to commit to memory a poem of a few stanzas only. Wellington, at the
military school, was not brilliant. The teachers of Linnæus thought he
was fit for nothing but a common mechanic. Sir Isaac Newton ranked very
low in school until the age of twelve. When Samuel Wythe, the Dublin
schoolmaster, attempted to educate Richard Brinsley Sheridan, he
pronounced the boy an ‘incorrigible dunce.’ The mother of Sheridan fully
concurred in this verdict, and declared him the most stupid of her sons.
Walter Scott had the credit of having the ‘thickest skull in the
school,’ though Dr. Blair told the teacher that many bright rays of
future glory shone through that same ‘thick skull.’ Milton and Swift
were noted for dulness in childhood. The great Isaac Barrow’s father
used to say that, if it pleased God to take from him any of his
children, he hoped it might be Isaac, as the least promising. Goldsmith
was dull in his youth, and Shakspeare, Gibbon, Davy and Dryden, do not
appear to have exhibited in their childhood even the common elements of
future success.”

The principal now dismissed the school, and the boys filed out, in
military order, at the touch of a bell

                              CHAPTER XV.

                         LESSONS IN PHYSIOLOGY.

WHISTLER persevered with the drawings which his teacher had requested
him to make; and, though he was frequently obliged to rub out and
re-draw his lines, he became so much interested in the work that the
idea of being discouraged scarcely occurred to him. He devoted to it all
the time he could spare out of school, which was not much, now that he
had Clinton to entertain. In two or three days, however, the drawings
were completed; and it was but the work of an evening to shade the lines
with Indian ink. The next morning the young artist had the satisfaction
of handing them to his teacher, and of receiving both his thanks and
praise for the neat and faithful manner in which he had executed his
commission. After the opening exercises of the school, while all the
boys were assembled in the large room, the principal remarked that he
wished to address a few words to the scholars before they separated to
their several rooms.

“I have noticed,” he said, “a somewhat prevalent fault in the school,
which I wish to correct now, at the beginning of the term. Some of you,
I perceive, do not know how to sit or stand properly. It is very
important that you all should acquire this art, or rather habit. If
necessary, you had better neglect your grammar or arithmetic a little,
rather than fail of this accomplishment. As you sit or stand now, you
will be likely to sit or stand as long as you live. Your bodies are now
growing very fast, and they will grow into the shape which you accustom
them to. If it is a bad shape, it will be difficult to correct it a few
years hence.

“The great thing, in sitting, standing and walking, is _erectness_. Keep
the head up, and the body straight. Don’t try to hump your backs, nor
hang your heads as though they were too heavy for you. There are two
great objections to the crooked position. One is, it looks badly; and
the other is, it is very injurious to the body. I consider this subject
of so much importance that I have procured a few drawings to illustrate
it, which I shall fasten upon the wall, where you can all see them
several times every day. The first two that I shall show you were
executed by Master William Davenport; and I think you will all admit
that they are very creditable to him. This drawing”—and here the
principal held up the first design on this page—“shows the wrong
standing posture. There are not many of you that cut quite so bad a
figure as that when you stand up to read, but some of you resemble it a
great deal more than you ought to. Look at it, and see how ungainly it
appears! How unnatural it is! Now, just compare it with this
boy”—holding up the other design. “This is the right position. It is
easy, natural, graceful, and favorable to health. I wish you all to
imitate it.”

The teacher now wrote “_wrong_” under the first drawing, and “_right_”
under the other, and then fastened them upon the wall. He then held up
to the school a large drawing, represented in the following engraving,
and said “For this drawing, and the mate to it, which I shall soon show
you, I am indebted to Miss Martin.” (This lady was one of the assistant
teachers.) “It shows the wrong sitting position, and it is a pretty good
likeness of the posture which many of you get into when you are writing
and ciphering. Just study that boy’s attitude. See his head, hanging
down as if it were loaded with lead,—and very likely it is, for he looks
like a dunce! See his cramped and hunched chest, and his twisted legs! I
will label it ‘_wrong_,’ and fasten it up here; and as often as you look
at it, let it be a warning to you.

“And here, boys,” continued the principal, exhibiting the above drawing,
“you see the right sitting position. What an improvement it is upon the
other position, even if we think only of the looks! But the effect on
the health is far more important than that. I suppose you all know that
the spine, or backbone, is intended to support the body and keep it
erect. It is one of the most curious contrivances in our bodies. It is
composed of twenty-four small bones, between each of which there is a
piece of cartilage, or gristle, which we may compare to an India-rubber
spring. The whole makes a strong column, and yet it can be bent in any
direction, and is so elastic or yielding that it protects the head from
jars as completely as the softest cushion could do it. But the proper
position of this spinal column is the upright one; and it can never be
kept long out of that position without injury. Look at either of those
boys who are in the wrong position. The spine, you see, must be very
crooked. If they assume that unnatural position often, and remain in it
for a long time, there is danger that the cartilages or springs in their
backbones will harden where they are compressed, and then they will
always be distorted. Besides, there are certain muscles in our trunks
that sustain the spine. When we habitually sit or stand in a crooked
position, these muscles are severely taxed, and finally lose their
strength, and then we become liable to weakness and disease. Diseases of
the spine are very difficult to cure. People are sometimes confined to
their beds for ten, twenty, or thirty years by such complaints, before
death comes to their relief.

“But the backbone is not the only sufferer from this bad habit. It
crowds the lungs, so that they do not have room to work. They become
contracted; the chest grows flat and narrow; the stomach and abdomen are
pressed together unnaturally; and, after a while, you will be unable to
take in air enough to give life and vigor to the blood. Then sores will
form in your lungs; the doctors will tell you that you are in
consumption, and death will begin to knock at your door. You can easily
satisfy yourselves on this point by an experiment or two. Put yourselves
into a crooked position, and then speak or read aloud a few minutes.
Then do the same thing in an upright position, and see how much easier
it is. Or, you may try to take a full breath without raising the
shoulders, and then do so giving the shoulders fair play. You will find
there is a right way and a wrong way to breathe, and that you cannot
breathe right when you are sitting, standing, or lying in an unnatural
position.

“There is one other bad sitting position to which I wish to call your
attention. It arises from not keeping the arms on the same level, and is
generally caused by sitting at a table or desk that is too high or too
low. In resting one elbow, you throw up the shoulder on one side, and
depress the other, and the spine is thus made very crooked. You should
keep your shoulders as level as possible. Heads up, chest erect and
straight, and shoulders square and thrown back—that’s the true position.
Now, boys, you may go to your rooms, and see if you can put this lesson
in practice.”

A few days after this, Whistler received another physiological lesson,
which made a still deeper impression upon his mind. It happened in this
wise. Ettie had a beautiful kitten, to which she was very much attached.
It was as white as snow, with the exception of its feet, and a black
spot under its neck. Its fur was very fine, soft and clean. One
afternoon, on returning from school, Whistler found the kitten asleep in
a little apartment which was devoted to Ettie’s especial use as a
play-room. His sister’s playthings were scattered over the floor, and
among them was a small box in which she kept many of her valuables, and
which she called her work-box. It was made of mahogany, and the top slid
on in a groove. Thoughtless of everything but fun, Whistler deposited
kitty in the box, and closed the top, chuckling to himself as he
imagined how Ettie would jump when she returned to her sports and opened
pussy’s prison.

In the evening Ettie searched the house from cellar to attic for her
kitten, but it did not come to her call. Besides herself, no one was at
home but her father and the domestic, the rest of the family having gone
to hear the band play upon the Common, this being one of the evenings in
which music was provided for the public at the city’s expense. Ettie,
however, would give neither her father nor the domestic any peace until
they had joined her in the search; and when, after thoroughly exploring
the premises, outdoors and in, without avail, they told her she must go
to bed without seeing the kitty, she did not yield to their wishes
without some tears, although assured that the little stray-away would
doubtless come home in the morning.

The next morning Ettie was among the first in the family to arise, and
she anxiously resumed her search for the lost kitten. Whistler heard her
from his chamber, and his intended joke then flashed upon his mind,
almost for the first time since he shut the box upon the kitten.
Hurriedly dressing himself, he went down to Ettie’s play-room, and found
the box just as he left it. Drawing off the cover, there lay the missing
kitten, cold and stiff in death. It had evidently died of suffocation,
or want of air. The joints of the box were fitted together with glue,
and the top slid on very snugly, so that it was nearly air-tight.

Whistler felt sad enough at this unexpected issue of an act of
playfulness. His sadness was greatly increased by the consciousness
which flashed upon him that he was not altogether innocent in the
matter. But, at the same moment, another thought flashed upon his mind,
and that was, that the fate of the kitten need never be known to any one
else. Fortunately he had said nothing about shutting her up, and it
would now be very easy to dispose of her remains in a private manner. He
was not sure but that it would be a kindness to Ettie to leave her in
the dark as to the sad and untimely fate of her four-footed playmate.
Then he thought of an admonition which his father had often urged upon
him from early childhood. It was this: “When you accidentally do any
mischief, always promptly confess it, for I can forgive your
carelessness much more easily than your attempt at concealment.” He had
been too faithfully trained to this excellent rule to disregard it now;
and he made up his mind very quickly what course to pursue. Shutting up
the box, and placing it where Ettie could not get at it, he went to his
father’s chamber door, and knocked. Mr. Davenport was dressing himself,
and admitted him.

“Father, I have done some mischief, but I didn’t mean to,” said
Whistler, with some hesitation.

“What now?—some more of your heedlessness?” inquired his father.

Whistler related his unhappy attempt at a joke, and its sad sequel.

“Well,” said his father, when he had finished his confession, “that was
very bright in you, I must confess. Didn’t you know that cats have
lungs, and can’t live without air? What has become of all the physiology
you have learned at school and at home? Couldn’t you put enough of it in
practice to save that poor kitten’s life?”

Whistler was silent. He was almost as much astonished as his father at
his own thoughtlessness, for his parents had taken unusual pains to
impress upon his mind some of the great laws of health, foremost among
which was the necessity of an abundant supply of pure air. He could
explain the uses of the lungs; he could name the gases of which air is
composed; he knew that a pair of human lungs need a hogshead of fresh
air every hour, to sustain health; and yet it did not occur to him that
a kitten would suffer, and perhaps die, if shut up in a box but little
larger than itself, and nearly air-tight.

“Well, it can’t be helped now; but be more careful hereafter,” added Mr.
Davenport.

“Had I better tell Sissy the kitten is dead, or would you say nothing
about it to her?” inquired Whistler.

“Yes, go at once and tell her about it, and don’t keep her in suspense
any longer,” replied his father.

Whistler promptly obeyed, breaking the news as gently as possible to his
little sister; but, in spite of his precautions, she gave vent to a
flood of tears, and refused to be comforted. Poor kitty had one sincere
mourner.

                              CHAPTER XVI.

                          THE PRESTON FAMILY.

“MOTHER, may I go over to Ralph Preston’s, this evening, with Clinton?”
asked Whistler, one day, about the middle of September. “Oscar has got
home, and his cousin Marcus has come with him. I’ve seen them both. We
are going to take Clinton and Oscar by surprise. Oscar doesn’t know that
Clinton is in town, and Clinton doesn’t know that Oscar is. There’ll be
quite a scene, I guess, when they come together; you know they used to
be pretty intimate, when Oscar lived down to Brookdale.”

Mrs. Davenport readily granted the desired permission; for, although it
was a rule of the house that the children should never be absent from
home after dark without the consent of one of their parents, the rule
was intended merely to shield them from the moral dangers to which the
young are exposed in the streets of towns after nightfall, and not to
debar them from any proper and innocent amusement.

Whistler and Ralph attended the same school, and, although there was a
difference of two or three years between their ages,—Ralph being the
younger,—they were intimate friends. There were many excellent traits in
Ralph’s character. Whistler was also on terms of friendship with the
other members of the family—Alice, Ella and George. Alice was a young
lady of seventeen. Ella has already been introduced to the reader.
George, the youngest, was about nine years old. With Oscar, who was now
half way between fifteen and sixteen, Whistler had never been on very
good terms. Until within a little more than a year, they had been
classmates in school; but the character of Oscar, at that time, was not
such as Whistler could admire; and, on the other hand, Oscar seemed, for
some reason known best to himself, to take a dislike to Whistler, which
more than once manifested itself in blows. For all this, however,
Whistler now cherished no feeling of resentment towards his old enemy.
On the contrary, the shame and suffering which Oscar had brought upon
himself, and the desire and determination he had expressed to reform,
warmly enlisted Whistler’s sympathies in his behalf.

Marcus Page, Oscar’s cousin, who had come to Boston with him, was about
eighteen years old, and lived in the small town of Highburg, in Vermont.
His mother had agreed to take Oscar into her family, where he would be
under good influences, and secure from the evil associations and
temptations of the city; and his release from the State Reform School
was conditioned upon this arrangement. Marcus was to spend a few day in
Boston, and then to return to his home, with Oscar.

When Mr. Davenport came home to tea that evening, he brought a letter
for Clinton. It was from his mother, and was the first intelligence he
had received from home since his departure. It contained several items
of intelligence which, to him, were of considerable importance. Dick
Sneider, the supposed incendiary, had at length been arrested, and after
a preliminary examination, had been committed to jail, to await a trial
by jury. Clinton had been summoned as a witness against him; but, as the
trial could not take place for several weeks, he would have an
opportunity to finish his visit before returning. Nor was Dick the only
rogue that had been caught since Clinton left home. The letter stated
that some creature entered Mr. Preston’s barn, one night, and killed
four geese. A trap was set the next night, and the following morning it
held securely by the paw of the left fore foot a wild-cat that stood
seventeen inches high, measured three feet in length, and weighed
thirty-three pounds. He was alive, and not in a very amiable mood, when
discovered, but was despatched by two or three blows with a heavy stick.
His skin had been preserved. “It is the opinion of the folks here,”
continued the letter, “that this was the identical rascal that made such
havoc with your fowls, just before you left home; but we shall probably
never know for a certainty whether this was so or not. When we discover
a rogue, we are apt to lay upon him not only his own sins, but many
others for which we can find no owner.”

If Mrs. Davenport entertained any doubt as to the guilt of the wild-cat
in the chicken affair, Clinton did not. It was as plain to him as day
that the feline monster was the real culprit. He had suspected as much
from the first, against his father’s doubts and ridicule; and now that
the presence of such a creature had been demonstrated, he wanted no
further proof. There was somewhat of a chasm between the two links of
the argument, it is true; but although the reasoning would hardly be
sufficient to hang a man, Clinton deemed it amply conclusive to condemn
a wild-cat. He exulted quite as much over the conquest of this midnight
marauder, as he did over the capture of the other and greater rogue
mentioned in the letter.

After tea, Clinton went over to Mr. Preston’s house with his cousin. The
“surprise,” when Oscar and Clinton met, was quite as great, on both
sides, as had been anticipated. They were right glad to see each other
face to face once more; and, although Oscar at first seemed to feel some
restraint, the cordial manner with which his old comrades received him,
put him at his ease again. From regard to his feelings, no allusion was
made to his past career; but future plans and hopes were discussed quite
freely.

“How do you think you shall like living on a farm?” inquired Clinton,
addressing Oscar.

“O, I’ve made up my mind to like it, whether or no,” was the reply.

“If you stick to that, you will be contented enough,” said Marcus.

“You won’t have to work very hard this winter, I suppose,” added
Clinton, who remembered that industry was not one of Oscar’s virtues,
when he knew him in Brookdale.

“No,—I’m going to the academy till next spring, if not longer,” replied
Oscar.

“Are you?” inquired Clinton.

“And I shouldn’t wonder if I had Cousin Marcus for a teacher, too,”
added Oscar.

“Why, that would be complete!” said Whistler.

“Yes; the trustees want him to be an assistant teacher this winter, but
he hasn’t given them any answer yet,” continued Oscar.

“I should admire to have you for a teacher, I know I should,” said Ella.
“I should expect you would show me lots of favors.”

“Perhaps I should,” replied Marcus; “but possibly they might not be just
such favors as you would like. We had a teacher in our district school,
once, who had his wife’s brother for one of his pupils. He was a large
boy, and quite a good sort of a fellow, too; but he got more whippings
than any two boys in the school. I suppose his brother-in-law thought he
must show him some favors.”

“But you wouldn’t serve _me_ in that way?” said Ella.

“I should hope not,—nor Oscar, either,” replied Marcus; “but I must tell
you what I told Ronald. He was quite tickled with the idea of my being
teacher; but I told him that if I showed him any partiality, it would
only be in looking after him a little sharper than I did after the other
scholars.”

“Then Ronald is going to the academy this winter?” inquired Mrs.
Preston.

“Yes, ma’am; he is to commence with the next term,” replied Marcus.

“Ronald,—that’s a queer name!—who is he?” inquired Whistler.

“He’s a little fellow that has lived with us several years,” replied
Marcus. “He is a French Canadian by birth; but his parents are dead, and
mother took him out of pity, and has brought him up, so far.”

“He thinks a great deal of you, doesn’t he?” inquired Ralph.

“He appears to,” replied Marcus.

“He certainly ought to; your cousin Marcus has been almost a father to
him,” said Mrs. Preston. “He takes nearly the whole care of him, and has
made him what he is; and I suppose Ronald feels towards him very much as
he would towards a father.”

“You give me more credit than belongs to me,” interposed Marcus. “If it
hadn’t been for mother and Aunt Fanny, I couldn’t have done anything
with him. He was the queerest little fellow you ever saw when he first
came to us. He was full of all sorts of pranks, and was as wild and
untrained as an Indian child.”

“Did he talk English?” inquired George.

“Yes, after his fashion,” replied Marcus. “His parents spoke broken
English, but French was their natural tongue.”

“Does he speak French, too?” inquired Clinton.

“No, he has lost that,” replied Marcus. “When I began to study French at
school, I thought he might be of some help to me; but I soon found that
his _patois_, as they call it, was about as bad as the English of a raw
Irishman. So we thought he might as well let it go.”

“Does he speak English well now?” asked Whistler.

“O, yes,—very well,” said Marcus.

“What did you think of him, mother? You saw him this summer, didn’t
you?” inquired Oscar.

“Yes, I saw him, and liked him very well,” replied Mrs. Preston. “He is
a bright, intelligent, wide-awake boy, but a little roguish, I should
say.”

“But, mother, he is a good-hearted and well-meaning boy,” said Alice,
who also had visited Highburg that summer.

“I have no doubt of it,” added Mrs. Preston; “but for all that he is a
little mischievous. I have laughed a good many times over one scrape he
got himself into while we were there. There are two buildings on the
farm that stand very near together, but do not touch. There is just
about enough space between them for a cat to walk through. Well, Ronald
took it into his head, one day, to crawl through that narrow space. So
he squeezed himself in, and pretty soon we heard a great outcry in that
direction. We all ran out to see what had happened, and there we found
the young rogue, wedged in so closely between the two buildings that he
couldn’t move an inch, and almost frightened out of his wits. Marcus got
ropes and pries, and we worked over him about an hour before we got him
out; and then he had to leave a good part of his clothing behind him. I
shall never forget how cheap he looked when he came out of that
place—his jacket in tatters, his clothes covered with mould and dirt,
and his face as red as a beet.”

“He has a faculty for getting himself into such scrapes,” said Marcus.
“Last spring I had some business at Montpelier, and I took him with me.
The man I wanted to see was an officer of some kind,—a sheriff, I
believe. He wasn’t in when I called at his place of business, and so I
took a newspaper, and sat down to wait. I didn’t notice what Ronald was
about; but after a few minutes he came to me, with one of his droll
looks, and carrying his hands in a singular manner. He was handcuffed. I
at first thought it was a good joke, and laughed at it; but I soon found
it was a sorry joke to him, for he couldn’t get the handcuffs off. They
had spring locks, and fastened themselves, but could not be opened
without a key. Though they were too large for his wrists, I found I
could not slip them off without endangering his hands. Pretty soon a man
came in, and he told me that Ronald would have to wear the handcuffs
until I could find their owner, if it was for a week, as no key would
unlock them but the one that was made for them. This rather put a damper
on Ronald; but, fortunately, the man came in after a little while. Then
I thought I would carry the joke a little farther; so I pointed to
Ronald, and told him I had got a prisoner for him. He wanted to know
what he had done, and I told him he had put his hands where he ought not
to. ‘Ah, that’s bad!—that’s bad!’ said he; ‘how much did he steal?’—‘I
didn’t steal anything,’ said Ronald; ‘but I saw these things, and I
thought I’d try them on, and now I can’t get them off.’ The man saw
through the joke, then, and he got the key and took off the handcuffs.”

“Ronald isn’t the first boy who has handcuffed himself,” said Mr.
Preston, looking up from one of several letters which he had been
opening and reading during the preceding conversation. “Here’s a boy,
now, who has put himself into worse handcuffs than Ronald’s, and, what
is more, he doesn’t know it; but any body else can see it plainly
enough.”

“Who is he, father?—what has he done?” inquired Ralph.

“He is a boy who wants a situation in my store,” replied Mr. Preston. “I
put an advertisement in the papers for a boy, and these letters are all
answers to it. Here is the advertisement; you may read it aloud, Ralph,
and then those who wish may examine this reply to it.”

Ralph then read as follows:

    “WANTED, in a W. I. Goods Store, an active, intelligent boy,
    about fourteen years old, who writes a fair hand, is quick at
    figures, and whose parents reside in the city. Address, in
    handwriting of applicant, ‘W. I. G.,’ at this office.”

The letter to which Mr. Preston alluded was then handed around, and read
by all present, eliciting many amusing comments. The handwriting was
cramped, awkward, and in some parts scarcely legible; the spelling was
quite original; the sentences were run into each other with an utter
contempt for marks of punctuation; capital letters were withheld and
dispensed according to a system not laid down in any of the books; and
the general structure of the composition indicated an entire ignorance
of all rules and laws of established usage. It read as follows:

                                                 “FALL RIVER, sep 14

    “Honered sir—i see by the Boston dayly papers printed in Boston
    that you want a boy if you do i think i might answer perhaps i
    am fifteen old smart and strong have a good education have
    ciphered through adams arithmetic once and took a meddle at the
    last righting school——Perhaps you wont Think so by my righting
    as i have got a very bad pen i have had some experience in my
    unkles grocery and should staid there if was not so verry dull i
    think i should like Boston a great deal Better.

    “As for sallary i think 50 ayear besides my board and cloathes
    about right the first year i can come as soon as you want please
    write to obedient Servant

                                                       JOHN MORROW.”

“Sure enough,” said Mrs. Preston, “that boy has put on
handcuffs,—handcuffs of ignorance! If he tells the truth, he has had
some opportunities of getting an education; but it is very plain that he
did not profit by them. He has put the handcuffs on, and he will have to
wear them, now.”

The children insisted upon seeing the letters of the other applicants,
and they were accordingly handed around, read, and criticised, affording
much amusement to the company. None of them were quite so faulty as John
Morrow’s, though several of them did not do much credit to the writers.
Two or three, however, were very well expressed, and neatly written. One
of the best read as follows:

                                            “BOSTON, Sept. 15, 185-.

    “DEAR SIR: I read your advertisement for a boy, and think I
    might answer your purpose. I was fourteen years old last June,
    and have just left school, and come to Boston to earn my living.
    My parents live in Dracut; but I have two grown-up brothers in
    Boston, with whom I live, and who will look after me. I have the
    recommendation of my school teacher, and several other
    gentlemen, which I will show you if you wish. If you will try
    me, I will endeavor to give satisfaction. You can find me at No.
    —, —— Street.

                        “Yours, respectfully,

                             “HENRY E. HOYT.”

“Why, Mr. Preston, I know that boy!” exclaimed Clinton, as soon as his
eye rested upon the above signature; “and I think he’s a good boy, too.”

“Ah!” said Mr. Preston; “what do you know about him?”

“I don’t really _know_ much about him,” replied Clinton; “but I liked
his appearance. I got acquainted with him on the Common, a week or two
ago, and I went up to the top of the State House with him. He told me he
came from Dracut, and lived with his brothers, and was trying to get a
place. This must be the same boy.”

“Is that all you know about him?” inquired Mr. Preston, with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” replied Clinton; “but he _looked_ like a good boy, and his
letter reads well, too. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Preston; “and, as you were so well impressed by him,
I think I will see him, at any rate, before I engage a boy.”

“And if he gets the place, he must thank you for it, Clinton,” said
Whistler.

“No, it will be owing to his writing such a good letter,” replied
Clinton. “If he had made such a bungling piece of work as that other boy
did, I wouldn’t have owned him as an acquaintance.”

Thus the evening passed away in pleasant conversation, and all seemed
sorry when the stroke of the clock announced the hour at which Whistler
and his cousin were obliged to leave.

                             CHAPTER XVII.

                           A WATER EXCURSION.

THE next Saturday Whistler came home from school in great haste, at
noon, and informed his mother that several of his young associates were
going to get a sailboat and take a cruise in the harbor, immediately
after dinner, and had invited him to go with them. Each boy was to pay a
small sum for the use of the boat, the amount of which assessment would
depend upon the number in the party. Whistler was quite anxious to go
with them, and he knew Clinton would be, also, although he had not been
able to find him since school was dismissed. The day was calm and
pleasant, the boys who were going were of good character, several of
them understood managing a boat, and they could not help having a good
time. Such was Whistler’s story.

But his mother was not at all pleased with the project. She did not
consider it safe for a party of such boys to venture upon the water,
without a man capable of managing the boat. Whistler argued and pleaded,
but could not change her mind. She finally told him that she should not
give her consent to his going, and wished he would abandon the idea; but
added that, if he was very anxious to go, he might ask his father’s
permission, and if it was granted she should say nothing more about it.

As Mr. Davenport generally dined down town when business was pressing,
Whistler started at once for his office. He found his father deeply
engaged with several gentlemen, and some time elapsed before he could
get even a look from him. After a while the busy lawyer stepped aside,
and, telling his son to “speak quick,” listened to his request. He asked
a question or two about the boys who were going, and, taking a handful
of change from his pocket, gave Whistler enough to pay for himself and
Clinton, and told him they might go with the party.

Whistler hastened home, and informed his mother of his success; but she
kept her promise, and said nothing about the matter, although he tried
hard to draw from her some modification of her judgment. Soon one of the
boys who was getting up the party called to see whether Whistler was
going. For a moment he was in doubt what reply to make. He could not
consult Clinton, who had not yet returned. He wanted to go very much,
but he did not wish to set at defiance the known wishes of his mother.
He soon, however, made up his mind what to do. After a short but severe
struggle in his mind, he told the boy that he should not go. When
Clinton came in, and was informed of the affair, he appeared to be
satisfied with Whistler’s decision, though it was no less a
disappointment to him than to his cousin.

“Well, boys, you have got back in good season from your excursion,” said
Mr. Davenport, when he came home from his business that afternoon.

“We didn’t go,” replied Whistler.

“Didn’t go!—how happened that?” inquired his father.

“Mother didn’t want us to go, and so I thought we had better give it
up,” replied Whistler.

“That was a good reason,—a very good reason,” said his father. “On the
whole, I think your mother was about right. It isn’t safe for a lot of
boys to go on the water alone; and I was sorry, five minutes afterwards,
that I consented to your going.”

There the matter dropped; but the regard Whistler had manifested for his
mother’s wishes was not forgotten by either of his parents. It was
talked over when they were alone, and it was determined to reward him in
some way for his self-denying decision. The next Monday his mother had
the pleasure of informing him that the whole family were going to sail
in the harbor the following Wednesday, which was his birthday. Mr.
Davenport had chartered a fine yacht[3] for the occasion. Whistler had
liberty to invite the Preston children, and also Marcus, to go with
them; and several other invitations were likewise to be extended.

Footnote 3:

  Pronounced YOT.

Whistler lost no time in spreading the news of this arrangement among
those who were interested. He learned that Marcus and Oscar had intended
to start for Vermont on the day of the proposed excursion; but they were
easily persuaded to postpone their journey for one day, for the sake of
joining the party. Ella and her brothers, Ralph and George, only awaited
their father’s consent to give the invitation a cordial acceptance.
Indeed, so impatient were they, that Ralph proceeded at once to his
father’s store, and obtained the desired permission. Clinton and
Whistler went with him, and the first-named had the gratification of
meeting his chance acquaintance, Henry Hoyt, who had that morning
entered upon the service of Mr. Preston. Henry was not a little
surprised to find that there was so close a connection between his
courtesy to a fellow stranger and the success of his application for a
situation.

Wednesday came, and Whistler was fourteen years old. The accustomed
birthday present from his parents, which had never failed him within his
recollection, was found upon his table when he awoke. It was a plain but
highly-polished rosewood box, filled with implements and materials for
drawing. Everything that a young artist could desire in the pursuit of
his favorite study was here to be found, neatly secured in its own
place. Whistler was delighted with the gift, and assured his parents
that they could not possibly have selected a present that would have
pleased him better.

After breakfast, active preparations were made for the excursion; and
promptly, at the hour appointed, all of the company invited were
assembled upon the wharf where the yacht lay. The “Echo,” as she was
called, was rigged as a sloop,—that is, she had but one mast, and a
bowsprit. She was of about twenty-five tons burden, and looked quite
small by the side of the huge ships of ten or twelve hundred tons which
surrounded and overshadowed her. While these leviathans towered high
above the wharves, the modest Echo sat so low in the water that the
party had to go down a ladder to reach her deck. She was a neat, trim,
and graceful craft, however, and everything about her was scrupulously
clean. A blue pennant was flying from her masthead.

The party seated themselves in the stern of the yacht, where they found
very good accommodations, while the skipper and his two men—who
constituted the whole crew—took their positions forward. Having cast off
their lines, they hoisted the jib, and began to push out from the wharf.
Both the wind and tide were contrary, and it required some nautical
skill to get out into the stream. Once clear from the wharf, the first
thing they did was to run into a small row-boat, and the next was to
thump against the side of a large steamboat which lay at the opposite
wharf. No harm was done, however; and, after a few unintelligible orders
from the skipper,—who had now taken his post at the helm,—they swung
clear of every obstacle, the mainsail was hoisted, and they were under
way.

The wind being in an easterly direction, the yacht was obliged to “beat
out,” as it is called; that is, instead of taking a direct course for
the outer harbor, she had to sail in zigzag lines, approaching very
gradually towards the point to which she was bound. The first “tack,” as
the sailors term the course of a ship when beating against the wind,
took the Echo close to the shore of East Boston. A large steamship, just
arrived from Europe, was entering her berth; and, at the request of
several of the party, the captain of the yacht sailed up to within a few
yards of her, giving all on board a fine opportunity to inspect the huge
and stately leviathan. What an impression of strength and beauty, of
gigantic power and indescribable grace, did they derive, as they gazed
up from their frail and tiny craft upon the towering walls of this ocean
monster! A crowd was assembled upon the wharf, awaiting the landing of
the passengers; and several small boats were hovering around, drawn
thither, probably, like the Echo, by curiosity. Altogether, it was a
very lively and interesting scene. After sailing slowly by the
steamship, the Echo was put upon a new tack, heading towards the
opposite side of the stream. In taking these tacks from one side to the
other, considerable skill was required to steer clear of the numerous
vessels of all sorts that were lying in the course of the yacht.

“Beautiful!” “charming!” “splendid!” were exclamations that frequently
arose above the general buzz of conversation, in the stern, as the Echo
glided smoothly over the waters. Nor were these extravagant terms; for a
sail down Boston harbor, on such a day, and in such a craft, is one of
the pleasantest excursions that can be imagined. But, while some of the
party were enjoying the beautiful views that presented themselves,
others, and especially the boys, were engaged in watching their boat,
and in examining its various appointments.

“What queer seats these are! What is the object of making them in that
shape?” inquired Clinton, as he examined a stool that was shaped
somewhat like an hour-glass, and was made of tin, and painted, with the
name of the yacht inscribed upon it.

“That is a life-preserver, as well as a stool,” replied Whistler. “If
any one should fall overboard, they would throw him one of these stools,
and that would keep his head above water till they could get him out.”

“Now, look out for your heads, ladies, if you please!” said the captain,
as he was about to swing the boom around to the other side of the boat,
for the purpose of changing the tack.

“No matter about the gentlemen’s heads!” said Whistler; and, suiting the
action to the word, he sat upright until the boom came upon him, and
then, dodging it a little too late, it took his hat from his head, and,
but for a quick movement on his part, would have sent it whirling into
the water.

“If you had sat still a moment longer, Willie, we might have had an
opportunity to experiment with one of these life-preservers,” said
Marcus.

“I know it,” replied Whistler; “and I’m not going to stay here and be
knocked round in this way! Come, boys, let’s go down into the cabin.”

Several of the party accepted Whistler’s invitation. The cabin occupied
the middle part of the boat. Of course it was a rather small apartment;
but, for all that, there was a good deal in it. Every available inch of
room was fully improved. It was only about five feet high,—not high
enough to allow Marcus and Oscar to stand up straight. A permanent table
ran nearly the whole length, with leaves that dropped down when not in
use. There was a raised edge around the table, to keep the dishes from
sliding off when the sea is rough. The mast came up through the table,
but was handsomely paneled, and, but for its decided slant, might have
passed for a pillar. A castor and a basket full of tumblers were hanging
over the table, and benches were placed on each side of it.

The cabin was also fitted up with berths, very much like the one which
Whistler occupied on board the steamboat, on his journey to Brookdale.
There were four of them on each side, and they were furnished with neat
white bedding. Under each berth there was a locker, for stowing away
clothing, &c. The cabin was lighted by the doorway, and by a skylight,
which was raised a little above the level of the deck.

Forward of the cabin, and connected with it by a door, was the
cook-room. It contained a cooking-stove, with a bright brass railing
around the top, to keep things in their places. The funnel went up
through the deck. A man was kindling a fire, and as the room seemed too
small to hold two at once, the boys did not go in.

Returning to the deck, the boys found that they were off Fort
Independence (Castle Island), distant a little more than two miles from
the city. The view was now very fine. The numerous islands of the harbor
began to appear, and glimpses of the ocean were obtained between their
green and sunny slopes. Several vessels, availing themselves of a
favorable wind, were entering the port in gallant style. Among them was
a noble ship, returning from a distant voyage. But few of her sails were
spread, yet she dashed through the waters with such grace and speed that
the boys could not refrain from giving her three cheers as she passed
their boat. The compliment was promptly returned by the sailors.

The next object of interest that the Echo passed was the Long Island
Light, distant about five miles from the city. The air was now growing
uncomfortably cool, and the captain brought up from the cabin a quantity
of shawls, hoods, old hats, &c., which he said he kept expressly for
company. They were gratefully accepted; and the sudden outward
transformation which the party underwent, furnished no little food for
merriment.

At noon, the captain invited the company to take something to eat. On
descending to the cabin, they found the table spread with a variety of
eatables. There were boiled ham, and tongue, and eggs; pies, crackers,
and bread; sardines, olives, and pickles; hot coffee and tea, and
genuine Cochituate, fresh, not from the pipes, but from an ice-tank.
There is nothing like snuffing the sea air to give one an appetite; and
the plain, substantial fare disappeared very rapidly from the table.
Before the meal was concluded, however, Ella and one or two others left
the table rather suddenly. Oscar, who was more of a sailor than any of
the rest, rallied his sister on her prompt acknowledgment of the claims
of Neptune; but she protested that she did not feel at all sick. Very
possibly she would, though, had she remained below a little longer. The
fresh air revived her, and the slight nausea she began to experience in
the cabin soon passed away.

The Echo was now seven miles out, but had, in reality, sailed
twenty-five miles in making that distance. The broad ocean was in full
view, studded with sails, and the sea was much rougher than it was
before dinner. A large steamship was soon discovered, threading its way
out from among the islands. It was watched with much interest by all,
and as it passed near them they had a good view of it. It proved to be a
screw steamer; that is, instead of paddle-wheels on the sides, the power
was applied to a propeller under the ship’s keel. She presented a noble
and substantial appearance as she sailed down the harbor, impelled by an
invisible power, and seemed strong enough to withstand any shock that
she might encounter on the ocean. A clipper ship, outward bound, also
passed near them, having most of her canvas spread, and was an object of
scarcely less interest than the steamship.

The yacht was now approaching George’s Island, where the party had
decided to land. This island, which is the key to the outer harbor,
commanding the open sea, belongs to the United States, and contains one
of the most extensive and costly fortifications in the country. The
fortress, however, is in an unfinished state. As they drew near to the
island, they found that it was surrounded by a sea wall, composed of
immense blocks of granite. This is necessary, to prevent the washing
away of the island in the furious storms which sweep over the coast. The
winds and waves have made sad inroads upon the islands in the harbor,
even within the memory of many now living. It is said that the breakers
now roll where large herds of cattle were pastured seventy-five years
ago.

Having landed at the wharf, the party walked up towards the fort, which
is named after General Warren. Immense walls of granite, of the purest
quality and smoothest finish, towered above them. On the top of the
walls were banks of earth, neatly sodded. The road led them to a
substantial stone gateway, which was open, and they accordingly entered
it. They now found themselves in a narrow passageway, with high walls on
either side. There were many long and narrow openings in the walls,
through which muskets could be fired, should an enemy succeed in
landing, and try to take the fort. An invading force, hemmed in by the
walls, would receive a dreadful raking from these loopholes before they
could get inside of the fortress.

On reaching the interior of the fortification they found themselves in a
large area. The captain of the yacht, who acted as their guide, informed
them that twelve acres were enclosed, and three more were occupied by
the walls. There were several workshops and a large dwelling-house
within the enclosure. As they were examining the fine specimens of
masonry which the walls presented, a gentleman wearing the uniform of an
army officer came up to them, and politely offered to show them over the
fortress. His offer was gratefully accepted.

“We will first ascend the parapets, if you please,” said the officer,
leading the way towards a long flight of stone steps.

“Work seems to be suspended here,” remarked Mr. Davenport, as they
passed several ox-carts that were covered with rust.

“Yes, sir,” replied the officer; “the appropriation is exhausted, and
nothing has been done here for several months.”

“This place will have cost Uncle Sam some money, when it is finished,”
continued Mr. Davenport.

“Something over a million of dollars, probably,” replied the officer.

“Well, perhaps it will be worth that money, in case of war,” said Mr.
Davenport; “but it strikes me that fighting is a pretty costly
business.”

“O, what a splendid view!” was the general exclamation, as the party
reached the top of the parapet.

“You perceive that the whole harbor is completely commanded by the
fort,” continued the officer. “Here, within a pistol shot, is the main
channel, through which all large vessels must pass as they enter or
leave the harbor. If an enemy’s ship were to try to pass here, after the
fort is mounted, we could bring from a hundred to a hundred and fifty
guns to bear upon her, at the same time, at any point.”

They continued their walk upon the top of the parapet for some minutes,
enjoying the fine view to be had on every side. It is here that the
heaviest guns are designed to be placed, in the open air. Large square
stones are set for the guns to rest upon, and semi-circular ones for the
gun carriages to traverse. There is also a wall, behind which the men
can hide.

On descending from the parapet, the officer unlocked a door, and,
through a rather gloomy passage, led them into the interior of the
fortress. Here they wandered for a quarter of an hour through a
labyrinth of massive masonry, gazing with wonder at the solid walls, the
arched stone roof, and the long series of rooms connected by doors. They
found but one gun mounted, but that served to illustrate the principle
on which the cannon are intended to work. The port-holes are so shaped
that the guns are allowed a wide range, and yet there is little room for
shot to enter from without. They have an inner and an outer flare, being
narrowest in the centre of the wall. That part of the carriage farthest
from the muzzle has a sideway motion, so that the gun may be readily
pointed in any direction required. The fort will mount about three
hundred guns.

Besides the gun-rooms there are a large number of other apartments, to
which the party were introduced. Some of them are intended for
ante-rooms, into which the soldiers may retire. They have fireplaces,
and will doubtless wear an air of comfort and cheerfulness when finished
and furnished. Other apartments, designed as parlors for the officers,
are still more expensively finished. There are also kitchens,
sleeping-rooms, magazines, cells for prisoners, &c.

“This must be one of the finest fortresses in the country,” said Mr.
Davenport, as they came out once more into the open air.

“Yes, sir, it is,” replied the officer. “It is impregnable from sea;
but, if it could be attacked by land, it might be blown to pieces, after
a while. No masonry is solid enough to be proof against efficient land
batteries,—that was proved at Sebastopol.”

“Well,” said Mr. Davenport, “the worst wish I have for Uncle Sam is that
he may never have occasion to use this immense fortress.”

“I heartily join you in that wish, in spite of my profession,” replied
the officer; and he then politely took leave of them.

Warmly thanking their guide for his attentions, the party hastened to
their boat, and were soon on their way back. The wind had died away, and
their progress homeward was not very rapid. The skipper evidently felt
somewhat concerned for the credit of his craft. He declared that she was
a swift sailer; but nothing, he said, could sail without wind, or in the
face of a stiff breeze. His equanimity seemed to be still more seriously
disturbed when a large schooner, with a great spread of canvas, came up
behind him, and began to gain upon the Echo. He kept a sharp eye upon
the intruder, as he evidently regarded her; and when she passed the Echo
to the windward, instead of the leeward, he could no longer restrain his
disgust, but remarked to Mr. Davenport, with some warmth:

“A fellow that’ll do that is no gentleman!”

A puzzled look from several of the ladies, who did not understand the
nature of the offence, recalled him to a sense of his dignity, and he
was soon as gallant and as good-natured as usual. In justice to him, it
should be remarked that the schooner, by going to the windward, had
taken the wind out of his sails, which is not considered a very
courteous act among sailors.

The party reached the wharf in safety, and all declared that they never
spent a pleasanter day than in their trip down the harbor.

                             CHAPTER XVIII.

                         LAST DAY OF THE VISIT.

CLINTON remained in Boston about six weeks, or until the middle of
October. During that time he made himself pretty well acquainted with
the city, and visited all the objects of interest in and around it. At
length the last day of his sight-seeing was over, his valise was packed,
and he sat down with his uncle’s family for the last time. It was a cool
evening, and a fire in the grate sent out a cheerful warmth. His uncle
sat near the table, reading the evening newspaper. His aunt was busy
with her needle. Whistler was conning his next morning’s lesson, and
Ettie was showing to kitty the pictures in one of her books, while
Bouncer was asleep upon the mat. Clinton alone sat idle; but he was not
wholly unoccupied. His thoughts were busy, and a feeling of sadness was
stealing over him as the hour of his departure drew near.

After a while Mr. Davenport laid his paper aside, and Whistler took it
up. He glanced over one of its columns with some care, and then said:

“No news from the Susan yet; you will have to go home without Jerry,
Clinton.”

The Susan was the brig in which Jerry Preston sailed. She was now
expected at Boston; and the boys had looked daily in the newspapers for
the intelligence of her arrival. Clinton had some hope that Jerry would
get back in season to return with him to Brookdale; but in this he was
disappointed.

“Well, Whistler, what have you learned to-day?” inquired Mr.
Davenport,—a question which he frequently addressed to his son, in the
evening.

“Let me see,” replied Whistler, slowly. “O, I’ve learned which are the
three hardest words to pronounce in the English language.”

“Ah! what are they?” inquired his father.

“They are, _‘I was mistaken_,’” replied Whistler.

“What is there so very hard to pronounce about them?” inquired his
father, with affected simplicity.

“It isn’t the words that are hard,—it’s the _sentiment_,” replied
Whistler. “Our teacher told us that some great man once said those were
the three hardest words to pronounce in the English language. He told
us, besides, of a great general who was defeated in battle, and who sat
down and wrote to the senate: ‘I have just lost a great battle, and it
was entirely my own fault.’ He said that confession displayed more
greatness than a victory.”

“That is very true,” added Mr. Davenport. “But have you learned to
pronounce the words yourself? If you have, you have learned something
worth knowing.”

“I don’t know,” replied Whistler, with some hesitation.

“The item of knowledge you have picked up to-day,” continued his father,
“will not be of much benefit to you, unless you make a practical use of
it. Your teacher, I suppose, wished to teach you the duty of confessing
your errors. That is one of the hardest things a man ever has to do. It
takes a brave man to confess that he has done wrong, or has embraced
wrong opinions.”

“I’ve learned another thing to-day,” continued Whistler; “I’ve learned
how much meanness there is in the world.”

“Ah, you _have_ made an important acquisition!” said his father. “I’ve
lived in the world forty years, and I haven’t begun to find out all its
meanness yet.”

“Well, if I haven’t found it all out, I’ve found enough,” resumed
Whistler. “This was the way it happened. Two or three boys of our class
came to me, this morning, and wanted me to sign a petition asking the
teacher to give us shorter lessons. About a dozen boys had signed it,
but they wanted me to put my name before theirs, at the head of the
petition, because I was one of the oldest boys. As soon as I found what
it was for, I told them I didn’t think our lessons were too long, and I
shouldn’t sign it. Then they all set upon me, and coaxed and flattered
as hard as they could. They said they were so sure that I would sign it
that they had left a place for my name, and that I should have more
influence with the master than they, &c., &c. And when they found that
that wouldn’t work, then they tried to bully me into it. Nat Clapp said
I needn’t pretend to be a better scholar than the rest of them, for I
had as hard work to get my lessons as any body did. Jo Clark said I
wouldn’t sign it because they didn’t consult me about it before they got
it up. Bill Morehead said I didn’t dare to sign it. I told him I dared
to refuse to sign it, and I thought that was more than some of them
could say. But I can’t tell you half what they said. I got real provoked
at last. I should like to know if I hadn’t as good a right _not_ to sign
that petition as any of them had to sign it? What business had they to
say my motives were bad, because I didn’t please to do just as they
wanted me to?”

“How much boys are like men!” quietly remarked his father.

“But you didn’t sign the petition after all, did you?” inquired Clinton.

“No, that I didn’t,” replied Whistler; “and I was glad enough of it,
too, this afternoon. They couldn’t get but about a third of the class to
sign it, and they left it on the teacher’s desk this noon. He didn’t say
anything about it till just as school was about to be dismissed at
night. Then he told the scholars that he had received a petition for
shorter lessons from a portion of the first class. He said the request
was not only unreasonable, but the petition was disrespectful in tone,
and he considered it insulting. He said most of the boys who had signed
it were the idlest fellows in the class, and, he supposed, they would
like it better if he would give them no lessons at all. But, he said,
there were one or two names on the petition that he was surprised to see
there. He talked pretty hard to them, I can tell you. He said every boy
that had put his name to it deserved to be called out and punished; but
he concluded to let them off, this time, with merely reading their names
aloud to the school. So he read off the list; and if some of the fellows
didn’t feel cheap enough, then I’m no judge, that’s all!”

“Did any body sign it that I know, except Nat?” inquired Clinton.

“Yes, there was one other boy that you know; but I shan’t tell you who
he is,” replied Whistler.

Clinton did not feel much curiosity in the matter, and did not press the
inquiry. The boy referred to was Ralph Preston, who had thoughtlessly
yielded to the solicitations of his comrades, and affixed his name to
the petition, without noticing that it was not couched in respectful
terms. He felt the public reprimand of the act very keenly; and
Whistler, out of friendship for him, kindly abstained from giving any
further notoriety to his error.

“Well, Clinton,” said Mr. Davenport, after a short pause, “you’ve
explored our city pretty thoroughly,—now let us have your judgment upon
it. What do you think of it, on the whole?”

“O, I like it very well!” replied Clinton.

“That is rather faint praise,” observed his uncle.

“I like some things very much,” continued Clinton, “and others I don’t
like so well.”

“On the whole, don’t you feel quite willing to go back to the country?”
inquired his aunt.

“I don’t know but I do,” replied Clinton, with some hesitation.

“I see you haven’t wholly given up the idea of being a merchant, yet,”
remarked his uncle.

“O no, sir, I wasn’t thinking of that!” replied Clinton. “But I should
like to enjoy some of the opportunities that boys have here,—good
schools, and plenty of books, and lectures, and everything else.”

“These privileges or opportunities are very valuable, I know,” added Mr.
Davenport; “but, after all, don’t you know that the making of a man is
not in opportunities, but in himself? If you determine to be a man, the
lack of opportunities will not keep you back. You will work and struggle
till you have overcome every obstacle. On the other hand, if you haven’t
this strong will within, all the opportunities in the world won’t make a
man of you. Indeed, there is such a thing as having too much assistance.
If you set out a tree, and keep forever handling it, and scratching
about it, and trying to help it grow, it won’t come to much. It needs a
little wholesome neglect to teach it to take care of itself. So, if a
man wants to produce a strong, rugged character, he mustn’t go into a
hothouse to do it. Such a thing won’t grow there. So far as I can judge,
Clinton, you are doing very well with your present opportunities. Make
the most of them, and I think you will get along as well as most boys in
the city, to say the least.”

“But I don’t have much time to study,” added Clinton.

“Many men have stored their minds with valuable information,” continued
his uncle, “in odd moments snatched from their labors. Two of the most
learned men, in many respects, that I ever met with, did this. One of
them is Elihu Burritt, the ‘Learned Blacksmith,’ who acquired more
languages at the anvil than I can remember the names of. The other is
Charles C. Frost, of Brattleboro’, Vermont, who deserves to be called
the ‘Learned Shoemaker.’ I must read you a short account of Mr. Frost,
to show you what can be done in _one hour a day_.”

So saying, Mr. Davenport took down a volume from the bookcase, and read
as follows:

    “At fourteen years of age, Mr. Frost left school, and commenced
    learning the trade of a shoemaker. He worked as an apprentice in
    his father’s shop seven years, when he shortly after became
    interested in the business of making and vending shoes, in a
    neat and tasteful shoe store, on his own account. He early
    evinced a love of mathematical science, and has displayed
    talents of no ordinary character in its pursuit. He says, in a
    letter which I have received from him: ‘I early imbibed a love
    of study. I recollect my first acquisitions were in Arithmetic,
    and that the results gave me the highest pleasure. When I
    excelled other boys in the school, my progress was attributed by
    them to some peculiar mathematical talent. But it was not so. I
    boast of no genius. I attribute my success uniformly to more
    study than others gave their lessons or work, and, perhaps, to a
    greater _love_ of study.’ Mr. Frost has found time, not only to
    become master of all existing forms of algebraic numbers, but is
    also familiarly and thoroughly acquainted with Geometry,
    Trigonometry and Astronomy. He is at home in the Modern Calculus
    and in the Principia of Newton, where few of our learned
    professors venture, or feel at ease. Indeed, in mathematical
    science he has made so great attainments that it is doubtful
    whether there can be found ten mathematicians in the United
    States who are capable, in case of his own embarrassment, of
    lending him any relief. Remember that we are speaking of a
    self-taught scholar, and he no genius. Let me tell you how it
    was done. He says: ‘When I went to my trade, at fourteen years
    of age, I formed a resolution, which I have kept till
    now,—extraordinary preventives only excepted,—that I would
    faithfully devote _one hour each day_ to study, in some useful
    branch of knowledge.’ Here is the secret of his success. He is
    now forty-five years of age, and is a married man, the father of
    three children; yet this _one-hour_ rule accompanies him to this
    day. ‘The first book which fell into my hands,’ he says, ‘was
    Hutton’s Mathematics, an English work of great celebrity, a
    complete mathematical course, which I then commenced,—namely, at
    fourteen. I finished it at nineteen, without an instructor. I
    then took up those studies to which I could apply my knowledge
    of Mathematics, as Mechanics and Mathematical Astronomy. I think
    I can say that I possess, and have successfully studied, _all_
    the most approved English and American works on these subjects.’
    After this, he commenced Natural Philosophy and Physical
    Astronomy. Then Chemistry, Geology, and Mineralogy, collecting
    and arranging a cabinet. ‘Next Natural History,’ he says,
    ‘engaged my attention, which I followed up with close
    observations, gleaning my information from a great many sources.
    The works that treat of them at large are rare and expensive.
    But I have a considerable knowledge of Geology, Ornithology,
    Entomology, and Conchology.’ Not only this; he has added to his
    stores of knowledge the whole science of Botany, one of the most
    extensive now pursued, and has made himself completely master of
    it. He has made actual extensive surveys, in his own state, of
    the trees, shrubs, herbs, ferns, mosses, lichens, and fungi. Mr.
    Frost thinks that he may possess the _third_ best collection of
    ferns in the United States. He has also turned his attention to
    Meteorology, and devotes much of his time, as do also Olmstead,
    Maury, Redfield, Smith, Loomis, Mitchell, and many others, to
    acquire a knowledge of the law of storms, and the movements of
    the erratic and extraordinary bodies in the air and heavens. He
    has also been driven to the study of Latin, and reads it with
    great freedom. He has read and owns most of the gifted poets,
    and is, to a considerable extent, familiar with History; while
    his miscellaneous reading has been very extensive. He says of
    his books: ‘I have a library, which I divide into three
    departments,—scientific, religious, literary,—comprising the
    standard works published in this country, containing five or six
    hundred volumes. I have purchased these books, from time to
    time, with money saved for the purpose by some small
    self-denials.’

    “Here, then, we have an account—I assure you it is wholly
    reliable—of one, a plain man of forty-five, who has made the
    compass, so to speak, of the hill of science, studying his HOUR
    a day, when the day’s labor was done, for more than thirty
    consecutive years. He began this one-hour system when he was
    fourteen years old. Behold the result! Here is a man with the
    cares, business, and responsibilities of life on his hands, yet
    a devoted, faithful, successful student; a man who is a profound
    scholar, and yet a plain-spoken, humble, pious, laboring man,
    residing still in his native village, far inland, supporting
    himself by his trade and daily labor, while he is worthy of a
    position as a teacher in one of the best institutions of
    learning in the land.”[4]

Footnote 4:

      “Dreams and Realities in the Life of a Pastor and Teacher.”
      1856.

“There,” resumed Mr. Davenport, closing the book, “you see what a man
can do in only one hour a day, diligently improved. Don’t you think you
might manage to devote that amount of time to study, Clinton?”

“Yes, sir, I suppose I could,” replied Clinton.

“Do you suppose every body could learn as much as Mr. Frost knows, if
they should try as hard?” inquired Whistler.

“I suppose any man of fair natural powers, who should study as earnestly
and perseveringly as he did, would be about as successful,” replied Mr.
Davenport. “But, after all, we must aim at something higher than
success. We cannot all be great, or learned, or rich, or eloquent; but
we can all be what is better,—we can be good men and women. Indeed,
without a good character, all other gifts and acquirements only make a
man the more dangerous. And character, you know, is formed by little and
little. It is the result of a great multitude of little thoughts, and
acts, and emotions, all spun together into a complete fabric. Did you
ever go into a ropewalk, Clinton?”

“Yes, sir; Willie and I went through the ropewalk in the Navy Yard,”
replied Clinton.

“Well,” resumed his uncle, “the process of making character is something
like making a cable. First, there are the little fine fibres of hemp; a
great mass of these, twisted together, become yarn; several yarns make a
strand; three strands make a rope; and three ropes make a small cable. A
fibre of hemp is a very small and weak affair; but twist enough of them
together, and they will hold the largest ship in the gale. So the little
trifling acts and habits of the child seem very insignificant; but,
by-and-by, when they are spun into character, they will become as strong
as cables. Look out now, boys, and see that the little fibres, and
yarns, and strands, are all right; and in due time the great ropes and
cables will appear, and will hold the anchor fast, when you are
overtaken by the storms of life.

“There, I have spun you out quite a speech; and a pretty eloquent one,
too!—eh, Whistler? Well, the fact is, I’ve been addressing a jury this
afternoon, and I haven’t had time to shake the kinks of oratory out of
my tongue, yet. Ettie, darling, did my fine speech put you to sleep?
Never mind,—don’t disturb her. We shall have to follow her example
before long, if we mean to see Clinton off in the morning.”

The family retired at an early hour; and the next morning Clinton bade
them good-by, and set out for Brookdale.

                                THE END.

               New and Popular Series for Boys and Girls.

                           THE AIMWELL STORIES;

         A SERIES OF VOLUMES, ILLUSTRATIVE OF YOUTHFUL CHARACTER,
                AND COMBINING INSTRUCTION WITH AMUSEMENT.

                            BY WALTER AIMWELL,

 Author of “The Boy’s Own Guide,” “Boy’s Book of Morals and Manners,” &c.

                       WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.

The volumes will contain about 300 pages, 16mo, each, bound in cloth,
with gilt backs. Price 63 cents.

☞ Each volume will be complete and independent of itself, but the series
will be connected together by a partial identity of characters,
localities, &c.

The first four volumes of this series are now ready. They are entitled:

     OSCAR; OR, THE BOY WHO HAD HIS OWN WAY.
     CLINTON; OR, BOY-LIFE IN THE COUNTRY.
     ELLA; OR, TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF.
     WHISTLER; OR, THE MANLY BOY. (_Just Published._)
     MARCUS; OR, THE BOY-TAMER. (_In Preparation._)

                         NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

“One of the best series for the young ever written. Every family of
children ought to have them.”—CHICAGO CONGREGATIONAL HERALD.

“They are written with great skill for the tastes and necessities
of children, and they are written conscientiously, with a moral
and Christian effort unobtrusively operative upon every
page.”—CONGREGATIONALIST.

“A better series of books for children were never written. The author
has studied deeply and accurately the feelings, hopes, and thoughts of
youth.”—BOSTON MAIL.

“The boys and girls must be grateful to Master Aimwell. He hits the mark
decidedly. So all of them, within our knowledge, who have read ‘Oscar’
and ‘Clinton,’ pronounce, with one voice, and so they will say after
reading ‘Ella.’”—CHRISTIAN WATCHMAN AND REFLECTOR.

“The author of the ‘Aimwell Stories’ has a happy knack at combining
amusement and instruction. Under the guise of a story, he not only
teaches a moral lesson, which is or ought to be a leading object of
every tale for children, but he gives his readers instruction in
philosophy, geography, and various other sciences. So happily are these
introduced, however, that the youthful reader must learn in spite of
himself.”—BOSTON JOURNAL.

“It is the best series of juvenile books with which we are
acquainted.”—NORTHAMPTON GAZETTE.

“We have spoken repeatedly, and with unqualified commendation, of this
series of juvenile volumes. It would be difficult to exaggerate their
merits as a source of amusement and instruction to children. Full of
interest in subject-matter,—chaste, graphic, and beautiful in
style,—pure and wholly unexceptionable in moral tendency,—we know of no
works in the city more delightful and valuable as gifts to
children.”—AMERICAN PATRIOT.

                          The Aimwell Stories.

                                   I.

           OSCAR; OR, THE BOY WHO HAD HIS OWN WAY. By WALTER
          AIMWELL. With illustrations. 16mo. Cloth, 63 cents.

“So graphic and natural are the incidents of this story, that it must
have been compiled from a real boy-experience.”—N. Y. HOME JOURNAL.

“It is a very fine work. The author writes like one who understands the
springs of youthful action.”—CHICAGO CONG. HERALD.

“This is one of the best books for boys we have ever read.”—BOSTON
TRANSCRIPT.

“Few juvenile books are better designed and executed than
this.”—CHRISTIAN FREEMAN.

“It is one of the Aimwell Series, and is from the same pen with
‘Clinton,’ a book for boys which has had few equals of its kind in any
age.”—NORTON’S LIT. GAZ.

                                  II.

        CLINTON; OR, BOY-LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. By WALTER AIMWELL.
               With illustrations. 16mo. Cloth, 63 cents.

“Well, the boys have read it, and pronounce it ‘first-rate.’ We confirm
their judgment. It enters into the heart of the boy; comprehends his
thoughts, his wishes, and his temptations; mingles in his sports;
stimulates him in his studies, and implants right principles and noble
views. It is a safe book, an entertaining book, and a useful book.”—THE
INDEPENDENT, N. Y.

“We attempted to read this book, but the boys got hold of it, and
morning, noon, and night, they kept hold of it, until one, and another,
and another still, had read it through. If their judgment is worth
anything, the book is capital,—one of the very best of its kind.”—N. Y.
EVANGELIST.

“‘A prime book,’ as we heard a little boy say, who had just got through
with it.”—YOUTH’S COMPANION, BOSTON.

                                  III.

         ELLA; OR, TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF. By WALTER AIMWELL.
               With illustrations. 16mo. Cloth, 63 cents.

“It would be difficult to find a child who would ‘skip over’ any portion
of this volume.”—BOSTON JOURNAL.

“Neatly printed, beautifully illustrated, and most interestingly told.
Such volumes are a public treasure.”—BOSTON POST.

“A capital little work, written with a good purpose, and well calculated
to enforce the moral lessons of the popular author.”—BALLOU’S PICTORIAL.

“One of the best written, most instructive, and entertaining little
stories that has fallen in our way for some time.”—BOSTON TRAVELLER.

                                  IV.

            WHISTLER; OR, THE MANLY BOY. By WALTER AIMWELL.
     With illustrations. 16mo. Cloth, 63 cents. (_Just Published._)

                                   V.

             MARCUS; OR, THE BOY-TAMER. (_In Preparation._)

                     VALUABLE WORKS FOR THE YOUNG.

YOUNG AMERICANS ABROAD; or, Vacation in Europe: the Results of a Tour
  through Great Britain, France, Holland, Belgium, Germany, and
  Switzerland. By JOHN OVERTON CHOULES, D. D., and his PUPILS. With
  Elegant Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.

A highly entertaining work, embracing more real information, such as
every one wishes to know about Europe, than any other book of travels
ever published.

Three intelligent lads, who knew how to use their eyes, accompanied
their tutor on a European tour; and, from a carefully-kept journal, they
wrote out, in a series of letters to a favorite companion in study, at
home, their impressions of the most remarkable places _en route_. The
pencillings are genuine and unaffected, and in all respects form an
interesting and instructive record of travel.—_Sartain’s Magazine._

One of the most instructive and delightful books of the age.—_Southern
Lit. Gaz._

Boys, here is a book that will suit you exactly. It is a series of
letters from certain boys travelling in Europe to their classmates in
this country. It will improve your knowledge and amuse you during long
winter nights.—_Methodist Prot._

It is worth much more than many a larger and more pretentious volume,
for giving a daguerreotype of things abroad.—_Congregationalist._

A beautiful book for young people, unlike any thing we have ever
seen.—_Ch. Ob._

Most interesting book that can be put into the hands of the
young.—_Olive Branch._

The best book of foreign travel for youth to be found in the whole range
of American literature.—_Buffalo Morning Express._

THE ISLAND HOME; or, the Young Castaways. By CHRISTOPHER ROMAUNT, ESQ.
  With Elegant Illustrations. 75 cts.

The best and prettiest book for boys that we have lately seen.—_Boston
Post._

A stirring and unique work. It will interest the _juvenile men_
vastly.—_Olive Br._

Delightful narrative of the adventures of six boys who put to sea in an
open boat, and were drifted to a desert island, where they lived in the
manner of Robinson Crusoe.—_N.Y. Com._

A book of great interest, and one which will be a treat to any
boy.—_Home Circle._

The young will pore over its pages with almost enchanted
interest.—_Transcript._

A modern Robinson Crusoe story, without the dreary solitude of that
famous hero. It will amuse and instruct the young in no ordinary
degree.—_Southern Lit. Gazette._

A story that bids fair to rival the far-famed Robinson Crusoe. We become
as much interested in the Max, Johnny, Arthur, and the rest of the
goodly company, as in the Swiss Family Robinson.—_Sartain’s Magazine._

THE AMERICAN STATESMAN; or, Illustrations of the Life and Character of
  DANIEL WEBSTER, for the Entertainment and Instruction of American
  Youth. By the REV. JOSEPH BANVARD, author of “Plymouth and the
  Pilgrims,” “Novelties of the New World,” “Romance of American
  History,” etc. With elegant Illustrations. 75c.

☞ A work of great interest, presenting a sketch of the most striking and
important events which occurred in the history of the distinguished
statesman, Daniel Webster, avoiding entirely all points of a _political_
character; holding up to view, for the admiration and emulation of
American youth, only his commendable traits of character. It is just
such a work as every American patriot would wish his children to read
and reflect upon.

                    PLEASANT PAGES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE;
             OR, BOOK OF HOME EDUCATION AND ENTERTAINMENT.

BY S. PROUT NEWCOMBE. With numerous Illustrations. 75c.

☞This work is designed for the pleasure and profit of young people; and,
as the title indicates, intended as an aid to Home Education. The great
variety of subjects presented, consisting of Moral Lessons, Natural
History, History, Travels, Physical Geography, Object Lessons, Drawing
and Perspective, Music, Poetry, etc., and withal, so skilfully treated
as to make truth simple and attractive, renders it an admirable family
book for winter evenings and summer days.

A very excellent book. History, philosophy, science, stories, and
descriptions of games are all mingled together, and he who does not like
the compound must be hard to please.—_Post._

Pleasant pages, containing information on a great variety of subjects.
Here we have science and art made plain and captivating. The lessons in
drawing and perspective alone are worth the price of the volume. And
then a thousand questions which the intelligent young mind raises are
here answered.—_Parlor Magazine._

This is indeed a home book of endless amusement.—_Boston Atlas._

An admirable book of home education. We commend it to families.—_Alb.
Spec._

A work admirably adapted to the instruction and amusement of the
young.—_Reg._

A pleasant book, full of all sorts of information upon all sorts of
subjects.—_Jour._

One of the most delightful works for young people we have ever met with.
Few persons, young or old, could examine its pages without gaining
knowledge of a useful kind. It is one of the most successful
combinations of the pleasant with the useful to be found.—_Daily
Advertiser._

A book of not only “pleasant pages,” but of singularly instructive
pages. Even people not so very young might be profited by its
perusal.—_South Boston Gazette._

It presents much solid information, and opens before the young new
fields of observation. The youngsters will clap their hands with
joy.—_Scientific American._

There is a great deal of valuable information communicated in a very
simple and easy way. While it is full of useful instruction to children,
it is also suggestive to those who are called to conduct their
education.—_Puritan Recorder._

We like this book: it is well fitted for the family library. The young
like facts; when these are set forth in a pleasant way, the interest is
greater than fiction ever awakens, unless the fiction is made to appear
like truth.—_Godey’s Ladies’ Book._

THE GUIDING STAR; or, The Bible God’s Message. By LOUISA PAYSON HOPKINS.
  With Frontispiece. 16mo, cloth, 50 cts.

An excellent work to put into the hands of youth. It is written in
conversational style, and opens up most beautifully, and with great
simplicity, the great leading evidences that the Bible contains God’s
message to man. Those seeking after truth will find it worthy of
frequent perusal.—DR. SPRAGUE, _in Albany Spectator_.

We cordially commend the work to parents, children, and Sabbath
schools.—_Cong._

This volume should be in the hands of every youthful reader, and adult
persons would find it not only interesting, but instructive.—_Ch.
Chron._

The popular author of this book has conferred a favor on the public, for
which she deserves something more than _thanks_.—_Ch. Secretary._

One of the most valuable books for youth that we have seen.—_Cong.
Journal._

A book of more than common excellence. How often have we wished that all
the youth of our land might become familiar with its contents.—_Ch.
Mirror._

                 NATIONAL SERIES OF AMERICAN HISTORIES.
                       =By Rev. Joseph Banvard.=

PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS; or, Incidents of Adventures in the History of
  the First Settlers. With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.

When once taken up it will not be laid down without regret until
finished.—_Courier_.

An exceedingly interesting volume.—_Am. Traveller._

Popular reading, particularly adapted to entertain and instruct
youth.—_Mercantile Journal._

Every New Englander, wherever he resides, should own this
book.—_Scientific Am._

An extremely interesting volume, written in a plain but vigorous style,
adapted to the young, but will be read with interest by the older
ones.—_Ch. Freeman._

Highly attractive in style and instructive in matter.—_N. Y. Com. Adv._

NOVELTIES OF THE NEW WORLD; an Account of the Adventures and Discoveries
  of the First Explorers of North America. With numerous Illustrations.
  16mo, cloth, 60 cts.

A series of books which will serve as valuable introductions and
enticements to more extended historical reading.—_Am. Traveller._

It has all the interest of a romance.—_Portland Transcript._

We have seen the boys bend over these pages, unwilling to leave them,
either for play or sleep; and when finished, inquiring anxiously _when
the next_ would come.—_Watchman and Reflector._

Neither too childish for adults, nor yet too difficult of comprehension
for children. They will delight as well as instruct.—_Mercantile
Journal._

Interesting scenes and events in the New World are here brought together
and invested with a charm that is irresistible by old as well as
young.—_Ch. Intelligencer._

ROMANCE OF AMERICAN HISTORY; or, an Account of the Settlement of North
  Carolina and Virginia, embracing the tragic Incidents connected with
  the Spanish Settlements, French Colonies, English Plantation at
  Jamestown, Captivity of Captain Smith, the Adventures of Pocahontas,
  etc. With Illustrations. 60 cents.

All the interest of romance, and the addition of veritable
history.—_Puritan Rec._

It is a most pleasing and instructive book.—_Home Journal._

Interesting as a novel, and a thousand times more profitable
reading.—_Lit. Mes._

Every library should be furnished with this Series of American
Histories.—_N. E. Farmer._

Admirably fitted for family reading, and calculated to interest the
young.—_Trav._

Attractive series of books founded on the early history of our country;
it will make a most valuable addition to all family libraries.—_Arthur’s
Gazette._

No more interesting and instructive reading can be put into the hands of
youth.—_Portland Transcript._

The series will embrace the most interesting and important events which
have occurred in the United States since the settlement of the country.
Each volume to be complete in itself; and yet, when all are published,
they will together form a regular SERIES OF AMERICAN HISTORIES.

                     VALUABLE WORKS FOR THE YOUNG.
                       =BY REV. HARVEY NEWCOMB.=

HOW TO BE A MAN; a Book for Boys, containing Useful Hints on the
  Formation of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts.

“My design in writing has been to contribute something towards forming
the character of those who are to be our future electors, legislators,
governors, judges, ministers, lawyers, and physicians,—after the best
model. It is intended for boys—or, if you please, for _young_ gentlemen,
in early youth.”—_Preface._

“How to be a Man” is an inimitable little volume. We desire that it be
widely circulated. It should be put into the hands of every youth in the
land.—_Tenn. Bap._

HOW TO BE A LADY; a Book for Girls, containing Useful Hints on the
  Formation of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts.

“Having daughters of his own, and having been many years employed in
writing for the young, he hopes to offer some good advice, in an
entertaining way, for girls or misses, between the ages of eight and
fifteen. His object is, to assist them in forming their characters upon
the best model; that they may become well-bred, intelligent, refined,
and good; and then they will be real _ladies_, in the highest
sense.”—_Preface._

Parents will consult the interests of their daughters, for time and
eternity, in making them acquainted with this attractive and most useful
volume.—_N. Y. Evangelist._

        _The following Notices apply to both the above Volumes._

It would be better for the next generation if every youth would “read,
learn, and inwardly digest” the contents of these volumes.—_N. Y.
Commercial._

These volumes contain much matter which is truly valuable.—_Mer.
Journal_.

They contain wise and important counsels and cautions, adapted to the
young, and made entertaining by the interesting style and illustrations
of the author. They are fine mirrors, in which are reflected the
prominent lineaments of the _Christian young gentleman and young lady_.
Elegant presents for the young.—_American Pulpit._

Newcomb’s books are excellent. We are pleased to commend them.—_N. Y.
Obs._

They are books well calculated to do good.—_Phil. Ch. Chronicle._

Common-sense, practical hints on the formation of character and habits,
and are adapted to the improvement of youth.—_Mothers’ Journal._

ANECDOTES FOR BOYS; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative
  of Principles and Character. 18mo, gilt, 42 cts.

ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narratives, illustrative
  of Principles and Character. 18mo, gilt, 42 cts.

Interesting and instructive, without being fictitious. The anecdotes are
many, short, and spirited, with a moral drawn from each, adapted to
every age, condition, and duty of life. We commend them to families and
schools.—_Albany Spectator._

Works of great value, for a truth or principle is sooner instilled into
the youthful heart by an anecdote, than in any other way. They are well
selected.—_Ev’g Gaz._

Nothing has a greater interest for a youthful mind than a well-told
story, and no medium of conveying moral instructions so attractive or so
successful. The influence is far more powerful when the child is assured
that they are _true_. We cannot too strongly recommend them to
parents.—_Western Continent, Baltimore._

                            VALUABLE WORKS.

KNOWLEDGE IS POWER: A VIEW OF THE PRODUCTIVE FORCES OF MODERN SOCIETY,
  and the Results of Labor, Capital, and Skill. By CHARLES KNIGHT.
  American edition, with Additions, by DAVID A. WELLS, Editor “Annual of
  Scientific Discovery,” etc. With numerous Illustrations. 12mo, cloth.
  $1.25.

This work is eminently entitled to be ranked in that class styled “books
for the people.” The author is one of the most popular writers of the
day. His style is easy and racy, sufficiently polished for the most
refined, while it is peculiarly fitted to captivate plain, unlettered,
but thinking men. It is remarkable for its fullness and variety of
information, and for the felicity and force with which the author
applies his facts to his reasoning. The facts and illustrations are
drawn from almost every branch of skilful industry. It is a work, in
short, which the mechanic and artisan of every description will be sure
to read with a RELISH.

MY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS; OR, THE STORY OF MY EDUCATION. By HUGH
  MILLER, Author of “Footprints of the Creator,” etc. 12mo, cloth.
  $1.25.

“This autobiography is quite worthy of the renowned author. His first
attempts at literature, and his career until he stood forth an
acknowledged power among the philosophers and ecclesiastical leaders of
his native land, are given without egotism, with a power and vivacity
which are truthful and delightsome.”—PRESBYTERIAN.

“Hugh Miller is one of the most remarkable men of the age. Having risen
from the humble walks of life, and from the employment of a
stone-cutter, to the highest rank among scientific men, everything
relating to his history possesses an interest which belongs to that of
few living men. The book has all the ease and graphic power which is
characteristic of his writings.”—NEW YORK OBSERVER.

“This volume is a book for the ten thousand. It is embellished with an
admirable likeness of Hugh Miller, the stone mason—his coat off and his
sleeves rolled up—with the implements of labor in hand—his form erect,
and his eye bright and piercing. The biography of such a man will
interest every reader. It is a living thing—teaching a lesson of
self-culture of immense value.”—PHILA. CHRISTIAN OBS.

“It is a portion of autobiography exquisitely told. He is a living proof
that a single man may contain within himself something more than all the
books in the world. This is one of the best books we have read.”—LONDON
CORRESP. N. Y. TRIBUNE.

“It is a work of rare interest; at times having the fascination of a
romance, and again suggesting the profoundest views of education and of
science. The ex-mason holds a graphic pen; a quiet humor runs through
his pages.”—N. Y. INDEPENDENT.

“This autobiography is THE book for poor boys, and others who are
struggling with poverty and limited advantages; and perhaps it is not
too much to predict that in a few years it will become one of the poor
man’s classics.”—NEW ENG. FARMER.

THE HALLIG; OR, THE SHEEPFOLD IN THE WATERS. A Tale of Humble Life on
  the Coast of Schleswig. Translated from the German of Biernatzski, by
  Mrs. GEORGE P. MARSH. With a Biographical Sketch of the Author. 12mo,
  cloth. $1.00.

The author of this work was the grand-son of an exiled Polish nobleman,
His own portrait is understood to be drawn in one of the characters of
the Tale, and indeed the whole work has a substantial foundation in
fact. As a revelation of an entire new phase of human society, it will
strongly remind the reader of Miss Bremer’s tales. In originality and
brilliancy of imagination, it is not inferior to those;—its aim is far
higher. The elegance of Mrs. Marsh’s translation will at once arrest the
attention of every competent judge.

                             AMOS LAWRENCE.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE OF THE LATE AMOS LAWRENCE; with a brief account
  of some Incidents in his Life. Edited by his son, WILLIAM R. LAWRENCE,
  M. D. With fine steel Portraits of AMOS and ABBOTT LAWRENCE, an
  Engraving of their Birth-place, a Fac-simile page of Mr. Lawrence’s
  Handwriting. Octavo, cloth, $1.50. Royal duodecimo edition, $1.00.

This work was first published in an elegant octavo volume, and sold at
the unusually low price of $1.50. At the solicitation of numerous
benevolent individuals who were desirous of circulating the work—so
remarkably adapted to do good, especially to young men—GRATUITOUSLY, and
of giving those of moderate means, of every class, an opportunity of
possessing it, the royal duodecimo, or “CHEAP EDITION,” was issued,
varying from the other edition, only in a reduction in the SIZE
(allowing less margin), and the THICKNESS of the paper.

Within six months after the first publication of this work, TWENTY-TWO
THOUSAND copies had been sold. It is the memoir of a Boston merchant,
who became distinguished for his great wealth, but more distinguished
for the manner in which he used it. It is the memoir of a man, who
commencing business with only $20, gave away in public and private
charities, DURING HIS LIFETIME, more, probably, than any other person in
America.

“We heard it once said in the pulpit, ‘There is no work of art like a
noble life,’ and for that reason he who has achieved one takes rank with
the great artists, and becomes the world’s property. WE ARE PROUD OF
THIS BOOK. WE ARE WILLING TO LET IT GO FORTH TO OTHER LANDS AS A
SPECIMEN OF WHAT AMERICA CAN PRODUCE. In the old world, reviewers have
called Barnum THE characteristic American man. We are willing enough to
admit that he is a characteristic American man; he is ONE fruit of our
soil, but Amos Lawrence is another. Let our country have credit for him
also. THE GOOD EFFECT WHICH THIS LIFE MAY HAVE IN DETERMINING THE COURSE
OF YOUNG MEN TO HONOR AND VIRTUE IS INCALCULABLE.”—MRS. STOWE, IN N. Y.
INDEPENDENT.

“This book, besides being of a different class from most Biographies,
has another peculiar charm. It shows the inside life of the man. You
have, as it were, a peep behind the curtain, and see Mr. Lawrence as he
went in and out among business men, as he appeared on ’Change, as he
received his friends, as he poured out, ‘with liberal hand and generous
heart,’ his wealth for the benefit of others, as he received the
greetings and salutations of children, and as he appeared in the bosom
of his family, at his own hearth-stone.”—BRUNSWICK TELEGRAPH.

“We are glad to know that our large business houses are purchasing
copies of this work for each of their numerous clerks. As a business
man, Mr. Lawrence was a pattern for the young clerk.”—BOSTON TRAVELLER.

“We are thankful for the volume before us. It exhibits a charity noble
and active, while the young merchant was still poor. And above all, it
reveals to us a beautiful cluster of sister graces, a keen sense of
honor, integrity which never knew the shadow of suspicion, candor in the
estimate of character, filial piety, rigid fidelity in every domestic
relation.”—NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW.

“We are glad that American Biography has been enriched by such a
contribution to its treasures. In all that composes the career of ‘the
good man’ and the practical Christian, we have read few memoirs more
full of instruction, or richer in lessons of wisdom and
virtue.”—NATIONAL INTELLIGENCER.

“A more beautifully printed volume, or one calculated to do more good,
has not been issued from the press of late years.”—EVENING GAZETTE.

“This volume has been read with the deepest interest. It will be widely
circulated, will certainly prove a standard work, and be read over and
over again.”—BOSTON DAILY ADVERTISER.

                           CHAMBERS’S WORKS.

CHAMBERS’S CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. A Selection of the choicest
  productions of English Authors, from the earliest to the present time.
  Connected by a Critical and Biographical History. Forming two large
  imperial octavo volumes of 1400 pages, double column letter-press;
  with upwards of 300 elegant Illustrations. Edited by ROBERT CHAMBERS,
  embossed cloth, 5,00.

This work embraces about _one thousand authors_, chronologically
arranged and classed as Poets, Historians, Dramatists, Philosophers,
Metaphysicians, Divines, etc., with choice selections from their
writings, connected by a Biographical, Historical, and Critical
Narrative; thus presenting a complete view of English literature from
the earliest to the present time. Open where you will, you cannot fail
to find matter for profit and delight. The selections are gems—infinite
riches in a little room; “A WHOLE ENGLISH LIBRARY FUSED DOWN INTO ONE
CHEAP BOOK!”

FROM W. H. PRESCOTT, AUTHOR OF “FERDINAND AND ISABELLA.” The plan of the
work is very judicious.... Readers cannot fail to profit largely by the
labors of the critic who has the talent and taste to separate what is
really beautiful and worthy of their study from what is superfluous.

I concur in the foregoing opinion of Mr. Prescott.—EDWARD EVERETT.

A work indispensable to the library of a student of English
literature.—WAYLAND.

We hail with peculiar pleasure the appearance of this work.—_North Am.
Review._

It has been fitly described as “_a whole English library fused down into
one cheap book_.” The Boston edition combines neatness with
cheapness.—_N. Y. Com. Adv._

☞ The American edition contains additional likenesses of SHAKESPEARE,
ADDISON, BYRON; a full length portrait of DR. JOHNSON, and a beautiful
scenic representation of OLIVER GOLDSMITH and DR. JOHNSON. These
important additions, together with superior paper and binding, render
the American far superior to the English edition. The circulation of
this work has been immense, and its sale in this country still continues
unabated.

                            CHAMBERS’S WORKS

CHAMBERS’S MISCELLANY OF USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE. Edited by
  WILLIAM CHAMBERS. With Elegant Illustrative Engravings. Ten volumes,
  16mo, cloth, 7,00.

This work has been highly recommended by distinguished individuals, as
admirably adapted to Family, Sabbath, and District School Libraries.

It would be difficult to find any miscellany superior or even equal to
it; it richly deserves the epithets “useful and entertaining,” and I
would recommend it very strongly as extremely well adapted to form parts
of a library for the young, or of a social or circulating library in
town or country.—GEORGE B. EMERSON, ESQ., CHAIRMAN BOSTON SCHOOL BOOK
COMMITTEE.

I am gratified to have an opportunity to be instrumental in circulating
“Chambers’s Miscellany” among the schools for which I am
superintendent.—J. J. CLUTE, _Town. Sup. of Castleton, N. Y._

I am not acquainted with any similar collection in the English language
that can compare with it for purposes of instruction or amusement. I
should rejoice to see that set of books in every house in our
country.—REV. JOHN O. CHOULES, D. D.

The information contained in this work is surprisingly great; and for
the fireside, and the young, particularly, it cannot fail to prove a
most valuable and entertaining companion.—_N. Y. Evangelist._

An admirable compilation. It unites the useful and entertaining.—_N. Y.
Com._

                           CHAMBERS’S WORKS.

CHAMBERS’S HOME BOOK AND POCKET MISCELLANY. Containing a Choice
  Selection of Interesting and Instructive Reading for the Old and the
  Young. Six vols. 16mo, cloth, 3,00.

This work is considered fully equal, if not superior, to either of the
Chambers’s other works in interest, and, like them, contains a vast fund
of valuable information. Following somewhat the plan of the
“Miscellany,” it is admirably adapted to the school or the family
library, furnishing ample variety for every class of readers, both old
and young.

We do not know how it is possible to publish so much good reading matter
at such a low price. We speak a good word for the literary excellence of
the stories in this work; we hope our people will introduce it into all
their families, in order to drive away the miserable flashy-trashy stuff
so often found in the hands of our young people of both
sexes.—_Scientific American._

Both an entertaining and instructive work, as it is a very cheap
one.—_Puritan Rec._

It cannot but have an extensive circulation.—_Albany Express._

Of all the series of cheap books, this promises to be the best.—_Bangor
Mercury._

If any person wishes to read for amusement or profit, to kill time or
improve it, get “Chambers’s Home Book.”—_Chicago Times._

The Chambers are confessedly the best caterers for popular and useful
reading in the world.—_Willis’s Home Journal._

A very entertaining, instructive, and popular work.—_N. Y. Commercial._

The articles are of that attractive sort which suits us in moods of
indolence when we would linger half way between wakefulness and sleep.
They require just thought and activity enough to keep our feet from the
land of Nod, without forcing us to run, walk, or even stand.—_Eclectic,
Portland._

It is just the thing to amuse a leisure hour, and at the same time
combines _instruction_ with amusement.—_Dover Inquirer._

Messrs. Chambers, of Edinburgh, have become famous wherever the English
language is spoken and read, for their interesting and instructive
publications. They combine _instruction_ with _amusement_, and
throughout they breathe a spirit of the purest morality.—_Chicago
Tribune._

CHAMBERS’S REPOSITORY OF INSTRUCTIVE AND AMUSING PAPERS. With
  Illustrations. An entirely New Series, containing Original Articles.
  p. 260, 16mo, cloth, per vol. 50 cents.

The Messrs. Chambers have recently commenced the publication of this
work, under the title of “CHAMBERS’S REPOSITORY OF INSTRUCTIVE AND
AMUSING TRACTS,” similar in style, etc., to the “Miscellany,” which has
maintained an enormous circulation of more than _eighty thousand copies
in England_, and has already reached nearly the same in this country.
Arrangements have been made by the American publishers, to issue the
work simultaneously with the English edition, a volume every two months,
to continue until the whole series is completed. Each volume complete in
itself, and will be sold in sets or single volumes.

☞ Commendatory Letters, Reviews, Notices, &c., of _each_ of Chambers’s
works, sufficient to make a good sized duodecimo volume, have been
received by the publishers, but room here will only allow giving a
specimen of the vast multitude at hand. They are all popular, and
contain valuable instructive and entertaining reading—such as should be
found in every family, school, and college library.

                             VALUABLE WORK.

CYCLOPÆDIA OF ANECDOTES OF LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS. Containing a
  copious and choice selection of Anecdotes of the various forms of
  Literature, of the Arts, of Architecture, Engravings, Music, Poetry,
  Painting, and Sculpture, and of the most celebrated Literary
  Characters and Artists of different Countries and Ages, &c. By KAZLITT
  ARVINE, A. M., Author of “Cyclopædia of Moral and Religious
  Anecdotes.” With illustrations. 725 pages octavo, cloth, 3,00.

This is unquestionably the choicest collection of anecdotes ever
published. It contains _three thousand and forty Anecdotes_, and such is
the wonderful variety, that it will be found an almost inexhaustible
fund of interest for every class of readers; and to public speakers, to
all classes of _literary_ and _scientific men_, to _artists, mechanics,
and others_, a perfect DICTIONARY, _for reference_. There are also more
than _one hundred and fifty fine Illustrations._

We know of no work which comprises so much valuable information in a
form so entertaining.—_N. Y. Chronicle._

Here is a perfect repository of the most choice and approved specimens
of this species of information. The work is replete with such
entertainment as is adapted to all grades of readers, the most or least
intellectual.—_Methodist Quarterly Magazine._

One of the most complete things of the kind ever given to the public.
There is scarcely a paragraph in the whole book which will not interest
some one deeply; for, while men of letters, argument, and art cannot
afford to do without its immense fund of sound maxims, pungent wit, apt
illustrations, and brilliant examples, the merchant, mechanic and
laborer will find it one of the choicest companions of the hours of
relaxation. “Whatever be the mood of one’s mind, and however limited the
time for reading, in the almost endless variety and great brevity of the
articles he can find something to suit his feelings, which he can begin
and end at once. It may also be made the very life of the social circle,
containing pleasant reading for all ages, at all times and
seasons.”—_Buffalo Com. Advertiser._

A well spring of entertainment, to be drawn from at any moment.—_Bangor
Whig._

A magnificent collection of anecdotes touching literature and the fine
arts.—_Albany Spectator._

The most comprehensive collection of anecdotes ever published.—_Salem
Gazette._

A publication of which there is little danger of speaking in too
flattering terms; a perfect Thesaurus of rare and curious information,
carefully selected and methodically arranged. A jewel of a book to lie
on one’s table, to snatch up in those brief moments of leisure that
could not be very profitably turned to account by recourse to any
connected work in any department of literature.—_Troy Budget._

No family ought to be without it for it is at once cheap, valuable, and
very interesting; containing matter compiled from all kinds of books,
from all quarters of the globe, from all ages of the world, and in
relation to every corporeal matter at all worthy of being remarked or
remembered.—_New Jersey Union._

A rich treasury of thought, and wit and learning, illustrating the
characteristics and peculiarities of many of the most distinguished
names in history.—_Phil. Chris. Obs._

The range of topics is very wide, relating to nature, religion, science,
and art; furnishing apposite illustrations for the preacher, the orator,
the Sabbath-school teacher, and the instructors of our common schools,
academies, and colleges. It is a valuable work for the fireside,
calculated to please and edify all classes.—_Zanesville Ch. Reg._

This is one of the most entertaining works for desultory reading we have
seen. We hardly know of any thing at once so instructive and
amusing.—_N. Y. Ch. Intel._

                     THE CRUISE OF THE NORTH STAR:

  A NARRATIVE OF THE EXCURSION MADE BY MR. VANDERBILT’S PARTY, IN THE
  STEAM YACHT, in her Voyage to England, Russia, Denmark, France, Spain,
  Italy, Malta, Turkey, Madeira, etc. By Rev. JOHN OVERTON CHOULES, D.
  D. With elegant Illustrations, and fine Likenesses of Commodore
  Vanderbilt and Capt. Eldridge. 12mo, cloth, gilt backs and sides.
  $1.50.

The cruise of the North Star was an event of almost national concern,
and was watched with universal interest. This volume is as different
from ordinary books of travel as the cruise of the North Star was
different from an ordinary trip to Europe. We need not bespeak for it
many readers.—_Providence Jour._

The American people ought to be proud of, and grateful to, Cornelius
Vanderbilt. This man has done more than a dozen presidents to give
America a respected name in Europe. In the person of Cornelius
Vanderbilt, American enterprise told the people of Europe what it could
do. The desire to get this curious narrative was so great that the whole
of the first edition went off in two days!—_Star of the West._

Those who remember to have met with a very interesting work, published
some two years ago, entitled “Young Americans Abroad,” will be glad to
learn that here is another book of travels from the same source. Do you
say your shelves are all full of books of travel?—we reply, with Leigh
Hunt,—then put in another shelf, and place this one on it—_Methodist
Protestant._

The work is one of the most entertaining, and, in its way, vivid,
portraitures of scenes in the Old World, that we have ever seen.—_Boston
Transcript._

The book is in many respects as novel as the occasion which produced it
was unique and memorable. Both the accomplished author and the
publishers deserve the best thanks for so tasteful a record of a
performance which has reflected so much credit abroad upon American
enterprise.—_N. Y. Courier & Enquirer._

This work is interesting, not only as a memorial of the North Star, and
her trip to Europe, but also as a record of European travel, narrated in
a lively manner, by a gentleman whose taste and attainments eminently
qualify him for the task.—_New York Times._

Never before did a private individual make so magnificent an excursion
as Mr. Vanderbilt. Dr. Choules, who was one of his guests, has given to
the world a charming account of this unique voyage, in a beautifully
printed and illustrated volume. We commend it to our readers as a very
entertaining, well-written book.—_Zion’s Herald._

The book will be eagerly perused, as a record of one of the unique
occurrences of the age; is written with a kind of drawing-room,
etiquette-like style, is mellow in sentiment, and is wholly destitute of
that straining after the sublime, and stranding in the “high-falutin,”
that characterize the effusions of the tourist generally.—_Chicago
Advertiser._

This beautiful volume describes, in a chaste and readable manner, the
fortunes of the widely-known excursion of the princely New York
merchant and his family and guests. From the eclat of the voyage
itself, and the pleasant way of Dr. Choules’ account of it, we think
the book is destined to have—what it deserves—a very large
sale.—_Congregationalist._

                          MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS
                       OF ENGLAND AND ITS PEOPLE.

BY HUGH MILLER, author of “Old Red Sandstone,” “Footprints of the
  Creator,” etc., with a fine likeness of the author. 12mo, 1,00.

Let not the careless reader imagine, from the title of this book, that
it is a common book of travels, on the contrary, it is a very remarkable
one, both in design, spirit, and execution. The facts recorded, and the
views advanced in this book, are so fresh, vivid, and natural, that we
cannot but commend it as a treasure, both of information and
entertainment.—_Willis’s Home Journal._

This is a noble book, worthy of the author of the Footprints of the
Creator and the Old Red Sandstone, because it is seasoned with the same
power of vivid description, the same minuteness of observation, and
soundness of criticism, and the same genial piety. We have read it with
deep interest, and with ardent admiration of the author’s temper and
genius. It is almost impossible to lay the book down, even to attend to
more pressing matters. It is, without compliment or hyperbole, a most
delightful volume.—_N. Y. Commercial._

This is a most amusing and instructive book, by a master hand.—_Dem.
Rev._

The author of this work proved himself, in the Footprints of the
Creator, one of the most original thinkers and powerful writers of the
age. In the volume before us he adds new laurels to his reputation.
Whoever wishes to understand the character of the present race of
Englishmen, as contradistinguished from past generations; to comprehend
the workings of political, social, and religious agitation in the minds,
not of the nobility or gentry, but of the _people_, will discover that,
in this volume, he has found a treasure.—_Peterson’s Magazine._

His eyes were open to see, and his ears to hear, every thing; and, as
the result of what he saw and heard in “merrie” England, he has made one
of the most spirited and attractive volumes of travels and observations
that we have met with.—_Trav._

Hugh Miller is one of the most agreeable, entertaining, and instructive
writers of the age. We know of no work in England so full of adaptedness
to the age as this. It opens up clearly to view the condition of its
various classes, sheds new light into its social, moral, and religious
history, its geological peculiarities, and draws conclusions of great
value.—_Albany Spectator._

The author, one of the most remarkable men of the age, arranged for this
journey into England, expecting to “lodge in humble cottages, and wear a
humble dress, and see what was to be seen by humble men only,—society
without its mask.” Such an observer might be expected to bring to view a
thousand things unknown, or partially known before; and abundantly does
he fulfil this expectation. It is one of the most absorbing books of the
time.—_Portland Ch. Mirror._

                                -------

                               NEW WORK.
                     MY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS;
                     OR THE STORY OF MY EDUCATION.

BY HUGH MILLER, author of “Footprints of the Creator,” “Old Red
  Sandstone,” “First Impressions of England,” etc. 12mo, cl.

This is a personal narrative of a deeply interesting and instructive
character, concerning one of the most remarkable men of the age. No one
who purchases this book will have occasion to regret it, our word for
it!

                         A PILGRIMAGE TO EGYPT;
             EMBRACING A DIARY OF EXPLORATIONS ON THE NILE,

WITH OBSERVATIONS, illustrative of the Manners, Customs, and
  Institutions of the People, and of the present condition of the
  Antiquities and Ruins. By J. V. C. SMITH, M. D., Editor of the Boston
  Medical and Surgical Journal. With numerous elegant Engravings. 1,25.

There is a lifelike interest in the narratives and descriptions of Dr.
Smith’s pen, which takes you along with the traveller, so that when he
closes a chapter you feel that you have reached an inn, where you will
rest for a while; and then, with a refreshed mind, you will be ready to
move on again, in a journey full of fresh and instructive incidents and
explorations.—_Ch. Witness._

Every page of the volume is entertaining and instructive, and even those
who are well read in Egyptian manners, customs, and scenery, cannot fail
to find something new.—_Mercantile Journal._

This volume is neither a re-hash of guide books, nor a condensed
mensuration of heights and distances from works on Egyptian antiquities.
It contains the daily observations of a most intelligent traveller,
whose descriptions bring to the reader’s eye the scenes he witnessed. We
have read many books on Egypt, some of them full of science and
learning, and some of wit and frolic, but _none which furnished so clear
an idea of Egypt as it is_,—of its ruins as they now are, and of its
people as they now live and move.—_Watchman and Reflector._

One of the most agreeable books of travel which have been published for
a long time.—_Daily Advertiser._

It is readable, attractive, and interesting. You seem to be travelling
with him, and seeing the things which he sees.—_Bunker Hill Aurora._

We see what Egypt was; we see what Egypt is; and with prophetic
endowment we see what it is yet to be. It is a charming book, not
written for antiquarians and the learned, but for the _million_, and by
the million it will be read.—_Congregationalist._

Mr. Smith is one of the sprightliest authors in America, and this work
is worthy of his pen. He is particularly happy in presenting the comical
and grotesque side of objects.—_Commonwealth._

The reader may be sure of entertainment in such a land, under the
guidance of such an observer as Dr. Smith, and will be surprised, when
he has accompanied him through the tour, at the vivid impression which
he retains of persons, and places, and incidents.—_Salem Gazette._

This is really one of the most entertaining books upon Egypt that we
have met with.—_Albany Argus._

One of the most complete and perfect books of the kind ever
published.—_Diadem._

Of all the books we have read on Egypt, we prefer this. It goes ahead of
Stephens’s. Reader, obtain a copy for yourself.—_Trumpet._

The author is a keen observer, and describes what he observes with a
graphic pen. The volume abounds in vivid descriptions of the
manners, customs, and institutions of the people visited, the
present condition of the ancient ruins, accompanied by a large
number of illustrations.—_Courier._

SCRIPTURE NATURAL HISTORY; Containing a Descriptive Account of
  Quadrupeds, Birds, Fishes, Insects, Reptiles, Serpents, Plants, Trees,
  Minerals, Gems, and Precious Stones, mentioned in the Bible. By
  WILLIAM CARPENTER, London; with Improvements, by REV. GORHAM D.
  ABBOTT. Illustrated by numerous Engravings. Also, Sketches of
  Palestine. 12mo, cloth, 1,00.

                       THE CAPTIVE IN PATAGONIA;
                       OR LIFE AMONG THE GIANTS.
    By BENJAMIN F. BOURNE. With Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, 85 cts.

This work, by Captain Bourne,—who was taken captive and retained three
months by the Patagonians,—gives an account of his capture and final
escape; a description of this strange people; their manners, customs,
habits, pursuits; the country, its soil productions, etc., of which
little or nothing has heretofore been known. ☞ A work of thrilling
interest, and of instruction to every class of readers.

Any book, descriptive of a country which is almost like fable land to
the civilized world, must possess great interest; but this work, besides
having _this_ attraction, is written with much vigor and spirit, and is
replete with a variety of interesting facts, descriptive of the manners,
customs, character, etc., of the Patagonians.—_Sav. Jour._

A work of thrilling interest, and bids fair to be another Uncle Tom’s
Cabin. Captain Bourne is well known and highly respected in this
community; and the narrative of his strange adventures, startling and
romantic as they may seem, can be relied upon as strictly
true.—_Nantucket Eagle._

We have seldom read a work of such intense interest.—_N. H. Sentinel._

This is a narrative of great interest—_Phil. Ch. Observer._

We question whether the scenes, trials, hardships, adventures, etc.,
could have been more vividly drawn had they emanated from the pen of an
IRVING or a COOPER.—_Rutland (Vt.) Herald._

The author is known as a respectable man, and one of high integrity; and
from his own experience has given particulars of the manners, customs,
habits, and pursuits of the natives. It is a thrilling narrative, and as
exciting as Typee.—_Newport Merc._

No work of romance can exceed to enchain the mind and awaken
interest.—_Cong._

Seldom, if ever, have we perused a work with so intense an interest. No
work of romance can excel it in power to enchant the mind, and awaken a
nervous desire to possess the valuable information which it
communicates.—_Amherst Express._

Having begun it one evening, we would not quit until the book had been
finished.—_Montpelier Journal._

Uncle Tom may stand aside for the present. Mrs. Stowe may herself, as
well as her readers, listen to the tale of a New Bedford sailor. His
narrative is one that cannot fail to move both to smiles and
tears,—containing touches of the broadest and most genial humor, as well
as passages of simple pathos, which dissolve the soul in sympathy.—_B.
H. Aurora._

Possessing all the interest of real adventure, with all the
attractiveness of romance, we do not wonder at its popularity.—_Boston
Atlas._

We have never before perused any personal narrative that has interested
us as this one.—_Fountain and Journal, Me._

We have scarcely been able to leave its attractive pages. If the reader
wishes to be amused, instructed, delighted, and benefited, he cannot do
better than to procure a copy.—_Gardiner Evening Transcript._

THE HISTORY OF BANKING; with a Comprehensive Account of the Origin,
  Rise, and Progress of the Banks of England, Ireland, and Scotland. By
  WILLIAM JOHN LAWSON. First American Edition. Revised, with numerous
  additions. By J. SMITH HOMANS, Editor of Bankers’ Magazine. 1 vol.
  octavo, 2,00.

☞ A novel book, yet interesting and instructive; containing anecdotes of
men who have figured largely in the business, cases of forgeries,
counterfeits, detections, trials, etc.

                           WORKS JUST ISSUED.

VISITS TO EUROPEAN CELEBRITIES. By WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D. 12mo,
  cloth. $1.00.

It consists of a series of Personal Sketches, DRAWN FROM LIFE, of many
of the most distinguished men and women of Europe, with whom the author
became acquainted in the course of several European tours. They are
portrayed as the author saw them in their own homes, and under the most
advantageous circumstances. Accompanying the sketches are the AUTOGRAPHS
of each of the personages described. This unique feature of the work
adds in no small degree to its attractions. For the social circle, for
the traveller by railroad and steamboat, for all who desire to be
refreshed and not wearied by reading, the book will prove to be a most
agreeable companion. The public press, of all shades of opinion, north
and south, have given it a most flattering reception.

THE STORY OF THE CAMPAIGN. A Complete Narrative of the War in Southern
  Russia. Written in a Tent in the Crimea. By Major E. BRUCE HAMLEY,
  author of “Lady Lee’s Widowhood.” With a new Map, expressly for the
  work. 12mo. Thick. Printed paper covers. 37½ cents.

CONTENTS.—The Rendezvous; The Movement to the Crimea; First Operations
in the Crimea; Battle of the Alma; The Battle-field; The Katcha and the
Balbek; The Flank March; Occupation of Balaklava; The Position before
Sebastopol; Commencement of the Siege; Attack on Balaklava; First Action
of Inkerman; Battle of Inkerman; Winter on the Plains; Circumspective;
The Hospitals on the Bosphorus; Exculpatory; Progress of the Siege;
Burial Truce; View of the Works.

It is the only connected and continuous narrative of the War in Europe
that has yet appeared. The author is an officer of rank in the British
army, and has borne an active part in the campaign; he has also won a
brilliant reputation as an author. By his profession of arms, by his
actual participation in the conflict, and by his literary abilities, he
is qualified in a rare degree for the task he has undertaken. The
expectations thus raised will not be disappointed.

TRAGIC SCENES IN THE HISTORY OF MARYLAND AND THE OLD FRENCH WAR. With an
  account of various interesting contemporaneous events which occurred
  in the early settlement of America. By JOSEPH BANVARD, A. M. With
  numerous elegant Illustrations. 12mo, cloth. 60 cents.

“The volume is one of a series by the same author, and all those who
have purchased its predecessors will be sure to buy the present
work.”—HARTFORD PRESS.

“We commend the work to our readers as a capital one for the instruction
as well as the amusement of youth.”—BOSTON ATLAS.

                      ----------------------------

☞ G. & L. would call attention to their extensive list of publications,
embracing valuable works in THEOLOGY, SCIENCE, LITERATURE AND ART; TEXT
BOOKS FOR SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES, and MISCELLANEOUS, etc., in large
variety, the productions of some of the ablest writers and most
scientific men of the age, among which will be found those of Chambers,
Hugh Miller, Agassiz, Gould, Guyot, Marcou, Dr. Harris, Dr. Wayland, Dr.
Williams, Dr. Ripley, Dr. Kitto, Dr. Tweedie, Dr. Choules, Dr. Sprague,
Newcomb, Banvard, “Walter Aimwell,” Bungener, Miall, Archdeacon Hare,
and others of like standing and popularity, and to this list they are
constantly adding.

 ● Transcriber’s Notes:
    ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
    ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
    ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
      when a predominant form was found in this book.
    ○ Text that:
      was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_);
      was in bold by is enclosed by “equal” signs (=bold=).