The Continental Monthly, Vol. I. February, 1862, No. II. | Page 5

the better; it is only conferring strength on the people. There is no danger that the men of the North will ever lose a shadow of individual rights. They are too powerful.
And now let the freemen of America speak, and the work will be done. A great day is at hand; hasten it. The hour which sees this Union re-united will witness the most glorious triumph of humanity,--the greatest step towards realizing the social aim of Christianity, and of Him who died for all,--the recognition of the rights of every one. Onward!
* * * * *
BROWN'S LECTURE TOUR.
I.--HOW HE CAME TO DO IT.
My last speculation had proved a failure. I was left with a stock of fifty impracticable washing-machines on my hands, and a cash capital of forty-four cents. With the furniture of my room, these constituted my total assets. I had an unsettled account of forty dollars with Messrs. Roller & Ems, printers, for washing-machine circulars, cards, etc.; and--
Rap, rap, rap!
[Enter boy.]
'Mr. Peck says as how you'll please call around to his office and settle up this afternoon, sure.'
[Exit boy.]
_New York, Nov. 30, 1859_.
Mr. GREEN D. BROWN,
TO JOHN PECK, Dr.
To Rent of Room to date $9 00
_Rec'd Pay't_,
I came to the emphatic conclusion that I was 'hard up.'
I kept bachelor's hall in Franklin Street, in apartments not altogether sumptuous, yet sufficiently so for my purposes,--to wit, to sit in and to sleep in; and inasmuch as I took my meals amid the gilded splendors of the big saloon on the corner of Broadway, I was not disposed to reproach myself with squalor. Yet the articles of furniture in my room were so far removed, separately or in the aggregate, from anything like the superfluous, that when I calmly deliberated what to part with, there was nothing which struck me as a luxury or a comfort as distinct from a necessary of life. I took a second mental inventory: two common chairs, a table, a mirror, a rocking-chair, a bed, a lounge, and a single picture on the wall.
I declare, thought I, here's nothing to spare.
But things were getting to a crisis. I must 'make a raise,' somehow. Borrow? Ah, certainly--where was the benevolent moneyed individual? My credit had gone with my cash; both were sunk in the washing-machines.
I lighted my pipe, and surveyed my household goods once more.
There was the picture: couldn't I do without that?
Possibly. But that picture I had had--let me see--fifteen, yes, sixteen years. That picture was a third prize for excellence in declamation, presented me at the school exhibition in ---- Street, when I was twelve years old. That was in 1843, and here, on the first of December, 1859, I sat deliberately meditating its sale for paltry bread and butter!
No, no; I'd go hungry a little longer, before I'd part with that old relic--remembrancer of the proudest day of my life. What a pity I hadn't permitted that day to give a direction to my life, instead of turning my attention to the paltry expedients for money-making followed by the common herd! I might have been an accomplished orator by this time, capable of drawing crowds and pocketing a thousand a month, or so. But my tastes had run in other channels since the day when I took that prize.
Still, when I thought of it deliberately, I made bold to believe there was that yet in me which could meet the expectant eyes of audiences nor quail before them.
A thought struck me! Was not here an 'opening' for an enterprising young man? Was not the lecture-season at hand? Did not lecturers get from ten to two hundred dollars per night? Couldn't I talk off a lecture with the best of them, perhaps? Well, perhaps I could, and perhaps not, but if I wouldn't try it on, I hoped I might be blessed--that--was all.
I thought proper, after having reached this conclusion, to calculate my wealth in the way of preliminary requisites to success. By preliminary requisites to success, I mean those which lead to the securing of invitations to lecture. I flattered myself that all matters consequent to this point in my career would very readily turn themselves to my advantage. The preliminary requisites were as follows:--
1. Notoriety. I could boast of nothing in this line. I had no reputation whatever. I had never written a line for publication.
When I had satisfied myself that I lacked this grand requisite, I turned my attention to the subject again only to find that No. 1 was quite alone in its glory. It was the Alpha and Omega of the preliminary requisites. I should never be able to get a solitary invitation.
Here I was for a moment disheartened; but, persevering in my newly-assumed part of literary philosopher, I proceeded to the consideration of the consequent requisites:--
1. Literary ability.