Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, June 7, 1874, Page 11

e R 1HE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, JUNE 7, 1874. 11 THE WOMAN QUESTIGN, «the Fation's” Depreciation of John Stoart Hill's Views in Regard to (ks Relaticas of he. Buxes, fas M. Mill's Mind in That Re- gard " Essentially Morbid "? Hig “ Curicus Theories” as to the Cause of Woman’s.Inferiority Supported by Herbert Spencer. pid ifr, Nill Promulgate an “Extraor- dinary Fallaey,”? or Does ““The © " Nation” Exhibit Extraor- ginary Ignorauce 3 e Edior of The Chicage Tribune = T L fresume 1t Is afo to assume that all perect Clicsgo and the Northwest who read iho Nationresd also THE TRILGSE; and, as it is protable st the former journal, even if it bad $ie gpace, would not have tho disposition, to -int wkst I bave to say, it has occurred to me fust perbaps THE TRIBTNE, whose audience in- clades that of the Nation and mauy thousinds foore, would be willing 0 do 80 I desire to call attention to certain passages from the Nation relating o what is called : “THE WOMAN QUESTION,” g2d to 2pply the proper correctiong,—using, for {hat purpose, not my own, but” tho suthority of s far better qualificd, —indacd, of tho very pessons implicated by that jomrnzl's sialements. And first permit mo to make the following quota- tion: . o believe it was tho late 3r, Mill who gave eur- sency to the CUrions Yiew, T his own relations b the sex bave in grest part-explained, that the fe- Tile character, 88 it his beenknown lo the world Fi5ce ths dawn of history, was the product of deliber- 3t mle tyranny, like that of ‘which male serfs hnve $oca the victisus, and could, by & course of judicious Jrgislstien, ba bronght back 10 3 primordial type, not o complete similzrity, but of equality in strength and aapacity.—dation, Mareh 2. ut s [Mr, Mill's] Autobiography, whatever else it &id, reveaied the fact that his state of mind in regard £ the relation of tho sexes was ossentially morbid, and st is experlenco of female character wes purrow andcoe-sided. and singularly insufiicient to qualify ‘i fr the position of dviser on & matter which per— s colors both nationzl end individual lifa more Qeeply thzn 2oy other influmnce.—Nation, May 14. Thess passages might, perhaps, be termed the calminstion of ‘s ‘specially-pursued purposo wlich I bave noticad on the part of the Nation forsome time past, to mako light of and dis- eredit Mr. Mill's yiews on this subject. I have before me, as [ write, some six passages from that paper, extending back for & year aud a half, in each of which bricf allusion is made te B. JOLL'S * CURIOUS STORY {*comical” is the word used in one instanoe), adin which the impression is sought to-be conveyed—by _passing assumption _only—that tuis opinions were peculiar, or fuuny, or ont of date. Having thus .prepared its _resders by ropetitions en passand, it geems rmow to think it “safe to charge that Mr. Mill's mind was “morbid,” and that ho was * gingularly " disqualified to advize upon such amatter. What the Nation wishesus to believe, I suppose, isthis: That Alr. Mill, who mngled but little in genersl society, and there- fore saw little of women, consequently regarded tle Bex 28 a whole with the same =nointed eyes through- which he looked,npon his wife; and fhat, bad not Mrs. Mifl been tho woman of such marvelous qualitios as in his eyes she was, his opinions would not have boen what they were, AsTegards the correctness ot this, let me quote aguin: “Tno object of his essay ia to explain, aa clearly &s I m sble, the grourds of An opinion wiich T bave held froia Usa very earlicst veriod when I had formed any bpinions st all on socisl az political matters, and wich, inetead of belng: weakened or modified, han beeri cons‘antly growing atronger by the progrets of pfiection and the experience of life—Subjection of Women, page 1. g Aud g spesking of the presumption that Bomehy buve derived his opinions from his wife, he says: . " 7 This was &0 far from being the case, that thoss con- vicuons were among the earliest rasults of tho applica - fii of my mind to political subjects ; and the sirength with which T held them was, 85 I Lalieve, more than anilung slse, the originating catiac of tha interest she fait in me.—Autediography, page 244, note. That Ar, Mill beld any morbid estimate of the #ex 85 & whole, is CONTRADICTED IN MASY WATS. He avoided general society, as” he- gays, because tiero was nothing in it o aitrack an educeted ereon~in bther words, becanse he'had a con- ompt Tor it., I his “fSubjection of Women,” Le repeats more than onco that the very quali- ties which, in women, captivate men the most, are artificial qualities. In the matter of self- sacrifics, espocially, ho aags that ho lays littlo Etress upon that supreme female attraction, for the resscn that ho does not think it belongs by n:ture exclusively-to women ; aud adds - that, in = society of sexnal -equality, ‘*a good woman would not be moro xelf-gacrificing than the best mau.” That be believed woman's mental capa~ cities had been @, ‘most trus; but that ever taught, _the Aation _over awd over . amsperts, .. that a ~‘;judicious wwso of - legislatlon” would ~ produce matsl oquality, is untrue and absurd. A fiflmonfl course of education, no doubt ho ought, wenld spproximate woman to,that #tae. The only legislation he desired was the {aking-off of those logal (and social) chains by which, until within the present century, she has been absolutely inhibited from testing her men— taleapabilities. by education. And, when one tonsiders that it is only within that time, even in Boston, that woman has been-aliowed evon & common-school education, and puts with it the Fresent festimony of Presidents White, Angell, wadothars, that tho girls of their collego-classes e fully nllp to the standard of the young men, it toema asif My 3ill's opinion was BEIXG JUSTIFIED EVEN BOONKE than he conld have expected. Within the same geriod, too, Tashion and the I have permitted Loglish women to oducate themselves forcertain.departments of literature; 1ad the reslt we teo in that galaxy of female thinkers, poets, novellals, efc., of which Har- ;m‘ Martineen, Charlotte Bronte, Frances Gcwn Cobbe, Mary Somerville, Mrs. Browning, eorge Eliot, s, Milt, and Mrs. Fawcett, are someof thechiof stars. Smrounded by such wom- €1 83 these, the product of almost the Srst gen- ftion of aven 8 partinlly-educaied womenkiood r. 3iill no reason for his opinion, and is i ;—".' evidence of a morbid state of mwnd that be eldit? At all ovents, the Nation may rake the ;nm list of Amercan male celebrities, at least, for tn equal number of equally-endoved intel- Irow wish to confront the Nation with MI. LCREERT SPEXCER'S AUTHORITY, z%_tnr thet purpose, must make another quota- Moreover, his [Mr. Mill's) autbority had been se- Hously iwyaired, even Mu{‘e tLis revelaiion was wade, (e aber refection of the public upon the propozi= W32 oo which his book on the *Subjection of wana”ioay by £aid fo Luve been Lased; tha Yokl cagaclty, and the differences in Vs Yooy hich kept women In a siate of inferiority, had eated end mzdo hereditary by 8 long course of imasy cn tho part of men, aud thus wected to be kr_;?m“m Whereas they were removable by legis- iy [here it {8 again], This resliy obtatued a wride piecd acoeptance when first propounded, though it Eiauned an eztraorz:nary fatiacy ; for every woman S0t courwe, a fatler w3 weil a8 8 mother, ot is, i daye; words, the ofspring of o tyrant as wellasa 80 that the failure of fathers to bequesth their euliar characteristics to their dsughters would, on - Mil]'s theory, brve been one of the most extrsor. g“‘-"h in anthropology. and would have nceded hl'aflumg( bflfln the v:drybopeulna ::ll‘lhg: l:l‘lcfl!iion, 4 By =Seton, gy g, T Upon first thoughts, T should say that it §uired considerable hardihood, even'in the A o, 40 charge upon a man like” Ar. Mill, 28 ‘an Sxtruordinary fallacy,” that which, if it be a fiicy, wes indeed 0 extraordinary that sa e schoalboy would bo very apt to detect b A eafer conclusion, one would say, would AT8 been 1o suspect that Afr. Alill knew what he T taiking sbout when he assumed that guali- n'idguended from eex to sex, in spite of the 8 influences of father or mother. Whether o or not, let Mr. Spencer say. The entire f'far pon, tho ‘;l’sycholug_\‘ k:af Lhums‘ixe‘!fi" [ nt gociological work, i e <Bubjec:ion of “’omc:fil" 2 45D TPON THE BAME ‘ EXTRAORDINAEY FPAL- ract.” 12 that chapter the Nation will find an analy- course, as Mr. Spencer ch have grown ir mutnal relations as stronger and sia of feminine qualities, partl saxa, inheront, and partly * whl out of thei “weaker.” The writer then traces at some length-| - the process by which many femalp character- istfes have been produced by a condition of de- peudencg. ana adds the following: Of colfve it {a not’ asserted that the spectaltiss of miud here described a5 hatiag. Ieon devlosed i women by their neresritiz of defouse In Moir dealings with meb, are pecu'icr 10 them. I mea ulso they | uave beeu developed os alds to defense lu their deal- iugs with one auother. Lut the differcnce is, that whereas, I their dealings with one another, men do- pend upon_ thesealds ouly {nsome measure, women, in their dealings with men, deponded upon them almost waolly,—within the domestic circle as woll az -without it. Hence, in virtue of that partial limitation of Reredity by sez which many facts throughout Natare show us, they have come to bo more marked in womsn than fn mam. t In 2 note.to the chove passage, Mr. Spencer says that, ' were the place fit, he might detail evidence that has been collected” in proof of the “predominant transmission of traits to de- scendants of the same sex.” The ovidence is, Lo says, in some respects marvelons,” and concerns bodily 1 weil a3 mental characteristics, extending to inheritance of discases, malforma- tious, eto. Ha cites Agassiz in evidence, and, closing the note, says that— Among Eiroponn and Esstern nations, the men and wonsen diifer, both bodily sud mentally, not_quite in tlie s3me ways or to the Aumo degrees, but_{n somo what differsnt ways rnd drgrees,—a fect which would be nexplicable were there 1o parttal limitations of he- rodity by sex. The law of ‘‘ THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST” also comes in play to still further nicrease inher- ited differences, s appsars from the following : Clesrly, olker thinga equal, among women living at the mercy of men, thore Who kuccesded moat in pless- ing would be the moat likely 1o survive and loave pos- terity. And (recognizing the predominant deseout of qualitics on toe same side) this, acting on successive generatious, tended to estubiisil, 43 & feminine trait, spevicl solicitude to be approved, aud an aptitude of manuer to this end. Again,in the. body of the chapter, I find the following = - * Those unlikenesscs of mind between men and wom- en which, under tho conditions, were to_be expected, ere the unlikenessss we sctually find. T'hat they are Jixed in degree by no means follows ; ‘indeed, the con- trury follows. Dotermined, s we 306 they some of them ars, by adaptation of primitivo women's natures 10 the natures of primitive men, it s inferable that, as civilization readjusts men's nutures1o high requiraments, thore goss on » corzoaponding re ment between the natures of men and wumen, tending -in sundry respeets to diminish their differcnces, £e- pevially may We antictpate that those mental pecaliari- ties doveloped in women s alds to dofense against men in berbzrous tizmes, will diminiuh. Tt is proliskle, too, that, though all kinds of power will continue to be at- tractive to them,theattractivenoss of physical strangtl, and (he mealal atiributes that comnionly go along with it, will decline, whi duce 16 rocial influnce will bacome more attractive, Further, it is 10 be zuticipated that the Ligher culturs of women, carrled om within such limits as shall not unduly tax the phyaigue (sud here, by bigher culture, 1 do not mean mers language-lewriing and an_exten- sion of the detestable craming-system st present in ure), will in_other ways reduce the contrast. Blowly lending to the result, everywhers seen _throughout the organio world, of & self-preserving power inversely proportionate to the raceprezeaving power, it will en- A31l'a leas oarly arrest of individuzl evolution, sud a diminution of those meutal differencesbeiwesd men and women which tne esrly arrest produces, The **early airest of individual evolution” in fomeles has. becm previously spoken of as Na- ture’s preparation for the boering of children. From which it appears that Mr. Spencer belisves that, even in this par-axcollence femalé funotio. of child-boaring, womaa has been o WARPED FROM A NATURAL CONDITION by her subjection to the power and dosires of man. And I mayadd that Prof. Huxley has ex- pressed the same opinion. . It I misteke not. the Nation was one of those prpers which, when the *Subjection of Women" Tade its sppearance, made light of the assertion in that book that “ what is called the naturs of women is in eminently artificial thing.” Some wiseacre in Appletons’ Journal wes,.to my cer- tain recolloction, very funny and sarcastic over the following passnge: If men had ever been found in moclety withoui women, or women without meu, or if there had Leen 2 mociety of men and women in which the women wers Dot under the control of ths men, something might have been positively known about the mental aud ‘moral differences which may be inherent 10 each. In this, es in other glrflculu’l, Mr. 8pencer commes to the support of Mr. Mill, in the follow- ing passage from tho same chapter: Sundry manifestations of nature in men and women ars greaily perverted by existing social conventions upheld by both. Thersare feelings which, under our predatory regime, with-ita sdapied standard of pro- priety, it {s not considered manly to show, but which, contrariwise, are considored admirsble in women, Honce, represeed manifestations in the one carc, and exaggerated manifestations in the other,—leading to mistaken estimtes. Tho sexual sentiment comes fnto play to modify the behavior of men and women to one another. Respect- ing certain_parts of their ganeral characters, the only evidence which ean be trusted 1a that furnished by the conduct of men tomen, snd of women La wonien, ¥hen placed in Teiations which exclada the parsonal affec- tions. Comparing those agrosments between Messrs. Spencer and Alill which I bave cited, the ques- tion arises in my mind, whether Mr. Mill pro- mulgated an * extraordinary failacy,” erwhother the Aation has exhibited EXTRAORDINARY JGNORANCE, Or, in other words, will the combined suthori- ty of the two suffice to stand sgainat the com- Placent dictam of tne Nation? For mvself, I incline to think that they will. That journal, s we Lknow, has no love for those gen- tlemen, their methods, or their views, snd, like its Euglish model, Jis an adept, whea it wishes, in the aré of deprociation by sncer, by assumption, by flsok-diversion and in- sinnation. 1f Mr. Mull's intluenca is not -declin-' ing, it certainly is not bocause the Nation has nbt informed ggs readers often enough of the fact. I think I'have rexd in Its pages a8 man seomingly casual assertions to that effect as al- Insions to his “curious view.” Mr. Mill's almost absolute authority may havae declined someowhat, f lato years; but is it becaure of any detacted and confessed error in his teachings ; or is it bo- cause he ventared to prosa their practical appli- cation, ten, twenty, or fifty yeurs bofore the slow- oing world was ready forit? If £0, be canaf- ?flrfl to wait. 3 o "No doubt his espousal of that special phasa of tho woman-movement eallod woman-suffrage Bas, just now, somewhat injured his suthority, I ai, myselt, ono of those who believe that woman-suffrage beforo woman hng become po- cuniarly independent will bo but C . A*MIXED" EXPERIMENT. Mr. Mill evidently thought it would be & potent educator of the femsle mind; and, what.in England was of much greater importance than Tere; he wanted her vote to aid in remoying the multiplied disabilities, injustices, and worse, which English men bave thus far failed to re- move from the English codo. Here, in many Stalos, they have been removed, and doubtless will be, sooner or later, in all. Be- ing removed, snd with Do fesr of further opes bomng impoeed, I think- that womsn's next duty_to herself is intellectasl and pecunia- Ty emancipation,—education and universal golf- stpport,—tle one to be no more surrendeced at marringe than the other, no mattor what may be the character or capabilitics of the husband. Until- that somewhat distant day, I have little faith in s suffrsge which, so far as 1§ should be, 1ot a mers daplication of the husband's vote, would nndoubtadly be, mora thsn anything else, ‘but an instrument in clerical handsfor the estab- lishment of religious tests, of snmptuary moral- ity, ond church-enginery in general. I might 244 that the developments of the past winter have not scemed to me to favor any undue baste in tire adoption of woman-suffrago. This, however, is neithér Lere nor there. "If it be trno that Mr. Mill's influence is declining,” who, by common consent, 1s_assuming hisyacant lace as intellectual leador, but this samo Her-- Pert. Spencor. whose political tendencies, with differences of method, and minus Afr. Aill's ro- forming zeal, ara all ¥ TOWARD THE SAME ULTIMATE ENDS? Toward tho general unsettling of men's minds now golug onin regard to venorable sbuses labeled as good, and toward which the Nation latterly turps with repentant eses, Mr. Spencer may not carry the same fiery energy, nor make the same direct attack; but most assuredly Le is, in his own way, carrving on that Tetorcer's work, Indced, I am niot sure bat, in his more scientific and impaesive manner, he has alresdy dons as much or more toward undermin- ing thoso false gods, ** Custom, and * The Com- monplaco,” which Mr. Mill regarded as the worst Toemnf thie taco, then s predeceseor has done in a lifetime, But that he has been able £5 ac- complish so much in 50 _short o time, aad bida fair Lo cffeat so much more in the fataro, is due, in grreat patt, to the work which Mr. lill did be- fore him. RADIOAL. Cuicaao, Juno 4, 1874 o . THE IDOL-WORSHIPER. He made to him s God; carved it of wood “And stane, in shape he thought thst Gods ahould wear, 1t was o monster, yet he found it fair; It was n Renseless stock ; he found it good, ‘And knolt devout and loving where it atood When griefs and burdens seemed too great te bear, He, trusting, called on it to Lielp snd share, ° 1 prayed beside him, and did what I could To wean bim from his God unto my own, Invain]l Hedied! Presumptuous T asked, “Can God savesuch?™ A voice in sternest tone T heard,—*Thy thought no less than his hes masked God' face. Thino arrogance nas ncedloss txaked . Ttself. To God thy prayer and lus azé anel” —H. H, in the Christian Union. the atbributes whizh con- | CERAMIC ART. '];hé Business of Decorfl.tin-g China in Chicago. ilow Peoople Manage Broken Sets, to HMateh The Method of Painting and : Baking. Tro#ables with Amateurs. {Ono of the most gratifying evidences of homa .culture axhibited at the great Exposition last fall was the china and earthen ware decoration by L. T. Btaring, whioh, for purity of color and beauty of exccation, was admitted to bo oqual to the ornamentation displayed on a similar class of imported goods. Yosterday afternoon a Toisune reporfer visited tho workshop of Mr. Btaring, aud gleansd the following interesting information with regard to the risa and progross in Chicago of the art of decorating. In eon- versation with Mr. Staring. who i as great a devotes of his art and as persistent in his efforts o4 Palliesy himself, he learned that FIVE YEARS A60 the art was altogether unknown in the West, and any one who had occasion for work in the china-decorating line had td send all the way to New York to have it done. The de- mand, however, created the supply, and five years ago a small docorating establishment -was started, which for two years bad ratber a ‘precarious existence. At the end of that time Mr. Btaring, who had been part proprictor, ob- tained the sole possession of the business, and since then he has persevered, overcoming trials and difficultles that would have yanquished a less sanguine man, until ac present he 18 con- fident that his business is one of the settlsd in- dustries of Chicago. HEFODE THE FIZE the businesa was in vory good shaps, but after §t Mr. Staring’s occupation was gons, and for eight months he was obliged to retirs from businese, his former customers having evidently more serious things to think about than the dec- oration of jugs or soup-tureens. Aftor his forced seclusion from the businesa .he had re- salved to build up, be was iaduced by Mesars. Burley & ell to'resume work, but for some time the orders camo in 80 slowly that there was not work enongh to -keep a man busy half a dsy. This - disheartening state of af- fairs was ameliorated -by the sdvertisement which his work got at the Exposition, and for soma tims. the: prcapect was quite rosy, but in the midst of the proeperity came the' pamio.- Once more the patrons of this peculiar branch of pictoriel art failed to ot thio -support its exponent hoped for, and for-some months_the business was anything but ' protitablo. 01 late, - howaver, it has been looking up, from all’ over the West orders have come in, and Mf, Staring is confidont that, bar further accidents, the busi- nees is again oo 2 safe basis. ) - It must not be thought tuat the place in which this artistic work ia conducted'is a large estab- lishment with s maultitnde of ariiets each om- ployed in his peculiar line of business. ‘This is the fature reslization of the proprietor’s wishes, to which hoe looka forward constantly and confi- dently. S Garid ir Chaata - THE PRFSENT ESTABLISIMENT is & humble one-story wooden® building en the north'gide of Laks street, between Halsted zud Green, the workshop.occupying the ground floor, and the kiln a dimiuutive shed in.the rear. The only assistants employed are two youag men and n oqual number of girls. In this unpretentious workehop are carried on the different branchea of the china-ware decorating as sompletely as in any of the Earopsan establishments, some of ‘whioh employ several lundred oporativ The principal work done hiere.is in ... . *‘ayaTcmiNg,"— that 1s, supplying tho fac-simile of the oad brokon piece -or pieces of a set. It may not be gonerally known that- thera are in ¢ hicago and the Northywest certain’ thrifty folls who make a poins of visiting the china-ware houses,and pick- ing up at raduced cost such dinoer, tea, breakfast, or beidroom sets as are miuua one or two_ picces. The reduction of price in thesa casos is by no means trifiing, as, whare the breakage includes an essential article, the damaged sot is often dispoaed of at half-cost, or even losa. The frag- ments of the broken piece or pieces are takea by the purchaser to the decorator, together with » fac-gimile in plain china, upon which he makes acopy of the original pattern. This matching- work is the most difficult, and at the sume tims the most unsatisfactory, work of the docorator. Whero the coloring of the original is of bold, original design, and in decided tints, the imita- tion is easily accomplished ; but when it is in noutral tints, or wherae the color is combination, it is only after repeated trials on pieccs of broken china that the requisite color can be pro- duced. The difficulty lies in the fact that the color, after being pat on the article, Las to undergo & rocees of burning in in which it is invariably oepened a shade ortwo. It will intorest par- ties who want to gointo & matching speculation, {o learn that it is only the hand-painted designs that can be profitably imitated. Tho class of work which is known™ aa printed-ware is of so intricate design_that its exact copying can only bo scoomplished at great expense.. The print- ing of patterns is done wholesalo in the Euro- pean china-ware factories, and 1t is in tho large numbers of pieces of -the same pattern that are turned ot that the cheapness is obteired. THE PRINTING PROCESS is very simple. The requisito pattern for the re- quired number of kets o articles to bodecorated is printed on paper in metallic eolors. This pa- or is stuck on the white ware, which is then E\l.med in the kiln, and, as soon 88 the color is sbsorbed by the ware, the paper is washed off and the process is complete. s ‘An unfortunaté and invariable ialosyncrasy of . the matchers. of broken sets is the exactness of tint and pattern which ther demand of the decor- ator. When the soup-plate, soup-dish -cover, or pitcher is returned to them With the original pat- torn as closely imitated s can’ possibly be done, they ‘mever fail compare every stroke of the artist critically With the_pattorn on each of the pieces of the original set, and if the faintest suspicion of variation in eitber tinc or form is obuervable it iz pointed ont with a profusion of disparaging remarks. A vory bad cuse of thig kind was cured by the decorator a few days ago. Ho had matched an égg-cup very closely, but ihe keen eye of lus customer, who had paid 25 cents for the piecs of art, detected the cighth of » shade difference between tho colorsof the original and the imitation, and grumbled no- cordingly. The whole sct happened- to be close at hand, and the complaints suddenly cexsed when the decorator showed that betweon some of the pieces the color showea a variation of at least two shades. THE PROCESS. * o insure an exuct reproduction of the orig- inal, be it a flower, or & face, oOr s monogram, the decorator first of all traces a copy on s piece of tisaue paper pasted ovor the original. This copy he pfmes upon a piece of foil, upon which be pricks a stencil, with the aid of which he pro- duces on the pieco to be ornamented, in powdor- ed charcoal, the form he is to produce 1v color. THE BIGGEST JOB which the Chicago decorator has on hand at pres- ent, is the matching of some very beantiful Chi- pa-ware for tho Palmer house. The ground- work of this wareisof an extremely dolicate ivory tint, which he found it very dificult to im- itate, and it was not nntil e had medo & num- ber of attempts that he succeeded in bitting the color. Strange s it may seem, the larger por- tion of the business dooe by 3r. Btaring comes frem the country round Chicago. The city pro- vides him with the bulk of his matching work, butitisfrom tho country that he gets hisor- ders for the docorating of complote sets with original designs, & class of work which 18 both more: plessant aad paying than any other. There aro 2 FOUR DISTISCT BRANCTES in decorating,—grounding, gilding, flowering, and lettering,—each of which in large establish~ ments is assigned to distinct operatives. The- unding—which, a8 its name implies, is_the Taying om of the ground-work tint, which is ueoally done in bands—is eimple work, as soca 28 the artist his mixed his colors so a8 to pro- duce the requisite shades. The bands on circu-- lar pieces are put on with great ease, the piece being placed on s rotary stand, snd made to receive the tint from a brueh which the painter holds egainst it. The gilding is » simple matter, ths success of the operative depending mainly upon the quality of gold employed. When the gilding ou chipa~ware rubs off after comparatively glight wear, it may safely ba assumed thst the goid is of_poor quality. Tho fowering acd fg- nre-work is the most artistic of all tho branches, 20 it iain this lino ambitions amaseurs most {frequently air their artistic ebility, Ii-isa pity that the trath must be confessed, that the most profitable branck: of the china-decorating art’ -in Chicago is that last mentioned above." _ LETTERING, - - - - - There i8 certain small margin of profit in the matching of broken {ea cups and saucers, but the money is in the lettering of articles of com- mercial ugility. The best businees which comes 10 the decorator's- hands is the pmuting of +Joha Smith” or *7T1homas Brown” in ylain, black letters on the china pot which is to con- tain that individusl's pecuhar ehaving-brush, soap, and cosmetique;-in the numbering of hotel-doors ; the deuigunting tho contents of druzgists’ or grocers shop-drawers, and the paintiog of the name on china door-plates, or other eqnaily useful but commonplace purposes. The lottering and all other palnting is: done with the common hair-pencil, just g8 in ordingry oil-painting. The colors used, howover, are metallio, and, in their preparation for use, they are mized with a flux which enablos them the mors readily to be absorbed by the glaze on which thoy are laid. The moet correct judg- meut has to be employed in the mixing of the colors, for, as has already been stated, tho shades of the tints in the frosbly-painted picture are decpened in the baking. . DAKING, After all the care and judgment with which the colors bave boen pr:filrad, and the-dosign 1aid upon the surfaco of the piace of china, the most delicate oporstion of all has to be per- formed—that of bakiug the colors into the glaze. Yor the due performance of this work the decor- =tor has a kiln, in which bo submits to various degrees of Leat, according to the character of the colors, the different articles in prooess of decoration. The kiln is 2 simple-looking af- fair, built of bsick; but, notwithstanding its ordisaty appearance, it .- is .3 coetly structure. When tho articles are undergoing the baking process, the hoat of the' kiln is 80 reat that they become semi-molton—so soft, act, that tho slightest touch will loave a dint in the surface. Au soon as the colora are suffl- ciently Lukad to insure their bsorption- by tho glaze, the ki is ellowed to cool very gradually, 10 gusrd agzinst tho danger of surfaco-splitting. It 18 not until the different articlos ara removed. from the kiln thac tho decorator can feel re- lieved from the anxiety which attends every part of the procets, from the mixing of the colors until tne opening of the cooled kiln. Then he takes lus picce 0f work . to the light of day, which sbows hum whetber it is tho raward of good workmanship or the punistimeat of an error of judgment. Notwithstaoding the ex- trome caro zud delicacy with which ezch opera- tion bas to be conducted, the exparionce.of Afr. Staring is such that it i very seldom that the result of his work varies from the design be santicipatoa prodacing. 3 TOE AMATZUR. Torhaps the leas welcoma visitor at the work- shop of the decorator . is the amatour who has a weslmess for iuscribing sentiments .or names, or drawing pictures upon mags to be prosented to Iriends, oatensibly ss a mark of regard, but real- Iy with & view of advertising thewr artistic talent. ‘Tha advice of the decorator is never asked, either as to tho choica of a subject or the judgment displayed in the salection, arrangement, or lay- ing on of the colors. He is appasled to simply # lus capacity of baker, and the amateur geaer- eliy regards Lim _in no ligher light .than that in 'which & cook rogards her oven. To him she (for the zmateur is generally of the fair '“Z takes bor masterpiece,—a lettered *Love the er, or othor tender piecs of advics, & painted rose or Hily of most original color and form, or & land- scape in which the beautios of all the zonos are bleudmll——nnd, like the coolt, whose oven is al- ways blamed for the fanlts of the dcnyh, when her chef-d’cusre comes from the baking with the colora sltered ashade or two the kiln 18 made to bear all the odium, and it is not unti aftor repeated disappointmenta that the tyro loarns that in mixing her colora sllowance must be made for the decpenivg of tints which takes placo in the baking, Like all amateurs, they ars very persovering, however, and it is prabable that in the course of sevoral years the smateur docorators of Chicago will turn out some.wonder of art worthy of a nook in the Art Department of the Exposition. i THE WORK ELSEWHERE, - . Thoart of decorating 1a Chicago is still in ‘its infancy, bus thero is no reason why the little es- tublishment on Lalkoe streef should not be the nucleus of a thriving busiuess, The Eastera decorntors aro pleased at the tarting of -the business hero, as it has'relioved them of the Western orders for matching,—a class of work which thoy would rather dispenss with than per- form. Tho possible future success of the aré hero may be estimated by the work which is' dons clsewhere. In the porcolain fac- tories of Btaffordshire, England, the work is carried on on an enormous acale, about 60,000 operatives finding stoady amploymont there, and the gold alone used in the decoration of ware costing annually over §150,000. In England, all who havo money and make any pretensions to taste support the art by becoming purchasers of the home manufactured and decoratod ware ; and it would ba well if, in Cuicago aud the North- west, thoss who intend to make thoir homes ele- ant in like manner would remember that thers s Amenican porcelain ss good es any imported, and a Chicago decorator to ornament if a8 beau- dfully 28 it can be dona elsewheres. - A-branch of the business which Mr. Staring hes not yet touched, but which he hopes fature suc- cees will enable'him to_ezperiment upon, is the photo-onameling, which is very popular in En- gland. By this means an exact represontation of any objact can bs burnt into china-waro, and mado as lasting as the pictures in metallic colors, and, if desired, the father of a family will soon bo able to zdorn his dinnor --and toa sots with Insting portraits of himeelf, hia wifo, and family, and any near rolations or {riends wliose counter- feit presentmonts he mey desire to have at din- ner with him in the absencs of the origiuals, —_———— SADBATH. Acrozs the deeps of sin and tofl, Tike wearicd birds, we séek olir way, Our pinions worn with care and motl From duwn to boing's evening gray. Faint 2 the ark-flown dove are we, "And joy glows wirm within our breast When Sabbath, God’s own olive-tree, Lifts up her boughs that we may rest. A rympathy well-born of Lova Wakes many s gladly-wafting lay, And angels through the courts above Prociaim the dswn of the blest day. Blest day ! When from Creative Spring, Love-drawn, and every drop complete, The cartbly stream, 2 living thiog, Lay, couscious, at ita Fountain's feet. The Orient morning flushed the East, And wowed with pearl the trombling air; Daws's rose-hued Tootprints swilt increased, And Uglit was laughing everywhere; Féli-lirimming in her Beart of bearts, Earth dreamed no mors, but stood complots, With joy's full thrill of pulaing darts,— ‘Hor children fed on rapture kwest, Outspoke the Bullder's vofca agaln, " And sil His wondrous temple biessed ; And, while the day-flood smiled en,” He spraad the holy vell of rest. ‘Then sl the breathing tribes reposed, Aud Ocean called jta billows back,. Tas stora {ts mighty caverns closed,— Iome flcd the lightning on its track,— Andman held converss with his God. 0 brothers in the march sublime ! O toilers in tho busy strife 1 Wio bear your weary loads through Tims, Wito wait to pass the gate of Life,— Lift up your hearts awhilo and sing: Our sonls shall rest, 58 rest our hands, Then busy angels, habting, bring The fruitage from a thousand lands, We only pause awhile to-day, Jnd acek the temple-gates in prayer, 0 Lift us on Faith's esger ray 20d viow our Spirit-Sabbath there. We do but drop our hands and pray In emblem of our work above, ‘Where weariness shall gink sway, And all our busy life be love. And Love shall make delight our task,— We never woary of delight ? We shall be rested all wo ask,— Love meketh all our duties light, Methinks, when evening-shedow clols The gatewsy of retiring day, And lingering flushes of tho Tose \iang, trembling, loth to piss away; Yien all the dewy sky is rife With lustrous gleams of ferther Heaven, Ard Earth is flasbing {ntolife, 3loat should the thoughts to God ba given, © wayward heart of mine, be etill ! B:hold ! the manna-cloud js here ; :+and thy seases,—drink thy £ Uf oll that makes the pilgrim L, through the atirless, yielding Ald distant sa e mlentbill, Faint clumes glide, like a breathing psalm, el for awhile, then all is seill. #Tin Sabbath's holy vesper-hour | Gud of the monarch and the poor, ¥ho calleth all our frames from dust, Who writes our bosom’s secret sure, And writeth feeble children’s trust, Lok deep into our bosor's core’; Holy of holies let it be, ‘Enshrining strong its sacred atore, And consecrated, Lord, to thee, ‘Rosz-GzimmL. —A gentleman who came several thousand wiles to view tho country with the purpose of purchasiog, gob & large-rizod red anton him a few days szo, and, stranger sa hoe was, be cavorted around and used 88 sppropriato language a8if he had lived bere all his life, aod moved in tho best of sociery.—San Amnmol{;!éuad- (Tex.) Herald. _than hoe or his w! e — LITTLE MIDGE. ot .. QHAPTER I _ . The giant intellect was overthrown; and, great 28 had been tho heizht to which it had attained, 80 great was uta fall. . He bafore whom had boswed in humble roverence all that is noble, freat, and good. now, bewing in abject helpleas- ners fo lug inscrutable doom, lay prostrate, & thing to pity and shudder over. *** ‘T'iio iron gates were fiung wide open to raceive him. Had not every gato—that of the Prince as well as the millionaire, of the.saint as wall ag the sinner—opened wide at his approach? fad —yes; powone door only openod for him— opened silently, snd he entered. - HE WAS A GREAT MAN STILL.— “great even in his abject abasement; all proper respect, therefors, was shown him. The master of the houae stood on tho threshold to receive his guest, and bowed low befors him his uncov- ered head, not daring to look into the face that had boon 8o glorious, that was 80 marred—so térrible. - Along the dim-vaulted passages, re-echcing £0 each mufied tread; 1o eager crowd pressing forward to catch sight of him—no enger whisper circulating hiz name—utter silencs eround him. Bounds, indecd, there were in tho great honss 80 fall of pain and misery; but the walls wers thick, and, like the grave, they guarded well thelr eecret.’ « They gave him' s room to himself, and light and air—the only things left to him of alife that had been 8o beautiful. ' Aud oven theso were his no longer, for the tortured soul could neither 8eo nor feslthom. ‘The good will alwaya reverence what -is great, and feel for what was great. Dr. Ferguson was & good man—how, then, could he look at that othor man, 8o great onco, 8o fallen now, without both awe snd pity ? ‘The case had been pronounced a hopeless one. The patient was not violent, not outwordly st least, though there. was -something of the wild beest about him—in the red glare of his eye ; in the limba that groveled and crouclied, s if the right was theirs no longer to stand upright upon God's beautiful earth ; in the sharp, sadden cry :xh“d alone broke the dreary eilence in which he ved, - © 'The keepers were half afraid of him—afraid to meot Lis nfie, to enter hia lair. If the doctor feared anything, it was to betray to tho man sho was 8o infinitoly greater than himself the pity that he felt for im. For, spito of all his care, and tho skill that was littlolcss than miraculous, the caso b= GREW MORE HOPELESS day by day,. Day by day the maniac’s cheek grew mora hollow, his eye more sunk ; the frame, onco erect and strong as that of a Hercu- les, more gaunt, and shrunk, and bent. Yet he did not sicken ; he was not ill jeand; if he suf- fered, it was in silence. ‘Had he not once been great—so great—force, the triumph_of the many over tlo ouo, would have compelled obedionco to tho rules of tho house. His rags would have been taken from him ; the long hair with which woman_fingers bad so rapturously toyed, now tangled into a hideous mass, wou!d bave becn cut and combed ; the food, from which the gnasking tecth turned in loathing, would have been forced between them to prolong a life, and such a life! *+ \Yhy, if the man starves he'll die, won’t be?” quoth good, simple Mrs. Ferguson one day. She had sat down very hungry to dinner, aod folt all the bettor for two juicy slices of roast beef. Not understanding” how any one, sven s madman, could refuse good, wholesome food, shs bhad heard with horror that the patient who paid so0 handsomely bad sctually not tasted mnoything for twe days.: '*‘ Shouldn’t you make him eat, my dear?” %5 . The doctor looked anxious and irotbled. To his care had been committed the atricken life ; his daty it was to prolong it to the. utmost—but how? “Must he use forco? have the man, so grand still even in his-dire huamuliation, seized, bound, -held- down, grappled wich, like soma common malefactor? = One other chanca there waa— . 2 THE LAST. He had heard of it Laving once been tried. It might be a-mere tale; half, nay more than half, we read is false; but it was a chance, and he would try g Dr. Ferguson had a little daughter. Buch a litlle daughter, sucha weo specimen of humanity ‘was she, that her frlends had christened her Midge, and then, asif in very mockery, added the word littls to the sobriquet. A Now ‘little Midge was no stranger to papa's poor poople; nearly all of them sho kuaw, some of them slié loved. Bhe was quite familiar with thair ways too, and not & bit afraid of them—no, not even when they made big eyes at her, orfluefi out ab her from bskind thoir iron bar, calling her by namens ahe wandered smong bor flowers. So when papa, looking careworn and troubled, found her out, ana asked her very softly if'she would go with him to soe a poor man who was £0-bad that he would certainly die unless something could be done to help him, sha g}'uely nodded her head, as if she understood im perfectly, which no doubt she did; for, though the weest of wea women, she was mighty wise, having already learot ever so much from— Cxperinncs. * Do you remember, darling. how you got old Parker 10 give up swearing, beoause it mads you ery?. and Liow you coaxed old Mre. Maceleby into changing her stockings 2" “Am I to make your poor man change his stockings, paps ?" This victory over the sfockings had been ths hardest won, and therefore the most’ glorious of our heroine’s life. And she now put on'a look of determinstion that said, plainer than’ words, #1'll do it again, if X must.” The doctor smiled ; his littlo girl could always make him smile, however full his heart might be of care and trouble. Ho did not szy what was expected of her; be only told ber what ho had read of & poor maniso who had loved a litile child ; and this bad madoe bim thinkof her s his 1ast hope. “Will you coms, dear 2" . He held out bis hand; she fook it, and went dancing ' and skipping at his side, untilall at once she durted off, and then baclk sgain, & half- open rose in her ezger grasp. . “I THOUGHT HE MIGHT LIKE IT, paps, you know ; they sometimes do.” he alwaya called papa’s poor peopls they ; for her thoy constituted a distinct world, apart from that otber world that lay beyond. the gates, and of which she know s yet 50 little. Alidge wes notthedoctor'sonlychild; butit wes not becunse there wore many other little oncs that he loved her less. On tho contrary, sd where there ars .many, ye nnznmlli single out the one, Midge was papa's pet and his constant companion—Dpaturally enough, for she loved his soarlp?nplo, and iz flowers, and himself, oh, so enrlyl - v It is terrible fo seo those we. love exposed to danger ; it is more terrible still when we our- selves 6xpose them 1o that danger. Hand in band and silent, becausa both deep tn thought, they walked cu togother; the little fin- ars clinging t(ghllg about tho man's big thumb, Efloutly they passed along the dim, echoing pas- sages till they stopped before s cerlain door. Very pale the father's face bad "grown by this tims, and even over thiat of the young ohild s shadow of awe had scolen. - ® A man paced np and down, mounting guard. | %pve brought my little girl, thought the sight of her might do him good. * The man started, and looked from father to child in blank smazement. He kuow that Miss Mary went in and ous among the poor pationts, and did more good with her pretty baby waya le staff put togethar. . Lot far her to enter that room—to look upon that man! 4 I¢'ll never do, mr. He's worse than ever this afternoon,.and 3 5 I LOOKS DREADFUL. A wild sound—balf moan, kalf howl—the irre- ressible cry of mm;f!ld rage, and. despair, fail- Exg dresr and desolzto on the shaddering ear! The strong hand tightened its hold of the small fingers, finttering ax if to get fres; the doctcr turued his looks down upon the wistfal, eager 1ace. 4 Yon are not frightened, darling 7" * No, papa.” j i A pauso,—a silence within a8 withont. TFather and child wero looking into sach other’s eyes. You witl go in, dear, alone ?” 4 Yes, paps.” I Then the doctor opened the door, the child passed in alone ; and the father’s hand closed the door behird her. He knew thatit mustbe so. The half-open door—the pale, anxious face peeping in—mizht arouse the man's auspicions and excito his rage. Toa well he knew tho dn@iv‘ar to which the little ono was oxposed ; but in hor lay his last hope, and Gad wonld take care of her. ‘The strong hand, nerved to calm, lay roady on the door; the straining ear was echooled to lia- ten. No sound at firat ; not even the child's ro- ceding footsteps, for they fell inaudible in that padded room. ’ A life-long agony in one brisf moment of sus- pense, then A SHAEP, STDDEX CRY. Not s call forhelp; bat the involuntary ety of pain, grief, pr fear. Had he, egainst whom iv had seemod a eacrilege to nso violence. now used it againat the little helpless child who bad come tosavehim? Hzd he, with his lost greatness, Tost, too, every spark of bumanity, becoming something lower than the beasts ? The door was burst open; doctor and keeper ‘bo:h stood in the room. No regard for the man's feclings now! He should 0o eeized, bonzd, No matter what becaae of himif he tho child. . S “Midge—little Midge !" to her father's arms, her own about his neck. “0 popa it stung me. It hurts mo so; and— - and it has left its sting in, and will dis; mamma told me it would. Poar little bee I" And that wasall! It was tho sting of the bee, avd not the gripe of the maniac, that had called forth that piteous cry. ** Never mind, darling. I will take you to mamma.” So the child was carried ont, and transfarred from the father's to the mother's arms. The bee that had 8o cruelly wounded the hitle hand crawled away to die, and tho half-opon roso lay at the madman's feet, his eye down-bent upon it. And the child sprang CHAPTER IT. by The wonnd_healed—the bee doad—the ross withered ! Wora the next fow days o bring no other chanze ? Was_tho doctor's last cttempt st?nfl?“ the doomed life to have no better re- On the day following the events al 0- corded, Midge asked papa if she might ‘?g\;e:m to tho biack man's Toom to look'for ihe ey “For if it must die, papa, you know, wonldn't it be much nicer for it fo” dis outamong the flowers than in o dark ugly hole ?" : It was soldom the father said “No™ to his little daugbter's *MayI?" He certainly did notin the prosent inatance. Soshke went to look forthe beco; and no way abashed by the wild looks of the maniac, who stood pressed up against the wall, Lis srms tosued above Lis hoad, shrinkivg and cowering like soma cagod znyry beast, she WALKED STRAIGHT UP TO IDY, and Sushing and pouting, becauss feoling rathor shy aud o very much i carnest. she sai : **Will you como aud Lelpme look for the bee ? I want to find ‘it, sud carry it out to the flowers—" * Yestorday it stung yon," interrupted the man with gloomy bitterness, looking down at her whore she stood, #0 far below lum that the great mad eyes lost half their fiorcenees before they renchied her face. He bad not forgotten what hieliad eeon sud heard. _“It did hurt very much”—looking down, meif- pitying, at the mite of o band a0 lovingly swathed and bandaged—‘“but it's quite well now, and the poor beo will die—namma says so—and paps let me coms and look forit. It wasin therosal broughs vou yosterday.” . Tho rose sno had bronght him! How often had roses been brought to him before—placed in his bution-hole; laid st his feei; given in ex- clizugs for a smilo, a jewel, a box at the opera. a Liss of the littlo band that offered it. Roses a8 well a5 lzarels fall to the share of the great; and. the. esger hend, outstretched to grasp the one, t00 often allows the othor to be placed n it ingtead. TFame and love! Both his once—both lost to him now. Vs it of the lost love and its summer roses be thought, as his softensd glance fell on the young cbild’s upturned face ? *Yon't you help me #” He did not 2uywer—ho was thinking, thinking deeply. Inthe room so csarefully examined, o catefaily padded, thoro were no cracks or crane nies, no crevice even, where a-poor. littlo bes that felt thoronghly asbamed of itself counld creep away to hide. Midge's protoge therefors was soon found, and secured ina large leaf brought for the purpose. Then Nidge held out her hand to the black man, who seemed to havs forgotten her presence, **You would liks to see it put back on the flow- ors, wouldn't you?" 2 Ha certainly did ot give her bis hand, yot her weo fingers had soon closed about 1t, and sie was quietly LEADING HTY TOWARDS TIE DOOE. #Wou't youputonahat? Papa alwaysdoes.” The fashionable chimney-pot screening ths wild head, - the sinister btrow, tke darkling eys! When Lad he last wom one? Walking down Piccadilly, the hand- some dandy almost as much run after for bis beauty as Lis genius, perfamed locks, calm eagle glance, and stately bearing. Would tie envious rin.l,? tho doting women, have recogmzed him now Thipking, thinking desply atill, ho allowed himself to be led on; the guiding impulse of thoss weak, clinging fingers more resistiess than the iron band of force; for who would have tha beart to sbake it off ? Btep by step she led him on to the door, which seemed to open of itaelf to set him fres, and out into the corridor. Three men stood thers: the doctor sud two keepers hidden by tho angle of the wall. Her eves bent wistfnlly on the big leaf gathered up into her wonnded band, littlo Midge prused them by, uonoticad. 3 Did the woman's tender Instinct tell her that they must be passed unseen? that, clinging to the poor, pzle hand, she must dras him silently on, nearer to hersolf, farther from those who wers his judges and bis jailers. Whon would he awake from the fit of abatrac- tion into which he had been thrown by her rose and swoet face? A rush of air blowing about his uncovered hoad, the dcadly faintnees that Beizes on tha frame exhausted by long confine- ment. He looked up and around him. - That ses of vivid poonday light, tha blowing, fresh, ex- ultant breezs ; light and sir, and no escape from either now! Tha glories of Naturs around him ; and he who worshiped her instead of God, drew a desp, gasping breath, resled, and BANK TO HIS KNEES. Tho child was on her knees too. Shs had found the bush from which the rose bad been gathered, and very gently she laid the bes down among its leave The beo found snd earried off, there was no reason why little Midge should sgain visit the dark bare room, about whoss huahed walls huag an atmosphere of gloom and terror, Bui chil- dren bave their whims as well 2s their elders, and Midge evidently took a particular interost in the black man (sho called him so because of his scowling looks, for Lis eyes wers as blue a8 bors, and the tangled mane, Lad it been less tangled, would Lave been slmost as bright) ; and scarce o day passed but she would get Rodgers to open the door, that swang so noise- lessly on its hinges, aud, ekipping up to the dis- tant corner where he cowered and brooded the long bideous hours through, she would laugh up in Lis face sud pluck him by the hand, dano- ing aboul it, and leading him on, as she had done that first day, tolight, and alr, and free- dom. - But not always was he obedient to her child's will. If s bands were folded high up ou his broad breast, she could nof reach them. If be scowled upon her when she mmiled, the amiles would die away, and sho would pout, and blnsh, snd growshy; snd somotimes, Iz vary shame, hide away her face on Lis knee. One day, when ho sat on the leathern weat fastoned to the wall, his hesd dropped back againet it, his eyos fixed and deepairing, finding his look mors ead than fierce, and hearing how ha muttered to himself, she clambered up to kis sido, and asked him eagerly if he were telling himsolf a story. Nurse somotimes told har stories, and gum; but they hadn't much time. Papa had told hersuch a pratty story that morn- ing. Then, seeing that the groat eyes had tarn- od from vacancy to her face, she nestled up aloser, and, getting . within the shelter of his arm, her fingers siraying about his, her Lright hzir over his breast,- EHE TOLD HIM TEX STORY. After that papa very often told Lis little daughter storfes, and, when shbe repeated them to the man, he listencd. Wo bave £aid that the keepers, big, stalwart men, wers mora then balf afraid of the patient whom they dare not treat Like any other poor, raving fool ; buy, strangs to say, little Midge, whose life iz uplifted hand could &0 essily have crushed out of her,waa nevers bit afraidof him. Once only he frightened ber and meade her cry—when he killed a bright batterfly sbe had brought to show him, and then laughed its deaths and her tears to scorn. How often had he perhaps, in the wanton ernelty of bis strength and power, destroyed somo creature ecarcely lesabright and fral than the buttorfly be had but to touch to kill! Put when littis Midge huddled the dead in- sect up in hier apronand lefthim ; whon he beard the 'small, angry fect pattering slong the corridor, snd the sobs dying avway in the distance, he felt sorry, and .called Midze, little Midge!” echoing the cry he d e often beard when, from behind their iron bers, papa's poor peonls wou!d call out to her 28 slie waodared among ber flowers. Pat Midze did not come back,—&nd he fell into » train of thought,—thought of the past, and of facan thet the child's, in ita pretty, tendsr potu- Iance, Lad coujured up. Not ihe faces whose looxs had Lurnt into his goal, making of love something worse than a passion,—= . madness; but of otlrers that had umiled, and frowned, aod beamed upon bim; that would have been so beautiful if seen by the megic light of Aome,— that were besutifal when looked back upon now. * PRETTY, SILLY, BPOILT CHILD," ho mattered, haif asgry with himself for havlng vexed her, half angry-with ber for heving left him. Then he lauzied, and, rising to his full height, shook back the tangled masses of his hair with the old. caceless movement, halt petulant, half defisat.. 1 some envious rissl could bave seen the maniae now, would ho have ucainizad bim ? At least eome fond' woman might, I think. + Well, really, if I don’t believe the caild will make something of the oot fellow atterall?” gid good. compassionate. Jra.. Ferguson one day, 24 she 8200d. at- the drawing-room window looking out -upon the gardsn. 1 declara if eho baso't. got “hold of his hair, combing it Hirooktr with er ngers, anl lsaghing &t wo Kill a8 nhe shows him each soparate curl” And the mother laughed, too, with sheer 3 1 athy contagious was the child's mirth, T‘;pmp"o:: go! hnndarukmg to shave him next. gul 8ee how she hangs about him, with all that nasty h:gdg:'er his face too! But she alwavrs s an oddily, waan't sho, John? Al 3.\:!1 s ;.‘ms fellow, aud not so ‘_nldf]lnokiux_::d ;n&lg i ?"\u' little Midge hanging aliout Lim—ech, But the doctor did not answer; b His eyes wero fizad upos Sat T ek, Flssrsd mera i Pon tho man end cluld, and Tt is strange he cnfim:!i;x T af 0w that of which i £ great » trounle anotber will oaly Tear i The responsibility that waighed g0 hoavily on thy doctor's mind, lining his brow and turaing his hair prematurely grav, little Midge took npon berssif as lighitly as-did her poor bes its burden of honey culled amcng her roses; and so the pa- tient, who was to tho father a ceaseless sonvea of anxiety, was for her but a3 a now plasthing, too pleasant ever to weary of. Throuzh ths long, bright summer-day S SHE PLAYED WITH HTY, combing out his Lair with her own small nursary- consb, and laughing, gleeful, and trinmphzat, as she saw how it glittered in tho sunlight, and bow much prettier it made him look., Through the long, soft summor-twilights sho piayed with him too. nestling up into lis arms, which wers not opened 1o receive hor, but into which she crept with the most perrect confidence, a8 if thoy could but have been made 80 big and strong to =fford ber sheiter; and oace theve she would whisper odd, foolish things, or tall him stories, to which he listened becsuge hor voico was sweet ; which Lie remembered because thoy recalled the past and get him areaming. And sometimer, zs’even- ing deoponed, worn out with the hideons wako- fulnees of the vision-h=anted night, he wontd Iay down the pale, grizzly head upon tho bab; 1ap, the soft arma foldsd somewbicra abont 1y aud his rest would be all thae swecter for their contact. Little Midgo the only friend 2nd compan- fon of him who had onca “the world at his fect—his own gay, fashionable world, and all that it held of grace and beanty. Women, solt, wild, meok, passiorate, be uad bad but to choose, who, if they had not really loved, bad professed to worship him ; and nowonly the lictle child to cling about him, and romind him of what ho hzd lost, tha last link between him sud the brilliant past.. . And has he, after all, lost somuch? Yonth, and grace, and beauty, and love, ars hia still ; something else too thai was never his before,— FAITH IN THEM ALL. Will not the lovo of woman, ii it is ever again to be his, seem to him scmething mors rezl, mora reliable, after that innocent, perfect love ? Will nat henceforth the woman's weskuees or ths woman's sin meet with mora pity and lesa scorn a8 he remombers that, hawever loat now, she was once 'zood and innocent Iike little Midge, and capable perhapa of de- Yotion as great ? ‘I'lie summer—smch & glorious summer !—had come, and Lingered, and pasred, and the doctor, %0 sbsorbed in his anxious dnties, - scarce noted the change of the season ; but littls Midge did, all to plainly. *We have zaid that sho was a wea, {rail thing, a3 frail almost au the insect whoss namo she bore,—a dzinty creatare born to hivoe f.hmugh the snmmer-day, and dis when the sun set. Woll, little Midgs bad watohed out many sunsets with her big friend, so she had mors than lived out ber day ; and, when the autuma succeeded the summer, tho child was misscd from her fzvorite haunts,—from the pak, the gardan, her friond's room,—no longer ths bare, ugly room, for somnething of its lost grace and gancs 'Lad been restored to his life now that ho comld once more appreciate them. Yet I think ho wonld gladly havo renounced it all to hava had back his child- compenion and her wayward carcsses. He did not say to himself that he mis:ed ler. but his ve - €2ddéned, and, as it saddened, it foftensd For how could he think of her without at tao. the same time thioking of all with whici her in- nocent young life had been connectod ?—and such -thoughts -are gentie and guod. Frenzy tuinad to sorrow, On the man's darkened brow Izy theshadow of & troubled thought, and some- thing more; somothing that would never have been there save for that awful vieitation and the young child's ministry of lova. All that wasover mow. Little Midga 3 COULD DO NOTHING MORE FOR HIM or any one else. Whr, she could harily lift her Iittle weary head from the yof2-cuskions, orraiso her hand to whero the sunbeaxs - danced about tte wall zo. tantalizingly in Ler reach. And, Jring thas aiono often,—for peps bhad %0 much to do, und mame bud msny inore little oues, 23 we know,—idga would long for the mzn who had beon every- thing %o hor, or to whor zho bad baen eve: thing,—the child never paused to reason which ; Jong for him more thau for air or ilowera, or birds, or inzects, or all the other things that had made her summer-life 5o braatifal. Aad, ths Ionging growing more tlian sko could Leat, & told paps. “ Bring » madman 1nto onr own private rooms, and lezve him alona with the child!" cried tuo mother, sghast. ‘Do you think that would bLe sefe, my dear 7 . "And tha doctor snswered, sdlomnly, * T do. Bo the man came, end way to the sufferin, child all that she had onco been to bim. I baud at whose touch woman Lad tbrille whose clasp bad been esteemed favor; whose power, s tha int proter of the soul had 'besn so cirantic. n played with the bright curls, smoothing and ca: rossing them. If shie could 1o longer talt him stories, her voice being so weak. ehe listoned te the =mtories hs bad to tell, aud, hstenine, #ha forgot to suffer. Bomotimes, worn out with the watchfuluess of tho fever-haunted nights, sl would lay the pretty, nestling Load npon bis lap or within the cradla of his arm, and her rest would be all the sweoter for its contact. Holding her thus,—mesting the firac awaken- ing look of hor eyes, so full of longing Rat: —strango thoughts, holy nd calm, would c: into his heart; throush light, the boasted I of reason, into darkress so decp, 80 appaili throngh darkness, the darknaes of the shadow of death, back again into light. Who s2id that our work was over when God's hand lud yon ow, little Midge ? . . In the dear ghelter of his arms, slone,—Ler 1ast look fastened ou his face.— SIDGE DIZD. They wonld gladly have held her back, thoso strong, protecting arms: but thsy contd uot pra- ent daatis comiteg, mud they had to 1ay har anide in the hittle coflin, that was a thing altogether pitsful tolook at, €0 wee and light ‘it was. Bhe was carried without the walls to be buried, and two men only followed her to tha grave,— her father and the friend on whose arm Le leant for suprort, in whose sympathy, 80 true, &0 deep, ho found his best consolation. A fnonth after tho graat 1ron gates had opaned to let tha little coftin pzss out, thoy opaned wida once more, and the men over whore life the storm had passed like soms Lideons vanihing dream, leaving behind no tracs more bitter thnn s vagne, solemn memory, went forth, and felf that the world lay once niore before bim. Bilently as ha hiad entered the honse, #o ailent - Iy ho left it. On its threshold the master atood fobid him rood-by, aud bowed low before bim bis uncovered head, unable to look up into the poble, shadowod face for the zonra that blinded him. ' In srlonce their hands met and dropped apart. 3 + Guood-by, Ferguson; God bless vom, and— thank you. T wbiall never forgec all that I owe . v “3e! you owe me nothing.” Both men koew . ALL THAT THE WORDI BIPLIED. 8o Midge's friend went Lack to the world that was waiting for him. Would it find him less at than whon it hed first run after him? ui‘crikg will not say so, nor will we. - With his futare we have nothing to do, but leave him to pard through the gates in silenco, a8 if following the littls angel-guide wno seemed to have gono first to lead the way. ‘The solemn lessons of tho ' past, the eat work ~of the future; the man standing between tio two in the fail strengil 8tilf of undiminisbed porer, in the full fooding sunlight of that vivid noonday sun, light and air, around ‘him,—the breath of faith, the light of truth ; no need to shrink from either RoW,—now and for evermora. The dector stood barebeaded on the threshold and watched bira go, then with a kigh he turned ; but the hoase looked darlk aud drear within, and withont all wan £o bright, #o calm, 50 beautiful. Not far from tueporch wastle little plot of froand that 3idgo bad called Ler gardon ; the doctor often wont there: he went thers now, and, stooping, picked & weod from her {svonta bed. From earth aod the flowers sho bhad so0 ‘loved he looked upward to the bright, blue, joyous sky. Vhy isit that, when w-iury our dead dezp down in the esrth, we look upwarda, and not down'wards, when seak- iog them ? it not the involuatary impalse of faith following the iostinctive cry of thesod), “ He is not there ; ho ia risen " 4 SITDOE—LITTLE MIDGE {” Tt was but the silent cry of the fsther’s haart, yot he heard it echosd close st hind ; some madman calling it out from bebind his prison- bers. It was poor old Pazker, who never could bo mads to understand thst 3lidzs was dead, and that it muat palo tho dactar to hear her name when sie wasno longer there to answer toit. . o Alidge—1ittle Midgel™ ° Tiso dactor looked up moddad and smfled,— Tinsteys’ Magazine. -