The night-breeze fans my faded cheek,

And lifts my damp and flowing hair--

And lo! methinks sweet voices speak,

Like harp-strings to the viewless air;

While in the sky's unmeasured scroll,

The burning stars forever roll,

Changeless as heaven, and deeply bright--

Fair emblems of a world of light!

Oh, bathe my temples with thy dew,

Sweet Evening, dearest parent mild,

And from thy curtained home of blue,

Bend calmly o'er thy tearful child:

For, when I feel, so soft and bland,

The pressure of thy tender hand,

I dream I rest in peace the while,

Cradled beneath my mother's smile.

That mother sleeps! the snow-white shroud

Enfolds her stainless bosom now,

And, like bright hues on some pale cloud,

Rose-leaves were woven round her brow.

I wreathed them that to heaven's pure bowers,

Surrounded with the breath of flowers,

Her soul might soar through mists divine,

Like incense from a holy shrine.

How changed my being! moments sweep

Down, down the eternal gulf of Time;

And we, like gilded bubbles, keep

Our course amid their waves sublime,

Till, mingled with the foam and spray,

We flash our lives of joy away;

Or, drifting on through Sorrow's shades,

Sink as a gleam of starlight fades.

Alone! alone! I'm left alone--

A creature born to grieve and die;

But, while upon Night's sapphire throne,

In yonder broad and glorious sky,

I gaze in sadness--lo! I feel

A vision of the future steal

Across my sight, like some faint ray

That glimmers from the fount of day.

* * * * *

OTHELLO TO IAGO.

BY R.T. CONRAD.

Accursed be thy life! Darkness thy day!

Time, a slow agony; a poison, love;

Wild fears about thee, wan despair above!

Crush'd hopes, like withered leaves, bestrew thy way!

Nothing that lives lov'st thou; nothing that lives

Loves thee. The drops that fall from Hecla's snow

'Neath the slant sun, are warmer than the flow

Of thy chill'd heart. Thine be the bolt that rives!

Be there no heaven to thee; the sky a pall;

The earth a rack; the air consuming fire;

The sleep of death and dust thy sole desire--

Life's throb a torture, and life's thought a thrall:

And at the judgment may thy false soul be,

And, 'neath the blasting blaze of light, _meet me!_

* * * * *

PERSONS AND PICTURES FROM THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT.

NO. I.--SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND HIS WIFE.

It is commonly said, and appears generally to be believed by superficial

students of history, that with the reigns of the Plantagenets, with the

Edwards and the Henrys of the fifteenth century, the age of chivalry was

ended, the spirit of romance became extinct. To those, however, who have

looked carefully into the annals of the long and glorious reign of the

great Elizabeth, it becomes evident that, so far from having passed away

with the tilt and tournament, with the complete suits of knightly armor,

and the perilous feats of knight-errantry, the fire of chivalrous courtesy

and chivalrous adventure never blazed more brightly, than at the very

moment when it was about to expire amid the pedantry and cowardice, the low

gluttony and shameless drunkenness, which disgraced the accession of the

first James to the throne of England. Nor will the brightest and most

glorious names of fabulous or historic chivalry, the Tancreds and Godfreys

of the crusades, the Oliviers and Rolands of the court of Charlemagne, the

Old Campeador of old Castile, or the _preux_ Bayard of France, that

_chevalier sans peur et sans reproche_, exceed the lustre which encircles,

to this day, the characters of Essex, Howard, Philip Sidney, Drake,

Hawkins, Frobisher, and Walter Raleigh.

It was full time that, at this period, maritime adventure had superseded

the career of the barded war-horse, and the brunt of the leveled spear; and

that to foray on the Spanish colonies, beyond the line, where, it was said,

truce or peace never came; to tempt the perils of the tropical seas in

search of the Eldorado, or the Fountain of Health and Youth, in the fabled

and magical realms of central Florida; and to colonize the forest shores of

the virgin wildernesses of the west, was now paramount in the ardent minds

of England's martial youth, to the desire of obtaining distinction in the

bloody battle-fields of the Low Countries, or in the fierce religious wars

of Hungary and Bohemia. And of these hot spirits, the most ardent, the most

adventurous, the foremost in everything that savored of romance or

gallantry, was the world-renowned Sir Walter Raleigh.

Born of an honorable and ancient family in Devonshire, he early came to

London, in order to push his fortunes, as was the custom in those days with

the cadets of illustrious families whose worldly wealth was unequal to

their birth and station, by the chances of court favor, or the readier

advancement of the sword. At this period, Elizabeth was desirous of lending

assistance to the French Huguenots, who had been recently defeated in the

bloody battle of Jarnac, and who seemed to be in considerable peril of

being utterly overpowered by their cruel and relentless enemies the Guises;

while she was at the same time wholly disinclined to involve England in

actual strife, by regular and declared hostilities.

She gave permission, therefore, to Henry Champernon to raise a regiment of

gentlemen volunteers, and to transport them into France. In the number of

these, young Walter Raleigh enrolled, and thenceforth his career may be

said to have commenced; for from that time scarce a desperate or glorious

adventure was essayed, either by sea or land, in which he was not a

participator. In this, his first great school of military valor and

distinction, he served with so much spirit, and such display of gallantry

and aptitude for arms, that he immediately attracted attention, and, on his

return to England in 1570, after the pacification, and renewal of the

edicts for liberty of conscience, found himself at once a marked man.

It seems that, about this time, in connection with Nicholas Blount and

others, who afterward attained to both rank and eminence, Raleigh attached

himself to the Earl of Essex, who at that time disputed with Leicester the

favors, if not the affection, of Elizabeth; and, while in his suite, had

the fortune to attract the notice of that princess by the handsomeness of

his figure and the gallantry of his attire; she, like her father, Henry,

being quick to observe and apt to admire those who were eminently gifted

with the thews and sinews of a man.

A strangely romantic incident was connected with his first rise in the

favor of the Virgin Queen, which is so vigorously and brilliantly described

by another and even more renowned Sir Walter in his splendid romance of

Kenilworth, that it shames us to attempt it with our far inferior pen; but

it is so characteristic of the man and of the times that it may not be

passed over in silence.

Being sent once on a mission--so runs the tale--by his lord to the queen,

at Greenwich, he arrived just as she was issuing in state from the palace

to take her barge, which lay manned and ready at the stairs. Repulsed by

the gentlemen pensioners, and refused access to her majesty until after her

return from the excursion, the young esquire stood aloof, to observe the

passing of the pageant; and, seeing the queen pause and hesitate on the

brink of a pool of rain-water which intersected her path, no convenience

being at hand wherewith to bridge it, took off his crimson cloak,

handsomely laid down with gold lace, his only courtlike garment, fell on

one knee, and with doffed cap and downcast eyes threw it over the puddle,

so that the queen passed across dry shod, and swore by God's life, her

favorite oath, that there was chivalry and manhood still in England.

Immediately thereafter, he was summoned to be a member of the royal

household, and was retained about the person of the queen, who condescended

to acts of much familiarity, jesting, capping verses, and playing at the

court games of the day with him, not a little, it is believed, to the

chagrin of the haughty and unworthy favorite, Dudley, Earl of Leicester.

It does not appear, however, that, although she might coquet with Raleigh,

to gratify her own love of admiration, and to enjoy the charms of his rich

and fiery eloquence and versatile wit, though she might advance him in his

career of arms, and even stimulate his vaulting ambition to deeds of yet

wilder emprise, she ever esteemed Raleigh as he deserved to be esteemed, or

penetrated the depths of his imaginative and creative genius, much less

beloved him personally, as she did the vain and petty ambitious Leicester,

or the high-spirited, the valorous, the hapless Essex.

Another anecdote is related of this period, which will serve in no small

degree to illustrate this trait of Elizabeth's strangely-mingled nature.

Watching with the ladies of her court, in the gardens of one of her royal

residences, as was her jealous and suspicious usage, the movements of her

young courtier, when he either believed, or affected to believe himself

unobserved, she saw him write a line on a pane of glass in a garden

pavilion with a diamond ring, which, on inspecting it subsequently to his

departure, she found to read in this wise:--

"Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall--"

the sentence, or the distich rather, being thus left unfinished, when, with

her royal hand, she added the second line--no slight encouragement to so

keen and fiery a temperament as that of him for whom she wrote, when given

him from such a source--

"If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all."

But his heart never failed him--not in the desperate strife with the

Invincible Armada--not when he discovered and won for the English crown the

wild shores of the tropical Guiana--not when he sailed the first far up the

mighty Orinoco--not when, in after days, he stormed Cadiz, outdoing even

the daring deeds of emulous and glorious--not when the favor of Elizabeth

was forfeited--not in the long years of irksome, solitary, heart-breaking

imprisonment, endured at the hands of that base, soulless despot, the first

James of England--not at his parting from his beloved and lovely wife--not

on the scaffold, where he died as he had lived, a dauntless, chivalrous,

high-minded English gentleman.

The greatest error of his life was his pertinacious hostility to Essex,

originating in the jealousy of that brave, but rash and headstrong leader,

who disgraced and suspended him after the taking of Fayal, a circumstance

which he never forgave or forgot--an error which ultimately cost him his

own life, since it alienated from him the affections of the English people,

and rendered them pitiless to him in his own extremity.

But his greatest crime, in the eyes of Elizabeth, the crime which lost him

her good graces for ever, and neutralized all his services on the flood and

in the field, rendering ineffective even the strange letter which he

addressed to his friend, Sir Robert Cecil, and which was doubtless shown to

the queen, although it failed to move her implacable and iron heart, was

his marriage, early in life, to the beautiful and charming Elizabeth

Throgmorton. The letter to which I have alluded is so curious that I cannot

refrain from quoting it entire, as a most singular illustration of the

habits of that age of chivalry, and of the character of that strange

compound, Elizabeth, who, to the "heart of a man, and that man a king of

England," to quote her own eloquent and noble diction, added the vanity and

conceit of the weakest and most frivolous of womankind, and who, at the age

of sixty years, chose to be addressed as a Diana and a Venus, a nymph, a

goddess, and an angel.

"My heart," he wrote, "was never till this day, that I hear the queen

goes away so far off, whom I have followed so many years, with so great

love and desire, in so many journeys, and am now left behind here, in a

dark prison all alone. While she was yet near at hand, that I might

hear of her once in two or three days, my sorrows were the less; but

even now my heart is cast into the depth of all misery. I, that was

wont to behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking

like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks

like a nymph, sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes

singing like an angel, sometimes playing like Orpheus. Behold the

sorrow of this world! Once a miss has bereaved me of all. Oh! glory,

that only shineth in misfortune, what is become of thy assurance? All

wounds have scars but that of fantasy: all affections their relentings

but that of womankind. Who is the judge of friendship but adversity? or

when is grace witnessed but in offences? There was no divinity but by

reason of compassion; for revenges are brutish and mortal. All those

times past, the loves, the sighs, the sorrows, the desires, cannot they

weigh down one frail misfortune? Cannot one drop of gall be his in so

great heaps of sweetness? I may then conclude, '_spes et fortuna

valete;_' she is gone in whom I trusted, and of me hath not one thought

of mercy, nor any respect of that which was. Do with me now, therefore,

what you list. I am more weary of life than they are desirous that I

should perish; which, if it had been for her, as it is by her, I had

been too happily born."

It is singular enough that such a letter should have been written, under

any circumstances, by a middle-aged courtier to an aged queen; but it

becomes far more remarkable and extraordinary when we know that the life of

Raleigh was not so much as threatened at the time when he wrote; and, so

far had either of the parties ever been from entertaining any such

affection the one for the other as could alone, according to modern ideas,

justify such fervor of language, that Elizabeth was at that time pining

with frustrated affection and vain remorse for the death of her beloved

Essex; a remorse which, in the end, broke a heart which had defied all

machinations of murdereous conspiracies, all menaces, all overtures of the

most powerful and martial princes to sway it from its stately and

impressive magnanimity; while Raleigh was possessed by the most perfect and

enduring affection to the almost perfect woman whom he held it his proudest

trophy to have wedded, and who justified his entire devotion by her love

unmoved through good or ill report, and proved to the utmost in the dungeon

and on the scaffold--the love of a pure, high-minded, trusting woman,

confident, and fearless, and faithful to the end.

It does not appear that Raleigh suspected the true cause of Elizabeth's

alienation from so good and great a servant: perhaps no one man of the many

whom for the like cause she neglected, disgraced, persecuted, knew that the

cause existed in the fact of their having taken to themselves partners of

life and happiness--a solace which she sacrificed to the sterile honors of

an undivided crown--of their enjoying the bliss and perfect contentment of

a happy wedded life, while she, who would fain have enjoyed the like, could

she have done so without the loan of some portion of her independent and

undivided authority, was compelled, by her own jealousy of power and

obstinacy of will, to pine in lonely and unloved virginity.

Yet such was doubtless the cause of his decline in the royal favor, which

he never, in after days, regained; for, after Essex was dead by her award

and deed, Elizabeth, in her furious and lion-like remorse, visited his

death upon the heads of all those who had been his enemies in life, or

counseled her against him, even when he was in arms against her crown; nor

forgave them any more than she forgave herself, who died literally

broken-hearted, the most lamentable and disastrous of women, if the

proudest and most fortunate queens, in the heyday of her fortunes, when she

had raised her England to that proud and pre-eminent station above rather

than among the states of Europe, from which she never declined, save for a

brief space under her successors, those weakest and wickedest of English

kings, the ominous and ill-starred Stuarts, and which she still maintains

in her hale and superb old age, savoring, after nearly nine centuries of

increasing might and scarcely interrupted rule, in no respect of

decrepitude or decay.

Her greatest crime was the death of Mary Stuart; her greatest misfortune,

the death of Essex; her greatest shame, the disgrace of Walter Raleigh. But

with all her crimes, all her misfortunes, all her shame, she was a great

woman, and a glorious queen, and in both qualities peculiarly and

distinctively English. The stay and bulwark of her country's freedom and

religion, she lived and died possessed of that rarest and most divine gift

to princes, her people's unmixed love and veneration.

She died in an ill day, and was succeeded by one in all respects her

opposite: a coward, a pedant, a knave, a tyrant, a mean, base, beastly

sensualist--a bad man, devoid even of a bad man's one redeeming virtue,

physical courage--a bad weak man with the heart of a worse and weaker

woman--a man with all the vices of the brute creation, without one of their

virtues. His instincts and impulses were all vile and low, crafty and

cruel; his principles, if his rules of action, which were all founded on

cheatery and subtle craft, can be called principles, were yet baser than

his instinctive impulses.

He is the only man I know, recorded in history, who is solely odious,

contemptible, and bestial, without one redeeming trait, one feature of mind

or body that can preserve him from utter and absolute detestation and

damnation of all honorable and manly minds.

He is the only king of whom, from his cradle to his grave, no one good

deed, no generous, or bold, or holy, or ambitious, much less patriotic or

aspiring, thought or action is related.

His soul was akin to the mud, of which his body was framed--to the slime of

loathsome and beastly debauchery, in which he wallowed habitually with his

court and the ladies of his court, and his queen at their head, and could

no more have soared heavenward than the garbage-battened vulture could have

soared to the noble falcon's pitch and pride of place.

This beast,[1] for I cannot bring myself to write him man or king, with the

usual hatred and jealousy of low foul minds towards everything noble and

superior, early conceived a hatred for the gallant and great Sir Walter

Raleigh, whose enterprise and adventure he had just intellect enough to

comprehend so far as to fear them, but of whose patriotism, chivalry,

innate nobility of soul, romantic daring, splendid imagination, and vast

literary conceptions--being utterly unconscious himself of such

emotions--he was no more capable of forming a conception, than is the

burrowing mole of appreciating the flight of the soaring eagle.

So early as the second year of his reign, he contrived to have this great

discoverer and gallant soldier--to whom Virginia is indebted for the honor

of being the first English colony, Jamestown having been settled in 1606,

whereas the Puritans landed on the rock of Plymouth no earlier than 1620,

and to whom North Carolina has done honor creditable to herself in naming

her capital after him, the first English colonist--arraigned on a false

charge of conspiracy in the case of Arabella Stuart, a young lady as

virtuous and more unfortunate than sweet Jane Grey, whose treatment by

James would alone have been enough to stamp him with eternal infamy, and

for whose history we refer our readers to the fine novel by Mr. James on

this subject.

At this time, Raleigh was unpopular in England, on account of his supposed

complicity in the death of Essex; and, on the strength of this

unpopularity, he was arraigned, on the single _written_ testimony of one

Cobham, a pardoned convict of the same conspiracy, which testimony he

afterwards retracted, and then again retracted the retractation, and

without one concurring circumstance, without being confronted with the

prisoner, after shameless persecution from Sir Edward Coke, the great

lawyer, then attorney-general, was found guilty by the jury, and sentenced,

contrary to all equity and justice, to the capital penalties of high

treason.

From this year, 1604, until 1618, a period of nearly fourteen years, not

daring to put him at that time to death, he caused him to be confined

strictly in the Tower, a cruel punishment for so quick and active a spirit,

which he probably expected would speedily release him by a natural death

from one whom he regarded as a dangerous and resolute foe, whom he dared

neither openly to dispatch nor honorably to release from unmerited and

arbitrary confinement.

But his cruel anticipations were signally frustrated by the noble

constancy, and calm, self-sustained intrepidity of the noble prisoner, who,

to borrow the words of his detractor, Hume, "being educated amid naval and

military enterprises, had surpassed, in the pursuits of literature, even

those of the most recluse and sedentary lives."

Supported and consoled by his exemplary and excellent wife, he was enabled

to entertain the irksome days and nights of his solitary imprisonment by

the composition of a work, which, if deficient in the points which are now,

in the advanced state of human sciences, considered essential to a great

literary creation, is, as regarded under the circumstances of its

conception and execution, one of the greatest exploits of human ingenuity

and human industry--"The History of the World, by Sir Walter Raleigh."

It was during his imprisonment also that he projected the colonization of

Jamestown, which was carried out in 1606, at his instigation, by the

Bristol Company, of which he was a member. This colony, though it was twice

deserted, was in the end successful, and in it was born the first child,

Virginia Dare by name, of that Anglo-Saxon race which has since conquered a

continent, and surpassed, in the nonage of its republican sway, the

maturity of mighty nations.

In 1618, induced by the promises of Raleigh to put the English crown in

possession of a gold mine which he asserted, and probably believed he had

discovered in Guiana, James, whose avidity always conquered his

resentments, and who, like Faustus, would have sold his soul--had he had

one to sell--for gold, released him, and, granting him, as he asserted, an

unconditional pardon--but, as James and his counselors maintain, one

conditional on fresh discoveries, sent him out at the head of twelve armed

vessels.

What follows is obscure; but it appears that Raleigh, failing to discover

the mines, attacked and plundered the little town of St. Thomas, which the

Spaniards had built on the territories of Guiana, which Raleigh had

acquired three-and-twenty years before for the English crown, and which

James, with his wonted pusillanimity, had allowed the Spaniards to occupy,

without so much as a remonstrance.

This conduct of Raleigh must be admitted unjustifiable, as Spain and

England were then in a state of profound peace; and the plea that truce or

peace with Spain never crossed the line, though popular in England in those

days of Spanish aggression and Romish intolerance, cannot for a moment

stand the test either of reason or of law.

Falling into suspicion with his comrades, Sir Walter was brought home in

irons, and delivered into the hands of the pitiless and rancorous king, who

resolved to destroy him--yet, dreading to awaken popular indignation by

delivering him up to Spain, caused to revive the ancient sentence, which

had never been set aside by a formal pardon, and cruelly and unjustly

executed him on that spot, so consecrated by the blood of noble patriots

and holy martyrs, the dark and gory scaffold of Tower Hill.

And here, in conclusion, I can do no better than to quote from an anonymous

writer in a recent English magazine, the following brief tribute to his

high qualities, and sad doom, accompanied by his last exquisite letter to

his wife.

"His mind was indeed of no common order. With him, the wonders of earth and

the dispensations of heaven were alike welcome; his discoveries at sea, his

adventures abroad, his attacks on the colonies of Spain, were all arenas of

glory to him--but he was infinitely happier by his own fireside, in

recalling the spirits of the great in the history of his country--nay, was

even more contented in the gloom of his ill-deserved prison, with the

volume of genius or the book of life before him, than in the most animating

successes of the battle-field.

"The event which clouded his prosperity and destroyed his influence with

the queen--his marriage with Elizabeth Throgmorton--was the one upon which

he most prided himself; and justly, too--for, if ever woman was created the

companion, the solace of man--if ever wife was deemed the dearest thing of

earth to which earth clings, that woman was his wife. Not merely in the

smiles of the court did her smiles make a world of sunshine to her Raleigh;

not merely when the destruction of the Armada made her husband's name

glorious; not merely when his successes and his discoveries on the ocean

made his presence longed for at the palace, did she interweave her best

affections with the lord of her heart. It was in the hour of adversity she

became his dearest companion, his 'ministering angel;' and when the gloomy

walls of the accursed Tower held all her empire of love, how proudly she

owned her sovereignty! Not even before the feet of her haughty mistress, in

her prayerful entreaties for her dear Walter's life, did she so eminently

shine forth in all the majesty of feminine excellence as when she guided

his counsels in the dungeon, and nerved his mind to the trials of the

scaffold, where, in his manly fortitude, his noble self-reliance, the

people, who mingled their tears with his triumph, saw how much the patriot

was indebted to the woman.

"Were there no other language but that of simple, honest affection, what a

world of poetry would remain to us in the universe of love! You may be

excited to sorrow for his fate by recalling the varied incidents of his

attractive life: you may mourn over the ruins of his chapel at his native

village: you may weep over the fatal result of his ill-starred patriotism:

you may glow over his successes in the field or on the wave: your lip may

curl with scorn at the miserable jealousy of Elizabeth: your eye may kindle

with wrath at the pitiful tyranny of James--but how will your sympathies be

so awakened as by reading his last, simple, touching letter to his wife.

"'You receive, my dear wife, my last words, in these my last lines. My

love, I send you that you may keep it when I am dead; and my counsel,

that you may remember it when I am no more. I would not with my will

present you with sorrows, dear Bess--let them go to the grave with me

and be buried in the dust--and, seeing that it is not the will of God

that I should see you any more, bear my destruction patiently, and with

a heart like yourself.

"'First--I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive, or my

words express, for your many travels and cares for me, which, though

they have not taken effect as you wished, yet my debt to you is not the

less; but pay it I never shall in this world.

"'Secondly--I beseech you, for the love you bear me living, that you do

not hide yourself many days, but by your travels seek to help my

miserable fortunes and the right of your poor child--your mourning

cannot avail me that am dust--for I am no more yours, nor you

mine--death hath cut us asunder, and God hath divided me from the

world, and you from me.

"'I cannot write much. God knows how hardly I steal this time when all

sleep. Beg my dead body, which, when living, was denied you, and lay it

by our father and mother--I can say no more--time and death call me

away;--the everlasting God--the powerful, infinite, and inscrutable

God, who is goodness itself, the true light and life, keep you and

yours, and have mercy upon me, and forgive my persecutors and false

accusers, and send us to meet in his glorious kingdom.

"My dear wife--farewell! Bless my boy--pray for me, and let the true

God hold you both in his arms.

"'Yours, that was; but now, not mine own,

"'WALTER RALEIGH.'"

"Thus a few fond words convey more poetry to the heart than a whole world

of verse.

"We know not any man's history more romantic in its commencement, or more

touching in its close, than that of Raleigh--from the first dawn of his

fortunes, when he threw his cloak before the foot of royalty, throughout

his brilliant rise and long imprisonment, to the hour when royalty rejoiced

in his merciless martyrdom.

"Whether the recital of his eloquent speeches, the perusal of his vigorous

and original poetry, or the narration of his quaint, yet profound 'History

of the World,' engage our attention, all will equally impress us with

admiration of his talent, with wonder at his achievements, with sympathy in

his misfortunes, and with pity at his fall."

When he was brought upon the scaffold, he felt the edge of the axe with

which he was to be beheaded, and observed, "'Tis a sharp remedy, but a sure

one for all ills," harangued the people calmly, eloquently, and

conclusively, in defence of his character, laid his head on the block with

indifference, and died as he had lived, undaunted, one of the greatest

benefactors of both England and America, judicially murdered by the pitiful

spite of the basest and worst of England's monarchs. James could slay his

body, but his fame shall live forever.

[1] I would here caution my readers from placing the slightest confidence

in anything stated in Hume's History (_fable?_) of the Stuarts, and

especially of this, the worst of a bad breed.

* * * * *

HOPE ON, HOPE EVER.

BY ROBERT G. ALLISON.

If sorrow's clouds around thee lower,

E'en in affliction's gloomiest hour,

Hope on firmly, hope thou ever;

Let nothing thee from Hope dissever.

What though storms life's sky o'ercast

Time's sorrows will not always last,

This vale of tears will soon be past.

Hope darts a ray to light death's gloom,

And smooths the passage to the tomb;

Hope is to weary mortals given,

To lead them to the joys of heaven

Then, when earth's scenes, however dear,

From thy dim sight shall disappear--

When sinks the pulse, and fails the eye,

Then on Hope's pinions shall thy spirit fly

To fairer worlds above the sky.

Then hope thou on, and hope thou ever;

Let nothing thee from Hope dissever.

* * * * *

THE DRESSING ROOM.

[Illustration]

Full bodies not gathered in at the top, but left either quite loose, or so

as to form an open fluting, are becoming very fashionable; but they require

to be very carefully made, and to have a tight body under them, as

otherwise they look untidy--particularly as the age of stiff stays has

departed, we trust never to return, and the modern elegants wear stays with

very little whalebone in them, if they wear any at all.

In our figures, the one holding the fan has the body of her dress, which is

of spotted net, fluted at the top; the skirt is made open at the side, and

fastened with a bouquet of roses. The petticoat, which is of pink satin,

has a large bow of ribbon with a rose in the centre, just below the rose

which fastens the dress. The sleeves are also trimmed with bunches of

roses; and the gloves are of a very delicate pale pink.

The other dress is of white net or tarlatan, made with three skirts, and a

loose body and sleeves. The upper skirts are both looped up with flowers on

the side, and large bows of very pale-yellow ribbon. Ribbon of the same

color is worn in the hair, and the gloves are of a delicately tinted

yellowish white.

[Illustration]

The dress of the standing figure is of rich yellow brocaded silk, trimmed

with three flounces of white lace, carried up to the waist, so as to appear

like three over skirts, open in front. The body is trimmed with a double

berthe of Vandyked lace, which is also carried round the sleeves. The

gloves are rather long, and of a delicate cream-color. The hair is dressed

somewhat in the Grecian style so as to form a rouleau round the face--the

front hair being combed back over a narrow roll of brown silk stuffed with

wool, which is fastened round the head like a wreath. A golden bandeau is

placed above the rouleau.

The sitting figure shows another mode of arranging the hair. The back hair

is curiously twisted, and mixed with narrow rolls of scarlet and white; and

the front hair is dressed in waved bandeaux, or it may be curled in what

the French call English ringlets. Plain smooth bandeaux have almost

entirely disappeared; but bandeaux, with the hair waved, or projecting from

the face, are common.

* * * * *

KNITTED FLOWERS.

AMERICAN MARYGOLD.

The prettiest are in _shaded orange_-colored wool (of four threads), which

must be split in two, as the Berlin wool. Begin with the darkest shade.

Cast on eight stitches, work them in ribs, four in each row, knitting two

stitches; and purling two; both sides must be alike. Continue this till you

come to the beginning of the lightest shade; then begin to decrease one

stitch at the beginning of every row, till only one stitch remains in the

middle; fasten this off, break the wool, and begin the next petal with the

darkest shade. Eight petals will be required for each flower. Every petal

must be edged with wire; and, in order to do this neatly, you must cover a

piece of wire with wool--the middle of the wire with one thread only of

brown split wool--and the sides with a lighter shade, to correspond with

the color of the petal; sew this round with the same shades of wool.

To make up the flower, it will be necessary to form a tuft of the same

shaded wool, _not_ split. This is done by cutting five or six bits of wool

about an inch long, and placing them across a bit of double wire; twist the

wire very tight, and cut the ends of the wool quite even; fasten the eight

petals round this, near the top, which can be done either by twisting the

wires together or by sewing them round with a rug needle.

CALYX.--The calyx will require four needles.

Cast on twelve stitches, four on each of three needles. Knit in plain

rounds till you have about half an inch in length; then knit two stitches

in one, break the wool some distance from the work, thread it with a rug

needle, and pass the wool behind the little scallop, so as to bring to the

next two stitches; work these and the remainder of the stitches in the same

manner. Cover a bit of wire with a thread of brown wool, sew it with wool

of the same color round the top of the calyx, following carefully the form

of the scallops; turn the ends of the wire inside the calyx, and place the

flower within it. Tie the calyx under the scallops with a bit of green

silk, gather the stitches of the lower part of the calyx with a rug needle

and a bit of wool, and cover the stem with split green wool.

Another way of making this flower is by knitting the petals in brioche

stitch; but if done thus, nine stitches must be cast on the needle at

first, instead of eight, and the flower finished exactly as directed.

BUDS.--The buds are made just in the same manner as the tuft which forms

the heart of the flower, only that they must be formed of lighter shades of

wool, mixed with a little pale-green wool. The wool must be tightly fixed

on the wire by twisting, and then cut very smooth and even. It must be

inserted in a small calyx, made as before.

LEAVES.--Each leaf, or small branch, is composed of seven leaflets, of the

same size--one at the top, and three on each side; they must be placed in

pairs, at a distance of about an inch between each pair.

_First leaflet._--Cast on one stitch in a bright, but rather deep shade of

yellowish-green wool. Knit and purl alternate rows, increasing one stitch

at the beginning of every row till you have seven stitches on the needle;

then knit and purl six rows without increase; decrease one stitch at the

beginning of the two following rows, and cast off the five remaining

stitches. Repeat the same for the six other leaflets. Each leaf must have a

fine wire sewn round it, and the stems covered with wool.

* * * * *

CHENILLE WORK

[Illustration: No. 1.--The pattern, full size.]

No. 1.--_A new style of Head-Dress. Worked in the second size crimson

chenille, with No. 4 gold thread._

Take a card-board of three inches deep and fifteen inches long, and fasten

to the edge of it eleven strands of chenille and gold thread placed

together; leave a space of one inch between each strand; the length of the

gold and chenille thread must be twenty-four inches. Take the first two

threads from the left-hand side, pass the two next under them; tie them in

a knot, the two outer over the two centre threads (chenille or gold thread,

as may be), and then pass them through the loop formed on the left, and so

on till the last row. The shape is an uneven triangle, nine inches from the

top corner to the centre, and seven inches from the middle of the front to

the centre. When finished, cut off the board, and sew round two sides of

the work a fringe of gold thread, which is to fall over the neck.

[Illustration: No. 2.--A portion, full size, with fringe.]

No. 2.--_Another style of Head-Dress. With white and pink second size

chenille._

This is made nearly in the same manner as No. 1, with chenille, one yard

long; but, after having made the first knot, pass a pearl bead on each

side, and then make the second knot--the measurement of the meshes to be

three-quarters of an inch. When the work is finished, the whole will be

twelve inches square. Pass round it an India-rubber cord, which will form

the fastening. The ends left from the work to be separately knotted

together with silver thread, to hang down, forming a very large and rich

tassel.

[Illustration: No. 3.--A portion of the pattern, full size.]

No. 3.--_Head-Dress of blue and silver. In chain crochet, silver cord No.

5, with second size of crochet chenille, light blue_.

Eight chain stitches, the last of which is plain crochet, and so on

continued. In the two middle stitches of the chenille take up the silver,

and in the middle stitches of the silver take up the chenille, each going

in a slanting way, once over and once under each other, as the drawing (No.

3) will show. The chenille is worked one way, and the silver goes the other

way, contrary to regular crochet work. The whole is worked square, eighteen

inches in square; and, when finished, every loop is taken up with fine

India-rubber cord, to form the shape. Put round it a silver fringe one inch

and a half deep.

* * * * *

CHEMISETTES AND UNDERSLEEVES.

[Illustration: Fig. 1.]

[Illustration: Fig. 2.]

All fashionable promenade and evening dresses being cut with an open

corsage and loose sleeves, the chemisettes and wristbands become of the

greatest importance. There is something very neat in the close coat dress,

buttoned up to the throat, and finished only by a cuff at the wrist; but it

is never so elegant, after all, as the style now so much in vogue. This

season, the V shape from the breast has given place to the square front,

introduced from the peasant costumes of France and Italy. It will be seen

in fig. 1, which is intended to be worn with that style of corsage, and

corresponds to it exactly. The chemisette is composed of alternate rows of

narrow plaits and insertion, and is edged with muslin embroidery to

correspond. It is decidedly the prettiest and neatest one of the season,

and will be found inexpensive.

[Illustration: Fig. 3.]

[Illustration: Fig. 4.]

Fig. 2 has two bands of insertion, surrounded by embroidered muslin frills;

the small collar is also edged in the same way. This may be worn with the

ordinary V front, or with the square front boddice we have alluded to.

Figs. 3 and 4 are some of the new fashionable undersleeves. It will be

noticed that they are very full, and edged with double frills. For further

description, see Chit-Chat in December number.

* * * * *

ON A CHILD ASLEEP.

BY JOHN A. CHAPMAN.

See, in that ray of light that child reposes,

Calmly as he a little angel were;

And now and then his eyes he half uncloses,

To see if his bright visions real are.

But what his visions are God only knoweth,

For that sweet child forgets them day by day;

Like breeze of Eden, that so gently bloweth,

They leave no trace when they've passed away.

'Tis thus that innocent childhood ever sleepeth.

With half closed eyes and smiles around its mouth,

At sight of which man's sunken heart upleapeth,

Like chilléd flowers when fanned by the sweet south.

Sleep on, sweet child, smile, as thou sleepest, brightly,

For thou art blest in this thy morning hour;

And, when thou wakest, thou shalt walk more lightly

Than crownéd king, or monarch throned in power.

* * * * *

EDITORS' TABLE.

One perplexing question is settled, viz., that ninety-nine does not make a

hundred. Those transcendentally erudite men who contended that the

nineteenth century commenced on the 1st of January, 1800, have at last

learned to count correctly. So we may venture to affirm, with fear of

raising an argument, that this New-Year's Day, 1851, begins the last half

of this present century.

Here, then, we stand on the dividing ridge of Time, the topmost pinnacle of

humanity; and, looking backward over the vast ocean of life, we can discern

amidst the rolling, heaving, struggling surges, which have engulfed so many

grand hopes, and towering aims, and strong endeavors during the world's

voyage of half a century, that important victories have been won, wonderful

things discovered, and great truths brought out of the turmoil in which

power, pride, and prejudice were contending fifty years ago. At the

beginning of the century, the stirring themes were deeds of war. Now, the

palm is won by works of peace. In 1801, the Old World was a battle-field,

the centre and moving power of destruction being placed in London. Now,

1851 finds "the whole world kin," as it were, busy in preparing for such an

Industrial Convention as was never held since time began: and this, too,

centres in London. What trophies of mind and might will be there exhibited!

Not victories won by force or fraud, with their advantages appropriated to

exalt a few individuals; but real advances made in those arts which give

the means of improvement to nations, and add to the knowledge, freedom, and

happiness of the people!

We are not intending to enlarge on this theme, which will be better done by

abler pens. We only allude to it here, in order to draw the attention of

our readers to one curious fact, which those who are aiming to place women

in the workshop, to compete with men, should consider: namely, that none,

or very few specimens of female ingenuity or industry will be found in the

world's great show-shop. The female mind has as yet manifested very little

of the kind of genius termed mechanical, or inventive. Nor is it the lack

of learning which has caused this uniform lack of constructive talent. Many

ignorant men have studied out and made curious inventions of mechanical

skill; women never. We are constrained to say we do not believe woman would

ever have invented the compass, the printing-press, the steam-engine, or

even a loom. The difference between the mental power of the two sexes, as

it is distinctly traced in Holy Writ and human history, we have described

and illustrated in a work[1] soon to be published. We trust this will prove

of importance in settling the question of what woman's province really is,

and where her station should be in the onward march of civilization. It is

not mechanical, but moral power which is now needed. That woman was endowed

with moral goodness superior to that possessed by man is the doctrine of

the Bible; and this moral power she must be trained to use for the

promotion of goodness, and purity, and holiness in men. There is no need

that she should help him in his task of subduing the world. He has the

strong arm and the ingenious mind to understand and grapple with things of

earth; but he needs her aid in subduing himself, his own selfish passions,

and animal propensities.

To sum up the matter, the special gifts of God to men are mechanical

ingenuity and physical strength. To women He has given moral insight or

instinct, and the patience that endures physical suffering. Both sexes

equally need enlightenment of mind or reason by education, in order to make

their peculiar gifts of the greatest advantage to themselves, to each

other, to the happiness and improvement of society, and to the glory of

God.

Such are the principles which we have been striving to disseminate for the

last twenty years; and we rejoice, on this jubilee day of the century, that

our work has been crowned with good success, and that the prospect before

us is bright and cheering. The wise king of Israel asserted the power and

predicted the future of woman in these remarkable words, "Strength and

honor are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come." And so it

will be. But the elevation of the sex will not consist in becoming like

man, in doing man's work, or striving for the dominion of the world. The

true woman cannot work with materials of earth, build up cities, mould

marble forms, or discover new mechanical inventions to aid physical

improvement. She has a higher and holier vocation. She works in the

elements of human nature; her orders of architecture are formed in the

soul. Obedience, temperance, truth, love, piety, these she must build up in

the character of her children. Often, too, she is called to repair the

ravages and beautify the waste places which sin, care, and the desolating

storms of life leave in the mind and heart of the husband she reverences

and obeys. This task she should perform faithfully, but with humility,

remembering that it was for woman's sake Eden was forfeited, because Adam

loved his wife more than his Creator, and that man's nature has to contend

with a degree of depravity, or temptation to sin, which the female, by the

grace of God, has never experienced. Yes, the wife is dependent on her

husband for the position she holds in society; she must rely on him for

protection and support; she should look up to him with reverence as her

earthly guardian, the "saviour of the body," as St. Paul says, and be

obedient. Does any wife say her husband is not worthy of this honor? Then

render it to the office with which God has invested him as head of the

family; but use your privilege of motherhood so to train your son that he

may be worthy of this reverence and obedience from his wife. Thus through

your sufferings the world may be made better; every faithful performance of

private duty adds to the stock of public virtues.

We trust, before the sands of this century are run out, that these Bible

truths will be the rule of faith and of conduct with every American wife

and mother, and that the moral influence of American women will be felt and

blessed as the saving power not only of our nation, but of the world. Our

hopes are high, not only because we believe our principles are true, but

because we expect to be sustained and helped by all who are true and

right-minded. And this recalls to our thoughts the constant and cheering

kindness which has been extended to our periodical during the long period

it has been attaining its present wide popularity. We must thank these

friends.

[1] "Woman's Record; or Biographical Sketches of all Distinguished Women,

from the Creation to the Present Time. Arranged in Four Eras. With

Selections from the Female Writers of each Era." The work is now in the

press of the Harpers, New York.

* * * *

TO THE CONDUCTORS OF THE PUBLIC PRESS.

Our Friends Editorial, who, for the last twenty years, have manifested

uniform kindness, and always been ready with their generous support, to

you, on this jubilee day, we tender our grateful acknowledgments. We have

never sought your assistance to us as individuals. Your office should have

a higher aim, a worthier estimation. You are guardians of the public

welfare, improvement, and progress. Not to favor the success of private

speculation, but to promote the dissemination of truths and principles

which shall benefit the whole community, makes your glory. We thank you

that such has been your course hitherto in regard to the "Lady's Book." The

public confidence, which your judicious notices of our work have greatly

tended to strengthen, is with us. The chivalry of the American press will

ever sustain a periodical devoted to woman; and the warm, earnest,

intelligent manner in which you have done this deserves our praise. Like

noble and true knights, you have upheld our cause, and we thank you in the

name of the thousands of fair and gentle readers of our "Book," to whom we

frankly acknowledge that your steady approval has incited our efforts to

excel. We invoke your powerful aid to sustain us through the coming years,

while we will endeavor to merit your commendations. None know so well as

you, our editorial friends, what ceaseless exertions are required to keep

the high position we have won. But the new year finds us prepared for a new

trial with all literary competitors; and, with the inspiring voice of the

public press to cheer us on, we are sure of winning the goal. In the

anticipation of this happy result, we wish to all our kind friends--what we

enjoy--health, hope, and a HAPPY NEW YEAR.

* * * *

To CORRESPONDENTS.--The following articles are accepted: "A Dream of the

Past," "Sonnet--The God of Day," &c., "My Childhood's Home," "Town and

Country Contrasted," "The Artist's Dream," "The Tiny Glove," "The Sisters,"

and "The Lord's Prayer."

Ellen Moinna's story came too late for the purpose designed. We do not need

it.

* * * *

MANUSCRIPT MUSIC ACCEPTED: "All Around and All Above Thee;" "Oh, Sing that

Song again To-Night!" (excellent); "Hope on, Hope Ever;" "The Musing Hour;"

"La Gita in Gondola;" "To Mary," by Professor Kehr.

Our friends who send us music must wait patiently for its appearance, _if

accepted_. Months must sometimes elapse, as our large edition renders it

necessary to print it in advance. Those who wish special answers from our

musical editor will please mention the fact in their communications.

* * * * *

EDITORS' BOOK TABLE.

From GEORGE S. APPLETON, corner of Chestnut and Seventh Street,

Philadelphia:--

THE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN MILTON. Edited by Sir Egerton Brydges, Bart.

Illustrated with engravings, designed by John Martin and J.W.M. Turner,

R.A. We noticed an edition of "Paradise Lost" in our November number. Here,

however, we have a complete edition of the modern Homer's works, including

"Paradise Regained," and all his minor poems, sonnets, &c. These editions

are pleasing testimonials of the renewed interest which the public are

beginning to manifest for the writings of standard English authors, in

preference to the light and ephemeral productions of those of the present

day, who have too long held the classical taste and refinement in obedience

to their influences. The illustrations of this edition are very beautiful.

THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS; _containing his Poems, Songs, and

Correspondence, with a New Life of the Poet, and Notices, Critical and

Biographical_. By Allen Cunningham. This edition of the works of the great

Scottish poet cannot fail to attract the attention of all who admire the

genius and independence of his mind, and of all who wish a full and correct

copy of his productions, compiled under the supervision of a man who was

himself an excellent poet, and capable of fairly distinguishing the

beauties and powers of a poetical mind.

EVERYBODY'S ALMANAC AND DIARY FOR 1851; _containing a List of Government

Officers. Commerce and Resources of the Union, Exports of Cotton, and

General Information for the Merchant, Tradesman, and Mechanic, together

with a Complete Memorandum for every day in the year_. A neat and valuable

work.

We have received from the same publisher the following works, compiled for

the special benefit of little children and of juvenile learners and

readers, all of which are appropriately illustrated:--

LITTLE ANNE'S ABC BOOK. LITTLE ANNE'S SPELLER. MOTHER GOOSE. By Dame

Goslin. THE ROSE-BUD. _A Juvenile Keepsake._ By Susan W. Jewett. GREAT

PANORAMA OF PHILADELPHIA. By Van Daube. With twenty-three illustrations.

* * * *

From HENRY C. BAIRD (successor to E.L. Carey); Philadelphia:--

THE POETICAL WORKS OF THOMAS GRAY. With illustrations by C.W. Radclyffe.

Edited, with a memoir, by Henry Reed, Professor of English Literature in

the University of Pennsylvania. Great pains have evidently been taken by

the editor and the publisher to render this not only the most complete and

accurate edition of the works of Gray that has ever been presented to the

American public, but also one of the most superbly embellished and

beautifully printed volumes of the season, which has called forth so many

works intended for presentation.

THE BUILDER'S POCKET COMPANION. This volume contains the elements of

building, surveying, and architecture, with practical rules and

instructions connected with the subjects, by A.C. Smeaton, Civil Engineer,

&c. The inexperienced builder, whether engaged practically, or in the

investment of capital in building improvements, will find this to be a very

valuable assistant.

THE CABINET-MAKER'S AND UPHOLSTERER'S COMPANION. This work contains much

valuable information on the subjects of which it treats, and also a number

of useful receipts and explanations of great use to the workmen in those

branches. The author, L. Stokes, has evidently taken great pains in the

arrangement and compilation of his work.

HOUSEHOLD SURGERY; _or, Hints on Emergencies_. By John F. South, one of the

Surgeons to St. Thomas's Hospital. The first American, from the second

London edition. A highly valuable book for the family, which does not

pretend, however, to supersede the advice and experience of a physician,

but merely to have in preparation, and to recommend such remedies as may be

necessary until such advice can be obtained. There are many illustrations

in the work which will greatly facilitate its practical usefulness.

* * * *

From LEA & BLANCHARD, Philadelphia:--

THE RACES OF MEN. _A Fragment._ By Robert Knox, M.D., Lecturer on Anatomy,

and Corresponding Member of the National Academy of Science in France. The

character and tendency of this "fragment," or "outlines of lectures," to

use the author's own terms, are such as cannot be suddenly determined upon

or understood. This will appear the more evident to the reader from the

assurance which he also gives, that his work runs counter to nearly all the

chronicles of events called histories; that it shocks the theories of

statesmen, theologians, and philanthropists of all shades. He maintains

that the human character, individual and national, is traceable solely to

the nature of that race to which the individual or nation belongs, which he

affirms to be simply a fact, the most remarkable, the most comprehensive

which philosophy has announced.

* * * *

From T. B. PETERSON, 98 Chestnut Street. Philadelphia:--

HORACE TEMPLETON. By Charles Lever. The publisher of this work deserves the

thanks of the reading public for presenting it with a cheap edition of so

interesting a publication. It has already passed the ordeal of the press,

and has been received, both in Europe and in America, as one of the most

entertaining productions that has appeared for many years, not excepting

"Charles O'Malley," and the other mirth-inspiring volumesof the inimitable

Lever.

THE VALLEY FARM; _or, the Autobiography of an Orphan_. Edited by Charles J.

Peterson, author of "Cruising in the Last War," &c. A work sound in morals

and abounding in natural incident.

RESEARCHES ON THE MOTION OF THE JUICES IN THE ANIMAL BODY, AND THE EFFECTS

OF EVAPORATIONS IN PLANTS; _together with an Account of the Origin of the

Potatoe Disease, with full and Ingenious Directions for the Protection and

Entire Prevention of the Potatoe Plant against all Diseases_. By Justus

Liebig, M.D., Professor of Chemistry in the University of Giessen; and

edited from the manuscript of the author, by William Gregory, M.D., of the

University of Edinburgh. A valuable treatise, as its title sufficiently

indicates.

* * * *

From PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & Co., Boston, through T.B. PETERSON,

Philadelphia:--

A PEEP AT THE PILGRIMS IN SIXTEEN HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SIX. _A Tale of Olden

Times._ By Mrs. H.V. Cheney. Those who feel an interest in the records and

monuments of the past, and who desire to study the characteristics of the

Pilgrim Fathers, and Pilgrim Mothers and Daughters, will not fail to avail

themselves of the graphic delineations presented to them in this

entertaining volume.

SHAKSPEARE'S DRAMATIC WORKS. No. 25. Containing "Troilus and Cressida,"

with a very fine engraving.

* * * *

From JOHN S. TAYLOR, New York, through T.B. PETERSON, Philadelphia:--

LETTERS FROM THE BACKWOODS AND THE ADIRONDAC. By the Rev. J.T. Headley.

Also,

THE POWER OF BEAUTY. By the same author. Illustrated editions.

* * * *

From LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, Philadelphia:--

MOSAIQUE FRANCAISE: _ou Choix De Sujets Anecdotiques, Historiques,

Littéraires et Scientifiques, tirés pour La Plupart D'Auteurs Modernes_.

Par F. Séron, Homme de lettres, l'un des rédacteurs du Journal Française;

Les Monde des enfans, Revue Encyclopédique de la jeunesse de 1844 à 1848,

etc.; Professeur de Langue et de Littérature Française à Philadelphie.

This work appears to have been compiled with great care, from works by the

best French authors. Every subject has been carefully excluded that could

in any manner wound or bias the preconceived opinions of the American

reader in relation to religious or political freedom.

* * * *

From HARPER & BROTHERS, New York, through LINDSAY & BLAKISTON,

Philadelphia:--

MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D., LL.D. By his

son-in-law, the Rev. Wm. Hanna, LL.D. The appearance of the second volume

of these memoirs will be hailed with pleasure by the admirers of Dr.

Chalmers, whose reputation as a Christian minister, and as a writer of

extraordinary beauty and power, has long preceded these volumes.

GENEVIEVE; _or, the History of a Servant Girl_. Translated from the French

of Alphonse de Lamartine. By A.A. Seoble.

ADDITIONAL MEMOIRS OF MY LIFE. By A. De Lamartine.

THE PICTORIAL FIELD BOOK OF THE REVOLUTION. No. 8. This excellent and

patriotic work fully sustains the spirit and interest that marked its

commencement.

* * * *

From the PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION, New York, through A.

HART, Philadelphia:--

THE OLD MAN'S HOME. By the Rev. William Adams, M.A., author of the "Shadow

of the Cross," &c. With engravings, from designs by Weir. Sixth American

edition. An affecting tale, written in a familiar style, and peculiarly

calculated to impress upon the youthful mind the importance of those moral

and religious truths which it is the aim of the author to inculcate.

* * * *

From GOULD, KENDALL & LINCOLN, Boston, through DANIELS & SMITH,

Philadelphia:--

THE PRE-ADAMITE EARTH: _Contributions to Theological Science_. By John

Harris, D.D., author of "The Great Teacher," &c. The present volume is the

"third thousand," which we presume to mean the "third edition," revised and

corrected, of this work, which may be considered a successful effort to

reconcile the dogmas of theology with the progress of philosophy and

science. The style of the author is argumentative and eloquent, evincing

great knowledge and zeal in the development of the interesting subjects

connected with his treatise.

RELIGIOUS PROGRESS: _Discourses on the Development of the Christian

Character_. By William R. Williams. Comprising five lectures originally

prepared for the pulpit, and delivered by their author to the people under

his charge. These lectures are chaste and graceful in style, and sound and

vigorous in argument.

* * * *

From TICKNOR, REED & FIELDS, Boston.

BIOGRAPHICAL ESSAYS. By Thomas De Quincey, author of "Confessions of an

English Opium Eater," etc. This is the second volume of Mr. De Quincey's

writings, now in course of publication. It contains biographical sketches

of Shakspeare, Pope, Charles Lamb, Goethe, and Schiller, accompanied by

numerous notes, which, with the author's acknowledged taste, will give a

new interest to these almost familiar subjects.

ASTRÆA. _The Balance of Illusions._ A poem delivered before the Phi Beta

Kappa Society of Yale College, August 14, 1850, by Oliver Wendell Holmes.

This poem contains many beautiful gems, interspersed with some satirical

descriptions of men and manners, which prove Mr. Holmes to be a caustic as

well as an amusing writer.

* * * *

NEW MUSIC.

We have received from Mr. Oliver Diston, No. 115 Washington Street, Boston,

a collection of beautiful music, got up in his usual taste.

_The Prima Donna Polka._ By Edward L. White.

_The German Schottisch._ By T.S. Lloyd. And

_The Starlight Polka._ Three excellent polkas, with music enough in them to

draw the proper steps from every heel and toe in the land.

_Oh, Come to the Ingleside!_ A sweet ballad by Eliza Cook, the music by

W.H. Aldridge.

_A Mother's Prayer._. By J.E. Gould.

_The Araby Maid._ By J.T. Surenne.

_Old Ironsides at Anchor lay._ One of Dodge's favorite songs, the words by

Morris, the music by B. Covert.

_A Little Word._ By Niciola Olivieri (!).

_The Parting Look._ Words by Henry Sinclair, music by Alex. Wilson.

Embellished by a fine lithograph.

_The Dying Boy._ Another of Dodge's favorite songs. The words are by Mrs.

Larned, and the music by Lyman Heath. This song has also a fine engraving.

Mr. Diston has also commenced the publication of Beethoven's Sonatas for

the piano forte, from the newly revised edition, published by subscription

in Germany.

* * * *

MESSRS. LEE & WALKER, No. 162 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, are now

publishing "_Lindiana_," a choice selection of Jenny Lind's songs, with

brilliant variations by the untiring Chas. Grobe. The first is the "Dream."

In the hands of Professor Grobe, we cannot doubt the entire success of the

enterprise. The series is dedicated to "our musical editor," who fully

appreciates the compliment and returns his sincere thanks.

* * * *

Our old friend Mr. James Conenhoven, associated with Mr. Duffy, has opened

a new music store at No. 120 Walnut Street, Philadelphia. From Mr. C.'s

known taste and knowledge of the business, we anticipate his entire

success, and cheerfully recommend our friends to make his early

acquaintance in his new career. They have sent us the _Silver Bell Waltz_,

by Mr. Conenhoven himself, and _Solitude_, a beautiful song by Kirk White,

the music by John Daniel. Both are very handsomely got up, and are valuable

accessions to a musical portfolio.

* * * *

OUR TITLE-PAGE.--Those who are fond of Fashions other than colored will be

gratified with our title-page, which contains at least fifty figures.

* * * *

PRINTING IN COLORS.--We give another specimen in this number, of printing

in colors from a STEEL plate. We believe that we have the only artisans in

this country that can do this kind of fancy work. The present specimen,

which we are willing to contrast with any other plate in any magazine for

this month, is entirely of American manufacture.

* * * *

We will send a copy of the November and December numbers of the Lady's

Book, containing the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, gratis, to any religious

publication with which we do not exchange, if it will signify a wish to

have them.

* * * *

NEW-YEAR'S DAY IN FRANCE.--All who have visited this gay country at the

season of the holidays, will be struck with the graphic power displayed by

our artist in the plate that graces the present number.

* * * *

ORIGINAL DESIGNS.--The four principal plates in this number, viz., The

Constant, The Four Eras of Life, The Four Seasons, and The Double Fashion

Plate, as well as several of the wood engravings, are from original

designs. This originality has never before been attempted in any magazine

of any country. We do not remember an instance of the kind in any of the

English annuals. It is our intention to be ever progressive. Our original

designs last year were numerous: among them the never-to-be-forgotten

Lord's Prayer and Creed. "The Coquette," the match plate to "The Constant,"

will appear in the March number. It will be seen by this number that we are

able to transcend anything we have yet presented. Our Book, this year,

shall be one continuous triumph. As we have only ourselves for a rival, our

effort will be to excel even the well-known versatility and beauty which

our Book has always exhibited.

* * * *

PROFESSOR BLUMENTHAL.--We omitted to include among our list of contributors

this gentleman's name. It was an oversight; but the professor shows, by his

article in this number, that he has not forgotten us.

* * * *

ARTHUR'S STORY.--With but one exception, Mr. Arthur writes for his own

paper alone. The story in this number will amply repay a careful perusal.

It will be completed in the March number.

* * * *

T. S. ARTHUR'S HOME GAZETTE.--In our acquaintance with newspaperdom, as

Willis would say, which extends over a period of twenty-two years, the

history of this paper is the most singular of any in our recollection.

Ample capital was provided to meet any exigency that might arise; but,

strange to say, not a penny of it has been used. But we were too hasty;

for, when we consider who is its editor, it must be confessed it is _not_

strange. The paper has paid for itself from the start. Perhaps another

instance of the kind lives not in the memory of that well-known person,

"the oldest inhabitant." Mr. Arthur now counts his subscribers by

thousands, nearly by tens of thousands. The rush for it has been

unexampled--so much so as to make it necessary to reprint early numbers,

and even to telegraph for extra supplies of paper, so rapidly has it been

exhausted. Mr. Arthur has struck a vein that will render a voyage to

California entirely useless to him. His advertisement will be found in this

number.

* * * *

We will mention one fact, and our subscribers will see the remon of it. We

give no preference as regards the first impressions from the plates. If a

plate wears in the printing, we have it retouched, so that all may have

impressions alike. With our immense edition, the greatest ever known, this

we find sometimes necessary.

* * * *

On reference to our advertisement in this number, it will be seen what is

in store for the subscribers to Godey. When we announce the fact that the

plates are engraved in the same style as those they have seen, "The Lord's

Prayer," "The Evening Star," "The Creed," "We Praise Thee, O God," and

those contained in the present number, they will conclude that a rich treat

is to be obtained for the trifling outlay of $3. Would it not be a

convenient method, where it is difficult to obtain a club of five

subscribers, to remit us $10 for a club of five years? Any person remitting

$10 in advance, will be entitled to the Lady's Book five years. We cannot

forbear inserting the following notices:--

"The Lady's Book is the best, most sociable, and decidedly the richest

magazine for truth, virtue, and literary worth now published in this

country."--_Indiana Gazette._

"In matter of sentiment, and light literature, and elegant embellishments

of useful and ornamental art, Godey's Lady's Book takes the lead of all

works of its class. We have seen nothing in it offensive to the most

fastidious taste."--_Church Quarterly Review and Ecclesiastical Reporter_.

"We find it difficult, without resorting to what would be thought downright

hyperbole, to express adequately the admiration excited by the appearance

of this last miracle of literary and artistic achievement."--_Maine Gospel

Banner_.

The above are unsolicited opinions from grave authorities.

* * * *

NEW MATTER FOR THE WORK TABLE.--The ladies will perceive that they have

been well cared for in this number. We again give, for their benefit, two

new styles of work, "The Chenille Work," and "Knitted Flowers".

THE HAIR WORK will be continued in our next number.

* * * * *

BLITZ HAS ARRIVED.--What joy this will carry into the minds of the young!

Blitz, the conjurer, the kind-hearted Blitz, who dispenses his sugar things

amongst his young friends with such a smile--and they are real sugar

things, too; they don't slip through your fingers, except in the direction

of your mouth, like many of the things he gives the young folks to hold--is

at his old quarters, the Lecture-room at the Museum.

* * * *

A.B. WARDEN, at his jewelry and silver ware establishment, S.E. corner of

Fifth and Chestnut streets, has an immense variety of beautiful and

valuable presents for the season. He is the sole agent for a new style of

watch lately introduced into this country, approved by the Chronometer

Board at the Admiralty, in London, which is warranted. Orders by mail,

including a description of the desired article, will be attended to.

* * * *

The Weber Minstrels is the title assumed by some gentlemen of this city,

who intend to give concerts here and elsewhere. We commend them to our

friends of the press in the various places they may visit. We can speak

confidently of their singing; and we arc sure that, wherever they go, their

manners as gentlemen and their talent as singers will commend them to

public favor.

* * * *

FROM OUR MUSICAL EDITOR.

BERKSHIRE HOTEL, _Pittsfield, Mass._, _Sept. 22, 1850._

MY DEAR GODEY.--You know I do not often _brag_ of _Hotels_, and it is

perhaps out of the line of the "Book." But, in this particular instance, I

know you will excuse me, when I write of a spot in which you would delight.

I wish, in the first place, to introduce you to MR. W.B. COOLEY, the

perfect pink of landlords, wearing a polka cravat and a buff vest,

externally; but he has a heart in his bosom as big as one of the Berkshire

cattle. If you ever come here--and by _you_, I mean the 100,000 subscribers

to the Lady's Book, don't go anywhere else, for _here_ you will find a

home--a regular New England _home_. His table is magnificent--his beds and

rooms all that any one could ask; and his friendly nature will make you

perfectly _at home_. Indeed, it is the only hotel I have been at, on my

protracted tour, where I have felt perfectly _at home_.

How I wish you, and your wife and daughters, and lots of our mutual

friends, were here with me. We would have glorious times--music, dancing,

singing, sight-seeing, conversation, &c. &c. I cannot write much; but I

wish you to understand that this is the _ne plus ultra_ of hotels. Don't

fail to patronize it. Lebanon Springs and the Shaker settlement are within

a short ride.

Yours ever,

J.C.

* * * *

VARIOUS USEFUL RECEIPTS, &c., OF OUR OWN GATHERING.

Rice for curry should never be immersed in water, except that which has

been used for cleaning the grain previous to use. It should be placed in a

sieve and heated by the steam arising from boiling water; the sieve so

placed in the saucepan as to be two or three inches above the fluid. In

stirring the rice a light hand should be used, or you are apt to amalgamate

the grains; the criterion of well-dressed rice being to have the grains

separate.

* * * *

ARROW-ROOT FOR INVALIDS.--The practice of boiling arrow-root in milk is at

once wasteful and unsatisfactory; the best mode of preparing enough for an

invalid's supper is as follows: Put a dessertspoonful of powder, two lumps

of sugar, into a chocolate cup, with a few drops of Malaga, or any other

sweet wine; mix these well together, and add, in small quantities, more

wine, until a smooth thick paste is formed. Pour boiling water, by slow

degrees, stirring all the while, close to the fire, until the mixture

becomes perfectly transparent.

* * * *

CUSTARD OR SPONGE-CAKE PUDDING, WITH FRUIT SAUCE.--Break separately and

clear in the usual way[1] four large or five small fresh eggs, whisk them

until they are light, then throw in a very small pinch of salt, and two

tablespoonfuls of pounded sugar; then whisk them anew until it is

dissolved: add to them a pint of new milk and a slight flavoring of lemon,

orange-flower water, or aught else that may be preferred. Pour the mixture

into a plain well buttered mould or basin, and tie securely over it a

buttered paper and a small square of cloth or muslin rather thickly

floured. Set it into a saucepan or stewpan containing about two inches in

depth of boiling water, and boil the pudding very gently for half an hour

and five minutes at the utmost. It must be taken out directly it is done,

but should remain several minutes before it is dished, and will retain its

heat sufficiently if not turned out for ten minutes or more. Great care

must always be taken to prevent either the writing paper or the cloth tied

over the pudding from touching the water when it is steamed in the manner

directed above, a method which is preferable to boiling, if the preceding

directions be attended to, particularly for puddings of this class. The

corners of the cloth or muslin should be gathered up and fastened over the

pudding; but neither a large nor a heavy cloth should be used for the

purpose at any time. Three or four sponge biscuits may be broken into the

basin before the custard is put in; it must then stand for twenty minutes

or half an hour, to soak them, previously to being placed in a saucepan.

The same ingredients will make an excellent pudding, _if very slowly baked_

for about three quarters of an hour. Four eggs will then be quite

sufficient for it.

[1] That is to say, remove the specks with the point of a fork from each

egg while it is in the cup; but if this cannot be adroitly done, so as to

clear them off perfectly, whisk up the eggs until they are as liquid as

they will become, and then pass them through a hair sieve: after this is

done, whisk them afresh, and add the sugar to them.

* * * *

By particular request we again publish the following receipt:--

NEW RECEIPT FOR A WASHING MIXTURE.

BY MISS LESLIE.

Take two pounds of the best brown soap; cut it up and put it in a clean

pot, adding one quart of clean soft water. Set it over the fire and melt it

thoroughly, occasionally stirring it up from the bottom. Then take it off

the fire, and stir in one tablespoonful of _real_ white wine vinegar; two

large tablespoonfuls of hartshorn spirits; and seven large tablespoonfuls

of spirits of turpentine. Having stirred the ingredients well together, put

up the mixture _immediately_ into a stone jar, and cover it immediately,

lest the hartshorn should evaporate. Keep it always carefully closely

covered. When going to wash, nearly fill a six or eight gallon tub with

soft water, as hot as you can bear your hand in it, and stir in two large

tablespoonfuls of the above mixture. Put in as many white clothes as the

water will cover. Let them soak about an hour, moving them about in the

water occasionally. It will only be necessary to rub with your hands such

parts as are very dirty; for instance, the inside of shirt collars and

wristbands, &c. The common dirt will soak out by means of the mixture.

Wring the clothes out of the suds, and rinse them well through _two_ cold

waters.

Next put into a wash kettle sufficient water to boil the clothes (it must

be cold at first), and add to it two more tablespoonfuls of the mixture.

Put in the clothes after the mixture is well stirred into the water, and

boil them _half an hour_ at the utmost, not more. Then take them out and

throw them into a tub of cold water. Rinse them well through this; and

lastly, put them into a second tub of rinsing water, slightly blued with

the indigo bag.

Be very careful to rinse them in _two_ cold waters out of the first suds,

and after the boiling; then wring them and hang them out.

This way of washing with the soap mixture saves much labor in rubbing;

expedites the business, and renders the clothes very white, without

injuring them in the least. Try it.

* * * *

DESCRIPTION OF STEEL FASHION PLATE.

We challenge comparison in the design and execution, to say nothing of the

accuracy, of our fashion plate. The first is as pretty a home scene as one

could wish, and the costumes are brought in naturally. For instance, the

promenade dress of the visitor, _Fig. 1st_. A plain stone-colored merino,

with green turc satin, a coat or martle made to fit close to the figure,

with sleeves demi-width. The trimming is not a simple quilting, like that

worn the past season, as it would at first appear, but an entirely new

style of silk braid put on in basket-work. Drawn bonnet of apple-green

satin, lined with pink, and, with a small muff, the dress is complete.

_Fig. 2d_ is a morning-dress, that would be very pretty to copy for a

bridal wardrobe. In the engraving, it is represented of pink silk, with an

open corsage, and sleeves demi-long. The chemisette is of lace, to match

that upon the skirt, and is fastened at the throat by a simple knot of pink

ribbon. The trimming of the dress is quilled ribbon, and the cap has a band

and knot of the same color.

_Fig. 3d_ is a mourning costume of silk, with four rows of heavily-knotted

fringe upon the skirt, and the sleeves trimmed to correspond. The figures

of the children are simple and easily understood. The pelisse of the little

girl has an edge to correspond with the muff.

In the second and out-door scene, the artist has very happily given us a

glimpse of sleigh-riding in the city. The pedestrians are tastefully

dressed, the first figure having one of the most graceful cloaks of the

season; it is of stone-colored Thibet cloth, and is trimmed with a fold of

the same corded with satin. The sleeves are peculiar, and deserve

particular attention. The bonnet is of uncut velvet, with satin bands.

The dress of the second figure will be found very comfortable. It is of

thick Mantua silk; trimmed heavily down the entire front breadth. The

sacque, of the same, is lined with quilted white satin, as are the loose

open sleeves. The sleeves of the dress open in a point at the wrist, to

display the undersleeves. The bonnet is a pink casing, with bouquet of

roses.

* * * *

CHIT-CHAT UPON PHILADELPHIA FASHIONS FOR JANUARY.

EVENING DRESS.--Of all the uncomfortable sensations one can experience in

society, that of being over or _under_-dressed is the most uncomfortable.

It fetters your movements, it distracts your thoughts, and makes

conversation next to impossible, unless you have an extraordinary degree of

moral courage. We can speak from experience, and so can any of our lady

readers, we venture to say.

"Come early; there won't be more than half a dozen people," says your

friend, as she flies out of your room at the hotel, after having given you

notice that a few of her intimates are to meet you that evening at her

house. Take her at her word, of course. Go at half past seven, and ten to

one the gas will not be turned on, and your hostess is still at her toilet.

Presently, in she sails, making a thousand apologies at having been

detained, and is so glad that you have kept your promise and come early.

You look at her elaborate toilet, and think your old friend has become

extravagantly fond of dress if this is her reception of half a dozen

people. An hour, almost an hour by the marble time-piece, drags on. Not a

visitor appears. At length, you are refreshed by a faint tinkle of the door

bell. A lady shortly enters, saying, "Don't think me a Goth for coming so

early." After she is introduced to you, a stolen glance at the clock.

Early! It is half-past eight. What time do they intend to come? But now

they arrive faster and faster, and each more elaborately dressed than the

last, it seems to your startled eyes. A triple lace skirt glides in. You

look at your dark green cashmere in dismay. Low neck and short sleeves!

Yours is up to the throat. But you mentally thank your mantua-maker for

inserting undersleeves; they are quite consoling. Dozens of white kid

gloves! You have not even mitts, and your hand is fairly red with the same

blush that suffuses your face. In fine, it is an actual party, dancing,

supper, and all, given to you; and yet there you sit, among entire

strangers dumb from annoyance, and awkward for the first time in many

years, perhaps.

But you will not be caught so again. You are wiser from fearful experience.

A similar invitation is met with an appeal to your very best party dress,

and you go armed _cap-à-pie_, even to white satin slippers. The clock

strikes nine as you enter the room, and there is your truth-loving hostess,

with her half dozen plain guests, who had given you up, and are sorry you

cannot stay long, "as they see you are dressed for a party." Capital

suggestion! Make the most of it, and retire as soon as possible under that

plea.

We appeal to you, ladies, whether this is a fancy sketch; and yet sometimes

it is not the fault of the hostess--you really do not know how you are

expected to arrange your toilet. It is to obviate this evil that we propose

giving a few plain hints on evening dress.

We once knew a very nice lady, who had come to town for the purpose of

taking music lessons. She was entirely unfamiliar with the etiquette of the

toilet, and living at a boarding house, there was no one she felt at entire

liberty to consult. A gentleman invited her to the opera. She was wild with

delight. It was a cold winter's night, and she dressed accordingly. She

wore a dark merino dress and cloak, a heavy velvet bonnet and plumes, and

thick knit gloves, dark also. The gentleman looked astonished, but said

nothing; and imagine her consternation, when she found herself in the

centre of the dress circle, in the midst of unveiled necks and arms, thin

white dresses, and white kid gloves. At once the oddity of her mistake

flashed across her; but she bore it with unparalleled firmness, and enjoyed

the music notwithstanding. The lorgnettes attracted by her costume, found a

very sweet face to repay them, and her naive and enthusiastic criticism

interested her companion so much that he forgot all else.

And how should she have dressed? Cloaks--and what is an opera toilet

without a cloak?--are nothing more than sacques of bright cashmere or

velvet, lined with quilted silk or satin, with loose flowing sleeves. A

shawl is, of course, thrown over this out of doors. One of the prettiest

cloaks of this season was made by Miss Wharton, of black satin, with a hood

lined with Pompadour pink. But cashmere is less expensive, and may be

trimmed with pointed silk or satin, and lined with the same colored silk.

Your dress is not of so much consequence, if it is light, for the cloak

conceals it. But the undersleeves should be very nice, and white kid gloves

are indispensable. A scarf or hood may be worn to the door of the box, and

then thrown over the arm. The hair is dressed with very little ornament

this winter; but, whatever the head-dress adopted, the two chief points are

simplicity and _becomingness_. Dress hats are allowed; but, as they

obstruct the view of others, are not desirable.

Nearly the same dress is proper for a subscription concert, where you are

sure of a large audience; of course, where Jenny Lind is the attraction,

the same thing is certain. All her concerts are _dress_ concerts. But, for

a ballad _soirée_, or the first appearance of any new star, a pretty hat,

with an opera cloak or light shawl, is quite sufficient. For panoramas,

negro minstrels, or evening lectures, an ordinary walking costume is

sufficient, and it would be very bad taste to go with the head uncovered.

A party dress should be regulated by the invitation, in a measure. In

"sociables," the most sensible of all parties, a light silk, mousseline, or

cashmere, is sufficient, with short sleeves and a pretty collar. Gloves are

by no means indispensable, and many prefer black silk mitts. If the number

of invitations exceeds twenty-five, a regular evening dress is expected, as

well as at weddings, receptions, or a dancing party. A full evening costume

we have often described, and shall give some new styles next month.

Of course, we have spoken only of young ladies, a more matronly style being

expected from their chaperons. For instance, caps at the opera or concerts,

a charming variety of which were seen at Miss Wilson's November opening.

Turc satins, velvets, and brocades are to those in place of white tulle or

embroidered crepes. And again, our hints of course are intended for the

city alone, and for the guidance of those who are making that perilous

venture, a "first winter in society."

FASHION.

* * * * *

THE BOOK OF THE NATION.

GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK FOR 1851,

LITERARY AND PICTORIAL,

DEVOTED TO AMERICAN ENTERPRISE, AMERICAN WRITERS, AND AMERICAN ARTISTS.

* * * *

The publisher of the Lady's Book having the ability, as well as the

inclination, to make the best monthly literary, and pictorial periodical in

this country, is determined to show the patrons of magazines to what

perfection this branch of literature can be brought. He has now been

publishing the Lady's Book for twenty-six years and he appeals to his

subscribers and the public whether the "Book" has not improved every year,

and he now pledges his well-earned reputation that, in the MORALITY and

SUPERIORITY of his literature, and in the PURITY and BEAUTY of his

engravings,

THE LADY'S BOOK FOR 1851 SHALL EXCEED EVERY OTHER MAGAZINE.

The literary department will still be conducted by

MRS. SARAH J. HALE,

whose name is now recognized throughout our country as the able champion of

her sex in all that pertains to the proper rights of woman. Arrangements

have been made with other than our well known contributors, and we shall

have the pleasure of adding to the following some writers of great

celebrity, whose names have not yet appeared in the "Book."

Mrs. J.C. Neal,

Mrs. E.F. Ellet,

Enna Duval,

Mrs. E. Oakes Smith,

Mrs. A.F. Law,

The Author of Miss Bremer's Visit to Cooper's Landing,

Mrs. L.G. Abell,

Mrs. O.M.P. Lord,

Kate Berry,

Mrs. S.J. Hale,

F.E.F.,

Mary Spenser Pease,

The Author of "Aunt Magwire,"

Mrs. C.F. Orne,

Mrs. J.H. Campbell,

W. Gilmore Simms,

H.T. Tuckerman,

Park Benjamin,

Hon. R.T. Conrad,

John Neal,

Tom Owen (the Bee Hunter),

Alfred B. Street,

George P. Morris,

Rev. H.H. Weld,

H. Wm. Herbert,

Professor Wm. Alexander,

Professor Alden,

Professor John Frost,

T.S. Arthur,

Richard Coe,

Herman Melville,

Nathl. Hawthorn,

and a host of other names, which our space will not permit us to mention.

In short, no efforts will be wanting to retain for Godey's Lady's Book the

proud title of

THE LEADING PERIODICAL IN AMERICA.

It will be seen that we have commenced furnishing original designs for our

MODEL COTTAGE

department, than which no set of illustrations have ever given more

satisfaction.

THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT

is one that we particularly pride ourselves upon. We have been the first to

give everything new in this line--Crochet Work, Knitting, Netting, Patch

Work, Crochet Flower Work, Leather Work, Hair Braiding, Ribbon Work,

Chenille Work, Lace Collar Work, D'Oyley Watch Safes, Children's and

Infants' Clothes, Caps, Capes, Chemisettes, and, in fact, everything that

we thought would please our readers. In addition, we have also commenced

the publication of

UNDOUBTED RECEIPTS

for Cooking, Removing Stains, and every matter that can interest the head

of a family.

GODEY'S RELIABLE FASHION PLATES.

This department will be under the sole superintendence of a lady--one of

our first modistes--who receives proof sheets of the fashions direct from

Paris, and is intimately connected with the publishers in that city. This

favor is granted to her exclusively. They are arranged, under her

direction, to suit the more subdued taste of American ladies. There is no

other magazine in America that can be equally favored. We have so long led

in this department that the fact would hardly be worth mentioning,

excepting that others claim the merit that has so long been conceded to the

"Book." They will be got up, as usual, in our superior style to the French.

NEW MUSIC, PRINTED SEPARATE

on tinted paper. This is another advantage that Godey possesses over all

others. A gentleman is engaged expressly to attend to this department, and

no music is inserted in the "Book" that has not undergone his strict

supervision.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

In artistic merit, the "Book" will still retain its pre-eminence, and, in

order to show the public wherein our superiority will consist, we give the

titles of some of the plates that we have now on hand ready for use, all of

which will be given in succession. It will be observed that we have, in a

measure, quit the beaten track of copying from engravings, as most of our

plates are from original designs, prepared expressly for the "Book," by

CROOME, ROTHERMEL, TUCKER, PEASE, DALLAS, PETERS, & GILBERT.

Those that are not from original designs, prepared expressly for us, are

from the original painting. Furthermore, the publisher of the "Book" would

state that they are ALL STEEL PLATES, and that there is not a WOOD-CUT

amongst them. We will not deceive by publishing a list of plates without,

at the same time stating whether they are engraved on wood or steel.

It may as well be also stated that Mr. Tucker, our own artist, than whom no

one stands higher in America, has been in London for more than a year, and

all his plates are now finished. One series of our plates in line engraving

will be

CONSTANCY AND COQUETRY,

done in a style to defy any imitation in mezzotint,

GOOD COUNSEL AND EVIL COUNSEL,

DRESS THE MAKER AND DRESS THE WEARER

* * * * *

[Illustration]

THE VALENTINES.

The fires of February lit the hearth,

And shone with welcome lustre on the brows

Of two most lovely maidens, as they sat

Expecting, in their heart of hearts, the notes

Called "_Valentines_," that February brings

Upon its fourteenth day, to tell, in rhyme,

All fair and gentle ladies whether they

Have made new conquests, or have kept the old

As fresh as new-blown roses in the hearts

Of their admiring slaves. One of the girls

(Laughing and lovely was she), ever won

High hearts to do her bidding, dreaming it

No sin that _all_ should yield her love and homage,

Yet was no trifling, passionless coquette.

Her winning beauty was the standing toast

Of the wide neighborhood, and serenades

From many a gallant woke the sleeping echoes

Beneath her window, and her name was like

The silvery pealing of a tinkling bell;

(Perhaps 'tis yours, fair reader,) "Clairinelle."

May sat beside her with a graver air,

Something more matronly controlled her mien;

Yet was she not a sighing "sentimentalist,"

But, like her cousin Cary, could be gay:

Two Valentines had come for these fair girls,

Which made the dimpled smiles show teeth like pearls

Pray, read those tender missives--here they are--

CLAIRINELLE'S VALENTINE.

The maiden I love is the fairest on earth,

Her laugh is the clear, joyous music of mirth;

I think of the angels whenever she sings--

She's a seraph from Heaven, but folding her wings.

The least little act that she doeth is kind;

Her goodness all springs from a beautiful mind.

I love her much more than I know how to tell;

Let her do what she will, it is always done well:

Her voice is the murmur the mild zephyr makes

As it steals through the forest and ruffles the lakes:

Her eyes are so gentle, so calm, and so blue,

That I'm sure that she's constant, and trusting, and true:

Her features are delicate, classic, and pure:

Her hair is light chestnut, and I'm almost sure

That the sunbeams that bathe it can't set themselves free:

Her teeth are like pearls from the depths of the sea.

A bee in a frolic once stung her red lip,

And left there the honey he hastened to sip:

Let her go where she will, she is always the belle,

And her name, her sweet name, is the fair Clairinelle.

MAY'S VALENTINE.

MY UNSENTIMENTAL COUSIN:--

The moon was half bewildered by the vexing clouds

That did beset her in her path serene,

Veiling her beauty with their envious shrouds,

Hiding her glorious, most majestic mien.

There was a depth of silence in the night--

A mist of melancholy in the air--

And the capricious beams of Dian's light

Gave something mystic to the scene most fair.

I gave my cousin Dante's divine "Inferno,"

_Imploring_ her to read _il primo canto_.

"Lo giorno s'andava," she drawled; but, tired of plodding,

Directly fell asleep, and pretty soon--_was nodding_!!

"Cousin, sweet cousin," cried I out, "awake!

I long for sympathy--compassion on me take:

They say yon stars are worlds--dost think 'tis so?"

"Really, my--dear (_a yawn_), I--don't exactly know."

"Cousin," said I, "upon a night like this,

Back to the heart steal distant memories

From out the vista of the waning past"--

"Harry, I've caught the horrid fly at last!"

Shades of the angry Muses! worse and worse!

She disappears!--is gone!--_to knit a crochet purse_!!

"Cousin, come back again!" in vain I cried;

Echo (the mocking-bird!) _alone_ replied.

CARA.

* * * * *

CORNERS FOR POCKET HANDKERCHIEFS.

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* * * * *

BIRTHDAY OF THE YEAR

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