Valparaiso University - Beacon / Record Yearbook (Valparaiso, IN)

Text from Pages 1 - 54 of the 1908 volume:

Va AamEs VALPARAISO UNIVERS TY ARCHIVES VALPARAISO UNIVERSETY 61mm gag gxmziglzg Enf QIIazgimT 0116135, nf ?Ualpamign Cilainmzitg in I guditurinm mundag gunning, E11179 27th, 1908 gdtlmmz tn 0115155 Trof. TN. 32. Carver $mxdag, 34ng 26th, 2:30 p. m. 1908 PRES. H. B. BROWN Emmi mnnummium 512132 mrenning, ZRBgalimxe gin: nymmidnm altiuzi. waxw- Wry G. T eigan ; a Viee-President, Albert F. Marsh Secretary, Jessie Couell' Lamb Toast respondent, Walter A. Zaugg V' ', $71 4 ':A ?A V' 5V! '1 L4 BA '5 4 5.0 ?Gnga mnttu: Fumam 2i hat: nltm meminiiixz iunahit 011mg QHimzrg. Treasurer, Nancy C. Neighbors . Oratar, Raymond G; Bressler Historian, Thomas B. Matney Editor of Annual, Martin J . Teigan nisi Dominus frustm HENRY G. TEIGAN ex aequo et bono J ESSIE COVELL PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS HENRY Gr. TEIGAN. ELLOW-CLASSICS, Ladies and Gentlemen: There are certain days L that standpre-eminent in the lives of individuals, and certain days !L that stand pre-eminent in the history of nations. They mark the turning-point for better or worse in the life of the individual or a ' nation.- While the approach of 110 near day may be looked upon , pg the destinyof nations,yetwe do believe that it shall be a land- lives of a score of individuals. These individuals constitute the gem of Valparaiso University of 1908. .Vave met here this evening to review the past, enjoy the present, and ' the future. ' future outlook is bright indeed, and we look forward with great ;0 the work before us. This is a delightful age in which to live cam purpose to make it still more delightful. The present has many over the past; and the chief reason for this lies in the fact that ad man is developed. 'If we look back at ancient Sparta, we find 13km Lene-sided, the physical man alone being developed. At Athens :was developed, but the moral side of man was largely ignored. gh priding herself on having duplicated both these phases of Greek 1a, was even more degenerate than the former cities in respect to Thus we are truly fortunate to live in an agethat affords like oppor- Qr developing the three essentials of the perfect man. Men and i needed to help revolutionize the systems that have preyed upon rationality crept into him. They are needed to help man divorce ,Lm superstition and ignorance and to help him investigate, think erstand. For this work of helping humanity different talents have , 11 us. Paul says: itHe gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; ,g, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachersfl It was necessary in of Paul for the Almightylto do this, and we find it just as necessary A man who wins laurels as well as souls while doing evangelistic work takes a good pastor. But we are all the more thankful for that fact; rwise there would be too much waste energy in making no division , LAnother feature of todayls possibilities is that in advancing new all can work unhampered by so-ealled superiors of church and state. 6 Whatever field a man may choose to work in, he is certain to find himself at liberty to advance his views to the utmost. Even the rough and corrupted field of politics grants opportunity for doing missionary work; and it is a fact worthy of gratitude that in this instance, at least, it is not necessary to go to a foreign land to preach the gospel of justice and righteousness, with a few additional words on judgment to come. Our class throughout the year has been of a very desirable size. We have enjoyed the society that it has alloted us. In the class room it has afforded Dean Carver opportunity to talk to us in a way that he could not have done if our class had been larger. Should we have missed these talks, we feel that we should be seriously wanting in our education. He addressed us as a father would his children, and often he impressed us with the thought that unless through our work here at Valparaiso our lives were improved morally as well as mentally, our studying would be in vain. How true this is can be seen from the lives of men who go out of college with marks of merit, but having no character, make a failure of life. Another fine feature of the Classic Class is the spirit of good-will that has at all times prevailed. For instance, when some have prided themselves on an ancient ancestry of frogs, toads, turtles and similar specimens of beauty, and when others have, with equal pride, declined such compliments, both sides have laughingly agreed to disagree and until next time say no more about it. This year marks the advancement of Valparaiso University from second to first place among American universities. Old Harvard, with all her ancient prestige, has not been able to keep pace with her younger sister of the Middle West. Professors Brown and Kinsey have demonstrated to the world that endowment is not essential to the success of a university. Other schools are springing up over the land that are taking as a model the entire school system established by these venerable men. It, no doubt, marks the passing of the old-tiIne system and the inauguration of a system that can stand on its own merits and can survive the onslaught of time without the aid of the Carnegies and Roekefellers. Therefore, we, as a class, feel justly' proud of our Alma Mater and shall ever Vie with each other in doing her honor. CLASS HISTORY VALPO CLASSICS OF 1908. THOMAS B. MATNEY. HE history of the world is only the story of a few great men, told E by relating the causes, the achieving, and the results of these men7s actions. Alexander and Napoleon, Isaiah and Confucius, Copernicus and Newton, Humbolt and Darwin represent their phase of greatness. A successful historian must have the power of reasoning from cause to effect, of predicting the future by the study of past and past-perfeet events and of knowing tithe signs of the timesfl It is aimed in this short produc- tion'to give lightning-flash Views of the great events of the past yearea year in which we all are most interested, a year of which we all are justly proud. Our little prophet, the youngest and most beautiful daughter of the greatest muse, will infallibly expose the future decreed by the irrevocable Fates. I leave it to you, unpersuaded and unaided, to View the present, for who is so insensible to his environment, and, after beholding this great class, who is so dense that he can not read Hthe signs of the timesli? Indeed, if the aim in writing this be only partially accomplished, it would easily pass, simply by a change of title page, for itA Recent History of Valparaiso UniversityW Some one may ask: iiIs is possible to write a class history without telling of Tartar-like class rushes and class iscrapsiw Any intelligent person knows that history is not all battles, that the greatest strides towards civilization are made in times of peace when all work in harmony and sympathy not ' distracted by Mars, reveille and wars alarms. The highest developed mind can dream of a time when the classes will fight no more; it can even think of a very- select class at present above physical strife. Then, it gives pleasure that nothing is recorded of which we should ever be ashamed, but that we can justly be held up as an ideal study for aesthetic and ethical Sociology. True and impartial history should represent the follies as well as the Victories and great accomplishments of its characters. It would seem too biased to go into details in this present work, for the unsullied Virtues, if enumerated, would overwhelm the listener, and the follies would appear as if seen from the reversed end of a telescope. Avoiding even the appearance of esto quad esse videris THOMAS B. MATNEY amicus usque ad aras ALBERT F'. MARSH 9 it shall not be said that this class possessed extraordinary Virtues u so rareythat to be a janitor in the class was an honor, virtues so us serve as a model of decorum and inspiration to right action for every 011 the Hill. It would be impossible for anyone except a Macaulay ary value, in so short a space, to such great Virtues. different tribes and clans that inhabit this Hill should write a gf themselves, and if the compilation be criticized by a highly civilized e of passing righteous judgment, the collection would recapitulate iepment- of history from earliest times to the present. es and barbarians leave no written account of themselves, their being kept alive only by legend and crude relics. Those tribes that he road to civilization sometimes write an account of their great or defeats, but these are little better than mere rhapsodies 0r laments Wandering harpers. Still later we find the elements of true history 11:1,: yet. these writers despise simply criticism and plain truth, pre- . ion and eloquence Then we reach the artistic and imaginative Herodotus and Xenophon who depend largely upon tradition and for their material The historical writers of a medium civilization enced by race, religion, and caste. They are careful of their material, view it through the distorting lens of prejudice, partly on account 11 biased minds and often to cater to the demands of their readers. historian of uthe highest elassit cares little for rhetorical flourish, rareful 0f the truth as a scientist. , we mourn the loss to true history because certain ones wander through our territory, remaining only a term or two, not staying ,gh to form any class affiliations and leaving only conflicting accounts 1szes among the lower resident tribes? They do not even raise a v earth to commemorate their departure. I ever heard of the Commercials writing a class history, or even a for their iibig chiefm! Yet we must recognize them as a resident specimen be caught and examined, and asked what he is here for degree he will get when graduated he will invariably answer, NWe moi to Tgit a A. B. degreeYy What do you think of that! Wouldnlt the breath from a cyclone! Well, it is at least commendable for mitate something noble and it may serve to get him ttfarther away P and consequently closer to the ideal. 7, Ph'armies are a harmless tribe,regard1ess of their horrid emblems 3E their life on the Hill is concerned; but woe unto them upon whom their hrst experiments of pills and compounds. The Medics have . ad gseeking whom they may devour. would not look seornfully down upon the steps that have elevated us 10 to our noble, exalted positions, yet we can scarcely realize that we were ever Scientifies. Last September Grandpa could be seen wandering aimlessly about the streets, standing on the corners and repeating Isaiahis despairing wail, ttThe ass knoweth his stall, and the ox his masters crib; but Scientifies do not know, my people do not considerfi At last, he ttgathered them under his wing,,7 from which none have dared look out even to chirp tiSeientifch Regardless of all precedent, honor, and respect, the Classics were not allowed to witness the iinal election of Scientific officers. This might have aroused a little class spirit, and as the unfamiliar sound of an old class-yell almost caused a stampede of fear, the Classics retired from the vicinity. It was . reported that during the election half the class went to sleep, as it was about as dry as one of their lectures on itEnglish HistoryW The Seientifies generally write a class history, so that is a slight evidence of their progress. The Law class is deserving of more respect than is generally conceded to it. Their best members often make strong additions to our class. Then, too, they always send a large delegation to our classes in the Mental Sciences. The Professional course is often taken as a side issue of the Classic, therefore it can be recommended. Each of these classes sometimes write a history. Should the Classics be compared with the other races that inhabit the Hill? Would not Grandpa, even, have to admit that he spends a hard years work on one hundred and fifty to prepare twenty of the best to enter the Classic class? Does not every class on the Hill respect or imitate the Classics? Although we have heard the praises of this university heralded by Visitors and lauded in chapel till we are sick of it, yet we shall ever be glad that the best year of our lives was spent here. The school is not limited by sect or creed, the professors are not trammeled by the criticism of narrow-minded conservatives who have not the least conception or comprehension of what they are denouncing. Yet these denunciations cause not the least disturbing ripple upon this placid stream of inquiry and thought that drifts each student abreast the problems of the times. We are glad to be a part of a system that has done much to perfect the idea of the eo-educational institution. It is really deplorable that in this country of a boasted civilization there are a few colleges in which the girls are separated, guarded, and distrusted like the Victims of a Turkish harem. Trust teaches fidelity. Nature plans that one sex shall aid and be the comple- ment of the other, and instinct rebels against unnatural barriers. Are these girls best prepared for free life when graduated? Why is France a nation of immorality? How many barriers Man has made to separate Godts creatures into castes, sects, and classes when none, often, logically exist! Although some classes in this university may think that because they can weigh a liter of hydrogen or make red precipitates, they are sure of almost 11 '; our class has learned the philosophy of true trust. The greatest nattlre is trust. Birds build their nests not knowing what the shall bring, peasants sow their seed expecting a harvest, and states- 6, a nation hoping for the development of their ideas. We trust our 8 trust society, and sometimes we must trust even the generally i formulae of science. Yet this trust is not the blind belief that has i' ity in chains for so long. We believe no man because of his we'believe no teaching without reasons, this is certainly not our ts. HMox nemo temptavit, sanctiusque ac reverentius Visum de mun credere quam seireW elass has had many a spirited election, yet these were always free hing savoring 0f dishonor, each issue propitiously pointing out the for the right place. Beautiful and appropriate class emblems have all year. We were contemplating wearing class hats, but that 't With a yellow patch .011 itXi worn by the Pharmies, disgusted us ' With the hat proposition. We are sure that yellow and maroon is . artistic combination of colors conceived of by any class in modern' id Our beautiful pennants will occupy a prominent place in more enty cultured homes for years to come. savage 0r barbaric races must struggle tenaciously to maintain an y, while the civilized and cultured nations have time for leisure enjoyment. The Classics are envied for their social distinction , ent ease with which they surmount their difliculties. Indeed we do e to- inhale sulphurated hydrogen, we have no hard Roe to hoe, may tilqok in the bookii and tthold handsii as often as we please. eompelled to make no long outlines of Tennyson s poetical works, expressions of slang and. Hwhat notfi yet N111 Memoriam7, is repro- arting inspiration. We fear n0 threatening Cloud that sends forth living electricity. Weems can use no itosmatic pressurey, on us us memorize his notes of the previous day, and the gevolution trainii ,A 6. us far beyond the station of MManties DarlingY, We are inex- i glad that we have nothing to do with theorems, eosines, and A2. real, practical ttstar-gazing? and are often told that we shall pass :nd eighty. During recitation we are lulled to sleep by the incessant tithe .typewriteris pianos just across the hall, and are brought back mundane speart, by someone behind pulling our hair and making us that Hthis world is not ParadiseW Roessler, alone, makes us ttgrown ep up with the band-wagonf and iicombs our hair every day till maps each member of this class should be mentioned individually, but a such a bond of sympathy between each one and class affiliation so well sub hoe signo vinces J. EVERETTE CALDWELL dum vivimus, vivamus HERBERT A. BROWN 13 developed, that all ambitious individuality is sacrificed before the altar of elass-interest. . Henry Teigan acquired the highest ttpost-Offieeil the Classics can bestow, as he is our last president. He very early distinguished himself for his wide literary educatien, eloquent speaking, and admiration for Bryan. We earn- estly hoped to make an evolutionist of him, but evidently that tican7t be didf, Mr. Marsh is our last Viee-president, and shows himself to be a master of parliamentary procedure by so successfully conducting our Classic, coun- ciling senate. He is certainly worthy of the friendship and respect of every Classic. Miss Covell more than credibly fills the oflice 0f secretary. She served on several important committees, and her opinion carried the class in many a spirited argument. Her true worth may easily be known since her name is lirst 0n the professors roll-book. Miss Neighbors is the financier 0f the class, and our last treasurer. She very seldom broke the order of Latin translating, and this is enough to say for the greatest Classic, and a sure evidence of class-loyalty. Dixie sent a delegate of whom she need not be ashamed. Mr. Bressler was chosen, unanimously, as class orator. It became well known to everyone that he always succeeds in everything he undertakes, show- ing marked ability in music, athletics and general culture. This is the logical place to mention Miss Leech, our class prophet. She was regarded as the Ruby 0f the class, and demonstrated her ability to over- come great mental problems by giving an interesting discussion of a weighty question in metaphysics and logic. When a great throng is to be addressed on a momentous occasion and when the name and honor of the Classics, and consequently 0f the university, are at stake, all eyes turn to Mr. Zaugg. He is our toast-respondent, than whom there will be no greater at the commencement banquet. A recognized leader in the class, he is a student of great and diverse abilitieswa regular John D. Providence tKyJ sent us a great poet from the South to write a class poem. Everyone could judge his mental ability from first sight, and his fam- ous speech on ttSelf,7 certified our judgments. For a while after he had his head shaved, his appearance was anything but poetic, and his ancestry of a million years could be Visualized. N0, Elliott, We are not speaking of Adam. Our class editor, Martin Teigan, is a recognized political leader, and his wise, honorable behavior kept things from getting ttrotten in Denmark,,, even making politics pure. He also served as our second viee-president. The other delegate from the extreme south was chosen as 0111 third 14 president. Mr. Caldwell could be relied upon as authority on almost every doubtful point in recitation. It was really wonderful how modern and living the phraseology of Latin sounded when falling from his lips, and his oratory often ttwerged on the poeticalfl Mr. Coburn was professor of parliamentary law, but greater than this, he was our second president. When the class was first organized the need of having one of our very strongest men as president, was apparent. H. A. Brown was the Washington of the class, and much of our success is due to his regime. The modesty and consideration of H. K. Brown calls forth the admiration of the class even more than if his name could have been mentioned much earlier in this work, where the class would willingly have placed it. His logical, concise expression of thought in class always showed the relation between the metaphysical and the practical. Mr. Moody is our strong champion of the Prohibition cause. Throughout all the year he conducted himself so, and displayed such marked characteris- tics that the standard of that name is maintained high in the Class. Mr. Oareis nominating speeches should be compiled as masterpieces of Classic eloquence. He was and ever will be a loyal Classic in every sense of the word. The German department was really strengthened this year by acquiring Mr. MacLaren as assistant professor. His record may be taken as an example of what young men may do. Mr. Kanzt is the first Classic to distinguish himself by writing a successful and very useful tiManual. He performed all duties heaped upon him with true credit. Natural philosophy has an able exponent and the university a talented professor in the person of Mr. Wedeking. Although we are deeply grieved to lose Mr. Baker, Mr. Pennington and Mr. Whisenhunt, after they had established such near class associations; yet we were glad to welcome Mr. Sisson, who realized how much better it would be to graduate with this class than any other. What can I say worthy of the greatest of the Classiesea modern Cato? His modesty would have us say little, our love would say much. Our actions may not have seemed appreciative, yet our lives will live out the sweetness and nobleness of his personal influence. In years to come, when memories of him crowd others out, we shall exclaim, ;1 would that I could utter the thoughts that arise in meW As Orlando for his Love, so shall we, on our inner breasts, pin memoryts tablets expressive of admiration and reverence, a sure 15 inspiration to high ideals, and our own thoughts shall be the only Rosalind. In writing the history of this class there is much that should have been said and more that could. For Valpo scenes, classmates, college days, room 6 and Prof. Carvereall collectivelyehow often shall we think, Desiderium tiu numquam me relinquit. eeForsan et haec ohm meminisse iuvabitW ELLIOTT J AMES aptat se pugnae palma non sine pulvere PAUL MOODY 17 CLASS POEM BY ELLIOTT JAMES Before a class distinctly Kiitll High-sounding terms in some way fit T0 subjugate my native wit I sorely need; Or else how can I make the hit Fate has decreed? But if the muses I implore, They went enrich my empty store; Nor can they aught of poets lore In me distinguish, So I resort to nothing more Than common English. Nor shall I sing in mystic lays 0f childhood, or maturer days, When cupidls wild and antic ways My heart affected; For now my Illonelinessll betrays Those hopes rejected. But my review is most concerned About the little things Ilve learned; Things that more tllarned men have spurned As inconsistent With those, they think, have strictly earned Supreme enlistment. :tGreat oaks from little acorns growf Is no more valuable to know Than that these giants hold below Their lofty boughs, Much wormy fruit to overthrow What good it sows. So many men have won a name Stripped of the just reproach and blame . That should fame, attend their ttwatered And social prestige, That rectified, would portion shame Their only vestige. And many women seem to feel That all their Hfadsil to men appeal, That width of hat and height of heel, Define their worth And think such things will best reveal Their noble birth. To this our silence makes concession And so we get the same impression And dare not make the least digression From such devotion, Though we may have in our possession A better notion. But motives, good, held in seclusion, Require some radical intrusion; A real enthusiastls illusion Of bounden duty, Ncr should he be, for that infusion, Denied the booty. Yet some are born With a suspicion. That cruel fate, perhaps tradition, Must serve a pre-arranged commission In their existence, And thus they lose their free volition And strong consistence. And others Iind a sweet content In any way the twig is bent; And never offer to invent A new condition That might incite or supplement' Their dead ambition. But some believe they can secure Distinction that Will long endure, If they but make a pleasure tour Through dutyls portal; But fancy dreams will not insure Our names immortal. And only faithful service gains Respect, and all that yet remains Of just renown, and best maintains A high position Of trust, that, in the throng, sustains A recognition. For if the work is vainly done, That help, the needy poor will shun, And if the doer has begun To court his praise, Then what of fame he may have won Will turn disgrace. Then humble work Will best atone For wrongs to which we all are prone; Then may the better seeds weive sown On our removal To Judgment, at St. Peterls throne Meet his approval. RAYMOND G. BRESSLER nascimur poetae jimus oratores frangas non flectus GROVER C. MAC LAREN 19 CLASS ORATION WEALTH AS A SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY. RAYMOND G. BRESSLER. E ARE standing tonight in the radiant glow of twentieth century Cm progress. The events of the swiftly fleeting days of the present era will soon fill out the pages of that volume which records the most wonderful period in the history of man- kind. The history of the past is sufficiently full of evidence to convince us that the downfall of nations is a result of internal disturbances, rather than from any incursions by external fees. The American commonwealth, with its democratic principles, takes great pride in the fact that there is no power mighty enough to invade this country. But we dare not underestimate the forces within that are slowly and surely pursuing their courses, receiving an addition here and apparently administering relief there, until they burst upon us with tide wave strength. The great social problems rise before us in stupendous magnitude and demand a solution. By whom should they be solved? What part do we play in the role? When are we to make our entrance? These are some of the questions which confront us at the present time. They cant be solved during childhood, but in childhood we mould our character and lay the foundation for future usefulness. Children feel the infiuenee of external conditions much more keenly than do older people. They have comparatively n0 responsibilities. But as they develop they assume a more and great responsibilities. They begin to perceive a deeper meaning in life. They arrive at a better conception of local conditions, and guided by that they form their ideal. This ideal is almost certain to be in accordance with their surroundings. Thrice blessed is the young man, who has been raised in a community where the people have the welfare of their country at heart; where politics, religion, and civil education perform their proper functions; where a man meets his fellows face to face in all transactions. That young man will then have a better idea of what ought to be and will be better prepared to cope with some of these great social problems. The time when we must take our glimpse of the larger life has come. Shall we join the mfriends of humanityH and tour the country preaching age quad agis fama semper vivat PAUL S. KANTZ my 21 In order to train for good citizenship. The citizenship for which we should strive is marked by at least three qualities: morality, patriotism, and intelligence. A highly intelligent nation may become a highly immoral people, failing to hold its own in the struggle for survival. Individually the Greeks were the most intelligent people the world has ever known7 but their public life became corrupt, their standard of domestic life was lowered, their patriot- ism waned, and in spite of their intellectuality they lost their national prestige and power. On the other hand, an ignorant people can never become a strong and socially effective people. Russia of today has virtually taken its place among the second rate powers of the world. A large percentage of its population is made up of the peasant class, who are steeped in ignorance. The explanation of the result of the late Russia-Japanese war is to be found chiefly in the fact that every Japanese soldier and sailor could both read and write. He was consciously intelligent. The vast majority of the Russian soldiers could neither read nor write. I A citizenship which is intelligent, or moral, or patriotic will not alone insure the future greatness of this country. It must be one which combines all three. . In order to establish a good home. The home is the fountain from which everything must spring. In its peculiar relation to the child it can do more for him than any other institution. The care and education of the child devolves upon the home and home-makers. True, the Sunday school takes upon itself the spiritual education and the day school the secular education, but the destiny of the child is well nigh determined before it ever enters school. It is altogether impossible to accomplish anything unless there be harmonious working between the school and the home. Lord Curzon says, ttIt would have been just as bad to have sent a knight of olden times into battle without armor as to send a young man or woman out into the world in this age without having a good educationf, And the only way to get a good education is to have a good healthy atmosphere in your home life. One of the greatest dangers which confront this nation today is the laxity of the home discipline. In all large cities, among the unfortunate classes, there is Virtually nothing which can be called Home. None of the higher and nobler thoughts of life are ever instilled in the minds of the children. They live on the streets and from the streets they get theirideas. Should this nation fall into the hands of such people it would fail. This nation may be overrun by the influx of foreigners, but such is the Vitality of the Anglo-Saxon race that instead of being overwhelmed by numbers from without we welcome them. May we encourage them to entereto enter, and, as soon as found worthy, to receive the stamp of our nationality. The 22 only aliens Who ever become thoroughly fused into our citizenship are those who not only accumulate capital in this country, but Who keep it here. The only native born American, Who is entirely true in his spirit is the one Whose point of View is sufficiently broad to realize in the foreigner of today the citizen of tomorrow; who realizes that each loyal American, Whether made, or in the making, is an asset of the government at large. The government is the people; it is supported by the people; it depends for its economic inde- pendence on the economic independence of its constituent parts. It is there- fore necessary that the people of a country should, primarily, accumulate wealth, individually and collectively. It is the fundamental social responsi- bility, one which makes all other social responsibilities easier of aequirement. 28 CLASS PROPHECY RUBY D. LEECH. FEW years ago as I was looking through my old papers and note E books, I discovered an old diary dated 1918, and while glancing through it I found many interesting things. Many notes were such that took me back in memory to the almost forgotten year of 1908 spent in Valparaiso University. A diary kept by a woman of thirty some years is not like that of a young girl. The latter usually consists of full, lengthy accounts of everything just as they seem to her. But the notes of an older woman are simply notes and leave us to fill in details ourselves. Such were the hurriedly jetted down notes that I found in this little book. First I found the words: HGrood time, traveling. That made me think. What did I do? 0, yes! That year I took most of the summer OH? to see sights, to Visit friends, and to try to find out what had become of others of whom I had heard nothing for several years. On June the first I noted the arrival of Nan Neighbors in New York. I immediately telegraphed her to meet me there in a few days. She did, and I was overjoyed at seeing her smiling face after her long stay in the Philip- pines. She went there to teach but took up nursing and was soon established as head nurse in one of the most prominent hospitals there. A short time afterwards I was staying in a city in New York. When looking over the hotel register I found the name, Albert Wedeking, and on inquiring about him was told that he was professor of German in the college V which was situated in that town. After a hard days work he was seen sitting in a straight chair in his bachelor's apartments thinking solemnly of his lonely lot, and at last he sank back with a groan, saying, itO, Heck! I can stand this no longerW About this time I heard of Henry Teigan, a great preacher and evangelist, second only to Dwight L. Moody and popular among a large class of working people, chieiiy on account of his socialistic views. He has written a book on Socialism which is now taken as the most authoritative of all socialistic books. In it he often refers to Bryan, saying, uIf this man had been in office, Socialism would have been much farther advanced, and this country would therefore have been in a much more prosperous condition.H I found G. F. Sisson in charge of a ladies7 boarding school, which was attended mostly by pretty girls. He seemed to be a great favorite among age quad agis RUBY D. LEECH fama semper vivat H PAUL S. KANTZ 25 them, especially in the line of athletics, and they all affectionately call him iiSissyW Paul Moody is now singing With a grand opera company, and has made quite a iihitW especially among the girls. He has also had several of his poems published and set to music. Among them is iiI Like the Girl Who Made the Latest Hit. Thomas Matney has attended a university Whose main purpose seems to have been to broaden the Views of men. At least he no longer thinks that everyone is narrow in his beliefs, and strangest of all to relate, he has become a very earnest and efficient orthodox preacher. Elliott James has prospered financially since he left Valparaiso. His well known antipathy towards the tobacco trusts of his state led him to use all his knowledge and Wit to work against them until he formed a union stronger than theirs. And he is now at the head of one of the greatest tobacco trusts of the South. Henry Kinsey Brown has at last given up hopes of seeing Bryan elected and has consented to have his own name put forward for the next nomination, and is now out making stump speeches. His success in Winning the people over to his side is well known, for When he raises his voice to a high pitch in eloquent appeal for his cause, Who can say him nay? Raymond Bressler is known as a man of many talents. He occasionally sings at moving picture shows, and has played in a number of light comedies. He also taught Latin and English in high school, but he had played the ilfoolli so many times that the students copied his example, and at last sent him back to iiHalifaXW Martin Teigan is a lawyer and has settled down in a small town in the eastern part of Nebraska. He is as hard to understand as ever. I am not sure Whether he is merely an honest lawyer or a cunning politician. But from What I heard I believe that he is the latter. He tried to get an office in his state a few years ago, but ran as slowly as he walked around the streets of Valparaiso, and so was as late as he used to be in arriving at some of his classes. J . E. Caldwell is president of a college for negroes in Northern Louisiana. He has practically built it up himself and is doing good work in it. He is also using his spare time to invent telescopes With Which he may explore the celes- tial region, for he has already become an authority on astronomy. Paul Kantz is no longer looking for a girl. He has at last found one Who ARCHIVES VALPARAISO UNIVERSITY 26 suits him. He has become a head carpenter and contractor for houses, and while overlooking the work at two olcloek the other afternoon he would have fallen from the second story had not one of the workmen caught him. They told me that he always falls asleep at that time from force of aihabit contracted years ago. Jessie Covell has realized her ambition to be a great professor of Latin. She has produced several books in Latin rivaling those of even Cicero and Virgil. One that surpasses all the rest and which is drawn from personal experience is entitled HChildhood Stories Told in Rhyme? and is intended for the amusement 0f the youth. During my travels I met Fred Marsh. I noticed that he had a very wide- awake expression and seemed to regard everything and everybody in such a scrutinizing manner. No one seemed to know much about him, but at last I found out through a friend of his that he is a detective and was at that time working on a very important case which he hoped soon to be able to iitrack Oiitf7 He thought that he had found a clue as to the whereabouts of certain people who are in the habit of breaking the ten oiclock curfew law. L. J. Oare is now a member of congress7 having succeeded Uncle Joe Cannon. He is a Violent Republican and has introduced a resolution that every man who does not vote the Republican ticket should be fined five dollars. In behalf of his proposition he has held the iioor continuously for a period of forty-eight hours. Some years ago G. C. MaeLaren went to Montana and while in the West visited some friends in Washington. This Visit must have affected him deeply for since his return he has produced a poem similar to Tennyson7s NDream of Fair Womenf and we think that this dream will soon be realized. During the last few seasons he has been a powerful aid to the tiWhite Soxli in their most strenuous games, and is now at the head of the Y. M. C. A. National Athletic Association. Some years ago Walter A. Zaugg met his affinity in South Dakota and located in the West, where for a time he was lost in oblivion, but iistruck it rich in a new oil iield and shortly afterward united with the Standard Oil Company. He is now recognized by John D. Rockefeller as one of his most promising men and is rapidly rising in office. Herbert A. Brown has become widely known among the naturalists of this country. He has made many important additions to science by his discov- eries of new botanical specimens. He has, for the last few years, been searching for a plant, the discovery of which will add the climax to his present 27 fame. T0 13nd this plant he has searched the depths of the wilds of Africa and South America, and has at last found it in Florida. The name of this plant is known only to a few, but was told to me the other day. It is ttThistle-downt, t0 feather the nest of Brown and Brown. Charles A. Coburn has attained great success in his line of work. He has built several large factories for the manufacture of large balloons and air ships, and has succeeded in finding a new way by which Hhot ail may be supplied for a continuous trip around the world, Which he shortly expects to take. And this same supply does not affect in the least the overflow of tthot airti from the supplying individual. WALTER A. ZAUGG mens agitat molem nihil quad tetigit non ornavit ALBERT WEDEKING 29 TOAST RESPONSE AT ALUMNI BANQUET WALTER A. ZAUG-G. R. TOASTMASTER, Ladies and Gentlemen: Again the best wine is being served at the end of the feast. To me has fallen the lot of detaining you for a few moments in order that the luxuries which have been partaken of may find time to reach equilibrium. Some folks even object to speeeh-making, but I have found as much displeasure in silence as in talking. There are times when both are painful, and I feel at this moment that the pain is mutual. A young boy who was very inquisitive once accompanied his father to market with a load of hay. On the way the father urged the boy to keep quiet in town lest the people should think him a fool. After reaching the end of their journey, the old man left him in charge of the load while he went to find a buyer. After he had gone, several men came up and asked the boy if he desired to sell the hay. The son kept quiet and uttered not a word. The gentlemen repeated their question, but the boy was firm in his silence. They at last became vexed and exclaimed, HYou little fool, if you don7t want to talk keep your hay? and walked away. When the father returned the little fellow, in a much discouraged mood, said, uDad I kept quiet, but they found me out anywayW So I thought it matters little whether we talk or not, you will find us out anyway. In presenting you the merits of the Classical class, I am representing a family of loyal children. We have remained under the protection of our Alma Mater the longest. Others have allowed the hustle and strife of life to entice them from her walls, yet we remained obedienthsacrifieing what seemed to them temptlng in order that we might go out into the world as bachelors of a higher degree, not excluding even some of the most aged of the Scientific brethren, or any of their dear Profs. We are not many, but it is not the much- ness of things that really counts in this world, for we are taught that even the hairs of our heads are numbered. It would be unnecessary for me to tell you anything of our childhood, other than that we came here, many of us becoming students of science. In this department our work was of such a nature that some of the teachers even desired to have us remain with them another term and we gladly responded to the encore. 30 This has been the year of our lives. We leave it not feeling the burden of our knowledge, but rather that which we do not have. Our eyes have been opened to the great universe of thought and activity from which few as yet have plucked but little. We are not left in the desert without any hope of sustenance and a clouded sky, but the knowledge which we have gained has been an impetus to research and a guiding star to the kingdom of truth and beauty. Our scientific knowledge may lead us into the practical avenues of life, but the ideas received from the Greek, Latin and other classics have instilled within us ideals to which the scientist has as yet no access. We are too apt many times to view the intellectual side of school days and neglect that which is to us the higher and more pleasant. Although many of us no doubt have fallen in love with Sophocles and Horace, yet the friend- ships, the living friendships, that we have formed will be of far more avail to us than those of the dead past. iiThey seem to bear the sun from the earth who take friendship out of life. We have nothing better from the immortal gods, nothing sweeterY, May we live these sentiments and prove them. Two members of a certain class were walking one day through a small forest. A lady and a gentleman these folks were. They heard the song of a bird in the distance. The young man turning to the lady asked her to interpret the song. She could not, thus throwing the task upon him. He gave it as, iiI love you,H NI love yon.H This seemed as satisfactory as if he had used an interlinear, when suddenly another bird was heard. This time the lady demanded another attempt from her partner, but he failing left this to her. She gave the song as, iiProve it,,7 Prove it. Classmates and friends, let7s prove loyal to those around us. These friendships are only more sacred to us when we think of him, who tiLooks at all things as they are, But through a kind of gloryW And who has carved within our minds a love for virtue and honor, and a thirst for the higher things of life, which we trust may never be quenched. He is our beloved Dean, Professor Carver. When we have forgotten into how many parts Gaul was divided and that the mind of Zeus is difficult to move, those free, heart to heart talks will be aids to our weary feet. It was he who first taught us that the great examination of life does not depend upon the tifinals nor upon what knowledge we may be able to display on manuscript, but that the great judgment is based upon manhood and womanhood achieved through honest effort and constant application; itforsan et haee olim meminisse iuvabit.H 31 I fear that I have somewhat deviated from my purpose, that of detaining you to that of vexing you, but it is our last chance at you, and we have tried to do our duty. In our departing we go not as lambs to the slaughter, we trust, but into the green pastures of life, finding: as we proceed, brooks 0f refreshing waters, of Which we may partake in remembrance of the fountain of our knowledgeeOur Alma Mater. NI salute thee, Valparaiso, I that loved Thee since my day began, Wielder 0f the stateliest mission ever Moulded by the mind of man. ht PROF. H. N. CARVER, Dean of Classical Department. 215 nuhi$ nzlut nahzr Brat. 38 THE HOMERIC ACHILLES. H. N. CARVER. HOSE of you who have read Horace,s Art of Poetry will recall E the bit of pleasantry with which he closes the letter, though your consciousness of its pleasantness consisted, no doubt, mainly in the fact that the story ended the pesky poem which had caused you so many hours of digging and raking. As you will remember, he says, that the city was full of fellows who claimed the name of poet, but whose title-deeds to the name were chiefly the circumstances, that they never submitted their heads to Lieinius the barber, never manicured their hands, always shunned the bath, and had heads s0 immedicably out of balance that all the hellebore on three islands could not make them level. On the streets wise men shunned them and fled from them; boys pestered them7 and only the ineautious followed them. If one of them had fallen into a well or a ditch, and you heard him yelling for help, you were advised to let him alone, that he had probably thrown himself into the trouble eoolheadedly and didnt really wish to be denied the notoriety of a spectacular death; and you were sagely assured, that by the strict logic of ethics7 to save one who didrft want to be saved amounted to the same thing as killing one who didntt want to be killed. Finally you were warned that you would better let well enough alone, because, if you did yank him out, in all probability he would just go off, write some more of his poetry, come down into the street, grab you, and kill you by reading the stuff to you. Well, now, for a good many years, I have been threatening to write some- thing, and read it to somebody. And Ilve written it; and7 if I can keep you a half hour, I propose to read it to you, though, I hope, with no such unhappy consequences as Horace feared for his friends in the Roman streets. I want to talk to you this afternoon about the Homeric Achilles; I want to show you, it I can, that the mud-balls, which certain street gamins in the commonwealth of literature have been throwing at him and the Iliad, never reached their mark, much less befouled him and the immortal song of his wrath. And I think it must have been this same Quintus Horatius, in the same poem, who first suggested the pious office to me. ttIf you replace upon the 34 7 stagef you remember his monition to the youthful Pisos, tithe honored Achilles, let him be strenuous, wrathful, inexorable, fierce, let him deny that laws were made for himself, and let there be nothing that he will not claim for his spearY, And every time I go With Vergil into the temple at Carthage and stand with the pious Aeneas before that picture of Achilles selling the lifeless body of Hector for gold, while the lacrymose hero draws huge groans from the bottom of his chest, I stand thinking in the vernacular, but not talk- ing even in Dutch. But there is no use in expecting a Roman to understand, much leSS to appreciate, a Greek; and I think it must have been homemade observation that taught a far greater Roman than either Horace or Vergil, the profound truth, that it is a characteristic of human nature to hate the one you have wronged. But, as Cicero said, HIlla nimis antiqua praetereaf those examples I pass by as too ancient, and will come down to recent times. A few years ago, Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, of Boston, fresh from ealisthenic breathings, in an atmosphere of The New Thought, published in a magazine article his lueubrations upon NCertain Accepted Heroes.H To my mind the article is an amazingly fine example of the ease with which one may read a great book and read only iiwords, words, wordsN as poor Hamlet said of his own reading. Listen for a moment: iiThis, in the driest outline, is the story of Achilles, as Homer gives it. What manner of man do the ,facts disclose? Simply an unusually brutal savage of colossal strength, treacherous and cruel, ready to sacrifice friends for a quarrel over the spoils, utterly devoid of generosity toward his foes, and not particularly brave. Now, I thought I had a speaking acquaintance with Achilles, and you may imagine my perturbation of spirit, when I heard these Delphian words from the Bos- tonian cave. But ittime as he grows old teaches all thingsf as said one of the wisest of the Greeks; and in a few months the currents of my thought and feeling had recovered their wonted composure, when Mr. Andrew Car- negie untied a bag of winds and set the waves dancing again; It must have been at the time he began to exeogitate plans to dispose of all that stuff for which he knew he could secure no transportation into iithe undiscovered countryfl Doubtless he felt that if he must go into the library business, it would be a prudent thing to have a closer touch than he had ever made with Hthem literary fellersfi So he bought him a copy of Popels translation of the Iliad. He read it; and found the story tiresome. If Mr. Carnegie had only gone away off and sat down, the tired feeling would have soon left him; but he thought a waiting world was aching to share his weariness. He resorted to the customary Hbalm of hurt minds, -he found a magazine; he published his distress; and I am spoiling a quire of paper at a time when the price of wood-pulp is soaring, and Mr. Bryan has not been able to lay his invincible hands upon the soulless trust. 35 But, dropping badinage, I will confess that I may not be, though I think I am, a perfectly competent witness in the case. I earn a part of my bread and water by trying to persuade young people that it would be greatly to their advantage to have some intimate companionship with the swift-footed Achilles7 and I should not blame you at all should you feel that I could hardly be free from bias. But, happily for me, I am not alone in my feeling. There died, a few years ago, one of the most wonderful men that ever lived in England; a man with almost a giantls grasp of thought and range of knowledge; a man whose life was as prolific of good and bleSSing to his country as almost any life in all her long annals. He wrote book after book, and article after article upon the Iliad, and every book, every article, was simply a labor of love. He read the great epic through once each year, and at the close of the thirtieth reading recorded his feeling that he found it richer and more glorious than ever before. Cicero said he would rather be wrong with Plato, than right with another man. I should not want to say that of any man; but I will say, that I would rather take the risk of being wrong with Gladstone upon this matter7 than of being right with both the Boston politician and the Skibo Castle ironmonger. ttTenet insanabile multos eaeoethes scrie bendi,H wrote Juvenal in his waspishest mood, and I can see little more in the deliveranees of the American scribes than evidence of the satyristls keenness of insight. Let us look into the story and see whether we can make out what kind of character the poet really intended to create, and what it is in the char- acter that has kept the story of his wrath through all the long centuries fresh and living, safe from the eating tooth of time. I think you must all know the outlines of the storyehow7 a long while ago, perhaps three thousand years, on the western coast of Asia, bordering the Egean and the Hellespont, lay the kingdom of Priam, Troy-land, and the well-walled city of Troy; while across the narrow sea to the west lay Laeedoemon, and Mycenae, the homes of Menelaus and Agamemnon; fertile Phthia, ttthe mother nurse of heroes,H and the home of Achilles; rocky Ithaca, the home of the much counseling Odysseus; and other places, whose names live immortal in story and song. You must know how, through the misdoings of a most beautiful woman of Laeedaemon and a most effeminate fop of Troy a terrific war was waged; how a thousand ships and a hundred thousand men crossed the sea, and for ten long years tried the bloody wager of battle on the plains of windy Troy. In those early days an army had no fixed base of supplies, no regular com- missary and quartermaster departments, as a modern army must have; it maintained itself7 as Shermanls bummers did, by ttforaging liberally off the eountryfl When a foraging expedition returned to the army, the spoils, the grain, the cattle, the captive women, were all thrown into one common LENN J . OARE aequitas sequitar legem politicus dux HENRY KINSEY BROWN 37 stock, then divided by lot among the princes of the army; and what fell to the lot of any prince became his own private possession, as much as my coat or my watch is my own today. Among the captive women thus distributed, one, Briseis, had been alloted to Achilles; another, Chriseis, had fallen to Agamemnonts lot. The father of the latter, a priest of Apollo in one of the little towns of the Troad, bearing the emblems of his office to add weight to this suit, had come to the Achaean camp with boundless ransoms to redeem his daughter. When the priest had presented his suit, of course ttall the other princes shouted approval, both to reverence the priest and to receive the bright ransomsfl ttBut not for the son of Atreus Agamemnon was it pleasing to the soul.H He refused the offer, which was his perfect right, but he dismissed the supplieant, adding insult both to the man and to the god whose emblems the man bore. In his indignation the old priest went away along the shore of the loud roaring sea; but he prayed that Apollo might avenge the double insult; and the god heard his prayer. He came down the erags of Olympus enraged in his heart. He was so angry that the arrows rattled on his shoulders as he moved along, and his coming was like the night. He sat down at some distance from the ships, but he sent an arrow among them; and for nine days up through the host went the shafts of the god, and the pyres of the dead were kept burning in heaps. Now Agamernnon was the richest and most powerful of the Aehaean princes. To him went the largest meed of honor and the largest share of the spoils. He was the commander in chief, the shepherd of the people, and it would seem that he should have been the first to take measures for their relief. But he had other things to look after, he was kerdaleophron, his heart was bent upon gain. On the tenth day Achilles called and assembly of the chiefs. He told. them that they had wandered from the purpose which brought them to Troy, and that they must return to that purpose if they would escape destruction. While he knew perfectly well what the origin of the trouble was, he advised that the accredited sources of such information be consulted; whereupon Calehas, by far the best of the augurs, arose; but refused to disclose what he knew. He was afraid to tell the truth; he said a man would be angered, a man who lorded it over the Argiyes and whom the thaeans obeyed; for, said he, a king is the stronger of the two, when he is angry with a man whom he can handle; and he demanded that Achilles should give him a promise of protection. Achilles told him to have perfect courage and reveal the message of the god exactly as he knew it; and promised that no one around the hollow ships should lay heavy hands upon him, even should he name Agamemnon. Then the blameless priest took courage and spoke. He said the god was enraged at the treatment which his priest had received from Aganieninon, and would not hold off the unseemly plague until 88 the bright-eyed maid had been sent back to her dear father without price and without ransom. Then for them arose the hero, the son of Atreus, wide- ruling Agamemnon, aching; and he said: ttProphet of evil, never have you spoken for me a thing that rejoices my heart; always for you is it dear to the heart to prophesy disagreeable things; never have you spoken a good word, nor brought it to passfleas if it were the priests business to bring his words to pass. The king of men had not yet learned, perhaps he never learned it, that if you would have the true priest of the gods speak words that shall gladden your heart, you must first do the things that will gladden the hearts of the gods; that great lesson Achilles had learned as the wide- ruling Agamemnon never dreamed it. ttIt is necessaryf he said to the bright-eyed Athena, a little farther on in this same Scene, uit is necessary to obey the words of you two, 0 goddess, though greatly enraged in soul; for thus it is better. Who perehance is obedient to the gods, to his words they listen attentivelyf, After berating the priest Agamemnon expressed his willingness to give back the fair-cheeked daughter of Chryses, but declared that they should right away get ready another prize for himself. He said it wouldnt 100k well if he should be the only one sitting around there without a prize. Achilles tried to reason the matter with the angry chief. He said that there were not very many prizes lying around loose; that they had all been allotted and were now private possessions; that it would not be seemly to throw them again into a common lot and redistribute them; but he promised that, when another distribution did take place Agamemnon should have a prize worth three or four times the one he should give up. This was not at all satisfac- tory to the king of men, wide-ruling Agamemnon. He declared that Achilles was acting underhandedly, was concealing in his mind, and threatened that if the magnanimous Aehaeans did not forthwith hunt up a prize for himself he would go with a crowd, he would grab, he would carry away the prize of Achilles. Thereupon, as the poet expresess it, a choking became for the son of Peleus, and the heart within his shaggy breast pondered in two direc- tions-whether, drawing his great sword, he should kill Agamemnon, or cause his wrath to cease and hold back his fury. While he was still pondering the question, but all the while slowly drawing the great sword from its seabbard, suddenly Athena, bright-eyed Athena, stood behind him; to draw his attention she took him by a lock of his golden hair; he turned, he instantly recognized her and spoke winged words. He wanted to know whether she hadnlt come to see the insolenee of Agamem- non, son of Atreus, and ventured the opinion that pretty soon, maybe, the son of Atreus would lose his life because of his arrogance. But she said that the goddess, white-armed Hera, had sent her. She told him to cease from 89 his strife and stop drawing that sword with his hand. Instantly back into the scabbard went the great sword and he spoke the words I have already quoted, HIt is necessary to obey the words of you two, 0 goddessfi In half a dozen lines she told him What he might do and what he must not do; and she was gone to Olympus into the homes of Aegis-bearing Zeus among the other divinities. There was no need that she should stay a minute to see whether he would understand and obey. He had her command and that was enough. Agamemnon was true to his enforced promise. He sent back the 01d priestis child, and with her a hecatomb for the far-darting Apollo; but he was true to his threat, also. ,He sent two heralds to take away the prize of Achilles. The Greeks had a word, hubris7 which we usually translate inso- lenee. It is the word Achilles used when he asked Athena whether she had not come to see the insolenee of Agamemnon. By this word they seemed to express their conception of what is lowest and Vilest in character, a mere sense of might, undirected by reason, unrestrained by sympathy or reverence, but warmed into some semblance of life by contempt; and this would seem to be the word fitted to characterize Achilles as Senator Lodge read him; but the heralds did not find him so. They did not like their office in this case. They went unwillingly along the shore of the barren sea and found him sitting near his hut and his black ship, and they stood fearing and revereneing the king; nor did they speak to him nor address him. He understood the situation instantly, and spoke words that might have come from the lips of Arthur, or any the knightliest knight of the Round Table. ttHail, heralds, messengers of Zeus and men, come nearer. You are not blameworthy to me, but Agamemnon, who sent you on account of the damsel BriseisY7 The greeting ended, he directed his most cherished friend, Patroelus, to bring out the girl and give her to the heralds to lead away; but she went unwill- ingly with them. She was not anxious for a change of masters. Then Achilles withdrew from all participation in the affairs of the camp. For twelve or iifteen days, as is commonly said, he ttsulkedit at his ships. This is the circumstance that drew iron tears down Senator Lodgeis cheek, and made even Ruskin, who usually understands a situation when he sees it, say, ttThis man, though aided continually by the wisest of the gods, and burning with the desire of justice in his heart, becomes yet, through i11- governed passion, the most unjust of men; and, full of the deepest tenderness in his heart,. becomes yet, through ill-governed passion, the most cruel 0f menfi Passionate he certainly was; but was he, as Ruskin says, the most unjust and the most cruel of men? Look at the situation. To save his people from destruction, he had undertaken an ungrateful task, that was properly not his own; he had done it with the utmost consideration, recogniz- tenax propositi NANCY C. NEIGHBORS par negotiis neque supra W CHAS. A. COBURN 41 ing his own subordinate station, and the legitimate position of the king of . men; he had been outraged; had been accused of double-dealing, the thing most abhorrent to his nature; he had been treated, not as a man, but as a thing without self-respect, or rather his self-respect had been recognized, but he had been outraged through his selferespect, as if it were the only .Vulnerable part of his manhood. And through it all not one of the princes, not the crafty Odysseus, not the beef-witted Ajax, not the honeytongued Nestor, nor Menelaus, nor any of them, had protested or spoken a word in his behalf. They had sat there through all the assembly, enjoying the enter- tainment, that didn7t cost them fifteen cents for a plate of ice cream and cake. Now, there certainly is such a thing as casting your pearls before swine; and that folly no wise man ever commits, after he has learned what tusks and bristles are. If you must have dealings with swine, whether in market place or temple, the only proper instrument for conducting the transaction is, either the big stick, or the scourge of small cords. And that was precisely Achilles, view of what the situation demanded. He did not personally wield the big stick-for that the goddess had forbiddenebut when he withdrew from the assembly and broke offall relations with the princes, he told them that soon a longing for himself should come upon the sons of the Achaeans, every one, when many should fall dying at the hands of the inanslaughtering Hector. The longing came sooner than anyone looked for. Zeus sent a baleful dream to Agamemnon, under the inspiration of which he marshalled the people for battle; the manslaughtering Hector came; multitudes fell dying; and with the utmost difiiculty they saved their ships and camp from the Trojan hames. When matters became desperate, Agamemnon sent a deputation, Phoenix7 Ajax and Odysseus, to Achilles with promises of boundless reward, if he would come to the succor of the sore-pressed host. They found him with a lyre in his hands, wherewith he was delighting his soul and singing the praises of heroes. He received them with perfect courtesy; he listened to their words; but he absolutely rejected their requests. Gladstone wrote a long and very interesting essay upon these replies, as examples of the oratoris art; and the skill with which the knightliest courtesy for the deputies is blended with withering scorn for Agamemnon and his offers, the clearness with which his own position is stated in swift, picturesque terms, are all wonderful enough. To the entreaty of Odysseus he replies: HHeaven-sprung son of Laertes, Odyse seus of many wiles, in openness must I declare to you my thoughts7 even as I am minded and as the fulfilment thereof shall be, that you may not sit before me and max this way and that. For hateful to me and like the gates of Hades is he that hides one thing in his heart and utters another with his tonguef, Then he does speak what was in his heart, and the deputies MARTIN J. TEIGAN teres et rotundus virtute efficii GEORGE F. SISSON 43 go back with their discouraging report. Matters went from bad to worse for the Achaeans until hope was almost gone. Finally, at the pitiful entreaty of his friend, Achilles permitted Patroclus to put on his own armor and lead the Myrmidons in a forlorn hope to beat back the Trojans and save the ships. Carried away with youthful enthusiasm, he rushed into the affray, only to meet Hector in single combat. He was quickly overmastered, killed, and Achilles, armor was in the hands of the Victor. When news of the disaster reached him, Achilles was beside himself with grief and rage ; a tiblaek cloud of grief enwrapped him, and with both hands he took dark dust and poured it over his head, and defiled his comely face, and on his fragrant doublet black ashes fell; and himself in the dust lay mighty and mightily fallen?7 While he sat overwhelmed with his sorrow, the goddess, white-armed Hera, sent swift wind-footed Iris to him with the command to go rescue the body of his friend. He was without armor, without even the helmet, but he instantly obeyed the command, as he always did. As he went, Athena threw her tasseled aegis about his shoulders, and set a crown of gleaming eloud upon his brow. iiAnd he went and stood beyond the wall beside the trench, yet mingled not among the Aehaeans, for he minded the wise bidding bf his motherf, There, just across the trench, the deadly conflict went on over the body of his friend. He shouted, three times he shouted, and far away Athena echoed. the cry. It was not a great, bellowing noise, such as might have came from the throat of Stentor, or from the jaws of a bull 0f Bashan; but there was something in it, something which meant that Achilles 'was again upon the field. First the horses yoked to the Trojan chariots, heard it, and turned in uncontrollable iiight; and the Achaeans rescued the body of their dead comrade. I know nothing in all literature to match this scene in all the elements of what the rhetories call the sublimeenothing, unless it may be that Vision of the 01d prophet, that terrible figure coming from Edom, striding along in the pride of Victory and might, its garments streaming in the wind of its movements, and all dabbled with the blood of its enemies, whom it had been treading in the' winefat of its wrath. The following morning, his mother brought him from the workshop of Hephaestus a wonderful suit of armor, such as it beseemed that the work of Immortals should be. The same day he reentered the conflict to avenge the death of his friend, and before evening the dead body of the Trojan hero was trailing in the dust, lashed to his chariot. Three times the maddened chief dragged the body around the tomb of his friend, and held it to be given raw t0 the dogs. But Apollo kept away all defaeements from the body; and at last Zeus sent silver-footed Thetis to her son with the message, that the gods were displeased with his conduct. He sent also Iris t0 the palace of Priam with the message, that the 01d king should go to the ships of the Achaeans l h l 44 and ransom the body of his son. itLet not death be in his thought, nor any fearxivsueh was the messaggelifor Achilles is not thoughtless, nor unfeel- ing, nor wicked, but with all courtesy he will spare a suppliant manf, The command was literally carried out by the aged king, and the promise literally fulfilled by Achilles. There is but one other scene in the Iliad, and very few in all literature, more touching than the scene of their meeting, and the influence which the old king, tottering with age and bent with the burden of his woe, had upon the fierce, grief-Inaddened spirit of Achilles. Far away in Phthia, was another old man, Peleus, his own father, whom he loved with a passion like all his passions, whom he had not seen in ten long years, and whom, like the unhappy supplicant, even then ilhungry calamity might be tracking over the bounteous earthW The thought took all fiereeness from his spirit; he spoke to the supplieant as a son would speak to his father; gave him a couch, where he might sleep safe from the hoodlums of Agameme non ; promised to hold. off all lighting till the funeral rites were all performed; prepared the body for its obsequies, placed it on a bier, and restored it to the supplieant father. This ends the story of the wrath-the theme of the Iliad. When Darwin published his epoeh-making Origin of Species, many excele lent people looked askanee at the doctrines. They felt it could be little less than profanation of manhood and womanhood to believe that they had come up from such lowly beginnings in those far away times. But we are little troubled by the feeling now; we see that it makes mighty little differ- ence what was at the beginning of the line, back there in the shadows and darkness, provided only at this end, here in the sunshine and bright air, among the singing birds and blooming flowers, the monkey and hog are not in too conspicuous evidence; and; we are satisfied that in some unimagined way all this beauty and glory, which we love and cherish, must have been there in the darkness and shadows; and, looking backward through the long reaches of time, we rejoice to find iisuch refraction of events as often rises ere they risejl any the slightest evidence, that the beauty and glory of fruit and bloom and song are breaking through the darkness and gloom. Very much the same way is it with the matters of which I am speaking. My controversy with Senator Lodge, and Mr. Carnegie is not at all that they see the dark parts of the picture painted in the Iliad, but that they seem to see nothing else. And there are parts, indeed all the background, that are horrible enough; just as any thoroughly realistic picture of our modern life, ful novels have scarcely anything in their background not shocking and repellant. Professor J. R. Seeley, in his great book, the Ecee Homo, says of the Iliad: ltin the poem the distinction between right and wrong is barely 45 recognized. The few deeds that the poet recognizes as wrong, or at least as strange and dangerous, he conceives all persons as capable of perpetrating under the infiuence of passion, or some heaven-sent bewilderment of the understanding.H But that should cause no surprise. It is the childhood of the world, with all of childhoodfs vices and virtues, the innocence that comes from ignorance, and the wisdom that only long ages of bitter experience can organize into a wisdom that will not forget with the day. When Agamemnon learns the folly of his actions about the prizes, he says aasamen, I was bewild- ered, I wandered in mind, and the word takes from his mind all sense of shame for his folly. Achilles, too, reminds us often of a great, overgrown schoolboy. He wails and runs to his mother, silver-footed Thetis, whenever anything goes wrong; but he never lies to her. Athena and father Zeus must always have their eyes upon him; but they love him, and never send him an evil dream, as they do Agamemnon. They express their wishes as to what he shall do and what not do, and they know he has in his employment no lawyer to tell him how far he can go and not have a thunderbolt sent after him. Personally he has no quarrel with the Trojans, for they never stole his apples nor his cattle in fertile Phthia; but he had given his promise to help Menelaus out of any trouble that his beautiful wife might get him into, and when she was carried away by a Trojan, they became his enemies. When another Trojan slays his beloved Patroelus, at the pyre 0f the beloved he slays twelve sons of the Trojans, that his beloved may have peaceful entrance into the wide-gated dwelling of Hades; but when another Trojan, the old, sorrowing king, comes to ransom the body of Hector, he treats the aged supplieant as tenderly as a son would treat a sorrow-burdened parent. He said, that when he returned to his ship all worn out with fighting, he had for his prize only a very little one, yet a mighty dear one; but when Agamemnon offered his own daughter as a reward for Aehillesl return to the conflict, he declined the offer with thanks,-he was not looking for a wife with a few millions, more or less, and he asked the heralds bitterly, whether the sons of Atreus were the only ones who loved their wives. For his return Agamem- non offered him possessions back at home that would have made him as rich and powerful as any prince in the land; but he again declined with his highest considerationsehe did not estimate his manhood in terms of cities, or tripods, or horses, or slaves. It is a time of extremes, of contradictions, I must confessaa time almost of moral chaos; but probably no more chaotic and perplexing than our own times Will seem to the men and women of that distant future, the future of Hthe larger heart, the kindlier hand? the future of Hthe Christ that is to belt Young gentlemen the bright-eyed Athena will never watch over your ways. Never take you by your golden hair, when you are about to do 46 foolishness; never wrap your shoulders with her tasseled aegis; never set the light gleaming from your head; never echo your shout, when you stand at your endangered ships. She is only tta fallen old divinity, wandering in vain about bewildered shores? But what she stood for, what those clear-eyed old Greeks saw in her, are things just as living now, as in that childhood world. . And, whether for young lady or young gentleman, those things of the swift- footed Achilles, that obedience to all truth, that scorn of all guilefulness, that steadfastness in all friendships, that dauntlessness before all danger, that tenderness toward all the weak and helpless, are just as essential marks of all manly manhood and all womanly womanhood here and to-day, as they were in that far away time on the plains of holy Ilion. They will not make you president; they will not make you a social queen, and enable you to enter- tain king or shah; they will build you no tombs that must be kept safe from king or Shah; they will build you no tombs that must be kept safe from desecration by an armed patrol; but for guerdon of your lives, lived whether in hut or hall7 in uneventful fields, or on the smokeeshut battlefield, they will bring you7 and the alone, what ttShall win manls praise and womanls love, Shall be a wisdom that we set above All other skills and gifts to culture dear, A Virtue round whose forehead we inwreathe Laurels that with a living passion breathe, When other crowns grow, while we twine them, searfl