b fittrarg c|trrlb. 
BOOKS AND BOOKISH PEOPLE. 
The Life of .ffnri/ Russell Milford.—V?e in¬ 
tend some timo to write at: essay on the inspira¬ 
tion of poverty. Could there be a much more 
fruitful theme? For poverty is wonderfully 
inspiring. Go through the list of writers who 
have made themselves famous, and note the il¬ 
lustrations of tlris fact. An empty purse moved 
a majority of them to tbclr work. Genius may 
exist; but genius often needs urging. What so 
effective as want? There is no mental stimulus 
equal to a physical need. In Mart Uusski.l 
Mrr ford's life we see all this forcibly depicted. 
Sbo put her soul into her work because there 
must bo soulful effort to accomplish a soulful 
purpose. Preferring to scrub, rather than write, 
she wrote because writing would pay better 
than scrubbing. Possibly not the highest mo¬ 
tive that could actuate one; yet in her case it 
rose as near philanthropy as genius ever gets. 
It was generosity beyond blame. 
It is of interest to ionic into the inner con¬ 
sciousness of any gifted nature. And by so 
much as such personal looking into is better than 
a dull description, by just so much arc the let¬ 
ters through which Miss Mitford portrays her 
own life better than any biography could be. 
They show us her mental Characteristics. Her 
processes of thought and work aro mirrored 
forth in them. Her opinions of contempora¬ 
neous authors are expressed freely, and with a 
charming frankness. What site was, as a writer 
and as a woman, is plainly depicted. 
Miss Mitford was a fascinating correspond¬ 
ent. Her opistlc3 are modelsofliveliness. They 
aro never dry and formal; each has Its interest, 
and is most happily phrased. Many ol' the 
letters in these two volumes, so handsomely 
brought out by the Harprks, nro addressed to 
her parents, and to Sir Wu.ma.u Euroito. Sir 
William was an old friend of her father’s, and 
a gentleman of much literary taste. To him 
she wrote with a freedom she could hardly have 
felt In addressing one younger than ho. Later, 
sbo wrote more frequently to IIaydon, the 
artist; to Miss Ba.hiu.tt, who became Mrs. 
Browning ; to a Miss Jkphhon and Mrs. Ho are. 
The fact that she know many literary people of 
eminence, that SCOTT, Moore, Coleridge, 
Byuon, Southey and Wordswortii were her 
contemporaries,—gives a peculiar interest to 
her correspondence. Her criticisms upon the 
writers named, and others, are sometimes hasty, 
yet always worth the leading, and generally 
valuable. All in all, her life was a rare one,and 
the telling of it can scarcely fall of a largo au¬ 
dience. 
Hedged in,— How shall wo deal with the 
fallen? is a question as old, almost, as our hu¬ 
manity. Christ answered It by saying to the 
haughty Jews,—"Let him that is without sin 
cast die first stone," and to the erring woman,— 
“ Go and sin no more.” But the vexed question 
has recurred again and again since, and the 
practical answer of society is a perpetual con¬ 
demnation. Tide new volume from t.iu> pen of 
ELIZABETH Stuart Phelps, and published by 
Fields, Osgood & Co., is an outgrowth of this 
painful fact. Kixr Trent sinned. Only six¬ 
teen,—little better than a child herself,—she 
went down into the pit, and there was none to 
help her out. Her experience.—fictitious only 
as given to a fictitious personugo, terribly real 
os thousands have felt to their cost,—is touch¬ 
ingly told by Miss Phelps. How the girl was 
" hedged in" from all good, wc aro made to sco 
with extreme vividness. I low helpful Christian¬ 
ity, not accusing, but full of sweet charity, took 
her iu and protected her, constitutes a plain, 
earnest, eloquent sermon. The whole story is a 
plea,—a strong, womanly pica,—for the erring. 
It is less than a novel, iu that it has no plot and 
few characters; it is more, far more, in that It is 
a cry In behalf of tho weak and the down-trod¬ 
den. Wo fear Ntxv’s upward life Is a tritlo too 
fairly sketched; but It is skotebed most effec¬ 
tively, and develops a rate dramatic power. 
.Indent SlaleH and Umpires. — A concise 
work on Ancient History is much needed in 
schools. In point of conciseness this volume by 
John Lord, LL. 1)., meots tho demand, and its 
general arrangement is Commendable; but its 
stylo is prosy oven beyond the necessities of his¬ 
tory, and its grammar is at times much at fault. 
Wc cannot, therefore, unqualifiedly recommend 
It to teachers, it is published by Scribner&06. 
»T Irs. JTerninghamts Journal ,— Some English 
writer, with not a little genuine poetic foiling 
and an adept in versillcutiou, has produced a 
novelette in verso bearing this title, and Scrib¬ 
ner, & Co. reprint it here 1 11 a dainty little vol¬ 
ume. It maybe read In an hour, and a pleas¬ 
anter hour’s reading it were hard to find. Its 
simplicity is exquisite, and its lights and shades 
of thought are most delicately rendered. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
Heading and JBlocution , (New York : Ivl- 
son, Phiuney, Blakeman & Co,)—The theoretical 
and practical In elocution are happily set forth 
in this excellent compilation by Anna T. Ran¬ 
dall. The theories are good, and the practical 
instructions are uncommonly sensible. In every 
respect the book seems to us a decided improve¬ 
ment on former works of the kind. Its selec¬ 
tions arc admirably made, being in the main 
fresh and of a high literary order. As a miscel¬ 
laneous collection of poems alone, the volume is 
well worth purchasing. 
The /lance of Modern Society. (New York; 
Oakley, Mason & Co.)—This pamphlet volume of 
seventy-seven pages is a clear, cogent argument 
against dancing, as that amusement is now pop¬ 
ularly practiced. Its author, W. C. Wilkinson, 
is an essayist of uncommon ability, and he gives 
to this effort, all hisenergies. Believing the mod¬ 
ern dance a grievous social evil, he arraigns It. as 
such, and brings forward charges which arc un¬ 
answerable. ft were worlh while for all to read 
liisfel icitoils yet pointed arraiginuen t,—especial¬ 
ly would we commend its perusal to such young 
ladies as pronounce “ divine ” those formsof tho 
dance which are now most fashionable, and 
which have been more truthfully thau elegantly 
termed “ hugging set to music,” 
Smithes Uible Slid ionary. — The Bible Dic¬ 
tionary by Dr. William Smith, as originally 
brought out in England, was unquestionably 
the best work of the kind ever issued. As being 
issued in this country by Messrs. Hurd & 
Houghton, in monthly parts, under the editor¬ 
ship of Rev. Dr. Hackktt, it is greatly im¬ 
proved. Not only is it unabridged; it is added 
to very largely. While tho labors of nearly 
seventy English scholars are preserved intact, 
they aro supplemented by numerous articles 
from a largo number of tho ablest Biblical 
scholars in America, carefully revised by Prof. 
IlACKErrnnd bis co-operator, Dr. Abbott. Thus 
perfected, the work is indispensable to every 
Gospel minister, and should Hud a place iu every 
library in the coun¬ 
try. Part XXIY. is 
now reached in the 
conrseof publication, 
closing with the word 
Ream i. Seven or eight 
more parts will prob¬ 
ably complete the 
work. Iu point of 
paper, print and illus¬ 
trations it is unex¬ 
celled—indeed its me¬ 
chanical excellence is 
only sceond to its lit- \ A v 
erary completeness. 
iingraplpcal. 
ANSON BURLINGAME. 
America has seen many stalwart lives, 
grown from the smallest and least promising 
of beginnings. Of than all, that of Anson 
Wonder Stories 
Told for Children, 
(Now York: Hurd & 
Houghton.)— What a 
rare storehouse is 
this for tho young to 
draw from! Sixty of 
II ans On risti A n An¬ 
dersen’s stories, — 
such a volume is in¬ 
deed a treasure for 
youthful readers. It 
is the latest issue of 
the complete edition 
of Andersen's works 
that Hurd & Hough¬ 
ton are publishing, 
and It is gotten up in 
that exquisite taste 
characteristic of pre¬ 
vious issues. Fine 
paper, clear print, 
good ilbist ml ions and 
attractive binding — 
these commend the 
hook to the eye: 
the stories tb omselves 
need no commenda¬ 
tion. 
Jf grtcutt urnl .hint- : (TTlIU )rP tPuPiY; 
y*ls—Qualitative and ’ 
Quant dative, Chemical. 
(Now York : Orange 
Judd Co.) — Tho 
analyses given in '' \ v 
this very useful vol- ' 
ume aro after Wolff, 
Fresenius, Krock- * V'jyu*’ 
er, and others, edited 
by G. C. Caldwell, T?TTI 
Professor of Agricul¬ 
tural chemistry in the Cornell University. Only 
such substances as are found in soils, plants, 
animals, fertilizers and materials or products 
akin, are referred to in the processes described. 
Tho work appears well adapted to the use of 
agricultural students. 
Communion U'tne and Itihle Temperance, 
This essay by Rev. Wtr.r.i am M. Thayer is a re¬ 
view of an article by Dr. Titos. Laurie which 
appeared in the Bibliotheca Sacra of January, 
1800, ami which al traded much attention. Dr. 
L \uni e argued that the use of fermented wine 
is sanctioned by the Bible: Mr, Thayers brings 
able testimony to the contrary, and, wo think, 
fully sustains his case. Mis little work shows 
wide research. It is published by tho National 
Temperance Society of New York city. 
Health A// Cloud Living, — Dr. W. W. Halt, is 
well known ns a writer oil Hygiene. This new 
volume from his pen, published by IIiniD & 
llouoriTON, is si plain treatise on the subject 
given In its title. There Is considerable redun¬ 
dant matter in it, but much that is sensible; and 
It will repay careful perusal. 
Temperance Anecdote*. iNew York: Nation- 
al Temperance Society.) — Many original and 
selected anecdotes are here given by George W. 
Bungay. They illustrate all phases of intem¬ 
perance, and mny servo a purpose iu soino in- 
Btnuoosus well as a sermon. 
Only Herself. (New York: Harper & Broth¬ 
ers.)— Annie Thomas is favorably known us the 
author of numerous novels of a lighter order. 
Her latest, No. 333 of the select scries, as here is¬ 
sued, is characterized by her usual pleasantness 
of style. 
Jjatva it fi rt Uy-K awe of American Society, 
(New York: Dick & I’'ltzgerald.)— Etiquette and 
its usages in America are here treated of by 8. 
A. Frost. Tho volume is one of the publishers' 
cheap Issues. 
Uvgene Cooper. (Boston: Henry Hoyt.)— 
Run-away boys do not always come to tho 
noblest manhood; but Eugene Cooper was it 
worthy exception, as portrayed here. His story 
is touching, and full of interest. 
Under foot. (New York: Harper & Brothers) 
—This, by Alton Clyde, an author little known, 
Is No. 335 of the “ Library of Select Novels.” 
- 
MUSICAL LITERATURE. 
Silver Spray Is a sweetly melodious theme, 
with variations, by Ella F. Locke, and put>- 
lished by Oliver Ditson & Co., Boston. The 
sarnepublishers alBO send us "Captivity,” and 
"The Owl,”—two artistic songs,—and Strauss' 
“ Marriage Bells Waltz," and a Fuiituisie, by Le- 
PEBURE W ely, the celebrated French organist, 
lately deceased, entitled " Titan iu.” 
Sabbath Songs for ChildrenWorship , is 
the latest volume of its kind, and scorns to us to 
bo one of the best. It is by Leonard Mar¬ 
shall, J. C. Proctor, and Samuel Burnham,— 
Lee & Shepard, Boston, publishers. Besides a 
good collection of new songs, it has a judicious 
compilation of old ones, and “Suggestive Exer¬ 
cises for Sunday-School Concerts.” 
Hitchcock »* .A><o Monthly Magatine for 
March (Benj. W. Hitchcock, publisher) is, like 
the precedi tig numbers, very excellent in matter 
and manner. It is the handsomest musical peri¬ 
odical published. 
Music for the Million.— Several or the latest 
I issues of Hitchcock’s cheap music, vocal and 
instrumental, are before us. One of the best is 
a song by Millard, entitled “The Wolf at the 
Door.” This “Dime Series” is so meritorious 
that it hardly needs our further recommenda¬ 
tion. 
TITTr! J.zVTH; ANSON BTJRJjINGv/^ACffi. 
Burlingame stands outmost unique in Us 
distinctiveness. It was personified romance. 
Seen in its completed whole, what a broad 
range of experience It coders! Its realized 
possibilities were marvels, and over them a 
world may well wonder. 
The son of a poor local preacher, what 
was lie*, as a boy, more than other hoys? 
How many who knew the lad Anson, in the 
little village of New Berlin, N. Y,, or a while 
later, in Detroit, Mich., would have dared 
prophesy for him a future more notable than 
the after-life of youth in general? He was 
a bright, active boy, the counterpart of thou¬ 
sands. Not over-fond of study or of work, 
he would take the years easily, it seemed, 
and push on to nothing of unusual moment. 
His only characteristic, if wc may rely on 
current statements, was a love of debate. 
Tallying came naturally to him. He used 
words fluently, even in early boyhood. And 
thus ho canto to be a ready, graceful speaker, 
in a by-and-by bearing better fruit, than any 
would have ventured to look for. and audi¬ 
ences sat as if spell-bound under hi* eloquent 
periods. 
But between the unpromising boyhood 
and the unlooked-for richness of manhood 
there was—what? A youth self-reliant aud 
fearless, spent, where self-reliance and fear¬ 
lessness counted for much, yet a youth in no 
Aviso uncommon. > 11111 }' and many a young 
man has carried ids rifle In the for Western 
wilderness as did young Burlingame, scout¬ 
ing among the savages, or bearing a survey¬ 
or’s chain, whom the world will never hear 
of. That he would come out prominently 
before his country not a decade thereafter, 
was even then only possible. That, lie would 
appear before kings and emperors as a repre¬ 
sentative of the oldest, living nationality did 
not, in all human probability, enter into his 
wildest dreams. 
At school and college, subsequently, he 
was distinguished only for ids readiness in 
debate, and a happy faculty of acquiring 
language. Both these mental traits were to 
serve him in good stead ere long. As yet 
they foreshadowed nothing of especial im¬ 
port. Receiving his degree from Harvard 
University in 1846, and electing Boston as 
his home and the law as his profession, h© 
began Ids upward career. His fluency as a 
speaker tv as now his greatest help. It car¬ 
ried him on I ho stump, brought him before 
the people, and made Gov, Burctos Ids friend. 
A law partnership with the Governor’s son 
succeeded, ami a fortunate marriage with 
| the daughter of Isaac Ltvkkmokk, an old 
resident of Cambridge, fully established him. 
As State Senator in 1852, and member of 
tho State Constitutional Convention imme- 
j diately thereafter, lie became well known to 
the inhabitants of Massachusetts. Then lie 
was elected to Congress, and directly the 
1 whole country knew him. lie had accepted 
a challenge from Preston Brooks, of South 
Carolina, had named rifles as the weapon, 
aud his unheard-of (in a Northerner) warlike 
attitude was the theme of remark from 
Maine to California. That a New England 
Representative should acknowledge “ the 
code” was an astounding fact,-—a fact that 
shocked some worthy people, and, under ex¬ 
isting circumstances, pleased more. Buthedid 
not fight, — thanks 
to Mr. Brooks’ un¬ 
belief in the friend¬ 
liness of that region 
of country through 
which lie must pass 
to reach Canada, the 
chosen battle-field; 
for ho might have 
been shot, and a 
\ grand future all 
spoiled. He did not 
good fortune? If 
■v^ a so, it was the happy 
— tact of far-seeing, 
and the uncommon 
good fortune of com¬ 
prehending great 
National needs. It was something so nearly 
approaching to genuine statesmanship that 
it were difficult to distinguish between the 
two. lie saw Chiuashutoff from the nations 
afar, and he exerted himself to compass a 
more liberal international communication. 
With what result? Our recollection of his 
triumphal tour, ns Embassador to all the 
treaty-making Powers, answers the ques¬ 
tion. And this tour closed his life. Was 
there ever a more brilliant ending ? In Ins 
own country, surrounded by the strange 
companions who composed his retinue, he 
was received with all the honors due a 
country’s distinguished son, super-added to 
those due the Envoy of a Government opulent 
and powerful, and with a civilization dating 
far back iu the ages. At European courts 
lie was welcomed as a diplomatist and an. 
American,—welcomed as the minister of a 
new brotherhood reaching out from the sun¬ 
rise, .and generously world-wide. 
And so the poor boy finally sntwith the 
highest of the earth, hardly less honored 
than they. What a contrast between the 
commencement, and the close! The lesson— 
a lesson of possibilities,—is for youth every¬ 
where. There is no beginning so small that 
it may not grow to great things. There is 
no life so humble in its outset tiiat, it, may 
not flml glorious development. The dis¬ 
tance between Anson Burlingame an un¬ 
known lad in the wilds of the West, and 
Anson Burlingame Envoy Extraordinary, 
dead in the Russian capital and mourned by 
a world, while princes stand at his coffin’s 
side, is wide indeed; but it is a distance 
passed over, and distances not less great are 
possible to all. 
CHARACTERISTICS OF LUTHER. 
Froude, the historian, gives the following 
characteristics of Luther: 
Men of Luther’s stature are like the vio¬ 
lent forces of Nature herself—terrible when 
roused, and in repose, majestic and beauti¬ 
ful. Of vanity he had not a trace. “Do 
not call yourselves Lutherans,” he said; 
“ call yourselves Christians. Who and what 
is Luther? Has Luther been crucified for 
the world?” I mentioned his love of music. 
“Music,” he called “tho grandest and sweet¬ 
est gift of God to man. Satan hates music,” 
he said; “he knows how it drives the evil 
spirit out of us.” He was extremely interest¬ 
ed in all natural things. Before the science 
of botany was dreamt of, Luther had divined 
tin! principles of vegetable life. “ The prin¬ 
ciple of marriage runs through all creation,” 
I 10 said; “ and flowers as well as animals 
are male and female." A garden called out 
bursts of eloquence from him; beautiful, 
sometimes, as a finished piece of poetry. 
-♦>.*- 
What is not needed is dear at a farthing. 
BRINGING SHEAVES. 
BY ANNIE HERBERT. 
Eyes that oftentimes nro tearful, 
Looking for life’s meaning true. 
Hearts ub often faint and fearful 
For the good ye strive to do,— 
Thus an angel iu my dreaming 
Whispered for tho soul that grieves; 
“ Hands that fall to human seeming 
Oft bring home the richest sheaves.” 
Not alone the weak one sinneth 
Who has fuitorod In the way, 
Not aloue tho strong man winneth 
In the radiant blase of day. 
God’s clear vision, searching slowly 
Flower and fruitage 'odd the leaves. 
Sees how oft His children lowly 
Uond beneath the richest sheaves. 
Waiting while the sunrise only 
Lights tho brows of reapers dead, 
Toiling through the sunsets lonely 
We may bUII bo comforted; 
mice the flower dittuMug sweetness 
When we crush Its tender leaves. 
So from pain we find completeness 
In the beauty of our sheaves. 
Ye whose earthly mission socmet.i 
But to sullur, uot to do, 
Love from stain and dross rcdcomoth 
Every life with purpose true, 
And the smile of Heaven lingers 
Longest round tho soul that grieves, 
While the frail and patient Angers 
Oft bring home the richest sheaves. 
Stones for llnralioto. 
% 
MR. LEACH’S LESSON. 
BY LETTJE ARTLEY IRONS. 
“ Here js the milk, Mflly.” 
Mr. Leacii placed the two shining tin 
pails, filled to the brim with snowy froth, on 
the kitchen table, and then proceeded to 
wash his hands and sent himself comfortably 
to read his newspaper. Ilia wife looked at 
the pails with a sigh, and continued her 
dish washing in silence. 
By-and-by the Inst dish was washed, wiped, 
and placed in its proper place on the pantry 
shelf, the milk strained and set away, the 
morning’s churning of butter re-worked and 
placed down cellar, tho potatoes pared for 
breakfast, the meat cut and in the spider, the 
two youngest children undressed and put to 
bed; and then Mrs. Leach drew a mammoth 
basket, filled to the brim with toeless stock¬ 
ings, torn dresses and aprons, little trousers 
out at the knee, and shirts minus buttons, to 
her side, aud sat down to an evening’s work 
of mending. For half an hour she sat there 
bent over her work, her tired fingers pushing 
the shining needle in and out, and weaving a 
miracle of intricate net-work in the gaping 
toe of her husband's sock, and then Mr. 
Leach dropped his paper and leaned back, 
evidently ready for conversation. 
“ Sumner’s. speech, on the Alabama claims, 
is a master-piece,” he remarked, elevating 
In's feet to the stove hearth aud tipping his 
chair back. 
Mrs. Leach made no reply. She hadn’t 
read Mr. Sumner’s master-piece, knew noth¬ 
ing about it, and felt at that moment as if 
she cared less. Mr. Leach waited a mo¬ 
ment, and receiving no indications Of a com¬ 
munication on the part of his wife, struck 
out on another track. 
“ I saw Brown, to-day. He starts for San 
Francisco to-morrow.” 
Still Mrs. Leach was silent. The knowl¬ 
edge that Brown was about to go to San 
Francisco didn’t ease her aching back a 
particle. 
Mr. Leach made several other remarks, 
eliciting only monosyllabic replies, and then 
looked at his wife as if lie was beginning to 
have remote suspicions that there was some¬ 
thing ailed her. 
“ What is the matter with you, Mildred ?” 
“Nothing,” replied his wife, “only 1 am 
tired and discouraged.” 
“Discouraged,” repeated Mr. Leach, in 
surprise, “ what about?” 
“ Everything,” was tho unqualified re¬ 
joinder. 
Mr. Leach elevated his feet to the edge of 
the stove top and tilted his chair till it rested 
against the wall. 
“Nonsense, Milly! we are getting along 
famously. The cows are doing extra well 
this season, and the crops look splendidly— 
never had better.” 
“ It is not that,” said Mrs. Leacii ; “ it is 
the work. I am harrassed almost to death 
with it. There is so much to do, and—” 
“ My dear,” interrupted Mr. Leach, with 
a majestic wave of the hand,” you shouldn’t 
let SUCh trifles worry you. It docs no good, 
and is really quite useless.” 
“ Trifles, John ? If you were in my place 
you would know they are not trifles. I have 
to work very hard, and—” 
“ Hard t” ejaculated Mr. Leacii. “ A 
woman’s work is not near so hard as a man’s. 
It is light work.” 
“ Very,” said Mrs. Leach, sarcastically. 
“ I think you would find it so, should you 
try it.” 
“ Now, Milly,” began Mr. Leacii, “ you 
know it is harder work to chop wood or 
plow than to cook and wash dishes. Now 
look at it. To-day I have hoed corn, and 
