The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-08-20

but terror never. Everlasting calm in the pre-
sence of all fate; and joy such as they could win,
not indeed in perfect beauty, but in beauty at
! perfect rest kind of art this, surely to be
looked at, and thought upou sometimes with
| profit, even in these latter days.
! 10 be looked at sometimes. Not continually
ana never us model for imitation For you
are not Greeks; but, for better or worse English
| creatures; and cannot do, even if it were thou
SAND Tunes better worth doing, anything we'll
except what your English hearts shall prompt
and your English skies teach you. For all good
art Is the natural utterance of its own people in
| its own day
But also, your own art is a better and brighter
! one than ever this Greek art was. Many mo-
| tyes, powers, and insights have been added to
| thOse elder ones The very corruptions into
| which we have fallen are signs of a subtle life
hgher than theirs was, and therefore more fear
| Iui IN Its faults and DEATH Christianity has
! neither superseded, nor, by itself, eXcelled
! heathcnism; but it has added its own good, won
| also by many Ncmcan contest in dark valleys,
! to all that was good and noble i'm hcathcnism
| ana our present thoughts and work. when they
| are right, are nObcr than the hcathcus. And
! we are not revercnt enough to them, because
! we possess too much OF them. That sketch of
lOuf cheruD heads rom an English Girl, by Sir
| Joshua Reynolds at Kensington is an incom-
| parably finer thing than ever the Greeks did.
! lnellably tender in the touch, yet Herculeau i'm
! power innocent, yet exalted in feeling: pure in
! color as pearl: reserved and decisive in design
as this Lion crcst-if it alone existed of such-if
It were picture by IeuXis, the only one lfet in
| the world, and you built a shrine for It. and
were allowed to see it only seven DAYS in a
ye',r, Itaone would teach you all of art that you
ever needed to know. But you do not learn
from this or any other such work. because you
nave not reverence enough for them, and are
trying TO learn from all at once, and from
hundred other masters besides"
From Porter & Coates we have received
Hospital Sketches and Camp and Fireside
Stories, by Louisa NJ. Alcott About one-third
of this little volume is taken up with a record
of the writer's experience as a nurse in the
hospital at Washington during a portion of
the war, and the balance with series of plea
sanity written tales of camp life and home
scenes. Miss Alcott is known as a graceful
writer of stories and sketches and several of
her works have obtaineda we'll l-deserved popu-
larity. This little book will be read with
even more interest than her former writings.
The story of the hospital life is told in
pleasant vein, which shows fine sense of
humor, while there are passages Of simple
but intense pathos that rise to the height of
tragedy. Here we have a picture of a
woman's rights woman fulfilling her mis-
sion;-
John is going, nam, and wants 10 see you
if you can come.
'The moment this boy is asleep; tell him So
and let me know if l am in danger OF being too
late"
My Ganymede departed, ana while quicted
| poor Shaw thought of JOhr. He came in a
day or two after the others; end, one evening,
! when entered my pathetic room" found u
| lately Gmpticd bed occupied by large, fair
| man, with Il ue face, and the sercnGsJ eyes l.
| ever met One of the carrier cOmers had often
spoken of a friend, who Lad remained behind
! that those apparently worse wounded than him
self might reach a shelter first. The eman fretCed
! for his mate, and Waj never tired OF praisiug
| JOhn-his courage 81 Oriety, sclt-dcnial, and un-
failing kindlines5 Of heart; always winding up
with:-"Hes an out an out fine teller, tam;
you see if lie amt"
] had some curf' sity to behold this piece of
| excellence, and when he came watched him for
| a night or two h2lOre / made friends with him;
I for, to tell the ~uth. was little afraid of the
stately looking man, whose bed had to be
| heightened 70 accommodate his commanding
stature; who seldom spoke, uttered no com
plaint asked no sympathy, but TRANQUILITY OBJ
! served what went on about him: and, as he lay
| high upon his pillows, no picture OF dying
! statesman or warrior was ever fuller OF real dig
! nifty than this Virginia blacksmith. most at
| tractive face he had framed in brown hair and
beard, cOmely featured and full OF ViGOr, yet
Wsubdued by pain; thoughtful and often beau
tifully mild while watching the Affections of
others. as if entirely fOrgetful OF his own. His
mouth was grave and firm, with plenty of will
and courage in its lines, but a smile could make
it as sweet as any wolnan's; and his eyes were
child's eyes, looking one fairly in the face, with
/ a clear straightforward glance. which promised
well for such rs placed their faith in him. lie
seemed to cling to life, as if it were rich i'm du-
ties and delights, and he had learned the secret
of content The only time saw his composure
disturbed, was when my surgeon brought nm
other to examine John, WhO scrutinized their
faces with an anXiouslook, asking of the elder-
r do you think shall pull through, sr?" Il
! hope so, my man. And, as the two passed on,
JOhn eye still followed them with an intent
ness which would have won a truer answer from
f, them had they seen it. mOmentary shadow
lifted over his face; then the usual serenity
as II, in that brief eclipse, he had acknowledged
the existence OF some hard possibility. and ask
ing nothlng yet hoping all things, left the issue
III GODS hands, with that submission which is
: true piety.
| The next night as l went nyrounds with DR..
T., happened to ask whpt man in the room
3 probably suffered most: and, TO my great sur
r prise, he glanced at John:
t Every breath lie draws Is like a stab for the
ball pierced the left lung, broke rib, and did
4 | no end OF damage here and there so the Door
lad can neither find forgetfalness nor ease be-
i cause he must lie on his wounded back or suffo-
< cate IL VIII be a hard struggle and LONG one
T lor ne possesses great vitality; but even his tenn
: per9te life cant save him; l wish it ceud'
II You don't mean he must die Doctorgn
Is bless YOU there not the slightest hope for
l. MN; ana you'd better tell him so before Ionw
e women have way of doing such things com.
"a IortaOly, so leave it to you. He won't Iast
d more than day or two, at turthest"
II i could nave sat down on the spot and cr;n;
heartily, II had not learned the wisdom of Lt
= IlIng up one S tears for leisure moments. Sncl
y an END seemed very hard for such man S
u, nan dozen worn out, worthless bodies :, n " mIo
" nm, were gathering up the remnants n : St -
" I'VE, W nhger on Tor years perhaps t'sr5o,,s