peace. Within the limits of this island alone, on every Sabbath, 20,000, yes, far more than 20,000 temples are thrown open, in which devout men and women assemble, that they may worship Him who is the "Prince of Peace.

Is this a reality? or is your Christianity a romance? is your profession a dream? No, I am sure that your Christianity is not a romance, and I am equally sure that your profession is not a dream. It is because I believe this that I appeal to you with confidence, and that I have hope and faith in the future. I believe that we shall see, and at no very distant time, sound economic principles spreading much more widely among the people; a sense of justice growing up in a soil which hitherto has been deemed unfruitful; and, which will be better than all-the churches of the United Kingdom-the churches of Britain awaking, as it were, from their slumbers, and girding up their loins to more glorious work, when they shall not only accept and believe in the prophecy, but labor earnestly for its fulfilment, that there shall come a time-a blest timea time which shall last forever-when "nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more."

FAREWELL ADDRESS*

BY HENRY CLAY

From 1806, the period of my entrance upon this noble theater, with short intervals, to the present time, I have been engaged in the public councils, at home or abroad. Of the services rendered during that long and arduous period of my life it does not become me to speak. History, if she deign to notice me, and posterity, if the recollection of my humble actions shall be transmitted to posterity, are the best, the truest, and the most impartial judges. When death has closed the scene, their sentence will be pro

*Extract of address to the United States Senate in 1842.

nounced, and to that I commit myself. My public conduct is a fair subject for the criticism and judgment of my fellow men; but the motives by which I have been prompted are known only to the great Searcher of the human heart and to myself; and I trust I may be pardoned for repeating a declaration made some thirteen years ago, that, whatever errors and doubtless there have been many-may be discovered in a review of my public service, I can with unshaken confidence appeal to that divine Arbiter for the truth of the declaration, that I have been influenced by no impure purpose, no personal motive; have sought no personal aggrandizement; but that in all my public acts I have had a single eye directed, and a warm and devoted heart dedicated, to what, in my best judgment, I believed the true interests, the honor, the union, and the happiness of my country required.

During that long period, however, I have not escaped the fate of other public men, nor failed to incur censure and detraction of the bitterest, most unrelenting, and most malignant character; and tho not always insensible to the pain it was meant to inflict, I have borne it in general with composure, and without disturbance here [pointing to his breast], waiting, as I have done, in perfect and undoubting confidence for the ultimate triumph of justice and of truth, and the entire persuasion that time would settle all things as they should be, and that whatever wrong or injustice I might experience at the hands of man, He to whom all hearts are open, and fully known, would, by the inscrutable dispensations of His providence, rectify all error, redress all wrong, and cause ample justice to be done.

But I have not, meanwhile, been unsustained. Everyere throughout the extent of this great continent, I have had cordial, warm-hearted, faithful, and devoted friends, who have known me, loved me, and appreciated my motives. To them, if language were capable of fully expressing my acknowledgments, I would now offer all the return I have the power to make for their genuine, disinterested, and persevering fidelity and devoted attachment, the feelings and sentiments of a heart overflowing with never

Sweat

ceasing gratitude. If, however, I fail in suitable language to express my gratitude to them for all the kindness they have shown me, what shall I say, what can I say, at all commensurate with those feelings of gratitude with which I have been inspired by the State whose humble representative and servant I have been in this chamber?

I emigrated from Virginia to the State of Kentucky, now nearly forty-five years ago; I went as an orphan boy, who had not yet attained the age of majority; who had never recognized a father's smile, nor felt his warm caresses; poor, penniless, without the favor of the great, with an imperfect and neglected education, hardly sufficient for the ordinary business and common pursuits of life; but scarce had I set my foot upon her generous soil when I was embraced with parental fondness, carest as tho I had been a favorite child, and patronized with liberal and unbounded munificence. From that period the highest honors of the State have been freely bestowed upon me; and when, in the darkest hour of calumny and detraction, I seemed to be assailed by all the rest of the world, she interposed her broad and impenetrable shield, repelled the poisoned shafts that were aimed for my destruction, and vindicated my good name from every malignant and unfounded aspersion. I return with indescribable pleasure to linger a while longer, and mingle with the warm-hearted and whole-souled people of that State; and when the last scene shall forever close upon me; I hope that my earthly remains will be laid under her green sod with those of her gallant and patriotic sons.

I go from this place under the hope that we shall, mutually, consign to perpetual oblivion whatever personal collisions may at any time unfortunately have occurred between us, and that our recollections shall dwell in future only on those conflicts of mind with mind, those intellectual struggles, those noble exhibitions of the powers of logic, argument, and eloquence, honorable to the Senate and to the nation, in which each has sought and contended for what he deemed the best mode of accomplishing one common object-the interest and the happiness of our beloved

country. To these thrilling and delightful scenes it will
be my pleasure and my pride to look back in my retire-
ment with unmeasured satisfaction.

3,In retiring, as I am about to do forever, from the Senate,
suffer me to express my heartfelt wishes that all the great
and patriotic objects of the wise framers of our Constitution
may be fulfilled; that the high destiny designed for it may
be fully answered; and that its deliberations, now and
hereafter, may eventuate in securing the prosperity of our
beloved country, in maintaining its rights and honor
abroad, and upholding its interests at home. I retire, P
know, at a period of infinite distress and embarrassment.
I wish I could take my leave of you under more favorable
auspices; but without meaning at this time to say whether
on any or on whom reproaches for the sad condition of the
country should fall, I appeal to the Senate and to the world
to bear testimony to my earnest and continued exertions
to avert it, and to the truth that no blame can justly attach
to me.
Cause

May the most precious blessings of heaven rest upon the whole Senate and each member of it, and may the labors of every one rebound to the benefit of the nation and the advancement of his own fame and renown. And when you shall retire to the bosom of your constituents, may you receive that most cheering and gratifying of all human rewards their cordial greeting of, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

And now, Mr. President and Senators, I bid you all-a long, a lasting, and a friendly farewell.

hopeful

Satisfied

Rindly.

THE SPIRIT OF DEVOTION*

BY ARTHUR TWINING HADLEY

And David longed, and said, Oh that one would give me to drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!

And the three mighty men brake through the host of the Philistines and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem, that was by the gate, and brought it to David; nevertheless he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the Lord.

And he said, Be it far from me, O Lord, that I should do this; is not this the blood of men that went in jeopardy of their lives? Therefore he would not drink it.

Judged by material standards, this is a tale of folly from beginning to end. It was foolish for David to utter this wish; it was doubly foolish for his captains to risk their lives to compass it; it was trebly foolish for him to waste the gift which had been won at so much risk.

I do not mean that all who read the story would criticize it in this way. In an episode like this, we instinctively feel that there is something which makes such criticism inadequate and impertinent. But when we are dealing, not with some exceptional matter of ancient history, but with this everyday world of the twentieth century, and are valuing little deeds of heroism instead of great ones, we are prone to use material standards, and call them by the specious name of common sense. We are apt to judge work by its definite and measurable results; to make these results the motive of service and the criterion of success; and to condemn as misplaced sentiment anything which sacrifices or risks a tangible manifestation of loyalty or devotion. Amid much that is good in our twentiethcentury spirit, this overvaluation of material enjoyment and of tangible success constitutes a grave danger. All the achievements of modern science and of modern democracy will be worth little if, in the long run, they teach

*From "Baccalaureate Addresses," published by Charles Scribner's Sons, copyright, 1907, by Arthur Twining Hadley.