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
' - '