It is valued at $100. We extend to him, in
the name of the “Plymouth Rocks,” the ’88s, more than thanks.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Rev. Dr. Dunning, of Boston, has consented to deliver the address at
our first annual “spread” in August next.

       *       *       *       *       *

Stationery and badges for ’88 may be secured of Henry Hart, Atlanta, Ga.

       *       *       *       *       *

Good for ’88. In the eight or ten circles found in St. Paul, Minn., about
four fifths of the members are of the class of ’88.




General Secretary C. L. S. C.


1. Q. Who is foremost among Greek philosophers? A. Socrates.

2. Q. Who is foremost of Greek philosophical writers? A. Plato.

3. Q. What four works have been the fruit, direct or indirect, of Plato’s
“Republic?” A. Cicero’s “De Republica,” St. Augustine’s “City of God,”
Sir Thomas More’s “Utopia,” and Bacon’s “New Atlantis.”

4. Q. In any just representation of Plato, who could not but be a very
conspicuous figure? A. Socrates.

5. Q. In the first extract given from Plato’s “Republic,” what does the
speaker, Glaucon, undertake to set forth for Socrates to overthrow?
A. A notion which he avers to be current and accepted among men, that
injustice is better policy than justice.

6. Q. From the discussion of the nature of justice and injustice, to what
does Plato make a very unexpected passage? A. To that form of discussion
which has given its name to the “Republic”—the ideal state.

7. Q. Who has recently made a scholarly and adequate translation of
Plato’s entire works into English? A. Mr. Jowett.

8. Q. How is the so-styled “Platonic love” defined in the “Republic?” A.
“A friend should use no other familiarity to his love than a father would
use to his son, and this only for a virtuous end, and he must first have
the other’s consent.”

9. Q. What was the “Socratic dæmon” to which Plato alludes in his
“Republic?” A. A benign and beneficent influence—a kind of divinity
within him that governed the conduct of Socrates.

10. Q. How is the Timæus of Plato described? A. As of all the writings
of Plato the most obscure and most repulsive to modern readers, while the
most influential of all over the ancient and mediæval world.

11. Q. What are some of the other best known works of Plato? A.
“The Laws,” the “Symposium,” the “Phædrus,” the “Gorgias,” and the

12. Q. What is the name of the dialogue in which Plato tells of the end
of Socrates? A. The “Phædo.”

13. Q. What was the sentence of antiquity in regard to Plato? A. That
Zeus, if he had spoken Greek, would have spoken it like Plato.

14. Q. Who was a distinguished pupil of Plato? A. Aristotle, and in
influence on human thought he equaled and rivaled his master.

15. Q. How does our author state the difference between ancient tragedy
and modern, in a single antithetical sentence? A. Modern tragedy presents
real life idealized; ancient tragedy presents an ideal life realized.

16. Q. What did Greek tragedy have for its chief purpose? A. To teach.

17. Q. How were Greek tragedies represented? A. By daylight, in the
open air, before assemblages that numbered their tens of thousands of

18. Q. What is said of the dress of the actors? A. The actors wore masks
on their faces and buskins on their feet. Beside this they wore a kind of
wig designed to make them look taller, and dressed with padding to make
them look larger.

19. Q. Who were the three masters of Greek tragedy? A. Æschylus,
Sophocles and Euripides.

20. Q. When and where was Æschylus born? A. In 525 B. C., in an Attic
village near Athens.

21. Q. In the present volume, from what tragedy of Æschylus are
selections presented? A. “Prometheus Bound.”

22. Q. Who was Prometheus? A. A mythical being of superhuman rank, who
stole fire from heaven and brought it to men. For this offense against
Zeus he was condemned to be chained alive to a rocky cliff in the

23. Q. What other great tragic poet was contemporary with Æschylus? A.

24. Q. From what masterpiece of Sophocles are the selections of the
present volume made? A. “Œdipus Tyrannus, or Œdipus the King.”

25. Q. How is this tragedy considered by, perhaps, the majority of
qualified critics? A. To be not only the best work of Sophocles, but the
“bright, consummate flower” of all Greek tragedy.


26. Q. Of what does chemistry treat? A. All kinds of material substances.

27. Q. What is said of the number of the various kinds of matter already
existing on our earth? A. The number is so great that the various kinds
have never been so much as counted, much less described, in any list or

28. Q. Of what are all things known to chemists made up? A. A few simple
substances, either existing alone or in richly various combinations.

29. Q. What are called chemical elements, and what compounds? A. The
simplest substances when alone are called the chemical elements, or
elementary substances; the things resulting when different elements are
united are called compounds.

30. Q. What does the two-fold character of chemical study involve? A.
First, the examination of elementary substances and their compounds.
Second, a consideration of the many general and special laws and forces
which determine the various possible combinations.

31. Q. How many elementary substances are there now generally recognized
as such? A. Sixty-six.

32. Q. About how many of the elements possess names that are familiar to
ordinary readers? A. About one sixth of them.

33. Q. Of what two elementary substances is it probable that three
fourths of our globe is composed? A. Of oxygen one half, and of silicon
one fourth.

34. Q. What general name is given to most of the elements? A. Metals.

35. Q. What symbol and what weight has each element? A. An atomic symbol
and an atomic weight.

36. Q. How is an atom of each elementary substance designated? A. By a
symbol, usually the initial letter of the native or Latin name of the

37. Q. What are three properties an elementary substance accepted as a
metal should possess? A. It must possess the property of existing in a
solid condition; it should possess the metallic luster; and it should
possess the power and tendency to readily form a chemical union with

38. Q. What are called binary and what ternary compounds? A. Compounds
having only two kinds of elements are called binaries. Compounds having
three kinds of elements are called ternaries.

39. Q. What four binary compounds are given as examples? A. Hydric
chloride, sulphur di-oxide, sulphur tri-oxide, and plumbic oxide.

40. Q. Under what two heads are the principal ternaries grouped? A. Acids
and salts.

41. Q. What are the two principal ternary acids used by chemists? A.
Nitric acid and sulphuric acid.

42. Q. What is meant by the term atom? A. It is that portion of any kind
of matter that is to human beings indivisible in fact.

43. Q. With what invisible, occult power is each atom and each molecule
endowed? A. A power called chemical affinity.

44. Q. What are three of the peculiarities of chemical affinity? A.
Each kind of atom has its peculiar chemical affinities. Each atom has
a certain equivalence or atom-fixing power. Chemical changes produce
striking results.

45. Q. What is the most common way of producing hydrogen? A. By bringing
together sulphuric acid and zinc.

46. Q. What are some of the properties of hydrogen as a gas? A. It is
colorless, odorless, tasteless, and, bulk for bulk, it is the lightest
substance known in nature.

47. Q. What is the most interesting chemical property of hydrogen? A. Its
power to unite with oxygen.

48. Q. What is said of the uses to which hydrogen may be put? A. As an
elementary gas it finds but few applications in the arts.

49. Q. For what standards is hydrogen used by chemists? A. As the
standard of equivalence or atom-fixing power; the standard of atomic
weight, and the standard of density for gases.

50. Q. What did the remarkable lightness of hydrogen early suggest? A.
The fitness of that gas for the inflation of balloons.


51. Q. What is the aim of the book, “How to Help the Poor?” A. To give a
few suggestions to visitors among the poor, and to lead all such visitors
to attend the conferences which are now held weekly in almost every
district of our large cities.

52. Q. What is one of the most direct commands in the Christian
Scripture? A. “Give to him that asketh.”

53. Q. Why need there be no beggars in our American cities? A. Labor is
wanted everywhere, especially educated labor; nowhere is the supply of
the latter equal to the demand.

54. Q. What do the people crying continually “give to us” really need? A.
A chance to learn how to work, and sufficient protection in the meantime
from the evils of idleness, drunkenness and vice.

55. Q. What is “out-door relief?” A. It is the giving of money (or its
equivalent) which is raised by taxing the people, if the applicants come
under certain rules and laws.

56. Q. To what conclusion does Mr. Seth Low, of Brooklyn, N. Y., come
in regard to “out-door relief?” A. That out-door relief, in the United
States as elsewhere, tends inevitably and surely to increase pauperism.

57. Q. Of what three parts is the conference of a district composed? A.
First, the district committee; second, the representatives of societies
and officers; third, the visitors.

58. Q. How does one writer state that the disciplining of our immense
poor population must be effected? A. By individual influence; and this
power can change it from a mob of paupers and semi-paupers into a body of
self-dependent workers.

59. Q. What does not, and what does visiting the poor mean? A. Visiting
the poor does not mean entering the room of a person hitherto unknown to
make a call. It means that we are invited to visit a miserable abode for
the purpose, first, of discovering the cause of that misery.

60. Q. What does Dr. Tuckerman say of every child who is a beggar? A.
Every child who is a beggar, almost without exception, will become a
vagrant and probably a thief.

61. Q. What is the only just reason for taking children from their
natural homes? A. To lift them out of moral poverty. Material poverty,
alone, is not sufficient cause.

62. Q. What do the statistics of the Labor Bureau show in regard to
homeless young women in Boston? A. That there are twenty thousand
homeless young women in Boston whose wages average only four dollars per

63. Q. What is the first suggestion made for the better care of the aged?
A. By patient study of each individual, and by ingenious experiment of
one plan after another, some fit occupation can often be found which
shall bring both happiness and profit.

64. Q. When does not private charity do its full part? A. While any
other than almshouse cases are allowed to fall into the care of the city

65. Q. What does experience, as the opportunities for observation widen,
induce the writer to believe? A. That every human being can do something
if he has a chance, and is intended to fill some gap in the universal

66. Q. What does Edward Denison say of the crime of begging? A. It does
not consist in the mere solicitation of alms. The gist of the offense is
the intention of preying upon society; and of this intent the asking alms
is only evidence—not proof.

67. Q. What is the root of a very large proportion of the suffering of
the poor in the cities of America? A. Drunkenness.

68. Q. What is one of the first duties of a visitor in entering a
tenement house? A. To use his senses.

69. Q. What knowledge means physical salvation, and thus a better
prospect for understanding the spiritual? A. How to make even the
smallest home clean and attractive, and to get the largest return from
every dollar earned.

70. Q. What is one of the earliest and most important topics which should
engage the attention of the visitor? A. That of helping people to save.

71. Q. What drives people into solitude? A. Trouble of any kind, and
especially any misfortune which has a tendency to lower a person in the
social scale.

72. Q. What is said of many of the poor who most deeply need visitors?
A. They are lonely persons, and the fact of finding a friend at last is
encouragement to them and the beginning of better times.

73. Q. What is almost the only true help of the worldly sort which it is
possible to give the poor? A. To teach them how to use even the small
share of goods and talents intrusted to them.

74. Q. What truth has been made clear in regard to the expenditure of
money and goods alone? A. That it does not alleviate poverty.

75. Q. What has experience taught differently from the assertions that
certain evils can not be helped, and that we may as well let things
alone? A. That evils can be helped, and to let things alone is to lend
ourselves to wrong.




Can a language be taught by correspondence? Unhesitatingly, yes!
Experience, though brief, gives warrant for the answer. The constantly
increasing number of advertisements appearing in journals of wide
circulation gives evidence that teachers at least believe instruction
by this method both possible and profitable. It is in this belief that
the only danger to the system lies. Incompetency in this field must
fail. It can be hidden by no outward show. No would-be teacher, with
text-book and printed question in hand, can parade before a class and
_hear a recitation_. Only a teacher, a real teacher, can hope for success
in this work, and that must come by methods entirely foreign to the
ordinary methods of the class-room. Born a teacher, not made; such must
be he who would successfully use the correspondence system in his work of
teaching. Such teachers are rare, even in comparison with the multitudes
of those who already fill the places in our hundreds of thousands of
schools, and still more rare in the ranks of the throng which, filling
the avenues leading to them, is expectantly awaiting the constantly
occurring vacancies. For this reason we have said that the growing demand
for correspondence schools constitutes their principal danger; for
persons aware of this demand and allured by the hope of swelling moderate
incomes, though they have no peculiar appreciation of the particular
requirements demanded to fit one for the work, will yet enter the lists
as competitors in this field. The inevitable results must be failure by
the teacher, discouragement to honest and earnest students who can find
no other means for acquiring education, distrust of the practicability
of the system, and discredit for correspondence teachers as a class. To
avoid this, to provide only competent instructors, and to arrange and
systematize as broad and comprehensive a course of study as is furnished
by an institution is one of the purposes of the Chautauqua University. In
such a course languages, ancient and modern, must be taught, and must be
taught by correspondence, or not at all. But while it will be conceded
that instruction by correspondence is possible, in ordinary branches, yet
the honest inquirer will ask in view of the peculiarities surrounding the
subject of foreign languages, the question which begins this paper: Can a
language be taught by correspondence? Again we answer, unhesitatingly,
yes! and in no dubious way, but with a measure of success fully equal to
that possible by oral instruction. The question of the time necessary
to complete any given topic is not germane to this discussion. Yet in
passing, it may be said, that of two persons who should be able to devote
their whole time to study, one using oral and the other correspondence
methods, we see no reason why the first should have any advantage in
point of time required for the completion of any prescribed course of

We present four reasons in support of the answer we have so positively

FIRST—_The class of students seeking this instruction is more teachable
than can be easily found elsewhere._ Its members rank in earnestness and
intensity of application with the best of those pursuing post-graduate
or special courses in resident and special institutions. They are men
already in professional life, physicians, attorneys, pastors, journalists
and teachers. They are men who, having long looked wistfully from a
distance at our great educational institutions without being able to
avail themselves of their advantages, suddenly find excellent educational
advantages brought to their very doors and offered on terms which
they can easily accept. They are young men and women who during their
school days felt the necessity of making the best use of their time,
and acquired habits of steady application, of critical study, and of
economy in the use of spare moments; but whose school days were limited
by unconquerable circumstances to the village academy or high school, or
even to the less ambitious country district school. These classes are
easier to teach than almost any other, since they are ready to do to the
fullest extent the work which alone can make any teaching successful.

SECOND—_More skill is required in the work of preparing and assigning
lessons than is ordinarily shown._ The art of assigning lessons should
form a part in every scheme of pedagogical instruction. Unfortunately,
the methods with which most who have memories of the class room are
familiar are worthy subjects for criticism. The recitation hour passes
rapidly in question and answer over the technicalities of the text. The
closing moments are sufficient to direct a continuation of the advance
reading, a review of previous lessons, and the assignment of certain
portions from the grammar. There is no definite direction as to special
points to be examined; no provision for particular work in etymology, or
analysis, or comparison; no synthetic outline for the next day’s thought;
no aids to help the student to test his own work or to detect his own
errors before the next recitation assembly. Such methods or lack of
methods in the correspondence school would surely cause its failure. How
to assign lessons becomes here the crucial test of the teacher’s power.
He must so lay out the work to be done that the pupil whom he has never
seen will be stimulated to effort and not grow discouraged; will be led
from the world of the known at his feet, into the world of the unknown
in which the teacher lives; will be allowed to make no misuse of time in
unprofitable study; will be wisely directed in the acquirement of lexical
and grammatical knowledge, and will be enabled to test his own work with
ever increasing accuracy. Such a teacher can not fail of success in his
effort to teach a language by correspondence.

THIRD—_More care is required in the matter of interrogation._ Thorough
mastery of the art of interrogation is an essential; almost priceless in
any teaching—here it is a _sine qua non_. The presence of teacher and
pupil in the class room makes questioning easy; the oral question is
quickly given, quickly answered, and many questions may be used to elicit
a single truth, or to impress a single lesson. But the correspondence
teacher is not so favored. His questions must be so framed that one, or
at the most two, shall suffice. Again, the oral teacher through lack of
memory and long custom, may allow his questions to become a mere matter
of routine, and daily tread the same monotonous round. We speak from
memory when we assert of a college class, that it became so familiar with
the questions asked during Greek hour in junior year, as to be able to
answer the coming question almost before its utterance. This will not do
for the correspondence teacher. His questions must be only such as his
lesson directions have suggested; they must be committed to paper, in
remorseless ink; they are to be subjected to scrutiny; they must not be
obscure, or repetitious; and their range must be as wide as his students’
knowledge. Such questioning can not fail of success.

FOURTH—_More earnest and thorough study is required of the student._ He
has in a certain sense the work of two persons to perform, his own and
his teacher’s; his own, in that he investigates and acquires as directed;
his teacher’s, in that he must prove and test that which he has done and
is doing, by efforts of memory, by work of comparison, and by strict
grammatical rule. He must recite to himself, ask of himself the questions
which he must answer, and correct himself before finally his finished
work is returned to his teacher for revision.

We think we have made sufficiently plain the possibility of success in
teaching a language by correspondence. The reasons seem to us conclusive.
That which remains to be said is even more potent. After all thinking,
reasoning and objecting is done, after all testimony for or against
has been received the established fact remains, successful teaching of
languages, ancient and modern, by correspondence alone, has been done
within the years just past, is now being done, and will be yet more
effectively and widely done with each advancing year.

In support of these statements, which we believe are true, we present a
testimonial from an experienced teacher, who has been and is a member of
the College of Modern Languages in the Chautauqua University. It is as

“I have been a member of the German class in the Chautauqua
Correspondence School of Languages for two years, and I consider
this plan of study, including the six weeks’ instruction each year
at Chautauqua, superior to any other. The method is not only more
comprehensive, it also advances the pupil much more rapidly, makes him
more thorough, broadens his culture, enables him to become familiar with
history, with literature, with art, and better than all, teaches him how
to acquire knowledge.”

We add two statements of fact which can be verified as proofs of popular
opinion regarding correspondence schools:

FIRST—That the Director of the Department of New Testament Greek in the
Chautauqua School of Theology has students to the number of almost four
hundred who rely for instruction entirely upon correspondence lessons.

SECOND—That the Dean of the Department of Hebrew in the same institution
has under instruction by the same methods, in the different enterprises
with which he is connected, about seven hundred students. Could there be
anything more significant?



The importance of good breeding can not be too diligently insisted upon.
But what is good breeding? This is hardly to be understood as synonymous
with good manners, though certainly involving them. Nor is it quite
the same thing as exemplary or agreeable behavior, though likely to
insure it. The latter is entirely the product of constant practice. Good
manners, polished behavior, are the fruit of long discipline—perfection
herein being reached only when these manners become habitual, natural,

True courtesy, meanwhile, involves something deeper than mere manners
or motions. It has its seat in the heart—its root in the moral nature.
Fundamentally it consists in an inward kindly, neighborly, tender feeling
toward every one, an interest in, and a desire to promote everybody’s
welfare. Genuine courtesy, in a word, is born of love, springs from a
benevolent disposition, a brotherly, chivalric impulse.

But what is good breeding? It consists in this inward principle of
good will, and the outward _habit_ of graceful demeanor combined—it
consists in the aforesaid inward gracious impulse, rooted in the heart,
and finding natural outward expression, or interpretation, through
that disciplined elegance of deportment of which I have spoken. To the
inward impulse, or sentiment, duly awakened, the outward, educated
habit naturally, instinctively responds; and we have the deportment, or
carriage, of the truly polished or accomplished gentleman or lady.

These twin principles, the inward nurture and the outward culture or
training, working together, underlie what in the highest sense is to be
understood as good breeding.

The practical value of the accomplishment under consideration can
not well be overestimated. How charming, truly, this gentlemanly,
lady-like conduct—this kindly, graceful, genial way of carrying one’s
self socially. True courtesy, verily, is as delightful as a song. More
eloquent is it, we may say, than any oratory. It is a fine art. Better
still, it is Christian.

Is it not at once a privilege and a duty to promote the pleasure of
others? As has just been suggested, how may we more effectually minister
to the pleasure of others than by a charming behavior?

By cultivated, agreeable manners, moreover, we immensely enhance our
personal influence—our power for good. A person of agreeable manners,
by uniformly pleasing, will, naturally, always be popular—have hosts
of friends. While, whatever one’s worth or attainments, we yet shun his
presence if he be disagreeable or offensive in manner or speech; on the
other hand, we instinctively covet the society of one who, in any way,
delights us.

The irresistible charm of polished manners, even when cultivated solely
for commercial purposes, is well illustrated by a remark said to have
been made by Mr. Beecher concerning the clerks in the shops of Paris.
They were, he said, so polite and engaging in their attentions that his
first impression always was that he must have met them somewhere before.
And who has not, indeed, under the influence of the benign spirit, the
genial and engaging manners, the kindly and obliging offices of the
accomplished tradesman, often felt his prejudices give way, his original
intentions to purchase nothing yield, and, instead, a purpose gradually
spring up in his mind to do just the opposite of what he originally

Nothing can be more evident, therefore, than that this matter of manners
and breeding is a no unimportant part of one’s education, constituting,
truly, a no insignificant part of every true man’s character. How
greatly, then, does that youth stand in his own light, who, for any
cause, neglects his manners. The thoroughly courteous youth, other things
equal, will surely win his way to success. Personally agreeable in all
his ways, he conciliates opposing prejudices, charms the indifferent, and
makes every one he meets his friend. The boorish man, on the contrary, as
inevitably blocks his way to fortune by awakening, on the part of those
with whom he has to do, only sentiments of aversion and disgust.

Girls, for some reason, seem to take more naturally and kindly to
graceful ways, to gentle courtesies, than boys. Young America, we think,
is characteristically boorish, if not clownish. The boy of the period
manifestly places no adequate value on good manners. Doubtless this
matter of breeding—this careful cultivation of a genial and amiable
deportment—is sadly neglected in our day. The youth of our day should be
taught not only that rudeness and vulgarity never pay; but that while
awkwardness is disagreeable and burdensome, the slightest approach to
rowdyism is detestable and unpardonable.

Some one has very happily represented good manners as “minor morals.” And
certain it is that vulgarity and vice are intimately related; that the
low, vulgar fellow will ever be found but a few removes from a positively
vicious one.

Love, refinement, social cultivation are all closely allied with
righteousness; these, always and everywhere, constitute the true
gentleman and lady.


It was a noteworthy fact that two of the three great religious bodies
of this country were holding councils in the same city in the last days
of 1884. The city of Baltimore enjoys the distinction of being both a
Catholic and a Methodist city. The former is the older claimant, since
it was founded by English Catholics; but Methodism, also founded by
Englishmen, has a Baltimore history which occasioned the centennial
conference of last month. It was in Baltimore, Christmas 1784, that a few
circuit riders organized the Methodist Episcopal Church. It is doubtless
through the effectiveness of that organization that Methodism holds its
position as the religious union of the largest _population_ embraced
in any one organization in this country. The Catholics are ordinarily
reckoned the most numerous, because they count population and Methodists
count only members; but taking the former basis as a common measure,
the various branches of Methodism are doubtless the most numerous;
and it is probable that by the same tests the Baptists outnumber the
Catholics. If the Presbyterian bodies could be counted together, and the
Lutherans and Congregationalists included, we should have a third great
body of Protestants which may possibly outnumber the Catholics. Two
other communions, the Protestant Episcopal and the Unitarian, would be
in the first rank of religious influence if we attempted to measure and
compare by this test. Taking account of members only, the most difficult
problem of religious statistics is to determine whether any religious
organization is relatively increasing. The unattached population, and the
independent Protestant organizations, have been growing in numbers for a
score of years; and the Protestant communions can not count by population
without including the same persons in more than one church. It is not
surprising that the Catholics most easily make an imposing array in the
statistical tables. The precise count is not important in this place. The
Catholics and Methodists are large bodies of American Christians, and
they have some common features as well as some striking contrasts.

Both communions owe their success (if we take worldly measurement) to
their vigorous management and subordination of their clergy for the
good of the common cause. A Methodist itinerant and a Catholic priest
resemble each other very little, but they are alike in being men who are
“sent,” and who “obey orders.” Their personal choices and well-being are
subordinated to a service and devotion. They alike resign at the doors
of the temple their rights to serve and please themselves. It may be
said that all Christians should do this; but this self-surrender is to
the priest and the itinerants _objective_ as well as _subjective_. It
means that they go where they are sent by a human authority which they
identify with the divine will. They are sacrificed to the general good;
they suffer that others may rejoice—always under an external and visible
authority. Another point of resemblance is the _practical_ liberty of
laymen in both churches. Theoretically the Catholic and the Methodist
laymen are both bound to considerable service and duties. Methodism began
in a rigor of religious duties which makes one wonder how John Wesley
missed founding a new Catholic order of world-renouncing priests and
lay brothers. Catholicism is theoretically even more rigorous. In the
progress of this century, both laities have achieved more liberty than
is good for them; the priest and the itinerant serve and sacrifice for
all. A bright-eyed Methodist editor called attention some years ago to
the fact that his church tolerates no heresy in ministers and pays little
attention to the doctrinal vagaries of its laymen. It is doubtless true
of both Catholics and Methodists; though neither church is prepared to
make any admission of the sort or ever will be. The theory in each case
calls for sound believing; and it is probably a just judgment which says
that liberty is the atmosphere required for the growth of sound faith.

Another point of resemblance between Catholic and Methodist is that both
communions have had a great mission to preach to the poor; and that they
have preached to such effect that large numbers of their poor have become
rich, not so obviously in faith as in worldly goods. We mean not to
sneer, but to put our finger on the _objective_ reality which lies before
us. He is a careless man who fails to see that Methodism and Catholicism
have produced industry, thrift, temperance and wealth in classes of
people who were miserably poor at the outset. The fact has long been
understood of Methodists; a special fact has obscured this large one
among Catholics. There has been a steady inflow of poverty from the Old
World and the Catholics have received into their communion a very large
portion of this poverty. Their needy have been most abundantly recruited
and continue to be. But at the same time their poor have grown wealthy
all over the land. The Puritan farmer is disappearing in New England and
the Irish Catholic is taking his place. Wealthy Catholics abound in all
the large cities.

There are many points of contrast between the two communions. We suggest
a single one, still looking at externals and not at creeds. While
Methodism has for a quarter of a century been one of the most influential
factors in politics—not at all as a machine, but altogether as an
influence—Catholicism has during the same period almost lapsed out of
sight as a political element. This resulted from the foreign character
and training of the majority of the priests and people, and from wise
avoidance of occasions of odium by the Catholic prelates. We suggest this
contrast without drawing any inferences from it. For the near future,
it is safe to predict a change on the Catholic side. Their Baltimore
council will, by force of associations which are full of significance,
tend to produce change. In Baltimore the Catholic may properly remember
his claims to be and live an American of the Americans. That church has
had a vast body of foreigners to naturalize; it has done the work under
an array of obstacles which seemed too formidable to be overcome. It is
a near day when the Americanism of the Catholics of this country will
come to the proof of its quality and value. At Baltimore the thoughtful
priest must have been moved to remember what claims he has on the country
and what claims the country has on him. We shall as a people suffer some
bitter trials and humiliations if the Catholics are not to be genuine
Americans and ardent patriots. They are too many to be neutral or hostile.


The labor problem has not yet received a solution. Its central difficulty
is to secure to workmen a fair share of the blessings of life. No one
supposes that, taking the world together, they do now receive a fair
share. In this country, workmen have fared uncommonly well; but there is
a belief, resting on some facts, that the actual rewards of labor, as
measured in the blessings of life, are rapidly declining, and must go
on declining under the existing industrial system. Some theories on the
subject are no longer tenable. The workman’s theory that capital robs him
is not sound. Money, once worth ten per cent., has fallen to three per
cent. for perfectly safe loans; when higher interest is paid, it is paid
for conducting the business of lending (as in banks) or for risks of the
loans. The government can borrow a thousand and more millions at two and
one-half to three per cent.—and this shows what a hard time of it capital
is having. The risks of manufacturing probably bleed labor; but the
bleeding is not in the form of which the workman thinks. It is not profit
but loss which drives the lancet in to the hilt. Political economists
have shown (and they are entirely unanimous) that the high profits
produce a competition which brings down profits. Capital is cheap; large
profits can be made only in conditions which are monopolistic.

Our system of industrial exchange has one very weak place, called
_credit_. This credit is a hole in the net through which industrial gains
are dropped into the bottomless sea; and the system is so fixed upon us
that there is no hope of reform in our day. To pay when we buy more and
more offends something in our make-up. A wise man proposed that one, two
and five dollar bills be abolished, in order that we might circulate, as
the French do, a large amount of silver. A member of Congress immediately
amended the suggestion thus: “No. Put this silver in the United States
Treasury, and let us use ‘silver notes.’” We insist upon having even a
credit money, and object to “the trouble” of handling coin. This refined
and transcendental sentiment, or taste, or æstheticism about coin runs
through us. The man who always pays, as well as the sneak who never pays
if he can avoid it, says, “Charge it,” when he buys goods. Goods are
sold by the manufacturer to the jobber on credit; the jobber sells to
the wholesale houses on credit; the wholesale dealers sell to retailers
on credit; the retailers sell to consumers on credit. It is within the
mark to say, that more is lost in these four credit traps than capital
gets—much more. It is not, in fact, the capitalist, but the well-dressed
and the shabbily-dressed thieves who cheat and rob labor.

At first sight, the reader will wonder how the losses of the four
credits come home to labor. We reply: they are merely the aggregate
of the risks incurred in making staple goods—all other risks being
insignificant in such manufacturing. The order of things is like this:
what the jobber loses the manufacturer loses by the failure of the
jobber. The jobber loses what the dealers between him and the consumers
lose. Not quite all, perhaps, for the capitals of the dealers must be of
some worth; but the consumer has, in the end, to pay all these losses,
and the result is an enhanced price. In other words, a bale of goods
starts out with a burden of risk which grows as it travels, and adds to
the cost of goods so much that the consumer can not buy as much as he
needs. The from 250 to 300 or more failures each week tell a part of the
workman’s trouble; another vast body of his losses does not go to record
at all. It is the fifty-cents-on-a-dollar compromise system between
wholesalers and retailers.

Workmen ought to get what consumers pay, less three per cent. on capital
and about as much more for risk of ordinary kinds and a fair cost of
handling goods. We maintain a system of extraordinary risks, called a
credit system, which consumes two or three times as much as capital. It
is plain that workmen can not get (we write of such staples as cotton
cloth) pay for lost goods. Wherever they are lost, the sums lost can not
reach labor. We do not enter into the details of this argument; we have
suggested reasons for believing that a cash system would stop one of the
great leaks of the industrial system.

There are other great wastes in the existing forms of industrial
management which, like the credit system, come out of the bones and blood
of the workman. We pass them by to suggest that the industrial system
has gone wrong, and can never go right, under the empire of steam. Steam
is a centralizer. It concentrates industry, and by packing laborers into
a small compass _enhances the cost of living_ and enlarges the area of
losses on sales and of distress in hard times. And to go at once to our
solution of the labor problem, we will describe it as decentralization.
A writer in _MacMillan’s Magazine_ suggests that electric motors may
prove to be the decentralizing force. Of course, it is not in the power
of any material agent to effect great changes except as it coöperates
with our inclinations. The expensiveness of steam machinery coöperated
with our inclination to congregate in cities. We have congregated there.
The larger half of our growth is in towns. The result is dear food, dear
rent, pestilential diseases, moral degradation. When we grow sick of the
experiment of building a modern Babel, our inclinations may coöperate
with a motor energy which is plebeian and democratic. Let us suppose,
then, that a workman can make any of the innumerable small articles which
have iron or steel for a material. This workman has his bits of machinery
and tools in his house. They do not cost more than a carpenter’s chest
of tools. He has the skill; he has the tools; he wants power. But a
neighbor tells him that he can buy in quart or gallon cans stored-up
electricity, and by a little contrivance, which may cost fifty cents, he
can attach his machinery to this democratic motor and be an independent
workman, with all the advantages of machinery. He can make all these iron
and steel contrivances in the middle of a prairie and sell them to his
neighbors for cheap food and cheap rent. The _divisibility_ of electric
power may make it the poor man’s friend. You can not buy five cents’
worth of steam; there is now no reason to doubt that electric power may
be sold in five-cent packages if there is a demand for it in such form.
There is a vast aggregate of small manufacturing. Of course there are
great industries to which our solution would not apply; but if half the
laborers of the country could work profitably, each man by himself,
in his own house—just as cobblers work—then the strain on the large
industries, such as iron and steel making, would be so far reduced that
workmen in those branches would probably command, permanently, excellent

This article aims to do nothing more than to open a window of hope. We
shall need to change a great deal; but the poor man’s motor will probably
help us to change. A good many monopolies have grown up because steam
favored their growth; others are the fruits of general ignorance. Under
the sway of ignorance, the trade-mark becomes a tyrant, a grasping
monopolist. For example, there are no patents on sewing machines, but
machines of certain firms, wearing a certain trade-mark, command a
monopoly price. Any good mechanic can build a good sewing machine for ten
dollars. There might be men in every town engaged in supplying the local
wants in the matter of sewing machines. No large factories, no heavy
transportation bills, no eloquent traveling agents would be needed. There
are thousands of things to which the same rule will apply when there is
a poor man’s motor and such a diffusion of intelligence that the poor
man can make, and people will buy, the home-made articles. The empire of
the trade-mark will disappear when the motor and the intelligence come
along, and both seem to be coming. It will not be necessary—if the motor
arrives—to herd people together like cattle, or to transport goods long
distances. The workmen will carry their kits of tools to the villages and
live independently and cheaply in the midst of their customers. Is this a
dream? But why should it not come true?


The French government is considering a proposition to restore the custom
of deporting criminals. It is remarkable that the practical argument on
this subject is decidedly favorable to this system. The argument against
it is a sentimental one. The unsettled question about punishments for
other than capital offenses is, how to secure the reform of criminals.
Under the best managed prisons, reform of a lasting kind is rare. The
best management seems to succeed until the prisoner is set at liberty.
Then the reformed man finds himself an object of suspicion to orderly
people and of special interest and sympathy to the criminal classes.
The former will not employ him and the latter will. The result is, in
most cases, that he relapses into crime. Perhaps there is some hope that
the better classes may improve in their habits; but unless they do, it
is well nigh useless to reform criminals in prison. The poor men who
come out into an unsympathetic world which does not believe in their
reformation, and in which unreformed ex-convicts are numerous enough to
keep the general distrust of their class alive, have nothing like a fair
chance to begin the world over again. If there were any hope that prisons
could be perfected so as to reform all convicts, public prejudice could
be broken down; but it is too much to expect that the general public will
acquire a habit of distinguishing between good and bad ex-convicts. This
is the difficulty for which no device has yet been found which will take
it out of the path of humanitarian prison discipline. No faith is more
stable than that which, among the public at large, affirms the total
depravity of _some_ men; especially of ex-convicts.

Turning to penal colonies, experience is most favorable to the belief
that it opens the road to reform. The reports on the British penal
colonies are especially cheerful from this point of view. The majority
of the criminals sent abroad during three centuries reformed their
lives. Australia ought to be the most disorderly country on the globe,
if deporting criminals to a colony could produce a bad society. But
notwithstanding the fact that England sent a large criminal population to
that colony, Australia is one of the most orderly and respectable of the
English dependencies. The only possible explanation is that the official
reports are true, and that the convicts did actually reform. If Botany
Bay did not reform them, the honest opportunities of that vast island
did coöperate with their good purpose and promote their reform. England
deported criminals from 1597 to 1867—a period of 270 years. During the
War of Independence she suspended deportation and enrolled her convicts
in the armies sent to subjugate us. In 1838 more than 100,000 criminals
had been sent to Australia. An official report sets forth that in 1850
an enumeration of ex-convicts in Australia accounted for 48,600, and
that all of them except an insignificant fraction were living honestly.
But it will be said that Australia protested against the continuance of
the system. This is not the exact fact. In dealing with the question,
the English government threw upon the Australians all the expense of the
surveillance of the deported criminals. The colonial government demanded,
most righteously that England should pay this bill of expense; but
rather than pay it the English Parliament chose to abolish the system of
deportation. The colonists did make sentimental objections to receiving
convicts, but they did so on the ground that the cost of watching the
criminals of England was unjustly thrown upon them. A French writer
remarks that in this case, as in the quarrel with us, the money question
was allowed to prevail over statesmanship. The British ex-convict is
worse off than our own because there are fewer opportunities for men
under the reproach of prison service.

The French proposition to resort again to penal colonies, or rather
to dumping ship-loads of criminals on new and undeveloped countries,
suggests the seriousness of the question. Every French colony will
object to receiving the vicious cargoes of humanity; but the objections
will lose their violence if the home government shall send a proper
proportion of French gold with each cargo. The testimony on the subject
seems to show that if the transported men are such as to give signs of
real reform, ninety-five per cent. of them will make good citizens. The
open country, the new moral scenery, the necessities of that new world,
conspire with good resolutions to maintain reformed habits. What shall
_we_ do with our reformed prisoners? It is not improbable that in a few
years England will imitate France and restore the system of deportation.
Why should not we make an experiment? Alaska, at least, might safely be
used for the purpose. It would not be difficult to devise a system under
which the best class of reformed men should be offered land and a small
outfit in some remote corner of our country. By selecting the best, and
making their removal voluntary, we might save to society the larger part
of the men whom our prisons reform. We do not wish to disguise the fact
that, however remote the place, the men who have lived by crime and
escaped punishment would endanger the virtue of the ex-convict. But the
criminal classes do not flow to the farthest frontiers except in scanty
streams; and the Alaskan territory is as yet as safe as a wilderness can
be. Some scheme of the sort is worth the devising. We are making little
headway under our present best systems, simply because the ex-convict has
no chance. Can he be given a fair chance?


The Civil Service Reform League—and every reform is dependent upon an
organization—has addressed a letter to President-elect Cleveland, asking
him what he proposes to do about removals from office. Mr. Cleveland
answers, with full information, that he believes in the doctrine of civil
service reform. We think that the practical application of the letter to
the civil service will make a real and safe basis for judgment. Till we
see this, we deem it wise not to express an opinion.

       *       *       *       *       *

The old “Liberty bell,” which was on exhibition during the Centennial at
Philadelphia, has been taken to the New Orleans Exposition in charge of
a committee. The council of Philadelphia passed a resolution authorizing
its removal from Independence Hall for that purpose.

       *       *       *       *       *

Our national Congress is the subject of a shameful scandal, and the
worst feature of it is, our Senators and Representatives know it, but
fail to correct it themselves. It is this: By figures prepared by the
Public Printer, it appears that during the last four congresses nearly
six hundred speeches have been published in the “Congressional Record” as
a part of the debates and proceedings of Congress, but not one of them
was ever delivered in the House of Representatives. Here is a number of
printed but undelivered speeches of Senators. This is an unnecessary
expense entailed on the government. It is a falsehood and makes the
“Record” a lie, for you can not tell by reading it what has been said
or done in Congress. Senator Vest has introduced a resolution into the
Senate to abolish the practice, but it is still an open question whether
a body of men who do such things will have the moral courage to vote
their undelivered speeches out of the “Record.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Our readers will find the article by General John A. Logan, elsewhere
in this impression, full of interesting and very remarkable statements
concerning rudimentary education in the different states. We think
his points concerning the common schools in the Southern states will
be a surprise to many people. Another article on the subject from the
General’s pen will appear in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for March.

       *       *       *       *       *

A number of _Bradstreet’s_, issued in the latter part of December, shows
that at that time the whole number of men out of employment in the
United States, because the establishments had shut down, and by reason
of strikes, etc., was 316,000, or thirteen per cent. of the whole number
employed in 1880, which was 2,452,749.

       *       *       *       *       *

Concerning General B. F. Butler, it is announced that he has signed an
agreement with a publishing house to write his political reminiscences,
in two volumes, for which he is to receive $50,000 in cash and a royalty
beside. The advent of Messrs. Blaine and Butler into the literary world
is suggestive. It is altogether probable that both of these men regard
literary fame, when compared to political favor, as a more substantial
and enduring quantity, and believe that their names will live longer
in literature than in politics. Of course, there may be other motives
prompting them, but to some men _fame_ hath its peculiar charms.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was a surprise and sorrow to Christian people to learn that the
management at New Orleans had decided to keep the Exposition open on the
Sabbath. The very liberal—perhaps we ought to say lax—ideas about the
observance of the Sabbath which prevail throughout the country deserve
serious thought. Certainly to extend opportunities for making sight
seeing and pleasure seeking part of the day’s work should be emphatically

       *       *       *       *       *

One of Chautauqua’s staunchest friends and most devoted workers, the Rev.
S. McGerald, has entered a new field of work. In a recent issue of the
Buffalo _Christian Advocate_ we find his name announced as the future
editor of that paper. Mr. McGerald’s new and important position is sure
to be well filled. He has the hearty good wishes of all Chautauquans in
his new enterprise.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Indians of Arizona made an exhibit at the recent fair of that
territory, which ought to open the public mind to the degree of
civilization which some Indians have attained, and suggest, as well, the
possibility of such civilization for all Indians. The first premium for
the best modern plow displayed was awarded them, and to show their taste
for the antique as well as the modern, it may be mentioned that a wooden
plow was displayed which was an exact counterpart of those used 2,000
years ago in the valley of the Nile.

       *       *       *       *       *

There is no doubt of it—the cause of much human failure and misery is
insomnia. Mr. Gladstone has found the only panacea in Christendom which
prevents and cures this dread disease, and he gave the secret to the
world recently, when he said: “I never allow business of any kind to
enter my chamber door. In all my political life I have never been kept
awake five minutes by any debate in Parliament.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Now that Mark Twain is attempting to become his own publisher, it may be
of interest to read the record of his occupations. He has been in turn,
practical printer, steamboat pilot, private secretary, miner, reporter,
lecturer and book-maker. Should he succeed in his publishing scheme,
he may start a fashion among successful writers which will be hard on
publishing houses.

       *       *       *       *       *

A winter resort where the thermometer falls frequently to 40° below zero,
is fully launched at Saranac Lake, in the Adirondacks. The hotels are
reported full, and prices of lots have gone up with the usual nimbleness
which characterizes embryo resorts. If peculiar, this new fashion may
serve as a blessing to the idle and half sick people who are apt to
patronize fashionable resorts by bringing into use many vigorous and
healthful winter sports.

       *       *       *       *       *

The wonderful Fish River caves, discovered last year in New South Wales,
have been given a new name by the government of that country, and will
henceforth be known as the Jenolan caves. Astonishing discoveries are
reported to have been made there recently. Our own Kentucky wonder begins
to dwindle before the reports of these new subterranean palaces and

       *       *       *       *       *

A reading people we know ourselves to be, but it is rather astonishing to
discover that we publish twelve times as many daily papers as the United
Kingdom. _The Athenæum_ calls attention to the fact that while the United
States has one daily paper to every 10,000 inhabitants, the English have
one to every 120,000. It would be gratifying if we could feel sure that
the quality stood in the same ratio.

       *       *       *       *       *

The work of the Chautauqua University is attracting attention far and
wide. In a recent issue of the _Irish Christian Advocate_, published in
Belfast, we notice in answer to a correspondent’s query, as to “What is
the Chautauqua University?” a long and enthusiastic article upon the
plan. The adaptation of the “Chautauqua Idea” to all people and all
countries is very wonderful.

       *       *       *       *       *

A lady is said to have recently offered $50,000 to the Boston school
authorities, to be devoted to the filling of the teeth of children whose
parents were too poor to employ dentists. Should she devote her money
to the purchase of tooth brushes and toothpicks, and employ a police of
teeth, who would compel their daily use by children from babyhood up, she
would confer an inestimable benefit upon future generations.

       *       *       *       *       *

Frances Power Cobbe, well known to the readers of THE CHAUTAUQUAN,
concludes her powerful article on “A Faithless World,” in the December
issue of _The Contemporary Review_, with these strong words: “We have
been told that in the event of the fall of religion, ‘life would remain
in most particulars and to most people much what it is at present;’ it
appears to me, on the contrary, that there is actually _nothing_ in life
which would be left unchanged after such a catastrophe.”

       *       *       *       *       *

A wise thing is being done in London. A series of popular lectures upon
the subject of precautions—national, local and personal—to be taken
against cholera, has been begun. Now that the menace of this dread
disease hangs over our own country, it would be a sensible plan for
cities and villages to provide a similar course of instruction. It could
be easily arranged, too.

       *       *       *       *       *

We are happy to extend congratulations to a well known contributor to
THE CHAUTAUQUAN, Mr. C. E. Bishop. Mr. Bishop was married in Buffalo,
December 31st, to Miss Emma Mulkins, of that city. As the former editor
of the Jamestown (N. Y.) _Journal_, of the Buffalo _Express_, and at
present of _The Countryside_, of New York, as an editorial writer on _The
Assembly Herald_, as the author of “Pictures in English History,” and of
frequent entertaining articles in our columns, Mr. Bishop is widely and
favorably known.

       *       *       *       *       *

The assignee’s sale of the stock of imported books and fine art
publications of Mr. J. W. Bouton, of New York, is now advertised. It
is a real shock to know that this rare collection must be sacrificed.
For years his rooms have been a resort for book lovers, and a liberal
education to the loiterers about his counters. Perhaps there is no
collection in America, outside of the libraries, the sale of which would
cause such general regret.



Articles on Plato may be found in the following works: Plato’s
“Republic,” De Quincey; “Plato,” Encyclopædia Britannica; Smith’s “Greek
and Roman Biography,” at the beginning of the various editions of his
works; Mahaffey’s “Classical Greek Literature;” Müller’s “Literature of
Ancient Greece;” “Against the Atheists,” _Christian Examiner_, vol. xl,
p. 108; “Life of Plato,” _Methodist Quarterly_, vol. xx, p. 368; “On the
Immortality of the Soul,” _Christian Repository_, vol. xxii, p. 507;
“Platonism,” _Baptist Quarterly_, vol. i, p. 22; “Ethical Philosophy,”
_American Church Repository_, vol. xxii, p. 175.

P. 86.—“Cicero,” etc. The “De Republica” was a dialogue on what is
the best form of the state; the “City of God” treats of the body of
Christians in distinction from the City of the World, or those out of the
church. St. Augustine wrote this book after the sack of Rome by Alaric to
answer the assertion that the destruction of the country was a punishment
for the desertion of the pagan deities; “Utopia” is the story of an
imaginary land supposed to have been discovered by a companion of Amerigo
Vespucci, where the laws were perfect; the “New Atlantis” was an island
in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where Bacon represents himself to
have been shipwrecked, and where he found societies for cultivating art
and the sciences.

P. 96.—“Dæmon.” “This demon or genius of Socrates, which was not
personified by himself, was regarded by Plutarch as an intermediate being
between gods and men, by the fathers of the church as an evil spirit,
by Le Clerc as one of the fallen angels, by Ficino and Dacier as a
good angel, and by later writers as a personification of conscience or
practical instinct, or individual tact.”

P. 98.—“Origen.” (185?-254?) This eminent writer of the early church
fathers made an effort to reconcile Platonism with Christianity, and in
his commentaries on the Scriptures used the allegorical method almost
entirely. “The literal sense is always secondary; and the critic never
fails where it is possible to find in the simplest fact or the plainest
exhortation some hidden meaning.”

P. 99.—“Lemma.” When in demonstrating a proposition a second proposition
is introduced and assumed as true, or demonstrated for immediate use, it
is called a _lemma_.

P. 100.—“Oneida Community.” A society founded at Oneida, New York State,
by one John Humphrey Noyes, a perfectionist. He introduced into this
community his peculiar views, persuading them to practice a community of
women and of goods, to allow women equal business and social privileges
with the men, and to live in a “unitary home.”

P. 104.—“Silenus.” An attendant of Bacchus. He is represented as a very
ugly old man, fat, with a bald head and pug nose, and always intoxicated.
Generally he rode an ass or was carried by the satyrs. Silenus was also
represented as an inspired prophet. When drunk and asleep he was in the
power of mortals who could compel him to sing and prophesy by surrounding
him with chains of flowers.

P. 105.—“Marsyas.” See C. L. S. C. Notes, page 57 of THE CHAUTAUQUAN for

“Corybantian reveler.” So called from the Corybantes, the priests of
Cybele in Phrygia. They celebrated her worship in the wildest, most
frenzied dances. The drum and cymbal accompanied this dance.

P. 107.—“Brasidas.” The most famous of the Spartan leaders in the
Peloponnesian War. After taking many Athenian cities in Macedonia he
was killed at Amphipolis, where he defeated Cleon. He was honored by the
inhabitants as a hero.

“Nestor.” An aged Greek hero of the Trojan war, whose wisdom and advice
were considered equal to the gods. “Antenor” held a position among the
Trojans similar to that of Nestor among the Greeks. His advice, however,
was not followed by his countrymen, and he offered to deliver the city to
the Greeks. Upon the capture of Troy he was spared by the victors.

P. 108.—“Boreas.” The North Wind was fabled to live in Thrace. The
allusion here is to the story that he carried away Orithyia, the daughter
of the king of Attica, for his wife.

“Agra;” the demus south of Attica was called Agra. It contained two
temples; one to Diana, the other to Ceres.

“Typhon.” A monster born of Tartarus and Gæa, who attempted to revenge
the overthrow of the Titans. His head reached to heaven, his eyes poured
forth flame, and serpents were twined about his body. Jupiter killed him
with lightning.

P. 109.—“Agnus Castus,” or the “chaste tree,” the name given to a plant
native to the Mediterranean countries, which became associated with the
idea of chastity, it is said, from the similarity of the name _agnus_ to
the Greek word _chaste_. Grecian matrons strewed their couches with its
leaves during the feast of Ceres, and in the convents of Southern Europe
a syrup made of its fruit was used by the nuns.

“Achelous.” A river god—a son of Oceanus—from the earliest times
worshiped generally throughout Greece. At one time he took the form of
a bull in a fight with Hercules, who conquered him and took one of his
horns. This horn the Naiads afterward changed into the horn of plenty.

P. 118.—“Sunium.” The promontory forming the southern extremity of
Attica; a town of the same name stood upon it.

P. 121.—“Swan’s Utterance.” Referring to the fable told of the swan, that
it sings its sweetest song at death—“the sweetest song is the last he
sings.” Thus in “Othello,” “I will play the swan and die in music.”

P. 127.—The chapter on Æschylus may be supplemented by the following
readings: “Theory of Greek Tragedy,” De Quincey; Müller, Mure, and
Mahaffy on Æschylus, in their histories of Greek Literature; Talfourd’s
“Tragic Poets of Greece,” from “History of Greek Literature;” Symond’s
“Studies of the Greek Poets,” _Christian Examiner_, Vol. xliii, p. 140;
_Contemporary Magazine_, Vol. iii, p. 351; _Biblia Sacra_, Vol. xvi, p.
354; _North American Review_, Vol. lxvii, p. 407.

P. 129.—“Cyprid.” A poem, author unknown, called Cyprid or _Cypria_,
“either because the author came from Cyprus, or because it celebrated the
Cyprian goddess, Aphrodite, and detailed from the commencement her action
in the Trojan war.… The poem was an introduction to the ‘Iliad,’ telling
a vast number of myths and leading the reader from the first cause of the
war up to the tenth year of its duration. It is easy to see that such a
vast subject, loosely connected, must have failed to afford the artistic
unity which underlies the course of the ‘Iliad.’”

“Little Iliad.” A poem by Lesches, a Lesbian. It relates the complete
story of the sack of Troy, from the contest of Achilles to the fall
of Troy. The “Competition for the Arms,” we have had in the “Iliad.”
“Philoctetes” was the chief archer of the Greeks, having been instructed
by Hercules in the use of the bow. On the voyage to Troy he was bitten
by a snake and left on the island of Lemnos. In the tenth year of the
war the oracle declared the city could not be taken without the arrows
of Hercules. Philoctetes was brought, and having slain Paris, the city
was taken. “Neoptolemus,” a son of Achilles, was one of the warriors that
the oracle declared necessary for the capture of Troy. He was one of the
heroes concealed in the wooden horse. “Eurypylus” who came from Ormenion
to Troy, played a prominent part in battle, slaying many Trojans; he
was wounded by Paris. “Ulysses Mendicant,” the story of the wanderings
of Ulysses. “Lacæna,” the Lacedæmonian woman, referring to Helen.
“Illii-persis,” treats of the plundering of Troy after the capture, and
“Apoplus,” of the sailing away of the ships. “Sinon.” After the wooden
horse was finished, Sinon mutilated his body and allowed himself to be
captured by the Trojans. He told them that he had been maltreated by his
countrymen, and that if they (the Trojans) would drag the horse into the
city they would conquer the Greeks. After the Trojans had followed his
advice he let the Greeks out of the horse. “Troades,” the Trojans.

P. 134.—“Trilogy.” A set of three dramas. Each one is in itself complete,
but the three are related, one event following or growing out of another,
as in Shakspere’s Henry VI.

P. 137.—“New made kings.” This allusion will be explained by reading the
story of Cronos and Zeus on page 77 of THE CHAUTAUQUAN for November.

P. 144.—“Sweet Muse-Mother.” See page 73 of “Brief History of Greece.”

P. 145.—“Mantic.” Prophetic; derived from the Greek word for prophetic.

P. 152.—“Protagonist.” One who fills the leading part in a drama, and
hence in any enterprise.

P. 153.—“Ettrick Shepherd.” A name given to the Scottish poet, James
Hogg. His home was in the Ettrick forest, and when a boy he had been
a shepherd. The reference here is to the articles he contributed to
the series of papers which appeared in _Blackwood_ between 1822 and
1835, called Noctes Ambrosianæ, and which were principally written by
Christopher North.

P. 154.—“Sophocles.” In connection with the chapter on Sophocles the
following readings may be used: “Classical Writers,” an essay on his
life and writings by Campbell; Talfourd’s “History of Greek Literature,”
chapter on “The Tragic Poets of Greece;” Symond’s “Studies of the
Greek Poets;” _Baptist Quarterly_, Jan. 1877; Mahaffy’s “History of
Classical Greek Literature;” Mure’s “Critical History of the Language and
Literature of Ancient Greece;” an account of the performance of “Ædipus
Tyrannus,” at Harvard in May, 1881, will be found in _The Century_,
November, 1881; _Harvard Register_, April, 1881; Boston _Sunday Herald_,
March 27, 1881; New York _Evening Post_, April 22, 1881.

P. 173.—“Abæan.” From Abæa, a town of Phocis, where stood a very ancient
temple and oracle of Apollo.


P. 13.—The abbreviations used in the atomic symbols are taken from the
Latin or Greek names, and when these differ from the English there seems
to be no correspondence between the name of the element and its atomic
symbol; as _Au_ for gold.

Hydrogen is the lightest form of matter known, and the weight of its atom
is taken as the unit of the system of weights. In the table the numbers
in the column of atomic weights give the weight of one atom of each
substance as compared with one atom of hydrogen. For instance, an atom of
aluminum is twenty-seven times as heavy as an atom of hydrogen.

A-luˈmi-num; Brōˈmĭne; Caesium (kēˈsi-um); Cerium (seˈri-um); Chlorine
(klōˈrĭne); Chrōˈmi-um; Di-dynˈi-um; Erˈbi-um; Fluˈor-ĭne; Gălˈlĭ-um;
Hyˈdro-gen; Glu-cinum (glu-sīˈnum); I-ridˈĭ-um; Iˈo-dĭne; Lanˈtha-num;
Lithˈĭ-um; Manganese (mangˈa-nezeˌ); Mŏl-yb-dēˈnum; Nī-oˈbi-um;
Nīˈtrō-gen; Osˈmi-um; Pal-lāˈdĭ-um; Phosˈphŏ-rus; Platˈĭ-num, or
Pla-tīˈnum; Po-tasˈsĭ-um; Rhōˈdĭ-um; Ru-bidˈi-um; Ru-thēˈnĭ-um;
Scanˈdĭ-um; Se-lēˈnĭ-um; Strontium (stronˈshĭ-um); Tanˈta-lum;
Tel-luˈri-um; Thalˈli-um; Thoˈri-um; Tī-taˈni-um; Tungˈsten; U-rāˈni-um;
Va-nāˈdi-um; Yt-terˈbi-um; Zir-cōˈni-um.

P. 19.—“Guyten de Morveau,” gwēˈton dĕh morˈvō. (1737-1816.) A French
chemist. He suggested a new nomenclature which was adopted by Lavoisier,
and wrote a “Dictionary of Chemistry.”

P. 33.—The symbols are to be read by calling the letters and the small
numbers one after the other, in the order in which they occur. If a
compound contains an element which requires two letters to express it,
the latter one, always a small letter, as on page 35, AgNO₃, it is to
be read in the same way, with a shorter pause between the A and g than
between the other letters, as A-g—N—O-₃. Ag and O₃ might be compared to
words of two syllables. The number always belongs to the letter which it

P. 60. “Sir Humphrey Davy.” See C. L. S. C. Notes, page 59 of vol. v of

“Biot,” Jean Baptiste (bēˈōˌ). (1774-1862.) A French savant. His fame
rests upon his mathematical, physical, and astronomical writings. Biot’s
description of Cavendish, translated from the French: “The richest of all
learned men, and probably, also, the most learned of all rich men.”

P. 63.—“La Trappe.” A Benedictine convent in France, famous for the
austerity of its monks, founded in the twelfth century.

“Van Helmont.” (1577-1644.) A Flemish physician, chemist, and
philosopher. He attempted a reform in medicine, but his system was
so mingled with mysticism that it is not of much practical value. He
succeeded, however, in introducing much exactness into science.



1. Perhaps this absurdity, and the complications it involves, may be
better illustrated by the following few lines from one of DeBertrand’s
novels. (They might be found in a dozen others.)

“Madame,” dit il, “il y a là une [feminine] personne qui demand M. le

“Quelle [feminine] est cette [feminine] personne?”

“C’est un [masculine] monsieur,” etc.[I]

Thus, it will be seen, both feminine and masculine articles must be used
to designate the same object; and a person must be spoken of as feminine,
although the person is a man; the reason being that _personne_, the
_word_, is feminine.—_Richard Grant White._

[I] “Madame,” said he, “there is a person without who asks for
the Baron.”

“Who is this person?”

“It is a gentleman,” etc.

2. For contrary to apparently reasonable assumption, the history of
language shows that minute and highly wrought grammatical forms are the
signs, or at least the accompaniments, not of advanced civilization
and high culture, but of a rude and savage condition of society. The
further we penetrate the obscure of antiquity, the more grammar we find.
The oldest language known to us, the Sanskrit, is the most complex and
elaborate in its grammar; the youngest, English, is, to all intents and
purposes, grammarless; and Sanskrit grammar is at least four thousand
years old. My readers will now see why it was that I said the minute
forms and complicated grammatical relations of the Greek language are
not the signs of a high development of language, but were relics of
barbarism.—_Richard Grant White._

3. “Galore,” gā-loreˈ. Plenty, abundance.


1. “Fuller,” Thomas. (1608-1661.) An English author and divine. “The
style of all his writings is extremely quaint and idiomatic, in
short, simple sentences, and singularly free from the pedantry of his
times.”—_American Cyclopædia._

2. “Robert Hall.” (1764-1831.) An English writer and preacher of the
Baptist church. When he was eleven years of age his teacher said that he
could not keep up with the boy. No man in modern times ranked higher as
an orator.

3. “Goulburn.” (1818-⸺.) An English clergyman. He was in 1859 head
master of the Rugby School, in 1866 was made Dean of Norwich. He was a
voluminous and popular writer.

4. “Bascom,” Richard H. (1796-1850.) An American clergyman, bishop of the
Methodist Episcopal Church, South. His works comprise sermons, addresses
and lectures.


1. Transcriber’s Note: This note was omitted in the original. Wikipedia
has to say: “In general in ancient Greece, each state, city or village
possessed its own central hearth and sacred fire, representing the unity
and vitality of the community. The fire was kept alight continuously,
tended by the king or members of his family. The building in which this
fire was kept was the Prytaneum, and the chieftain (the king or prytanis)
probably made it his residence.”

2. “Lavoisier,” läˈvwäˈze-āˌ. See Appleton’s “Chemistry,” pages 19, 21
and 118. He was condemned to death by a revolutionary tribunal at Paris
on a frivolous charge brought against him as one of the farmers of the
taxes during the Reign of Terror.

3. “Phlogiston,” flo-jisˈton. Stahl supposed it to be pure fire, fixed
in combustible bodies in order to distinguish it from fire in a state of

4. “Magnesium.” A shining, almost silver-white metal. When heated it may
be rolled out into very thin, long strips resembling ribbons, which will
burn with an intense light. In burning it produces magnesium oxide or
magnesia, which falls as a fine white powder.

5. “Dr. Priestly.” See “Chemistry,” page 118. (1733-1804.) An eminent
English divine and philosopher. His partiality to the French Revolution
excited the English against him, and in one of the riots his home,
library and manuscripts were destroyed by the fire kindled by an angry
mob. His later home was in Northumberland, Pa. He wrote between seventy
and eighty volumes on history, literature, theology and science.

6. In a few volcanic districts steam escapes from the earth, which
contains small quantities of boric acid. These vapors are condensed into
water, which is again evaporated and the acid crystallized out. When this
acid is mixed with alcohol and the solution set on fire it burns with a
green flame. See “Chemistry,” page 157.

7. “Corpuscles of the blood.” Minute particles, both red and white,
existing in the blood, which can be seen under a microscope. In the human
species the red corpuscles are thick and circular. They are so small that
Young says it would take 255,000 of them to cover a surface of a square
inch. They are elastic and pliant, so that they can pass through blood
vessels having a smaller diameter than themselves. The white corpuscles
are more globular than the red, and contain more fat, and have the power
of changing their form. These spontaneous changes have been thought by
some scientists a proof that they are microscopic animals. But this is
scarcely a sufficient reason for admitting that they are animalculæ, as
the muscles of a body, when separated from it, often manifest apparently
spontaneous movements.

8. Phosphoric acid is always produced by burning phosphorus in air
or oxygen. The experiment may be performed as follows, but before
undertaking it see page 167 of the “Chemistry,” and note with how much
care it must be handled: Place a fragment of carefully dried phosphorus
in a small cup on a stand in the middle of a large plate, ignite it by
a hot wire, and place over it a bell-glass. White fumes will fill the
glass and aggregate into small particles, which will fall to the plate,
presenting the appearance of a miniature snow storm.

9. Barium is a yellow, lustrous, malleable metal. It is used in
fireworks, for the green color it gives off in burning.

10. “Bayberries.” The plant, called also wax myrtle, is a low, crooked
shrub found throughout the United States, especially near the sea coast.
It grows to a height of from three to eight feet. The naked flowers
appear in April and May, in clusters, of which from four to nine ripen
into dry berries. Plantations of them have long been cultivated in
Europe, and they have been raised in Algeria. For many years they have
been an article of commerce. A bushel of the berries will yield from four
to five pounds of wax.

11. “Strontium.” It takes its name from Strontian, in Scotland, where it
was first observed as a carbonate. It is a pale yellow metal, harder than
lead. If strontium carbonate be dissolved in nitric acid and mixed with
combustible substances it will burn with a beautiful carmine red flame,
and for this purpose is much used in fireworks.

12. “Sodium.” See “Chemistry,” page 67. It is a lustrous, silver-white,
soft metal. When thrown upon water, if it be prevented from moving, or
if the water be warm, it ignites, burning with its characteristic yellow

13. Extinguishing flame by carbon di-oxide. See “Chemistry,” page 218.

14. “Lignite.” Also called brown coal. It is the most imperfectly
mineralized form of coal. In some instances plants are so little changed
that they can easily be classified by the structure of the leaves and the
fruit. The fiber has become so impregnated with bitumen that it burns
with its peculiar flame and smoke. The jet so much used in jewelry is
a black variety of lignite, very compact in texture, and taking a high

15. “Kohinoor,” kohˌ-i-noorˈ (mountain of light). This famous stone
is now in possession of Queen Victoria. It was obtained before the
Christian era in one of the mines of Golconda, and passed to successive
sovereigns of India until it was borne away by a Persian conqueror in the
early part of the eighteenth century. In 1813 it was bought back by the
ruler of Punjaub. When Punjaub was annexed to the East India Company’s
territory it was surrendered to the Queen of England. It is said to have
weighed about 900 carats originally, but by cutting to have been reduced
to a weight of nearly 279 carats. By recutting it was again reduced so
as to weigh 186 carats, and at this time was shown (1851) at the Great
Exhibition. Since that time it has been again recut, for the third time,
and now weighs 123 carats, and is estimated at $600,000. For the other
“Paragons” see “Chemistry,” page 204. It is questioned whether the
“Grand Mogul” is a pure diamond. The largest undoubted diamond is the
“Orloff,” in the scepter of the Emperor of Russia. It weighs 194¾ carats.
The “Regent” or “Pitt” is thought to be the purest and most perfect
brilliant in Europe. It weighs now 136¾ carats, but its original weight
was 410 carats, and the fragments split off when it was cut were valued
at some thousand pounds. It was placed in the hilt of the sword of state
by Napoleon I. The “Grand Duke” belongs to the Emperor of Austria, and
weighs 134 carats. The “Star of the South,” found in Brazil, weighs 124
carats. The “Sancy” weighs only 53½ carats. It belongs to the Emperor of

16. “Golconda.” An ancient city and fortress of India, once the
metropolis of the kingdom of Golconda. It is renowned for its diamonds,
which are, in truth, only cut there.

17. “The Dark Continent.” Africa, so called because so little has been
known of it through all history; but through the zeal and enterprise of
modern explorers we are led to hope that “the day is not far distant when
the secret places of this land of mystery will be penetrated by the light
of science and civilization.”


1. “Malice prepense.” Malice aforethought, deliberately and previously

2. “Professor Newman.” See C. L. S. C. Notes in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for
November 1884, page 115.

3. “Cardinal Manning.” (1808-⸺.) An English Roman Catholic cardinal,
the author of several works. He is the son of the late William Manning,
member of Parliament, and governor of the Bank of England. He was
educated at Oxford, as a member of the Church of England. In 1857 he
joined the Catholics, and was ordained priest. In 1865 he was nominated
by the pope Archbishop of Westminster, and in 1875 he was made cardinal,
an office next in rank to that of pope. He is one of the most prominent
men in London, and the leading representative of the Roman Catholic
Church in England.

4. “Thugs.” A set of robbers and assassins who lived in India, and
worshiped the goddess Kali. They roamed over the country in bands, and
put to death by strangulation any traveler whom they met. The British
government has exterminated them.

5. “Leibnitz.” See notes on the “Art of Speech” in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for
November, 1884.

6. “Lord Palmerston.” (1784-1865.) A British statesman. He succeeded Lord
Aberdeen as prime minister in 1855, and retired in 1858, on account of
the defeat of a bill introduced with reference to the attempted murder of
Napoleon III. by Orsini. In 1859 he was again made premier and held the
post until his death.

7. “Loch Fyne.” An inlet of the sea on the western coast of Scotland,
running into Argyle for about forty miles, with an average width of five
miles. The town of Inverary stands near its head.

8. “Homberg.” A town in Prussia, noted for the gambling which was
extensively carried on there formerly, but which was suppressed by the
Prussian government in 1870.

“Baden,” or “Baden-Baden.” A German watering place situated on the Oos,
at the foot of the Black Forest. It was formerly celebrated for the
gaming tables found in the _Conversationshaus_, which was the principal
resort for visitors. The licenses for gambling expired in 1872, and
have not since been renewed. Those who have read “Daniel Deronda” will
remember that it was at Baden that Deronda first saw Gwendolen Harleth,
when she was engaged in gambling. The description of the persons gathered
round the long tables is very interesting and vivid, and gives a good
insight into fashionable life at Baden in those days.

9. “Lord Brougham.” (1779-1868.) Lord Chancellor of England. He took
a strong stand on the side of the suppression of the slave trade, and
favored Roman Catholic emancipation, and labored earnestly in the cause
of popular education. As an orator he was second only to Canning.


1. “Alkaloid.” The name given to those extracts of vegetables which will
unite with acids to form salts.

2. “Caffeine,” caf-fēˈine. The alkaloid of coffee; the same extract of
tea is called théine. It is present in coffee to the extent of one per
cent.; in tea from two to six per cent. It can be extracted by using
acetate of lead. It has a bitter taste, and acts powerfully upon the
system when taken in doses of from two to ten grains, causing palpitation
of the heart, confusion of the senses, and sleeplessness.

3. “Theo-bromine.” The alkaloid of chocolate, extracted in the same
manner as from tea or coffee.

4. “Thea viridis,” theˈa virˈĭ-dis. (Green tea.) The name given to that
species of tea plant formerly supposed to yield green tea.

5. “Camilliaceæ,” cam-milˌli-āˈce-e. An order of plants comprising
trees or shrubs with alternate, simple, feather-veined leaves, and
regular flowers.

6. “Loblolly bay.” A tree found in the Southern States, growing to the
height of from thirty to eighty feet, having long, narrow leaves, and
large, white flowers, about two inches across, and resembling the single

7. “Stuartia.” Catesby. A shrub having deciduous leaves, and large,
fragrant, white flowers.

8. “Tannin.” The astringent principle contained in a great variety of
plants, which renders them capable of combining with skins of animals to
form leather.

9. “Turmeric,” turˌmeˈric. A name given to the tuber-like root of
a plant found in Asia. As prepared for commerce the roots are of the
size of the little finger, and two or three inches long, of a yellowish
color. They have an odor like ginger, and an aromatic taste. They form an
orange-yellow powder, which is used in dyeing. Prussian blue is prepared
from prussic acid, potassium, and a solution of sulphate of iron. Gypsum
is a native sulphate of lime, that, when calcined, forms plaster of Paris.

10. “Caper.” The caper bush is a native of the south of Europe; it is
a climbing shrub which flowers all summer. The buds are gathered every
morning, and preserved in vinegar and salt. They have an agreeable
pungency of taste. “Pekoe.” The young leaf buds of a kind of tea known as
the pekoe, which is the choicest of black teas, are gathered as early as
April, and sometimes mixed with other teas, to flavor them.

11. “Caseine,” cāˈse-ine. An organic compound allied to albumen, found in
milk. It may be coagulated and separated from the milk by the application
of rennet.

12. “Cibber,” sibˈber. (1671-1757.) An English poet, appointed to be poet
laureate in 1730. He figures in the “Dunciad.” See THE CHAUTAUQUAN, vol.
v, page 213.

13. “Waller.” (1605-1687.) An English poet.

14. “Coffea Arabica,” cof-feˈa A-raˈbi-ca.

15. “Rubiaceæ,” ru-bi-aˈse-ē. An order of herbaceous plants of which
there are three or four hundred species; abounding chiefly in the
northern hemisphere and upon the mountains in the tropics.

16. “Bouvardias.” A class of autumn and winter blooming house plants in
the northern climates. Leaves regular; flowers appear in clusters, and
are something like the honeysuckle in form. They vary in color from a
pure white to a deep scarlet.

17. “Koran.” The sacred book of the Mohammedans, and their chief
authority, also, in political, military, and ethical matters.

18. “Caffeone.” A fragrant, volatile oil contained in coffee.

19. “Sterculiaceæ,” sterˌcu-li-aˈse-ē. Large trees or shrubs, with
simple or compound leaves, and flowers like those of the mallow, except
that the anthers turn outward.

20. “Mahernia,” usually called _Mahernia odorata_, is an exotic flowering
shrub cultivated in conservatories, mostly for its rich fragrance.


1. “Made-over tea.” In Chinese tea houses, large jars are kept, into
which the dregs of all the tea that has been used are thrown. These
exhausted leaves are dried, carefully rolled again, and thrown upon
the market for a second sale. It is said this tea is easily detected
if coloring matter has been used, but when re-rolled without, only a
chemical analysis can disclose the fraud.

2. “Reliable.” Much fault has been found by critics with this word. It
is claimed that it has no right to a place in our language. _Able_ or
_ible_ is a suffix which, added to the stem of a transitive verb, gives
an adjective which may be defined by placing the word _able_ before the
passive infinitive of the verb whose stem has been used; for example:
tolerable, able to be tolerated; admissable, able to be admitted;
deniable, able to be denied, etc. But reliable means able to be relied
_upon_. The preposition has to be supplied. The proper form of the
adjective would be the awkward word, “relionable,” or “reliuponable.” The
word is favored in the dictionaries, but trustworthy is preferable.

3. “Cosey.” A wadded cap made to fit the tea-pot closely, and thus hold
in the aroma and the heat.

4. “Café au lait,” cä-fā ō lā.


1. “Aliases.” The plural of alias (āˈle-as). Meaning another name, an
assumed name.


1. “Napier,” naˈpe-er, John. (1550-1617.) An English mathematician.
“Logarithms” are numbers so related to natural numbers that the
multiplication and division of the latter may be performed by addition
and subtraction, and the raising to powers and the extraction of roots
by the multiplication and division of the former. They are arranged in
tables which can be readily understood and used, and they save enormous
calculations and labor.

2. “Kepler,” Johann. A German astronomer.

3. “Mercator’s Chart.” In all the charts in use before Mercator’s, curved
lines were drawn representing the meridians and parallels. A vessel which
followed these lines always receded too far from the equator, and, if
land did not intervene, would describe a spiral course and finally reach
the pole. Mercator constructed a map as follows: A line, AB, was drawn
representing the equator, and was divided into 36, 24 or 18 equal parts
for meridians at 10°, 15°, or 20° apart, and the meridians were then
drawn through them perpendicular to AB. The distance of the parallels and
the tropics, and the arctic circles were marked from the equator on the
sides, and these points joined by straight lines. The map does not give a
natural representation, as the polar regions are immensely exaggerated.
The distortions in the form of the countries and the relative distances
of places are rectified by making the degrees of latitude increase
proportionably to those of longitude.

4. “Quadrant.” Quadrants were used for surveying, making astronomical
observations, and, in navigation, for determining the meridian altitude
of the sun, and from that the latitude of the observer. They were made of
a great variety of form and size to suit their several uses. The interest
attaching to them at the present time is chiefly historical, as they have
been superseded by the sextant and the full circle.

“Davis.” An eminent English navigator of the latter part of the sixteenth

“Hadley,” John. An English mathematician of the early part of the
eighteenth century. An intimate friend of Newton.


That most remarkable poem of the Orient, the “Rubáiyát”[J] of Omar
Khayyám, has recently had the rare fortune of receiving from translator,
artist and publisher an almost perfect treatment. Its translation places
it among English classic poems, its illustration and make-up among
American classic art books. This poem, very imperfectly known among us,
is the work of a Persian astronomer and poet, Omar Khayyám, or Omar the
Tent-Maker, a native of Naishapúr, in Khorassan. He was born in the
latter half of the eleventh century, and became a favorite of the rulers
of the realm. His life was, so goes the chronicle, “busied in winning
knowledge of every kind, and especially in astronomy, wherein he attained
to a very high preēminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik Shah, he came to
Merv and obtained great praise for his proficiency in science, and the
Sultan showered favors upon him.” Omar was an honest thinker; he refused
the hollow mysticism of the times, and framed a system which approaches
Epicureanism. His views of life, his fruitless search for Providence, his
sad conclusion,

    “I came like water, and like wind I go,”

together with his final refuge in the wine cup, with the command

    “Drink, for you know not whence you came nor why,
     Drink, for you know not why you go, nor where,”

are the subjects of his “Rubáiyát,” or quatrains. In the original these
verses have no connection. The translator, Mr. Edward Fitzgerald,
selected those which seemed to him most suitable, and arranged them
into a sort of eclogue. This translation met with a hearty reception.
Mr. Fitzgerald had been fortunate enough to make Omar Khayyám much more
lucid and entertaining than Omar had made himself. An interpretation
of the poem was undertaken in May 1883, by Elihu Vedder. The interest
in the elegant volume just issued by Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co.,
centers, of course, about these illustrations. There is not a line of
the poem but what takes a new and powerful meaning under his treatment.
Indeed, it seems as if in many cases the verses were but a key-note, the
drawing the completed strain. The artist seems to have been inspired
by the same sense of mystery, sadness, and final devotion to pleasure
which influenced the author. His idea of Omar’s philosophy is most
beautifully represented in the picture called “Omar’s Emblem.” In it life
is represented by a whirling stream, upon which the mortal, under the
form of a rose, has floated in. Along the stream the leaves are scattered
here and there, while crushed and half petalless the rose floats into
oblivion. This whirl of life surrounds what we may suppose to be the
emblem which incessantly confronted Omar’s mind—a human skull; upon this
is perched a singing nightingale—a sign of the music which in spite of
the mockery of existence the poet always heard, and in which he found
the sole relief for living. The pictures include a wealth of suggestion
which only diligent and sympathetic study discloses. They show surprising
fancy and versatility, while at the same time the finish of each is most

Among the handsome books of the year must be classed Cassell’s new
edition of “Atala,”[K] Chauteaubriand’s charming romance of Indian life
and love. Though the story is far from filling our modern ideas of a
novel, it is one of those rare, pure love tales which never loses its
hold upon us. It will always keep its place with “Undine” and “Paul and
Virginia.” The present edition contains illustrations by Gustave Doré,
which, though inferior in some respects to later works by him, are still
very beautiful pictures. Only a few of the illustrations of the “Atala”
show that weird power and strong imagination for which Doré is so famous,
but what we miss there is quite made up by the interest we feel in his
conceptions of American scenery, of which he knew nothing except from
description. These conceptions, if sometimes very incorrect, are still
full of exuberant fancy. The binding and letter-press of the volume are
superior, making a most charming gift book.

The “Prose Writings of William Cullen Bryant,”[L] edited by Parke Godwin
will meet with a cordial welcome from all readers of good literature.
They appear in two volumes, and properly belong to a set called “The
Life and Works of William Cullen Bryant,” forming the fifth and sixth
volumes of the set. It was the thought of the editor at first to publish
entire the orations, addresses, and various letters of Mr. Bryant,
but careful consideration led him to think that this would extend the
work beyond desirable limits; so it was confined to a few selections
from the various departments in which the author displayed his power.
Volume V of the set, or I of the “Prose Writings,” contains several
“Literary Essays,” “Narratives,” and “Commemorative Discourses” on
Cooper, Irving, Halleck, and Verplanck. Volume II contains “Sketches of
Travel,” “Occasional Addresses,” comprising those on Shakspere, Scott,
Burns, Goethe, Schiller, and many others; and “Editorial Comments and
Criticisms.” The selections are all timely and well adapted to catch the
reader’s fancy and interest. There can scarcely fail to come to one,
however, who is the possessor of these books, a feeling of regret that
the editor did not follow his original intention and give more of the
writings of the author. The wish to have at hand the complete works of
the great American, and to have them in as attractive a form as that in
which Mr. Godwin has arranged them is strong enough to far outweigh his
unjustifiable fear of making too voluminous a collection.


[J] Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.
Rendered into English verse by Edward Fitzgerald, with an accompaniment
of drawings by Elihu Vedder. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 1884. Price,

[K] Atala. By Chauteaubriand. Translated by James Spence Harry.
Illustrated by Gustave Doré. Introduction by Edward J. Harding. Extra
cloth, full gilt, $5.00: full Morocco, extra, $10. New York: Cassell &
Co. 1884.

[L] Prose Writings of William Cullen Bryant. Edited by Parke
Godwin. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1884.


Euphrasia and Alberta. Poetic Romances. By John Ap Thomas Jones.
Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co. 1884.

French Conversation. By J. D. Gaillard. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1885.

Journal of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, held
in Philadelphia, May, 1884. Edited by the Rev. David S. Monroe, D.D. New
York: Phillips & Hunt. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe.

The Life of John Howard Payne. Author of Home, Sweet Home. With
illustrations. By Gabriel Harrison. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co.

Elements of Geometry. By Eli T. Tappan, LL.D. New York: D. Appleton & Co.

Elements of English Speech. By Isaac Bassett Choate. New York: D.
Appleton & Co. 1884.

The Life of the Rev. Philip William Otterbein. By the Rev. A. W. Dewey,
A. M. With an introduction by Bishop J. Weaver, D.D. Dayton, Ohio: United
Brethren Publishing House. 1884.

The Children of the Bible. By Fannie L. Armstrong. With an introduction
by Frances E. Willard. New York: Fowler & Wells Co., Publishers. Price,

Outlines of Metaphysics. By Herman Lotze. Translated and edited by George
T. Ladd. Boston: Ginn, Heath & Co. 1884.

Appleton’s Chart Primer. By Rebecca D. Rickoff. New York: D. Appleton &
Co. 1885.

The A B C Reader. By Sarah F. Buckalew and Margaret W. Wells. New York:
A. Lovell & Co.

The Philosophy of Ralph Cudworth. By Charles E. Lowry, A. M. New York:
Phillips & Hunt. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe. 1884.

Elements of Calculus. By James M. Taylor. Boston: Ginn, Heath & Co. 1884.

Notes on Ingersoll. By the Rev. L. A. Lambert. Buffalo, N. Y.: Buffalo
Catholic Publication Company. 1884.

The Methodist Year Book for 1885. Edited by W. H. De Puy, D.D., LL. D.
New York: Phillips & Hunt. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe.

One Little Rebel. By Julia B. Smith. New York: Phillips & Hunt.
Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe. 1884

The Story of the Resurrection. By William H. Furness, D.D. Philadelphia:
J. B. Lippincott & Co. 1885.

Square and Compass. By Oliver Optic. With illustrations. Boston: Lee and
Shepard. New York: Charles T. Dillingham. 1885.

Friends in Feathers and Fur. For Young Folks. By James Johannot. New
York: D. Appleton & Co. 1885.


Among the many beautiful things which art and taste and money combined
to furnish for the holidays nothing surpassed the Christmas cards of L.
Prang & Co. In design, coloring and finish it is difficult to see how
they could be improved. It will interest those of our readers who expect
to visit the New Orleans Exposition to know that all Messrs. Prang &
Co.’s former prize cards and the frames, with consecutive proofs of a
reproduction, have been sent to the Massachusetts department at New
Orleans by special invitation of the State Commission. The collection of
prize designs recently exhibited in New York and Boston by Mr. L. Prang
is now, by special invitation, shown in the Art Institute in Chicago,
and, in response to a similar request made by the managers of the Museum
of Fine Arts at St. Louis, this collection of paintings will be sent to
that city later on.

       *       *       *       *       *

The banquet of the C. L. S. C. Alumni, which was to have been in Boston
in February, will be held at Lake View, Wednesday, July 22. The committee
decided upon this change when it was found that Chancellor Vincent,
Professors Hurlbut and Holmes, also Prof. Sherwin, could not be present
in February.

       *       *       *       *       *

Important to members of the Class of 1888. The first article on “How to
make Home Beautiful,” which was published in _Alma Mater_ No. 2 last
year, will be mailed to all members of the class of 1888, during the
present year, 1884-5. We were unable to have this article reprinted in
time to accompany _Alma Mater_ No. 3, which was sent last month to all
members of the C. L. S. C.

                                                           J. H. VINCENT.

       *       *       *       *       *

The last copy of _The Outlook_ published by the class of 1884 appeared in
December. It contains much news of interest to the class, the class list
of graduates as made up to November 1st, including 1,387 names, and the
editor’s farewell. _The Outlook_ has been a faithful and zealous advocate
of the interests of the “Irrepressibles.”

       *       *       *       *       *

People of all denominations loved and honored Bishops Simpson and Asbury
of the M. E. Church. At the recent centennial celebration of that church
a fitting souvenir to these two noble men was displayed in the form of
medallions, on which were embossed the heads of the two bishops. These
medallions were mounted in a leather case lined with satin. It forms a
beautiful object for any one’s collection of souvenirs.

       *       *       *       *       *

’82 CLASS MOTTO.—Members of the Pioneer class are reminded that the
selection of a motto was remitted to a committee. Any member prepared to
make a suggestion in the matter is invited to send it to Lewis C. Peake,
Drawer 2,559, Toronto, Canada. The general feeling of the class was that
the motto should be in English.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE CHAUTAUQUA MUSICAL READING CLUB is a new department of Chautauqua
work. The course has been thoughtfully arranged in consultation with many
among the most cultured musicians in the land, and is of such recognized
merit that, with the hearty approval of the faculty, it has been adopted
in the New England Conservatory of Music at Boston. Information may be
obtained concerning the C. M. R. C. by addressing W. F. Sherwin, Director
C. M. R. C., Boston, Mass.


The following list of graduates of the Class of 1884 appears according to
states. It has been prepared with care by the office secretary, Miss Kate
F. Kimball.

Persons whose names are marked * have died since graduation.


    Allen, Mrs. Almira L.
    Beale, Miss Annie C.
    Beck, the Rev. Charles A.
    Bruce, Mrs. Eveleen
    Buck, Mrs. F. R.
    Estes, Miss Eva M.
    Fletcher, Mrs. Sarah F.
    French, Mrs. Emma M.
    Grant, Mrs. Nellie
    Hobart, Mrs. Augusta A.
    Longfellow, Miss Mary O.
    Lunt, Miss Mary K.
    Page, Mrs. Geo. N.
    Palmer, Mrs. Maria B.
    Reynolds, Mrs. Mary J.
    Robinson, Mrs. Frances H. B.
    Sanborn, Miss Gulielma P.
    Skinner, Miss Sarah E.
    Varney, Miss Clara B.
    Woodbury, Mrs. Mae B.

_New Hampshire._

    Avaun, the Rev. J. M.
    Baker, Miss Nellie M.
    Beckwith, the Rev. Geo. A.
    Cleworth, Mrs. Cleora B.
    Emerson, Miss Hattie E.
    Farwell, Mrs. Marion L.
    James, Mrs. Lizzie B.
    Lane, John G.
    Lewis, Mrs. Hannah E.
    Moore, George W.
    Pettengill, Miss Selina D.
    Russell, Mrs. Helen I.
    Senter, Miss Nella M.
    Shepherd, Miss Betsey B.
    Stiles, Miss Nellie
    Worthley. Mrs. Emma L.


    Clark, Mrs. Mary W.
    Clark, Miss Susan E.
    Farnham, Mrs. Roswell
    Farr, Miss Hattie J.
    Howell, Mrs. Elsie S.
    Lovejoy, Miss Martha H.
    Merrill, the Rev. Charles H.
    Merrill, Mrs. Laura B.
    Read, Miss Keziah H.
    Sheldon, Mrs. Charles F.
    Stedman, Miss Clara M.
    Streeter, Miss Emilie E.
    Thomas, Mrs. H., Jr.
    Wires, Mrs. Eveline W.


    Alexander, Miss Harriet I.
    Allis, Miss Mary L.
    Alvord, the Rev. Augustus
    Anderson, William E.
    Baber, Miss Eliza M.
    Baber, Miss Fannie
    Bacon, Mrs. Leora A.
    Baker, Samuel E.
    Ball, Miss Nettie
    Ball, Miss Minnie L.
    Ball, Miss Carrie E.
    Batchelder, Miss Harriette S.
    Blackmer, Miss Nellie E.
    Blackmer, Miss Mary L.
    Blake, Miss Evelyn A.
    Blanchard, Frederic W.
    Blanchard, Miss Isabel I.
    Blanchard, Walter A.
    Blodgett, Miss Maria L. C.
    Borden, Miss Helen M.
    Borden, Mrs. Harriet A.
    Bosworth, Miss Mary E.
    Bowers, George N.
    Boyd, Miss Margaret W.
    Bradford, Mrs. Helen M.
    Bradford, Lemuel B.
    Bridges, Mrs. Jennie L. C.
    Brigham, Miss Mary M.
    Brigham, Miss Helen F.
    Brooman, Mrs. L. G.
    Brown, Miss Nellie M.
    Brown, Miss Lottie E.
    Burgess, Miss Lucy A.
    Burnett, Mrs. Hattie C.
    Burns, Miss Mirriam A.
    Buswell, Mrs. Clara L.
    Caffin, Miss Mabel B.
    Candlin, the Rev. Joseph
    Candlin, Mrs. Ruth E.
    Chapman, Mrs. Lizzie C.
    Chapman, Miss Eva
    Chase, Charlie S.
    Chauncey, Mrs. Mary C.
    Cheever, Miss Lizzie H.
    Chenery, Miss Hattie M.
    Cheney, Miss A. Oreanna
    Clutia, Mrs. S. P.
    Coburn, Mrs. S. A.
    Cochran, Miss Emma A.
    Cogswell, Miss Kate A.
    Colesworthy, William G.
    Coombs, Miss J. Fannie
    Cowan, Mrs. P. D.
    Crane, Miss Mary L.
    Crosby, Miss Sarah J.
    Cummings, Miss Mary E.
    Cummings, Mrs. Ada A.
    Cushing, Mrs. Mary H.
    Cushing, the Rev. John R.
    Davis, Miss Emma A.
    Davis, Mrs. Mial
    Delano, Mrs. Emma L.
    Delva, Mrs. K. Augusta
    Dennis, Miss Georgette E.
    Dimick, Mrs. Lizzie G.
    Doane, Mrs. Clara J.
    Doty, Mrs. Julia C.
    Douglass, Miss Mary
    Drew, Miss Fidelia
    Eastland, Miss Georgiana
    Eaton, Mrs. Belle M.
    Eaton, Mrs. Daniel W.
    Eldridge, Mrs. Vesta K. F.
    Ely, George W.
    Ely, Miss Josephine L.
    Emerson, Miss Mary J.
    Fairbanks, Mrs. Lydia L.
    Fairchild, Mrs. Maria H.
    Fay, Mrs. Abby B.
    Fay, Miss Anna B.
    Fay, George E.
    Fay, Miss Anna C.
    Fisher, Mrs. Angie B.
    Fiske, Miss Ella A.
    Flanders, Mrs. Elvira W. C.
    Floyd, 2d, David
    Fraser, Mrs. Daniel F.
    Freeman, Miss Emma F.
    Freeman, Miss Annie E.
    French, George B.
    Frye, Charles H.
    Fullarton, Mrs. Mary A.
    Gardner, Mrs. Sarah A.
    Gill, Mrs. M. F.
    Goodwin, Miss Annie A.
    Goodwin, Miss Lucy B.
    Grant, Miss Mary
    Grant, Miss Martha
    Greenwood, Miss Nellie
    Grout, Mrs. Ellen L.
    Gustin, Mrs. Ellen G.
    Hadley, Miss Amanda M.
    Hall, the Rev. A. J.
    Hammond, Miss Jennie S.
    Hancock, Mrs. Warren
    Harrington, Francis M.
    Harrington, Miss Ada L.
    Harrington, Mrs. Mary L.
    Harris, Miss Sarah G.
    Hawley, Miss Emily E.
    Hayward, Miss Nellie A.
    Hayward, Mrs. Susan C.
    Hersey, Miss Lizzie M.
    Hersey, Miss Ellen M.
    Hewins, Miss Emeline
    Higgins, Miss Sarah B.
    Hildreth, Mrs. Kate B.
    Hitchcock, Mrs. Nellie E.
    Hodges, Mary A.
    Holway, Mrs. Susan B.
    Holway, Miss Sadie O.
    Houghton, Miss Mary J. W.
    Howard, Henry F.
    Howard, Mrs. Mary C.
    Howard, Mrs. Louisa B.
    Hull, Miss Abby F.
    Hutchinson, Miss Cora F.
    Inman, Mrs. Edna M.
    Irving, Charles H.
    Irving, Mrs. Sarah M.
    Johnson, the Rev. Charles T.
    Jones, Addison W.
    Jones, Mrs. Sophronia B.
    Jones, Miss Eva G.
    Keene, Mrs. Fannie S.
    Kendall, Miss Amanda M.
    Kimball, Edward A.
    Kimball, Mrs. Elsie E.
    King, Mrs. Laura C.
    Kinsman, Miss Mary L.
    Kneil, Miss Emily G.
    Knight, Joseph K.
    Ladd, Mrs. Rebecca E.
    Lawrence, Miss Mary M.
    Lee, Mrs. Elizabeth R.
    Leonard, Mrs. Kate H.
    Leonard, Miss M. Fanny
    Leonard, Miss Anna R.
    Lewis, Miss Lizzie M.
    Light, Charles F.
    Light, James B.
    Light, Mrs. Ellen E.
    Lindsay, Miss Florence
    Litchfield, Mrs. Isabelle W.
    Little, Mrs. William C.
    Lloyd, Miss Mary A.
    Manning, John M.
    Manning, Mrs. J. M.
    Merriam, Miss Susan M.*
    Marsh, the Rev. Francis J.
    Marston, Mrs. Carrie M.
    Marston, Luther M.
    Matthews, the Rev. Henry
    McClure, Miss Louisa
    McGeoch, W. Stanley
    McKeil, Miss Jessie
    Meriam, Miss Effie J.
    Mills, Mrs. Jeannette R.
    Mitchell, Miss Elizabeth L.
    Moore, Miss Ella F.
    Moreland, Miss Mary L.
    Morse, Miss Nannie M.
    Morse, Miss Mary E.
    Murdock, Mrs. Lucretia Y.
    Norris, Mrs. Chas. S.
    Ordway, Miss Myra A.
    Owen, George A.
    Packard, Miss Helen M.
    Parker, Mrs. Anna E.
    Partridge, Miss Deborah A.
    Patterson, Miss Etta M.
    Peabody, Daniel D.
    Pease, Miss Alice N.
    Peppeard, Miss Augusta
    Phelps, Miss Emily E.
    Pike, Arthur G.
    Pike, Miss Emily C.
    Pike, Miss Sarah A.
    Pike, Mrs. Azelia M.
    Platts, Mrs. Annie M.
    Plummer, Mrs. Amanda H.
    Prescott, Miss Emma L.
    Price, Miss Lotta A.
    Purington, Miss M. Emma
    Pynchon, Mrs. Charlotte E.
    Radford, Mrs. Anna M.
    Randall, Mrs. Lucy A.
    Ranger, Mrs. Mary A.
    Ray, Miss Hattie C.
    Richardson, the Rev. Wellen N.
    Richardson, Mrs. Helen L.
    Richardson, Mrs. Mary A.
    Richardson, the Rev. W. G.
    Ring, Miss Martha D.
    Robinson, Mrs. J. G.
    Rockwood, Miss Susie A.
    Rodliff, Miss Anna I.
    Rolfe, Mrs. Helen M.
    Rooke, Mrs Emma E.
    Ross, William E.
    Ross, Miss Helen V.
    Ruggles, Miss Olive
    Ryan, Miss Mary E.
    Safford, Mrs. Henry G.
    Safford, Miss Eliza
    Sargent, Mrs. Hannah E.
    Scales, Miss Sarah E.
    Severance, Miss Millie I.
    Shattuck, Miss Clara L.
    Sherman, Mrs. Clara A.
    Sill, Miss Frances A.
    Skene, the Rev. George
    Skinner, Miss Mary S.
    Skinner, Miss Maria S.
    Skinner, Miss Abbie A.
    Smith, Miss Effie
    Spalding, Mrs. Edward L.
    Sprague, Miss Flora H.
    Stafford, Mrs. B. F.
    Stanley, Mrs. Susan C.
    Stevens, Ira W.
    Stone, Henry R.
    Stone, Mrs. H. H. P.
    Stone, Miss Ellen K.
    Struthers, Miss Mary S.
    Sykes, Miss Jennie E.
    Taylor, Mrs. Marie E.
    Taylor, Miss Nellie M.
    Thayer, Mrs. Mary E.
    Thing, Miss Addie L.
    Thompson, Mrs. Helen A. B.
    Thompson, Mrs. Lydia M. E.
    Thompson, Mrs. Mary C.
    Thurber, Mrs. Lizzie M.
    Trask, Robert D.
    Trask, Mrs. Achsa E.
    Traversee, Mrs. Marietta
    Traversee, Miss Mary E.
    Trow, Miss Lizzie F.
    Varnum, Miss Hannah
    Wadsworth, Miss Jennie E.
    Walker, Jefferson C.
    Warren, Mrs. M. W.
    Watson, Mrs. Thomas A.
    Wentworth, Mrs. A. L.
    Wheeler, Miss Lizzie J.
    White, Mrs. Emma C.
    White, Miss Ellen M.
    Whitney, Mrs. Ella M.
    Whitney, Mrs. F. W.
    Whitney, Miss Nellie S.
    Willey, Miss Nellie M.
    Williams, Charles W.
    Williams, Albert P.
    Wilson, Miss Emily J.
    Wood, Miss Alice A.
    Woodbury, the Rev. Webster
    Woodbury, Mrs. Webster
    Woodward, Miss Clara O.

_Rhode Island._

    Aldrich, Mrs. Marcia A.
    Aldrich, Mrs. David L.
    Armington, Miss Harriet A.
    Barber, Miss Arabel E.
    Barney, Mrs. Sarah F.
    Brownell, Miss Ella W.
    Dexter, Mrs. W. W.
    Fiske, Dr. Elmer S.
    Fitz, William E.
    Goodier, the Rev. Erastus W.
    Goodier, Mrs. Lizzie M.
    Kendall, Miss Emma F.
    Kendrick, Mrs. Phebe E.
    Kendrick, John E.
    Langworthy, Miss Hattie G.
    Leavitt, Mrs Abbie G.
    Leavitt, Miss Charlotte E.
    Lee, Mrs. Nellie
    Lewis, Miss Eugenia L.
    Mason, Mrs. Ella K.
    Nason, Mrs. Medora T.
    Nye, John M.
    Nye, William H.
    Owen, Miss Hannah A.
    Paine, Miss Lydia A.
    Potter, Mrs. Sarah M.
    Puffer, Mrs. Emma L. S.
    Steere, Miss Rachel
    Stevens, Miss Mary
    Sullivan, James J.
    Vars, John
    White, Miss Ella E.


    Baldwin, Miss Lotte A.
    Beman, Miss Emma
    Bidwell, Mrs. Emma W. B.
    Bradley, Miss Sarah L.
    Brewer, Miss Ellen M.
    Bridge, the Rev. Wm. D.
    Bridge, Mrs. Mary S. H.
    Buffett, Miss Mary E.
    Bushnell, Miss Sarah M.
    Bushnell, Mrs. Margaret A.
    Caulkins, Miss Abbie A.
    Cowles, Miss Catherine M.
    Cowles, Miss Elizabeth A.
    Davies, John C.
    Davies, Mrs. Lois F.
    De Forest, Miss Emily M.
    Fenn, Willis I.
    Fowler, Miss Hattie E.
    Gilbert, Miss Anna L.
    Gillespy, Miss Estelle
    Griswold, Miss Corinth
    Harrison, Oscar G.
    Hawley, Miss Mary F.
    Huntington, Frederick L.
    Hurd, Wilbur F.
    Jones, Mrs. Andrew F.
    Kirtland, Miss Grace E.
    Lathrop, Mrs. R. S.
    Loomis, Miss Jane E.
    Lowry, Miss Minnie B.
    Merriam, Mrs. Etta M.
    Morton, Jas. H.
    Porter, Miss Ida A.
    Scranton, Miss Emma A.
    Seward, Miss Hattie E.
    Smith, Miss Lillian B.
    Stanton, Miss Julia E.
    Stone, Mrs. Sarah A.
    Sturtevant, Mrs. Annie E.
    Treat, Miss Susie C.
    Treat, Miss Emily A.
    Underwood, Miss Clara B.
    Underwood, Mrs. Clara A.
    Vaill, Miss Nellie E.
    Warriner, Charles H.
    Whitmore, Miss Clara L.
    Witter, Miss Ruth
    Wooster, Mrs. Kate A.

_New York._

    Adams, Miss Valeria N.
    Allen, Miss Susie
    Allen, Miss Mary E.
    Allen, the Rev. Walter O.
    Andrews, Mrs. Annie M.
    Anoski, Miss Rose L.
    Atchinson, Miss Harriet L.
    Babcock, Miss Mary F.
    Bailey, Miss Carrie A.
    Baker, Mrs. E. J. L.
    Baldwin, Miss Frances A.
    Baldwin, Clair H.
    Barbour, Miss Mary E.
    Barker, Miss S. Emma
    Barnes, Miss Alice E.
    Bartholomew, Mrs. Tillie C.
    Baxter, Miss Helen A.
    Benedict, Mrs. Calphurnia N.
    Benjamin, Miss Nettie D.
    Bennett, Edward N.
    Bickley, Mrs. Lizzie H.
    Biddle, the Rev. William T.
    Billings, Mrs. Mary S.
    Bliss, Miss Nettie G.
    Bond, Miss Bessie
    Bourne, Miss Elma A.
    Brainard, Miss Emma C.
    Briggs, Miss Carrie E.
    Brown, Mrs. Esther E. C.
    Brown, Miss Elizabeth
    Brown, Miss Helen
    Brown, Mrs. J. S.
    Brown, Miss Teresa
    Brown, Miss Alice J.
    Brown, John S.
    Brown, Mrs. Helen M.
    Brown, Miss Edith M.
    Brown, Mrs. C. K.
    Buell, Miss Elizabeth C.
    Camp, Miss Elizabeth B.
    Carpenter, Miss Hannah M.
    Carr, Miss M. Jennie
    Carson, Mrs. Charles H.
    Carter, Miss Maggie A.
    Cash, Mrs. Adella
    Caswell, Miss Hattie C.
    Chapin, Miss Ida E.
    Chappell, Mrs. Hattie F.
    Clark, Charles E.
    Clark, Miss Delia H.
    Clark, Edwin J.
    Clark, Lizzie
    Clark, Miss Mary W.
    Clinton, Miss E. Eloise
    Coe, Miss Lottie A.
    Colby, John E.
    Colby, Mrs. Lucy J.
    Cook, Mrs. Mary D.
    Cowles, Miss Kittie M.
    Coy, Mrs. W. Henry
    Crane, Edward J.
    Crannell, Miss Julia W.
    Curtis, Mrs. Julia M.
    Curtis, Miss Fanny
    Dailey, Charles J.
    Dearstyne, Miss E. Louise
    Dempster, Mrs. Mary J.
    Deverell, Miss Sarah A.
    Dobbin, Miss Lizzie G.
    Donaldson, Mrs. Mary F.
    Douglass, Miss Martha B.
    Driver, Mrs. Ida M.
    Dunn, Miss Mary S.
    Durfee, Miss Annie E.
    Edge, Miss Elizabeth
    Edmonds, Miss Lottie E.
    Ellis, Miss Jennie L.
    Farman, Miss Mattie E.
    Fisher, Edward L.
    Fisher, Miss F. Eugenie
    Fletcher, Miss Minnie A.
    Foote, Miss Ellen E.
    Foote, Miss Frances A.
    Fox, Miss Rosalie M.
    Frost, Miss Libbie E.
    Gail, Mrs. Henrietta S.
    Gammans, Mrs. Etta B.
    Gaston, Miss Mary C.
    Gere, Justus T.
    Gillespie, Miss Emily T.
    Gillespy, Miss Edith
    Graybiel, Miss Sara N.
    Green, Mrs. Carrie A.
    Greene, George E.
    Greene, Miss Emma C.
    Gregory, Miss Libbie
    Griffin, Miss Olivia A.
    Gunton, Mrs. Henrietta M.
    Hahn, Miss Hattie E.
    Hampton, Miss Jennie S.
    Handshaw, James E.
    Hannum, Mrs. Ida
    Harrington, Miss Sarah D.
    Harrington, Mrs. Adelaide L.
    Harris, Miss Lucinda
    Hartwell, Miss Mary H.
    Hathorn, Ira B.
    Haviland, Mrs. C. W.
    Hawley, Miss Mary T.
    Hearn, the Rev. George
    Hendrickson, Mrs. Adeline
    Highriter, Miss F. Maria
    Hitchcock, Mrs. Mary E.
    Holden, Alexander M.
    How, George V.
    Hope, Mrs. Mary B.
    Hopkins, Miss Susie C.
    Hopkins, Miss Annie W.
    Hopkins, Miss Hattie E.
    Houck, Miss Kate A.
    Huff, Mrs. Anna E.
    Hull, Miss Eliza J.
    Hunsicker, Miss Ida M.
    Ingraham, Miss S. E.
    Ipsen, Miss Alicia L.
    Jenks, Miss Mary E.
    Johns, Miss Dora
    Johnson, Mrs. S. Lizzie
    Jones, Miss Cora M.
    Judd, Mrs. Ellen M.
    Kellogg, Miss Lottie R.
    Kendall, Miss Clara E.
    Kent, Miss Annabelle
    Kibbey, Mrs. Louisa
    Kibbey, Samuel
    King, Mrs. Olie C.
    King, Clarence
    Kinsley, Fred. A.
    Kinsman, Miss Jeannie E.
    Kipp, Miss Alice R.
    Knight, Miss Jane
    Labagh, Miss Maria C.
    Lamson, Miss Eva S.
    Lapham, Mrs. Geo. P.
    Lathrop, Miss Carrie
    Lathrop, Miss Ella M.
    Latimer, the Rev. E. Herman
    Lent, William J.
    Loveridge, Miss Grace C.
    Luther, Stephen
    Lyon, Miss Mary L.
    Mackey, Miss Florence A.
    Mallette, Miss Mary E.
    Manrow, Milton
    Marley, William J.
    Mathews, Mrs. Candace P.
    Matthews, Andrew J.
    Melven, Emmett S.
    Miller, Charles E.
    Milliman, Robert L.
    Milliman, Mrs. Susan F.
    Miner, George G.
    Mogg, Mrs. Jennie A.
    Moore, Mrs. Philena B.
    Morrison, Miss Mary L.
    Morrison, Miss Emma F.
    Martin, Wilbor A.
    Newton, Miss Lura
    Nichols, Miss Nancy M.
    Noble, Miss Grace A.
    Northup, Miss Ella A.
    Ogden, Mrs. Florence W.
    Olney, Miss Minnie M.
    Parker, Mrs. Sabine E.
    Parmelee, Miss Lizzie F.
    Pease, Miss Ettie E.
    Phyfe, Archibald B.
    Pindar, Miss Rose E.
    Pond, Miss Martha
    Pratt, Miss Lettie C.
    Rhoda, Mrs. Ella A.
    Rice, Mrs. Maggie C.
    Rice, Mrs. Clara E.
    Rockwell, Mrs. Ada E.
    Rockwell, the Rev. Lyman E.
    Ross, Mrs. Mary E. K.
    Rowel, Miss Eliza L.
    Rowell, Miss Ida E.
    Sammons, Charles
    Sanford, Miss Frances E.
    Seely, Mrs. Hannah
    Schellinger, Miss M. Amelia
    Sheldon, Miss Emma J.
    Shumway, Mrs. A. Adda H.
    Silliman, Miss Mary A.
    Simmons, Mrs. Jennie E.
    Slada, Miss Emma D.
    Slada, Miss Mary M.
    Slattery, John T.
    Sleeper, Charles W.
    Smallbone, Miss Emma J.
    Smith, Mrs. Maria A.
    Sotham, Miss Mary E.
    Spooner, Marvin L.
    Spooner, Mrs. Lina A. H.
    Stanley, Miss Jennie B.
    Stevens, Mrs. Jennie
    Stilson, Miss Alice M.
    Stone, Miss Nellie M.
    Stone, Miss Addie H.
    Stoutenburgh, Miss Mary E.
    Tackitt, Miss Ellen
    Thomas, Mrs. Maria L.
    Terry, Mrs. Armenia M.
    Terry, C. L. Emory
    Tompkins, Mrs. Elizabeth S.
    Torr, Miss Lizzie E.
    Torry, Miss Grace
    Trowbridge, Miss Helen R.
    Trowbridge, Miss Augusta E.
    Vail, Mrs. Horton
    Vail, Horton
    Van Cruyningham, Daniel
    Van Cruyningham, Mrs. M. E.
    Van Ness, Miss Lottie R.
    Viele, Miss Ada L.
    Wadsworth, Mrs. Carrie K.
    Walley, William
    Warner, Mrs. Jane R.
    Weimert, Miss Kittie
    White, Mrs. Harriet H.
    Wight, Miss Martha A.
    Williams, Mrs. Franc S.
    William, Miss Emma J.
    Williamson, Matthew D.
    Willis, Mrs. C. C.
    Willis, Charles C.
    Winspear, Miss Clara J.
    Wood, Mrs. James M.
    Wood, Miss Lizzie
    Wooden, Miss Emily S.
    Wooden, Miss Loretta E.
    Wooden, Miss Laura E.
    Westcott, Mrs. Addie L.

_New Jersey._

    Anderson, Miss Elizabeth
    Baldwin, Miss Lizzie
    Blanchet, Mrs. Mary C.
    Brackin, Miss M. Fannie
    Carty, Miss Kate
    Davis, Miss Mary H.
    Delano, Miss Laura C.
    Dilts, Miss Ella V.
    Dunn, Miss Clara I.
    Ewing, Miss Olive M.
    Fortner, Miss Sarah E.
    Gokey, Miss Delia
    Hall, Miss Helen F.
    Hedden, Mrs. L. O.
    Hoemer, George P.
    Holbert, Mrs. Frances B.*
    Huyler, Adam
    McKay, Mrs. Mary H.
    Mead, Miss Margaret H.
    Morehouse, Miss Hattie A.
    Norris, Miss Alice L.
    Parker, Ellis
    Peet, Dr. Gilead
    Riker, Miss Grace H.
    Rittenhouse, Miss Ada F.
    Rogers, Miss Hannah D.
    Smith, Miss Abbie T.
    Spring, Edward A.
    Stevenson, Miss Georgiana
    Taylor, Mrs. Agnes C.
    Thompson, Miss M. Reba
    Weeks, Miss Mary F.
    Wegmann, Miss Bertha B.
    Woolston, Miss Ray B.
    Woolston, Miss Beulah D.


    Alcorn, Miss Lettie E.
    Alcorn, Miss Alice M.
    Allen, Elisha M.
    Allison, Miss Louisa
    Arnett, Miss Aroline
    Baker, Miss Ida A.
    Bar, Miss Irene
    Beatty, Mrs. Agnes B.
    Beatty, Mrs. Julia S.
    Beers, Mrs. Celia H.
    Bethune, John T.
    Bolard, Mrs. Jennie E.
    Bradley, Miss Mary S.
    Braham, Miss Isabella H.
    Brisbin, Miss Florence
    Buchanan, Mrs. M. Josephine
    Buehler, Mrs. Anna F.
    Burrows, Mrs. Lizzie M.
    Cernea, Miss Anna T.
    Clark, Norman H.
    Closson, James H.
    Clark, Mrs. Harriet R.
    Cooke, Mrs. Cordelia H.
    Copeland, Miss Irene
    Copeland, J. Renwick
    Cox, Miss Ettie A.
    Crosby, Miss Lizzie C.
    Dale, Mrs. Elizabeth C.
    Dampman, Miss Lizzie B.
    Davidson, Miss Anna
    Dewey, Mrs. Martha J.
    Dickinson, Levi S.
    Dickson, Miss Maggie A.
    Dorand, Miss Emma A.
    Du Bois, Mrs. Ella R.
    Dunham, Mrs. Helen
    Eaton, Mrs. S. J. M.
    Ely, Miss Alice K.
    English, Miss Ellen R.
    Evans, Miss H. Louise
    Farley, Mrs. H. N.
    Fellows, Mrs. Sarah
    Findlay, Peter
    Finley, Miss May A.
    Fishburn, Miss Lizzie E.
    Fisher, Miss Mate E.
    Frescoln, Oscar P.
    Frew, William A.
    Frysinger, Edward
    Furst, Miss M. Katie
    Gail, Miss Emma B.
    Gardner, Lot
    Gerould, Miss Flora E.
    Gyger, Miss Hannah
    Harris, Edward F.
    Henry, Miss Elizabeth
    Hill, Miss Zelia
    Hill, Miss Ella
    Hill, Miss Mattie J.
    Horner, Miss Mary A.
    Hostetter, Miss Venetta E.
    Howe, Miss Cora
    Hubbard, Miss Mary A.
    Humphriss, Mrs. Mary I.
    Hunter, Le Roy M.
    Ingram, Miss Almeda R.
    Jackson, Mrs. Amanda A.
    Jones, Harry L.
    Kelly, Miss M. Emma
    Ladd, Miss Anna A.
    Lawrence, James A.
    Leavitt, Mrs. Walter
    Little, Miss Ettie E.
    Love, Miss Myrtle L.
    Marsh, Mrs. G. D.
    Marsh, George D.
    Mason, Edwin T.
    McElroy, Mrs. Jennie
    McFarland, Mrs. Caroline
    McIntire, Miss Annie M.
    Miller, George W.
    Miller, Miss Emily A.
    Moford, Miss H. Mary
    Morrow, Miss Mary B.
    Myton, Thomas W.
    Neal, Mrs. H. N.
    Nevin, Miss Laura
    Oglevee, the Rev. Jesse A. B.
    Oudry, Miss Katie E.
    Paxson, Miss Sallie B.
    Pearson, Miss Hulda A.
    Pettit, Miss Harriet L.
    Purdy, Mary E.
    Reineke, Miss Carrie W.
    Reineke, Miss Minnie E.
    Renn, Miss Jennie W.
    Ross, Mrs. Mary M. F.
    Rowland, Frank S.
    Sabin, the Rev. Edward N.
    Sammons, Miss Fannie B.
    Sammons, Miss Martha L.
    Sargent, Mrs. R. H.
    Schooley, Miss Jennie C.
    Scott, Miss Mary I.
    Scott, Albert O.
    Scott, Frank H.
    Selkregg, Mrs. I. V.
    Sheldon, Willard M.
    Siegfried, Miss Stella
    Smith, Miss Clara L.
    Smith, Christopher W.
    Smith, Miss Emma C.
    Smith, Miss Kate F.
    Smith, Mrs. Lou M.
    Smith, Miss Ella M.
    Smith, Mrs. Annie M.
    Spaulding, F. W.
    Starkweather, Miss Arvilla H.
    Steele, Herbert
    Stoever, Mrs. Laura M.
    Stoever, Miss Sue E.
    Stone, Mrs. C. E.
    Straub, Miss Effie T.
    Strong, Mrs. Mary A.
    Strong, Henry A.
    Tracy, Mrs. Edith E. P.
    Tracy, Mrs. Malie
    Tracy, Malie
    Trosh, Nathaniel F.
    True, Miss Mary E.
    Tryon, Mrs. George W.
    Tryon, Miss Arabella
    Thomas, Miss Ada F.
    Warner, Mrs. A. A. H.
    Wilson, Mrs. Ida G.
    Wood, Collin


    Cahall, Joseph L.


    Bayne, Lawrence P.
    Markell, Miss Virginia H.
    Parkhurst, Miss Alice S.
    Rawlings, Joshua S.
    Rodgers, Mrs. Amy C.
    Sadtler, Miss M. Adelaide
    Smyth, Miss Lizzie K.

_District of Columbia._

    Blodgett, Carrie A.
    Coakley, Miss Rosetta E.
    Darby, Miss Susan C.
    Dudley, Frederick E.
    Hall, Mrs. Jennie B.
    Johns, Miss Jessie C.
    McKinney, Miss Mary E.
    Meacham, Miss Annie M.
    Nalle, Mary
    Parke, Miss Caroline E.
    Patterson, Miss Emma
    Pumphrey, Miss Cora A.


    Alexander, Wellington G.
    Hatcher, Mrs. Charles

_West Virginia._

    Barnes, Mrs. Mary E.
    Carter, Miss Sarah P.
    Clohan, Miss Elizabeth
    Forman, Israel
    Fowler, Miss Emma A.
    Glass, Miss Annie V.
    Pierpoint, Miss A. Pierrie
    Reppetto, Miss Mary D.
    Riheldaffer, the Rev. Wm. G.
    Turner, Miss Adela

_North Carolina._

    Small, the Rev. J. B.
    South Carolina.
    Harris, Mrs. Kittie S.


    Cox, Miss R. Aussie
    Cragg, Mrs. Mattie
    Gunn, Miss Frances A.
    Heazlitt, Clarence W.
    Ruttle, Miss Eliza J.
    Winall, Miss Vina
    Winall, Miss Belle
    Winall, Miss Eva
    Allen, Mrs. Mattie E.
    Bain, Daniel Hiram
    Fleece, Mrs. Mary T.
    Scott, F. N.
    Shearer, J. L.
    Tadlock, Mrs. Clara M.
    Thomas, Miss Anna W.
    Treadwell, Miss Annie D.


    Allen, Everett F.
    Colwell, Mrs. Emma R.
    Lyon, Miss Hattie J.
    Vaughan, Mrs. Myra


    Armstrong, Miss Frances L.


    Brooks, Miss Addie M.
    Steele, Miss Carrie J.
    Thompson, Miss Mary H.


    Kennedy, Miss Annie
    Leslie, Mrs. Sara McC.
    Watkins, Mrs. Lizzie E.


    Moore, Miss Cora L.
    Parker, Mrs. Bettie
    Row, Miss E. Evelyn
    Steele, Dr. N. C.
    Townes, Miss Julia G.
    Winter, Miss Kate E.


    Aldcroft, Miss Ella
    Alexander, Miss Cora E.
    Allan, Miss Nellie
    Alward, Miss Alice J.
    Armstrong, Mrs. Mary H.
    Armstrong, Mrs. Permelia B.
    Austin, Miss Florence
    Barnett, Miss M. Alma
    Beiler, the Rev. Samuel L.
    Beiler, Mrs. Anna F.
    Bell, Mrs. Alice
    Bell, J. W.
    Beyerly, Mrs. Julia H.
    Binkley, Miss Laura A.
    Brown, Mrs. J. H.
    Bunker, Miss Stella N.
    Bunker, Miss Clara
    Burge, Miss Zelma
    Burner, G. Washington
    Burt, Mrs. Nellie C.
    Burt, Miss Harriet C.
    Caldwell, Mrs. Sarah E.
    Cameron, Miss M. Amelia
    Chamberlain, Miss Fanny P.
    Chamberlain, Charles W.
    Chamberlain, Mrs. Charles W.
    Chancellor, Mrs. Lida B.
    Chandler, Miss Anna
    Chidlaw, Miss Mary I.
    Clemans, the Rev. Francis M.
    Clemans, Mrs. Sarah I.
    Colby, the Rev. Henry F.
    Crossley, Mrs. Cecelia S.
    Dayton, Mrs. James
    Deming, Miss Sophronia O.
    De Veny, Miss Belle M.
    Dietz, Will. C.
    Dimmick, Mrs. Hannah A.
    Elcock, Miss Lucy A.
    Facer, Miss Fannie R.
    Faulkner, Mrs. Amelia H.
    Ferriss, Frank E.
    Freeman, Mrs. Mary E.
    Fries, Miss Emmabel
    Gee, Samuel A.
    Giboney, Mrs. S. H.
    Goodrich, the Rev. Ira B.
    Goodrich, Mrs. Adaline C.
    Gough, Mrs. Sadie H.
    Grafing, John C.
    Guthrie, Miss Sarah I.
    Haight, Miss Louise J.
    Hammond, Mrs. Mary W.
    Hankins, Mrs. Mary J.
    Hart, Miss Mary P.
    Hayward, Miss Josephine A.
    Hicks, Miss Bella C.
    Highlands, John S.
    Hinckley, Mrs. Augusta V.
    Hine, Mrs. Mary A.
    Humphrey, Dr. Elwin
    Hussey, Elroy E.
    Kattenhorn, Miss Mary
    Kattenhorn, Miss Ella
    Keagey, Miss Carrie L.
    Kellogg, J. A.
    Kelly, Mrs. Carrie M.
    Kidder, Miss Mary I.
    Lee, Mrs. Dr. E. B.
    Loomis, Mrs. Letitia E.
    Loomis, Elisha S.
    Loudin, Mrs. Harriet C.
    Mann, Miss M. Maud
    Mansfield, Mrs. Howard
    March, Miss Lizzie G.
    McFarland, Mrs. Mary D.
    McKitrick, Mrs. Addie A.
    Minor, Mrs. J. A.
    Moore, the Rev. John W.
    Morse, Miss Belle G.
    Morgan, Mrs. Mary D.
    Morgan, Miss Lizzie
    Munson, Miss Nellie
    Murphy, Miss Marian A.
    Nash, Miss Harriet A.
    Parish, Miss Nettie A.
    Park, Mrs. Maria B.
    Park, Mrs. J. D.
    Parmelee, Mrs. Anna J.
    Parsons, Mrs. Lucinda M.
    Parsons, Mrs. Josie L.
    Patten, Charles E.
    Pearce, Miss Selina P.
    Pickett, Daniel D.
    Powers, Miss Minnie
    Randall, Mrs. Rebecca R.
    Reed, Miss Myrta
    Reed, Cornelius A.
    Rice, Miss Frances M.
    Richards, Miss Emily S.
    Robison, Miss Kate R.
    Ruckenbrod, Miss Maggie
    Saumenig, Miss Emily B.
    Schenck, Miss Claribel
    Scott, Miss Katie
    Scott, Miss Fannie
    Sherrard, Walter P.
    Shields, Miss Sarah E.
    Sloane, Miss Jeannette M.
    Smith, Miss Ione L.
    Smith, Miss Mary I.
    Snyder, Franklin E.
    Spillard, Mrs. Willa H.
    St. John, Mrs. M. P.
    Taylor, Mrs. Annette H.
    Taylor, Miss Ellen E.
    Taylor, Royal
    Thompson, Mrs. Ella P.
    Thorne, Miss Lizzie B.
    Trotter, Miss Sarah
    Walker, Mrs. Mary P. S.
    Walker, Miss M. Augusta
    Webb, Mrs. Dora V.
    Wheelock, Mrs. Estelle C.
    White, Miss Jennie
    White, the Rev. Levi
    White, Miss Fannie E.
    Whipple, Mrs. J. C.
    Wilcox, Mrs. Hannah E.
    Williams, Miss Etta C.
    Willis, Miss Laura B.
    Winter, Mrs. Laura C.
    Winter, the Rev. William W.
    Young, Miss Mary E.
    Zartman, Miss Essie H.
    Zuck, the Rev. William J.
    Zuck, Mrs. Jessie M.


    Alcott, Mrs. Ellen P.
    Baldwin, John J.
    Barry, Mrs. Fannie W.
    Berg, Mrs. Mattie V.
    Bettis, Mrs. Mary P.
    Boughman, Melancthon A.
    Bowen, Miss Loretta V.
    Busick, Mrs. Kate M.
    Clark, Miss Florence
    Crawford, Mrs. Jennie R.
    Daggett, Miss Angelia
    Denison, Mrs. Aurilla A.
    Dunn, Temple H.
    Ellis, Miss Grace
    Fitch, Miss Ida A.
    Fosdick, Miss Sophie H.
    Fosdick, Benajah S.
    Foster, Miss Madge
    Francis, Mrs. May
    Gooding, Mrs. Mary M.
    Goodman, Miss Clara M.
    Hackleman, Miss Indiana
    Hagenbook, Allen M.
    Hammond, Mrs. Angie L.
    Harter, Miss Mary C.
    Hascall, Miss Julia E.
    Hedden, Miss Theodosia E.
    Howard, Mrs. Cinderella J.
    Hudson, Mrs. H. S. B.
    Jackson, Miss Nellie M.
    Jamieson, Mrs. Hattie H.
    Jones, Miss S. Ella
    Kauffman, Jacob S.
    Lambert, Miss Lottie A.
    Lambert, Miss Tillie
    Lesley, Mrs. Edith
    Matheny, Miss Eva
    Matheny, Miss Mattie
    Maxwell, the Rev. John A.
    Maxwell, Mrs. Alice W.
    McCauley, Miss Rose
    Milburn, Miss Nellie F.
    Mitchell, Miss Marcia
    Moffit, Mrs. Rebecca A.
    Morrill, Miss Annie
    Morse, Mrs. Florence S.
    Newhouse, Mrs. Mary R.
    Ogg, Robert A.
    Ogg, Mrs. Louise H.
    Perkins, William H.
    Pickett, Miss Ella M.
    Power, Miss Ella
    Powers, Mrs. R. B.
    Ratliff, Dr. Barclay
    Roberts, Mrs. Lizzie M.
    Robertson, Miss Margaret
    Robinson, Mrs. Elvira T.
    Sabine, Miss Nettie W.
    Semans, Mrs. Sarah W.
    Sexton, Miss Ruby
    Shane, Miss Lizzie
    Smith, Miss Lilian G.
    Smith, Miss Laura
    St. John, Hermon F.
    Stoy, Mrs. L. R.
    Swope, Mrs. Mary E.
    Taylor, Miss Emily
    Towers, Mrs. Bel K.
    Town, Mrs. Laura L.
    Town, the Rev. Salem B.
    Townsend, Mrs. Elizabeth B.
    Vail, Mrs. Arvilla Z.
    Wilkes, John H.
    Wilmuth, Mrs. Lydia P.
    Zent, Miss Ida M.


    Bartlett, Mrs. Helen A.
    Black, Mrs. Addie L.
    Blake, Miss Ellen M.
    Blakeway, Miss Ada M. A.
    Blakeway, Miss Ella R. M.
    Brophy, Dennis P.
    Brown, Mrs. Mary L. S.
    Burpee, Miss Minnie L.
    Chamberlain, Miss Orra N.
    Colby, Mrs. Mary A.
    Conley, Mrs. V. C. M.
    Day, Miss Clara C.
    Douglass, Miss Alberta N.
    Dubois, Mrs. Sarah T.
    Dunn, Mrs. Frances L.
    Earle, Clarence A.
    Eastburn, Mrs. Dora M.
    Enoch, Miss Emma A.
    Fairbanks, John
    Fairbanks, Mrs. Carrie H.
    Gay, Miss Hannah P.
    Gregory, Mrs. Sue F.
    Gridley, Mrs. Annah B.
    Gunn, Miss Jessie
    Hanaford, Mrs. Melvina
    Hart, Mrs. Ida B.
    Hart, Samuel R.
    Harvey, Mrs. Lucia M.
    Hayes, Mrs. Dr. R. F.
    Holmes, Mrs. Melanie G.
    Kay, Mrs. Ella M.
    Leal, Miss Sarah M.
    Lobaugh, Mrs. Sarah C.
    Mayo, Miss Carrie P.
    McMurray, Miss Mary E.
    McReynolds, Mrs. Abbie M.
    McSween, Mrs. Helen
    Mitchell, Walter
    Moir, Mrs. Jessie G.
    Moore, Mrs. Stata M.
    Norris, Mrs. Nellie R.
    Overman, Miss Myra
    Palmer, Mrs. Mary E.
    Pells, Miss Louise
    Pickering, Mrs. Ida O.
    Price, Miss Jennie
    Rea, Mrs. Lucia G.
    Read, Mrs. Frank
    Rinaker, Mrs. Clarissa K.
    Robinson, Miss Bessie M.
    Rowland, Mrs. Hattie W.
    Scott, Miss Kate M.
    Scoggin, Miss Libbie
    Spear, Mrs. Mary E.
    Sprouse, Miss Jennie G.
    Swanzey, Miss Clara J.
    Tunnicliff, Mrs. Sarah A.
    Turnbull, Mrs. Lizzie E.
    Vining, Mrs. Letty W.
    Walker, Mrs. D. T.
    Wallace, Mrs. J. F.
    Willey, Mrs. Agnes H. C.


    Alford, Miss Caroline P.
    Barlow, Mrs. Hannah M.
    Barrows, Mrs. Hattie A.
    Barrows, Mrs. Agnes C.
    Bedell, Mrs. Mary B.
    Benjamin, Miss Lillian
    Benjamin, Miss Anna
    Benjamin, Mrs. M.
    Borden, Miss Harriet E.
    Brown, Miss Kate
    Brown, Miss M. Viola
    Chapman, Mrs. Olivia E.
    Churchill, Miss Frances A.
    Clark, Mrs. Ettie A.
    Clay, Mrs. Hattie E.
    Coe, Miss Lovisa M.
    Cooley, Miss Mary L.
    Cooley, Miss Lottie I.
    Coville, Mrs. Mary E. H.
    Field, Miss Dencie L.
    Flewelling, Mrs. F. E.
    Frost, Mrs. Nellie J.
    Furman, Mrs. Libbie T.
    Gannon, Joseph M.
    Goodyear, Mrs. Emma J.
    Hill, Frank J.
    Hills, Mrs. Mary M.
    Holmes, Mrs. E. F.
    Hoover, Miss Cora J.
    Hough, Mrs. Tena W.
    House, Dr. Robert B.
    Johnston, Miss Janet H.
    Kent, Mrs. Clara E.
    Lathrop, Mrs. Chas. A.
    Lilley, Miss Mary A.
    Lincoln, Charles A.
    Lincoln, Mrs. M. J.
    Love, Miss Sara
    Lutze, Mrs. Mary M.
    McCartney, Mrs. F.
    McDonald, Miss Anna
    McElwee, the Rev. Samuel J.
    McElwee, Mrs. Anna B.
    Mellen, Miss Ellen E.
    Owen, Miss Lucy A.
    Pack, Miss Josephine
    Paton, Mrs. Sarah B.
    Pearce, Miss Abbie
    Peacock, Miss Frances E.
    Perrin, Mrs. Henry W.
    Pickell, Mrs. C. W.
    Queal, Miss Helen
    Ramsay, Mrs. W. W.
    Roe, Miss Genevieve B.
    Russell, Miss Nellie J.
    Sinclair, Miss Jane S.
    Smith, Miss Lora A.
    Spangler, Mrs. W. P.
    St. John, Mrs. Etta
    Stocum, Mrs. C. W.
    Switzer, Mrs. Anna M. L.
    Van Fleet, Miss Mary E.
    Van Slyke, Miss Julia
    Wilcox, Mrs. Martha H.
    Wilks, Mrs. Emily M.
    Wolf, Miss Anna E.
    Wilcox, Joshua L.


    Algard, Mrs. Phebe M.
    Baker, Miss Eva J.
    Bovee, Mrs. Victoria
    Chase, Miss Hattie
    Coleman, Mrs. Edwin
    Dougherty, Miss Nettie M.
    Gates, Miss Laura
    Grannis, Mrs. E. H.
    Holden, Mrs. Hattie L.
    Hooley, Miss Emma E.
    Kennedy, Miss Catherine
    Kutchin, Mrs. Hattie S.
    Lucas, Miss Stella
    McLean, Mrs. M. F. K.
    Oddy, Mrs. Lydia A.
    Shepard, Mrs. Mary S.
    Shumway, Mrs. Clara E. C.
    Steele, the Rev. John
    Wheeler, the Rev. Bert E.
    Wick, Gustave


    Banta, Mrs. Lillie E.
    Bell, the Rev. William E.
    Benedict, Miss Ella G.
    Bennett, Mrs. Lizzie
    Brindell, Mrs. Anna R.
    Brown, the Rev. Henry
    Buckley, Miss Eunice L.
    Clarke, Mrs. Kate F.
    Cort, the Rev. William C.
    Cutter, Miss Valona J.
    Day, Mrs. Eliza C.
    Gaylord, Mrs. Mary J. L.
    Greene, Miss Hattie
    Harvey, Miss Carrie L.
    Hooley, Miss Annie J.
    Hooley, Miss Mattie F.
    Huston, Mrs. Mary S.
    Hyde, Miss Maie E.
    Jones, Mrs. R. D.
    Keen, Mrs. Mary T.
    Key, Mrs. Sarah
    Kellum, Miss Alma J.
    Louthan, Mrs. Florence A.
    Lukens, Miss Lucie E.
    Mack, Miss May
    McCarn, Mrs. Carrie E.
    McCartney, Mrs. Lura J.
    McMeans, Miss Mattie
    Melvill, Mrs. Martha E.
    Millard, Miss Nellie P.
    Nagel, Mrs. Sadie E.
    Palmer, Miss Nirma E.
    Pollock, Miss Annie L.
    Ritchey, Mrs. Ella L.
    Robinson, Mrs. Marianna W.
    Robinson, Mrs. M. E.
    Scales, Miss Lena F.
    Snyder, Mrs. D. B.
    Tallman, Mrs. Catharine M.
    Wadsworth, Mrs. Mary B.
    Wegener, Miss Alice
    Wilcox, Miss Rhoda M.


    Albin, Miss Emma C.
    Allen, Mrs. N. L.
    Bennett, Alfred
    Exly, the Rev. Frank
    Miller, Charles W.
    Parker, George A.
    Russell, Miss Sarah F.
    Watson, Miss Eva
    Wayman, the Rev. John
    Sabin, L. Willis.


    Brannan, Mrs. Carrie M.
    Cole, Miss Jennie
    Jerman, Mrs. Sara M.
    Mendenhall, Miss Minnie E.
    Scofield, Miss Persis E.
    Stone, Mrs. J. W.
    Taylor, Mrs. C. W.
    Terwilligar, the Rv. Michael D.
    Terwilligar, Mrs. Hester A.
    Viall, Mrs. Florence M.

_Dakota Territory._

    Garner, Jacob A.
    Hoffman, Miss Lizzie C.
    Moyer, Mrs. S. J.
    Moyer, Sanford J.
    Potter, Mrs. V. A.
    Smith, Miss Maria T.
    Squier, Mrs. Cora M.
    Yost, Mrs. Julie H.


    Anderson, Mrs. Deborah L.
    Dada, the Rev. William B.
    Folden, the Rev. Andrew T.
    Hamlin, Miss Lou E.
    Howe, Miss Annette A.
    Lemon, Mrs. Nora H.
    Martin, Miss Nellie
    Parrotte, Mrs. Mary E.
    Perry, Miss Mary S.
    Sargent, Mrs. Iola N.
    Smith, Miss Lucy E.
    Smith, the Rev. Charles L.
    Warren, Miss Mary E.
    Whitney, Miss Clara


    Leete, Benjamin F.
    Simpson, Mrs. Elda A.


    Blythe, Mrs. Julia H.
    Conklin, Isaac J.
    Dudley, Mrs. Carrie A.
    Elliott, Mrs. Mary E.
    McFarland, Mrs. Tillie S.
    Moll, Miss Eva M.
    Moss, Mrs. Laura S.
    Parker, Mrs. W. F.
    Patrick, Miss Emma M.
    Reed, Mrs. Emily G.
    Smith, Fayette A.
    Torrington, Mrs. Mary M.
    Wallace, Miss Jennie
    Weightman, Mrs. Annie M.


    Crawford, Hugh C.
    Freeman, Mrs. Lillie S.
    Layton, Mrs. Mary E.
    Lovejoy, Miss Jennie G.
    McGonigal, Mrs. E. Belle
    Reaugh, Mrs. Lottie E.


    Yarington, Miss Stella

_Washington Territory._

    Ames, Mrs. Jennie P.
    Barrow, Mrs. M. R.
    Horton, Dexter
    Pratt, William G.


    Churchill, Frank H.
    Grider, Mrs. Mary A.
    Kern, Mrs. Sarah M. K.


    Anderson, Dr. C. L.
    Bailey, Mrs. C. P.
    Barber, Mrs. Emma F.
    Baright, Mrs. Frances E.
    Blake, Miss Alice S.
    Brothers, Miss Carrie R.
    Calhoun, Miss Clementine H.
    Call, Miss Mattie C.
    Call, Miss Mary A.
    Carter, Miss Lou A.
    Dawson, Mrs. Eloise J.
    Drum, Mrs. Mary L.
    Dryden, Mrs. S. Helen
    Eckley, Emma
    Field, Mrs. Mary H.
    Franklin, Mrs. Belle O.
    Frazee, Miss H. M.
    Haight, Mrs. Elvira E.
    Hammond, Miss Hulda A.
    Harrison, Miss Elbertina C.
    Hathaway, Mrs. Alice V.
    Hesser, Mrs. Mary E.
    Mantz, Mrs. E. F.
    McKelvy, the Rev. Charles
    Mock, Miss Clara E.
    Nusbaum, Mrs. Lucretia J.
    Osgood, Miss Jennie
    Phillips, Mrs. Hattie W.
    Read, William E.
    Rogers, William
    Selby, Miss Mattie K. A.
    Shafter, Mrs. Helen S.
    Shattuck, Mrs. E. M.
    Shuey, Mrs. Lillian H.
    Shuey, M. M.
    Thomas, Mrs. Flora M.
    Thomasson, Mrs. Martha E.
    Warring, Hattie B.
    White, Miss Nellie F.
    Whitney, Mrs. Julia A.
    Wilcox, Miss Gussie M.
    Wilson, Miss Mary E.


    Beer, Mrs. Rachel M. L.
    Beswick, Miss Emma
    Coleman, Mrs. Caroline
    Collins, John R.
    Courtright, Mrs. Gertrude S.
    Curry, Mrs. Catharine
    Dudman, Miss Sarah A.
    Dunspaugh, Mrs. Leonora C.
    Farquhar, Miss Mary L.
    Freeland, Mrs. Andrew
    Griffith, Mrs. Lucinda P.
    Gurney, Edward, Jr.
    Gurney, Mrs. Mary F.
    Henderson, Miss Frances M.
    Henderson, the Rev. William
    Henderson, Miss Jennie
    Hooper, Mrs. H. T.
    Horsey, Miss Maria
    Horsey, Miss Heppie
    Jackson, Miss Eliza J.
    James, David
    Kerr, Mrs. Jennie
    Langlois, Miss Ida M.
    Leake, Miss Annie
    Lemon, Miss Emily J.
    Longard, Charles H.
    Lucas, Mrs. Hattie J.
    McDonald, the Rev. C. D.
    Millar, James E.
    Murray, Mrs. Almey J.
    Murray, Dr. Sydney S.
    Orr, William H.
    Platt, Mrs. Harriet L.
    Scott, the Rev. Charles T.
    Strickland, John R.
    Thurlow, Mrs. Isaac E.
    Watson, Miss Georgiana
    Woodside, Mrs. Jane

_Hawaiian Islands._

    Coleman, Mrs. Hattie A.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 252, “probation” changed to “promotion” (that of dignity and

Page 273, “110.3” changed to “110.3 per cent.” (is equivalent to 110.3
per cent. of)

Page 292, “Durengo” changed to “Durango” (From Colorado—Durango—comes)

Page 305, “Episopal” changed to “Episcopal” (the Methodist Episcopal

Page 306, “Informa-” changed to “Information” (Information may be

Page 309, “Illtnois” changed to “Illinois” (section heading: Illinois.)

Page 310, “Owen, Miss Lucy A.” moved to correct place in alphabetical
list: from between Peacock and Perrin, to between Mellen and Pack.

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