1896.]
rally round the flag of your country and stand together against
the enemies of the republic, so rally around the banner of light
which floats over these strongholds of human science and learn
ing and say to all who would injure them, within or without,
" Hands off." These great homes of learning are our heritage
from the sainted dead and the heroic past. We mean to hand
them down uninjured to the coming generations. Organize for
this work. Let all men know, students as well as others, that
you will not be parties, even by silence, to the miserable fun and
folly which would trifle with the vested rights of humanity.
Give to us older children of the colleges, as we turn for a
last glimpse of the scenes we are quitting—give to us the great
satisfaction of knowing that we are leaving our Alma Maters, the
mothers that cherished us, in the charge of other beloved disciples
who love them in their youth and will shelter them in their age
and enrich them with their wealth, and finally hand them on to
other ages unstillied in character, undiminished in power.
THE BIOGRAPHY OF A HUMORIST.
A celebrated specialist in the treatment of brain and nerve
diseases once said to a patient, " What you need is to forget your
self and thus shake off your melancholy. Mr. , the come
dian, plays to-night. He is the funniest man alive. Go and
hear him."
" Alas," said the patient hopelessly, "1 ani Mr.
The story enforces the truth that mirth and. melancholy are only
opposite sides of the same thing, Pathos and humor are found
side by side or indistinguishably intertwined because they spring
from a common root—sympathy. A shallow man, perhaps, can
babble farce; but there is no true humorist who has not haZI.
" feelings too deep for tears."
A well-known English humorist, though primarily not a
metrical writer, .has left us a little blank-verse poeth consisting
of eight three line stanzas. It might well have the caption at the
head of this column; its author entitled it
THF, OLD FAMILIAR PACES.
Where are they gone, the old familiar faces ?
I had a mother, but she died, and left me,
Died prematurely in a day of horrors—
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
The Biografihy of a Humorist