our chapters. Humbug is both serious and silly; and we think that the prevailing error and evil in reference to it is that the community has had presented to it most prominently its ridiculous side. The very use of the word has been ruled out of sober society and serious speech, as if the thing ought only to be spoken of amid brawlers, and that always to be laughed at. The general impression is that even the word itself is not a true word, and that it did not come into our language by the door, but climbed in some other way. It is regarded as a great indulgence that it is permitted to grace the lines of the lowest newspaper paragraph; and then it is only to be the signal of slur and fun Webster condescends to give it place in his Dictionary, but adds, in brackets, "A low word!" All this indicates that no serious idea or interest is conceived to lie back of the word; and, what is more, it betrays the great mistake, that the spirit or element which we designate by the word Humbug, has no serious bearing upon the interests of society. Whereas, we conceive, there is not now any spirit going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it, which deals more cruelly with the purses, brains, and hearts of men. In the meantime-suffer us yet to remark-we find, just precisely in this light treatment of the matter, the true ground of its immense prevalence at the present time. We laugh at the smartness of Humbug; we laugh at the folly of his dupes, high or low; and whether the trick has been on the scale of the mite or the million, it is good-humoredly covered by the word Humbug, at the mention of which every one is expected to laugh. In no direction is society more gracious and sweetly forgiving than towards Humbug. With a hand in empty pocket—a cheek red with the shameful sense of having been duped, and with an eye burning with anger and wounded pride, the deluded victim stands before the community, and is tacitly assured that the only consolation in the case is to laugh. Thus is this meanest and foulest of spirits shielded, protected, and encouraged by the light and smiles of the public countenance. It is a great mistake to suppose that the word Humbug is either a new or an illegitimate word. It is an old English word, and is respectably derived. The present ridiculousness of its associations has its ground, not in the word, nor yet in the thing, but in the frivolous spirit of the age, which has so far lost respect for itself as to laugh at its own weakness and folly! Let us look for a moment to the elements and the derivation of this word, and thus learn also its true meaning, as well as the specific nature of the spirit and thing of which it is the symbol. It is a compound word, formed from the words hum and puck-not bug. The word hum is a truly natural word, formed in imitation of the sound, as of bees, of a waterfall, the sea, or of a multitude of people. Humming was, in the time of Burnet and Johnson, the mode of expressing approbation in a public meeting. It was done, not only in political meetings, but even in churches. In the time of Charles II. it was attempted even in a court hall. The Lord Chief Baron reproved the multitude for expressing their approbation in this way: "Gentlemen, this humming is not at all becoming the gravity of this court. It is more fitting for a stag-play than for a court of justice." This shows that humming characterized, not deliberative meetings, but only popular assemblies. The humming of the people, which was the same thing as their favor, was the thing sought by demagogues; and to gain this end every art was used. Hence the word hum acquired the meaning: to cajole, to trick, to delude by flattery, to soothe and coax into measure by cunning words and devices. Thus, a hummer is one who gathers around him a swarm of persons, and seeks by trickery to use their favor for his own interests and ends. Bug comes from puck-puke; which means in Islandic an evil spirit, and in suio-Gothic, devil. Combine this sense of it with hum, to trick, and you have Humbug-"a devilish trick." This indicates the existence of an evil element in Humbug. Imaginary beings which were supposed to entice travelers out of their homes to destroy them, were formerly called Pucks. Thus Drayton : "This PUCK seems but a dreaming dolt, Still walking like a ragged colt, And oft out of a bush doth bolt, He doth with laughter leave us." It is easy to see how this idea of pucks is related to Humbug-one who hums to lead astray, and leaves his dupes with laughter. Thus we have also bug-bear, originally puck-bear, some ugly object or spectre which, it was said, comes to take away bad children, and by the aid of which children are duped and tricked into measures. an old poet: "They are told strange bug-beares haunt the place.” Saith Pug is also applied to a monkey, on account of its tricks and mimicry. Hence, also, a certain kind of noses are called pug-noses, from their resemblance to the nose of a monkey. We all know that not only monkeyish cunning, but even the monkey itself has played no small part in Humbug. What is an organ-grinder without a monkey! It is perhaps. difficult to tell which has most to do in producing the humming assembly around the sublime music, or the ridiculous monkey! We venture the opinion that pug is the Hamlet in that play; and we pronounce it rather a menagerie than an opera. This brings out naturally another variation of the word, and thus also another illustration of our subject. There is a certain well-known creature called big-bug-puck, or pug. When we remember that pug is a monkey, the sense of big-bug will at once suggest itself. If we give pug the sense of "a cheat, or one that is a counterfeit," we have also the true idea of big-bug; for such an one is always only an outer shell, supported an filled out by no inner man. If we give "puck" the idea of one who siren-like misleads or entices others, we find the idea also legitimatized in big-bug; for as soon as there is one big-puck fitted out, with riggings on, there is a humming swarm of little pucks at his heels. One more derivative will bring out the full idea of this part of the word, and so also the true nature of Humbug: it is a word which signifies a gathering produced by deception. We allude to the word pucker, as when one has eaten persimmons. It is not only a gathering by cheat, in that he took them for ripe when they were not, but also in that he produces the impression that he intends to whistle when in truth he does not so intend! From this examination of the elements and derivatives of the word we have arrived at the full true meaning, sense, and nature of Humbug. I. It produces a gathering by the aid of humming noises, flattery, and deception. It is not personal, individual imposition, but wholesale and popular. It needs a crowd to answer its purposes. Plying deception in a private way, as by the peddling of wooden nutmegs and pumpkin-seed, is not humbug; it is only imposition. Humbug must swarm to be genuine. II. Humbug has in it the evil or devilish element. Not all gatherings are humbug. True business, true genius, true benefactors may gather a swarm. It is not the hum that gives character to the thing. but the puck-the evil spirit in which it is done, the evil end in view. One may bring a swarm around him either to give to them or to take from them. As among bees, a true swarm is always a going out; a false swarm is a gathering to rob, to take. Humbug gathers a crowd for his sake, not for their sake. Humbug is like a light that gathers a swarm of moths and millers to singe their wings, and to feed its flame with their fuz and fat. Humbug is like a shark; he gathers the little fish around him, opens his mouth, and says, with fatherly affection, "Come in, dear children, in union there is strength." III. To produce this swarm, and to get the victims within reach, Humbug uses tricks as attractions-stratagems as stimulus. Not something which they discover in him, but something which he shows them, produces the swarm. True Humbug is a showman. The hum alone does not make the thing-the pug-the monkey must be present, and to He must advertise, he must blow his trumpet, he must call the people together, he must resort to "the cry of him that ruleth among fools." be seen. IV. Humbug must surround himself with an element of mystery. He must be a puck-bear, such as children regard with awe. He has to do with children of a larger growth; but which, like smaller ones, are to be ruled, not by reason, but by mysteries; they must be awed by secret wonders, and then coaxed by show of toys. See the children around the organ-grinder's monkey-how awful to be too near him, and yet how sweet to be in the inner row! A true picture of a crowd of larger infants around Humbug. A fearful (with uplifted hands,) a glorious wonder! Humbug is the great sun in the center, and they, ranged around like planets, are held in their places, as by centripedal. and centrifugal forces, by the alternations of love to it, and tear of it. Or, to use a better figure, Humbug is the charming serpent, coiled and colored in the midst; they are held in extacies and in fear around, until he covers them with slime, and swallows them one by one. If now we would bring these several characteristic elements together, and represent them by specific terms, we have these: Humbug is a mountebank, a devil, a showman, and a conjuring quack. In him these four are one. By these characteristics he may be known wherever he makes his appearance. Let the readers of The Guardian keep a look out for him and save their money, good name, and self-respect. THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHER'S DREAM. I NEVER shall forget the night-last August was a year-I went to the Sabbath-school as usual in the morning, but the heat was oppressive; there was not a breath of air stirring. My class seemed unusually restless and inattentive, and myself felt an inexpressible languor, which I am sure they could not help observing. Once or twice I forgot the question I had asked; and several times I had to require a repetition of an answer, which I might have heard at first if I had not been unaccountably stupid. In the afternoon I was half inclined to stay at home, but my conscience loudly remonstrated, and I went to school as usual. I found only three of my class present, and I was glad when the hour of public worship arrived, to relieve me from my post. In the evening I retired from my room at the accustomed hour, and entered upon my private exercises of devotion. I was sensible that the day had been a very long and tedious one. I felt that I had not only failed to make any progress myself in the divine life, but that I had been unusually negligent in my duty towards my class. I tried to satisfy myself that my spirit was willing, but conscience told me that through all the six preceding days (and every one of them had been excessively warm) I had applied myself to business without this sense of weariness; and I knew, if I should live, that I should probably return to my worldly pursuits, the next day, with the same spirit and activity. Why this languor then, in the service of God and in the affairs of the soul, and not elsewhere? When I attempted to pray for God's gracious acceptance of my labors, I felt condemned and ashamed; and, after commending myself, in a very hurried and formal manner, to the divine forgiveness and protection I went to bed. But sleep was far from me. The uneasiness of my conscience, and the thought that I might possibly never see my class again, greatly troubled At last, however, exhausted with the extreme heat and a sort of nervous irritability, (which, to be understood, must be felt,) I insensibly sunk to sleep. me. A confused train of strange images passed before my mind; and, without any idea of previous sickness and death, I dreamed that I was borne upward to the blessed abode of the righteous; and a blessed abode indeed it seemed to me. The beautiful city of eternal life appeared covered with a soft and resplendent light, so bright and dazzling, that the gates and towers upon the walls were but distinctly seen. As I approached, I saw the foundation and the outline of the city very much as they are described in the revelation of John the Divine. It was indeed a glorious sight; and my soul was filled with rapture at the thought of dwelling with saints and angels in an abode so pure, and bright, and happy. I went up to the nearest gate, which stood wide open, and saw for a moment the streets of the city. They looked as if they were overlaid with one seamless covering of pure gold, as if it were transparent glass. The people were passing back and forth, and were all clothed in raiment of spotless white. The light was different from anything I had ever seen. There was something in it indescribably pure and soft, and yet |