LP W ’//, /\~’ -\’\t\\\\;\\\\~.\k~1\\\\\ Rux‘.\ . // / .fi.’ DETROIT, DEC. 5, 1891._ THE HOUSEHOLD-"Supplement. AL—‘ALl M. Al—'Alim, the " All-Known?“ by this word Praise him who sees the ‘4an and hears the unheard. ”If ye keep hidden your mind, if ye declare it aloud , Equally God hath perceived. equally known is each thought: If on your housetops ye sin. if in dark chambers ye shroud, Equally God hath beheld, equally judgment is wrought. He. without listing. doth know how many breath- ings ye make. Numbereth the hairs or your heads, wotteth the beats of your blood; _ Heareth the feet of the ant when she wanders by night in the brake; Counted the eggs of the snake, and the cubs of the wolf in the wood. Mute the Moakkibat sit this side and that side of men. One on the right noting good and one on the left noting ill; Each both these angels beside him who write With invisible pen Whatso he doeth or sayeth or thinketh. recording it still. Vast is the mercy of God, and when a man doeth aright Glad is the right-hand angel, and setteth it quick on the roll; Ten times he setteth it down in letters of heaven- ly light. For one good deed ten deeds. and a hundred for ten on the scroll. But when one doeth amiss the right-hand angel doth lay ' His palm on the left-hand angel and whispers, “Forbear thy pen ! Peradventure in seven hours the man may repent him and way; At- the end of the seventh hour, if it must be, witness it then.” Al ’Altm.’ Thou who knows: all, With hearts unveiled on Thee we call. ' —Slr Edwin Arnold. ”w.‘—a—-- -...... THE LIGHT OF ASIA. Since 1884, a copy of Sir Edwin Arnold’s poems has been included in my little library. Once read, it has been often referred to in those idle moments when one feels in the mood for renewing old friendships; and the - more I read, the more do I appreciate and enjoy. To most of us, there is something mysteriously fascinating about whatever is connected with the Orient. Its unfamiliar customs and beliefs; the character of the people and their religion~so much a part of them- selves; their wonderful rugs and car- pets, brocades and cloths of gold; their musk and sandalwood, subtle perfumes, flashing jewels with magical proper- ties, and above all the. remarkable. rich- ness and imagery of Eastern prose and poetry and their symbolic character—— all these invest India, Persia and Arabia with peculiar charm and mysterv for us. Sir Edwin Arnold is without doubt the most accomplished student of Ori- ental myths, legends and beliefs now living. His long residence in India. his researches in Buddhist temples and among ancient manuscripts. his love for his chosen study, and his keen ap- preciation of what is beautiful and good Wherever found, have enabled him to fitly present the life and character of Gautama, the founder of the religion which has a greater following than Christianity as we know it, for four hundred and seventy millions—one- third of the human race—live and die believing in the doctrines of Buddha. and his creed has existed for twenty- four centuries. Gautama was the Christ of India, his teachings are paralleled .by those 0f the Christian religion, on the same high moral plane which would make life so grand and beautiful if poor humanity could but live up to it. Many streams may flow from a com- mon fountain-head. Some become choked with foulness, turned aside into tortuous channels, perhaps lost in morasses, while others flow on. broad, calm, peaceful, majestic rivers. And I have long believed that the world‘s many religious, were but the mists of superstition, error, ignorance and mis- representation swept aside and the electric torch of Truth turned upon them, would resolve themselves, finally. into one sublime faith, the source and head of every religion and given to all races by the Infinite Father of us all. Sir Edwin in his exposition of the teachings of Gautama, has been the means of opening new and beautiful fields of reflection to all who have read his “Light of Asia,” “Pearls of the Faith” and “Light of the World.” And as I like to see and hear dis. tinguished men, I was eager to make one of his audience when he gave a couple of readings in this city recently. Hon. Don M. Dickinson introduced him, in a few sentences implying that everybody had heard of Sir Edwin Arnold, and those who had not “don’t count.” And indeed, it was an audience composed of the distinguished citizen and his wife which had assembled. Ex-governors, judges, lawyers, ex-cou- gressmen, ex-all-sorts-of-oliicials, and many still enjoying the distinction of “office,” filled the seats, and received the speaker with an outburst of kid- gloved enthusiasm. We beheld a rather .undersized man, with rugged face, whiskers not to be named in the same day with those of the Honorable Don .\I., iron gray hair, bright eyes, an irreproachable dress suit, and an accent not obnoxiously English. I never realized before how graceful is the Oriental salutatiou, especially as contrasted with the short, abrupt nod or bend from the neck only, which is our American greeting. Sir Edwin acknowledged the plaudits of his hearers with a graceful bend of the body from the waist, not in the least like a dancing—master’s how, but so dignified and courteous withal that it seemed the. only fitting salutation. And on several occasions in illustrate ing his text he repeated the Oriental obeisance. raising his hands to the level of the forehead, then lcttingt-hem {all with an outward sweep, accompany— ing the bend of the body. Sir Edwin‘s first selection was from. “ The Light of Asia,"the Eighth Book, a part of “the large discourse which Buddha spoke before the king,” and which epitomizes the creed of Gautama. Every pious Moslem wears about his neck a three-stringed chaplet or rosary; each string has thirty-three beads, and each bead is named for one of the attributes of Allah, who is called “ The Merciful,” “The Compassionate,” “The Holy One,” “The Creator,” and so on. And to each of these attributes. or names, Sir Edwin has appended, some legend or tradition, set in verse, illustrating the subject, or paraphras~ ing a verse of the Koran. These are “ The Pearls of the Faith,” and one of those which the author recited will be found on the first page of the HOUSE:- HOLD. It illustrates the twentieth at- tribute, “ The All-Knower,” and is the Hindu version of a legend my mother told me in childhood, of the recording”, {angels who wrote the day’s deeds“ 1, whether good or bad, in a great book, "the Record of Life. An unpublished ,poem, “The Egyptian Slippers,” was based upon a personal experience of the. W ”r“m 2 ' The Household. . author’s. He, with several scientific friends, was watching the unwrapping ofa mummy. Within its shell was found a little handful of ashes, and a padre? tiny embroidered slippers. Of the princess of the Pharaohs remained only a bit of dust, but her slippers, still shaped to her young feet, and soiled by the Nile mud, had been pre- served three thousand years. What was the name and lineage, what the h0pe and happiness of that dusky daughter of Egypt? What had become of the immortal part of her, so long forgotten in her chrysalis? Had she. lived again? Was it she “with hair and eyes of Ptol’mian blackness” whom he met at dinner last week? \Vas it only in fancy that he recognized again that lingering lotus perfume? I was particularly struck with the peculiar dramatic effects produced by the reader. His gestures were few— remarkably few, as compared with the genufl'ections and see-sawing of the average elocutionist who acts his theme (hertheme,—the average reader is usually a girl) as well as reads it. Aside from the salaam, illustrating the servant’s obeisance in replying to his master, Ican remember less than half a dozen instances where gesture was employed to aid the listener’s imag- ination. In these lines “Its threads are Love and Life; and Death and am The shuttles of its loom." heimitated the movement of the shut- fies flying across the web. And in “The Rajput Nurse,” where the nurse's Md (which she invested with the tiara of the young prince and left to his would-be murderers while she fled masafety with the heir to the kingdom) as. stabbed by the conspirators, the reader’s voice so aided his words to set shescene so vividly before the imag- ination that his dramatic energy and three in depicting the murderous wounds were positively horrifying. The story of the Rajput nurse, by the way, which has been many times reprinted in the “Poets’ Corner” of the news- rs, is said to be a true incident, illustrative of the loyalty of the natives ntheir princes. The nurse had with her in the Rajah’s palace the young prince and her own brown baby. Con- spirators corrupt the guards and War the gates to murder the heir. There is no time nor way to save both children, so she takes the golden circlet and belt indicative of his rank irom the little prince and puts them upon her own child, playing at her bet. Then she flies with the prince. The murderers believe the child decked with the royal insignia is the snethey wish to destroy, and he is cruelly murdered, smiling the while as if he consented to the sacrifice. But the bereaved mother, her prince’s safety assured, joins her child in Eirvana, that very night. AndI am glad that at last we have had authoritative pronunciation of that word—Nirvana. Sir Edwin, who surely should know, since it is his writings which have made it familiar to the majority, called it “ Neer-wana” ——not quite as broad as the double e would make it, but between that sound and the i. And the v is w. Other numbers in the programme were “Queen Arzimund and the Dag- gem” an unpublished poemjcalled “The Musume,” telling how a bazar; girl saved from the tiger the child of the woman who had scorned her be- cause the innocent baby lips had pressed her own; and that pathetic ballad, “He and She,” with several other selections. Taken altogether, it was a very pleasant entertainment Sir Edwin gave us. (I feel as if I were on delightfully familiar terms with the Eritish aristocracy when I call him “Sir Edwinl") BEATRIX. TWO KINDS OF HOSPITALITY. A young girl, aged eleven, an only and delicately reared child. was by cir- cumstances obliged to travel alone for the first time, from southern Ohio to the northern part of Michigan. A lady, living in Detroit, visiting at the same place. on her return was en— trusted with the care of the child. She agreed to keep her over night at her home, then send her in care of the con- ductor on the 1)., L. S: N. railroad to her home. She was paid for her trouble and all was planned as well as could be for the girl’s comfort and safety. She kept the girl over night, in the morning sent her, alone on a street car, to the depot, telling her to go into a grocery store and buy herself a lunch, then to go into a big dry-goods store and look around, to amuse herself until train time. She did as directed, and on leaving the dry-goods store, could not find the depot. She wan- dered around until she got into a building where carpenters were at work, and one of them, on learning her wants, took her to the depot and saw her safely on her train, and in due time she was safely given to her parents’ arms. But what if she had missed her train, or what if she had fallen into the hands of seoundrels? 3 Was this woman truly hospitable or worthy of the trust placed in her? I went on a visit to Montcalm County. My little girl, on the train, made the acquaintance of another girl, a little older than herself. They had a fine time together and we left the train at the same station. My fellow traveller was met by her mother, but no one met me; my friends lived six miles away, and through some mistake failed to meet me. The night was dark and cold, the station to be shut up in twenty minutes, and the outlook was gloomy enough. As I was making arrange- ments to leave my luggage and go to a hotel, this same little girl and mother came to see about their baggage. On learning that I was not acquainted in the place an invitation was immediate- ly and cordially given to go home with them, which invitation, after some hesitation I accepted. From the mo- ment I entered their beautiful home, I knew them to be people ofintelligence, culture and wealth. I was treated with as much cordiality and given as warm a reception as a much loved relative could ask for. And I was but a stranger without home or f.iends for the time being. To me such a reception and welcome was true hospitality, dis- pelling the home-sickness which could not wholly be avoided. From first to last the visit was a delightful one, and I feel that I have secured some life-long friends who are worthy of my truest friendship. I offered to pay for my staying over night, the same as at a hotel, but the money was promptly re- fused, with the remark that they only wished to do by me as they would like to be done by, under like circumstances. Were they not truly hospitable? Is not such an incident an evidence that the kindness and love for our fellows have not all gone out of fashion yet?, Kind wishes for Beatrix and our numerous HOUSEHOLD family. This is my first coming among you, although I have often admired from a distance. LANSING. JOY BELL. SEEN IN THE STORES. So many dainty, beautiful, elegant, useful, cheap things are always to be seen in our city stores, most attrac- tively diSplayed to charm the dollars and dimes out of our purses, that it is really a sort of feminine “Temptation of St. Anthony” to go down town; and a dollar not already mortgaged to some foreordained purpose is sure to escape if it- is in one’s pocket. I do not wonder city girls with liberal allowances of pocketsmoney get to be little spend- thrifts; there are so many easy ways to spend it; and the eye and the palate are ever being tempted by the things girls love—the bonbons, the ribbons, the dainty handkerchiefs, the flowers, the fruits, all set out with the deliberate, intent to capture the cash. For instance, the market is as gay as a summer sunset with the yellow and orange and bronze of chrysanthemums. There are the plants themselves at forty cents each, and almost everybody manages to have at least one to beauti- fy the front windows. If not, agreat cluster of the pure yellow or those richer tinted blooms that border on orange is thrust into an “old blue” or a blue-and-white jar, and decorates the little table in the bay. November is truly the “ chrysanthemum month;” and what a magnificent ending it makes for the floral year! There is such a wonderful variety in colors and char- acteristics. At one of the bazars I saw some pretty trifles for Christmas. A hairpin 5r?’:=ll 1“ 53‘ vi zooming, :n ,omcpmcoO‘ -V“