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And there were those who thought he put too All of Robert's days in a school-house lay bemuch time into lectures,

tween his fifth and ninth years. After that he But in spite of his few faults, the body of his was a good student at the forge, lunching on books people loved him well. It lay in their plan to while he blew the bellows or switched the flies advance his salary, though he assured me they from a customer's horse. At fourteen he left paid him all he earned. They also were about to Keighley (his birthplace) to become apprentice at provide him a lieutenant, let him preach at his Ilkley. There he grew, labored, and borrowed leisure, and pension him when too old to preach books in sight of the Brontes' Haworth home and at all. Having tarried in the West, possibly it the house where Heber had composed many hymns. was a mistake that he let go Chicago's Unity to There, too, at twenty-four he took his first text. take hold of New York's Messiah, in the fall of And two years later he took a wife and emigrated 79. Still, he is one of the largest digits, not the to America. On this side the sea, as a man among ciphers, on the Knickerbocker slate.

Americans, I trust you now know him fairly well. By way of ending biography where the subject Let us leave Robert Collyer with an incident in began,-at the small end,—the boy Robert merits proof that his self-culture to the chorus of his a type or two, though the record is familiar. His Yorkshire anvil was wise, and placed him far grandfather, if you care to turn back so far, fell above the average common people of his county. beside Nelson at Trafalgar; and, thereupon, his Directly he reached this country, he addressed us father became heir to the London poor-house. But well in our own words. Yet, about that date, a soon a Yorkshire worker in iron picked him out Yorkshire farmer was summoned into court at for “a bright yn” and led him thither, where he Liverpool, only thirteen miles away. His rude worked hard, married a gracious orphan girl, and patois could not be understood, and an interpreter reared Robert-service enough to the world. had to be called.

LORA.

BY PAUL PASTNOR.

EIGHTH MOVEMENT.-PREMONITIONS.

So the days passed for a week, and the maiden was busy, High on the sand-bar were breaking the cold autumn bil- Even more skilled than of old in her humble home duties. lows,

Still she

gave time to the children; she decked them with Gloomy and sad was the sky, and the wild gulls were trifles, screaming;

Taught winning ways to her sisters, and gallantry's graces Yet was the cottage of farmer Laroix never brighter: Unto her brothers; she told them love-stories by twilight. Lora at last had returned, and her presence was sunshine. Osttimes Gillaume, the prince of her brothers, the eldest, Child," cried the meek, wond’ring mother, “how queenly Nearly as tall as his sister, and looking toward manhood, art getting !

She would beguile to the orchard, and there fill his bosom Six changeful weeks at the tavern have made thee a With the fond secrets of maidens, the little love fancies, woman."

Which he would certainly win! said his proud, smiling Also her father, when home he returned in the evening,

sister. Bowed to the beautiful lady—then knew her, and kissed Then up and down, through the ranks of the ugly gray tree

trunks, “Who brought thee back ?” he inquired, in his practical Twisted and old and uncouth,- out of tune with loveman's way.

prattle, Or didst thou drift with the wind, like a leaf from the oak. They two would walk, arm-in-arm, not as brother and sister,

But with the ardent conceit of another companion ! “ Nay,” answered Lora, her hazel eyes dropping before Bareheaded thus, with the sunlight ensnared in her tresses, him,

Lora was strolling, one late afternoon, with her brother, “One of the guests brought me down--in poor Oliver's Pensively quiet, and pressing more close to his shoulder carriage."

Than was her wont, when the gliding of wheels filled the Then fell a gloom and a silence, as Lora intended.

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“Oh, it is Luke!” cried the maiden; and straightway her Leaneil o'er and kissed her-because all the stars swept to brother

kissing! Felt the wild leap of her heart, on his shoulder escaping, Also her billowing breast, like the sway of a curtain, Meanwhile, the wondering boy, in pursuit of his sister, When the glad captive has listed its edge, and departed. Came to the bounds of the orchard, unnoticed, unthought of, Up through the gnarled, twisted trees flew the light-footed Marked with amazement the thrice-given kiss of the stranger, maiden,

And with light steps stole away to impart the dread secret! Fair as a baby's first dream from the cavern of Pluto! Farmer Laroix he espied, from the furrow returning, · Lora-my love !" cried Luke Gleason, in happy amaze- Wrapt in the glory of age, and a halo of sunset. ment.

Peacefully calm were the father's reflections; and, smiling, “ Am I enchanted, like one who woke up in a palace, He with his spirit communed, as he drew near the cottage : Found all he wished at the beck of his half-dreaming fancy, “God's way is best, for He knoweth the future of all things. Or are you truly so fond that you run thus to meet me?" Harsh though it seem, still the end of his wisdom is kindAnswered the maiden no word, for her lover was mystic, Spake like a wonderful prince, and her heart was delighted. “ Father!" the echoing voice of the boy interrupted; Only she stood by the wheel, and her dark silken lashes “ Lora is out in the road, and a man has just kissed her!” Spake for her eyes, with an eloquent rising and falling. Straightway the sun hid his face in the hills to the westward. Therefore he kissed her ('twas mellow as fruit, and the And the old man seemed to reel on the edge of the shadow. branch shook)!

(To be continued).

ness

THE DAILY PAPERS.

BY ELEANOR MOORE HIESTAND.

In spite of our blatant boasting, is it not an balanced, desires also to know the precise value unfortunate fact that American journalism has of every weight in either scale. To gratify this fallen upon evil days? A superficial observer, curiosity, a leaf of political instruction is served misled by the number and size of our papers, up every morning with tea; when our politician their comprehensive and exhaustive contents, and has feasted upon this, he repairs to a coffee-house, by what we call their enterprise, might, perhaps, in order to ruminate upon what he has read, and feel called upon to resent such an imputation; increase his collection ; from thence he proceeds but would he be justified in so doing? This to the ordinary, inquires what news, and treasquery, of course, does not apply to those holiday uring up every acquisition there, hunts about all publications which appear only once a week, or the evening in quest of more, and carefully adds once a month, and which are enriched with the it to the rest. Thus at night he returns home, mature thought, adorned with the fine rhetoric, of full of the important advices of the day: when men of letters, who, as compared with the hum- lo! awaking next morning he finds the instructions drum, overworked editor of a daily, the common- of yesterday a collection of absurdity and palpa. place journalist, are gentlemen of elegant leisure. ble falsehood." Our complaints and our praises are alike reserved Without lingering over the sharp but delicate for those courier sheets which are served up every satire couched in the amusing epitome of the daily morning with breakfast, and which we digest news which follows close upon this quotation in with our coffee and rolls.

one of the famous Chinese Letters, we cannot News getting in this country amounts to a help wondering, if such were the naïve comments mania. I have often thought how aptly a certain of the distinguished Lien Chi Atlaugi upon observation of Dr. Goldsmith's concerning the English quidnuncs, what would he say to the English people of the last century might be temper and conduct of American newsmongers ? applied to us. In the character of a Citizen of A taste which we have not been at any pains to the World, he wrote to that august but mythical suppress, a habit confirmed by indulgence, has personage, Fum Hoam, as follows: “An English- increaseď our faculty for absorbing news. We man not satisfied with finding, by his own pros- have a growing appetite for the cream of the perity, the contending powers of Europe properly telegraphic advices, and our daily papers are skimming the four corners of the earth to satisfy on my curiosity; its very volume takes the edge this abnormal craving. We are not, however, off my appetite for its contents. I am like an ourselves entirely responsible for this gluttonous invalid who relishes some not over-abundant curiosity. The papers first aroused in us this dainty, delicately served, but whose caprice regreed for news. They tickled our intellectual volts from a vulgar superabundance, however palates with telegraphic tidbits till they engendered excellent the viands. My piquant solicitude for an appetite, and we, thinking no harm could come the world's welfare receives a rebuff. In traveling from such an innocent indulgence, abandoned the up one column and down another, holding up the curb. Our literary taste, hitherto delicate and skirts of my fancy as I step over leads and quads, discriminating, thrived upon this fare better than I meditate upon that trite old paradox, “The it was expected to. It grew in strength and vo- longest way round is the nearest way home." I racity, in arrogance and impudence, till the fool feel much as though, in response to a kind inquiry hardy journalist found himself at the mercy of for his health, my friend had treated me to a the monster he had been harboring. To-day he diagnosis of his disease, had made the egregious is groaning under the pressure of a heavy contract blunder, in short, of supposing that I was deeply He is bound to furnish news in quantity and interested in all the complicated details of the quality acceptable to this omnivorous appetite, or malady from which he is suffering. else submit to be broken on the wheel of public The chances are, too, that as my eyes wander opinion. The only circumstance in his favor is through the labyrinth of incidents and accidents that we have a stomach like an ostrich.

on the pages of my paper, I encounter the anIt seems, too, that there can be no limit placed nouncement that the enterprising publisher conpon this growing demand for news. The popu. templates increasing its area by a column or so, Jar opinion is that it is incompatible with progress and that hereafter he will issue a double sheet on for us to rest content with the same quota of news certain days of the week. Heavens! I ejaculate. that satisfied us ten years ago. As we reach a More “news?" Perhaps he has a fertile fancy,higher pitch of civilization, we expect our journals or a long exchange list, which is much the same to change their form and substance to suit our thing,—and means to pad his telegrams with altered condition. This would be rather com- “punjaub,” i. e. snake and fish stories, sailors' mendable than otherwise, if the demand were yarns, reporters' vagaries, bad poetry, and worse only for better selected matter, for items of graver jokes! I am utterly undone. import and less sensational character. But the Why do you read the papers if they offend you cry is an indiscriminate one for more news, and so ? my friend inquired, not without reason. He the cable, the telegraph, the telephone, and the don't understand me, though. I am quite as post are pressed into harder service. In order to eager for news as he is; but I want news, and I meet the multifarious requirements of popular refuse to be satisfied with anything else. I do taste, our newspapers have felt it incumbent upon not want persiflage and poetry, scandal and clapthem to present contents of an unbounded variety trap. I would like to have pithy and pungent and of a most exhaustive character. They have telegrams, pertinent observations "boiled down" to do it, or they will lose patronage and support. and left to simmer. My friend suggests that there If they didn't, their reputation would be forever are plenty of those in our daily papers. He inblasted by the damning accusation that they were stances the Twinkler. I know all about the wanting in enterprise, the sine qua non of journal- | Twinkler. It is a very good paper in some reistic success.

spects-ah! that saving clause! It shares, alas ! But is there not something surfeiting in so much the common fault. Its merit is too widely difnews? Is it not a diet apt to cloy on one's palate fused. Its pages are filled with the rank vegetaoccasionally? Do we not often experience a sort tion of the sanctum. To get at the news I must of embarras de richesse? For myself, I confess I wade through a reportorial marsh which almost often have a feeling of repugnance for the typo- swamps me.

Yet I feel obliged to read every graphic monster who enthrones himself at the word in the Twinkler. I have some personal breakfast-table. Moist from the press, and reek- pride, I would have you know, and I choose to ing with printer's ink, it falls like a wet blanket protect myself against embarrassing inquiries. It may be that I am an unfortunate wretch; but this of thought than is desirable. What proportion I know, that as sure as I skip a column, a para- do you suppose of the readers of our daily papers graph, or even one of those dispiriting puns, my take the trouble to think out for themselves any friend accosts me, and says in a suggestive man- knotty question of finance or economy? Do not ner: “I suppose you saw Thundergun's latest in the vast majority of them accept their opinions the Twinkler this morning ?” My shame-faced ready-made from the press ? Unfortunately, the negation astounds him. He stares blankly, and average individual is not a person of such broad so pities my dullness, my mental inertia, that he intelligence, nor is he fired with such an inextinundertakes to tell me the whole thing with much guishable purpose to get knowledge, that he can verbiage !

wholly resist the temptation, or at least escape the If Mr. C— enlarges the Twinkler—and he influence, brought to bear upon him by a pro. will-I shall have to read its extra columns and tracted series of editorials. He finds in it what its double-sheet edition with stoical persistence, or ems to him a free discussion of the subject at reconcile myself to the ignominious position of issue, but what is really in most cases a purely a person who is “ behind the times.” If the news. partisan view; he sees an imposing array of argupaper editors and proprietors would only give us ments, he absorbs conclusions promulgated with a less to read, would store the grain, but send the finality which seems to preclude his right to enter chaff adrift, how enviable would be the lot of their the realm of thought on his own account. Unsubscribers! Conversely, if the public taste were consciously he allows his opinions to be formulated more uniform and more correct, if only two people on the plan before him. He reads but one paper, would hold the same opinion occasionally, how easy unfortunately, and by constantly adopting its prinwould be the task of getting out a good paper ! ciples he grows one-sided. He is an unsymmetrical

Mr. C— observes that he has taken warning man. He has put on his ideas like a cloak, forfrom the awful fate of the man who tried to pub-getting that their particular fabric only fits him lish a paper that would please everybody. That for one kind of weather, that they are after all the man has degenerated into a babbling idiot. Ah, fallible opinions of a man and not the inspired me! But all the same, I sigh for a paper bristling utterances of an oracle. Such is the strange with terse observations delivered in a clear, in- deference with which the press ever surrounds cisive style, arranged in a compact and convenient itself. Thus, by the subtle sophistries of an interform, not spread in a thin layer over so much ested editor, are we enticed into a habit of superspace. A few editions of the Twinkler would pad ficial thought and inconsequent reasoning. a good-sized carpet, and I must cut it up in sec- The idea that the daily newspapers set up for tions if I want to read it on the street-cars, or else autocrats and educators is little more than a beaubeg the privilege of spreading it like an afghan tiful fallacy. The most independent of them all is over my neighbor's kness. Above all, I want a a mere parasite on the body politic. It is a reposipaper which I can read in less than a half a day. tory of opinions, an exponent of public taste, and I am a person of comparative leisure ; but, if I no one but a fatuous theorist would expect it to undertake to read the Twinkler every day, not to be anything else. We recognize in our newsspeak of the Dazzler, which appears in the after-papers the agency of men of business, seeking noon, I have not much time to spare. What favor and subscribers. If in a moment of lofty chance, then, I ask you, has the ordinary man of indignation we deplore this prostitution of the business to gain the most casual acquaintance with press in high-sounding phrases and dolorous comgeneral literature, if he reads his paper carefully? plaints, let us remember that we have contributed

I suppose that if it were to be conceded that our influence to the formation of its character. our papers are too voluminous, the question of It would not require a Herculean effort to reducing their size would incite many a quarrel. eliminate the grossest faults that now mar the How the general public would deride the sugges- effectiveness of our papers. It would not, for intion that we should have no more editorials! Yet stance, be a difficult matter to disabuse the jourwould not that be a desirable contingency? It nalist's mind of that odd idea that he secures a seems very clear to me that our present system of stronger hold upon the public by discarding the editing a paper tends to create less independence last vestiges of that scholarly style which formerly distinguished his fraternity. It would indeed be unlettered people, asked me if I would not give unjust for us to expect irreproachable diction of a him a certain copy of the New York Herald which man who is forced to grind out “copy," in the I had. The request surprised me. He had never mood or out of it, with hardly leisure enough to asked for the paper before, and I knew that he read over what he has written, much less revise it. took more kindly to the Clipper. Upon inquiry, We expect no rhetorical miracles. We do not however, I discovered that he was anxious to ask the editor to mend his style, but we beg him obtain the Herald because he had been told that to refrain from mutilating it. It is distressing to it contained a most minute and graphic account notice the apparent paucity of expression that of the late murder in Hoboken! And here I may hampers the pens of our journalists. They have observe that I have been very much gratified by reared a new family of words and phrases, squalid the intelligence that a bill has been introduced and sickly, the progeny of vulgar colloquialisms. into the Michigan Legislature imposing a fine of They have immersed their editorials in a fountain $1000 and imprisonment for a year on any person -a river-an ocean of slang. It is such a con- publishing an account of a murder or hanging.

It has force if it has not elegance, and then this that the tendency of this charnel-house literature bizarre style of writing is the fashion. What a is to increase the percentage of crime in our midst. strange defense! No one adopts the lingo of a I can easily comprehend the verdict of that New prize-fighter as his model in drawing-room con- York jury which ascribed the late suicide of a versation. No one talks slang in the beau monde. young girl in that city to an overwrought fancy These loose-jointed words are the relaxations we worked up to the fatal pitch by brooding over allow ourselves occasionally when we chat with current accounts of similar acts of desperation. an intimate friend. We are forced to forego them The melo-drama of our newspapers is too vulgar in public. How is it that the editor whose utter- to exert any influence over older and more intelliances are the cynosure of every eye indulges gent persons; but its effect upon the young and himself with impunity in such verbal license unreasoning mind can easily be understood by one simply because he can hide his personality behind who is sensible of the subtle power wielded over the screen of his paper?

the most refined and cultivated by a certain class American newspapers, while they are in many of writers. I cannot conceive of a more effective respects peerless and above reproach, have faults stimulant to morbid tastes than the stories of Mr. peculiarly their own. They are astute, far-sighted, Edgar Poe. I should not like to be held responsound in logic, quick of wit, not without appre- sible for their effects upon the mind and conduct of ciation or devoid of taste, and, above all, full of any one who was given to their constant perusal. enterprise, and of an indomitable determination Yet the carefully worked up accounts of tragic to keep up with the times. But these qualities denouements which appear in our papers from day fail to elicit their meed of commendation, because to day are even more insinuating and seductive they are shorn of their greatest glory, pure diction to some persons, and they are more widely cirand fine phraseology-also because they are tainted culated. with that sensationalism which is the bane alike This gratification of a morbid fancy for horrible of our literature and art.

details is, of course, the worst phase of sensationIt would, perhaps, seem as though we were push-alism ; but the same spirit crops out in a hundred ing our prerogative if we ventured to decide what ways. One of the shallowest and most ridiculous was to be tabooed and what was not. It cannot, devices of the newspapers to attract attention parhowever, be taken in bad part if we suggest that takes of this character. I have in mind the headour papers are too deeply steeped in gore. It is line mania. A journalist once told me that it was not the most desirable thing in the world to have much more difficult to write a head-line than to the coming generation brought up on blood and write an article. That depends, I think. If it is thunder. The evils of such a system of nourish- to be a simple, unassuming title, it will spring up ment were very strongly suggested to my mind by of itself; if it must be an illustrated index and an occurrence of a few days ago. A lad of about table of contents with preface attached, it will fourteen years of age, whose parents are poor, need to be carefully cultivated. I can understand

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