And there is nothing, I seriously believe, in the present crises of human affairs - there is no point in the great human welfare, on which men's ideas so much need to be cleared up-to be advanced to be raised to a higher standard, as this grand and terrible responsibility of freedom.

4. In the universe there is no trust so awful as moral freedom; and all good civil freedom depends upon the use of that. But look at it. Around every human, every rational being, is drawn a circle; the space within is cleared from obstruction, or, at least, from all coercion; it is sacred to the being himself who stands there; it is secured and consecrated to his own responsibility. May I say it? God himself does not penetrate there with any absolute, any coercive power! He compels the winds and waves to obey him; he compels animal instincts to obey him; but he does not compel man to obey. That sphere he leaves free; he brings influences to bear upon it; but the last, final, solemn, infinite question between right and wrong, he leaves to man himself.

5. Ah! instead of madly delighting in his freedom, I could imagine a man to protest, to complain, to tremble that such a tremendous prerogative is accorded to him. But it is accorded to him; and nothing but willing obedience can discharge that solemn trust; nothing but a heroism greater than that which fights battles, and pours out its blood on its country's altar- the heroism of self-renunciation and self-control.

6. Come that liberty! I invoke it with all the ardor of the poets and orators of freedom; with Spenser and Milton, with Hampden and Sydney, with Rienzi and Dante, with Hamilton and Washington, I invoke it. Come that liberty! Come none that does not lead to that!

Come the

AT THE GATEWAY OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT STANDS THIS MAJESTIC STATUE OF LIBERTY, BY THE FRENCH SCULPTOR, BARTHOLDI, THE GIFT OF THE FRENCH PEOPLE TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES

liberty that shall strike off every chain, not only of iron, and iron law, but of painful constriction, of fear, of enslaving passion, of mad self-will; the liberty of perfect truth and love, of holy faith and glad obedience!

- ORVILLE DEWEY.

Friends!

XLVI. RIENZI TO THE ROMANS

I come not here to talk. Ye know too well
The story of our thralldom. We are slaves!
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves! he sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave! Not such as, swept along
By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads
To crimson glory and undying fame,
But base, ignoble slaves! — slaves to a horde
Of petty tyrants, feudal despots; lords

Rich in some dozen paltry villages,

Strong in some hundred spearmen, only great

In that strange spell — a name ! Each hour, dark fraud,

Or open rapine, or protected murder,

Cries out against them. But this very day

An honest man, my neighbor- there he stands

Was struck
The badge of Ursini! because, forsooth,
He tossed not high his ready cap in air,
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
At sight of that great ruffian! Be we men,

struck like a dog - by one who wore

And suffer such dishonor? men, and wash not
The stain away in blood? such shames are common.
I have known deeper wrongs. I that speak to ye-
I had a brother once, a gracious boy,

Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope,
Of sweet and quiet joy; there was the look
Of heaven upon his face which limners give
To the beloved disciple. How I loved
That gracious boy! younger by fifteen years,
Brother at once and son! He left side
my
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks, a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour
The pretty, harmless boy was slain! I saw
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried
For vengeance! Rouse, ye Romans! Rouse, ye slaves!
Have
ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl
To see them die! Have ye fair daughters? — Look
To see them live, torn from your arms, disdained,
Dishoncred; and, if ye dare call for justice,
Be answered by the lash! Yet this is Rome,
That sate on her seven hills,
Of beauty ruled the world!

and from her throne
Yet we are Romans.

Why, in that elder day to be a Roman
Was greater than a king! And once again
Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread
Of either Brutus ! - once again I swear
The eternal city shall be free!

- MARY RUSSELL MITFord.

Tell something that you have read or heard of Rome in the days of her greatest pride and power; of the courage and devotion of her citizens; of the simplicity of their lives; of the effect of wealth and luxurious living upon the national character.