e Englishwoman's speech is in her
utterance. "Her voice is ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing
in woman." Shakespeare knew the truth in this, as in so many other
things. One of the very few points on which we may be sure of his
personal preferences is that he disliked high voices and sharp speech in
women. Singular man! I fear that his ears would suffer here. The
Englishwoman's voice is strong as well as sweet, but her speech is low.
She rarely raises her voice. I do not remember having ever heard an
Englishwoman try to compel attention in that way; but I have heard
French and Spanish and Italian women, ladies of unquestionable position
and breeding, almost scream, and that, too, in society. Nor does the
Englishwoman use much emphasis. Her manner of speech is calm, although
without any suggestion of dignity, and her inflections, which rise
often, although they are full of meaning, are gentle. I remarked this
difference in her speech of itself, but much more when I heard again the
speech of my own countrywomen. I had not been in their company five
minutes--not one--when I was pierced through from ear to ear. They
seemed to me to be talking in italics, to be emphasizing every word, as
if they would thrust it into my ears, whether I would or not. They
seemed to scream at me. They did scream. I am sure that to their
emphatic and almost fierce utterance is due, in a very great measure,
the inferior charm of their speech, when compared with that of their
sisters who have remained in the "old home." If they would be a little
more gentle, a little less self-asserting, a little less determined, and
a little more persuasive in their utterance as well as in their manner,
I am sure that, with all their other advantages, they need fear no
rivalry in womanly charm, even with the truly feminine, sensible,
soft-mannered, sweet-voiced women of England.

RICHARD GRANT WHITE.

LIFE INSURANCE.

The most certain, and at the same time the most uncertain of events, is
the period of the termination of human life. This is a seeming paradox;
nay, it is more than seeming. The time when any member of the human
family will shuffle off this mortal coil no science can forecast, no art
discover; but the successive numbers out of any thousand men of given
ages who will, year after year, die, has been ascertained by actual
count in so many instances and verified by experience for so long a
time, that it is safe to say that no law i