The brood of Folly, without father bred!
How little you bested,
Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toys!
Dwell in some idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shape possess,
As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the sunbeams,
Or likest hovering dreams,
The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train.
But hail! thou Goddess sage and holy,
Hail, divinest Melancholy!"
Lorenzo's statue stands in a niche above the sarcophagus, or stone
coffin, in which his body was laid. On the top of the sarcophagus are
two reclining figures called Dawn and Twilight. The tomb itself is in
a chapel, or sacristy, called the New Sacristy (to distinguish it from
one still older), in the Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence. The entire
sacristy is devoted to the memory of the Medici family, who had for
several generations been benefactors of this church.
Now Michelangelo had a great deal to do with this family first and
last, and his work on the tomb has an additional interest on this
account. It was to Lorenzo the Magnificent that he owed his first
start as a sculptor in an academy founded by this prince. He so
pleased his patron that he was received into the duke's own household,
and treated almost like a son. Years passed; Lorenzo had long been
dead, when, one after another, two members of the same family came to
the papal throne, and they desired to honor their name by employing
the greatest sculptor of Italy in this monumental work.
So Michelangelo began designs for the sacristy, the entire decoration
of which was intrusted to him. The walls of the rooms were panelled
with marble, set with niches, in the form of windows, in which the
statues were to be placed.
As the work proceeded, it was interrupted by some strange incidents,
of which we shall hear later. The whole plan was never fully carried
out, but in spite of incompleteness the chapel is a grand and
impressive place.
XIV
THE TOMB OF GIULIANO DE' MEDICI
The tomb of Giuliano de' Medici is the companion to the tomb of
Lorenzo, and stands on the opposite side of the altar which separates
them. Our illustration shows the entire work, the statue being in the
niche above, and the sarcophagus standing below with two reclining
figures on it.
Giuliano de' Medici, duke of Nemours, was the youngest son of Lorenzo
the Magnificent, and consequently the uncle of the younger Lorenzo. In
reality he was greatly superior to his nephew, but curiously enough
his appearance in Michelangelo's statue is more commonplace, though
his attitude is graceful. He was a thoughtful man, somewhat melancholy
in disposition, and the author of a poem on suicide. He wears the
costume of a Roman general, but his small head and slender throat are
not those of a warrior.
You will notice that the attitude of the duke Giuliano is somewhat
similar to that of Moses. Both sit with left foot drawn back and right
knee extended. Both turn the head in profile, looking intently toward
the left. In either case it is easy to imagine the figure suddenly
springing up.
Now this fact emphasizes the difference we have already noted between
the sculpture of Michelangelo and that of the Greeks. The leading idea
in Greek sculpture was that of repose, while, as we have seen in the
David and the Cupid, Michelangelo chose for his figures a moment of
action. To give this suggestion of motion to a seated figure is even
more remarkable than in the case of one standing, for the sitting
posture naturally has an effect of stability.
The reclining figures on the sarcophagus of the Duke Giuliano
represent Night and Day, and are supposed to be symbolic of death and
resurrection. Night is a woman lying with head sunk upon the breast in
a deep sleep. She is crowned with a crescent moon and star, and an owl
is placed at her feet. The mask beneath her pillow symbolizes the body
from which the spirit has departed. Though the figure is not beautiful
in the Greek sense, it is grand and queenly. Opposite is Day, an
unfinished captive, his head half freed from the stone, the arms
rigid, the body contorted.
These two figures, together with Dawn and Twilight on Lorenzo's tomb,
have an allegorical meaning which must be read in the light of
Michelangelo's own life history. "Life is a dream between two
slumbers; sleep is death's twin-brother; night is the shadow of death;
death is the gate of life--such is the mysterious mythology wrought by
the sculptor."[31]
[Footnote 31: Symonds, in _Renaissance in Italy: the Fine Arts_.]
The work on the Medicean tombs covered a period of about twelve years.
During this time the Medici family passed through varying fortunes,
and in consequence the fate of the tombs, and indeed that of the
sculptor himself, hung in the balance. Florence became weary of
tyranny and rose in a revolution which drove the Medici from the city
in 1527.
[Illustration: TOMB OF GIULIANO DE' MEDICI. _Church of S. Lorenzo,
Florence._]
Success was of short duration: the republic soon "found herself
standing out against a world of foes," the Pope, Clement VII. (himself
a Medici), "threatening fire and flame," and all the Medici family
"getting ready to return in double force." The Florentines prepared to
fight for their liberty, and Michelangelo was found among the
patriots. No sense of personal gratitude to the Medici could shake his
love of liberty. He forsook the monuments and turned his skill to the
fortification of the city.
For eleven months Florence was besieged, and in the end the city was
captured. The Medici returned conquerors. Mercenaries now broke into
the houses, killing the best citizens. Had not Michelangelo been in
hiding, he too would have perished. But the Pope could not afford to
lose his best sculptor, and, calling him forth from his hiding-place,
again set him to work in the Medici chapel. It is not strange that the
sculptor's proud spirit rebelled at having to work on that which was
to honor the enemies of his beloved Florence.
Thus it was that his sculpture told the story of "the tragedy of
Florence: how hope had departed, how life had become a desert, and how
it was hard to struggle with waking consciousness, but good to sleep
and forget--nay, best of all, to be stone and feel no more."
The old writer Vasari, who was once a pupil of Michelangelo, and tells
us many anecdotes of the sculptor, relates that when the statue of
Night was first shown to the public, it called forth a verse from a
contemporary poet (Giovan Battista Strozzi). This is the verse:--
"Night in so sweet an attitude beheld
Asleep, was by an angel sculptured
In this stone; and sleeping, is alive;
Waken her, doubter; she will speak to thee."[32]
To this Michelangelo replied in the following lines:[33]--
"Welcome is sleep, more welcome sleep of stone
Whilst crime and shame continue in the land;
My happy fortune not to see or hear;
Waken me not;--in mercy whisper low."[32]
The artist's verse may be taken as a keynote to the solemn tragedy of
the work. In fact, the monuments are not really to Lorenzo and
Giuliano, but to Florence, to "the great city which had struggled and
erred so long, which had gone astray and repented, and suffered and
erred again, but always mightily, with full tide of life in her veins
and consciousness in her heart, until now the time had come when she
was dead and past, chained down by icy oppression in a living
grave."[34]
[Footnote 32: Both translations are from Horners' _Walks in Florence_.
Symonds has also translated the verses, but less literally.]
[Footnote 33: Swinburne in his lines, "In San Lorenzo," answers these
lines, "Is thine hour come to waken, slumbering Night?"]
[Footnote 34: This and the preceding quotations are from Mrs.
Oliphant's _Makers of Florence_.]
XV
CENTRAL FIGURES IN THE LAST JUDGMENT
There are in the Bible certain references to a great day when the Son
of Man shall be seen "coming in the clouds with great power and
glory." "And he shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet,
and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one
end of heaven to the other."[35] St. Paul, in a letter which he wrote
to the Christians in Corinth, speaks of this as a "mystery," and
says:[36] "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet
shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall
be changed."
[Footnote 35: Matthew, chapter xxiv. verse 31.]
[Footnote 36: 1 Corinthians, chapter xv. verses 51, 52.]
In the Middle Ages these passages were interpreted very literally and
had a great influence over the people. At that time the Christian
religion was a religion of fear rather than of love, and men were
continually picturing in their minds God's angry separation of the
good from the wicked.
How much such thoughts occupied them we may see from Dante's great
poem describing a vision of the Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise.
This was written in the thirteenth century, and in the same period
appeared a short Latin lyric, or hymn, called "Dies Irae," or the Day
of Wrath, from an expression used by the old Hebrew prophet Zephaniah.
The author was a Franciscan monk named Thomas of Celano, and we may
see how deeply he felt from these verses:--
"Ah! what terror is impending
When the Judge is seen descending,
And each secret veil is rending.
"To the throne, the trumpet sounding,
Through the sepulchres resounding,
Summons all, with voice astounding.
"Sits the Judge, the raised arraigning,
Darkest mysteries explaining,
Nothing unavenged remaining."
This vivid word picture forms the subject of many great paintings by
the older Italian masters, known under the title of the Last Judgment.
Michelangelo's was one of the last of these, and in general
arrangement his composition resembles those of his predecessors.
From the upper air a company of angels descends, carrying a cross, a
crown of thorns, and other instruments of the Saviour's sufferings.
Below them is the Judge himself surrounded by the apostles and other
saints. Underneath are the archangels blowing their trumpets. On
earth, in the lowest part of the picture at the left, the dead rise
from their graves and ascend through the air to the Judge. At the
right, opposite the ascending dead, are the condemned sinners,
descending to the boat which will carry them over the river Styx into
the Inferno.
[Illustration: CENTRAL FIGURES OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. _Sistine Chapel,
Rome._]
Our illustration gives only the central figures in this great
multitude, the Divine Judge accompanied by his mother. He is a man of
mighty muscular power, young and handsome, with an expression of
imperious dignity. Enthroned on the clouds, he seems just rising from
a sitting posture to execute his judgments. He lifts his arms in a
sweeping motion as if to part the multitudes pressing upon him on both
sides. In so doing he shows the wound in his right side made by the
soldier's spear at the crucifixion. Neither expression nor gesture
manifests anger; those beautiful hands with delicately extended
fingers will strike no blow. The gesture itself is a command.
Beneath Christ's upraised arm, on his right side, sits his Mother
Mary. Each must interpret for himself her attitude and expression.
Some think that because she turns her face away she is shrinking from
her son in terror. Yet her expression is so gentle that others say she
is nestling close to him for protection. This is certainly as we
should imagine the situation. When she was a young mother, she was
proud to take care of her child. And now on this great day she is
equally proud to let him take care of her. As he clung to her, his
mother, so she now clings to him, the Judge.
Looking at the composition of the picture, we see that her figure
completes a pyramid, whose apex is the uplifted hand of the Judge,
and whose base lies along the cloud supporting his feet and hers. This
gives proper stability to the figures which dominate the whole great
picture. Considered in a larger way, the pyramid is itself the upper
part of a long oval which keeps the central group apart from the
surrounding host.
The picture of the Last Judgment was painted by Michelangelo on the
end wall of the Sistine Chapel, over the altar, nearly twenty years
after the completion of the ceiling frescoes. There is a great
difference between the two works. The figures on the ceiling are
strong and powerful, their attitudes spirited and graceful. Those in
the Last Judgment are huge and cumbersome, their attitudes strained
and violent. The entire effect of the vast company of colossal figures
is awe-inspiring, but not pleasing.
It is a relief to fix our eyes upon the central portion. Here the
painter expressed an idea at once noble and original. The figure of
the Christ has not the delicate beauty of the dead Christ in the
Pietà, or the finished elegance of the Christ Triumphant, but he has
the splendid vigor of a forceful character. The Mother, less grand and
noble than in the bereavement of the Pietà, less proud than in her
young motherhood, is a gentle and lovely creature. Thus the intensely
masculine is completed by the delicately feminine, and the artist
shows us ideal types of manhood and womanhood.
XVI
PORTRAIT
In the pictures of this collection we have learned something of the
work of Michelangelo as a sculptor and a painter. He was an artist
whose personality was so strongly impressed upon his work that we have
come thus to know, to a certain extent, the man himself. His, as we
have seen, was not a happy nature, and many of the circumstances of
his life conspired against his happiness.
In his early youth he seemed strangely aware of his own superior gifts
and was often so overbearing that he made enemies. The story is told
of a quarrel he had with a young man named Torrigiano, in whose
company he was copying some frescoes in a church in Florence. Stung by
some tormenting words of Michelangelo, Torrigiano retaliated with a
blow of the fist, which crushed his companion's nose, and disfigured
him for life.
Michelangelo's real education began in the palace of Lorenzo the
Magnificent, who discovered the lad's talent and made him a favorite.
"He sat at the same table with Ficino, Pico, and Poliziano, listening
to dialogues on Plato, and drinking in the golden poetry of Greece.
Greek literature and philosophy, expounded by the men who had
discovered them, first moulded his mind to those lofty thoughts which
it became the task of his life to express in form. At the same time he
heard the preaching of Savonarola. In the Duomo and the cloister of S.
Marco another portion of his soul was touched, and he acquired that
deep religious tone which gives its majesty and terror to the
Sistine."[37] In the gardens of S. Marco he had Lorenzo's fine
collection of antiquities to study, and learned from them the secrets
of Greek sculpture.
[Footnote 37: Symonds, in _Renaissance in Italy: The Fine Arts_.]
In all these opportunities it would seem that Michelangelo was a most
fortunate person. Nor did he lack proper appreciation; the PietÃ
placed him at once on a pinnacle of fame, and the David was heartily
admired.
It was when he entered the service of the Pope that his troubles
began. He was never thereafter a free man. His genius was at the
disposition of a series of men, each ambitious for his own fame, and
caring little for the artist's personal aspirations. His proud nature
was bitterly humiliated by this sacrifice of his independence.
Sometimes he openly rebelled, but in the end was always obliged to
yield to papal authority.
Michelangelo's sternly upright spirit found also much to sadden him in
the corruption of the times. He was a lover of righteousness as well
as a lover of liberty, and he greatly mourned the evils which
surrounded him.
One of the pleasantest traits in his character was his warm affection
for the members of his family and for the few whom he honored with his
friendship. One of the latter was Vittoria Colonna, a woman of strong
and beautiful character, who brought much brightness into his life.
Our portrait shows him somewhat past middle life when occupied with
many important concerns. We can read in the face something of the
character of the man. It is certainly not a handsome face, for any
good looks he might once have boasted were destroyed by his broken
nose. It is nevertheless a face full of rugged strength, with not a
little kindliness in the expression. Here is a man whose enmity we
should avoid, but whose friendship we should value above rubies.
It is the face of a lonely man. Michelangelo had to suffer the
loneliness of genius. No one could fully understand him. He stood
apart, towering like a giant above his fellow men.
On the four hundredth anniversary of Michelangelo's birthday, some
verses were written by an American poet, Christopher Cranch, which one
should read while looking at this portrait:--
"This is the rugged face
Of him who won a place
Above all kings and lords;
Whose various skill and power
Left Italy a dower
No numbers can compute, no tongue translate in words.
"Patient to train and school
His genius to the rule
Art's sternest laws required;
Yet, by no custom chained,
His daring hand disdained
The academic forms by tamer souls admired.
"In his interior light
Awoke those shapes of might
Once known that never die;
Forms of titanic birth,
The elder brood of earth,
That fill the mind more grandly than they charm the eye.
"Yet when the master chose,
Ideal graces rose
Like flowers on gnarled boughs;
For he was nursed and fed
At beauty's fountain head
And to the goddess pledged his earliest warmest vows."
The poet describes still further the artist's character, and then
enumerates some of his great works. Whatever occupied him--
"Still proudly poised, he stepped
The way his vision swept,
And scorned the narrower view.
He touched with glory all
That pope or cardinal,
With lower aim than his, allotted him to do.
* * * * *
"So stood this Angelo
Four hundred years ago;
So grandly still he stands,
Mid lesser worlds of art,
Colossal and apart,
Like Memnon breathing songs across the desert sands."
PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS
The Diacritical Marks given are those found in the latest edition of
Webster's International Dictionary.
EXPLANATION OF DIACRITICAL MARKS.
A Dash (¯) above the vowel denotes the long sound, as in fāte, ēve,
tīme, nōte, ūse.
A Dash and a Dot (-̇) above the vowel denote the same sound, less
prolonged.
A Curve (˘) above the vowel denotes the short sound, as in ădd, ĕnd,
ĭll, ŏdd, ŭp.
A Dot ( ̇) above the vowel a denotes the obscure sound of a in pȧst,
ȧbāte, Amĕricȧ.
A Double Dot (¨) above the vowel a denotes the broad sound of a in
fäther, älms.
A Double Dot (..) below the vowel a denotes the sound of a in ba̤ll.
A Wave (~) above the vowel e denotes the sound of e in hẽr.
A Circumflex Accent (^) above the vowel o denotes the sound of o in bôrn.
ç sounds like s.
c̵ sounds like k.
ṣ̱ sounds like z.
ḡ is hard as in ḡet.
ġ is soft as in ġem.
̇
Ạdō´nĭs.
Æneas (ē̇ nē´ăs); Æneid (ē̇ nē´ĭd).
Ăm´ȧzŏn.
Ăm´brōsṣe.
Ăn´ȧthŏth.
Anchises (ăn kī´sēz).
Ăn´nō Dŏm´ĭnī.
Ạpŏl´lō.
Ăp´pĭȧn.
Ărĭmȧthē´ȧ.
Babylon (băb´ĭ lŭn); Băby̆lō´nĭȧn.
Bärbärŏs´sä.
Bärġ´lō.
Beethoven (bā´tō vŭn).
Bĕlshăz´zȧr.
Bĕth´lēhĕm.
Bĕth-pē´ôr.
Bramante (brä män´tā̇).
Bugiardini (bōō jär dē´nē̇).
Buonarroti (bōō ō när rŏt´ē̇).
Canaan (kā´nȧn _or_ kā´nā̇ ȧn).
Cärrä´ra.
Celano (chā̇ lä´nō).
Cencio, Bernardo (bẽr när´dō̇ chĕn´chē ō̇).
Chaldean (kăl dē´ȧn).
Colonna, Vittoria (vē̇t tō´rē̇ ä kō lŏn´nä).
Condivi (kō̇n dē´vē̇).
Cosimo (kō̇´zē̇ mō).
Cristo Risorto (krēs´tō̇ rē̇ zôr´tō̇).
Cumæ (kū´mē).
Cyrus (sī´rŭs).
Daniel (dăn´yĕl _or_ dăn´ĭ ĕl).
Dăn´tē̇.
Daphne (dăf´nē).
Dȧrĭ´ŭs.
Dē´lĭȧn.
Delphi (dĕl´fī).
Dē´mŏs.
Dies Iræ (dē´ās ē´rī _or_ dī´ēz ī´rē).
Dionigi, di San (dē sän dē̇ ō̇ nē´jē̇).
Domine, quo vadis (dō´mē nā̇, kwō wä´dĭs _or_ dŏm´ī nē̇, kwō vā´dĭs).
Doni, Angelo (än´jā lō dō´nē̇).
Douay (dōō ā´).
Duomo (dōō ō´mō).
E´rŏs.
Febbre, della (dĕl´lä fēb´brā̇).
Ficino (fē̇ chē'nō).
Franciscan (frăn sĭs'kȧn).
Frizzi, Federigo (fā̇ dā̇ rē'ḡō̇ frēt'sē̇).
Gíovanní (jō̇ vän'nē̇).
Giuliano (jōō lē̇ ä'nō).
Gōlī'ȧth
Gotti (ḡŏt'tē̇).
Gualfonda (gwäl fŏn'dä).
Hĕl'lĕspŏnt.
Huguenot (hū'ḡēnŏt).
Infẽr'nō.
Isaiah (ī zā'yȧ).
Israel (ĭz'rā̇ ĕl).
Jameson (jā'mĕ sŭn).
Jēhoí'ȧkĭm.
Jĕrē̇mī'ȧh.
Jerome (jē̇ rōm' _or_ jĕr'ŏm).
Jĕrū'sȧlĕm.
Jē'thrō.
Jōsī'ȧh.
Judæa (jū̇ dē̇'ȧ).
Jū'dȧh.
Jū'pĭtẽr.
Kugler (kōōg'lẽr).
Lăz'ȧrŭs.
Lē̇ăn'dẽr.
Lŏm'bȧrdṣ̱
Măg'dā̇lē̇ne.
Mē'dĭȧn.
Medici (mā'dē̇ chē̇).
Mĕm'nŏn.
Mē'nē̇.
Michelangelo (mē kĕl än'jā̇ lō).
Mĭd'ĭȧn,
Milan (mĭl'ȧn _or_ mĭ lăn').
Milanesi (mē̇ lä nā'zē̇).
Mō'ăb.
Morpheus (môr'fūs).
Năz'ȧrĕth.
Nē'bō.
Nebuchadnezzar (nĕb ū kăd nĕz'zăr).
Nemour (nĕ mōōr').
Nē'rō.
Oliphant (ŏl'ĭ fȧnt).
Palazzo Vecchio (pä lät'sō̇ vĕk'kē̇ ō̇).
Păl'ĕstīne.
Pater Patriæ (pä'tār pä'trē̇ ī _or_ pā'tẽr pā'trĭ ē).
Pausanias (pa̤ā'nĭ ăs).
Pensiero, Il (ēl pĕn sē̇ ā'rō̇);
Pensieroso (pĕn sē̇ ā̇ rō'zō̇).
Pharaoh (fā'rō̇).
Phĭlĭs'tĭne.
Piazza della Signoria (pē̇ ät'sä dĕl'lä sē̇n yō̇ rē'ä).
Pico (pē'kō).
Pietà (pē̇ ā̇ tä').
Pietro in Vincoli (pē̇ ā'trō̇ ēn vēn'kō̇ lē̇).
Pitti, Bartolommeo (bär tō̇ lŏm mā'ō̇ pē̇t'tē̇).
Plā'tō.
Poliziano (pō̇ lē̇t sē̇ ä'nō̇)
py̆th'ĭ ȧ.
Raphael (rä'fā ĕl).
Rucellai (rōō chĕl lä'ē̇).
Săc'rĭsty̆.
Santarelli (sän tä rĕl'lē̇).
Savonarola (sä vō̇ nä rō'lä).
Scappuci, Mario (mä'rē̇ ō̇ skäp pōō'chē̇).
Sĕs'tŏs.
Sĭb'y̆l.
Sĭm'ē̇ŏn.
Sistine (sĭs'tēn).
Solari, Cristoforo (krē̇s tŏf'ō̇ rō̇ sō̇ lä'rē̇).
Stabat Mater (stā'băt mā'tẽr _or_ stä'bät mä'tār).
Strozzi, Giovan Battista (jō̇ vän' bät tēs'tä strŏt'sē̇).
Sty̆x.
Swĭn'bŭrne.
Sy̆m'ŏndṣ̱.
Tarquin (tär'kwĭn).
tē'kĕl.
terribilità (tĕr rē̇ bē̇ lē̇ tä').
Torrigiano (tôr rē̇ jä'nō̇).
Uffizi (ōōf fēt'sē̇).
Upharsin (ū̇ fär'sĭn).
Urbano, Pietro (pē̇ ā'trō̇ ōōr bä'nō̇).
Urbino (ōōr bē'nō̇).
Varj dei Porcari, Metello (mā̇ tĕl'lō̇ vä'rē̇ dā' ē̇ pôr kä'rē̇).
Vasari (vä sä'rē̇).
Vatican (văt'ĭ kȧn).
Virgil (vẽr'jĭl).
Vŭl'gāte.
Zĕdē̇kī'ȧh.
Zephaniah (zĕf ȧ nī'ȧ).
AUTHORS' PORTRAITS
FOR SCHOOL USE
_Sample of the portraits in "Masterpieces of American Literature" and
"Masterpieces of British Literature," described on the second page of
this circular._
[Illustration: Oliver Wendell Holmes.]
PORTRAITS OF AUTHORS
AND PICTURES OF THEIR HOMES
_FOR THE USE OF PUPILS IN THE STUDY OF LITERATURE_
We have received so many calls for portraits of authors and pictures
of their homes suitable for class and note-book use in the study of
reading and literature, that we have decided to issue separately the
twenty-nine portraits contained in "Masterpieces of American
Literature" and "Masterpieces of British Literature," and the homes of
eight American authors as shown in the Appendix to the _newly revised_
edition of "Richardson's Primer of American Literature."
PORTRAITS
_AMERICAN._
BRYANT.
EMERSON.
EVERETT.
FRANKLIN.
HAWTHORNE.
HOLMES.
IRVING.
LONGFELLOW.
LOWELL.
O'REILLY.
THOREAU.
WEBSTER.
WHITTIER.
_BRITISH._
ADDISON.
BACON.
BROWN.
BURNS.
BYRON.
COLERIDGE.
COWPER.
DICKENS.
GOLDSMITH.
GRAY.
LAMB.
MACAULAY.
MILTON.
RUSKIN.
TENNYSON.
WORDSWORTH.
HOMES OF AUTHORS
BRYANT.
EMERSON.
HAWTHORNE.
HOLMES.
LONGFELLOW.
LOWELL.
STOWE.
WHITTIER.
_Sold only in lots of ten or more, assorted as desired._
Ten, assorted, postpaid, 20 cents.
Each additional one in the same package, 1 cent.
In lots of 100 or more, assorted, 1 cent each, postpaid.
_For mutual convenience please send a remittance with each order.
Postage stamps taken._
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
4 PARK STREET, BOSTON; 11 EAST 17TH STREET, NEW YORK:
378-388 WABASH AVENUE, CHICAGO.
ORNAMENTS
FOR SCHOOL-ROOMS
_THE ATLANTIC LIFE-SIZE PORTRAITS_
Of Whittier, Lowell, Emerson, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Holmes, Bryant.
Size, 24 by 30 inches. Lithographs, $1.00, _net_, each, postpaid.
Teachers' price, 85 cents, _net_, each, postpaid.
_MASTERPIECES PORTRAITS._
For descriptions and prices see other pages of this circular.
_HOMES OF AMERICAN AUTHORS_.
For descriptions and prices see other pages of this circular.
_LONGFELLOW'S RESIDENCE_.