told. God knows it all, and the earthly remembrance will be unfading.

But the passing of a life so gentle, so strong, so loving, so victorious to the end, brings us into such close relationship with the real things as to make us almost doubt at times the fact of separation.

For in the memory of virtue is immortality, because it is recognized both before God and before men.

When it is present, men imitate it; and they long after it when it is departed. And throughout all time it marcheth, crowned in triumph, victorious in the strife for the prizes that are undefiled.

GEORGE HERBERT HOSMER.

HIS DWELLING PLACE.

Where dost thou dwell, O thou Almighty One?
Art thou enthroned in some far distant sphere,
From whence in lonely majesty thou rul'st
This earth, thy work, and viewest from afar
The wrecks and ruins of a fallen race?
Or dost thou in nearer realms abide?
Where must I go to seek thee out?

I

gaze into the infinite; I answer, wait; I bend my listening ear. Oh, speak,

That I may find thee, and, finding, know.
I listened, and upon my ear there fell

The voice of the Eternal. "O son of man," it said,

May I abide in thee and thou in me,
That we may be as one, as was thy gentle Son
Of Nazareth of old,-my brother man.
O glorious knowledge, O truth, so sweet and
deep!

God's in his world, and all is well:
His dwelling-place is here, in it I live;
And in that faith serene I rest content.
WILLIAM D. LITTLE.

Washington, D.C.

WOODROW WILSON'S "WASHINGTON." *

As one lays down this new life of Washington, it is with a sense of satisfaction which few biographies of so beloved a hero are likely to give. This feeling is not induced by any attempt on the part of the writer to cover up defects in his subject or to clothe him with that glamour which inevitably gathers about a great name. Indeed, you get just the opposite impression; and the feeling that the charming story is genuine is no small part of your satisfaction. Here, you feel, is "the true George Washington"; and you are all the more ready to accept the picture because the author has not taken the trouble to vouch for its truth.

In the first place, Prof. Wilson has dealt with his subject in the large way which it

not go;

For I am with thee. In tranquil calm,

In thund'rous storm, in ocean's mighty swell,
In every budding flower and living thing,
Thou seest me: of this world I am the life.
Behind, before, I compass thee about:
Nearer am I to thee than life itself,
Closer than the air you breathe.
From me thou canst not flee. If thou
The wings of dawn shouldst take, and fly
To earth's remotest bounds, lo, I am there.
If thou the darkest depths of hell shouldst sound,
Still am I there. From me thou cam'st,
To me thou shalt return: thou art my son.
A Father's voice it is that speaks to thee:
Open thy heart to me, and thou shalt see."
And then across my soul there swept the sense
Of kinship to the Infinite. My spirit soared
To meet the eternal Spirit, and on my heart
There fell a peace beyond compare; for
If God is in his world, all must be well.
The end of all, for all, then, must be good;

And on a Father we can lean in childlike trust.
O Father, Infinite, Eternal, True,

is a true type of the Virginia gentleman. He does not "wear his heart upon his sleeve," but bears himself with the dignity of one born to command. To dwell upon the trifling details of such a life would seem to every sensitive reader an intrusion into a privacy to which he has neither right nor welcome. In these pages you meet Washington as you might have met him in life, learning his character in that manly fashion which would become another gentleman, and not by the prying method of a valet. This dignity of treatment lends a charm to the book, which comes from high companionship. The reader is never playing the mean part of the spy, but is everywhere the invited guest. This method by no means hides Washington from us, although it may not tell us all that some of his personal attendants could reveal.

*GEORGE WASHINGTON. By Woodrow Wilson. New York: Harper Brothers.

Details, however, are not lacking; but they are never dwelt upon for themselves. They are there to reveal the larger truth and the larger character behind them. This method is also noticeable in the portraits which the author gives of the other great men with whom Washington's life is so closely linked. The Cavalier life of the "Old Dominion" in Washington's day is very happily portrayed; and the conspicuous part which Virginians took in the events which led up to the Declaration of Independence makes us realize that in those trying years the work of the Puritan was not only supplemented by the Cavalier, but the Cavalier often took the initiative.

The oft-repeated story of Washington's work as a general is told with such clearness and freshness that one almost forgets he has read it before. The closing scene in that great chapter of his life furnishes, as it should do, an opportunity to let us see into the heart of the man. Such an opportunity the true biographer never misses; and how well Mr. Wilson has used it may be seen from the following paragraph :—

"But no one deemed him hard or stern, or so much as a thought more or less than human, when at last the British had withdrawn from New York, and he stood amidst his officers in Fraunce's Tavern to say goodby. He could hardly speak for emotion: he could only lift his glass, and say: 'With a heart full of love and gratitude I now take my leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable. . . . I cannot come to each of you and take my leave,' he said, 'but shall be obliged if you will come and take me by the hand.' When Gen. Knox, who stood nearest, approached him, he drew him to him with a sudden impulse, and kissed him; and not a soldier among them all went away without an embrace from this man who was deemed cold and distant. After the parting they followed him in silence to Whitehall Ferry, and saw him take boat for his journey."

The writer's instinct for putting the emphasis in the right place comes out finely in the chapter "First in Peace." The supreme business in that chapter is the making of the Constitution; and Washington's part in that, we are made to feel, is hardly

In

less important than his part in the war. a day when compromises are in order it is he who utters the brave word which all perIceive to be the wise word as well. "Let us," he said, "raise a standard to which the wise and honest can repair. The event is in the hand of God." It is not merely that this sentence is quoted, but that the picture which the chapter leaves with you is that of the "self-collected man" uttering it at a time when his word was the greatest single influence in shaping the destinies of the new nation.

But the great trial came at the last when Washington as President had to bear the criticisms of a people he had so long and so nobly served. The book is a preparation for Mr. Wilson's description of the manner in which that trial was borne.

"Washington's spirit was of the majestic sort that keeps a great and hopeful confidence that the right view will prevail; that the 'standard to which the wise and honest will repair' is also the standard to which the whole people will rally at last if it be held long and steadily enough on high to be seen of all."

The charming style, the judicious selec tion of facts, and, above all, the insight which enables the writer to set forth these facts in their proper perspective, so that the true picture of the man appears, all combine to make every lover of Washington grateful for such a biography.

LEON A. HARVEY.

JEAN INGELOW'S POETRY.

The departure of Jean Ingelow deprives the roll of English poets of one of its finest and most valued names. A generation ago the acclaim was general that in her person the second eminent woman poet of Great Britain had appeared, Mrs. Browning being the first. There was for a time, since Adelaide Anne Procter was yet living and writing, a third place given Miss Ingelow; but this has long since passed, and it is now well recognized that she has the second rank, above Christina Rossetti as well as Miss Procter. Her gift was the extraordinary one of the singer. There are many good and not a few great poets to the absolute singer; and, when such a one appears,

the blessing is recognized with a wide and generous accordance. What a number of excellent writers of verse would we not dispense with rather than lose a poem of Robert Burns's! What a quantity of clever versification would we not fling away like waste paper for one such song of "Where Sparrows Build," or "Coo, Dove," or "The Long White Seam"! There is nothing more precious in poetry than the song; and, above all else, Jean Ingelow was a writer of songs, a lyrist pure and simple. Once started in a theme for a song, she sang like a bird, as her nature prompted; and thereby she seized the ears of all English-speaking people.

Being a song-writer, she was also a balladwriter, and ought to have written many ballads instead of so few. The magical "High Tide" is half a ballad, half a musical composition; for never was a poem so purely poetical wrought before with so perfect an adaptation to the needs of the reciter. Though one may have heard this poem rendered by the most rigidly schooled of elocutionists, it may be recited by another reader with such rich contralto melody as will make it a new thing, and as it was before reciters came in to injure the true value of poetry. The verse of Jean Inge

low, it is to be said, is provocative of recitation and of music.

We cannot go far in judging our modern poets of America or England without referring to the authoritative books of Edmund Clarence Stedman, the chief critic America has produced. Mr. Stedman's words, in the "Victorian Poets," are as follows:

"As the voice of Mrs. Browning grew silent, the songs of Miss Ingelow began, and had instant and merited popularity. They sprung up suddenly and tunefully as skylarks from the daisy-spangled, hawthornbordered meadows of old England, with a blitheness long unknown, and in their idyllic underflights moved with the tenderest currents of human life. Miss Ingelow may be termed an idyllic lyrist, her lyrical pieces having always much idyllic beauty."

This is the correct judgment as to the place Jean Ingelow holds as a writer of verse. But more things may well be said. she had a strong conception of character and an exceptional fancy, and by one of these qualities she was constantly led into the practice of preaching and by the other into poetic flights, short but intense, such as interlude her poems from first to last.Springfield (Mass.) Republican.

National Conference.

THE National Conference of our churches has been called to meet this year at Saratoga, N.Y., September 20 to 23. The announcement of programme, fares, hotel rates, etc., will be found in our "News" department. The Conference will be opened on the Monday evening by Rev. Reed Stuart of Detroit, who will preach the sermon, and closed on the following Thursday evening by Rev. Minot J. Savage, who will speak on "The Cost of our Freedom, and our Duty to maintain it."

Between these two events a rich field of promise is prepared, from which every church should draw its share of inspiration by sending its minister and two lay delegates.

tions, and spare the church. Yet, when one has long been attached to some particular church, it is hard to write a will with no mention of the beloved sanctuary, the scene of so many tender and most vital associations. Indeed, most people, we imagine, would really like to leave some remembrance to their church.

We suggest that there is always need of small endowments for special purposes within the regular church finances, and for which special funds would work the utmost good without affecting the ordinary burdensome necessity of providing for regular expenses, the thing which donors so dread to disturb. Such funds we may suggest as:

1. Vesper service fund.
2. Pulpit supply fund.

3. Neighborhood missionary fund.
4. Ministers' library fund.
5. Choir fund.

6. Sunday-school fund and many others. In every one of these ways a church can increase and sustain its usefulness where it has special endowment set apart for such work.

THE Harvard Divinity School Ministerial is steadily changing its organiTraining. zation, so that, instead of being a training school for the Unitarian ministry, it is becoming a school for the purely scientific study of religion.

This change is intentional; and, while it provokes a good deal of discussion, there is much to be said for the desirability of having such an undenominational School of The ology at Harvard.

We print Dean Everett's article on another page, describing "The Divinity School as it is" and supporting the change in method. While, however, Dr. Everett shows how excellent a thing it will be to have what the Divinity School now aims to supply, he really does not touch the question of whether or not it will be a loss to our own cause.

The Unitarian faith stands upon fundamental truth. It has its system, method, and doctrine. It is a definite and a new revelation, a gospel, and a guide for human life. It needs prophets saturated with its principles, filled with its life, grounded in its history, alive with its faith, devoted and pledged to its future. It is difficult to

imagine any such enthusiasm originating in a seminary where "Unitarian students are in the minority, while half its regular teachers and nearly all its assistant teachers are connected with orthodox churches."

We repeat that the ideal aimed at, that of a school for the study of theology in connection with the university, is an admirable one; but there may be a question as to whether our Unitarian School, founded by Unitarians and hitherto supported by them, should be converted to that end. If, as seems to be the case, it is already so decided, then it may be advisable to consider in what way we can create a new centre of inspiration, enthusiasm, and strength for our cause within touch of the university; for it is hardly to be supposed that we are to surrender that long-established privilege.

Meadville is rapidly advancing, and becoming a strong arm of supply for our churches; but all its work is needed, not as a substitute for, but as an addition to the influence that ought to be exercised for the advancement of Unitarianism at Harvard.

AT the Hampton InPurpose and Pluck. stitute's recent conference of colored people a very hopeful tone inspired all the addresses. The chief thing said and reiterated was that the progress of the race depends not upon external benefits or assistance, but upon individual determination, purpose, and pluck. Rev. Francis J. Grimke, a pastor in Washington city, made a thrilling speech, in which he sounded the true note of a successful career for white as well as for negro. Every youth of every race may well weigh these words:

The one indispensable condition to success for the negro is personal fitness, -the ability to do well what is to be done. White men cannot help us. We have got to work out our own destiny. The power that is to clear the path of the negro in this country lies within the negro himself,—in his own intelligence and pluck, fidelity and conscientiousness, his high resolve to make himself worthy and to put his best into whatever he does. If he exercises that power, he will succeed. If he does not, he will fail and ought to fail.