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it esteems itself as a nation and not as a people. As a people, it readily subordinates itself, and takes a lord as its head; the workman lets himself be despised; the soldier puts up with flogging. It will be remembered that, at the battle of Inkerman, a sergeant who, as it appears, saved the British army, could not be mentioned by Lord Raglan, because the military hierarchy does not allow any hero below the rank of officer to be mentioned in dispatches. What we admire before all, in an encounter like Waterloo, is the prodigious skill of chance. The night raid, the wall of Hougomont, the hollow of Ohain, Grouchy deaf to the cannon, Napoleon's guide deceiving him, Bulow's guide enlightening him-all this cataclysm is marvelously managed.

Altogether, we will assert, there is more of a massacre than of a battle in Waterloo. Waterloo, of all pitched battles, is the one which had the smallest front for such a number of combatants. Napoleon's three-quarters of a league. Wellington's half a league, and seventy-two thousand combatants on either side. From this density came the carnage. The following calculation has been made and proportion established: loss of men, at Austerlitz, French, fourteen per cent; Russian, thirty per cent; Austrian, forty-four per cent. At Wagram, French, thirteen per cent; Austrian, fourteen per cent. At Moscow, French, thirty-seven per cent; Russian, forty-four per cent. At Bautzen, French, thirteen per cent; Russian and Prussian, fourteen per cent. At Waterloo, French, fifty-six per cent; Allies, thirtyone per cent-total for Waterloo, fortyone per cent, or out of one hundred and forty-four thousand fighting men, sixty thousand killed.

The field of Waterloo has at the present day that calmness which belongs to the earth, and resembles all plains; but at night, a sort of visionary mist rises from it, and if any traveler walk about it, and listen and dream, like Virgil on the mournful plain of Philippi, the hallucination of the catastrophe seizes upon him. The frightful June 18th lives again, the false monumental hill is leveled, the

wondrous lion is dissipated, the battlefield resumes its reality, lines of infantry undulate on the plain; furious galloping crosses the horizon; the startled dreamer sees the flash of sabers, the sparkle of bayonets, the red light of shells, the monstrous collision of thunderbolts; he hears, like a death groan from the tomb, the vague clamor of the phantom battle. These shadows are grenadiers; these flashes are cuirassiers; this skeleton is Napoleon; this skeleton is Wellington; all this is non-existent, and yet still combats, and the ravines are stained purple, and the trees rustle, and there is fury even in the clouds and in the darkness, while all the stern heights, Mont St. Jean, Hougomont, Frischemont, Papelotte, and Plancenoit, seem confusedly crowned by hosts of specters exterminating one another.-Victor Hugo.

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I PLACE Rembrandt at the head of

the moderns, and far above them all. Correggio alone approaches him at certain moments. Rembrandt did not seek after plastic beauty like the Italians, but he discovered souls, he understood them and transfigured them in his marvelous light. Titian's or rather, the Duke of Genoa's-mistress is more beautiful than Rembrandt's Saskia, but how infinitely I prefer the latter! As a colorist, I place Rembrandt above Titian above Veronese, above every one! Rembrandt never lets our attention wander, as the others sometimes do. He commands it, concentrates it; we can not escape him. We feel that Rembrandt was full of kindliness. He loved the poor, he painted them as they were, in all their wretchedness. There is something penetrating, kindly, acute, sensual, in his own radiantly living face, which wins the spectator's heart as he gazes.


God be thanked for books. They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages.-William E. Channing.

Art is more godlike than science. Science discovers; art creates.-John Opie.


myself grown and elevated, I looked down on the rest of my degenerate race with the eye of a giant.

You who wish to write about men, go into the deserts, become for a moment the child of nature, and then-and then only-take up the pen.

Among the innumerable enjoyments of this journey one especially made a vivid impression on my mind

A fire-mist and a planet,

A crystal and a cell,A jellyfish and a saurian,

And caves where the cave-men dwell; Then a sense of law and beauty,

HEN in my journeys among the Indian tribes of Canada, I left European dwellings, and found myself, for the first time, alone in the midst of an ocean of forests, having, so to speak, all nature prostrate at my feet, a strange change took place within me, I followed no road; I went from tree to tree, now to the right, now to the left, saying to myself, "Here there are no more roads to follow, no more towns, no more narrow houses, no more presidents, republics, or kings above all no more laws, and no more men. Men! Yes, some good savages, who cared nothing for me, nor I for them; who, like me, wandered freely wherever their fancy led them, eating when they felt inclined,

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And a face turned from the clod,Some call it Evolution,

And others call it God.

A haze on the far horizon,

The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe, rich tint of the cornfields,
And the wild geese sailing high,-
And all over upland and lowland

I was going then to see the famous cataract of Niagara, and I had taken my way through the Indian tribes who inhabit the deserts to the west of the American plantations. My guides werethe sun, a pocketcompass, and the Dutchman of whom I have spoken: the latter understood perfectly five dialects of the Huron language. Our train consisted of two horses, which we let loose in the forests at night, after fastening a bell to their necks. I was at first a little afraid of losing them, but my guide reassured me by pointing out that, by a wonderful instinct, these good animals never wandered out of sight of our fire.

The charm of the goldenrod,-
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it God.
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sleeping when and where they pleased. And, in order to see if I were really established in my original rights, I gave myself up to a thousand acts of eccentricity, which enraged the tall Dutchman who was my guide, and who, in his heart, thought I was mad.

Escaped from the tyrannous yoke of society, I understood then the charms of that independence of nature which far surpasses all the pleasures of which civilized man can form any idea. I understood why not one savage has become a European, and why many Europeans have become savages; why the sublime Discourse on the Inequality of Rank is so little understood by the most part of our philosophers. It is incredible how small and diminished the nations and their most boasted institutions appeared in my eyes; it seemed to me as if I saw the kingdoms of the earth through an inverted spy-glass, or rather that, being

One evening, when, as we calculated that we were only about eight or nine leagues from the cataract, we were preparing to dismount before sunset, in order to build our hut and light our watch-fire after the Indian fashion, we perceived in the wood the fires of some savages who were encamped a little lower down on the shores of the same stream as we were. We went to them. The Dutchman having by my orders asked their permission for us to pass the night with them, which was granted immediately, we set to work with our hosts. After having cut down some branches, planted some stakes, torn off

before the fire; the women took them quietly into their arms and put them to bed among the skins, with a mother's tenderness so delightful to witness in these so-called savages: the conversation died away by degrees, and each fell asleep in the place where he was.

Like tides on a crescent sea-beach,
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings

some bark to cover our palace, and performed some other public offices, each of us attended to his own affairs. I brought my saddle, which served me well for a pillow all through my travels; the guide rubbed down the horses; and as to his night accomodation, since he was not so particular as I am, he generally made use of the dry trunk of a tree. Work being done, we seated ourselves in a circle, with our legs crossed like tailors, around the immense fire, to roast our heads of maize, and to prepare supper. I had still a flask of brandy, which served to enliven our savages not a little. They found out that they had some bear hams, and we began a royal feast.

The family consisted of two women, with infants at their breasts,

Come welling and surging in,Come from the mystic ocean,

Whose rim no foot has trod,Some of us call it Longing,

And others call it God.

A picket frozen on duty—

A mother starved for her brood—
Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;

And millions who, humble and nameless,
The straight, hard pathway plod,—
Some call it Consecration,

I alone could not close my eyes, hearing on all sides the deep breathing of my hosts. I raised my head, and, supporting myself on my elbow, watched by the red light of the expiring fire the Indians stretched around me and plunged in sleep. I confess that I could hardly refrain from tears. Brave youth, how your peaceful sleep affects me! You, who seemed so sensible of the woes of your native land, you were too great, too high-minded to mistrust the foreigner! Europeans, what a lesson for you! These same savages whom we have pursued with fire and sword, to whom our avarice would not leave a spadeful of earth to cover their corpses in all this world, formerly their vast patrimony-these same savages receiving their enemy into their hospitable hut, sharing with him their miserable meal, and, their couch undisturbed by remorse, sleeping close to him the calm sleep of the innocent. These virtues are as much above the virtues of conventional life as the soul of the man in his natural state is above that of the man in society.

And others call it God. "Each In His Own Tongue,"

and three warriors; two of them might be from forty to forty-five years of age, although they appeared much older, and the third was a young man.

by William Herbert Carruth

The conversation soon became general; that is to say, on my side it consisted of broken words and many gestures-an expressive language, which these nations understand remarkably well, and that I had learned among them. The young man alone preserved an obstinate silence; he kept his eyes constantly fixed on me. In spite of the black, red and blue stripes, cut ears, and the pearl hanging from his nose, with which he was disfigured, it was easy to see the nobility and sensibility which animated his countenance. How well I knew he was inclined not to love me! It seemed to me as if he were reading in his heart the history of all the wrongs which Europeans have inflicted on his native country. The two children, quite naked, were asleep at our feet


The bed had become a place of luxury to me! I would not exchange it for all the thrones in the world.-Napoleon I.

The less people speak of their greatness the more we think of it.-Bacon.

HE greatest prerogative that man has, is his freedom to work. Few words have such individual, and yet such diverse, meanings to different people as the word "work," and no form of action has more diversity in its conception, because of differing viewpoints, than work.

A little child when asked his idea of work said, "Anything I have to do is work, and anything I want to do is play"-which answer showed that the child recognized his relation to that form of activity known as work; also it demonstrated that work had been presented to his mind as drudgery.

Drudgery is work which we make difficult; which is done because we must do it, and which we regard with aversion; it is the hard, sordid form of work, seemingly without hope and apart from any of the joy of accomplishment.

Work should be a joy; it should be the motive of our lives; and it would be if we regarded it in the light of its being a labor of love; but we have come to think of what we call labor with almost a sense of pain. Most of us resolve our work into labor and, while it results in accomplishment, it becomes unpleasant and strenuous in the method of its execution o

The secret of the true love of work is the hope of success in that work; not for the money reward, for the time spent, or for the skill exercised, but for the successful result in the accomplishment of the work itself.

-Sidney A. Weltmer.

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swaying on horses without bridle or saddle against a background of deep blue as on the frieze of the Parthenon. But afterwards I learned something of what the theory of evolution implies; realized that all great men are moments in the life of mankind, and that the lesson of every great life in the past must be learned before we can hope to push further into the Unknown than our predecessors. Gradually I came to understand that Jerusalem and not Athens is the sacred city and that one has to love Jesus and his gospel of love and pity or one will never come to full stature. Born rebels even have to realize that Love is the Way, the Truth and the Life; no one cometh to wisdom but by Love. The more I studied Jesus the greater he became to me till little by little he changed my whole outlook on life. I have been convinced now for years that the modern world in turning its back on Jesus and ignoring his teaching has gone helplessly astray.

There is new hope for us in the legend of Jesus and in his stupendous success; hope and perhaps even some foundation for faith. That a man should live in an obscure corner of Judea nineteen centuries ago, speak an insignificant dialect, and yet by dint of wisdom and goodness and in spite of having suffered a shameful death, reign as God for these two thousand years and be adored by hundreds of millions of the conquering races, goes far to prove that goodness and wisdom are fed by some hidden source and are certain therefore to increase among men.

We, too, can believe as Jesus believed, that goodness perpetuates itself, increasing from age to age, while the evil is diminishing, dying, and is only relative so to speak, or growth arrested. And our high task is to help this shaping spirit to self-realization and fulfilment in our own souls, knowing all the while that roses of life grow best about the Cross. -Frank Harris.

All truth is an achievement. If you would have truth at its full value, go win it.-Munger.

S the plow is the typical instrument of industry, so the fetter is the typical instrument of the restraint or subjection necessary in a nation either literally, for its evildoers, or figuratively, in accepted laws, for its wise and good men. You have to choose between this figurative and literal use; for depend upon it, the more laws you accept, the fewer penalties you will have to endure, and the fewer punishments to enforce. For wise laws and just restraints are to a noble nation not chains, but chain mail-strength and defense, though something also of an encumbrance. And this necessity of restraint, remember, is just as honorable to man as the necessity of labor. You hear every day greater numbers of foolish people speaking about liberty, as if it were such an honorable thing: so far from being that, it is, on the whole, and in the broadest sense, dishonorable, and an attribute of the lower creatures. No human being, however great or powerful, was ever so free as a fish. There is always something that he must or must not do; while the fish may do whatever he likes. All the kingdoms of the world put together are not half so large as the sea, and all the railroads and wheels that ever were, or will be invented are not so easy as fins. You will find, on fairly thinking of it, that it is his restraint which is honorable to man, not his liberty; and, what is more, it is restraint which is honorable even in the lower animals. A butterfly is much more free than a bee; but you honor the bee more, just because it is subject to certain laws which fit it for orderly function in bee society. And throughout the world, of the two abstract things, liberty and restraint, restraint is always the more honorable. It is true, indeed, that in these and all other matters you never can reason finally from the abstraction, for both liberty and restraint are good when they are nobly chosen, and both are bad when they are badly chosen; but of the two, I repeat, it is restraint which characterizes the higher creature and betters the lower creatures and, from the ministering of the arch

angel to the labor of the insect-from the poising of the planets to the gravitation of a grain of dust-the power and glory of all creatures, and all matter, consist in their obedience, not in their freedom. The sun has no liberty-a dead leaf has much. The dust of which you are formed has no liberty. Its liberty will come with its corruption. And, therefore I say that as the first power of a nation consists in knowing how to guide a plow, its second power consists in knowing how to wear the fetter.

-John Ruskin.

ISSES, groans, catcalls, drumming with the feet, loud conversation and imitations of animals went on throughout (the maiden speech of Benjamin Disraeli in the House of Commons).

But.... it does not follow that the maiden speech of the member for Maidstone was a failure. It was indeed in one sense a very hopeful business inasmuch as the reports prove he was quite capable of holding his own amidst extraordinary interruptions ♪ 30

Mr. Disraeli wound up in these words, "Now, Mr. Speaker, we see the philosophical prejudices of Man. (Laughter and cheers.) I respect cheers, even when they come from the mouth of a political opponent. (Renewed laughter.) I think, sir, (Hear! Hear! and repeated cries of Question!) I am not at all surprised, sir, at the reception I have met with, (continued laughter). I have begun several things many times (laughter, and I have always succeeded at last. (Question) Ay, sir, and though I sit down now, the time will come when you will hear me." -Disraeli.

Beauty does not lie in the face. It lies in the harmony between man and his industry. Beauty is expression. When I paint a mother I try to render her beautiful by the mere look she gives her child.-Jean Francois Millet.

Must endure

Their going hence, even as their coming hither:

Ripeness is all. Shakespeare.

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