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IR-The bearer of this, who is going to America, presses me to give him a letter of recommendation, though I know nothing of him, not even his name. This may seem extraordinary, but I assure you it is not uncommon here. Sometimes, indeed, one unknown person brings another equally unknown, to recommend him; and sometimes they recommend one another! As to this gentleman, I must refer you to himself for his character and merits, with which he is certainly better acquainted than I can possibly be. I recommend him, however, to those civilities which every stranger, of whom one knows no harm, has a right to; and I request you will do him all the favor that, on further acquaintance, you shall find him to deserve. I have the honor to be, etc.-Paris, April 2, 1777.-Franklin.

When the state is most corrupt, then laws are most multiplied.-Tacitus.


HUSBANDMAN who had a quarrelsome family, after having tried in vain to reconcile them by words, thought he might more readily prevail by an example. So he called his sons and bade them lay a bundle of sticks. before him. Then having tied them up into a fagot, he told the lads, one after another, 'to take it up and break it. They all tried, but tried in vain. Then, untying the fagot, he gave them the sticks to break one by one. This they did with the greatest ease. Then said the father: Thus, my sons, as long as you remain united, you are a match for all your enemies; but differ and separate, and you are undone."-Esop.

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HOEVER examines, with due cir

cumspection, into the Annual Records of Time, will find it remarked, that war is the child of pride, and pride the daughter of riches the former of which assertions may be soon granted, but one can not so easily subscribe to the latter; for pride is nearly related to beggary and want, either by father or mother, and sometimes by both: and to speak naturally, it very seldom happens among men to fall out when all have enough: invasions usually travelling from north to south, that is to say, from poverty to plenty. The most ancient and natural grounds of quarrels, are lust and avarice; which, though we may allow to be brethren, or collateral branches of pride, are certainly the issues of want.-Jonathan Swift.

"T is the mind that makes the body rich. -Shakespeare.

PERHAPS purely and typically Shel

ERHAPS none of Shelley's poems


leian than "The Cloud," and it is interesting to note how essentially it springs from the faculty of make-believe. The same thing is conspicuous, though less purely conspicuous, throughout his singing; it is the child's faculty of makebelieve raised to the nth power. He is still at play, save only that his play is such as manhood stops to watch, and his playthings are those which the gods give their children. The universe is the box of toys. He dabbles his fingers in the day-fall. He is gold-dusty with tumbling amidst the stars. He makes bright mischief with the moon meteors nuzzle their noses in his hand. He teases into growling the kennelled thunder, and laughs at the shaking of its fiery chain. He dances in and out of the gates of heaven; its floor is littered with his broken fancies. He runs wild over the fields of ether. He chases the rolling world. He gets between the feet of the horses of the sun. He stands in the lap of patient Nature, and twines her loosened tresses after a hundred wilful fashions, to see how she will look nicest in his song.-Francis Thompson.


longer change yesterday: it arches over us as fate, but we can influence decidedly the factor of today's life which is multiplied into the whole achievement of the paste

The Body


Benjamin Franklin, Printer
(Like the cover of an old book,
Its contents torn out,

EN differ from each other in quality rather than in quantity of life. It is true, some are granted more years than others; but after all that is not so important. One would rather live a year than vegetate for a century, though I grant you it would be better to live for a hundred years than for one, if we could be sure we were living all the time and not simply staying above the ground. Yet everyone interprets life in terms of its quality rather than its quantity. Looking back over the past one often finds a day or a week standing out longer in memory than years that preceded and followed it It was longer in significance, one lived more, and so the day had deeper meaning for the spirit than years

That is why the margin of time we have to spend as we please is so sacred; and the briefer the margin, the more precious it becomes. If you have ten hours a day to spend as you please, you may perhaps afford to waste an hour of it-perhaps; but if you have only half an hour each day at your own free disposal that halfhour becomes a sacred opportunity of life, the chance to change the quality of your existence, to multiply the capital on which you are doing business in the vocation of living.

And stripped of its lettering and gilding,) Lies here food for worms.

Yet the work itself shall not be lost, For it will (as he believes) appear once


In a new

And more beautiful Edition
Corrected and Amended

The Author

"Franklin's self-written epitaph"

of mere routine existence. We have lived, not so many days and years, but so much work and love and struggle and joy and heart-ache. Life is always measured in terms of its quality by the standards of the soul ❤

There is, morever, one most encouraging and consoling law in human development: we grow, not in an arithmetical, but in a geometrical ratio, the increment of new life being multiplied into the old and not simply added to it. A new thought achieved is not added to the sum of one's past thinking, but multiplied into it, becoming a new point of view, from which one sees in changing perspective all other facts and ideas. One step up in the mountain widens the horizon in all directions.

It is the increment of new life multiplied into the old that so largely determines the whole product of life, as far as it is within our own control We can no

No, the river of time sweeps on with regular, remorseless current. There are hours when we would give all we possess if we could but check the flow of its waters, there are other hours when we long to speed them more rapidly; but desire and effort alike are futile. Whether we work or sleep, are earnest or idle, rejoice or moan in agony, the river of time flows on with the same resistless flood; and it is only while the water of the river of time flows over the mill-wheel of today's life that we can utilize it. Once it is past, it is in the great, unreturning sea of eternity. Other opportunities will come, other waters will flow; but that which has slipped by unused is lost utterly and will return not again.

-Edward Howard Griggs.

I don't think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday. -Abraham Lincoln.

APOLEON is the world's
greatest example of the Will-
to-Power, perhaps without
an equal in his individual
mastery over conditions and

over men s 90

with his own success, he attempts to stride the world like a Colossus. And in an evil hour, more by his own failure, than through the strength of his foes, he falters and fails, as power always does and always will, for it is certain, sooner or later, to encounter a greater power or perish through internal dissension and corruption. Now turn for a moment

I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever.

It has been said of him that " he leaped
the Mediterranean; he dashed across
the desert; threw himself against the
gate of the Orient,
and its hinges,
rusted by five hun-
dred years of dis-
use, were shattered.
He smote slothful
Europe, and its
medieval systems
crumbled to dust.
He infused armies,
lawyers, artists,
builders, with the
electric force of the
revolution, and, at
his command,
codes were formu-
lated, arches and
bridges were built,
roads were made
and canals were
dug. The ruler of
Italy at twenty-

And a toiler dies in a day.

I am sick of the showy seeming,
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by,
From the sleepless thought endeavor
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.

to the Man of Galilee. What is the heart of his philosophy-" so simple," Canon Farrar "that


used to say, a little child can understand it-so profound that all the wisdom of the world can not exhaust it?" se Jesus taught that all men are children of one Heavenly Father, and that, therefore, the natural condition of men is one of mutual helpfulness and of universal friendship. He conceived of the race as one human family. He refused to recognize the gulf the leaders of his people had fixed between Jew and Gentile or between the righteous and the wicked. That man is great, according to the Nazarene's gospel, who has the strength to serve and the patience to suffer-one who conquers not the world but his own selfish heart and lives to bless his fellows.

(Concluded on next page)

six, the despot of Egypt at twenty-eight, the dictator of France at thirty, the master of Europe at thirty-two," and for twenty years thereafter the central figure and the most dramatic of the world's history.

His dispatches are filled with the words: Success, Riches, Glory, Fame-these were the talismanic words of Napoleon, and yet there is in all the tragic story of man no sadder failure. Even in the days of his power, he was called "The Great Unloved." Though master of the world, save only one little island lying off in the fog of the North Atlantic-" that wart on the nose of Europe," as he persisted in calling England-though master of the world, yet of him his friend could only affirm: "Napoleon, grand, gloomy and peculiar, sits upon his throne a sceptered hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own ambition.'

Made dizzy by his own power, drunken

Jesus was the incarnation of the spirit that allays strife, changes animosity to friendship-his was the spirit that helps and heals. Jesus was the Prince of Peace as between man and man, nation and nation, race and race. Jesus was the Prince of Compassion. He saw the multitude poor and distressed and said, with infinite tenderness, "I have compassion on the multitude." Jesus was the Prince of Forgiveness and taught the deadliness of hate to the one who hates. Jesus was the Prince of Love and, because of


this, as a great Frenchman has said, the arch-seducer of souls." His royal proclamation was, "Come unto me and I will give you rest.” His last benediction was, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you."

midsea or 'mong the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death. This brave and tender man in

Napoleon, on the other hand, was the
Prince of War, the incarnation of its
spirit, an exemplar of its cruelty-he was
the Prince of Des-
tructive Energy,
of devastating
force. His empire
was builded upon
the sorrows of his
fellowmen and
cemented by their
blood and tears

I can feel no pride, but pity

He was the Prince of Hate and sowed the seeds of lasting hate and bitterness. And lastly, he was the Prince of Unrelieved Despair, "The Great Unloved," therefore most miserable.-William Day Simonds.

For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city,
But the patient lives of the poor.
O, the little hands too skilful.

And the child mind choked with weeds,
The daughter's heart grown wilful,

And the father's heart that bleeds.

No, no, from the street's rude bustle,
From trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the wood's low rustle

And the meadow's kindly page.
Let me dream as of old by the river.
And be loved for the dream alway;
For a dreamer lives forever,

And a toiler dies in a day.

every storm of life was oak and rock; but in the sunshine he was vine and flower. He was the friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the heights and left all superstitions far below, while on his forehead fell the golden dawning of the grander day.

He loved the beautiful, and was with color, form, and music touched to tears. He sided with the weak, the poor, and wronged, and lovingly gave alms. With loyal heart and with the purest hands he faithfully discharged all public trusts.

"The Dreamer," by John Boyle O'Reilly

EAR Friends: I am going to do that which the dead oft promised he would do for me.

The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling toward the west se

He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks the highest point; but being weary for a moment, he lay down by the wayside, and using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust.

Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. For whether in


He was a worshiper of liberty, a friend of the oppressed. A thousand times I have heard him quote these words: For Justice all place a temple, and all season, summer." He believed that happiness is the only good, reason the only torch, justice the only worship, humanity the only religion, and love the only priest. He added to the sum of human joy; and were every one to whom he did some loving service to bring a blossom to his grave, he would sleep tonight beneath a wilderness of flowers.

Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in

the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing

He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, "I am better now." Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas, of fears and tears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead.

The record of a generous life runs like a vine around the memory of our dead, and every sweet, unselfish act is now a perfumed flower.

And now, to you, who have been chosen, from among the many men he loved, to do the last sad office for the dead, we give his sacred dust.

Speech can not contain our love. There was, there is, no gentler, stronger, manlier man I

-Robert G. Ingersoll. (Tribute to His Brother, Ebon C. Ingersoll.)

The greater the obstacle the more glory in overcoming it.-Molière.


HEN I left camp that morning I had not expected so soon the result that was then taking place, and consequently was in rough garb. I was without a sword-as I usually was when on horseback on the field-and wore a soldier's blouse for a coat, with the shoulder-straps of my rank to indicate to the army who I was. When I went into the house I found General Lee. We greeted each other, and after shaking hands, took our seats. I had my staff with me, a good portion of whom were in the room during the whole of the interview.


General Lee was dressed in a full uniform, which was entirely new, and was wearing a sword of considerable value-very likely the sword which had been presented by the State of Virginia; at all events, it was an entirely different sword from the one which would ordinarily be worn in the field. In my rough traveling suit the uniform of a private, with the straps of a lieutenant-general-I must have contrasted very strangely with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high, and of faultless form. But this was

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not a matter that I thought of until afterward. We soon fell into a conversation about old army times. He remarked that he remembered me very well in the old army; and I told him that as a matter of course I remembered him perfectly; but from the difference between our ranks and years (there being about sixteen years' difference between our ages), I had thought it very likely that I had not attracted his attention sufficiently to be remembered by him. after such a long interval. Our conversation grew so pleasant that I almost forgot the object of our meeting. After the conversation had run on in this way for some time, General Lee called my attention to the object of our meeting, and said that he had asked for this interview for the purpose of getting from me the terms I proposed to give his army. I said that I merely meant that his army should lay down their arms, not to take them up again during the war unless duly and properly exchanged. He said that he had so understood my letter. Then we gradually fell off into conversation about matters foreign to the subject which had brought us together. This continued for some time, when General Lee again interrupted the course of the conversation by suggesting that the terms I proposed to give his army ought to be written out. I called to General Parker, secretary on my staff, for writing materials, and commenced writing out the terms When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no mistaking it. As I wrote on, the thought occurred to me that the officers had their own private horses and effects, which were important to them, but of no value to us; also that it would be an unnecessary humiliation to call upon them to deliver their side-arms.

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No conversation-not one wordpassed between General Lee and myself either about private property, sidearms or kindred subjects. When he read over that part of the terms about sidearms, horses, and private property

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