the exercises sometimes by essays, assigning subjects covering something that had been read. It was difficult at first to get persons to write, and there were one or two we never could prevail upon to do so. They felt they were not able to do it. In one or two cases where they did write they brought me the papers and asked me to read them for them. Sometimes we conducted the exercises by asking questions generally, not individually. The difficulty we had was, not a majority of the class would answer. There were those who could answer, and did, because they were very thorough in their reading, and others who were not so thoroughly prepared hesitated from that fact.. In the History of the World, for instance, after we had gone through a portion of it I would have a blackboard outline of the part read, so as to bring it back before our minds. When I went to Methenen I found they had had no essays or anything of that kind. The exercises had been direct questions, just as a teacher would go before a class in school, questioning around in order on all that had been read, everyone answering questions. When I found how ready they were in their answers I was surprised to think they could do so well, while the class in Manchester, that was quite equal to it in general intelligence, was not willing to undertake the work in that way. I found they had read thoroughly and carefully, and were able to answer questions readily. But when we undertook to have essays it almost frightened them to death. A LADY: In our circle we divided the work between the officers, each one taking a certain subject. The usual plan this year has been for the one having the subject in charge to prepare the questions beforehand and drop them into the query box, and they would be distributed. Where the subjects would not permit of that, we have been fortunate enough in nearly every case to have some one take charge of the lesson for us. When we had the subject of Physiology we had a physician take charge of the lesson, and he made it very interesting. In Cincinnati this last year, we had a course of lectures. We have there twelve English circles and one German circle. Our meetings closed in May with a reunion. This year we have also planned a lecture course. They are free to all. We have them in the churches of the various denominations, and in the Y. M. C. A. Hall. I do not know how all circles keep the Memorial Days. Some we keep and some we pass over. The Memorial Days of the Circle have given rise to the celebration of poets' days in our public schools. Our superintendent knew we kept them, and thought it would be a good plan to have the children celebrate them. It has made quite a revolution in the schools of Cincinnati. It is surprising to see children who live in all sorts of homes and places recite ten, and fifteen, and twenty lines from Longfellow, and understand them too. A LADY: Our circle is a small one, but we have all read the required reading. The lesson was given out so as to enable us to read it carefully. Then it was divided up so that each one should have a certain portion to give the principal thoughts contained in it. We were all middle-aged people who went into the class, and we had not been accustomed to writing essays. We lured them into it by getting them to take a character and asking them to write the birth, death, and age, if nothing more. That was about all they would do at first. But now it is a great privilege to every one, and they all want to write. We generally have three or four essays each meeting. To give you a fact in regard to the Memorial Days, when Addison's day came around there was but one or two knew anything about him. We had an essay concerning him, and I supposed they would all remember Addison the next year. But when it was announced some one said: "Who was Addison? What country did he belong to?" We then had three essays on Addison. This year they all remembered him and wanted to write an essay. DR. EATON: I would say in regard to the Memorial Days, that we do not observe them very strictly, but we observe them on the day of meeting nearest to that day. Sometimes they occur on that day, and sometimes they do not. A VOICE: I was a member of a circle in Fredericktown. Ohio, for two years. Ours was the class of 1882. We averaged about sixteen members. We had, and still have, as one of our members a man who is in his ninety-fifth year. He has carried the reading through so far, and I hope he will live to graduate next year, and if so we propose to honor the old gentleman. Our circle did much in stirring up a great many young people who would not do any reading otherwise. I bought as many books for those who were reading a part as for those who read the whole. MISS WASHBURN: We have a great variety of work in our local circles on the Pacific coast. The most successful work has perhaps been done in the circle at San Jose, a place of about fifteen thousand people. There we have I suppose one hundred members. Our work was divided so that we have a kind of ring within a ring. There are neighborhood circles varying from five to twenty members that hold weekly meetings for the discussion of the lesson and drills. We found that set questions are not as valuable as topical ones. In San Francisco they had a written set of questions by means of the electric pen, but we found topical questions better. Those were generally prepared by members in turn. Then we had general meetings once a month in which we had lectures, essays and the like. Our monthly meetings were delightful. We tried to bring out all the variety of talent we had, and people whom we thought had nothing to give us we found sometimes the most valuable of all. When busy upon Roman history we had a very fine large map of Rome which had been brought home by an architect who had spent some months studying the buildings of Rome. He gave an evening with us, and we received more information about Rome than from any of the books. In studying history the first year we asked one of the professors in the normal school to give us a lecture, and we had a course of about eight lectures on astronomy, so when Professor Proctor arrived we were ready to enjoy his lectures, and we did not feel at all ashamed of our local course. THE FLOWER OF LOVE. 'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower, SOME REGRETFUL WORDS. Last night, when I laid down the month's reading course for the Chautauqua Young Folks' Reading Union (in WideAwake for January) it was with a most bitter sigh. If the Chautauqua movement had only come in my day, my day of active work, my time of "bringing up children!" The mothers of my generation had little to do with the intellectual training of the children. If it could have been made possible and easy for me to have read history with my young folks, following the action of any one spring of human progress, as the "Magna Charta Stories" of the C. Y. F. R. U. course this year reveal what the love of personal liberty has done for the world--if I could have been startled into energetic reflection concerning my own health habits and my children's, by such articles as Dr. Mary Safford's "Health and Strength" papers, and we have discussed her ideas in the family circle-if it could have been suggested to me that there was a remedy for my daughters' restlessness and ennui and discontent, in working with them in simple ways, with simple means, to make their own special rooms cozy and attractive, as Mrs. Power, in the reading course, describes in her "Ways to do Things for a Girl's Room"-if the whole household could have been brought together over these pleasures with maps and globes, workbaskets and carpenter's tools, with natural history studies and the means of correspondence with wise advisers, ah, what a different thing I could have made of our family life! I could but wish that I might see every member of the C. L. S. C. and ask if they had taken up their personal share of duty in the Chautauqua movement for the children and young folks; if they had brought it into their own households, as Dr. Vincent intended. To most women, by forty years at the latest, comes a time of regret, regret indescribably poignant, and rarely cònfessed. It is over the might-have-beens of home, of the family life. We might have been so much, so dear, such comforts, so cheery companions for the father and mother who have gone into the silent land, whither we may not follow with our late love and longings. How lonely they often must have been, and how much we might have shared with them! Or else, our own children have grown away from us, and the loneliness is our own. They left us, they went their own bright, adventurous ways. We did not go on with them. Ah, if we had it all to do over again, now differently we would do it! We ourselves would not stop growing-what a mistake that was. We would enter all the golden gates of the changing years hand in hand with them. They never should feel they must go into other homes for cheer and sympathy and gladness. Then, children were so dear, clinging so close to us mothers in the early years-not a trouble, not a want they did not come to us with. When did they feel the first lack in us? What carelessness or indifference was it that first sent the child away by itself to brood over its puzzle, or its grief, in solitude; or else across the home threshold to find a new friend? books, and talk about them, and choose by the voice of the whole family? Why did we not plan and save so as to have "book money" every year? Why did it never occur to us to be at some pains-delightful pains-to learn about different authors, to make collections of biographical and critical facts about them, to make this a pleasant work for all the family, so that without great conscious effort a fair knowledge of authors, and articles, and scientists, and inventors, and eminent men and women, should have been part and parcel of our children's intellectual consciousness? Why were we so indolent, so blind, so surprisingly indifferent about our children as to go our own ways, read our own books in selfish silence, and buy carelessly for them,. or not at all, or let them borrow, without advice, without supervision, drawing their own conclusions from what they read? Why, why, when it is such a bitter thing to waken some day as from long sleep, and find ourselves utter strangers to our children's inner selves, shut out from the thoughts they think, the beliefs they have imbibed, the ideals they have built-our time for molding and shaping forever gone by. WANTING. Under the mighty headland the wavelets laugh and leap, The butterflies over the clovered hill, flutter in mazy dance, Is sweet as hope and pure as love; "But ah," sighed the maiden, "the sunshine is dim, And the gladness is wearisome, wanting him!" Under the mighty headland the mightier rollers crash, Gleam in the steel-grey distance; and the winds in furious Waken the waves in their deepest caves, and the voice of the angry deep Rolls full and far, over sand and Scar, In the glory and grandeur of nature's war. Over the mighty headland, over the heaving sea, Sobbing with wings wet laden, the wild west wind wails on, And the embers grow grey on the lonely hearth, The laugh that welcomes the sunshine rings false for the chime it knew; There is something dull in the beautiful, that is not watched by two; They thought evenings at home so stupid. Father read his paper, or he dozed by the fire, while mother mended or knit, and nobody made a noise. Perhaps it was stupid; yes, it probably was. Why did it not occur to us to make a business of home-making? Why did we not give it thought, and plan cheery evenings, good times? Why did The sad sweet cadence of autumn needs the ring of the not father and mother talk it over together? Why were not the children of more importance to us? Why should they not have grown up with the habit of reading aloud, and of listening, and of discussions from their earliest reading-time? Why did we not buy books for them in a different way? Why did we not make it part of a wise and loving parental plan to study the announcements of new soothing voice; Unless one is there her mirth to share, can the household joy rejoice? For the chords of life ajar must be, Unless one hand hold the master key; THE GOOD WOMEN. [The high order of Goethe's genius, the high rank occupied by him in the realm of literature entitles him to a hearing when others would not be listened to. The men are very few who like Shakspere and Goethe have secured universal recognition of their transcendent powers. The influence of the great German poet upon the literature of his native country has been very great and is still undiminished. Whatever he wrote is read and studied for its charming genius and originality. The work from which the following is an extract is one of the translations made expressly for the series of German Classical Works of the "Standard Library." The translator, R. D. Boylan, Esq., is favorably known to the readers of this library especially by This revision of Schiller's "Don Carlos."] Seyton. It is a great pity that private diaries are now so completely out of fashion. Twenty years ago they were in general use, and many persons thought they possessed a veritable treasure in the record of their daily thoughts. I recollect a very worthy lady upon whom this custom entailed a sad misfortune. A certain governess had been accustomed from her earliest youth to keep a regular diary, and, in fact, she considered its composition to form an indispensable part of her daily duties. She continued the habit when she grew up, and did not lay it aside even when she married. Her memorandums were not looked upon by her as absolute secrets, she had no occasion for such mystery, and she frequently read passages from it for the amusement of her friends and of her husband. But the book in its entirety was entrusted to nobody. The account of her husband's attachment had been entered in her diary with the same minuteness with which she had formerly noted down the ordinary occurrences of the day; and the entire history of her own affectionate feelings had been de- | scribed from their first opening hour until they had ripened into a passion, and become at length a rooted habit. Upon one occasion this diary accidentally fell in her husband's way, and the perusal afforded him a strange entertainment. He had undesignedly approached the writing-desk upon which the book lay, and, without suspicion or intention, had read through an entire page which was open before him. He took the opportunity of referring to a few previous and subsequent passages, and then retired with the comfortable assurance that it was high time to discontinue the disagreeable amusement." Henrietta.-But, according to the wish of my friend, our conversation should be confined to good women, and already we are turning to those who can scarcely be counted amongst the best. Seyton. Why this constant reference to bad and good? Should we not be quite as well contented with others as with ourselves, either as we have been formed by nature, or improved by education? Armidoro.-I think it would be at once pleasant and useful to arrange and collect a series of anecdotes such as we have heard narrated, and many of which are founded on real occurrences. Light and delicate traits, which mark the characters of men, are well worthy of our attention, even though they give birth to no extraordinary adventures. They are useless to writers of romance, being devoid of all exciting interest; and worthless to the tribe of anecdote-collectors, for they are for the most part destitute of wit and spirit, but they would always prove entertaining to a reader who, in a mood of quiet contemplation, should wish to study the general characteristics of mankind. Sinclair.-Well said. And if we had only thought of so praiseworthy a work a little earlier, we might have assisted our friend, the editor of by composing a dozen anecdotes, if not of model women, at least of well-behaved personages, to balance his catalogue of naughty ladies. Amelia.-I should be particularly pleased with a collection of incidents to show how a woman forms the very soul and existence of a household establishment; and this because the artist has introduced a sketch of a spendthrift and improvident wife, to the defamation of our sex. Seyton.-I can furnish Amelia with a case precisely in point. Amelia.-Let us hear it. But do not imitate the usual custom of men who undertake to defend the ladies: they frequently begin with praise, and end with censure. Seyton.-Upon this occasion, however, I do not fear the perversion of my intention, through the influence of any evil spirit. A young man once became tenant of a large hotel which was established in a good situation. Amongst the qualities which recommended a host, he possessed a more than ordinary share of good temper. He was peculiarly fortunate in selecting a pursuit in which he found it necessary to devote a considerable portion of the day to his home duties. He was neither careful nor negligent, and his own good temper exercised a perceptible influence over the numerous guests who assembled around him. He had married a young person who was of a quiet, passive disposition. She paid punctual attention to her business, was attached to her household pursuits, and loved her husband, though she often found fault with him in secret for his carelessness in money matters. She had a great love for ready money; she thoroughly comprehended its value, and understood the advantage of securing a provision for herself. Devoid of all activity of disposition, she had every tendency to avarice. But a small share of avarice becomes a woman, however ill extravagance may suit her. Generosity is a manly virtue, but parsimony is becoming in a woman. This is the rule of nature, and our judgments must be subservient thereto. Margaret (for such was the name of this prudent personage) was very much dissatisfied with her husband's carelessness. Upon occasions when large payments were made to him by his customers, it was his habit to leave the money lying for a considerable time upon the table, and then to collect it in a basket, from which he afterwards paid it away, without making it up into packages, and without keeping any account of its application. His wife plainly perceived that, even without actual extravagance, where there was such a total want of system, considerable sums must be wasted. She was above all things anxious to make her husband change his negligent habits, and she became grieved to observe that the small savings which she collected and so carefully retained were as nothing in comparison with the money that was squandered, and she determined, therefore, to adopt a rather dangerous expedient to make her husband open his eyes. She resolved to defraud him of as much money as possible, and for this purpose had recourse to an extraordinary plan. She had observed that when he had once counted his money which he allowed to remain so long upon the table, he never reckoned it over a second time before putting it away; she therefore rubbed the bottom of a candle-stick with tallow, and then, apparently without design, she placed it near the spot where the ducats lay exposed, a species of coin for which she entertained a warm partiality. She thus gained possession of a few pieces, and subsequently of some other coins, and was soon sufficiently well satisfied with her success. She therefore repeated the operation frequently, and entertained no scruple about employing such evil means to effect so praiseworthy an object, and she tranquilized her conscience on the subject by the reflection that such a mode of abstracting her husband's money could not be termed robbery, as her hands were not employed for the purpose. Her secret treasure increased gradually, and soon became very much greater by the addition of the ready money which she herself received from the customers of the hotel, and of which she invariably retained possession. She had carried on this practice for a whole year, and though she carefully watched her husband, she never had reason to believe that his suspicions were awakened, until at length he began to grow discontented and unhappy. She induced him to tell her the cause of his anxiety, and learned that he was grievously perplexed. After the last payment which he had made of a considerable sum of money, he had laid aside the amount of his rent, and not only this had disappeared, but he was unable to meet the demand of his landlord from any other channel; and as he had always been accustomed to keep his accounts in his head, and to write down nothing, he could not possibly understand the cause of the deficiency. Margaret reminded him of his great carelessness, censured his thoughtless manner of receiving and paying away money, and spoke of his general imprudence. Even his generous disposition did not escape her remarks; and, in truth, he had no excuse to offer for a course of conduct the consequences of which he had so much reason to regret. But she could not leave her husband long in this state of grievous trouble, more especially as she felt a pride in being able to render him once more happy. Accordingly, to his great astonishment, on his birthday, which she was always accustomed to celebrate by presenting him with something useful, she entered his private apartment with a basket filled with rouleaux of money. The different descriptions of coin were packed together separately, and the contents were carefully endorsed in a handwriting by no means of the best. It would be difficult to describe his astonishment at finding before him the precise sums which he had missed, or at his wife's assurance that they belonged to him. She thereupon circumstantially described the time and the manner of her abstracting them, confessed the amount which she had taken, and told also how much she had saved by her own careful attention. His despair was now changed into joy, and the result was that he abandoned to his wife all the duty of receiving and paying away money for the future. His business was carried on even more prosperously than before, although from the day of which we have spoken, not a farthing ever passed through his hands. His wife discharged the duty of banker with extraordinary credit to herself; no false money was ever taken, and the establishment of her complete authority in the house was the natural and just consequence of her activity and care; and, after the lapse of ten years, she and her husband were in a condition to purchase the hotel for themselves. Sinclair. And so all this truth, love, and fidelity ended in the wife becoming the veritable mistress. I should like to know how far the opinion is just that women have a tendency to acquire authority. Amelia.-There it is again. Censure, you observe, is sure to follow in the wake of praise. But Armidoro.-Favor us with your sentiments on this subject, good Eulalia. I think I have observed in your writings no disposition to defend your sex against this imputation. Eulalia.-In so far as it is a grievous imputation, I should wish it were removed by the conduct of our sex. where we have a right to authority, we can need no excuse. We like authority because we are human. For what else is authority, in the sense in which we use it, than a desire for independence, and for the enjoyment of existence as much as possible. This is a privilege which all men seek with determination, but our ambition appears, perhaps, more objectionable, because nature, usage, and social regulations place restraints upon our sex, whilst they enlarge the authority of men. What men possess naturally, we have to acquire, and property obtained by a laborious struggle will always be more obstinately held than that which is inherited. E. Seyton. But women, as I think, have no reason to complain on that score. As the world goes, they inherit as much as men, if not more, and in my opinion it is a much more difficult task to become a perfect man than a perfect woman. The phrase, "He shall be thy master," is a formula characteristic of a barbarous age long since passed away. Men can not claim a right to become educated and refined, without conceding the same privilege to women. As long as the process continues, the balance is even between them; but as women are more capable of improvement than men, experience shows that the scale soon turns in their favor. Armidoro.There is no doubt that in all civilized nations women in general are superior to men, for where the two sexes exert a corresponding influence over each other, man ecomes effeminate, and that is a disadvantage; but when a woman acquires any masculine virtue, she is the gainer, for if she can improve her own peculiar qualities by the addition of masculine energy, she becomes an almost perfect being. Seyton. I have never considered the subject so deeply. But I think it is generally admitted that women do rule and must continue to do so, and therefore whenever I become acquainted with a young lady, I always inquire upon what subjects she exercises her authority, since it must be exercised somewhere. Amelia.—And thus you establish the point with which you started? Seyton. And why not? Is not my reasoning as good as that of philosophers in general, who are convinced by their experience? Active women, who are given to habits of acquisition and saving, are invariably mistresses at home; pretty women, at once graceful and superficial, rule in large societies, whilst those who possess more sound accomplishments exert their influence in smaller circles. Amelia. And thus we are divided into three classes. Sinclair.-All honorable, in my opinion; and yet those three classes do not include the whole sex. There is still a fourth, to which perhaps we had better not allude, that we may escape the charge of converting our praise into censure. Henrietta.-Then we must guess the fourth class. Let us see. Sinclair.-Well then, the three first classes, were those whose activity was displayed at home, in large societies, or in smaller circles. Henrietta.-What other sphere can there be where we can exercise our activity? Sinclair.-There may be many. But I am thinking of the reverse of activity. Henrietta.-Indolence! How could an indolent woman rule? Sinclair.-Why not? Henrietta.-In what manner? Sinclair. By opposition. Whoever adopts such a course, either from character or principle, acquires more authority than one would readily think. Amelia.-I fear we are about to fall into the tone of censure so general to men. Henrietta.-Do not interrupt him, Amelia. Nothing can be more harmless than these mere opinions, and we are the gainers, by learning what other persons think of us. Now then, for the fourth class, what about it? Sinclair. I must take the liberty of speaking unreservedly. The class I allude to does not exist in our country, and does not exist in France, because the fair sex, both amongst us and our gallant neighbors, enjoys a proper degree of freedom. But in countries where women are under restraint and debarred from sharing in public amusements, the class I speak of is numerous. In a neighboring country there is a peculiar name, by which ladies of this class are invariably designated. Henrietta.-You must tell us the name; we can never guess names. Sinclair.-Well I must tell you, they are called roguish. Henrietta.-A strange appellation. Sinclair.-Some time ago you took great interest in reading the speculations of Lavater upon physiognomy; do you remember nothing about roguish countenances in his book? Henrietta. It is possible, but it made no impression upon me. I may perhaps have construed the word in its ordinary sense, and read on without noticing it. Sinclair.-It is true, that the word "roguish" in its ordinary sense is usually applied to a person who, with malicious levity, turns another into ridicule; but in its present sense it is meant to describe a young lady, who, by her indifference, coldness, and reserve-qualities which attach to her as a disease-destroys the happiness of one upon whom she is dependent. We meet with examples of this everywhere; sometimes even in our own circle. For instance, when I have praised a lady for her beauty, I have heard it said in reply, "Yes, but she is a bit of a rogue." I even remember a physician saying to a lady who complained of the anxiety she suffered about her maid-servant, "My dear madam, the girl is somewhat of a rogue, and will give a deal of trouble." Amelia rose from her seat and left the apartment. Sinclair.-I thought so too, and I therefore took a note of the symptoms, which seem to mark a disease half moral and half physical, and framed an essay which I entitled, "A Chapter on Rogues," and as I meant it to form a portion of a work on general anthropological observations, I have kept it by me hitherto. Henrietta.-But you must let us see it, and if you know any interesting anecdotes to elucidate your meaning of the word "rogue," they must find a place in our intended collection of novels. Armidoro.-(Coming from the cabinet to which he had frequently retired). Your wish is accomplished. I know the motive of our friend, the editor of the work. I have taken down the heads of our conversation upon this paper. I will arrange the draft, and if Eulalia will kindly promise to impart to the whole that spirit of charming animation which she possesses, the graceful tone of the work, and perhaps also its contents, will in some measure expiate the offence of the artist for his ungallant attack. Henrietta.-I can not blame your officious friendship, Armidoro, but I wish you had not taken notes of our conver-ation; it is setting a bad example. Our intercourse together has been quite free and unrestrained, and nothing can be worse than that our unguarded conversation should be overheard and written down, perhaps even printed for the amusement of the public. CHAUTAUQUA—1882. I.-TIME. The Annual Meetings at Chautauqua will begin Saturday, July 8, 1882, with the "Chautauqua School of Languages" (lasting six weeks) and the "Teachers' Retreat" (lasting three weeks). The "Public Meetings" will open Saturday, July 8. The "Assembly" proper will begin on Tuesday, August 1, and continue until August 21. II. THE CHAUTAUQUA SCHOOL OF LANGUAGES. It is the object of the Chautauqua Normal School of Languages to make teachers familiar with the natural method of teaching both ancient and modern languages; to illustrate other methods, and to increase popular interest in philological studies. While the School of Languages is especially designed for teachers, other persons will be welcome, and will receive careful instruction. A children's class will also be organized for the illustration of teaching by the natural method. Persons will be admitted to the school at any time, but it is extremely desirable that all should be present from the beginning. Instruction will be given in German by Prof. J. H. Worman, A. M., of New York; in French by Prof. A. Lalande, of Kentucky; in classical and ecclesiastical Latin by Prof. Henry Lummis, A. M., of Massachusetts; in Hellenistic Greek and Hebrew by Rev. Dr. James Strong, of Madison, N. J.; in Anglo-Saxon and English literature by Prof. W. D. McClintock, of Kentucky. III. THE CHAUTAUQUA TEACHERS' RETREAT. It is the aim of the Chautauqua Teachers' Retreat to stimulate and quicken teachers by a series of conversations under the general direction of competent instructors. Three classes of subjects are discussed in the Teachers' Retreat: 1. The Biographical Centers, or, The Study of the Great Educators. 2. The Philosophy of Education, with definitions of important terms, psychological and pedagogical. 3. Methods of Management and Instruction, growing out of the true philosophy of education. Teachers attending the Retreat have an opportunity of witnessing, for a limited number of times, the processes employed in the Chautauqua School of Languages. Instruction will be given in rhetoric by the Hon. J. W. Dickinson, Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education. Prof. William H. Niles, of the Institute of Technology, Boston, will give a series of practical talks on "Geography; How to Teach It," with two or more popular illustrated lectures on the "Origin of Mountain Scenery," "The Glaciers of the Alps," "Holland and its People," etc. Prof. Frank Beard, of Syracuse University, will give a course of lessons in art. Edward A. Spring, sculptor, of Perth Amboy, N. J., will conduct the School of Sculpture and Modeling. Prof. W. D. Bridge, of New Haven, Conn., will give a series of lessons in standard phonography. Prof. J. T. Edwards, of Randolph, N. Y., will give a series of practical talks on “Physical Science in the School-room." Instruction will be given during the "Retreat" in elocution and in music. IV. ATTRACTIONS. There is no summer resort on the continent where teachers and students in the specialties can enjoy such rare combinations of rest, recreation and instruction as at Chautauqua. The surroundings give added charm to the exercises of the School of Languages and the Teachers' Retreat. The meetings are held in halls and temples delightfully located in the groves of grand old trees on the edge of the lake. Here the student enjoys lovely mornings, unrivaled sunsets, moonlight nights. In the several parks are rustic seats and beautiful fountains. At night the grounds are illuminated by the electric light. The advantages of the annual Assembly may be enjoyed by the students of the School of Languages and of the Teachers' Retreat. The Assembly opens as the Retreat closes. The School of Languages continues till nearly the close of the Assembly. Among the attractions of the Assembly are superior lectures in literature, history, science, and art, by men of national, and often of worldwide, reputation. The music at Chautauqua is always fine. Cornetists, violinists, choice vocalists, and a chorus choir, with a new, powerful chorus-organ built by George H. Ryder & Co., of Boston, are among the promised attractions. This year we are to be favored during a part of the Assembly with the presence of the "Royal Hand-bell Ringers and Glee-men, of London, England," Duncan S. Miller, Esq., Conductor. The illuminated fleet, camp-fires, children's bon-fires, museums, and concerts, minister to the delight and profit of all who attend the Chautauqua meetings. Recreation and instruction are furnished by the old-time "debating society" and by "spelling matches," Saturday |