Chapter XXXIV: Part III: Programmes for Special Occasions (7)

Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day!
For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,
Yet man cannot cover what God would reveal:
’Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
I tell thee, Culloden’s dread echoes shall ring
With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king.
Lo! anointed by Heaven with vials of wrath,
Behold where he flies on his desolate path!
Now in darkness, and billows, he sweeps from my sight:
Rise! Rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!
’Tis finish’d.—Their thunders are hush’d on the moors;
Culloden is lost, and my country deplores.
But where is the iron-bound prisoner! Where?
For the red eye of battle is shut in despair.
Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banish’d, forlorn,
Like a limb from his country, cast bleeding, and torn?
Ah! no; for a darker departure is near;
The war-drum is muffled, and black is the bier;
His death-bell is tolling; oh! mercy, dispel
Yon sight, that it freezes my spirit to tell!
Life flutters, convuls’d in his quivering limbs,
And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims.
Accurs’d be the fagots that blaze at his feet,
Where his heart shall be thrown ere it ceases to beat,
With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale—

_Lochiel._

Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale,
For never shall Albin a destiny meet
So black with dishonor—so foul with retreat.
Tho’ his perishing ranks should be strow’d in their gore,
Like ocean-weeds heap’d on the surf-beaten shore,
Lochiel, untainted by flight, or by chains,
While the kindling of life in his bosom remains,
Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low,
With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe!
And, leaving in battle no blot on his name,
Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.

CAMPBELL.

[CURTAIN.]

_TABLEAU._

_A very pretty tableau may be quickly formed behind the curtain, and at the close of applause from the audience the curtain be raised, showing LOCHIEL standing proud and imperious, his clan gathered around him, and the old SEER upon his knees, head thrown back, with hands and face raised imploringly._

MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND.

(Adapted from Schiller, Scene II., Act III. Arranged for two
ladies and two gentlemen.)

CHARACTERS:

MARY, _Queen of Scotland_.
ELIZABETH, _Queen of England_.
ROBERT, _Earl of Leicester_.
TALBOT, _a friend of Mary_.

COSTUMES.

_Elizabethan age of England and Scotland._

_Enter MARY and TALBOT._

_Mary._ Talbot, Elizabeth will soon be here. I cannot see her. Preserve me from this hateful interview.

_Talbot._ Reflect a while. Recall thy courage. The moment is come upon which everything depends. Incline thyself; submit to the necessity of the moment. She is the stronger. Thou must bend before her.

_Mary._ Before her? I cannot!

_Tal._ Thou must do so. Speak to her humbly; invoke the greatness of her generous heart; dwell not too much upon thy rights. But see first how she bears herself towards thee. I myself did witness her emotion on reading thy letter. The tears stood in her eyes. Her heart, ’tis sure, is not a stranger to compassion; therefore place more confidence in her, and prepare thyself for her reception.

_Mary._ (_Taking his hand._) Thou wert ever my faithful friend. Oh, that I had always remained beneath thy kind guardianship, Talbot! Their care of me has indeed been harsh. Who attends her?

_Tal._ Leicester. You need not fear him; the earl doth not seek thy fall. Behold, the queen approaches. (_Retires._)

_Enter ELIZABETH and LEICESTER._

_Mary._ (_Aside._) O heavens! Protect me! her features say she has no heart!

_Elizabeth._ (_To LEICESTER._) Who is this woman? (_Feigning surprise._) Robert, who has dared to—

_Lei._ Be not angry, queen, and since heaven has hither directed thee, suffer pity to triumph in thy noble heart.

_Tal._ (_Advancing._) Deign, royal lady, to cast a look of compassion on the unhappy woman who prostrates herself at thy feet.

[_MARY, having attempted to approach ELIZABETH, stops short, overcome by repugnance, her gestures indicating internal struggle._]

_Eliz._ (_Haughtily._) Sirs, which of you spoke of humility and submission? I see nothing but a proud lady, whom misfortune has not succeeded in subduing.

_Mary._ (_Aside._) I will undergo even this last degree of ignominy. My soul discards its noble but, alas! impotent pride. I will seek to forget who I am, what I have suffered, and will humble myself before her who has caused my disgrace. (_Turns to ELIZABETH._) Heaven, O sister, has declared itself on thy side, and has graced thy happy head with the crown of victory. (_Kneeling._) I worship the Deity who hath rendered thee so powerful. Show thyself noble in thy triumph, and leave me not overwhelmed by shame! Open thy arms, extend in mercy to me thy royal hand, and raise me from my fearful fall.

_Eliz._ (_Drawing back._) Thy place, Stuart, is there, and I shall ever raise my hands in gratitude to heaven that it has not willed that I should kneel at thy feet, as thou now crouchest in the dust at mine.

_Mary._ (_With great emotion._) Think of the vicissitudes of all things human! There is a Deity above who punisheth pride. Respect the Providence who now doth prostrate me at thy feet. Do not show thyself insensible and pitiless as the rock, to which the drowning man, with failing breath and outstretched arms, doth cling. My life, my entire destiny, depend upon my words and the power of my tears. Inspire my heart, teach me to move, to touch thine own. Thou turnest such icy looks upon me, that my soul doth sink within me, my grief parches my lips, and a cold shudder renders my entreaties mute. (_Rises._)

_Eliz._ (_Coldly._) What wouldst thou say to me? thou didst seek converse with me. Forgetting that I am an outraged sovereign, I honor thee with my royal presence. ’Tis in obedience to a generous impulse that I incur the reproach of having sacrificed my dignity.

_Mary._ How can I express myself? how shall I so choose every word that it may penetrate, without irritating, thy heart? God of mercy! aid my lips, and banish from them whatever may offend my sister! I cannot relate to thee my woes without appearing to accuse thee, and this is not my wish. Towards me thou hast been neither merciful nor just. I am thine equal, and yet thou hast made me a prisoner, a suppliant, and a fugitive. I turned to thee for aid, and thou, trampling on the rights of nations and of hospitality, hast immured me in a living tomb! Thou hast abandoned me to the most shameful need, and finally exposed me to the ignominy of a trial! But, no more of the past; we are now face to face. Display the goodness of thy heart! tell me the crimes of which I am accused! Wherefore didst thou not grant me this friendly audience when I so eagerly desired it? Years of misery would have been spared me, and this painful interview would not have occurred in this abode of gloom and horror.

_Eliz._ Accuse not fate, but thine own wayward soul and the unreasonable ambition of thy house. There was no quarrel between us until thy most worthy ally inspired thee with the mad and rash desire to claim for thyself the royal titles and my throne! Not satisfied with this, he then urged thee to make war against me, to threaten my crown and my life. Amidst the peace which reigned in my dominions, he fraudulently excited my subjects to revolt. But heaven doth protect me, and the attempt was abandoned in despair. The blow was aimed at my head, but ’tis on thine that it will fall.

_Mary._ I am in the hand of my God, but thou wilt not exceed thy power by committing a deed so atrocious?

_Eliz._ What could prevent me? Thy kinsman has shown monarchs how to make peace with their enemies! Who would be surety for thee if, imprudently, I were to release thee? How can I rely on thy pledged faith? Nought but my power renders me secure. No! there can be no friendship with a race of vipers.

_Mary._ Are these thy dark suspicions? To thine eyes, then, I have ever seemed a stranger and an enemy. If thou hadst but recognized me as heiress to thy throne—as is my lawful right—love, friendship, would have made me thy friend—thy sister.

_Eliz._ What affection hast thou that is not feigned? I declare thee heiress to my throne! Insidious treachery! In order, forsooth, to overturn the state, and—wily Armida that thou art—entrap within thy snares all the youthful spirits of my kingdom, so that during my own lifetime all eyes would turn towards thee—the new constellation!

_Mary._ Reign on in peace! I renounce all right to thy sceptre. The wings of my ambition have long drooped, and greatness has no longer charms for me. ’Tis thou who hast it all; I am now only the shade of Mary Stuart! My pristine ardor has been subdued by the ignominy of my chains. Thou hast nipped my existence in the bud. But pronounce those magnanimous words for which thou cam’st hither; for I will not believe that thou art come to enjoy the base delight of insulting thy victim! Pronounce the words so longed for, and say, “Mary, thou art free! Till now thou hast known only my power; now know my greatness.” Woe to thee, shouldst thou not depart from me propitious, beneficent, like an invoked Deity. O sister! not for all England, not for all the lands the vast ocean embraces, would I present myself to thee with the inexorable aspect with which thou now regardest me!

_Eliz._ At length thou confessest thyself vanquished! Hast thou emptied thy quiver of the artifices it contained? Hast thou no more assassins? Does there not remain to thee one single hero to undertake in thy defence the duties of knight-errant? Gone, Mary, gone forever are those days. Thou canst no longer seduce a follower of mine; other causes now inflame men’s hearts. In vain didst thou seek a fourth husband among my English subjects; they knew too well that thou murderest thy husbands, as thou dost thy lovers.

_Mary._ (_Shuddering._) O heavens! sister! Grant me resignation.

_Eliz._ (_To LEICESTER, with contempt._) Earl, are these the boasted features, on which no mortal eye could gaze with safety? Is this the beauty to which no other woman’s could be compared? In sooth, the reputation appears to have been easily won. To be thus celebrated as the reigning beauty of the universe seems merely to infer that she has been universal in the distribution of her favors.

_Mary._ Ah, ’tis too much.

_Eliz._ (_With a smile of satisfaction._) Now thou showest thyself in thine own form. Till now thou hast worn a mask.

_Mary._ (_With dignified pride._) They were mere human errors that overcame my youth. My grandeur dazzled me. I have nought to conceal, nor deny my faults; my pride has ever disdained the base artifices of vile intriguers. The worst I ever did is known, and I may boast myself far better than my reputation. But woe to thee, thou malignant hypocrite, if thou ever lettest fall the mantle beneath which thou concealest thy shameless amours! Thou, the daughter of Anne Boleyn, hast not inherited virtue! The causes that brought thy sinful mother to the block are known to all.

_Tal._ (_Stepping between them._) Is this, O Mary, thine endurance? Is this thy humility?

_Mary._ Endurance? I have endured all that a mortal heart can bear. Hence, abject humility! Insulted patience, get ye from my heart! And thou, my long pent-up indignation, break thy bonds, and burst forth from thy lair! Oh, thou gavest to the angry serpent his deadly glance; arm my tongue with poisonous stings.

_Tal._ (_To ELIZABETH._) Forgive the angry transports which thou hast thyself provoked.

_Lei._ (_Inducing ELIZABETH to withdraw._) Hear not the ravings of a distracted woman. Leave this ill—

_Mary._ The throne of England is profaned by a base-born—the British nation is duped by a vile pretender! If right did prevail, thou wouldst be grovelling at my feet, for ’tis I who am thy sovereign. (_ELIZABETH retires. LEICESTER and TALBOT follow._) She departs, burning with rage, and with bitterness of death at heart. Now happy I am! I have degraded her in Leicester’s presence. At last! at last! After long years of insult and contumely, I have at least enjoyed a season of triumph. (_Sinks upon the floor._)

[CURTAIN.]

SCHILLER.

_TABLEAU._

_Curtain rises. MARY reclines upon the floor, disheveled hair, face buried in hands, shaking with emotion. ELIZABETH stands glaring at her, face livid with anger, clenched fists. LEICESTER is restraining her; his hand is raised as if admonishing her not to yield to her rage and do an act unbecoming a queen. TALBOT leans over MARY, to whom he appears to offer words of hope and consolation, at the same time lifting his right hand imploringly to ELIZABETH._

A CASE OF INDIGESTION.

SCENE—_DR. GREGORY’S study. A table and two chairs._

_Enter PATIENT (an unhappy Scotch merchant) from left. DR. GREGORY discovered reading (on right)._

_Patient._ Good morning, Dr. Gregory! I’m just come into Edinburgh about some law business, and I thought when I was here, at any rate, I might just as weel take your advice, sir, about my trouble.

_Doctor._ Pray, sir, sit down. (_Patient sits on left._) And now, my good sir, what may your trouble be?

_Pa._ Indeed, doctor, I’m not very sure, but I’m thinking it’s a kind of weakness that makes me dizzy at times, and a kind of pinkling about my stomach—I’m just na right.

_Dr._ You are from the west country, I should suppose, sir?

_Pa._ Yes, sir; from Glasgow.

_Dr._ Ay, pray, sir, are you a glutton?

_Pa._ Heaven forbid, sir! I am one of the plainest men living in the west country.

_Dr._ Then, perhaps, you are a drunkard?

_Pa._ No, Dr. Gregory, thank Heaven, no one can accuse me of that! I’m of the dissenting persuasion, doctor, and an elder, so you may suppose I’m na drunkard.

_Dr._ I’ll suppose no such thing till you tell me your mode of living. I’m so much puzzled with your symptoms, sir, that I should wish to hear in detail what you do eat and drink. When do you breakfast, and what do you take at it?

_Pa._ I breakfast at nine o’clock; take a cup of coffee, and one or two cups of tea, a couple of eggs, and a bit of ham or kippered salmon, or, maybe, both, if they’re good, and two or three rolls and butter.

_Dr._ Do you eat no honey, or jelly, or jam, at breakfast?

_Pa._ O, yes, sir! but I don’t count that as anything.

_Dr._ Come, this is a very moderate breakfast. What kind of a dinner do you make?

_Pa._ O, sir, I eat a very plain dinner, indeed. Some soup, and some fish, and a little plain roast or boiled; for I dinna care for made dishes; I think, some way, they never satisfy the appetite.

_Dr._ You take a little pudding, then, and afterwards some cheese?

_Pa._ O, yes! though I don’t care much about them.

_Dr._ You take a glass of ale or porter with your cheese?

_Pa._ Yes, one or the other; but seldom both.

_Dr._ You west-country people generally take a glass of Highland whiskey after dinner?

_Pa._ Yes, we do; it’s good for digestion.

_Dr._ Do you take any wine during dinner?

_Pa._ Yes, a glass or two of sherry; but I’m indifferent as to wine during dinner. I drink a good deal of beer.

_Dr._ What quantity of port do you drink?

_Pa._ O, very little; not above half a dozen glasses or so.

_Dr._ In the west country, it is impossible, I hear, to dine without punch?

_Pa._ Yes, sir; indeed, ’tis punch we drink chiefly; but, for myself, unless I happen to have a friend with me, I never take more than a couple of tumblers or so, and that’s moderate.

_Dr._ O, exceedingly moderate, indeed! You then, after this slight repast, take some tea and bread and butter?

_Pa._ Yes, before I go to the counting-house to read the evening letters.

_Dr._ And on your return you take supper, I suppose?

_Pa._ No, sir, I canna be said to take supper; just something before going to bed;—a rizzered haddock, or a bit of toasted cheese, or a half-hundred oysters, or the like o’that, and, maybe, two-thirds of a bottle of ale; but I take no _regular_ supper.

_Dr._ But you take a little more punch after that?

_Pa._ No, sir; punch does not agree with me at bedtime. I take a tumbler of warm whiskey-toddy at night; it is lighter to sleep on.

_Dr._ So it must be, no doubt. This, you say, is your everyday life; but, upon great occasions, you perhaps exceed a little?

_Pa._ No, sir; except when a friend or two dine with me, or I dine out, which, as I am a sober family man, does not often happen.

_Dr._ Not above twice a week?

_Pa._ No, not oftener.

_Dr._ Of course you sleep well and have a good appetite?

_Pa._ Yes, sir, thank Heaven, I have; indeed, any ill health that I have is about mealtime.

_Dr._ (_Rising with a severe air—the PATIENT also rises._) Now, sir, you are a very pretty fellow, indeed! You come here and tell me you are a moderate man; but, upon examination, I find, by your own showing, that you are a most voracious glutton. You said you were a sober man; yet, by your own showing, you are a beer-swiller, a dram-drinker, a wine-bibber, and a guzzler of punch. You tell me you eat indigestible suppers, and swill toddy to force sleep. I see that you chew tobacco. Now, sir, what human stomach can stand this? Go home, sir, and leave your present course of riotous living, and there are hopes that your stomach may recover its tone, and you be in good health, like your neighbors.

_Pa._ I’m sure, doctor, I’m very much obliged to you. (_Taking out a bundle of bank notes._) I shall endeavor to——

_Dr._ Sir, you are not obliged to me:—put up your money, sir. Do you think I’ll take a fee for telling you what you know as well as myself? Though you’re no physician, sir, you are not altogether a fool. Go home, sir, and reform, or, take my word for it, your life is not worth half a year’s purchase.

_Pa._ Thank you, doctor, thank you. Good-day, doctor.

(_Exit on right, followed by DOCTOR._)

MR. CROSS AND SERVANT JOHN.

_Mr. Cross._ Why do you keep me knocking all day at the door?

_John._ I was at work, sir, in the garden. As soon as I heard your knock, I ran to open the door with such haste that I fell down and hurt myself.

_Mr. C._ Why didn’t you leave the door open?

_John._ Why, sir, you scolded me yesterday because I did so. When the door is open, you scold; when it is shut, you scold. I should like to know what to do?

_Mr. C._ What to do? What to do, did you say?

_John._ I said it. Shall I leave the door open?

_Mr. C._ No. I tell you, no!

_John._ Shall I keep the door shut?

_Mr. C._ Shall you keep the door shut? No, I say.

_John._ But, sir, a door must be either open or——

_Mr. C._ Don’t presume to argue with me, fellow!

_John._ But doesn’t it hold to reason that a door——

_Mr. C._ Silence, I say. Hold your tongue!

_John._ And I say that a door must be either open or shut. Now, how will you have it?

_Mr. C._ I have told you a thousand times, you provoking fellow—I have told you that I wished it—— But what do you mean by cross-questioning me, sir? Have you trimmed the grape-vine, as I ordered you?

_John._ I did that three days ago, sir.

_Mr. C._ Have you washed the carriage? Eh?

_John._ I washed it before breakfast, sir, as usual.

_Mr. C._ You haven’t watered the horses to-day!

_John._ Go and see, sir, if you can make them drink any more. They have had their fill.

_Mr. C._ Have you given them their oats?

_John._ Ask William; he saw me do it.

_Mr. C._ But you have forgotten to take the mare to be shod. Ah! I have you now!

_John._ I have the blacksmith’s bill here.

_Mr. C._ My letters!—Did you take them to the post-office? Ha! You forgot, did you?

_John._ I forgot nothing, sir. The letters were in the mail ten minutes after you handed them to me.

_Mr. C._ How often have I told you not to scrape on that abominable violin of yours? And yet this very morning——

_John._ This morning? You forget, sir. You broke the violin all to pieces for me last Saturday night.

_Mr. C._ I’m glad of it! Come, now; that wood which I told you to saw and put into the shed—why is it not done? Answer me!

_John._ The wood is all sawed, split, and housed, sir; besides doing that, I have watered all the trees in the garden, dug over three of the beds, and was digging another when you knocked.

_Mr. C._ Oh, I must get rid of this fellow! He will plague my life out of me. Out of my sight, sir! (_John rushes out._)

HOW TO BREAK BAD NEWS.

_Mr. H._ Ha, steward! how are you, my old boy? How do things go on at home?

_Steward._ Bad enough, your honor; the magpie’s dead.

_Mr. H._ Poor Mag! so he’s gone. How came he to die?

_Steward._ Over-ate himself, sir.

_Mr. H._ Did he, indeed? a greedy villain! Why, what did he get he liked so well?

_Steward._ Horse-flesh, sir; he died of eating horse-flesh.

_Mr. H._ How came he to get so much horse-flesh?

_Steward._ All your father’s horses, sir.

_Mr. H._ What! are they dead, too?

_Steward._ Ay, sir; they died of over-work.

_Mr. H._ And why were they over-worked, pray.

_Steward._ To carry water, sir.

_Mr. H._ To carry water! What did they carry water for?

_Steward._ Sure, sir, to put out the fire.

_Mr. H._ Fire! What fire?

_Steward._ Oh, sir, your father’s house is burned to the ground.

_Mr. H._ My father’s house! How come it set on fire?

_Steward._ I think, sir, it must have been the torches.

_Mr. H._ Torches! What torches?

_Steward._ At your mother’s funeral.

_Mr. H._ Alas! my mother dead?

_Steward._ Ah, poor lady, she never looked up after it!

_Mr. H._ After what?

_Steward._ The loss of your father.

_Mr. H._ My father gone, too?

_Steward._ Yes, poor man, he took to his bed soon as he heard of it.

_Mr. H._ Heard of what?

_Steward._ The bad news, sir, an’ please your honor.

_Mr. H._ What! more miseries? more bad news? No! you can add nothing more!

_Steward._ Yes, sir; your bank has failed, and your credit is lost, and you are not worth a dollar in the world. I made bold, sir, to come to wait on you about it, for I thought you would like to hear the news.

HOW TO DRAFT CONSTITUTION AND BY-LAWS FOR THE ORGANIZATION AND CONDUCT OF LITERARY SOCIETIES.

All permanent associations formed for mutual benefit must have a Constitution by which they shall be governed.

Where it is intended to organize a society for the intellectual improvement or social enjoyment of its members, a number of persons meet together and select a name for the organization. The next step is to appoint a committee, whose duty it shall be to prepare a _Constitution_ and code of _By-Laws_ for the society. These must be reported to the society at its next meeting, and must be adopted by the votes of a majority of that body before they can take effect.

The Constitution consists of the rules which form the foundation upon which the organization is to rest. It should be brief and explicit. It should be considered and adopted section by section; should be recorded in a book for that purpose, and should be signed by all the members of the society.

Amendments to the Constitution should be adopted in the same way, and should be signed by each member of the society.

In addition to the Constitution, it is usual to adopt a series of minor rules, which should be explanatory of the principles of the Constitution. These are termed _By-Laws_, and should be recorded in the same book with the Constitution, and immediately after it. New by-laws may be added from time to time, as the necessity for them may arise. It is best to have as few as possible. They should be brief, and as clear that their meaning may be easily comprehended, and should govern the action of the body.

CONSTITUTION.

As growth and development of mind, together with readiness and fluency of speech, are the result of investigation and free discussion of religious, education, political, and other topics, the undersigned agree to form an association, and for its government, do hereby adopt the following Constitution:

ARTICLE I.—The name and title of this organization shall be

“The Philomathian Literary Society,”

and its objects shall be the free discussion of any subject coming before the meeting for the purpose of diffusing knowledge among its members.

ARTICLE II.—The officers of the Association shall consist of a President, two Vice-Presidents, a Corresponding Secretary, a Recording Secretary, a Treasurer and a Librarian, who shall be elected annually by ballot, on the first Monday in January of each year, said officers to hold their position until their successors are elected.

ARTICLE III.—It shall be the duty of the President to preside at all public meetings of the Society. The first Vice-President shall preside in the absence of the President, and in case of the absence of both President and Vice-President, it shall be the duty of the second Vice-President to preside.

The duty of the Secretary shall be to conduct the correspondence, keep the records of the Society, and read at each meeting a report of the work done at the preceding meeting.

The Treasurer shall keep the funds of the Society, making an annual report of all moneys received, disbursed, and the amount on hand.

It shall be the duty of the Librarian to keep, in a careful manner, all books, records and manuscripts in the possession of the Society.

ARTICLE IV.—There shall be appointed by the President, at the first meeting after his election, the following standing committees, to consist of three members each, namely: On lectures, library, finance, and printing, whose duties shall be designated by the President.

The question for debate at the succeeding meeting shall be determined by a majority vote of the members present.

ARTICLE V.—Any lady or gentleman may become a member of this Society by the consent of the majority of the members present, the signing of the Constitution, and the payment of two dollars as membership fee. It shall be the privilege of the Society to elect any person whose presence may be advantageous to the Society, an honorary member who shall not be required to pay membership fees or dues.

ARTICLE VI.—This Association shall meet weekly, and at such other times as a majority, consisting of at least five members of the Association, shall determine. The President shall be authorized to call special meetings upon the written request of any five members of the Society, at which meetings one-third of the members shall be sufficient to constitute a quorum for the transaction of business.

ARTICLE VII.—It shall be the duty of the Finance Committee to determine the amount of dues necessary to be collected from each member, and to inform the Treasurer of the amount, who shall promptly proceed to collect the same at such times as the committee may designate.

ARTICLE VIII.—The parliamentary rules and general form of conducting public meetings, as shown in “Cushing’s Manual of Practice,” shall be the standard authority in governing the deliberations of this Association.

ARTICLE IX.—Any member neglecting to pay dues, or who shall be guilty of improper conduct, calculated to bring this Association into disrepute, shall be expelled from the membership of the Society by a two-thirds vote of the members present at any regular meeting. No member shall be expelled, however, until he shall have had notice of such intention on the part of the Association, and has been given an opportunity of being heard in his own defense.

ARTICLE X.—By giving written notice of change at any regular meeting, this Constitution may be altered or amended at the next stated meeting by vote of two-thirds of the members present.

BY-LAWS.

RULE 1.—No question shall be stated unless moved by two members, nor be open for consideration until stated by the chair. When a question is before the Society, no motion shall be received, except to lay on the table, the previous question, to postpone, to refer, or to amend; and they shall have precedence in the order in which they are here arranged.

RULE 2.—When a member intends to speak on a question, he shall rise in his place, and respectfully address his remarks to the President, confine himself to the question, and avoid personality. Should more than one member rise to speak at the same time the President shall determine who is entitled to the floor.

RULE 3.—Every member shall have the privilege of speaking three times on any question under consideration, but not oftener, unless by the consent of the Society (determined by vote); and no member shall speak more than once, until every member wishing to speak shall have spoken.

RULE 4.—The President, while presiding, shall state every question coming before the Society; and immediately before putting it to vote shall ask: “Are you ready for the question?” Should no member rise to speak, he shall rise to put the question; and after he has risen no member shall speak upon it, unless by permission of the Society.

RULE 5.—The affirmative and negative of the question having been both put and answered, the President declares the number of legal votes cast, and whether the affirmative or negative have it.

RULE 6.—All questions, unless otherwise fixed by law, shall be decided by a majority of votes.

RULE 7.—After any question, except one of indefinite postponement, has been decided, any member may move a reconsideration thereof, if done in two weeks after the decision. A motion for reconsideration the second time, of the same question, shall not be in order at any time.

RULE 8.—Any two members may call for a division of a question, when the same will admit of it.

RULE 9.—The President, or any member, may call a member to order while speaking, when the debate must be suspended, and the member take his seat until the question of order is decided.

RULE 10.—The President shall preserve order and decorum; may speak to points of order in preference to other members; and shall decide all questions of order, subject to an appeal to the Society by any member, on which appeal no person shall speak but the President and the member called to order.

RULE 11.—No motion or proposition on a subject different from that under consideration shall be admitted under color of an amendment.

RULE 12.—No addition, alteration, or amendment to the Constitution, By-Laws, etc., shall be acted upon, except in accordance with the Constitution.

RULE 13.—No nomination shall be considered as made until seconded.

RULE 14.—The President shall sign all proceedings of the meetings.

RULE 15.—No member shall vote by proxy.

RULE 16.—No motion shall be withdrawn by the mover unless the second withdraw his second.

RULE 17.—No extract from any book shall be read consuming more than five minutes.

RULE 18.—No motion for adjournment shall be in order until after nine o’clock.

RULE 19.—Every motion shall be reduced to writing, should the officers of the society desire it.

RULE 20.—An amendment to an amendment is in order, but not to amend an amendment to an amendment of a main question.

RULE 21.—The previous question shall be put in this form, if seconded by a majority of the members present: “Shall the main question be put?” If decided in the affirmative, the main question is to be put immediately, and all further debate or amendment must be suspended.

RULE 22.—Members not voting shall be considered as voting in the affirmative, unless excused by the Society.

RULE 23.—Any member offering a protest against any of the proceedings of this Society may have the same, if, in respectful language, entered in full upon the minutes.

RULE 24.—No subject laid on the table shall be taken up again on the same evening.

RULE 25.—No motion shall be debatable until seconded.

RULE 26.—Points of order are debatable to the Society.

RULE 27.—Appeals and motions to reconsider or adjourn are not debatable.

RULE 28.—When a very important motion or amendment shall be made and seconded, the mover thereof may be called upon to reduce the same to writing, and hand it in at the table, from which it shall be read, open to the Society for debate.

RULE 29.—The mover of a motion shall be at liberty to accept any amendment thereto; but if an amendment be offered and not accepted, yet duly seconded, the Society shall pass upon it before voting upon the original motion.

RULE 30.—Every officer, on leaving his office, shall give to his successor all papers, documents, books, or money belonging to the Society.

RULE 31.—No smoking, and no refreshments except water, shall be allowed in the Society’s hall.

RULE 32.—When a motion to adjourn is carried, no member shall leave his seat until the President has left his chair.

RULE 33.—No alteration can be made in these rules of order without a four-fifth vote of the society, and two weeks’ notice; neither can they be suspended, but by a like vote, and then for the evening only.

SUGGESTED SUBJECTS FOR DEBATE

1. Should there be a Board of Arbitration appointed by the Government for Settling Disputes between Employees and Employers?

2. Is England Rising or Falling as a Nation?

NOTE.—Compare the Elements of Modern with the Elements of Ancient Prosperity.

3. Has Nature or Education the Greater Influence in the Formation of Character?

4. From which does the Mind gain the more Knowledge, Reading or Observation?

5. Is the Character of Queen Elizabeth deserving of our Admiration?

6. Is an Advocate Justified in Defending a Man whom he Knows to be Guilty of the Crime with which he is Charged?

7. Which does the most to Produce Crime—Poverty, Wealth, or Ignorance?

8. Is a Limited Monarchy, like that of England, the Best Form of Government?

9. Is not Private Virtue essentially requisite to Greatness of Public Character?

10. Is Eloquence a Gift of Nature, or may it be Acquired?

11. Is Genius an Innate Capacity?

12. Is a Rude or a Refined Age the More Favorable to the Production of Works of Imagination?

13. Is the Shakespearian the Augustan Age of English Literature?

14. Ought Pope to Rank in the First Class of Poets?

15. Has the Introduction of Machinery been Generally Beneficial to Mankind?

16. Which Produce the Greater Happiness, the Pleasures of Hope or of Memory?

17. Is the Existence of Parties in the State Favorable to the Public Welfare?

18. Is there any Ground for Believing in the Ultimate Perfection and Universal Happiness of the Human Race?

19. Is Co-operation more Adapted to Promote the Virtue and Happiness of Mankind than Competition?

20. Was the Banishment of Napoleon to St. Helena a Justifiable Proceeding?

21. Ought Persons to be Excluded from the Civil Offices on Account of their Religious Opinions?

22. Which Exercises the Greater Influence on the Civilization and Happiness of the Human Race, the Male or the Female Mind?

23. Which did the Most to Produce the French Revolution, the Tyranny of the Government, the Excesses of the Higher Orders, or the Writings of Voltaire, Montesquieu and Rousseau?

24. Which was the Greater Poet, Byron or Burns?

25. Is there Reasonable Ground for Believing that the Character of Richard the Third was not so Atrocious as is Generally Supposed?

26. Does Happiness or Misery Preponderate in Life?

27. Should the Press be Totally Free?

28. Do Modern Geological Discoveries Agree with Holy Writ?

29. Did Circumstances Justify the First French Revolution?

30. Could not Arbitration be Made a Substitute for War?

31. Which Character is the More to be Admired, that of Loyola or Luther?

32. Are there Good Grounds for Applying the Term “Dark” to the Middle Ages?

33. Which was the Greater Poet, Chatterton or Cowper?

34. Are Public or Private Schools to be Preferred?

35. Is the System of Education Pursued at our Universities in Accordance with the Requirements of the Age?

36. Which is the More Healthful Exercise, Bicycle Riding or Walking?

37. Does the Game of Foot-Ball Produce more Evil than Beneficial Effects?

38. Would the Free and Unlimited Coinage of both Silver and Gold be better than the Single Gold Standard in America?

39. Should Women be Granted the Right to Vote on all State and National Questions?

40. Would Absolute Prohibition be a Benefit to the Country?

TABLEAUX FOR PUBLIC ENTERTAINMENTS.

JOAN OF ARC AT THE STAKE.

CHARACTER AND COSTUME.

MAIDEN.—Loose, white robe, wing-like sleeves, displaying arm; hair long, loose, and flowing over shoulders.

THE TABLEAU.

A large post in centre of stage, around which are piled fagots. Fastened to the post by means of a chain around the waist stands the maiden, with eyes cast upward, and the whole attitude that of exaltation. A strong red light suddenly thrown upon the lower part of the picture, from both sides, will produce the effect of ignited wood.

Music, if any, triumphant.

WINTER IN THE LAP OF SPRING.

CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES.

WINTER.—Black, loose dress to the feet, fur cap, white wig, and long white beard; dress flecked with bits of cotton, to represent snow; face full and florid. The part may be taken by a lady.

SPRING.—Trailing loose dress of white, sleeves draped so as to show arm to elbow; scarf and sash of pink; long, flowing, yellow hair; sprays of roses and other flowers gracefully fastened on the dress; wealth of flowers on the head.

THE TABLEAU.

Spring is seated on a chair, over which may be thrown a covering of white or pink, upon which are scattered profusely sprays of flowers. She holds at her side a golden sceptre.

Winter is seated in the lap of Spring holding extended in his right hand a sceptre of black.

THERE’S NO ROSE WITHOUT A THORN.

The scene is a parlor.—Standing in the foreground is a young girl, simply dressed. In her left hand she has a rose, and holding out her right hand shows to her companion the scratches made by the thorns (a little carmine paint, put on with a fine camel’s-hair pencil, makes very painless scratches.) Her companion, a young man dressed as a mechanic’s apprentice (a carpenter’s, butcher’s, shoemaker’s or any other trade), is, with a look of sympathy, raising the wounded hand to his lips. Behind the young man stands his employer, with an expression of rage, raising a rope about to strike the apprentice. He is not perceived by either of the young people.

In the background is a child, with a look of great glee, putting its fingers into a jar, marked jam, while the mother, behind the child, is raising her hand to box its ears.

A NUN AT HER DEVOTIONS.

It hardly needs description. A background of dark brown gauze, very faintly lighted at the upper right-hand corner; a dress of black serge or stuff, with black veil and white coif; a crucifix and rosary—these are the very simple materials needed. Let the light fall from the left-hand upper corner in front. Choose your nun for the beauty of her eyes, the regularity and refinement of feature, and the elegance of her hands.

TABLEAU WITH RECITALS.

_Characters._

POET.—A young man with long hair and wide linen collar turned down over coat collar.

STATUE.—Personated by a young woman in white, with arms bare.

(_The Poet speaks._)

Thou holdest me, thou holdest me,
O marble presence, cold and fair.
I cannot draw my feet past thee
Within thy niche above the stair.

I found thee in a mossy cave—
The entrance to a buried shrine;
The rocks around a shudder gave
As thence I bore my prize divine.

What master wrought thee long ago—
Who but Pygmalion’s scholar apt?
The rose upon thy cheek of snow
Ofttimes he saw in vision rapt.

The day upspringing in thine eye
He fancied now, and now it seemed
A hovering smile, a gradual sigh,
Thy lips from silence dead redeemed;

But, dying ere the moment ripe
When thou should’st gather vital fire,
He left thee, a half-conscious type
Of Love and Love’s unvoiced desire.

Thou holdest me, thou holdest me,
O marble presence, cold and fair!
Now let thy prisoned soul be free,
Thy breast its long-sealed fate declare.

(_The Statue speaks._)

Thou troublest me, thou troublest me!
A thousand years unused to speech,
Why should the charm dissolve for thee,
Or why to thee my secret teach?

Not Paros, nor Pentelicus,
E’er held me in its quarried hill;
Nor master’s chisel carved me thus,
With lofty thought and patient skill.

Ah, surely, not Pygmalion’s hand
Unprisoned me, through loving art—
I, who in marble moveless stand,
Once held quick veins and pulsing heart;

Love, changed to hate, wrought this cold change
I froze beneath his bitter eye;
Love, changed to Hate—transformer strange—
Forbade me live, forbade me die!

Thou troublest me, thou troublest me;
No further question; go thy way!
He, only, who could set me free,
Hath long since crumbled back to clay!

Thy soul in peace if thou would’st save,
And give forgetfulness to mine,
Restore me to that mossy cave,
The entrance to a buried shrine!

EDITH M. THOMAS.

CINDERELLA’S SLIPPER.

(This beautiful tableau may be represented in three or four scenes, with fine dress effect.)

SCENE I.

Cinderella meanly clad, the sisters and Prince in costliest attire. One of the sisters is eagerly bent on forcing her foot into the slipper.

A very large shoe, which she has just vacated, is on the floor beside her. The other, her face and attitude showing keenest disappointment, has just put on her shoe. These shoes, while nicely made, should be the largest that can be had. The slipper may be of white satin, small and handsome.

SCENE II.

Cinderella, having begged permission to try on the slipper, has just seated herself, withdrawn her shoe and placed a dainty foot on the cushion beside the slipper. The sisters give her a scornful and reproachful look.

SCENE III.

Cinderella, having put on the slipper, has just drawn from her pocket its mate. The sisters, bewildered and dumfounded, have thrown themselves at her feet. This scene makes a fitting conclusion to the performance, and the next two scenes should not be attempted unless the appliances are at hand to make Cinderella imagination’s richest queen.

SCENE IV.

The fairy has touched her clothes with the magic wand, and Cinderella has become a being of marvelous beauty. Her gorgeous splendor dazzles the eyes of the Prince. She helps her sisters to their feet, and shows, as before, no resentment for past insult.

SCENE V.

Cinderella and the Prince, arm in arm, prepare to leave the stage, followed by the sisters.

LISTENERS HEAR NO GOOD OF THEMSELVES.

The scene is a parlor.—In the foreground are two young girls, one of whom holds a miniature out to the other, who puts it aside, with an expression of angry contempt. The first girl is laughing heartily, and pointing her finger at the second, as if teasing her about the picture.

Peeping out from behind a window-curtain is a young man, who, with an expression of perfect rage, is shaking his fist at the ladies.

1. THE BIRTHPLACE OF CHARLES DICKENS, COMMERCIAL ROAD, PORTSEA. 2. THE “DARK COURT” IN FLEET STREET, (JOHNSON’S COURT) WHERE DICKENS POSTED HIS FIRST SKETCH. 3. THE HOUSE IN FURNIVAL’S INN WHERE “PICKWICK” WAS WRITTEN. 4. CHARLES DICKENS EDITING “HOUSEHOLD WORDS.” 5. THE CHURCH IN WHICH DICKENS WAS MARRIED, ST. LUKE’S, CHELSEA. 6. GAD’S HILL PLACE, ROCHESTER, THE NOVELISTS’ LAST HOME. 7. THE MOAT, ROCHESTER CASTLE, WHERE DICKENS DESIRED TO BE BURIED.]

“It was all about a—ha! ha! and a—ho! ho! ho!—well really;
It is—he! he! he!—I never could begin to tell you.”

(A Fine Study of Mirth)]

(Suggestion for Tableau.)]

(Suggestion For Tableau.)

“Jessie tired, mamma; good-night, papa; Jessie see you in the morning.”]

(Suggestion for Tableau)]

CHERRY RIPE, RIPE, RIPE, I CRY,
FULL AND FAIR ONES—COME AND BUY!]

(Suggestion For Tableau)]

WHOEVER WOULD BRING DOWN HER GAME,
MUST STRING HER BOW AND TAKE SURE AIM.]

(Suggestion For Tableau.)

“Jesus I would be like thee,
Look from heaven and pity me.
Though so full of sin I am,
Make me now thy little lamb.”]

(Suggestion for Tableau)

“All day I wander to and fro
Hungry and shivering and nowhere to go
Oh! Why does the wind blow upon me so wild?
Is it because I’m nobody’s child?”]

THEY TELL ME I MUST DO IT JUST SO,
I WONDER IF THEY THINK THAT I DON’T KNOW.]

OUR GREAT GRANDPARENTS WERE ONCE YOUNG, TOO,
AND THIS IS THE WAY THEY USED TO DO.]

“I’M NOT QUITE SURE I’LL TAKE YOU FOR MY MAID;”
“WELL NOBODY ASKED YOU TO,” SHE SAID.]

ALAS, HOW LIGHT A CAUSE MAY MOVE
DISSENSION BETWEEN HEARTS THAT LOVE]

“Out swept the squadrons, fated three hundred
Into the battle-line steady and full;”]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

OH, COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN,
THE HOME OF THE BRAVE AND THE FREE.]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

With her waves of golden hair
Floating free,
Hilda ran along the shore,
Gazing oft the waters o’er;
And the fishermen replied:
“He will come in with the tide,”
As they saw her golden hair
Floating free!]

“‘Will you iver be done wid your graneness,’ she axed me wid a loud scrame.”]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

“SOCIETY IS QUICK TO TRACE
THE MAGIC OF A PLEASING FACE”]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]

PHOTO. BY MORRISON, CHICAGO]