spread over my uncongenial life during the years we lived at that savage place, where my two immediate predecessors had gone mad, and a third had taken to drink.

EACH AND ALL.

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

LITTLE thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown

Of thee, from the hilltop looking down;

The heifer that lows in the upland farm

Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm;

The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,
Deems not that great Napoleon

Stops his horse, and lists with delight

Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height;

Nor knowest thou what argument

Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent.
All are needed by each one-
Nothing is fair or good alone.

The delicate shells lay on the shore;
The bubbles of the latest wave
Fresh pearls to their enamel gave,
And the bellowing of the savage sea
Greeted their safe escape to me.

I wiped away the weeds and foam

I fetched my sea-born treasures home;

But the poor, unsightly, noisome things

Had left their beauty on the shore,

With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar.

The lover watched his graceful maid,

As 'mid the virgin train she strayed;

Nor knew her beauty's best attire

Was woven still by the snow-white choir.
At last she came to his hermitage,

Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;
The gay enchantment was undone

A gentle wife, but fairy none.

Then I said: "I covet truth;

Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat;

I leave it behind with the games of youth.".

As I spoke, beneath my feet

The ground pine curled its pretty wreath,
Running over the club-moss burrs;

I inhaled the violet's breath;

Around me stood the oaks and firs;

Pine cones and acorns lay on the ground;

Over me soared the eternal sky,
Full of light and of deity;

Again I saw, again I heard,

The rolling river, the morning bird;
Beauty through my senses stole -

I yielded myself to the perfect whole.

WOMEN AND MEN.1

BY THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON.

[THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON: An American writer; born in Cambridge, Mass., December 22, 1823. He was graduated from Harvard in arts in 1841 and in divinity in 1847, and entered the Unitarian ministry, from which he retired in 1858 to devote himself to literature. At the breaking out of the Civil War he recruited several companies of Massachusetts volunteers, and in 1862 organized and became colonel of the first regiment of colored soldiers to enter the army, and served until 1864, when a wound rendered it necessary for him to retire. Among his published works are: “Outdoor Papers" (1863), “Malbone: an Oldport Romance" (1869), "Army Life in a Black Regiment" (1870), "Atlantic Essays" (1871), "Oldport Days" (1873), "Young Folks' History of the United States " (1875), "Brief Biographies of European Public Men" (4 vols., 1875-1877), "History of Education in Rhode Island" (1876), "Young Folks' Book of American Explorers" (1877), "Short Studies of American Authors" (1880), "Common Sense about Women" (1882), “Margaret Fuller Ossoli"

1 Copyright, 1888, by Harper and Brothers. Used by permission.

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(1884), “A Larger History of the United States" (1886), "Travelers and Outlaws" (1889), Concerning All of Us" (1892), "The New World and the New Book" (1892), and many essays, sermons, and translations.]

VACATIONS FOR SAINTS.

"IT is so tiresome," said once a certain lady of my acquaintance, "to be a saint all the time! There ought to be vacations." And as it was once my pleasant lot to be the housemate of a saint when enjoying one of these seasons of felicity, I know what my friend meant by it. The saint in question was one of the most satisfactory and unquestionable of her class; she was the wife of a country clergyman, a woman of superb physique, great personal attractiveness, and the idol of her husband's large parish, from oldest to youngest. I had always supposed it to be mere play for her to be a saint, but you could see what her life in that direction had cost her by the way she took her vacation, as you know how the bow has been bent when you see the motion of the arrow. Off from her shapely shoulders fell the whole world of ministers' meetings, and missionary meetings, and mothers' meetings. I do not know why they all begin with an m, unless it is because that letter, by its very shape, best designates that which is reiterated and interminable. Be that as it may, they all dropped from her; and she danced about the halls of her girlhood, the gayest of the gay. How indignantly she declined the offer of a ticket to a certain very instructive historical lecture! "Do not offer me anything intellectual," she indignantly said, "on a week like this. If you have a ticket to anything improper, bring me that. I think I should like to see the Black Crook'! It appeared, upon inquiry, that she had never witnessed that performance, and had only a general impression that it was a little naughty. But the proposal certainly indicated a kind of "Saints' Rest" which would greatly have amazed Mr. Richard Baxter.

The present writer, never having been a saint, cannot speak from personal experience; but his sympathies are often thoroughly aroused for those who belong to this neglected class. It is a shame not to recognize needs like theirs. Why do we all spend our strength on organizing Country Weeks in summer for people who need to get out of the city, and not also undertake City Weeks in winter for people who need to get into the city? Why forever preach "plain living and high