Robert LouisStevenson Formally Adopted Into the Family of Paaaeua. THE CEREMONY IN DETAIL Bow the Jealousy of Kival Rirfers Made Itself Apparent. MOIFD AND THE PHOTOGRAPHS. Family Belatlocships and How Women Manage Tiro Husbands. A SESTIMEST TOWARD MRS. STEYENSON tWBITTIN FOB THE DISPATCH. Letter No. 7. It had chanced, as the Casco beat through the Bordelais Straits for Taahauku, she ap proached on one board very near the land in the opposite isle of Tauata where houses were to be seen in a grove of tall cocoa palms. Brother Michael pointed out the spot. "I am at home now," said he. "I be lieve X have a large share in these cocoa nuts; and in that house madame, my mother, lives -with her two husbands!" "With two husbands?" somebody in quired. "C'est ma honte," replied the brother dryly. A word in passing on the two husbands. I conceive the brother to have expressed himself loosely. It seems com mon enough to find a native lady with two consorts; but these are not two husbands. The first is still the husband, the wife con tinues to be referred to by his name; and the position of the coadjutor, or pikio, although quite regular, appears undoubtedly subor dinate. We had opportunities to observe one household of the sort The riklo's Relations to the Husband. The pikio was recognized; appeared open ly along with the husband when the lady was thought to be insulted, ana the pair made common cause like brothers. At home the inequality was more apparent. The husband sat to receive and entertain visitors; the pikio was running the while to fetch cocoannts like a hired servant, and I remarked he was sent on these errands in preference even to the son. Plainly we have here no second husband; plainly we have the tolerateu lover. Only, in the Marquesas, instead ot carrying his lady's fan and mantle, he must turn his hand to do the husband's housework. The sight of Brother Michael's family estate led the conversation for some while upon the method ana consequence of arti ficial kinship. Oar curiosity became ex--tremely whetted; the brother offered to have the whole of us adopted, and some two days later we became accordingly th children ot Paaaeua, appointed chief ot Atuona. I was unable to be present at the ceremonv, which was primitively simple Ceremonies Incident to Adoption. The two, Mrs. Stevenson and Mr. Os bourne, along with Paaaena, his wife and an adopted child of theirs, son of a ship wrecked Austrian, sat down'to an excellent island meal, of. which the principal and the only necessary dish was pig. A concourse watched them through the apertures o! the SIKOI1TG house; but none, not even Brother Michael, might partake, for the meal was sacramental and either creative or declatoryot the new relationship. In Tahiti things are not so strictly or dered; when Ori and I "made brothers" both our families sat with us at table, yet only he and I, who had eaten with inten tion, were supposed to be affected by the ceremony. For the adoption of an infant I believe no formality to be required; the child is handed over by the natural par ents, and grows up to inherit the estates of the adoptive. Presents are doubtless ex changed, as at all junctures of island life, social or international; hut I never heard of any banquet the child's presence at the daily board perhaps sufficing. Modification of the Arabian Idea. We may find the rationale in the ancient Arabian idea that a enmmon diet makes a common blood, with its derivative axiom that "He is the f ither who give3 the child its morning draught" In the Marquesan practice, the sense would thus be evanescent; from the Tahitian, a mere survival, it will have entirely fled. An interesting parallel will probably occur to many of mv readers. What is" the nature of the obligation as sumed at such a festival? It will vary with the characiars of those engaged, and with the circumstances or the case. Thus it would be absurd to take too seriously our adoption at Atuona. On the part ot Paaaeua it was an affair of social ambition; when he agreed to receive us in bis family the man had not so much as seen us, and knew only that we were inestimably rich and traveled in a floating palace. We, upon our side, ate of his baked meats with no true animus affiliandi, but moved by the single sentiment of enriosity. The affair was formal anu a matter of parade, as when in Europe sovereigns call each other cousin. Yet, had we stayed at Atuona, Paaaena would have held himself bound to establish us upon his land, and to set apart young men for our service and trees for our sup port lie lias Foresworn the Sea. I have mentioned the Austrian. He sailed in one of two sister ships, which left tbe Clyde in coal, both rounded the Horn, and both, at several hundred miles of dis tance, though close on the same point of time, took nre at sea on the Pacific One was destroyed; the derelict iron frame of the second, after long, aimless cruising, was at length recovered, refitted, and hails to day from San Francjsco. A boat's crew from one of these disasters reached, after greatjiardships, tbe Isle of Hiva-oa. Some ot these men vowed they would never again confront the chances ot the sea; but alone of them all, tbe Austrian has been exactly true to his engagement, remains where hela'nded, and designs to die where he has lived. Now, with such a man, falling and tak ing root among islanders, the processes de- scribed may be compared to a gardener's graft. He passes bodily into the native stock; ceases wholly to be alien; has entered the commune of the blood, shares the pros perity and consideration of his new family, and is expected toimpart with the same generosity the fruits of his European skill ana Knowledge. Tiro Parties to Every Bargain. It is this implied engagement that so fre quently offends the ingrafted white. To snatch an immediate advantage to get (let us say) a station for his store he will play upon the native custom and become a son or a brother for the day, promising himself to cast down the ladder by which he shall have ascended, and repudiate the kinship so soon as it shall grow burdensome. And he finds there are two parties to the bargain. Perhaps his Polynesian relative is simple and conceived the blood bond literally, per haps he is shrewd and himself entered the covenant with a view to gain. And either way the store is ravaged, the honse littered with lazy natives; and the richer the man grows, the more numerous, the more idle, and the more affectionate he finds his native relatives. Most men thus circumstanced contrive to buy or brutally manage to en- lorce their independence; but many vege tate without hope, strangled by parasites. They Blade Very Respectable Parents. We had no cause to blush with Brother Michael. Our new parents were kind, gentle, well-mannered, and generous in MOIPU gifts; the wife was a most motherly woman, the hnsband a man who stood justly high with his employers. Enough has been said to show why Moipu should be deposed; and in Paaaeua the French had found a reputable substitute. He went always scrupulously dressed, and looked the picture of propriety, like a dark, handsome, stupid, and probably religious young man hot from a European funeral. In character he seemed the ideal of what is known as the eood citizen. He wore gravity like an ornament None could more nicely represent the desired character as an appointed chief, the outpost of civili zation and reform. And yet were the French to go and native manners to revive, fancy beholds "him crowned with old men's beards and crowding with the first to a man eating festival. But I must not seem to be unjust to Paaaeua. His respectabilitv went deeper than the skin; his sense of the becom ing sometimes nerved him for unexpected rigors. Prisoners Daring a Festival. One evening Captain Otis and Mr. Os bourne were on shore in the village. All was agog, daaciag had -begun, it was plain it was to be a night of festival, and our ad venturers were overjoyed at their good for tune. A strong fall of rain drove them for GIELS. shelter to the house of Paaaeua, where they were made welcome, wiled into a chamber, and shut in. Presently the rain took off, the fun was to begin in earnest, and the young bloods of Atuona came round the house and called to my fellow travelers through the interstices of the wall. Late into the night the calls were contin ued and resumed, and sometimes mingled with taunts; late into the night the prison ers, tantalized by the noises of the festival, renewed their efforts to escape. But all was vain; right across the door lay that God-fearing householder, Paaaeua, feigning sleep; and mv friends had to forego their junketing. In this incident, so delightfully European, we thought we could detect three strands ot sentiment A BIO DANCING HOUSE. In the first place, Paaaeua had a charge ol souls; these were youne men, and he judged it right to withhold them from the primrose path. Secondly, he was a public character, and it was not fitting that his guests should countenance a festival of which he disapproved. So might some strict clergyman at home address a worldly visitor: "Go to the theater ir you like; but, by your leave, not lroni rav house!" Third ly, Paaaeua was a man, jealous, and with some cause (as shall be shown) for jeal ousy; and the feasters were the satellites of his immediate rival, Moipu. For the adoption had caused much ex citement in the village; it made tbe strangers popular. Paaaeua, in his difficult posture of appointed chief, drew strength and dig nity from their alliance, and only Moipu and his followers were malcontent For some reason nobody (except myself) appears to dislike Moipu. Captain Hart, who has been robbed and threatened by him; Father Orens, whom he has fired at and repeatedlv driven to the woods; my own family, and even tbe French officials all seemed smit with an irrepressible affection for the man. His fall had been made soft; his son, upon his death, was to succeed Paaaeua in the chieftancy; and he lived, at the time of our visit, in the shoreward part of the village in a good house, and with a strong following of young men, his late braves and pot-hunters. How Moipu Felt About It. In this society, the coming of the Casco, the adoption, the return feast on board, and the presents exchanged between the whites a"nd their new parents, were doubtless eagerly and bitterly canvassed. It was felt that a few years ago the honors would have gone elsewhere. In this unwonted business, in this reception of some hitherto undreamed of and outlandish potentate some Prester John or old Arsarachus a few years back it would have been the part of Moipu to play the hero and the host, and his young men would have accompanied and adorned the various celebrations as the acknowl edged leaders of society. And now, by a malign vicissitude of for tune, Moipu must sit in his house quite un observed; and his young men could but look in at the door the while tbeir rivals feasted. Perhaps M. Grevy felt a touch of bitterness toward his successor when he beheld him figure on the broad stage of the centenary of 89; the visit of the Casco which Moipu had missed by so few years was a more unusual occasion in Atuona than a centenary in France; and the dethroned chief determined to reassert himself in the public eye. Mr. Osbourne had gone into Atuona pho- POSING. tograpbing; the population of tbe village had gathered together for tbe occasion on the place before the church, and Paaaeua, highly delighted with this new appearance ot his family, played the master of cere monies The church had been taken, with its jolly architect before the door; the nuns with their pupils; sundry damsels in the ancient and singularly unbecoming robes of tapa; and Father Orens in the midst of a group of his parishioners. I know not what else "was in hand, when the photographer became aware of a sensa tion in the crowd, and, looking around, be held a very noble figure of a man appeal upon the margin of a thicket and stroll nonchalantly near. The nonchalance was visibly.afiected; it was plain he came there to arouse attention, and his success was instant He was introduced; he was civili he was oblig ing, he was always ineffably superior and cer tain of himself: a well-graced actor. It was presently suggested that he should appear in his war costume; he gracefully consented; and returned in that strange, inappropriate and ill omened array (wliicn very well became his handsome person) to stmt in a circle of ad mirers, and be thenceforth the center of pho tography. Faaaeua Assorted Ills Bights. Thus had Moipu effected his introduction, as by accident, to tbo white strangers, made it a favor to display his finery, and reduced his rival to a secondary role on tbe theater of the disputed village. Paaaeua felt the blow; and with a spirit which we never dreamed he could possess, asserted his priority. It was found im possible that dav to get a pbotagraph of Moipu alone; for whenever ho stood up before the camera his successor placed himself unbidden by his side, and gently bat firmly held bis posi tion. The portraits of tbe pair, Jacob and Esau, standing shoulder to shoulder, one in his careful European dress, one in his barbaric trappings figure tie past and present of their island. A graveyard with its -humble crosses would be tho aptest symbol of the future. We are all impressed with the belief that Moipu bad planned bis campaign from begin ning to end. It is said that be lost no time in pusiiiug bis advantage. Mr. Osbourne was in veigled to his bouse; various gifts wore fished out of an old sea chest; Father Orens was called into service as Interpreter, and Moipu formally prepared to "make brothers" with Mata-Qalahi-Ulass-Eyes the not very euphonious nam under wblch Mr. Osbourne passed in tbe Marquesas. The Rivals at the Feast The feast of brotherhood took place on board tbe Casco. Paaaeau bad arrived with his fam ily, like a plain man; and his presents, which had been numerous, had followed one another at Intervals tbrongh several days. Moipu, as if to mark at every point tbe opposition, came with a certain feudal pomp, attended by re tainer bearing gifts ot all descriptions, from plumes of old men's beard to little, pious Cath olic engravings. 1 had met the man before this in the village, and dotested him on sight; there was some thing indescribably raffish in his looks and ways that raised my gorge; and when man eating was referred to, and ho laughed a low, cruel langb, part boastful, part bashful, like one reminded of some dashing peccadillo, my repugnance was mingled ith nausea. And, seen, more privately, the man improved. I will complete this sketch ot an incurable cannibal grandee with two incongruous traits. His fa vorite morsel was the buman hand, of which bespeaks to-day with an ill-favored lustful ness. And when he said goodby to Mrs. Ste venson, holding her hand, viewing her with teartnl eyes, and chanting his farewell im provisation in the falsetto of Marqnesan high society, ho wrote npon her mind a sentimental impression which I try in vain to share. Robert Louis Stevenson. TWO HHITS FOE BH0KEB8. Bow to Carry Cigars and How to Smoke an Old Soldier. Albany Argus. A well-known tobacconist says: "If you are a smoker and don't own a cigar case on carry yourcigarsinyourupperyest pocket, the left, with the mouth end downward. The constant motion of your right arm is sure to crush the tobacco and loosen the wrapper, if tbe cigars be on the right side, and the re sult is more readily attained with the match end down. If ynu have to let a cigar go out and are not too fastidious to smoke an 'old soldier,' do not pull in the last puff, but blow it through the burning end. In this way the nicotine is expelled, which would otherwise gather at the month and prevents the cigar from haying a rank taste." The President Will Roll in Luxury on His Proposed Tonr. GOOD WHITE HOUSE TRAVELERS. George Washington Went in Style Liked Clean Horses. and HISTOKI OP POLK'S DOMINATION 1 COBHESrONEENCE OT TUB DISPATCH.I Washingtoh, April 4. The tour which President Harrison is said to be planning is the biggest and longest ever made by a President while in office. If it is taken at all it will include the biggest cities of the country and will be memorable as the first tour a President ever made to the northern part of the Pacific slope. President Harrison is a good traveler. He enjoys the changes of scenery and people, and he keeps himself alive to his surround ings. He is a ready ipeaker, and is very careful in his statements upon all occasions, so that there is little danger ot his hurting his party by imprudent utterances and ac tions. He has a good constitution, and the trip will be taken with all modern travel conveniences and the President will have time to rest between towns. Unfortunate Preiidental Tourists. If he comes out of the tour, however, un scathed, he will be much more successful than his predecessors Nearly all the Pres idents who have traveled have met with misfortune on their tours, and the most un pleasant things of their administrations .have happened at such times. Garfield was assassinated when he was starting out to travel to Long Branch. Tyler came very near being blown up on the Trenton, An drew Jackson had his nose pulled on a trip down the Potomac, and Andrew Johnson's famous "swing around the circle" aided materially in his defeat for renomination. President Arthur got sick during his tour to Florida, and one of the most bitter in sults offered to President Cleveland was the newspaper slander uttered concerning his wife and himself while he was visiting St. Paul. The custom of Presidental touring dates back to Washington. He had the most style about him of all the Presidents, and he rode about tbe country in a cream col ored chariot, drawn by four horses, and ac companied by postilions and outriders. He had a Regular Retinae of Followers, and tbe letters of the times show that many of his tours were taken for political reasons. He appreciated the value of style, and he was very careful as to bis equipage, He once whipped a stable boy because he did not clean his horses quite as well as he thought they ought to be cleaned, and he Qentrol Washington' i Coach. made his hostlers wash the teeth ot his horses and clean them with toothpicks daily. It was his test of a well groomed horse to rub him over with his fine pocket handker chief, and if a bit of dust came oil or the linen was" soiled in' ibeTeast the horse had to be gone oyer again. His first tour after he assumed the Presi dency, was a trip to .New England, which he took in connection with his private secretary, six servants and some noted men. His second tour was taken from Phila delphia in 1791. At this time he went to the South, and took a tour through the Southern States. He had a fine turnout as usual, and he had a saddle horse led with bis coach, in order that he might rest him self by riding on horseback when he got tired. Didn't Have Modern Luxuries. Washington carried a good supply of pro visions with him, but he had no idea of the luxuries of the colored porter who can mix a cocktail or get up a dish of terrapin on a half-hour's notice. President Harrison's car will be stocked with all the delicacies of the season. It will contain bedrooms and bathroom. It will probably have a library and a piano, and the touch of an electric button will bring the President anything he wants. Andrew Jackson was one of the leading Presidental tourists, and he was one of the best mixers among tbe Presidents. He was a good judge of human nature, and during his tour thousands of babies were presented for him to kiss. He was a kind-hearted man, and he did kiss a few hundreds of them, but he often relegated the duty to his Cabinet, who accompanied bin). Colonel A. K. Boteler, who was a member of the Congress of tbe United States before the war, was attending Princeton College when JacKson made one of these tours, and he ac companied the procession from Princeton to Trenton. A Very Sweet-Faced Baby. During the trip, so he tells me, 'while General Jackson and General Eaton were riding along in the carriage together, a lean, lank, hoinelv woman was seen rushing across tbe field with a baby in her arms. She beaded off the prcession and crawled through the fence just as Jackson and Baton came up. President Jackson stopped the carriage and spoke to her. She held up tbe baby an'd he noticed that it3 face was veil covered with molasses. He seized the child and then holding it out before him, said, ''Madam, you have a fine son here, and he may be President of the United States some day. He will doubtless do credit to you, and his face is a sweet one." He thereupon thrust him toward General Eaton, and said, "Here, Eaton, you kiss him," and this the Secretary of War did, making the woman smile with joy. Jackson had an old-fashioned family coach which had been presented to his wife about the time he built the Hermitage. It was very heavy, but be would not ride in any other. A part of this old coach was in the hands of a Southern planter some years ago, and one of the panels of the cream chariot which President Washington used is in the National Museum, It was painted by a celebrated Italian painter, and is a work of art Monroe's Visit to Pittsburg. . It was left to Monroe to make the second great Presidental tour. Monroe visited New York and New England, aud he had a series of ovations from the beginning to the close of his trip. He was well treated at New York, and he was the first President of tbe United States who visited Ehode Island. He met old John Adams at Boston and dined with him, and went up to Portland, Me., and then went as far West as Cleve land, and came back by way of Pittsburg. He traveled more than 3,000 miles in his carriage, and his tour was perhaps the most remarkable that a President ever made. A new statue is now being erected to Lafayette in Washington. It is just oppo site the White House, and it recalls the grand farewell tour which General Lafay ette made in this country. John Quincy Adams went-with him. He was, Secretary' of State at the time. The French Republi can was received with honor everywhere, and the country went wild over him. It was John Quincy Adams who was the first President to travel on a railroad, but his traveling was done after he left the Presi dency, and he was in a railroad accident in which two people were killed. President Harrison's grandfather, Will' iam Henry Harrison, tooE tbe Baltimore and Ohio Bailroad at Wheeling to come to Washington, but he rode from bis home to that point in a coach. He had a saddle horse withTiim, and he was so fond of horse back riding that when he went out to the Capitol to be inaugurated he refused to ride in a coaeh-and-four which had been pre pared for him, and rode on horseback. Tbe day was bitterly cold and he made his speech withont an overcoat, catching, it is said, at his inauguration, a cold which aided in causing his death a few weeks later. President Lincoln traveled 'somewhat while he was in the White House, bnt his life was too busv a one for the ordinary Presidental jnnket His first trip to Wash ington was made by the Michigan Southern and the New York Central. He was re ceived with great respect everywhere, except at Baltimore, where it was feared the South ern sympathizers would mob him, and through which city it is said he went dis guised. He had a special train, and he made his speeches from the baggage car. Andrew Johnson's tour was a speech mak ing one. He was under The Influence or Liquor during a part of it, and some of his utter ances were injudicious in the extreme. He went nominally to lay the corner stone of the Stephen A. Douglas monument at Chi cago, bnt he traveled all over the country to get there, talcing in New York, Philadel phia and Cleveland. He spoke everywhere, and hurt himself every time he spoee. President Hayes was a great traveler. He was a constant frequenter of Grand Army reunions, and his Southern policy made his Southern tour a very popular one. He was accompanied by leading Southerners, and he received a great deal of praise and taffy from tbe South. He did a great deal more traveling while in the White House than he has done since he left it It was different with General Grant. He traveled but little while President, going only now and then to Long Branch or New York. He started out on bis trip around the world, however, just after he left the White House, and no man has ever had such a tour as that of his around the world. All men all nations tried to do him honor. How Polk Was Nominated. James K. Polk did not do a great deal of traveling while in the White House. His nomination was a surprise to him and. to his friends. Colonel John Brownlow, a son ot the famous fighting parson, tells me there is a letter now in existence, written by Polk a few weeks before he was nominated at Balti more. In this letter Polk writes to An drew Jackson Donelson, endeavoring to get the support of "Old Hickory" to make him Vice President. After stating his qualifi cations for the place he closes as follows: "I hope tbe Tennessee delegation will exert its influence in my behalf as the candidate for Vice President This has been the ambi tion of my life. Four years ago I desired the nomination, but I gave way to others, and now I hope my friends will support me." "The Tennessee delegation," said Colonel Brownlow, "had no idea of making Polk their candidate for the Presidency, and their support of bim as Vice President was merely nominal. The convention, however, did not Know this. The friends of the other candidates were fighting hard, aud it was in one of the bitterest of tbe struggles that, merely to divert the attention of the conven tion, Major Donelson arose and nominated James K. Polk as a candidate for the Presi deney. Donelson was supposed to be the mouthpiece of "Old Hickory," and the in fluence of Andrew Jackson was such that this caused a stampede toward Polk and he was nominated. Why Jackson Didn't Like Polk. When Andrew Jackson heard of it he was not pleased. He had a contempt for Polk, because Folk would not fight a duel with Henry A. Wise when he pulled his nose during his stay in Washington as Speaker of the House of Bepresentatlves. "What did Poik say as to his nomina-tlon?'-M asked. - w - r&. "They tell a queer story concerning it in Tennessee," replied Colonel Brownlow. "The news 'was announced to him by his brother. William Polk, and James K. Polk would not believe it. William Polk was a much brighter man than James K. Polk. He was tbe Tom Corwin of Tennessee in his days, and was noted as a wag. He was ruined, however, by drinking, and it was a curious thing that drink made his face white rather than red. Well, William Polk was the'first man to get the news of James K. Polk's nomina tion. He beard it while his brother was trying a petty ten-dollar Justice of the Peace case in the town, and he came into tbe law yer's office and interrupted the trial, saying: "Jim, have you heard the news from Balti more?" The future President replied that he had not. "Well, Jim, the nominations are made, and I am blank blanked if yon are not nom inated for the Presidency." James K. Polk laughed, and so did the rest of the crowd. Tbey all thought it was one of Bill Polk's jokes, but they soon learned that it was truth. How Polk Was Killed. "President Polk was killed by anxiety and hard wort," Colonel Brownlow went on. "He was laid in his grave by the Mexican war, and and in some way he got the idea that the responsibility for that war rested upon him. He was conscience-stricken and felt himself responsible for the lives lost in it When he entered the White House he was young, straight, black-haired, and about SOyearsol age. When he came out, he was a stooped, wrinkled old man, whose hair was grey and whose step was feeble. He went back to Nashville, and he died a few months after he left the Presidency. "L often see it stated that Andy Johnson was a Presbyterian. The fact is he was an agnostic. I knew him very well, and ac cording to mv understanding, he was inside a church only three times while he was President of the United States. The first time was at the memorial services over Pres ident Lineoln in tbe Senate Chamber. The second time was at the funeral services of Colonel Elliot Dahlgren, and the third time when Henry Ward Beecher came to 'Wash ington. Beecber had come out in a sermon, and had supported 'My policy,' as John Bon's policy was called. Beecber had re ceived considerable criticism for this action. " Fkauk G. Cahpenteb. THE CBX0H0F0SM DBTJNFABD. He Runs the Risk of Death for What Gives No Pleasure. New York Morning Journal. The Chinaman, throwing himself on his bnnk, with pipe and lamp and shell of "dope," knows that visions of beautiful lands and comely maidens will soon be his. The hasheesh-eater knows, after one experi ence, that the green paste which he swal lows will fill him with a godlike sense of power, a feeling as though he could bear the earth on his shonlders. But chloroform gives no dreams, no visions, no mighty strength. It stupefies; that is all. The chloroform drunkard is a slave to his own morbidness and no more. The method of becoming drunk is simple in the extreme. The drunkard saturates a cloth or sponge with tbe ansesthetic He lies down near the edge of tbe bed or lounge. The arm and hand which holds the drug is braced in such a position that were it re laxed it would hang down beside the couch. As the subtle vapor begins its work, and unconsciousness steals upon him, the mus cles of his arm relax, his hand drops, and the sponge falls from his inert fingers to the floor. Thus he avoids the danger of death through an overdose of the poison. An official return states that the num ber of tobacco plantations in Russia last year was 007,682. as compared 618,535 In 1889, the area under cultivation being about 105,000 acres, as aeainst 90.000 in 1889. while the anantltv of tobaaco grown was about 115,000 tons, or about I 20,000 tons more than last year, -I What They Accomplished in Political and Social Life. THEIR POWER -FOE FREE TRADE. Mrs. Marcel's Conversations and Harriet Hartineau's Stories. THE LATTEE'S IDEAS OF SLATEEI rwnrriEN tob tzte dispatch, i Two women of England did very much more than the philosophers in making the subject of political economy popular in that country. In their books upon this subject Mrs. Marcet and Harriet Martineau pre sented tbe facts set forth by Adam Smith in his "Wealth of Nations" in such form of interest and simplicity that even the com mon people became well posted upon the great subject at least as regards protection and free trade. ' Mrs. Marcet was the author of two books that made her the teacher of hundreds or thousands of people. Her "Conversations on Chemistry," a work inspired by her hns band, a noted physician and chemist who had been driven out of his own country, Switzerland, for political mesdemeanors, became a textbook on the subject in Fog land, and also in America, where it held its own for over 30 years. Before the publio schools had been generally established in this country, and before it was freely ad mitted that girls needed any education to speak of, Mrs. Marcet'sbook passed through 160 editions. Was Not Credited to Her. That this work on chemistry was really written bv a woman was not believed, or perhaps the boys who were trained on it would not have been allowed to have laid their foundations of chemical knowledge by a study of the simple methods presented in its pages. Mrs. Marcet cot her share of scorn and ridicule from those to whom a woman with any pretensions to learning be came an object of distrust and dislike, bnt she received plenty of praise and apprecia tion as well from tbe men of science whose acquaintance she enjoyed. The declaration of independence made the year 1776 the most memorable in the history of the United States. The same year was distinguished by the publication ot tbe great work on political economy, which eventually brought about the commercial revolution which con verted England from the protection policy to that of free trade. Mrs. Marcet was but a child when Smith's great work was published, but she doubtless studied it for herself and formed her own opinions. At all events, when her mind was matured and her judgment assured, she published her "Conversations on Political Economy," containing much wisdom on the subject in such style as to suit ordinary readers. The book became immediately popular and was considered of vast value in promoting intelligence among the working classes of .England on the subject of taxation. "Every girl," says Macauley, "who has read Mrs. Marcet's 'Conversations on Politi cal Economy' could teach Montague anJ Walpole lessons on finance." Mrs. Marcet's little book did much to help in making free trade the policy of England, and as she lived to be 90, she doubtless had tbe satisfaction of seeing the progress made in England by the adoption ot the views she advocated. A Political Old Maid. Following in her footsteps a few years later came Harriet Martineau. a political old maid, who occupies a no small-place in the foreground of modern English history. Like Miss Willard and Miss Anthony, she had a natural taste for politics, and mani fested more interest in public affairs than did the ordinary women whose chief interest and pursuit was, as Shakespeare puts it, "to suckio ioois and chronicle small beer. A turn of mind for politics in a woman was much more remarkable a half a century ago than at present, and Harriet had, of course, a double burden of contempt and derision to bear from the stupid and bigoted of her time, in that she was not only an old maid, bnt was "strong-minded" as well. Took Hor Cue From Mrs. Marcet. Her mind was early directed to the sub ject of political economy by Mrs. Marcet's "conversations" on the subject, and she Con ceived the plan of writing a series of tales illustrating the need of reform in the poor laws, of justice in methods of taxation, and the virtue and morality of true political economy as contrasted with the evils of tbe false, then in vogue, '.these stories met with Immense favor and were large factors in the conversion of England to free trade. "Independent of their value as expositions of great principles," says a writer, "some of these talcs will always be read for their truthful pic tures of life, and the ingenious construction of a story limited by us special purpose." They were eagerly read, not only by tho working classes, but by all people. In the form of a story they reached readers who would not hare -looked twice at a political tract. England at that time was going through the same contro versy between protection and free trade that Is now carried on in tbe hammer and tongs fashion In this country and Harriet Martineau used her pen so powerfully that in recognition and appreciation of ber services aud tbe good she had done by spread ing the principles of free trade before the peo ple, she was tendered a pension by the British Government. This she aeclined, preferring to retain her independence as a political writer. Her Stand Against Slavery. The abolition of slavery found in her a oower ful advocate, and during the War of the .Re bellion some of the warmest and strongest arti cles in support of the North and the Union were written by this "strong minded old maid." In tbe stirring days when William Lloyd Garri son and the small band of abolitionists were mobbed and rotten-egged in Boston, Harriet Martineau visited this country. Her great reputation as a writer had preceded her, and she was received with warmest welcome and highest honor. She visited some of the palatial homes of the South, and enjoyed tbe hospitality of gome of Us most prominent people. When at last she reached Boston, she at tended a llttlo nrivate meeting of tho Woman's Anti-Slavery Society, which had tbe courage to get togetner on me very aiternoon tnat uarri son was mobbed. Miss Martineau was asked to speak and though she knew tbe cost, she bad the conrage of ber convictions and expressed her sympathy for the slave and her abhorrence of slavery. This turned public sentiment against ber. Every door hitherto open to her was bansred shut, and from baying been prai'ed and hon ored and sought after, she was abused,-vilifled and scorned as a black abolitionist, as a woman who had gone beyond tbe bounds of feminine modesty, as a dreadful and pestilent being who bad abused the hospitality or her entertainers by stepping upon the toes of their pet preju dice, and by refusing to indorse slavery as a vl.Hl. All tttlft .I.Mn. nJ ..II -hai.1 ttrr while it must have excited ber indignation, did not prevent her from doing justice to the many virtues of the American people in ber book on mis country on me supjecc oi slavery, auss Martineau lived to see tbe change in public sentiment and to rejoice in the emancipation Eroclamation that removed this blot from the iatory of the American Republic. Character of the Woman. Miss Martineau takes rank with the most eminent writers of her age and country. Her fame was won as a novelist, a historian, a philosopher and a reformer. She had a little sharpness of tongue in criticism, and was. it may be, somewbat egotistical. Thackeray was, she said, a "snob." N. P. Willis was a "lying dandy;'' "Alacaulay bad no heart," and tbe po litical party to which she was opposed was made up of a lot of "conceited Imbeciles." But such remarks, it must be admitted, are "mid dling mild," as compared with the cruel slash ings of tho Scotch reviewers. Miss Martineau lived a long and useful life. From being devoutly pious In her youth, she gave up her religious beliefs and oecame a materialist. This brought great censure from many orthodox people, but she evinced as much courage in the utterance ot her opin ions, as does Ingersoll to-day. She rejoiced in her later life, as sue. says, "to have escaped from the llttlo enclosure of dogma, and to stand free to learn." If she bad written noth ing else than tire "History of tbe Thirty Years War." or "Biographical Sketches" she would still be an honor to ber age and country. These stand as monnments to the Intellectual great- nMI nf A nfillrfl nM mail? " Bessie Shamble. A FANTASTIC TALE, INTRODUCING HYPNOTIC THEORIES. WBTTTEIT FOR THE BJ3FATCH BY F. MARION CRAWFORD, Author of "Mr. Isaacs," "Dr. Claudius," "A lioman Singer," and Many Other Stories That Have Taken Sank as Standard Idterature. CHAPTEE XVIII. N THIS, at least, there was therefore comfort. On the morrow she would see him again. Tbe moment of complete despair had passed when she received that assurance from his lips, and as she thought of it, sitting in the absolute still ness of her room, the proportions of the storm grew less, and possible dimensions of a future hope greater just as the seafarer, when his ship lies in the flat calm of the oily harbor, thinks half incredulously of the danger past, despises himself for tbe anxiety he felt, and vows that on the morrow he will face the waves again, though the winds GOOD SIGHT, blow ever so fiercely. In Unorna the master passion was as strong as ever. In a dim vision the wreck of her pride floated still io the stormy distance, but she tarned her eyes away, for it was no longer a part of her. The specter of her hamiliation rose up and tried to taunt her with her shame she al most smiled at the thought that she could still remember it. He lived, she lived, and he should yet be hers. She paced the corridor, passing and re passing beneath the light of the single lamp that hung in the middle, walking quickly, with a sensation of pleasure in the move ment and in the cold draught that fanned her cheek. Then she beard footsteps dis tinct from the echo of her own, and Bhe stood still. Two women were coming toward her through the gloom. She waited near her own door, supposing that they would pass her. As tbey came near she saw that one was a nun, habited in the plain gray robe and black and white head-dress of the order. The other was a lady dressed like herself, in black. The light bnrned so badly that as the two stopped and stood for a moment conversing together, Unorna could not clearly distinguish their faces. Then the lad entered one ot the rooms, tbe third or the fourth from unorna s, and the nun remained standing outside, apparently hesitating whether to tarn to the right or the left, or asking herself in which direc tion her occupations called her. Unorna made a movement, and at the sound of her foot the nun came toward her. "Sister Paull" Unorna exclaimed, recog nizing her as her lace came under the glare of the lamp, and holding out her hands. "Unornal" cried the nun, with an intona tion of surprise and pleasure. "I did not know that vou were here. What brings you back to us?" "A caprice, Sister Paul nothing but a caprice. I shall perhaps be gone to-morrow." "I am sorry," nnswered the Sister. "One night is but a short retreat from the world." She shook her head rather sadly. "Much may happen in a night," replied Unorna with a smile. "You used to tell me that the soul knew nothing of time. Have yon changed your mind? Come into my room and let us' talk. I have not forgotten vour hours. You can have nothing to do for tbe moment, unless it is supper tim." "We have just finished," said Sister Paul, entering readily enough. "The other lady who is staving here insisted upon sup ping in the guests' refectory out of curiosity, perhaps, poor thing and 1 met her on the stairs as she was coming up." 'Are she and I the only ones here?" Unorna asked carelessly. "Yes. There is no one else, and she only came this morning. You see, it is still tbe oarnival season in the world. It is in Lent that tbe great ladies come to us, and then we have olten not a room free. The nun smiled sadly, shaking her head again in a way that seemed habitnal with her. "After all," she added, as Unorna said nothing, "it is better that they should come then, rather than not at all, though I often think it would be better still if they spent carnival in the convent and Lent in the world." "Tbe world you speak of would be a gloomy place if you had the ordering of it, Sister Paul," observed Unorna, with a little laugh. "Ab. well! I daresay it would seem so to you. I know little enough of the world as you understand it, save for what onr guests tell me and, indeed, I am glad that I do not know more." "You know almost as much as I do." The Sister looked long and earnestly into Unorna's face, as thought searching for something. She was. a thin, pale woman, over forty years of age. Kot a wrinkle marked her waxen skin, and her hair was entirely concealed under tbe smooth head dress; but her age was in her eyes. "What is your life, Utorna?" she asked suddenly. "We hear i trance tales of It I sometimes, though we kniw, also, that you ) do great works of charity. But we hea strange tales and strange words." "Do you?" Unorna suppressed a smile? of scorn. "What do people say of me? I never asked." "Strange things, strange things," r& peated the nun, with a shake of the head. "What are tbey? Tell me one of them, as an instance." "I should fear to offend you indeed, I am sure I should, though we were good friends once." "And are still. The more reason why you should tell me what is said. Of course,, I am alone in the world, and people will al-j ways tell vile tales of women who have noH one to protect them." ".No, no," Sister Paul hastened to assnraj !r. An n. nnmsn ri ifai! l,a ...1i.il ' her. us that touches your fair name. On tha contrary, I have heard worldly women say ' much more that is good of you in that re-! spect than they will sav of each other. Butj there are other things, TJnorna otherthings - .. .., .w nViU u itautcu I which fill me with fear for vou. SAID STSTEK PATTIi. -1 I yon by a name that makes me s shudder when?! 1 bear it" . . "A name?" repeated Unorna in surpris$ and with considerable curiosity. 1 "A name a word what you will no, lj cannot tell vou, and besides it must be un true." ' J Unorna was silent for a moment.and thefj understood. She laughed aloud with pesj feet unconcern. j "I know!" she cried. "How foolish of me! Thev call me the Witch of coursel" Sister Paul's face grew very grave, anJ she immediately crossed herself devoutly looking askance at Unorna as she did so But Uuorna only laughed again. "Perhaps it is very foolish," said the nun, "but I cannot bear to hear such a thins said of you." "It is not said in earnest. Do you kno why they call me the Witch? It Is very simple. It is because I otn make people sleep people who are suffering, or mad, ox in great sorrow and then they rest. Thai' is all my magic" "You can put people to sleep? Anybody7 Sister Paul opened her faded eyes very wide. "But that is not natural." sheadded in a perplexed tone. "And what is not natural cannot be right." "And is all right that is natural?" asked' Unorna xhonphtfnllv. "It is not natural," repeated the other, "How do you do it? Do you usa stxanga words and herbs and incantations?" Unorna laughed again, but tbe nnfl seemed shocked by her leytty.and aha forced herself to be grave. "No, indeed 1" she answered. "I look into their eyes and tell them to sleep and they do. Poor Sister Paull You are be hind the age in the dear old convent here! The thing is done in half of the great hos pitals of Europe every day, and men and women are cured in that way ot diseases that paralyze them in body as well as ia mind. Men study to learn how it is done it is as common to-day as a mcan3 of healing as the medicines you know by name and?1 taste. It ia called hypnotism." Again the Sister crossed herself. "I have heard the word, I thint," she said, as thongh she thought there was some thing diabolical in it "And do you heal the sick in this way by means of this thing?" "Sometime, unorna answered." J.nere is an old man, for instance, whorn I have) kept alive for many yean by making him, sleep a great deal." Unorna smiled a little. "But have you no words with it? 2Toth " ing?" "Nothing. It is my will. That Is all." "Bat if it is of good, and not of the evil one, there should be a prayer with it. Could you not say a prayer with it, Unorna ?" "I dare say I could," replied the other, trying not to laugh. "But that would ba doing two things at once my will would bs weakened." "It cannot be of good." said the nun." It is not natural, and it is not true that tha prayer can distract the will from the per formance of a good deed." She shook her head more energetically thin usual. "And. it is not good, either, that you should be) called a witch, you who have lived hers among us." "It is not my fanlt 1" exclaimed Unorna, somewhat annoyed by her persistence. "And besides, Sister Paul, evea if the devil is ia it, it would be right nil the same." The nun held up her hands in holy horror and her jaw dropped. "My child I my child 1 How can you say such things to me?" "It i& very true," Unorna answered, qnietly smiling at her amazement- "If pec pie who are ill are made well, is it not a real good, even if the evil one does it? Is it not good to make him do good if one can, evea against his will?" "Ho, nol" cried SisL-r Paul ia great dis tress. "Do not talk like that let us not talk of it at all! Wh.ttever It is, it is bad. and I do not understand it, and I am sura that none of us here could, no matter hoV well you explained it. Uut if -you will d They calL It, Unorna, my dear child, then sav 4 v ' - '
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