Year: 1879

| TO pest advantage when surrounded on the
stage by poor actors. The belief has not al
together died out, it appears. 1t is based Oh
an Misunderstood Law of contrasts. Their
| would certainly be great contrast between
a bad egg and a pineapple, were the tw'
placed side by side on table, but the bad
ness of the egg would not emphasize tht
goodness of the fruit; on the contrary, i
would kill all delight in the apple.


1t certainly spoils play, and takes away
all the illusion, to see Romeo who quite
realizes our ideas of the Veronese youth
making hot love to a Juliet who is as coarse
and awkward as the wife Of a Southern
"Cracker;" or a Jane Eyre who is the very
picture of Charlotte Bronte's heroine, giving
passionate worship to a Rochester as feeble
as the belief in the veracity of Eli Perkins
and as loutish as Tony Lumpkin. The con
slant association with bad ACTORS, too, must
have an Injurious effect on the good one, and
behind the foot-gh.s.


With Robert Tombs few of us have any
sympathy, and he rarely says anything that
we receive tolerantly. But there is some
truth in the plea he has just made for the
carrying of Firearms. He says the way to
protect human life is to let every man who is
the aggressor know that the man he attacks
is able to defend himself; and he urges that
those who want you to lay firearms aside are
those who know they are stronger than you
and want to have an advantage over you.
They know they can master you il you trust
only to your bodily strength, and they do
not wish that you shall place yourselves on
an equality with them before the fight begins.
That is, they are towards, and they wish TO
take cowardiy advantage.


1t has always been held that gunpowder is
benefcent invention in that it serves to do
away with the inequality between the strong
and the weak. 1t destroyed feudalsm and
gave the common people weapon with
which they could meet their lordIy oppressors
on equal terms. 1t did good in the old days
and perhaps is good thing now in untries
where men carry their lives in their hands.
But better protection for human life is
found in the prompt arrest and speedy and
sure punishment of those taking it. Per-
haps if the South would adopt this method
it would find little need to use the revolver.
The policeman is a better protection than
the pistol and is not so apt to be misused.


There are memories like the sieves gold
washers use-they retain precious things
while the worfhIass m q ttar rups IN iI,rouo h
them. There are other memories more like
corn-sheller- the golden grains slip by, and
only the useless spikes on which the maize
grew are left.


Yorick's memory, he sadly confesses, is of
the corn.sheller pattern. Facts, as dates and
names, readily slip through it, and other
things, quite as valuable, avail themselves of
the tempting facilities for escape. Some
times so anxious are they to get away that,
like desperate prisoners, they mutilate them
selves in gaining their liberty. So it comes
about that historical fact without date,
that story of some famous man, whose
name is forgotten, that an anecdote with the
point broken off, that few lines from po-
EN- of which author and subject have slipped
the memory, remain in the mind, more use
less than last years almanac.


Yorick's memory is filed with disjecta
nenabrG of the poets and prosateurs, lines
that have caught his fancy as book-shelves
catch dust. He cannot place them. He
would like to; he would like to know to what
authors they belong. At present, like the
fragments Of halt-forgotten songs that haunt
ed the lover of the Miller's Daughter and
kept time to nothing in some odd corner OF
the braiD, these scattered lines haunt Yorck
and like the children OF mysterious parentage
in novels, are continually seeking to know
the name and station OF the authors of thei1
being.


''We often hear'' says Walter Savage
Landor, ''that such and such a thing is not
worth an old song. Alas! How very few
things are! What precious recollectlons do
some of them awaken! What pleasurabe
tears do they excite! They purify thestream
life; they can delay ii in its shelves and
rapids; they can turn it back again to the
soft moss amidst which its sources issue -
Yorick doesn't know where in Landor's
works this sentiment is to be found. II IS
quoted quite as much as an illustration of in
trinity Of memory as because of any Apostle.
ness it may have. The expression, it is true,
would be just as valuable if we did not know its
author. A gold coin depends upon its weight
and fineness for worth, not upon its m int.
mark though that may give ready currency
But there is great satisfaction in being able
to trace anything to its origin. One might
have piece of Gubbio ware from which The
mark had been accidentally omitted. Would
the piece be worth any more intrinsically, i
it bad upon its back the monogram of the
Maestro Giorgio Andrioli? Yet how mucl
more precious its owner would hold it!


To begin with, Yorick would like to know
the authorship of these lines:
! For in those dark and iron days of old
Arose, amid the pygnlies of their age,
| Minds of massive and gigantic mould
| Whom we must measure as the Cream sag
Measured the o, ramids Of ages past,
| BY the far reaching shadows that they cast.
| TO follow up with: Who wrote this?


Great poets never die! Their words are seeds


Which, sheltered in the hearts of take root


And geow and flourish into hgh-souled deeds


The worlds sustaining fuit.
I And who is the author of these?


Taper as candles laid at Cuthbert's shrine,
Taper silver chalices for wine,-
| Such were her arms and form.


These three queries are but a beginning
With the upquenchable ardor OF seeker af
ter knowledge Yorick goes on to these lines
| To make him strong and mighty


He drank by the tale,
| Six pots OF ale.


| And quart of aqua-vitae.


The above is to be found somewhere il
Charles Kingsley's works, and is quoted b
him. Where is this to be found?


Through sorrows night and dangers path,


amid be thickenios gloom,


The soldiers of injured king


Are marching to the tomb.


Who wrote this?


like some gallant bark


Well built and tall, which apgry tides have left
To rot and moulder in the winds and rains


OF heaven.


And here is another


ALI pale and dim. as ii from rest


The ghost of the late buried sun


| Had crept into the SKIES
The procession is long time passing a give
point-the patience of the reader. Pleas
give the author of these lines:


| hoooa