CALLS AND CARDS.
Home, the dearest spot on earth, would be no fit abode for social beings if closed against the entrance and friendly offices of those without. The courtesies and kindness of neighbors must be received and reciprocated to make the home comforts complete. By simple methods the most important amicable relations in society are established and maintained.
Calls may be distinguished as ceremonious or friendly. The latter among intimate friends may, and ought to be quite informal, and for them no rules need be prescribed. Common-sense may be safely trusted, as to their manner, frequency, and the time spent in making them. But well-disposed, cultured people will usually have friendly relations with a much larger number than can be received on terms of close intimacy. As a means of establishing and maintaining such relations, mere formal calls are made. In the country and in small towns residents are expected to call on new-comers without having any previous acquaintance with them, or even having met them before. Ordinarily the new-comer, of whatever rank, should not call formally on a resident first, but wait till the other has taken the initiative. If after the first meeting, for any reason, the resident does not care to pursue the acquaintance, it will be discontinued by not leaving cards or calling again. The newcomer in like manner if not wishing to extend or continue the acquaintance, will politely return the first call, leaving cards only if the neighbors are not at home.
In some sections of the country calling on newcomers is done rather indiscriminately and with little regard to the real, or supposed social standing of the persons. This accords best with our American ideas of equality, and is consistent for those whose friendships are decided by character and personal accomplishments, rather than by the accidents of birth or wealth. The good society for which all may rightly aspire claims as among its brightest jewels some who financially rank with the lowly—rich only in the nobler qualities of mind and heart. The etiquette that, in any way, closes the door to exclude them is more nice than wise.
Those in high esteem in their community and most worthy will naturally, if circumstances permit, take the responsibility of first calls on strangers who come to reside among them. The call itself is a tender of friendship, and friendly offices, even though intimacy is not found practicable or desirable.
Custom does not require the residents of large cities to formally call on all new-comers in their neighborhood, which would be impracticable, only those quite near and having apparently about the same social status are entitled to this courtesy. Some discrimination is not only allowable but necessary.
A desirable acquaintance once formed, however initiated, is maintained by calls more or less frequent, as circumstances may decide, or by leaving cards when for either party that is more convenient.
Visiting cards must be left in person, not sent by mail or by the hand of a servant, unless in exceptional cases. Distance, unfavorable weather or delicate health might be sufficient reasons for sending the cards, but, as a rule, ladies leave their cards themselves, this being found more acceptable.
A lady’s visiting card should be plain, printed in clear type, with no ornamental or old English letters. The name printed on the middle of the card. The place of residence on the left-hand corner.
A married lady would never use her christian name on a card, but that of her husband after Mrs., before her surname.
In most places it is customary and considered in good taste for husbands and wives to have their names printed on the same card: “Mr. and Mrs.,” but each would still need separate cards of their own.
The title “Honorable” is not used on cards. Other titles are, omitting the “The” preceding the title.
It is not in accordance with etiquette in most places for young ladies to have visiting cards of their own. Their names are printed beneath that of their mother, on her card, either “Miss” or “the Misses,” as the case may be. If the mother is not living, the daughter’s name would be printed beneath that of her father, or of her brother, in case of a brother and sister residing alone.
If a young lady is taken into society by a relative or friend, her name would properly be written in pencil under that of her friend.
If a lady making calls finds the mistress of the house “not at home” she will leave her card and also one of her husband’s for each, the mistress and her husband; but if she have a card with her own and her husband’s name on it, she leaves but one of his separate cards.
If a lady were merely leaving cards, and not intending to call she would hand the three cards to the person answering at the door, saying, “For Mrs. ——,” without asking whether she is at home or not.
If a lady is sufficiently intimate to call, asks for and finds her friend at home, she should, on leaving the house, leave two of her husband’s cards in a conspicuous place on the table in the hall. She should not drop them in the card-basket or hand them to the hostess, though she might silently hand them to the servant in the hall. She will on no account leave her own card, having seen the lady which removes all occasion for leaving her card.
If the lady were accompanied by her husband and the lady of the house at home, the husband would leave one of his own cards for the master of the house, but if he also is at home no cards are left. A lady leaves her card for a lady only, while a gentleman leaves his for both husband and wife.
A gentleman when calling takes his hat in his hand into the room and holds it until he has met the mistress of the house; he may then either place it on a chair or table near him, or hold it in his hand till he takes his leave.
Dreams, books, are each a world: and books we know,
Are a substantial world, both pure and good;
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
There find I personal themes, a plenteous store,
Matter wherein right voluble I am,
To which I listen with a ready ear;
Two shall be named, preëminently dear,—
The gentle lady married to the Moor;
And heavenly Una, with her milk-white lamb.
Blessings be with them, and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares—
The poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!
Oh! might my name be numbered among theirs,
Then gladly would I end my mortal days.
—Wordsworth’s “Personal Talk.”
[NAPOLEON’S MARSHALS.]
Napoleon’s marshals were twenty-six in number, of whom seven only were born in a rank which would have entitled them to become general officers under the old Monarchy. These were Kellermann, Berthier, Davoust, Macdonald, Marmont, Grouchy, and Poniatowski, a Pole. Of the others, Murat was the son of an innkeeper, Lefèbvre of a miller, Augereau of a mason, Bernadotte of a weaver, and Ney of a cooper. Masséna’s father, like Murat’s, kept a village wine-shop; Lannes was the son of an ostler, and was himself apprenticed to a dyer; Victor, whose real name was Perrin, was the son of an invalided private soldier, who after leaving the service became a market-crier; while Soult’s mother kept a mercer’s shop, and Oudinot’s a small cafè with a circulating library. The marshals sprung from the bourgeoisie or middle class were Serrurier, whose father was an officer, but never rose above the rank of captain; Bessières, whose father, though a poor clerk in a lawyer’s office, was the son of a doctor; Suchet, who was the son of a silk-merchant; Moncey, the son of a barrister; Gouvion, who assumed the name of Saint-Cyr, and whose father practiced as an attorney; and Brune, who started in life as a journalist. It is curious to trace through the lives of the different men the effect which their earliest associations had upon them. Some grew ashamed of their parentage; whilst others bragged overmuch of being self-made men. Only one or two bore their honors with perfect modesty and tact.
The noblest character among Napoleon’s marshals was beyond doubt Adrien Moncey, Duc de Conégliano. He was born at Besançon in 1754, and enlisted at the age of fifteen, simply that he might not be a charge to his parents. From his father, the barrister, he had picked up a smattering of education, while Nature had given him a talent for drawing. He looked so small and young when he was brought before the colonel of the Franche Comté regiment for enrollment, that the latter, who was quite a young man—the Count de Survilliers—asked him, laughing, whether he had been tipsy from “drinking too much milk” when he fell into the hands of the recruiting sergeant. The sergeant, by way of proving that young Moncey had been quite sober when he had put on the white cockade (which was like taking the king’s shilling in England), produced a cleverly executed caricature of himself which the boy had drawn; upon which M. de Survilliers predicted that so accomplished a recruit would quickly win an epaulette. This promise came to nothing, for in 1789, after twenty years’ service, Moncey was only a lieutenant. It was a noble trait in him that in after years he never spoke resentfully of his slow promotion. He used to say that he had been thoroughly well-trained, and he alluded kindly to all his former officers. After Napoleon’s overthrow, Moncey’s conduct was most chivalrous; he privately blamed Ney’s betrayal of the Bourbons, for it was not in his nature to approve of double-dealing, but he refused to sit in judgment upon his former comrade. Marshal Victor was sent to shake his resolution, but Moncey repeated two or three times: “I do not think I should have acted as Ney did, but I believe he acted according to his conscience and did well; ordinary rules do not apply to this case.” He eventually became governor of the Invalides, and it fell to him in 1840 to receive Napoleon’s body when it was brought from St. Helena. It was remarked at the time that if Napoleon himself could have designated the man who was to discharge this pious duty, he would have chosen none other than Moncey, or Oudinot, who by a happy coincidence became governor of the Invalides in 1842 after Moncey’s death.
Nicolas Oudinot, Duc de Reggio, was surnamed the Modern Bayard. He was born in 1767, and like Moncey enlisted in his sixteenth year. He was wounded thirty-two times in action, but was so little of a braggart that in going among the old pensioners of the Invalides he was never heard to allude to his own scars. At Friedland a bullet went through both his cheeks, breaking two molars. “These Russians do not know how to draw teeth,” was his only remark, as his wound was being dressed.
After Friedland he received with the title of count a grant of £40,000, and he began to distribute money at such a rate among his poor relations, that the emperor remonstrated with him. “You keep the lead for yourself, and you give the gold away,” said His Majesty in allusion to two bullets which remained in the marshal’s body.
Macdonald comes next among the marshals for nobility of character. He was of Irish extraction, born at Sancerre in 1765, and served under Louis XVI. in Dillon’s Irish Regiment. Macdonald won his colonelcy at Jemmapes. In 1804, however, all his prospects were suddenly marred through his generous espousal of Moreau’s cause. Moreau had been banished on an ill-proven charge of conspiracy; and Macdonald thought, like most honest men, that he had been very badly treated.
But by saying aloud what most honest men were afraid even to whisper, Macdonald incurred the Corsican’s vindictive hatred, and during five years he was kept in disgrace, being deprived of his command, and debarred from active service. He thus missed the campaigns of Austerlitz and Jéna, and this was a bitter chagrin to him. He retired to a small country-house near Brunoy, and one of his favorite occupations was gardening. He was much interested in the projects for manufacturing sugar out of beetroot, which were to render France independent of West India sugar—a matter of great consequence after the destruction of France’s naval power at Trafalgar: and he had an intelligent gardener who helped him in his not very successful efforts to raise fine beetroots. This man turned out to be a police-spy. Napoleon in his jealousy of Moreau and hatred of all who sympathized with the latter, had thought it good to have Macdonald watched, and he appears to have suspected at one time that the hero of Otricoli contemplated taking service in the English army. There were other marshals besides Macdonald who had reasons to complain of Napoleon; Victor’s hatred of him was very lively, and arose out of a practical joke. Victor was the vainest of men; he had entered Louis XVI.’s service at fifteen as a drummer, but when he became an officer under the Republic he was weak enough to be ashamed of his humble origin and assumed his Christian name of Victor as a surname instead of his patronymic of Perrin. He might have pleaded, to be sure, that Victor was a name of happy augury to a soldier, but he does not appear to have behaved well toward his Perrin connections. He was a little man with a waist like a pumpkin, and a round, rosy, jolly face, which had caused him to be nicknamed Beau Soleil. A temperate fondness for red wine added occasionally to the luster of his complexion. He was not a general of the first order, but brave and faithful in carrying out his master’s plans; he had an honorable share in the victory of Friedland, and after this battle was promoted to the marshalate and to a dukedom. Now Victor would have liked to be made Duke of Marengo; but Napoleon’s sister Pauline suggested that his services in the two Italian wars could be commemorated as well by the title of Belluno—pronounced in French, Bellune. It was not until after Napoleon had innocently acceded to this suggestion that he learned his facetious sister had in choosing the title of Bellune (Belle Lune) played upon the sobriquet of Beau Soleil. He was at first highly displeased at this, but Victor himself took the joke so very badly that the emperor ended by joining in the laughter, and said that if the marshal did not like the title that had been given him, he should have no other. Wounds in vanity seldom heal, and Victor, as soon as he could safely exhibit his resentment, showed himself one of Napoleon’s bitterest enemies. During the Hundred Days he accompanied Louis XVIII. to Ghent, and he figured in full uniform at the Te Deum celebrated in the Cathedral of Saint Bavon in honor of Waterloo.
Augereau, Duc de Castiglione, was of all the marshals the one in whom there is least to admire; yet he was for a time the most popular among them, having been born in Paris and possessing the devil-may-care impudence of Parisians. He was the son of a mason and of a street fruit-vendor, and he began life as apprentice to his father’s trade. Soon after he enlisted, and proved a capital soldier; but his character was only good in the military sense. He was thirty-two when the Revolution broke out, and was then wearing a sergeant’s stripes; in the following year he got a commission; in 1793 he was a colonel; in 1795 a general. His rapid promotion was not won by valor only, but by sending to the war office bombastic despatches in which he magnified every achievement of his twenty-fold, and related it with a rigmarole of patriotic sentiments and compliments to the convention.
There was one great point of resemblance between Augereau and Masséna: they were both inveterate looters. In 1798, when Masséna was sent to Rome to establish a republic, his own soldiers were disgusted by the shameless way in which he plundered palaces and churches, and he actually had to resign his command owing to their murmurs. Augereau was a more wily spoiler, for he gave his men a good share of what he took, and kept another share for Parisian museums, but he always reserved enough for himself to make his soldiering a very profitable business.
It was politic of Napoleon to make of Augereau a marshal-duke, for apart from the man’s intrepidity, which was unquestionable (though he was a poor general), the honors conferred upon him were a compliment to the whole class of Parisian ouvriers. Augereau’s mother, the costerwoman, lived to see him in all his glory, and he was good to her, for once, at a state pageant, when he was wearing the plumed hat of a senator, and the purple velvet mantle with its semis of golden bees, he gave her his arm in public. This incident delighted all the market-women of Paris, and helped to make Napoleon’s court popular; but in general respects Augereau proved an unprofitable, ungrateful servant. He was one of the first marshals to grumble against his master’s repeated campaigns, and he deserted him in 1814 under circumstances which looked suspicious. Napoleon accused him of letting himself be purposely beaten by the Allies. After the escape from Elba, Augereau first pronounced himself vehemently against the “usurper;” then proffered him his services, which were contemptuously spurned. The Duc de Castiglione’s career ended then, for he retired to his estate at Houssaye, and died a year afterward, little regretted by anybody.
Masséna, who had been born the year after Augereau, died the year after him, in 1817. He too had enlisted very young, but finding he could get no promotion, had asked his friends to buy his discharge, and during the five years that preceded the Revolution, he served as potman in his father’s tavern at Leven. Re-enlisting in 1789, he became a general in less than four years. After Rivoli, Bonaparte dubbed him “The darling of victory;” but it was a curious feature in Masséna that his talents only came out on the battle-field. Usually he was a dull dog, with no faculty for expressing his ideas, and he wore a morose look. Napoleon said that “the noise of cannon cleared his mind,” endowing him with penetration and gaiety at the same time. The din of war had just the contrary effect upon Brune, who, but for his tragic death, would have remained the most obscure of the marshals, though he is conspicuous from being almost the only one of the twenty-six who had no title of nobility. Brune was a notable example of what strong will-power can do to conquer innate nervousness. He was the son of a barrister, and having imbibed the hottest revolutionary principles, vapored them off by turning journalist. He went to Paris, and was introduced to Danton, for whom he conceived an enthusiastic admiration. He became the demagogue’s disciple, letter-writer, and boon companion, and it is pretty certain that he would eventually have kept him company on the guillotine, had it not been for a lucky sneer from a woman’s lips which drove him into the army. Brune had written a pamphlet on military operations, and it was being talked of at Danton’s table, when Mdlle. Gerfault, an actress of the Palais Royal, better known as “Eglé,” said mockingly, “You will be a general when we fight with pens.” Stung to the quick, Brune applied for a commission, was sent into the army with the rank of major, and in about a year, through Danton’s patronage, became a brigade-general; meanwhile poor Eglé, having wagged her pert tongue at Robespierre, lost her head in consequence.
The marshal on whom ducal honors seemed to sit most queerly was François Lefèbvre, Duc de Dantzig. He was born in 1755, the son of a miller, and was a sergeant in the French guards at the time of the Revolution. He had then just married a vivandière. The anecdotes of Madame Lefèbvre’s incongruous sayings at the consular and imperial courts are so many as to remind one of the proverb, “We yield only to riches.” Everything that could be imagined in the way of a lapsus linguæ or a bull was attributed to this good-natured Mrs. Malaprop, whose oddities amused Josephine, but not always Napoleon.
Once Lefèbvre fell ill of ague, and his servant, an old soldier, caught the malady at the same time. The servant was quickly cured; but the fever clung to the marshal until it occurred to his energetic duchess that the doctor had blundered by giving to a marshal the same doses as to a private soldier. She rapidly counted on her fingers the different rungs of the military ladder. “Here, drink, this suits your rank,” she said, putting a full tumbler to her husband’s lips, and the duke having swallowed a dozen doses at one gulp, was soon on his legs again. “You have much to learn, my friend,” was the lady’s subsequent remark to the astonished doctor.
Napoleon was a great stickler for appearances, and for this reason loathed the dirtiness and slovenliness of Davoust. Madame Junot, in her amusing “Memoirs,” relates that the Duc d’Auerstadt, having some facial resemblance to Napoleon, was fond of copying him in dress and manners; but she adds that Napoleon himself was very neat. A marshal had no excuse for being untidy. Davoust had been at Brienne with Bonaparte, and had thus a longer experience of his master’s character than any of the other marshals. Had he been wise he would have turned it to account, not only by cultivating the graces, but by giving the emperor that ungrudging, demonstrative loyalty which Napoleon valued above all things, and rewarded by constant favor. But Davoust was a caballer, a grievance-monger, and a grognard; and it must have been rather diverting to see him aping the manners of a master at whom he was always carping in holes and corners. On the other hand, it must be said that Davoust proved faithful in the hour of misfortune, and did not rally to the Bourbons till 1818; that is, when all chances of an imperial restoration were gone; moreover, every time he held an important command he did his duty with courage, talent, and fidelity. His affected brusqueness of speech was an unfortunate mannerism, for it made him many enemies, and sometimes exposed him to odd reprisals. The roughness of tongue which was affected in Davoust was natural in Soult. This marshal had an excellent heart, but he could not, for the life of him, refrain from snarling at anybody whom he heard praised. The proverb about bite and bark might have been invented for him, as the men at whom he grumbled most were often those whom he most favored.
Soult was born in the same year as Napoleon, 1769, and out-lived all his brother marshals, dying in 1852, when the second empire was already an impending fact. He had been a private soldier under Louis XVI., he passed through every grade in the service, he became prime minister, and when he voluntarily resigned office in 1847, owing to the infirmities of age, Louis Philippe created him marshal-general—a title which had only been borne by three marshals before him, Turenne, Villars, and Maurice de Saxe. But these honors never quite consoled Soult for having failed to become king of Portugal. He could not stomach the luck of his comrade Bernadotte, the son of a weaver, who was wearing the crown of Sweden.
Bernadotte, whom Soult envied, has some affinities with M. Grévy. This president of the republic first won renown by a parliamentary motion to the effect that a republic did not want a president; so Bernadotte came to be a king, after a long and steadfast profession of republican principles. Born in 1764, he enlisted at eighteen, and was sergeant-major in 1789. He was very nearly court-martialed at that time for haranguing a crowd in revolutionary terms. Five years later he was a general, and in 1798 ambassador at Vienna. He was an able, thoughtful, hardy, handsome man, who, having received no education as a boy, made up for it by diligent study in after years; and no man ever so well corrected, in small or great things, the imperfections of early training. Tallyrand said of him, “He is a man who learns and unlearns every day.” One thing he learned was to read the character of Napoleon and not to be afraid of him, for the act which led to his becoming king of Sweden was one of rare audacity. Commanding an army sent against the Swedes in 1808, he suspended operations on learning the overthrow by revolution of Gustavus IV., against whom war had been declared. The Swedes were profoundly grateful for this, and Napoleon dared not say much, because he was supposed to have no quarrel with the Swedes as a people; but Bernadotte was marked down in his bad books from that day, and he was in complete disgrace when in 1810 Charles XIII. adopted him as crown prince with the approval of the Swedish people. Bernadotte made an excellent king, but remembering his austere advocacy of republicanism, it is impossible not to smile and ask whether there is not some truth in Madame de Girardin’s definition of equality as le privilége pour tous.
Napoleon always valued Kellerman as having been a general in the old royal army. Born in 1735, he was a maréchal de camp (brigadier) when the war broke out. The emperor would have been glad to have had more of such men at his court; but it was creditable to the king’s general officers that very few of them forgot their duties as soldiers during the troublous period when so many temptations to commit treason beset men holding high command. Grouchy, who in 1789 was a lieutenant in the king’s body-guard, hardly cuts a fine figure as a revolutionist accepting a generalship in 1793 from the convention which had beheaded his king. He was an uncanny person altogether; the convention having voted that all noblemen should be debarred from commissions, he enlisted as a private soldier, and this was imputed to him as an act of patriotism; but he had friends in high quarters who promised that he should quickly regain his rank if he formally renounced his titles; and this he did, getting his generalship restored in consequence. In after years he resumed his marquisate, and denied that he had ever abjured it. Napoleon created him marshal during the Hundred Days for having taken the Duc d’Angoulême prisoner; but the Bourbons declined to recognize his title to the bâton, and he had to wait till Louis Philippe’s reign before it was confirmed to him. Grouchy was never a popular marshal, though he fought well in 1814 in the campaign of France. His inaction on the day of Waterloo has been satisfactorily explained, but somehow all his acts have required explanation; he was one of those men whose records are never intelligible without footnotes.
But how many of the marshals remained faithful to their master when his sun had set? At St. Helena Napoleon alluded most often to Lannes and Bessières, who both died whilst he was in the heyday of his power, the first at Essling, the second at Lützen. As to these two Napoleon could cherish illusions, and he loved to think that Lannes especially—his brave, hot-headed, hot-hearted “Jean-Jean”—would have clung to him like a brother in misfortune. Perhaps it was as well that Lannes was spared an ordeal to which Murat, hot-headed and hot-hearted too, succumbed. It is at all events a bitter subject for reflection that the great emperor found among his marshals and dukes no such friend as he had among the hundreds of humbler officers, captains, and lieutenants, who threw up their commissions sooner than serve the Bourbons.—Temple Bar.
[C. L. S. C. WORK.]
By Rev. J. H. VINCENT, D.D., Superintendent of Instruction C. L. S. C.
The Class of ’84 rules the year.
The readings for November are: “History of Greece,” Timayenis, volume II, parts 10 and 11, or (for the new Class of 1877) “Brief History of Greece;” Chautauqua Text-Book No. 5, “Greek History;” Required Readings in The Chautauquan.
Memorial Day for November, Special Sunday, November 11. Read Job, twenty-eighth chapter. One of the finest passages in all literature.
Talk much about the subject of your reading. You know what you have by your speech caused others to know.
Have you ever tried to control conversation at a table in the interest of some sensible subject? It will be a curious study for you to see how this mind and that will run away with or from the topic you have proposed. It will tax your ingenuity to bring the company back to the original topic. The measures of your success will be the interest you can awaken in others, the amount of information on the subject which you can elicit from them, and the amount, also, which you can give them without seeming to be a lecturer or preacher for the occasion.
We must insist upon the observance of the Memorial Days. Put up your list of Memorial Days in plain sight, so that you may not forget them. Order a copy of the little volume of “Memorial Days” from Phillips & Hunt, 805 Broadway, New York, or Walden & Stowe, Cincinnati, Ohio. Price, 10 cents.
It is proposed that “the C. L. S. C. as a body organize a lecture bureau, to be entirely or partially sustained by small contributions from each member, thereby enabling weak circles to obtain one or two good lectures during the year at reasonable prices.” A proposition to be considered.
“Will I be required to read the ‘Preparatory Latin Course in English’ next year? I have studied the same thing in the original very lately.” Answer: You will be required to read the “Preparatory Latin Course in English.” You can not have studied, except under such a teacher as Dr. Wilkinson, the Latin Course in English as we require it under the C. L. S. C. The book must be read.
“Does the C. L. S. C. confer a degree? If so, what is it?” Answer: The C. L. S. C. is not a university or college. It has no charter, consequently it has no power to confer degrees. There is a university charter in the hands of the Chautauqua management—a university to be. In this university there will be non-resident courses of study, with a rigid annual examination, to be followed by degrees and diplomas. There may sometime in the future be a permanent Chautauqua University at Chautauqua. Further than this I can say nothing now. It is to be hoped the Chautauqua University will never confer honorary degrees.
Correspond with some one on the studies of the C. L. S. C. Make your letter a means of self-improvement. Congratulate yourself if your friend, in reply, shows where you made two or three mistakes in your letter.
Will you find out the names of the latest graduating class of the high school in your town, and send them to me? I may interest them in the C. L. S. C. course of study, by sending a “Popular Education Circular.” Address Drawer 75, New Haven, Conn.
Are you willing wisely to distribute from ten to a hundred copies of the “Popular Education Circular,” and would you scatter copies of the tiny C. L. S. C. advertisement, if they were sent you?
The most indefatigable worker in the C. L. S. C., next to our worthy secretary, Miss Kimball, is the secretary of the new class—the Class of 1887—Mr. Kingsley A. Burnell, who is making a remarkable record as he travels to and fro in the far West, visiting editors of papers, offices of railroad superintendents, cabins of employes, and on the cars, urging persons to adopt this new plan of self-culture.
[C. L. S. C. STATIONERY.]
A promise was made at the Round-Table at Chautauqua that in The Chautauquan for November there should be something said about all kinds of C. L. S. C. stationery known to the writer.
William Briggs, 80 King St., E., Toronto, Ont., sells several styles of stationery, sheets and envelopes, with a monogram printed in blue, mauve, or crimson. Information can be obtained by addressing him at Toronto.
By the time this number has reached the hands of its readers, or within a few days after, there will be for sale at the various book stores dealing in the “Required Reading” of the C. L. S. C. a variety of papeterie stationery, having on the front page a beautiful design most artistically engraved, showing Chautauqua Lake, with the Chautauqua landing on the right, as seen from the railroad station, and in the upper left hand corner an oval, or circle, with the Hall of Philosophy very tastily enshrined therein. In the foliage drooping into the lake there is inwrought the monogram of the C. L. S. C. A box of this very fine paper and envelopes will cost about fifty cents. It will be sent by mail from Messrs. Fairbanks, Palmer & Co., 133 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, Ill., or from J. P. Magee, 38 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass., or from H. H. Otis, Buffalo, N. Y. An advertisement of this stationery will be found in the December number of The Chautauquan.
Another style of stationery can be had of Messrs. Fairbanks, Palmer & Co., for the class of 1884, with a beautiful design especially arranged for that class. Forty cents for a quire of paper and envelopes to match.
Ten thousand sheets prepared for general use by the members and officers of the several classes, specially designed to be used by gentlemen, can be had by addressing the several class officers.
For further information write to Rev. W. D. Bridge, 718 State St., New Haven, Conn.
[NEW ENGLAND BRANCH OF THE CLASS OF ’86.]
While at Lake View a New England Branch of the Class of ’86 was organized, with the following officers: President, Rev. B. T. Snow, Biddeford, Me.; vice-presidents, Rev. W. H. Clark, South Norridgewock, Me., Edwin F. Reeves, Laconia, N. H., Rev. J. H. Babbitt, Swanton, Vt., Charles Wainwright, Lawrence, Mass., Miss Lousia E. French, Newport, R. I., Rev. A. Gardner, Buckingham, Ct.; secretary and treasurer, Mary R. Hinckley, Bedford, Mass. The above officers were authorized to act also as an executive board.
The badge of Class of ’86 can be obtained of the President. It has been decided to use in private correspondence a certain style of letter paper marked with “C. L. S. C. ’86” in a neat monogram. Further particulars in regard to this paper will soon be given.
Just before leaving Chautauqua the Class of ’86 adopted a motto: “We study for light, to bless with light.” The New England branch adopts this motto, in addition to the one chosen at Lake View: “Let us keep our Heavenly Father in the midst.”
[C. L. S. C. TESTIMONY.]
Canada.—It was a bitter disappointment to me that I was compelled to leave school at fourteen and earn my own living, giving up the idea of a college course. The C. L. S. C. has been to me therefore an unspeakable boon.
Vermont.—I have received large benefit as well as pleasure during the year that I have been a member of the C. L. S. C. The course of reading has taken me into broader fields, opened new avenues of thought and reflection, widened my field of vision, and altogether made me a better man.
Vermont.—According to Isaiah xxx:7, I have been trying to show my strength by “sitting still” four years. I often ask myself, what should I have done had I not had this interesting course—the C. L. S. C. During these four years of deprivation how many sorrows have been almost forgotten while reading the many interesting thoughts that are presented in our reading. I thank God many times for this glorious enterprise.
Connecticut.—I have been very much interested in the studies of the C. L. S. C. during the first year. It is an honor as well as a privilege to be a member.
Rhode Island.—Many times home duties have occupied time and thought so fully as to discourage me. But realizing that I am to live “heartily as to the Lord,” and viewing the course as his special blessing, I have gathered inspiration and journeyed on patiently.
New York.—I have enjoyed my four years’ course very much, and hope that it has been profitable to me. Though having reached the age of sixty years my love for improvement has not been gratified, and I purpose to continue the course that is marked out.
New York.—I am surprised at the pleasure and advantage the C. L. S. C. has been to me. I have read no more than usual, but have read more systematically, and received greater benefit. There is inspiration in being “one of many.”
New York.—I have taken great pleasure in the reading. Am very enthusiastic over the course, and will try my best to graduate. I do it a great deal for my children, hoping that I may be a better mother, and train their minds so that they will make better men and women than they would have been had I not become a member of the C. L. S. C. Am all alone in my reading, except what my boy of fourteen does with me; even my little girl just turned seven studies geology with me, and is much interested in finding specimens.
Pennsylvania.—I have only been a member of the C. L. S. C. for about four months and in that time I have done most of my reading at night, reading usually from eight o’clock until eleven. As I have to work hard all day, I have little time for reading except at night, I find the course very interesting, and I am deriving a great amount of good from it.
Pennsylvania.—For almost two years my work has required my presence twelve hours every week day, and part of the time sixteen and eighteen hours. I gave up last summer, thinking I could not finish the course, but after being present at Chautauqua I had a greater desire than ever to continue. I have at leisure moments read up for the two years, and must ever feel grateful to Chautauqua influence.
Ohio.—I am a farmer’s wife, but with all the care of the work that position in life brings (and a good share of the work too), I still find time to read the regular four years’ course of the C. L. S. C., and desire to do as thorough work as I am capable of doing. Am reading not merely for pleasure, far less to criticise, but for instruction, and have been greatly helped by this first year’s study.
Ohio.—In many ways I think the C. L. S. C. has been of benefit to the little ones. This last winter my eldest daughter said: “Why can’t we have a society of our own?” “We,” meant the family. I seconded it gladly, and my husband also, and we resolved ourselves into the “Clio Clique” and took as our work “Art and Artists,” as mapped out in the St. Nicholas. Each member pledged themselves to take the work given them by the president (who was our only officer), and also to commit not less than eight lines of some poem to memory. We had no outside members, and we did our work right well, I think.
Illinois.—The C. L. S. C. has done much for me. Life has been brighter, sweeter and better than it might otherwise have been. Friendships have been formed which I am sure will survive life, and add another link in the golden chain that binds us to another world.
Michigan.—To the C. L. S. C. I owe everything.
Michigan.—Were it not that I still may keep a place in the Circle, I should be sorry the four years were over. They have been pleasant ones, so far as the Circle was concerned, and have passed swiftly. It seemed a great undertaking to me four years ago, when I commenced the course. For one thing, I did not see my way clear to get the books, but I resolved to try, and it has seemed all along that it was God’s way of helping me to the knowledge I had so much desired.
Wisconsin.—A lady writes: The regular methods of the C. L. S. C. have suggested to me the plan of having a little home monthly, contributed to only by members of the family, written, and read aloud on a specified evening each month. The children write prose and poetry that are a surprise, but only the effect of a regular course of reading and conversations by one member of the family. While reading astronomy, one of the little girls, aged ten years, took two looking-glasses and illustrated, in play, the motions of a planet. She held them by the window in the sun, so as to throw the reflection on the ceiling. One she had stationary, for the sun, the other she caused to go around it, causing the motion to hasten at perihelion, and to become slow at aphelion, describing the motions correctly. Then she imagined a comet, causing it to go out of sight, then return, and upon its approach to the sun rushing it past with lightning speed. I called the attention of their father to their play with much delight, for I had no idea they understood the motions so well, simply from conversations on the subject in the family circle. They all joined in the conversation at play, and seemed to comprehend it all.
Iowa.—The studies have benefited me much more than I can express in words. May heaven’s choicest blessings rest upon the officers and everyone connected with the C. L. S. C.
Kansas.—I am one of the busy housekeepers, but always find time to read. My reading has uplifted my soul, and led me to a fuller appreciation of the power and love of God, and I feel thankful that I am numbered with the army of Chautauquans.
California.—When I read the C. L. S. C. testimony in The Chautauquan, I always think Chautauqua has been all that and more to me, for it has led me from cold, dark skepticism to my Bible and my Father in heaven, and it is gradually leading some of my friends into the light. I prize my C. L. S. C. books more highly that they are worn and soiled by many readers, and I believe I can do no better missionary work than by enlarging the Circle.
[C. L. S. C. REUNION.]
On the afternoon of June 27, at Pendleton, Indiana, a delightful C. L. S. C. reunion was held. The circle of Pendleton invited the circle from the neighboring village of Greenfield to join with them in their last meeting for the year. A goodly number of visitors were present. After an entertaining program of speeches, songs, toasts, etc., had been carried out, the following class histories were read: