down among the crags in their search for tufts of tender grass and, failing to find their way back, miserably perish on some rocky shelf, leaving their wool and bones to whiten in the summer rain and sunshine, pathetic reminder of the poor dumb life there wretchedly brought to an end. It is said by observing ones among the islanders that, when the winter storms are hardest, the huge billows rush with so great force upon these bold headlands that their spray, hurled many scores of feet into the air, is carried by the swiftly moving blasts across the island and against the window-panes of the dwellinghouses, where the evaporating water. leaves the salt deposited to give proof of its distant

source.

To him who loves the rocks, and the sea-weed, and the bits of ocean life among them, and the breaking waves with their rushing foam and tossing spray, the shore line of this outpost of the main is a continual marvel.

In the whole circuit of the coast there are scarcely two places that are similar. The minerals range from fine sand at the landing, up through wonderfully varied pebbles and gigantic boulders, to the great shapeless masses of rock forming the headlands at the north. Here the tourist conjures up all sorts of objects among the ledges and crags. Nature gives the suggestion, indeed, but the imagination of the enthusiastic onlooker gives it complete form. Staircases there are leading up from the water's edge, balconies overlooking sheer descents, and the inevitable pulpit-rock. His satanic majesty

one time visited the island, - for here the place where he sat, and there the pool where he bathed. In Gull Rock, the huge projecting ledge near the south end, there is a cave-like opening, quite extensive and very interesting, but difficult of access. This rocky room of generous entrance looks out upon the eastern sea, and is just the place of a summer morning to dream the hours away, or of a late afternoon to watch the shadows lengthen upon the silent deep.

The finest examples of sea-washed rocks are to be found at "the North

end." Huge their forms, rich their colorings, marvelous their tints changing with the moving sun! Could artist transfer them to his canvas as they really are, he would do what artist never yet has done.

There is a ragged place south of Gull Rock called "the Washerwoman." Removed a little from the shore is a ledge making, with the black rocks about, a deep and wide pool. A billow rushing in from the sea is broken upon the ledge and destroyed. All over the rock its waters flow. Whirling, tossing, foaming, they reach the basin. Still wild and restless, they hurry back and forth, chafing in their narrow confines. In all their disquietude, they take upon themselves in the bright summer sun the most marvelous colors and delicate tints. There is no white like that of their foam, and no greens like those of their ceaseless flowings and tossings. The energy and vividness of it all enchain one. It is a place to wonder and admire, and worship.

In the old days the island was well covered with woods; but now they are confined to the northern end. The trees are mostly evergreen. As one rambles through the wooded parts, he is surprised to find much of the beauty of great forests meeting him. Old wood roads and pathways abound, as on the main; and scarcely a walk but is bordered by bush and fern and carpeted by the softest and greenest of grass. The most delicate flowers grow on the barren hillsides and among the crags. It is with a thrill of delight that the appreciative tourist plucks from the most unpromising nook some sweet-scented, graceful little blossom.

The views to be obtained on this "Island of the Wild Rocks" are rich, varied, and comprehensive.

The

under him, making a subdued singing noise in the sand as they flow and ebb. A little way out rides the diminutive fishing fleet of the islanders at their moorings — thirty boats or more punts, dories, and tiny open sloops a score of feet in length; and over on the other side, close under the frowning mass of Manana, a schooner keeps rhythmic motion. with the long swell,

with, perchance, a white mackerel steamer near by, patiently awaiting the appearance of her prey. As the spectator begins to feel his enthusiasm kindling at the sight, there appear on the sunlit waters at the mouth of the harbor a number of boats returning from the fishing grounds. Lazily they move over the scarcely rippling surface, and with conscious effort make their moorings and discharge their freight. Over all are the mid-afternoon sun and the clear, pure atmosphere; and to the north and south, the long reaches of placid, shining ocean.

As one leaves the village and seeks the higher land, his eyes are blessed by scenes of greater beauty still. As he climbs, new vistas appear, rocky valley bordered by hardy vegetation sufficient to soften its severity,

- one a

and descending gradually to the sea shining silver white under an August sun; out upon the ocean, a ship almost becalmed; beyond, a large schooner hull down. As one continues his progress he reaches the most commanding outlook on the island. Here he sees what the eyes of few are privileged to rest upon. Comprehensive and grand is the view. The horizon line is broken only here and there. From the northeast to the west the Maine coast stretches in rugged beauty, the adjacent waters shimmering in the sun. Numerous islands, of varying size and aspect, fringe the shore, and at the north, looming in the hazy atmosphere, rise the beautiful blue Camden hills. Seguin lies a score of miles to the west, and Matinicus the same distance to the east. The rest is ocean; ocean with his wonderful sweep; ocean

with his variant

moods; ocean with his journeying ships. Rambling still further in his quest for the beautiful, the tourist arrives at the western verge of Light House hill just as the sun is going down, attended by his retinue of sum

huge shoulder of Manana try for bait, -partly within the golden path. The sun disappears; the brightness rises from sea and land to the upper clouds; the heavens are aflame; the sunset is in its glory. At that supreme moment the light above the watcher's head streams out white and bright, to shine while the sun sleeps, to give clear rays to needy men in place of the god of day. The dew falls faster and the chill increases, but no gloom is felt by the wayfarer as he descends the hill to the village; the uplifting influences of the island sunset fill his soul to the full. And on the morrow as, perchance, he sails out of the little harbor bound for his distant home, he finds himself repeating to himself the words of the song:

Na few years, as the history of mankind. goes, men and women will be studying the deeds of the United States as we study those of Rome and of Athens, of Egypt and of Assyria, with an equal lapse of time rolling between and with solicitude for their future as we now are solicitous for ours. They will forecast their duty and their destiny, in part, by the successes and by the failures of antiquity, among which will stand the record of the great American republic.

In the development of mankind during a period of such length, whether it be upward or downward, it is inevitable that our status will change greatly. We cannot stand still. Personal traits will change as our many race elements become blended, as new ideas affect life's motives, and as new surroundings and enlarged perspective alter the minds and the bodies of men. Even physical types change. The Cavalier and the Puritan are no longer with us. The Highlander and the Lowlander are not as they were five hundred years ago. We here include all races. Our political institutions are changing rapidly. Our successors twenty centuries hence will not think

or act with our purposes or our methods.

But our acts as a nation are free, and they are our own. It is for us, here and now, to have a share in determining the course of the current which will continue for ages to come, when the great names of our times are mere items in chronology and when only the organic acts of our mighty republic will be studied for their bearing upon the development of mankind. Shall the acts which are done just at the juncture of these two centuries be such as shall be acknowledged hereafter to have been in direct line with straightforward progress to the highest ideal of the race, or shall the student of the records of a shattered and vanished nation put his finger upon this point in our career and say: "Here began that departure from the path of national rectitude and that offence. against the law of national growth and integrity which led to its calamitous and needless downfall"? Shall the nation to-day so act as to insure its perpetual life and growth in the transformed conditions of national existence scores of centuries hence, or shall it stand in history as do Greece and Rome, as the ruins upon which have been erected still later structures?

Some people believe that there is a