CHAPTER X.

WITHOUT venturing the remotest allusion to her parting with her lover, Miss Ballantine commenced her narrative by saying--

"When I left New York with my father, for New Orleans, no voyage could have promised fairer. Mild, sunny weather, with good breezes and a noble ship, that scarcely seemed to feel the deep swell of the ocean, bore us pleasantly on towards the desired port. But, when only five days out, an awful calamity befel us. One night I was awakened from sleep by a terrific crash; and in a little while the startling cry of 'the ship's on fire!' thrilled upon my ear, and sent an icy shudder to my heart. I arose from my berth, and put on my clothes hastily. By this time my father had come, dreadfully agitated, into the cabin; and while his own lips quivered, and his own voice trembled, he endeavored to quiet my fears, by telling me that there was no danger; that the ship had been struck with lightning; but that the fire occasioned thereby would readily be put out.

"When I ascended to the deck, however, I saw that we had little to hope for. While the masts and rigging were all enveloped in flame, a dense smoke was rising from the hold, indicating that the electric fluid, in its descent through the ship, had come in contact with something in the cargo that was highly combustible. Passengers and crew stood looking on with pale, horror-stricken faces. But the captain, a man of self-possession, aroused all from their lethargy by ordering, in a loud, clear voice, the masts and rigging to be cut away instantly. This order was obeyed. Over went, crashing and hissing, three noble masts, with their wealth of canvas, all enveloped in flames, quenching the heaven-enkindled fires in the ocean. Then all was breathless and silent as the grave for some moments, when a broad flash lit up the air, and revealed, for an instant, the dismantled deck upon which we stood, followed by a pealing crash that made the ship tremble. The deep silence that succeeded was broken by the voice of the captain. His tones were cheerful and confident.

"'All will now be well!' he cried. 'We are saved from fire, and our good hull will bear us safely up until we meet a passing ship.'

"'But there is fire below, captain,' said one.

"'It cannot burn without air,' he replied, in the same tone of confidence. 'We will keep the hatches closed and sealed; and it must go out.'

"This took a load from my bosom. I saw that what he said was reasonable. But when daylight came, it showed the smoke oozing out through every crevice in the deck. The floors, too, were hot to the feet, and indicated an advanced state of the fire within. All was again terror and confusion, but our captain still remained self-possessed. He saw that every hope of saving the ship was gone; and at once ordered all the boats made ready, and well stored with provisions. To the first and second mates, with a portion of the crew, he assigned two of the boats, and in the third and largest he embarked himself with four stout men and the passengers, twelve in all. The sky was still overcast with clouds, and the sea rolled heavily from the effects of the brief but severe storm that had raged in the night. Pushing off from the doomed vessel, we lingered near for a couple of hours to see what her fate would be. At the end of that time, the dense smoke which had nearly hidden her from our view, suddenly became one enveloping mass of flame. It was a beautiful, yet appalling sight, to see that noble vessel thus burning upon the breast of the sea! For nearly an hour her form, sheeted in fire, stood out distinctly against the face of the sky, and then she went down, and left only a few charred and mutilated fragments afloat upon the surface to tell of her doom.

"During the night that followed, it stormed terribly, and in it our boat was separated from the other two. We never met again, and for all I have ever learned to the contrary, those that were saved in them from the burning ship perished from hunger, or were overwhelmed by some eager wave of the ocean.

"The four men of the ship's crew, with the captain and the male passengers, labored alternately at the oars, but with little effect. Heavy seas, and continued stormy weather, rendered of little avail all efforts to make much headway towards any port. Our main hope was that of meeting with some vessel. But this hope mocked us day after day. No ship showed her white sails upon the broad expanse of waters that stretched, far as the eye could reach, in all directions. Thus ten days passed, and our provisions and water were nearly exhausted. Three of the passengers had become already very ill, and all of us were more or less sick from exposure to the rain and sea. On the twelfth day, two of our number died and were cast overboard. Others became sick, and by the time we had been floating about thus for the space of twenty days, only four of the twelve remained. Most of them died with a raging fever. The captain was among the number, and there was now no one to whom we could look with confidence. My father still lived, though exceedingly ill. Our companions were now reduced to a young man and his sister.

"A bag of biscuit still remained, and a small portion of water. Of this, none but myself could eat. The rest were too sick. Three days more passed, and I was alone with my father! The brother and his sister died, and with my own hands I had to consign them to their grave in the sea. I need not attempt to give any true idea of my feelings when I found myself thus alone, with my father just on the brink of death, afar in the midst of the ocean. He was unconscious; and I felt that I was on the verge of delirium. A strong fever made the blood rush wildly through my veins, causing my temples to throb as if they would burst. From about this time consciousness forsook me. I can recollect little more until I found myself lying in a berth, on board of a strange vessel. I was feeble as an infant. A man, with the aspect of a foreigner, sat near me. He spoke to me, but in a foreign tongue. I understood, and could speak French, Spanish, and Italian; but I had never studied German, and this man was a Hollander. Of course, I understood but a word here and there, and not sufficient to gain any intelligence from what he said, or to make him comprehend me, except when I asked for my father. Then he understood me, and pointing across the cabin, gave me to know that my father was with me in the ship, though very sick.

"Small portions of nourishing food were now offered at frequent intervals, and, as my appetite came back keenly, and I took the scanty supply that was allowed me, I gradually gained strength. In a week I was able to leave my berth, and to walk, with the assistance of the captain of the vessel, for he it was whom I had first seen on the restoration of consciousness, to the state room in which my father lay. Oh! how he had changed! I hardly recognized him. His face had grown long and thin, his eyes were sunken far back in his head, and his hair, that had been scarcely touched with the frosts of age when we left New York, was white! He did not know me, although he looked me feebly in the face. The sound of my voice seemed to rouse him a little, but he only looked at me with a more earnest gaze, and then closed his eyes. From this time I was his constant nurse, and was soon blessed with finding him gradually recovering. But as health came back to his body, it was too appallingly visible that his reason had been shattered. He soon came to know me, to speak to me, and to caress me, with more than his usual fondness; but his mind was--alas! too evidently--imbecile. As this state of mental alienation showed itself more and more distinctly, on his gradually acquiring physical strength, it seemed as if the painful fact would kill me. But we are formed to endure great extremes of bodily and mental anguish. The bow will bend far before it breaks.

"After I had recovered so as to leave my berth entirely, and when, I suppose, the captain thought it would be safe to question me, he brought a map, and indicated plainly enough that he wished me to point out the country I was from. I laid my hand upon the United States. He looked surprised. I glanced around at the ship, and then pointed to the map with a look of inquiry. He placed his finger near the Island of St. Helena. It was now my turn to look surprised. By signs I wished him to tell me how we should get back; and he indicated, plainly enough, that he would put us on board of the first vessel he met that was returning either to Europe or the United States, or else would leave us at the Cape of Good Hope. But day after day passed, and we met no returning vessel. Before we reached the Cape, a most terrific storm came on, which continued many days, in which the ship lost two of her masts, and was driven far south. It seemed to me as if my father and I had been doomed to perish in the ocean, and the sea would not, therefore, relinquish its prey. It was ten or twelve days before the storm had sufficiently abated to leave the vessel manageable in the hands of the captain and crew, and then the captain's reckoning was gone. He could get his latitude correctly, but not his longitude, except by a remote approximation. His first observation, when the sky gave an opportunity, showed us to be in latitude forty-five degrees south. This he explained to me, and also the impracticability of now making the Cape, pointing out upon the map the Swan River Settlement in Australia as the point he should endeavor first to make. A heavy ship, with but one mast, made but slow progress. On the third day another storm overtook us, and we were driven before the gale at a furious rate. That night our vessel struck and went to pieces. Six of us escaped, my father among the rest, and the captain, in a boat, and were thrown upon the shore of an uninhabited island. In the morning there lay floating in a little protected cove of the island barrels of provisions, as pork, fish, bread, and flour, with chests, and numerous fragments of the ship, and portions of the cargo. The captain and sailors at once set about securing all that could possibly be rescued from the water, and succeeded in getting provisions and clothing enough to last all of us for many months, if, unfortunately, we should not earlier be relieved from our dreadful situation. My father had become strong enough to go about and take care of himself, but his mind was feebler, and he seemed more like an old man in his second childhood than one in the prime of life as he was. He was not troublesome to any one, nor was there any fear of trusting him by himself. He was only like an imbecile old man--and such even the captain thought him.

"A thing which I failed to mention in its place, I might as well allude to here. On recovery from that state of physical exhaustion in which the humane captain of the Dutch East Indiaman had found me, my hand rested accidentally upon the pocket of my father's coat, which hung up in the state room that had been assigned to him. His pocket-book was there. It instantly occurred to me to examine it, and see how much money it contained, for I knew that, unless we had money, before getting back, we would be subjected to inconvenience, annoyance, and great privation; and as my father seemed to be so weak in mind, all the care of providing for our comfort, I saw, would devolve upon me. I instantly removed the pocket-book, which was large. I found a purse in the same pocket, and took that also. With these I retired into my own state-room, and fastening the door inside, commenced an examination of their contents. The purse contained twenty eagles; and in the apartments of the pocket-book were ten eagles more, making three hundred dollars in gold. In bank bills there were five of one thousand dollars each, ten of one hundred dollars, and about two hundred dollars in smaller amounts, all of New York city banks. These I took and carefully sewed up in one of my under garments, and also did the same with the gold. I mention this, as it bears with importance upon our subsequent history.

"A temporary shelter was erected; a large pole with a white flag fastened to it, as a signal to any passing vessel, was set up; and the captain, with two of his men, set out to explore the island. They were gone for two days. On returning, they reported no inhabitants, but plenty of good game, if any way could be devised to take it. No vessel appearing, after the lapse of some twelve or fifteen days, the men set about building for us a more comfortable place of shelter. One of these had been a carpenter, and as an axe and saw, and some few tools, had come ashore on pieces of the wreck, and in chests, he was enabled to put up a very comfortable tenement, with an apartment for me partitioned off from the main room.

"Here we remained for I can scarcely tell how long. It was, I believe, for about a year and a half: during which time two of the men died, and our party was reduced to four. About this period, when all of us began to feel sick from hope deferred, and almost to wish that we might die, a heavy storm came up, with wind from the north-west, and blew heavily for three or four days. On the morning of the fourth day, when the wind had subsided, a vessel, driven out of her course, was seen within a few leagues of the land. Signals were instantly made, and our eyes gladdened by the sight of a boat which was put off from the ship. In this we soon embarked, and, with a sensation of wild delight, found ourselves once more treading the deck of a good vessel. She was an English merchantman, bound for Canton. We made a quick passage to that port, where we found a vessel just ready to sail for Liverpool. In this I embarked, with my father, who still remained in the same sad state of mental derangement. No incident, worthy of referring to now, occurred on our passage to Liverpool, whence we embarked direct for New Orleans, at which place we arrived, after having been absent from our native land for the long space of nearly three years! How different were my feelings, my hopes, my heart, on the day I returned to that city eight years from the time I left it as a gay child, with the world all new and bright and beautiful before me! I need not draw the contrast. Your own thoughts can do that vividly enough.

"You can scarcely imagine the eagerness with which I looked forward to an arrival in my native city. We had friends there, and a fortune, and I fed my heart with the pleasing hope that skilful physicians would awaken my father's slumbering reason into renewed and healthy activity. Arrived there at last, we took lodgings at a hotel, where I wrote a brief note to my father's partner, in whose hands all the business had been, of course, during our absence, stating a few facts as to our long absence and asking him to attend upon us immediately. After dispatching this note, I waited in almost breathless expectation, looking every moment to see Mr. Paralette enter. But hour after hour passed, and no one came. Then I sent notes to two or three of my father's friends, whom I recollected, but met with no response during the day. All this strange indifference was incomprehensible to me. It was, in part, explained to my mind on the next morning, when one of the persons to whom I had written called, and was shown up into our parlor by request. There was a coldness and reserve about him, combined with a too evident suspicion that it was not all as I had said. That my father was not Mr. Ballantine, nor I his daughter--but both, in fact, impostors! And certain it is that the white-headed imbecile old man bore but little resemblance to the fine, manly, robust form, which my father presented three years before. The visitor questioned and cross-questioned me; and failed not to hint at what seemed to him discrepancies, and even impossibilities in my story. I felt indignant at this, at the same time that my heart sank at the suddenly flashing conviction that, after all our sufferings and long weary exile from our home, we should find ourselves but strangers in the land of our birth--be even repulsed from our own homestead.

"Our visitor retired after an interview of about half an hour, giving me to understand pretty plainly that he thought both my father and myself impostors. His departure left me faint and sick at heart. But from this state I aroused myself, after a while, and determined to go and see Mr. Paralette at once. A servant called a carriage, and I ordered the driver to take me to the store of Ballantine & Paralette.

"'There is no such a firm now, madam,' he said; 'Mr. Ballantine was lost at sea some years ago. It is Paralette & Co. now.'

"'Drive me there, then,' I said, in a choking voice.

"In a few minutes the carriage stopped at the place I had designated, and I entered the store formerly kept by my father. Though I had been absent for eight years, yet everything looked familiar, and nothing more familiar than the face of Mr. Paralette, my father's partner. I advanced to meet him with a quick step, but his look of unrecognition, and the instant remembrance that he had not attended to my note, and moreover that it had been plainly hinted to me that I was an impostor, made me hesitate, and my whole manner to become confused.

"'Eugenia Ballantine is my name,' said I, in a quivering voice. 'I dropped you a note yesterday, informing you that my father and I had returned to the city.'

"He looked at me a moment with a calm, severe, scrutinizing gaze, and then said--

"'Yes, I received your note, and have this moment seen Mr. ----, who called upon you. And he corroborates the instant suspicion I had that your story could not be correct. He tells me that the man whom you call your father resembles Moses a great deal more than he does the late Mr. Ballantine. So, you see, madam, that your story won't go for anything here.'

"There was something cold and sneering in the tone, manner, and expression of Mr. Paralette that completely broke me down. I saw, in an instant, that my case was hopeless, at least for the time. I was a lone, weak woman, and during an absence of eight years from my native city, I had grown up from a slender girl into a tall woman, and had, from suffering and privation, been greatly changed, and my countenance marred even since I had attained the age of womanhood. Under these circumstances, with my father changed so that no one could recognize him, I felt that to make my strange story believed would be impossible. From the presence of Mr. Paralette I retired, and went back to the hotel, feeling as if my heart would break. Oh, it was dreadful to be thus repulsed, and at home, too! I tried only twice more to make my story believed; failing in these efforts, I turned all my thoughts toward the restoration of my father to mental health, believing that, when this was done, he, as a man, could reassume his own place and his true position. I had over six thousand dollars of the money I had taken from my father's pocket-book, and which I had always kept so completely concealed about my person, that no one had the least suspicion of it. Five thousand of this I deposited on interest, and with the residue took a small house in the suburbs of the city, which I furnished plainly, and removed into it with my father. I then employed two of the most skilful physicians in the city, and placed him in their hands, studiously concealing from them our real names and history. For eighteen months he was under medical treatment, and for at least six months of that time in a private insane hospital. But all to no effect. Severe or lenient treatment all ended in the same result. He continued a simple, harmless old man, fond of me as a child is of his mother, and looking up to and confiding in me for everything.

"At the end of the period I have indicated, I found my means had become reduced to about three thousand dollars. This awoke in my bosom a new cause of anxiety. If my father should not recover his reason in two or three years, I would have nothing upon which to support him, and be compelled to see him taken to some public institution for the insane, there to be treated without that tenderness and regard which a daughter can exercise toward her parent. This fear haunted me terribly.

"It was near the end of the period I have named, that I met with an account of the Massachusetts Insane Hospital, situated in Charlestown in this State. I was pleased with the manner in which patients were represented to be treated, and found that, by investing in Boston the balance of my little property, the income would be sufficient to pay for my father's maintenance there. As for myself, I had no fear but that with my needle, or in some other way, I could easily earn enough to supply my own limited wants. A long conference with one of the physicians who had attended my father raised my hopes greatly as to the benefits which might result from his being placed in an institution so well conducted.

"As soon as this idea had become fully formed in my mind, I sold off all our little stock of furniture, and with the meagre supply of clothing to which I had limited myself, ventured once more to try the perils of the sea. After a quick passage, we arrived in Boston. My father I at once had placed in the asylum, after having invested nearly every dollar I had in bank stock, the dividends from which were guaranteed to the institution for his support, so long as he remained one of its inmates. This was early in the last fall. I had then but a few dollars left, and no income. I was in a strange city, dependent entirely upon my own resources. And what were they? 'What am I to do? Where am I to go for employment?' were questions I found hard indeed to answer. Twenty dollars were all I possessed in the world, and this sum, at a hotel, would not last me, I knew, over two or three weeks. I therefore sought out a private boarding-house, where, under an assumed name, I got a room and my board for two dollars a week. The woman who kept the boarding-house, and to whom I communicated my wish to get sewing, gave me half a dozen plain shirts to make for her husband, for which I received fifty cents each. This was all the work I obtained during the first two weeks I was in the house, and it yielded me only three dollars, when my boarding cost me four. I felt a good deal discouraged after that. I knew no one to whom I could go for work--and the woman with whom I boarded could not recommend me to any place, except to the clothing-stores: but they, she said, paid so badly that she would not advise me to go there, for I could not earn much over half what it would cost me for my board. Still, she added, 'half a loaf is better than no bread.' I felt that there was truth in this last remark, and, therefore, after getting the direction of a clothing-store, I went there and got a few pairs of coarse trowsers. This kind of work was new to me. In my ignorance, I made some portion of them wrong, for which I received abuse from the owner of the shop, and no money. He was not going, he said, to pay for having his work spoiled.

"Dreadfully disheartened, I returned to my lodgings, and set myself to ponder over some other means of support. I had been, while at school, one of the best French and Spanish scholars in the seminary. I had also given great attention to music, and could have taught it as skilfully as our musical professor. But five years had passed since I touched the keys of a piano or harp, and I had not, during that time, spoken a dozen words in any language except my native tongue. And, even if I had retained all my former skill and proficiency, my appearance was not such as to guarantee me, as a perfect stranger, any favorable reception either from private families or schools. So anxious had I been to make the remnant of my father's property, which a kind Providence had spared to us, meet our extreme need, that I denied myself everything that I could possibly do without. Having no occasion to go into society, for no one would recognize me as Eugenia Ballantine, I had paid little regard to my external appearance, so far as elegant and fashionable apparel was concerned. I bought sparingly, and chose only plain and cheap articles. My clothes were, therefore, not of a kind, as you may yourself see, to give me, so far as they were concerned, a passport to consideration.

"As two dollars a week would, I knew, in a very short time, exhaust my little stock of money, I determined to try and rent a room somewhere, at the lowest possible rate, and buy my own food. I eat but a little, and felt sure that, by making this arrangement, I could subsist on one dollar a week instead of two, and this much it seemed as if I must be able to earn at something or other. On the day after I formed this resolution I met, in my walks about the city for the purpose, with the room where you found me, for which I paid seventy-five cents a week. There I removed, and managed to live on about one dollar and a quarter a week, which sum, or, at the worst, seventy-five cents or a dollar a week, I have since earned at making fine shirts for Mr. Berlaps at twenty-five cents each. I could have done better than that, but every day I visit my father, and this occupies from two to three hours."

"And how is your father?" asked Mrs. Gaston, wiping her tearful eyes, as Eugenia paused on ending her narrative.

"He seems calmer, and much more serious and apparently thoughtful since he has been in this institution," Eugenia replied, with something of cheerfulness in her tone. "He does not greet my coming, as he did at first, with childish pleasure, but looks at me gravely, yet with tenderness, when I enter; and, when I go away, he always asks if I will 'come again to-morrow.' He did not do this at first."

"But have you not written to Mr. Perkins since your return?" asked Mrs. Gaston.

Eugenia became instantly pale and agitated. But, recovering herself with an effort, she simply replied--

"How could I? To him I had, years before, been lost in the sea. I could not exist in his mind, except as one in the world of spirits. And how did I, when I came back, or how do I know now, that he has not found another to fill that place in his heart which I once occupied? On this subject I dared make no inquiry. And, even if this were not the case, I am not as I was. I had fortune and social standing when he wooed and won me. Now I am in comparative indigence, and branded as an impostor in my native city. If none recognized and received us in our own home, how could I expect him to do so? And to have been spurned as a mere pretender by him would have broken my heart at once."

Eugenia was greatly moved by this allusion to her former lover and affianced husband. The subject was one upon which she had never allowed herself to think, except compulsorily, and but for a few moments at a time. She could not bear it. After a silence of some moments, Mrs. Gaston said--

"I have not met with or heard of Mr. Perkins for some years. He remained in Troy about six months after you went away, and, during that period, I saw him very frequently. Your loss seemed, for a time, as if it would destroy his reason. I never saw any one suffer such keen mental distress as he did. The fearful uncertainty that hung around your fate racked his mind with the intensest anguish. At the end of the time I have mentioned, he went to New York, and, I was told, left that city a year afterwards; but, whether it is so or not, I never learned. Indeed, I am entirely ignorant as to whether he is now alive or dead. For years I have neither heard of him nor seen him."

Eugenia wept bitterly when Mrs. Gaston ceased speaking. She did not reply, but sat for a long time with her hand partly concealing her face, her whole body trembling nervously, and the tears falling fast from her eyes. From this excitement and agitation, consequent upon a reference to the past, she gradually recovered, and then Mrs. Gaston related, in turn, her trials and afflictions since their separation so many years before. These we will not now record for the reader, but hurry on to the conclusion of our narrative.

By a union of their efforts, Mrs. Gaston and Eugenia were enabled, though to do so required them to toil with unremitting diligence, to secure more comforts--to say nothing of the mutual strength and consolation they received from each other--than either could have possibly obtained alone. The rent of a room, and the expense of an extra light, were saved, and this was important where every cent had to be laid out with the most thoughtful economy. Eugenia no longer went out, except to visit her father. Mrs. Gaston brought home as much work from the shop as both of them could do, and received the money for it when it was done, which all went into a common fund. Thus the time wore on, Eugenia feeling happier than she had felt for many weary years. Mrs. Gaston had been a mother to her while she lived in Troy, and Eugenia entertained for her a deep affection. Their changed lot, hard and painful though it was, drew them closer together, and united them in a bond of mutual tenderness.

New Year's day at last came, and the mother, who had looked forward so anxiously for its arrival, that she might see her boy once more, felt happier in the prospect of meeting him than she had been for a long time. Since his departure, she had not heard a single word from him, which caused her to feel painfully anxious. But this day was to put an end to her mind's prolonged and painful suspense in regard to him. From about nine o'clock in the morning, she began to look momently for his arrival. But the time slowly wore on, and yet he did not come. Ten, eleven, twelve, one o'clock came and went, and the boy was still absent from his mother, whose heart yearned to see his fair face, and to hear his voice, so pleasant to her ear, with unutterable longings. But still the hours went by--two, three, four, and then the dusky twilight began to fall, bringing with it the heart-aching assurance that her boy would not come home. The tears, which she had restrained all day, now flowed freely, and her over-excited feelings gave way to a gush of bitter grief. The next day came and went, and the next, and the next--but there was no word from Henry. And thus the days followed each other, until the severe month of January passed away. So anxious and excited did the poor mother now become, that she could remain passive no longer. She must see or hear from her child. Doctor R---- had obtained him his place, and to him she repaired.

"But haven't you seen your little boy since he went to Lexington?" the doctor asked, in some surprise.

"Indeed, I have not; and Mr. Sharp promised to bring him home on New Year's day," replied the mother.

"Mr. Sharp! Mr. Sharp!" ejaculated the doctor, thoughtfully. "Is that the name of the man who has your son?"

"Yes, sir. That is his name."

Doctor R---- arose and took two or three turns across the floor at this, and, then resuming his seat, said--

"You shall see your son to-morrow, Mrs. Gaston. I will myself go to Lexington and bring him home. I had no idea that the man had not kept his promise with you. And, as I got Henry the place, I must see that his master is as good as his word in regard to him."

With this assurance, Mrs. Gaston returned home, and with a lighter heart.

(To be concluded next month.)

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 9: Entered according to Act of Congress, by T. B. PETERSON, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.]

HISTORY OF PEARLS, NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL.

PEARLS are a shelly secretion of a spherical shape formed in a species of oyster, or pearl mussel, and said to be produced by a malady in the animal, which requires nearly seven years for its full development, after which the oyster dies. Small pearls which have been immersed in acetous acids, and thus reduced to their membranous constituents, have the appearance of being formed of concentric coats of membrane and carbonate of lime, thus resembling in composition the mother-of-pearl with which oyster-shells are lined. The precise origin of pearls is unknown, but it appears probable that some minute substance, such as a grain of sand, may have found its way into the shell and produced irritation, and that the animal, unable to expel it, renders it less injurious by covering it with calcareous matter. It is sometimes affirmed that, to produce pearls, the oyster must have received some external injury; and this is corroborated by the fact that nearly all the shells in which pearls are found are outwardly contorted, and that a smooth regular shell is a pretty sure sign of the absence of the pearl. It was therefore suggested to the Swedish government, by the celebrated Linnæus, to pierce small holes in the shell of the freshly-caught pearl oyster, and then restore it to its original bed. The experiment was tried, but without success. A somewhat similar plan is said to be adopted by the Chinese, and with favorable results. These ingenious people thread upon fine silk small beads of mother-of-pearl, and fasten them within the shells of pearl oysters, when they rise to the surface of the water at the beginning of summer. The animals are then restored to their bed, where they soon cover the beads with calcareous matter, and thus convert them into pearls.

In whatever way produced, pearls of considerable size, on account of their beauty and rarity, have been valued at enormous prices in past ages, and are still among the choicest objects of the jeweller's art. Their delicate and silvery lustre has been as widely celebrated as the brilliancy of the diamond. The Hindoos poetically describe them as drops of dew falling into the shells when the fish rise to the surface of the sea in the month of May, and becoming, by some unexplained action of the sun's rays, transformed into pearls.

Pearl fisheries exist in Ceylon, on the Coromandel coast, and in the Persian Gulf, the last-named being the most productive. Fisheries of less importance also exist in Algiers, and in the Zooloo Islands. Two thousand years ago, the Romans found pearls in Britain, and within modern times the rivers of Scotland have afforded considerable quantities, though not of the best quality. Several rivers of Saxony, Silesia, Bavaria, and Bohemia afford pearls, and they are also found in two or three Russian provinces. There are also pearl fisheries in the western hemisphere. The coast of Columbia and the Bay of Panama have furnished considerable quantities, but they are not considered equal to the pearls of the East in shape or color. Detailed accounts of the pearl fishery of Ceylon have been given by the Count de Noé and others, who have had ample means of watching the operations of the pearl-divers during a residence in that island. It appears that the pearl oysters occur in banks at greater or less depth in the sea on the western side of the island of Ceylon, the average depth, however, being about twelve fathoms, and the distance from the shore about fifteen miles. The right to fish on these banks is sold by the government every season, and a single auction sale is generally made to one individual, who afterwards disposes of shares in the fishery to other parties. The biddings at the auction are regulated by the produce of some thousands of oysters taken from the beds at hazard. If the average quality of pearls contained in them be good, the competition is strong in proportion.

The pearl fishery commences in April, and lasts till towards the end of May. It attracts a concourse of visitors not only from the interior of the island, but from various parts of India, whose diversities of language, dress, and manners produce a striking effect. The sea-shore, at other times solitary, is, on the eve of the fishery, suddenly covered with innumerable huts, composed of a few poles stuck in the ground, interwoven with bamboo and covered with the leaves of the cocoa-nut palm. These temporary dwellings often shelter as many as 150,000 persons. The signal for commencing the fishery is given at daybreak by the firing of cannon, and at that moment the several boats cast anchor in the fishing-ground, for at midnight they had left the shore in an extensive fleet, so as to be on the spot at the desired moment. Each boat has its own proper bounds, beyond which it is not lawful to work, and government vessels are on the spot to see that no infringement of contract takes place. The boats each carry a captain, a pilot, and twenty men, of whom ten are experienced divers. Five divers descend at once, the other five taking the plunge when the first ascend. Thus a little time is allowed for regaining strength. In order to descend as rapidly as possible through the water, the diver places his feet on a large stone made fast to one end of a rope, the other end being secured to the boat. He also takes another rope, to the end of which is attached a net, or basket, to contain the oysters. The upper extremity of this second rope is held by two men in the boat. The diver is also provided with a strong knife for detaching the oysters, and as a means of defence against sharks, which are very numerous in those seas, but which do not often attack the divers, being perhaps scared by the noise of the assemblage, and the continual plunging of so great a number of persons. The diver no sooner reaches the ground than he gathers oysters with all possible speed into his basket, and then letting go the rope to which the stone is attached, he pulls that which is held by the sailors, and rapidly ascends to the surface. Some divers make very dexterous use of their feet, holding the net with one foot, clasping the stone with the other, and thus leaving one hand free to close the nostrils, while the other hand holds the rope in descending.

The time during which the divers can remain submerged is variously stated, and no doubt it differs greatly according to the constitution of the individual. Some observers declare that, in their experience, it never exceeded fifty seconds; but Captain Percival, in his work on Ceylon, gives two minutes as the usual time of remaining under water.[10] Serious effects are produced by this employment, and the divers may frequently be seen with blood issuing from their mouth and nostrils. Yet this does not hinder them from going down in their turn. They will make from forty to fifty plunges in one day, and bring up on each occasion about one hundred oysters. Their day closes before noon; for, as soon as the sea-breeze sets in, the signal is given for the return of the boats to the shore. Their owners, and a large assemblage of persons of all classes, are eagerly looking out for the arrival of the flotilla, and are soon busily employed in examining and stowing away the cargoes.

Each owner has a shallow pit fenced round and secured for his own use, in which his store of oysters is deposited, and left open to the air. This pit, or _couttó_, as it is called, is in the midst of a group of huts belonging to the same owner, so that it is under guard of his party. Here the oysters are allowed to putrefy under a burning sun, and a stench arises from them which would seem enough to depopulate the shore of its thousands of inhabitants. Yet such is not the case. The health of the people does not appear to be materially affected, and the oysters are allowed to remain till dry, when they can be easily opened and the pearls extracted. To open them when fresh would require much greater force, and would be likely to injure the pearls. When the putrefaction is sufficiently advanced, the oysters are taken from the _couttó_, and placed in troughs made of the trunks of trees. Sea-water is thrown over them: they are easily opened, and render their pearls to the washing and shaking of a number of men who stand all on one side of the trough, while inspectors at each end closely watch their proceedings, and other inspectors examine the shells which are thrown away, lest they should contain some of the precious substance. The workmen engaged in washing pearls dare not lift their hands to their mouths under penalty of a flogging, yet a man will sometimes contrive to swallow a pearl of high price. After all the pearls are washed out, the largest are carefully picked out from the sand at the bottom of the troughs and washed repeatedly in clean water: the next in size are spread out on white napkins to dry in the sun. The remainder are left to the care of women, who pick them up and dry them. Pearls are assorted by means of three sieves placed one above another, the meshes in which are smaller as the pearls descend. Thus the pearls which will not pass through the uppermost sieve are of the first class, and so on with the others. Another assortment is made as to color, regularity of form, &c., and here the tastes of different nations have to be consulted. The Europeans prefer pure white pearls, the Indians yellow pearls, and the natives of Ceylon those which are tinged with rose-color.

Besides the number of persons who arrive in Ceylon in the fishing season for the purpose of speculating in pearls, there are also numerous Indian artisans who are very expert in piercing and drilling pearls, and who practise their trade on the spot on economical terms. A writer thus describes their operations: "A machine made of wood, and of a shape resembling an obtuse inverted cone, about six inches in length and four in breadth, is supported upon three feet, each twelve inches long. In the upper flat surface of this machine holes or pits are formed to receive the larger pearls, the smaller ones being beat in with a little wooden hammer. The drilling instruments are spindles of various sizes, according to that of the pearls; they are turned round in a wooden head by means of a bow handle, to which they are attached. The pearls being placed in the pits which we have already mentioned, and the point of the spindle adjusted to them, the workman presses on the wooden head of the machine with his left hand, while his right is employed in turning round the bow handle. During the process of drilling, he occasionally moistens the pearl by dipping the little finger of his right hand in a cocoa-nut filled with water, which is placed by him for that purpose; this he does with a dexterity and quickness which scarcely impede the operation, and can only be acquired by much practice. They have also a variety of other instruments both for cutting and drilling the pearls. To clean, round, and polish them to that state in which we see them, a powder, made of the pearls themselves, is employed. These different operations in preparing the pearls occupy a great number of the black men in various parts of the island. In the black town, or pettah of Columbo, in particular, many of them may every day be seen at this work, which is well worth the attention of any European who is not already acquainted with it."

MOTHER-OF-PEARL, or NACRE, is the hard, silvery, internal layer of several kinds of shells, especially oysters, the large varieties of which in the Indian seas secrete this coat of sufficient thickness to render the shell an object of manufacture. The genus of shell-fish, _Pentadinæ_, furnishes the finest pearls as well as mother-of-pearl: it is found round the coasts of Ceylon, near Ormus in the Persian Gulf, at Cape Comorin, and in some of the Australian seas. The dealers in pearl-shells consider the Chinese from Manilla to be the best: they are fine, large, and very brilliant, with yellow edges. Fine large shells of a dead white are supplied by Singapore. Common varieties come from Bombay and Valparaiso, from the latter place with jet black edges. South Sea pearl-shells are common, with white edges. The beautiful dark-green pearl-shells called _ear-shells_ or _sea-ears_ are more concave than the others, and have small holes round the margin: they are the coverings of the _Haliotis_, which occurs in the Californian, South African, and East Indian seas.

In the Indian collection of the Great Exhibition in London, specimens of the finest pearl-shells were shown, known in commerce as _flat-shells_, _ear-shells_, _green snail-shells_, _buffalo-shells_, _Bombay shells_. It is stated that the shores of the Sooloo Islands afford the finest shells.

The beautiful tints of mother-of-pearl depend upon its structure; the surface being covered with a multitude of minute grooves, which decompose the reflected light. Sir David Brewster, who was the first to explain these chromatic effects, discovered, on examining the surface of mother-of-pearl with a microscope, "a grooved structure, like the delicate texture of the skin at the top of an infant's finger, or like the section of the annual growths of wood as seen upon a dressed plank of fir. These may sometimes be seen by the naked eye; but they are often so minute that 3,000 of them are contained in an inch." It is remarkable that these iridescent hues can be communicated to other surfaces as a seal imparts its impress to wax. The colors may be best seen by taking an impression of the mother-of-pearl in black wax; but "a solution of gum-arabic or of isinglass (white glue), when allowed to indurate upon a surface of mother-of-pearl, takes a most perfect impression from it, and exhibits all the communicable colors in the finest manner, when seen either by reflection or transmission. By placing the isinglass between two finely-polished surfaces of good specimens of mother-of-pearl, we obtain a film of artificial mother-of-pearl, which, when seen by single lights, such as that of a candle, or by an aperture in the window, will shine with the brightest hues."

It is in consequence of this lamellar structure that pearl-shells admit of being split into laminæ for the handles of knives, for counters, and for inlaying. Splitting, however, is liable to spoil the shell, and is therefore avoided as much as possible. The different parts of the shell are selected as near as possible to suit the required purposes, and the excess of thickness is got rid of at the grindstone. In preparing the rough pearl-shell, the square and angular pieces are cut out with the ordinary brass-back saw, and the circular pieces, such as those for buttons, with the annular or crown-saw, fixed upon a lathe-mandrel. The pieces are next ground flat upon a wet grindstone, the edge of which is turned with a number of grooves, the ridges of which are less liable to be clogged than the entire surface, and hence grind more quickly. If the stone be wetted with soap and water, it is less liable to be clogged. The pieces are finished on the flat side of the stone, and are then ready for inlaying, engraving, polishing, &c. Cylindrical pieces are cut out of the thick part of the shell, near the hinge, and are rounded on the grindstone preparatory to being turned in the lathe. Counters, silk-winders, &c., are smoothed with Trent sand or pumice-stone and water on a buff-wheel or hand-polisher, and are finished with rotten-stone moistened with sulphuric acid, which develops finely the striated structure of the shell. For inlaid works, the surface is made flat by filing and scraping; then pumice-stone is used, and after this putty-powder, both on buff-sticks with water; and the final polish is given with rotten-stone and sulphuric acid, unless tortoise-shell, or some other substance liable to be injuriously affected by the acid, be present in the inlay. In turned works, fine emery-paper, rotten-stone and acid or oil are used. The pearl handles for razors are slightly riveted together in pairs, then _scraped_, _sand-buffed_ on the wheel with Trent sand and water; thirdly, _gloss-buffed_ on the wheel with rotten-stone and oil, or sometimes with dry chalk rubbed on the same wheel; and fourthly, they are _handed up_, or polished with dry rotten-stone and the naked hand.

ARTIFICIAL PEARLS.--The art of making artificial pearls has been brought to such perfection in Paris, that even jewellers and pawnbrokers have occasionally had a difficulty in deciding between the artificial and the real. The origin of this successful imitation is given as follows: A French bead-maker named Jaquin, observing that when the small fish called _ablette_, or bleak (_Cyprinus alburnus_), was washed, the water was filled with fine silver-colored particles, collected some of these for the purposes of his trade. He found that the soft shining powder thus obtained had, to a remarkable degree, the lustre of pearls; hence, he called it essence of pearl, or _essence d'orient_. He first made small beads of gypsum and covered them with this substance; they were greatly admired and eagerly sought after; but it was found that this pearly coat, when exposed to heat, separated itself from the bead, and attached itself to the skin of the wearer in a manner that was anything but pleasant. The ladies themselves, it is said, suggested to Jaquin the making of hollow glass beads, and covering the inside with essence of pearl. This he did, and established a manufacture, of which some idea may be gained by the following account. Slender tubes of glass are first prepared, called _girasols_, a term applied to opal, and sometimes to the stone called cat's-eye, and given to these tubes because the glass is of a peculiar bluish tint. From these the artist blows minute globules, to the extent of from two to six thousand per day, not caring to make them all perfectly regular or free from blemish, because the natural pearls are not so. The pearl essence is then mixed with a solution of isinglass, and is blown while hot into each bead by means of a fine glass pipe. The solution is spread equally over the whole internal surface, by shaking the pearls in a vessel placed over the table where the workman sits, and to which he gives motion by his foot. When the varnish is equally diffused and dry, the beads are filled with white wax; this gives them the necessary weight and solidity, and renders them less fragile. They are then bored with a needle, and threaded on strings for sale. The holes in the finer sort are lined with thin paper, that the thread may not adhere to the wax.

To produce one pound of scales no fewer than 4,000 fishes are required; but this quantity of scales only yields four ounces of pearl essence. The fish are about four inches long; they are sold at a cheap rate in the markets after being deprived of their scales. The value of a pound of washed scales in the Chalonnais is from fifteen to twenty-five livres. The early manufacturers suffered great inconvenience from not knowing how to preserve the scales from putrefaction, and consequently being obliged to use the essence immediately it was obtained, lest it should acquire the intolerable odor of decayed fish. Attempts were made to preserve them in spirit of wine or brandy, but those liquors wholly destroyed their lustre. At length it was discovered that these fishy particles can be kept for a long time in solution of ammonia, and this enables the manufacturers of artificial pearls to carry on a considerable traffic with distant places where the fish is plentiful, the supply from the Seine, though abundant, being insufficient for the purposes of the trade of Paris. Down to a late period, the heirs of M. Jaquin continued to manufacture pearls to a considerable extent, in the Rue de Petit Lion, at Paris. An elaborate account of this art is given by De Beost, in a work entitled, "_L'Art d'imiter les Perles fines_," from which most English descriptions of this manufacture have been obtained.

In a recent number of the "Journal of the Society of Arts," it was stated that an "oyster, or rather a mussel, of the species known to naturalists as the _mya margaritifera_, in which the artificial pearls are formed by the Chinese, had recently been sent to England. These pearls are only obtained near Ning-po, and until lately very little was known of the manner in which they were formed; and the account first published by Sir Joseph Banks was generally questioned. The _Hermes_ steamer, however, on a late visit to that place, was able to obtain several live ones, in which, on being opened, several pearls, as many as eighteen or twenty, were found in the course of formation. The one sent only contains simple pearls adhering to the shell. It appears they are formed by introducing some pieces of wood or baked earth into the animal while alive, which, irritating it, causes it to cover the extraneous substance with a pearly deposit. Little figures made of metal are frequently introduced, and, when covered with the deposit, are valued by the Chinese as charms. These figures generally represent Buddha in the sitting position, in which that image is most frequently portrayed. Several specimens have, it is said, been preserved alive in spirits, and others slightly opened, so as to show the pearls."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 10: Dr. Faraday found that, by first exhausting the lungs by several deep exhalations, so as to expel the carbonic acid, and then taking a deep inspiration of fresh air, he was able to hold his breath for two minutes and a half.]

ILLUMINATED, OR VELLUM-PAINTING.

AS it is the duty of a faithful journalist not only to "hit the follies of the day," but to study the tastes of the times, we have now ventured to make a few remarks on an art which has of late been revived, and which is now not only much practised as an accomplishment, but widely diffused as a means of general ornamentation. A slight sketch of its history will perhaps form a not unacceptable introduction to our subject.

It would appear that the metallic portions, and the general idea of illuminated painting, have been familiar to Oriental nations for ages; numberless traces of it, as applied to decorative purposes, having been discovered among those memorials now existing of the early Persian, Arabian, and Moorish races. The Egyptians, too, appear to have possessed the art of adding burnished gold or silver to their paintings; but whether they ever thus ornamented manuscripts is not known to us--in all probability they did not. Neither do the more ancient inhabitants of Italy appear to have applied it to manuscripts, for none of those discovered amid the ruins of the buried cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii are illuminated.

Many writers have surmised that manuscripts were not thus decorated until they began to assume something of the folio form; certainly, we are not aware of any traces of illuminating having been found in those rolled manuscripts which have descended to us. "The Dioscorides" in the Library of Vienna, and the celebrated copy of "Virgil" in the Vatican at Rome--both of which are supposed to date back so far as the fourth century--are believed to be the oldest examples of illuminated MSS. extant; and these can scarcely claim to be termed illuminated, for they only differ from ordinary manuscripts in having colored capitals. It is not until the seventh century that we find this art practised in any part of Great Britain; and then, in its earliest form, it simply consisted in staining the vellum purple or rose color, or inscribing the characters in gold. In the British Museum is a splendid MS., termed the "Golden Gospels," supposed to date from about the eighth century; its text is entirely of gold. There are some beautiful decorations in this valuable and curious relic of the patience, industry, and artistic powers of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors. There is another illuminated manuscript copy of the Gospels in the Archiepiscopal Library at Lambeth Palace, supposed to be nine hundred years old, and to have been painted by Moelbrigid Mac Durnan, Abbot of Derry, for Athelstan, who presented it to the city of Canterbury.

In those early ages, illuminating was applied only to religious and devotional MSS.; and it was chiefly done by members of the religious orders, for a very good reason--that they appear to have been almost the sole depositories of what learning and fine arts then existed. The celebrated St. Dunstan is said to have been a skilful illuminator, and is represented, in one of the pictures of an old manuscript, as busily at work decorating a missal.

The earlier specimens of illuminating which have descended to us are mostly crude and simple, consisting chiefly of colored capitals, stained ground, and metallic letters. For several ages the art does not appear to have made much progress, except that the capital letters increase in size, in ornament and beauty; and about the twelfth century we find them assuming a gigantic height, abounding in florid development, gorgeous in hues, and often exquisite in execution. In the early part of the fourteenth century an alteration is perceptible--the MS. pages assume an illuminated border, which at first only passes down one side, but gradually extends along the top and the bottom of the page; and, after a lapse of years, constitutes a complete frame to the text.

These borders at first consist simply of foliage or scrolls; but, as the art improves, and doubtless is more fostered and patronized, arabesques are introduced, in which forms of marvellous grace and beauty, linked in inextricable twinings, shine forth in all the gorgeous hues of a brilliant sunset; and these are, at a later period, gemmed with medallions or miniature paintings, illustrative of portfolios of the text. Indeed, several of the most celebrated painters of those days did not disdain to enrich MSS. for some high personage with specimens of their artistic skill. This continued until the middle of the sixteenth century.

Subsequently, a progressive decline in the excellence and artistic beauty of illuminated painting becomes very evident. It is true that, in the middle of the seventeenth century, it was florid, gorgeous, and, to a certain degree, admirable, but it was not the beauty of art; the rococo taste was beginning to dawn--that strange exuberance of fancy which heaped in one mass the most incongruous details, and was often more cumbrous and grotesque than graceful and harmonious. Nor was it probably only to this cause that the decline in the art may be attributed--the introduction of printing, and its gradual diffusion, had made manuscripts less valuable. The Reformation also, doubtless, had its share in depreciating illuminated painting, which soon ceased to be practised to any extent--excepting in Catholic countries--for the decoration of missals.

Then comes a period of some hundred or hundred and fifty years, during which the art may almost be said to be extinct; nor is it until within the last ten or twenty years that it has received much attention. Then, when lithographic printing, and various similar improvements, facilitated the reproduction of an indefinite number of copies of any given subject, and the still further invention of color-printing and chromo-lithography came into exercise, the value of a study of illuminated painting was perceived, and its applicability to all purposes of literary ornamentation developed. The title-pages of albums, of music, and of annuals; the covers of magazines and books; the initial letters of articles in periodicals; the decorations on circulars, cards, labels, and numberless other similar productions, whether printed, colored, gilded, or stamped--all will be found more or less derivable from the old style of illuminated manuscripts; indeed, a person who has not studied it can form little idea how largely its principles enter into all this kind of decorations.

It has been said that this branch of the art of painting is so mechanical as to be easily taught in a few lessons to those who have no previous knowledge of drawing. This we cannot fully admit. It is true such persons may acquire a smattering of the art--a crude, inartistic style of working it; but, unless they have a correct eye, good taste, and some judgment, they cannot achieve anything that will not betray the amateur.

It is by no means an easy matter to give practical written instructions for illuminated painting on vellum; for it is not merely directions as to what materials shall be used, and the mode of employing them, that are required, but principles for general guidance which have to be inculcated. The desired effects cannot be produced by a heterogeneous assemblage of forms and colors, but only by careful and artistic combinations of the appropriate and the harmonious.

In the matter of letters, allegorical letters, suitable to the subject they are to commence, may be obtained by arranging animals, fishes, reptiles, &c. &c., into the requisite forms.

Fig. 1 represents an L adapted for a paper on botany.

For those who may wish to paint from these cuts, we state that the leaves are of sap-green, shaded with Prussian green, and just touched at the tips with gold; the small ones are more delicately tinted than the others.

Fig. 2 is a T adapted for a paper on woods or forest trees. It is painted in Vandyke brown, and shaded with black, and the leaves and ground are green.

In an old MS. at the British Museum, the human form is most oddly contorted into grotesque semblances of capital letters. An initial for a paper on war may be composed of armor, weapons, &c.

Fig. 3, an S, is suitable for a heroic poem, or romantic tale of chivalry. For agriculture, we form our initial of corn, or the implements of husbandry, and such like; for music, of musical instruments and characteristic ornaments.

The S in the annexed cut is of silver, burnished and wrought (terms which we shall presently explain); the flag is painted in ultramarine, and striped and bordered with silver the spear-headed staff is shaded with Vandyke brown, and its decorations put in with silver.

Fig. 4 is not an allegorical letter, but simply decorative, and adapted for a title-page, rather than an initial. The darker and central parts of the letter are of vermilion, shaded with carmine; and the ornamentation of gold burnished and wrought. The letter in Fig. 5 belongs to the same class, and is only a modification of style; the white ground is merely shaded up with soft touches of carmine. The varieties of letters which can be formed are endless, and may be as quaint and as ideal as fancy can devise, provided they are also appropriate, and do not depart from the gracefully-curved line of beauty.

For illuminated painting we use water-colors; ultramarine, carmine, burnt carmine, burnt sienna, gamboge, deep chrome, vermilion, red-lead, emerald-green, sap-green, Vandyke-brown, lamp-black, and Chinese-white, are those most necessary. Persons who are not already provided with colors will do well to purchase those which are prepared expressly for illuminating, as they are more brilliant. Pure gold, green gold, and silver shells; fine sable hair-pencils, some gum-water, a lead-pencil, H. H. H; some tracing and some transferring paper; and an agate burnisher, which consists of a piece of polished agate, in the shape of a cut pencil, set in a handle; a flat ruler and a tracing pen, are the materials requisite; all of which should be obtained at one of the first-rate artists' color repositories.

Illuminated paintings may be made either on vellum or fine Bristol-board; the vellum is prepared expressly for the purpose, and not that commonly sold; it must be mounted on, or affixed to, a drawing-board (which has previously been covered with cartridge-paper) with artists' glue, before it can be painted on. Great care is requisite in sketching or transferring the outlines to its surface, for it is by no means easy to efface any marks once made; bread is usually more efficacious for this purpose than India-rubber; but, as it must be stale, it can only be used with caution, being likely to scratch or roughen the surface.

In all illuminated drawings the background is more or less ornamented; and this may be done according to the fancy of the artist himself; the leading characteristics of these fundamental ornamentations are delicacy, simplicity, and grace. In the different compartments of Fig. 6, four of the most common patterns are given. They are either put in with a darker shade of the grounding tint, or wrought in gold or silver, or painted in white or black. The straight lines must be firm and even, and equidistant; the curved lines flowing and graceful; the dots or spots all equal in size, and at even distances from the lines and from each other. The upper and lower compartments of this cut are pure gold and green gold, on a black and an ultramarine ground; the right-hand side is grounded with a light tint of emerald-green, and worked over with ornamentation in sap-green; the left-hand compartment is silver, on a delicate blue ground.

This damask pattern (see Fig. 7), which may be enlarged or diminished, is worked in carmine, on a ground of red-lead, or a light tint of vermilion. It is as well to observe that these groundwork patterns are almost always very minute and delicate; and, therefore, should never be traced with a pencil, or the line will show; but must be worked in with a fine sable-hair brush, and the requisite tint, or with a very fine pen, charged with diluted color; but the brush is preferable.

Such ornamentations as those in Figs. 8 and 9 may be worked in on the outer or metallic borders, which frequently surround the chief border. Our readers must not suppose that we profess to give all, or half the forms of decoration used for groundwork in illuminated drawings. We only attempt to sketch those most frequently met with, and which may serve as models of style. Various threefold ornaments—originating, doubtless, in the spirit of that class of men who at first chiefly used this decoration for MSS., and symbolical of the triune nature of the Deity—are frequently observed. In Fig. 10 are two of the most common specimens; the third is a spider-like ornament, also often introduced. Fig. 11 is another simple and common decoration.

THE LAST KISS.

BY JENNY A. M'EWAN.

THE last, the last! it lingers still, Though weary days have fled, Though summer's bloom Is in the tomb, And autumn's glory dead.

The last, the last! upon my brow Thy seal of truth is pressed, And in my heart Love's echoes start; Their music ne'er can rest.

The bright, blue heaven is clouded now, And moans the wintry blast; Fond memory sighs, But hope replies, "That kiss was not the last."

'Tis when I yield my wearied frame To slumber's magic powers, By thy dear side, Thine own loved bride, I rove through Dreamland's bowers.

Oh, dim are all my earthly joys To those that greet me there, And in my dream It ne'er doth seem That Heaven can be more fair.

Gray morning breaks o'er yonder hill; My visions bright are past, Yet ere they fly, The spirits sigh, "Thy dream-kiss was the last!"

When twilight's magic hour draws nigh, And Thought is roaming free, When evening's breeze Sighs through the trees, Thy spirit comes to me.

Oh, 'tis a holy presence then That's stealing o'er my breast; The magic power Of that sweet hour Lulls my sad heart to rest.

And on my brow I feel a touch, A breathing touch of bliss; The spirit-sigh Is hovering nigh, That touch, the spirit-kiss.

'Tis here, 'tis here! I feel it now— Yes, o'er my heart 'tis cast, And voices sweet Once more repeat "The spirit-kiss is last."

SECRET LOVE.

BY KATE HARRINGTON.

RAISE me gently—gently, sister, that my brow may catch the breeze Softly gliding through the casement from yon grove of orange-trees; That mine ear may drink the music gushing forth in mellow lays, Made by song-birds sweetly warbling their evening hymns of praise; That mine eye again may wander to the bosom of yon stream, Where the ripples dance as lightly as young fairies in a dream.

Now bend your ear, my sister, for my life is ebbing fast, And my heart must tell its secret before the dream is past; It is all the grief I've cherished that thou hast never known, For, save this, my thoughts have ever found an echo in thine own. It were better not to tell thee, but my spirit spurns control, And the words I would not utter seem escaping from my soul.

Dost thou remember, sister, how in sunny youth we played On the margin of yon streamlet in the orange branches' shade? Or, when the evening twilight threw its veil o'er stream and wood, And we saw the stars grow dizzy and tremble where they stood, How we twined the pure white blossoms in the ringlets of our hair, And wondered if the dew-drops would come to nestle _there_?

Hast thou forgotten, sister, life's bright, unclouded spring, When thy thoughts were just as joyous as wild birds on the wing, When young Clarence stood beside thee, and the words he dared to speak Made thy spirit leap for gladness and sent blushes to thy cheek? I had worshipped him in secret; he knew not my distress, And in secret I resigned him, but loved thee none the less.

In vain I tried to banish from my crushed and bleeding heart The image it had cherished long as of itself a part; My will was weak, for when I came to breathe a sad good-by, I could not, could not smother on my lips the bursting sigh. None knew the wild, deep anguish, the torturing pangs of grief, That closed the fount of feeling and refused a tear's relief.

Thou hast often wondered, sister, why mine eye has lost its light, Why I've spoken of existence as a gloomy, starless night; Thou hast sat for days together, and, in accents low, hast told How thy Clarence soon will hasten from the distant land of gold. Whene'er his name was mentioned, I have felt a strange, wild thrill; But I've learned long since, my sister, to suffer and be still.

Nay, weep not; for, believe me, ere awakes yon setting sun Earth's struggles will be over, and life's conflicts will be done; My disembodied spirit upon wings of love will rise To roam with shining seraphs through the realms of Paradise. My soul is only waiting till the silken cord is riven, To burst its earthly fetters and soar away to Heaven.

Draw nearer to me, sister, on my bosom bow thy head, And take my fervent blessing ere I'm numbered with the dead; And Clarence, he must never know the words I've breathed to thee, As a loving sister only let him learn to think of me. Tell him I longed to see him, but could not wait his time, For the angels came to waft me to a never-changing clime.

Thou wilt not forget me, sister, though long the parting seems, Yet, oh, believe me, often will I come to thee in dreams; And, if I gain permission of the true, unchanging Friend, I will be thy guardian angel till He calls thee to ascend. Then, as here on earth we've wandered, through fields of light we'll rove, With our spirits joined together by the silken cord of love.

THE SCHOTTISCH PARTNER.

BY MOTTE HALL.

OH, I danced with him the schottisch! 'Twas the first time that we met; He was such a dashing creature, With orbs as black as jet.

And he wore a lovely diamond; How it flashed into my eyes! As he drew me closely to him I saw its wondrous size.

Oh, at ball, and rout, and party, I was his schottisch belle; He said I danced so charmingly, And knew the step so well.

And we grew so very loving, As we stood upon the floor, That people said the schottisch step Would lead to Hymen's door.

But, though I schottisched every night, I reached not Hymen's dwelling; The god must live a long way off, But where, there is no telling.

And, only think, one festal night, The ungrateful, wicked Harry! I heard my schottisch partner say— "She'll do—but not to marry.

"She'll do to twirl in mazy dance, She'll do for giddy pleasure; She'll do to meet out Folly's gauds With Fashion's line and measure;

"But she'll _not_ do for sacred home, A meek and gentle woman, An angel in her purity, But in her love a human."

TWO MOTHERS?

BY MRS. S. F. JENNINGS.

A LITTLE dirty ragged boy, in the streets of New York, selling penny songs, is asked by a gentleman if he has a mother. "Neow don't—where's yourn? Does she know you're out?" he says, with that impudent _nonchalance_ which is the more pitiful because so common among that class. But the gentleman buys some of his songs, and that act is the sesame to his heart. Upon a second putting of the question, he is ready, though with the same reckless air, to answer, "No; folks don't have two mothers, do they? and mine's dead's long ago's I can remember."

Two mothers? Never, little one; No merit brings such meed; God gave thee _one_—if she be gone God help thee feel thy need! For a dangerous way, stormy and wild, Thou goest, without thy mother, child.

The throbbing heart of this mighty town, How beats its pulse for thee? The tide of life swells up and down The paths of this restless sea. Will they dash thy bark on the surf away, Like a straw or leaf on the ocean spray?

Poor boy! for thee how ruthless time All tender ties hath riven! Thy father's love—all seared with crime; Thy mother—gone to Heaven. No brother, sister, guards the shrine, When God hath set his seal divine.

Thy mother _dead_? long, long ago? No soft eye beams on thee? No kindly voice says firmly "No," To bid thy tempter flee? And snares are thick, and pitfalls deep, And the upward way is rough and steep.

And thou heedest not, in thy soul's deep night, That God hath so bereft thee; And thou carest not for the trembling light Dim in thy memory left thee. God save thee from the world's sure blight! God save thee from an _endless_ night!

A LOVING HEART.

BY W. S. GAFFNEY.

SWEETER than the sweetest flower, Brighter than the brightest gem, Richer far than Flora's bower, Art or nature's diadem— Fairer, sweeter, Purer, meeter, Is a kind and loving heart!

Wealth may prove a toy caressing; Beauty's charms a world of light; But Affection is a blessing From a soul serene and bright; Kindest, purest, Best and surest, Is a faithful, loving heart!

EVENING THOUGHTS.

BY H. MERRAN PARKE.

TWILIGHT deepens upon the lea, And shadows come dancing in play with me; Little brown birds have hurried away To their nests in the tree-tops old and gray, While here at my window I lean and gaze Earnestly into the misty haze, Watching the coming of one sweet star Which thou'rt now seeking from me afar. Absent and dearest, my spirit's life Dost ever forget, 'mid the din and strife, That one fond heart o'er the line of hills Sighs for thy presence, yet bounds and fills With measureless bliss when this sweet hour Gathers around with its magic power.

Visions of brightness come and go Like the falling and melting of winter snow; But one, a presence like thine remains, And winds my heart in its golden chains. Then, sweet as the music in Assam's bowers, When winds go singing among the flowers, Or like the leaves of the lotus-tree That touch each other in melody, So sweetly a voice creeps into my soul To woo my senses from earth's control, And point to a world of rarer joy Where pleasures are found that never cloy, Where bliss supernal forever reigns, And rapture gushes in seraph strains.

Oh, earth is darkly beautiful now, With her garland of flowers upon her brow; And the stars have come with their golden eyes To light up the portals of Paradise; The visions of sweetness have left my heart, But the voice of music will never depart; And when I look to the shining skies, Where the bright pavilions of glory rise, I'll think of the gardens of matchless flowers, Where angels walk 'mid the wingless hours; And, dearest, I'll think we'll sometimes go The peace and rapture of heaven to know. But, hark! the sound of ringing bells Comes on the wind, and softly tells Midnight—and earth doth sweetly rest, With her beautiful children on her breast.

SONNET.—FLOWERS.

BY WM. ALEXANDER.

WINTER scarce o'er, as messenger of Spring, Walks forth bright Snowdrop, clad in green and white, Which simple beauties every eye delight, Till Violet scents the gale and Bluebirds sing; Come now the Windflower and the Tulip tall, And Naiad Lily of the lowly vale, The lover's flower, which is true passion pale; Up, next, Narcissus springs, more fair than all, Reflecting in the brook, that purls anigh, Her image, and, like Echo, hastes to die; Then the sweet lady Rose, at Zephyr's call, Like nymph, comes forth to show her glowing breast, While Flora holds her proudest carnival, And yields the palm to her, as queen of all the rest.

MY TULIPS.

BY H. S. D.

STERN old Janus shook his sceptre Over a shivering land, Yet spring, one day, with a warning came And slipped it from his hand. She brought him torrents from the skies, And rivers down the street; Melted his crown about his eyes, And thawed his icy feet.

My tulip bulbs in goodly rows, Scenting the loosened springs, Shot up in haste to look around; But ah, the silly things! They did not know that when spring comes In such a vapory way, She only thinks to try her power, And never means to stay.

So when the reckless sprouts had seen Their fill of mist and mud, Spring went away and left them e'en To manage as they could. Then winter rose in fearful rage, And fumed and flurried round; He shut the waters in a cage, And closed the opening ground.

Like true philosophers, my plants, Though sorely pinched and frayed, Braved the old tyrant in his rants, And stood there undismayed, Till spring, with airs and sunny smile, Came tripping o'er the ground, Leading her orchestra, the while, In many a tricksy sound.

And buds above, below, burst forth, In tints of emerald dressed, To see the wild spring gain the north, My tulips with the rest. When she'd subdued the rigid earth, And conquered all the cold, My plants, to grace her victory, donned Their crimson and their gold.

Out flashed their flames, their feathers tossed Upon the ambient air, And nicest choice was dazed between By bloemen and Bizarre. But when the gentle sway of spring Must yield to summer's pride, My tulips fainted with regret, And dropped their heads and died.

THE DEAD TREE.

I SAW it with leafy honors crowned By a crystal streamlet's side, And its long, fair boughs in their graceful play Stooped down to the gentle tide.

I lingered once beneath its shade At the noon of a summer day; When youth's high pulse through my temples beat In its swift and burning way.

And many a thought of my questioning heart Went out on restless wing, To the unseen's far and shoreless waves, Some tidings thence to bring.

Blest, blest and beautiful seemed all things, Green earth and the holy sky, And _soul_ with its wondrous, fearful gifts, And doom of mystery.

Years passed; from distant and stranger homes I came with a colder brow; But at nature's altars wreathed and pure, My spirit still could bow.

The crystal stream on its winding way My footsteps traced once more, And a dim sweet thought of other days Led softly on before,

To where a circling emerald wall Caught the laughing waves to rest, For a moment charmed and placidly In its violet-scented breast.

And there, far down in the stillness glossed, All riven, bleak, and gray, Was a giant form that frowned above, Though kissed by the summer ray.

Then a mist came over the sunbeam's light, The breeze swept chillingly, And something mourned within my heart, But not for the blighted tree.

For a vision came with a lordly bow, And stood beside me there, With pride-wreathed lips and a clear dark eye— Away—'twas a thing of air.

Yet a being like it on earth once dwelt, With men thus high and cold; But the valley's clods press heavily And mute o'er the spoils they hold.

A deep pall covered the wasted corse, A deeper the passing soul; A name that stands like yon gray, sad tree, Was the proud man's earthly goal.

LET ME DIE!

BY S. M. MONTGOMERY.

OH! who would live on in this dreary world, When the light of Hope has fled, And the friends of old are changed and false, And faith and trust are dead; When the heart is crushed 'neath its weight of grief, And the smile of joy is gone, When "love's young dream" is past—all past, Say, who would linger on?

Let me die! ay, lay me down to rest In the dreamless sleep of death, Where flowers send forth, at dewy eve, Their pure and perfumed breath; Where the bright sunshine will gently fall, And soft winds murmuring by, Will my requiem chant, in whispers low, Through the green grass waving high.

LINES TO A BRONCHITIS BIRDIE.

A FRAGMENT.

BY N. W. BRIDGE.

NOW heed the counsel of a sage, And closely keep in thy warm cage This cold and dreary winter through; See that ye shun the winds of March, No April showers thy plumes unstarch, Nor skies of May thy crest bedew. And then, perchance, sweet airs of June Will find our Birdie's throat in tune, And ye through valleys green may rove, And o'er the sunlit emerald hills, Within the cool refreshing grove, Along the marge of winding rills; And gather flowers of varied hue, 'Mid grassy beds and moss-grown banks, And on them smile, and kiss them, too, While they will sweetly blush their thanks, And drink thy health in drops of dew; Inhale the blossom-scented breeze Within thy oscillating zone, And never cough, nor even sneeze, So sound thy swan-like throat has grown. Then will thy happy voice be heard Amid sweet spring's melodious throng; No other heavenly warbling bird Will sing so joyous, oft, and long.

L'ISOLEMENT.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE,

BY WM. A. KENYON.

OFTEN, at sunset, on the mountain side, Beneath an aged oak I take my seat, My vision roaming o'er the plain spread wide, Whose panorama opens at my feet.

Here scolds the river, thus in foam to break, Then slow meanders down the dim afar, Toward the spread waters of the sleeping lake, Where smiles in azure the fair evening star.

To these crowned summits—dim old colonnades— The gentle twilight still a last ray lends, E'en while the cloud-car of the queen of shades White o'er yon far horizon's verge ascends.

Spreading through all the air, with gothic swell, Soft sounds of worship bid the ear attend; The trav'ler stops to hear the distant bell With day's last noises holy concerts blend.

But these fair tableaux have no charm for me; My sight indifferent is o'er them led, Like the fleet shadows that at noon I see: Suns for the living cannot warm the dead.

From hill to hill in vain I turn my glance, From south to north, from sunrise to his rest, I search at every point this vast expanse; Nowhere doth fortune wait on my behest.

What make these valleys and these homes? I cry; Vain objects all; their charm for me has flown: Rocks, rivers, forests, loved retreats, I sigh, One being absent, every soul is gone.

What signifies the sun to rise or set? And what a heaven sombre or serene? Returning days no joy for me beget, And still unmoved I gaze on every scene.

Round could I follow the sun's vast career, My eyes would see but deserts wild and void; Nothing he shines on can my bosom cheer: I wish for nothing here below enjoyed.

Perchance beyond the borders of this earth, Where the true sun looks down from other skies, Could I but cast the slough of this world's birth, What I so much have dreamed would meet my eyes.

There, filled from fountains whither thought aspires, There might I find again, with hope and love, This fair ideal every soul desires— Find her who has no name save there above.

Borne on Aurora's car, why can I not, Vague object of my vows, launch forth to thee? Why on this earth of exile is my lot, With nothing common between it and me?

Leaves in the prairie fall, with passage brief, And evening breezes to some dale convey; And I—am I not like a withered leaf? Ye stormy north winds, bear me hence away!

TO A FRIEND ON THE DAY OF HIS MARRIAGE.

A STORE of happiness to thee This day auspicious brings, And o'er the future fairy Hope Her robe of promise flings.

Oh, fair is she whom thou hast won To be thy gentle bride, A fairer none could ever wish "To grace a lover's side."

But well for thee thy chosen one Hath charms that brighter shine, And these by strong, though tiny cords, Shall make her doubly thine.

Beneath the potent hand of Time That graceful form must bow, And age his furrowed lines shall trace Upon that lovely brow.

And years of care shall dim those eyes Sparkling with love's own light, And 'mid those dark and glossy braids Shall mingle threads of white.

But outward change shall only prove That heart more true to thee, And, though the eyes their lustre lose, _It_ will unaltered be.

And oh, when sorrow's storm shall come, For come it surely will, 'Twill only bind that loving heart To thee more closely still.

And now, though many friends are near, Wishing thee perfect bliss, Not _one_, I know, is more _sincere_ _Than she_ who sends you _this_.—V.

CAPS AND HEADDRESS.

AS it is impossible to describe the various shades of trimming that are seen in the new styles of caps and headdresses, we resort to cuts to illustrate them.

Fig. 1 is a breakfast-cap for a young married lady, of a very simple style; the foundation is of a plain net; this is traversed by plaitings of lace, through which is passed a flat plaid ribbon of bright hues. Loops and bows in profusion at each ear. It will be found a very stylish model.

Fig. 2.—A more complicated and less youthful cap, composed of insertions and edgings, trimmed with mantua ribbon of a good quality.

Fig. 3.—A graceful style of headdress for a young person, when simplicity is to be preserved. It is merely of full _bandeaux_, slightly waved; the flowers, a light drooping spray, are arranged in the _bandeaux_, instead of the back of the hair, or across the brow. The back of the hair, as seen in Fig. 4, is dressed in three puffs, and secured by a low ornamental comb. We have still newer designs of headdresses in preparation to illustrate the topic of the coming month—dress at watering-places.

JUVENILE FASHIONS

WE are very much pleased—nor is it to be wondered at—with the communications that frequently reach us with regard to this especial department.

"Indeed," writes a correspondent, whose opinion is of value, "the good ideas you have given me concerning children's dresses and many other things, during the three months I have received the 'Lady's Book,' I consider worth the whole year's subscription."

Once, at least, every season we devote our chitchat especially to the young people; and to show they are not forgotten in the mean time, select a design from Mrs. Suplee's large establishment—of children's clothing, etc.—of a boy's summer suit.

The plaited linen shirt, or chemisette, Fig. 1, is sometimes worn by itself, buttoning to the waistband of the trousers, Fig. 2, which are full, and rather long. The over-jacket may be made of Cashmere or any suitable material, and is intended for the street. The peculiar style of the sleeves and the square opening of the front display the fine linen bosom and sleeves.

FASHIONABLE BONNETS AND CAPS.

_From the celebrated Establishment of Thomas White & Co., No. 41 South Second St., Philada._

No. 1. BOY'S HAT.—Material of Coburg straw.

No. 2. BONNET TIP.

No. 3. BONNET CROWN.

No. 4. WIRE BONNET FRAME.

* * * * *

_Description of Cuts on page 481._

No. 1. INFANT'S TURBAN.

_Material._—Embroidered French blonde and gimp.

_Trimming._—Bunches of white ribbons at the sides, with quilling of blonde around the face.

No. 2. BOY'S JOCKEY CAPS.

A. _Material._—Straw brilliant, edged and trimmed around the front with Paris gimp.

B. _Material._—Brilliant straw, inserted with Paris gimp. Front edged with gimp.

No. 3. SUMMER BONNET.

_Material._—Blonde lace, with quilling of ribbon. Crown of silk, with lace fall to hang over the cape.

_Trimming._—Bouquets of wild flowers.

No. 4. ITALIAN LEGHORN.—Untrimmed.

CHINESE SAYINGS.

SOME of the ordinary expressions of the Chinese are sarcastic enough. A blustering harmless fellow they call "a paper tiger." When a man values himself overmuch, they compare him to a "rat falling into a scale, and weighing itself." Overdoing a thing they call "a hunchback making a bow." A spendthrift they compare to a rocket which goes off at once. Those who expend their charity on remote objects, but neglect their family, are said "to hang their lantern on a pole, which is seen afar, but gives no light below."

BRAID FOR CHILD'S DRESS.

WHY DON'T LADIES LEARN TO COOK?

AMONG the common things to the teaching of which public attention is now so strongly directed, it is to be hoped that the art of cookery—one of the commonest, and yet, apparently, one of the most difficult and neglected of all—will not be forgotten. The instruction of the female peasantry in this useful art would be as advantageous to themselves when settled on their own hearths as to the families of the middle classes, in which, before marriage, they officiate as domestic servants. On all sides we hear complaints of the difficulty of finding, and of retaining when found, a cook who can roast a leg of mutton, and make batter-pudding or pea-soup. In point of fact, we have heard of ladies who have it in serious contemplation to dispense with servants altogether, as the least troublesome alternative. Without wishing matters carried quite so far, we are convinced that many of our fair friends would lose nothing, either in point of respectability or happiness, while they could add at least one-third to the effective incomes of their husbands, if they were to spend a little more time in their kitchens, superintending the preparation of the family dinner, instead of contenting themselves with ordering it—if, indeed, they condescend to do even that. Some forty years back, ladies were driven to shoemaking as a fashionable way of killing time. Why not try a little cooking? Thanks to the modern stoves, with their nicely-arranged skillets and stewpans, which science and mechanical skill have substituted for the blazing kitchen hearth of other days, young ladies of the nineteenth century, just passing its prime, may cook without soiling their fingers or injuring their complexions. Were it not so, we would not recommend them to cook. We would rather live on bread and cheese all the days of our lives.

It will be said, perhaps, that our notions with regard to female education and employment are too antiquated—that in these matters, as in everything else, a new era has dawned, and the solid course of instruction now given in colleges for ladies will be triumphantly appealed to. Ladies, however, who possess these solid acquirements—who, like Lady Jane Grey, prefer Plato to a picnic—will be least likely to neglect the economy of the kitchen. They will thoroughly understand the dignity of the employment, and call to mind all the poetry of cooking. To say nothing of the dinner which Milton describes Eve as preparing when "on hospitable thoughts intent," there are the Homeric banquets at which kings literally "killed their own meat," and at which queens and princesses turned the spit for the roasting, or drew the water and chopped wood for the boiling. Cooking is classical, and no lady will disdain to take part in it who has read of these feasts in the original Greek. Let it be observed that it is the middle and working classes on whom we wish to urge the importance of the study. A gentleman's daughter can afford to be so ignorant of common things as not to be able to recognize chickens in a poultry-yard, because they do not run about with a liver under one wing and a gizzard under the other, though our modern poultry shows, it must be confessed, will tend much to dissipate this error. A knowledge, however, of the art of cooking is of more importance to the wives of the laboring population than to those of the middle classes, because it is the art, when properly cultivated, of making a little go a great way.—_Mark-lane Express._

A LACE BASQUE.

_Furnished from Madame Demorest's Emporium of Fashions, 375 Broadway, New York._

THIS novel and graceful design is adapted for black lace or any other thin material that fancy may dictate, as will be seen by reference to the engraving. It is gathered in a graceful fulness to a band of insertion across the back, and also to a similar band fitting closely to the form at the waist, and falls in a rich double flounce over the person. The corsage is made high in the neck, gathered into a band same as the back. The style of sleeve (which is so clearly illustrated by the artist as not to need any further description) harmonizes most beautifully with the general design.

TRUTH.

BY D. HARDY, JR.

AS stands the old oak when the tempest is raging, While others less firm are upturned by the blast, So Truth, though with Error a warfare is waging, Is firm and unyielding, triumphant at last. She stands as unmoved as the bold promontory, Tow'ring so proud by the waves of the sea; Her heart-gushing song and her soul-cheering story Should bless and make glad every land that may be

Truth, mighty and noble, down came from the Maker, The Sovereign Ruler of earth and of sky; Then cling to her fondly and never forsake her, Till death shall have closed thy now beaming eye; Truth is so mighty, Superstition and Error, All powerless and weak, must fall by her side; Then, friends of the Right, do not falter in terror, But nobly press onward with Truth for your guide.

LADY'S RIDING BOOTS.

WE are at pains to present our friends with every _recherché_ article that can contribute to their welfare; for this purpose, we illustrate a pair of riding boots for ladies, which, in addition to their ostensible purpose, are admirable for damp or muddy walking, especially in locations where vegetation renders protection desirable. These boots will effectually prevent the moisture that is brushed off from proving detrimental. They are made of patent leather, of a rich, lustrous black hue, the upper portion of fancy colored morocco, purple, maroon, green, or bronze, and bordered with silk galloon, finished with neat tassels. Excepting in their elegant proportions and ornamental appearance, they are essentially similar to the dress boots of the sterner sex; and we are gratified to observe this move in the right direction. This fashion is in accordance with sound sense and comfort.

For the original of these beautiful and commendable articles, we are indebted to Mr. E. A. Brooks, Boot and Shoe Emporium, 575 Broadway, New York, from whose large and varied collection we propose affording frequent illustrations, that our fair readers may be fully _au fait_ in this important department of their costume.

COTTAGE FURNITURE.

Fig. 1 represents two tables formed to fasten together underneath.

Fig. 2 is a Pembroke table with the leaves raised.

LADY'S SLIPPER ON CLOTH.—SMYRNA EMBROIDERY.

_Materials._—Any dark-colored cloth, black or dark claret is the best. Silk or terry velvet of a color contrasting well with that of the cloth. Purse twist, first size, either gold color or the color of the velvet, but one shade or two lighter.

Draw your pattern on the cloth first; then on the wrong side of the velvet; cut out the velvet carefully, and gum well the wrong side of the velvet. When cut out, apply on the cloth, press it down gently, and let it dry; when perfectly dry, work the outlines in chain stitch with the purse twist.

If you can manage the tambour needle, the chain stitch would be better done in tambour work, also quicker and more easily.

This design, embroidered with black silk on scarlet or blue merino, will also make an extremely pretty baby's shoe.

BREAD-CLOTH.

_Materials._—Five reels crochet cotton, No. 24, with crochet-hook, No. 18.

MAKE a chain of 160 stitches, and work on it one row in dc.

_2d row._—Begin with 1 chain, and work 2 dc in each of the first two dc of last row. One dc in each of the others, except the last two, in both of which work 2, and end with a chain stitch.

The remainder is to be worked from the design, in ordinary square crochet; but, as there is first an increase of a square at each end, and afterwards a decrease to the same extent in every row, the space in the centre only being without either increase or diminution, we shall describe the way in which the decrease is so effected as to leave a regular edge; the increase being always done as we have described in the 2d row. There are two close squares at each end.

FOR THE DECREASE.—Slip on the first stitch, sc on the next, sdc on the next, dc on the fourth, do three more dc, 2 ch, which form the first open square in the line. At the other extremity reverse the process, working on the last four stitches, 1 dc, 1 sdc, 1 sc, 1 slip.

In all the succeeding rows that are decreased, make the slip stitch on the first dc stitch of the previous row, at each end, thus shortening every row by three stitches.

The edge being of two close squares, allows for all the ends being worked in, which should invariably be done.

Work one row of open square crochet all round, with the dc stitches sufficiently close at the corners to set flat, and in every square knot a fringe of twelve or sixteen strands, and 2 inches deep.

EMBROIDERY.—DRESS COLLAR.

(_See Colored Plate in front of Book._)

_Materials._—Embroidery cotton, No. 100.

Trace the pattern upon the muslin with a quill pen and blue mixed with gum-water; make the leaves, stems, and flowers in raised satin-stitch; the circles in buttonhole-stitch, either making them close or open, as may be preferred; if close, a raised spot must be worked in the centre of each. Work the edge in buttonhole-stitch.

PATTERNS FOR EMBROIDERY.

EDITORS' TABLE.

"Man to man so oft unjust, Is always so to woman."--BYRON.

SUCH is the testimony of a poet, and history, we are sorry to say, would prove his assertion true. Yet a "better time" is coming, has already begun, and, in our country, seems making progress quite as rapidly as women are prepared to receive and adjust themselves to the new and enlarged duties which are opening before them. Education is the grand lever to elevate society. When both sexes are allowed equal privileges of instruction, the advancement of the race will be accelerated in more than twofold proportion, because the ignorance of one-half the species serves to hinder greatly the influences of intelligence in the enlightened portion. A small cloud can dim the sun.

Some important questions respecting female education are yet unsettled; one of these concerns the prerogative of their colleges. Are these institutions, when chartered by legislative authority, to hold equal rank with male colleges? When _degrees_ are conferred on the female student, shall she have an equal right to the honors these are supposed to confer, as are claimed for her brother graduate? Not long since, a lady was complimented by the Faculty of one of the most eminent Female Colleges in our country with "the Honorary degree of Mistress of Arts." While acknowledging the compliment, the lady wrote--

"Allow me to inquire if, in thus conferring degrees on women, you contemplate the assumption of the style similar honors confer on men? Would you be pleased to see that I added the M. A. to my name? Now, this is an important question, and will, as I think, have much influence on the future aspect of female education. If colleges for women are invested with full power of conferring degrees, and do confer them, why should not the same rules be applied to these as are considered proper in regard to colleges for your sex?

"If to append the _sign_ of his degree to his name be for a man an advantage, showing his acquirements have been acknowledged and guaranteed by the competent authority, why is not a similar course beneficial, under like circumstances, for a woman?" &c.

The faculty of the college made reply by the president to the effect that they did confer the _degree_ in good faith, considering it "one and the same held by the faculty," and that the lady had an equal right with themselves to assume the A. M. We were intending to invite attention to this subject, gathering thus the results of discussion, when the following article reached us, and we give it here to invite others to write on this question:--

"TO THE EDITOR OF THE 'LADY'S BOOK:' Knowing that you have very much at heart the advancement of learning and the spread of useful knowledge, and that you do not think woman's share an unproductive one, or her powers below culture, I venture to ask why most of the stimulants to generous ambition are neglected in her case? Is it because men consider her nature too elevated to require the adventitious helps they throw out to each other? It cannot be that they fear on equal ground some odious comparisons might be obvious.

"Milton says--

'Fame is the spur that the clear spirit does raise To scorn delights and live laborious days.'

So sensible have mankind ever been of this, that, in all ages, incentives have been offered to the ingenious and distinguished, by titles, honors, and decorations distributed to excellence. To excellence in _men_; for _women_, however industrious their researches, however 'laborious' their 'days,' have little to expect but a limited fame, and the inward consciousness of high motives. Why should this be? Why might not woman have the satisfaction of feeling that her deservings may entitle her to the marks of approbation of the learned in her own sphere, and that her name may acquire a general respectability from honors worthily borne? In other words, why may not honorary degrees be granted by literary and scientific institutions to _all_ persons who merit them? And why may not women publicly bear such testimonials, by appending to their names the same titles borne by men under similar circumstances? I know that there is a large, worthy, and respectable class of men who, as some shrink in undefinable horror from the sight of a cat, feel nervous shudderings and morbid vexation at the word _strength of mind_ as applied to woman. To the _word_; for I have, in _essentials_, found many of these nervous gentlemen happy to avail themselves of the objectionable quality when it was taken by them in a disguised way. These might, at the first blush of the thing, begin to wince at a lady being styled A. M., F. R. S., _cum ceteris_. But, if they will, if they _can_ consider the subject coolly, they will see that there is nothing unfeminine, nothing the finest womanly delicacy need fear in the matter. Would the names of Maria Edgeworth or Hannah More have been published with less propriety, had they been supported by initials signifying that certain judges of literature approved their efforts and sanctioned their pretensions? For my part, I think it seems altogether more befitting a woman's weakness to be ushered into public by the stamp of masculine authority. I think even a _weak-minded_ woman could not disparage her charms by seeking in a signature the protection of her superiors.

"Far be it from me, speaking in modern cant, to draw woman out of her sphere. I would have every one do her 'duty in that sphere of life in which it has pleased God to call her.' Let man rule in the court, the camp; let him make laws and enforce them; let him plough the main; let him defend his country; while woman soothes the bed of sickness and instructs her children. Let her studies and her efforts be to alleviate pain, to increase mental development, and, above all, by precept and example, to watch over morals and religion. These things she may do; these things she daily does; but, though more patient, and more spiritual than her brother _man_, she is not an angel. She needs encouragement, praise, and rewards to cheer her course. Why, then, deny her the harmless gratifications that are her due, that she has won and should wear?"

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WHAT SHALL BE DONE FOR THE INSANE?--The Report for 1853 of the Trustees of the Hospital for the Insane, in the State of Maine, contains a remark equal to a conclusive reason in favor of hereafter building every new insane hospital for one sex only--a recommendation lately submitted to the public by Medical Superintendents.

The Maine Trustees say, "It is very important the public should have every possible assurance that patients of one sex should not know, except by report, that there are those of the other sex in the hospital." This testimony, so official and experienced, is full of meaning, and it will be used by many voices in a wise way to effect a reform.

Pecuniary economy alone has led, in most places, to the present method of combining insane men and women in the same building. One building of a determined size, it has been argued, can be more cheaply supported than two, having together a capacity to accommodate the same number of patients as the larger one. But, whenever in any population a new hospital must be erected for increasing numbers, it will not be attended with an extra expense in supporting it, to appropriate it to one sex, and to remove into it the patients of this sex from the prior institution.

New ones ordered by a Legislature with an intention to devote each to one sex, can, from their foundations, be so arranged as to secure the attaining of many special advantages relating to social parlors, amusement saloons, reading-rooms, work-rooms, private rooms for interviews between patients and their near relations, bath-rooms, &c.

The proper locations of the noisy, of the homicidal, and of the dreadfully impulsive in various ways, so as to prevent them from injuriously disturbing others, is a serious problem of difficult solution in most hospitals now in operation. At present, all of the same sex are in the same wing; and therefore the timid are sometimes much distressed or excited by the furious we have alluded to. The difficulty of solving the problem will be almost removed in a hospital for one sex, by placing the furious at the far end of one wing, and those who would be hurtfully disturbed by them in the other wing; thereby separating them through the intervention of the centre building.

The proposed reform will enlarge the liberty and the privileges of patients, both within the buildings, and outside of them in walks, courts, or gardens. Females will be exempt from a risk, to which they are now subject in the best-conducted institutions, of being observed by male patients and their attendants through windows overlooking the grounds. Now, excited patients must often be secluded in rooms, or limited to small courts for air and exercise, to keep them from being seen by the other sex; whereas these very patients may more than others need daily walks with their attendants as the surest means of soothing their fury.

Whenever the whole of one wing of a hospital is constructed and organized for convalescent and timid patients, they can and will be allowed, with scarcely any inconvenience to the internal government, more frequent and longer visits from sane and sensible conversers, than are now allowable. They will then have the benefit of what is much needed, a greater variety of sane companionship and its healthful influences, than the household, together with the ordinary restricted visiting, can ever possibly supply. When these influences are of a wise quality, they are mental medicines of heavenly value to the many who need them and ought to have them.

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MORAL COURAGE.--In an address, entitled Human Happiness--see book notices--we find the following very straightforward definition and advice:--

"What do I mean by moral courage? I mean the energy and spirit to say and do what is right and true, _in a respectful and proper manner_, though it be unpalatable to some, or apparently against our own interest. I do not intend you to suppose that I am advising you needlessly to tell all you know concerning either yourselves or others, but that you should avoid, as much as in you lies, doing or saying anything which you would be ashamed to acknowledge, _if necessary to do so_; and then when you have committed errors and faults towards others, should not hesitate to own and correct them. Young ladies, this would be moral courage. Do not, I beseech you, forget what it is, and do not hesitate to practise it, for it is a beautiful quality; it will always promote your comfort, respectability, and happiness, and very often your immediate and best interests."

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FLOWERS AND THEIR INFLUENCE.--The people of France pay much attention to flowers, and thus one of their best writers on Education, M. Aimé Martin, describes the effect of this taste:--

"In all countries women love flowers, in all countries they form nosegays of them; but it is only in the bosom of plenty that they conceive the idea of embellishing their dwellings with them. The cultivation of flowers among the peasantry indicates a revolution in all their feelings. It is a delicate pleasure, which makes its way through coarse organs; it is a creature, whose eyes are opened; it is the sense of the beautiful, a faculty of the soul which is awakened. Man, then, understands that there is in the gifts of nature a something more than is necessary for existence; color, forms, odors, are perceived for the first time, and these charming objects have at last spectators. Those who have travelled in the country can testify, that a rose-tree under the window, a honeysuckle around the door of a cottage, are always a good omen to the tired traveller. The hand which cultivates flowers is not closed against the supplications of the poor, or the wants of the stranger."

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CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN.--These are becoming the rule in our cities. We have before us the "First Annual Report" of one formed in Boston a year or two ago. Why might not similar associations be formed among the young women? Many a girl from the country has been lost, who might have lived virtuously, happily, and usefully, had she, when coming to the city, known friends of her own sex to whom she might have gone for counsel in her loneliness and sorrows. But these efforts to save young men will gladden the hearts of mothers and sisters, whose brothers and sons are gone from the domestic roof out into the dangers and temptations of the world. We subjoin the opening remarks, or reasons for the association:--

"The wise and good men of Boston have, in times past, mourned over many a youth of promise who, fresh from his rural home, has yielded to the temptations of the city life, whose dangers he knew not of, and perished. Individual benevolence has done much to avert the evil; but no adequate remedy was found till _Christian young men_ were banded together to receive their young brethren from the country and guard them with Christlike sympathy until they could securely walk amid the dangers of the city. Such a band is our association."

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WOMAN'S RIGHTS--as we have always maintained--entitle her to equal advantages of education with her brother man. Slowly, but surely, this idea is gaining favor in the public mind, and men, noble-hearted and wise, are carrying forward the work of founding institutions for the daughters of our land. As yet, few of these schools are endowed, none made equal in efficiency to the schools for the other sex; but still we rejoice to record every attempt to extend the benefits of instruction to those who are the heaven-appointed educators of infancy and childhood. Women must be fitted to educate men; we shall then have goodness and wisdom united. In the "Female College to be established at Petersburg, Virginia," we hope these advantages will be provided for liberally. Every college should be endowed.

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BLEAK WORLD.--These two stanzas are worth preserving from a poem which we have not room for; the author may _hope_:--

There's not so bleak a place on earth Where blossom not the wildwood flowers; There's not so desolate a hearth But hath its smiling, sunny hours.

Though dark and drear life's voyage may seem, And man without a sun may grope, Yet in its darkest hours we dream There's smiling in the distance hope.

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SLANDER.--We seldom meet with a fearless, out-spoken rebuke of the sins of the tongue. Those who deal with evil-speaking seem usually afraid of committing themselves to the charge of an offence similar to that which they are rebuking. Not so Rev. Henry Steel Clarke, whose "Discourse," of which the following is a sample, goes straight to its mark as an arrow from the bow of a strong hand. Our readers will find pleasure as well as profit in these sentiments; they are accustomed to the language of truth in our pages, and will not feel the arrow pointed at any who are innocent. And the guilty, if such there be around our "Table," will read to profit by the pictures presented, and thank the good clergyman who, from the seclusion of his study, has breathed words that will reach and interest the inmates of thousands of homes in every section of our country:--

"Who slanders his neighbor is a--what is he? The signification of the term SLANDER, according to the best authority, is _to belie_; to _speak falsely of_. Who, then, slanders another, belies him--lies concerning him. Do not men forget this when they go about to blacken and vilify the character of their neighbors? And can they be justified in resorting to it for revenge? Is not the command, 'Thou shalt not bear false witness,' as binding as any of the ten? The fact that they can have satisfaction in no other way, offers no apology. To resort to it only increases their guilt. They thus, to falsehood, add the indulgence of a wicked spirit of retaliation. This, when God has said, 'Vengeance is mine.' They are bound, by all that is sacred and good, to submit in silence, rather than make such attempts to punish the injurious.

"It is to be remarked here that slanderous reports generally have an air of truth about them, which make them more prejudicial and hurtful than if they went in their own native garb. They seem ashamed of themselves. If they can steal the livery of truth, they hold up their heads and are sure of passing. Were every slanderous report branded with its own name, and called, as it should be, a lie, the evil done would be less. But, going forth with the semblance of probability, under a more specious garb than that of the direct and downright falsehood, the injury done is often greater even than that intended by the slanderer. Hence, only aggravated guilt. Men cannot be too cautious how little they say, which is _true_ against others. Much less can they be too cautious how little they say which is positively false. Who love to hear themselves speak in this way will some time have abundant cause to regret their loquacity. Who love to speak lies may expect to gather fruit accordingly.

* * * * *

"There is another abuse of speech. It is not slander, but very like it. It has much of its meanness, and partakes of its guilt. They who indulge in it are the retailers of scandal. Their business argues a very morbid and sickly state of moral feeling. They are the snatchers up of inconsiderable trifles, who deal them out with infinite relish. They are traders in the small ware of slander, who magnify the value of their wares until they come to believe them real. The practice now referred to is that of reporting whatever one hears, adding, perhaps, a gloss of one's own; reporting it not perhaps upon the house-top--he might as well--but in the ears of others, until it becomes a common topic of conversation. What is peculiar to this is, that it is generally something prejudicial to the reputation or interests of his neighbor. To pry into that which is no concern of mine is mean. To report what I thus see and hear is contemptible. If this become general, no one is safe. All men would turn spies and scandal-mongers. No one will be safe, because no one's character will bear all kinds of exposure.

"Every man has his faults. Add to this that every man more quickly discovers his neighbor's than his own; then, that he is in a measure blind to his own, when discovered a beam is in his eye! and that this blindness is a magnifier to his neighbor's, and you have a sum total of probabilities, which renders it extremely likely that he who desires subjects for scandal will have realized his most sanguine expectations. Says the Latin fabulist, as I have some time read, speaking of the faults of men, 'Jupiter gives to every man two sacks: one with his own faults, to be carried on his back; another, with his neighbor's, to hang upon his breast'--

'On this account, man never can behold His own, but can his neighbor's faults unfold.'

Phædrus knew men. His fable is not all a fable. If not a fact, it casts the shadow of one. It is easier to unfold the faults of others than our own. And, if all should delight to do it, none would be safe.

"Then, what a disposition does such practice indicate! How dark a spirit! What moral obliquity and depravity! No good is intended, none secured. Should good result, it would be a disappointment to the tale-bearer. No doubt there is often the appearance of pity for the victim. Many a story is told with rueful countenance, and protestations of sorrow for the occurrence, when the teller is secretly exulting in the injury it will do. 'How often does the reputation of a helpless creature bleed by a report, which the party, who is at pains to propagate it, beholds with much pity and fellow-feeling, is heartily sorry for it, hopes in God it is not true; however, as Archbishop Tillotson wittily remarks upon it, is resolved, in the mean time, to give the report her pass, that, at least, it may have fair play to take its fortune in the world, to be believed or not, according to the charity of those into whose hands it may fall.'[11] What can be more contemptible or base!

"Then the injury that is done. How many reputations are thus ruined--ruin for which no one is responsible--by men and women, who deal their blows in the dark, who let fly their Parthian arrows and retreat! How much mischief is caused to families and neighborhoods by cowardly people, who skulk behind 'I reckon,' or 'they say,' while they protrude their venomed tongues covered with the poison of asps! Nay, how are whole communities often kept in a state of constant and feverish excitement by those whose tongues should blister with their utterances! And how soon would the fever be allayed, and the excitement die, and the strife cease, if those 'who whet their tongue like a sword, and bend their bows to shoot their arrows, even bitter words,' would learn to use aright the power of speech! And would this accomplish it? The Bible says it would. 'Where there is no tale-bearer the strife ceaseth.'"

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TO CORRESPONDENTS.--The following articles are accepted: "The Match-Making Mother," "Leaves from the Journal" (we shall use as we have room), "Going in Search of Impressions," "Imagination and Fancy among the Arabs," and "The Loss of the Hector."

"The Orphan Boy," a poem, that appeared in the February number, was from the pen of Robert G. Allison, now residing at Warrenton, N. C. His name was omitted by mistake.

We have not room for these articles, yet some are well worth publication: "The Prophecy," "Dreams," "Phædra," "To A----," "A Venetian Elopement," "Child's Evening Prayer," "The Poet's Lament," "Sibylline," "All Earth is Beautiful," "The Coquette," "Godey," "Lines," "Two Scenes in City Life," "Remien" (will be returned, if the author requests), "Home," "Lost at Sea," "Sonnet," "The Dying Girl," "Scene in the Garden," "Fancies," "Maria," "Musings," "Adieu to my Bower," "Old Forest Tree," "Ida Lofton," "Blossoms," "The dirge I hear," "The Bereaved," and "On the Death of two Children."

The above is a long list. We regret we cannot oblige all our friends, but the "Book" has its limits. We have heretofore alluded to the number of elegies and laments of the bereaved sent us for publication, and given our reasons for declining, generally, such poems. We think the newspaper circulating most largely in the vicinity of the "loved and lost," is the most suitable organ for these obituaries of the heart; the merits of the poetry are of less consequence to the reader who loves the memory of the dead. Elegiac poetry, when written to express individual grief, should be addressed to those who can sympathize with the bereaved, not to the general public, who read to criticize. A number of articles on hand are not yet examined.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 11: Sterne's Sermons.]

Literary Notices.

BOOKS BY MAIL.--Now that the postage on printed matter is so low, we offer our services to procure for our subscribers or others any of the books that we notice. Information touching books will be cheerfully given by inclosing a stamp to pay return postage.

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From J. S. REDFIELD, 110 and 112 Nassau Street, New York, through W. B. ZIEBER, Philadelphia:--

MELLICHAMPE. _A Legend of the Santee._ By W. Gilmore Simms, Esq., author of the "Partisan," "Yemassee," "Katharine Walton," "The Scout," etc. etc. This is another handsomely printed volume, uniform with the new and complete edition of the author's works, now in the course of publication. Judgment has already been passed upon the merits of this romance by many of the best literary and historical critics of our country. Their decisions have long since secured to the author, in connection with the "Partisan," and other and similar productions, the highest reputation among contemporary writers. It may be justly said of Mr. Simms that no American author of the same class has ever been truer to the leading facts of history, or more faithful in the delineation of the original characters of the actors he has introduced. None has been more successful in blending the witchery of romance with the patriotic, but often stern and cruel realities of revolutionary warfare. We have had many romances founded upon the events of the struggle which terminated in the independence of the United States, too many of which, we are sorry to say, have been characterized by inflation of style and exaggerated portraitures--by improbable and often impossible incidents, and a total departure from the historic record. Under such extravagances and perversions, we have not unfrequently seen persons elevated to a heroic and virtuous distinction in the romance of history, whom the truth of history had consigned to execration and infamy. We have the comfortable assurance, however, in perusing the pages of "Mellichampe," and similar works by the same author, that we have before us the true characters of the persons intended to be represented, and that the incidents have been faithfully delineated, yet all admirably woven together in the web of a fascinating romance.

THE DIVINE CHARACTER VINDICATED. A Review of some of the principal features of Rev. Dr. E. Beecher's recent work, entitled, "The Conflict of Ages; or, the Great Debate on the Moral Relations of God and Man." By the Rev. Moses Ballou. Persons fond of religious controversy, and more particularly those who have read Dr. Beecher's work, will no doubt take an interest in the "Vindication." This work appears to have been written with great candor, and equal explicitness, in regard to the religious views of the author, which differ very materially from those of Dr. B. What will be the amount of its influence in arresting the "conflict of ages," can only be conjectured by the effects produced by the controversies of the past. Theologians, though with the best intentions towards the establishment and preservation of peace, have been the great combatants in the conflict which, for ages, has distracted the human mind on speculative questions of religion, to determine which there has been no appeal but to man's fallible reason, to his prejudices, to his rashness, and to his spirit of hatred and persecution--power and might, not charity and good-will, being in most cases the arbiters. "A better day is coming," no doubt, when the sad conflict will cease forever. But that better day will have its dawn in "another and a better world," the beauties of which will be reserved for those who have kept aloof from the uncharitable warfares of this; and, in saying this much, we need not be brought into "conflict" with any one.

THE RUSSIAN SHORES OF THE BLACK SEA, IN THE AUTUMN OF 1852: _with a Voyage down the Volga, and a Tour through the Country of the Don Cossacks_. By Laurence Oliphant, author of "A Journey to Nepaul." From the third London edition. This is a very pleasant narrative, containing a great deal that is interesting in regard to the habits, customs, &c., of a portion of the inhabitants of Russia, bordering on the Black Sea. The book will elicit attention at this time, because it relates to a portion of the empire which must become the theatre of great events, should the war be prosecuted between it and the western powers of Europe. It is not exactly the work, however, for the statesman and politician, presenting but few statistics or practical observations from which reliable conclusions may be drawn.

THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM H. C. HOSMER. The poems of Mr. Hosmer are presented to us in two handsome volumes, respectively of 374 and 376 pages. The greater portion of the first volume is devoted to poems relating to Indians, the principal among which is "Yonnondio; or, the Warriors of the Genesee: a Tale of the Seventeenth Century." This poem was first published in 1844. Most of the shorter poems have, from time to time, appeared in the magazines and newspapers of the day, and evince not only the poetic taste and talent of the author, but the soundness of his moral sentiments, and his natural love of liberty and justice from his youth up.

MERRIMACK; OR, LIFE AT THE LOOM. _A Tale._ By Day Kellogg Lee, author of "Summerfield; or, Life on a Farm," and "Master Builder; or, Life at a Trade." Like all the other works of this author, the volume now before us, as a literary production, is quiet and unpretending; but it is not the less true to nature, in its delineations of the hopes, joys, labors, sufferings, and misfortunes of the class he represents. Their habits, conversations, and reflections, their moral and religious feelings, their friendships and their loves, are all drawn in characters true to the life, and with an easy, fluent power of description that is not often excelled. In the peculiar line of writing our author has chosen, there is a wide and interesting field before him. No kind of knowledge will have a greater tendency to cement the foundations of this republic than a familiar acquaintance, and its consequent sympathy, with the true life, characters, impulses, and labors of the various classes who contribute to its support and defence. To know one another is the best guaranty of union, and in "union there is strength."

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From LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, Philadelphia:--

THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED. By Rev. F. R. Anspach, A. M., Hagerstown, Maryland. A pure and happy Christian spirit pervades the pages of this volume, which cannot fail to infuse its genial glow into the hearts of all who will peruse it with the right dispositions. We believe the work is calculated to do a great deal of good wherever it may be read, and will unquestionably awaken a proper attention to the burial-places of the dead, which, as we know by experience, and by the complaints of newspaper editors and their correspondents, are shamefully neglected in various cities and towns of this Christian land.

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From C. M. SAXTON, Agricultural Book Publisher, New York, through E. C. & J. BIDDLE, Philadelphia:--

ELLIOTT'S FRUIT-BOOK: _or, the American Fruit-Grower's Guide in Orchard and Garden_. Being a compend of the history, modes of preparation, culture, &c., of fruit-trees and shrubs, with descriptions of nearly all the varieties of fruits cultivated in this country; notes of their adaptation to localities and soils, and also a complete list of fruits worthy of cultivation. By F. R. Elliott. The price of this valuable work, a handsome volume of five hundred pages, is only $1.50. The author is a practical man, who, for more than ten years, has been patiently, and, as he says, pleasantly engaged in the nurturing of trees and noting their products. Such a book as he has presented the public with will not fail to secure a ready and extensive sale in every part of the country where the least attention is paid to the cultivation of orchard fruits, or to those of the garden; and we feel sure that, in no spot where an "opening" or a "clearing" has been made, is the cultivation of fruit in some form or other entirely neglected. But, as it is important in the start to know the description of fruit adapted to the peculiarities of soil and climate by which the cultivator may happen to be surrounded, we unhesitatingly recommend the book to his examination and study.

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From LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, & CO. (successors to Grigg & Elliot), No. 14 North Fourth Street, Philadelphia:--

TRIALS AND CONFESSIONS OF AN AMERICAN HOUSEKEEPER. Portions of this handsome volume have been presented to the public in a different form; but, as a work of amusement, as well as of wisdom, it will not be the less acceptable on that account in its present shape, and with its numerous appropriate illustrations. The _trials_ will be found full of instruction for the inexperienced, and the _confessions_ will probably induce others to examine their consciences who now think themselves blameless. The last two chapters contain admirable lessons in regard to the treatment of servants, and the important duties of a mother to her children.

LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF A COUNTRY MERCHANT. _A Narrative of his Exploits at Home, during his Travels, and in the Cities._ Designed to amuse and instruct. By J. B. Jones, author of "Wild Western Scenes," "Adventures of Colonel Vanderbomb," "The Monarchist," etc. The design of the author has been admirably fulfilled. The contents of his volume are truly amusing; and, with regard to the peculiarities of mercantile life, and steamboat travelling in the West, it presents the reader with numerous instructive lessons and graphic sketches.

THE WINTER LODGE; _or, a Vow Fulfilled. An Historical Novel._ By James Weir. This volume is the sequel to "Simon Kenton." Its contents are highly interesting, being animated descriptions of the early condition of the western settlement, of the characters and habits of the people, and of their bloody contests with the Indians.

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From BESSEY & CO., Springfield, Mass., for sale by LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO, & CO., and T. B. PETERSON, Philadelphia:--

CUT FLOWERS: _a Collection of Poems_. By Mrs. D. Ellen Goodman Shephard. Edited by J. G. Holland. Many of the poetic effusions of the lamented author have graced the pages of the "Lady's Book" and the columns of "Arthur's Home Gazette." To the former work they were always most acceptable, not so much on account of their fastidious conformity to rhythmical rules, as for their happy and beautiful metaphors, and for the instructive lessons they contained; the former drawn from simple and natural objects, and the latter founded upon the truths of holy Revelation. We venture nothing by the assertion, that there is not a poem in this collection that will not meet with the kindest approval, and that there is not a sentiment expressed that will not find a willing response in the sympathies of the reader.

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From HARPER & BROTHERS, New York, through LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, Philadelphia:--

A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Charles Dickens. Vol. 2. England from the reign of Henry the Sixth to the Revolution of 1688. We have never seen the first volume of this history; and, after a short examination of the second, we think we may venture to say, with all deference to the great literary reputation of Mr. Dickens, that the style of his child's history is not very clear, and not always appropriate to the dignity, the solemnity, or the importance of the events related. In the effort to reach the comprehension of children, in our opinion, it was not necessary to relate deeds of injustice, murder, and rapine, however frequent their recurrence, in an off-hand and careless manner, in indifferent words, or to refer to them by a sneer or a joke. Such writing may be called sprightly and easy, but it is by no means calculated to leave a lasting impression of the baseness and cruelty of the deeds recorded upon the mind of the youthful reader, or a just detestation of the characters of those by whom they were perpetrated.

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From MILLER, ORTON, & MULLIGAN, Auburn & Buffalo, through T. B. PETERSON, Philadelphia:--

MINNIE HERMAN; _or, the Night and its Morning. A Tale for the Times._ By Thurlow W. Brown, author of "Temperance Tales and Hearthstone Reveries." The evils of intemperance, like the truths of Scripture and morality, cannot be too frequently or too warmly insisted upon by judicious and capable speakers and writers. They should be "kept before the people" continually, as the politicians say, in order, if possible, to awaken public opinion to a just sense of their enormity. The interest and importance of the subjects incidentally connected with the discussion are in no danger of being exhausted at present, and therefore not only the attention and patience of readers and hearers may be relied on, but very probably the footsteps of many will continue to be arrested, as they are starting upon the downward path which leads to poverty, crime, and dishonor. We are happy to recognize, in the author of the excellent volume before us, the able editor of the "_Cayuga Chief_," a popular newspaper published at Auburn, N. Y. Mr. Brown is an ardent and consistent advocate of temperance, and of the principles of the Maine Law, as his work will abundantly testify. In his zealous detestation of intemperance, he draws pictures of distress, misery, and crime, which sensitive hearts will naturally turn from with abhorrence, hoping, and even deeming it impossible that such incidents could ever have occurred in the midst of civilized society. But, alas! in those pictures, revolting and painful as they are, those who are familiar with the facts and the sad condition of its victims will recognize in this work the ever-present and unquestionable results of intemperance.

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From D. APPLETON & CO., No. 200 Broadway, New York, through C. G. HENDERSON & CO., corner of Fifth and Arch Streets, Philadelphia:--

RUSSIA AS IT IS. By Count A. De Gurowski. As everything connected with the history, power, and resources of Russia will, most probably for some time to come, form matters of deep interest and inquiry for the public mind, we may reasonably anticipate a full supply of information, and much speculation as to her rise, progress, and anticipated destiny. In forming our own opinions, however, upon any important question, it is not always safe to rely on the arguments or representations of enthusiasts, whose imaginations can easily figure out plausible results, because it is the honest desire of their hearts that just such results should happen. But, at the same time, we by no means intend that this remark shall apply to the work under consideration, for it is evidently from the pen of a statesman and philosopher; and, although the author may be still more or less of an enthusiast in regard to the destiny of races and empires, his principles and views are evidently the results of experience, reflection, and investigation. For nearly thirty years, as he tells us, his existence has been agitated by the political tempests overwhelming his native land, as well as other parts of Europe. He appears at one time to have been an admirer of the power and destiny of Russia. But in his youth he took an active part in the affairs of Poland, the land of his birth, and, in 1830-31, was driven into exile because he had participated in the insurrection of that period. His style is animated and attractive, much more so than is common in similar works of political inquiry.

CAT AND DOG; _or, Memoirs of Puss and the Captain_. An amusing book for children, filled with pretty engravings. A very interesting story, quite philosophical, too, and as well calculated for the perusal of the elder branches of the family as the younger.

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From BLANCHARD & LEA, Philadelphia:--

HISTORY OF OLIVER CROMWELL AND THE ENGLISH COMMONWEALTH, _from the Execution of Charles the First to the Death of Cromwell_. By M. Guizot. Translated by Andrew R. Scoble. In two volumes. This work embraces a period of sixty-three years, the events of which are the most exciting and remarkable in the history of England. The appendix to each volume contains valuable historical documents, which, being derived principally from the French Foreign Office, and now first published, add greatly to the interest of the work. A new character is given to many of the actors in that bloody civil war rendering the volumes more worthy and impartial than many of the histories that have preceded them.

ORR'S CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES. Nos. 1 and 2 of a series of treatises on every branch of human knowledge. No. 1 treats of the nature, connections, and uses of the great departments of human knowledge, by the editor. No. 2, the physiology of animal and vegetable life. With numerous illustrations.

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From WM. S. YOUNG, 173 Race Street, Philadelphia:--

ODD-FELLOWSHIP EXAMINED IN THE LIGHT OF SCRIPTURE AND REASON. By Joseph T. Cooper, Pastor of the Second Associate Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia. With an introduction by the Rev. J. B. Dales, D. D. Second edition. This work has been strongly recommended by a number of clergymen belonging to the Presbyterian church.

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From GOULD & LINCOLN, Boston:--

THE PRIEST AND THE HUGUENOT; _or, the Persecution in the Age of Louis XV_. From the French of L. Bungener. In two volumes. The aim of the work is well defined by its title. Monsieur Bungener, a minister of the "Reformed Church of Geneva," and author of a very popular work, "The Preacher and the King," has aimed to exhibit, in a series, the principal religious aspects of France, from the age of Louis Fourteenth to the close of the last century. This "Priest and the Huguenot" is the second work in the series, the "Preacher and the King" being the first, and will be found very interesting to all who wish to understand thoroughly the causes that have made and keep France what she is--Roman Catholic and Imperial--when her people seem made for civil and religious freedom. The translator, a lady of New York, has accomplished her difficult task with much success. The "characteristics of the French style of thought and expression" seem well preserved.

THE RELIGIONS OF THE WORLD AND THEIR RELATIONS TO CHRISTIANITY. By Frederick Dennison Maurice, M. A., Professor of Divinity in King's College, London. From the third revised London edition. This work is a brief analysis of the influential religions of the world, and of the relations of Christianity with the rest. The author searches out the germ, that principle in each belief which gives it vitality and power, and shows the adaptation of that especial truth to the needs of the people who embraced it, or of the time in which it prevailed. He then shows how far Christianity can accomplish the same purposes for all in a higher degree. This work is evidently the result of much study and reflection, and is written in a most liberal and comprehensive spirit.

THE CHRISTIAN WORLD UNMASKED. By John Berridge, A. M., Vicar of Everton, &c. With a life of the author, by the Rev. Thomas Guthrie, D. D. This is a reprint of a work written long ago by a clergyman of the Church of England, a worthy compeer of Whitfield and Wesley. Its object is to test the sincerity of the followers of Christ, and it is written in a plain and searching manner, that leaves the formalist but little room to escape. The style is animated and familiar, and, though sometimes peculiar, is always forcible and effective. The sincerity of the writer's belief and the strength of his mind are evident in every page.

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NOVELS, SERIALS, PAMPHLETS, &c.

From T. B. Peterson, 102 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia: "The Fortune Hunter: a Novel of New York Society." By Anna Cora Mowatt, author of the "Autobiography of an Actress; or, Eight Years on the Stage," etc. This is a cheap and very handsome reprint of a popular work, in which some of the peculiarities of "good society" in New York are freely delineated, leaving truthful and salutary impressions upon the mind of the reader.

From De Witt & Davenport, New York: "The Secretary; or, Circumstantial Evidence." By the author of "Heads and Hearts." A very thrilling story, intended to demonstrate the dangers of circumstantial evidence. Price 38 cents.

From D. Appleton & Co., 200 Broadway, New York, through C. G. Henderson & Co., Philadelphia: "Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence of Thomas Moore." Edited by the Right Hon. Lord John Russell, M. P. Parts 7 and 8. Price 25 cents.

From T. Elwood Chapman, Philadelphia: "Human Happiness: an Address delivered before the Pupils of Sharon Female Seminary." By John H. Bazley. We have given an extract from this in our "Table," which shows our appreciation of its merits.

From Beverly Tucker, Washington, D. C.: "Obituary Addresses on the occasion of the Death of the Hon. William R. King, of Alabama, Vice-President of the United States." These papers, selected from the Message of the President of the United States, and the speeches of eminent members of both Houses of Congress, form a worthy testimonial of the noble character of the man whose memory they honor. There is a portrait, said to be a striking likeness of Mr. King, beautifully engraved, adding to the interest of the book.

Godey's Arm-Chair.

OUR JUNE NUMBER.--END OF THE VOLUME.--No falling off yet. We continue, as we commenced, the same number, or rather more engravings, and one hundred pages; and so we shall continue throughout the year.

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BILL.--Webster devotes a column of his large dictionary in explaining what this word means; but the only one that we find applicable, after reading through the whole, is the following: "Bill, an account of goods sold or delivered, services rendered or work done, with the price or value annexed to each article." In fact, the bill which every owing subscriber will find in this number is a clearer definition than even Webster can give. And now we shall expect the ladies to stand our friends, as they always have done, and give their husbands or parents no rest until the same be liquidated.

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GIFT LOTTERIES, or whatever they may call them. We observe that some of these concerns are offering "Godey's Lady's Book" among their prizes. (The rogues know that the "Book" is a great inducement.) We now wish it understood that we have nothing to do with these concerns, and are adverse to having the "Lady's Book" mentioned in their schemes; and we earnestly advise all persons to have nothing to do with them. Don't purchase their tickets.

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AN ARTIST AT FAULT.--The Philadelphia "Sun" says: "'Godey' for April is on our table, filled with admirable reading, useful receipts, and information for the ladies. The embellishments are profuse, and all good but the 'Arrival of the Lady's Book;' the women appear too insensible of the treat the post-rider is bringing them. We must treat Godey to a daguerreotype of our family when the 'Book' arrives; such a scrambling and nimble cutting of leaves as take place on these occasions, would make a spirited illustration for one of the numbers. Root shall do it up some day, and then there will be a natural picture, with some point in it."

And depend upon it, friend Wallace, we will publish the picture.

* * * * *

TWENTY-FOUR years and six months, friend "Reveille," have we published the "Book." Six months more makes our quarter of a century, then for "the silver wedding." Thank you for your compliment!

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WHITE'S BONNET ESTABLISHMENT.--We give in this number nine patterns of bonnets and boys' caps from this extensive establishment, and we can truly say that ladies and wholesale merchants will find there fifty other different styles. Brodie has also again laid us under obligations to him for the beautiful styles of dress that we publish in this number.

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LONG-A-COMING.--Who does not remember this delightful mosquito retreat in Jersey, so properly named?--for it is so long after you leave the last watering-place before you reach Long-a-coming. But this is not what we intended to write about. We intended to say, Long a coming out; that is, Harry Long and his brother have moved from that dreadful dingy Ann Street store into a marble palace in Nassau Street. This is a building worthy of this enterprising house, and, when they get up that new sign, "Godey's Lady's Book," it will be perfect. We are glad thus to chronicle the prosperity of H. Long & Brother, which has made it necessary for them to enlarge their business accommodations, and to render their book establishment, No. 121 Nassau, one of the most splendid and extensive depots of books now in the United States.

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ANTI-MACASSAR.--The "Evansville Inquirer" says: "We have learned what an Anti-Macassar is, and are therefore wiser than all other men in town." That same term puzzled us for a time, and probably an explanation would not be amiss. It is the tidy that is put on the back of a chair to prevent any grease from the head soiling the chair. It is an English term, and no doubt the name was suggested by Rowland, of London, the manufacturer of Macassar hair oil, as a puff for his establishment.

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THE SCHUYLKILL BOATS.--These boats have commenced their delightful trips on the Schuylkill. There is no pleasanter way of spending a couple of hours on a hot day than to take a trip up this beautiful river as far as Manayunk. Strangers should not neglect it; our citizens hardly need urging. The boats are commodious, and the captains gentlemanly and obliging.

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SUMMER BEVERAGES.--Now is the time for our subscribers to provide themselves with these excellent and temperance receipts. See advertisement on cover.

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"'ALONE.'--This is the title of a new book, a Virginia book, written by a young Virginia lady, and treating chiefly of Virginia, which will be brought out in the best style by Mr. Morris, of this city. Lest the fact that it is a Virginia book, and the authoress a Virginian, may induce the Virginia public to lay aside this notice without reading farther, we will state at once that the literary merits of the fair young authoress have been approved beyond the waters, and her productions, coming back with English and French endorsement, will henceforth pass current, as a matter of course, in American literary circles. _Godey's Lady's Book_, speaking of a story which she had contributed to its pages, says: 'It may be interesting to this lady to know that the story of "Marrying Through Prudential Motives" has been copied from the _Lady's Book_ for March, 1853, into two of the English magazines--recopied into the New York _Albion_, that professes to give nothing but the cream of the English magazines, and now, being an English story, will no doubt be published by half the papers in the United States.'"

We copy the above from the "Richmond Dispatch," and our readers will remember that, in a late number, we published the _amende_ of the "Germantown Telegraph," who also copied the story and credited it to an English magazine. We have another story by the gifted authoress, the first part of which will be published in our July number, that will convince the most sceptical that she is one of the most powerful writers of the day.

We have been favored with some of the early sheets of "Alone," and we have been delighted with their perusal. Our only regret was that we had not the whole book. We predict a prominent place among the fair writers of America to the authoress of "Alone." The paper and typographical execution of the work are a credit to the publisher, Mr. Morris.

* * * * *

OUR PATTERNS.--Ladies do not seem to be aware that these patterns are _fac-similes_ of the originals in color, trimming, &c. At a distance, they would be taken for the garment itself. They could be worn in a _tableau_ without being detected.

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"PIONEER."--A new magazine from San Francisco. An excellent work, well printed, and favored with the effusions of Mr. Pipes, of Pipesville, a most humorous and excellent writer. We exchange with pleasure.

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MRS. SHEPARD'S POEMS.--The many friends and admirers of the late Mrs. Shepard, of Springfield, will be glad to learn that the collection of her poems, that have been for some time in preparation, has been published by Bessey & Co., under the attractive title of "CUT-FLOWERS," who now offer it for sale at their counter, and through their agents. The editor has presented a brief notice of her life, and an estimate of her literary character, and, in his selections from her large mass of printed and manuscript writings, has presented those poems which bear that general character which is necessary in a volume prepared for the public. The work is well printed, and well got up every way, and deserves an extended patronage.--_Daily Republican, Springfield, Mass._

We will answer for it that, if Bessey & Co. have anything to do with it, it is well done, for theirs is an enterprising firm.

* * * * *

THE third edition of "How to Make a Dress," and the fifth edition of the "Book of the Toilet," are now ready. We are also able to supply all orders for our "Gallery of Engravings," at 50 cents each.

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THE WORD "SELAH."--The translators of the Bible have left the Hebrew word Selah, which occurs so often in the Psalms, as they found it; and, of course, the English reader often asks his minister, or some learned friend, what it means. And the minister or learned friend has most often been obliged to confess ignorance, because it is a matter in regard to which the most learned have, by no means, been of one mind. The Targums, and most of the Jewish commentators, give to the word the meaning of _eternally forever_. Rabbi Kimchi regards it as a sign to elevate the voice. The authors of the Septuagint translation appear to have regarded it as a musical or rhythmical note. Herder regards it as indicating a change of tone; Matheson as a musical note, equivalent, perhaps, to the word _repeat_. According to Luther and others, it means _silence_. Gesenius explains it to mean, "Let the instruments play and the singer stop." Wocher regards it as equivalent to _sursum corda_--up, my soul. Sommer, after examining all the seventy-four passages in which the word occurs, recognizes in every case "an actual appeal or summons to Jehovah." They are calls for aid and prayers to be heard, expressed either with entire directness, or, if not in the imperative, "Hear, Jehovah!" or "Awake, Jehovah!" and the like, still earnest addresses to God that he would remember and hear, &c. The word itself he regards as indicating a blast of trumpets by the priests. Selah, itself, he thinks an abridged expression used for Higgaion Selah--Higgaion indicating the sound of the stringed instruments, and Selah a vigorous blast of trumpets.

* * * * *

WE never have "assisted" at one, as the French say; but, from the description that follows, we should like very well to join a "sugar party"--a sweet business:--

"MY DEAR GODEY: Did you ever attend an old-fashioned sugar party in the woods? If you have not, you have missed a pleasant hour, and the enjoyment of that open-hearted hospitality for which our Eastern farmers are distinguished. Imagine yourself in a forest of sturdy maples, averaging from seventy-five to one hundred and twenty-five feet in height, and from three to five feet in diameter. Before you are two or three large kettles, hung on a pole, and beneath them is a blazing fire. The kettles are half full of the amber-colored syrup; and you, with dish and spoon, together with some fifteen or twenty others, are testing its quality. You enjoy it heartily, for the parties are all in high spirits, and the woods echo to the songs that are sung, and the jokes that are perpetrated on all sides. Around you the violets and arbutus are blooming, and you are induced to wander away along the paths that wind through the woods in every direction in search of the flowers that are springing up in their dim recesses. If you have never attended one of those good old-fashioned sugar parties, allow me to invite you to visit us another season; and, if you have, you will be equally welcome.

"H. L. S."

* * * * *

LE CONTINENT EUROPEAN.--Mr. P. Beaugereau, aided by several of his countrymen, has begun the publication in our city of a French weekly newspaper. He looks for patronage not only to the French residents in this section of the country, but to foreigners and Americans who speak or read French. We wish him a large share of success!

* * * * *

"MRS. HALE'S COOK-BOOK" we will furnish at $1.25, and pay the postage. Mrs. Hale's "Household Book" on the same terms.

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BACK numbers of the "Lady's Book" can be supplied from January, as the work is stereotyped.

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WE have lost a friend in Philip G. Collins, a member of the firm of T. K. & P. G. Collins, who print the "Lady's Book." We have been acquainted with him for many years, and had many opportunities of studying him closely. Few men possessed a clearer mind, or could better express themselves than Mr. Collins. His reading was very extensive, and his retention wonderful. We copy the following notice from the "North American" of this city, written by one who knew him well:--

"PHILIP G. COLLINS.--The demise of Philip G. Collins, of the well-known firm of T. K. & P. G. Collins, of this city, has left a vacancy in the ranks of practical printers among us, which few are competent to fill. His knowledge of his art was equally intimate and exact. He was, we believe, one of the founders of the Typographical Society, in the welfare of which he manifested, to the day of his death, a warm interest. His qualities of head and heart won the esteem of all who knew him; and his loss will be deeply regretted, not only by his immediate family, but by a large circle of admiring acquaintances who partook of his friendship."

* * * * *

IN answer to our friend of the "West Philadelphia Reporter," we must say that we do not wonder that the mistake is made. He will see that when our name is set in capitals it does make LOUISA GODEY. But that portrait will show them that we are not of the same gender as Lingos dulcinea.

Amo amas, I love a lass, As cedar tall and slender; Sweet cowslip's grace is her nominative case, And she's of the feminine gender.

* * * * *

"GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK.--We have received this beautiful periodical from its polite and accomplished editor. It is filled with reading matter of the highest order, and in engravings it surpasses anything we have seen. In this department it is far ahead of any other American Magazine. Godey is particularly fortunate in catering for the literary public, and especially does he please the ladies. In fact, we believe that about three-fourths (and a _little over_) of his _fair_ subscribers have fallen in love with 'THAT LIKENESS.' (We hope friend G. will not step out of his boots to be told so.) No lady's table should be without the 'Book.'"--_Tenn. Christian Universalist._

No! not a bit! For that would detract from our height, and we have nothing to spare in that respect. We are only sorry that we published our likeness at that time. It was taken at a season when few subscriptions are received. Were it taken now, it would be quite a different-looking affair. The great influx of subscribers for the last six months has made us look at least ten years younger--and of course brighter.

* * * * *

YES! that very thing has been bothering us, as our friend of the "Salisbury Banner" says: "How any man that has a wife can live at peace at home without subscribing for the 'Lady's Book,' passes our comprehension." And it does ours. We wish they could not.

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WE did not think that our "Book" afforded so good a subject for an alliteration. The "Genesee Flint Whig" says:--

"It is replete with attractions of every kind that a lady's book ought to possess. Amusement and instruction, fine arts and fashion, music and model cottages, nouvellettes and needlework, drawing and domestic recipes, poetry and patterns--are all interspersed with good taste and judicious arrangement."

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CASHMERE SHAWLS.--The great mart for the wool of which these shawls are made is at Kilghet, which is said to be a dependency of Ladak, and situated twenty days' journey from the northern boundaries of Cashmere. There are two kinds of it--that which can be readily dyed is white; the other sort is an ashy color, which, being with difficulty changed, or at least improved by art, is generally woven of its natural hue. About two pounds of either are obtained from a single goat once a year. After the down has been carefully separated from the hairs, it is repeatedly washed with rice starch. This process is reckoned important, and it is to the quality of the water of their valley that the Cashmerians attribute the peculiar and inimitable fineness of the fabrics produced there. At Kilghet, the best raw wool is sold for about one rupee a pound. By the preparation and washing referred to, it loses one-half, and the remainder being spun, three rupees' weight of the thread is considered worth one rupee. Shawls are made of various forms, size, and borders, which are wrought separately, with the view of adapting them to the different markets. Those sent to Turkey used to be of the softest and most delicate texture. Carpets and counterpanes are fabricated of the hair or coarser part of the wool.

* * * * *

"GODEY'S GALLERY OF STEEL ENGRAVINGS.--We are indebted to the publisher of 'Godey's Lady's Book' for Nos. 1 and 2 of these Splendid Steel Engravings. Over thirty of the finest are neatly done up in each number, and are furnished for the low price of fifty cents per number--a very pretty ornament for the parlor."--_Litchfield Inquirer._

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HOW TO MAKE DEAF PERSONS HEAR THE PIANO-FORTE.--The instrument should be opened, and a rod of deal wood provided about half an inch thick, three-quarters wide, and long enough to reach from the bridge of the sounding-board to the mouth of the deaf person. If one end of this rod be made to rest firmly on the bridge, and the other end be held between the teeth, the softest sounds will be distinctly communicated.--_Musical Transcript._

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A DEFENCE OF STORY WRITERS.--The "Marysville Advocate" says:--

"Godey's Lady's Book has been received; it contains some excellent tales, that bear a moral on every page. We are at issue with those who are opposed to this class of reading. Whenever scenes are portrayed that resemble such as are of frequent occurrence in the world, even should the narrative be drawn entirely from the fertile imagination of its author, we approve of its perusal. The reader gleans a knowledge of events from it, that might otherwise remain a sealed book. Who, for instance, would ever dream (had they never witnessed them) of the sufferings of widows and orphans in cities, so graphically and pathetically depicted by that prince of writers, T. S. Arthur, in his 'Trials of a Needlewoman'?

"'Letters left at the Pastry-Cook's' are written with great _naïveté_, and display considerable familiarity with human nature."

* * * * *

NEWS FOR THE LADIES.--An extraordinary custom prevails among the Vizres, a tribe occupying an extensive district in Cabul, among the mountains between Persia and India. The women choose their husbands, not the husbands their wives. If a woman be pleased with a man, she sends the drummer of the camp to pin a handkerchief to his cap, with the pin she uses to fasten her hair. The drummer watches his opportunity and does this in public, naming the woman; and the man is obliged to marry if he can pay her price to her father.

* * * * *

THE "Covington Kentuckian" is responsible for the following:--

"Somebody says 'there ought to be in every well-regulated family at least one baby, just for the fun of the thing;' so we say of the 'Lady's Book;' every family ought to have at least one copy, 'just for the fun of the thing.'"

* * * * *

TO writers in general, and for those of the "Lady's Book" in particular. We regret that we cannot reply to all the kind letters sending us articles for insertion, as our time will not permit.

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MARRY.--Jeremy Taylor says: "If you are for pleasure, marry; if you prize rosy health, marry. A good wife is Heaven's last best gift to man; his angel and minister of graces innumerable; his gem of many virtues; his casket of jewels; her voice is sweet music; her smiles, his brightest day; her kiss, the guardian of his innocence; her arms, the pale of his safety, the balm of his health, the balsam of his life; her industry, his surest wealth; her economy, his safest steward; her lips, his faithful counsellors; her bosom, the softest pillow of his cares; and her prayers, the ablest of Heaven's blessings on his head."

* * * * *

TWO charming women were discussing one day what it is which constitutes beauty in the hand. They differed in opinion as much as in the shape of the beautiful member whose merits they were discussing. A gentleman friend presented himself, and by common consent the questions were referred to him. It was a delicate matter. He thought of Paris and the three goddesses. Glancing from one to the other of the beautiful white hands presented to him, which, by the way, he had the cunning to hold for some time in his own, for purposes of examination, he replied, at last: "I give it up; the question is too hard for me; but ask the poor, and they will tell you that the most beautiful hand in the world is the hand that _gives_."

* * * * *

CURIOUS EFFECT OF THE CENSUS.--_Punch_, most ungallantly, makes the following remarks: "One of the most remarkable of the _Results of the Census_ was its effect on the age of that beautiful production of nature, familiarly known as the British female. The census had, in fact, the same sort of operation on the ages of women as a declaration of war would have on the public funds. Our own cook, who had been familiarly quoted in the house as upwards of fifty, fell suddenly to thirty-eight, at which she has nominally remained; but no settling day has been appointed, nor is it likely that there will be any settling at such a clearly ideal figure."

* * * * *

WE published some time since a statement that cranberries were an excellent remedy for erysipelas. The "New Haven Palladium" says:--

"We are able to record another case of the complete cure of erysipelas by the simple application of the raw cranberries pounded fine. The patient was a young lady, one side of whose face had become so much swollen and inflamed that the eye had become closed and the pain excessive. A poultice of cranberries was applied, and after several changes, the pain ceased, the inflammation subsided, and in the course of a couple of days every vestige of the disease had disappeared. The case occurred in the family of one of the editors of the 'Palladium,' and we can therefore vouch for its truth."

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MISS LESLIE'S NEW RECEIPTS FOR COOKING.--T. B. Peterson of this city is about to bring out a new edition of "Miss Leslie's New Receipts for Cooking." A very excellent work.

* * * * *

PEACH-STONES.--We acknowledge the receipt of several peach-stones from that celebrated tree, the fruit of which we chronicled some time since. They were sent us by our ever-attentive friend, Mr. Andrews, editor of that popular paper, the "Macon Citizen."

* * * * *

THE following remarks were endorsed on an Augusta, Ga., bank note received a few days since, in payment for a subscription to the "Lady's Book":--

"I give you very freely, although it is in payment of an unjust debt. The cheerfulness with which I part with you results from the fact that it will save me from innumerable duns.

H. I. P."

"I part with this bill as cheerfully as did Mr. H. I. P. I spend it for supper, lodgings, and breakfast, at the poorest tavern on earth. I spend it cheerfully, because it enables me to get away.

L. C. K."

"And I for hitching my horse to a fence in Pulaski, Tenn.

W. O. W."

"And I part with you for the best magazine in the world, 'Godey's Lady's Book.'

A. D. S."

The following was on a note, Bank of South Carolina, received from the same person:--

"I part with you freely, as you go to pay for the best magazine in America, 'Godey's Lady's Book.'

A. D. S."

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YOUNG ladies had better try the following before they say "Yes!"--

If a man waits patiently while a woman is "putting her things on," or "shopping," he will make a good husband.

* * * * *

WE shall begin to make a stir by and by, about not crediting articles taken from the "Lady's Book." We can't prevent the English Magazines from copying without crediting, but we shall certainly take the liberty of cutting from our exchange any paper that we find doing it in this country. A Boston paper recently published a story without credit, and when informed that it was our article, they made the _amende_; but in the same paper that contained the apology was one of the very best articles we ever published, "The Fountain very far Down," with the name of the author, Mrs. Virginia F. Townsend, omitted, and no credit given to the "Book." Look out, gentlemen, if ---- pay for stories and give you the privilege of copying them, the least you can do is to give us credit for them.

* * * * *

BIZARRE.--A new volume of this interesting work is now being published. We do not know who is the editor, but he makes an excellent work. The publisher is G. A. Correa, No. 232 Chestnut St. The price per annum is $2.

* * * * *

ORDERS for the new fashions continue to pour in upon us. Every one is attended to and forwarded within two days after its receipt. We have lately had three orders for lady's wearing apparel, amounting to $275, and have sent any number of White's bonnets and Mrs. Suplee's patterns.

* * * * *

SCIENTIFIC AGREEMENT.--A California paper tells the story of a showman who delighted an "appreciating public" with a view of the Mammoth Cave. It was his custom, as each scene was exhibited, to explain it. When the great cave came to view, he stepped forward and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a great phenomenon, indeed the greatest in the world. The learned of all nations have visited it; but none could agree as to the cause which had produced it; they all came to this grand conclusion, that it was one of the most tremendous holes in the ground they had ever seen."

GERANIUMS.

(_From Mrs. Hale's New Household Receipt-Book._)

THE shrubby kinds are commonly increased by cuttings, which, if planted in June or July, and placed in the shade, will take root in five weeks. They are the most tender, and when placed out of doors, should be defended from strong winds, and be so placed as to enjoy the sun until eleven o'clock in the morning. As the shrubby kinds grow fast, so as to fill the pots with their roots, and push them through the opening at the bottom, they should be moved every two or three weeks in summer, and the fresh roots cut off. They should also be newly potted twice in the summer: once about a month after they are placed abroad, and again towards the end of August. When this is done, all the roots outside the earth should be pared off, and as much of the old earth removed as can be done without injuring the plants. They should then be planted in a larger pot; some fresh earth should first be laid at the bottom, and on that the plant should be placed, so that the old earth adhering to it may be about an inch below the rim of the pot; it should next be filled up, and the pot slightly shaken; the earth must then be gently pressed down at the top, leaving a little space for water to be given without running over the rim; finally, the plant should be liberally watered, and the stem fastened to a stake, to prevent the wind displacing the roots before they are newly fixed.

As the branches grow, and new leaves are formed at the top of them, the lower ones may die, and should be plucked off every week.

Geranium slips should be planted in May, June, or July, taking only the last year's shoots, from which the leaves must be stripped. When planted, give them water, and place them in the shade: when they have taken root, let them have the sun in the morning. The slips chosen for cutting should not be such as bear flowers; and they should be inserted about half their length in the earth.

Geraniums, except the shrubby kinds, require shelter from frost only, and should have free air admitted to them, when the weather is not very severe. In sultry weather, they should all be watered liberally every morning, except some few of a succulent nature, which must be watered sparingly; the latter may be known by plucking a leaf from them. Geraniums may be watered three times a week, when not frosty, in winter.

* * * * *

DR. R. MONTGOMERY BIRD.--We have been favored with a lithographic portrait of our lamented friend, and it is the best likeness, we can safely say, that we ever saw of any person. "It is his image as he lived." The drawing is by Alfred Newsam; the printing by Duval.

* * * * *

WE found the following beautiful article in the "Rochester Daily Democrat":--

A GRAVE IN THE DESERT.--The grave of JAMES F. DEWEY, a brother of D. M. D., of this city, was recently visited by a friend, who found it upon a knoll, on the bank of a stream, near the village of Rag Town, the first station west of the Great Desert. The resting-place of our young townsman was inclosed with a novel description of paling. At this point--the desert having been crossed, and El Dorado in full prospect--the emigrants abandon and break up their wagons, and throw aside all heavy lumber, going through the remainder of the journey light. The wagon-tires that are found there cast away were set up around the grave, interlocked so as to form a fence, and about them were twined trace chains, to render it more substantial and slightly ornamental. In the silence of the plain, by the side of running waters--the first that gladdens the eyes and soothes the lips of the emigrant on the other side of the Great American Desert--he sleeps well. His death was caused by the bite of a scorpion.

PHILADELPHIA AGENCY.

A WORD FROM THE FASHION EDITOR.--We are desired by this lady to mention one or two things to her patrons; the first is, that sufficient time must be given her when orders are received to have dresses made. A case in point has just occurred. A gentleman brought an order to have several dresses made up. He arrived on Wednesday; they must _positively_ be done on Saturday following, to be packed with his goods here. Knowing the impossibility of having the material and trimming purchased, and the dresses made in that time, the articles and trimmings only were purchased, and the patterns to make them by were sent. Besides, there were books, mantle ornaments, &c., to procure. They were all ready and packed on the day. The gentleman did not call until thirteen days had elapsed, and then we were desired to send them by express. The dresses could have been made, if our Fashion Editor had been allowed the thirteen days from the time the order was received. There is one other matter she wishes us to express: cheap as articles are in this city, she cannot procure ten dollars' worth of any articles for five dollars.

Since writing the above, another case has occurred. A lady sent on for materials for a dress, and the same to be made up. The order and money were received on Monday. On Wednesday, early in the morning, an order was received to deliver the dress to the bearer. The people of Philadelphia are pretty smart; but dressmakers--good ones--are perfect autocrats. They are like what the lover said of fathers: "they have flinty hearts; no tears can move them." From one to two weeks is necessary to have a dress made.

* * * * *

LADIES all, do put the _State_ your town is in when you write.

* * * * *

"Mrs. M. E. C."--Sent apron pattern and music on 21st.

"Miss M. S. G."--Sent all your goods in one large box by Adams's Express on 22d, and sent you receipt by mail.

"Mrs. J. H."--Sent patterns on 22d.

"Mrs. A. P."--Sent patterns on 22d.

"Mrs. B."--Sent patterns on 22d.

"Mrs. E. C."--Sent patterns on 23d.

"S. E. A."--Sent shawl by Adams's Express 24th.

"Eustatia A."--We have more of your No. 1 inquiry than we can use in three years. In answer to question 2, our own cotton has entirely superseded Evans's. Can furnish you at 8 cents a spool. Remittance received and "Book" sent.

"C. F. B."--Sent materials for dress by Adams & Co. on 25th.

"Mrs. S. J. F."--Sent patterns by mail on 25th.

"A. L. M."--Pronounced _Gódey_; accent on first syllable.

"N. W."--Sent bracelets by mail on 27th.

When information is asked, a stamp must be inclosed to pay return postage.

"A Subscriber," at Fredericksburg, O.--Answer by Fashion Editor: Only plain colors. Send $1.50, and I will send you a pattern of a dress. The watch-pocket should be on the left side; they are made plain, as they are on the inside of the dress, and not seen.

"Miss R. W. T."--Sent patterns on the 27th.

"Miss A. L. O."--Sent brushes by Kinsley & Co. on the 28th.

"Miss A. P."--"Spectator," one volume $2.50, in six volumes $9. Have nothing to do with eye-cups.

"Miss A. B. H."--Sent two parasols by Kinsley's Express on 28th.

"Mrs. M."--Black velvet.

"Mrs. N. M. T."--Sent jewelry by mail 29th.

"Miss A. H."--Can get at White & Co. any kind of bonnet you may want.

"J. W. L."--Sent patterns and Condor Pen by mail 28th.

"Mrs. J. C. T."--Sent patterns on the 28th.

"M. T."--Sent patterns on the 28th.

"S. E. D."--Sent patterns on the 28th.

"S. F."--Sent gold pen on the 28th.

"S. H. D."--Sent articles by mail on 30th.

"Mrs. J. B. B."--Sent patterns on the 1st.

"Miss S. F. L."--Sent patterns on the 1st.

"Mrs. L. L. G."--Sent box by Adams's Express on 1st.

"H. C. P."--Sent chart by mail on 4th.

"W. L. A."--The two bonnets delivered to Dr. A., April 4, '54.

"Mrs. S. H. A."--Sent bonnet by Adams & Co., April 4, '54.

"J. C. W."--Sent box by Adams & Co. on 5th.

"Miss C. V. J."--Sent box by Adams & Co. on 5th.

"Miss J. H."--Sent needles on the 7th.

"H. E. G."--Sent pattern on the 7th.

"New Bedford."--We were obliged to paste your name on the back of letter; could not make it out. It is not pleasant, we know; but every lady should write her name plain, and put before it Miss or Mrs., as the case may be.

"Mrs. C. B."--Sent patterns by Adams's Express on 8th.

"Mrs. T. S. S."--Sent patterns by mail on 11th.

"Mrs. J. C. C."--Sent patterns by mail on 11th.

"Mrs. S. W. B."--Sent patterns by mail on 12th.

"Mrs. D. E. H."--Sent blonde by mail on 12th.

"Mrs. M. T."--Sent patterns and cotton by mail on 13th.

"A. M. M."--Sent patterns by mail on 13th.

"Mrs. M. L. C."--Sent patterns by Adams & Co. on 13th.

"Mrs. J. B. H.," California.--Sent jewelry and patterns by mail on 15th.

"An Old Subscriber," Detroit.--Can you inform us in or about what number the crochet alphabet was published? Perhaps we can supply you the numbers. Many thanks for your good wishes.

"Ella H."--We will publish it in our July number.

"A. H. O."--Gold spectacles sent by mail 17th.

"Miss C. L. B."--To engrave and publish the diagram you request will cost us $50, and we can send you a pattern that will only cost you $1.25.

"Mrs. General P."--Sent patterns by mail on 17th.

No orders attended to unless the cash accompanies them.

All persons requiring answers by mail must send a post-office stamp.

The Borrower's Department.

"_The wicked borroweth and payeth not again._"

THE "Southern Sentinel" says: "We do not see how the ladies can do without this admirable work." They don't; those who are not subscribers borrow. It is a fair calculation to suppose that there are at least five persons who read each number of the "Lady's Book." Now, as we have only 80,000 subscribers, this would make 400,000 readers, 320,000 of whom borrow the "Book."

* * * * *

"GODEY AGAIN.--'Have you received the Lady's Book for April?' says a lady friend to us. 'Really,' she continued. 'I _do_ think that GODEY is the most enterprising and shrewd publisher in the Union. He is always "ahead of time," and I can hardly wait even then! Will you _lend it to me as soon as it comes_?' Of course, we wanted to accommodate a friend--and especially awkward was it to say _no_ to a lady; but we told her that we wanted to keep them neat and clean for binding, and gently hinted that for $3 she could get it without being dependent upon the printer! After second thought, however, we have concluded to lend _this_ incomparable number, making the borrower promise to immediately subscribe."--_Palmyra Sentinel._

* * * * *

THE "Lawrence Journal" says:--

"We want to raise a club of about one hundred in Newcastle; so please hand in your names, with the cash, and hereafter don't ask us, or our better half, to lend it when you can get it for two dollars per annum."

* * * * *

THE "Manheim Sentinel" vows that he will not lend his number. "We have been already asked by several to lend ours, but our answer is, 'Ladies, we don't lend Godey.'"

* * * * *

THE "Newark Democrat" is positive. It says:--

"Remember, we can't lend our 'Book.' Godey has interdicted it expressly."

* * * * *

"GODEY FOR MARCH.--We came very near forgetting our old friend and always welcome visitor, 'Godey's Lady's Book.' Our apology is that the ladies--bless their precious souls!--took possession of it instanter, and we have not seen it since. But in subsequent discussions of matters of feminine delicacy and taste, we have been reminded that GODEY is the _primum mobile_ of fashion, and the oracle of parlor conversations. According to the ladies, he is a 'jewel'--with us, he is a 'trump.'"--_Geo. Am. Union._

Chemistry for Youth.

DECOMPOSITION OF WATER.--Take a grain of potassium, wrap it up in a small piece of thin paper, and introduce it into a test tube, or small phial, inverted under water, and full of the same fluid. It immediately rises to the top, and, combining with the oxygen of the water, an equivalent of hydrogen gas is given off, which expels the water from the tube or phial, and occupies its place. A lighted match brought to the mouth of the tube will prove the presence of the hydrogen.

* * * * *

THE ILLUMINATOR AND EXTINGUISHER.--Take three glass jars, of equal heights, the first containing common air, the second carbonic acid gas, and the third oxygen gas; plunge, successively, a lighted candle into these jars, first into that holding common air, then into the carbonic acid, and, lastly, into the oxygen gas. In the jar containing atmospheric air, the candle will burn with ordinary brightness; in that filled with carbonic acid gas, the flame will be instantly extinguished, but the glowing wick will be relighted in the oxygen, and burn with increased brilliancy.

* * * * *

MINERAL CHAMELEON.--If one part of the oxide of manganese, and three parts of the nitrate of potass, be heated to redness in a crucible till no more oxygen gas be given off (the heat must be very considerable), a friable green powder is obtained, generally known by the name of mineral chameleon, from its property of changing color during its solution in water. If a small quantity of the powder be put into a glass of water, it soon forms a green solution, when it passes into a violet hue; and lastly it becomes of a beautiful red color. If put into warm water, the changes take place more rapidly, and are much more diversified. Mineral chameleon is a manganate of potass, and it rapidly absorbs oxygen from the atmosphere. The changes of color that occur are owing to the different degrees of oxidizement of the metal.

Enigmas.

ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS IN MAY NUMBER.

16. Eternity. 17. Flea. 18. Prayer-book. 19. A bullet.

* * * * *

ENIGMAS.

20.

I COME from Nova Zembla's coast, Greenland's realms of ice and frost, Where the Arctic's waters white Glisten in the moon's chill light; Where the sunbeam's ardent ray Burns but for a single day. O'er the "living and the dead" I my restless course have sped, And many a work of woe, I ween, Showeth where my flight hath been. At a noble's dwelling, rich and high, A beggar waited, with downcast eye; His timeworn locks were silvery white, And he prayed for shelter a single night; But the haughty menials within the wall Heeded not his weary call. I breathed on him with my icy breath, And lo! his limbs were stiff in death! A pale young mother by want opprest Clasped her babe to her aching breast; I listened as in accents wild, She prayed that God would save her child. Then I swept along in the hurricane's play, While skylit torches illumed my way. With the shade of my measureless wing I embraced That mother and child, and they both are at rest. I hurried me on in the tempest's black car, With the thunder to herald my coming afar; I stayed not, nor stopped till I reached the broad main, Where I lashed the bright waves till they maddened with pain. I call to the clouds; at my voice they arise, And ope, at my bidding, the gates of the skies. No law have I but to work my will; And where is the power that can bid me "Be still?"

LUCIA C. PENDLETON.

21.

OF brethren seven The youngest by birth, But, favored by heaven, I'm chiefest on earth.

I'm regarded with love By my friends good and wise, And am honored above Every crown 'neath the skies

There's a charm in my name, All so radiant and pure, That my canonized fame With the world must endure.

Such a glory I shed Upon each mundane scene-- On the dungeon of dread, Or the court of the queen.

The fair landscape I gild For contemplative eyes, As all nature seems filled With a radiance they prize.

My six brothers, in twin, May bring riches and pleasure, But in me you'll discern That unparalleled treasure--

That alleviates care, That reanimates labor, And man's peace should repair With his God and his neighbor.

22.

A WARRIOR and a man I am, And gallant fame have I; Yet my humanity's a sham, For I neither live nor die.

Receipts, &c.

DOMESTIC RECEIPTS.

EGGS AND OMELETTES.

TO CHOOSE EGGS.--In choosing eggs, hold them to the light; if they are clear, they are fresh; if they are thick, they are stale; if they have a black spot attached to the shell, they are worthless. Eggs should be new, or not more than twenty-four hours old, when they are stored, else their flavor cannot be relied on. The safest mode of choosing them is by holding them to the light of a candle. Unless an egg is perfectly fresh, it is unfit for any purpose. Bought eggs ought always to be suspected; therefore, let an earthen pan be kept with charcoal or lime-water to put them in. The longer they are kept in it the better they will be, as these waters destroy must, and even corruption. You may try the freshness of eggs by putting them in a pan of cold water. Those that sink the soonest are the freshest. Eggs may be preserved a short time by putting them in a jar of salt or lime-water, with the small ends downwards. The salt should not afterwards be used. They may be preserved several months by greasing them all over with melted mutton suet, and wedging them close together in a box of bran. The small ends always downwards.

* * * * *

TO KEEP EGGS FOR WINTER USE.--Pour a full gallon of boiling water on two quarts of quicklime and half a pound of salt; when cold, mix it into an ounce of cream of tartar. The day following put in the eggs. After the lime has been stirred well into the boiling water, a large part of it will settle at the bottom of the vessel, on which the eggs will remain. Keep them covered with the liquor, and they will keep for two years.

* * * * *

TO BOIL EGGS TO EAT IN THE SHELLS, OR FOR SALADS.--The fresher laid the better; put them into boiling water; if you like the white just set, about two minutes' boiling is long enough; a new-laid egg will take a little longer; if you wish the yolk to be set, it will take three, and to boil it hard for a salad, ten minutes. A new-laid egg will require boiling longer than a stale one, by half a minute.

* * * * *

POACHED EGGS.--The beauty of a poached egg is for the yolk to be seen blushing through the white, which should only be just sufficiently hardened to form a transparent veil for the egg. Have some boiling water in a teakettle; pass as much of it through a clean cloth as will half fill a stewpan; break the egg into a cup, and when the water boils, remove the stewpan from the stove, and gently slip the egg into it; it must stand till the white is set; then put it over a very moderate fire, and as soon as the water boils, the egg is ready; take it up with a slice, and neatly round off the raged edges of the white; send it to table on bread toasted on one side only, with or without butter.

* * * * *

TO POACH EGGS IN THE FRYING-PAN.--Put very little butter, oil, or top-pot into the frying-pan; break the eggs gently into a deep cup, of the size the egg is to be of, sometimes smaller, sometimes larger; with a quick slight turn of the hand, turn the cup over with the egg into the pan, and leave the cup upon it, and continue to turn over the cups till all the eggs are put in; the fire must be very slow. When the first egg has taken, raise the cup a little to ascertain it. They must be done very slowly, otherwise the under part will be overdone. Dress them over parsley, spinach, or on toasted bread.

* * * * *

CUPPED EGGS.--Put a spoonful of very nice high-seasoned brown gravy into each cup; set the cups in a saucepan of boiling water, and, when the gravy heats, drop a fresh egg into each cup; take off the saucepan, and cover it close till the eggs are nicely and tenderly cooked; dredge them with very fine mace, or nutmeg and salt. Serve them in a hot-water plate, covered with a napkin.

* * * * *

ŒUFS BROUILLES.--Break four or six eggs; beat them and put them into a saucepan with a piece of butter, a little salt, and a spoonful of sauce or gravy, which makes the eggs softer; stir them over the fire until sufficiently thick; serve on a plate garnished with toasted bread. To eggs dressed in this way, ham, mushrooms, &c., minced, may be added. The difference between this and an omelette is, that an omelette is compact and turns out smooth, whereas _œufs brouillés_ are less done, and are, therefore, broken. In Ireland, where it is in general use, it is usually served upon hot buttered toast, and is there called "buttered eggs." It is also very common in France, where it is usually served for breakfast.

* * * * *

_Or_: Butter a dish well, and sprinkle it with salt; then break the eggs very carefully, so as not to disturb the yolk; add a little more salt, and some white pepper; melt a small quantity of butter, and pour it gently over, with one or two spoonfuls of cream. Put the dish over a slow fire, and finish the eggs by covering them with a red-hot shovel.

* * * * *

SOUFFLE FRANCAISE.--Put into a stewpan one ounce of butter; when melted, add two table-spoonfuls of flour; stir them well over the fire, so that the flour be thoroughly cooked, but not colored; add by degrees a wineglass of boiling cream, and four times that quantity of boiling milk; work it quite smooth, take it off the fire, add four yolks of eggs, sugar to palate, a grain of salt, and a table-spoonful of orange-flower water; whip up strongly the whites of eight eggs, mix them lightly in the batter, put the whole into a soufflé-dish, and bake for an hour. The flavor of this souffle may be varied according to fancy, omitting the orange-flower water, and substituting either vanilla, curacoa, noyeau, maraschino, chocolate, coffee, &c.

* * * * *

A COMMON OMELETTE.--From four to eight very fresh eggs may be used for this, according to the sized dish required. Half a dozen will generally be sufficient. Break them singly and carefully; clear them, or, when they are sufficiently whisked, pour them through a sieve, and resume the beating until they are very light. Add to them from half to a whole teaspoonful of salt, and a seasoning of pepper. Dissolve in a small frying-pan a couple of ounces of butter; pour in the eggs, and as soon as the omelette is well risen and firm throughout, slide it on to a hot dish, fold it together like a turnover, and serve it immediately. From five to seven minutes will fry it.

* * * * *

A SWEET OMELETTE WITH PRESERVE.--Beat up four eggs with a little salt; add sugar; fry the omelette in fresh butter, make a half pound of preserve liquid by shaking it in a little water over the fire; spread half upon the omelette, double it up, and pour the remainder over the top.

* * * * *

FRENCH OMELETTE.--Beat up four eggs with a table-spoonful of milk, a little salt and pepper; put two ounces of fresh butter in the pan, and let it remain for five minutes; beat the eggs for the same time; pour them into the pan, and let them remain quiet for a few minutes, taking care to separate the omelette gently from the bottom of the pan with a fork; now shake it to keep it from burning at the bottom. It will not take more than five minutes in cooking. Chopped parsley, shallot, or grated ham may be added.

* * * * *

THE SICK ROOM AND NURSERY.

FAINTING.--In cases of fainting, apply to the nostrils and temples some spirits of compound spirits of ammonia, and give a few drops in a wineglass of water inwardly.

* * * * *

LINSEED TEA.--Pour a quart of boiling water on one ounce of linseed, bruised, and half an ounce of sliced liquorice-root; let it stand in a covered vessel near the fire four or five hours; then strain.

* * * * *

CHILBLAIN LOTION.--Mix two ounces of sal-ammoniac with a pint of water.

* * * * *

TO MAKE BARLEY-WATER.--Well wash two ounces of pearl barley; boil it a few minutes in half a pint of water, which is to be thrown away; then add four pints of boiling water; keep it boiling till two only are left, and strain. A small quantity of lemon-juice may be added.

* * * * *

WORM POWDER.--Take of rhubarb and jalap, each fifteen grains, and mix with them four grains of calomel; take in honey.

* * * * *

THE NAUSEOUS TASTE OF MEDICINE PREVENTED.--By chewing aromatic substances, such as orange or lemon-peel, cloves or other spice, before taking medicine, little or no taste will be perceived. The mouth can also be thus prepared beforehand by a peppermint lozenge, or even a lump of sugar.

The Toilet.

ALMOND PASTE.--Half a pound of bitter almonds; two ounces of raisins, stoned and well pounded in a mortar till they become quite a paste. Add a small wineglassful of French brandy, and rather less than half a glass of fine sweet oil. Beat it well, and put it in a pot for use.

* * * * *

LAVENDER WATER.--One pint of the best rectified spirits of wine, one ounce of oil of lavender, one teaspoonful of ambergris, and half an ounce of bergamot.

* * * * *

FOR CHAPPED HANDS.--Mix a quarter of a pound of unsalted hog's lard, which has been washed in common and then rose-water, with the yolks of two new-laid eggs and a large spoonful of honey. Add as much fine oatmeal or almond-paste as will work it into a proper consistence, and rub in well before going to bed.

* * * * *

A GOOD DENTIFRICE is equal parts of powdered myrrh, chalk, and orris-root.

* * * * *

THE black spots on the face are occasioned by obstructions in the skin. Rubbing well with soap and flannel is better than the application of spirit. Pressing on the spots firmly with the spill of a watch-key will sometimes cause the black marks to come out. Friction will prevent their occurring, as they are occasioned by languid circulation and a want of frequent scrubbing. In such a state of the skin, frequent warm bathing would be beneficial.

* * * * *

MANAGEMENT OF THE FINGER NAILS.--According to European fashion, they should be of an oval figure, transparent, without specks or ridges of any kind; the semilunar fold, or white half-circle, should be fully developed, and the pellicle, or cuticle which forms the configuration around the root of the nails, thin and well defined, and, when properly arranged, should represent as nearly as possible the shape of a half-filbert. The proper management of the nails is to cut them of an oval shape, corresponding with the form of the fingers; they should not be allowed to grow too long, as it is difficult to keep them clean; nor too short, as it allows the ends of the fingers to become flattened and enlarged by being pressed upwards against the nails, and gives them a clumsy appearance. The epidermis, which forms the semicircle round the nail, and adheres to it, requires particular attention, as it is frequently dragged on with its growth, drawing the skin below the nail so tense as to cause it to crack and separate into what are called agnails. This is easily remedied by carefully separating the skin from the nail by a blunt, half-round instrument. Many persons are in the habit of continually cutting this pellicle, in consequence of which it becomes exceeding irregular, and often injurious to the growth of the nail. They also frequently pick under the nails with a pin, penknife, or the point of sharp scissors, with the intention of keeping them clean, by doing which they often loosen them, and occasion considerable injury. The nails should be cleansed with a brush not too hard; and the semicircular skin should not be cut away, but only loosened, without touching the quick, the fingers being afterwards dipped in tepid water, and the skin pushed back with a towel. This method, which should be practised daily, will keep the nails of a proper shape, prevent agnails, and the pellicles from thickening or becoming rugged. When the nails are naturally rugged or ill-formed, the longitudinal ridges or fibres should be scraped and rubbed with lemon, afterwards rinsed in water, and well dried with the towel; but if the nails are very thin, no benefit will be derived by scraping; on the contrary, it might cause them to split. If the nails grow more to one side than the other, they should be cut in such a manner as to make the point come as nearly as possible in the centre of the end of the finger.

Centre-Table Gossip.

COSTLY CHINA.

HAVING seen much of primitive districts ourselves, where "china" is known as crockery, and dinner sets are "dishes," we can tell how incredible it will seem to some of our more remote readers, when we tell them there is a single set in our city now on sale, at the price of two thousand dollars. The cost of a small farm swallowed up in one set of dinner dishes, liable to breakage, too--more liable than less precious ware. We quite agree with a favorite handmaid, to whom the advertisement was read--

"La, ma'am, I shouldn't like to have the washin' and handlin' of 'em."

Imagine the ease with which the possessor of this treasure would preside over his table, with his property at the mercy of careless or hurried waiting-men; his most elegant courtesies cut short by the imminent danger of a soup-tureen, valued at fifty dollars; the point of his choicest _bon mot_ lost by the capsizing of a gravy-boat. Better a dinner of herbs, from white stone ware, so far as equanimity is concerned.

As a work of art--for only a true artist could design these graceful shapes and trace the exquisite designs--the set cannot be too highly valued, and the owners of the palatial residences on Fifth Avenue, who have their billiard-rooms and bowling-saloons, their picture-galleries, and their stables grained in oak, might thank the good taste of the importer, who has placed such a gem within their reach. Rare china, in these luxurious days, is a fashion and a taste which our fashionable circles are just beginning to cultivate. Collecting it has long been a favorite pursuit abroad with those whose wealth would permit so expensive a hobby. What will be thought of a sale like this, which we copy from an English print?--

"The chief attraction of the sale at Bedford Lodge, the late residence of the Duchess of Bedford, was a collection of rare old Sèvres, Dresden, and other porcelain, and some magnificent specimens of the now almost obsolete Chelsea ware, together with a number of very fine old marqueterie cabinets. Among the more remarkable lots sold may be instanced a set of three small toilet-cases of rare old Chelsea ware (measuring only four or five inches square), mazarine blue ground, richly embellished in gold, with birds and flowers, which realized, after an active competition, two hundred guineas; a pair of fine old Chelsea china vase-shaped candelabras, painted in figures and flowers, on a turquoise ground, sold for seventy guineas; a pair of elegant small Sèvres vases, with handles, on white fluted pedestals, forty-nine guineas; a cabinet of turquoise Sèvres, consisting of plateau, a two-handled cup and saucer, and a sugar-bowl and cover, delicately painted, with cupids, camaien pink, fifty-five guineas; a superb Sèvres vase, with handles, lapis blue ground, richly decorated with gold, and painted with medallion portraits, in grisaille, and garlands of flowers. This beautiful vase, which stands about thirteen inches high, realized one hundred and fifty-six guineas; two Dresden vases, with handles of elegant form, and painted with flowers, forty guineas; a Palissey ware candelabra, for four lights, and supported by néreides and masks, sold for fourteen guineas; a sculptured hand, with a bunch of grapes, in statuary marble, realized seventeen guineas; a jewel casket, with ormolu enrichments and Sèvres plaques on each side, painted with landscape and figures of a female at a fountain, forty-two guineas; a fine jewel casket, composed of plaques of rare Oriental enamelled china painted, with ormolu, fifty-eight guineas; a superb Sèvres écuelle, with cupids and bouquets of flowers, delicately pencilled in camaien pink, seventeen guineas; two fine old Dresden verrières, richly gilt borders, and painted with birds, fifteen guineas; a large Dresden ink tray, of the finest period, with scroll borderings, nineteen guineas."

A CONSIDERATION.

"SERVANTS are such a trial!" is now the general complaint. Mrs. A. has five cooks in one winter; Mrs. B. changes her chambermaid every month; Mrs. C.'s nurse neglects the baby; and Mrs. D.'s waiter is impertinent to her mistress and cross to the children. To hear a knot of ladies discuss their respective domestic grievances, one would suppose that there was no honesty of purpose and little ability left among "those of our own household." And yet in the old times which we now look upon as dark ages, in the days of our youth, when we should have been learning better lessons than idleness and extravagance, servants grew old and gray-haired in the employment of one family.

It can not be all the fault of those in service. If those who complain the most would spend half the time wasted in talking over their trials, in gaining the interest, and enlightening the ignorance of their servants, half their lamentations would be spared. Many an indifferent cook might be made capable and grateful with a little instruction, and the impertinence and idling often come from a spirit fretted by accumulated task-work, that should have been arranged to a methodical routine.

There is a good lesson worth laying to heart in the memorable last words of Justice Talfourd, the wise jurist and elegant poet. It will be remembered that he died the past spring, in the discharge of his judicial duties, in the midst of an appeal from the bench for sympathy with those we employ:--

"I am afraid we all keep too much aloof from those beneath us, and whom we encourage to look upon us with suspicion and dislike. Even to our servants, we think perhaps that we fulfil our duty when we perform our contract with them; when we pay them their wages and treat them with the civility consistent with our habits and feelings; when we curb our temper and use no violent expressions towards them. But how painful is the thought that there are men and women growing up around us, ministering to our comforts and necessities, continually inmates of our dwellings, with whose affections and natures we are as much unacquainted as if they were the inhabitants of some other sphere. This feeling, arising from that kind of reserve peculiar to the English character, does, I think, greatly tend to prevent that reciprocation of kind words and gentle affections, gracious admonitions and kind inquiries, which often, more than any book education, tend to the culture of the affections of the heart, refinement and elevation of the character of those to whom they are addressed."

EVERY LADY HER OWN DRESSMAKER.

A NICE time we should have of it, in the spring and fall, if some ingenious "Singer" would invent a machine that would cut and fit our own and our children's dresses. With the aid of Godey's "How to Make a Dress," the agony of weeks would be over in a few days, and wardrobes and closets have their full supply of dresses, jackets, and aprons. In the absence of this useful domestic aid, several parties have done their best to simplify the process of measuring and fitting that every one dreads to go through with, whether they stand up to it themselves or exhaust entreaties and commands to make the younger members of the flock "keep still" under the trying ordeal of pins and scissors.

Among the best of these methods, the simplest and most expeditious that we have seen are the dress charts of Madame Demorest, to whose establishment we have made frequent allusion, for ladies and children. Three measures only are taken, the pencil, chart, and paper put in requisition, and the thing is done. Madame D. evidently "keeps a poet," from the verses which we find on the back of her circular. Listen to "the consummation devoutly to be wished for" by all who dread fall and spring dressmaking:--

"Dressmakers made artists by this magical chart, All flee from the old tedious and wearisome art; A pleasure succeeds to what once was a task, As they fashion the jacket, the bodice, and basque. Each lady with skill now may cut her own dresses, When she once the Excelsior Dress Model possesses; Of good taste and model she only asks aid, And a beautiful garment is speedily made.

"While sitting content in her snug sewing-chair, We see the fond mother the dresses prepare. She calls up her children and fits them so neatly By the children's dress chart that has charmed her completely."

Even the old lady "that lived in a shoe" would find her way out of the difficulties in which she is historically enveloped, by the aid of this magic chart, if it effects half that is promised for it.

ORNAMENTS.

AS many of our lady readers know, there is generally a rage for some one stone, or style of setting, in jewelry. We do not speak of costly sets, as pearl or diamonds, but of those accessible to ordinary purchasers.

The topaz had its day, and was succeeded by turquoise; for a time every one, without regard to complexion, wore brooch and ear-rings of cerulean blue. Then garnets; then enamel of blue or green; and now, with a proper mixture of pearl, garnet and enamel, turquoise being entirely out of date, coral ornaments seem to be the favorites.

We mentioned, in a late number, the costly sets found at Ball & Black's, imitating flowers and fruit. When last coral was in vogue, the carvings were more in the style of cameo cuttings, as figures, heads, etc., in medallion, and of the dark red hue generally seen in the necklaces of infants. White and rose color are now the favorite shades. There are many new designs in setting; a branch highly polished, for instance, encircled in coils of gold; a single blossom or fruit, as a pear or a fuchsia, set in the same way, and forming the centre of the pin, or the drop of the ear-ring. A very pretty brooch--we speak now of simple ornaments--in this style costs from seven to twelve dollars.

Garnets are sometimes set on a glowing red or crimson ground, which gives them a singular flashing, vivid color. One of the favorite designs is in imitation of the section of a branch or stem of a tree, encrusted with gold and garnets. These are, of course, large and showy brooches. We have seen a few encrusted with turquoise in the same style. Enamelled ornaments are still worn, but are not so much the rage as for a few years past. For mourning brooches, see the fashion article of the present month.

Pearls are still in high favor with those whose purses and whose complexions can afford them.

THE NURSERY-BASKET.

IT is as well to mention in our chat the reason of the unavoidable delay of the promised volume on nursery matters, announced some three months since. Its design and scope were altered when the illustrations and much of the text were prepared, which has delayed its appearance. It is, however, now nearly ready, and will be forwarded as early as possible to the numerous subscribers who have sent us their orders. They will scarcely regret the delay, when the volume in its present form reaches them. If, however, there are any who are tired of waiting "for the play to commence," they can have the price of tickets refunded at the office--or, to speak plainly, we will willingly return any moneys received in advance, if any desire it, by sending post-office stamps to the amount. However, our readers need not fear that their claims will be forgotten as soon as the book is ready. It will be found simple, practical, and reliable in its various directions for the preparation of an infant's wardrobe, short clothes, flannels, etc. etc.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

WOOD-CUTTING is not so difficult as our correspondent, "L.," seems to imagine, and seems to us especially adapted to be an employment for females. It has been taught successfully in the Philadelphia School of Design. She is right in thinking it the first established. A history of its commencement and progress has been already given in the "Lady's Book." The designs for wood-cutting are drawn on the block, usually of pear-tree wood, made as smooth as satin letter-paper. The designer is not always, or often the engraver.

"A BOARDER" will find it very convenient to make chintz covers to her trunks, if she has no place to pack them. They are very simple, and effectually disguise travelling boxes, transforming them to ottomans and lounges. She has only to purchase furniture chintz at twelve and a half cents a yard, fit a piece to the top of the trunk, and run a plain flounce the height of the sides around it. This will leave one end seam to be closed. A binding of worsted or cotton braid, some neat dark color, gives a finish to the chintz, and is run on the top seam around the trunk, and down the four corners. This gives it still more the appearance of an ottoman or lounge, as their covers are made in the same way. Many housekeepers have boxes made in this way, to contain silver or bed linen, where closet room is needed.

"MRS. N.," of Rose Hill, Ga.--A lambrequin is the fall or top piece of a curtain; see any of Carryl's advertisements in the "Lady's Book." It is generally of a heavy material, as damask, satin laine, etc., finished with gimp, or cords and tassels. In a summer country house, where heavy curtains are not needed, a lambrequin depending from the cornice gives a finish to lace or muslin draperies. We should advise her to order them.

"MRS. GEO. P."--The appearance of the gum probably was the result of injury from a hard substance, an ivory or wooden plaything, possibly. Some children do not get any teeth before they are a year old, though six months is usually looked upon as the commencement of dentition. In selecting a baby's toys, it is necessary to see that they are not hard enough to hurt the mouth, or rough, so as to scratch and inflame it, as a child naturally tries to bite everything it can lay hands on. Common cheap toys are objectionable, as the paint comes off on the mouth and face. A plain ring of bone or ivory, tied by a broad string of tape or ribbon to a child's waist, will amuse it for hours, and is perfectly safe. Knit dolls are excellent, and the old style "rag baby" is worth a dozen of wax or composition. If a child has a plaything that will be likely to scratch its mouth or put out its eyes, it should be held by the nurse or mother, and never trusted to its powerless little hands.

"THE READING CIRCLE OF E., PA.," will find "Markland," by the author of "Margaret Maitland," and the "Memoir of Mrs. Ware," added to their list. We think the plan an excellent one; and, as the books are to be taken in turn when read through, do not see how any ill feeling can grow out of it. We should advise them to take "Household Words," if they can afford but one English magazine.

"MRS. S."--Flannel will not answer the purpose. A half handkerchief of oiled silk, bound with ribbon or flannel binding. Nursery aprons of gingham or chintz, with an oil-silk lining, are much used.

"A. L. S."--For grafting, we have seen the following highly recommended in a paper read before a State agricultural society: Two-thirds resin to one of common beeswax. It will not melt or run.

"A YOUNG AUTHOR" has need of "good courage." In presenting his MSS. to a publisher, send it by express or post, _prepaid_, with a plain, sensible letter on the subject of the book, and leave it to him or his editor to praise it. Never say "that a partial friend, or friends, advise its publication." If you wish it done, you need offer no excuse; if not, keep it to yourself. Do not expect to make a fortune on your first venture. If you can have it printed free of expense, it is all you ought reasonably to expect. Many are glad to do this. Remember that poems rarely pay for print and binding at the present time, and no young writer can be a finished and original essayist. The essay, above all other forms of composition, needs purity of style, original thought, acute observation, and wide experience.

"MRS. K.," of White Plains.--We would recommend "Kane's Arctic Expedition," and "St. Herndon's Valley of the Amazon;" they are the most popular recent books of travel, and suitable for family reading.

"ALICE" will find we have attended to her request. Cambric sets are still fashionable.

Fashions.

NOTICE TO LADY SUBSCRIBERS.

Having had frequent applications for the purchase of jewelry, millinery, etc., by ladies living at a distance, _the Editress of the Fashion Department_ will hereafter execute commissions for any who may desire it, with the charge of a small percentage for the time and research required. Bridal wardrobes, spring and autumn bonnets, dresses, jewelry, bridal cards, cake-boxes, envelopes, etc. etc., will be chosen with a view to economy, as well as taste; and boxes or packages forwarded by express to any part of the country. For the last, distinct directions must be given.

_Orders, accompanied by checks for the proposed expenditure, to be addressed to the care of L. A. Godey, Esq., who will be responsible for the amount, and the early execution of commissions._

_No order will be attended to unless the money is first received._

Instructions to be as minute as is possible, accompanied by a note of the height, complexion, and general style of the person, on which _much depends_ in choice. Dress goods from Levy's or Stewart's; cloaks, mantillas, or talmas, from Brodie's, 51 Canal Street, New York; bonnets from Miss Wharton's; jewelry from Bailey's or Warden's, Philadelphia, or Tiffany's, New York, if requested.

DESCRIPTION OF FASHIONS FOR JUNE.

_Fig. 1st._--Walking-dress of green taffeta, a skirt and basque. The skirt is made on a band, very full, long, and plain. The basque is close, and much sloped at the hip. It will be noticed that it is very long, approaching the size of the velvet street basques worn last summer. Sleeves demi-long, and flowing, finished with three ruffles, pinked. Large collar of cambric embroidery. Bonnet of drawn taffeta, the same shade as the dress, a light plume at the right. A simple full cap of blonde inside the brim. Rich scarf, oriental style.

_Fig. 2d._--A graceful and serviceable riding-dress, one of the best styles we have had for several seasons, being at once suited to the road and becoming to the figure. The skirt is on a band, or under waist, the ordinary fulness and length. The jacket, with its coat sleeves and rolling collar, fits the figure easily, and rounds over the hips into a short basque. A buff chemisette, in the fashion of a close vest, finished by upright linen collar and small flat necktie. Beaver hat and plume, the crown rather higher than has been worn of late. The material may be either habit cloth, cashmere, or merino. Habit cloth, being heavier, seems more serviceable for the road, and keeps in place better.

CHITCHAT UPON NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA FASHIONS FOR JUNE.

This is the favorite month in the year for the display of light and airy styles in our Atlantic cities, the few who have gone to their country houses in advance of the season being replaced by the arrival of Southern and Western belles, refitting at Stewart's, Levy's, Lawson's, Miss Wharton's, and every other fashionable establishment, for the summer campaign at Saratoga and Newport. Every resident has her favorite spring walking-dress, in which to pay her last round of calls, when she leaves her P. P. C., and is "not at home," until autumn comes again, to her dear five hundred friends.

These street dresses are mostly silks, varying from the rich dark poplins and _moir antique_ to the lighter _glacé_ stripes and plaids, or the India foulards, with their close glossy folds. The heavier silks are usually entirely plain in the skirt; even _poult de soie_, the heavy plain-colored silk that comes next to a poplin in richness of effect, has usually only a deep hem at the bottom of the skirt. The basques and sleeves have all the novelties of style and decoration. For these there are new galloons and ribbons appearing daily, matching the silks in shade, or used as a contrast, as taste may dictate. Velvet uncut, plain, and embossed; _moir antique_, richly watered; brocaded and embroidered ribbons, varying from one to three inches in width, are used for these heavier stuffs, which are now nearly out of season.

The lighter silks are in stripes and plaids of infinite variety. Green and violet seem to be the favorite shades. These are made with flounces, usually three, nearly the same width, the top one measuring the same from the top of the skirt. Fringe in alternate stripes, to correspond with the silk, is used where much trimming is desired on the edge of these flounces, or they may be simply bound or pinked. Pinking is used more than of late, and, in every establishment where it is done, there are a great variety of patterns, many of them elaborate. We have seen a very tasteful walking-dress, of violet and white plaid--a "quadrilled" silk, the manufacturer calls it--made with three flounces as above, the basque trimmed with fringe (alternate white and violet, instead of being mixed, as was the style) three inches deep. This was, in turn, headed by violet satin ribbon an inch wide, box-plaited on, and continuing around the front of the corsage. The sleeves were flowing, with three rows of fringe much narrower, but exactly corresponding, also headed by the plaiting, and fastened on the inside by a knot of rich brocaded ribbon with flowing ends. This, of course, had an exceedingly elegant effect, and could only be worn by a tall, full figure. We describe it to show how elaborate and costly the trimming of dresses are made the present season, while the materials, silks, tissues, _barèges_, etc., remain much the same as the past year. Box-plaited ribbons, whether plain, pearl-edged satin, brocaded, or plaided, are much used. It is usual to allow twice and a half the desired length of the trimming in purchasing them. Bows of broader and more expensive ribbon are still used for the sleeves and front of the corsage.

For thin materials, as _barège_, tissues, etc., in all the fanciful names by which they are called, most of which are manufactured by the importers' clerks, there is every variety of trimming in the shape of gauze ribbons. They have usually a coarse thread in the plain edge, by which they can be drawn up into quillings, ruches, and even box-plaitings. So many yards are used in a full trimming, and it is so expensive, never less, and usually more than a quarter of a dollar a yard, that the trimming and making often cost as much, and even more than the original material.

No city dressmaker, with any pretence to a good style, will undertake to make a dress for less than three dollars. In the really fashionable shops, $4 75 is the charge for making a basque waist, apart from the skirt--silk, buttons, all trimmings charged separately in the bill; so that you have from seven to nine, and even fifteen dollars, to add to the cost of your two yards and a half of silk, the quantity usually purchased for a basque.

We have seen no more tasteful bonnets at any establishment than at Genin's bazaar, which, as most of our readers know, has been elegantly fitted up, and so arranged as to be nearly double the original size, thus leaving plenty of room for a large millinery and dressmaking establishment, carrying out more fully the first design of Mr. Genin. The workwomen have two large and cheerful apartments assigned to them, and the show-room adjoining is always thronged. The nursery department has been removed to this more spacious suite, and the space below the dome is now filled by rows of industrious workers, with the silks and muslins they are manufacturing for the juveniles expressly.

Leghorn bonnets are still worn, though in July and August more dress hats of silk, crape, and lace will be seen. The Leghorns are in unusually good shapes, and trimmed very simply, either with straw, marabout plumes, or plain white ribbons. We speak of the prevailing styles; of course, many tastes are to be suited, and some people would flounce a _moir antique_ with the same, if they thought it would look more expensive, and for this class of community ribbons and garlands cannot be too profuse even on a Leghorn, which, if handsome, is generally considered, like a rich silk, to "have no need of ornament." There is a profusion of plain straws of every shape and cost. We notice that they come close, or nearly so, under the chin, and the whole bonnet is a gradual slope from the brim to the crown. They are trimmed in every variety of style, ruches of narrow ribbon box-plaited on, numerous flat bows of ribbon an inch in width disposed as a wreath, etc. etc. Ribbons, as a general thing, are much narrower than the past season, and those long scarf-like strings are not considered in good taste. We have before spoken of the profusion of trimming inside the brim. Blonde caps--a narrow edge of blonde usually sewn upon a broad or wash-blonde lace--are usually almost invariably used to soften the effect of the flowers and ribbon bows that encircle the face. The flowers used are of the most delicate description, made of crape, in strict imitation of nature. Flag flowers, convolvulus, lilac sprays, field violets, and all the more delicate blossoms, are exquisitely reproduced.

FASHION.

* * * * *

+-------------------------------------------------+ | TRANSCRIBER NOTES: | | | | P. 486. 'Novado' changed to 'Novada'. | | P. 501. 'toffe' changed to 'toffee' | | P. 506. 'com' changed to 'come'. | | P. 507. 'mocassin' changed to 'moccasin'. | | P. 561. 'nna' changed to 'Anna'. | | Fixed various punctuation. | +-------------------------------------------------+