By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII ]

Look for this book on Amazon

We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: The Chautauquan, Vol. 05, May 1885, No. 8
Author: Circle, Scientific, Literary, The Chautauquan
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "The Chautauquan, Vol. 05, May 1885, No. 8" ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.

                            THE CHAUTAUQUAN.


                   VOL. V.      MAY, 1885.      No. 8.

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.

    English as a Universal Language                      435
    Sunday Readings
        [_May 3_]                                        438
        [_May 10_]                                       438
        [_May 17_]                                       438
        [_May 24_]                                       439
        [_May 31_]                                       439
    Home Studies in Chemistry and Physics
        Physics of Earth                                 441
    The Eyes Busy on Things About Us                     443
    Easy Lessons in Animal Biology
        Chapter II.—Sub-Kingdom VII.—Articulata          445
    How to Win
        Chapter III.                                     450
    The Life of Minerals                                 453
    The Machinery of our Foreign Service                 455
    Madura and its Pagoda                                458
    Geography of the Heavens for May                     460
    The Homelike House
        Chapter IV.—The Bedroom                          461
    “Consider the Lilies”                                463
    A Bird’s Eye View of Forestry                        464
    Government Employment for Women                      467
    The Art of Fish Culture
        Part II.                                         470
    Honesty in the C. L. S. C.                           473
    Outline and Programs                                 474
    Local Circles                                        475
    The C. L. S. C. Classes                              481
    Editor’s Outlook                                     483
    Editor’s Note-Book                                   486
    C. L. S. C. Notes on Required Readings for May       488
    Talk About Books                                     491
    Chautauqua, 1885                                     493
    The Florida Chautauqua                               496
    Special Notes                                        496




At the beginning of this study we must determine as clearly as possible
the meaning attached to the word _universal_ when it is applied to a
language. For this purpose, the word is employed in a restricted sense.
It is not meant that men are returning to the conditions of speech which
prevailed before the building of Babel. To that condition men may or may
not return in some far off century; so far as we can judge, that reunion
of mankind is very distant. Max Müller[1] says that 900 languages are
spoken by the human race; and if dialects are added the number may be
three or four times as large. Most of our race speak dialects having no
literature, and it is found to be a very slow task to substitute the
language of a nation for the dialects of its people. Classical Greek
was probably spoken by only a few of the Greeks. We know that the Latin
of Cicero was not, not even in Rome, the speech of the people. At this
day more than a score of dialects are spoken in Italy, and the majority
of the population of that Peninsula can neither speak nor understand
Italian. Public education and other unifying influences make very little
progress against the diversity of speech in the various provinces.
An Italian gentleman is bred in a nurse’s language (the dialect) and
educated in Italian. He speaks two tongues, dialect and Italian; his
servants speak but one, and that is the dialect. To break up the power
of the nurse, and of the local influences which she represents, is a
Herculean task which must be accomplished in every country except the
United States, the Canadas, and a part of Great Britain, before mankind
will speak _only_ 900 tongues; the time required to reduce nine hundred
to one can only be guessed at. If the problem of a universal language
were how to provide a common language to be exclusively used by all men,
this problem would be one for pure speculation, in the solving of which
the imagination would be more active than the reason.

There is another sense in which scholars speak of a universal language.
(1) There has always been in our Aryan[2] tribe a leading literary
language. Once it was Sanskrit;[3] perhaps at a later time it was
Persian; later it was Greek; later it was Latin. This Aryan tribe of ours
has made the greater part of the history of the last 3,000 years; to-day
it is the history-making and literature-making tribe. Great tracts of
older history—Babylonian, Arabian, Egyptian—lie outside of the Aryan
movements; but Persian, Greek, Roman, German, French, Spanish, English
and American history lie in the Aryan line. Now, then, within this line
some one Aryan language has always enjoyed a literary predominance. (2)
For other than literary purposes, some one of our family of languages has
at one time or another had an extended currency. For something like two
centuries French, for example, has been the language of diplomacy. We are
probably passing out of a period which has lasted for half a century,
of the predominance of German as a language of research, especially of
metaphysical and grammatical study. These examples will suffice to show
what is meant by our problem. In trade and practical invention English
is, in this modified sense, a universal language. What I undertake to
measure is this: the probability that, at a not distant time, English
will be universal in more senses (used by people of many countries for
more purposes) than any other Aryan language was ever before used.
Some careful observers believe that this is the present position of
the language—that it is now universal to an extent quite beyond all
precedent. I think that as a literary, political and commercial language,
English has a fair prospect of universal use within the Aryan tribe, and
a better prospect than any other tongue of coming into use for these
purposes all over the globe.

1. The mere arraying of numbers carries with it a kind of presumption
in favor of English. Did 5,000,000 ever at one time use either classic
Greek or the Hellenic form of that speech? I seriously doubt that at any
time 5,000,000 of people could have understood each other in any one form
of that tongue. Did ever at any one time 15,000,000 of people speak the
Latin of our classic authors? I doubt it. Turn to English, and we find
not less than 110,000,000 of people speaking it at the present time. And
this comparison is made much stronger when we remember that, one hundred
years ago, our number did not probably exceed fifteen millions. Our vast
growth is related to forces and conditions still existing, and now giving
us an accelerating progress in numbers. I shall return to these forces
and conditions in a later paragraph. Looking at our competitors, we see
that the Germans come next to us, with probably not more than 45,000,000.
The German empire counts 45,000,000, and there are 5,000,000, perhaps,
of Austrian Germans; but the empire envelops millions of non-Germans.
They sometimes zealously claim the Low Dutch; but we could claim them for
English with better right. Next come the French with 37,000,000, about
one third only of our strength. I think it fair for these purposes to
count the populations under the dominion of the several tongues. French,
English and German are spoken all over the world. Among the three runs
the competition for the first place in the Aryan tribe. I do not commit
the folly of making race lines and speech lines the same; but it is a
convenient mode of describing the field of this competition as that of
the Aryan race, although there have been so many fusions of tribes that
perhaps there is no Aryan race at this late day.

2. Another presumption in favor of our language arises from the history
of the competition for the first place which has gone on since the rise
of the modern European nations. After the Dark Ages,[4] Italian first
came to prominence as a polished literary tongue. Its poets converted a
dialect into a language, and from Italian literature our Chaucer, our
Shakspere, and even our Milton drew inspiration as well as materials for
English poetry. As a literary language, Italian was for two centuries a
universal language. Spain had the next opportunity for the primacy. Her
flag was first planted on the outposts of this continent; the conquests
of her kings at one moment placed Europe and America in her hands. Her
poets and philosophers made her language as honorable in literature as
her sailors and soldiers made it in discovery and conquest. If Spain had
retained her grasp on the Mississippi valley and on Mexico and South
America, she, and not we, would now be supreme on this continent; and
Spanish, not English, would be the dominant speech of North America.
But Spain may be said to have retired voluntarily from the primacy of
the Aryan tribe; a great language and a great literature descended to
generations of Spaniards who had ceased to be great. Next, the French
language took the lead. During the eighteenth century the language of
France was undoubtedly the leading Aryan tongue. Since the beginning of
this century German has come strongly into the competition, and English
has gradually attained a preponderance in numbers over our two great

3. A third presumption in our favor arises from the diversity of great
functions which English fills. It is a political, a literary, a common,
and a commercial speech. In this brief space I can dwell only on the
fact that it is, in a peculiar sense, a political language. The English
race has led the way towards modern liberty and towards the political
institutions and habits which are the safeguards of freedom. English
words even are in use among the continental nations to describe political
things which they have borrowed from us. The word _meeting_ is a good
example. But the mere diffusion of political terms means comparatively
little. The only really great universal language of the past was the
language of Rome, and its preëminence grew from its political character.
There are in modern Europe two sets of political ideas and juridical
institutions; one is Roman, and the other is English; and the two face
each other in the modern world, and are really in silent but effective
competition with each other. Outside of England, Europe is Roman except
as it has been made English. The continental nations have parliaments
which are pale copies of the vigorous legislative bodies which cover the
English-speaking world. Rome is mighty yet, for the juridical systems of
the continent of Europe have their foundations in the Roman civil law.
The greatness of Latin did not arise from the genius of the Roman poets
and orators. It laid its vigorous hand on human society, and in some sort
it is still administering civil society. English has a political and a
judicial system of its own, and these systems are conquering mankind.
The adoption of the parliament and the trial by jury by continental
nations prove the high value of the English inventions in government and
law. The French and the German are neither of them political languages.
French is the language of a nation which will long command the respect of
mankind; but its language counts for nothing in its political structure.
German is the language of a great people who make good citizens, but have
until recently shown little capacity for political affairs, and have yet
to make a great national record. The genius of Bismarck has created a
great empire out of a great people; but it remains to be seen whether
any aggressive political ideas are to be born of this German empire. The
English political system is aggressive. Englishmen are nation-builders;
a shipload of them cast upon a desert island would form a government as
instinctively and as easily as they would build themselves houses. In
this respect English is like Latin; it is the language of a distinct,
original political system, whose obvious advantages are enticing men to
copy it all over the world.

4. Another presumption in favor of our speech arises from certain
peculiarities of its grammar and of its enunciation. In its grammar,
it has cast off more of the inflexional burdens than either of its
competitors. Both of them retain the fictitious distinction of genders by
terminations, and they are in other respects weighted with inflexional
incumbrances. English has, unfortunately, a small inheritance of strong
nouns and verbs; but it is far simpler in its grammar than either French
or German. And it is not by any means a small matter that the grammarian
has never obtained the control of the language. In this respect the
Germans enjoy more freedom than the French; but in neither language is
the grammarian so little powerful as he is among us. The reason is that
English is spoken for all purposes by all our people. I do not forget the
English dialects as an exception; but they are a very small exception in
contrast with the fact that neither literary French nor literary German
are used by the mass of either people for all purposes. There is “bad
German” for daily life, and there is dialect French for the mass of
Frenchmen outside of the great towns. In our language many efforts have
been made to fix precise rules which would please the grammarian and
render good English difficult, and therefore not common. These efforts
have not prevented the progress of English toward simplicity, and the
vigor which simplicity imparts; and the result is that children and
foreigners readily learn and use the language which is employed in our
books and periodicals. By flouting the grammarian we have dethroned the
nurse, and have not one language for the home and another for the book.

The enunciation of English is characterized by a simplicity which has not
been enjoyed by any other great language. The English word has but one
vocal qualification, and that is the accent on a single syllable. And
such is the simplicity of this accent that it may be heavy or light, and
still the word is intelligible. The vowels all tend to a nearly common
form in most situations; and if the accent be in the right place the word
is usually understood. There are, of course, many exceptions, such as
an Italian _a_ at the end of many words; but though one says _feyther_,
_faather_, or _fauther_, we still know what he means. The force of this
consideration will best appear by contrast. We do not know how classic
Greek was enunciated; but we have reason to suppose that the vocalization
was as elaborate and artificial as the music of light opera. It was, of
course, easily spoken after one had learned it, but the learning of it
must have been a great task for a foreigner. Latin was less elaborately
artificial, but there was doubtless an intonation of the Latin sentence,
and a marking of the varying lengths of vowels; and these features must
have made good Latin difficult and rare. We know that Italian spreads
slowly throughout Italy under a system of public instruction, and that it
defies the foreigner’s industry and patience, on account of the demand
it makes for well defined vowels and a certain sentence rhythm. French is
hardly less, if at all less difficult, because it makes similar demands
upon the attention and vocal skill of the speaker. A good illustration
of all this is found in the fact that the English ear is pleased, while
the French and Italian ears are displeased by a “brogue,” or a variation
of the position of a word in a sentence. We all like to hear foreigners
speak our tongue, precisely because they set it to a new music and show
us the range of its grammatical simplicity. There is doubtless a _best_
arrangement of the words in any English sentence. If the grammarians had
had their way, this best arrangement would have become the only proper
arrangement. The fact that we allow the foreigner to put our words into
a different order than the best, or even the second best—and are still
pleased with his work—shows, I think, that English has in its vocal and
syntactical systems a simplicity and a flexibility which adapt it to
universal use.

5. There is also a presumption in favor of English which arises from
its history and from certain results of that history. It was originally
Teutonic, and made its first alliance with Scandinavian, and so by
swallowing up the speech of “the Danes” it came to represent the northern
branch of the Aryan race with more breadth than High German shows. Then
came the Norman Conquest, by which other “Danes” who had conquered
Normandy and adopted the French language became the masters of England.
The contest between French and English ended as that between Scandinavian
and English had ended—English swallowed French. This event gave us our
composite English, and gave the world a language in which the northern
and southern streams of Aryan speech mingle their waters and collect
their far-gathered wealth. Ours is a composite and compromise speech.
In the Danish and Norman struggles, our tongue proved its tenacity,
its “holdfast.” In each struggle the conqueror adopted the dialect of
the conquered. But in these conflicts, English showed itself to be not
only stubbornly vital, but also remarkably charitable and catholic.
It remained English, but it gave liberal hospitality to Danish and
French words. And ever since, it has been a great borrower of foreign
words. It is in this respect utterly unlike French, which will hardly
tolerate even a foreign name, but translates these names whenever it
is possible. I have sometimes wondered whether our speech might not
become a world-speech by mere swallowing of the vocabularies of other
languages. It is, of course, not a subject for rational conjecture; but
neither would that great feast of French words have been a rational
forecast in the eleventh century. We have borrowed from all the great
tongues of our tribe, and from many other great and small dialects.
We have always been borrowing; we borrow every year. It would be an
entertaining and not unprofitable task to collect these harvests of the
last fifty years. The readiness with which we naturalize a foreign word
has made many a grammarian sick of his profession; but borrowing words
is an English propensity which nothing can “reform” out of us. And this
catholicity looks in several ways toward universality. Neither of our
competitors has any corresponding merit. French is a grand speech, but
it will not tolerate foreign words. German is a grand speech; but it is
German, and nothing else, except as it has been infiltrated with literary
and judicial Latin. I must pass hurriedly over some other important
presumptions in our favor.

6. The primacy in commerce is freely conceded to our tongue. For such
purposes it is spoken in all the great seaports of the world. In addition
to this trade use, we may note that a great variety of practical
inventions carry their English names and terms around the world.

7. We also have the great reading public of the world. Germans read; but
their 45,000,000 do not consume more than one eighth as much literary
food as England and America, the Canadas and Australia. The English
literature market is not only the greatest in the world—exceeding in one
year all the literary produce of antiquity which has come down to us—but
it is a market which grows rapidly. If a German or a Frenchman wishes to
reach the largest number of minds, he must write in the English language.
We have made more than half the fame of German authors by translating
their works into our tongue. Some of the German authors have been wise
enough to learn and to use our speech in their books.

8. French and German each had a special advantage over English fifty
years ago. Frenchmen have long had a rare power of popularizing
knowledge—a power of which they have made much less use than would have
been expected. French is very rich in the power of accurate and plain
statement of scientific truth. This power Englishmen have been for some
time borrowing, and the fruits of such copying appears in the good fame
and liberal incomes of our Huxleys and Proctors. There is no reason to
doubt that we shall overtake the French in this path of progress; for we
have an inexhaustible demand for popularizations of science. Thirty years
ago Germans had a primacy in research. They made the world come to their
universities to study and master the German _method_ in investigation.
I believe that, though this German primacy still exists, it has nearly
reached its end. English students have not gone in droves to Germany to
come back empty handed. Many of them have conquered the German method and
transferred it to their own home and tongue.

9. France is already out of the race. She has but thirty-seven millions,
and grows only at a snail’s pace. A Frenchman has recently described the
stationary condition of his people in the _Révue des deux Mondes_ in
stronger terms than I could use. German is our only serious rival for
the primacy. Is it a serious rivalry? The Germans are a prolific race.
They lose millions by emigration, and still increase to an extent which
makes all Frenchmen sad. But how shall forty-five millions shut up in
old Europe overtake the one hundred and ten millions who have the great
open fields of the world? If North America were as thickly populated as
Germany we should count our hosts as three or four hundred millions.
They have room at home; but we have vastly more room. In a century our
North American English population will number 250,000,000. The rest of
the English speaking world can hardly fail to grow enough to make our
grand total 400,000,000. The next doubling of our tribe—not more than
one hundred and fifty years from now—would put us so far in front of all
competition that no language would contest the primacy with us. Besides,
we have great possibilities of gains outside of our own tribes. South
America is more and more under the influence of English and American
ideas; the East is being anglicised by the English dominion in India,
and by American and English missionary schools. Africa is an open
question; but a vast English speaking population on the Dark Continent is
a far more probable addition to our numbers than this American-English
population was in 1492, or even in 1700.

Such seems to be the outlook. In a recent letter forecasting the
English-speaking primacy of the world, Mr. Gladstone said: “Mr. Barham
Zincke, no incompetent calculator, reckons that the English-speaking
peoples of the world one hundred years hence will probably count a
thousand millions.… A century back I suppose they were not much, if at
all, beyond fifteen millions.” This primacy, he adds, “would demand no
propaganda, no superlative ingenuity or effort; it ought to be an orderly
and natural growth.… To gain it will need no preterhuman strength; to
miss it will require some portentous degeneracy.” I have made much more
modest estimates than those quoted by Mr. Gladstone. I attach most
importance to the political value of English and the nation-building
instinct of our tribe. The great rush forward from fifteen to one hundred
and ten millions _in a century_ is a result of our political facility.



[_May 3._]

The heart here, the Father yonder, and the universe of man and matter as
the meeting place between them, is the whole scope and the whole poetry
of the Sermon on the Mount. The preacher shears off all the superfluities
and externals of worship and of action, that he may show, in its naked
simplicity, the communion which takes place between the heart as
worshiper and God as hearer. The righteousness he inculcates must exceed
that “of the Scribes and the Pharisees.” The man who hates his brother,
or calls him “Raca,” is a murderer in deed.… Oaths are but big sounds;
the inner feelings are better represented by “yea, yea, nay, nay.” That
love which resides within will walk through the world as men walk through
a gallery of pictures, loving and admiring, and expecting no return. The
giving of alms must be secret. The sweetest prayer will be solitary and
short. One must fast, too, as if he fasted not. The enduring treasures
must be laid up within. Righteousness must be sought before, and as
inclusive of all things; life is more precious than all the means of it.
The examination and correction of faults must begin at home. Prayer,
if issuing from the heart, is all powerful. The essence of the law and
the prophets lies in doing to others as we would have others do to us.
Having neglected the inner life, the majority have gone to ruin, even
while following fully and devotedly external forms of faith and worship.
The heart must, at the same time, be known by its fruits. It is only the
good worker that shall enter the heavenly kingdom. These truths, in fine,
acted upon, these precepts from the Mount, heard and kept—become a rock
of absolute safety, while all beside is sand now, and sea hereafter.

Such is, in substance, this sermon. It includes unconsciously all
theology and all morals, and is invested, besides, with the beauty of
imagery—theology, for what do we know, or can we ever know, of God, but
that he is “our Father in heaven,” that he accepts our heart worship,
forgives our debts, and hears our earnest prayers—morals, for all sin
lies in selfishness, all virtue lies in losing our petty identity in
the great river of the species, which flows into the ocean of God; and
as to imagery, how many natural objects—the salt of the sea, the lilies
of the valley, the thorns of the wilderness, the trees of the field,
the hairs of the head, the rocks of the mountain, and the sand of the
seashore—combine to explain and beautify the deep lessons conveyed!
Here is, verily, the model—long sought elsewhere in vain—of a “perfect
sermon,” which ought to speak of God and of man in words and figures
borrowed from that beautiful creation, which lies between, which
adumbrates the former to the latter, and enables the latter to glorify at
once the works and the author.—_Gilfillan._[1]

[_May 10._]

The Hebrew poet was nothing if not sacred. To him the poetical and
the religious were almost the same. Song was the form instinctively
assumed by all the higher moods of his worship. He was not surprised
into religious emotion and poetry by the influence of circumstances,
nor stung into it by the pressure of remorse.… Religion was with him a
habitual feeling, and from the joy or the agony of that feeling poetry
broke out irrepressibly. To him, the question, “Are you in a religious
mood to-day?” had been as absurd as “Are you alive to-day?” for all his
moods— … whether wretched as the penitence of David, or triumphant as the
rapture of Isaiah—were tinged with the religious element. From God he
sank, or up to him he soared. The grand theocracy around ruled all the
soul and all the song of the bard. Wherever he stood, under the silent
starry canopy, or in the congregation of the faithful—musing in solitary
spots, or smiting, with high, hot, rebounding hand, the loud cymbal—his
feeling was, “How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the
house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” In him, surrounded by
sacred influences, haunted by sacred recollections, moving through a holy
land, and overhung by a heavenly presence, religion became a passion, a
patriotism, and a poetry. Hence the sacred song of the Hebrews stands
alone, and hence we may draw the deduction that its equal we shall never
see again, till again religion outshine the earth with an atmosphere as
it then enshrined Palestine—till poets, not only as the organs of their
personal belief, but of the general sentiment around them, have become
the high priests in a vast sanctuary, where all shall be worshipers,
because all is felt to be divine. How this high and solemn reference to
the Supreme Intelligence and Great Whole comes forth in all the varied
forms of Hebrew poetry! Is it the pastoral? The Lord is the shepherd.
Is it elegy? It bewails his absence. Is it ode? It cries aloud for his
return, or shouts his praise. Is it the historical ballad? It recounts
his deeds. Is it the penitential psalm? Its climax is, “Against _thee_
only have I sinned.” Is it the didactic poem? Running down through the
world, like a scythed chariot, and hewing down before it all things as
vanity, it clears the way to the final conclusion, “Fear God, and keep
his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” Is it a burden,
“tossed as from a midnight mountain, by the hand of lonely seer, toward
the lands of Egypt and Babylon?” It is the burden of the Lord; his the
handful of devouring fire flung by the fierce prophet. Is it apologue, or
emblem? God’s meaning lies in the hollow of the parable; God’s eye glares
in the “terrible crystal” over the rushing wheels. Even the love-canticle
seems to rise above itself, and behold! a greater than Solomon, and a
fairer than his Egyptian spouse, are here. Thus, from their poetry,
as from a thousand mirrors, flashes back the one awful face of their

[_May 17._]

They say it is an ill mason that refuseth any stone; and there is no
knowledge but in a skillful hand serves, either positively as it is, or
else to illustrate some other knowledge, … because people by what they
understand, are best led to what they understand not.

But the chief and top of his knowledge consists in the Book of books,
the storehouse and magazine of life and comfort, THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.…
In the Scriptures he finds four things: precepts for life, doctrines for
knowledge, examples for illustration, and promises for comfort. These he
hath digested severally.

But for the understanding of these, the means he useth are: First, A HOLY
LIFE; remembering what his Master saith, that _if any do God’s will he
shall know of the doctrine_ (John viii), and assuring himself that wicked
men, however learned, do not know the Scriptures, because they feel them
not, and because they are not understood but with the same spirit that
writ them. The second means is PRAYER; which, if it be necessary even in
temporal things, how much more in things of another world, where _the
well is deep, and we have nothing_ of ourselves _to draw with_! Wherefore
he ever begins the reading of the Scripture with some short ejaculation,
as _Lord, pen mine eyes, that I may see the wondrous things of thy law_.
The third means is A DILIGENT COLLATION of Scripture with Scripture. For,
all truth being consonant to itself, and all being penned by one and the
self-same Spirit, it can not be, but that an industrious and judicious
comparing of place with place must be a singular help for the right
understanding of the Scriptures. To this may be added the consideration
of any text with the coherence thereof, touching what goes before and
what follows after; as also the scope of the Holy Ghost. When the
apostles would have called down fire from heaven, they were reproved as
ignorant of what spirit they were. For the law required one thing and the
gospel another; yet as diverse, not as repugnant; therefore the spirit
of both is to be considered and weighed. The fourth means are COMMENTERS
AND FATHERS, who have handled the places controverted; which the parson
by no means refuseth. As he doth not so study others as to neglect the
grace of God in himself, and what the Holy Spirit teacheth him; so doth
he assure himself, that God in all ages hath had his servants, to whom
he hath revealed his truth, as well as to him; and that as one country
doth not bear all things, that there may be a commerce, so neither hath
God opened, or will open, all to one, that there may be a traffic in
knowledge between the servants of God, for the planting both of love and
humility. Wherefore he hath one comment, at least, upon every book of
Scripture; and, plowing with this and his own meditations, he enters into
the secrets of God treasured in the holy Scripture.—_Herbert._[2]

[_May 24._]

It is exceedingly important, therefore, that all the Christian gifts
and graces should be possessed in purity of spirit, uncontaminated by
any unholy mixtures of an earthly nature. The mere suggestion that they
have merit of themselves and separate from the God who gives them, if
it be received with the least complacency, necessarily inflicts a deep
wound. They are accordingly held in purity of spirit, and with the divine
approbation, only when their tendency is to separate the soul from
everything inward and outward, considered as objects of complacency and
of spiritual rest, and to unite it more closely to God.… We do not find
the parent, who has that degree of affection for his child which may be
called entire or perfect love, making his love a distinct object of his
thoughts, and rejoicing in it as such a distinct object; that would not
be the genuine operation of perfect love. If his love is perfect, he has
no time and no disposition to think of anything but the beloved object
toward which his affections are directed. His love is so deep, so pure,
so fixed and centered upon one point, that the sight of self, and of his
own personal exercises, is lost. It ought to be thus in the feelings
which we exercise toward God; and undoubtedly such will be the result,
when the religious feeling has reached a certain degree of intensity;
that is to say, when the feeling is perfect, the mind is not occupied
with the feeling itself, but with the object of the feeling. The heart,
if we may so express it, seems to recede from us; it certainly does so
as an object of distinct contemplation; and the object of its affections
comes in and takes its place. O, the blessedness of the heart, that, free
from self and its secret and pernicious influences, sees nothing but God;
that recognizes, even in its highest gifts and graces, nothing but God;
that would rather be infinitely miserable with God, if it were possible,
than infinitely happy without him!

In connection with these remarks we are enabled to understand and
appreciate the state of mind which is described in some primitive writers
as a state of cessation from “reflex acts.” By REFLEX ACTS, as we employ
the phrase here, and as it appears to be employed by the writers referred
to, we mean those acts of the mind in which the soul turns inward upon
itself, and, ceasing for a time to regard the mere will of God as the
only good, takes a self-conscious satisfaction in its own exercises.
Such acts, when they are indulged in, stand directly in the way of the
highest results of the religious life. On the other hand, he who has
entirely ceased to put forth acts of this kind, and loves God to the
entire forgetfulness of self, losing sight even of his own exercises, in
consequence of being fully occupied with an infinitely higher object,
has reached the broad and calm position of spiritual rest, the region
of inward and abiding peace—a region where there is no noisy clamor, no
outcries and contests of the passions; no contrivances of prejudice,
interest, and ambition; no rebellious sighing and tears of the natural
spirit; but all is hushed and lost in the one deep conviction that there
is nothing good, nothing permanently true, nothing desirable—no, not
heaven itself—but pure and everlasting union with the will of God.—_Prof.

[_May 31._]

All science is simply a perception of the laws of God—a discovery of what
he designed when he spread out the heavens and gemmed the infinity of
space with its myriad of worlds. The laws of light are simply the power
with which the Creator invested it. All we can do is to find what he has
written on its wings. The law of magnetism is the subtle power and the
mode of action with which God has touched the loadstone. The laws of
astronomy, what are they but the thoughts of God, as he projected worlds
into space, and gave to them their orbits and their periods?… Of nature
in all its expanse, of all created powers, visible and invisible, hath
not God said, “All are yours?” Are we not “heirs of God and joint heirs
of Jesus Christ?”

I can accord the scientist nearly all he can claim, without in the
slightest degree affecting the foundations of my faith.… There are many
things which are claimed in evolution, to which I must give the verdict
of the Scotch jury, “Not proven.” Yet were I to admit them all, they
would not affect my faith in the wisdom and skill and power of the great
Father. I admire the skill of the watch-maker who produces an accurate
timepiece; but how much more would I admire his skill if he so made one
watch that it was capable not only of keeping time, but also of evolving
a series of watches, each keeping better time than that which produced
it, so that from the plainest, simplest form of a watch there should be
eventually evolved a magnificent chronometer, with jeweled holes, whose
time would not vary from the true time a second in a million of years!
If the great Creator created but a germ, but in that germ were all
possibilities of form, and motion, and magnitude, of atoms and of worlds,
with their laws of motion so impressed on each that it should take its
place in due time, my admiration for his wonderful skill would be only
enhanced.… These men who talk of evolution claim an infinity of time. I
ask, how long since this protoplasm developed into a turtle, the turtle
into a monkey, the monkey into a man? They admit there is no positive
record anywhere. Since human history began there is no instance of any
animal ascending in the scale of man. If at all, it must have been far
back in the distant ages. Then, I ask, why not give Christianity similar
time? She is changing the face of creation; she is transforming sinners
into saints, savages into enlightened men. She took them naked, rude and
uncultured, and has clothed, taught, and refined them. She has taken man
that bowed down to stocks and stones, and has elevated him until he uses
the world as a workshop, and all elements as his instruments, until he
feels that he is a son of God, and his vicegerent upon earth. Why shall
Christianity be called a failure, because it has not yet reached all the
sons of men, or transformed them into sons of science? Give her at least
as much time to change millions of savages into enlightened humanity,
millions of sinners into saints, as, according to their own asking, it
takes to change one species into another. We promise that the whole world
shall be brought to the foot of the cross before the evolutionist shall
find even a single monkey transformed into a man.—_Bishop Simpson._



Director of the Chautauqua School of Experimental Science.


Our earth, as a whole, may be compared to a ship sailing on a smooth
sea. Like the ship, it has its own motions with reference to other
objects, and is affected by forces exterior to itself. The ship feels the
influence of winds, currents and tides.

The earth also yields to forces outside of itself; to such an extent,
indeed, that philosophers have more than once been led to look for an
invisible power, which strangely affected it. For example, Adams[1] and
Leverrier[2] were led to prophesy the existence of the planet Neptune,
because the earth seemed to yield to the touch of some unknown body,
which was afterward discovered at the enormous distance of 2,746,271,000

The ship, in addition to its motion in regard to distant points and
susceptibility of being moved by outside forces, has its own peculiar
construction, a complex adjustment of planks, timbers, bolts, spars,
sails and ropes. It also has its inhabitants, living beings which move to
and fro, quite independent, for the time being, of all other parts of the
universe, save that on which they reside.

As it glides past some island we look from our cabin window and discover
that the _island_ seems to be moving by us in an opposite direction.
Even so, as our earth sweeps round its axis with a speed of a thousand
miles an hour, it seems motionless, while the starry spheres above appear
gliding westward.

In spite of the impassioned and reiterated exclamation of Galileo,
“It does move!” men would not believe it, until his experiment at the
leaning tower of Pisa; and the beautiful demonstration of Foucault[3]
from the dome of the Pantheon in Paris, proved beyond question the
earth’s rotation. Let us briefly outline these two experiments. If the
world has no motion, a heavy weight dropped from the top of a tall shaft
would strike exactly at its base. But if the earth were rotating, the
top of the tower must move faster than the base. The weight at the top
would have the same motion as the top of the shaft, and would keep it,
in falling, in accordance with a well known law, and consequently would
strike _beyond_ the base. The ball dropped by Galileo did thus strike.
Foucault argued: If the earth does _not_ rotate, a pendulum suspended so
that a needle fastened to its lowest point would trace a line in sand
sprinkled on the surface beneath, would forever move along the same line.
But if the earth is rotating, the needle will trace different lines on
the sand. If the pendulum was suspended at one of the poles, it would, in
twenty-four hours, trace a series of lines like the spokes of a carriage
wheel about the pole. Foucault showed that the needle _did_ trace varying
lines in the sand, therefore the earth moves. This experiment is repeated
annually at Paris, and I have performed it in the Amphitheater at

Sir Isaac Newton, as all the world knows, discovered the relation and
mutual dependence of all matter in the universe. The law of gravitation
has been called “Newton’s Darling Child.” It states, in brief, that every
body attracts every other directly as the mass, and inversely as the
square of the distance.

The sun has three hundred thousand times the amount of matter contained
in our earth; its power of attraction is therefore proportional. A man on
its surface would be crushed by his own weight, but even Brobdignag,[4]
or any other giant, could live comfortably on an asteroid. Indeed, he
would weigh so little _there_ that he could leap like the mountain goat.

As an illustration of the second part of the law: one body three times as
far away as another from the attracting power, will be held by a force
but one ninth as great. A body near the surface of the earth, or 4,000
miles from its center, will fall sixteen feet in a second. The moon is
sixty times further from the center of the earth than such a body. Newton
found that the moon fell toward the earth, or varied from a straight
line, 1.36 of sixteen feet in a second. Now, the square of sixty is
3,600, therefore the moon proves that the force of gravity decreases as
the square of the distance increases.

Nothing in nature is more beautiful than the adjustment of forces by
which our earth is kept forever revolving in its appropriate orbit.
In perihelion,[5] or its nearest approach to the sun, it is 3,000,000
miles nearer than in aphelion, when farthest away from it. Of course it
will follow from the law that the attraction of the sun would then be
greater. If there were no counteracting influence, there could be but
one result—the earth would fly into the sun and be consumed. The very
proximity of the earth to the sun, however, increases its speed, and
therefore its tendency to fly off on a tangent. Kepler[6] has expressed
this truth in one of his laws: “The radius vector (a line drawn from the
sun to the earth) passes over equal areas in equal times.” The average
speed of the earth in its orbit is 1,100 miles a minute—3,300 times that
of the fastest steamship—but it varies throughout its course, and how
wonderful that system of breaks by which its motion is regulated! Divine
wisdom alone could invent such a plan.


To the ordinary observer, our earth seems, in general, a flat surface,
here and there varied by hills and valleys. In reality it is a sphere,
with a curvature of eight inches to the mile. The equatorial diameter
is twenty-six and five-elevenths miles greater than the polar. The
irregularities of the earth’s surface are relatively far less than
they seem. Very thin letter paper, spread over a globe sixteen inches
in diameter, would by its thickness adequately represent the highest
mountain ranges. The greatest ocean depth is about equal to the height
of the highest mountain; we see by this that the earth is essentially a
smooth, round body.

Its shape is proven in four ways: First, two different navigators may
start from the same point, one sailing east and the other west, and
reach the same destination. Second, navigators have sailed around the
world, Magellan having first performed the task. Third, in moving toward
elevated objects, their upper portion first strikes the eye. Fourth, the
shadow of the earth, when it falls upon the moon, is round.

The enlargement of the equatorial diameter is supposed to be due to the
fact that the earth was once in a plastic state, and the centrifugal
force, which is directly proportioned to the rotating speed of a body,
caused the matter in the equatorial region to bulge. This action can
easily be shown by revolving rapidly a flexible steel hoop, or other
mobile substance. All bodies tend to revolve around their shortest axis.
A great variety of interesting experiments showing this can easily be
performed, some of which are indicated in an accompanying picture.

There is no magical power in the center of our earth, as some have
supposed from the fact that all bodies seek that point. Indeed, that is
the one spot where there is no attraction, and where all substances
would weigh nothing. The path described by a plummet, or any falling
body, is simply a resultant motion produced by _opposite_ particles of
the earth making it pass half way between their lines of attraction.
This will ordinarily be toward the center of the earth. As attraction of
gravity is in proportion to mass, a body suspended near a mountain will
be deflected toward it.

This has been shown by an experiment performed by Dr. Maskelyne,[7] near
Mt. Schehallien, in Wales. Upon suspending a light body on opposite sides
of this mountain, he observed that it swerved from the perpendicular
toward the mountain. The amount of this variation measured the attraction
of the mountain, as compared with the attraction of the earth. As the
geological structure of this eminence was known, it was not difficult to
compute its mass, and a comparison was made between it and the earth.
From this calculation the entire weight of the earth was obtained,
proving its specific gravity to be five times that of an equal bulk of
water. Dr. Cavendish[8] afterward arrived at precisely the same result by
experimenting with a pendulum.

[Illustration: A is a rotating machine; _a_ is a skein of thread; _á_ is
the skein rotated; _b_ is a chain; _c_ is an onion; _d_ is an apple; _e_
is a glass fish aquarium, one tenth full of water, and rotated. A stick,
hoop, shingle, or any such body suspended by a cord, when rapidly rotated
will rise and revolve around its shortest axis.]

Terrestrial gravity is constantly affecting the motion of bodies. Motion
is the act of changing place, and always indicates the presence of some
force; force or energy being that which tends to produce motion or rest.
Motion in curved lines is produced by two or more forces acting upon a
body, one of which must be constant. Example: A cannon ball is acted
upon by the sudden explosion of the powder, the resistance of air, and
the constant downward attraction of gravity. Nature seems to delight in
curved motion; the waves, the flight of birds, the running brooks, the
clouds, even the waving trees and grasses, all furnish illustrations of
this. A little reflection upon any such instances will show that they are
_usually_ produced by the united action of an instantaneous and constant

The center of gravity is that point around which the opposite particles
of a body balance each other. This point does not necessarily coincide
with center of figure or center of motion, the former of which is a point
equally distant from opposite parts of a regular body, while the latter
is a point in a substance around which it revolves.

[Illustration: _Ex._—A lead pencil poised on the finger. This experiment
can be varied in many ways, showing the nature of stable and unstable

If the sun and all the planets could be strung on a rod passing through
their centers, with the planets to the east, the center of gravity of
the solar system would be somewhere in the sun, east of its center. As
the planets assume various positions with reference to the sun, it must
follow that the center of gravity in our system must vary accordingly.

The same is true of objects on the earth. The center of gravity may
be elevated or depressed, moved to the right or left. We instinctively
adjust our bodies so that a perpendicular let fall from the center
of gravity will constantly fall within the base. The most surprising
exhibition of this power of automatic adjustment was seen in Blondin, in
his performances on the tight rope.

Stability in structures is usually secured by lowering the center of
gravity in one of two ways: either by broadening the base or by making it
of heavy materials.

_Specific_ gravity is the weight of a substance as compared with an equal
bulk of something taken as a standard; _water_ having been selected as
the standard for solids and liquids, and _air_ for gases.

Gravity furnishes more _units of measure_ of various kinds—weight, work,
heat, tenacity—than any other force of nature.

It will be remembered that _Physics_ is that branch of science that
considers the general properties of matter, and the character of those
forces which affect matter without destroying its molecule. It includes
many subdivisions. In addition to those already mentioned, we find
Molecular Attraction, or the operation of forces that act at insensible
distances; Hydrostatics, which treats of liquids at rest; Hydraulics, of
liquids in motion; Pneumatics, of gases; Machines, of means for applying
force; Acoustics, of the laws of sound; Heat; Light; and Electricity.

As many physical properties have been mentioned in the articles on
Air, Water, and Fire, they will not now be considered. Our discussion
here applies more especially to those substances which, at ordinary
temperatures, are solid.

[Illustration: _Ex._—A body buoyed up in water displaces its own weight
of the liquid. The glass is nicely graded, and as the water rises in the
vessel, the registration at once indicates the amount of water displaced.
This proves the truth of the “Law of Archimedes”[9], ascertained while he
was investigating the problem of the golden crown.]

The most characteristic properties of solid bodies are the following:
Hardness, tenacity, malleability, ductility, and crystalline form.
Hardness is the resistance which a body offers to being scratched.
Tenacity is the resistance offered by a body to a separation of its
parts. Malleability is that property of a body which makes it capable
of being rolled into sheets. Ductility is capacity for being drawn into
wire, and crystalline form is the property which causes it to assume
regular shapes.

As will be observed, these peculiarities are closely dependent upon
cohesion and adhesion. By the former we understand the force which
holds together the similar molecules of a substance; and by the latter,
the force which unites the surfaces of different materials. Familiar
as we are with these two agencies, their nature is not yet understood.
We can easily discover that they are very dependent upon heat, by the
application of which most solids pass from the stable form, to one
in which, instead of cohesive force between the molecules, there is
repulsion; as in the conversion of ice into water, and then into steam.

This movement of molecules is also dependent upon pressure. The most
interesting illustration of this is seen in the action of glaciers. It
has been ascertained that the melting temperature of ice lowers one two
hundred and fiftieth of a degree for every fifteen pounds of pressure to
the square inch.

The immense superincumbent mass of ice must, in many places, set free
so much latent heat that a portion of the ice melts, so that here and
there cells and liquid veins would be opened in the interior of the
glacier. But the particles which separate these thin layers of water
would almost immediately close up. This is the brilliant demonstration
of Prof. Tyndall, who has given the operation the name of “regelation.”
It has been thus described: “This phenomenon takes place at every point
in the thickness of the glacier. Particles of ice approach one another,
and unite across little veins of water, which permeate it in every
direction; fresh liquid films are formed under the pressure from above;
fresh unions take place between the divided morsels of ice; and, by this
continual process of change, the air contained in the mass of that which
once was snow, is gradually expelled. Thus it happens that the whole mass
ultimately assumes an almost perfect transparency and a beautiful azure


One of the most beautiful illustrations of cohesive attraction is seen
in crystallization. In every instance in which substances pass into the
form of a solid, they tend to assume regular shapes called crystals. Each
material has its own characteristic form, so that a crystal is a type
of a species in the mineral world, even as a plant or an animal is in
the organic kingdom. A crystal is a substance bounded by plain surfaces
and symmetrically arranged about imaginary lines called axes. The final
form depends upon certain smaller forms in its interior structure. They
possess lines of division, often in three directions, called “cleavage.”

While there are millions of crystals, they have all been classified under
six systems, as follows: 1. Monometric, where the three axes are equal.
2. Dimetric, having one axis unequal to the other two, which are equal to
each other. 3. Trimetric, having no two axes equal. 4. Monoclinic, having
one axis inclined. 5. Triclinic, in which all the three intersections
are oblique and the axes unequal. 6. Hexagonal, which has the form of a
regular hexagonal prism.

[Illustration: _Ex._—Showing change of volume. The upper part of the
figure represents a substance expanded. There are no more molecules here
than below, but they are pushed further apart. This is supposed to be the
way in which all bodies are enlarged by heat.]

While contemplating the thousand beautiful forms in which molecules are
arranged into crystals, whereby many economic purposes are served, as
well as taste manifested, one can not resist the conviction that such
displays of wisdom, benevolence and love of beauty can alone emanate from
the eternal Mind.

Another wide-spread effect of cohesion is seen in


Everywhere in fossiliferous rock may be found organic remains in which
the material of which they were originally composed has been replaced by
some mineral substance. Some have supposed that these plants and animals
have actually been converted into stone by a change of their elements.
This is of course absurd. Carbon can never be anything but carbon, nor
indeed, can any element ever become anything other than itself. This
dream of the alchemist was long since dissipated. No, strange as it may
seem, the molecules of these fossilized organisms must actually pass
out, and silica, lime, clay, or some such matter pass in and take their
places. Beautiful specimens of petrified wood, found especially on the
Pacific coast, are often hard as glass. One very handsome variety,
called “opalized” wood, clearly indicates that petrifaction was either
accompanied or followed by crystallization.

Myriads of shells, bones and plants scattered through the earth’s strata
have been transformed in the manner indicated. Although petrifaction is
usually a long process, there is reason to believe that it sometimes
takes place rapidly. This operation must not be confounded with
incrustation, which is often mistaken for it, and takes place where
substances, like bending twigs, have deposited upon them layer after
layer of lime, salt, sulphur or ice.

The molecules of _solids_, even, are in intense and ceaseless motion.
As has been said, “A continuous and restless, nay, a very complicated
activity is the order of Nature throughout all her individuals, whether
these be living beings or inanimate particles of matter. Existence is, in
truth, one continued fight, and a great battle is always and everywhere
raging, although the field in which it is fought is often completely
shrouded from our view.”

[Illustration: _Ex._—A simple illustration of the convenience of
machinery in applying force and changing direction.]

The motto of the brave Huguenots in the time of Louis XIV. was “Ever
burning, but never consumed.”

Nature’s motto, both for matter and energy is, “Ever changing, but never
destroyed.” Let us next notice some instances of the


Energy is the power to do work or overcome resistance. It is of two
kinds—potential and kinetic. The former is the energy or force due to
position, but it is latent or inactive. The latter is the energy of a
body which is in motion. A stone resting on a mountain top, the water in
a quiet mill pond, a coiled spring, are all examples of potential energy.

The stone, crushing through the cottage of a peasant, the water turning a
factory wheel, the spring turning the wheels of a clock, are examples of
actual or kinetic energy.

[Illustration: _Ex._—Lay a magnet down on iron filings. They will gather
in greatest abundance about the poles, and diminish toward the center,
where there are none; thus showing the nature of polarity.]

Energy often disappears to reappear under a different name. If we lift
our hand to strike the palm of another, our vital energy becomes motion,
and that in turn is changed into heat.

In the Bell telephone the sound-waves in the mouthpiece are converted
into electric vibrations in the wire, and these, in turn, induce
sound-waves in the receiving instrument at the other end of the line.

In dynamo-electric machines we have a chain of transmutations of
force—chemical affinity in the fire-box, expansion in the boiler,
becoming in turn, motion, magnetism, electric currents, until it appears
as resplendent light and intense heat between the carbon points.

Potential energy slumbers in the raindrop, and, anon, as kinetic energy,
flashes in the lightning.

In short, the sum of all the energies of nature is a constant quantity,
although it manifests itself in a thousand different ways. The foregoing
reflections indicate that the researches of modern science all point to
a grand unity in God’s universe. Let us conclude by briefly referring to
some instances of plan or design in the


The most characteristic feature of all science is that it arranges facts
in an orderly manner, under principles or laws.

Nature seems to delight, likewise, in doing a variety of things under
one general principle. Note a curious _trinity_ in her method: We have
three great departments of nature—animal, vegetable and mineral; three
parts to our being—physical, mental and moral; three divisions of the
mind—intellect, sensibilities and will; three parts to all plants—root,
stem and foliage; there is earth, sea and sky; three great classes in all
mechanism—lever, cord, and inclined plane—and many others that might be

Observe another group of laws in physics: Variation, in accordance with
an exact proportion.

Gravity varies inversely as the square of the distance; heat varies
inversely as the square of the distance; light varies inversely as the
square of the distance, and sound varies also in exactly the same ratio.

Who can contemplate this exact mathematical arrangement, extending
through many departments of matter, without concluding that “Nature is
but the name for an effect whose cause is God?”



A distinguished writer has said: “The eyes are of no use without the
observing power,” and surely no faculty we possess is capable of so much
cultivation as the sight. The facility with which the eye can express the
emotions of the soul has been the theme of poets of all ages, who have
not hesitated to confess which style of eyes pleased them the most. Says

    “I everywhere am thinking
    Of thy blue eye’s sweet smile;
    A sea of thoughts is spreading
    Over my heart the while.”

And others:

“His eyes are songs without words.”

“A suppressed resolve will betray itself in the eyes.”

“An eye can threaten like a loaded and leveled gun, or can insult like
hissing or kicking; or, in its altered mood, by beams of kindness, it can
make the heart dance with joy.”

“Eyes are bold as lions, roving, running, leaping, here and there,
far and near. They speak all languages; wait for no introduction; ask
no leave of age or rank; respect neither poverty nor riches, neither
learning nor power, nor virtue nor sex, but intrude, and come again, and
go through and through you in a moment of time. What inundation of life
and thought is discharged from one soul into another through them!”

There are

        “True eyes
    Too pure and too honest in aught to disguise
    The sweet soul shining through them;”

and “eyes that have murder in them, whose flash is the forerunner of
thunder.” One has “an eye like Mars, to threaten and command,” and other
eyes are “the homes of silent prayer.”

But the variety in color and expression of the eye is as nothing compared
to difference in the power of observation. Those ancient companions,
“Eyes and No-Eyes,” the story of whose wanderings conveyed a valuable
lesson to young and old, were but prototypes of people who go through
the world to-day, some of whom see everything, while others see nothing
at all. Poets, who could write so beautifully of the eyes, must first
have trained their own vision to perceive the beauty or baseness they
described, and it is the exercise of this far-seeing, penetrating,
analytical power that is the prerogative of genius.

The specialist devotes himself to the closest examination of details. The
naturalist does not let the smallest insect escape him, and his trained
eye perceives the least peculiarity that denotes the varieties of species.

A person with ordinary eyesight takes up a rose, a lily, or a daisy, and
only admires color, shape, or perfume; while the botanist examines the
flower in every part, and tells who was its grandfather or grandmother,
and feels as tender an interest in it as if it were a human being.

The artist has to train his eye to look for beauty where apparently none
appears. He must have an eye for color, for form, for expression, for
whatever line he proposes to follow, and he will never rise to eminence
if he is satisfied with a hasty, careless, superficial glance.

Turner[1] was one day painting a landscape with the richness of color
that was his specialty, when an English girl who was painting near him
left her easel and came to look over his shoulder. “Why, Mr. Turner,”
said she, “I don’t see any of those colors in the grass or the trees.”

“No?” said Turner. “Don’t you wish you could?”

It is astonishing that with so much of beauty as there is around us, so
many people are found who travel through the world without having used
their eyes to any profit whatever. The training needs to be begun in
early life; children should be taught how to observe; and as some are
duller than others they need to have things pointed out to them, until
the habit of examining closely becomes fixed, and like second nature.

What a wonderful field for study there is in the sky above us! Look at
the clouds; here, in great, heavy masses; there assuming strange shapes,
and taking on an infinite variety of coloring. See the setting sun; never
twice alike; a marvel of beauty and grandeur; a feast for even young eyes.

Let us go down by the seashore and watch the great waves come in. The sea
is broad, and grand, and deep; but is that all? Note how it reflects the
color of the sky; mark the waves that rise afar, and show their white
manes like wild horses of the sea, and dash on the shore like a charge of
cavalry. How they come galloping, galloping on! Watch for the ninth wave,
and look out for yourself! Observe the height that each succeeding wave
obtains when the tide is on the rise, and how the character of the beach
is changed after a severe storm of wind or rain. There is a volume of
interesting study in a handful of sand, a tuft of moss, a small patch of
grass, or a bunch of seaweed.

Ruskin,[2] that exceedingly close observer of art and nature, and
eminently sharp critic of men and things, gives us some excellent
instruction in the art of looking below the surface. “There is no bush,”
he says, “on the face of the globe exactly like another bush; there are
no two trees in the forest whose boughs bend into the same network, nor
two leaves on the same tree which could not be told one from the other,
nor two waves in the sea exactly alike. And out of this mass of various
yet agreeing beauty, it is by long attention only that the conception of
the constant character—the ideal form—hinted at by all, yet assumed by
none, is fixed upon the imagination for its standard of truth. Ask the
connoisseur, who has scampered over all Europe, the shape of the leaf
of an elm, and the chances are ninety to one that he can not tell you,
and yet he will be voluble of criticism on every painted landscape from
Dresden to Madrid, and pretend to tell you whether they are like nature
or not. A man may recognize the portrait of his friend, though he can
not, if you ask him apart, tell you the shape of his nose or the height
of his forehead.

“The color of plants is constantly changing with the season, and that
of everything with the quality of light falling upon it; but the nature
and essence of the thing are independent of these changes. An oak is an
oak, whether green with spring or red with winter; a dahlia is a dahlia,
whether it be red or crimson; but let one curve of the petals, one groove
of the stamens be wanting, and the flower ceases to be the same. Two
trees of the same kind, at the same season, and of the same age, are
of absolutely the same color; but they are not of the same form, nor
anything like it.”

How few of us observe these things! and how much we miss daily and hourly
through lack of this special training of the eye!

A geologist was with a party of friends in the Yosemite valley and called
their attention to the play of the light from a campfire on the underside
of the leaves of the trees above them. It was a beautiful revelation, and
all wondered that they had never noticed it before.

If you are living in the country you should educate the eye to study
nature in all its phases, and every day add something to your store of
knowledge. Observe the habits of birds, and their haunts; watch the ants
and other insects; familiarize yourself with plant life so that you can
tell a weed from a flower, and a medicinal herb from a poisonous plant.

If a dweller in the town, observe varieties of architecture, the
materials used in the manufacture of houses; compare modern with ancient
styles; and lose no opportunity of obtaining information in regard to
all that is new and strange. Wherever you are, be less intent on reading
novels than in observing wherein you can improve your surroundings. The
slattern, with her nose in a book, is blind to the cobwebs that hang
from the ceiling, and the rags and dirt visible to every one else. She
is cultivating the eyes of her imagination, and reveling in scenes of
fairy-like splendor, and has no eyes for the common things of every day
life. Her powers of observation are exceedingly limited, and her home is
no better for her being in it. She is content to lead an idle life, and
does not see in how many ways she might amuse and improve herself.

The trained housekeeper has made good use of her eyes, and by noticing
trifles has brought her department to a high state of perfection. It is
not enough that she has a natural taste for it; she must be continually
looking after things with the searching gaze of an inspector-general.
Her practised eyes see when the table-cloth is awry, or the dishes not
in their places; when the furniture needs renovating, or the dust has
accumulated, and she feels that her reputation is at stake if the defects
are not speedily remedied.

An expert in precious stones can tell almost at a glance the value and
weight of each gem, and is not easily deceived by counterfeits.

The physician can so train his eye that he has merely to look closely
at the patient to determine the nature of his disease; while the
microscopist, the geologist, and the astronomer acquire such accuracy
from their close and long continued investigations that they can detect
the least change in the appearance of the heavens above or the earth

But the astronomer may have his eyes so fixed on the stars that he can
not observe what is going on below; the geologist may be able to analyze
a stone and tell to which stratum it belongs, and yet take no interest in
anything that is above ground; and the devoted student of the microscope
may be so entranced by the wonders continually opening before him, that
he is utterly oblivious to all else surrounding him. Without this habit
of observation, the world would have had no Galileo, no Humboldt, no
Newton, no Agassiz, no Hugh Miller, no Edison,[3] and no progress. But
all are not gifted in the same way; and often the sphere we move in or
the place in which we are born, determines and decides our calling,
and controls our habits to a very great extent. It is natural that one
accustomed to an open country should have his eyes attracted toward the
heavens, which are constantly revealing new wonders; and that one brought
up among the rocks should take to hammering them to bits, boy-like, to
see of what they are made, or how they look inside.

The differences between men consist in a great measure in the
intelligence of their observation. The Russian proverb says: “He goes
through the forest and sees no firewood.” “The wise man’s eyes are in his
head,” says Solomon, “but the fool walketh in darkness.” It is the mind
that sees as well as the eye. Where unthinking gazers observe nothing,
men of intelligent vision penetrate into the very fiber of the phenomena
presented to them, attentively noting differences, making comparisons
and recognizing their underlying idea. Many before Galileo had seen a
suspended weight swing before their eyes with a measured beat; but he was
the first to detect the value of the fact.

One of the vergers[4] in the cathedral at Pisa,[5] after replenishing
with oil a lamp which hung from the roof, left it swinging to and fro;
and Galileo, then a youth of only eighteen, noting it attentively,
conceived the idea of applying to it the measurement of time. Fifty
years of study and labor elapsed before he completed the invention of
his pendulum—the importance of which, in the measurement of time and in
astronomical calculations, can scarcely be overrated. In like manner,
Galileo having heard that a Dutch spectacle-maker had presented to Count
Maurice, of Nassau,[6] an instrument by means of which distant objects
appeared nearer to the beholder, began to inquire into the cause of such
a phenomena, and this led to the invention of the telescope, and proved
the beginning of the modern science of astronomy.

While Captain (afterward Sir Samuel) Brown[7] was occupied in studying
the construction of bridges, with the view of contriving one of a cheap
description to be thrown across the Tweed, near which he lived, he
was walking in his garden one morning when he saw a tiny spider’s web
suspended across his path. The idea immediately occurred to him that a
bridge of iron ropes or chains might be constructed in like manner, and
the result was the invention of his suspension bridge.

So James Watt,[8] when consulted about the mode of carrying water by
pipes under the Clyde, along the unequal bed of the river, turned his
attention one day to the shell of a lobster presented at table, and from
that model he invented an iron tube, which, when laid down, was found
effectually to answer the purpose.

Sir Isambard Brunel[9] took his first lessons in forming the Thames
tunnel from the tiny ship-worm; he saw how the little creature perforated
the wood with its well-armed head, first in one direction and then in
another, till the archway was complete, and then daubed over the roof and
sides with a kind of varnish, and by copying this work on a large scale,
Brunel was at length enabled to construct his shield and accomplish his
great engineering work.

It is the intelligent eye of the careful observer which gives these
apparently trivial phenomena their value. So trifling a matter as the
sight of seaweed floating past his ship enabled Columbus to quell the
mutiny which arose amongst his sailors at not discovering land, and to
assure them that the eagerly sought New World was not far off.

It is the close observation of little things which is the secret of
success in business, in art, in science, and in every pursuit in life.
When Franklin made his discovery of the identity of lightning and
electricity, it was sneered at, and people asked, “Of what use is it?” To
which his reply was, “What is the use of a child? It may become a man!”
The great Cuvier[10] was a singularly accurate, careful, and industrious
observer. When a boy he was attracted to the subject of natural history
by the sight of a volume of Buffon,[11] which accidentally fell in his
way. He at once proceeded to copy the drawings, and to color them after
the descriptions given in the text. At eighteen he was offered the
situation of tutor in a family residing near Fécamp, in Normandy. Living
close to the seashore, he was brought face to face with the wonders of
marine life. Strolling along the sands one day he observed a stranded
cuttle-fish.[12] He was attracted by the curious object, took it home
to dissect, and thus began the study of the molluscæ, in the pursuit of
which he achieved so distinguished a reputation. He had no books to refer
to excepting only the great book of nature which lay open before him. The
study of the novel and interesting objects which it daily presented to
his eyes made a much deeper impression on his mind than any written or
engraved descriptions could possibly have done. Three years thus passed,
during which he compared the living specimens of marine animals with
the fossil remains found in the neighborhood, dissected the specimens
of marine life that came under his notice, and, by careful observation,
prepared the way for a complete reform in the classification of the
animal kingdom.

The life of Hugh Miller furnishes another illustration of the advantage
of making a good use of the eyes. While Hugh was but a child, his
father, who was a sailor, was drowned at sea, and he was brought up by
his widowed mother. He had a school training after a sort, but his best
teachers were the boys with whom he played, the men among whom he worked,
the friends and relatives with whom he lived. With a big hammer which had
belonged to his great-grandfather, an old buccaneer, the boy went about
chipping the stones and accumulating specimens of mica, porphyry, garnet,
and other stones. Sometimes he had a day in the woods, and there, too,
his attention was excited by the peculiar geological curiosities which
came in his way. While searching among the rocks on the beach, he was
sometimes asked, in irony, by the farm-servants who came to load their
carts with seaweed, whether he was getting “siller in the stanes,” but
was so unlucky as never to be able to answer in the affirmative. When
of a suitable age he was apprenticed to the trade of his choice—that
of a working stone cutter—and he began his laboring career in a quarry
looking out upon the Cromarty Firth.[13] This quarry proved one of his
best schools. The remarkable geological formations which it displayed
awakened his curiosity. The bar of deep-red stone beneath, and the bar
of pale-red clay above, were noted by the young quarryman, who even in
such unpromising subjects found matter for observation and reflection.
Where other men saw nothing, he detected analogies, differences, and
peculiarities which set him thinking. He simply kept his eyes and his
mind open; was sober, diligent and persevering, and this was the secret
of his intellectual growth.

His curiosity was excited and kept alive by the curious organic
remains, principally of old and extinct species of fishes, ferns, and
ammonites,[14] which were revealed along the coast by the washings of
the waves, or were exposed by the stroke of his mason’s hammer. He never
lost sight of the subject, but went on accumulating observations and
comparing formations, until at length, many years afterward, when no
longer a working mason, he gave to the world his highly interesting work
on the “Old Red Sandstone,” which at once established his reputation as
a scientific geologist. But this work was the fruit of long years of
patient observation and research.

We learn from these interesting records that, no matter how or where one
is situated, he will always find opportunities for observation if he will
only keep his eyes open and his mind open at the same time. It is the
brain behind the eyes that makes seeing of any value. Every gift may be
perfected by self-culture, and by keeping our eyes busy on things about
us, by observing and comparing, we color our future lives, increase our
intelligence, and are never at a loss for new worlds to conquer.

What the world needs to-day is less _outlook_ and more _insight_; more
careful observance of what is needed in our homes by those we love and
those who love us. We need eyes to see our own duty in every department
of life, to note our own faults, and to observe the beauty rather than
the blemishes of others; to see wherein we can be of service, and in what
way we may enlarge our opportunities, and in order to acquire any skill
or proficiency we need continually to pray, “Lord, open thou the eyes of
our understanding.”




This subdivision of the animal kingdom, containing articulated or jointed
animals and insects, exceeds every other in the number and diversity of
the species. The articulation may belong to their bodies, limbs, or outer
covering. The tough shells of some, formed by a secretion of a hard,
horn-like substance, have numerous segments, or rings, either closely
joined and firmly cemented, as those about the head and thorax, or
loosely cemented, as those which encompass the abdomen. The skeleton of
some is external, and consists of these articulated segments, which serve
the double purpose of framework and covering. The muscles, or elastic
cartilages holding them together, are striated, or furnished with small
grooves in the sheath or shell. If the animal has limbs, they also are
jointed, and hollow.

CLASS I.—_Crustacea_, so called from the crust in which their soft bodies
are encased. They are a very large family, mostly of air breathing
animals, with enough in common to indicate their relationship, yet
distinguished by a great diversity in their forms and modes of life. Some
are very small, and are as numberless as the sands on the shore. Others,
when their members are all extended, can stretch themselves over a circle
several feet in diameter.

The chief orders of the Crustacea are the Barnacles,[1] the Water-flea,
the Fourteen-footed Crustacea,[2] and Ten-footed Crustacea.[3]

The Crayfish may be taken as a type of the structure of the Crustacea.
The body has two principal sections. The anterior, called the
cephalo-thorax,[4] extends to the first distinctly marked ring, and
the shield, thus far, is comparatively smooth, the segments fitting so
closely as to be practically one. In front and between the two pairs of
antennæ, or feelers, is a small pointed process in the place of the nasal
organ, but serving some other purpose. At the base of each of the smaller
antennæ, on the under side, is a minute sac, the mouth of which is
protected with delicate hairs. These are the organs of hearing, and near
them, on the outer side, are the organs of smell. The sense of touch is
in the fine cilia that fringe the mouth and the antennæ.

There are numerous appendages. Of the five pairs of legs, the first two
are provided with claws, or nippers. The fore-legs, or arms, have, in
the place of hands, strong pincers, similar, but not entirely alike; the
one with sharp edge and smaller teeth is used for cutting, the other
for mashing, or grinding the food. The other legs terminate in feathery
points, and are used, in part, for locomotion, and by the female for
carrying her eggs. The posterior pair, called swimmerets, together with
the expansion of the last segment of the abdomen into a kind of caudal
fin, are the main dependence for swimming. The segments are so loosely
jointed that the “tail” can be moved freely, and by flapping it the
animal moves easily. As there is no neck, in order to see objects in
different directions, the eyes are not sunk in the head, but placed at
the extremities of little muscular processes, or “eye stalks,” which
are movable, making even hind-sight practicable when backward motion is

[Illustration: THE CRAYFISH.]

The crayfish breathes through branchiæ, or gills, situated at the sides
of the thorax, protected by the carapace,[5] or horny covering, under the
edges of which the water and air reach the gills. Here a very curious
appendage is attached, called the “gill bailer,” which moves back and
forth, creating a current of water through the gills that finds its way
out through an opening near the mouth.

Under the welded sheath or cover of the head are the mandibles, or
jaws, between which the mouth opens; a short passage, leading to the
capacious, gizzard-like stomach, is provided with grinders, to still
further masticate the food before it passes into the intestine. The eggs
are small, and attached by glutinous threads to the appendages until they
are hatched; the young are also attached, until sufficiently developed to
live apart from the parent.

This class of animals undergoes periodic changes which are attended
with some degree of violence. The crustaceous covering is a kind of
epidermis,[6] having beneath it the true skin. It is formed by some
process of exudation from the growing body. This sheath, while soft,
expands slowly, but when hardened, the growth is retarded, and in time
it is found too small for convenience, so it is cast off, and a new and
larger one supplied to take its place. In this process of moulting the
animal attempts to put off its outer covering, not in fragments or parts,
but in one piece, though many delicate attachments have to be sundered,
membranes rent, and sometimes even a limb torn off in the resolute
effort to undress. This can not be done at all times, or at any time,
without special preparation. A period of apparent sickness precedes, and
the muscular parts of the limbs become shrunken, so that they are more
easily extricated. The loss of a leg is not so serious a matter, since
the damage is repaired by a new one with the same form and articulations.
As the work of repairing the limb begins at the joint nearest the body,
if the member is torn between that and the extremity, the partially
mutilated animal has the strange power of throwing off all that remains
beyond that joint.

Of other crustaceans, the common lobster is in most respects so similar
to that shown in the first diagram as to need no further description than
to say the cephalo-thorax is comparatively smaller, while the forearms
and claws are larger.

There are also marine crayfish that are very numerous about the
coral reefs off the Florida coasts, and have substantially the same
characteristics, only their claws are considerably less, and their
ciliated antennæ larger.

_Crabs_ are closely allied to lobsters, and belong to the highest orders
of the crustaceans. The lengthened, loose-jointed abdomen of the typical
crayfish is wanting, and there is a general concentration of the parts;
all the most important viscera being included in the thorax, and covered
by a single, closely compacted shield. There are many species of crabs,
differing in other respects as well as in the form of the shell or back,
which in some is nearly orbicular, in others it is oblong, longer than
it is broad, or broader than it is long. They differ in the smoothness
of their shells, and in the length of their legs, which they stretch
out from under their horny covering. Their first pair of limbs is not
fitted for locomotion, but shows a vigorous development of the strong
claws and pincers of other decapod crustaceans. Though found in almost
all seas, they are poor swimmers, their legs being formed for walking or
creeping, rather than as oars to propel them through the water. They are
found in pools, among seaweeds, and particularly in marshy places left by
the receding tides. Most species live in water, some in moist places on
land. Many kinds of crabs are used for food. Its black claws and broad
carapace readily distinguish it from other species. From activity in
seizing, tearing, and devouring their food, and from their pugnacity,
crabs are interesting inmates of the aquarium. They also moult, or cast
off their shells; not at regular seasons, but when the demand for more
room requires it.

CLASS II.—_Arachnida_ are closely related to the crustaceans, having,
like them, the body divided into two sections—cephalo-thorax and abdomen.
To the former are attached four pairs of legs, but the abdomen has no
appendages for locomotion. There are about 5,000 species, produced from
eggs, and undergoing no metamorphoses in their development.

The lowest forms, under the common name of _Acarina_,[7] have the
anterior part in a mass with the abdomen, and short legs near the
head, terminated in little claws suitable for taking hold of hairs and
feathers. They are mostly parasitic, and all birds and animals, even
parasites themselves, are liable to suffer from acarina peculiar to their
own species. _Pedipalpi_[8] (scorpions), and _Araneina_[9] (spiders),
though much larger, belong to this class. The body of the scorpion is
divided into segments, though the anterior of the abdominal part seems
but a continuance of the thorax, and is as large. It, however, soon
tapers off into a long, jointed, tail-like process, in the terminus of
which is its hooked sting, perforated and connected with the poison sac.
In striking, the tail is raised over the back and struck down. Its other
weapons are the crab-like claws on the strong forearms. The _Araneina_,
at least some classes of them, are well known. The soft, unjointed body
is separated from the thorax by a narrow constriction or tie, and at
the posterior end there are little appendages called spinnerets, through
which the silken lines issue that form the web. The hinder feet are
skillfully employed in arranging the gossamer threads after patterns that
are instinctively followed.

CLASS III.—_Myriapoda_, Centipedes,[10] have the thorax merged with
the elongated abdomen, while the head is free. They resemble worms in
form, but the skin is stiffened with chitine,[11] and the many legs are
articulated. There are two orders: the _Chilognatha_,[12] which move
slowly, and are harmless, the “thousand legged worm” is a representative,
and the _Chilopoda_,[13] more active, and having a flattened body of
about twenty segments, each carrying one pair of legs. Their mouths
are armed with formidable fangs connected with poison glands. They are
carnivorous, and may be distinguished by their general appearance,
quicker movements, and by having longer antennæ than the innocent

[Illustration: THE HEAD OF AN INSECT.

_Ex._—_A_, gula, or throat; _b_, ligula, or tongue; _c_ mandibles; _d_,
maxillæ, or inner jaws.]

CLASS IV.—INSECTA. The distinguishing characteristics of this class are
that the head, thorax, and abdomen are distinct; that they possess three
pairs of jointed legs, one pair of antennæ, and, generally, two pairs
of wings. The skin is hardened, and to it the muscles are attached. The
eyes are usually composed of a number of facets, from fifty in the ant to
many thousands in the winged insects. As the eyes are not movable, these
facets enable them to see in many directions.

The several parts of the head and its appendages are shown in our
illustration. The sensitive palpi, or feelers, with the delicate
hair-brush tips at the ends, may also be noticed. The mouth differs
in different species, and is fitted for biting and masticating,
or puncturing and sucking. The adaptation seems perfect. Of all
animals belonging to the articulate type, the Insecta possess the
highest instincts. To this class belong the following orders: I.
_Neuroptera_,[14] or lace-winged insects, of which the Dragon-fly,
or Devil’s Darning Needle, is a good representative. II. The
_Orthoptera_[15] (straight-winged). They have four wings, the front
pair thick and narrow, overlapping along the back; the hind pair broad,
net-veined and folded upon the abdomen. The representative forms are
Crickets, Grasshoppers, Locusts, and Cockroaches. III. _Hemiptera_[16]
(half winged). To this order belong the wingless Bed-bug, the Squash-bug,
the Seventeen-year Locust, and the Cochineal.

_Coccus-cacti_[17]. The Mexican cochineal insect is of great value as
a dye, and from it the most beautiful scarlet and crimson colors are
obtained. The female is wingless, and, as an uncomely parasite, lives
and feeds on cactus plants, especially those of the nopal[18] species,
native in Mexico and Peru. The male only is represented in the diagram,
and magnified somewhat larger than life. They are comparatively few in
number, and of no commercial value. The plants are cultivated for the
purpose, and the care of the insects, which increase very rapidly, is an
industry giving employment to thousands of laborers, and in some parts of
Mexico the product of the cochineal farms is among the most valuable of
their exports. Cortes[19] in the sixteenth century received instructions
from the Spanish court to obtain cochineal in as large quantities as
possible. The export became very large, both Spaniards and others
becoming skilled in the use of the beautiful dye stuff, nearly a hundred
years before its real nature was known. The dried insect being very
small, and crushed in preparing it for market, it was supposed to be the
seed of some plant; and it was not until in 1703 that its true nature was
discovered by microscopic observations. The industry still flourishes in
Mexico, but both plant and the insect have been taken to other countries,
and do well. The annual export of cochineal from the Canary islands has,
in the present century, amounted to over 6,000 tons, valued at more than
$4,000,000. The manner of collecting the insects is very simple. When of
sufficient age, some already dead, and others yet alive, they are brushed
off into bags, and the living killed by holding them either in boiling
water or heated ovens, and then exposed in the sun till quite dry. The
dried insects have the form and appearance of irregular fluted and
concave grains, of which it is estimated there are 70,000 in a pound.

[Illustration: THE COCHINEAL.]

There are several species of these insects, alike in form and habits,
but not alike useful. Some, as the Scale insect, are a great annoyance
to gardeners, and destructive to our house plants. Others, as the Wax
insect, live on certain tropical trees, and soon entomb themselves in a
mass of glutinous matter that oozes from the small twigs of the tree,
and which furnishes them both food and shelter. As they are marvelously
prolific, a single female, according to the estimates of entomologists,
being succeeded by many millions of descendants in less than a year,
when a colony has possession of a tree, every tender branch is soon
punctured, and the abundant resinous juices that flow out envelop it in
a coating often half an inch thick. These branches, and also what falls
to the ground, are collected, and the wax, melted off, is prepared for
the market. From this source the shellac of commerce, so extensively
used, is obtained. This curious and useful insect, like its congener, the
cochineal, secretes a coloring substance, but of different tints, and
less valuable. The Lac insect is a native of Siam, Assam, Burmah, Bengal,
and Malabar. For some years the average annual imports into Britain have
been a little over 600 tons of the lac dye, and more than a thousand
tons of lac, including the several varieties. This industry also gives
employment to many thousands of people.


_Ex._—_A_, larva; _b_, pupa; _c_, beetle.]

IV.—_Coleoptera_[20] (sheath-winged). Beetles are innumerable, about
ninety thousand species being recognized. Their anterior or upper wings,
useless for flight, are composed of a hard, horn-like substance known
as chitine, and meet in a straight line on the top of the back. The
posterior wings are thin, membranous, and, when folded, out of sight.
They have usually two pairs of laterally moving mandibles, or jaws, and
in their development undergo several metamorphoses. We see the egg, the
larva, or grub, in different stages of its growth, the chrysalis, and
the imago,[21] or complete beetle. Entomologists have spent much time
and labor in making collections, and classifying them according to their
peculiarities of form or habits. If many are repulsive, and most plain
in form and color, some are beautiful, and worthy of our admiration.
Beetles, especially in their larva stage of development are very
voracious, and as most of their species live on fruits, leaves, and stems
of plants, they are often destructive of crops, and even of forests.
Millions of vigorous, valuable trees have been assailed, and stripped
of their leaves fast as they appeared, or literally bored to death. All
know the ravages of the potato beetle on our American tuber, that has to
be assiduously defended to prevent the entire destruction of the crop.
Some known as Goliath and Hercules beetles are large, often measuring six
inches in length, exclusive of their long antennæ. The “Diamond beetles”
of Brazil are adorned with the most brilliant colors, showing a beautiful
metallic luster, and the elytra,[22] or chitine sheaths, of this species
are now largely used in the manufacture of personal ornaments.[23]

V. _Diptera_ (two-winged), or Flies, number about 24,000 varieties.
Among these are the Mosquito, Hessian fly, Daddy-long-legs, Flea, and
common House fly. They usually have one pair of fully developed wings,
the second pair being rudimentary, although a few, as the fleas, are
wingless. They pass through a complete metamorphosis, the larvæ being
usually footless maggots, with the breathing holes in the posterior part
of the body; the pupa are either encased in the dry skin of the larvæ or
are naked.

VI. _Lepidoptera_[24] (scaly-winged), or Butterflies and Moths, are
distinguished by four wings, covered on both sides by minute scales.
The butterflies fly by day and have knobbed antennæ, while the moths
fly by night and have feathery antennæ. Among the moths one of the most
interesting is that of the silk worm.[25] The physiology of the insect
and its metamorphoses reveal nothing very peculiar, and its habits need
not be mentioned farther than to say, the larva eats voraciously, with
short intervals of abstinence, until full grown, which stage is reached
in about a month. During the last ten days the silk germ is elaborated,
the eggs laid, and then the spinning and winding soon begin. To complete
the cocoon requires at most only about three days. The larva then becomes
a chrysalis, and in due time the moth emerges from its cell.

VII. _Hymenoptera_ (membrane-winged) comprises the Ichneumon and Gall
fly, Ants, Wasps, Bees, in all about 25,000 species. This order includes
the most social of the insects. They have four wings, which in flying
they fasten together by means of small hooks on the edges. The females
are usually provided with a sting or borer. The Gall fly produces
the gall nuts or oak balls so common on oak trees. The Ichneumon fly
introduces its eggs underneath the skin of the caterpillar.[26]

Ants[27] live in communities. They are divided into fertile females,
males and infertile females. Among the ants, the mining ants, which make
long galleries in the earth, and carpentering ants, which perforate solid
timber, are the best known classes. Some species, like the white ants of
the tropics, the termites, are famous for their ravages.

The bees are divided into queens or females, drones or males, and
workers. Each community or swarm has one queen, which lays the eggs. The
bee is provided with a formidable sting.

This curious weapon of attack and defense is here magnified with the
adjacent parts. It consists of an extensile sheath with two needle shaped
darts that are exceedingly sharp. This spear is furnished with barbs near
the point, and when it pierces the skin, if thrust with violence, it
sometimes remains, not only making the wound more painful, but, having
been wrenched from the bee, frequently causes its death. The sting is
connected with a little sac containing a poisonous liquid which is thrown
into the wound and increases the pain.

[Illustration: STING OF A BEE.]


This very small class of animals is distinguished by the leathery
sac-like covering, from which they take their name of Tunicata (having a
tunic). The Ascidian[28] is the best known representative. It is found
fastened to rocks, shells, crabs, and other bodies. These animals are
both simple and compound; the latter are often phosphorescent. They have
neither feet, head nor shell, but a shapeless body with apertures at both


This division includes the most perfect animals. Their chief
distinguishing characteristics are an internal skeleton; a backbone;
a dorsal nervous cord, separated from the body cavity; a complete
circulation, and limbs not exceeding four. There are about 25,000 living
species, beside the numberless host now extinct.

Lowest of the vertebrates, and closely related to the true fishes, are
the Lancelet and Lamprey.[29] The former is a lance-shaped animal having
no skeleton, but boasting the rudiment of a backbone in a string-like
cartilaginous cord. The organs are very simple, the heart being a long
sac in which colorless blood circulates. It breathes by taking in water
through the mouth and letting it out through the gill-slits. The Lamprey
belongs to the pouch-gilled vertebrates or _Marsipobranchii_.[30] It is
an eel-shaped animal of about three feet in length.

The round, soft mouth is suctorial, the tongue acting as a piston. By
suction it can anchor itself to a rock, and allow the long body to float
freely, without being carried by the current from the place. There are
seven gill openings on each side, and the whole breathing apparatus so
arranged that the animal can live some days out of the water. In some
parts of England it is in demand for the table, and “lamprey pie”[31] is
esteemed a great luxury. The American lamprey is similar, and the flesh
good, but in less demand in our markets. During the breeding season those
about the estuaries go up stream as do the shad, and by rolling stones
together construct large conical nests[32] for the protection of their
young. With apparently little adaptation for such architecture they
accomplish wonders in that line.

[Illustration: THE LAMPREY.]

CLASS I.—_Pisces._ The first clearly defined division of vertebrates is
that of the fishes. They are regarded as, in some respects, the lowest of
vertebrate animals. They are credited with having the least intelligence
and sensibility. Their eyes, though often large, are nearly motionless
in their sockets, are protected by no eye-lids, and are without the
expression usual even in the animal eye. If they have ears the external
parts are wanting. Sounds may reach the auditory nerve and be heard
through the cranium. The other senses, as taste, touch and smell, are
but slightly developed. But they are admirably adapted to the element in
which they live, and the mode of life for which they were created. In
no other organisms is the evidence of design in the adaptation of means
to the ends contemplated, more apparent. In the number of species and
variety of forms they exceed all other vertebrate animals.

The skeleton of a fish is usually divided into four parts: the _head_,
_respiratory organs_, _vertebral column_ and _limbs_.

The head is very suggestive, and of itself presents a profitable study.
It is not hung or poised on a neck, but attached immediately to the
body. In most species it is large, making a large mouth possible, but
pointed, to lessen the resistance met in passing through the water. In
some the eyes are quite near the nasal organ, in others farther back. In
some they face laterally, in others upward. As there is no nictating[33]
membrane there is neither winking nor the shedding of tears. Both jaws
are, to some extent, movable and provided with osseous teeth that are
usually sharp and of a spike-like form.

From the heads here presented the operculum,[34] or gill cover, is
removed to show those delicate respiratory organs. The branchiæ, or
gills, are situated at the sides of the head just back of the eyes, and
consist of numerous and very vascular[35] plates, arranged in double
fringe-like rows, fixed or attached at the base only, and so constructed,
in all respects, as to expose as much surface as possible. These gills
are covered with innumerable small blood vessels, to which blood is
pumped from the heart, there to receive the needed supply of oxygen. The
oxygen is obtained from what air circulates through the water, and not by
a decomposition of the water, as some have supposed. For some species the
modicum of oxygen, thus obtained, seems insufficient, and they come to
the surface for more.


Notice another peculiarity. There being no neck or long gullet, the
principal digestive organs are packed in the cavity near the capacious
mouth, and this leaves the whole of the posterior tapering part of the
body for strong muscles, that can vigorously move the caudal extremity
from side to side as a propelling oar. The spine is so jointed as to
allow a free horizontal and but little vertical motion.

The bones of fishes are less compact than those of the higher orders
of animals, but quite elastic; and in some species small bones are
distributed through the flesh, giving additional firmness to portions
that lack muscular strength. As the peculiar breathing apparatus of the
fish is adapted to its element and mode of life, so is every part and
appendage of the whole structure. Adaptation reigns through the whole.
The elongated tapering body, its scaly covering exquisitely adjusted,
the material and position of the fins, all attest the intelligent and
beneficent purpose of the Creator.

The _Elasmobranchii_[36] (strap-gilled) have a cartilaginous skeleton,
rough skin, and uncovered gills. The Shark, the Saw-fish and the Ray are
representatives of this order.

The _Ganoidei_ (enameled scales) formed one of the largest orders in
ancient geological history, but they have now but few representatives,
such as the Sturgeon, Gar-pike and Mud-fish. Their characteristics are a
skeleton not completely ossified, ventral fins placed far back, and the
tail heterocercal, that is, having the upper lobe larger than the lower.

The _Teleosti_[37] (perfect bone) form the largest order, including
nearly all our common fishes. The characteristics of the order are an
osseous or bony skeleton; gills protected by a gill cover or operculum;
and an equally divided tail. Lowest among the Teleosts is the common eel.
It has an elongated, cylindrical, thick-skinned body, and is destitute of
ventral fins. There are many species, and they are widely distributed,
living in both salt and fresh water. One species is electrical.[38] The
cat fishes of this order have long threads hanging from their jaws, and
are noted for their peculiar methods of protecting their young; one
species is electric, having cells arranged in layers over the body.

Other peculiar types are the Blind or Cave fishes,[39] living in the
waters of caves; the Lamp fishes which take their name from the luminous
spots arranged along the sides, and which are supposed to light the
recesses where they live, and the Flying fishes.

There are at least two genera, and more than thirty species of “flying
fish,” a name given to all those which have the pectoral fins so large
that they are sustained in short, seeming flights through the air. They
do not really fly, as they have not muscular power in their fins to beat
the air as birds do. But when extended the fins help bear them up, and
the impulse received at the start, sufficient to give them the elevation
they reach, may be supplemented by the use of the caudal fin as in
swimming. Some naturalists claim to have noticed a movement of the other
fins, but the preponderance of testimony is that these are of service
only as parachutes or the wings of a paper kite. The Herring, Shad,
Salmon, Pike, Perches, Bass, Mackerel and Cod are valuable food fishes,
belonging to the Teleosts. The Sword fishes, in which the upper jaw is
developed into a long, sword-like projection, used as a weapon of defense
and offense, is an interesting member of the order. The Climbing fishes,
noted for being able to live out of water, and the Nest Builders, which
make homes from the weeds of the Sargossa Sea,[40] are peculiar types.

Another curious Teleost is the Sea Horse. This peculiar animal has
its name (_Hippocampus_) from the shape of the head, that has some
resemblance to that of a horse. There is no other resemblance. The short
body, without legs, is covered with angular spinous plates. Its fishy
part is a long prehensile tail, but it has neither dorsal nor caudal fins.

The last order of fishes is the _Dipnoi_, or Lung fishes. They are
characterized by the possession of two lungs, as well as gills. The gills
are used in respiration when the fishes are under water, but when out of
it, and burrowing in the mud as they often do, the lungs are put into
service. They are also known as mud fishes, from their habits of encasing
themselves in the mud.

[Illustration: THE SEA HORSE.]

    _End of Required Reading for May._



President National W. C. T. U.


But—as I was saying when the stern old gentleman was pleased to interrupt
me—I am to give you reasons why you are to cultivate your specialty. And
I claim, first (as has been implied already), that you should do this
because you have a specialty to cultivate. (This, on the principle of the
old cook book, which begins its “Recipe for Broiling Hares,” with the
straightforward exhortation: “First catch your hare.”) The second reason
is, because you will then work more easily and naturally, with the least
friction, with the greatest pleasure to yourself and the most advantage
to those around you. “Paddle your own canoe,” but paddle it right out
into the swift, sure current of your strongest, noblest inclination.
Thirdly, by this means you will get into your cranium, _in place of
aimless reverie, a resolute aim_. This is where your brother has had his
chief intellectual advantage over you. Quicker of wit than he, far less
unwieldy in your mental processes, swifter in judgment, and every whit as
accurate, you still have felt, when measuring intellectual swords with
him, that yours was in your left hand, that his was in his right; and you
have felt this chiefly, as I believe, because from the dawn of thought in
his sturdy young brain, he has been taught that he must have a definite
aim in life if he ever meant to swell the ranks of the somebodies upon
this planet, while you have been just as sedulously taught that the
handsome prince might whirl past your door “’most any day,” lift you to a
seat beside him in his golden chariot and carry you off to his castle in

And of course you dream about all this; why shouldn’t you? Who wouldn’t?
But, my dear friends, dreaming is the poorest of all grindstones on
which to sharpen one’s wits. And to my thinking, the rust of woman’s
intellect, the canker of her heart, the “worm i’ the bud” of her noblest
possibilities has been this aimless reverie; this rambling of the
thoughts; this vagueness, which when it is finished, is vacuity. Let us
turn our gaze inward, those of us who are not thorough-going workers
with brain or hand. What do we find? A wild chaos; a glimmering nebula
of fancies; an insipid brain-soup where a few lumps of thought swim in a
watery gravy of dreams, and, as nothing can come of nothing, what wonder
if no brilliancy of achievement promises to flood our future with its
light? Few women, growing up under the present order of things, can claim
complete exemption from this grave intellectual infirmity.

Somehow one falls so readily into a sort of mental indolence; one’s
thoughts flow onward in a pleasant, gurgling stream, a sort of
intellectual lullaby, coming no-whence, going no-whither. Only one
thing can help you if you are in this extremity, and that is what your
brothers have—the snag of a fixed purpose in this stream of thought.
Around this will soon cluster the dormant ideas, hopes, and possibilities
that have thus far floated at random. The first one in the idle stream
of my life was the purpose, lodged there by my life’s best friend,
my mother, to have an education. Then, later on, Charlotte Bronte’s
“Shirley” was a tremendous snag in the stream to me. Around that brave
and steadfast character clustered a thousand new resolves. I was never
quite so steeped in reveries again, though my temptations were unusual;
my “Forest Home,” by a Wisconsin river, offering few reminders to my
girlish thought, of the wide, wide world and its sore need of workers.
The next jog that I got was from the intellectual attrition of a gifted
and scholarly woman who asked me often to her home and sent me away laden
with volumes of Wordsworth, Niebuhr and the British essayists. Margaret
Fuller Ossoli was another fixed point—shall I not rather say a fixed
star?—in the sky of my thought, while Arnold of Rugby, to one who meant
to make teaching a profession, was chief of all. Well, is it possible
that any word I have here written may set some of you thinking—that’s it,
_set_ you, a fixed purpose rather than a floating one—about a definite
object in life toward which, henceforth, you may bend a steady, earnest
gaze? I am not speaking of a thorough intellectual training only. It is
rather to the life-work, which only a lifetime can fully compass, that I
would direct your thoughts. Rather than that you should fail to have a
fixed purpose concerning it, I would that your mental attitude might be
like the one confided to me by a charming Philadelphia girl, whose letter
of this morning has the following _naïve_ statement:

    “I feel such an aching in me to do or be something uncommon, and
    yet a kind of awful assurance that I never shall.”

Nor do I here refer to that general knowledge of household arts which
forms the sole acquirement set forth in the regulation “Women’s
Department” of the bygone age newspaper, which in many localities remains
in this like the boulder of a past epoch.

It was once thought to be a high virtue for women, no matter how lofty in
station or how ample of fortune, to do their own work with the needle.
Homer represents Penelope spinning, surrounded by her maids, and classic
art abounds with illustrations of like character. But the virtues of one
age often become the mistakes of the next. When loom, needle and broom
were woman’s only weapons, she did well to handle them deftly, no matter
what her rank, for they were her bread-winning implements, and fortune
has been proverbially fickle in all ages. But men, by their “witty
inventions,” have perpetually encroached on “woman’s sphere.”

Eli Whitney, with his cotton gin, Elias Howe, with his sewing machine,
and a hundred other intricate-brained mechanics who have set steel
fingers to do in an hour what women’s fingers could not accomplish in a
year; all these have combined to revolutionize the daily cares of the
gentler sex. With former occupations gone, and the world’s welcome ready
when they succeed in special vocations new to them, it becomes not only
the privilege but the sacred duty of every woman to cultivate and utilize
her _highest_ gift. There is no more practical form of philanthropy than
this, for every one who makes a place for herself “higher up” leaves one
lower down for some other woman who, but for the vacancy thus afforded
her in the world’s close crowded ranks, might be tempted into paths of
sin. There is an army of poor girls wholly dependent, for a livelihood,
upon the doing of house work. They have no other earthly resource between
them and the poor house or haunt of infamy. There is another class to
whom an honorable support can come only by sewing or millinery work.
Whoever then fits herself for some employment involving better pay and
higher social recognition, graduates out of these lower grades and leaves
them to those who can not so advance, has helped the world along in a
substantial way, because she has added to the sum of humanity’s well

To young women in wealthy homes, these considerations should come with
even greater convincing force. As David Swing has wisely said to his own
rich congregation:

“The rhetoric thrown at women of property for not doing ‘their own work’
could only be useful in an age of fashionable idleness, but in a busy age
it is a part of nature’s law that what are called the ‘better classes’
shall leave for the poorer classes some labor to be done, just as the
Mosaic law left some sheaves in the field for the gleaner. The world’s
work is to be apportioned according to the need and capability of its
workers, and the higher order of power must not encroach upon the task
which nature seems to have set apart for the employment and support of
the less capable.”

Let it not be concluded that I have meant to speak lightly of the
intricate, skilled labor involved in making healthful and attractive
that bright, consummate flower of a Christian civilization—the home. I
have felt that this theme has been so often treated that it needed no
amplification at my hands, but I will add that, having been entertained
in scores of homes belonging to “exceptional women,” “women with a
career,” etc., my testimony is that for wholesomeness, heartsomeness, and
every quality that superadds home-making to housekeeping, I have never
seen their superiors, and seldom, take them all in all, their peers. But
as a rule, these women have earned the “wherewithal” to make a home, by
the exercise of some good gift of brain or hand, and thus having been
enabled to put a proxy in the kitchen, they direct, but do not attend to
the minutiæ of their daily household cares.

Cultivate, then, your specialty, because the independence thus involved
will lift you above the world’s pity to the level of its respect,
perchance its honor. Understand this first, last, and always: _The world
wants the best thing._ It wants your best. It needs you as a significant
figure to give its ciphers value; to designate as an example; to serve
up in a eulogy, perchance to shine in the galaxy by whose light alone
its centuries maintain their places in the firmament of history. I know
this may strike you as contradiction, for the paradox of paradoxes is
this crotchety but kind, narrow-minded but just old world in which you
and I are cast away, like Æneas in the domain of Dido. The effrontery
of “Madame Grundy” passes all comprehension, and would be laughable if
it were not so sad. She tells us women distinctly that we positively
shall not do for society the thing we can do best; she declares that if
we attempt it we shall be frowned down, and practically ostracised, if
not utterly made away with, and then, if we go right on and succeed, she
trumpets our names from sea to shore, showers us with greenbacks, and
nods her conventional old head with a knowing “I told you so.” And _per
contra_, while on one hand this same unreasonable old lady cripples our
attempts to succeed, on the other she snubs us for not doing so. In fact,
she is so poor a mathematician that she has never yet so much as tried to
learn the value of the “unknown quantity.” The mute Milton is, to her,
indeed “inglorious.” Her code of ethics recognizes just one crime (not
mentioned in the Decalogue), and it is Failure. Her law is written on a
single table—it is a table of stone—and it reads thus: “Succeed and live;
make shipwreck of success, and die.”

And so, young friends, fold away your talents in a napkin if you choose;
the world will not openly reprove you. She will never urge you to bring
out your hidden treasure, but she knows right well when you defraud
her, and the relentless old tyrant will punish you, with tireless lash,
because you did not bring all your tithes into the storehouse of the
common good, because you lived “beneath your privilege;” because, for
yourself (which means for _her_), you did not “covet earnestly the best
gifts.” She will cut you on the public street when she would have shown
you all her teeth in smiles. She will send poverty on your track, when
you might have sat down at her banquet an honored guest. Yes, the world
wants the best thing; _your best_, and she will smite you stealthily if
you do not hand over your gift. Now last, but not least (under the head
of reasons for seeking to know your true vocation as a human being), let
me bring forward the _rationale_ of the bread-and-butter argument. In
sooth, no writer or speaker may omit it with impunity, if he would retire
in good order from an American audience. Briefly, then, your specialty,
well trained, is your best bread-winning implement, and she who earliest
grasps this, and who firmest holds it, comes off best in the race. “Be
not simply good, be good for something,” said Henry D. Thoreau. A bright
eyed girl of eighteen used to come to me on Friday evenings to give me
German lessons. To be sure, I have lived in Germany, and she has never
been out of Illinois, but then that language is not my specialty, while
it is hers. “How is it that though so young, you have made yourself
independent?” I inquired of her one day. Listen to the reply: “My mother
was always quoting this saying of Carlyle: ‘The man who has a sixpence
commands the world—to the extent of that sixpence.’ I early laid this
sentiment to heart. Besides, when I was fifteen years old, I heard a
sermon on the text: ‘This one thing I do.’ Being of a practical turn
of mind, I made an application of which the preacher, perhaps, had no
intention. I thought, why not in everyday affairs as well as in religion
do one thing well, rather than many things indifferently, and in that way
secure the magic sixpence of Carlyle! My father was a rich man then, but
I resolved to prepare myself to teach the German language, of which I was
very fond, by way of a profession. When the Chicago fire came we lost our
property, but I discovered that I could not only support myself, but help
my father to many a convenient sixpence, because, in prosperous days I
had forearmed myself with a cultivated specialty.”

As she told me this, I thought how, from widely different premises and
conditions in life young people may reach similar conclusions. For
instance, on the top of the great St. Bernard, I said to the “Hospitable
Father,” a noble young monk, “How is it that you, so gifted and well
taught, are spending your life away up here among eternal snows?” And I
shall never forget his look of exaltation as he simply answered, “’Tis my

After all, this is the vital question: With what sort of a weapon will
you ward off the attacks of the blood-hound Poverty, which Dame Fortune
is pretty sure to let on everybody’s track sooner or later, that she may
try his mettle, and learn what manner of spirit he is of? In times like
these, when men’s hearts are failing them for fear, when riches are saved
the trouble of “taking to themselves wings” by the faithless cashiers
and bookkeepers who are adepts at furnishing these flying implements,
and, above all, when labor is coming to be king, the question “_What_
will _you_ do?” has fresh significance. Remember, going forth from the
uncertain Eden of your dreams, into the satisfying pleasures of honest,
hard work, “the world is all before you, where to choose.” Will you share
some other woman’s home, and help her make it beautiful? No task more
noble or more needed awaits the thoughtful worker of to-day. The world
exists but for the sake of its homes. Will you bestow your hand upon some
fine æsthetic industry, as drawing, designing, engraving, telegraphing,
phonographing, photographing? Will you be an architect? a printer? an
editor? Will you enter one of the three learned professions? Braver
women than you or I have won a foot-hold for us in each of them; as to
the brain-hold, that is our affair. I will not now pursue the question
further. Only the “Cyclopædia of Woman’s Occupations” (a book I recommend
to your attention) can exhaust it, and with it exhaust you and the
world’s work, too, for that matter!

After all, it doesn’t so much signify what you may do as that you do it
well, whatever it may be. For the value of skilled labor is estimated on
a democratic basis, nowadays. President Eliot, of Harvard University,
the cook in the Parker House restaurant, and Mary L. Booth, who edits
_Harper’s Bazar_, each receive $4,000 per year.

Think a moment. Will you be led to say: “The good old ways are good
enough for me,” and so drop into the swollen ranks of teacherdom, or
rattle awhile on a martyrized piano, and then set up for a musician,
though you have not a particle of music in throat or finger-tips? Or will
you stay at home and let papa support you until you grow tired of doing
nothing and expecting nothing, and proceed to marry some man whom you
endure rather than love, just to get decently out of your dilemma?

Nay, I do you injustice. Few girls who breathe the free air of our
western prairies will be so cowardly. I may not construct your horoscope,
but this much I will venture—that when you marry, no matter what you
_find_, you will _seek_ not a name, behind which to cover up the
insignificance of your own; not a “good provider,” to feed and clothe
one who has learned how to feed and clothe herself; not a “natural
protector,” to shield you in his plaidie, the gallant, gallant laddie,
from the cauld, cauld blast; but you will seek (and may heaven grant
that you shall find) that rarest, choicest, most elusive prize of man’s
existence, as of woman’s; one which—mournfully I say it—the modern
marriage is by no means certain to involve, namely, _a mate_. At this
juncture, shrewd _mater familias_ whispers to _pater_: “That’s the first
orthodox word she’s said.” Some youth throws down the magazine and
mutters to himself: “There, I knew it would come to this! Look at the
absurdity of these women! Why, they preach up all sorts of trades and
professions, and then they come back, at last, to the ‘good old way’ they
have forsaken, and advise every young lady to get a situation in a school
of one scholar, and her board thrown in.”

Meanwhile, heroic Hypatia sits near by, and “musing in maiden meditation,
fancy free,” on a “career,” murmurs within herself, “To this complexion
must it come at last!”

Peace, peace, good friends! This seeming inconsistency is readily
explained. In this century, when the wage of battle has cost our land an
army of her sons, when widows mourn, and unwedded thousands are forced to
meet the hard-faced world (from which rose-water theorists would shield
them), America is coming to the rescue of her daughters! For the nearer
perfect—that is, the more Christian—a civilization has become, the more
carefully are the _exceptional_ classes of society provided for. All our
philanthropic institutions under state or private patronage illustrate
this. In less enlightened days, your ideal woman composed the single,
grand class for which public prejudice set itself to provide. She was to
be the wife and mother, and she was carefully enshrined at home. But,
happily, this is the world’s way no longer. The exceptions are so many,
made by war, by the thousand misunderstandings and cross-purposes of
social intercourse, by the peculiar features of the transition period in
which we live, by the absurdly extravagant customs of our day, and the
false notions of both men and women—that not to provide for them would
be a monstrous meanness, if not a crime. And the provision made in this
instance is the most rational, indeed, the only rational one which it is
in the power of society or government to make for any save the utterly
incapable, namely: _a fair chance for self-help_. Nor (to pursue the line
of our argument still further) can we forget that skeleton hand which, in
utter disregard of “the proprieties” in destiny’s drama, thrusts itself
so often into the charmed domestic circle, and snatches the beloved
“provider” away forever, while it sets gaunt famine by the fireside in
his stead? Can we forget that, in ten thousand families, wives are this
moment waiting in suspense and agony the return of wretched husbands to
homes made hideous by the drunkard’s sin—wives whose work of brain or
hand alone keeps their children from want, now that their “strong staff
is broken, and their beautiful rod?” There are delicate white fingers
turning the page on which I print these words, that will never wear the
marriage ring; there are slight forms bending over my friendly lines,
which, not far down the years, will be clothed in widow’s weeds. Alas,
there are as surely others, who, when they have been wooed and won, shall
find that they are worse than widowed. And what of these three classes of
women, sweet and helpless? Clearly, to all of them I am declaring a true
and blessed gospel, in this good news concerning honest independence and
brave self-help! Clearly, also, no one is wise enough to go through the
assembly of my readers, and tell me who, in future years, shall need a
bread-winning weapon with which to defend herself and perchance, also,
the helpless ones between whom and the world there may be no arm but
hers. But it is a principle in public as well as private economy, that
_the wisest foresight provides for the remotest contingency_, and thus,
in its full force, all that I have been saying applies to every woman who
may read this article on “How to Win.” Suppose that many of you, dear
girls, are destined to a downy nest, instead of a strong-winged flight.
What then? Will the years spent in making the most of the best powers
with which God has endowed you be worse employed than if you had given
them to fashion and frivolity? Those “_ad interim_” years which separate
the graduate’s diploma from the bride’s marriage certificate, can they
possibly be invested better than in the acquisition of some useful trade
or dignified profession? And then, aside from this, I would help the
youngest of you to remember (even in the bewildered years of her second
decade) what noble Margaret Fuller said: “No woman can give her hand with
dignity, or her heart with loyalty, until she has learned _how to stand
alone_.” It is not so much _what comes to you_ as _what you come to_,
that determines whether you are a winner in the great race of life. Never
forget that the only indestructible material in destiny’s fierce crucible
is _character_. Say this, not to another—say it to yourself; utter it
early, and repeat it often: _Fail me not, thou_.



Translated for THE CHAUTAUQUAN from the _Révue Scientifique_.

The definition given to-day to mineralogy places it among the exact
sciences. Long continued study has shown that it possesses all the
inflexibility of chemistry, of physics, of mathematics. The work of one
making a specialty of this subject is similar to that of a millwright who
collects the different pieces, forged and cast and prepared in various
ways by other workmen, and arranges them all in their proper relations to
one another, joins them, and forms the mill with all its complication of
machinery in good order, ready to run without friction, without jar. The
mineralogist gathers up the facts and theories wrought out by workers in
other fields of science, studies their variations, their agreements and
connections, demonstrates their presence and their union in inorganic
bodies, and sums up and announces all the results of his labor in the
form of laws which shall be exact rules for events past, present, and
future; for a science incapable of foreseeing and foretelling is not a
true science. Mineralogy is not chemistry, nor physics nor mathematics,
any more than the millwright is the smith or the smelter. It is a
distinct science pursuing a particular aim, and which, although borrowing
from other sciences certain of their results, nevertheless possesses
its own individuality. It might be said to be a direct application of
these three sciences, together with geology, to the study of the life of

I have just used a very significant expression: _The life of minerals_.
Others have used it before me. “Not only do stones live, but they suffer
from sickness, from old age, and death,” wrote Cardan in the sixteenth
century. And he was right. Eternal matter performs an eternal cycle; the
incessant variations which it experiences; the movement which is never
arrested, which from modification to modification, from transformation
to transformation draws it along without a single moment of rest; the
continual births and deaths and resurrections _are life_. Every man,
every animal, every plant, and every stone obey without any power to
resist, and they are all borne along without relaxation or repose toward
a vortex whose beginning and ending are concealed within the shadows of
eternity. There is no difference between the mineral and vegetable, or
animal. Inorganic life is identical with organic life, varying only in

From the moment which we call birth, that is to say at the commencement
of one of these periods of transformation, our eyes see, hour by hour,
moment by moment, the living being develop. The atoms entering into
its construction seek like atoms to which they ally themselves, and
molecules combine with other molecules. What matters it about the form
of being? Simple or complicated, the law is the same, and it is obeyed.
The individual appears with its own chemical constitution, its own form
and look, its own variations, all decided under its predetermined
conditions. Among these conditions a single one is variable, but the
equilibrium is constantly preserved; the individual changes from time to
time in its own appointed way, but it never ceases to exist.

In the same manner as organic life bears the impress of its surroundings,
so do minerals submit themselves to external influences. The one perhaps
is more frail, more delicate, less able to resist, more susceptible to
impressions; the natural forces of the other, more powerful because
they are simpler, yield less readily to circumstances. Both alike are
forced to take their part in the great concert of forces in which they
fare only infinitely feeble notes; both alike are influenced by the
majestic assembly of powers which act upon them, and upon which they, in
turn, also act, conformably to one of the first laws of matter, that of
equality between action and reaction.

Let us take any mineral whatever and subject it to a constantly
increasing temperature. We notice first that it undergoes a change
of form. Cease the application of heat and it will gradually resume
its former shape. Let us heat it again, and more intensely. All the
properties of the matter which constitutes it become changed, some
quickly, some slowly, and it is incapable now of taking back its first
appearance. Its crystalline form is different, and its mechanical
elasticity, its hardness, and its electric properties; even its color
is changed. We will still increase the heat. The molecules disperse,
following certain directions, and, following others, gather themselves
together. Suddenly a limit, varying according to the chemical
composition, the crystalline type, or the pressure, is broken; the solid,
beginning to melt, becomes a liquid. Heat it still higher and we shall
see new phenomena appearing, volatilization and dissolution. Another
limit is passed and the atom, becoming isolated, is free henceforward
from the laws of chemistry, and must now obey laws yet unknown, the task
of discovering and formulating which is awaiting some worker in the
realms of physics or mechanics.

The dissolution of a mineral, is it not death? Every abrupt limit of all
the powers of a body is death, and all death precedes a resurrection.

As a child, which at the same moment when it opens its eyes upon the
light and utters its first cry, begins already to die, so with the
mineral scarcely formed, death commences. Feldspar, which constitutes
in great part the soil pressed by our feet, under the influence of
air and of water, of drought by day and dews by night, of the heat of
summer and the cold of winter, of all agents mechanical, chemical and
physical acting upon it, is reduced to its elements by a series of almost
insensible transformations. Its fragments are broken to still finer
bits, and when they have become dust disintegration still goes on, and
gradually the silicon, the aluminum, the iron, the lime, the magnesium,
and the potassium which composed them form clay. The iron oxydizes, the
silicon separates itself, is dissolved by rain and carried off by the
streams. Each element then enters into a new combination; sometimes it
again becomes part of a stone; sometimes it helps to form the structure
of a plant; sometimes that of a man. Where can birth, signifying the
beginning of all existence, be placed, or where shall we find any real
death? I perceive only periods of life.

Of old, naturalists made more frequent and much stronger affirmations
than they do to-day. Confidence in self is the property of youth;
maturity learns to doubt, which is the beginning of wisdom, provided
that it does not remain content, but rather compels man to seek with
increased ardor the truth which seems to fly from him. The ancients
placed between the animal and the vegetable limits which in reality did
not exist. Up to the present time limits of the same nature have been
set between organic and inorganic life. But in proportion as we examine
minerals we shall see the differences disappear and the resemblances
increase. Man is born of parents; the whole animal and vegetable worlds
are perpetuated in obedience to the laws of reproduction, each after his
own kind. It was this absolute identity between parent and offspring that
separated distinctly the other kingdoms from the mineral; but recently
a scientist has discovered that the same fixed law is established in
this department of life also. M. Gernez prepared a solution consisting
of octahedral borax in five equivalents of water, and rhomboidal borax
in ten equivalents of water. The two bodies, excepting their proportion
of water, had the same chemical composition. The liquid, treated with
suitable precaution, remained perfectly limpid, and he could place in it
fragments of all imaginable substances, without causing it to give rise
to any remarkable phenomena. But when even an infinitely small crystal
of octahedral borax was dropped into it, the temperature rose, and in a
few minutes all the octahedral borax contained in the solution took the
crystalline form. Meanwhile, the rhomboidal borax was held in solution,
and in order to crystallize it in its turn, there was needed only the
contact of a rhomboidal crystal.

The mineral was evidently born of a parent; it was identical with this
parent; its symmetry was the same under the same circumstances. Similar
results from numerous experiments with other substances were obtained.

… Under the influence of agents whose masters we are, molecules group
themselves, following fixed laws, and arrange themselves in their
relative positions. Just as soldiers off drill, and scattered throughout
the camp, when the order of the commander is given, obey and fall into
line, so do molecules obey the forces in command over them.

Stranger still, this crystal perfectly formed, seems sometimes to have
a conception of an ideal of beauty, a perfect symmetry, the ellipsoid
of the cubic system, which is a sphere; it seeks it, tries to reach it,
and if it can not be attained, it falls to acting a part. It disguises
itself, just as is sometimes done among men, and strives to appear the
being it is not. The crystal, no more than the man, will ever assume a
place in a lower rank; each seeks to appear better than he is. To attain
its object the crystal will unite itself with the other crystals of the
same kind; then these will gather into groups. As they can not modify
their own angles they will crowd one against another. Let it cost what
it may, if it is a possible thing they will have their imperfections
removed, and will improve their individual appearance, and if any measure
of success is attained, the little crystals will enjoy in silence their
usurped glory.

If science, with the apparent rigidity of her measures, weights and
figures holds for the scholar oftentimes disagreeable surprises, she
sometimes cheers him by rewards full of a strange grandeur. Azote, or
nitrogen in its free state, constitutes more than three fourths of the
volume of the atmosphere, and is in its appearance the type of inertia.
Its presence seems to have no other rôle than to reduce the over-exciting
action of the oxygen upon our organs of respiration. In order to cause it
to enter into combination with other substances, it is necessary to have
recourse to the most energetic forces. Among these in nature only one,
electricity, lightning, is able to accomplish this result. But the union
once effected, the gas is capable of undergoing a thousand variations.
As passive as it was while free, so active does it become after entering
into any combination. As it is found in the constitution of all animal
and vegetable life, we find that without the storm-cloud no organic life
could exist. The origin of all creatures is to be found in a clap of

Such examples as these show that imagination as well as science derives
great profit from the intimate study of the phenomena presented by
minerals. One commences their study by measuring, by weighing, by
carefully analyzing; one gathers now and then slowly a little knowledge;
then suddenly this apparently barren field disappears to give place to
large horizons, to vast generalizations of majestic simplicity, resting
upon the solid foundation of experimentation. Let us not underestimate
the rôle of the imagination in scientific researches. It gives to the
scholar persistence in his daily toil; it is his hope at the moment he
begins an undertaking, his guide during the work, and his recompense when
he has finished. What a charm in the frequent discoveries of analogies
between the highest orders of beings and those which occupy the lowest
rounds in the ladder of perfection!

Similarity is to be observed also in the growth of individuals in the
different kingdoms. One sees at first crystal skeletons, then gradually
the crystals developing into perfection. Neither the chemist with all his
delicate tests, nor the physician armed with his accurate instruments can
decipher the feeblest trace of heterogeneity; the child grown has become
a man; the mineral fully developed has reached also its age of virility.

Minerals may be hindered in their development, may become irregular,
imperfect, deformed; upon certain of their angles new facets may
appear, in other parts facets may slowly become obliterated. As soon
as the obstacle causing the trouble is removed the wounds will heal
over, perhaps leaving their scars, and the crystals will pursue their
normal course. Sometimes an accidental circumstance, as that of too
ardent a sun, or a season too wet, will cause a fissure, and a malady
commences. Oxydation or hydration is produced, and the mineral begins to
disintegrate; finally, as a result of the accident, the last particles
are lost to sight. We think it has been destroyed. But it is dead; it
has died just as a man dies. Its elements are just as imperishable as
are those of man’s body, which, when it is laid away in the grave are
not annihilated, but, as they are resolved, enter again into new forms
in the great torrent of life. Their atoms are immutable, what they have
been, they are, and will be to all eternity; eternally young, eternally
the same, moving without rest, unmindful of time or of combinations. The
ancient symbol of the serpent with his tail in his mouth well represents
the cycle of life. Periods succeed periods.

The day ends in twilight and the night is followed by a new dawn. All
limits are effaced. The stone, the flower, the animal intermingle their
natures. With this thought in mind all life seems like a great net-work,
whose meshes are interlaced in countless ways, before which the seeker
after truth stands with ardent soul. But at the moment he thinks to
grasp the solution of the absorbing problem, he is only made more deeply
aware of his own weakness. And looking forward over the great expanse
stretching out before him to infinity, he experiences only one sentiment,
that of admiration; and his desire ever increases to learn still, and to
learn always.


Report of a lecture delivered by Hon. Eugene Schuyler in the National
Museum, Washington, D. C., on Saturday, February 28th.

This topic is especially interesting from the fact that so little is
known of it except by those in the service of the government whose duties
are connected with the foreign service. The government of the United
States, in uneventful times at least, is a despotism in the hands of five
or six men, working under and through constitutional forms, and subject
only to the penalty which is always exacted from very grave mistakes.
These men are the President, the Secretary of State, the Secretary of
the Treasury, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, the chairman
of the standing Committee on Appropriations, and the chairman of the
standing Committee on Ways and Means. In times of disorder, others are
added to this list, both from the Senate and from the Cabinet officers.
The chairmen of committees for other branches of the service also, at
such times, rise into prominence. Without the consent of some one, two
or three of these dignitaries no important step in public affairs can be
taken. The Secretary of State and the Secretary of the Treasury are the
only Cabinet officers who in ordinary times can influence, not only the
policy of the government, but also the welfare of the country, without
the permission of Congress; it may be, even without the knowledge of the

The currency question, the silver coinage, the position taken recently
by the Clearing House in New York, and the state of the gold market,
show how a sudden emergency may induce, if not compel, the Secretary of
the Treasury to take action which might strongly affect for good or for
evil the most vital interests of the nation. Nor is it otherwise with
the Secretary of State, who by an intemperate or ill-timed insistence
on national or individual rights, or by even a want of tact may cause
irritations hard to be appeased. On the other hand, by an ignorance of
precedence, an unguarded admission or an act of good nature, he may give
up rights which the nation has jealously claimed for a century, or has
held in reserve for future use. However, judging by the past, I think
our Secretary of State will do none of these things. This official is
selected with greater care than any other public officer. He is usually a
statesman of high rank or of long experience, and frequently a cautious
and shrewd lawyer into the bargain. The _possibilities_ of diplomatic
mistakes, however, are such that it is necessary for the Secretary of
State to be surrounded by thoroughly trained and skilled subordinates.
This department is among the earliest of the great divisions of the
administration created by Congress in 1789 for facilitating public
business, and during the first forty years of our national existence was
in reality, as now in rank, the leading department of the government.
Years ago, indeed, our foreign policy was of far more consequence to the
country than our domestic policy, although we still had to struggle, if
not for our existence, at least for our position and our national rights.
The Secretary of State, therefore, is the leading statesman of the party,
and at one time in the nation’s history was almost sure of succeeding
to the presidency. The duty of the Secretary of State not only is the
supervision and management of all the foreign relations of the United
States, but also those duties which in other countries are generally
given to the Keeper of the Seals, or to the Minister of Justice: such,
for instance, as the keeping, promulgation, and publication of the laws;
the custody of the great seal, and the preservation of the government
archives, as well as the charge of all special relations between the
general government and the several states. The first Assistant Secretary
is to be considered as a political officer, in the full confidence of
his chief, able to advise him, and even at times to replace him; while
the second and third Assistant Secretaries have by necessity and custom
become permanent officers. The affairs of the department are managed
with great secrecy, not only because the officials are careful and
trustworthy persons, but because the general public, as a rule, is but
slightly interested in matters pertaining to our foreign relations,
save when some great subject is under dispute. In England, France or
Italy the case is different, since the Minister of Foreign Affairs has a
place in Parliament, and can be interrogated at any time with regard to
particular questions arising with foreign countries, by which means the
public can not help being more or less informed on such matters, even
though the progress of negotiations may be kept secret. Here the only
method for obtaining such information is by a resolution of either house
of Congress, asking from the President the papers on the question in
point, and making an investigation, if considered necessary, through the
Committee on Foreign Affairs. These papers, however, may be refused, if
thought by the President that their publication would be disadvantageous
to the interests of the government. There is probably no other country,
even Russia or Germany not excepted, where so little is known by the
public of the negotiations carried on at any one time by the Secretary of
State. This has great advantages, enabling the government to conduct with
tranquility a negotiation which may be extremely necessary, and often to
settle disputes which, if public opinion were excited, might result in
a breach of friendly relations. On account of this quiet way of doing
business, many people are of the opinion that very little work is done
by the State Department. Clerks often work till late at night and all
Sunday, sometimes, preparing commercial and statistical information in
response to a question asked in Congress. The work of the chief clerk, in
one sense, is the hardest of all, for he has to work in a public room,
accessible to all, must inspect every paper that comes in or goes out,
must carry the whole business of the department in all its details in
his head, must see every one who calls, assist those who have legitimate
business, listen to others, giving “suave answers, but no information,”
and withal be patient and keep his temper. During the last fiscal year
the real expense of the State Department to the nation was less than
$400,000; since the total sum expended ($1,288,355.28) was in great part
met by the fees, which amounted to $899,652.67.

The State Department has not sole authority for the administration of
foreign affairs, for the consideration and approval of the Senate is
required, not only regarding nominations to diplomatic and consular posts
made by the President, but also regarding treaties made with foreign
powers before they can be ratified. It is fortunate, however, that the
Senate can only affirm or reject a treaty; but, owing to the wording of
the article of our Constitution, which says that the President “with the
_consent and advice_ of the Senate shall conclude treaties,” the Senate
considers that it has the right to amend a treaty already negotiated, a
practice which causes great difficulty, as frequently a Senator to whom
the subject under discussion is not quite clear, insists on the addition
of two or three words to an instrument, which causes a long delay and
frequently protracted negotiations. Treaties are discussed in secret
session, partly because the Senate is acting as a privy council to the
President, and partly because, if the debates were open, things might be
said which would give offense to foreign governments. As to this latter
point, I can only observe that the practice of debating a treaty in open
session has not been found to work badly in those countries in which it
is the habit.

A feeling of jealousy has been growing up between the House of
Representatives and the Senate, and has become very evident during the
last few months, the House maintaining that, as it alone was empowered
to initiate measures touching the revenue, the President had no right to
negotiate a commercial treaty without previously consulting that body.
I do not think that this contention is supported by the Constitution,
but at the same time the practice of our government has changed so much
of recent years, in giving larger and larger powers to the lower House,
that it is not without some reason that such a view is supported. In
order to obviate such disputes, the Secretary of the State Department,
before making a commercial treaty and engaging the country in a new
commercial system, should, as was done in the negotiation of the Mexican
treaty, ask Congress for authority to conclude it. Again, the powers
allowed by the Senate to its standing committees form another obstacle
to the ratification of treaties, since it is impossible, except by an
actual vote of the Senate, to compel the committee to report to the full
Senate a treaty which has already been referred to it for consideration.
In the Senate committees are elected; in the House they are named by
the Speaker. The sub-committee of three, which is in charge of the
appropriations for the diplomatic and consular service, is generally
named by the chairman of the Committee on Appropriations, and in
nine cases out of ten is composed of persons possessing no previous
acquaintance with the subject. To the sub-committee are presented the
estimates made up by the Secretary of State, and a bill is then prepared.
It can raise a grade here, establish a consul there, pare down a salary
in one place, or abolish a mission in another. Of course some of the
changes made by this sub-committee are often very excellent, and even
necessary but its main idea seems to be to reduce the appropriation to
the lowest limit from motives of economy; not that the nation at large
cared for a saving of ten or twenty thousand dollars, but because by
gaining the reputation of being economical, constituents might believe
its members worthy of a new election. The bill is next reported to the
House, where party strength is drilled to support the committees. Every
amendment is there voted down, for the men whose salaries are sometimes
retroactively voted down, are too far away to be heard. From the House
the bill is passed to the Senate. The general theory of the Senate
committees is to reject every change made by the House, and to hold
pretty closely to the law of the last Congress, restoring what had been
omitted, and adding some appropriations for unforeseen expenses, secret
service money, or as technically expressed, for “expenses in carrying out
the Neutrality Act,” etc. The Senate generally passes the amended bill
with slight debate, except in unusual cases. The House next, on motion
of the sub-committee, is wont to reject without debate all the Senate
amendments, and very often suggests a committee of conference. In like
manner the Senate refuses to recede from its amendments, and accepts the
conference. Then a secret meeting is held of the two sub-committees,
who bargain with each other, giving and taking, each yielding part, and
reporting the results to their respective houses in such a technical form
that it is impossible to understand it without a careful examination of
all the papers. This the clerk reads hastily, and it is passed without
debate, often containing new matter never before proposed in the open
House. I am not blaming either body, but simply explaining a system which
is becoming the habitual way of passing all appropriation bills. How can
an already underpaid consul perform his duties properly and vigorously,
when every few months he has to consider the chances of having his salary
cut down, or when engaged in an important investigation by order of his
government, he is quietly informed that his salary ceased a month or six
weeks before?

The interests of our country demand that our diplomatic and consular
service should be fixed by a general law, subject of course to necessary
changes, to be recommended by the department, and not undergo this annual
tinkering, to which no other branch of the government and no other class
of officials are subjected.

Let us next consider the duties of the agents of the government under the
control of the State Department, which belongs to one of two classes,
those in the consular and those in the diplomatic service.

Consuls differ from diplomatic agents (by whatever name they may be
known), in that while the latter are the representatives of one state or
government to another, consuls are the representatives of the individuals
of the nation sending them, empowered to protect individual interests,
and to procure for their fellow-citizens, as far as possible, the same
protection to their rights that they enjoy at home. They represent
commercial interests only. They can address themselves directly to
the local authorities when the rights of their fellow-citizens are
infringed, but if redress be not given, they can not apply to the
supreme government, except in cases specially provided for by treaty.
They must refer the matter to legation or their own government. In other
words they have _no_ diplomatic or representative rights, powers or
privileges. Formerly consuls had power as arbitrators, but gradually
the legal jurisdiction over disputes was withdrawn in nearly all except
non-Christian countries, although for purposes of wills or intestate
property this jurisdiction has still been in some measure preserved.
With regard to maritime matters the case is different; and here, for the
purpose of avoiding protracted disputes in the courts of the country, the
consuls are still allowed large jurisdiction. This is nowadays in most
cases regulated by special treaties.

Consuls are in a certain way charged with watching over the execution
of treaties, for they must protect any of their countrymen whose rights
are invaded, and must immediately bring to the attention of their
government any such infringement. In general, they observe the movements
of naval forces of all nations on the coast near the port in which
they are placed, and it is their duty also to watch over the dignity
of their own country in maintaining the rights of their flag. Not only
are they obliged to give aid, advice, and assistance to the ships of
their commercial marine, but they should in their correspondence with
their government report all events touching the navigation, the various
changes in the commerce of the countries where they live, and especially
anything touching the special commerce with the country which sends them.
In fine, they are bound to keep pace with the state and progress of
manufactures, the rise of new branches of industry, and in general, the
increase or diminution of the public wealth, taking especial care to be
well acquainted with all matters where other countries may gain advantage
over their own. They are given a sort of police jurisdiction over the
commercial vessels of their own country; they are generally charged with
the duty of investigating shipwrecks and saving property from the wrecked
or stranded vessels; with all disputes between captains and sailors; with
arresting deserters; and with sending back shipwrecked or discharged
seamen. In time of war their duties in these respects are still more
important, for they are obliged, so far as the international law, the
special treaties, or the laws of the country in which they are placed
will permit them, to protect at all hazard the commercial and naval
interests of their country against arbitrary acts, whether committed by
the country to which they are sent, or by the nation at war with it.

On the death of one of their countrymen they in general take possession
of his effects, and in case of property left in the country, manage,
keep, and dispose of it for the benefit of the heirs. They are charged,
beside, with notarial duties of all kinds, and in most cases they are the
only authorities who can validate legal instruments between citizens of
their country, or others to be used at home.

In addition to the general duties of a consul various special duties are
imposed on American consuls by our tariff system, which do not generally
exist in the services of other countries.

It is necessary for our consuls to verify in triplicate every invoice of
goods sent to the United States. Not only is he obliged to take the oaths
of the manufacturer or exporter, but he is expected to have a special
knowledge of the trade of the place and of the actual value of the goods,
so that he can control the statements made to him; for our system does
not accept the valuations of goods always at the actual price paid for
them, but at the market value of the place where they are manufactured
or chiefly sold. Besides keeping a number of official records,
registers, and fee books, carrying on his ordinary correspondence with
the Department of State, and carefully prescribed forms relating to the
business of his office, and of everything of interest of a commercial
nature to the government, the consul is obliged to make quarterly,
semi-annual and annual returns, both to the State Department and to the
Treasury. He must, for instance, at the end of each quarter give a digest
of the invoices verified by him during that period; of the arrivals and
departures of American vessels, a return nowadays exceedingly simple;
of deceased American citizens; a record of his notarial services, or
unofficial fees; a summary of the whole consular business; and, in case
the consul has extraterritorial jurisdiction, a return of the business of
the consular coast, and also a record of his official fees.

Still other duties are the submitting of quarterly, semi-annual, and
annual reports. The consul at Shanghai has such duties placed upon him
as give him supervisory control over all consulates in China, vest him
with semi-diplomatic powers, cause him to participate in the municipal
government of the foreign settlement, make him a judge in civil causes,
give him charge of the gaol in which American prisoners are confined,
constitute him judge of a criminal court, of a court of probate and
divorce, of an equity and _nisi prius_ court, appoint him United States
postmaster, give him the duties of a seaport consulate, and place under
his control the protection of the revenue of his government.

Diplomats are agents of a higher class and with different functions.
According to Caloo, who is now generally accepted as the best modern
writer of international law, diplomacy is the science of the relations
existing between different states, such as result from their reciprocal
interests, the principles of international law, and the stipulations of
treaties and conventions; or, more concisely, diplomacy is the science
of relations, or simply the art of negotiations. According to Caloo, the
essential nature of diplomacy is to assure the well-being of peoples,
to maintain between them peace and good harmony, while guaranteeing the
safety, the tranquility, and the dignity of each of them. The part played
by diplomatic agents consists principally in conducting negotiations
relative to these important objects, in watching over the execution of
treaties which follow from them, in preventing anything which might
injure the interests of their fellow-citizens in the countries where they
reside, and in protecting those of them who may be obliged to ask for
their assistance. According to rules adopted by the Congress in Vienna in
1815, diplomatic agents were divided into three classes: (1) Ambassadors,
legates, or nuncios; these two latter being sent only by the Pope;
(2) Envoys, ministers plenipotentiary, or other persons accredited to
a sovereign or sovereign state; and, (3) _Chargés d’Affaires_, who are
accredited only to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. According to the
old custom, ambassadors represented the person of the sovereign, and
accordingly enjoyed higher ceremonial honors than were paid to other
diplomatic agents. They could also address themselves personally to the
sovereign or chief magistrate of the country to which they were sent for
matters of business, instead of having to negotiate with the Ministers of
Foreign Affairs. Nowadays ambassadors differ from other diplomatic agents
only in rank and precedence. The United States having no ambassadors, and
but few envoys and ministers plenipotentiary, does not always receive
equal privileges of rank with some other countries. Our interests
certainly demand that in every country we should be represented by agents
of the highest title known or accepted there. More questions are settled
by a few informal words at a dinner table than by a formal process of
correspondence, although, of course, when great principles are at stake
a formal mode of procedure is necessary. It is therefore evidently to be
desired that diplomatic agents in a given place should be of equal rank
and on a friendly footing with each other.

There are several cases in which the Minister of the United States, if he
had more official authority, could manage to have matters arranged which
ultimately affect our interests. At Constantinople, for instance, where
there is an effort to undermine the treaty rights of all foreigners,
the ambassadors have of late adopted the habit of meeting one another
in an unofficial way, and of laying down rules and taking action
regarding extraterritorial matters, which are then proposed to the rest
of the diplomatic body. In general, the representatives of the smaller
states are asked for their approval or dissent, but given no chance
to suggest or argue. Three years ago, indeed, our government found it
necessary to protest against this course, for it was beginning to be
tacitly understood that only the ambassadors of what were called the
Signatory Powers—those who were represented at the Congress in Berlin in
1878—should have any voice in matters which affected the interests of all
foreigners in Turkey. Our protest had the theoretical result of bringing
about occasional conferences of all foreign representatives, but the
practice remains much as before.

Foreign ministers of the United States should be enabled to live in a
style suitable to their rank. Nor is this simply a question of display,
but for a minister to be useful he must make acquaintance with the
leading persons of the country, and entertain them at his house.

The necessary qualifications for employment in the diplomatic service
are a knowledge of French, and generally at least of one other language;
a good acquaintance with history, treaties and international law. It
is also necessary that he be a gentleman: _i. e._, acquainted with the
ways of the world, and the usages and manners of the best society in
each capital in which he is expected to move. The word “gentleman” does
not necessarily imply a man of good birth, or belonging to a well known
family, although the son or grandson of the President of the United
States would always have more credit and influence in the place to which
he was sent than one of whom nothing was known.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is hard to create among a Christian people, enthusiasm for an infidel,
however talented he may have been, or however much good he may have done;
for his revelation to man, even if true, is an unwelcome and painful
revelation, adding nothing to his happiness or comfort in life or in
death; while the faith of the believer is an inspiring one, filling
his life with the sunshine of hope, and surrounding it with a halo of
imperishable glory. Most people have an instinctive dread of the man who
with ruthless hand, attempts to destroy all those sacred hopes and fears
which have been instilled into their minds by their nearest and dearest
benefactor, their mother.—_“How to Get On in the World,” by Robert



When I was buying my ticket at Tuticorin for Madura, the station agent
was kind enough to say:

“Don’t you know there is cholera in Madura?”

“What, real Asiatic cholera?”

“It’s real Asiatic cholera, and nothing else,” he answered.

“I have not heard it before,” I replied. “I have only this moment landed
from the steamer ‘Nerbudda,’ and have had no news of any kind. Many

“Oh, no. Nothing compared with last year. Five thousand died during the
season. Only about ten die a day just now, and we don’t consider that

I mused a moment on the mortality of ten cholera patients a day in a
place of fifty thousand, and then asked: “Do you think it safe to go?”

“I can’t answer that. It all depends.”

Two facts now came to my relief. One was, that few people in India think
cholera contagious. There are no separate hospitals for such cases.
Cholera patients are put in the same wards with patients suffering from
fever and other diseases. The other fact was, that two weeks before,
when I was in Puna, there had been a cholera case in the native bazar,
and yet I had a most pleasant ride through that part of the city, and
had suffered no harm, and saw no alarm anywhere. The truth is, nobody
thinks of cholera as any more likely to happen than any mild disease. Dr.
Waugh told me only yesterday that cholera prevailed more or less in all
Indian towns, but that nobody minded it. It might be next door, but it
frightened no one. The only thing is to watch its beginning, and manage
it, as you can, with care and caution. Another is, to take care of one’s
diet. This must be said, however, that when cholera does come, and its
first stage is neglected, the collapse is very sudden.

Taking all things together it did not seem much of a risk to spend my
intervening day, before meeting an engagement at Bangelore, in the
Mysore, in making a halt in Madura, and using my only opportunity to see
the famous Pagoda there—the largest, not only in India, but in the world.

Long before reaching Madura one can see the great towers which rise above
the Pagoda, and dominate not alone the city, but the whole surrounding
country. In many of the Indian cities the temple is in the suburbs, and
even completely alone, in the country, having been left by the drift of
the population far out into other directions. But this is not the case in
Madura. The Pagoda is in the very heart of the old city. The bazars lead
directly toward it, and overflow into it. It is the city in miniature,
with its dirt, ill odors, poverty, wealth, superstition, and infamous
idolatry. All the surging tide of tradesmen drifts toward and about
it. No adequate conception of an Indian temple can be formed from any
European illustration of sacred places. Perhaps the Troitskoi Monastery
in Russia, where many cathedrals are grouped around one central sacred
place, making the whole a very Canterbury, is as near an approach to an
Indian temple and its spaces as can be found anywhere west of Asia.

Madura has long been celebrated for this Pagoda. There are conflicting
opinions as to its antiquity. It is probable that the place itself was
regarded sacred, and was the site of a temple long before a city was
built here. It is not unlikely that the temple was the first building,
and that the city grew out of it, and all about it. The immense structure
gives clear evidence of its own antiquity. It was built in the third
century before the Christian era, by King Kula Shekhara. It is evidently
a case where the city has sprung into life from religious associations,
and become the capital of a large territory. Some parts of the Pagoda
are modern, and were built by Nurmala Nark, in the former half of the
seventeenth century, but one can easily distinguish the newer from the
older. The effect, throughout, is one of great and undisturbed antiquity.

The Pagoda space is an immense parallelogram, extending 744 feet from
east to west, and 847 feet from north to south. This area is enclosed
by a light wall, and is flanked, at various points, by nine colossal
towers. These towers are of peculiar structure, all after the same model,
and so disposed toward each other as to form a symmetrical combination.
Each constitutes a kind of gateway, for entrance from different sides
of the wall. As you enter you find yourself passing through a great
open corridor. The _gopura_ is shaped like a tent, and on every side is
ornamented with carvings. These represent the fabulous doings of the god
Shiva and his wife, Minakshi, and ascend in lessening rows, or stories,
until the apex is reached, which is sharp and curved, and reminds one of
the general form of an old Roman gallery. The colors of these _gopuras_
are very rich, and, in the case of several, shine like fine tiling, or
even gay enamel. The blue is especially rich, and is fairly dazzling
in the bright sunlight. While Shiva is the god to whom the temple is
supposed to have been dedicated, the more frequent representations of his
wife Minakshi prove her to be the favorite of the people.


Two _gopuras_ constitute the great entrances. Through one of these I
went, with a crowd of about fifty ill-clad beggars following me. They
held high carnival as they passed around and against me, and called for
alms. I noticed many sleepers in the darker corners, in various parts
of the temple spaces. They lie in every position. It seems a habit of
the Maduran when he gets thoroughly tired in his tent, or in the bazar,
to drop into this temple and fall down for a good nap at the feet of
Shiva, or some other idol, for Madura is a spot which for ages has been
held strangely sacred by the Hindoo worshiper. Having passed through the
_gopura_, and completed the passage of the great corridor, you see the
beginnings only of this wonderful temple. There stretch out before you
great reaches of passages, and halls, and still farther corridors, in
all possible directions. But for my safe guide, who added to his other
duties the good one of keeping off the crowd of ragged and starving and
ill-smelling beggars with a stout bamboo rod, I should have lost my way
at once. At your right you see an immense hall, the Hall of One Thousand
Columns, which extends far away until it is lost in such dark and distant
spaces as I cared not to explore. But, beyond it—for I came back that
way—there is a special temple sacred to the ruling god, Shiva. At your
left are venders of images, sweetmeats, toys, and various other articles,
which, for some reason, are permitted to be sold within the sacred walls.
The men who sell them are squatted over the floor, on mats of palm,
and their wares lie about them. Think of a seller of small wares, in a
temple, sitting or standing, with his goods arranged on a counter or row
of shelves! Such a thing would be preposterous beyond measure. The drift
is downward. No Hindoo will stand if he can possibly drop on the floor.
He doubles up his legs under him. That is his normal position. He may
be talking with you this moment, and as much interested in standing or
walking as any one. But a sudden change comes over him. Down he drops,
and no boy ever closed the two blades of a jack-knife more quickly than
the Hindoo doubles himself up, either on the temple floor, or at the side
of the street, or in his own doorway. And there he can sit by the hour,
nay, the whole day, and be as calm as the serene face of Buddha himself.

Perhaps these sellers in the Madura Pagoda have some ancestral claim
on the favors of the authorities, by which they receive the privilege
of spreading out their wares in the holy place. Over your head there
flies about a flock of doves. They are sacred, and woe to the hand that
would hurt a feather on their sweet heads! The worshipers feed them.
It is a sacred privilege. Yonder, to your left, three sacred elephants
are feeding and frisking their trunks about as if they really knew that
they were picking up great wisps of straw and hay within the most holy
place in all this region. Come, I must hasten, or their priestly keepers
will loosen the chains of one of them in a trice, and have the mammoth
dropping down on all fours, and pulling me up on his back, to take an
elephant ride through this labyrinth of marvels. Imagine the absurdity
of an elephant ride on a temple floor! Yet that is what you can do here,
and take a long promenade, and never have him repeat his pathway. I have
had two elephant rides, and want no more for a decade, at least. But by
going through this first doorway I get away from the venders, and the
elephants, and pass out of sight of the Hall of a Thousand Columns, and
its great, interminable spaces. Here one is in a corridor nearly two
hundred feet long, with pillars groaning beneath a wealth of sculptured
images. Now comes a brazen door. The frame is vast and heavy, and is
entirely surrounded with brazen lamps, all of which are lighted during a
festive season, perhaps the _Tailotsava_, “the oil festival.”

Monier Williams happened to visit the Madura Pagoda at the time of the
“oil festival,” and thus describes the wretched scene: “A coarse image
of the goddess (Minakshi), profusely decorated with jewels, and having a
high head-dress of hair, was carried in the center of a long procession,
on a canopied throne, borne by eight Brahmans, to a platform in the
magnificent hall, opposite the temple. There the ceremony of undressing
the idol, removing its ornaments, anointing its head with oil, bathing,
redecorating and redressing it was gone through, and shouting, singing,
beating of tom-toms, waving of lights and cowries, ringing of bells, and
deafening discord from forty or fifty so-called musical instruments,
each played by a man who did his best to overpower the sound of all the
others combined. At the head of the procession was borne an image of
Ganesa. Then followed three elephants, a long line of priests, musicians,
attendants bearing cowries and umbrellas, with a troop of dancing girls
bringing up the rear.

“No sight I witnessed in India made me more sick at heart than this.
It presented a sad example of the utterly debasing character of the
idolatry which, notwithstanding the counteracting influences of
education and Christianity, still enslaves the masses of the population,
deadening their intellects, corrupting their imaginations, warping their
affections, perverting their consciences, and disfiguring the fair soil
of a beautiful country with hideous usages and practices unsanctioned by
even their own minds and works.”—“Religious Thought and Life in India.”
Part I, pp. 442-443.

You are now introduced into a darker corridor, and then again into a
broad and pillared space, where the columns are sculptured, being cut
through and through into figures of dancing gods, like Shiva when he
played his flute to the shepherds. You now look out upon a little sheet
of water with a miniature temple in the middle of it. This is the
Lake of the Golden Lilies. Near by it is the little chapel where Queen
Mangammal’s subjects starved her to death in 1706, having placed food
so near that she could see and smell it, but not taste it. We now enter
another department of the temple; above there are stone images, up around
the pillars, in all corners, and hanging down over you wherever you go,
near walls or archways. These images are not grave and majestic, but,
in the main, grotesque, bacchanalian, in fantastic attitudes, and often
combining the bodies of man and beast. They represent, for the most
part, the escapades of Shiva. Every now and then one comes to a shrine,
where worshipers lie prostrate before it, and remain motionless for a
long time. No one knows how long it has taken these poor dusty pilgrims
to reach this sacred place. Perhaps they have been three months on the
journey. They come from the very base of the Himalayas, or the borders of
Thibet, and now that they have reached the end of their pilgrimage, would
die with a happy heart. There are several gold plated images, veiled from
view, which represent the god Shiva, or his wife, in some part of their
marvelous career. The representations in stone, both of men and the brute
world, are frequent everywhere. Elephants, horses, cattle, and every kind
of animal held sacred in the Hindoo mythology, are cut out of stone, and
made to portray the supposed divine attributes of Shiva and his wife.
Here, too, are the very _vehanas_, or great chariots, plated with gold,
in which the god and his wife are taken out on special days in the year,
to ride. Beside these there are silver litters, which serve the same
divine purpose on other days.

One grows weary of the procession of splendid but gross images and idols
in this vast space. Now you are out for a time in the open air, where
a vacancy has been left in the roof, and the beautiful sky throws down
its blessed sunlight upon this terrible picture of idolatry. But very
soon you are brought again under the shadowing and lofty ceiling, and
before you are aware of it, you are almost lost in a dark labyrinth of
sculptured pillars, black idols in gold wrappings, dusty and absorbed
pilgrims, cheerful doves, and the constant crowd of men and boys, who
follow you, either to sell you their sweets, or beg for your loose
coppers. All at once you come out from a corridor to the marble steps
of a miniature lake. Be careful now. Only the real Hindoo dares to step
down into its waters. For every drop is sacred, and must touch only the
skin of Shiva’s children. Over the calm surface the towers stand as
gay sentinels, from century to century. Turning again, you must look
carefully, or you will tread upon a sleeping form, which has dropped
in from the hot air, and let fall its burden, and eaten its crust, and
now rests an hour. There is a mother, with a nose-ring so large that it
hangs down over her mouth, and she must eat through it, or starve. Her
ankles are encircled by heavy silver anklets, cut like serpents. Her toes
are glittering with jeweled rings. She has led her child up before an
image of Shiva’s wife, and is explaining what it all means. Poor woman!
Little she knows the truth. The One Name above all others she has never
once heard. Here is a dwarf, who stands beside a shrine, and holds out
his withered hand for an _anna_. Here, in a place where the statuary has
given way to the wear of ages, are workmen in stone, who are making new
pillars, with sculptured flutings, to take the place of the old. All the
work, every stroke of mallet and chisel, must be done right here, where
everything is holy, and Shiva smiles down upon the labor.

       *       *       *       *       *

ANECDOTE OF JERROLD.—His heart was as kindly a one as ever beat in a
human bosom; and his hand most liberal, and often far more liberal
than his means might have justified. He was once asked by a literary
acquaintance, whether he had the courage to lend him a guinea. “Oh, yes,”
he replied, “I’ve got the courage; but I haven’t got the guinea.” He had
always the courage to do a kind action, and when he had the guinea it was
always at the command of the suffering, especially if the sufferer was an
honest laborer in the field of literature.—“_Personal Traits of British


BY PROF. M. B. GOFF, Western University of Pennsylvania.


Although at the time these lines are written the sun has not in his
northern course reached the equator, and with us here in the north the
ground is covered with snow, yet by the time our readers see these words
in print a great change will have taken place in the face of nature; the
beautiful green of the winter wheat will cover the fields, the tulips
and hyacinths exhibit their brilliant colors, and our forests begin
to display their refreshing foliage, and “Old Sol” himself will have
completed half his journey to the tropics and have measured for us many
days of the “little span” allotted to the life of man.

    “Men may come and men may go,
    But I go on forever.”

And thus are we ever reminded of the “flight of time.” The days grow
longer and the shadows shorter; but “all too soon” the shadows begin
again to lengthen and the nights increase. Of this, perhaps, we should
not complain; for the many long days of summer give us ample opportunity
to perform our duties during the “noble sunlight,” and we shall probably
be glad of the rest that comes with the “shortening hours.”

During May our time is slow, the sun coming to the meridian about three
minutes before noon, as indicated by our clocks. Sunrise occurs at 4:58,
4:42, and 4:32 a. m., on the 1st, 16th, and 30th, respectively, while
sunset is at 6:55, 7:10, and 7:22 p. m. on the corresponding days. Day
breaks on the 16th at 2:43 a. m., and twilight ends at 9:09 p. m., giving
eighteen hours and twenty-seven minutes from “early dawn to dewy eve.”
The length of day varies from thirteen hours fifty-seven minutes to
fourteen hours fifty minutes. Increase in right ascension, north 6° 36′.


Phases occur as follows: last quarter, on 7th, at 3:35 a. m.; new moon,
14th, at 10:09 a. m.; first quarter, 21st, 12:37 a. m.; full moon, 28th,
3:22 p. m. Rises on the 1st, at 9:16 p. m.; sets on the 16th at 9:29 p.
m.; rises on the 30th at 8:49 p. m. Farthest from the earth (in apogee)
on the 4th, at 5:18 a. m., and again on the 31st, at 6:54 p. m. Nearest
to earth (in perigee) on the 16th, at 4:54 a. m. In latitude 41° 30′,
least elevation on the 3d, amounting to 30° 11′ 56″, and again on the
30th, amounting to 30° 5′. Greatest elevation on the 17th, equal to 66°
51′ 38″.


Affords sharp-eyed early risers before and after the 25th, a few days’
opportunity to get a glimpse of his countenance, as he reaches his
greatest western elongation at 7:00 a. m. of the above named date. On the
11th, at 4:00 a. m., he is farthest from the sun; same date, at 2:00 p.
m., stationary; on the 12th, at 10:59 p. m., 22′ south of the moon; on
13th, at 3:00 a. m., 2° 27′ south of Mars, and again on the 30th, at 4:00
p. m., 2° 56′ south of same planet. Motion 2° 27′ 12″ retrograde up to
the 11th; and from 11th to end of the month, 14° 54′ 35″ direct. Diameter
diminishes from 12″ on the 1st to 7.4″ on the 31st. The times of his
rising are as follows: On the 1st, 4:49 a. m.; on the 16th, 3:59 a. m.;
and on the 30th, 3:36 a. m.


During the month the beauty of this planet is quite overshadowed by the
superior light of the sun. Her times of rising and setting are nearly his
own, and her diameter ranges from 9.8″ to 10″. On the 4th, about noon,
the sun is between her and the earth (in superior conjunction). On the
11th, at 6:00 p. m., she is 1° 15′ north of Neptune; on the 14th, at
1:17 p. m., 3° 47′ north of the moon; motion direct, amounting to 39° 15′
47″. On the 1st, she rises at 5:05 a. m., and sets at 6:45 p. m.; and on
the 16th, rises at 4:59 a. m., sets at 7:21 p. m.; on the 30th, rises at
5:03 a. m., sets at 7:53 p. m.


Like Venus, keeps near the sun during the entire month, rising on the
1st at 4:24 a. m.; on the 16th, at 3:43 a. m., and on the 30th, at 3:25
a. m., and setting on the corresponding days at 5:22, 5:21, and 5:19
p. m. respectively. His diameter is 4.4″, and his motion 22° 14′ 33.6″
eastwardly (direct). On the 12th, at 10:55 p. m., he is 2° 3′ north of
the moon; on the 30th, at 4:00 p. m., 2° 56′ north of Mercury.


Now that Venus “hides her diminished head,” “does himself proud,”
attracting the eye of the most casual observer. His proximity to the star
_Alpha Leonis_ (Regulus), particularly on the 30th, when he is about
two thirds of a degree north of the latter, detracts nothing from his
prominence; but on the other hand, rather renders him more conspicuous.
On the 17th, at 10:00 a. m., he is just 90° east of the sun; and on the
20th, at 9:37 p. m., 4° 17′ north of the moon. His diameter decreases
during the month from 37.2″ to 34.2″ and he makes a direct advance of 2°
3′ 51″. On the 1st, he rises at 12:25 p. m., and sets next morning at
2:03; on the 16th, he rises at 11:30 a. m., and sets on the 17th at 1:04
a. m.; on the 30th, rises at 10:42 a. m., and sets at 12:14 a. m. on the


Those who wish to see in all his grandeur this planet with his rings,
must not longer delay. Each day brings him nearer the sun, so that by
the close of the month his time of setting is only about one hour after
sunset. His diameter decreases four tenths of a second of arc, and his
motion is 3° 44′ direct. On the 16th, at 9:35 a. m., he is 4° 2′ north of
the moon. He rises on the 1st at 7:23 a. m. and sets at 10:05 p. m.; on
the 16th, rises at 6:31 a. m., sets at 9:15 p. m.; on the 30th, rises at
5:44 a. m., sets at 8:28 p. m.


This planet will be an evening star, and afford a fine opportunity for
observation to those who have the means at hand profitably to view it.
Our limited knowledge of its physical properties make it, to the ordinary
observer, a matter of little interest. It rises on the 1st at 3:15 p. m.,
and sets on the 2nd at 3:21 a. m.; on the 16th, it rises at 2:15 p. m.,
and sets at 2:21 the next morning; on the 30th, it rises at 1:18 p. m.
and sets on the 31st at 1:26 a. m. It maintains the same diameter, 3.8″,
throughout the month, and makes a direct motion of 2° 13′ 45″. On the
23d, at 4:38 a. m., will be 1° 11′ north of the moon.


And now we come to the “last but not least,” by any means, of our
planets—a planet, however, that interests us but very little, as we
can only see it through a quite powerful telescope, and then only as a
small, pale disk. Yet its movements are ascertained and recorded just
as those are of other planets, and so far as we know them, we are just
as confident of the obtained results. As much so as we are of the some
two hundred and twenty small bodies that are so much nearer to us, whose
orbits lie between that of Mars and that of Jupiter; more confident
than we are of the orbits of those erratic bodies we call _comets_,
which seem to come and go at pleasure, and were formerly the terror
of all who beheld them; and of those other bodies known as _meteors_,
_meteorites_, or _aerolites_, which not only terrify those who behold
them, but frequently injure and destroy the beings with which they come
in contact. In fact, we know that Neptune, although apparently so small,
is a globe 34,500 miles in diameter, and so far away as to do us no harm,
while there _may_ be thousands of little invisible globes flying around
our earth waiting for some favorable opportunity to break away from their
restraints and hurl themselves, as those did at Stannern in 1812, or at
Orgueil, in France, in 1864, upon our devoted heads or our cherished
treasures. Let us, then, respect our obscure and distant friend, with
whom we are definitely acquainted, and record his acts as follows: For
the first part of the month he will be an evening star; from the 13th, on
which date he will be in conjunction with the sun, he will be a morning
star; and on the 14th, at 7:47 a. m., will be 2° 15′ north of the moon.
His motion will be direct, and amount to 1° 10′; his diameter 2.5″. On
the 11th, at 6:00 p. m., he will be 1° 15′ south of Venus. On the 1st he
will rise at 5:44 a. m. and set at 7:42 p. m.; on the 16th, rise at 4:48
a. m., set at 6:48 p. m.; on the 30th, rise at 3:54 a. m., set at 5:34 p.




    “The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber whose windows
    opened towards the sunrising; the name of the chamber was
    Peace, where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and
    sang.”—_John Bunyan._

It is impossible to treat of house furnishing and decoration without some
allusion to what hygiene requires of the house builder. In the properly
constructed house the bedroom will be light, airy, and if possible,
sunny, like the pilgrim’s chamber. The bedroom windows should not be so
heavily hung with curtains as to obstruct the free passage of air. Thin
curtains of chintz or muslin are better for sleeping rooms than heavily
lined damask or cretonne, as sunlight and pure air are bedroom essentials.

The cheapest and most convenient treatment for the wall is paper hanging;
but Dr. Richardson, the well known English writer of house and health
papers, inveighs against wall paper upon bedroom walls, and specially
against the practice of papering one layer over another, on the ground
that germs of disease are liable to be cased up behind wall paper, and to
remain a source of danger in after years. No doubt a painted or washable
surface is best from a hygienic point of view, but with proper care paper
can be risked.

Light, airy patterns are preferable, of varying tints, but the same
general color as the ground, for the bedroom should never be gloomy,
and the less sunshine it gets from without the more sunny should be the
paper that decks its walls. Violent contrasts in color, and spotty or
staring designs are a source of irritating annoyance to the sick. Let the
purchaser, in selecting wall paper, stand at a distance of a dozen feet
or so and look with half closed eyes, and he will get much more of the
general effect, and will see more as the invalid will who may occupy the
room when the paper is hung.

Then, in the matter of drainage and plumbing, there has been a great
overturning in the past few years. People began to discover, about ten
years ago, that their modern improvements were followed by a long train
of sore throats, diphtheria, and typhoid fevers, and the wise householder
was led to study the various systems of pipes and drains. Thanks to our
boards of health, and to the efforts and writings of such men as Col.
Waring, much has been done to improve and perfect the drainage of city
houses, but in spite of the advance that has been made in this direction,
modern conveniences often prove in the end to be inconvenient, if not
pernicious, and the fewer set washbowls and water closets with which our
houses are furnished the safer we may feel. With faucets for hot and cold
water on each floor from which to replenish the water jugs, no reasonable
servant could complain of the extra drudgery, much less the sensible
woman who “does her own work,” and all could sleep sounder at night
without fear of being haunted by any of those frightful demons of the
drain pipe which were represented in a number of _Harper’s Weekly_ some
years ago, as issuing from a set washbowl and hovering over the innocent

Upon this point all the writers upon house decoration are as one, and Mr.
Cook, in his “House Beautiful” says: “Seeing no certain way to prevent
the evil so long as drain pipes are allowed in bedrooms, many people
nowadays are giving up fixed washstands altogether, and substituting the
old fashioned arrangement of a movable piece of furniture, with movable
apparatus, the water brought in pitchers, and the slops carried away in
their native slop jars.” Whether healthier or not, I think there can be
no doubt that the old way is more comfortable by far.

Setting both health and comfort to one side for a moment, there can be
no doubt that the movable washstand, with its paraphernalia of bowls and
pitchers, is a more sightly and decorative object in the bedroom than
any set washbowl arrangement that has yet been contrived. Of course I am
referring to the introduction of waste pipes into the bedroom proper, not
to toilet or bath-rooms outside its walls.

In cold weather the bedroom air should be a little cooler, perhaps, than
that of the living rooms of the house, but not many degrees lower.

Our fathers and mothers, when boys and girls, slept in rooms freezing
cold, and broke the ice in their water pitchers in the morning; but they
lived in spite of this, not because of it. There is a deal of loose
thinking on this subject. Cold air is no healthier than warm. It is
impure air, warm or cold, that is unhealthy, the cold being specially
pernicious; witness the church influenza, that most obstinate and
unconquerable of all colds, because contracted by sitting in a chilling
atmosphere after the body’s vitality has been reduced through breathing
air that has not been renewed since the last service held in the room.

There was a clever story called “Lizzie Wilson,” published in _Littell’s
Living Age_, years ago, in which a clergyman’s poor widow is represented
as bringing up satisfactorily, through many straits, a family of young
children. As their bedrooms were not heated, they had a joint dressing
room, where the boy of the household first lighted the fire, and then
dressed himself, his mother and sisters occupying the room later, in
turn. This indulgence in the way of comfort, which might have been deemed
an extravagance by others as poor as themselves, was paid for by going
without dessert three days of the week; and the children, when cosily
warming their backs before the dressing room fire, were pleased to call
it “taking a slice of pudding.” A wise household economy of this sort,
less pudding and pie and more fires, would not be amiss in many American
homes. To keep one room intolerably hot, and all others without any heat,
is a wasteful retrenchment, which must be paid for in doctors’ bills and

The question of single or double beds is also one of some hygienic
importance. When a room is to be occupied by more than one person,
the European custom of placing two single beds side by side has great
advantage over the English double bed fashion. I have known mothers to
assert that they observed a marked improvement in the health and temper
of nervous, irritable children, after the little ones had been removed to
single beds, where they could rest without disturbance from a bedfellow;
and no one doubts that sickly or delicate people should occupy single

As to color, I confess to a stout prejudice against getting up rooms all
in one hue. I would banish altogether the young-ladyish dainty pink or
blue room, and confine the green room to the theater. It is very hard
to so manage a symphony in blue, for example, that it shall be truly
symphonious. The cretonne furniture covers are apt to contain some
analine dyes that fade to forlorn and sickly hues in place of their
original smartness. The blue of the wall paper will never agree with that
of the carpet, and the cheap paper cambric or stouter jean that peeps
through the muslin toilet cover grows paler with age, and each passing
day increases the general discord.

White rooms with snowy and spotless walls, curtains and bedcovers, such
as certain nun-like story-book young ladies affect, are chilling in the
extreme. Their immaculate purity alone renders them endurable, and even
then the obtrusiveness of their Dutch-like cleanliness is exasperating. A
dingy white room is even more ugly than an ill-assorted blue one.

If the walls are plain, let the curtains be figured with various colors;
if the walls are papered with figured polychrome hangings, let the
curtains be plain, but harmonizing with some one color of the wall paper.
That same color can be emphasized and repeated in carpet, rugs, and table
or bureau cover, but no one color should be used to the exclusion of all
others, as the eye wearies of neutral tints unrelieved by positive color
without a large proportion of neutral tinted space.

A bedroom should look as if intended for the use of its occupants.
Much millinery, quilled and ruffled muslin, and toilet tables in fine
petticoats are only allowable in the room of a dainty young girl who
has plenty of time to spend in renewing and freshening up her ephemeral
finery, or in a guest chamber that is seldom used, and is thus made to
look pretty at slight expense. Knick-knackeries of this sort provoke the
righteous wrath of sturdy men, and they are quite out of taste in that
most home-like of all gathering places, the mother’s room. For the name
of that chamber should always be Peace and Comfort. It should be of all
bedrooms the most commodious, the most convenient of access, with the
largest of drawers, the roomiest of closets, the most restful of chairs,
and a boundless welcome to all the household.

Closet room should be struggled for in the building of a house. This is a
point where the masculine intellect shows its weakness and the feminine
its strength. A quick-witted woman will suggest to her architect, nook
after nook of waste space to be utilized as closet room which would
altogether escape his notice. No bedroom should be unfurnished in this
regard. When closets are not built in, portable wardrobes should be

There is fallacy in the supposition that the most attractive portion of
the house should be reserved as a “spare room” for the casual guest. The
family should first be made comfortable; when that has been done, if one
would use hospitality without grudging, it will be necessary to imitate
the great woman of Shunem, and at least furnish a little chamber with
the necessary bed, table, stool and candlestick. Moving out of one’s own
room and doubling up with another for a night or two does very well in
the holiday season, when the spirit of hospitality and good nature is in
the air; but, ordinarily speaking, it is quite a task to empty the upper
drawer of one’s bureau, and leave one’s own comfortable quarters.

So far as health, neatness and style are concerned, brass bedsteads are
the best. They are very simple in form and construction, and so are some
of the iron bedsteads, which can be kept absolutely nice and clean in any
climate, and are, unlike brass, quite inexpensive. The most objectionable
of all bedsteads is that

              “Contrived a double debt to pay,
    A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day,”

which is only to be tolerated where a parlor must serve temporarily
as sleeping room. A well made bed is the essential piece of bedroom
furniture, which may be hidden from view by a screen or curtains, but
should not be slammed up and boxed in against the wall, or made to stand
upon anything but its own merits.

Wire net springs are probably as good as can be got, and a feather bed
under the mattress is an improvement to the best modern bed, if properly
aired, turned and shaken daily. Mattresses should be remade and their
contents pulled lightly apart before they grow matted or ridgy. Curled
hair mattresses are, of course, the best, but English flock, excelsior,
and straw, all make respectable beds, and can be made easier by covering
them with thick comfortables or blankets, under the sheet. It is quite
worth while to make slip covers for mattresses.

Sheets should have an allowance of at least three quarters of a yard for
tucking in. Three yards will not be found too long for comfortable home
sheets. Blankets are apt to be too short. It is better to tear a pair of
blankets apart, and finish the edge with a buttonhole stitch in worsted.
The old fashioned “blanket stitch,” as it was called, a long and short
stitch alternating, is very pretty. This finish is better than binding,
which is apt to shrink and tear off.

It seems a waste of time to make cotton patchwork when pretty quilts can
be bought so cheap. In the days when cotton cloth was costly, every scrap
was worth saving, but now patchwork seems only serviceable in teaching
little girls to sew overhand seams.

Hand-wrought spreads look well when pulled up over the pillows, covering
the whole bed, and should be treated with respect and carefully folded
and laid away at night.

Pillow shams are troublesome to keep in place, and can be discarded
without regret, when a pretty covering of this sort conceals the whole
bed. Of my own choice I would never make use of anything with so
disreputable a name.

The fault of crazy quilts is their craziness. To be really pleasing
they should have some design, like a Turkish rug which, though very
irregular in detail, has yet a general plan, a distinct centerpiece, and
a plainly defined border. One of the most objectionable features of the
ordinary “crazy” quilt is the huddling together in the same piece of
work of painting upon silk and embroidery, two widely differing sorts of
decoration, which will not bear being brought heedlessly in juxtaposition.

Very pretty comfortables, to be folded like a silk quilt, and thrown over
the foot of the bed, can be made of paper muslin, in dainty colors, or
of cheese-cloth, lightly filled with cotton batting, and knotted with
bright colored wools. Cotton comfortables are not so serviceable as
blankets, but they are much cheaper, and it is well to keep a supply on
hand for use in cold winter weather, or to make up an extra bed with in
case of emergency. They can be folded under the sheet to soften a hard
mattress, or white palliases filled with cotton can be made for the same
purpose, but great care should be taken to air bedding of this sort very

A roomy lounge in a bed chamber is a great convenience. It affords an
opportunity for an afternoon nap without disarranging the well made bed,
and many a careworn woman would lie down for a few minutes upon a lounge
in her bedroom who would not think of resting in the daytime upon the
bed. A long, broad, pine box, with wooden castors attached, makes an
admirable lounge frame, or a narrow cot bedstead could be cut down to be
of suitable height for a lounge frame. This should be supplied with a
good mattress, or a covering of chintz or cretonne could be drawn over
it, with a frill falling nearly to the floor. From one to three square
pillows, similarly covered, would perfect this lounge, which could serve
readily for a bed in time of need.

Bed hangings and canopies are pretty and unnecessary, except in
mosquito countries, where lace net, gathered full upon a hoop suspended
horizontally from the ceiling, and falling in ample folds to the floor,
will serve to keep many out, and one or two teasing marauders in, the
long night through. Bed hangings proper are prettiest when made in the
form of a canopy over the bed head, and should be of a material that will
bear washing.

An ample supply of choice bed linen and towels, all handsomely marked, is
no less a subject of pride with housekeepers than dainty table damask,
and people of wealth in these days spend lavishly upon hemstitched linen
or silk sheets, elegant towels, and elaborately embroidered letterings.

This fondness for well stocked linen presses is a womanly and pardonable
weakness, inherited from our far away ancestresses, who strewed stalks
of lavender between the sheets in their chests and presses, a custom
that has not gone altogether out of date among old fashioned European

Other comforts of the sleeping room where bath-rooms are not attached
are plenty of water and bath towels, a washstand for each occupant of
the room, generous bowls, a well filled pail with which to replenish the
pitchers, foot tub, a portable bath tub, capacious slop jars, a rubber or
enameled leather cloth to spread upon the floor, a screen for seclusion’s
sake, and room to splash. If the bedroom china, pails and jars be pretty
in shape and color, so much the better, but at any rate, let them be
large enough.

A wooden topped washstand should be protected with a piece of enameled
leather, over which a plain towel can be spread for look’s sake. Fanciful
fringed and colored mats are out of place on the washstand, where water
should be free to spatter.

Where “splashers” are used to protect the wall, they should be simple
of design and easy to wash, and mottoes, if introduced, should be
appropriate to the place. “Sweet Rest in Heaven,” which I have known
used for this purpose, can hardly be considered suitable; nor yet the
prophet’s command to the leprous Syrian captain, “Wash and be clean,” a
too suggestive motto, wholly subversive of the theory that bathing is a
luxury indulged in for refreshment’s sake; nor yet again a representation
of birds dipping into a stream, with the scriptural allusion to the
Good Samaritan’s washing and binding up of wounds, “Go and do thou
likewise.” These sentences might be appropriate in the accident ward of a
charity hospital, but hardly suit the wall decoration of a lady’s dainty

Something more suggestive of the sparkling, limpid purity of the crystal
spring would be in better taste—such as:

    “See the face of Laughing Water.”—_Longfellow._

    “She sprinkled bright water from the stream.”—_Shelley._

    “From a thousand petty rills
     That tumble down the snowy hills.”—_Milton._

There can be no lack of good mottoes to those who look for them.

A roomy, deep drawered bureau is best for a woman’s use, a dressing table
or bureau with small and large drawers for a man. There should be looking
glasses suited to the needs of each, but for a lady it is convenient to
have a glass so placed as to reflect her full figure, so that she may
judge of the “hang” of a skirt or the looping of dress drapery.

A candle-stand by the bed, with candlestick and matches, a table or desk
for writing purposes, chairs low enough for sewing or lounging in, and a
big, old-fashioned stuffed chair for the solace of the sick, these are
all bedroom comforts.

I have said nothing of servants’ rooms, though much might be written on
the thoughtless neglect which generally makes such rooms unpresentable. I
can recall to memory but one house containing a model room for servants’
use. That bed-chamber was as exquisitely nice in its appointments as the
room of the mistress herself, though its furnishing was, of course, much
less costly.

Boys’ rooms, also, especially in country homes, are apt to be cheerless,
neglected spots, wholly unattractive to their occupants. Boys ought not
to be burdened in their rooms with the care of those little prettinesses
in which their sisters delight; still they should be educated to enjoy
what is truly refined and beautiful. Their bedrooms should be tasteful
and comfortable, and they should be taught to keep them in order, to
hang clothes tidily in the press, to lay away neckties carefully in the
drawer, and to take pride and pleasure in making their rooms attractive
to themselves and their young friends. They should be encouraged to feel
at home in their rooms, and if no attic or shed room can be given up for
their boyish gatherings, for whittling, tinkering, kitemaking, and other
important youthful manufactures, to say nothing of choice collections
of sticks and stones, then banish the carpet, retaining only a warm rug
before the bed, and let them make whatever clutter their legitimate
pursuits involve, so long as they are rigidly required to right all
disorder when the work is done. Free permission to carry on such innocent
occupations within his own domain, with a kindly winking of the maternal
eye at an occasional pillow fight, would tell more as a means of grace
on the boy who now slips out of the house to find doubtful recreation
elsewhere, than a whole barrelful of Sunday sermons. The boy who has once
learned to take pleasure and pride in the appointments of his own room
will want some time for enjoying them, other than the hours spent in
bed, and as he of choice lives more within the walls of home, and enters
more and more into the spirit of home he will be so much the more likely
in his turn to be one day the master and joint possessor of a homelike



            Pure white the lily’s cup!
    Reminding thee of those whom God hath clad
    In linen robings—fine, and clean, and white—
            The righteousness of saints!

            Perfumed, the lily’s cup!
    Reminding thee of incense-breathing lives
    Whose fervent prayer, whose loving words and deeds
            All earth with fragrance fill!

            With honey stored, its cup!
    Reminding thee of pure heart-chalices
    Whose limpid depths are wells of heavenly love
            Whence all who will may draw.

            The lily’s cup shall fade!
    But withered flower and body death-destroyed,
    Or Spring, or Angel-trump shall wake again
            To resurrection, life!

            This, then, the lily saith:
    “Pure, perfumed, stored with sweetness be _thy_ life,
    On earth a benison—then, glory-crowned,
            Immortal be in heaven!”



In this country many people have only just begun to know that there is
such a thing as forestry. Very few understand clearly that it is both a
science and an art, and is one of the most important subjects which can
come before the mind. For convenience we will treat it under two heads:

A, the value or benefit of forests; and

B, How shall we get the greatest benefit from them?

A. We may regard forests:

I. As yielding a vast amount of products necessary for civilized people.

II. As efficient in preventing certain evils, such as:

    (_a_) Washing soil from hillsides;

    (_b_) Depositing this material where it does great and lasting

    (_c_) Droughts and floods;

    (_d_) Harm done by drying, chilling or malarious winds;

    (_e_) The shifting of wind-driven sands which, when not held in
    place by forests, often cover and ruin fertile land, and even
    bury fences and buildings;

    (_f_) The undue multiplication of insects harmful to vegetation.

III. As beautifying a region and affording healthful retreats for tired
and sick people.

But forestry treats not only of this use and value in the woods, but also
tells us:

B. How to make them of use: that is, how to manage forest property so
as to make it yield the greatest benefit _in the long run_, to the
individual owner, to the community, and to future generations. This
involves the study of a great many questions which we may classify as

I. On what kinds of soil and in what situations shall we keep or plant

II. What kinds of trees shall we raise in any particular place?

III. At what age, and in what way shall we cut the trees of each kind in
a given region?

IV. What are the methods of marketing forest products which will secure
the greatest profit?

V. How shall we protect trees from disease, from robbery, and from fires?

Few Americans have studied forests with any other design than that of
getting from them the greatest possible amount of _immediate_ profit.
Scarcely anywhere has care been taken to so use them that they should
continue to yield their many sided benefits to succeeding generations.
Neither have they been regarded as of much use in the _present_ except as
sources of certain products, such as lumber, timber, tan-bark, charcoal,
turpentine, resin, tar, wood-pulp, etc. As a rule, no consideration has
been given to the effect they have upon climate, rainfall, droughts,
floods, health, or the beauty and attractiveness of a region.

The first settlers cleared off, in the quickest and cheapest way, great
forests of the finest trees which, if standing now, would be worth far
more than the ground on which they stood can ever be worth for farming.
These splendid forests of species of timber that now bring a high
price—from $45 to $150 per thousand feet for the best quality—were cut
down, hauled together, skidded up in piles and burned to get rid of them.
And this was called _improvement_ of that land!

They often cleared in this way steep hillsides which, after yielding two
or three good crops by means of the rich vegetable mould that always
accumulates under a forest, were almost worthless, even as pastures, and
entirely so for tillage. As a result, in large regions so _improved_,
springs and brooks fail in the dry season, and in a wet time floods
become more and more destructive. Had these hillsides been kept as
forests—that is, cut over in such a way as to ensure a new growth of
equally good trees—they would have kept on affording in winter steady
and remunerative employment; springs and streams would have preserved
a more even and permanent flow; climate would have been more favorable
for the production of all kinds of crops, and especially of fruits; men
and animals would have enjoyed better health; and regions now barren,
uninviting, and thinly inhabited by poverty-stricken and unambitious
people would furnish a good living to large and vigorous populations,
and would beside be attractive to summer visitors in search of health or

In a word, we may say that forestry—using the term as meaning the
science and art of getting from the woods the greatest and most lasting
benefits—has never been studied except by a very few of our people.
One reason for this is that until quite recently all forest products
have been abundant, and the injury to water supply, health, farming,
manufacturing and navigation resulting from the destruction of the woods
has only just begun to appear.

Besides, these mischievous results are not by most folks assigned to
their true cause, _e. g._, certain parts of the lower peninsula of
Michigan are far less adapted for raising wheat, corn, clover and peaches
than they were before, to so great an extent, the great sheltering
forests of that State were cut off.

A commission appointed in 1867 by the legislature to examine the subject,
reported that for forty years the winters had been growing more severe;
and that thirty years before the peach had been abundant, and the crop
rarely failed, frost being unknown from May to October; but that at the
time of the report it was very uncertain on account of unseasonable
frosts. The further statement was made that:

“The destruction of the wheat as well as the corn crop is becoming
a matter of great anxiety to our farmers in many sections, and the
winter-killing of the clover in the eastern part of the State last
winter, not by ‘heaving,’ but, apparently, by being frozen dead in the
ground, as it appears black and rotten in the spring, may be another
proof of climatic changes of great significance to the farmers and the

It was estimated that the damage to winter wheat by its exposure to cold,
wind and sun for want of its former usual covering of snow, caused a loss
of half the crop, or 5,000,000 bushels in a single year. (United States
Department of Agriculture, Report on Forestry, 1877, p. 271.)

Yet, notwithstanding this evidence of the injury done by forest
destruction, it aroused no such general demand for the preservation of
at least shelter-belts across the tract of injurious winds that the
legislature felt obliged to interfere and secure such preservation. Since
1867 the destruction of the forests of Michigan has gone on much faster
than before.

Prof. B. G. Northrop, of Connecticut, who has done so much to promote the
observance of “Arbor Days,” says that in visiting the regions where the
floods in the Ohio river in 1883-4 did so much damage—that of 1883, it
was estimated, destroyed $60,000,000 worth of property, beside a great
many lives, and that of 1884, which was five feet higher, did less harm
only because that of 1883 had left less property within reach—he often
met, even among the sufferers, a doubt or denial that cutting away the
forests on the head-waters of the Ohio had much effect in causing the

Another reason for our apathy is that people get used by degrees to
changes in climate, springs and streams; in the adaptedness of a region
to raise fruit, vegetables, grain or stock; or in the price and quality
of forest products. In all these respects, large portions of the country
are already suffering great loss, but most of it has come on gradually.
Of late years, however, so much has been said in the papers and magazines
that floods, drought and injurious changes of climate are more generally
attributed to forest destruction. But people do not seem as yet to be
very uneasy about the waste and destruction of the valuable material
afforded by the woods. We had so much when we received this continent
from God’s hand that it never seemed as if we could suffer from lack of
it. In fact, few people realize how great is the money value of what
every year we draw from this bank. Most folks would be greatly surprised
to learn that what we get from the woods is worth more than any other
one crop. No one yield of cotton, corn, wheat or hay is worth so much in
dollars and cents.

In 1880, the last census year, these products were worth _the enormous
sum of $700,000,000_, which is one and two-fifths times the value of our
breadstuffs; two and one-eighth times that of the meat we raise; two
and one-half times that of all the steel and iron we make; almost three
times that of the woolen, and three and one-eighth times that of the
cotton goods turned out by our mills; more than three and one-half times
that of the boots and shoes; four and one-half times that of the sugar
and molasses; _eight and one-fourth times our total outlay for public
education_; ten times the output of our gold and silver mines, and three
times that of the entire product of coal and ores of all sorts.

Now, this immense sum is what the raw materials afforded by the forests
are worth. But these raw materials are themselves the necessary
foundation of a vast number of the most important industries, such as
the manufacture of furniture, wagons, agricultural implements, railroad
cars, pianos, organs and other musical instruments, house-building, etc.,
etc. It would be a useful exercise to write out a list of the trades
and occupations one can think of which must have forest products, or
something more costly, as their raw material. We should find that those
industries which depend directly on these products include the most
important ones, while every branch of manufacture and every kind of work
is indirectly dependent on them. Different branches of industry are more
and more interwoven with and dependent upon each other, as civilization
advances. The greater the number of parts entering into a machine, the
greater is the loss from the stoppage of the whole if any one breaks
down. A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.

Another reason for our indifference is that most things made from forest
products are, as yet, cheap, because improved methods and machinery,
together with sharp competition, have lessened the cost of finished
articles. Men employed in getting these products out of the woods and
carrying them to the consumer, are constantly devising more efficient
methods of work. A modern saw mill, planing mill, sash and blind or
furniture factory, is as much more efficient than anything known fifty
years ago as an express train is better than a stage coach. Then, too,
wherever the ground is moderately level, the narrow-gauge railroad often
takes the place of the old fashioned sleds or trucks drawn by teams. This
makes loggers independent of high water for floating their logs. A train
of twenty-five cars, containing 40,000 feet of logs, is on the average
loaded in seventy-five and unloaded in nine minutes, and the train will
run, one day with another, 160 miles. By this means much timber is now
reached that grows so far from streams that it would not have paid to
carry it to the mills by the old methods. A dollar or a day’s work will,
by means of these contrivances, accomplish so much more now than it used
to, that under the pressure of competition, most of the finished articles
made of wood in whole or in part, are sold cheaper than formerly. But
really good lumber and timber in the tree or log is very much dearer, and
this because our enormous consumption is exhausting the stock. But since
people in general are impressed by what a finished article costs when
they buy it, we are not likely to be goaded into the necessary measures
by feeling the lack of forest products until the greater part of our
woods have been used up. Nothing but agitation and educational work,
such as that done by “Arbor Days,” will arouse us in time to prevent the
destruction of our forests.

Before leaving this part of our subject, which has to do with the value
of the forests as sources of valuable products, it may be well to say a
word about the important matter of forest fires. All experts agree that
they consume at least as much as the axe and saw, and that is not less
than $300,000,000 worth a year, which is about $5.00 for every man, woman
and child in the country. But the indirect damage they do by preventing
the proper care of old, and the planting of new woodland, will, quite
possibly, prove greater than that which they do by destroying what we
already have. The most profitable tree culture is that which produces
mature and good timber, because it always will command a high price;
while there is now, and probably for a long time there will be, a large
supply of, and a low price for, immature and cheap timber. But to raise
mature trees, we must wait longer for the profit on the time and money
expended. Most of our hasty people want quick returns, and if anything
makes the long investment risky, these two objections—delay and risk—will
weigh more than any arguments that can be put into the other side of the
scale, and it is so hard with our present laws and habits to keep fires
out of the woods, that it makes it hazardous to spend time and labor in
keeping and caring for trees long enough to get the best timber from
them, and therefore few undertake it.

II. But we were to give a glance at the usefulness of forests as
_preventing certain evils_. Taking these up in the order named, we come
first to (_a_) _The washing of the soil from hillsides_. It was estimated
by the exact and cautious George P. Marsh (“Earth as Modified by Human
Action”—a book that no one can afford not to read—pp. 282-3), that during
the last two thousand years there has been washed away from the portion
of Italy drained by the river Po, enough soil to raise the _entire
surface forty-five feet_! Had the woods been left on the steep hillsides
as they should have been, most of this havoc would never have occurred.
For lack of that soil many districts once fertile are barren, and much
of the material of which they have been robbed has been deposited where
it is an almost unbearable nuisance. _E. g._, it has little by little
raised the bottom of the Po itself, and the dykes have been built higher
and higher to keep the river from flooding the plains through which in
the lower part of its course it flows, so that it runs far above the
surrounding country, in a sort of aqueduct. The same thing has occurred
in the lower part of the Mississippi. From the deck of a steamboat, for
a long distance above New Orleans, one looks down on the plantations.
This elevation, of course, makes the pressure of the water and the cost
of keeping up the dykes, or levees, greater every year, and when a break
occurs in time of high water, of course it is more destructive, because
it pours down from a higher level.

Now, were all the steep land in the Mississippi valley kept covered with
trees, as it should be, this enormous amount of sediment would not come
down to raise the bottom and the dykes, and to do much other harm. In
time it may break through its banks and make new channels for itself,
leaving important towns high and dry, and, of course, destroying much
property where its new route is cut. The vast mass of vegetable mould,
ashes, etc., which will be washed down into the Hudson—if the forests
of the Adirondacks are ever destroyed by fire, as there is danger that
they may be—by the great floods which denudation of those mountain sides
will often cause, will quite possibly ruin the navigation of that river
and the harbor of New York, not to speak of the destruction of farms,
factories, and towns lying where those floods can reach them.

Next in our list of evils prevented by forests come Droughts and Floods
(_c_). The annual supply of water from rain and snow, if held back by
woods on steep hillsides until it can soak down to the underground
sources of springs, or if stored up as in a sponge by the mass of fine
roots, dead leaves, decayed wood, moss, etc., which often accumulate on
the surface under old forests to the depth of two or three feet—may be
made to last through a whole summer. There falls from the clouds—one year
with another—only a certain amount of water in any particular region.
If there is nothing on the hillsides to hinder its rush down into the
streams, it is lavished like the money of a spendthrift, where it does
little or no good, and very likely much harm. The difference between the
two is that between feverish, riotous waste and sober plenty. “Waste not,
want not,” is as good a maxim for the management of water as for that of

A torrent is a stream liable to extreme and sudden increase and
decrease—usually very small or quite dry in a dry time, but liable to
rise suddenly to a great height, and as quickly to shrink to its former
size. By the loss of its once rich forests, the Ardêche, a tributary
of the Rhone, became such a torrent, its principal branch often being
entirely dry. It has been known to rise sixty feet and dwindle back to
almost nothing within a few days. The upper Hudson has apparently all the
conditions necessary for becoming such a torrent if once its forests are
exterminated. It descends some 4,000 feet in a short and steep course,
from a region where there falls a great deal of rain and snow.

As the headwaters of this important river, unlike those of the Ohio, lie
almost within the limits of a single state, and the control of a single
legislature, great efforts have, within the last two years, been made
to secure the appropriation of the great Adirondack region, which is
entirely unsuited for farming, to be kept forever as a forest. It has
been objected that this would cost too much, and that if such laws were
enacted as would enable the State (which now holds mostly by tax title
some 750,000 acres) and the permanent owners of large tracts to protect
their land from fire and timber stealing, those who hold smaller lots,
and do not care to keep them after cutting off the spruce and hemlock
they contain, would let them pass into the possession of the State by
non-payment of taxes. But a recent judicial decision renders it very
doubtful whether in this way a sufficiently valid title could be secured.
There are strong arguments against any effective measures. Most men who
have invested money in lumbering, tanning and pulp mills, and iron works
requiring charcoal, have been accustomed to carry on their work in such
a way that it has made the destruction of the woods liable or almost
certain to occur sooner or later; and they are not willing—indeed, they
declare they are not able—to go on with their business if there is added
the cost which would be involved in the changing to safer methods. They
are certainly mistaken in their violent opposition to legislation which
aims to protect the woods. They would, were a proper system of forestry
once put in practice, find that their tracts of land would yield so much
more, and so much better material, and that their losses from fires,
floods, etc., would be so diminished, that in the long run they would
be gainers, and at any rate the damage which would result from the
denudation of those mountains would be so vast and so lasting that all
the possible cost of paying these men a fair equivalent for any loss
such protective measures might occasion would be a mere trifle in the

As to the value of forests in preventing damage done by drying, chilling
or malarious winds (_d_), there can be no doubt that it is very great.
It is probable that all through the region between the eastern boundary
of the Indian Territory, Kansas and Nebraska, and 105° west longitude,
dry winds from the south and west are very detrimental to both vegetable
and animal life. If any species of trees can be made to grow there—and by
doing this over areas large enough to warrant the cost of irrigation and
other protective measures the undertaking might succeed where it would
not if attempted on a smaller scale—it is very probable that in the line
of such belts of timber other species and many crops might thrive which
can not now be raised.

It is certain that everywhere in the northern prairie states a grove that
breaks the force of the cold winds from the north and west adds greatly
to the value of a farm. And it is gratifying to learn that so much tree
planting has already been done in those states. Some have even been so
sanguine as to predict that when the soft and hard timber of Michigan,
Wisconsin and Minnesota is gone these new prairie states may be able—at
least partially—to supply the needs of those just named, whose forests
were confidently asserted to be inexhaustible.

The effect of certain trees—indeed, of almost any—as fences against
malarious winds has been carefully studied in France and Italy, and the
verdict is that it is very great.

Marsh (“Earth as Modified by Human Action,” p. 159) says: “It is well
known that the great swamps of Virginia and the Carolinas, in climates
nearly similar to that of Italy, are healthy even to the white man,
so long as the forests in and around them remain, but become very
insalubrious when the woods are felled.” He quotes Jules Clavé, a French
expert, as authority for the statement that “the flat and marshy district
of the Sologne, in France, was salubrious till its woods were felled. It
then became pestilential, but within the last few years its healthfulness
has been restored by forest plantations.” Marsh also thinks that in
Germany and India belts of trees have been found very beneficial in
warding off cholera. A lumber journal recently asserted that cholera has
never prevailed in pine-producing districts.

Lanisci says that in the time of Gregory VIII. (who came to the
papal chair in 1572 and reformed the calendar) Rome became much more
unhealthful when a pine forest lying to the south was cut down because
infested by brigands. The abbey of Trois Fontaines, considered one of the
worst places in the fever infested Roman _campagna_, was much improved
in three years by plantations of the Eucalyptus, and this tree has been
used with good effect for the same purpose in the French settlements in
Algeria (Hough, U.S. Forestry Report for 1877, p. 285).

Of the service rendered by forests in preventing the drifting of sands
(_e_) the most remarkable instance is afforded by the once dreary regions
in the extreme southwestern part of France, where plantations of the
maritime pine have, in the departments of the _Landes_ and _Gironde_
transformed over 4,000 square miles of poverty-stricken country into
populous hives of an intelligent and thrifty population. In the lower
part of the valley of the Wisconsin river, much loss and inconvenience is
experienced by the drifting of the sand which, driven by the prevailing
west winds, covers and ruins fields and gardens, and in many cases, even
fences. A few belts of timber running across that valley would be worth
many times their cost in preventing this nuisance.

Woods prevent the increase of noxious insects (_f_) in two ways: They
shelter birds, nature’s great insect-police, and they stop the progress
of many species, such as the grasshoppers, which scourge some of the
western states, and the chinch-bug, so much dreaded by wheat growers.
It is said that the latter pest never traverses a belt of thick trees
as much as seven or eight rods in width. So, too, it is affirmed on
apparently good authority, that winds carrying the fungus called
wheat-rust deposit their baleful load if they find a forest in their

III. Scarcely any room remains to speak of the important service
which forests render in beautifying a region. Besides preventing the
disfiguring ravages of wind and water, they add a positive element of
beauty. No one accustomed to the palpitating glow of autumn color in the
Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts; or to the more subtle attractions of
the shifting half-tints in which spring drapes budding trees in the same
region; or to the splendor of a wooded mountain side with the diamonds of
an ice-storm glittering in the sun; or to the restful coolness of a dark
hemlock grove in July heat, can ever feel quite at home in a treeless

B. _How shall we manage forest property so as to make it yield these
benefits and ward off these evils?_ The questions arranged under our five
heads have for more than a hundred years been exhaustively studied in
Germany and France. Germany thinks that before a man is put in charge of
the immense interests which center around her forests, he needs from ten
to fourteen years of hard work and study after he has as much education
as the average graduate of an American college. The science elaborated in
these schools, and in the forests under the charge of their graduates,
is embodied in a large, learned and rapidly growing literature. The
application of these principles to any particular region must be learned
upon the spot. For this purpose, one of the first things which our
national and state governments should do is to establish in different
parts of the country experiment stations connected with large tracts of

At these stations we could work out specific answers to the questions
suggested under our second main division (B). It is plainly impossible
in the limits of a single article to do more than give a hint of some of
these practical questions. Not even the most expert German forester could
give adequate answers until he had before him the results of years of
experiment conducted in different parts of the country by able men. Even
then such answers would fill many books.

The end aimed at in this paper has been reached, if the numerous readers
of THE CHAUTAUQUAN get from it some distinct impression of the magnitude
of the interests with which the science of forestry has to do, and of the
pressing need that the American people begin at once, and in earnest,
to protect, to improve, and to extend the forest estate which up to the
present we have been so heedlessly wasting.



Since the appearance of my first article on this subject, in the October
number of THE CHAUTAUQUAN, I have received letters, asking further
information, from New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Virginia,
Maryland, Iowa, Indiana, Missouri, Ohio, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin. I
have tried to answer all of them, but to none could I return more than a
brief, and I fear unsatisfactory reply. I therefore resume the subject in
this public way, with the hope of furnishing full information to all who
are interested.

My former article was much criticised by my friends, scarcely one of whom
agreed with me entirely. Some said that my view of the Civil Service was
an ideal one—as it should be, not as it is—and others that I wrote from
the standpoint of a successful (!) woman. A person high in authority gave
me food for reflection in the following inquiry: “Do you not think that
in justice to those who wish to apply for examination, you ought to say
how many have already successfully passed, for whom places can not be

This was a new phase of the question, and quite staggered me. With my
accumulating correspondence around me, I began to feel as if I had
ignorantly committed a serious blunder which I must lose no time in
explaining. The fact that the Commission already had on file the names
of many women, with a bare possibility of the list being exhausted at
a remote period, was an aspect of the case which I had not adequately

The reason for the great excess in the number of women’s names over
those of men left on file, is officially stated to be that, whenever
vacancies occur in any of the departments a demand is usually made for a
male instead of a female clerk. I think that I am not mistaken in saying
that appointments have hitherto been made in the ratio of six to one.
The Commission has been allowed no discretion. When a demand was made
for a male clerk, a female could not be supplied. With my observation
and experience among department clerks, this appears to me an unjust
discrimination. I have often asked the reason for this of those who ought
to be able to furnish intelligent opinions upon the subject, but have
never succeeded in eliciting anything satisfactory. One general argument
used is that it is more difficult to enforce discipline among women.
This, however, is such a weak statement, though oft repeated, that I am
not inclined to discuss its merits or demerits. A really strong point
is made in their average loss of time. It is claimed by some of the
aggrieved class that this would be rectified by a just apportionment of
salary as it would relieve them of much additional labor after office
hours. I am not prepared to suggest the remedy, I only desire to speak of
the service as it exists. Whenever a proposition is made to introduce a
woman clerk into one of the cosy, well-furnished apartments occupied by
three, four or six clerks of the opposite sex, it is met by a prompt and
indignant protest.

Why? Well, this is a question I will answer myself, and if it be treason,
I am absolutely indifferent to the consequences. Pass along the corridors
and glance through the half-open doors into these pleasant offices;
observe the occupants engaged with fresh newspapers, their chairs tipped
back, barely preserving a perilous balance by making footstools of the
desks; observe also the clouds of fragrant smoke; if the weather be warm,
graceful negligé costumes will not escape you; a vacant chair, perhaps
many vacant chairs will be sadly suggestive to the unenlightened, but if
you inquire, the answer will be reassuring: “He has only stepped out”
(for an hour or two). Paradoxical as it may appear, the affairs of an
entire department may be administered while the $8,000 head, accompanied
by his bureau officers, is fishing in the Adirondacks, making an
excursion to Florida, crossing the plains, or summering at Mount Desert;
and all along the line there are delicious masculine privileges which
the ambitious female must not even cherish a profane desire to possess.
In the light of these exclusive dispensations I have often seriously
considered the tenets of the Arcadian settlement upon the bayou Têche. No
woman is allowed to enter its peaceful borders who can read and write,
consequently they are lovely cooks and have no wrinkles. The difficulty
seems to begin when they are allowed to master the alphabet—after
that there is no stopping them. In a word, the intelligent, deft,
skillful, conscientious women workers of the departments have trespassed
alarmingly upon the ancient, solidified rights of the original “lords
of the territory,” and that, too, just as they were most aggressively
and menacingly arrayed. The passage of the Civil Service act was “a
trumpet pealing news of battle above the unrisen morrow”—to women.
Visions of the beautiful “equal work, equal pay” doctrine rose thick and
fast beyond the dark limit line of a hitherto narrow horizon; visions
of regular promotions for well performed work. Alas, instead of this,
the departments are permitted to discriminate in favor of male clerks,
and no laws have yet been enacted in reference to promotion. In view
of these two truths perhaps I ought to take back all that my former
article contained. If the operation of the law is to practically exclude
women, while it offers no opportunities of advancement to those already
within the gates, certainly I owe it to my readers to admit it. But this
admission—even with the six to one, or even greater ratio confronting
me, I am not prepared to make. I have shadowed forth the reasons for
this state of things, and I shall continue to hope and to believe that
wise legislation will regulate the system, and time will adjust it to
harmonious working order.

In reading the complete and exhaustive work upon the Civil Service
of Great Britain, by the Hon. Dorman B. Eaton, chairman of our own
Commission, I find that when women were first employed in that
enlightened land they were considered too dishonest to be trusted with
letters that had not been first cut open by men clerks, and all valuables
removed! They were also under the constant surveillance of a “matron.”
Now they fill numberless places of trust and responsibility, and a large
class of earnest, self-reliant, independent women has been the outgrowth
of an experiment which had this puny, almost despicable beginning.
Therefore, despite facts and figures, we need not be discouraged in this
country. It ought to be comforting to those clamoring upon the outside
that there are friends and allies within. It is said that there are
twelve hundred women in the Treasury alone, while those in the other
departments must aggregate many hundreds more. A certain historian
affirms that the Bourbons mainly owed their restoration to the throne
of France to the following message sent by Prince Talleyrand to the
allied sovereigns and their generals: “You may do everything and you
dare nothing; for once, then, be daring.” I repeat the warlike sentiment
to women desiring work here. If you do not ask for it, assuredly you
will not receive it. If you do ask—you, or you, my sister—from the
North, East, South or West, may be successful. Some of you certainly.
In direct response to questions which have been asked me by numerous
correspondents, I make the following statements: Each state and territory
is entitled to a quota of appointments based upon its population,
without reference to present incumbents who were appointed under the old
system. Examinations are held in various places, thereby affording all
who desire an opportunity to attend. A letter addressed “Civil Service
Commission, Washington, D. C.,” containing a request for information,
will obtain a printed form containing full particulars as to every step
of procedure. Age, moral character, previous employment, where educated,
etc., must be testified to under oath, and each applicant must be
endorsed by not less than three nor more than five reputable persons to
whom he or she must be personally known. All applicants will be informed
when and where the first examination most convenient to them will be
held. A thorough, rudimentary education is all that is necessary for
the $900 examination. For the $1,200 places something more is required;
a knowledge of book-keeping, and our civil government, and wider
historical and geographical information. There are special and technical
examinations for linguists, mechanical experts, etc. The ordinary work—by
which I mean all that is usually performed by clerks of the lower
grades—is never of an intricate character. It is easily learned, whether
it be keeping books of records, copying or briefing letters, counting
money or reckoning percentages. I do not wish to convey the impression
that there is any child’s play in the matter—far from it. There is an
abundant field in which industry and intelligence can exhibit themselves
advantageously. The extracts appended are from the first annual report
of the Commission, submitted to the President in February, 1884. I have
endeavored to outline the difficulties that lie all along the way, and
to show that long waiting may follow even a successful examination. I
am not conscious of being even at heart a strong partisan, and think
that I have presented a calm and impartial statement. In conclusion, I
may add that although good penmanship may be considered as a rather low
accomplishment, it is an important factor of success in this special


The questions below are an example of those used in the grades which fall
under the first and fourth clauses of Rule 7, known respectively as the
general and limited examinations. They are a fair sample of all those
used in those grades. It is at one or the other of those grades that
fully 95 out of every 100 applicants have been examined under the rules.
The questions are frequently varied, indeed almost at every examination,
without materially changing their grade, and there are special adaptions
of them to various places in the postal and customs offices. For the sake
of brevity the ample spaces for the answers on the examination papers are


Question 1.—One of the examiners will distinctly read (at a rate
reasonable for copying) fifteen lines from the Civil Service Law or
Rules, and each applicant will copy the same below from the reading as it

Question 2.—Write below, at length, the names of fifteen states and
fifteen cities of the Union.

Question 3.—Copy the following, which is section five of the Civil
Service act, in the blank below:

SEC. 5. That any said commissioner, examiner, copyist, or messenger,
or any person in the public service who shall willfully and corruptly,
by himself or in coöperation with one or more other persons, defeat,
deceive, or obstruct any person in respect of his or her right of
examination according to any such rules or regulations, or who shall
willfully, corruptly, and falsely mark, grade, estimate or report upon
the examination or proper standing of any person examined hereunder, or
aid in so doing, or who shall willfully and corruptly make any false
representations concerning the same or concerning the person examined,
or who shall willfully and corruptly furnish to any person any special
or secret information for the purpose of either improving or injuring
the prospects or chances of any person so examined, or to be examined,
being appointed, employed, or promoted, shall for each such offense be
deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction thereof, shall be
punished by a fine of not less than one hundred dollars, nor more than
one thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not less than ten days, nor more
than one year, or by both such fine and imprisonment.


Question 1.—Multiply 307968 by 490875 and divide the product by 307968.
Write in full the operation.

Question 2.—Divide three fourths of eight ninths by one seventh of three
fifths and subtract one seventh from the quotient.

Question 3.—Divide one thousand and eight and three one-thousandths
by three and eight one-hundredths, expressing the process in decimal

Question 4.—The compensation of a clerk, beginning June 30th, was $133.33
a calendar month. On the first of October his salary was increased 15 per
cent., and so remained until June 1st, when it was increased a further
amount of three per cent. on the original salary. What was the whole
amount payable to the clerk for the year?

Question 5.—A commissary suddenly forced to change quarters had on hand
980 bushels of wheat which cost 80 cents per bushel. He sold six per
cent. of it at a loss of four per cent. and four per cent. of it at a
loss of three per cent. How much was the whole loss incurred by the sale?


Question 1.—A note for $2,647.34 is payable eleven months from date with
interest at 3½ per cent. What will be the amount due on the note at
maturity? Give all the figures in the operation.

Question 2.—A disbursing agent failed, owing the government one item of
$308.45, another of $2,901.02. The government agreed to make a discount
of 13 per cent. on the first item and 11½ per cent. on the second. How
much was payable under the agreement?

Question 3.—June 30, 1880, A gave B a note for $1,005 payable July 4,
1882, with interest at 4 per cent. May 1, 1882, A paid $235. What was the
amount of principal and interest due B when the note matured?

Question 1.—A contractor furnished the government articles as follows:
June 8, 1880, 300 barrels of flour at $4.50 a barrel, and July 6, 1880,
187 yards of carpet at $1 a yard. August 4, 1880, 1,000 yards of carpet
at 87 cents a yard. The government paid on account as follows: June
12, 1880, $1,000; July 10, 1880, $100; August 4, 1880, $500. State the
dealings between the parties in the form of a debit and credit account,
showing the balance due.


Question 1.—Give a definition as full as the space will allow of (1) a
verb; (2) a noun; (3) an adverb; (4) an adjective; (5) a preposition;
(6) a conjunction; and of (7) the phrase, “the grammar of the English

Question 2.—Write a letter, addressing it to the President and giving
your views, as far as you are willing to express them, in regard to the
duties and responsibilities of an officer in the public service which you
seek to enter. Let it fill, as nearly as may be, the following space.


Question 1.—Which States extend to or border on the sea or tide-water?
What is the capital of each of said States?

Question 2.—What is meant in our history, (1) by the Colonial period; (2)
by the Continental Congress; (3) by the Declaration of Independence; (4)
by the Emancipation Proclamation? Let your answers, as nearly as may be,
fill this blank.

Question 3.—State in general terms, but as particularly as the space
below will permit, what are the authority and functions of (1) the
Congress of the United States; of (2) the Supreme Court of the United
States; of (3) the President of the United States; and give the names of
each of the executive departments at Washington.


First subject same as in examination under Clause 1.


DIRECTION.—In case the examiners think that any of the following examples
may have been seen by the applicants, they can in the first strike out
a line of the figures, and, in the others, change some of the figures
without altering the grade of the question.

Question 1.—Add the following:


Question 2.—Find the difference between the following numbers:


Question 3.—Subtract ten thousand one hundred dollars and six cents from
one hundred thousand and seven dollars and five cents, giving all the
figures required in the operation.

Question 4.—Multiply 7089 by 983.

Question 5.—Divide 368506 by 375.

Question 6.—When board costs three dollars and seventy-six cents per week
what will it cost from March 15th to July 4th?

Question 7.—How many times is 17 cents contained in ten thousand dollars
and ten cents?

Question 8.—There are seven hundred and three dollars to be divided
between nine men and three boys. The boys are to have twenty-five
dollars and five cents each, the residue is to be equally divided among
the men, what is each man’s share? Give all the figures involved in the


The following tables show the statistics of the examinations in the three
branches of the classified service. These considerations should be borne
in mind in considering them:

1. That the ratio of those who fail to those who succeed is likely to be
much less when the grade of questions shall be better understood; for the
more incompetent will see they have little chance of succeeding. Besides,
a better class has appeared at each succeeding examination.

2. It was necessary in the outset to examine a large number to make
sure of having those competent to fill every variety of vacancy. Many
appointments may be now made without further examinations. The excessive
number examined from the District of Columbia was the result of
conforming to a rule having an unanticipated effect, which has been since

3. In regard to education, the records of the Commission are defective in
not showing how long those who have been at an academy or college have
remained at either, nor how many are graduates. If a person has been
but a month at an academy or college, he is put under the head of those
institutions. The habit of calling so many schools academies, and so many
academies colleges, helps to make this unavoidable classification the
more misleading.


_Showing numbers of examinations, number of those examined, passed,
appointed, age, education, etc., in the Department Service, Washington._

                    |Number examined. |     |
                    |     |Male.|     |     |                      Number
                    |     |     |Female.    |                   appointed.
                    |     |     |     |Average                +-----+
        STATES,     |     |     |     |age. |    Number passed at 65|
     TERRITORIES    |     |     |     |     +-----+-----+-----+ per |
         AND        |     |     |     |     |   Education.    |cent.|
      DIST. OF      |     |     |     |     +-----+-----+-----+ or  |
      COLUMBIA.     |     |     |     |     |Common school.   |over.|
                    |     |     |     |     |     |Academy.   |     |
                    |     |     |     |     |     |     |College.   |
  Alabama           |   4 |   2 |   2 |  42 |   2 |   2 |  .. |   2 |  ..
  Arizona Territory |   1 |  .. |   1 |  33 |  .. |   1 |  .. |   1 |  ..
  California        |   7 |   6 |   1 |  30 |   2 |   2 |   3 |   5 |   1
  Colorado          |   4 |   2 |   2 |  37 |   1 |   3 |  .. |   2 |  ..
  Connecticut       |   9 |   3 |   6 |  29 |   4 |   2 |  .. |   3 |   1
  Dakota Territory  |   2 |   1 |   1 |  29 |   1 |   1 |  .. |   1 |  ..
  District of       |     |     |     |     |     |     |     |     |
    Columbia        | 125 |  54 |  71 |  25 |  48 |  53 |  24 |  74 |   3
  Delaware          |   1 |  .. |   1 |  25 |   1 |  .. |  .. |   1 |  ..
  Florida           |   2 |  .. |   2 |  36 |  .. |   1 |   1 |   1 |  ..
  Georgia           |   3 |   2 |   1 |  25 |  .. |   1 |   2 |  .. |  ..
  Illinois          |  24 |  16 |   8 |  31 |   4 |   6 |  14 |  15 |   4
  Indiana           |  40 |  29 |  11 |  26 |  15 |  12 |  13 |  18 |   2
  Indian Territory  |   1 |   1 |  .. |  30 |  .. |   1 |  .. |  .. |  ..
  Iowa              |   3 |   2 |   1 |  23 |   1 |   1 |   1 |   3 |   1
  Kansas            |  15 |  13 |   2 |  32 |   7 |   2 |   6 |   9 |   2
  Kentucky          |  21 |  16 |   5 |  28 |   4 |   7 |  10 |  13 |   2
  Louisiana         |   6 |   3 |   3 |  34 |   2 |   4 |  .. |   3 |  ..
  Maine             |  14 |  10 |   4 |  26 |   2 |  11 |   1 |  11 |   2
  Maryland          |  66 |  40 |  26 |  26 |  13 |  35 |  18 |  44 |   3
  Massachusetts     |  36 |  27 |   9 |  30 |   6 |  17 |  13 |  26 |   1
  Michigan          |  18 |  12 |   6 |  28 |   3 |  10 |   5 |  10 |   3
  Minnesota         |   7 |   5 |   2 |  36 |   3 |  .. |   4 |   4 |  ..
  Mississippi       |   4 |   3 |   1 |  30 |   2 |   1 |   1 |   1 |  ..
  Missouri          |  15 |  11 |   4 |  34 |  10 |   4 |   1 |   7 |   2
  Nebraska          |   1 |  .. |   1 |  25 |  .. |   1 |  .. |  .. |  ..
  New Hampshire     |   6 |   2 |   4 |  35 |  .. |   6 |  .. |   3 |   1
  New Jersey        |  16 |   7 |   9 |  28 |   5 |   9 |   2 |  10 |   2
  New York          |  94 |  65 |  29 |  26 |  20 |  54 |  20 |  50 |   5
  North Carolina    |  38 |  26 |  12 |  27 |   2 |  24 |  12 |  19 |   1
  Ohio              |  64 |  45 |  19 |  32 |  20 |  27 |  17 |  42 |   4
  Pennsylvania      |  42 |  30 |  12 |  30 |  10 |  22 |  10 |  22 |   5
  Rhode Island      |   6 |   4 |   2 |  42 |   5 |   1 |  .. |   1 |   1
  South Carolina    |  13 |  11 |   2 |  24 |   1 |   6 |   6 |   9 |   1
  Tennessee         |   4 |   1 |   3 |  31 |   2 |   2 |  .. |   2 |  ..
  Texas             |   3 |   1 |   2 |  36 |  .. |   3 |  .. |   3 |  ..
  Vermont           |   5 |   1 |   4 |  28 |   2 |   3 |  .. |   4 |   1
  Virginia          |  37 |  21 |  16 |  32 |   9 |  22 |   6 |  24 |   2
  Washington        |     |     |     |     |     |     |     |     |
    Territory       |   1 |  .. |   1 |  40 |  .. |  .. |   1 |   1 |  ..
  West Virginia     |  19 |  13 |   6 |  30 |   7 |   6 |   6 |  10 |   1
  Wisconsin         |   7 |   6 |   1 |  32 |   3 |   3 |   1 |   5 |   2
      Total         | 784 | 491 | 293 |  32 | 217 | 366 | 201 | 459 |  53

       *       *       *       *       *

    Time was when Nature’s every mystic mood
      Poured round my heart a flood of eager joy;
      When pageantry of sunsets moved the boy
    More than high ventures of the great and good;
    When trellised shadows in the vernal wood,
      And little peeping flowers, so sweet and coy,
      Were simple happiness without alloy,
    And whispered to me things I understood.
    But now the strange sad weight of human woe,
      And all the bitterness of human wrong,
    Press on my saddened spirit as I go,
      And stir the pulsings of a graver song:
    Dread mysteries of life and death I scan,
    And all my soul is only full of man.—_W. W. Bedford._




There are two forms of fish culture. One of these, which has been
practiced for many centuries in China, and perhaps quite as long in
Europe, consisted in the transportation of living fish from waters
in which they were abundant, to other waters, depleted or naturally
deficient in fish life. The carp and the goldfish have been so long
domesticated that they have become modified, like domestic fowls and
cattle. The goldfish was introduced into all parts of the world from
China, centuries ago. The introduction of the carp into the United States
by the efforts of our Commissioner of Fisheries has been one of the most
extensive operations in fish culture ever attempted. In 1878 carp were
brought from Bavaria, and from this stock, planted in Babcock Lake, over
300,000 young fish have been distributed, in lots of ten to twenty, to
every part of the country, so that almost every county is now stocked
with this valuable food fish. As early as 1770 some experiments in
transplanting fish were attempted, at the suggestion of Benjamin Franklin
and others. In 1854, the black bass, now so abundant in the Potomac, were
introduced by an engineer on the B. & O. R. R., who brought them over the
Alleghenies in the water tank of his engine. This fish has also been sent
to England and France, where it bids fair to become a favorite. In 1873,
a car was freighted with eastern fish designed for introduction into the
waters of California. The car ran off the track in Nebraska, and the
rivers in that region are now stocked with our best fishes.

Far more important than fish transportation and the acclimation of
foreign species, is the art of fish breeding, by which it is possible
to keep up the supply of fishes in waters into which they have been
successfully introduced. It was in the year 1741 that Stephen Ludwig
Jacobi, a wealthy landed proprietor and civil engineer of northwestern
Germany, discovered the method of artificially fertilizing the eggs of
fish for the purpose of restocking ponds and streams, and began a series
of painstaking experiments with that end in view. He first conceived the
idea in 1725, when a youth of seventeen years, and was successful after
laboring for sixteen years. His discovery was not announced till 1763.
Although his discovery was thought to be of interest, and was used by
physiologists and students of embryology, it was not until the French
government resolved to make a grand experiment in stocking the waters of
France with fish that modern industrial fish culture was born.

The establishment in 1850 at Huningen, in Alsace, by the French
government, of the first fish-breeding station, or “piscifactory,” as
it was named by Prof. Coste, is of great significance, since it marks
the initiation of public fish culture. To this establishment the world
is indebted for some practical hints, but most of all for its influence
upon the policy of governments. The fortunes of war and conquest have
now thrown Huningen into the hands of the German government. The art
discovered in Germany was practiced in Italy as early as 1791 by
Bufalini, in France in 1820, in Bohemia in 1824, in Great Britain in
1837, in Switzerland in 1842, in Norway, under government patronage in
1850, in Finland in 1852, in the United States in 1853, in Belgium,
Holland, and Russia in 1854, in Canada about 1863, in Austria in 1865, in
Australasia, by the inhabitants of English Salem in 1862, and in Japan in

The history of fish culture in this country is so familiar to every one
who has the slightest interest in the subject that it seems unnecessary
to refer to it in this place, except to show that it was largely to the
growth of popular interest in the subject that the Fish Commission has
owed its original and since increasing support.

The establishment of the United States Commission of Fish and Fisheries
in 1871 marked the beginning of a period of great activity and great
progress in fish culture, which has been quite without parallel
elsewhere. The duties of the Commissioner were thus defined: “To
prosecute investigations on the subject (of the diminution of valuable
fishes), with the view of ascertaining whether any and what diminution
in the number of food fishes of the coast and the lakes of the United
States has taken place; and, if so, to what causes the same is due; and
also whether any, and what protection, prohibitory or precautionary
measures should be adopted in the premises, and to report upon the same
to Congress.”

I think I may truthfully assert that very much of the improvement in
the condition of our fisheries has been due to the wise and energetic
management of our Commissioner, Prof. Spencer F. Baird. Himself an
eminent man of science, for forty years in the front rank of biological
investigation, the author of several hundred scientific memoirs, no one
could realize more thoroughly the importance of a scientific foundation
for the proposed work.

His position as the head of that influential scientific organization,
given by an Englishman to the United States, “for the increase and
diffusion of useful knowledge among men,” enabled him to secure at once
the aid of a body of trained specialists.

I wish to emphasize the idea that _the work of the Fish Commission owes
its value solely and entirely to the fact of its being based upon an
extensive and long continued system of scientific investigations_, for
the purpose of discovering unknown facts, the knowledge of which is
essential to the welfare of the fisheries, the economical management of
the national fishery resources, the success of fish culture, and the
intelligent framing of fishery laws.

The resolution establishing the Commission requires that its head shall
be a civil officer of the government, of proved scientific and practical
acquaintance with the fishes of the coast—thus formally fixing its
scientific character.

The work of the Commission is and always has been under the direction of
eminent and representative scientific specialists, acting as heads of its
several divisions, and the employes, with the exception of a very limited
number of clerks, are trained experts, usually scientific students—so
exact and special is the training required even for subordinate
positions, that in a majority of cases each man employed is the only man
in the country who understands and can perform his own individual work.

Pure and applied science have labored together always in the service of
the Fish Commission, their representatives working side by side in the
same laboratories; indeed, much of the best work in the investigation of
the fisheries and in the artificial culture of fishes has been performed
by men eminent as zoölogists.

The work of the Fish Commission is naturally divided into three sections:

1. The systematic investigation of the waters of the United States, and
the biological and physical problems which they present. The scientific
studies of the Commission are based upon a liberal and philosophical
interpretation of the law. In making his original plans the Commissioner
insisted that to study only the food fishes would be of little
importance, and that useful conclusions must needs rest upon a broad
foundation of investigations purely scientific in character. The life
history of species of economic value should be understood from beginning
to end, but no less requisite is it to know the histories of the animals
and plants upon which they feed, or upon which their food is nourished;
the histories of their enemies and friends, and the friends and foes of
their enemies and friends, as well as the currents, temperature and other
physical phenomena of the waters in relation to migration, reproduction
and growth. A necessary accompaniment to this division is the amassing of
material for research to be stored in the National and other museums for
future use.

2. The investigation of the methods of fisheries, past and present, and
the statistics of production and commerce of fishery products. Man being
one of the chief destroyers of fish, his influence upon their abundance
must be studied. Fishery methods and apparatus must be examined and
compared with those of other lands, that the use of those which threaten
the destruction of useful fishes may be discouraged, and that those which
are inefficient may be replaced by others more serviceable. Statistics
of industry and trade must be secured for the use of Congress in making
treaties or imposing tariffs, to show to producers the best markets, and
to consumers where and with what their needs may be supplied.

3. The introduction and multiplication of useful food fishes throughout
the country, especially in waters under the jurisdiction of the general
government, or those common to several states, none of which might feel
willing to make expenditures for the benefit of the others. This work,
which was not contemplated when the Commission was established, was first
undertaken at the instance of the American Fish Cultural Association,
whose representatives induced Congress to make a special appropriation
for the purpose. This appropriation has since been renewed every year
on an increasingly bountiful scale, and the propagation of fish is at
present by far the most extensive branch of the work of the Commission,
both in respect to number of men employed and quantity of money expended.

The limits of this article do not permit the discussion of work in
connection with the fisheries, or of the scientific investigations which
form the bed for the whole current of its activity.

The principal activity of the Commission has properly been directed
to the wholesale replenishment of our depleted waters, as is shown
by the fact that from seventy-five to eighty-five per cent. of the
appropriations have been directed into this channel.

For fifteen or twenty years prior to the establishment of the Commission,
popular interest in the fisheries, and a desire for their maintenance had
been on the increase, the state of public opinion being doubtless under
stimulation from the action of the French government in fostering the
still infant art of fish culture.

The publications and experiments of Garlick, Fry, Atwood, Lyman, Green,
Stone, Ainsworth, Roosevelt, Atkins, Stady, and others, awakened
everywhere a sense of the fact that our rivers and streams were being
rapidly cleared out, and the feeling that a similar state of affairs
was probably existing in the adjoining ocean. Measures were set on foot
for restoration and protection as early as 1605, when Massachusetts
appointed the first commission, and prior to 1870 this example was
followed by several other states. Nearly all the states and territories
now have similar organizations. The United States has distanced all
its competitors, as was evinced by the manner in which the prizes were
distributed at the recent fishery exhibitions in Berlin and London.

The fertilization of the fish egg is the simplest of processes,
consisting, as every one knows, in simply pressing the ripe ova from the
female fish into a shallow receptacle, and then squeezing out the milt
of the male upon them. Formerly a great deal of water was placed in the
pan, now the “dry method,” with only a little water, discovered by the
Russian Vrasski, in 1854, is preferred. The eggs having been fertilized,
the most difficult part of the task remains, namely, the care of the eggs
until they are hatched, and the care of the young fry until they are able
to care for themselves.

The apparatus employed is various in principle, to correspond to the
physical peculiarities of the eggs. Fish culturists divide eggs into
four classes, viz.: (1) heavy eggs, non-adhesive, whose specific gravity
is so great that they will not float, such as the eggs of the salmon
and trout; (2) heavy adhesive eggs, such as those of the herring, smelt
and perch; (3) semi-buoyant eggs, like those of the shad and whitefish
(_Coregonus_), and (4) buoyant eggs, like those of the cod and mackerel.

Heavy, non-adhesive eggs are placed in thin layers, either upon gravel,
grilles of glass, or sheets of wire cloth, in receptacles through which
a current of water is constantly passing. There are numerous forms of
apparatus for eggs of this class, but the most effective are those in
which a number of trays of wire cloth, just deep enough to carry single
layers of eggs, are placed one upon the other in a box or jar, into which
the water enters from below, passing out at the top.

Heavy, adhesive eggs, are received upon bunches of twigs, or frames of
glass plates, to which they adhere, and which are placed in receptacles
through which water is passing.

Semi-buoyant eggs, or those whose specific gravity is but slightly
greater than that of the water, require altogether other treatment. They
are necessarily placed together in large numbers, and to prevent their
settling upon the bottom of the receptacle, it is necessary to introduce
a gentle current from below. For many years these eggs could be hatched
only in floating receptacles placed in a river, with wire cloth bottoms,
placed at an angle, the motion of which was utilized to keep the eggs
in suspension. Later, an arrangement of plunging buckets was invented,
cylindrical receptacles with tops and bottoms of wire cloth, which were
worked up and down at the surface of the water by machinery. The eggs
in the cylinders were suspended in rows from beams which were worked
up and down at the surface of the water by machinery. The eggs in the
cylinders were thus kept constantly in motion. Finally, the device now
most in favor was perfected; this is a receptacle, conical, or at least
with a constricted termination, placed with its apex downward, through
which passes from below a strong current, keeping the eggs constantly
suspended and in motion. This form of apparatus, of which the McDonald
and Clark hatching jars are the most perfect developments, may be worked
in connection with any common hydrant.[A]

Floating eggs have been hatched only by means of rude contrivances for
sustaining a lateral circular eddy, or swirl of water in the receptacle.

The use of refrigerators, to retard the development of the egg until such
time as it is most convenient to take care of the fry, is now extensively
practiced in the United States, and has been experimented upon in Germany.

In the discussion of fish-cultural economy, the distinction between
_private fish culture_ and _public fish culture_ must be carefully
observed, and it must also be borne in mind that by _public fish
culture_, or _modern fish culture_, I mean fish culture carried on at
public expense, and for the public good. Public fish culture, to be
effective, must be conducted by men trained in scientific methods of
thought and work.

The distinction between private and public fish culture must be
carefully observed. The maintenance of ponds for carp, trout, and other
domesticated species, is an industry to be classed with poultry raising
and bee-keeping, and its interest to the political economist is but

The proper function of fish culture is the stocking of the public waters
with fish in which no individual can claim the right of property.

The comparative insignificance of the private fish-culture of Europe
is, perhaps, what has led to the recent savage attack upon fish culture
in general by Malmgren of the University of Helsingfors. European
fish culturists have always operated with small numbers of eggs. The
establishment of Sir James Maitland at Howieton, near Stirling, Scotland,
is the finest and largest private establishment in the world, and yields
a handsome addition to the revenues of its proprietor. A description
of this hatchery is published as one of the conference papers of the
International Fisheries Exhibition, and that the distinction between
public and private enterprise in fish-culture may be understood, it
should be compared with the following statement by Mr. Livingston Stone,
the superintendent of one of the seventeen hatcheries supported by the
United States Fish Commission—that on the McCloud River in California.

“In the eleven years since the salmon-breeding station has been in
operation, 67,000,000 eggs have been taken, most of which have been
distributed in the various states of the Union. Several million,
however, have been sent to foreign countries, including Germany, France,
Great Britain, Denmark, Russia, Belgium, Holland, Canada, New Zealand,
Australia, and the Sandwich Islands.

“About 15,000,000 have been hatched at the station, and the young placed
in the McCloud and other tributaries of the Sacramento River. So great
have been the benefits of this restocking of the Sacramento, that the
statistics of the salmon fisheries on the Sacramento show that the annual
salmon catch of the river has increased 5,000,000 pounds each year during
the last few years.”

In the two government hatcheries at Alpena and Northville, Michigan,
in the winter of 1883-84, there were produced over 100,000,000 eggs of
whitefish, _Coregonus clupeiformis_, and the total number of young fish
to be placed in the Great Lakes this year by these and the various state
hatcheries will exceed 225,000,000. The fishermen of the Great Lakes
admit that but for public fish culture half of them would be obliged to
abandon their calling.

Instances of great improvement might be cited in connection with nearly
every shad river in the United States. In the Potomac alone the annual
yield has been brought up by the operations of the Fish Commission from
668,000 pounds in 1877 to an average of more than 1,600,000 in recent

In 1882, carp bred in the Fish Commission ponds in Washington was
distributed in lots of from 20 to 10,000 applicants in every State and
Territory, at an average distance of more than 900 miles, the total
mileage of the shipments being about 9,000,000 miles, and the actual
distance traversed by the transportation cars 34,000 miles.

Public fish culture is only useful when conducted upon a gigantic
scale—its statistical tables must be footed up in hundreds of millions.
To count young fish by the thousand is the task of the private
propagator. The use of steamships and steam machinery, the construction
of refrigerating transportation cars, and the maintenance of permanent
hatching stations, seventeen in number, in different parts of the
continent, are forms of activity only attainable by government aid.

Equally unattainable by private effort would be the enormous experiments
in transplanting and acclimating fish in new waters—California salmon in
the rivers of the east; landlocked salmon and smelt in the lakes of the
interior; the planting of shad in California and the Mississippi valley;
and German carp in thirty thousand separate bodies of water distributed
through all the states and territories of the Union. The two last named
experiments, carried out within a period of three years, have met with
success beyond doubt, and are of the greatest importance to the country;
the others have been more or less successful, though their results are
not yet fully realized.

It has been demonstrated, however, beyond possibility of challenge, that
the great river fisheries of the United States, which produced in 1880
48,000,000 pounds of alewives, 18,000,000 pounds of shad, 52,000,000
pounds of salmon, besides bass, sturgeon, and smelt, and worth “at first
hands” between $4,000,000 and $6,000,000, are entirely under control of
the fish culturist to sustain or destroy, and are capable of immense

Having now attempted to define the field of modern fish culture, and to
show what it has already accomplished, it remains to be said what appear
to be its legitimate aims and limitations. Its aims, as I understand
them, are:

1. To arrive at a thorough knowledge of the life history from beginning
to end, of every species of economic value; the histories of the animals
and plants upon which they feed or upon which their food is nourished;
the histories of their enemies and friends, and the friends and foes of
their enemies and friends, as well as the currents, temperature and other
physical phenomena of the waters in relation to migration, reproduction
and growth.

2. To apply this knowledge in such a practical manner that every form of
fish shall be at least as thoroughly under control as are now the salmon,
the shad, the alewives, the carp, and the whitefish.

Its limitations are precisely those of scientific agriculture and animal
rearing, since, although certain physical conditions may constantly
intervene to thwart man’s efforts in any given direction, it is quite
within the bounds of reasonable expectation to be able to understand what
these are and how their effects are produced.

An important consideration concerning the limitations of fish culture
must always be kept in mind in weighing the arguments for and against its
success. It is simply this: _that effort toward the acclimation of fishes
in new waters is not fish culture, but is simply one of the necessary
experiments upon which fish culture may be based_. The introduction
of carp from Germany was not fish culture, it was an experiment: the
experiment has succeeded, and fish culture is now one of its results.
The introduction of California salmon to the Atlantic slope was an
experiment. It has not succeeded. Its failure has nothing to do with
the success of fish culture. If any one wants to see successful fish
culture in connection with this fish, let him go to the Sacramento River.
The introduction of shad to the Pacific coast was an experiment. It
succeeded. Shad culture can now be carried on without fear of failure by
the fish commissions of the Pacific states.

Shad culture is an established success, so is whitefish culture in the
Great Lakes. The experiments with cod and Spanish mackerel were not fish
culture, though there is reason to hope that they may yet lead up to it.

Public fish culture, then, scarcely exists except in America, though in
Europe many eminent men of science appreciate its importance and are
striving to educate the people to the point of supporting it. Germany is
at present in the vanguard, and the powerful _Deutscher Fischerei Verein_
is doing all in its power to advance the interests of fish culture.

[A] Trans. Amer. Fish Cultural Association, 1883.

       *       *       *       *       *

If we could take all things as ordained and for the best, we should
indeed be conquerors of the world. Nothing has ever happened to man so
bad as he has anticipated it to be. If we should be quiet under our
troubles they would not be so painful to bear. I can not separate the
existence of a God from his pre-ordination and direction of all things,
good and evil; the latter he permits, but still controls.—_Chinese



The system of examinations which prevails in secular schools has its
advantages, but is not an unmixed benefit. It is an incentive to study.
It aids the teacher in determining the proper time and degree of the
promotion sought by the pupil. It is an approximate test of the place
which a candidate may be able to command in the advanced grades.

But the examinations may become an end instead of a means. Pupils may
work for success in a process rather than for the possession of power to
think on any subject at any time. Examinations may give advantage to an
inferior type of mind, rewarding mere memory and facility of expression,
thus putting to a disadvantage the steadier, calmer, slower movements of
a thorough student.

While in the day school, which deals with youth, we think the examination
in some form or other is indispensable, in our Circle it is entirely
impracticable. It is equally undesirable and unnecessary. We aim at
reading and not study, except as reading by mature minds, eager to know,
must necessarily induce the most fruitful kind of study. This, our aim,
is the highest and wisest. People join the C. L. S. C., not for degrees
in college, not for recognition as competitors in departments of exact
scholarship, but for direction in useful reading, and for the pleasures
of association in literary pursuits. It gives no pecuniary reward in
the shape of prizes or professional diplomas. It would seem to present
no inducement to dishonesty on the part of its members. They read for
personal profit. Their compensation lies chiefly, if not wholly, in the
joy of knowing, in the sense of increasing taste and power, and in the
delights of high and honorable companionship.

In our Circle moral worth is assumed. The men and women who join us
have long since learned that knowledge without character is not only
worthless, but is a curse. They come, through faith in the highest ends
of life, to improve their intellectual faculties. The gate by which they
enter the C. L. S. C. bears this legend: “We study the Word and the Works
of God.” On our holiest altar they read: “Let us keep our Heavenly Father
in the midst.” The most fervent appeals which fall from the lips of our
leaders are based upon the lofty religious standards which are lifted by
the institution. The memorial days, the Sunday vesper hour, the sacred
songs, all bear testimony to the religious character of the Circle. There
would seem to be no inducement to dishonest souls to knock at our doors,
or record their names on our lists.

A fact or two, not widely representative, justifies this word of warning.
I am glad to believe that to but few members in the Circle can it be
necessary or appropriate. We should all be watchful where temptation
is not excluded, and we may as well recall the fact that in the old
story from a very old book, there was a lurking serpent in a garden of
innocency and delight.

A C. L. S. C. diploma, though radiant with thirty-one seals—shields,
stars, octagons—would not stand for much in Heidelberg, Oxford, or
Harvard. As an American curiosity it would not attract a moment’s notice,
save as thoughtful men might come to measure its real significance. But
even then it would be respected, not as conferring honor upon its holder,
but as indicating a popular movement in favor of higher education. No
wearer of the badge of the “S. H. G.” or of the “Guild of the Seven
Seals,” would thereby stand any chance for appointment from any of these
institutions, to wear an honorary degree, or take a professor’s chair.

At Chautauqua in the season, and at local circle receptions, and
recognitions, the C. L. S. C. badge and diploma are not thus impotent.
The color and stamp assign the holder to the place of honor. It is
something even to our learned and honored Dr. Eaton to be the first
member of the “Guild of the Seven Seals,” and the only member of its
highest degree. It is something to be able to linger to the last in
the Hall of Philosophy at Chautauqua at the sunset, as the successive
societies are requested to remain—“S. H. G.,” “O. W. S.,” “L. R. T.,”
and the “G. S. S.” Members of our Circle appreciate the distinction,
and it is a distinction with meaning in it, and with genuine pleasure
accompanying it. It is something to have a high place in the Chautauqua
procession, and to frame a diploma at home with increasing luster as new
seals flash out upon it as stars in the evening sky.

But along these lines of promotion lie the perils indicated. The
recognition given to the members of the C. L. S. C. graduates and members
of its advanced societies may prove a temptation to unguarded souls, and
in an evil moment reading may be reported that has not been done, and
seals solicited on false representations.

An anonymous note (which none but contemptible people ever write) called
my attention to a possibility in a particular case, and a careful
investigation was made. The idle boast of a thoughtless woman was
reported, and an official examination of her report papers seemed to
corroborate the ungracious charge. Later investigations vindicate our
member and relieve her from the implied condemnation. But the subject has
weighed heavily upon my mind, so that I call the attention of all to a
possible peril.

Since the organization of the Circle I have been greatly pleased with
the conscientiousness of its members. Many of them were afraid, when
we required a report of the time spent each day in reading, that they
would not keep an exact account. They were afraid that if they could not
recall the contents of the chapter, or book, as students at school would
be required to do, that they could not report that chapter or book as
thoroughly read. Many persons refused to join the Circle lest they should
not be able to complete the four years’ course, believing as they did
that members were pledged to such completed work.

While this conscientiousness was gratifying it was excessive, and was
based on false views of the aims of the Circle. I have endeavored to
correct these views, to modify details of working, and to impress all
members with the simple aim of the Circle, to promote the reading of
certain books, leaving every person free to decide how superficially or
thoroughly the reading should be done.

Our only aim is to promote reading. If we enlist people in the reading
of good books on a wide range of subjects we shall at some point strike
their taste, and thus promote the culture that comes from the use of
one’s faculties in the line of his inclination and opportunity.

This being the modest standard of the Circle, we have a right to expect
that every member will honorably discharge his duty, reporting the books
he has read and none else, filling out his memoranda (when he undertakes
to do it at all) by his own hand, or by dictation, not by proxy, winning
the honors he seeks in our Circle by the honesty which will render his
recognition a pleasure to himself and a credit to the management.

If any member feels that his conscience would be quieted by re-reading
portions of the required books, let him do it.

If any member expects to gain distinction or place among us by
unfairness, let him remember that self-contempt is the severest penalty
we care to predict.

Let us live honestly.



_First Week_ (ending May 8).—1. “Easy Lessons in Animal Biology,” in THE

2. Sunday Readings for May 3, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Second Week_ (ending May 16).—1. “English as a Universal Language,” in

2. Sunday Readings for May 10, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Third Week_ (ending May 23).—1. “Home Studies in Chemistry,” in THE

2. Sunday Readings for May 17, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Fourth Week_ (ending May 31).—1. “The Eyes Busy on Things About Us,” in

2. Sunday Readings for May 24 and May 31, in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.



    “Give days and nights, sir, to the study of Addison if you
    mean to be a good writer, and, what is more worth, an honest
    man.”—_Samuel Johnson._


1. Roll call—Responses consisting of the name and distinguishing trait of
some character in Addison’s writings.

2. A Paper on the Political History of England in Addison’s Time.

3. A Brief Sketch of Addison’s Life and Travels.


4. Selection—“The Transmigration of Souls—A Letter from a Monkey.”

5. A History of the Newspapers with which Addison was connected.

6. A Paper on two of Addison’s Works—“The Campaign” and “The Tragedy of


7. Selection—“Reflections on the Delights of Spring.”

8. Essay—Addison’s Delineation of Woman’s Character.


A delightful entertainment for an evening can be given by preparing a
banquet at which the guests are to personate the characters introduced in
Addison’s “Vision of the Table of Fame.” These characters can be studied
from other sources, so that each person may be enabled fittingly to carry
on the representation during the time spent at the table.

The “Exercise of the Fan” can be prepared by a little practice so as to
afford much amusement.

For books of reference see Thackeray’s “English Humorists,” Aiken’s
“Memorials of Addison,” Macaulay’s “Life and Writings of Addison,” and
the books on English Literature.


1. Essay—The Aryan Race.

2. A Review Lesson—Questions from Chautauqua Text-Book, No. 5; Greek

3. Selection—“Orpheus and Eurydice.” By J. G. Saxe.

4. A Trip on Paper through the Soudan.


5. Story—“Circe’s Palace.” From Hawthorne’s “Tangle-Wood Tales.”

6. Book Review—“The Life of George Eliot.” By J. W. Cross.

7. A General Talk on the Mohammedan Power of To-day.

8. Question Box.


1. A Paper on the Introduction of Temperance Text-Books into the Public

2. Selections—“Prometheus” and “Epimetheus.” By Longfellow. [The two read
by different members.]

3. Brief Sketches of Literary Women who have assumed Masculine Pseudonyms.


4. Essay—What is the Oklahoma Boom?

5. A General Talk on the practical Home Use of the Study of Chemistry.

6. A Pronunciation Match—The circle chooses sides, the leader spells the
words, and the class pronounces.

7. Critic’s Report.


1. “Questions and Answers,” in review.

2. Essay—May-day as Observed in Olden Times. [It might be well to suggest
that a May-day suitably arranged for modern times would be fully as
enjoyable as it used to be.]

3. Recitation—“Phaëton,” by J. G. Saxe. Compare this with “The Story of
Phaëton,” by Addison.

4. Map Exercise—Locate all the most important battle fields of Greek


5. A Paper on the Foreign Service of the United States.

6. Essay—What Remains of Greek Art.

7. _Conversazione_—The Wrongs of the Indians as portrayed in Mrs.
Jackson’s “Ramona.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Knowing there are times and places in which every little helps, we
offer a few suggestions for Special Sunday. If they only serve as index
fingers, pointing out the way to fields where each can glean for himself
much more successfully and satisfactorily than to take what others have
gathered, they will accomplish a good purpose. To hopeful, earnest,
self-reliant workers with “eyes busy on things about us,” more help is
not needed, and perhaps not even this much. In addition to the vesper
service prepared, selections, essays or papers, and Bible studies can be
very profitably used.

From “The Literature of the Age of Elizabeth,” by William Hazlitt, the
part referring to the translation of the Bible is very fine. Also,
“Christianity the Great Remedy,” by Robert Charles Winthrop, LL.D. These
selections can be found in Allibone’s “Great Authors of All Ages.” In THE
CHAUTAUQUAN for January, 1885, “The Inner Chautauqua” is a good reading.
In _The Chautauqua Assembly Herald_ for August 9, 1884, “Mrs. Pickett’s
Missionary Box” Miss P. J. Walden, 36 Bromfield Street, Boston, will send
for three cents “Thanksgiving Ann.” Nothing could be better suited for
such a service than selections from Miss Havergal’s writings.

Themes for Essays are: “Personal Culture a Christian Duty.” “How Best can
I Help my Neighbor?” “Work in the Home Missionary Field.” “How to Make
the Sabbath a Beautiful Day.” Papers can be prepared on Bible customs
and manners, Bible lands, and Bible characters. With the aid simply of
a Concordance and a Reference Bible, interesting Bible studies on any
desired topic can be prepared. Hitchcock’s “Analysis of the Bible” would
afford great help in arranging work of this kind.



“_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.

The sensible, social way in which the February memorial days were
observed has brought to our mind a comment on Madame Mohl and her methods
of entertaining, how, “beyond ordering a good and abundant meal, she gave
little thought to the mere material details of her entertainments; but
she took great pains with the intellectual _menu_. She would give time
and thought and personal trouble to provide for each guest intellectually
what he would most enjoy, and would carefully consider whether this
person would like to meet the other, and to sit next So-and-So. Her
great preoccupation was the combining of congenial elements for all in
general and particular.” We feel very much as if our circles’ friends
have learned Madame Mohl’s wisdom. As if the long desired reform in the
methods of social entertainment was beginning in our own C. L. S. C.
family. To give entertainments where wit and wisdom and social freedom
prevail, where thoughts are more desired than feasts, and music and
art take the place of supper tables is, it may be, the Quixote and
blue-stocking way to-day—but it is the true social method. Any one who
will take a glance with us over the receptions, “socials,” “at homes,”
and public meetings which our circles held in February will, we believe,
conclude that it certainly is the C. L. S. C. idea of “society,” and of a
“good time.” Such delightful programs are rare to find.

Founder’s day is a new and very welcome occasion for observance, and
very many circles made it the time of a special or public meeting. Some
prepared an extra program, invited a few friends and spent a quiet
evening in pleasant, friendly talk and merriment; others prepared
a public meeting and strove to celebrate the day by increasing the
interest in the work. At FRANKLIN, NEW HAMPSHIRE, the “Webster” C. L.
S. C. had charge of a joint meeting. The program they carried out was
admirable. Two other Chautauqua societies assisted the “Websters” in the
entertainment; the “Pemigewassett” C. L. S. C., and the “Crystal” C. Y.
F. R. U.——February 27th was so close in the wake of February 23d that the
celebration of the two days was united in several places, with excellent
results, too, we should judge. At MILFORD, MASS., such a union meeting
was held. The circle numbers twenty-eight, and as each member was allowed
to invite one guest it made a goodly company. Vine wreathed portraits of
the two heroes of the evening decorated the tables of the parlor where
the circle met, and the program, divided into two portions, one devoted
to Chancellor Vincent, the other to Longfellow, was happily arranged.
We are glad that they have found out Lowell’s tribute to Longfellow; it
makes a very appropriate number.——At FOXBORO, MASS., the “Star” circle
quite distinguished itself by its celebration of Founder’s day. There
were present several out-of-town circles, among them those from Franklin,
Medfield, and Mansfield. In the notice which a local paper gave of this
affair, we find some comments which are particularly encouraging:
“Many have expressed their great delight at the manner in which the
whole entertainment was carried out, which shows that these seasons are
becoming more and more popular. Says a lady somewhere in the fifties,
‘How I wish there had been such an organization when I was young. My
advantages for gaining an education were limited. If my memory was not
so poor I should be tempted to join, even at this late day.’ Another
says: ‘I have enjoyed the whole program very much, and have got a better
idea of the work of the Circle from this evening’s entertainment than
from any other source.’ Still another: ‘I enjoyed the whole of it very
much indeed. The program was nicely carried out,’ and asks ‘Why don’t
the circle give such entertainments oftener, so that people can better
understand the object of this organization?’ Says a gentleman, a graduate
of one of the higher schools, ‘I enjoyed it immensely. The exercises
from the commencement to the close were very interesting.’ Another, ‘It
carried me back to school-days and spelling schools, and I thoroughly
enjoyed it, supper included.’”——At PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND, the plan of
the Milford circle was followed by the “Milton” circle. A paper on “The
Chautauqua Movement” was one feature of the evening. It seems to have
been an evening of practical work as well as pleasure, for good results
are promised us as an outcome of the meeting. The “Miltons” now number
twenty-two, an increase of seven over last year. Indeed, we can hardly
see how a meeting at all suitable for Founder’s day could do anything
else but convert people. It would necessarily be brimming over with such
sparkling ideas, such enticing plans, that the fortunate guests at such
an entertainment would very naturally want to join the company.——Another
circle, that at NORTHFIELD, OHIO, adopted this theory, and combined
the two memorial days, making their celebration a public meeting, to
which about sixty guests were invited. The program was very skillfully
arranged, including some excellent subjects for essays. The Northfield
circle was organized last year by ten “Pansies,” and has been recruited
this year by two of the class of ’88. A good idea of their program is
that they begin each evening’s work with the vesper service. The “quiz”
is a prominent feature of the evening, and as “discussion” sends them
home alert, interested, and sorry that the evening is over. A discussion
on a live subject, we would whisper to leaders, is one of the best
methods of making your circle sorry that it is time to stop, a result
which is the best possible proof of an enjoyable evening.——At SILVER
CREEK, NEW YORK, Founder’s day was celebrated with much enthusiasm by the
circle; an excellent program of the evening was prepared and published,
the week previous, in the local paper. The program was divided into three
parts—the first consisting of Chautauqua songs, mottoes, selections from
Founder’s writings or sayings, a sketch of his life, and appropriate
recitations; then a _petit souper_, and, on the principle, perhaps,
that the best should come last, part third consisted of the reading of
a letter from the Founder himself, sent in reply to a request from the
circle for only a few words, and of a poem from the poetess of the class
of 1886, Mrs. Cleveland.——The three Chautauqua circles of NEW ALBANY,
INDIANA, have now about seventy-five members, and all memorial days are
observed by them jointly. Among the several pleasant meetings of the
year, none have been so successful as Founder’s day. On the program of
exercises we notice that roll call was responded to by giving quotations
on the “Companionship of Books.” These were collected and printed in a
local paper for preservation in the circle’s scrap books. Prof. R. A.
Ogg, of the class of ’84, presented “The Founder and his Chautauqua Idea”
in his happiest manner. “The Founder at Chautauqua” was vividly pictured
by Rev. W. S. Austin, secretary of the class of ’86. Every Chautauquan
present left this memorial meeting with the expression upon his lips,
“The best of all our union meetings,” and the public were loud in their
praises of it.——The _sixth_ circle of MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN, young,
enthusiastic ’88s, all ladies, and hard at work for their own improvement
and for the advancement of their circle, make a right jubilant report
of the pleasant time they had with their friends of the “Beta” circle
on Founder’s day. They held their meeting in the afternoon, and carried
out the program very nearly as THE CHAUTAUQUAN prescribed. “To some of
us,” a member writes, “our second _alma mater_ bids fair to become even
dearer than the one of earlier remembrance.”——Right in tune with this
glad greeting is a message which comes from the circle at INDIANOLA,
IOWA, another circle that celebrated Founder’s day. “We have received
so many helpful hints and useful suggestions through your local circle
column, that we take courage to say: ‘May the Chautauqua work we love so
well go on until it spreads from east to west, from north to south.’” Our
Indianola friends were organized six years ago. Two of their number were
members of the first graduating class. A method of leadership, which we
believe to be very effective in a small circle, is pursued by them. It is
that each member take turns in the leadership of the circle.

The 27th of February is the memorial day most universally celebrated,
and this because, perhaps, our memories of Longfellow are so peculiarly
near and tender. This season the memorial services celebrated by the C.
L. S. C. were particularly prominent. To begin “at home,” the “Willis”
circle of PORTLAND, ME., gave a charming entertainment. From a Portland
paper we clip the following description: “The exercises were conducted
in a very unique and pleasing manner. One of the double parlors was
filled with about fifty invited guests, while the other, being fitted
up in representation of the Wayside Inn, was occupied by members of
the circle, each one representing in costume some one of Longfellow’s
characters. Each of the participants in the exercises was introduced
with appropriate selections by ‘John Alden,’ while by his side sat
‘Priscilla, the Puritan maiden.’ Other characters represented were the
‘Landlord and Daughter,’ ‘Evangeline,’ ‘Rabbi Ben Levi,’ ‘Astred, the
Abbess,’ ‘Precissa, the Gipsy,’ ‘Spanish Lady,’ ‘Hiawatha,’ ‘Minnehaha,’
‘Young Musician,’ ‘Paul Revere,’ ‘Theodore,’ and ‘Lady Wentworth.’ On
the whole, the entertainment was decidedly a novel affair and will be
long remembered by the members of the circle and their many friends.”
This “Willis” circle was organized last September, and numbers eighteen
members. They are blessed with the best of recommendations. They declare
that willingness and good nature are their prominent characteristics.
Certainly, with plenty of the sunlight and fresh air of society theirs,
it is not strange that they “look forward from one meeting to the
next, anticipating much pleasure and profit.” The “Dorionic” circle
of BIDDEFORD, MAINE, laid aside its studies for one evening and held
special exercises in honor of Longfellow. This circle has been doing
exceptionally thorough work in chemistry this winter. A full course of
lectures on the subject has been delivered in connection with the study
of the text-book on chemistry.——One of the most novel programs with which
we have been favored is from RICHMOND, ME. The “Merry Meeting” circle
send it. A gay Japanese napkin, on which the title page, the committees
and the exercises all find place. As in several of the programs, we find
that tableaux take a prominent position. No better interpretation of
striking scenes is possible than by _tableaux vivants_, and a strictly
literary program can be readily enlivened by a well selected scene.——The
Longfellow memorial day was especially and appropriately observed at OLD
TOWN. The pleasant and commodious vestry of the Congregational Church was
filled with the members and invited guests to the number of a hundred or
more. The program—an excellent one—contained beside its essays, readings
and music, extracts with tableaux from “Evangeline,” “Miles Standish”
and “Excelsior.” The “Old Town” circle is one of our new friends, having
been organized last October; young yet, but vigorous, for it numbers
already thirty-five members.——At CASTLETON, VERMONT, the “Lone Pine”
circle is doing very thorough work, and rejoicing in a good organization.
Their Longfellow memorial program was very complete; though they have
but fourteen members, they seemed to have no difficulty in securing the
music, essays and readings for a full program. The closing feature of
the evening was an informal _conversazione_ over their ice cream and
cake, on Longfellow. With such an entertaining “something to talk about”
the circle must have gone home full of ideas and happy thoughts.——A
very energetic effort was made recently by the “Berkeley” circle, of
BOSTON, MASS., to bring the Chautauquans of Boston and vicinity into
more intimate relations. A union meeting was the means chosen, and
Longfellow’s day was the time. Fifteen circles in all participated in
the exercises; among them were: “Phillips,” of South Boston; “Hurlbut,”
of East Boston; “People’s Church,” of Boston; “Parker Hill,” of Roxbury;
“Floral Society,” of Tremont Temple; “Longfellow,” of Cambridge;
“Pericles,” of Brighton; “Clark,” of Jamaica Plain; “Sherwin,” of
Dorchester; “Henry M. King,” of Roxbury; “The Pilgrims,” of Dorchester;
“Bromfield Street Church,” of Boston; “Berkeley,” of Boston. About fifty
persons were present. Letters were received from the Rev. B. P. Snow, the
president of the class of ’86, and Prof. W. F. Sherwin, who were unable
to attend. This brave effort to strengthen the bonds of fellow-feeling
will not be fruitless, we are sure. “Berkeley” circle, in undertaking
such a reunion, has instituted one of the most practical and useful
ways of increasing the breadth and strength of the C. L. S. C. It is to
be hoped that it will be made an annual feature of the Chautauqua work
of Boston.——The “Mount Hope” circle, of BRISTOL, R. I. believes in the
liberal use of printer’s ink. Accordingly, all of their meetings have
been reported in one or both of the papers most widely circulated in the
town. Three of the reviews which have been read before the circle this
year have been printed, and an essay read at their recent Longfellow
memorial also appeared. This “Memorial” was an unusually pleasant
affair.——The circle at GOUVERNEUR, N. Y., is the outgrowth of Mr.
Hurlbut’s teachings at Thousand Islands Park, one year ago last summer.
It has been successful beyond the hope of its organizers. At present its
membership is about twenty-five, and these are all hard workers. Some
two hundred of the circle’s friends met with them on February 27th to
celebrate the day. There was music, recitations in costume, and an essay
on a splendid subject—“Acadia”—and finally, a pleasant hour of social
life. This circle at Gouverneur has done great good in the community and
the members seem to grow more enthusiastic the longer their connection
with the circle lasts. Two features of their meetings which they find
very interesting are the review contest and conversation on a certain
given subject.——A flourishing C. L. S. C. exists at AMSTERDAM, N. Y. It
is composed of forty members—double the number of last year. The circle
recently celebrated Longfellow’s memorial day in a pleasant manner.
The program consisted of an essay on the poet and his works; music,
songs and readings, selected from Longfellow; “The Black Knight” and
“Nun of Nidaros” were read and illustrated by tableaux. The program
closed with a series of tableaux, taken from “Evangeline,” portions of
which were read.——The “Courtship of Miles Standish” was dramatized for
Longfellow’s day by the circle at JOHNSTOWN, N. Y., and with music and
a few additional numbers, made a very interesting program. This is the
first memorial day observed by the circle, and it brought together many
old Chautauquans, who professed themselves highly pleased with the vigor
of the circle. We hope that if any of these “old Chautauquans” are not
lending to the vigor of the circle, they will hasten after this happy
evening to renew their allegiance.——The program of a literary and musical
entertainment given on this chosen day by the circle at EAST NORWICH,
N. Y., has reached our table, in company with a genial letter about the
C. L. S. C. life of that town. “We have been sarcastically spoken of,”
our friend writes, “as that _great_ Chautauqua Circle, and no doubt
we have rather bored the people by our enthusiasm. Hawthorne compared
religion to a painted window in a cathedral; seen from the outside it
is not admirable, and one wonders that they can be so much praised; for
it must be viewed from the inside to see its full beauty. The C. L. S.
C., it seems to me, could be fittingly compared to the same thing. You
see, I know, for it is not very long since I was outside myself. Our
entertainment was a great success. We have considerable talent in our
circle, both elocutionary and musical.”——Another delightful entertainment
was the social given by the “Alyssum” to the “Argonaut” circle, of
BUFFALO, N. Y. The program was brightened by an excellent variety of
tableaux, refreshments were bountifully served, and the delighted guests
departed after a hearty vote of appreciation of the pleasant evening
with Longfellow.——The program carried out by the “Allegheny” circle of
PITTSBURGH was characteristic of the circle—that is, very good. This
circle always does something good.——The “Pansy” circle, of CHESTER, PA.,
observed the “Longfellow Memorial” in a very appropriate and spirited
manner, by a program which included the singing of Chautauqua songs,
sketches and recitations. A pretty feature was the reading of “The Nun
of Nidaros,” with organ accompaniment and tableaux. The greater portion
of “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” with numerous tableaux, was given.
The evening’s program ended with choruses from the songs. This “Pansy”
circle was organized last October and its membership is divided between
“Pansies” and “Plymouth Rocks.”——Another Pennsylvania circle formed last
fall is the “Longfellow,” of PHILADELPHIA. The circle is made up of eight
members. Their regular order of exercises is capitally arranged to cover
all points of the readings. They invited the “Sappho” circle to join with
them in commemorating Longfellow’s day, the members of both circles to
take equal part in the entertainment. They spent such a very pleasant and
profitable evening, that it has been decided to keep all the memorial
days in the same manner.——In a recent letter from a WASHINGTON, D. C.,
friend, we find the following interesting points about one of the circles
of that city: “The weekly meetings of ‘Parker C. L. S. C.’ during the
past winter have been, for the most part, very interesting. The annual
celebration of Longfellow’s day was no exception. An appropriate program
was carried out, one of the best features of which was the account of
the poet’s life. The whole time was divided into periods and assigned to
different members. After the exercises, Mr. Lowe, Engineer U. S. N., at
whose home the circle met, kindly gave a most interesting and instructive
account of the Greely Relief Expedition, by previous request, he having
been one of those brave rescuers. He was listened to with attention, and
the scenes he pictured were rendered more vivid by the exhibition of
various articles of fur clothing worn in that region, by photographs of
the relief ships, natives, etc., and also by some of the identical food
upon which Greely’s party were subsisting when found.”——The “Crescent”
circle, organized at FREMONT, IND., three years ago, would like to extend
greeting to their many fellow students, and claim a place in the great
family of workers who are reading the same books and thinking the same
thoughts. The circle is not large, but has abundant hope and ambition
to make the work enjoyable. Every meeting is a treat to them, they
say. They, too, observed Longfellow’s day and carried out an excellent
program, in which some of the “little folks” carried off high honors
for their share in tableaux and charades.——At HAMPSHIRE, ILL., the
most interesting memorial service of the year was that celebrated on
Longfellow’s day. A large audience collected to listen to the exercises
and went away seemingly well satisfied with the ability of Chautauquans
to furnish an evening which should be both literary and social. This
circle is doing good work in Hampshire. The members are more active
than ever, and there is a prospect of an increase in numbers.——Another
delightful parlor entertainment was that at ELK HORN, WISCONSIN. The
circle, bubbling over with C. L. S. C. devotion, mingled an occasional
purely Chautauqua subject with the _Longfellowana_, not at all to the
detriment of the program, so we think. At the close of the literary
exercises, the guests, numbering about forty, were invited to a lunch,
in quality and quantity “fit for a king.” Then came the “good-nights,”
and each guest left with the wish that C. L. S. C. might long continue
to flourish, and that such evenings might be in the ascendant among
the diversions of the town.——A dainty invitation has come to us to be
present at the Longfellow memorial exercises and social reunion held
March 2, at the Grand Avenue Congregational Church in MILWAUKEE, WIS.
The program which accompanied it has an essay subject which we hope
our friends will tuck away in their memories for next year’s use. It
is “The Women of Longfellow’s Writings.”——A houseful of Chautauquans
and their friends gathered on the evening of Longfellow’s day at one of
the delightful homes of MARSHALLTOWN, IOWA. The “Vincent” and “Alden”
circles held a joint meeting which was a source of great pleasure to
both the Chautauquans and guests present. The social notes of the local
paper of Marshalltown contain a very complimentary reference to this
pleasant affair.——Along with the notice of a Longfellow dinner given by
the secretary of the circle at MAPLE HILL, KANSAS, comes a sparkling
letter of the birth and growth of that same circle. Perhaps it will be
more suggestive than even the pleasant exercises of the dinner would
be. Our correspondent writes: “It would be too long a story to tell
of the first infection of the secretary of this circle by visiting a
_live_ Chautauquan in Topeka during the fall of 1883. Enough to say, she
‘caught’ the fever, as the diagnosis plainly showed. The first pronounced
symptom, enthusiasm, was increased by the purchase of Pansy’s ‘Hall
in the Grove,’ and finally culminated in the Chautauqua brain fever.
She went home and showed a ‘method in her madness’ by inoculating her
friends through the loan of that same ‘Hall in the Grove,’ and she was
delighted to see the usual symptoms develop in due course of time. This
same secretary was dubbed the ‘She-Talker’ by her friends, but all to no
purpose, so far as discouragements go, for she had the satisfaction of
forming a class in November of 1883, consisting of four members. Now be
it known, Maple Hill is a sparsely settled farming town, made up mostly
of large farms and ranches, and this makes it the more difficult to carry
on such an enterprise. We, however, read on during the winter, but were
disappointed when the fall of 1884 came round, to find that one of our
most enthusiastic members had ‘taken a school’ some twelve miles away,
and would have to read on alone, ‘probably,’ but before our first month
had passed we had taken five new names, and had adopted two honorary
members, who, although they were fully in sympathy with the movement,
could not this year take up the regular line of work. So we number eight
regular members, making a class of ten. It would make my letter too long
to tell of all our work. Our readings have been not only profitable, but
exceeding pleasant this ‘long and dreary winter,’ and this united class
of ’87-88 extend the right hand of fellowship to their comrades all over
our goodly land.”——At CHANUTE, KANSAS, the memorial service was equally
pleasant. The circle there is composed of seventeen members, and they
all contributed their best to make the program bright and taking. The
success which attended their efforts is peculiarly gratifying, when we
remember that for all save one of the members this is the first year
of C. L. S. C. work.——Longfellow’s day was appropriately observed at
CLINTON, MISSOURI, by the “Excelsior” circle, with a program modeled
on that published in THE CHAUTAUQUAN. This circle, organized with four
members, now numbers nineteen, all ladies. There is a growing interest
in the work at CLINTON which insures future prosperity and increase of
strength.——“Out among the Rockies,” at BOULDER, COLORADO, Longfellow’s
day was appropriately observed by the circle. The meeting was made doubly
pleasant by the fact that February 27th is the birthday of the hostess
of the occasion.——“Central” circle of SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA, has
never yet been reported to THE CHAUTAUQUAN. It was organized in 1883,
and reorganized in 1884, with a membership of twenty-three, fourteen of
whom belong to the “Plymouth Rocks,” ’88. Their plan of work is to have a
special leader for each study, and a paper or select reading has a place
in nearly every program. Longfellow’s day was observed in a pleasing
manner. In addition to a biography of the poet, each chapter of which was
written by a different member, “The Bridge,” and “The Day is Done” were
sung, and “The Builders” given as a recitation. At roll call responses
were given from Longfellow’s most beautiful thoughts. A good degree of
interest is manifested, and young and old find places in their ranks. Two
of the members expect to graduate this year, but, writes one of them, “I
shall be none the less a ‘Chautauquan,’ for that I intend to be through

A large number of new circles are reported this month, with a few which,
though organized for some time, have never be fore reported to us. At
AUGUSTA, MAINE, a circle of fourteen members was formed in October
last. The circle has been so interesting that the numbers usually swell
beyond the actual fourteen—a good sign of the manner in which the circle
conducts its meetings. They have observed the memorial days, and send
us an excellent program of the Longfellow exercises. One of the numbers
on this occasion was an original poem—from the pen of a “Pansy,” we
suspect—one stanza of which we quote:

    “Take whatever God sends,
     As the blossoming pansies do;
     He clothes them with royal grace;
     Shall he not take thought for you?
     Trust—for the trustful heart
     Knoweth the tenderest leading,
     Knoweth how certainly God
     Our need and our craving is heeding.”

The “Garfield” circle, at LEWISTON, MAINE, a new circle of seven members,
gives us a delightful glimpse of their C. L. S. C. hour: “Our president
is a dressmaker, and ‘we girls,’ or at least four of us, work for her.
We have reading in the shop nearly every day, forty minutes or more, and
then talk of what we read. Almost a Socratic school in a dressmaker’s
shop! Friday evening of each week the shop takes on another look. The
work is put away, the table drawn out, the bright cloth laid, the lamps
trimmed and burning; the members take their seats and place at the ‘table
square,’ and for two or three hours we spend a refreshing and enjoyable
evening. We find the programs in THE CHAUTAUQUAN very useful, but always
have to add to and rearrange the parts, for we all want to do something
for the next meeting. Arrangements were made by the presidents of the
‘Garfield’ and ‘Scott’ circles to have a union meeting on Longfellow
day. We spent a delightful evening. The work was divided between the
two circles, and we all felt much benefited by the meeting. We heartily
recommend the occasional union meeting.”

There are over twenty-one regular members in the “Alpha” circle of
MELROSE, MASS., though it was started only last October, and any amount
of enterprise. The secretary writes many appreciating words of the C. L.
S. C.: “This is my fourth year,” she says, “but I can echo the sentiment
expressed by some one in the last CHAUTAUQUAN—‘Once a Chautauquan, always
a Chautauquan’—and rejoice to think that it is by no means my last year.
I hope to send you annual greetings from our circle, for we anticipate
a future for it.”——A share of the honor which is bestowed upon the
circles of ’88 certainly belongs to the “Hestia” circle, of LEOMINSTER,
MASS. Their motto, _Festina lente_, they are faithfully carrying out. In
addition to the Chautauqua course, they are taking a systematic course
in botany, which they expect to enjoy very much this coming summer. One
of their number is a zealous student in botany and chemistry, and is a
great help to them in these branches, performing all the experiments, and
explaining the difficult points.

The “Gardner” circle was organized in PASCOAG, R. I., last November,
with a membership of seven, which rapidly grew to its present number of
twenty-two, all, with the exception of two, “Pansies,” of the class of
’88. The circle was named in honor of Mr. E. P. Gardner, of Norwich,
Conn., to whose inspiring words it owes its formation. The interest of
the members is steadily increasing, and although few of the number are
persons of leisure, yet the earnest work accomplished by this circle, we
are confident, would cheer the hearts of those who love the C. L. S. C.

A second circle in PLAINFIELD, N. J., has met with a cordial
recommendation from Dr. Hurlbut. There is no lack of enthusiasm in the
new circle. The members are thoroughly pleased by the readings, and
give a hearty support to the work, writing many interesting papers.
At a recent meeting it was decided that the circle be hereafter known
as the “Hurlbut” circle, in recognition of the assistance which has
been received by them from the able C. L. S. C. worker, the Rev. J. L.
Hurlbut.——At PHILADELPHIA, PA., so a note informs us, the “Arcadia”
circle was organized in February, with a membership of five, and a
promise of gathering in more.——On February 16th, through the efforts of
Mrs. Dr. Seeley, a circle of the C. L. S. C. was organized at JEFFERSON,
OHIO, which at present numbers thirteen members. It is the first circle
organized in the place, although two of the members are graduates of
’82.——The C. L. S. C. of ELLSWORTH, OHIO, has never before been noticed
in THE CHAUTAUQUAN. A circle of seven members was organized there more
than a year ago. Each made an effort to enlarge the circle this year, but
succeeded in obtaining but one new member. It is a country place, and the
members are scattered, but meet occasionally; although they can not meet
often they are busy workers.

This little note from IOWA explains itself: “We are glad to announce an
organized local circle in IOWA CITY, of eleven members. At our first
meeting we received an invitation from the Nineteenth Century Club,
to attend a lecture given by the president of the State University.
Subject: ‘Our National Constitution.’ We are all enthusiastic over the
C. L. S. C., are working now for a large membership to begin fall work
in time.”——At HOPKINTON a circle was formed last October of fourteen
members. A bright, interested circle it is, too, quite up to the times in
the variety and quality of its fortnightly exercises. The special days
afford much pleasure to the circle. College day was spent in a half day’s
visit to their flourishing local college, Lenox.

At the confluence of the Vermillion and Missouri rivers in the town of
VERMILLION, DAKOTA TERRITORY, a new circle came to life in November last.
The circle has an active membership of twelve, consisting of lawyers,
teachers, printers, university students, milliners, business men and
their wives. Among the special features of the circle may be mentioned
that of thorough interest in the readings; special effort to acquire
accuracy in pronunciation; the utmost freedom in conversing about,
and discussing questions that incidentally arise during the evening’s
reading; essays on the important facts of the subjects considered; and
the roll call, the responses thereto being made by reciting mottoes,
wise sayings, proverbs, quotations from the poets, brief descriptions of
foreign countries (the assignments for this exercise having been made at
a previous meeting). At its next meeting the responses will consist of
three minute biographical sketches of eminent American statesmen.——Still
another new circle sends greetings from the heart of the Rockies. A class
of three has been formed at GUNNISON, COLORADO, and neither the small
number nor their far-away home dampens their ardor. They are “greatly
interested, and feel a thousand times repaid.”

Several of our senior friends from NEW YORK have come in with
how-do-you-dos and cheerful news this month. The C. L. S. C. readers
in the “Flower City” (ROCHESTER) have not been idle during the past
months, and although, like most Chautauquans, they are busy men and
women—teachers, professional and business men, housekeepers and
students—still they find time to keep abreast with the prescribed
reading, and do not fail to attend the meetings of the circle. The circle
is known as a section of the Rochester Academy of Science. By affiliating
with this body they secure an excellent hall for a place of meeting, as
well as increased dignity and importance, and frequently members of other
sections are attracted to their meetings as interested spectators. Their
circle was reorganized early in the fall, starting off with nearly twice
as many members as last year. They hold meetings twice a month, and the
interest and attendance are constantly increasing. The leaders in the
Academy of Science, at first somewhat adverse to connection with them,
are only too glad now to welcome the circle in their monthly meetings,
and the vice president of the circle is now the corresponding secretary
of the Academy. There are about fifty active members, and many others
are quietly pursuing the course of reading. In character they are quite
cosmopolitan, representing extremes in age and character, as well as
every C. L. S. C. class, from that of ’82 to that of ’88. The president
is an old Chautauquan, and although an active business man, never
misses a meeting; other leading members are quite as punctual in their
attendance.——At ANDOVER the circle of nine is steadily working away, and
with good results, too, for their work has brought this experience: “We
all agree that the C. L. S. C. has brought a blessing and inspiration
into our lives, and we give to all its projects our undivided and
unswerving loyalty.”——At SOUTH LANSING the C. L. S. C. has lost one of
its most devoted workers. Miss Emma Morrison, a member of the class of
’84, died at her home October 21, 1884.——Another bereaved circle is that
of OLEAN. Nelson F. Butler, a warm admirer of the Chautauqua work, and
a leader in the “Philomathic” circle, was taken from them February 20,
1885.——“Les Huguenots,” of NEW PALTZ, N. Y., was organized in 1883, since
which time the circle has increased from fifteen to twenty-seven. The
programs, prepared two weeks in advance, are very bright and interesting.
The circle is faithful, and work promises well for the future.——Some
excellent suggestions, and aptly called too, come from WEBSTER’S CORNERS,
N. Y., where the “Iota” class of Orchard Park entered upon its second
year’s work last October. It is at present composed of fourteen earnest
members, the classes of ’84, ’86, ’87 and ’88 being represented. The aim
of the class has been to make its meetings as informal as possible,
and this year it has succeeded. Among their exercises are roll call,
responded to by quotations or facts, talks on some given topic, select
readings, pronouncing contests, and the question box. To vary the program
a “basket of facts” is sometimes substituted for the usual question box.
Sometimes they have conundrums on Greek History. One feature of a recent
program which gave an excellent drill, besides affording much amusement,
was a Greek memory test, consisting of twelve facts from Greek History.
At first the leader gives but one fact, the class repeating it. As each
additional fact is given, the ones previously given are repeated in
reverse order. For instance, after the twelfth is given, all are repeated
in this order—12th, 11th, 10th, 9th, … 2d, 1st. They have also had “An
Historical Lingo,” commencing about 900 B. C., and giving prominent facts
in Greek History down to the year 145 B. C., when the Romans controlled

Several PENNSYLVANIA items are at hand, too. The “Emanon” circle, of WEST
PHILADELPHIA, now in its second year, is meeting with good success. The
members of this circle have been delighted with the studies ever since
the organization—no one regrets, they say, having joined the circle.
While actively engaged in the literary, historical, and other studies,
they pay more attention to the scientific studies, probably because
they have more advantages in that direction. The circle has access to
a very fine microscope, and is one of the circles to whom Mr. Hall, of
Jamestown, N. Y., sends slides with instructions regarding them, and the
preparation of the same. Again, they have a good outfit of chemicals
and chemical appliances for experimenting in chemistry; also the use
of stereopticon views, to illustrate some studies. And while thus well
equipped in various instruments and appliances to help in their studies,
it should be added that they are largely—indeed, altogether—indebted
to their instructor, Mr. John S. Rodgers, for the explanation of these
branches of study.——At LOCK HAVEN the circle has been enjoying a good
winter, and prominent in their work has been chemistry, many experiments
having been performed for them by an interested friend.——At the Y. M. C.
A. parlors of HARRISBURG a meeting was held on March 20th, the program of
which we have received. It has some very pleasant features.

An excellent method of work has been adopted at BAYONNE CITY, NEW
JERSEY. Each member makes a specialty of some subject in the course, and
is prepared to furnish an article on the subject at any meeting when
called upon, and also to answer any questions on that subject from the
question box. The “Pamrapo” circle has ten members and one officer, a
president—they do, however, have an extra official, a journalist, who is
appointed at each meeting.

As enjoyable a C. L. S. C. banquet as we have heard of this year was
that held in AKRON, OHIO. The circle entertained its friends royally on
this occasion, some one hundred of whom were seated at the supper table.
A happy surprise of the affair was an unexpected visit from Chancellor
Vincent, who responded to the toast, “Chautauqua.” A fine speech was
made by President Lewis Miller. “This is an age of quick things,” he
said, giving an apt illustration of his remark by referring to his
telephone talk with Dr. Vincent, at Cleveland, forty miles away, but for
which conversation, voice to voice, Dr. Vincent would not have been the
guest of the Akron C. L. S. C. Because one could talk with Pittsburgh
by telegraph—by the quick medium which was the product of this latter
day—did not obviate the necessity for the longer or slower trip by rail,
requiring hours. In fact, the telegram might be only a preliminary to
the trip by car. As this is an age of quick things, so it is an age of
condensed things. The student sweeps over 1,000 years of history—of great
events—in the story of an hour. This is the work of the C. L. S. C. It
takes these broad, quick views of the great events in the world’s life.
And because the C. L. S. C. student makes this general survey, we are
not to infer that he is content with that. It is the hour’s study in the
history of the Roman empire that precedes the trip to Rome.

“Though we are so late in reporting the existence of our little circle,
known as the ‘Philomaths,’ of ACKLEY, IOWA, we are confident that none
other has been carrying on the season’s work with more enthusiasm than
our own. September 19, 1884, we organized with an enrollment of ten;
since that time the number has increased to fourteen—all ‘Plymouth
Rocks.’ Each member leads a busy life, yet we meet each Friday evening,
and are convinced that we can not spend our few spare minutes more
profitably than in following the C. L. S. C. readings. Our programs,
prepared by an efficient board of three members, are based on the
proposed programs of THE CHAUTAUQUAN, and are published each week in the
town papers. The quotations selected as responses are brought into the
circle on uniform slips of paper and are preserved in a ‘Mark Twain Scrap
Book.’ In course of time we shall possess a very choice collection of
‘gems.’ Bryant and Milton days were observed in their turn, as was also
a Burns day. We are all delighted with the work, and our only regret
is that the wave reached us no sooner.”——“We have organized in our
village—BLANCHARD—a local circle of the class of ’87, of eleven members.
This year we have nineteen members, one being a lady seventy-four years
old, a graduate of the class of ’82. We hold our meetings weekly, members
answering by quotations. We pursued THE CHAUTAUQUAN plan of questions and
answers last year very successfully, and are proceeding in the same way
this, although our programs vary according to the option of the leader.
We usually have written questions on the readings in THE CHAUTAUQUAN.
The work has proven pleasant and profitable.”——Another IOWA circle
from which we are very glad to hear is that of GRUNDY CENTER. They had
the misfortune to have their goodly membership of fifteen of last year
dwindled down to five when they started last fall, but their enthusiasm
was too much for discouragement. They have “caught up” again, and now are
a democratic assembly composed of three ministers, Methodist, Baptist
and Presbyterian, and their wives, one doctor, four lawyers, an editor,
and two school teachers, a banker’s wife, two merchants’ wives, a county
officer and two farmers.

It is a matter of congratulation that the CHATTANOOGA, TENNESSEE,
branch has joined the “local circles.” The cheery letter giving their
past history is a guarantee that we will get the lines from them giving
accounts of their future progress which they promise to send from time
to time: “We have a very active little circle in Chattanooga, and think
we have accomplished a fair amount of work in a short time, and under
somewhat adverse circumstances. In the latter part of March, 1883, seven
of us met and organized a class. We hoped and expected to increase our
numbers in a short time, but resolved to pursue the course of reading
and cling together, whether successful or unsuccessful in our efforts
to induce others to do likewise. A month passed before we got fairly
to work, the Chautauqua term being then two thirds gone. We preferred,
however, doing double work and studying during the summer months to
waiting until the following October to commence. We completed the first
year’s reading in December, and were ready to begin the third year the
first of last October. Our meetings are intensely interesting, for we
are all in love with the course, and intend to finish it. Our silence
respecting our circle and its work is attributable to the fact of our
work and the jealous economy of every moment of time. We hope, however,
to forward an account of our progress from time to time.”

“We can not do without the Chautauqua movement here,” so writes the
secretary of the circle at KAHOKA, MISSOURI. The class of workers there
is large, including twenty-two regular members, beside many local ones.
They are studious and regular, and as a result interested. Last year this
circle held an open session in June, which was very successful, and they
are looking forward hopefully to the next one.

The _personnel_ of the circle at COLUMBUS, NEBRASKA, is very striking,
and, we think, decidedly an advantage. Here is what the secretary
says: “One farmer, one teacher (our pioneer, all honor to her), one
book-keeper, and two housewives. We are also decidedly cosmopolitan; one
hailing from Switzerland, another from Alsace, one from Nova Scotia,
and two from Ohio. One Nihilist, four woman suffragists (the ladies
included), four prohibitionists, but all enthusiastic Chautauquans.
What we lack in quantity we make up in quality, versatility and power.
Our Longfellow anniversary was a right pleasant affair, and instructive
withal. ‘Ah, that’s the way you literary people entertain yourselves!’
exclaimed one aged visitor. Our town is not a ‘literary’ one, by any
means. Saloons, skating rinks and ball rooms seem to crush all upward
tendencies. It is evident that a mingling of people from the four
quarters of the globe has a depressing effect on public morals here.”

At SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH, much more interest is taken in the Chautauqua
readings this year than ever before. The circle has regularly observed
memorial days. It meets every Tuesday evening. The roll call, responded
to by quotations from different authors, is always profitable and
entertaining. The Rev. T. C. Iliff, pastor of the Methodist Church, is
the president. He is an enthusiastic leader, and frequently entertains
them with accounts of his travels in many of the places mentioned in the
Greek studies. In its platform the circle is broadly Chautauquan, four
churches being represented. A class in the “Spare-Minute Course” has
lately been organized in Salt Lake City, composed mostly of pupils from
the various schools in the city. Excellent work is being done.

We are heartily glad that our loyal Chautauqua worker, Mr. Burnell,
brought out the SEATTLE friends who were consenting to hide their light
under a bushel. Here is a second come forward to vindicate Seattle’s C.
L. S. C. honor. However, it must be said, in order to in turn vindicate
Mr. Burnell, that his work on his western tour was evangelistic, that his
efforts to aid the C. L. S. C. was an extra labor of love, done because
his heart was so warm toward Chautauqua, so zealous for her welfare
that he was glad to use any effort to extend her usefulness. He was in
Seattle only a few hours and was driven with work all the time. It is not
strange that he did not find the workers which now come so valiantly to
the front. As we said before, we are glad Mr. Burnell has “brought them
out.” And here is the second vindication. It contains much excellent
news about the work in that section: “The article from K. A. Burnell
is entirely behind the times. Three active circles are in Seattle, with
an average attendance of forty in all. The University of Washington
has just arranged a series of twelve lectures, six on ‘Chemistry,’ and
six on the ‘Greek College Course.’ Professor G. O. Curme, Professor of
Greek, Latin and German, is an earnest worker and enthusiastic lecturer
on Greek history and literature, and four of the professors are actively
engaged in the course. An executive committee of five from each circle,
and two from the university faculty, have organized to hold a Chautauqua
Assembly on Puget Sound the coming summer, and the teachers of the public
schools are in full sympathy with the movement. The first public movement
in the Chautauqua course known to me was the formation of a literary
society for the study of American authors, in the Seattle Baptist Church,
September, 1883, at which THE CHAUTAUQUAN was regularly read for one
year. This society resolved itself into a Chautauqua circle the first of
September, 1884, and engaged Prof. G. O. Curme, Prof. C. B. Johnson and
J. C. Sundberg, M. D., to lecture before its members. Other circles were
formed, and a general society centered in the university, resulting in
the present combination, as above stated. I think there will be twenty
circles in Puget Sound next year.”



“_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 thousands of men and women who belong to the Chautauqua Class of
1885 are beginning, we think, to feel the pressure of the responsibility
of their position—which is something more than that which has rested
upon the shoulders of their honored predecessors; that the expectations
of the Chautauqua public are becoming higher, year by year; that what
was equal to the great occasion in former years will not meet the hopes
that will be entertained by the masses of people who will be gathered
on the grounds this year. The readings must not only be faithfully and
intelligently completed, so that the diplomas may be earned and received,
but it should be the purpose of every member to answer, entire, the list
of questions submitted, and answer them correctly. And an organized
attempt should be made to secure the attendance of all members of the
class who can possibly be present on Commencement day. We should have a
larger class present in front of the Golden Gate than has ever appeared
in that conspicuous place. Members should commence their preparations
at once, and so arrange matters as to enable them to do their part in
swelling the ranks of a class which is to honor itself by the work of the
year, and by the demonstration of strength and spirit which shall bring
it to the front at the supreme hour!

For Chautauqua is growing! And its career is onward, and upward, and
outward! It has planted itself in hundreds of cities and villages
throughout the land, and in some other lands, and in thousands of social
circles it has shown an influence and potency that is not only wholesome,
but inspiring and wonderful. Well may the class of 1885 sing in behalf of
the whole fraternity:

    “No pent-up Utica contracts our powers;
     The whole boundless continent is ours!”

And the whole world, too! For Chautauqua is not only reaching outward, in
all countries, but the peoples of all climes and zones are beginning to
reach toward Chautauqua. Her representatives have their hands upon the
machinery which moves many of the country’s most important enterprises;
the new administration could not carry on its work without Chautauquans,
and we can not now tell whereunto this great thing will grow. For the end
is not yet. Chautauqua has only made a fair beginning. Let us hope that
Dr. Vincent and Mr. Lewis Miller will live to experience a long series
of annual surprises at the wonderful developments and achievements of

The work of generating, cultivating, and executing the first of these
surprises belongs to the class of ’85. Classes of former years have
done so well that it will require thought, and effort, and scheming,
and coöperation, and energetic pushing on the part of our class to do
better! There must be hard studying, and close figuring on expenses,
and a vast deal of management, and a world of rallying and enthusiastic
work, if we are to have the best and the largest of classes at the
foot of the Chautauqua Acropolis this year! But let us have it! Let
the ’Eighty-Fivers, of all classes, sexes and colors, flock toward
Chautauqua early in August, from Oregon, and California, and Texas, and
Florida, and Canada, and England, and China, and India, and the Soudan,
with a common impulse, and inspiration, and a common purpose to honor
their _alma mater_ and the cause of popular, intellectual and moral
culture, and growth, and progress, which she represents.

       *       *       *       *       *

NOTES FROM MEMBERS.—One lady, mother of two little children, writes: “I
only wish every young mother in this land could see her way clear to try
this course, not only for her own pleasure, but the influence it would
have on her home.”

       *       *       *       *       *

Another from Massachusetts, “the solitary ’85” in a circle of fourteen,
writes: “I read alone for a year, then succeeded in starting a circle. I
have had some advantages of education, but this C. L. S. C. has made my
life very different from what it would have been without it.”

       *       *       *       *       *

From Philadelphia, likewise, report comes of good work by the ’85s, who
organized the “Ivy” circle of that city.

       *       *       *       *       *

An “Invincible” asks, “Why can not the class of ’85 have a seal for
reading the course of biographies, etc., which was provided for the ’84s
last year?”

       *       *       *       *       *

A classmate now residing in Kansas challenges all his fellow-students
that, being born in the year in which the battle of Waterloo was fought,
he is the oldest—_no, the youngest_, who will claim his diploma this year
among the “Invincibles.” Does any one dispute the honor? His letter,
together with many others, will be read at our class gatherings at
Chautauqua, the coming season. Let us all be there.

       *       *       *       *       *

Those of the ’85s who can not possibly be at Chautauqua this summer,
but who can visit, if for only one day, Ocean Grove, N. J., will be
pleased to learn that during the Sunday-school Assembly exercises at
that popular resort, C. L. S. C. Recognition services will be held, July
29th, and then those who have won their parchments can not only obtain
them, but also hear eloquent words of congratulation from Dr. Vincent,
who has consented to be present. All who expect to be present, and desire
their diplomas, should send their names immediately to the Rev. E. H.
Stokes, D.D., the president of Ocean Grove, or the Rev. B. B. Loomis,
Superintendent of Instruction for Ocean Grove Assembly, at Troy, N. Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is proposed that the “Invincibles,” after their graduating exercises
are over, publish in a small volume the Baccalaureate Sermon by
Chancellor Vincent, Oration by Bishop Warren, Class Poem by Mrs. Frank
Beard, the Memorabilia of the Class Meetings, and whatever else may be
deemed of interest. Such a book could be issued and bound in cloth, in
class colors, for fifty cents each, or seventy-five cents in gilt edges,
if (500) five hundred copies are desired. If enough names are received by
Miss M. M. Canfield, our secretary, Washington, D. C., before July 1st,
arrangements will be made to issue the book.

       *       *       *       *       *

Many inquiries are still made, notwithstanding several explanations have
been given in this column, as to the purpose of the class fund. It is
that we may present to our _alma mater_ a suitable remembrance of the
“Invincibles.” Just what it shall be will be decided by the class at
Chautauqua, at such time as the largest representation may be on the
grounds. Every true ’85 should send their contribution at once to Miss
Carrie Hart, Treas., Aurora, Ind, as it is very desirable to have as
little of this business to do at Chautauqua as possible; we want all the
moments then for the ever-to-be-remembered “good time coming,” when we
meet as a class at the Hall in the Grove.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Rev. J. H. Vincent, D.D., Chancellor of the Chautauqua University,
will conduct Recognition services for the benefit of ’85s who can not
be at Chautauqua, at Ocean Grove, N. J., July 29th, and at Framingham
Assembly in July—date to be announced in next CHAUTAUQUAN.


“_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.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Allegheny, Pa., circle, Class of ’87, is gaining a reputation for
enthusiasm and thoroughness of work. They hold regular meetings, have
printed programs, and sometimes are entertained at times of meetings or
excursions, at a good hotel.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Toledo, Ohio, circle, with the Rev. H. M. Bacon for its president,
issues a beautiful program of the whole course of winter meetings, with a
list of the memorial days, put in handsome shape.

       *       *       *       *       *

The officers of the class are in receipt of many pleasant letters,
speaking among other things of many letters which have been written to
Pansy containing suggestions about the class memorial book which is
expected from her pen, and which will receive most enthusiastic welcome
from every member of the class.

       *       *       *       *       *

As the dreary winter weather is likely at last to give way to spring,
Pansy blossoms are appearing on paper in preparation for their appearance
in the memorial Pansy bed, which it is hoped will be a treasured
improvement in the Chautauqua grounds.

       *       *       *       *       *

Williamsburg, Kansas, writes of a circle of forty members, all but two of
whom are members of ’88. These two delightful Pansy blossoms, a minister
and his wife, represent the class of ’87.

       *       *       *       *       *

Here is a C. L. S. C. inspiration from a lonely but enthusiastic reader
in New Virginia, Iowa: “I have never had the benefit of a circle, and
could seldom attend if one were here, having four small children, the
eldest of whom is not yet seven, and besides, I am trying to fill my
mission as the wife of a pastor whose work takes him much away from home.
After the little ones are tucked up in bed, and the good-nights are
spoken, I find it delightful to rest with my book and reading for an hour
or more. I am determined that my husband with his studies shall not leave
me far behind. Two years is a long look ahead, but I am planning for that
one trip to Chautauqua, when I shall hope to grasp the hand of many an

       *       *       *       *       *

The Lower Oswego Falls circle, New York, is doing a most excellent work
by downright hard study, in their class meetings.

       *       *       *       *       *

The circle in Hartford, Conn., with Secretary Steven for its president,
issues a fine program for its meetings, which already for this winter run
into the twenties.

       *       *       *       *       *

A new circle has been organized in Chicago, called the Oakland circle.
All of its members belong to the Pansy class, though that can not account
for their all being ladies. They are doing a most excellent work.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Great gifts are not given to all,
     Great tasks from all not required.
     The Master is just—faithful use
     Of talent is all desired.

    “Neglect not the gift that is in thee,”
     Oh! heed well that resonant call;
     Teach, write, or speak, at its bidding—
     To thy work, ere the shadows fall.

                                           —_Margaret Heath, Class ’87._

       *       *       *       *       *

Miss Eliza Gummage, a member of the class of ’87, recently died at her
home in Lewiston, Me. She was a devoted and enthusiastic Chautauquan.

       *       *       *       *       *

MASSACHUSETTS.—I am a member of the Pansy class, but am entirely alone in
my reading. My attempts to form a circle have not yet been successful.
Not because our people are not interested in all good work, but they
have some “first loves” in the way of clubs, the proceeds from which are
appropriated for good at home or abroad. Still I hope that very soon they
will expand their hearts and take in the C. L. S. C., the benefits of
which are so many. I read with much interest all items from our class.
In fact, I think the Pansy column is the first thing I look for upon
the arrival of THE CHAUTAUQUAN. I am not only alone in my reading, but
have not the acquaintance of a single member of the great family of
“Chautauquans.” However, I am far from discouraged, and look forward to
meeting a goodly array of Pansies in ’87.

       *       *       *       *       *

Miss Flora Warren Potter, a member of “Pansy” class (’87), C. L. S. C.,
and of “Union” circle, of Washington, D. C., died in that city on the
evening of March 20th, at the residence of her brother-in-law, Geo. H.
Walker, Washington correspondent of the Cleveland _Leader_. Becoming a
member of the C. L. S. C., she foresaw the advantages and possibilities
which it opened out before her, and though an humble toiler in the work,
none loved it more than she. At five o’clock on the Sabbath afternoon
following her death, at the regular Chautauqua vesper hour, funeral
services were held in the Union M. E. Church, the members of “Union”
circle being present in a body and rendering the music, some new and
choice selections, on the occasion.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the past winter the C. L. S. C. lost a devoted member of the class of
’87 in Miss Maggie R. Elwell, of Salem, New Jersey. Most appreciative
resolutions of condolence and respect were sent the bereaved friends by
the Salem circle.


“_Let us be seen by our deeds._”


    _President_—The Rev. A. E. Dunning, D.D., Boston, Mass.

    _Vice Presidents_—Prof. W. N. Ellis, 108 Gates Avenue, 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, in condensed form, to
    the Rev. C. C. McLean, St. Augustine, Florida.

We give name, locality, and number of members of new circles formed:
“Kate F. Kimball,” Minneapolis, Kan., 12; “Delta,” Norwich, Conn., 16;
Orlando, Fla., 20; “Evening Star,” Torreyville, N. Y., 7; “Oird,” Oird,
Mich., 27; “Lawrence,” Chillicothe, O., 18; “Souri,” Blair, Neb., 22;
“Progressives,” Danielsonville, Conn., 16; “Colton,” Colton, Cal., 16;
“Gleaners,” Zumbrota, Minn.; “Euclid,” Vicksburg, Miss., 18; “Olympic,”
Yarmouth, Me., 14; “Adelphic Union,” Holden, Mo., 21; South Manchester,
Conn., 50; oldest member seventy-four, youngest sixteen; West Lebanon, N.
Y., few members; Carpinteria, Cal., 8; Hopkinton, Ia., 12; Tiffin, O.,
organized with 6, now 13; “St. Johns,” Toledo, O., 26, was organized by
a “lone member.” In Barrie, Ontario, Canada, the enthusiasm of 5 enrolled
24 more; smallest attendance has been 16. Two teachers of Brainard, Neb.,
have failed but twice during the severe winter, to meet every week. Their
walk is several miles to the home of an invalid, who, with them, composes
a circle, “The Triangle.” “Straight Line,” Matawan, N. J., 2. These
object to name, saying “it speaks of poultry.” Can not the class suggest
names and have them given in our column, and be voted upon, selecting the
one receiving the highest number of votes? Portland, Ind., circle desires
a change of name. One from Darlington, Ind., also objects to name. One
member from Chicago, Ill., suggests change of motto to “Let us be doers
of the Word, not hearers only:” Matt. v:16. “Evening Star,” Terryville,
N. Y., “started late, but worked hard and caught up, and have not yet had
a dull meeting.” “Oird,” Mich., writes: “After starting, no one wishes to
turn back.” Quite a number have written regarding their “Longfellow” day.
One circle, “Delta,” of Norwich, Conn., sends a poem respecting their
“Washington” day. Want of space crowds out this, and much more.

       *       *       *       *       *


     Why should we take with such pretense
     A name so great? and in what sense
     Should we be likened to the stone
     Which to the Pilgrims first was known?

     This answering thought then came to me;
    “The teachings of our class should be
     A stepping-stone for coming youth,
     From seas of doubt to shore of truth.”

     So, when the ocean waves of wrong
     Shall dash about us fierce and strong,
     We may not fear, nor be dismayed—
     Truth never in the grave was laid.

     And when the surging waves subside
     And calmed shall be the raging tide
     We, like the “rock,” may firmly stand
     To “welcome home” the storm-tossed band.

     These principles our lives will lead,
     If to our name we give good heed;
     True helpfulness to others give,
     And firmness for the right to live.

     Our influence will then appear,
     Proving more clearly year by year,
     The motto which our class now leads,
    “Let us be seen by our (good) deeds.”

                                         —_Marietta S. Case._

       *       *       *       *       *

Many write of the “unbounded pleasure” they find in our reading course.

       *       *       *       *       *

“Adelphic Union,” Holden, Mo., says their circle has neither “flaw nor
break.” They have sent us a program of a symposium. Each member assumed
a Greek name and wore an appropriate costume. The Greek idea was carried
out even to the “Master of Revels.”

       *       *       *       *       *

“Kate F. Kimball,” Minneapolis, Kansas, sends us their _menu_. The
invitation to this tempting repast we could not accept, though the food
_was_ prepared in accordance with THE CHAUTAUQUAN’S directions. We
must also decline the kindly invitation to the reception tendered our
president, the Rev. A. E. Dunning, by the Congregational Sunday-school
Superintendents’ Union, of Boston. The card is itself a treat.

       *       *       *       *       *

Make your items for this column very brief, as we are not allowed much
space. Write _no more words_ than are necessary, and yet state everything
of interest.

       *       *       *       *       *

ILLINOIS.—“The North Side C. L. S. C., of Chicago, held a public
examination and reception at the parlors of the Grace M. E. Church,
recently; it was a great success. There were about 150 persons present,
and they evinced great interest in the exercises. We belong to the class
of ’88, and this is our first reception, and we all feel delighted over
our success, and we will have another in a short time. We know that our
meeting will be of interest to all Chautauquans, particularly those of
Chicago and vicinity.”

       *       *       *       *       *

From a packet on the Tensas River comes a bit of history telling how one
new member has been added to the class of ’88: “Having complained to a
passenger on board my steamer that time hung heavily on my hands during a
portion of each trip, and asked her to suggest a remedy, she immediately
named the Chautauqua school, and advised me to become a member of the
class of ’88, and gave me a list of questions I would be obliged to
answer. As my education has necessarily been limited, I thought favorably
of the scheme of self-improvement, as a relief to the monotonous long
watches.” The master of the packet is now a member of the class of ’88.

       *       *       *       *       *

Way down in Texas, at Hempstead, is a faithful band of fifteen C. L. S.
C. workers of the class of ’88. They are college folks, the president of
the institution—Soule College—to which they belong being the president of
the circle. They are very enthusiastic over the course, and do a great
deal of work.



The pathetic interest surrounding the illness of General Grant recalls
the intenser, but not more persistent, emotions of the days when
President Garfield lay dying. The strong and sustained popular interest
in the illness of General Grant is shown by the constant attention of
the press to the theme. No day is allowed to pass without a telegraphic
bulletin informing the nation how well or ill the distinguished patient
slept the last night, and reporting any change for the better or the
worse. We are all gathered about the invalid chair, in which the
illustrious sufferer spends his wearisome days; and any word which drops
from his lips flies on the wires all over the country. It is not a
passion, or a folly, or a nullity. It is a piece of modern Providential
education. What distinguished patient, ever before Garfield had so large
and so _near_ an audience of sympathy? And who does not see in the
strong-flowing tide of sympathy for General Grant another lesson of the
same kind? Eminence has been honored before; but these thought-laden
wires take us into the very chamber of the patient and set us all upon
muffled words of regret, and pity, and sorrow. We are learning, hardly
knowing it, how eminence claims our regard and commands our attention,
and how rapidly we can forget our criticisms and our antagonisms when
Death knocks at the great man’s door. There is nothing political, nothing
sensational, in this illness. No public fortunes, or hopes, or fears hang
upon the event. General Grant is dying; that is all; but the man who has
filled so large a space in his country’s history, and dwelt so long in
the world’s eye, can not die without quickening all pulses, and awakening
every soul to pitiful attention. Great worlds of mysterious human powers
of interest and sympathy seem to open before us, and invite us within the
awe and solemnity of their spiritual skies. It is better—we see why,
now—to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting. No day
of triumph in General Grant’s life had such an uplifting and educating
power as is borne along in the arms of these days’ sickness and sorrow.
Dying so among us, the illustrious patient does indeed die for us—his
death lifting us into better life.

There are many smaller lessons. What an education in gunshot wounds we
got at the bedside of Garfield! What a window into one of the awfully
mysterious diseases we are looking through at the bedside of Grant!
Before the end comes, cancer will have parted with much of its mystery.
What doctors know the nation will know; and the education will save human
lives; perhaps impel men to closer and more effectual search for the
causes and remedies of this terrible disease. A human interest, such as
we are feeling throughout the nation and the world, has a stimulating
power which no man can measure. It may be that out of Grant’s dying of
cancer may come discoveries of permanent and universal value to mankind.


Many circumstances have combined to fix attention at the present time
upon the Senate of the United States. We have seen a Republican majority
confirm the appointments of a Democratic President with the calmness and
dignity of a Supreme Court passing upon questions of law. The event is
not a new one, but it is still an impressive one, quite as much so as
the change of the presidential office on the fourth of March. We then
saw a defeated party resign the control of the government with decorum
and civic reverence. We waited with bated breath for the first conflicts
between the President and the Senate. No conflict came. Appointments were
confirmed by the Senate without partisan bickerings or lamentations. The
dignity of the Senate was seen to be a splendid and honorable reality. We
catch other lights shining upon the Senate by going back a little. Last
year, when the English people were “mad to the verge of insanity” because
the House of Lords refused to pass a bill extending the franchise, the
English magazines and newspapers overflowed with commendations of our
Upper House. In the light of their own trouble, the English saw how
happily our fathers had founded an Upper House upon enduring foundations,
and how deftly they had combined popular representation with conservative
privilege in our Senate. No other American institution ever had so much
first-rate advertising as this Senate of ours had last year. The praise
came from the best foreign sources; from men deeply versed in history,
rich in public experience, and renowned for candid and sober judgment.
What the historian sees in our Senate is an Upper House which reposes
upon the elective principle, and is in fact constituted indirectly by
the same vote which fills the Lower House—and therefore as truly from
the people—but which has at the same time a distinct and original and
impressive office in the government. The result was achieved by the
fathers with a few well-aimed strokes of political art. For example, _the
Senate never dies_. There are many Congresses, but there is only one
Senate. There is at this time no House of Representatives; there never
was an hour of constitutional history when there was not a Senate. This
was achieved by a simple provision that one third of the Senators should
retire biennially. The Senate must “advise,” that is to say, confirm
all the President’s appointments. It is his council for considering and
completing treaties with foreign powers—and without the consent of the
Senate the President can make no treaty. And if the people through the
House of Representatives impeach the President, it is in that august
presence that he must appear and plead in his defense. The Senate has
exercised all these peculiar functions during the century past, and
in all of them it has displayed in the main those special qualities
which the framers of the constitution sought to enlist in the service
of government. It has even tried a President in the intense heat of
controversies begotten in civil war—and acquitted him in the face of
the clamorous dominant party to which the majority belonged. Its record
is full of striking triumphs over the bitterness of party spirit. It
has been judicial in its temper many a time when the air was full of
rancorous strifes and malignant personalities. It has sloughed off the
partisan sores caused by factional poison; and though it was seriously
endangered by such devices as “the courtesy of the Senate,” it has
refused to be used for narrow and selfish ends. The wranglers have passed
out of sight; the Senate never dies.

The judicial character of the body is apparent in its methods of
discussion. There is no “previous question” gag upon debate. A
conspicuous unfairness to a member is impossible. A neat way of showing
self respect by respecting brother Senators is the custom of confirming,
without reference to a committee, any nomination of a Senator to an
office. All other names must go to the committees; the names of Senators
are honored by immediate action. Members of the Lower House are, not
without reason, jealous of the power and “arrogance” of the Senate.
But the people enjoy the breadth and decorum of their Senate. It can
be trusted to _judge_, to put its candid opinion into all the peculiar
functions which it exercises. In the field of politics, senatorial
action may be very like any other human behaving in such environments;
but in the special judicial tasks of the Senators there is the serenity
and probity of a court room. And yet the Senate has its dangers, and it
has in recent years been close to the perilous edge of the precipice. A
tendency to venal methods of electing Senators came in after the civil
war, and a number of rich nobodies have disgraced the high office. It is
believed that there are now a few Senators whose purses are far longer
than their heads, and in some of the wrangles over recent elections of
Senators, the power of money has been very freely talked of and boasted
of. But in this matter the worst is over. The election of Mr. Evarts
in New York is a proof that legislatures can be lifted above money
influence; for if any senatorships would invite special efforts to win
them by venal arts, they are those of the Empire State. When that state
chose last winter one of its most eminent citizens—a man known rather
as a great man than as a politician—it set an example which will have
no small influence over other states. The Senate has in both parties
men of great ability. There is undoubtedly a growing desire and purpose
that only great men be clothed with senatorial honors. We are well past
the civil war and reconstruction periods, and as we advance into happier
conditions we are likely to take an increasing popular pride in our
unique, original and successful Upper House. There is nothing like it in
the world. It is the most conspicuous work of American political genius.
The more the people realize it, the more pains will they take in filling
it with great men.


We are, as a people, growing in taste for amusements. Some of the
manifestations of this taste are not of an entirely satisfactory
character; but there are other aspects of a very agreeable nature. Our
summer amusements are in the open air. We have not yet learned to play
outdoors in the winter; but we are slowly learning of the Canadians,
and it is not improbable that Southern people will by and by come north
in the season of short days to play in the frost of our most Arctic
states. We have commented in a former number of THE CHAUTAUQUAN upon the
advantages of the Canadian winter sports. Our summer sports are in a
more advanced state of development. Base ball, Lacrosse, lawn tennis and
croquet are established institutions, while we are only experimenting
with tobogganing. It needs no argument here to satisfy people who think
at all that amusements should be in the open air and require exercise
enough to increase the strength and expand the lungs. Exercise is a
farce unless the heart is put into it; and play is unwise if it is not
healthful. Play is primarily a demand of the physique; its value to the
mind begins with the refreshment of the body by wholesome use of the
muscles. The summer amusements in which women take part are above all
just criticism. Croquet and lawn tennis have no doubtful elements. The
exercise they afford will not content an athlete, but they are adequate
to the wants of sedentary people in warm weather. There is no doubt
that many persons would be greatly benefited by such games. They are
too sedentary; they live too much indoors; they are too closely tied
to a routine of thought or feeling. The open air, the mild exercise,
the social chat, would give them a change of feeling and an agreeable
exercise. Nor is there any conceivable avenue of approach for moral
dangers. It is not wise for any one to make a business of croquet or of
any other amusement; but the danger of excess is not worth considering.
It will occur so seldom and have such limited consequences that the
moralist need not post sentinels upon croquet grounds.

The “manly sports” are less satisfactory. Cricket, base ball and Lacrosse
have the disadvantages following: First, they are exhibitions and public
rather than social; second, they require violent exertion in hot weather;
third, they are accompanied by gambling and other unmanly vices. Cricket
and Lacrosse are not open to the last objection to any considerable
extent. Those who engage in them are for the most part gentlemen; they
are, so to say, the aristocratic games, while base ball is the great
popular athletic game. It is not very old. When men now fifty were boys
they did not know the modern game, though they did know a much simpler
and far less strenuous practice with a soft ball—a game also called
base ball. There is some reason to fear that this form of athletics is
being ruined by immoral attachments and environments. Of boating we make
special mention because it _requires_ no overstrain—since boating need
not mean boat-racing—and, indeed, is open to none of the objections
urged against the exhibitory public games. On Chautauqua Lake, in the
Assembly season, boating is one of the most healthful and enjoyable
recreations. The exercise can be adjusted to strength, arrested at any
time or prolonged at pleasure, and the boatload is enough for pleasant
society—which may, of course, be selected to suit one’s tastes. Of this
amusement we have only one regrettable feature to mention—it can be
enjoyed only where there is convenient water.

Of the vigorous sports, we are compelled to speak with some reserve.
We doubt the wholesomeness of athletics; they involve excess of
exertion, and the gambler is the curse of base ball games. The other
games may escape the influence of the demoralization, and cricket, polo
and Lacrosse become great American exhibitory games of strength and
skill. But the quiet social amusements ought to flourish among us, and
indefinitely increase. The pleasure row-boat, the croquet and lawn tennis
grounds, deserve our special attention. Let us play a little more. We can
spare the time, for we shall live longer; we can well afford the hours,
because the other hours will be worth more to us. In these quiet games we
get refreshment of body and of spirit.


Decoration Day has many happy outlooks upon the humanities. Philanthropy
may use it as a finger-board indicating the direction of our modern
progress. The soldier’s grave is its special theme; it as clearly
suggests the happier fate of the modern soldier as compared with his
ancient brother. Great nations have always honored their dead soldiers;
it is only in modern times that nations have given their whole hearts to
the living soldiers. In the long wars between France and England from
the twelfth century onward, the armies had no surgeons, and medical
supplies were unknown. The medical equipment of a modern army is costly
and ample; and that no man may die unnecessarily, woman hangs on the
verge of battle to nurse the wounded, sheltered and safe under a red
cross or a red crescent. In the old navies of England and France, the men
were slaves who had been captured in their own lands and sent to suffer
in crowded bulkheads of ships, or in the galleys, steaming with the most
abominable odors. A French duchess in the sixteenth century wrote of that
“living hell,” the many-oared galley war ship of the Mediterranean. One
can not recall the horrors of any battle on sea or land with composure,
but the whole life of soldier and sailor in public service was in the old
days full of the horrors of battle fields.

It is often said that war will eventually be stopped by the increased
and perfected effectiveness of engines of war. It may well be doubted on
general grounds; but it is specially true that humanity has robbed war of
many of its terrible aspects; it may well be that those who open again
the gates of mercy are competing successfully against those who “shut the
gates of mercy” on mankind.

The modern treatment of the soldier is conspicuous in providing for his
comfort. Why should England buy canned meats for her soldiers? Some
crusts would have sufficed the providing spirit of an ancient general.
The British army in the field must be well fed or there will be a great
noise about the ears of the government. Let it be written home that
the biscuits were stale, or the army went without its supper, and the
newspapers will roar out the indignation of the nation. It is an immense
task; but it must be accomplished; the modern soldier must have his
regular meals with certainty, and the food must be good. The Mahdi has no
such cares or duties. His soldiers must forage and browse as best they
can. The superior power of the civilized soldier lies as much in his
regular feeding as in his discipline—the feeding is an element of his
discipline. The soldiers must also be comfortably clothed and sheltered.
Woe to the commander who exposes his men to needless hardships. The
country will not allow its loyal and brave defenders to suffer a needless
deprivation or hardship. If commissaries are careless or venal, the
nation will pillory them in eternal infamy. The soldier must have, even
in the far off desert, many of the comforts of home or the country will
know the reason why. And when the battered veterans come home, how the
air rings with huzzas, how tender the pity for the wounded, how liberal
the pensions for the widows and orphans of those who did not come home!
Neither Cyrus nor Alexander had any such pension rolls. Rome idolized
her armies, but she let them starve abroad, and forgot their families
at home. This whole line of treatment means more than we can express in
words. It is a very real and royal worship of the nobility which we see
in the soldier. Often he is a sorry human creature, but it is almost a
profanation to say so. We idolize him and his office. He is our defender,
our chivalric knight, our personation of the flag over us, and of the
civilization in us. But—but—what chance does this treatment of the
soldier afford for the Day of Universal Peace? Will a sword ever become a
pruning hook so long as it is glorified by such a symbolism and illumined
by these soft lights of pity and reverence? Let us not take too gloomy a
view of the effects of our philanthropy toward the soldier. The causes of
war probably lie out of the range of these influences. Wars would still
be, if they were still as diabolically merciless as they were in the
mediæval days when a war galley was “a living hell.” Peace is a question
of universal civilization; and the pity we yield to the soldier is one of
the undying agencies of universal civilization.


Street lighting is a modern invention. The history is imperfect, but
Alexander Dumas gives credit to the tradition that Naples was first
lighted in the seventeenth century by the cunning of a popular and
sagacious priest, who induced the people to burn votive lamps before the
numerous images of St. Joseph, the patron saint of the city. In the
ancient towns people went about at night with lamps; and in mediæval
times crimes of vengeance and greed found shelter and safety in the gloom
of unlighted thoroughfares and bridges. When lighting began with oil
lamps, the situation was not much improved; the feeble glimmer of the
lamp-wicks only made certain corners less gloomy. When gas lights began
to be used the millennium seemed to have come, and gas was expected to
abolish midnight crimes. Until about a score of years ago, there was
general satisfaction with gas light. Very satisfactory results were
obtained in small towns by the use of petroleum, and the only formidable
difficulties were those arising from the high cost of gas in towns of
moderate wealth. It almost doubled the tax-levy, and when this bill
did not materially decrease the cost of a police force the tax-payers
murmured. Still, the work of lighting went on, and as soon as a town
became ambitious, its citizens demanded street lights of some kind. The
general result has been an immense increase of the aggregate outlays
for this purpose. If we take into account the growth of towns and the
extension of public lighting, it is safe to estimate that the public
lighting bill of the world is twenty times as large as it was fifty years

The invention of electric lights has, by the superior efficiency of
this method, rendered oil and gas unsatisfactory; and the electric lamp
furnishes three or four times as much light as gas at the same cost.
But there are a dozen or more methods of using the electric lamp, and
it may be doubted that we have yet reached the end of our inventive
wits in this field. It is quite probable that the electric lamp of the
next century will cost far less than any now in use. We are yet in the
infancy of electrical invention, and it may be wise for communities to
suffer a little longer the evils of darkness in order to obtain the best
appliances for public lighting. The time is at hand when all towns will
have street lamps; the inventors are busy and hopeful, and a little
cautious patience in the public will probably stimulate rather than
discourage invention. It is a good trait in our people that they want the
newest device, at whatever cost; but on the other hand the ability of A
to stock the market with an inferior article discourages the efforts of
B to devise a superior one. The plant for lighting a town is expensive,
and can not easily be thrown aside for a better one. Besides, we are
in some danger of hatching a new brood of monopolies to plague us with
unreasonable exactions.

We need street lights much more than our fathers did. In large towns—and
in many small ones—the din of toil does not cease when darkness comes
on. There is a steady increase of night occupations. Some of these
occupations are of high convenience, such as the pharmacies, the printing
offices, and the depots of travel. Others are means to profitable ends
for individuals. In a great city a multitude of people use the streets
at night. The market gardener must be in his stall before day dawn. The
daily bread is baked or distributed to depots of sale in the night time;
a thousand small trades are plied in the darkness to provide the tables
of the families with the necessaries and luxuries of life. The result is
a growing demand for artificial sunshine, and this demand will be amply
met in a near future. The bright lights will do what the feeble lights
partially failed to do. The night will cease to be the hour of crime.
If one will but think of it, a marvelous change has come over the world
since petroleum was discovered in Western Pennsylvania—which was, as it
were, but yesterday. Then we had tallow dips in all but the largest towns
for all lighting purposes, except when extravagant people burned on rare
occasions the costly illuminating oils. To make noonday in a whole town
at midnight would have seemed a foolish dream thirty years ago. The world
moves—into the light.


The world was never kept busier studying its geography than just at
present. All quarters of the world are demanding attention. In China the
Tonquin trouble has assumed such proportions that the daily papers have
come out with a map of the disputed country. The Afghan difficulty has
set us to locating Herat and learning how to pronounce the barbarous
names; the Soudan is pinned up on everybody’s wall or tucked into their
note-book; the revolution in Central America demands that we familiarize
ourselves with a country we never did know much about, while the Oklahoma
boomers of the West and rebellious Manitoba keep us interested enough in
home affairs not to forget how our boundaries lie.

       *       *       *       *       *

One of the most popular places in Washington during inaugural week
was the National Museum. During the 2d, 3d, 4th, 5th and 6th days of
March 23,000 visitors were registered. Going to the inauguration, like
“goin’ to the Fourth,” is becoming an American custom. To express the
peculiar habits of those who surrendered themselves to the festivities,
Washingtonians say that they have gone “inaugurating,” a noun which we
may be obliged to put into the dictionary if we continue to make so much
of our political moultings.

       *       *       *       *       *

A useful improvement in letter delivery is to go into effect on July 1st.
A ten-cent stamp is to be provided, which, attached to a letter, entitles
it to immediate delivery in all cities having 4,000 inhabitants or over,
within the carrier limit of any free delivery office, or within one mile
of the postoffice. It is a perfectly practical scheme, and it is apparent
that there is a demand for a quicker means of communication than an
uncertain and delayed letter delivery, for a class of letters which are
unsuited for telegraph or telephone.

       *       *       *       *       *

The “Bird’s-Eye View of Forestry” which appears in this issue of THE
CHAUTAUQUAN from the pen of the Rev. S. W. Powell will be read, we
trust, with attention. Mr. Powell is an authority on the subject, being
corresponding secretary of the New York State Forestry Association
recently organized at Utica, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

There is something new in bills of fare. For several seasons
_littérateurs_ have rejoiced in _menus_, with quotations. The “allusive”
_menu_ takes its place now. Here is a sample from a mid-Lent luncheon
party in London: “Beauty draws us with a single hair” turned out to be
jugged hare; “My Lord, the early village cock,” curried spring chicken;
“Sing me songs of Araby,” coffee.

       *       *       *       *       *

The year 1884 did nothing brilliant for astronomy. Nine new asteroids
were added to the list, giving us a family of 244. Six new comets
were noted, but none of them created much of an excitement save in
astronomical circles, and even there they were rather disappointing.

       *       *       *       *       *

Russia threatens to completely outstrip America in the production of
petroleum. Their richest petroleum region has but 400 wells, while in
America there are over 23,000; but one well of the 400 is declared to
produce, in a day, more than all our daily production. Spouting or
flowing wells throw out such mammoth quantities that the oil is allowed
to run into the sea or is burned.

       *       *       *       *       *

Everybody knows that we get our trained artisans from Europe; that our
trades unions have discouraged apprentices until it is very difficult
for boys to get any instruction in trades. What shall take the place
of the former system of apprenticeship? It seems to us that the New
York Trade Schools are framing a practical answer. The schools offer
courses in bricklaying, plastering, plumbing, carpentry, wood carving,
pattern making, stone cutting, and fresco painting; they furnish the best
instructors procurable, and for such a cost that almost any young man
can afford the instruction. These schools, if encouraged, will make it
as possible for young Americans to become skilled mechanics as it is for
young Germans or Englishmen.

       *       *       *       *       *

The re-appointment of Postmaster Pearson, of New York City, will do more
for civil service reform than many speeches in favor of the measure.
The wholesomeness and reasonableness of appointing men because they are
competent to do the work, and not because they belong to a particular
party, will be more forcibly demonstrated to the country by a few such
illustrations than by any other means.

       *       *       *       *       *

In a recent crusade movement at Cornwall, N. Y., several ladies of the
“Society of Friends” besieged a saloon, where they remained several days,
praying and singing. Pepper was burned on the stove, the room was smoked
full by the loafers, but with more valor than discretion the ladies staid
in spite of every insult. It is difficult to see what has been gained.
The saloon had law on its side, and the good women were arrested for
trespass and fined, while the leading men of the Society published a card
declaring that they did not “approve nor consent to all their unwise
practices.” “Wise as serpents, harmless as doves,” is the only motto for
those who contend effectually with the liquor traffic.

       *       *       *       *       *

Some one has set afloat, in the midst of all the attention which has been
given to the Washington monument, a touching story of a monument erected
seventy-five years ago to the “Father of his Country,” by the inhabitants
of Boonesboro, Md. It was purely a labor of love. Near the town stands
South Mountain, and on the most conspicuous point a site was chosen,
where the farmers of the vicinity hauled and laid with their own hands
the rocks which they themselves had quarried. Labor and time were given
willingly until the work was complete. The humble, eloquent tribute still
stands, a witness to the honest devotion of a faithful people.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Afghan frontier difficulty between England and Russia came in like
a lion, and bids fair, at this writing, to go out like a lamb. War was
announced to hang by a thread. The Russians were declared to be advancing
into the territory of the Ameer; England to be ready with an ultimatum,
which might be accepted or not, as Russia pleased. Announcements were
made that no such vast stores of ammunition, unbounded supplies of
provisions, and altogether gigantic preparations for a ferocious war had
ever before been made. British consols and Russian securities went down,
and American wheat went up. Undoubtedly the war cry has been fostered in
England—a shrewd maneuver of the ministry—to take the attention from the
Soudan trouble, and there is but little doubt now that the negotiations
in progress will be successful. England has her hands full already, while
Russia is not so hot-headed as to rush into a war without counting its

       *       *       *       *       *

A pleasant surprise has stirred literary circles this past month. A
favorite magazine contributor for several years has been Charles Egbert
Craddock, whose striking, original stories, full of freshness and keen
observation have been constantly becoming more popular. “Mr.” Craddock
kept himself quietly in St. Louis until his literary position was well
established, and then went to Boston to make the acquaintance of his
publishers. What was the astonishment of the latter to find that this
contributor was a lady, Miss M. N. Murfree by name. The revelation was
almost “too good to be true,” for no one had suspected the vigorous
writing to come from other than a masculine mind. The surprise has
greatly increased her popularity, of course.

       *       *       *       *       *

The striking public spectacle of 100,000 visitors gathered to witness
and to swell the pageant of the 4th of March is not yet at an end. The
month goes, but it still leaves in Washington hundreds of office seekers,
who have before themselves the belittling, wearing, unmanly business of
_etching_ their way into public service. The way in which most of the
appointments have thus far been made signifies very plainly that this
work is at a discount, and that we may reasonably hope to soon see the
office seeker starved out.

       *       *       *       *       *

Niagara is to be preserved. The bill which passed the New York State
Assembly recently, providing for the preservation of the banks of the
rivers from the works of the vandals, proves conclusively how quick we
Americans are to do the right thing when we are fully persuaded what is
right. Most of our wrongs against good taste and our depredations against
rivers and forests are rather to be attributed to a lack of thought than,
is usually the case, to be laid at the doors of avarice.

       *       *       *       *       *

We are pained to record the death of our able contributor, Mr. Richard
Grant White. For several months Mr. White has been seriously ill, though
making a brave effort to continue his labors. The excellent series of
articles on Good English, which have appeared in the Required Readings
in this volume of THE CHAUTAUQUAN, from his pen, was interrupted by his
illness, and now his death leaves a vacancy which President Wheeler
kindly comes in to fill for our readers. Mr. White’s work for THE
CHAUTAUQUAN has very deeply interested him. As late as March 18th, he
wrote us: “I may be obliged to abandon the series entirely, but this I
should greatly regret.” His expressions of interest in our work have
been encouraging and hearty. Mr. White was only sixty-three years old
at his death. He first gained public distinction as a musical critic in
the _Courier and Enquirer_. He was subsequently attached to the staff
of the _World_, the _Albion_, and the _Times_; and of late years he has
been widely known as a writer on English topics, and especially as a
critic of social and philological subjects. The news of his decease will
be received with sincere sorrow by the wide circle of his friends and
professional associates.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Rev. Joseph Leslie, an honored minister, who for about fifty years
served churches within a few hundred miles of Chautauqua Lake, died at
his home in Cattaraugus, New York, March 13th. He was a pioneer preacher
in the grove at Chautauqua many years before the Assembly was held there.
As a faithful preacher, a man of fine character and sunny disposition, he
has made a strong impression for Christianity on the people among whom he
lived. He was a trustee of the Chautauqua Assembly, and in his death the
Board lose one of their most honored members.

       *       *       *       *       *

Mr. T. S. Arthur, author and publisher, died at his home in Philadelphia,
on March 6th. Mr. Arthur is well and widely known as the author of one of
the most effective temperance stories ever written—“Ten Nights in a Bar
Room.” Temperance people, particularly, owe him a kind remembrance for
his vigorous works against strong drink.

       *       *       *       *       *

Another writer of a widely popular book died the past month, Miss Susan
Warner, the author of “The Wide, Wide World.” A healthy, vigorous story
it is, and its continued popularity for a third of a century is an almost
unknown phenomenon in American novels.

       *       *       *       *       *

Think of it! On the first day of April there were eighteen inches of snow
covering the Assembly grounds at Chautauqua, and the robins were singing
in the trees.

       *       *       *       *       *

A most remarkable work has been accomplished in the last twelve years by
Mr. Anthony Comstock and his associates. When he put his hand to the work
in 1872 there was a systemized business for spreading vile literature and
vile pictures over the land. Out of 201 books published in New York, the
plates of 199 have been seized, 230,955 pictures, 1,402,444 circulars
and leaflets have been destroyed, and 982,010 names which the managers
of this infamous business had collected from the catalogues of schools
and seminaries seized. In 1877 there were six hundred open gambling dens
and nine lotteries in New York City; to-day there is not an open saloon
or lottery in the city where gambling can be done or lottery tickets
purchased. The character of criminal papers has been so restricted by
law that two out of the four worst papers scattered through the country
have died of enforced respectability. The circulation of a third has been
reduced from 125,000 to 67,000, and that of another has fallen fifty per

       *       *       *       *       *

There is probably no doubt in the mind of the magic-working electrician
that the horse car of the future, and, indeed, the railway car, will be
run by electricity, and the public has seen so much of the wonderful
that it is quite ready to believe in anything promised. Already a
very successful experiment with a tram car has been made in Millwall,
England, where it has been proven that the electric machine necessary
has in weight an advantage of five to one compared with a steam or air
locomotion, that the speed can be increased much more easily than with
horse power, and if necessary, a propelling power equal to sixteen horses
can be gained. The changing of batteries requires less time than the
change of horses; the arrangement of bells and lamps is much superior,
and the cost per mile just one half. Another consideration suggests
itself to the member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals—it will prevent much wicked abuse of horses.

       *       *       *       *       *

There is a society in London which has undertaken to furnish two-cent
dinners to poor children. The first thought would be that such a scheme
must fail entirely of paying its own way, and sooner or later collapse if
not endowed. The organization sends out a report, however, which declares
that it is a financial success—such a success, in fact, that a second
society has undertaken to furnish one-cent dinners to the very poor
children. This latter enterprise, it is believed, will nearly pay its
way. Here is one of the worthiest schemes for the philanthropists of our
cities and larger towns, and one which can be conducted without taxing
anybody’s pocket-book.

       *       *       *       *       *

Mr. Richard Proctor says: “One of the most remarkable inventions of the
age is the ammoniaphone.” The inventor, Dr. Carter Moffat, has for years
believed the beauty of Italian vocal tones was due to something in the
air of Italy. Visiting Southern Italy he made over seventy-five analyses
of the air and dew, and finally became convinced that its peculiar
characteristic was its saturation with ammonia and hydrogen peroxide. He
has spent nine years in perfecting an instrument for inhaling vapors.
Mr. Proctor says after testing the instrument: “One draught of air was
inhaled, when, to our great astonishment, the intensity of the voice
was about doubled, while its cleanness was as greatly increased.” The
inventor claims that the “employment of the ammoniaphone according to
direction Italianizes the voice, and makes a weak voice or a drawing room
voice strong, rich, clear, and ringing.”



1. “Max Müller.” (1823-⸺.) An English philologist, and one of the most
eminent living orientalists. He prepared an edition of the “Rig-Veda”
(a collection of ancient Hindoo literature), with a commentary. This
stupendous work is composed of six volumes, and each volume contains more
than 1,200 pages. He has published many philological works, and has done
more than any other one scholar to awaken a taste for the science of

2. “The Aryan tribe.” See in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for October, 1884, the first
article, “Why we Speak English.”

3. “Sanskrit.” The literary language of the Hindoos, the Aryan
inhabitants of India.

4. “Dark Ages.” The name given to the time of intellectual depression in
Europe, extending from the fifth century to the fifteenth. During this
time some periods were darker than others, the darkest occurring about
the seventh century.


1. “Gil-filˈlan,” George. (1813-1878.) A Scottish minister and author;
has published many works.

2. “Herbert,” George. (1593-1632.) All English divine and poet. He was
generally known as “Holy George Herbert,” his life being most exemplary
and zealous.

3. “Prof. Upham,” Thomas Cogswell. (1799-1872.) An American author. For
two years he was pastor of the Congregational church in Rochester, and in
1825 he accepted a professorship in Bowdoin College.


1. “Adams,” John Couch. (1819-⸺.) An English astronomer, who shares with
Leverrier the honor of having calculated the place of the planet Neptune
before it had been seen.

2. “Leverrier,” Urbain John Joseph, lŭh-vair-yā. (1811-1877.) A French
astronomer. His “Tables of Mercury” and some memoirs led to a friendship
with Arago, and opened to him the door of the French Academy. He then
began the study of the disturbances of the planets, which led to the
discovery of Neptune. By a remarkable coincidence the existence of this
planet was discovered at the same time, and independently, by Adams.

3. “Foucault,” Leon, foo-kō. (1819-1868.) A French natural philosopher,
who for years turned his attention exclusively to optics, and was very
successful in mechanics. He invented an electric lamp which was adopted
by natural philosophers for physical experiments, and was used for
lighting large factories.

4. “Brobˈdig-nag,” also written Brobdingnag. The imaginary country
described by Dean Swift in “Gulliver’s Travels,” which was inhabited by a
race of giants.

5. “Perihelion,” perˈi-hēlˌyun; “Aphelion,” af-hēlˈyun.

6. “Kepler,” Johann. (1571-1630.) A distinguished German astronomer and
mathematician, to whom the world is indebted for the discovery of the
laws that regulate the movements of the heavenly bodies. He was appointed
to the chair of astronomy in Gratz University, in Styria, but in 1598 was
dismissed because he professed the reformed religion; he was afterward
recalled. He was an earnest disciple of Copernicus, and published in
seven volumes the “Epitome of the Copernican Astronomy,” which was placed
in the list of prohibited books by the inquisition. He was the author of
many other works.

7. “Dr. Maskelyne,” Neville. (1732-1811.) An English astronomer.

8. “Dr. Cavendish.” See Notes in THE CHAUTAUQUAN for October, 1884.

9. “Archimedes,” ark-i-mēˈdes. (B. C. 287-212.) The most celebrated
mathematician of antiquity. Cicero and Livy both refer to him in their
writings, the former to his aptness in solving problems, the latter to
his ingenuity in the invention of warlike engines. The law referred to
was, that a body plunged in water loses as much weight as is equal to the
weight of an equal body of water. King Hiero suspected that a gold crown
had been alloyed with silver, and asked Archimedes to test it. He was
trying to find some means by which he could decide the matter, when going
one day to the bath tub he found it full, and immediately saw that as
much water must run over the tub as was equal to the bulk of his body. He
saw at once a method for determining the matter of the crown, and crying
“_Eureka, eureka_; I have found it, I have found it,” he ran home.


1. “Turner,” Joseph Mallord William. (1775-1851.) An English painter. His
greatest fame was acquired through Ruskin, who in “Modern Painters” gives
a full account of his works. As an artist he is distinguished by the
strong lights and high colors of his landscapes.

2. “Ruskin.” In addition to what was said of him in the Notes in THE
CHAUTAUQUAN for April, the following is given: His books upon art are
the most eloquent and original ever written. His “Modern Painters” was
revolutionary in its spirit, and roused the hostility of conservative
art lovers. Its design was to prove the superiority of modern landscape
painters, and particularly Turner, over the old artists. Its high merits
gave it a fixed place in literature.

3. For Galileo, Humboldt and Hugh Miller, see former Notes in the
present volume of THE CHAUTAUQUAN. “Newton,” Sir Isaac. (1642-1727.) An
English philosopher. He was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, and
in 1669 accepted the mathematical professorship in that institution.
While there he made his three great discoveries, of fluxions, the nature
of light and colors, and the laws of gravitation. He was the author of
many works, chief among which is the “Principia,” containing his theory
of the universe, which brought him fame and riches. His generosity was
remarkable; he frequently entertained in a royal manner his many friends,
and his kindness and courtesy toward foreigners was very marked.

“Agassiz,” Louis. (1807-1873.) One of the most eminent naturalists of the
century. He was born in Switzerland, and educated in the universities
of Zurich, Heidelberg and Munich. He made great researches in the field
of science in different lands, and published extensively on subjects
of natural history. From 1846 his biography belongs to the scientific
history of the United States. For some years he was professor in the
scientific school founded at Cambridge by Mr. Abbot Lawrence. For two
years he held the professorship of comparative anatomy in the medical
college of Charleston, S. C., and in 1868 was appointed professor in
Cornell University, in Ithaca, N. Y. His eminence as a scientific man
was early recognized in Europe. He was made a member of the Academy of
Science in Paris, and of the Royal Society of London.

4. “Vergers,” verˈjers. 1. An attendant upon a dignitary. 2. A beadle in
a cathedral church; a pew opener or an attendant.

5. “Cathedral at Pisa.” One of the most remarkable structures in the
world. It was commenced in 1068 and finished in 1118. It is built of
white marble, and its noble dome is supported by seventy-four pillars.
It contains some celebrated works of art, and these, together with its
variegated marbles and stained windows, add much to its attractiveness.

6. “Count Maurice of Nassau.” (1567-1625.) The second son of William
of Orange. He was in his seventeenth year at the time of his father’s
assassination, and was soon after proclaimed governor by the states of
Holland and Zealand. His talents, as a general, in the troublous times
that followed, surpassed all expectations.

7. “Sir Samuel Browne.” (1776-1852.) An English engineer who brought into
use both chain cables and iron suspension bridges.

8. “James Watt.” (1736-1819.) A Scottish inventor. He began life as a
mathematical instrument maker. In this capacity he was employed in the
university of Glasgow from 1757 to 1763. He devoted his evenings to the
study of modern languages and music. In 1758 he began his experiments
with steam as a propelling power, which led to the invention of the steam
engine. Among his other inventions are a micrometer, a copying machine,
and a machine for making drawings in perspective. For some years he
devoted himself to land surveying and superintending the works on canals,
to the improvement of harbors and the building of bridges. He possessed
an extraordinary memory, and a more than superficial acquaintance with
many sciences and arts.

9. “Sir Isambert Bru-nelˈ.” (1769-1849.) The well known executor of the
Thames tunnel. He was a Frenchman, and was intended for the church, but
manifested so strong a liking for the physical sciences, and so great
a genius for mathematics, that he was allowed to follow his natural
bent and adopt the profession of a civil engineer. During the French
Revolution he emigrated to the United States, where he engaged in many
great works. After a stay of some years he went to England and there
invented a number of useful machines, and was steadily employed upon
important architectural and engineering works. His greatest achievement
was the construction of the tunnel under the Thames River, which after
many difficulties and disasters was completed in 1843, eighteen years
after it was commenced. He was a member of the Royal Society, and also of
the French Academy.

10. “Cuvier,” kūˈvyā. George Leopold Christian Frederic Dagobert, Baron.
(1769-1832.) An eminent French naturalist. Such was his talent and such
the perseverance with which he followed up his examination and inquiries,
that he was soon looked upon as one of the best zoölogists in Europe.
His fame reached the ears of Napoleon, and he bestowed upon him the most
important offices in the department of public instruction. France is
indebted to him for the finest osteological collection in the world; and
the world is indebted to him for the great addition he has made to the
science of zoölogy.

11. “Buffon,” George Louis Leclerc. (1707-1788.) A French naturalist.
He studied law, but never practiced it, being strongly inclined to
scientific and mathematical studies. Euclid was his constant pocket
companion. After having traveled extensively, he settled down in France
and devoted himself to study and to his literary works. His fame rests
upon his “Natural History,” in thirty-six volumes, which has been
translated into almost every European language. It is a wonderful work
in the extent of its information and its eloquence, though it is often
inaccurate, and is full of wild theories.

12. “Cuttle-fish.” A molluscous shell-fish. The shell is internal, and
is of a friable, calcareous substance, much used for making pounce,
tooth powder, and for polishing purposes. The fishes are provided with
eight arms and two long tentacles, all of which are ranged round the
head and provided with suckers, which take such fast hold of objects
that the limbs will sometimes tear away before they will let go. The
animal is provided with an ink bag as a means of defense; when attacked
it instantly darkens the water with this black fluid, and so conceals
itself, and often makes its escape. They have very large eyes, which are
designed for use in the night, as the animal seems to shun the light
of day. It is not easily caught, and is one of the pests of Scottish
fishermen, as it frequently devours the fish which have been caught in
their nets.

13. “Cromˈar-ty Firth.” A landlocked inlet of the North Sea, on the
northeast coast of Scotland. It is a fine harbor, eighteen miles long,
running southwest, and from three to five miles broad. The largest fleet
could be safely sheltered within it.

14. “Amˈmon-ites.” A genus of fossil shells, somewhat like the
_Nautilus_. They are found in all fossiliferous rocks from the transition
strata to the chalk. They vary in size from those that are exceedingly
small to those three and four feet in diameter. Some of them resemble in
form the coil of a ram’s horn, and others a snake coiled up. For a long
time they were taken by the common people to be petrified snakes. They
are so abundant in Burgundy that in some places the roads are paved with


1. “Barˈna-cles.” A kind of shell fish, now recognized as belonging to
the _Articulata_. They are provided with a long, flexible footstalk, by
means of which they adhere either to fixed or floating objects. At the
summit of this stalk are shelly valves, five in number, which enclose the
principal organs of the animal. This shell opens and closes to admit of
its spreading out and retracting a net-like organ, by means of which the
animal catches its food, which consists of small crustacea. On emerging
from the eggs, young barnacles are free, and are furnished with organs
of locomotion, and with large eyes, but in a short time a change occurs
in them. They assume the form of their parents, and attach themselves to
some place of residence. In warm climates they are exceedingly abundant,
and often fasten themselves in such numbers to the bottom of a vessel as
to retard its progress.

2. “Fourteen-footed Crustacea.” The beach-fleas which are found so
commonly among weeds, belong to this order, and the mantis shrimp.

3. “Ten-footed Crustacea.” This order is represented by the shrimp.

4. “Cephalo-thorax,” sephˈa-lo thoˈrax. Head-chested. The first segment
of the animal contains the head and the chest.

5. “Carapace,” carˈa-pace.

6. “Epidermis,” ĕp-i-dermˈis. The thin, semi-transparent covering over
the true skin. It is readily seen in the occurrence of blisters, as the
fluid is always contained between it and the dermis, or true skin. It
extends over the whole body, even the front of the eye.

7. “Acarina,” ă-ka-reeˈna.

8. “Pedipalpi,” pedˈi-palˈpĭ. The word is derived from two Latin words,
meaning a foot, and to touch softly.

9. “Araneina,” ar-a-nīˈna.

10. “Centipedes,” senˈti-pēdes. The word means hundred-footed.

11. “Chitine,” kīˈtēn.

12. “Chilognatha,” kī-logˈna-thä.

13. “Chilopoda,” kī-lopˈa-dä.

14. “Neuroptera,” new-ropˈte-rä.

15. “Orthoptera,” or-thopˈte rä.

16. “Hemiptera,” hĕ-mipˈte-rä.

17. “Coccus Cacti,” cocˈcus cac-ti.

18. “Nopal,” nōˈpal. A plant of the genus cacti; the Indian fig.

19. “Cortes,” or Cortez, Fernando. (1485-1554.) The Spanish conqueror of

20. “Coleoptera,” cō-lē-opˈte-ra.

21. “Imago,” ī-māˈgo.

22. “Elytra,” elˈī-tra.

23. Ornaments made from the sheaths of beetles. In the National Museum
at Washington are many articles made by Indians and trimmed with beetle
wings. There are leather capes and straps decorated with them, and
head-dresses on which rows of the wings are sewed together edge to edge.
Besides these, many little fancy ornaments are made of them. They may
also be seen in large millinery stores, as they bid fair now to come in
vogue as decorations for ladies’ bonnets.

24. “Lepidoptera,” lĕp-i-dŏpˈte-ra.

25. “The silk worm.” This insect is a native of the north of China, and
a large part of the raw silk for Europe and America comes from that
country. The silk worm was brought into the south of Europe in the sixth
century, whence the insects, being found profitable, gradually spread
into Italy and France, in both of which countries the production of silk
has long been an important industry. The worms, when properly cared for,
do remarkably well in this country, where, in an early day, considerable
attention was given to silk culture. In colonial times the government
encouraged the industry, and the production was considerable. In all the
middle and southern parts both soil and climate were found favorable, and
there was fair prospect of success; but for some reason the production of
raw silk has fallen far behind other American industries, and certainly
is not now in a flourishing condition. As late as 1844 the production was
396,700 pounds, worth $1,400,000. It has been much less since. But with
our superior natural advantages, and the very fine quality of silk that
can be produced, if ever the price of labor in other countries is raised
to near the same it is here, it will be profitable, and capitalists ready
to invest largely in the business.

26. Such statements as these call to mind the following doggerel couplet:

    “Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite ’em
     And these again have other fleas; and so on, _ad infinitum_.”

27. The habits of ants form a most interesting study. The males and
females are provided with delicate glistening wings, the infertile
females, or neuters, are wingless. The latter are divided into two
classes—the workers or nurses, and soldiers. There is on the part of the
fertilized females a disposition to desert the colony, but the workers,
who are always on the lookout for any such manifestations, prevent it if
possible. The nurses take all the care of the eggs, which are so small
as scarcely to be visible to the naked eye, and which the mother never
notices unless she is left alone; they also care for the young ants.
When the proper time comes they cut them from the cocoons in which the
pupæ envelop themselves, but from which they are unable to extricate
themselves without help. Winged ants are seen most frequently in the
autumn, and the greater part die before cold weather. Ants feed mostly
on the sugar found in vegetable substances, and on the secretions of
the _aphides_, or _plant lice_, called honey dew, which is found smeared
over the leaves of plants. Some kinds of ants catch these _aphides_ and
carry them to their cells where they carefully provide for them in order
that they may have the honey dew for food. Thus in their way they keep
cows. The workers also have the care of building the habitations of the
colony, forming the streets and chambers, repairing them, and fortifying
them against the weather. The soldiers are larger, and are provided with
stronger jaws. They do the heavier parts of the work, and the fighting
for the colony. Some species of ants are slaveholders. They attack other
colonies, and if not repelled, carry off the eggs and cocoons, which they
care for, and when they are hatched and grown they are compelled to life
service for their captors.

28. “Ascidian,” as-sidˈi-an.

29. “Lamprey,” lamˈpry.

30. “Marsipobranchii,” mar-sipˈo-brankˈĭ.

31. “Lamprey pie.” Lampreys were formerly held in high esteem for the
table, and it was an old custom for the city of Gloucester annually to
present a lamprey pie to the sovereign. Worcester, also, is famous, for
its pies and potted lampreys.

32. The American lamprey likes best shallow places in rapidly flowing
streams where there are pebbly bottoms. Out of the pebbles it builds
its circular nest of stones, which vary in size from a hen’s egg to a
cannon ball. It carries the stones in its mouth. The eggs are laid in
these nests, and the young remain here until able to care for themselves.
For full account of nest building fishes see the Christmas number of
_Harper’s Monthly_ for 1883.

33. “Nictating membrane.” “A thin membrane at the inner angle of the eye,
capable of being drawn across the ball beneath the lid, as in birds and
some ruminant animals; the third eyelid.”—_Webster’s Dictionary._

34. “Operculum,” ō-perˈcu-lum.

35. “Vascular,” vasˈcu-lar. Consisting of vessels. The vascular system in
animals contains the arteries, veins, and like parts.

36. “Elasmobranchii,” e-lasˈmo-brankˈĭ.

37. “Teleosti,” tē-lē-osˈti.

38. “The electric eel.” These animals are found in several of the rivers
of South America. They are three or four feet in length, though a few
have been found measuring six feet. The viscera lie close to the head,
and all the rest of the body is taken up by the electrical apparatus,
which consists of four batteries, two on each side. These batteries
consist of horizontal membranous plates, intersected by delicate vertical
plates; the spaces contain a glutinous matter. The batteries are supplied
with two hundred and twenty-four pairs of nerves on each side. Humboldt
gave much study to these eels, and wrote a graphic description of how
the Indians captured them by driving horses into the water occupied by
them. The powers of the fishes were exhausted in shocking the horses
(some of which died from the effects), and the eels were caught. It is
said, too, that the Indians sometimes caught wild horses by driving them
into the water and capturing them while they were under the influence of
the shock. Faraday calculated that the eel emitted a force as great as
the highest charge of a Leyden battery of fifteen jars, having a coated
surface of 3,500 square inches. The most powerful shocks are felt by
touching the head of the eel with one hand, and the tail with the other.

39. “Blind fishes.” These are fishes found in caves, especially in the
Mammoth Cave of Kentucky. They possess organs of touch so delicate that
they are able to pursue and overtake fishes with eyes, that stray into
their domain. It is very difficult to capture them, their sense of
hearing being as acute as that of touch. They are nearly colorless and
present a ghostly appearance in the water. They vary in length from two
to five inches; they are viviparous.

40. “Sargossa Sea.” The name given to that part of the Atlantic Ocean
lying between 25° and 36° north latitude, and west of the Azore islands,
which is covered by a kind of seaweed distributed in great masses by the
Gulf Stream. Humboldt speaks of it as “that great bank of weeds which
so vividly occupied the imagination of Christopher Columbus, and which
Oviedo calls the seaweed meadows.” On his first voyage Columbus passed
through this sea, which caused great alarm to his companions, who thought
there must be rocks or shoals near. The quantity of the weed is such as
often to impede the progress of vessels.


The histories of James Anthony Froude are best appreciated by and adapted
to those who already have a good knowledge of history. They are like
studies in higher mathematics, which always demand a careful preparation
in the branches preceding them. All who read Thomas Becket[B] will
readily assent to this. Without some knowledge of the “Constitutions of
Clarenden,” one could hardly gather from this book what the beginning
of the trouble was about, and would lose much of the enjoyment to be
had in the fine analysis of the event. The first chapter contains a few
incidents illustrative of the spirit of the times; then comes a very
brief sketch of the famous archbishop, up to the time of the rupture of
friendship between him and the king from that time until his murder in
the cathedral of Canterbury, his life and characteristics are very fully
drawn. The book lacks entirely that which no good book should ever be
without—a full index.

Abridged dictionaries have been among the most unsatisfactory works
which we have ever owned. They never cover the ground. A fresh attempt
to make a complete, compact work has resulted in a book that no one need
hesitate to recommend. It has been revised from Webster’s unabridged
dictionary, and the editing has been subject to President Noah Porter.
Several plans have been adopted for saving spaces, which neither cheapen
the work nor injure the quality. The abridgment has been accomplished,
we believe, after carefully comparing the abridged and unabridged works,
without sacrificing either pronunciation, definitions or derivations.
The aid of examples and synonyms is lost in the smaller work. The
invaluable appendix of the larger work is very adequately represented by
a pronouncing vocabulary of Biblical, classical, mythological, historical
and geographical proper names. The cost of the book places it in the
reach of almost every one. We have felt for a long time that there was
no really desirable dictionary of low price which we could recommend
willingly to our C. L. S. C. readers. This work will fully meet their
needs, and we take pleasure in calling attention to it.[C]

A study of frontier life and government is to be found in “Mining
Camps.”[D] As one reads the book the old saying “One half of the world
does not know how the other half lives,” recurs again and again to the
mind. That such great organizations should have been in existence,
governed by local laws devised by themselves to suit the necessities of
their condition, and carried up to a high state of development, while
other parts of the country were almost in ignorance concerning these
commonwealths, seems hard to understand. The book is not designed as a
technical history of mining. Ancient and mediæval mining systems are
examined, and the development of their institutions carefully traced. The
greater part of the book is devoted to the study of camps in the remote

The “Historical Reference Book”[E] at once takes its place among those
works which cause one to wonder how he ever did without them. It
comprises a chronological table of universal history, a chronological
dictionary of universal history, a biographical dictionary, and
geographical notes. Great care has been taken in the biographical
dictionary to select all the names of those men who have a strong claim
to distinction, and from the list, which is necessarily limited, those
have been omitted whose renown is fleeting. For those who can not provide
themselves with cyclopædias, large dictionaries, and books of reference,
we know of no work better calculated to meet their needs, and those who
have these other helps at hand will find this the most convenient for
brief notices. It is especially adapted to the use of students.

In “Workday Christianity”[F] the names of tradesmen, as “The Carpenter,”
“The Potter,” etc., have been used as the subjects of chapters, and the
history of each calling is briefly given, from the earliest Bible times
down to the present. They are then used as figures, and around them are
draped moral lessons from which may be gathered many useful suggestions.
There is, however, a gloomy outlook spread before the Christian; his life
is made to seem only as “a life of work, of trial, of tears and fears, of
conflicts fierce and long.” In the author’s denunciations of hypocrisy,
style, cant and caste in the churches, he inconsistently pays them the
high honor of allowing them to overshadow all else. He never sees the
true, the beautiful and the good existing there also. Such sentences as
the following have a wrong tendency and do harm: “It was not considered a
disgrace in those days to ply a trade.” “How many rich young ladies would
scorn to associate with the sons and daughters of our workmen.” For some
strange cause there is a large class of laboring people who are always
debasing themselves by supposing other people feel above them. They are
constantly snubbing themselves, in the fear that somebody is going to
do so. This feeling should never be fed by a religious book. The author
stands on the wrong side of many questions he attempts to handle.

The most pleasing observations of nature at present being contributed
to our literature are those by John Burroughs. Most writers in their
descriptions of the outside world are one-sided. They see the landscape
but forget the sounds. Burroughs never does this. He catches everything:
the dew, the color, the sound, the accent of the country-folk, the lay
of the land, the build of the plow. In his “Fresh Fields”[G] the effect
is exactly what the walk through the fields would have been. A vivid,
fresh, constantly changing panorama is spread before you. The style suits
the shifting scenes. It is not “fine writing,” but it is clear, plain
and appropriate; like the corduroy trousers, short coat, and top boots
which form the outfit for tramps like those of Mr. Burroughs, it is not
elegant, but exactly “the thing.” While the observations of flower and
bird and sky are so exact and pleasing, there is much “humanization of
nature.” He is not so enamored with the fields that he can not take a
genuine interest in men. The most delicious story we have read for a
long time is his “Hunt for the Nightingale.” No knight in fiction ever
followed his lady-love more eagerly than does this ardent wooer his
Philomel, and it has been a long time since we have been more eager to
have a story turn out well.

In “Letters to Guy”[H] boys will find an interesting book. These letters
are written from Australia, by a mother to her son left at home in
England. They tell of the voyages from one place to another, of the
places visited, of the people, and of the natural history of the country.
They are written in a bright, racy style, and are so homelike that any
boy could easily forget they were penned by a titled lady, and imagine
they might be his own mother’s letters to himself.

In “How to Get On in the World”[I] will be found a full account of the
life and literary works of William Cobbett. In his preface the author
says: “It is thought that an account of the life and writings of one of
England’s most powerful writers and most remarkable characters, with
some of the best productions of his pen, can not fail to be useful.”
And a very useful and entertaining book he has succeeded in giving to
the public. The making it serve the double purpose of biography and
autobiography affords, as is always the case, a pleasing variety. His
early history, his experience in the British army, in the United States,
and as an editor, his trial and imprisonment for the libels he placed on
government and individuals, and all of the leading events in the stirring
life of this great political writer are clearly set forth. There is also
a full account of his works, which are very numerous. Better than any
theoretical treatise on this subject is the history of this self-made
man, conquering difficulties and winning successes along the lines in
which he sought it.

A story of the times of Wyckliffe is given under the title “Dearer than
Life.”[J] One of the best means of doing good now in use is that of
teaching the young people useful lessons in the form of these attractive
historical novels. In this one, the fortunes of a family who were for
a long time divided in their opinions concerning the doctrines of the
great reformer are narrated, and are so closely interwoven with the real
history of the times that there can be no skipping of the facts for the
sake of the fancy.

Of the recent text-books published for use in schools, on physiology and
hygiene, none deserves higher commendation than “Our Bodies, and How we
Live.”[K] The lessons are all so arranged and expressed as to awaken and
hold the attention of the scholar, and can not fail, especially in the
hands of a skillful teacher, to make this important study an exceedingly
interesting one. The effects of strong drink on different parts of the
system are carefully shown. The numerous illustrations are very clear,
and so well labeled that they perfectly supplement the lessons and leave
no chance for misunderstanding or mistake. The book contains a glossary
and an index.

Two little books by Charles Kingsley,[L] put into the hands of children
who have been taught to love good reading—and indeed the books of
themselves would teach any child to do this—would prove a treasure-house
to them. The prefaces alone, with their cordial, sympathetic greeting,
their natural, straightforward statements, and their spirit of love and
reverence, are worth the price of the books.

Any one who has had experience in arranging tableaux knows how true
it is that there is a false and a true way of producing effects. Not
knowing how to drape, to select colors, to arrange a group, to copy this
or that, spoils many tableaux and discourages managers. We are glad to
find a suggestive book on this difficult art.[M] Without any theorizing
the authors teach us how to do by plunging _in medias res_ and producing
the tableaux before our eyes. The book describes twenty-four tableaux,
but the variety of subjects is such that study of them furnishes a very
complete drill for producing any desired effect.

A good game will occasionally fill a niche in an evening, in a way
entirely its own. We believe we have found two such in Miss Alice M.
Guernsey’s Shakspere Game,[N] and Elements and Compounds.[O] The games
are pleasing variations of the well known game of “Authors.” The latter
is particularly novel in its arrangement, and local circles who want to
fix in mind the troublesome “compounds” will find it very useful.

It is a very convenient thing for a reader of history to have at hand
a chart which gives in brief the synchronological events of nations.
So many charts of this kind, however, are cumbersome, that the trouble
of using is almost as time-taking as that of consulting books. A chart
without this drawback is the “Concentric Chart of History”[P] which Dr.
Ludlow has recently published. It can be held in the hand when in use,
and folds up into small compass. It contains all the facts which readers
ought to go to a chart for, and some interesting items on the useful
arts, on sculptors, artists, and literary characters. Altogether it makes
a very convenient reference table for a reader of history.

The “Common School Compendium”[Q] is a little volume, intended, the
author says, “to serve several purposes—to provide graduates of high
schools and colleges a quick means of reviewing the work of early school
days; to give to teachers a reliable hand-book of knowledge they are
expected always to have at command, and above all to provide that large
class of young people who are striving in the privacy of home to master
the difficulties of a systematic course of study, a work that should do
away with the necessity for large numbers of text-books.” It outlines,
and gives brief lessons in, geography, arithmetic, grammar, natural
history and history. It will be found by all to be a valuable reference

GORDON IN THE SOUDAN.—“I have certainly got into a slough with the
Soudan; but looking at my banker, my commander-in-chief, and my
administrator, it will be wonderful if I do not get out of it. If I had
not got this Almighty Power to back me in His in finite wisdom, I do
not know how I could ever think of what is to be done. With terrific
exertions I may in two or three years’ time, with God’s administration,
make a good province, with a good army and a fair revenue and peace and
an increased trade, and also have suppressed slave raids, and then I will
come home and go to bed and never get up again till noon every day, and
never walk more than a mile.”[R]


Evolution and Christianity, or an Answer to the Development of Infidelity
of Modern Times. By Benjamin F. Tefft, D.D., LL.D. Boston: Lee and
Shepard. New York: Charles T. Dillingham. 1885.

How to Do It. By Edward Everett Hale. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1884.

Weird Tales. By E. T. W. Hoffmann. A new translation from the German. By
J. P. Bealby, B.A. In two volumes. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons.

Words and Ways; or, What They Said, and What Came of It. By Sarah J.
Jones. New York: Phillips & Hunt. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe. 1885.
Price, $1.00.

Edward Arnold as Poetizer and Paganizer, Containing an Examination of the
Light of Asia for its Literature and for its Buddhism. By William Cleaver
Wilkinson. Funk & Wagnalls. New York: 1884.

The Clerk’s Manual of Rules, Forms, and Laws for the Regulation of
Business in the Senate and Assembly of the State of New York. Including
Croswel’s Manual. Albany: Weed, Parsons & Co. 1885.

Consolation. A Special Collection of Standard Hymns, Tunes, and Chants
for Funeral and Memorial Services, together with suitable “Gospel Songs,”
New and Old, designed to Comfort those Who Mourn. Edited by James R.
Murray. Cincinnati: Published by John Church & Co.

Serapis. A Romance. By George Ebers. New York: William S. Gottsberger,
Publisher. 11 Murray Street. 1885. Price, paper cover, 50 cents.

A Railroad Waif. By Mrs. C. B. Sargent. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe. New
York: Phillips & Hunt. 1885. Price, 75 cents.

Mind-Reading and Beyond. By William A. Hovey. Boston: Lee and Shepard.

The Three Pronunciations of Latin. By M. M. Fisher, D.D. LL.D. New York:
D. Appleton & Co. 1885.

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

Composition and Rhetoric. By G. P. Quackenbos, LL.D. New York: D.
Appleton & Co. 1885.

Organic Chemistry. By Ira Remsen. Boston: Ginn, Heath & Co.

Continuity of Christian Thought. By A. V. G. Allen. Boston: Houghton,
Mifflin & Co. 1884. Price, $2.00.

The Hallam Succession. A Tale of Methodist Life in Two Countries. By
Amelia E. Barr. New York: Phillips & Hunt. Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe.
1885. Price, $1.00.

The Lenâpè and their Legends. Library of Aboriginal American Literature.
By D. G. Brinton, M.D. Philadelphia. 1885.

The Open Door. The Portrait. Two Stories. By the author of A Little
Pilgrim, and Old Lady Mary. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1885. Price, 75

Tales from Shakspere. By Charles and Mary Lamb. Edited for the use of
Schools. Boston: Ginn, Heath & Co. 1885.

[B] Thomas Becket. By James Anthony Froude. New York: Charles Scribner’s
Sons. 1885. Price, 50 cents.

[C] Condensed Dictionary of the English Language. Edited under the
supervision of Noah Porter, DD., LL.D. By Dorsey Gardner. New York and
Chicago: Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Company. Price, $1.80.

[D] Mining Camps. By Charles Howard Shinn. New York: Charles Scribner’s
Sons. 1885. Price, $2.00.

[E] The Historical Reference Book. By Louis Heilprin. New York: D.
Appleton and Company. 1885. Price, $3.00.

[F] Workday Christianity. By Alexander Clarke. Cincinnati: Cranston &
Stowe. New York: Phillips & Hunt. Price, $1.00.

[G] Fresh Fields. By John Burroughs. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
1885. Price, $1.50.

[H] Letters to Guy. By Lady Barker. New York: Macmillan & Co. 1885.
Price, $1.50.

[I] How to Get On in the World, as Displayed in the Life and Writings
of William Cobbett. By Robert Waters. New York: R. Worthington, 770
Broadway. 1885. Price, $1.50.

[J] Dearer than Life. By Emma Leslie. New York: Phillips & Hunt.
Cincinnati: Cranston & Stowe. 1885. Price, $1.00.

[K] Our Bodies, and How we Live. By Albert F. Blaisdell, M.D. Boston: Lee
and Shepard. New York: Charles T. Dillingham. 1885. Price, 60 cents.

[L] The Heroes. Price, 30 cents. Madam How and Lady Why. Price, 50 cents.
New York: Macmillan & Co. 1885.

[M] Artistic Tableaux, with Picturesque Diagrams and Descriptions of
Costumes. Text by Josephine Pollard. Arrangement of Diagrams by Walter
Satterlee. New York: White, Stokes & Allen. 1884.

[N] Quotations. A Shaksperean Game. By Alice M. Guernsey. Chicago: S. R.
Winchell & Co. Price, 25 cents.

[O] Elements and Compounds. A Chemical Game. By Alice M. Guernsey.
Chicago: S. R. Winchell & Co. Price, 25 cents.

[P] Ludlow’s Concentric Chart of History. By James M. Ludlow, D.D. New
York City: Funk & Wagnalls. Price, $2.00.

[Q] The Common School Compendium. For Home Students and Teachers. By Mr.
L. J. Lanphere. Chicago: Fairbanks & Palmer. 1885.

[R] Chinese Gordon, the Uncrowned King. His character as it is portrayed
in his Private Letters. Compiled by Laura C. Holloway. New York: Funk &
Wagnalls. 1885. Ribbon-tied. Price, 25 cents.


Chautauqua is the original recreative and educational summer resort on
Chautauqua Lake;

Chautauqua is the center of an elegant and literary social life;

Chautauqua is the first of many similar movements in all parts of
the land, and the one from which they have received their idea and

Chautauqua is the seat of the world-wide “C. L. S. C.” (the Chautauqua
Literary and Scientific Circle), which enrolls more than fifty thousand
readers, and provides more than thirty distinct courses of reading and
study for persons of all ages and degrees of culture;

Chautauqua is a place of rest and recreation; with grounds, high, dry,
perfectly drained, clean, delightful; with three lovely natural plateaus
rising from the lakeside to an elevation among the very highest on
the lake. The sanitary regulations are scientific and effective. The
healthfulness of the place is not excelled in America.

Chautauqua has a charming hotel, the Hotel Athenæum, one of the most
elegant and substantial summer hotels on the continent. Its lovely
outlook on the lake, its ample piazzas, spacious halls, parlor and dining
room render it equal to any hotel outside of New York City.

Chautauqua provides cottage-boarding at all rates, and persons preferring
cheap board to that of the more expensive and elegant Hotel Athenæum can
easily find it.

Chautauqua is CHAUTAUQUA. The name of the ground is CHAUTAUQUA. The
landing is CHAUTAUQUA. The postoffice is CHAUTAUQUA. The express office
is CHAUTAUQUA. It is not “Point Chautauqua” or “Chautauqua Point,” or
“Chautauqua Lake,” but simply CHAUTAUQUA, N. Y.

Chautauqua is the children’s paradise. Games, romps, bathing, boating,
calisthenics, roller skating under judicious control, bonfires, concerts,
stereopticon exhibitions, a splendid museum of oriental curiosities and
pictures, a useful “hour-a-day” during the Assembly season (if children
wish it) of lessons, story-telling, and songs—all these make Chautauqua a
most charming resort for children.


At the summer session of the Assembly the normal work is conducted in
five departments, viz.:—

1. The Children’s Class, for young people, taught by the Rev. B. T.

2. The Intermediate Normal Class, for advanced scholars and teachers,
also taught by the Rev. B. T. Vincent.

3. The Sunday School Normal Class, in the two sections of the Bible and
the Sunday School, taught by the Rev. J. L. Hurlbut, D. D., and Prof. R.
S. Holmes.

4. The Advanced Normal, conducted by the Rev. A. E. Dunning and the Rev.
Frank Russell.

5. The Primary Teachers’ Normal Class, for the instruction of teachers of
little people. By Mrs. B. T. Vincent.

6. Among other exercises valuable and interesting to Sunday School
workers are the following: Daily Bible Reading, under the direction of
Dr. John Williamson, of Chicago, Ill.; Daily Devotional Services, led by
the Rev. Dr. B. M. Adams, of New York; Occasional Question-drawers and
Normal Councils, under the direction of Dr. J. H. Vincent; Sunday School
Teachers’ Meetings on Saturday evenings, and the great NORMAL ALUMNI
REUNION on Thursday, August 13th.

Information concerning the Normal Course may be obtained by addressing
either the Rev. J. L. Hurlbut, D. D., 805 Broadway, New York; or the Rev.
A. E. Dunning, Congregational House, Boston, Mass.


    PROF. J. H. WORMAN, PH. D., Director.

    PROF. A. LALANDE, Associate, School of French.

The College of Modern Languages, under the direction of the distinguished
teacher and author, Dr. J. H. Worman, will open July 11th, and continue
in session for six weeks.

Concerning Prof. Worman, it is not necessary that anything be said in
this announcement. As a teacher he is unexcelled in this country. As an
author of school books in language he is widely known.

Prof. Lalande, a Parisian, a thorough Frenchman, a born teacher,
captivates his pupils while he leads them on to a mastery of his native
tongue through his aptness to teach, distinct enunciation, and personal

For full information concerning the COLLEGE OF MODERN LANGUAGES for the
coming season, address as follows: German, Italian, and Spanish, Dr. J.
H. Worman, Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Tenn.; for French, Prof. A.
Lalande, Bridgeport, Conn.

[S] Indiana Cottage, 253 North avenue, Chautauqua, N. Y., will furnish
for $55.00 for the six weeks (July 11th—August 24th) of the Chautauqua
Schools of Language, room and board, including all the comforts of a
quiet home, with a private table to be presided over by Prof. A. Lalande,
where nothing but French is to be spoken.


    (Summer Term of Six Weeks.)

Professor Shumway writes to the Chancellor of Chautauqua University:

_My Dear Doctor Vincent:_

It gives me great pleasure to be able to offer this summer, at
Chautauqua, a course in Latin and Greek of unusual merit. Of the
assistant teachers, Mr. Otto is already favorably known to our pupils
of last summer, and to many correspondence students as an energetic and
thorough teacher. Dr. Bevier will be a great acquisition for Chautauqua.
He was graduated from Rutgers with first honors, having also during his
course won honors in Latin and Greek at the inter-collegiate contest.
After graduation he studied at Johns Hopkins University (which conferred
on him the degree Ph.D.), and then continued his studies in Europe. He
was a student at the American School at Athens, Greece, and is now an
enthusiastic and successful teacher. He is the author of a paper on
the _Olympieion_ (in the report of the School at Athens, published by
Professor Goodwin, of Harvard).

Although our session in Latin last year began a week late, and we
suffered from other disadvantages, I believe our numbers in Latin reached
a total unparalleled in the history of Chautauqua.

What was, however, especially gratifying, was the improved quality of
scholarship manifested by students.

For this summer we offer the following course:

1. ROMAN LAW (using the Institutes of _Justinian_) with information. Not
only every lawyer, but every teacher of Latin to-day should familiarize
“_thon_”self with Roman law, lying, as it does, _at the base of Roman

2. THE LATIN OF THE EARLY CHURCH FATHERS.—Recent publication and
discussion have brought into such prominence the influence of the early
Latin Fathers on church doctrine that _every clergyman_, present or
prospective, will do well to examine this question for himself.

3. COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY (using Halsey’s Etymology; Ginn, Heath &
Co.)—(Every student preparing to enter either of these three classes
should _at once_ communicate with the principal, that there may be no
delay at the opening of the session, in securing apparatus.)

4. PLATO.—Apology and Crito, Tyler’s Ed. (Appletons.)

5. CICERO.—_De Natura Deorum_, Stickney’s Ed. (Ginn, Heath & Co.)

6. HOMER.—Odyssey.

7. VERGIL.—Æneid.

8. HORACE.—Chase’s Ed. (Eldridge & Bro.)

9. CICERO.—Orations.

10. XENOPHON.—Anabasis.

11. CÆSAR.—_De Bello Gallico_ (two hours per day).

12. BEGINNERS IN GREEK. Harkness’s Text-Book, last ed. (Appletons.)


🖙 Latin students must have the “Hand-Book of Latin Synonymes.” (Ginn,
Heath & Co.)

🖙 _Special rates will be made for correspondence pupils, and all are
urged to attend._

I hope you will give us at Chautauqua zealous students, who will
concentrate their work on Latin and Greek, and especially two classes:
TEACHERS of Latin and Greek, and those who are absolutely BEGINNERS. A
clear-headed student who doesn’t know a word of Latin, can, by devoting
six weeks to it, FIVE HOURS per day (_Beginners_ and _Cæsar_) or ONE
HUNDRED AND FIFTY HOURS in six weeks—quite as much time as the average
school gives in one year—make decided progress.

It is thought that teachers of Latin and Greek will find of value not
only the method, but also the inspiration which indubitably does arise
when teachers gather.

It is perhaps hardly necessary to add that _the use of Latin not only in
elucidating text, but also in discussing syntax, derivations, synonymes,
history, geography, archæology, etc., is an essential feature of our
work in Latin_. Worthy of the attention of teachers is the fact that our
colloquial work is not the mere parrot-like repetition of phrases of the

                           Your ob’t servant,

                                              EDGAR S. SHUMWAY,
                                      Principal of Chautauqua _Academia_.

RUTGERS COLLEGE, February 23, 1885.


    DR. W. R. HARPER, of the Institute of Hebrew, Director.

The Chautauqua School of Hebrew will open August 4, at 2 p. m., and
continue until August 31, at 12 m.

The tuition fee is $10.00. This sum includes admission to the grounds.

Elementary, Intermediate, Progressive, and Advanced Classes will be
organized. For further information, correspond with Dr. W. R. Harper,
Morgan Park, near Chicago, Ill.


The Chautauqua College of English and Anglo-Saxon is under the direction
of Prof. W. D. McClintock, who has by steadiness, fidelity, tact,
and rich scholarship commanded the respect and enthusiastic devotion
of his pupils during several summers at Chautauqua. For particulars
concerning the Summer School of English, address Prof. W. D. McClintock,
Millersburgh, Ky.


The Teachers’ Retreat is a three weeks’ meeting of secular school
teachers, opening July 11, 1885, for lectures, illustrative exercises,
biographical studies, and scientific experiments, combined with the
recreative delights of a summer vacation and the quickening influence of
the summer school. The teachers in the “Retreat” for this season are: Dr.
J. W. Dickinson, of Boston, Dr. J. T. Edwards, of Randolph, N. Y., W.
C. J. Hall, Esq., of Jamestown, N. Y., Prof. R. L. Cumnock, of Evanston,
Ill., Prof. C. R. Wells, of Syracuse, N. Y., Prof. W. D. Bridge, of New
Haven, Conn., Prof. Henry Lummis, of Boston, Prof. E. A. Spring, of Perth
Amboy, N. J., Mrs. A. L. Blanchard, of New York City, Miss Mary A. Bemis,
of Fredonia, N. Y., Prof. Walton N. Ellis, etc.

Lessons in experimental science, microscopy, kindergarten, elocution,
the science and art of pedagogy, penmanship and book-keeping, mineralogy
and geology, calisthenics, phonography, stenograph reporting, botany and
forestry, drawing, painting, needle-work, clay modeling, voice culture,
harmony, organ instruction, etc.

Tickets of admission to the Chautauqua Teachers’ Retreat for the three
weeks in July, $5.00. This ticket admits to all general Amphitheater
exercises, lectures, concerts, etc., and to the following: The special
and general exercises of the “Chautauqua Foreign Tourists’” ideal
excursion through Italy, brilliantly illustrated with the stereopticon;
fourteen lessons in pedagogy; fourteen lessons in the practical
application of pedagogical science; four tourists’ conferences; four
expositions of method in chemistry; one exposition of method in
penmanship; one exposition of method in elocution; two admissions to each
of the several classes in the Schools of Language; two lectures on school
method, by Prof. Edward E. Smith, superintendent of schools in Syracuse,
N. Y.; one exposition of method in standard phonography; one exposition
of method in reporting by the stenograph; ten half-hour drills in school
calisthenics, etc.

For circulars, address W. A. Duncan, Esq., Syracuse, N. Y.


    REV. GEORGE P. HAYS, D. D., of Denver, Director.

Dr. Hays will open at Chautauqua this season a “School of Church Work,”
for the benefit of the laity in all denominations and in all branches of
Christian activity. [See announcements in May issue of _Assembly Herald_.]


Among the most instructive and entertaining features of the Chautauqua
season is the annual “foreign tour” to some of the “lands beyond the
sea.” The “Ideal Foreign Tour” this year will be made through ITALY.
Foreign tourists’ conferences, parlor soirees, stereopticon illustrated
lectures, and a large library of well-selected works on foreign travel,
with a large variety of engravings, photographs, etc., will furnish
abundant enjoyment and profit to all the members of the Teachers’ Retreat
and the members of any department of the Schools of Language.


    PROF. R. L. CUMNOCK, Director.

The school will open on the 13th of July, and continue in session six
weeks. The instruction in elocution will be thorough, practical and
progressive. Four classes will be organized: Juvenile, General, Advanced,

    TERMS:—I. Juvenile Class: $10.00 for the session; $7.00 for
              three weeks; $5.00 for two weeks; $3.00 for one

          II. General or Advanced Class: $12.00 for the session;
              $8.00 for three weeks; $6.00 for two weeks; $4.00
              for one week.

         III. General and Advanced Classes: $20.00 for the
              session; $14.00 for three weeks; $9.00 for two
              weeks; $6.00 for one week.

          IV. Ministerial Class: $8.00 for three weeks; $6.00
              for two weeks; $4.00 for one week.

           V. Private Hours, $3.00. In sections of four, $1.00
              each per hour.

For further particulars, address Prof. R. L. Cumnock, Evanston, Ill.

Prof. Cumnock will give two public readings at Chautauqua during the


Mrs. A. L. Blanchard, of the American Art School, New York, will conduct
this department at Chautauqua the coming season. She will give thorough
instructions in free-hand drawing, all branches of painting, crayon
portraiture, and art needle-work.

    TERMS:—10 Lessons in Drawing                                  $5.00
           12    ”    ”  Painting, Mineral, Oil and Water Colors  10.00
           10    ”    ”  Needle-Work                               5.00
           12    ”    ”  Out-door Sketching                       10.00
           10    ”    ”  Object Drawing and Perspective            5.00


Isaac V. Flagler, of Syracuse University, will preside at the organ. A
full program for ten organ recitals will be given in an early program.
Many of the organ selections are not to be found in this country
elsewhere, and will be played for the first time at Chautauqua. They were
sent to Prof. Flagler by the composers, whose acquaintance he made in

The principal purposes of organ-playing will be demonstrated
theoretically and practically by Mr. Flagler.

1. Playing for divine services.

2. Playing for concerts and exhibitions.

3. Playing accompaniments.

Especial attention will be given to manual and pedal technique, and the
art of registration, or the employment of such stops as will display not
only the different degrees of power, but also the utmost variety of tone
color. Terms for a course of lessons on the organ at Chautauqua, $10.00.


This department will be in charge of Miss Mary A. Bemis, a pupil of Mrs.
Kraus-Boelte, of New York, and for years teacher in this department at
Chautauqua. An opportunity will be given, as last year, to observe the
children under training by Miss Bemis. After each recitation, parents and
teachers may receive practical instruction in the use of kindergarten
material and the application of kindergarten principles to home and
school life.


This department will be in charge of Prof. W. D. Bridge, of New Haven,
Conn., for thirty years a shorthand writer, and for many years a
practical shorthand reporter. For the last four years he his been engaged
constantly with Dr. Vincent as shorthand secretary and assistant. Classes
for beginners and advanced pupils in “Standard Phonography” will be
organized. There will also be organized in this department of shorthand
one or more classes in instruction on the “Stenograph,” the newly
invented machine for practical reporting. A competent teacher will be in
attendance from July 11th to August 24th.

TERMS: $10.00 for either department, “Standard Phonography,” or the
“Stenograph,” in classes; seventy-five cents per hour in private.

For full information concerning this department, address Prof. W. D.
Bridge, New Haven, Conn., up to July 1st; after that, at Chautauqua, N. Y.


Will open Saturday, August 1st, and continue for several days, with
conferences on important missionary topics, conducted by earnest men and
women; with lectures, sermons and platform meetings.


The arrangements for musical entertainment this year will exceed those of
any former year in the history of Chautauqua.

The season of 1885 may justly be called the “summer of song” at
Chautauqua. Among the attractions are the following:

A grand chorus under the direction of Prof. W. F. Sherwin, of the New
England Conservatory of Music, in Boston; Prof. C. C. Case, of Akron,
Ohio; and Prof. A. T. Schauffler, of New York City;

The famous Schubert Quartette (male), of Chicago, will be present from
August 8th to 22d;

Miss Dora Henninges, of Cleveland, Ohio, _mezzo soprano_, will be at
Chautauqua from August 4th to 18th.

Prof. Isaac V. Flagler, of Syracuse, N. Y., will preside at the great
organ during the season;

Miss Adele M. Dodge, of Williamsport, Pa., will preside at the piano.

Mr. H. N. Hutchins, of Chicago, Ill., one of the greatest cornetists in
America, will be at Chautauqua from August 4th to 18th.


The original company who so charmed Chautauqua three years ago with their
matchless music, will be at Chautauqua July 11-18, and July 28-August 5.
In this company are four of the original members of the earliest Fisk
Jubilee Company, our old friends: Miss Jennie Jackson, soprano; Mrs.
Maggie L. Porter-Cole, soprano; Miss Minnie W. Tate, contralto, and Miss
Georgia M. Gordon, soprano.


The entire program has not been completed, but the following lecturers
are engaged:

Dr. Geo. C. Lorimer, of Chicago, Ill.;

Dr. B. G. Northrop, of Connecticut;

Mrs. Mary A. Livermore, of Boston, Mass., who will lecture on Wendell
Phillips, and a Dream of To-morrow;

Miss Kate Field, of Boston;

Dr. Geo. Dana Boardman, of Philadelphia, Pa.;

Rev. Robert Nourse, now of Washington, D. C.;

Philip Phillips;

Rev. J. W. A. Stewart, of Ontario;

H. K. Carroll, Esq., editor of _The Independent_, N. Y.;

Col. Homer B. Sprague, Boston, Mass., who will deliver two lectures on
Shakspere, and two on Milton;

Miss L. M. Von Finkelstein, of Jerusalem;

Bishop R. S. Foster, of Boston, Mass.;

Dr. J. M. Buckley, of New York;

W. M. R. French, the brilliant crayonist;

Dr. C. F. Deems, of New York;

Edward Everett Hale, of Boston;

Bishop Cyrus D. Foss, of Minnesota;

It is hoped that John B. Gough and Frank Beard may be present. Other
names will be announced in due time.

The distinguished English orator and scientist, George Sexton, M.A.,
LL.D., will deliver several lectures on scientific subjects.

The full program of the CHAUTAUQUA ASSEMBLY and the SCHOOLS will be ready
in a short time. Questions addressed to Dr. J. H. Vincent, Plainfield,
N. J., or W. A. Duncan, Esq., Syracuse, N. Y., will receive prompt


The Florida Chautauqua is a success. Four months ago we had a dubious
feeling that such an undertaking would fail of any real support in a
clime which has always been so averse to adopting progressive ideas.
Our healthy Chautauqua tree, we feared, would be enervated by tropical
sunshine; but it has taken root with surprising readiness. And its
growth is assured by the hearty northern support it is receiving. This
support is a striking feature of Lake de Funiak. You see it in the pretty
cottages that are being built about the grounds. They are generally owned
by northerners. Wallace Bruce has a cottage there; Pansy is building one;
Mrs. Harper, of Terre Haute, Ind., another; Dr. Hatfield, of Chicago,
one, and Mrs. Emily Huntingdon Miller another. One delightful spot has
been turned into an “Artist’s Corner” by Joaquin Miller, Mr. Durkin,
Harper Brothers’ well known artist, and Mr. Gross, of Covington.

The attraction which Lake de Funiak has for literary and artistic
people is easily explained. The country is enveloped in a mist of most
fascinating story. Ponce de Leon and his warriors once searched its
forest, and, perhaps, who knows, bathed in the lake’s clear waters.

It has an ideal climate. The lake lies on a ridge eighty by thirty miles
in extent, and three hundred feet above sea level. “Too cold to raise
oranges here,” the natives say, and sure enough it is, though east, at
a lower altitude in the same latitude, orange groves are abundant. The
beautiful LaConte pear, peaches, apples, and quinces, are the favorite
fruits of this ridge. The result is that here in this overheated,
indolent land, is formed an oasis with an even temperature, unknown to
the mosquito, and unvisited by the cyclone.

No better place could be found for gathering the “material” in which the
artist and the writer revel. These mammoth forests of pine, magnolia,
cypress, palmetto, and oak, are broken by the settlements of a peculiar
people. Northerners find here a fresh field of study for pen and pencil.

And it is a fresh field for the Chautauqua Idea. During the progress of
the Assembly the people of the surrounding country were in a constant
wonderment over the peculiar performances, but when they understood
what was meant, their coöperation was the heartiest, and their interest
was untiring. The earnest workers who have undertaken to introduce the
Chautauqua plans, if they are still in the first stage, are yet sure of
abundant results.

In arranging the Florida Assembly the effort has been to have everything
truly Chautauquan. Naturally we think of the Auditorium first, and at
Lake de Funiak the situation is superb. The lake, which is about a
mile in circumference, some sixty-four feet in depth, and its water of
extraordinary clearness and purity, has a setting of grassy banks which
slope upward from the lake some fifty feet to the edge of the forest.
Into this bank, looking out over the lake, is built a square auditorium,
large enough to seat 4,000 people, enclosed and furnished with an iron
roof. All of the various Chautauqua developments have found their way
there. The platform, presided over by the Rev. A. H. Gillet, the C. L.
S. C., the normal work, a school of Greek, a kindergarten, school of
cookery, and an art school. Prof. Sherwin was there, presiding over
the chorus. Messrs. Fairbanks & Palmer opened a bookstore. There were
Chautauqua singers, songs, speeches, and ideas, and they all took root.
The beautiful situation, the desirable company that is building the new
town, the vigor of the management, and its sound financial backing,
evidence the future of Lake de Funiak. What more beautiful southern home
could those of us who migrate southward from this land of snow and ice
wish, than under the pines of Ponce de Leon’s fountain, surrounded by a
band of the most earnest workers in the world, and in daily reach of the
best thought which money and skill can bring together? Or if we can find
time and money for but a month’s study of Florida and her people, what
more delightful headquarters?


purpose is to assist the directors of popular education, and especially
teachers, in the study—1st, of the subjects taught in the schools;
2nd, of the principles and art of teaching; and, 3d, of the history of
education. Two courses of study and of reading will be arranged. One
course may be completed in a year, the other in two years. Books to
be studied and read will be suggested. Examinations for promotion and
certificates will be made at the close of each year. The design of the
course of studies and reading is to prepare school directors and teachers
for the work of organizing and teaching the schools in accordance with
the best methods. Any person may become a member of the School of
Pedagogy by paying the Matriculation Fee of $5, unless it has already
been paid in connection with some other department, and the Tuition Fee
of $10. The Tuition Fee is a yearly fee. All fees are payable in advance,
to R. S. Holmes, Registrar of the Chautauqua University, Plainfield, N.
J., from whom all particulars in reference to the school may be obtained.

       *       *       *       *       *

Miss Susan Hayes Ward, in her article in the March impression of THE
CHAUTAUQUAN, spoke disparagingly of electro-silicon as a cleaner for
silver. Some good housekeepers represent it to be both a very useful and
safe cleaning material. In all such cases, however, the person using the
article must be the judge. But in this case we favor the opinion of the
good housekeepers.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Easter cards of the season just past were very bright and beautiful,
and many of them exceedingly rich. Prang’s cards, as usual, took the lead
in artistic design and fine finish. They issued a very large number of
new designs, and some very taking novelties in satin and plush.

       *       *       *       *       *

At Siloam Springs, Benton Co., Arkansas, another Chautauqua has been
established. A joint stock company, with ample capital, has been
organized, and a state charter secured. Prof. E. Dolgoruki was elected
director-general. Siloam Springs is a place of 2,000 inhabitants, near
the southwest corner of the state, one mile from Indian Territory.
An amphitheater large enough to seat 2,500 persons is in process of
erection, and efforts are being made to secure a good and diversified
program for the coming session, which opens June 11, 1885, and continues
three weeks.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the March number of THE CHAUTAUQUAN, among the errata, appears the
following: “Arann, the Rev. J. M., not _Araun_.” It seems it is not right
yet; it should be Avann.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 437, “transfered” changed to “transferred” (and transferred it to
their own home)

Page 451, “crochety” changed to “crotchety” (crotchety but kind)

Page 455, “insistance” changed to “insistence” (ill-timed insistence)

Page 458, “tation” changed to “station” (the station agent was kind
enough to say)

Page 459, “corrider” changed to “corridor” (a corridor nearly two hundred
feet long)

Page 468, “fnnctions” changed to “functions” (the authority and functions

Page 474, “Broomfield” changed to “Bromfield” (36 Bromfield Street,

Page 479, “Eebruary” changed to “February” (February 20, 1885)

Page 480, “wvies” changed to “wives” (two merchants’ wives)

Page 487, “fnlly” changed to “fully” (when we are fully persuaded)

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "The Chautauquan, Vol. 05, May 1885, No. 8" ***

Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials.
Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians.
This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties,
including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing
Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you
use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort
to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a
large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of
public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Keep it legal -  Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for
ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.