times; their school-days and their youthful pranks were remembered
and recounted to Hermione, who always took a cheerful part in these
conversations.

When, after a long stay, Polixenes was preparing to depart, Hermione,
at the desire of her husband, joined her entreaties to his that
Polixenes would prolong his visit.

And now began this good queen’s sorrow; for Polixenes refusing to
stay at the request of Leontes, was won over by Hermione’s gentle
and persuasive words to put off his departure for some weeks longer.
Upon this, although Leontes had so long known the integrity and
honorable principles of his friend Polixenes, as well as the excellent
disposition of his virtuous queen, he was seized with an ungovernable
jealousy. Every attention Hermione showed to Polixenes, though by her
husband’s particular desire, and merely to please him, increased the
unfortunate king’s malady; and from being a loving and a true friend,
and the best and fondest of husbands, Leontes became suddenly a savage
and inhuman monster. Sending for Camillo, one of the lords of his
court, and telling him of the suspicion he entertained, he commanded
him to poison Polixenes.

Camillo was a good man; and he, well knowing that the jealousy of
Leontes had not the slightest foundation in truth, instead of poisoning
Polixenes, acquainted him with the king his master’s orders, and agreed
to escape with him out of the Sicilian dominions; and Polixenes, with
the assistance of Camillo, arrived safe in his own kingdom of Bohemia,
where Camillo lived from that time in the king’s court, and became the
chief friend and favorite of Polixenes.

The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes still more; he went
to the queen’s apartment, where the good lady was sitting with her
little son Mamillus, who was just beginning to tell one of his best
stories to amuse his mother, when the king entered, and taking the
child away, sent Hermione to prison.

Mamillus, though but a very young child, loved his mother tenderly; and
when he saw her so dishonored, and found she was taken from him to be
put into a prison, he took it deeply to heart, and drooped and pined
away by slow degrees, losing his appetite and his sleep, till it was
thought his grief would kill him.

The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, commanded Cleomenes and
Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go to Delphos, there to inquire of the
oracle at the temple of Apollo if his queen still really loved him.

When Hermione had been a short time in prison, she gave birth to a
daughter; and the poor lady received much comfort from the sight of
her pretty baby, and she said to it, “My poor little prisoner, I am as
innocent as you are.” Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited
Paulina, who was the wife of Antigonus, a Sicilian lord; and when the
lady Paulina heard her royal mistress had got a daughter, she went to
the prison where Hermione was confined, and she said to Emilia, a lady
who attended upon Hermione, “I pray you, Emilia, tell the good queen,
if her majesty dare trust me with her little babe, I will carry it to
the king, its father; we do not know how he may soften at the sight
of his innocent child.” “Most worthy madam,” replied Emilia, “I will
acquaint the queen with your noble offer; she was wishing to-day that
she had any friend who would venture to present the child to the king.”
“And tell her,” said Paulina, “that I will speak boldly to Leontes in
her defence.” “May you be forever blessed!” said Emilia, “for your
kindness to our gracious queen!” Emilia then went to Hermione, who
joyfully gave up her baby to the care of Paulina, for she had feared
that no one would dare venture to present the child to its father.

Paulina took the new-born infant, and forcing herself into the king’s
presence, notwithstanding her husband, fearing the king’s anger,
endeavored to prevent her, she laid the babe at its father’s feet,
and Paulina made a noble speech to the king in defence of Hermione,
and she reproached him severely for his inhumanity, and implored him
to have mercy on his innocent wife and child. But Paulina’s spirited
remonstrances only aggravated Leontes’s displeasure, and he ordered her
husband Antigonus to take her from his presence.

When Paulina went away, she left the little baby at its father’s feet,
thinking, when he was alone with it, he would look upon it, and have
pity on its helpless innocence.

The good Paulina was mistaken; for no sooner was she gone than the
merciless father ordered Antigonus, Paulina’s husband, to take the
child, and carry it out to sea, and leave it upon some desert shore to
perish.

Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed the orders of
Leontes; for he immediately carried the child on shipboard, and put out
to sea, intending to leave it on the first desert coast he could find.

So strongly was the king prejudiced against Hermione, that he would not
wait for the return of Cleomenes and Dion, whom he had sent to consult
the oracle of Apollo at Delphos; but before the queen was recovered,
and while she still grieved for the loss of her precious baby, he had
her brought to a public trial before all the lords and nobles of his
court. And when all the great lords, the judges, and all the nobility
of the land were assembled together to try Hermione, and that unhappy
queen was standing as a prisoner before her subjects to receive their
judgment, Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly, and presented to the
king the answer of the oracle sealed up; and Leontes commanded the seal
to be broken, and the words of the oracle to be read aloud, and these
were the words: “Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo
a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the king shall live
without an heir if that which is lost be not found.” The king would
give no credit to the words of the oracle; he said it was a falsehood
invented by the queen’s friends, and he desired the judge to proceed in
the trial of the queen. But while Leontes was speaking, a man entered
and told him that the prince Mamillus, hearing that his mother was to
be tried for her life, struck with grief and shame, had suddenly died.

Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear affectionate child,
who had lost his life in sorrowing for her misfortune, fainted; and
Leontes, pierced to the heart by the news, began to feel pity for his
unhappy queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the ladies who were her
attendants, to take her away, and use means for her recovery. Paulina
soon returned, and told the king that Hermione was dead.

When Leontes heard that the queen was dead, he repented of his cruelty
to her; and now that he thought his ill usage had broken Hermione’s
heart he believed her innocent; and he now thought the words of the
oracle were true, as he knew “if that which was lost was not found”
which he concluded was his young daughter, he should be without an
heir, the young prince Mamillus being dead, and he would give his
kingdom now to recover his lost daughter; and Leontes gave himself up
to remorse, and passed many years in mournful thoughts and repentant
grief.

The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to sea was
driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very kingdom of the
good king Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed, and here he left the little
baby.

Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had left
his daughter, for, as he was going back to the ship, a bear came out of
the woods and tore him to pieces; a just punishment on him for obeying
the wicked order of Leontes.

The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione had made
it very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus had pinned a
paper to its mantle, with the name _Perdita_ written thereon, and words
obscurely intimating its high birth and untoward fate.

This poor deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane man,
and so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who nursed it
tenderly; but poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal the rich prize
he had found: therefore he left that part of the country, that no one
might know where he got his riches, and with part of Perdita’s jewels
he bought herds of sheep, and became a wealthy shepherd. He brought up
Perdita as his own child, and she knew not she was any other than a
shepherd’s daughter.

The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no
better education than that of a shepherd’s daughter, yet so did the
natural graces she inherited from her royal mother shine forth in her
untutored mind, that no one from her behavior would have known she had
not been brought up in her father’s court.

Polixenes, the king of Bohemia, had an only son, whose name was
Florizel. As this young prince was hunting near the shepherd’s
dwelling, he saw the old man’s supposed daughter, and the beauty,
modesty, and queen-like deportment of Perdita caused him instantly to
fall in love with her. He soon, under the name of Doricles, and in the
disguise of a private gentleman, become a constant visitor at the old
shepherd’s house.

Florizel’s frequent absence from court alarmed Polixenes; and setting
people to watch his son, he discovered his love for the shepherd’s
daughter.

Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Camillo, who had
preserved his life from the fury of Leontes, and desired that he would
accompany him to the house of the shepherd, the supposed father of
Perdita.

Polixenes and Camillo, both in disguise, arrived at the old shepherd’s
dwelling, while they were celebrating the feast of sheep-shearing; and
though they were strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing every guest being
made welcome, they were invited to walk in, and join in the general
festivity.

Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward. Tables were spread,
and great preparations were making for the rustic feast. Some lads and
lasses were dancing on the green before the house, while others of the
young men were buying ribands, gloves, and such toys, of a peddler at
the door.

While this busy scene was going forward, Florizel and Perdita
sat quietly in a retired corner, seemingly more pleased with the
conversation of each other, than desirous of engaging in the sports and
silly amusements of those around them.

The king was so disguised that it was impossible his son could know
him; he therefore advanced near enough to hear the conversation. The
simple yet elegant manner in which Perdita conversed with his son did
not a little surprise Polixenes. He said to Camillo, “This is the
prettiest low-born lass I ever saw; nothing she does or says but looks
like something greater than herself, too noble for this place.”

Camillo replied, “Indeed she is the very queen of curds and cream.”

“Pray, my good friend,” said the king to the old shepherd, “what fair
swain is that talking with your daughter?” “They call him Doricles,”
replied the shepherd. “He says he loves my daughter; and to speak truth
there is not a kiss to choose which loves the other best. If young
Doricles can get her, she will bring him that he little dreams of,”
meaning the remainder of Perdita’s jewels; which, after he had bought
herds of sheep with part of them, he had carefully hoarded up for her
marriage portion.

Polixenes then addressed his son. “How now, young man!” said he; “your
heart seems full of something that takes off your mind from feasting.
When I was young, I used to load my love with presents; but you have
let the peddler go, and have bought your lass no toy.”

The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king his
father, replied, “Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the gifts
which Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.” Then turning
to Perdita, he said to her, “O hear me, Perdita, before this ancient
gentleman, who it seems was once himself a lover; he shall hear what I
profess.” Florizel then called upon the old stranger to be a witness
to a solemn promise of marriage which he made to Perdita, saying to
Polixenes, “I pray you, mark our contract.”

“Mark your divorce, young sir,” said the king, discovering himself.
Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract himself to
this low-born maiden, calling Perdita “shepherd’s-brat, sheep-hook,”
and other disrespectful names; and threatening, if ever she suffered
his son to see her again, he would put her, and the old shepherd her
father, to a cruel death.

The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to follow
him with Prince Florizel.

When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was roused by
Polixenes’s reproaches, said, “Though we are all undone, I was not much
afraid; and once or twice I was about to speak, and tell him plainly
that the self-same sun that shines upon his palace, hides not his face
from our cottage, but looks on both alike.” Then sorrowfully she said,
“But now I am awakened from this dream. I will queen it no farther.
Leave me, sir; I will go milk my ewes and weep.”

The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and propriety of
Perdita’s behavior; and perceiving that the young prince was too deeply
in love to give up his mistress at the command of his royal father,
he thought of a way to befriend the lovers, and at the same time to
execute a favorite scheme he had in his mind.

Camillo had long known that Leontes, the king of Sicily, was become a
true penitent; and though Camillo was now the favored friend of King
Polixenes, he could not help wishing once more to see his late royal
master and his native home. He therefore proposed to Florizel and
Perdita that they should accompany him to the Sicilian court, where he
would engage Leontes should protect them, till through his mediation
they could obtain pardon from Polixenes and his consent to their
marriage.

To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to go
along with them.

The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita’s jewels, her baby
clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her mantle.

After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the
old shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes, who still
mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received Camillo with
great kindness, and gave a cordial welcome to Prince Florizel. But
Perdita, whom Florizel introduced as his princess, seemed to engross
all Leontes’ attention. Perceiving a resemblance between her and his
dead queen Hermione, his grief broke out afresh, and he said, such a
lovely creature might his own daughter have been, if he had not so
cruelly destroyed her. “And then, too,” said he to Florizel, “I lost
the society and friendship of your brave father, whom I now desire more
than my life once again to look upon.”

When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of
Perdita, and that he had lost a daughter, who was exposed in infancy,
he fell to comparing the time when he found the little Perdita with the
manner of its exposure, the jewels and other high tokens of its high
birth; from all which it was impossible for him not to conclude that
Perdita and the king’s lost daughter were the same.

Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were present
when the old shepherd related to the king the manner in which he had
found the child, and also the circumstances of Antigonus’s death, he
having seen the bear seize upon him. He showed the rich mantle in which
Paulina remembered Hermione had wrapped the child; and he produced a
jewel which she remembered Hermione had tied about Perdita’s neck,
and he gave up the paper, which Paulina knew to be the writing of
her husband; it could not be doubted that Perdita was Leontes’ own
daughter. But oh! the noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for
her husband’s death, and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the
king’s heir, his long-lost daughter, being found. When Leontes heard
that Perdita was his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that
Hermione was not living to behold her child, made him that he could say
nothing for a long time, but, “O, thy mother, thy mother!”

Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene, with saying to
Leontes, that she had a statue, newly finished by that rare Italian
master, Julio Romano, which was such a perfect resemblance of the
queen, that would his majesty be pleased to go to her house and look
upon it, he would almost be ready to think that it was Hermione
herself. Thither then they all went; the king anxious to see the
semblance of his Hermione, and Perdita longing to behold what the
mother she never saw did look like.

When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous statue,
so perfectly did it resemble Hermione, that all the king’s sorrow was
renewed at the sight; for a long time he had no power to speak or move.

“I like your silence, my liege,” said Paulina, “it the more shows your
wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?”

At length the king said, “O, thus she stood, even with such majesty,
when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so aged as
this statue looks.” Paulina replied, “So much the more the carver’s
excellence, who has made the statue as Hermione would have looked
had she been living now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest,
presently, you think it moves.”

The king then said, “Do not draw the curtain! Would I were dead! See,
Camillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to have motion
in it.” “I must draw the curtain, my liege,” said Paulina. “You are so
transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.” “O, sweet
Paulina,” said Leontes, “make me think so twenty years together! Still
methinks there is an air comes from her. What fine chisel could ever
yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, for I will kiss her.” “Good my
lord, forbear!” said Paulina. “The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; you
will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?” “No,
not these twenty years,” said Leontes.

Perdita, who all this time had been kneeling, and beholding in silent
admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now, “And so long
could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.”

“Either forbear this transport,” said Paulina to Leontes, “and let me
draw the curtain, or prepare yourself for more amazement. I can make
the statue move indeed; ay, and descend from off the pedestal, and take
you by the hand. But then you will think, which I protest that I am
not, that I am assisted by some wicked powers.” “What you can make her
do,” said the astonished king, “I am content to look upon. What you can
make her speak, I am content to hear; for it is as easy to make her
speak as move.”

Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had prepared
for the purpose, to strike up; and to the amazement of all the
beholders, the statue came down from off the pedestal, and threw its
arms around Leontes’s neck. The statue then began to speak, praying for
blessings on her husband, and on her child, the newly found Perdita.

No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes’s neck, and blessed her
husband and her child. No wonder, for the statue was Hermione herself,
the real, the living queen.

Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione,
thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress’s life; and
with the good Paulina Hermione had lived ever since, never choosing
Leontes should know she was living, till she heard Perdita was found;
for though she had long forgiven the injuries which Leontes had done to
herself, she could not pardon his cruelty to his infant daughter.

His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found, the
long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of his own
happiness. And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange
and unlooked-for joy, king Polixenes himself now entered the palace.

When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that Camillo
had long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he should find the
fugitives there; and following them with all speed, he happened to
arrive just at this, the happiest moment of Leontes’s life.

Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend Leontes
the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and they once more
loved each other with all the warmth of their first boyish friendship.
There was no fear that Polixenes would now oppose his son’s marriage
with Perdita. She was no _sheep-hook_ now, but the heiress of the crown
of Sicily.

Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering Hermione
rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her Leontes and her
Perdita, the happiest of mothers and queens.

A TOUR ROUND THE WORLD.

By MRS. MARY LOW DICKINSON.

[Continued.]

“If you are going to keep a journal at all, begin the minute you take
off your waterproof.” This bit of wisdom descended upon the quartette
from the lips of the special correspondent of the Perkinsville
_Gazette_, one dripping morning when we found her taking notes in
the British Museum. And surely she never said a wiser thing. First
impressions may not be profound or correct, or reach in any way the
heart and meaning of what passes under the eye, but they are the
freshest and often the only impressions worth recording. One sees more
in a first day in a new city than in many subsequent days. The eyes are
open then, if ever, to all little peculiarities and characteristics;
the ears catch every unfamiliar tone; the perceptions are quickened
into a new and vivid interest, dissipated, alas, too soon! We Americans
quickly make ourselves at home. The novelty of to-day is commonplace
to-morrow, and the third day’s description of an event takes only a
word, where the first day’s would have received a page. And there is
no haunting demon of travel quite so fiendish as the journal that must
be written, and that has “got behind.” One never can quite subdue its
clamor, nor does any effort at writing up the half-forgotten record
satisfy its insatiate demand. All the pith and the life are gone out of
the neglected recollections, and we must accept the conclusion that it
is NOT safe to wait after the “water-proof” is laid aside.

That some members of our quartette _did_ wait was, perhaps, a mercy
to their friends, for it would have taken a volume to describe what
they saw and did in London. That they studied their guide-books, and
maps and histories, as true Chautauquans should, goes without saying.
They tramped a great many miles and jostled in cabs and omnibuses a
great many more, and tried the tramways and the underground road, and
the penny boats upon the noiseless highway of the Thames. Somewhere
they had read that the united streets of London made a stretch of over
three thousand miles, and they sometimes felt as if they had traversed
them all. They must visit every portion of the city, for each had its
peculiar interest or charm. How could they fail, for example, to drive
through the aristocratic Belgravia, the district that, within the last
quarter of a century, has become a region of fine streets and spacious
squares and palatial residences, transforming as well as surpassing the
old West End. It seemed worth while to gaze, if only from the windows
of a cab, at the residences of the real aristocracy of Britain, and
better worth while to drive on, through the once beautiful and rural
Chelsea, now swarming with the multitudes of London’s poor. The old
city of Westminster, now swallowed up in London, whose inhabitants
average a dozen inmates to every wretched home, touches Belgravia
on the southeast, lying, as one writer says, “Like a filthy beggar
at the rich man’s gate.” Not all the efforts of public and private
philanthropy, the theories of men like Ruskin, or the practice of women
like Octavia Hill, have been able to stay its ever-swelling tide of
misery and sin. Strange contrast all this to the monotonous regularity
of Tyburnia, whose rows on rows of handsome dwellings constitute the
homes of professional men and wealthy merchants. So-called middle-class
London finds its home in the Regent’s Square district. Thence, eastward
still, and we find ourselves in the Bloomsbury and Bedford Square
region, whose old houses, once occupied by rank and fashion, are mostly
given over to lodgers like ourselves, while resident middle-class
foreigners make their homes largely in the region around Leicester
Square. It takes no end of wandering to familiarize the stranger with
the characteristics of each district, and if one can stay in London
months, it is a better way to begin than to select the special points
of interest.

London is large enough for a world, and has human interests enough,
if there were no other place on the planet, to occupy the time and
wisdom of angels and all good men. Somebody calls it a “province
covered with houses;” Carlyle spoke of it as “the tuberosity of
modern civilization.” The metropolis includes more than the city of
London, more than old Westminster. Its arms have stretched out until
it embraces nearly forty adjacent townships and districts. Some
busy-brained statistician has amused himself by treating the place
as if it were a great living monster, whose gigantic throat swallows
yearly over nine millions of once living creatures, either fish, flesh
or fowl, washed down by fifty millions of gallons of ale and wine.
No wonder that there follows close upon this statement, the grave
announcement that nearly three thousand physicians are constantly
hastening to and fro, and that five hundred undertakers do not suffice
to meet the city’s demands. The wine and liquor merchants number nearly
ten thousand, and we do not wonder, this being so, that the paupers
number nearly one hundred and fifty thousand souls.

And of this great living mass of humanity, vital in every part, the
“city” proper is the pulsing heart. By it we mean the space that
anciently lay within the walls, keeping still with few exceptions its
narrow streets and shadowy lanes; the former being the avenues of
retail trade, while in the latter the wholesale trade is carried on. As
space could not be commanded on the ground, the magnificent buildings
required for business that manipulates the wealth of the world have had
to occupy the air. Business houses stand side by side with the dark low
buildings of the seventeenth century; and he who has time to penetrate
some of the picturesque old mansions now used as counting-rooms, will
be repaid by a sight of much that is architecturally quaint and fine.
No part of London is better worth exploring than this. Our wanderers
never tired of strolling from St. Paul’s, after every brief rest under
the stillness of its mighty dome, into Paternoster-row, and lingering
in the world of books displayed on every hand; and the weaker half of
the party did not care how long they were left in the book stores,
while the more active wandered off into Lombard street, among the
bankers, into the exchanges, or the less imposing though no less
interesting Houndsditch, the haunt of the modern Jew. All day long,
from morn to night, a mighty human tide swells and surges with almost
turbulent haste all through these narrow streets. One lingers and
watches daily as the never-ceasing throng pours on, fascinated as by
the constantly-recurring beat of the breakers upon the sea. But come
down here and stand under the shadow of St. Paul’s some night, or on
some calm Sunday afternoon. The very air that hangs, heavy and still
with the fog-damps, above the great cross there on the old clock tower,
is not stiller than the ground beneath one’s feet. The hundreds of
thousands of people that composed the human throng are gone, as if the
earth had opened and swallowed them. The merchants are in their homes
at the West End, the clerks in their humble homes in the suburbs. Over
twenty thousand buildings are left alone in the care of the police,
most of them houses once occupied as dwellings, and now used for
purposes of trade. There are nearly sixty churches in the district, but
the Sabbath stillness of the streets is not due to the throngs gathered
within the house of God. They, indeed, are almost as empty as the
streets, for the residents who once rendered each parish populous are
no longer here. St. Paul’s, the cathedral church of the See of London,
is the present center of religious attraction, and here our travelers
passed many a quiet hour, to say nothing of the more active seasons
when they walked from tomb to tomb through all its length and breadth;
paid their shilling and descended into the crypt and stood by the tomb
of Wellington; paid another and climbed to the whispering gallery; and
another and another, and went to the tower of the clock; and an extra
sixpence and touched the great bell that strikes the hour. The only
other service required of the bell is to toll at the deaths of members
of the royal family, the bishop of London, the dean of St. Paul’s, and
the mayors of London who may die in office. One and sixpence once more,
and the more adventurous of the quartette climbed up and squeezed into
the ball beneath the cross, while the others lingered at the golden
gallery near the apex of the dome, and gazed down upon the fog, through
which the roofs and towers and spires seemed like a strange shadowy
spectre of a city, struggling for a tangible form. Seen from the river,
or from Blackfriars Bridge, the wonderful dome stands out in all its
beauty of outline; and early one morning they saw from the latter point
the great cross glittering far above the city in the sunlight, which
had not yet scattered the fog on which it seemed to float.

Not much time had our tourists, however, for puzzling their brains or
harrowing their souls over the questions of human destiny, for their
heads were filled with all sorts of associations with men and books,
and they sometimes went wandering to and fro, to find the very houses
where their favorite authors lived, the spots where events of interest
had transpired, the places made immortal by their poets’ pens. They
must have their visit to the Tower, long days in the Museum and the
art galleries, for had they not, each and all, in one form or another,
the genuine Kensington craze? They could not leave out any of the
more common things, like a drive to Richmond Hill or an afternoon at
the “Zoo.” They must go to Stoke Pogis and recite the elegy in the
churchyard where Gray wrote it. They must have their day at Windsor,
with its chance of seeing the queen driving in the park, and the visit
to Sydenham’s Crystal Palace, and the afternoon at Hampton Court.
They must stroll down by Hyde Park corner and see fashionable London
dragging monotonously around the drive, or prancing on horseback
through Rotten Row. They must visit the Parliament houses, and find
many a still hour to linger and dream within the walls of the wonderful
old Westminster Abbey, that is of itself worth crossing an ocean to
see. It is not for Wesley’s _grave_ alone that we go to the City-road
Chapel, or for the grave of Watts that we enter the Bunhill Fields. It
is not the _tombs_ of the poets, statesmen and martyrs that hold our
attention long, but we seek in the living of to-day for the spirit that
animated the great, now dead; and eyes and ears alike are open to see
and hear the indications of growth in the noblest things. It matters
little that we see only the outside of Buckingham and St. James. There
are fairer palaces in London than those of her princes, and to these,
her edifices devoted to the alleviation of human suffering and the
advancement of human progress, we turn with never-tiring interest and
zeal. In this class stand her colleges and hospitals and asylums, her
charitable organizations of every sort. London gives yearly in food
and clothing, and in the relief of disease, over thirteen millions
of dollars, to say nothing of a million more given privately by
individuals. For educational and religious purposes she spends seven
millions more, and yet the city is filled in certain localities with
the most wretched of all citizens, the poor who are too far down to
care to be lifted up.

We passed delightful days in visiting some of the oldest as well as
some of the newest of the institutions of learning or charity. Among
the former the famous old St. Peter’s College, founded as “a publique
schoole for grammar, rethoricke and poetrie,” and the Charter House
School, of which Wesley says, “I owed my health and long life to the
faithfulness with which I obeyed my father’s injunction to run around
the Charter House playing-green three times every morning,” and the
blue-coat school, where the boys dressed in blue coat, yellow petticoat
and stockings, and red leather girdle around the waist, seemed to have
stepped down from the sixteenth century. Blue was originally a color
only worn by dependents, and never by gentlemen, until after its use
in the uniform of the British navy. In striking contrast to these we
found Girton and the Wesleyan Normal College, for the training of
teachers and the teaching of children. In another line of instruction
the Government School of Design, at South Kensington, is doing a most
interesting work. One feature of its service to the people is well
worthy of imitation. Its library is rich in illustrated works, and
these are open for the use, not only of artists, but of every poor
working man or woman, at the price of one penny a volume. From this
school large additions have been made to house decorators, designers
and draughtsmen for the various manufactures and trades. All the
collections of the wonderful museums of Kensington are intended to
subserve the purpose of the school, of which branches have been formed
in various manufacturing districts throughout England.

No philanthropic work in London will be more likely to attract
the attention of Americans, than that done by the Peabody fund in
the construction of the model lodging houses, where three rooms,
comfortable and clean, can be hired for five shillings a week. The
buildings in the various districts where they have already been
erected are five stories in height, well lighted, well ventilated, and
calculated in every way to make desirable homes for the very poor.
Since the gift of Mr. Peabody, the corporation of London has given land
and six hundred thousand dollars for the erection of model dwellings
for the working people. Before them in this benevolent work has been
the Baroness Burdett-Couts, whose heart has seemed to be as large as
her purse. A morning spent in exploring the vicinity of Columbia Square
Market showed us her four large blocks of neat houses surrounding
a court all occupied now by a clean, orderly class of people. The
adjoining market, built to accommodate the neighborhood on the site of
the old “dust heap” was also her work. The place was one of the most
filthy and pestilential haunts of vice and degradation in the city
of London. Its refuse heaps were almost as high as its hovels, and
foulness, moral and physical, made the spot a breeding place of disease
to body and soul. These are only instances of what may be done, of what
must be done, indeed, if cities like those of England and America are
ever to be lifted from the pauperism that destroys soul and body alike.
And the traveler, who makes his journey without securing a knowledge
of what is stirring in other countries to solve the problem of helping
people to help themselves, misses both the truth as to the realities of
human conditions and the inspiration that comes from seeing what has
been already done. The great consideration is time, which is always and
everywhere too short. Our quartette labored faithfully and well, but,
like other travelers, saw once what they wanted to see a dozen times,
heard their favorite music in snatches and their favorite preachers
sometimes once and sometimes not at all. They crowded ten objects of
interest into the time fairly due to one, and left London with the
feeling of a hungry man at a railway station whose bell rings just as
he has taken the first bite of his dinner.

“Who was it, in Mother Goose, that ‘whipped his children and made
them dance out of Ireland into France?’” asks the scribe of the
quartette, lifting her pen with a characteristic motion that betrays an
inclination to put it behind her ear. “’Twasn’t anybody,” answers the
scholar, gruffly, who feels a coming talk in the air and does not like
to be disturbed at his book. “Yes, it was!” persists the scribe, “and
whoever he was, the chief is just like him. Here he is fairly lashing
us about Londontown to drive us over to France.” Behind his newspaper
the chief smiles. “You will be glad I hastened you, when once you are
there out of this wretched fog.”

“But I haven’t had half enough of London.”

“True, and you never would have enough. It’s a place to _live_ in, not
to visit!”

“Then I’d like to live on, straight along.”

“Very good! The rest of us must go around the world.”

“But we have made a mistake! no one could do it in the time we have
set.”

“A common experience, again, sister,” said the chief, who, having the
times and seasons in his hands, and having been indulgent enough to
stay on from day to day, was at last in a somewhat inexorable mood.

And though there was still some coaxing to stay, one bright morning
found us fairly started on our dance “out of England into France.”

The morning of our departure is fine; the air delicious, a fresh breeze
blowing from the west. A good course of packing lasting well into the
night added physical weariness to the rather thin layer of mental
fatigue consequent on keeping a journal, and therefore London seems
less attractive than it did. If it were not for a faint foreboding
sense that the Channel lies just before, we could even begin to be
glad that the metropolis is left behind. The chief does not say, “I
told you so” as he sees our spirits rise, but then the chief is—not a
woman. It is soon over,—the three hours of grace that it takes us to
whirl down to Folkestone, and it’s three hours of pleasure, except the
last few minutes when we catch the mocking toss of the saucy white-caps
on the waves. We rejoiced this morning in the wind that scattered the
London fog, but now we know how felt Lot’s wife in that dire day of
Sodom. Bravely as possible we march to our fate. The wicked scribe
can not forbear asking the chief whose white cheeks contradict his
defiant expression, if he is glad he “made her dance.” We hear people
in various stages of resistance saying “this is not bad; that the
channel is often worse.” “No doubt! no doubt!” but we do not care to
discuss it, and the photographs of the quartette would show them seated
lugubriously, with their backs to the smoke-stack, not coldly unsocial,
but each meditating profoundly on topics that are not to the others of
the slightest concern. They are meditating only, and, meantime that
smoke-stack rides up into the air, and they with it, and it fairly
seems to be intoxicated at its upper end, yet they hold fast to it and
to each other down below; and then it changes its mind and seems to go
down and down, until they feel as if they were in the fast diminishing
turret of a monitor, and that the bottom is dropping out of the depth
of the sea.

And yet they live, and revive, and when the boat touches
Boulogne-sur-Mer, are ready for the French-English table d’hôte served
at the railway restaurant, and the scribe at least is ready for a walk
to the heights above the town, “just to look back to old England, you
know,” and see what Napoleon saw when he gathered his army of nearly
two hundred thousand men along this coast, and filled the harbor with
his ships, and watched and waited his chance to go over and take the
British bull by the horns.

“Think, sister, how the fate of the nations might have been changed, if
only Napoleon had gone”—says the chief thoughtfully.

“Now, brother, if you are going to meditate, or moralize, we shall miss
the train,” answers the scribe.

He looks at her gravely. “I am afraid,” he says under his breath, “that
my next duty will be to train that miss.”

    (To be continued.)

THRIFT.

By CHARLES KINGSLEY.

_A Lecture for Women._

Consider that word thrift. If you will look at Dr. Johnson’s
Dictionary, or if you know your Shakspere, you will see that thrift
signified originally profits, gain, riches gotten—in a word, the marks
of a man’s thriving.

How, then, did the word thrift get to mean parsimony, frugality, the
opposite of waste? Just in the same way as economy—which, first, of
course, meant the management of a household—got to mean also the
opposite of waste.

It was found that in commerce, in husbandry, in any process, in fact,
men throve in proportion as they saved their capital, their material,
their force.

Now this is a great law which runs through life; one of those laws
of nature—call them, rather, laws of God—which apply not merely to
political economy, to commerce, and to mechanics; but to physiology, to
society; to the intellect, to the heart, of every person in this room.

The secret of thriving is thrift; saving of force; to get as much work
as possible done with the least expenditure of power, the least jar and
obstruction, the least wear and tear.

And the secret of thrift is knowledge. In proportion as you know the
laws and nature of a subject, you will be able to work at it easily,
surely, rapidly, successfully; instead of wasting your money or
your energies in mistaken schemes, irregular efforts, which end in
disappointment and exhaustion.

The secret of thrift, I say, is knowledge. The more you know, the more
you can save yourself and that which belongs to you; and can do more
work with less effort.

A knowledge of the laws of commercial credit, we all know, saves
capital, enabling a less capital to do the work of a greater. Knowledge
of the electric telegraph saves time; knowledge of writing saves human
speech and locomotion; knowledge of domestic economy saves income;
knowledge of sanitary laws saves health and life; knowledge of the laws
of the intellect saves wear and tear of brain; and knowledge of the
laws of the spirit—what does it not save?

A well-educated moral sense, a well-regulated character, saves from
idleness and ennui, alternating with sentimentality and excitement,
those tender emotions, those deeper passions, those nobler aspirations
of humanity, which are the heritage of the woman far more than of the
man; and which are potent in her, for evil or for good, in proportion
as they are left to run wild and undisciplined, or are trained and
developed into graceful, harmonious, self-restraining strength,
beautiful in themselves, and a blessing to all who come under their
influence.

What, therefore, I recommend to ladies in this lecture is thrift;
thrift of themselves and of their own powers: and knowledge as the
parent of thrift.

“To fit women for the more enlightened performance of their special
duties;” to help them towards learning how to do better what we doubt
not they are already doing well; is, I honestly believe, the only
object of the promoters of this scheme.

Let us see now how some of these special duties can be better performed
by help of a little enlightenment as to the laws which regulate them.

Now, no man will deny—certainly no man who is past forty-five, and
whose digestion is beginning to quail before the lumps of beef and
mutton which are the boast of a well-regulated kitchen, and to prefer,
with Justice Shallow, and, I presume, Sir John Falstaff also, “any
pretty little tiny kickshaws”—no man, I say, who has reached that age,
but will feel it a practical comfort to him to know that the young
ladies of his family are at all events good cooks; and understand, as
the French do, thrift in the matter of food.

Neither will any parent who wishes, naturally enough, that his
daughters should cost him as little as possible; and wishes, naturally
enough also, that they should be as well dressed as possible, deny
that it would be a good thing for them to be practical milliners and
mantua-makers; and, by making their own clothes gracefully and well,
exercise thrift in clothing.

But, beside this thrift in clothing, I am not alone, I believe,
in wishing for some thrift in the energy which produces it. Labor
misapplied, you will agree, is labor wasted; and as dress, I presume,
is intended to adorn the person of the wearer, the making a dress which
only disfigures her may be considered as a plain case of waste. It
would be impertinent in me to go into any details: but it is impossible
to walk about the streets now without passing young people who must be
under a deep delusion as to the success of their own toilette. Instead
of graceful and noble simplicity of form, instead of combinations
of color at once rich and delicate, because in accordance with the
chromatic laws of nature, one meets with phenomena more and more
painful to the eye, and startling to common sense, till one would be
hardly more astonished, and certainly hardly more shocked, if in a
year or two one should pass some one going about like a Chinese lady,
with pinched feet, or like a savage of the Amazons, with a wooden bung
through her lower lip. It is easy to complain of these monstrosities:
but impossible to cure them, it seems to me, without an education of
the taste, an education in those laws of nature which produce beauty in
form and beauty in color. For that cause of these failures lies in want
of education is patent. They are most common in—I had almost said they
are confined to—those classes of well-to-do persons who are the least
educated; who have no standard of taste of their own; and who do not
acquire any from cultivated friends and relations: who, in consequence,
dress themselves blindly according to what they conceive to be Paris
fashions, conveyed at third-hand through an equally uneducated
dressmaker; in innocent ignorance of the fact—for fact I believe it to
be—that Paris fashions are invented now not in the least for the sake
of beauty, but for the sake of producing, through variety, increased
expenditure, and thereby increased employment; according to the strange
system which now prevails in France of compelling, if not prosperity,
at least the signs of it; and like schoolboys before a holiday, nailing
up the head of the weather glass to insure fine weather.

Let the ladies educate themselves in those laws of beauty which are as
eternal as any other of nature’s laws; which may be seen fulfilled,
as Mr. Ruskin tells us, so eloquently in every flower and every leaf,
in sweeping down and rippling wave: and they will be able to invent
graceful and economical dresses for themselves, without importing
tawdry and expensive ugliness from France.

Let me now go a step further, and ask you to consider this.—There are
now a vast number, and an increasing number, of young women who, from
various circumstances which we all know, must in after life be either
the mistresses of their own fortunes, or the earners of their own
bread. And to do that wisely and well, they must be more or less women
of business; and to be women of business, they must know something of
the meaning of the words capital, profit, price, value, labor, wages,
and of the relations between those two last. In a word, they must know
a little political economy. Nay, I sometimes think that the mistress
of every household might find, not only thrift of money, but thrift of
brain; freedom from mistakes, anxieties, worries of many kinds, all
of which eat out the health as well as the heart, by a little sound
knowledge of the principles of political economy.

When we consider that every mistress of a household is continually
buying, if not selling; that she is continually hiring and employing
labor in the form of servants; and very often, into the bargain,
keeping her husband’s accounts: I cannot but think that her hard-worked
brain might be clearer, and her hard-tried desire to do her duty by
every subject in her little kingdom, might be more easily satisfied,
had she read something of what Mr. John Stuart Mill has written,
especially on the duties of employer and employed. A capitalist, a
commercialist, an employer of labor, and an accountant—every mistress
of a household is all these, whether she likes it or not; and it would
be surely well for her, in so very complicated a state of society as
this, not to trust merely to that mother-wit, that intuitive sagacity
and innate power of ruling her fellow-creatures, which carries women so
nobly through their work in simpler and less civilized societies.

And here I stop to answer those who may say—as I have heard it
said—that a woman’s intellect is not fit for business; that when a
woman takes to business, she is apt to do it ill, and unpleasantly
likewise: to be more suspicious, more irritable, more grasping, more
unreasonable, than regular men of business would be: that—as I have
heard it put—“a woman does not fight fair.” The answer is simple. That
a woman’s intellect is eminently fitted for business is proved by
the enormous amount of business she gets through without any special
training for it: but those faults in a woman of which some men complain
are simply the results of her not having had a special training. She
does not know the laws of business. She does not know the rules of
the game she is playing; and therefore she is playing it in the dark,
in fear and suspicion, apt to judge of questions on personal grounds,
often offending those with whom she has to do, and oftener still making
herself miserable over matters of law or of business, on which a little
sound knowledge would set her head and her heart at rest.

When I have seen widows, having the care of children, of a great
household, of great estate, of a great business, struggling heroically,
and yet often mistakenly; blamed severely for selfishness and ambition,
while they were really sacrificing themselves with the divine instinct
of a mother for their children’s interest: I have stood by with mingled
admiration and pity, and said to myself—“How nobly she is doing the
work without teaching! How much more nobly would she have done it had
she been taught! She is now doing the work at the most enormous waste
of energy and of virtue: had she had knowledge, thrift would have
followed it; she would have done more work with far less trouble. She
will probably kill herself if she goes on: sound knowledge would have
saved her health, saved her heart, saved her friends, and helped the
very loved ones for whom she labors, not always with success.”

A little political economy, therefore, will at least do no harm to a
woman; especially if she have to take care of herself in after life;
neither, I think, will she be much harmed by some sound knowledge of
another subject,—“Natural philosophy, in its various branches, such as
the chemistry of common life, light, heat, electricity, etc., etc.”

A little knowledge of the laws of light, for instance, would teach many
women that by shutting themselves up day after day, week after week,
in darkened rooms, they are as certainly committing a waste of health,
destroying their vital energy, and diseasing their brains, as if they
were taking so much poison the whole time.

For let me ask you, ladies, with all courtesy, but with all
earnestness—Are you aware of certain facts, of which every excellent
medical man is too well aware? Are you aware that more human beings are
killed every year by unnecessary and preventable diseases than were
killed at Waterloo or at Sadowa? Are you aware that the great majority
of those victims are children? Are you aware that the diseases which
carry them off are for the most part such as ought to be specially
under the control of the women who love them, pet them, educate
them, and would in many cases, if need be, lay down their lives for
them? Are you aware, again, of the vast amount of disease which, so
both wise mothers and wise doctors assure me, is engendered in the
sleeping-room from simple ignorance of the laws of ventilation, and
in the school-room likewise, from simple ignorance of the laws of
physiology? from an ignorance of which I shall mention no other case
here save one—that too often from ignorance of signs of approaching
disease, a child is punished for what is called idleness, listlessness,
wilfulness, sulkiness; and punished, too, in the unwisest way—by an
increase of tasks and confinement to the house, thus overtasking still
more a brain already overtasked, and depressing still more, by robbing
it of oxygen and of exercise, a system already depressed? Are you
aware, I ask again, of all this? I speak earnestly upon this point,
because I speak with experience. As a single instance: a medical man,
a friend of mine, passing by his own school-room, heard one of his
own little girls screaming and crying, and went in. The governess,
an excellent woman, but wholly ignorant of the laws of physiology,
complained that the child of late had become obstinate and would not
learn; and that therefore she must punish her by keeping her indoors
over the unlearned lessons. The father, who knew that the child was
usually very good, looked at her carefully for a little while; sent her
out of the schoolroom; and then said, “That child must not open a book
for a month.” “If I had not acted so,” he said to me, “I should have
had that child dead of brain disease within a year.”

Now, in the face of such facts as these, is it too much to ask of
mothers, sisters, aunts, nurses, governesses—all who may be occupied
in the care of children, especially of girls—that they should study
thrift of human health and human life, by studying somewhat the laws
of life and health? There are books—I may say a whole literature
of books—written by scientific doctors on these matters, which
are in my mind far more important to the schoolroom than half the
trashy accomplishments, so-called, which are expected to be known by
governesses. But are they bought? Are they even to be bought, from
most country booksellers? Ah, for a little knowledge of the laws to
the neglect of which is owing so much fearful disease, which if it
does not produce immediate death, too often leaves the constitution
impaired for years to come. Ah the waste of health and strength in the
young; the waste, too, of anxiety and misery in those who love and tend
them. How much of it might be saved by a little rational education in
those laws of nature which are the will of God about the welfare of our
bodies, and which, therefore, we are as much bound to know and to obey
as we are bound to know and obey the spiritual laws whereon depends the
welfare of our souls.

Pardon me, ladies, if I have given a moment’s pain to any one here: but
I appeal to every medical man in the room whether I have not spoken
the truth; and having such an opportunity as this, I felt that I must
speak for the sake of children, and of women likewise, or else for ever
hereafter hold my peace.

Let me pass on from this painful subject—for painful it has been to me
for many years—to a question of intellectual thrift—by which I mean
just now thrift of words; thrift of truth; restraint of the tongue;
accuracy and modesty in statement.

Mothers complain to me that girls are apt to be—not intentionally
untruthful—but exaggerative, prejudiced, incorrect, in repeating a
conversation or describing an event; and that from this fault arise,
as is to be expected, misunderstandings, quarrels, rumors, slanders,
scandals, and what not.

Now, for this waste of words there is but one cure; and if I be told
that it is a natural fault of women; that they cannot take the calm
judicial view of matters which men boast, and often boast most wrongly,
that they can take; that under the influence of hope, fear, delicate
antipathy, honest moral indignation, they will let their eyes and ears
be governed by their feelings; and see and hear only what they wish to
see and hear: I answer, that it is not for me as a man to start such a
theory; but that if it be true, it is an additional argument for some
education which will correct this supposed natural defect. And I say
deliberately that there is but one sort of education which will correct
it, one which will teach young women to observe facts accurately, judge
them calmly and describe them carefully, without adding or distorting:
and that is, some training in natural science.

I beg you not to be startled: but if you are, then test the truth of
my theory by playing to-night at the game called “Russian Scandal;” in
which a story, repeated in secret by one player to the other, comes
out at the end of the game, owing to the inaccurate and—forgive me if
I say it—uneducated brains through which it has passed, utterly unlike
its original; not only ludicrously maimed and distorted, but often
with the most fantastic addition of events, details, names, dates,
places, which each player will aver he received from the player before
him. I am afraid that too much of the average gossip of every city,
town and village is little more than a game of “Russian Scandal;” with
this difference, that while one is but a game, the other is but too
mischievous earnest.

But now, if among your party there shall be an average lawyer, medical
man, or man of science, you will find that he, and perhaps he alone,
will be able to retail accurately the story which has been told him.
And why? Simply because his mind has been trained to deal with facts;
to ascertain exactly what he does see or hear, and to imprint its
leading features strongly and clearly on his memory.

I could say much on this point: allow me at least to say this: I verily
believe that any young lady who would employ some of her leisure time
in collecting wild flowers, carefully examining them, verifying them,
and arranging them; or who would in her summer trip to the sea-coast
do the same by the common objects of the shore, instead of wasting
her holiday, as one sees hundreds doing, in lounging on benches on
the esplanade, reading worthless novels, and criticising dresses—that
such a young lady, I say, would not only open her own mind to a world
of wonder, beauty, and wisdom, which, if it did not make her a more
reverent and pious soul, she can not be the woman which I take her for
granted she is; but would save herself from the habit—I had almost said
the necessity—of gossip; because she would have things to think of and
not merely persons; facts instead of fancies; while she would acquire
something of accuracy, of patience, of methodical observation and
judgment, which would stand her in good stead in the events of daily
life and increase her power of bridling her tongue and her imagination.
“God is in heaven, and thou upon earth; therefore let thy words be
few;” is the lesson which those are learning all day long who study the
works of God with reverent accuracy, lest by misrepresenting them they
should be tempted to say that God has done that which He has not; and
in that wholesome discipline I long that women as well as men should
share.

And now I come to a thrift of the highest kind, as contrasted with a
waste the most deplorable and ruinous of all; thrift of those faculties
which connect us with the unseen and spiritual world; with humanity,
with Christ, with God; thrift of the immortal spirit. I am not going
now to give you a sermon on duty. You hear such, I doubt not, in church
every Sunday, far better than I can preach to you. I am going to speak
rather of thrift of the heart, thrift of the emotions. How they are
wasted in these days in reading what are called sensation novels, all
know but too well; how good literature—all that the best hearts and
intellects among our forefathers have bequeathed to us—is neglected for
light fiction, the reading of which is, as a lady well said, “the worst
form of intemperance—dram-drinking and opium-eating, intellectual and
moral.”

I know that the young will delight—they have delighted in all ages,
and will to the end of time—in fictions which deal with that “oldest
tale which is forever new.” Novels will be read: but that is all the
more reason why women should be trained, by the perusal of a higher,
broader, deeper literature, to distinguish the good novel from the bad,
the moral from the immoral, the noble from the base, the true work of
art from the sham which hides its shallowness and vulgarity under a
tangled plot and melodramatic situations. She should learn—and that she
can only learn by cultivation—to discern with joy, and drink in with
reverence, the good, the beautiful, and the true; and to turn with the
fine scorn of a pure and strong womanhood from the bad, the ugly, and
the false.

And if any parent should be inclined to reply—“Why lay so much stress
upon educating a girl in good literature? Is it not far more important
to make our daughters read religious books?” I answer—of course it is.
I take for granted that that is done in a Christian land. But I beg you
to recollect that there are books and books; and that in these days
of a free press it is impossible, in the long run, to prevent girls
reading books of very different shades of opinion, and very different
religious worth. It may be, therefore, of the very highest importance
to a girl to have her intellect, her taste, her emotions, her moral
sense, in a word, her whole womanhood, so cultivated and regulated
that she shall herself be able to discern the true from the false,
the orthodox from the unorthodox, the truly devout from the merely
sentimental, the gospel from its counterfeits.

I should have thought that there never had been since the Reformation,
a crisis at which young women required more careful cultivation on
these matters; if at least they are to be saved from making themselves
and their families miserable; and from ending—as I have known too many
end—with broken hearts, broken brains, broken health, and an early
grave.

Take warning by what you see abroad. In every country where the
women are uneducated, unoccupied; where their only literature is
French novels or translations of them—in every one of those countries
the women, even to the highest, are the slaves of superstition,
and the puppets of priests. In proportion as, in certain other
countries—notably, I will say, in Scotland—the women are highly
educated, family life and family secrets are sacred, and the woman owns
allegiance and devotion to no confessor or director, but to her own
husband or to her own family.

I say plainly, that if any parents wish their daughters to succumb
at last to some quackery or superstition, whether calling itself
scientific, or calling itself religious—and there are too many of both
just now—they can not more certainly effect their purpose than by
allowing her to grow up ignorant, frivolous, luxurious, vain; with her
emotions excited, but not satisfied, by the reading of foolish and even
immoral novels.

In such a case the more delicate and graceful the organization, the
more noble and earnest the nature, which has been neglected, the more
certain it is—I know too well what I am saying—to go astray.

The time of depression, disappointment, vacuity, all but despair, must
come. The immortal spirit, finding no healthy satisfaction for its
highest aspirations, is but too likely to betake itself to an unhealthy
and exciting superstition. Ashamed of its own long self-indulgence, it
is but too likely to flee from itself into a morbid asceticism. Not
having been taught its God-given and natural duties in the world, it
is but too likely to betake itself, from the mere craving for action,
to self-invented and unnatural duties out of the world. Ignorant of
true science, yet craving to understand the wonders of nature and of
spirit, it is but too likely to betake itself to non-science—nonsense
as it is usually called—whether of spirit-rapping and mesmerism, or
miraculous relics and winking pictures. Longing for guidance and
teaching, and never having been taught to guide and teach itself, it
is but too likely to deliver itself up in self-despair to the guidance
and teaching of those who, whether they be quacks or fanatics, look on
uneducated women as their natural prey.

One word more, and I have done. Let me ask women to educate themselves,
not for their own sakes merely, but for the sake of others. For whether
they will or not, they must educate others. I do not speak merely of
those who may be engaged in the work of direct teaching; that they
ought to be well taught themselves, who can doubt? I speak of those—and
in so doing I speak of every woman, young and old—who exercises as
wife, as mother, as aunt, as sister, or as friend, an influence,
indirect it may be, and unconscious, but still potent and practical, on
the minds and characters of those about them, especially of men. How
potent and practical that influence is, those know best who know most
of the world and most of human nature. There are those who consider—and
I agree with them—that the education of boys under twelve years ought
to be entrusted as much as possible to women. Let me ask—of what period
of youth and manhood does not the same hold true? I pity the ignorance
and conceit of the man who fancies that he has nothing left to learn
from cultivated women.

Surely that is woman’s calling—to teach man: and to teach him what? To
teach him, after all, that his calling is the same as hers, if he will
but see the things which belong to his peace. To temper his fiercer,
coarser, more self-assertive nature, by the contact of her gentleness,
purity, self-sacrifice. To make him see that not by blare of trumpets,
not by noise, wrath, greed, ambition, intrigue, puffery, is good and
lasting work to be done on earth: but by wise self-distrust, by silent
labor, by lofty self-control, by that charity which hopeth all things,
believeth all things, endureth all things; by such an example, in
short, as women now in tens of thousands set to those around them;
such as they will show more and more, the more their whole womanhood
is educated to employ its powers without waste and without haste in
harmonious unity. Let the woman begin in girlhood, if such be her happy
lot—to quote the words of a great poet, a great philosopher, and a
great Churchman, William Wordsworth—let her begin, I say—

    “With all things round about her drawn
     From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
     A dancing shape, an image gay,
     To haunt, to startle, and waylay.”

Let her develop onwards—

    “A spirit, yet a woman too,
     With household motions light and free,
     And steps of virgin liberty.
     A countenance in which shall meet
     Sweet records, promises as sweet;
     A creature not too bright and good
     For human nature’s daily food;
     For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
     Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.”

But let her highest and her final development be that which not nature,
but self-education alone can bring—that which makes her once and
forever—

    “A being breathing thoughtful breath;
     A traveler betwixt life and death.
     With reason firm with temperate will,
     Endurance, foresight, strength and skill.
     A perfect woman, nobly planned,
     To warn, to comfort and command.
     And yet a spirit still and bright
     With something of an angel light.”

C. L. S. C. WORK.

By J. H. VINCENT, D. D., SUPERINTENDENT OF INSTRUCTION, C. L. S. C.

The Sunday Readings of the January and February numbers constitute the
“required” reading on “Bible and Religious History and Literature.” If
now and then you consider the selections “a little too long,” read them
carefully for your profit.

On the Sabbaths of January and February we read outlines of Bible
History principally from the abridgement by Dr. Collier. It will be
well (although it is not required) also to read and study the outline
lessons in the History of the Bible and in Bible History, as given in
Chautauqua Text-Book No. 36, “Assembly Bible Outlines,” pages 7-37.
Price of Chautauqua Text-Book No. 36, only ten cents.

The people who most need the ministry of the C. L. S. C. are not
likely to take it up at first, and therefore those who appreciate its
advantages should seek out persons likely to be profited by it. Think
over your list of acquaintances, rich and poor, people of wealth and
people engrossed with business or domestic care. Go with personal
explanations and appeals and induce them to join the Circle, or to take
up some part of its work, the reading of one book, or the reading of a
special course, like the Bryant or the Shakspere course.

I want to call your attention to a valuable book for every student’s
table—“Roget’s Thesaurus.” It enables one to find a whole family of
words by knowing one of them. The classification is well nigh perfect.
Phrases, as well as words, are included in the list. For example, look
into the index for the word “circle.” Your attention is called at once
to paragraph 181, which gives synonymous words of circle, as defining
a “region:” sphere, ground, soil, area, realm, hemisphere, quarter,
district, beat, orb, circuit, circle; pale; compartment, department;
domain, tract, territory, country, canton, county, shire, province,
_arrondissement_, parish, township, _commune_, ward, wapentake,
hundred, riding; principality, duchy, kingdom, etc. Or we turn to
the word circle, as “form,” in paragraph 247, where we have: circle,
circlet, ring, areola, hoop, roundlet, _annulus_, annulet, bracelet,
armlet; ringlet; eye, loop, wheel; cycle, orb, orbit, rundle, zone,
belt, _cordon_, band; sash, girdle, cestus, cincture, baldric, fillet,
_fascia_, wreath, garland; crown, corona, coronet, chaplet, snood,
necklace, collar; noose, lasso. Or take the word circle as a “party,”
paragraph 712, where we find: party, side, faction, denomination,
communion, set, crew, band, horde, posse, phalanx; family, clan, etc.,
etc.; community, body, fellowship, sodality, solidarity; confraternity;
brotherhood, sisterhood, etc., etc., and so on through one thousand
paragraphs, filling 429 pages, and then followed by a four-columned
index on each page for 271 more pages. The book is indeed a treasury of
the English language. Price, sent to members of the C. L. S. C., $1.60.

The Cincinnati local circle has great enterprise. It announces a
third annual course of free lectures for the coming winter. Our
correspondent, Miss Eleanor C. O’Connell, writes: “We are now planning
for the organization of a branch ‘Society of the Hall in the Grove,’
for, besides having an alumnal meeting, it is our desire that next
year, and each succeeding one, the older graduates shall give in
October a reception to the last graduating class, and thus, by
welcoming them into this fraternity, help keep up their interest in the
Circle. I hope that when you come we will have a good report to make
concerning ’82 welcoming those of this year.”

Have you put our “university property” in order? Have you a cozy corner
in your house belonging to the C. L. S. C.? Is the “dormitory” well
ventilated? Is the food in the “refectory” healthful? Are the “hours of
reading” regularly observed?

Such words as these are refreshing: “Though only a two-year-old
Chautauquan, I feel that these two years have been richer and more
valuable to me than twice their number before. They have indeed changed
the whole tenor of my life. Next year I expect to attend Michigan
University as a result of the work of the C. L. S. C. I feel that
whatever may be the degree of usefulness which I hope to reach, it will
be owing to the inspiration received from my present course of reading.”

While members of the C. L. S. C. should read the whole series of books
prescribed, each member _should select one book to which he is to give
especial attention_. The others are books for outlook; this is a book
for mental discipline. He must master it, drill himself on it, study it
critically, doing with it what, if he had the time, he would do with
every book of the course.

As far as practicable, follow the prescribed order of the reading,
taking up each month the work prescribed for that month. There is no
law of the Medes and Persians about it, but the work will be very much
more satisfactorily done where this rule is observed. It is always
easier to make reports, and fill out the memoranda, etc., when the work
is performed in the prescribed order.

I suggest to all students the value of much conversation and council in
the departments of study. Is there not some teacher or other specialist
in your community who would be glad occasionally to give you helpful
hints in history, or other branch of study? Is there not, for example,
some one who takes a special interest in geology, and who, during the
months devoted to this study, would be glad to guide you to a more
practical knowledge than you can get from mere books? Learn to utilize
the talent of your community. Ask questions. Do not be ashamed to
betray ignorance. State your opinions. What if you make a mistake? You
will not be likely to make it a second time. The introduction into your
life of casual conversations on useful subjects will give both strength
and dignity to your life. Watch therefore the people of your community;
pick out those who know and can help. Get help out of them. They will
delight to serve you, and the service will do both them and you great
good.

It matters little whether a man be mathematically, or philologically,
or artistically cultivated, so that he be cultivated.—_Goethe._

Members of the C. L. S. C., in addressing the Plainfield office,
are requested to give complete addresses, town, county, state, and
also the class to which they belong. This will prevent the necessity
of referring to the records before the letters can be answered.
Secretaries of local circles in cities, in sending to the office,
should always give the street address of each member to whom a fee is
to be credited.

The filling up of the blank pages in Dr. Wilkinson’s Preparatory Greek
Course in English, while earnestly recommended, _is not required_.

By a mistake, the Little Classical Dictionary, published by J. B.
Putnam’s Sons, New York City, was announced at thirty cents, by mail.
The price is forty cents. Let all students take note of this.

Our friend, Miss Myrtie C. Hudson, from California, a graduate of the
Class of 1882, has entered Michigan University, at Ann Arbor. She
reports meetings of the students’ association. She says: “On Sunday
morning the hall was filled for the opening prayer-meeting, and there
was manifested a working Christian spirit which surprised and delighted
me. I believe one can grow in grace in such a school. The crucial test
of character will there be developed. The five o’clock quiet hour on
Sabbath afternoon is growing very dear to me. That beautiful suggestion
is one of the many things for which I can never thank you enough. If
the hours help all the members as they do me, they are no doubt a power
in the Circle. I am already looking forward to that time as the best in
all the week. A portion of the time I spend in preparing Bible readings
on themes suggested at Chautauqua, beginning with ‘God in Nature,’ with
Romans i: 19, 20 for the key. I shall always look lovingly back to the
weeks I spent at Chautauqua. They were wonderful weeks, and I lived
more in them than in as many years before.”

There is strong temptation to take substitutes for the regular
books. You have a great cyclopædia, and prefer to read articles on
the appointed subject rather than to take up the book required. Or,
you have some other history, or other scientific treatise. In order
to economize, I have allowed substitutes. Comparatively few of our
students have used them. It is much more pleasant for all members of
the C. L. S. C. to travel one way. The sympathy of the members is
increased by such unity. The reading of Green’s “Short History of the
English People,” and Merrivale’s “Rome,” bound together by very strong
cords the members of the Circle. While there may be other valuable
books, we think that the “required” books are the best, and we desire
our members as far as practicable to use them.

Edward A. Spring, sculptor, who has charge of the clay-modeling
department, at Chautauqua, lingered for several weeks after the close
of the Assembly the past season. He studied the old trees in St. Paul’s
Grove, measuring them carefully, and also numbered them. He finds
twelve maples, five beeches, one butternut, and one hemlock. “The
largest maple, No. 6,” he says, “is nearly eight feet in circumference.
It stands in front of the Hall. A butternut, No. 8, is a grand old
tree, and full of nuts this year; but it leans very much toward the
hemlock, and can hardly last long without some skillful forestry work.
All the trees, except Nos. 2 and 9, are too large to reach around with
my arms. No. 13 is one of the finest trees on the whole grounds—a very
symmetrical tulip on the west side of Cookman Avenue.” He adds, “I had
been all about the Grove many times, but now that I have held each one
of these giants of the old forest clasped in my arms, I feel toward
each as if I had said farewell to a dear friend. For five Sundays
the setting sun has lighted a little band of friends in the Hall of
Philosophy—five little gatherings, where a lovely spirit prevailed,
and I think all there present will long remember it. Dr. Eaton and
Mr. Martin have led the service, which took the form of devotional
expression,

    ‘A song of service, of faith, of praise;’

with frequent allusions to our book-mates of the great Circle at whose
center we were met. Several times each one in turn repeated a verse of
Scripture; and, day before yesterday, upon closing, we joined hands and
closed the circle, repeating in concert the three mottoes of the C. L.
S. C. Now, I started out to tell you of these meetings with an express
purpose, namely, to urge the desirableness of securing a sunset belt
from the Hall of Philosophy, so that no intervening structures shall
cut off this glorifying of the maples at the hour of the Round-Table,
and other favored and favorite gatherings.

C. L. S. C. TESTIMONY.

It is impossible for those who have low, mean, and groveling ideas,
and who have spent their lives in mercenary employments, to produce
anything worthy of admiration, or to be a possession for all times.
Grand and dignified expressions must be looked for from those whose
thoughts are ever employed on glorious and noble objects.—_Longinus._

_New England._—I am astonished at the wonderful system and workings of
the C. L. S. C. It seems to me that this must be one of the most active
agents for good extant, and its origination ought surely to be counted
among the most progressive educational forces of the day. It was with
some doubts and considerable apathy that I sent my name for enrollment
among the students of the Circle, but I am now an enthusiast.

_Massachusetts (Williamstown)._—One year ago I began the Chautauqua
course in connection with my regular college duties. While for me, a
great part of the work was a review, I found that it served to clinch
and make fast my previous knowledge of the subjects taken up, and also
gave me much information that was new and not to be obtained in my
college course. I have just entered on my senior year, and although I
am very busy, I shall keep up my C. L. S. C. work, believing that any
time I can take to devote to that, will be spent to the best possible
advantage. To one who has the advantages of a college education the
C. L. S. C. course furnishes a valuable auxiliary and material aid,
while to those denied this advantage, it furnishes a means of education
surely second to none, save perhaps the few best colleges. My purpose
is to graduate and then to pursue some of the extra courses as I have
time. With best wishes for the success of the “People’s College,” and
of every true Chautauquan, I am yours, respectfully, etc.

_Massachusetts._—I have nearly all of last year’s books to read up, but
I am not one bit discouraged. I am behind from various causes; with a
large family and many cares, and a great deal of church and temperance
work, and foreign mission work to do, and a house full of company
all last year, it kept me behind. But this year I shall make up and
graduate in ’84, all in good time.

_Maine._—I am a poor farmer’s daughter, and motherless. I have wished
very much to go to some good school and graduate, but I am an only
daughter and therefore must be my father’s housekeeper, and you cannot
tell how glad I was to learn of the C. L. S. C. I shall try to complete
the reading and study for this year if possible.

_Vermont._—We are two years behind the class of ’83, but hope to be
able to catch up and finish with that class. We are not discouraged,
though laboring under difficulties. I shall never cease to be grateful
for the C. L. S. C., which is giving pleasure and profit to so many
thousands.

_New York._—I have been for years a confirmed invalid, never leaving
my room unless carried out, and unable to sit even in a reclining
chair, but a short time. During these long, weary years, reading, and
listening to reading, has been the one great pleasure left me. Having
my attention directed, a few months since, to the list of required
readings for the C. L. S. C., the thought presented itself to me that,
in place of desultory reading, I might substitute a regular course, as
I think there are but few days pass when I do not read at least forty
minutes, still I dare not pledge myself to even that length of time
regularly, and can only promise to do the best I can.

_Illinois._—For six weeks I have been very sick. Through it all I have
continued my reading. Of how much value the past year’s reading has
been to me it would be impossible to tell. But there are books in the
library that have never been opened by me before, thinking they were
too deep or dry until the beautiful “Mosaics,” printed in that valuable
paper, “THE CHAUTAUQUAN,” touched the spring of curiosity and sent me
searching through them from lid to lid.

A member writes: Five years ago I walked into an unguarded opening
in the sidewalk and fell ten or twelve feet, causing spinal trouble,
since which time I have not been able to ride or walk, until within the
past year. I walk around my room some, and hope to entirely recover. I
suppose I simply should have said, “I am an invalid,” but I don’t like
the word, for I do try to make myself useful. I have a little private
C. L. S. C. school in my room mornings, and find plenty to occupy my
time.

_New York._—A mother, whose daughter (also a member of the class of
’82) died last year, writes: “The diploma is a gem, weighted with
meaning in the illustrations; and now I only regret that I was not more
interested in the diploma, and had it on regular parchment. My husband
was pleased with it, and wished me to have it framed and hung beside
my son’s and daughter’s—the one from Harvard, the other from Fort
Edward Institute. My son, who is an enthusiastic educator, sent his
congratulations, saying: ‘Not many have received a diploma after being
fifty-five years of age.’ But what afforded us all increased pleasure
was the mistake of one of the initials, my own name being C. W. C.,
and my daughter’s being C. M. C. The name in the diploma is Mrs. C. M.
C., so like the blending of our tastes and life pursuits. My son says:
‘The error of initials has increased the value of the diploma;’ and all
of us so consider it. Well, she had commenced on the fourth year, and
with quivering lip expressed a hope that she should live to finish the
course. To her belongs the merit of inspiring her mother and others in
this place, and her influence will continue. How appropriate that she
shares in the diploma that I doubly value for her sake!”

Miss Norton, secretary of the Pacific Coast Branch of the C. L. S. C.,
writes: “The outlook for the coming year seems very hopeful thus far,
in our office work, especially in the letters from the outlying States
and Territories. The seed sown last year seems to be bearing good
fruit.”

_New Mexico._—From Las Vegas, New Mexico, there comes this message: I
am a member of the C. L. S. C.; marched with the circle at Rome City
last summer; was at the banquet and camp-fire, and heard Dr. Vincent
lecture before the circle. I would like to organize a circle in New
Mexico; send me papers and all the help you can for the work.

_Indian Territory._—From the Wa-la-ka Creek nation, Indian Territory, a
writer says: “We have a family of one hundred and twenty Indian youth
and teachers. Can we become members of the C. L. S. C.?” The answer is,
Yes. Thus the work is spreading into every State and Territory, and
into many foreign nations.

_California._—With my three little children and quite an extensive
poultry business to look after, I have very few idle moments. Hence
my failure to keep up with my class was unavoidable. I have enjoyed
the course of reading more than I can express, though I am not at all
satisfied with my year’s work. It troubles me sometimes to remember
what I have read. I am very anxious to take up the Greek course. I have
been trying to get some of my neighbors interested in the C. L. S. C.,
but do not succeed, so I am plodding on alone. I think you are doing
a noble work, and the end is not yet. I will close in the language of
Tiny Tim, “God bless us every one.”

_West Virginia._—How much we have enjoyed the course of reading! We
really did not study: had time only to go over once. One would read
aloud, while the other sewed; and we would not take anything for what
we learned. Mother would often ask, “Well, how much do you remember
of all you read?” I often thought it was like the Centennial—we were
there a week. Of course we can’t remember half we saw, and yet we have
a pretty good idea of what was there, and what we saw; enough to make
it a pleasure and a profit to think of. And so about the books we
read. Perhaps we couldn’t answer one question in ten you’d ask us in
Roman history, and yet we have a distinct idea of the way the people
lived, of the characters of Julius Cæsar, Sulla, Nero, etc. We have a
beautiful cat named Pericles, who was a kitten when we were reading
history of Greece; and we had one named Antonius when reading Roman
history, but he wasn’t nice, and we gave him away.

_Illinois._—An Illinois miss writes: I am running all to music, and
found some time ago that my thoughts were altogether too narrow for
the music, and if I can branch out more, get new thoughts, and strange
ones, I can stand up straighter in other ways. This is a great, strong,
rough world, and it takes a strong heart and lots of courage. I am only
a girl.

_Maryland._—One of the most charming domestic scenes is reported to us
from the “Bird’s Nest,” in Maryland, where there are several members
of the Circle. A good woman, who is the light of the house, writes:
There have been days when I could not study at all, but the shells
that I was able to gather as I stood on the shore, helped me to listen
to the waves as they came in from the other side of the great sea of
knowledge, from away back before the coming of Christ. And I have
learned that there is no god like our God, for he knoweth that we
have need of this mind-furnishing. I feel sure that the C. L. S. C.
has come to be one of the corner-stones in our home. Jesus Christ, I
hope, is the chief corner-stone. Does not our Bible tell us that “every
wise woman buildeth her house?” Does she wish to know how? “Through
wisdom is a house builded, and by understanding is it established,
and by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and
pleasant riches.” I pray God that every mother may belong to the C. L.
S. C. When I began my studies in October last, I soon felt I wanted
my husband to study with me. Thus far in our married life we had
always gone hand in hand together. I felt almost as if we were being
separated. I did not urge the matter, because I saw that he felt that
for me it would be impracticable. The more I studied, the more I felt
it was right for me to keep on; that I could help them all in the home
better by so doing. Last evening, after reading the CHAUTAUQUA HERALD
(we have taken it all through the course this summer), my husband laid
down the paper and said: “My dear, I am going to join this Circle;
and Nellie (turning to our daughter), you must join it, too, and we
will all help each other in the home.” All my heart went out to God in
thankfulness. * * * Last Sabbath was my birthday, and my two nieces
and daughter told me on Saturday evening that I must not go into
the dining-room Sabbath morning until the bell rang for breakfast.
Accordingly, when the bell sounded, my husband escorted me to the
dining-room. The table was beautiful with its linen, its basket of
pears, peaches, and grapes in the center, and the lovely saucer bouquet
at my plate. Just beside my chair was a flower stand that father had
made for me, and each shelf was laden with presents for me from the
dear ones, not excepting my honored, faithful, colored servant. In the
bay-window were the words, “Happy Birthday,” in phantom letters. When
we were seated at the table, my husband asked a blessing. Each of us
then recited a verse of Scripture, as is our usual custom. Just then my
father handed my husband a paper, which he opened and read. It was a
sweet little poem which he had written, closing with the words:

    “In sooth no works of sophistry
       Their homage will dispute;
     We greet her now most cordially,
       With the G. L. S. C. salute.”

I think I never had anything move me so. I just bowed any head and
thanked my Heavenly Father.

_Ohio._—Since I began to study in the C. L. S. C., I have spent
a summer in England and Scotland. Thanks to you and Green, I was
thoroughly steeped in English history and literature, which made every
place alive with interest. At Oxford did we not wander along the lovely
Isis where Addison loved to walk, to ponder, and study? and did we not
revel in a mild way under the solemn shade of the venerable trees,
and gaze with intense interest at the manuscripts and books of the
Bodleian Library? and did we not hear Gray’s Elegy in that very country
churchyard? Then, too, we made a pilgrimage to Canterbury,

    “The holy blisful martir for to seeke.”

There were six of us, and we were all of one mind. We crossed the
border and made a short tour through Scotland, which included a visit
to unfrequented Ayr,

    “Auld Ayr, whom ne’er a town surpasses
     For honest men and bonnie lasses;”

and to Kirk Alloway, where poor Tam saw such a bewitching sight. The
last weeks of the summer were spent in the English lake district, and
long shall I remember the wonderful pictures seen from our windows
at Keswick: mountains blue and hazy, and again with wreaths of vapor
creeping up the sides and capping the summits, or perhaps clouds
hanging in pillowy masses over them; and there in the sunlight was
the Greta, rippling waves and leaping just as it enchanted Southey,
and if I had not known about him, it would have been nothing to me.
If there is a paradise upon earth, it must be at Grasmere and Rydyl,
sacred with the memory of Wordsworth. There is nothing to disturb the
serene, charming place. We sat by the clear, noisy Rothay, and wandered
through Grasmere churchyard, where Wordsworth is buried. Dorothy lies
beside him. The clergyman intoned the evening service in the church as
if it were a tedious affair, and we were glad to be through with it.
Maybe he did not think it worth while to be slow and solemn, as there
were only five worshippers. May it be your good fortune some day to
see the old creature known as guide to the principal fall of Rydyl.
As she painfully hobbled along on her cane, she grew quite garrulous
over her recollections of the past. H. asked her whether she ever
read his poems. “Seeing him and knowing him,” said she, “is a better
memory than reading his poetry.” To the C. L. S. C. is due much of the
pleasure of the summer. Through the C. L. S. C. I received the first
impulse to study systematically at home; and it is my desire to have
my gratitude take a substantial form. I remember the scholarships you
referred to that Commencement Day. Inclosed you will find ten dollars,
which is my contribution for such a scholarship. It is my way to make
acknowledgment of what the C. L. S. C has done for me.

_Ohio._—The Madison Chautauqua Circle lost a valued member, by the
death of Mary E. Galpin, on October 8, 1882. In the summer of 1878 she
visited Lake Chautauqua. Having intellectual tastes, she soon became
interested in the founding of the “People’s College.” On her return
home, in her quiet and unobtrusive way, she endeavored to enlarge the
Chautauqua Circle by awakening an interest among her young friends. In
the summer of 1880 she visited Chautauqua, and enjoyed the Round-Table
talks within the shade of the “Hall in the Grove,” and while watching
the first C. L. S. C. camp-fire, Mary’s zeal and enthusiasm seemed
to kindle anew. Those who have been closely associated with her know
of her unabated interest, and somewhat of the disappointment she
experienced in not being able to realize her long-cherished hope
of being at Chautauqua on that memorable Commencement Day. In the
providence of God she was prevented from passing under the triumphal
arches at Chautauqua, but she was greatly gratified when she received
her diploma, and expressed her determination to secure the white seal.
“But it is not for man to direct his steps.” A few weeks after, wearing
the white rose of a pure life unfolded by all-sufficient grace, and
upheld by filial devotion, without a murmur, with a smile on her face,
she passed through the golden gate into the heavenly city.

LOCAL CIRCLES.

[We request the president or secretary of every local circle to send
us reports of their work, of lectures, concerts, entertainments, etc.
Editor of THE CHAUTAUQUAN, Meadville, Pa.]

    There are a thousand nameless ties,
      Which only such as feel them know;
    Of kindred thoughts, deep sympathies,
      And untold fancy spells, which throw
    O’er ardent minds and faithful hearts
      A chain whose charmed links so blend,
    That the light circlet but imparts
      Its force in these fond words, My friend.
                             —_Mrs. Dinnies._

The friendships formed through the agency of the C. L. S. C. ripen with
age, and in ten thousand instances the work creates strong bonds of
union between fellow-students. The local circle is a favorite place for
members of the C. L. S. C. who are searching for knowledge and truth.
Love for the pursuit of knowledge will inspire its possessor to seek
out kindred spirits, to band themselves together, and organize for
work. We furnish our readers, in the following reports, with a glimpse
into a number of local circles. Here we find variety in the methods for
conducting the work, and unity in the aim of all C. L. S. C. students.
A carefully prepared paper from the secretary of every local circle
concerning your work, and the method of doing it, is solicited by us
for the help it may be to other circles. Use this department of THE
CHAUTAUQUAN (it is your magazine) for an interchange of plans and
opinions concerning your work in your local organizations. [EDITOR THE
CHAUTAUQUAN.]

Berlin, Pennsylvania, is located in a beautiful valley, twenty-five
miles north of Cumberland, and only a few miles from the top of the
Alleghenies. The town is old, not very enterprising, but favored with a
moral and intelligent population. We organized our circle in the latter
part of October and commenced our reading November 1st. Our membership
numbers twenty-two. We have elected a librarian, hoping soon to need
one. We do not appoint a leader for the circle, but a conductor for
each department of work—one for geology, another for Greek history,
etc. Having a number of professional men in our circle, such as
doctors, ministers and teachers, we propose a division of labor, and
thus we shall do more thorough work. We will have one regular meeting
each month, and as many special meetings as we shall find profitable.
Memorial days will come under the head of special meetings. The C. L.
S. C. idea is almost a stranger to the people of this town, but we hope
soon to make for it many acquaintances and friends.

_New Albany, Indiana._—Our meetings are very informal. While assembling
a running conversation is kept up on the work done, and to be done. We
have no special formality about opening or closing, but pass easily
from the general conversation to the special work of the evening. So
far this has consisted chiefly of a discussion of geology, aided by
the diagrams. Considerable interest has been awakened on this subject.
Usually we have had one or more essays at each meeting, but have had
none yet this year. The questions for further study will hereafter
form a part of the evening’s work. We meet every two weeks on Monday
night, from house to house. There are two circles here, one of ladies,
who meet on Friday afternoon, and ours, of both sexes. We have also a
general organization. A number of the other circle always meet with
us. The Pioneer Circle is composed almost entirely of teachers in the
public schools, and they must catch time when they can, but they are
enthusiastic workers.

_Johnstown, N. Y._—Our method of conducting C. L. S. C. work is this:
At each meeting, after the program of the previous meeting has been
carried out, the leader requests one or two members to prepare essays
on a certain part of the work, one or two members to bring a stated
number of questions on a certain subject, another member to read a
short article from THE CHAUTAUQUAN. Very often the leader asks for the
opinion of various members of a character or an article met with in
the reading. At our last meeting the circle authorized the secretary
to appoint at each meeting—which occurs each alternate week—a critic,
also what might be called an orthoëpist. We cannot inform you as to the
benefit to be derived from this feature of our circle, as it is new to
us.

_Quincy, Michigan._—Were mine a thousand voices; yea, the voice of
every Chautauquan who regards system and order, who enjoys the pleasure
and strength there is in feeling they are each day and week going on
with a large band of faithful Chautauquans, I would say please go on
in the good old way of dividing the lessons of the month into weekly
installments. It is a real help to have the week’s work laid out for us
in THE CHAUTAUQUAN. It greatly facilitates the labor of the leader of
the local circle. Our local circle, which numbered about ten members
last year, has started out “boomingly” this year with about twenty,
and the prospect is good for still widening the circle. We have weekly
meetings. One, a most enthusiastic member, comes five and a-half miles
to attend the meetings. Our president is a minister. He and his worthy
wife take an active part in the work. We also have the principal and
preceptress of our public schools among our active members. After a
general history and geology lesson we have essays on the subject of the
evening from the older members, that are inspiring to the younger ones.

The Northfield, Connecticut, local circle is situate in the old
“Mountain County,” Litchfield, where rocks are convenient for
geological study, and the pure atmosphere favors astronomical
observations. It numbers nine members, six of whom are regular members
of the C. L. S. C. All are young people, and six are, or have been,
school teachers. Inasmuch as it is a new organization, with its method
of work tentative and liable to change, or displacement, on further
trial, its plan is only given because it may have a suggestion for
those who would not adopt it exactly. The circle meets fortnightly,
and on Friday evenings, so all the teachers can be present. Topics,
from the required reading, are assigned in advance, and by lot. Then
each member is responsible for his or her topic, but he is allowed to
present it at the next meeting in the form of an essay, lecture, or
recitation, or he may come prepared to be questioned upon it by the
committee of instruction and the class generally. Thus far the plan
works well, stimulating thorough preparation on the part of all, and
furnishing all the work the circle can well do in an evening. Any
considerable increase of members would of course make some modification
of our method necessary, and the reports of other circles in THE
CHAUTAUQUAN may reveal something so much better that we may abandon our
experimental ways entirely. We send greeting to the whole C. L. S. C.

_Gilroy, California._—We organized in 1879 and ’80 a local circle with
about twenty-five members. In the study of history, besides the regular
lesson, some of the members were appointed to read selections, and
others to write short sketches of principal characters whose names are
found in our lessons. The selections were mostly poems from Macaulay’s
Lays of Ancient Rome and Tennyson’s King Arthur. In the study of
biology, geology, etc., questions were distributed to the class on
slips of paper by a committee appointed by the chair at the previous
meeting. The questions and answers were read at the next meeting.
Sometimes topics or subjects were given; the general divisions of the
vegetable kingdom, glacial formation, the orders of Greek and Roman
architecture, etc. Last year we were favored by having Prof. Norton,
of the State Normal School, for one of our leaders. In the study of
art we had the benefit of stereoscopic views exhibited by the aid of a
magic lantern, of the ancient ruins and public buildings, and scenes
of interest in Egypt, Greece, and Italy. In the study of geology
and chemistry, the Professor gave us illustrative diagrams on the
blackboard, and chemical experiments illustrating volcanic action, and
various other phenomena resulting from scientific investigation. This
year we have taken “a new departure.” We do not have a regular leader,
as heretofore, but the person occupying the chair appoints a successor
for the next meeting, who conducts the recitation, makes up the order
of work, and then appoints a successor for the next meeting. Our plan
of work is still the same as in former years. Prof. Norton is still
with us occasionally; also Miss S. M. Severance, who has been a great
help to the circle since its organization, not only as an efficient
teacher at the regular meetings, but one to whom we could refer
questions of importance, her extensive and varied information enabling
her to be, as it were, a living encyclopedia for our benefit.

_Reading, Pennsylvania._—To our own pleasant city has swept the “happy
circle” and like its many members, we too, feel blessed that

          ——“our Heavenly Father granted
    Us the boon of being numbered
    With the army of Chautauqua.”

Two weeks ago a dozen of us ladies and gentlemen organized ourselves
into—

    ——“a band that owe allegiance to a monarch called the Mind,
    Who believe to-day is better than the yesterday behind;
    We laugh at party limits, breathe no single word of barter,
    But our all absorbing passion is to grow a trifle smarter.”

Through the kindness of Mr. Wm. Price, a spacious room in his residence
has been put at our disposal, and herein we hold our meetings every
Monday evening, and examine one another on the matters we have read
during each preceding week, and the answers form vital topics for
discussion of surpassing interest. But we are by no means selfish with
our highly prized acquirements, and our circle is greatly honored by
the leading Lyceum of this city, the management of which has graciously
requested us to take charge of the first half of their program. In
response we send some one of our circle in a representative capacity,
to each meeting to deliver a lecture upon one of the subjects of the
course, and we expect to take up all in due season. Already much
interest is awakened, and our circle promises to become famous for its
capable and willing workers for Christianity and culture.

_Holliston, Maine._—Our local circle numbers forty members. Our
meetings are held monthly, and the program is arranged by a committee
of two, and announced a month in advance. Synopses of readings are
given, and essays on leading characters and topics. We have talks on
subjects of general interest and Round-Table conversations. On memorial
days we have readings from the authors whose day we celebrate. We
allow considerable time for music, for the singing of class songs, and
we expect all qualified to furnish music, to do so by making their
own selections. Once a year we give an entertainment of a musical and
literary character, inviting friends who are not members. From time
to time we have public lectures, arranged on subjects of interest and
connected with C. L. S. C. work.

The Rev. R. H. Howard writes from Saxonville, Massachusetts: Under
what was at first deemed extremely unpropitious circumstances we have
now what appears to be a flourishing circle in this place. At the
outset all signs seemed discouraging; but the energy and pluck of a few
young ladies were honored by the awakening of marked and very hopeful
interest in the enterprise, and our meetings thus far have been fully
attended and enthusiastic. Even the perplexing, though unavoidable,
delay in obtaining the text-books has not perceptibly dampened or
diminished the ardor excited. Meanwhile, not feeling able to purchase
large and expensive maps and charts, one of our members, who wields
a facile pencil, sketches, on a large scale, such maps and charts as
we require as we proceed. A large map, in connection with a history
exercise in a circle meeting, would seem to be indispensable. Certain
charts, also, however simple or crude, illustrative of geological
formations, and race and language relations, cannot but serve a very
important purpose. Let me observe just here, that I learn that the
same enthusiasm in C. L. S. C. work that has been developed in this
place is obtaining in adjoining communities. Teachers in public
schools, I am told, gather, after the labors of the day, in one of
the school-rooms, and, for an hour or so, daily, read together. How
interesting a spectacle! Yea, in view of this interest in these higher
intellectual pursuits, thus awakened among these young people under my
own eye, I have been impressed, as never before, as I have thought of
the vast popular intellectual ferment produced throughout the country,
not to say throughout the world, by this wonderful C. L. S. C. of Dr.
Vincent’s. Arising from this very wide-spread, and ever-extending and
deepening interest in, and devotion to intellectual and moral pursuits,
crowned through his timely instrumentality, what could well have been
more timely, aye, providential, in the best sense of the term, than
this movement? Who can begin to estimate its results in the years and
ages to come? Already the important fact is developed that the life,
and doubtless the continued existence, of Chautauqua, Framingham
Assembly, and other similar enterprises, are bound up in, and are
destined to depend upon the support derived from the C. L. S. C. The
mother thus already leans hard upon the young and vigorous daughter.

At Elkham, Wisconsin, local circle, the president appoints two or more
members at each meeting to prepare questions on the lesson for the next
week. These members teach that part of the lesson on which they have
prepared questions. Some recite with open books, while others are
prepared to answer the questions with closed books. The questions and
answers published in THE CHAUTAUQUAN are always used as a review. Of
course there is a free interchange of opinion and frequent discussions
on points of the lesson, which are of peculiar interest.

_Meriden, Connecticut._—The officers of our local circle constitute
the Instruction Committee. The president appoints a committee of five,
whose duty it is to assist the Instruction Committee. Said committee
appoint leaders of reviews, and, in fact, they have charge of all
work of the circle, memorial exercises, lectures, entertainments,
etc. We have another committee of four, whose work it is to see all
strangers at meetings of the circle, and invite them to join; also to
welcome new members, and see that they are introduced to other members,
especially to the officers and Instruction Committee. We number seventy
members, thirty-four regular and thirty-six local members. We regret
to say that we lost one member by death, last summer; quite a young
man, and, so far as we know, the only one who has taken the White
Seal course. We regret his death, as he promised to become a valuable
member to our circle. A few have left the circle this year, but new
members are continually being added, eight names being proposed at
our last meeting. We meet the first and third Monday evenings of each
month. Some of our members walk from a mile to a mile and a half to
attend the meetings. Our method of work is as follows: We open the
meeting with singing and prayer; all business is then transacted. We
have about five reviews in an evening. At present the reviews are in
Wilkinson’s Preparatory Greek Course, History of Russia, and English
and Scandinavian History and Literature. These are prepared in the
following manner: One member prepares from three to twelve questions
on a subject, gives them to other members to answer at next meeting,
and at that time calls for answers, and gives other members opportunity
to ask any questions on the subject. Five-minute essays are sometimes
read on other important subjects. We take up geology soon, on which
subject Prof. Chapin, Ph. D., president of Meriden Scientific Circle,
will give a few talks. The circle has just decided to purchase the set
of geological diagrams. The committee intend all memorial days shall
be celebrated this year. Last June we had a circle picnic, spending
the day at a very pleasant place about twelve miles from here. It
was a great success. Monday evening, September 18, we had memorial
exercises for Garfield Day. On Monday evening, October 2, Rev. J. L.
Hurlbut, of Plainfield, delivered a public lecture under the auspices
of the circle, his subject being, “How to Spend our Leisure.” Both
the lecturer and lecture have been very highly spoken of by all who
attended, and we consider it the greatest success of all lectures as
yet given. Our circle is growing, and we believe a great amount of good
has been and is being done by it.

The local circles of the C. L. S. C. of Cincinnati, O., have this
winter adopted the plan of visiting each other. This new arrangement
was commenced on Tuesday evening, Oct. 31,—the Wesley, York street and
Grace Church circles visiting the one at Christie Chapel. The lesson
for the evening was a review of Grecian History, and was ably conducted
by Mr. John A. Johnson, President of the Christie Circle. At the close
of the lesson some minutes were passed in social intercourse, and then
followed a comparison of the methods pursued in conducting the various
circles present. All expressed themselves highly pleased with the
meeting and it is the purpose to continue them throughout the year, as
this system of visitation serves to make the members better acquainted
with each other, which is desirable in a large city like Cincinnati. It
also serves to strengthen the bond of fellowship existing among those
engaged in the common cause.

The first of the 3rd series of free lectures, under the auspices
of the Chautauqua Circles of Cincinnati and vicinity, was given at
Christie Chapel M. E. Church, corner of Court and Wesley avenue, in
October. The church was filled with a highly intelligent and attentive
audience. Rev. Dr. Blackburn, of Central Presbyterian Church, delivered
a very instructive and eloquent lecture of an hour’s length on the
subject, “The Origin and Spirit of the Greeks.” The lecturer traced
the march of the Greeks from their Aryan fatherland, ranged them in
the two main divisions of the Ionians and the Dorians; traced the
rise of Doric Sparta and Ionic Athens; sketched their periods of
successive overlordship; showed the want of political unity in all
the Greek States, and emphasized the fact of a social unity in the
Pan-Hellenic sentiment, the Greek language, religion, Amphictyonic
council, festivals, literature, philosophy and art. The Greeks could
appreciate a good thing wherever it originated. They caused art to
stand out in its own beauty and on its own merits. The lecture closed
with these words: “Greece had a mission to the human race, a noble work
for the world. It was not in the domain of political government, nor
of conscience, but in that of intellect. The lasting outcome of her
work was culture. She fulfilled her mission. She ran her race among the
nations and won the laurel. She fell, and thorns now bind her delicate
hands, but the old olive wreath has not faded. The heritage of her
culture has passed to the westward Aryans. We read our New Testament
and remember her marvelous gift of speech. We run our Christian course
and think of the Olympian races. Plato is studied where Paul is
believed. The classics are recited where the Gospel is read for its
wonderful words of life.”

_Flushing, Michigan._—Our local circle meets every Friday evening.
We have roll-call, and each member responds, either with a verse of
Scripture or a gem from one of the poets, as decided on at our last
meeting. Then singing and prayer. We next take the questions given in
THE CHAUTAUQUAN, with additional questions on some of the required
reading. We also have select reading or an essay each week. We had
ten members last year; we now have eighteen. Our first meeting for
this year was on the evening of September 29. The exercises were as
follows: Reading of Psalms i:8-23; President’s greeting; essay on “The
Excellencies of the C. L. S. C.;” recitation, “Hope Song of C. L. S.
C.;” Bryant’s letter on the C. L. S. C.; paper on the “Design and
Method in the C. L. S. C.” Then followed the enrollment of members by
the secretary, and the appointment of committees by the president.

_Nebraska City, Nebraska._—Two years ago our C. L. S. C. sprang into
existence in the form of a triangle, widened into a circle in 1881,
and now, in 1882, we have a membership of thirty. Monthly meetings
have been held, at which we have had short oral accounts of subjects
discussed in Geology, and questions and answers on Greek history.
A noticeable feature of our last meeting was a “match” on the
pronunciation of words selected from our reading. Were Herodotus or
Thucydides present at our meetings, we think he would take pity upon
us, and give to his places and men names less jaw-breaking to learn.
The correct pronunciation of them seems to us like a “piling of Pelion
upon Ossa.” Though our officers are ladies, we have able gentlemen
in our circle. Some of the reading is a little “deep” for us, but,
by perseverance, we hope to come up to it, “since the mountain can
not come to Mahomet.” We all now see its beneficence insomuch that
we present a unanimous vote of thanks to the projector of this grand
scheme—the People’s College.

[_Not Required._]

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

    FIFTY QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ON “PREPARATORY GREEK COURSE IN
        ENGLISH,” COMPRISING THE LATTER HALF OF THE VOLUME, OR
        “HOMER.”

By ALBERT M. MARTIN, GENERAL SECRETARY C. L. S. C.

1. Q. After Xenophon’s Anabasis what is it usual for the preparatory
student to take up next in order? A. The Iliad of Homer.

2. Q. What is sometimes taken instead of the Iliad? A. The Odyssey.

3. Q. What is the position of the Iliad of Homer in literature? A. It
is the leading poem of the world.

4. Q. From what is the Iliad entitled? A. From the word Ilium, which is
the alternative name of Troy.

5. Q. What episode in the siege of Troy is the real subject of the
Iliad? A. The wrath of Achilles.

6. Q. What occasioned the siege of Troy? A. The carrying off of Helen,
wife of Menelaus, a Grecian king, by Paris, son of Priam, king of Troy.

7. Q. Who engaged in the siege against Troy? A. The confederate kings
of all Greece, with Agamemnon as commander-in-chief.

8. Q. What was the occasion of the wrath of Achilles? A. The arbitrary
interference of Agamemnon to deprive Achilles of a female captive,
Briseïs, and usurp her to himself.

9. Q. What at length incites Achilles to again return to the field? A.
The death of Patroclus, his close friend, slain by the Trojans.

10. Q. What is the result as to Achilles? A. He slays Hector, the
Trojan champion, and is himself killed by Paris.

11. Q. What forms the subject of the Odyssey? A. The adventures of one
of the Greek chieftains, Ulysses, or Odysseus.

12. Q. When and how does the Iliad itself close? A. Before the fall of
Troy, and with the death and funeral rites of Hector.

13. Q. What are some of the best known translations of the Iliad? A.
Chapman’s, Pope’s, Cowper’s, Derby’s and Bryant’s.

14. Q. Of what are some of the most noted passages in the first book of
the Iliad descriptive? A. The descent of Apollo, the wrangle between
Achilles and Agamemnon, the promise of Jupiter to Thetis, and the feast
of the gods.

15. Q. What does the second book of the Iliad recount? A. How Jupiter
sends a deceiving dream to Agamemnon to induce that chieftain to make a
vain assault on the Trojans.

16. Q. With what does the book close? A. With a catalogue of the Greek
forces assembled.

17. Q. To us who read in the light of present views what is a feature
of the Iliad fatal to any genuine interest in the story? A. The
introduction of supernatural agencies into the action of the poem.

18. Q. What is one of the prominent scenes introduced in the third book
of the Iliad? A. A duel between Paris, the thief, and Menelaus, the
husband of Helen.

19. Q. What takes place at the crisis of the duel? A. Venus steps in
and carries Paris off to his bed-chamber in the palace of Priam.

20. Q. In the fourth book what is described by a simile, one of the
most nobly conceived and nobly expressed of all that occur in the
Iliad? A. The advance of the Achaians to battle.

21. Q. What noted hero is introduced in the fifth book of the Iliad?
A. Æneas, the Trojan hero of Virgil’s poem, the Æneid.

22. Q. Of what is one of the most famous passages in the sixth book of
the Iliad descriptive? A. The parting of Hector and Andromache, his
wife, bringing with her their little child.

23. Q. Who among the Greeks takes the honors of the seventh book of the
Iliad? A. Ajax.

24. Q. What constitutes a prominent feature in the eighth book of the
Iliad? A. Another account of the Olympian gods in council.

25. Q. Technically described what is Homer’s verse? A. Dactylic
hexameter.

26. Q. What is a dactyl? A. A foot of three syllables, of which the
first is long and the other two short.

27. Q. In dactylic hexameter how many of these feet are there in a
line? A. Six.

28. Q. Name a classic English poem written in dactylic hexameter. A.
Longfellow’s “Evangeline.”

29. Q. In what celebrated descriptive passage does Homer exhaust all
his art? A. In his description of the shield of Achilles.

30. Q. What does the Odyssey mean? A. The poem of Odysseus, or Ulysses,
king of the island of Ithaca.

31. Q. When Troy was taken, for what place did Odysseus and his
followers sail? A. Ithaca.

32. Q. On their way, to what land were they driven? A. That of the
Cyclops, a savage race of one-eyed giants.

33. Q. Here what did Odysseus do to the Cyclop Polyphemus? A. He
put out the eye of the monster after he had eaten six of the hero’s
comrades.

34. Q. What did Poseidon, the god of the sea and father of Polyphemus,
do in revenge? A. He doomed Odysseus to wander far and wide over the
sea to strange lands.

35. Q. When the Odyssey begins, ten years after the fall of Troy, where
is Odysseus? A. In the island of Ogygia, at the center of the sea,
where for seven years the nymph Calypso has detained him against his
will.

36. Q. Meanwhile what has befallen Penelope, the wife of Odysseus,
in Ithaca? A. She has been courted by more than a hundred suitors,
lawless, violent men, who feast riotously in the house of Odysseus as
if it were their own.

37. Q. When Odysseus at length gets permission to sail from Ogygia, and
starts on a raft, what occurs to him? A. Poseidon wrecks his raft, and
he is thrown upon the island of the Phæacians, a rich and happy people
near to the gods.

38. Q. Upon being entertained by the king of the Phæacians, what are
the subjects of some of the adventures he relates? A. The Enchantress
Circe, the sweet-singing sirens, and the passage between Scylla and
Charybdis.

39. Q. After Odysseus is taken back to Ithaca by a Phæacian crew,
what is the fate of the suitors of Penelope? A. They are all slain in
the palace by Odysseus, assisted by his son Telemachus and two trusty
servants.

40. Q. What are some of the most noted translations of the Odyssey? A.
Chapman’s, Pope’s, Cowper’s, Worsley’s, and Bryant’s.

41. Q. In what form is Worsley’s translation written? A. The Spenserian
Stanza, that adopted by Edmund Spenser for his great poem of the “Fairy
Queen.”

42. Q. Name some other well-known poems written in the Spenserian
Stanza. A. Thompson’s “Castle of Indolence,” Beattie’s “Minstrel,” and
Byron’s “Childe Harold.”

43. Q. What part of the adventures of Odysseus does our author first
give in an extended quotation from Worsley’s translation of the
Odyssey? A. His stay in the country of the Phæacians.

44. Q. What was the name of the king of the Phæacians, frequently
referred to in poetry containing classical allusions? A. Alcinous.

45. Q. What American author has written a version of the legend of
Circe? A. Hawthorne in his “Tanglewood Tales.”

46. Q. Of what is the next extended quotation descriptive that is
given by our author from Worsley’s translation of the Odyssey? A. The
slaughter of the suitors of Penelope by Odysseus and his son.

47. Q. Of what are the remaining quotations given descriptive? A.
Odysseus making himself known to Penelope, his wife, and to Laertes,
his father.

48. Q. Who now intervenes to avert further bloodshed? A. Athene.

49. Q. In what manner is this accomplished? A. She stays the hand of
Ulysses raised in fell self-defense against the avenging kindred of the
suitors, and enjoins a solid peace between the two parties at feud.

50. Q. In this appearance what familiar form does the goddess Athene
assume? A. That of Mentor, ancient friend of Ulysses.

[_Not Required._]

QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY.

By ALBERT M. MARTIN, GENERAL SECRETARY C. L. S. C.

1. What is the origin of the expression, “Possession is nine points in
the law?” [Page 124, Wilkinson’s Preparatory Greek Course in English.]

2. What was the preying sadness that Cowper sought to escape from by
the work of translating Homer? [Page 130.]

3. Where is the original to be found of the quotation, “From the center
to the utmost pole?” [Page 135.]

4. Who was “Macedonia’s Madman,” and why so called?

5. Give some of the features of the Cathedral of Cologne that render it
famous? [Page 159.]

6. With whom did the expression originate, “Perish the thought?” [Page
163.]

7. In what particulars are the lines of Pope, “false and
contradictory,” in his paraphrase of the moonlight scene, given in the
closing part of the eighth book of the Iliad? [Page 185.]

8. When and on what occasion was Webster’s famous seventh of March
speech delivered? [Page 193.]

9. Why is Athene called the “stern-eyed?” [Page 208.]

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER STUDY IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER OF THE
CHAUTAUQUAN.

_Geology._

1. The glacial streams from ice-caves that are the sources of the
Arveiron and the Rhone rivers are milk-white from the presence of
innumerable molecules of triturated rock which they bear suspended.
This powdered rock is in the form of a very fine, impalpable mud. It
is an unctious, sticky deposit, and only requires pressure to knead it
into a tenacious clay. This mud owes its origin to the grinding power
of the glacier, the stones and sand being crushed and pulverized upon
the rock below.

2. The Grinnell glacier, discovered by Captain Hall, is just north
of and adjacent to Hudson’s Strait, on the extreme southern point of
Baffin’s Land, called Meta Incognita.

3. The Loffoden Islands are famous for the great maelstrom, which is
a narrow passage between two of them. They are also noted for their
fisheries. The evidences of the powerful wearing action of tidal
currents is seen in their extremely rugged and precipitous coasts, and
deep channels. Sharp pointed peaks three to four thousand feet above
the sea, rise nearly perpendicularly out of the water.

4. The volcano of Jorullo is situated one hundred and sixty miles
southeast of the City of Mexico. It is famous for its recent and sudden
upheaval during a single night, in the midst of a fertile and highly
cultivated plain.

5. Earthquakes are spoken of as “convulsive movements of Old Vulcan”
for the reason that the ancients ascribed the cause of them to that
God. Vulcan was the god of fire, and his workshop was generally
supposed to be in some volcanic island.

6. The connection of the former island of Tyre with the continent is
not wholly due to the rising of the land from beneath. In the siege of
Tyre by Alexander, 332 B. C., he united the island to the main land
by an enormous artificial mole. This has been increased by ruins and
alluvial deposits.

_History of Greece._

1. Earth and water given to the Persian heralds were regarded as
symbols of submission, because the earth represented the land, and the
water the sea, and the meaning was that they were willing to yield
dominion of both to the Persians.

2. The festival of the Karneian Apollo was a festival observed in
many of the Grecian cities, especially in Sparta, where it was first
instituted, in honor of Apollo Carneius. The celebration lasted nine
days, and during the time nine tents were pitched near the city, and
nine men lived in them after the manner of a military camp, obeying in
everything the order of a herald.

3. The pæan, or war song of the Greeks, was a song originally sung in
honor of Apollo, and was always of a joyous nature. It was also sung as
a battle song, both before an attack on an enemy, and after the battle
was finished. In later times it was sometimes sung in honor of mortals.

4. The tomb of Mausolus is one of the seven wonders of the world,
associated with the name of Artemisia, queen of Halicarnassus,
inasmuch as the Mausoleum was built by another queen of the same name,
distinguished as Artemicia, queen of Caria.

5. According to Thucydides the sacrifice made by Pausanias during the
battle of Platæa was made to Jupiter in the market-place of Platæa. It
was a bloody sacrifice, probably of some domestic animal, and from the
entrails or the manner of the death the soothsayers sought to interpret
the will of the gods.

6. The Island of Delos was called sacred because it was said to have
been the birth-place of Apollo and Diana. In 426 B. C. it was purified
by the Athenians by having all tombs removed from it.

_Geology._

1. The Fille-Fond, or Fille-Field, is a mountain plateau of Norway,
connected with the Songe-Fjeld on the north and the Hardanger-Fjeld on
the south. The summits vary in height from 4,900 feet to 6,300 feet.

2. The common name of the Chimæra is the Sea-cat. It is so called on
account of its eyes. They have a greenish pupil surrounded by a white
iris, and they shine, especially at night, like cats’ eyes. It is also