the loss of the curious book-hunter aggravated! I suspect that every added year, every new reading, only increased the sum of the erasures in Old Dickerman's Bible. With my mind's eye, let me glance through its pages: here a text black with the ink of recent condemnation; there a verse long ago slashed out, the ink grown very pale, as though conscious that it had served the purpose of the sacrilegious. I look carefully to see if there be any token, any form of stet in the margin, to indicate that the reviser sometimes revised his judgments, and received back into favor a passage once condemned; but I am bound to confess that I do not find any such revisions. I cannot ascertain that his rejection of parts interfered in the least with his accepting the Scriptures as a whole. It is a mysterious paradox, but I believe that general faith persisted in his soul, though specific doubt may have left its mark upon every page of the book. Best of all, there is reason for thinking that no reference to good works was ever molested by this expurgator; surely, it would have transpired in his conduct, if any such texts as the Golden Rule or the Beatitudes had been canceled in Old Dickerman's Bible.

Since I became convinced, a long time ago, that the equator would not prove a physical barrier to the traveler who might wish to pass from one hemisphere to the other, and that the north pole was not a visible and tangible projection of the earth's axis, convertible into a flagstaff, should triumphant discovery ever arrive there, since I discarded these and such like geographical illusions, I have been chary of putting my trust in any sort of "imaginary lines." I have heard much said with regard to turning-points: travelers of undoubted veracity have shown me their charts, and I have been surprised to see how many right-angled turns they must have made in the course of their pilgrimage. Also, when they relate the

casualties and rescues which have happened upon their route, I am forced to acknowledge that mine has been singularly safe, - safe even to monotony; its direction changing by such gentle curves that the alteration was apparent only at long intervals, and then merely by some difference in the slant of the shadows across my path, or by the obvious shifting in position of some star chosen as directive of the journey..

What is the turning-point? In common acceptation, it is the event or the influence which, with no warning given, suddenly draws or drives our life in a new direction, and but for which we should still pursue the old road. Do not we lose sight of the possibility that the change would have taken place without the aid of external force? The turning-points, I would say, are in our temperament and moral habitudes. If we search narrowly the conversation, incidents, and our own thoughts of the day past, we can usually find the data of our night dreams; in the same way, looking back of what we count in our experience as a critical juncture, a great determining occurrence, we often see that desire, conviction, and purpose were steadily ripening towards the conclusion seemingly reached by us suddenly. readiness is all: a dozen supreme occasions pass without affecting our equanimity; the thirteenth comes and bears us along with it, not because it is greater than the occasions that went before, but because it is the one that our sly genius has for a long time been signaling and inviting.

Our

Yet the belief in turning-points must brace and cheer many a faint heart. This new year, may it not be the annus mirabilis which shall change immeasurably for the better ourselves and our fortunes? We somehow trust, notwithstanding we may have been inert, irresolute, and feeble in the past, that we shall reverse all this when our destiny culminates under the new influence.

Much more to the point it would be if, instead of relying upon the miracles of a Wonderful Year, we vested our faith in Wonderful Every Day: if we expect to meet angels upon our future road, it will be much to our credit, meanwhile, to take in hand our own regeneration, not leaving all to be done by angelic agency.

The good preacher who told me that his conversion was accomplished "in just fifteen seconds" impressed me as being a violent believer in the doctrine of turning-points. I cannot yet understand the system of spiritual chronometry that could determine to such nicety the time occupied by an experience of this character. I wonder not less at the faith of Musaphilus, who has been assured that only excess of culture dominance of intellect over heart - interferes with the fruition of his bardic hopes. Should Musaphilus fall in love (so says his counselor), the chances are that he will be able to prove his right to the title of poet! I wait to see if the blind miracle-worker will be able to meet triumphantly this trial test of Love's all-powerfulness.

pre

None should say that there may not be for the soul, as it is claimed there are for the body, climacteric dates: but for the soul these are not to be computed by any arithmetic jugglery, any multiplying of seven into the odd numbers; here the carefulest calculations are liable to contain error. The great changes are most secret, being slow and gentle in their operations. I pass from the groves of deciduous trees to the evergreen wood: I look again and again up through the branches, yet I cannot

tell you

"how the sacred pine-tree adds To her old leaves new myriads."

Every autumn I observe, with speculative interest, the great amount of spurious mast which the oak-tree discharges along with its natural fruitage. It seems not unlikely that, if a count could

be made, the numbers of this spurious mast would be found to exceed those of the acorns. Inside of one of these mock nuts, round in shape and of the size of a pea, a kernel not vegetable is found: this is the sleeping-chamber of a lazy white grub, suggestive type of the earthling, buried in fat content in its own little terrestrial ball. A strange servitude is this of the oak to the cynips, or gall-fly, in thus contributing of his substance to the housing and nourishment of his enemy's offspring. The mischievous sylph selects sometimes the vein of a leaf, sometimes a stem, which she stings, depositing a minute egg in the wounded tissues. As soon, at least, as the egg hatches, the gall begins to form about the larva, simulating a fruity thriftiness, remaining green through the summer, but assuming at length the russet of autumn. The innocent acorn Nature puts to bed as early as possible, that it may make a healthy, wealthy, and wise beginning on a spring morning; but the cradle that holds the gall-fly's child she carelessly rocks above ground all winter. I should suppose that more than one hunger-bitten forager, fourfooted or feathered, would resort to a larder so convenient and so well stocked with plump tidbits.

When I visit my old favorite oak in spring, I notice that the nut-galls are emulating the acorns in emancipating their imprisoned germs of life. Most of the former are already empty, their brown-papery tissues riddled like firecrackers whose use is past. In some few the grub is still enjoying a sluggard's slumber; others show a later stage of metamorphosis, the small bronze and blue-green fly, with its wings folded about it, like a queen in the tomb of the Pharaohs. Sometimes, when I open the gall, the inmate is already mobile, and flies away as soon as light and air reach it. For the moment, the incident has a symbolical significance: I fancy myself an enchanter, the reviver of

It may be that exception will be taken to the first part of the above statement on the ground of a doubt as to the existence of saints on the earth, at least in modern days. I myself am firmly convinced that they are to be found here and there, though I must say that the term "saint" is only one of convenience, and that those whom I have in mind have little in common with that oldfashioned character whose mystical piety (and unpleasant personal habits) are celebrated in ecclesiastical legend and tradition. Saints may be hard to find, but no one will be illogical enough to maintain that they do not really exist because he individually has not chanced to meet with one. The nineteenth-century saint has not the least desire to occupy the top of a pillar beside Simeon Stylites, nor is he ambitious of glorifying himself by voluntary martyrdom or other notable act of religious self-devotion. The persons I mean may be recognized by a singular unconsciousness of self, a simplicity of nature, that are a marvel and delight to the observer who has marked the rarity of these qualities in human character. Their goodness is the most interesting thing about them. They may be without distinguish ing gifts of person or intellect; they do or say nothing remarkable, are often, indeed, very little given to talk of any sort; but they are beyond all things lovable. Something of happy serenity in their countenance, of mild and equa

ble cheerfulness in their tones and manner of speech, gives us a feeling that they have always lived at the centre of things, so to speak, and that their days have revolved in heaven-appointed orbits along lines of righteousness and peace. peace. They have been "born good," as the saying goes, account for it how we may by happy fortuity of natural descent and fostering circumstance.

Granted, then, the existence of saints; that of sinners no one is disposed to deny. Are not some of the most interesting people we know a curious combination of opposing moral traits? The result of the mingling of good and evil in men is perhaps most commonly the production of a moderate sort of vir tue, of characters that neither rise very high nor sink very low in the scale of being,-people whom we are sometimes tempted to dismiss, as Mr. Lowell does in his poem of Miles Standish, as those whom "nature forms merely to fill the street with." The poet was somewhat excited, however, when he made use of that contemptuous phrase. But in the moral cross-breed the opposing instincts do not neutralize each other. The combination does not issue in a new chemical compound, though it may be that after long years one side of the double nature rises over and subjects the other. These persons are sometimes a puzzle to themselves. They are likely to start out with a fine appreciation of the more heroically generous elements they are conscious of in themselves; the knowledge of the ignoble elements comes later, as a disagreeable surprise, and their presence as factors of the moral constitution are not admitted till after prolonged skepticism with regard to them. In the end the hero-sinner may come to an honest understanding of himself, much more thorough than any outside observer is likely to arrive at. For it goes without saying that this complex nature will reveal himself under different aspects to different friends,

through a more or less conscious adaptation of himself to the moods of thought and feeling encountered in others. The contradictoriness of nature in such a man or woman may be shown in small things or in great. He will be, perhaps, indolent and at the same time capable of enthusiastic effort; careless, yet an admirer of order and harmony; tender and warm of heart, yet quickly resentful and intolerant. The conflict of internal forces sometimes arises between inborn qualities which are not only radically opposed, but of equal strength; and sometimes it comes from the fact that the will power is disproportioned to the powers of imagination, and from emotion being more acute and strong than steadily persistent. What ideals of pure and generous action a person of this make is able to conceive, and how genuine are the desire and the endeavor to attain them! That the noble passion truly dwells with him is proved by the fact that at times he does indeed rise above the ordinary level of virtuous human action to the height of his own moral imagination. And yet how seldom is achieved this actualization of the

ideal! He would be noble, not seem so merely; he loves truth and does not ask for undeserved praise, and still he finds it hard to be estimated only by his outward acts, when conscious that they represent him but inadequately. What other means has the world of judging him? Such a man may even feel and feel justly-that he could more readily and safely undertake to die, once for all, for his friend or for his race than he could engage never to fail toward his fellows in patience and tenderness through the twenty or thirty years of his life to come. The latter is what he will be called to do, he is well aware; yet foreseeing his own failure, has he not the right to derive some consolation from the fact that he has the will, if not the opportunity, for the single self-sacrificing deed? Others may well doubt his capacity for it who have never known such strenuous impulse in themselves, but who, on the other hand, are found equal to the smaller demands of life which he so frequently fails to meet. Nevertheless, he may know himself better than he is known of them.

Travel and Exploration. American Explorations in the Ice Zones, prepared chiefly from official sources by Professor J. E. Nourse, U. S. N. (Lothrop.) This volume is a compilation from the narratives of the various explorers from De Haven to De Long, and gives in a convenient form a survey of American arctic and antarctic researches. Professor Nourse has introduced his volume well by a succinct statement of the conditions of arctic voyaging, and by a brief summary of the attempts at penetrating the polar seas, which led finally to the American effort. A convenient bibliography adds to the value of the book. The illustrations are of varying degrees of interest, being for the most part compiled like the narrative. A map shows conveniently the tracks of different voyagers. Travels in Mexico and Life among the Mexicans, by Frederick A. Ober (Estes

Camp

& Lauriat), is divided into three parts: I. Yucatan; II. Central and Southern Mexico; III. The Border States. Mr. Ober is an enthusiastic traveler, who writes of what he has seen in more than one journey, and with a hearty interest in everything he sees. The book will prove of special value to those who are watching the progress of the new commercial invasion of Mexico. ing among Cannibals, by Alfred St. Johnston (Macmillan), is a lively account of travels in the South Pacific. The writer has the air of truthfulness, but he is not a born narrator, and there is a sameness about his successive adventures and the scenes which he witnesses. He has not the art and glow of Melville. The War in Tong-King, by Lieutenant Sidney A. Staunton, U. S. N. (Cupples, Upham & Co.), is a useful pamphlet of fortyfive pages, explaining why the French are in

Tong-King, and what they are doing there. The only objection to it is that if one once reads it he cannot escape the column in his daily newspaper which he now skips.

History. Carl Ploetz's Epitome of Ancient, Medieval, and Modern History has been translated and enlarged by William H. Tillinghast. (Houghton, Mittlin & Co.) It is a volume of facts, and its great value is in the grouping and arrangement of these facts. A very full index renders the book serviceable as one of reference, but its special service will be to teachers and students who wish to pursue an independent course of historical study, and desire a clue through the mazes of history. The clearness of the plan and the apparent accuracy of detail make the book one of exceptional value. · The Campaigns of the Rebellion, by Albert Todd, First Lieutenant First United States Artillery (Printing Department, State Agricultural College, Manhattan, Kansas), is a little compend which gives an account of the principal operations of the principal armies. Lieutenant Todd has carefully avoided any statement of the political issues involved in the war, and has made a very useful and clear narrative of military operations. He takes the sensible ground that, whatever may be the value or lack of value to foreign soldiers in these operations, their history is of great importance to every American, since they constitute the precedents for any possible future contest.

Poetry and the Drama. Dolores, and other Poems, by Albert F. Kercheval. (A. L. Bancroft & Co., San Francisco.) Mr. Kercheval has offered an octavo volume of more than five hundred pages, which includes also twoscore poems by his daughter. So much poetic flow supposes a pretty good head on, and Mr. Kercheval plays his hose upon a wide range of subjects. We find his humorous poems most entertaining, but we doubt if Mr. Blaine thoroughly enjoyed the burst with which he was greeted when he voted on the Chinese Restriction Bill. "Pride of our boast," exclaims Mr. Kercheval,

"Lo! at thy sacred feet, weak, pigmy things,
We bow to thee."

-Injuresoul, a Satire for Science, by A. J. H. Dugaune (American Book-Print Co., New York), is aimed, as the reader has already guessed, at Colonel R. J. Ingersoll. The gun is fired with so much racket, and such a cloud of smoke is raised, that it is difficult to say whether or not the object is hit. The Retrospect, a poem in four cantos, by John Ap Thomas Jones. (Lippincott.) The author has thrown into verse form the memories of a grandam, which embrace recollections of his

toric times, though they are somewhat vague in outline. The poetry suppresses the history. — Herod, a Historical Tragedy in five acts, by Henry Iliowizi. (Minneapolis.) The author is a rabbi, and has turned the history of Herod into a tragedy, in which the tragic element is made emphatic by an immense amount of verbal gesticulation. The Rhyme of the Lady of the Rock, and how it grew, by Emily Pfeiffer (Kegan Paul, Trench & Co., London), is an odd essay, inasmuch as it professes to give the circumstances and material out of which the author produced a poem. The comment, introductory and intercalary, is in prose; the poem is in verse. One has the author, her surroundings, her poem, her audience, all in one book, and this piece of ingenuity is not without much pleasant writing and description of Highland life. -The Macmillans have signalized their succession to the post of Tennyson's publisher by issuing an edition of the Laureate's poetical works in one handsome volume. This, however, does not include his last two dramatic poems, The Cup and The Falcon, which are printed in a separate volume, and printed for the first time, we believe. The Cup was produced at the Lyceum Theatre, under the management of Mr. Henry Irving, in 1881, and The Falcon was brought out at the St. James's Theatre in 1879, with Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in the initial roles. Neither play achieved great success on the stage, though The Cup was admirably mounted and acted, and is not without fine dramatic qualities.

Education and Text Books. Schools and Studies is a collection of essays and addresses, by B. A. Hinsdale. (Osgood.) Mr. Hinsdale is a man of force, who is actively engaged in educational work, and who has the American schoolmaster's genuine belief that no great subject comes amiss in the discussion of education. The Essentials of Latin Grammar, by F. A. Blackburn (Ginn, Heath & Co.), is an attempt to "make a book small enough to be mastered by a beginner, and to arrange the principles of grammar contained in it as systematically as possible." By a simple arrangement the author has carried along his pages in large print the minimum amount to be memorized, and has used the space below the line for notes, illustrations, and references. An appendix of exercises is given. Wentworth and Hill's Examination Manuals (Ginn, Heath & Co. is the title of two volumes, giving examples worked out and actual examination papers in arithmetic and algebra. -The Philosophy of Education, or the Principles and Practice of Teaching, by T. Tate, is an English work, introduced to Americans by Col. F. W. Parker. (Bardeen, Syracuse, N. Y.) Besides much philosophy there are many practical sugges tions, which will, perhaps, render the first service any teacher who takes up the book. - History of the United States in Rhyme, by Robert C. Adams (Lothrop), affords an opportunity of learning a good many dates at the risk of ruining a child's ear for rhythm and rhyme. Historical Recreations, by E. C. Lawrence (Bardeen, Syracuse, N. Y., is the title of a little book apparently intended for aid to a teacher in giving pupils a little knowl

to