Many a hundred years passed over have they labored deaf and blind; Never tidings reached their sorrow, never hope their toil might find. Now at last they've heard and hear it, and the cry comes down the wind, And their feet are marching on. O ye rich men, hear and tremble, for with words the sound is rife:

"Once for you and death we labored: changed henceforward is the strife, We are men, and we shall battle for the world of men and life;

And our host is marching on."

"Is it war, then? Will ye perish as the dry wood in the fire?

Is it peace? then be ye of us, let your hope be our desire.

Come and live! for life awaketh, and the world shall never tire:

And the hope is marching on." "On we march then, we the workers, and the rumor that ye hear Is the blended sound of battle and deliv

'rance drawing near; For the hope of every creature is the banner that we bear,

And the world is marching on." Hark the rolling of the thunder? Lo, the sun! and lo, thereunder Riseth wrath and hope and wonder And the host comes marching on. "The March of the Workers," by William Morris

to be perturbed or clouded. Each knows more than can be uttered; each lives by faith, and believes by a natural compulsion; and between man and wife the language of the body is largely developed and grown strangely eloquents The thought that prompted and was conveyed in a caress would only lose to be set down in words-ay, although Shakespeare himself should be the scribe. -Robert Louis Stevenson.

66

T takes," says Thoreau, in the noblest and most useful passage I remember to have read in any modern author, two to speak truth-one to speak and another to hear.” He must be very little experienced, or have no great zeal for truth, who does not recognize the fact. A grain of anger or a grain of suspicion produces strange acoustical effects, and makes the ear greedy to remark offence. Hence we find those who have once quarreled carry themselves distantly, and are ever ready to break the truce. To speak truth there must be moral equality or else no respect; and

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•

hence between parent and child inter-OUTH has a certain melancholy
and sadness, while Age is valiantly
cheerful .
A chief lesson of youth
should be to learn to enjoy solitude-
a source of peace and happiness...
In my
years of youth I was delighted when the
doorbell rang, for I thought, now it
(the great romantic adventure) had
come. But in later years my feeling on
the same occasion had something rather
akin to terror-I thought, there it comes!
-Schopenhauer.

course is apt to degenerate into a verbal
fencing bout, and misapprehensions to
become ingrained. And there is another
side to this, for the parent begins with
an imperfect notion of the child's char-
acter, formed in early years or during
the equinoctial gales of youth; to this
he adheres, noting only the facts which
suit with his preconception; and wher-
ever a person fancies himself unjustly
judged, he at once and finally gives up
the effort to speak truth so With our
chosen friends, on the other hand, and
still more between lovers (for mutual
understanding is love's essence), the
truth is easily indicated by the one and
aptly comprehended by the other.
A hint taken, a look understood, con-
veys the gist of long and delicate ex-
planations; and where the life is known,
even yea and nay become luminous. In
the closest of all relations-that of a
love well-founded and equally shared-
speech is half discarded, like a round-
about infantile process or a ceremony of
formal etiquette; and the two com-
municate directly by their presences,
and with few looks and fewer words con-
trive to share their good and evil and
uphold each other's hearts in joy. For
love rests upon a physical basis; it is a
familiarity of nature's making and apart
from voluntary choice. Understanding
has in some sort outrun knowledge, for
the affection perhaps began with the
acquaintance; and as it was not made
like other relations, so it is not, like them,

Co-operation is not a sentiment-it is an economic necessity.-Charles Steinmetz.

J0 90

To write well is to think well, to feel well, and to render well; it is to possess at once intellect, soul, and taste.-Buffon.

SPIRITUAL forces when manifested

in man exhibit a sequence, a succession of steps. It follows, therefore, that when a man at, one period of his life has omitted to put forth his strength in a work which he knows to be in harmony with the divine order of things, there comes a time, sooner or later, when a void will be perceived; when the fruits of his omitted action ought to have appeared, and do not; they are the missing links in the chain of consequences. The measure of that void is the measure of his past inaction, and that man will never quite reach the same level of attainment that he might have touched, had he divinely energized his lost moments. -Friedrich Froebel.

Whoever serves his country well has no need of ancestors.-Voltaire.

It hain't no use to grumble and complane;

It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice.When God sorts out the weather and sends rain,

W'y rain's my choice.

Men ginerly, to all intents—

Although they're apt to grumble somePuts most theyr trust in Providence, And takes things as they come

That is, the commonality

Of men that's lived as long as me Has watched the world enugh to learn They're not the boss of this concern. With some, of course, it's differentI've saw young men that knowed it all, And did n't like the way things went On this terrestchul ball;

But all the same, the rain, some way, Rained jest as hard on picnic day; Er, when they railly wanted it, It mayby would n't rain a bit! In this existunce, dry and wet

Will overtake the best of menSome little skift o' clouds 'll shet The sun off now and then.

(Concluded on next page)

names are landmarks in literature, to find that eccentricities no less striking have also been recorded of them. -Edgar Saltus.

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is for a man too sud

denly or too easily to believe himself. Wherefore let us examine, watch, observe, and inspect our own hearts, for we ourselves are our greatest flatterers. We should every night call ourselves to an account I What infirmity have I mastered today? What passion opposed? What temptation resisted? What virtue acquired? s Our vices will abate

of themselves if they be brought every day to the shrift.Oh the blessed sleep that follows such a diary!

Oh the tran-
quillity, liberty,
and greatness of
that mind which
is a spy upon it-
self, and a private
censor upon its
own manners!
It is my custom
every night, so
soon as the candle is out, to run over the
words and actions of the past day; and I
let nothing escape me, for why should
I fear the sight of my errors when I can
admonish and forgive myself? I was a
little too hot in such a dispute; my
opinion might well have been withheld,
for it gave offence and did no good. The
thing was true; but all truths are not to
be spoken at all times.

I would I had held my tongue, for there
is no contending, either with fools or
with our superiors. I have done ill, but
it shall be so no more.
If every man would but then look into

himself, it would be the better for us all. What can be more reasonable than this daily review of a life that we can not warrant for a moment? Our fate is set, and the first breath we draw is only our first motion toward our last. There is a great variety in our lives, but all tends to the same issue.

We are born to lose and to perish, to hope and to fear, to vex ourslves and others, and there is no antidote against a common calamity but virtue; for the foundation of true joy is in the conscience o

Seneca.

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IN every man's

life pilgrimage, however unblest, there are holy places where he is made to feel his kinship with the Divine; where the heavens bend low over his head and angels come and minister unto him so These are the places of sacrifice, the meeting-ground of mor

"Wet-Weather Talk," by James Whitcomb Riley tal and immortal,

And mayby, whilse you're wundern who
You've fool-like lent your umbrelľ to,
And want it-out'll pop the sun,
And you'll be glad you hain't got none!
It aggervates the farmers, too-
They's too much wet, er too much sun,
Er work, er waitin' round to do
Before the plowin' 's done:

And mayby, like as not, the wheat,
Jest as it's lookin' hard to beat,
Will ketch the storm—and jest about
The time the corn's a-jintin' out.
These-here cy-clones a-foolin' round-
And back'ard crops!—and wind and

rain!

And yit the corn that's wallerd down
May elbow up again!—

They hain't no sense, as I can see,
Fer mortuls, sich as us, to be
A-faultin' Natchur's wise intents,
And lockin' horns with Providence!
It hain't no use to grumble and complane;
It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice.
When God sorts out the weather and
sends rain,

W'y, rain's my choice.

the tents of trial wherein are waged the great spiritual combats of man's life. Here are the tears and agonies and the bloody sweat of Gethsemane Happy the man who, looking back, can say of himself: "Here, too, was the victory!"

-Michael Monahan. 80 80

Habit is a cable; we weave a thread of it every day, and at last we can not break it.-Horace Mann.

90 90

The highest and most lofty trees have the most reason to dread the thunder. -Charles Rollin.