A New Don Quixote Needed.

131 tial in society by fawning, or undue attention of any sort. I love a brave, strong character that walks the earth with the step of a king, and an eye that does not quail before anything except its own dishonor. All can not do this, but there are some who can. The man, woman or child that makes me uncomfortable, that stabs me with an undeserved reproach or rebuke, that dwells upon my faults like a fly upon an ulcer, that slights me or needlessly wounds me in any way-that man, woman or child I may forgive, but only through God's spirit striving with my wrath. I will shun them, and in my heart I must despise them and this, not because I am weak or clinging. according to the views of some people, but because, be I weak or strong, I will stand up for justice so long as I have power, and I hereby declare that I will speak more kindly and considerately to those whose claims are unrecognized by the society in which I live, than I will to any others. I will bow more cordially to those to whom persons of position do not bow at all, and I will try in a thousand pleasant, nameless ways to make them happier. God help me to keep my promise good!

Another branch of this same subject relates to those who live among us and do our work, perform the menial services for us that we think ourselves too good to do; who are cared for as we would care for the dogs and horses, well fed and warmed and promptly paid, but spoken to with harshness often, treated with unreasonable severity as if they had not brains and souls, but were animals conveniently gifted, somehow, with the power of speech. Who says kind words to the man that blacks his boots, to the maid that makes his bed and sweeps his hearth? Who employs the graceful "Thank you," and "Won't you please," that softens down the sharp tone of a command? O we forget these things! We are just mean enough to disregard decency and kindness in the cases where we dare to do it. I have called at houses where in the room a girl sat sewing, more beautiful, graceful and well-bred than my hostess ever dared to be, yet she has taken no more notice of this girl than if she were a brute, nor attracted my attention to her by an introduction or the faintest indication of one, though descanting eloquently on the virtues of the sleek skye-terrier at her side. The poor and the unlovely fare hardly in this world of ours. Climb the ladder yourself to enviable distinction, or reach a comfortable mediocrity by your own exertions, and you will be treated with all-sufficient consideration; but while you are climbing, look only for cold indifference, at best, and if you begin to stagger or fall, then kicks and cuffs will shower upon you with an energy surprising to contemplate. Oh, that I were a Don Quixote in a better cause than his, or even Sancho Panza to some mightier spirit, who I trust will come upon the earth some day!

April 21, 1861.-On this beautiful Sabbath day the unusual sound of the whistle and the thundering cars, has been heard for the first time, and our thoughts have been more of war, I fear, than of the God of battles whom we tried to worship. It is twilight and soon I shall go peacefully to sleep, but while I am asleep a thousand soldiers will pass through our quiet village on their way to "the war," that terrible Something which hangs over us black and portentous. Somewhere in Wisconsin, and on the broad,

bright plains of Minnesota, mothers and sisters, daughters and wives will be weeping and praying to-night for these soldiers. God pity them and give them peace.

April 27, 1861.-I want to tell how with all their beauty sadness has been interwoven with these bright days, for Oliver has signed the pledge that he would go to the war if called upon. The students of the Theological Institute have organized a company and are drilling every day, preparing to go if it becomes their duty. I can not tell how my heart sickened and was rebellious for awhile as I thought of what might be. Went with mother and the other ladies to the Theological school to attend the exercises in honor of the banner presented to the students by Mrs. Bishop Simpson. We enjoyed it greatly.

May 5, 1861.-An eventful day to me. Mary and I publicly declared our determination and endeavor, with God's help, to live as Christians. We were baptized and received into the church and partook of the sacrament. Those were solemn vows we took; I almost trembled as our voices mingled in the responses to the questions asked us. I felt how solemn a thing it was, how awful the responsibility that would henceforth rest upon us, and yet the ceremony seemed very beautiful to me. We knelt there at the altar, we whose lives and hearts and thoughts had been one; it was most fitting that we should in this, as in everything, be together.

EVANSTON COLLEGE FOR LADIES, AND LATER, WOMAN'S COLLEGE OF THE NORTHWESTERN
UNIVERSITY.

ON LIFE'S TEMPESTUOUS SEA."

CHAPTER I.

DISTRICT SCHOOL NO. 1.

Not to be at all, or else to be a teacher, was the alternative presented to aspiring young women of intellectual proclivities when I was young.

Graduating in 1859, convalescing slowly at Forest Home that summer and autumn, studying, reading and writing all winter, I grew restive, and solemnly determined that I would teach.

Between 1858, when I began, and 1874, when I forever ceased to be a pedagogue, I had thirteen separate seasons of teaching, in eleven separate institutions, and six separate towns; my pupils in all numbering about two thousand. In my summer vacation at Forest Home, 1858, I taught our district school; in my own home-town of Evanston, I taught the public school one term; in Harlem, two terms; in Kankakee Academy, one term; in my Alma Mater, the Northwestern Female College, two; in Pittsburgh Female College, three; in the Grove School, Evanston, one year; in Genesee Wesleyan Seminary, at Lima, N. Y., three terms; the Evanston College for Ladies, two years; the "Woman's College," one year, and I was a professor in the Northwestern University, one. Nor did I ever relinquish any of these situations save of my own free will, and in every case but one, I had from the authorities a warm invitation to return. This I say very gratefully and gladly.

A desire to learn the methods of different institutions and to see more of the world were the chief motives that led me into an experience so varied.

It is also but fair to confess that routine has always been immensely irksome to me, and to be "tied to a bell rope," an asphyxiating process from which I vainly sought escape, changing the spot only to keep the pain.