best part? In his family, gentle, generous, good-humored, affectionate, self-denying: in society, a delightful example of complete gentlemanhood; quite unspoiled by prosperity; never obsequious to the great (or, worse still, to the base and mean, as some public men are forced to be in his and other countries); eager to acknowledge every contemporary's merit; always kind and affable to the young members of his calling; in his professional bargains and mercantile dealings delicately honest and grateful; one of the most charming masters of our lighter language; the constant friend to us and our nation; to men of letters doubly dear, not for his wit and genius merely, but as an exemplar of goodness, probity, and pure life: I don't know what sort of testimonial will be raised to him in his own country, where generous and enthusiastic acknowledgment of American merit is never wanting; but Irving was in our service as well as theirs; and as they have placed a stone at Greenwich yonder in memory of that gallant young Bellot, who shared the perils and fate of some of our Arctic seamen, I would like to hear of some memorial raised by English writers and friends of letters in affectionate remembrance of the dear and good Washington Irving.

- WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

FASHIONABLE PARTIES IN NEW NETHERLANDS

IN those happy days a well-regulated family always rose with the dawn, dined at eleven, and went to bed at sunset. Dinner was invariably a private meal, and the fat old burghers showed incontestable signs of disapprobation and uneasiness at being surprised by a visit from a neighbor on such occasions.

FASHIONABLE PARTIES IN NEW NETHERLANDS

81

But though our worthy ancestors were thus singularly averse to giving dinners, yet they kept up the social bands of intimacy by occasional banquetings, called tea-parties.

These fashionable parties were generally confined to the higher classes, or noblesse, that is to say, such as kept their own cows, and drove their own wagons. monly assembled at three o'clock, and went away about six, The company comunless it was in winter-time, when the fashionable hours were a little earlier, that the ladies might get home before dark. The tea-table was crowned with a huge earthen dish, well stored with slices of fat pork, fried brown, cut up into morsels, and swimming in gravy. The company, being seated round the genial board, and each furnished with a fork, evinced their dexterity in launching at the fattest pieces in this mighty dish-in much the same manner as sailors harpoon porpoises at sea, or our Indians spear salmon in the lakes. Sometimes the table was graced with immense apple-pies, or saucers full of preserved peaches and pears; but it was always sure to boast an enormous dish of balls of sweetened dough, fried in hog's fat, and called doughnuts, or olykoeks- a delicious kind of cake, at present scarce known in this city, except in genuine Dutch families.

The tea was served out of a majestic delft tea-pot, ornamented with paintings of fat little Dutch shepherds and shepherdesses tending pigs with boats sailing in the air, and houses built in the clouds, and sundry other ingenious Dutch fantasies. The beaux distinguished themselves by their adroitness in replenishing this pot from a huge copper tea-kettle, which would have made the pigmy macaronies of these degenerate days sweat merely to look at it. To sweeten the bever

beside each cup- and the
sipped with great decorum,

age, a lump of sugar was laid company alternately nibbled and until an improvement was introduced by a shrewd and economic old lady, which was to suspend a large lump directly over the tea-table, by a string from the ceiling, so that it could be swung from mouth to mouth - an ingenious expedient, which is still kept up by some families in Albany; but which prevails without exception in Communipaw, Bergen, Flatbush, and all our uncontaminated Dutch villages.

At these primitive tea-parties the utmost propriety and dignity of deportment prevailed. No flirting nor coquettingno gamboling of old ladies nor hoiden chattering and romping of young ones-no self-satisfied struttings of wealthy gentlemen, with their brains in their pockets-nor amusing conceits, and monkey divertisements, of smart young gentlemen, with no brains at all. On the contrary, the young ladies seated themselves demurely in their rush-bottomed chairs, and knit their own woollen stockings; nor ever opened their lips, excepting to say yes or no, to any question that was asked them; behaving, in all things, like decent, well-educated damsels. As to the gentlemen, each of them tranquilly smoked his pipe, and seemed lost in contemplation of the blue and white tiles with which the fireplaces were decorated; wherein sundry passages of Scripture were piously portrayed.

The parties broke up without noise and without confusion. They were carried home by their own carriages, that is to say, by the vehicles nature had provided them, excepting such of the wealthy as could afford to keep a wagon. The gentlemen gallantly attended their fair ones to their respective abodes, and took leave of them with a hearty smack at the door:

which, as it was an established piece of etiquette, done in perfect simplicity and honesty of heart, occasioned no scandal at that time, nor should it at the present if our great-grandfathers approved of the custom, it would argue a great want of reverence in their descendants to say a word against it. WASHINGTON IRVING.

WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE

WHAT Constitutes a state?

Not high-raised battlements or labored mound,

Thick wall or moated gate;

Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned;
Not bays and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,

Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride.
No! Men high-minded men -

With powers as far above dull brutes endued,

In forests, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;

Men, who their duties know,

But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain;

Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain.

These constitute a state;

And sovereign law, that state's collected will,

O'er thrones and globes elate

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.

SIR WILLIAM JONES.

DANIEL WEBSTER

IT happened to the writer, when hardly more than a boy, to be sent upon an errand to an office in a building on State Street in Boston, where eight or ten clerks were hard at work. One of them, getting up for some purpose and passing a window, suddenly remarked, "There's Daniel Webster." In an instant every desk was deserted and every window occupied. I naturally went with the rest and had to climb into a chair to look over their heads.

Looking out, I saw that every window in the opposite building was equally crowded and everybody was looking in one direction. Following their gaze, I saw a man of rustic appearance, massive body, and large head, whom I had never seen before, and who stood alone at the corner of the street, looking across to the other side. He had a complexion as dark as an Indian's, with coal-black eyes and heavy brows surmounted by a somewhat battered beaver hat. He paid no attention to any one, though all of the people in passing glanced shyly up at him. Probably he was waiting for some companion, perhaps expecting to go on a fishing excursion, a diversion of which he was very fond. This was Daniel Webster, as I first saw him - the orator and the interpreter of the Constitution.

Some weeks later, at the house of a relative in Brookline, I was called upon to offer the sugar-bowl to Daniel Webster, who was just accepting a cup of tea, and I have never forgotten the bright smile with which he received my humble offering. He was a man so famous that I am afraid I was led to mention that little honor until my friends became quite tired of it.

Once again, in a public gathering of Harvard graduates,