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<jfl|c itlcclily Jerald. B. E FISK 0. Ä. FISK. »7j. FISK" Publishers and Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana -O Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: One Year. (In ndvance).............................S3 00 Hix Months, (In advance)............................... 1 75 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the r>*<e will be Four Dollars per yeaii Postage, in all cases, Prepaia. DAILY HERALD: City Subscribers.delivered by carrier 81.00a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 8'.» 00 Six Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. *#*A11 communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishera, Helena, Montana. FAKEWELL. Foreseen thro' all or glad, bright summer days Has been this parting hour, when sep'rute ways We'd walk once more. Your holiday is over, and you must Meet sterner duties elsewhere, net, I trust. More weakly than before. Not weaker for this dose communion, dear. Soul unto soul, But stronger for man's duties, that stern part In life's allotment that our heart Has chosen for its goal. Your pathway lies in other places. And raid new scenes and fairer faces You will forget, While 1 walk on among the olden duties With mute regret. Ah, me! how fain my womans heart would think Not valueless nor easily snapped the link That binds us now. From the deepest undercurrent of tlio't. Flow ing from mind to mina twas forged and wrought, And yet I trow, Not glass more brittle is. Alas ! the heart. Which in our friendship has had so lhtle part— Been counted vain— « ou Id weave from nothingness a stronger tie Than this l'.atonlc chain. 'And so farewell, my friend." my poor heart says ; Farewell, dear, golden summer days." THE SOUTHERN OIKI-. Her dimpled cheeks are pale ; she's a lilv of the vale, Not a rose. In a muslin or a lawn she is fairer than the dawn To her beaus. Her floots are slim and neat, she is warm al>out the feet. it is said. 'he amputates her r's. But her eyes are like the star Overhead. On a balcony at night With a tleecy cloud of white Round her hair— Her grace, ah. who could paint she would fascinate a saint. I declare. Tis a matter of regret, she's a bit of a coquette Whom I sing. On lier cruel path she g<>e~ With a half a dozen beaus To her string. But let all that pass by. As her maiden moments ily. Dew ein pearled. When she marries, on my life. She will make the deare't wife In the world. The Enamored Ornithologist. I have a love—I call her dove - And she is passing fair, oh! Though plump is she, there are who say She's tv hat they call a sparrow. Unto the duck I'd weave a song, Yet how shall I begin it? For, though her head is plumed with There's very little linnet. Canary love lie like this love That keeps my heart a throbkiu*? It steels my thought by night and day And all my peace is robin. Oh. what a goose am I to quail When near the pretty sinner; For if I cassowary much, I should pigeon and winner. I .Id, No 1'ishing for Him. All the fools may go a-fishing If they choose; I've no patience that I'm wishing Thus to lose; Let them broil 'neath sun, and swelter, Give to me But the genial shade and shelter Of a tree. Life is far too great a treasure, And the cost Of such mockery of pleasure Is time lost. No! I have no use for fishes On a line, Therefore, served in dainty dishes. Give me mine. —Boston Budget. ^One Touch of Nature, Etc. There are some evils all must share And equally endure. Some miseries the rich must bear As often as the poor. When blazing are the solar fires And shirts to shoulders stick. The fat rich man blows, puffs, perspires, As much as lab'rer Dick. The poor man bathing in the pool Dreads not the noonday glare, There he can keep himself as cool As any millionaire. — Boston Courier. A Woman at tho Bottom of It. That women thus should scold and grieve At men for alcoholic shakt-s. Seems wrong, fer well we know 'twasEve That first had aught to do with snakes. —Washington Critic. jocompatiDiiity. Jenkins—Ah! my dear fellow, I under stand that you and Miss Ponsonby are friends no longer. De Slingsby—Yes, I've given her the cut diweet. J.—Indeed! What was the matter? De S.—Oli, her tastes are too horwid, 'pon honor. J.—In what respect? De S.—Why. sho weally pwefers some one pIso to me.—Boston Budget. Could Do Something for Her, ' Tongue cannot tell how much I love you, iliss Clara," lie said. "I would do anything in the world for you." ' Would you?" she asked, wearily. ''Try me." ''Well, go and spend the evening with Lily Brown." 'Lily Brown! What for?" he asked, aston ished. T hate her."—New York Sun. It I» Generally Thus. The Rev. Mr. Highflyer—I delivered that *rmon Offband. I hadn't given it a mo* ] nent s thought. How did you like it? Frank earer—I can't say. You see, I didn't give 1 11 moR ient's thought, either —Unidentified. THE NATION'S HEAD. SOLDIERS WHO PERISHED THAT THEIR COUNTRY MIGHT LIVE. Something Almut the Soldiers' Cemeteries at Vicksburg, Neiv Orleans ami Other Points—List of National Cemeteries. The lllne anil the Gray. [Special Correspondence.] Vicksburg, Aug. 30. On Fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread ; And glory guards with jealous round The bivouac of the dead. This verse from a Confederate general's poem is cast in bronze and set up with other lines of similar sentiment in eighty-one na tional cemeteries, where sleep those who died that "under God, government of the people, by the people and for the jieople might not perish from the earth." The largest cemetery maintained by the government is here at the chief city of the bayou state. There are Hl.OOfi headstones in this great assembly of TV-. w AT VICKSBURG— ISST. the dead—soldiers that have stacked their arms and surrendered to the final conqueror. One of the principal features of Vicksburg is this vast cemetery. The rough and ragged hills which form a part of tho bank of the Father of Waters have been fashioned into a place of profound beauty and impressive ness. Forty-seven acres are inclosed, in tho improvement of which the government has expended more than £000,000. Ten men, under charge of a superintendent—a private soldier from Ohio—are constantly em played in keeping the grounds in order. On the most elevated point stands the monument, or what is left of it, originally erected on the spot w here Grant and Pemberton arranged l'or the surrender of the city after the long and terrible siege. Relic hunters had so defaced it by chipping off pieces that to save it from utter destruction it was removed to the cemetery and a cannon substituted. Be low us sweeps the majestic river, but since the siege it avoids the town and strikes the bluff a mile or so below tho old landing. The former bed of the river is now a lake, and where the great gunboats lay and belched fire ami destruction into the devoted city is now a bank of sand covered,with a growth of coarse grasses and underbrush. All around the city are signs of combat. Such war, such waste, such fiery tracks of dearth. Nature, however, is busy repairing the rav ages of man. With the magic use of sun shine and rain she is smoothing the earth works and tilling up the rifle pits. In this Vicksburg city of silence, with more inhabitants than in the living city, there are 12.1 10 graves marked with head stones which bear numbers only, the occu pants being unknown. The bones of these unidentified sleepers were gathered from battlefields, near and remote, brought here by contract. A price was given for each, VIEW FROM VICKSBURG CEMETERY, and negroes scoured the country for skele tons. It is claimed that old negro grave yards were robbed and their contents brought to this place of l>eauty, and laid side by side with the brave boys of the northland who died in the heat and dust, in the cold and rain, with wounds and with fever, and so far away from home. Peace and pity for the soldier, but what of the mercenary who for liis pieces of silver practiced such a w icked imposition? Of the stones standing at tho head of each grave only 3,89o contain inscrip tions, which include name, compati}' ami regiment, and in case of officers the rank. At Chalmette cemetery, just below New Orleans, there are 12,521 graves, with 5,G74 unknown occupants. The hospitals con tributed full share to the known dead of Chalmette. This cemetery covers fifteen and a half acres and is apart of the site of the battlefield on w hich Jackson repulsed Pack euham's men and saved New Orleans during the war of 1812-14, which event is duly com memorated on the 8th of January, every year, by the people of the Crescent City. The cemetery wall crosses the line of earthworks throw n up by the Americans, and on which the cotton bales w ere placed to give additional protection from the bullets of tho invaders. The location is greatly unlike that at Vicks burg; here the ground is level as a floor, with the surface of the river above, the water kept from submerging it and tho surrounding country ami city only by a mere wall of earth; there tho white headstones are scat tered over hills high above tho swelling floods; here the eye sweeps up and down long rows, twenty-four in number, each a half mile in length, in all twelve miles of graves; in both shell roads and walks, and flower beds and evergreens artistically arranged. The roses and trees are fragrant and the heavy foliage droops as if in everlasting sor row; the thick leaved ambrosial live oaks, the heavy trailing creepers of the vines, the magnolias and myrtles, the light swa}ing banners of the moss, ail landing low as if in funeral mourning. Near by the Chalmette cemetery is the tall shaft built in 1835 by con gress in honor of Jackson's victory. It shows j CHALMETTE CEMETERY, NEW ORLEANS, the effects of time, the brick foundation is moldering away, the interior stairway broken and dangerous under foot, and a year or two ago the top of the marble pile was knocked "IT by lightning. The neglected monument stands in a rice field, inaccessible during the growing season, owing to the water, and from sigbtseekers mutely Implores the passing tribute ->T a sigh. The total number of interments in tho j various national cemeteries reach the great figures of 308,331, of which there are 152,117 known whites and 119,490 unknown; colored known, 15,005 and 20,503 unknown; and Con federate prisoners, 2fV*L Seventy-eight of the eighty-one national cemeteries are under charge of superintendents. A list of these cemeteries, with the number of interments, may be of interest. Jt is alphabetimlff as follows: Alexandria, La.. 1,280 Fort Scott, Ks. . 109 Alexandria, Ya... 3,4-14 Fort Smith, Ark . 1,004 Anderson ville, Ga. 13,717 Fred'ksburg, Yu.. 0,003 Annapolis, Md____ 3,474 Gettysburg, Pa... 3,573 Antietani, Md____ 4,070 Glendale, Va _____ 030 Arlington. Ya____ 10,200 Grafton, \V. Ya.. 1,220 Ball's Bluff, Ya... 250 Hampton, Ya____ 4,181 Barrancas, Fla... 955 Jefferson bar Baton Bouge, La. 2,922 racks, St. Louis 010 Beaufort. S. C____ 8,219 Keokuk, la....... 590 Beverly, N. J_____ 145 Knoxville. Tenu .. 3,061 Brownsville, Tex. 2,967 Laurel, Md...... 238 Camp Butler,near Lebanon, Ky...... 817 Springfield Ills. 087 I.ogan's Cross C'mpNelson.Nieh- Roads. Ky...... 0(11 olasville, Ky____ 3,520 Loudon Pork, Md. 1,630 Cave Hill, near Marietta, Ga..-,____10,052 Louisville, Ky. 3,774 Memphis, Tenu... 13,838 Chalmette, X. O., 12,521 Mobile, Ala....... 810 Chattanooga..... 12,948 Mound City, Ills.. 5,090 City Point, Va ____ 3.828 Nashville, Tenn. .. 10,538 Cold Harbor, Ya.. 1,941 Natchez, Miss..... 3,062 Corinth, Miss..... 5,670 New Albany, Ind. 2,758 Crown Hill, near Newbern, N. C.... 2,318 Indianapolis,... 708 Philadelphia, Pa.. 1,819 Culpepper, Ya.... 1,348 Poplar Grove, Ya. 5,525 Custer's battle Port Hudson.Miss. 3.80-1 field, M.T...... 259 Raleigh, N. C..... 1,159 Cypress Hill, on Richmond, Ya____ 4,835 L. I., N. Y ______ 3,115 Rock Island, Ills.. 289 City of Mexico.. 1,004 Salisbury, X. C.... 12,130 Danville, Ya...... 1,293 Shiloh, Tenn...... 3,590 Danville, Ky..... 359 San Antonio, Tex. 483 Elmira, N. Y ..... 3,995 Seven Pines, Ya.. 7'89 Finn's Point, N.J. 2,779 Soldiers' Home,O. 5,238 Florence. S. C____ 2,958 Springfield, Mo... 1,518 Fort Donelson____ 039 Stone River,Tenn. 0,003 Fort Gibson, I. T. 2,152 Vicksburg, Miss.. 10,006 Fort Harrison, Va. 250 Whitehall, Pa..... 60 Ft. Leavenworth 1,108 Wilmington, X. C. 10,005 Fort McPherson.. 443 Winchester, Va. .. 4.035 Fayetteville, Ark. 1,210 Yorktown, Ya— 1,506 Virginia has the largest number of ceme teries—fourteen. Virginia, Tennessee and Mississippi, in their order, were the battle states of the struggle. The dead of the civil war are not all gathered in national ceme teries—none but those of the victors. There are many other graves in the south w hich enfold soldiers as valorous as those from the north. Sad chance of war! Now, destitute of aid. Falls undistiu guish'd by the victor's spade. No stone or epitaph marks their last resting place. They too boro themselves with un daunted courage, nerved to heroic endurance, and following the right as God gave them b. see the l ight. No people ever suffered u greater penalty for drawing the sword. They were loyal and devoted to their cause, and the spots of earth—home—they died battling for, and the soil that drank up their blood is wher they rest. Scatter bright ros* s o'er the grave I >f every soldier, proud ami brave, Who died in gray or blue; Who fell beneath the stripes ami stars, Or died where waved Confederate bam. To Hag and country true. On either side of freedom's line Bring brightest flowers to deck each shrine. We ask not now what flag they bore; Bean not the uniform they wore On each supreme occasion. We know they bravely fought ami fell To crush, withstand, resist or quell Rebellion or invasion. And threw their lives into the fray In frock of blue or blouse of gray. Nature decorates the graves of the undis covered dead, scattering wild flowers with gentle hand alike upon the resting places of both t he victors and the vanquished. In 1807 the women of Columbus, Miss., in augurated the custom of decorating the graves of their own as well as those of the northern soldier dead, an event which called forth the poem of "The Blue and the Gray." Sadly, but not with upbraiding. The generous deed was done; In the storm of years that are fading No braver battle was won. Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the blossoms, the Blue; Under the garlands, the Gray. No more shall the war cry sever Or the winding rivers be red ; They banish our anger forever, When they laurel t he graves of our dead. Under the sod ami dew; Waiting the judgment day; Love and tears for the Blue, . Tears and love for the (iray. Moses Folsom. mm A Revolutionary War Widow. There are but two revolutionary' widows left. One of them is Mrs. Mary Casey, of Washington C. H., O., whose portrait ac companies this sketch. Her hus band was John Casey, a revolu tionary soldier. He was living in the mountains of Vir ginia when the war of the revolution broke out. and was among the first to offer his services. When the war was over ho settled in >}«' Kanawhd comity, *" ™ Va. When about mus. mary casey. 78 years of age, he went on a trip to Jackson county, O., and there met the lady who is now his widow. .She was but 10. They were married soon after be coming acquainted. One of Mrs. Casey's sons is in the regular army. Mrs. Casey has just been granted a pension from the government. Abigail Tilton, of New Hampshire, is the other revolutionary war widow. She receives a pension from both the state and national government amounting to $300 a year. A Camera in Danger. "I suppose the usual crop of summer nuis ances is showing up about here, Fanner Jones. Have you struck the amateur pho tographer yet?" "Not yet; but I expect to. I've got a club ready for him."—Drake's Magazine. This Will Make Butchers Growl. "I see," said Smith, looking over the mar ket reports, "that imported bologna sausage remains firm." "Humph !" ejaculated Jones. "Of course it is firm. Did you ever know a bull dog to let go?"—Newman Independent Willing to Take Anything Else. "Hanging is too good for you," said a judge to a condemned man. "I know it is," replied the prisoner frankly; "andif you can sug gest anything else, judge, you can't do it too quick."—Drake's Magazine. JOHN RUSKIN INSANE. THE GREAT ENGLISH ART CRITIC, PHILOSOPHER AND WRITER. liis Splendid Intellect u Wreck—His House iu Coniston—Peculiarities of liis Malady—His Art Treasures—His Views ou Political Economy. Tho great Ruskin is insane. The artist, critic ami philosopher that was, is now a men tal wreck, under the vigilant care of nurses for the mad. For some time a rumor has been flying about London to the effect that John Buskin's retirement from literary work was due to a mental breakdown. And now the rumor has crystallized into a well know n fact. The master of English prose is now a baby in intellect. The life of so eminent a man is known to almost everybody. Ho was born in London in tho year 1819. His father, a Scotchman, was a successful wine merchant, and left to his son a fortune of £7,000 a year. On the death of his mother this fortuno was in creased considerably. Thus, from the begin ning of his career, ho was able to gratify his artistic and literary tastes without fear of the bugbear of .poverty. His parents were de voted to him. He has given an account of his childhood and their care in training him. He records that his mother even went to Ox ford and staid there during term time. Ruskin is best known as an art critic, but he is also famous for liis writings on political economy, in which he excoriates the sordid, money seeking tendencies of tho age. He has be called the head of a school of self denial, honest art and genuine culture. Mr. Ruskin was graduated in 184" at Ox ford, having studied at Christ Church col lege, and immediately afterward devo teil himself to the study of art, particularly water color drawing. Mi RUSKIN IN HIS STUDY. ln 1843 Mr. Ruskin published his "Modern Painters," which was a defense of landscape art, especially of the paintings o f Turner. It was completed in five volumes in 1800, Meantime he traveled extensively, and also produced "The Seven Lamps of Architec ture" and "The Stones of Venice." Ho as serted the superiority of modern art over ancient art, and was among the first support ers of the pre-Raphaelite school in one branch at least. In 1807 he was.named Rede pro fessor at Cambridge, in 1809 professor of the fine arts at Oxford and later Slade professor. Mr. Kuskin's home, Brantwood, is built romantically, but unhealthfully, at tho base of a hill near the edge of Coniston lake, one of the loveliest spots in the English lake dis trict. When ho purchased it the house was a mere crumbling shed ; but he has made it a dwelling fit for a philosopher, if not a king. Curiously enough a superstition prevails among his ignorant neighbors that the curse of insanity is sure to fall upon the proprietors of Brantwood. An artist named Lynton, who formerly owned it, lost his mind and died there. This, of course, gave rise to the superstition. Within the house is an inex haustible museum of artistic treasures. Pic tures there are in abundance, enough to crys tallize into a fortune. Among them are many Turners, since Ruskin was a Turner worshiper. Art and science are equally represented in the various articles lying about—here a manuscript, there a picture; here a section of a stone, there the anatomy of a plant. The furniture of the house is strong and substantial—not in the least aesthetic. Much of it belonged to Mr. Rus kin's father. Of Ruskiu's inherited wealth nothing re mains—nothing but the pictures. It has melted away under the fervor of his passion for everything that is rare, beautiful and costly. And he has always had certain ideas of comfort which it took money to gratify. For a long time past he could not be induced to travel by rail or steamboat if it could be avoided, but went about in his private car riage. Then, too, he was generous to a ruin ous degree. For years he had a list of pen sioners who would cause the purse of a Vanderbilt to collapse. They were mostly writers w ho failed to get coin for their work, and artists who had made the fight and broken down before it was ended. His books bring him in from £2,000 to £3,000 a year, and upon this he is now living. Even that gets sadly straitened sometimes, and occa sionally a picture disappears and is sold in London by a dealer w ho has been Buskin's lifelong friend, and always for a far higher price than Mr. Ruskin paid for it. The fact that it is from his collection enhances its value. r Dri: j RCSKIlf'S HOME. Ruskiu's cousin, Mrs. Arthur Severn, has devoted herself to him with great unselfish ness since the divorce which ended his un happy marriage. To her he has made over ' ..... case of his death. In the deed he deprives himself of j the power to revoke the gift. His attacks of aberration change l:is entire character. The present attack began in April, und took at first an unusually violent form. He is very fond of children, and in a sort of way ho had adopted a number of girls from 8 to 14 years of age, children of poor vil lagers, who went to Brantwood to be in structed in music at his expense, and also to pursue other studies. Among his ignorant neighbors, somo of w hom were jealous that their own children were not among the num ber, this caused unpleasant gossip, and Mrs. Severn and her husband induced Ruskin to forbid the children tho house. This made Ruskin very angry at Mrs. Severn. He im mediately sat Jown and wrote letters all over the country denouncing Mrs. Severn in the strongest terms. Fortunately ho left the Sraling of the letters to his faithful valet, Baxter, who saw that they were never posted. Baxter never leaves him, and, it is said, is not in the least influenced by the fact that his master discharges him at least once a day. Mr. Ruskin went to live at the little coun try inn, and t hen to the cottage of a former servant, accompanied by Baxter, of course. He got possession of his check book, and gave checks right and left, till he had overdrawn his bank account. Then his malady took an other turn. All excitement disapj.eared, and, ill physically as well as mentally, lie took to his bed in a melancholy and almost silly con dition. Then he gfewr better, but was soon worse again, this time becoming more violent than before. It was necessary to remove the pictures from his bedroom, lest he destroy them by his violence. Since then he has im proved somewhat, and left Brantwood a fortnight ago, but whither he lias gone no one at Coniston knows. Everything in tin* house is put away carefully, as though a long absence was contemplated. On leaving the place the unhappy owner remarked t liât he might lit Ter see it again. A Costly Toilet Set. .Sarah Bernhardt has prepared to astonish the world in the matter of toilet sets. While in America recently and just liefere leaving New York on her western trip she stepped into a well known New' York house and or dered a toilet set of solid silver to be made for her at a cost of 83,030. it includes a washbowl more tbantwofeet in diameter and CTJ: yyf 1 L ' j i'.lw m ,4rhi BERNHARDT'S TOILET SET. holding tight gallons, together with a pitcher fifteen and one-half me a high holding five gallons, puff boxes of enormous size, trays, etc. The New York World in telling the story of the se. .■* iysSarah went into ecstasies when the designer showed her his drawings. She said: "Howbeautiful!" w ith the accent on the "beaut," and could not suggest a single improvement. Then she prayed that the things might be made at tho earliest jxissible moment and sent to her immediately in what ever part of the world sho might be. Skilled workmen were set at the task forthwith. Large sheets of sterling silver were spun and hammered into the desired shapes, and the monograms and coats of arms w ere sawed out of solid gold and delicately modeled by the chaser. The work was carried on with a secrecy equal to its dispatch, and the set has already been delivered to the tradegy queen. The pieces are ornamented with a coat of arms representing tragedy and comedy. X/ \ HENRY S. IVES. Henry S. Ives. We present today a portrait of Henry S. Ives, the young Napoleonic financier whose fiduciary exploits have made him so notori ous and whose conduct of various railroad of fices is being so anxiously inquired about by certain people, in cluding the execu tors of the law of the land as inter preted in New York city. Mr. Ives was originally from Norwich, Conn. While he was still quite ; young he took up his abode in New York, where he was for a time a clerk at £8 a week. And it is from such small beginnings that the airy fabric of his wealth and reputa tion grew. We will not attempt to delve deeper into the mysteries of his biography at present. He is making more all the time, and the close of the present period thereof will be soon enough to write it out. Governor AVasliington Bartlett. Governor Washington Bartlett, of Califor nia, who may have joined the silent ma jority before these words are read, was born in Georgia, and in 1S49 went to California with tho ou» lit for a printing office. Snortly after his arrival in San Francisco ho set up Lis press and had the honor of publishing the first newspaper that ever was issued in tho metropolis of the Pacific slope. During his career as a publisher he issued The Journal of Commerce and The News. But ten years after his arrival on the gold- governor bartlett. en coast he abandoned journalism for politics and was that same year elected county clerk. He has ever since been in public life, Laving held office con tinuously. In 1882 he was chosen mayor of San Francisco, and, as in Cleveland's ease, the mayoralty proved a stepping stone to the office of chief magistrate of his state. Gov ernor Bartlett was elected on tl e Democratic ticket, but his successor, Lieutenant Gov ernor Waterman, was chosen on the Repub lican ticket, and was the only one of that party who was successful at the polls. Gov ernor Bartlett's disorder is Bright's disease, aggravated by paralysis, and its disastrous turn was due to overwork during the recent session of the legislature. m ?-t: ' .5 SKILLED IN OLI) ACE. i THE LATE ALVAN CLARK, FAMOUS TELESCOPE MAKER. The Story of Ills Useful ami Busy Life. How He Became an Astronomer—How His Telescopes Were Manufactured—His Honors at Home and Abroad. Alvan Clark, whose death at Cambridge, Mass., at the age of 83, was recently recorded, did more to advance astronomical science than any other person of this century. As a telescope maker his reputation is world wide. When Dorn Pedro, of Brazil, visited this country some years ago he said there were three persons in Cambridge whom be w anted much to see. These were Longfellow, Pro fessor Agassiz and Mr. Alvan Clark. At the age when most persons think they are too old to begin any new business or learn anything, or even go on energetically with what they do know, Mr. Clark began the work which made him famous. He did not so much as know anything about it. Nor did he ever see a lens in process of construction outside ol his own shop. He lived on a farm until he was 23 years old. His early education was such as the common schools afforded. In his 23d year he went to Lowell and be came a calico en graver. He had a talent for drawing which he devel oped unaided. For nine years Mr. Clark w as a calico engraver. Mean alvan CLARK. while he took up portrait painting. He located in Boston and painted heads for twenty years, earning over $20,000 with his brush, without ever having been taught anything about the art. Though ho grew famous in quite another field, it was to his days of artist life that he always went back in memory with the most, affection. And during his later years he again took up the brush and found pleasure and recreation in the work of his young manhood. He was more than 40 when he became in terested in telescopes. Assisted by his two sons he afterward produced the most accu rate and the two largest instruments in the world. His eldest son, George B. Clark, while in college at Andover read a treatise on "Casting and Grinding the Speculum." Inspired by that ho conceived the idea of making a telescope. Ho consulted liis father, who at once became deeply interested in it. They worked together at the experiment, and from this small beginning came the great work which brought them fame and wealth. Both sons were later included in the business, and the firm was known as Clark & Rons. ^8 ft î\ LICK TELESCOPE. and they worked together nearly forty years. Grinding lenses is a work which requires the utmost nicety. Often, after months of careful labor, a flaw is found and all the work must bo lost. Once w hen Mr. Clark was giving the final polishing to a lens upon which a year's time had been expended, it fell to the floor and was broken. Looking woefully at the fragments a few moments in silence, he stood up, saying: "Boys, we will make a better one." The unlimited pa tience which enabled him to be cheerful un der such a disaster was his chief character istic. And he was ever cheerful and com panionable. Mr. Clark was the first optician iu the United States to make achromatic lenses, each completed lens being composed of two pieces, one of crown and the other of flint glass, and he invented numerous improve ments m telescopes and their manu facture, including the double eye piece, an ingenious method of measuring small celestial arcs. He made the 18% inches glass now in the Chicago observatory, tho one of 24 inches aperture for the Washington observatory, and a 30 inch refractor for the Imperial observatory of St. Petersburg, for which the honorary medal of Russia was awarded—tho only one ever conferred upon an American. The last and greatest work of Mr. Clark and his sons was the construction of a 30 inch refractor for the Lick observa tory on Mt. Hamilton, in California. This will be finished in a few months, and will be the largest in tho world. Air. Clark was also an astronomer of note, and made some valuable discoveries, for'which the Lalande gold medal was awarded him by the French academy. The cheapest telescope Mr. Clark ever made cost $300, while the National he sold for $40,000, and the Lick glass will cost $50,000 without the mounting. The objec tives alone to these instruments are worth $25,000 each, and are capable of a magnify ing power of 2,000 diameters, and of increas ing the surface of the object viewed to 2,500,000 times its natural size. It takes a / testing a lens. month's solid labor to make a good 4 inch objective, and a year for an 8 or 10 inch one. In recognition of his great contributions to science degrees were conferred on Mr. Clark by the universities of Harvard, Amherst, Princeton and Chicago, but he had worked at telescopes for ten years without receiving the slightest recognition or encouragement from any official, scientific or educational quarter. And yet these ten years were those of the revival or foundation of practical astronomy in the United States. To Mr. Dawes, a scientific divine of Europe, is due the credit of bringing out this telescope maker. At the time Mr. Clark began a correspondence with Mr. Dawes there was not in all England an establishment which could ' ' • •'— accurate shape. England had lost the art of shaping object glasses, but rough glass of the necessary purity and uniformity was cast there as in no other country. Mr. Clark for some time imported his rough disks to fill the orders he received from Mr. Dawes, who was a telescope fancier, always on tho lookout for improvements in construction and mounting. Only the very largest lenses are ground by machinery. Tho tools for grinding a lens are very simple—merely round plates of cast iron, about three feet in diameter, hollowed out to suit the curves of the lens. They look like huge, shallow saucers. Three of these tools are necessary, one nearly flat for the inner surface of the flint glass, one convex, for its outer surfnee, and one concave, for the crown glass. The surfaco of tho tool is covered with coarse emery and water, the glass is laid upon it, and the grinding is carried on by sliding the glass back ami .— on the tool. While sliding, the glass is slowly turned round, while, at tho same time, the operators continually move around in the other direction, so that the strokes are made successively in every direction on the tool By these combined motions every inequality, either ou the glass or the tool, is gradu ally worn away, and both are reduced to portions of nearly perfect spheres. Then finer emery is used until the surface becomes quite smooth. Then comes the polishing. The whole tool is covered with a thin coating of pitch, which is pressed, while still warm, into the proper shape. It is then covered s v ' ; ■TZj/r i t i I VVC Cv w TELESCOPE AT WASHINGTON, with a layer of water and the polishing rouge, and the glass is again laid upon it, and kept in motion in the same way as in the fine grinding. Thus each surface of the two glasses is speedily brought to a high polish. Then the glass is tested to find the defects. It is set up on edge, facing a luminous point at a distance equal to ten or fifteen times the focal length. The image of the point formed in the focus of the glass is then examined with an eye piece of high power. The glass is then taken back to the tool and the polish ing process is recommenced, only pressing upon those parts of the glass where it has to be ground away. It is tried again, and again goes to the polisher. So far no extraordinary skill on the part of the rkmnn is required; but as the size of the glass is increased the process becomes more difficult and tedious, and the difficulties of judging what the defects are increase enor mously. Tho telescope is by no means finished with the glass. It must bo tubed properly. It must admit of being moved by clock work in such a way that as the earth revolves from west to east the telescope shall revolve from east to west with exactly the same velocity, and thus point steadily at the same s f ar. The details of the machinery for attaining these and other results have required t large amount of thought and care. r* >3 ltev. Daniel Ciirry, D. D., LL. D. The Methodist Episcopal church Las suf fered a great loss in the death of Rev. Daniel Curry, D. D., LL. D., who died in New York recently. As theologian, preacher, journal ist and debater be was renowned. He was born in 1808 in wliat is now Cort landville, near Peekskill. He entered the Wesleyan university, Middletown, Conn., and was graduated two years later. In 1840 he took charge of an academy at Macon, Ga. Two years afterward he entered the Georgia conference. The great conflict over the slavery quest ion was then at its height. Dr. Curry was an abolitionist, a co-worker with Garrison, Whittier and Phillips, and when the Methodist church south was, established lie re- \ turned to the north. ' Ho entered the New York Con ference East and rev. daniel curry. bold appointments in it for eleven years. In 1S45 be became president of Asbury, now De Pauw university, at Greencastle, Ind. Two years later he came east. In 1S04 he became editor in chief of The Christian Advocate, a position he held until, in 1870, ill health forced him out of it. He spent some time in Europe and after his return edited The Methodist, which was afterward merged into Tho Christian Advocate. For the next six years Dr. Curry devoted himself to theologi cal writing. lie produced "Fragments," "Platform Papers," a new edition <>f "Clark's Commentary on the New Testament," a "Life of Bishop Clarke," and other works. In ad dition to all this he edited The National Re pository through eight volumes. From 1S84 to his death 'he edited The Methodist Maga zine. His friends loved and admired him and his opponents respected him. Tho Right Training. "My dear friend," said a man, addressing an acquaintance, "why don't you do some thing with your son?" "What's the matter with him?" "Why, I noticed that while he was playing with several little fellows he robbed them of all their marbles." "That's all right." "All right! My gracious, do you want him to be a robber:" "Yes, that's the drift of my teachings. You see, 1 am bringing him up to keep a summer hQtel."—Arkansaw Traveler. Disposing of the Surplus. Old Gentleman (at a sewing class)—I sup pose, Miss Arabella, that you young ladies are not interested in the question, What shall be done with the surplus?" Miss Arabella—Oh, yes, we are indeed. We intend to surprise Rev. Mr. Whitecboker with one, and it is going to be lovely.—Phil adelphia North American.