THE HESPERIAN.
mics have recoiled upon them, and Parncll stands today
without a single crime laid at his door. In every age men
have suffered because they performed their duty, and even if
Parncll had been convicted by his enemies vc should still sus
pend judgment when we remember that "to Socrates they
gave the hemlock! Gracchus they killed with sticks and
stones, and One, greatest and purest of all, they crucified."
Let England point to her Gladstone, the champion of lib
eral movements, who has ever been a stalwart defender of the
liberties of Englishmen. Hut he appealed to the sword in
order that British capitalists might wring an almost impos
sible tribute from unhappy Egypt. He was at the same time
the guardian of the Englishman and the enslaver of the
Egyptian. Let Germany point to her Bismarck, who, by the
sheer weight of his mighty intellect, has built up that magni
ficent empire, but who will ever be remembered for his policy
of "blood and iron." He, while making her united, stamped
out freedom in Germany. Let France point to her Napoleon
who carried his banners in triumph over evqry land from burn
ing Egypt to snow bound Russia from sunny spain to plague
swept Syria; whose success olten dazzles by its brightness.
Yet his name recalls a despotism almost as oppressive as the
one that the Revolution swept away, and blood marked every
step of his triumphant career. Let America point to her
Washington, but he, while battling nobly for the rights of the
white man, was himself an owner of slaves. Erin points to
Parnell, who has ever championed the cause of the
oppressed; who has never been instrumental in depriving any
person of life or of liberty; whose victories arc victories of
peace; whose name has never been associated with deeds of
bloodshed and violence; whose whole energy has been
expended in an effort to benefit his fellow men.
John B. Fogaiity.
LITERARY.
Sames Lane Allen's "Legend of the Beautiful" contrib
uted to the March Century is a most interesting narrative.
Nothing could be more delicate, more pathetic than the story
he relates. It is a simple account of the love of one Nicholas
Vane who wished to commemorate the excellences of the de
ceased one who had inspired his love. The ulterior purpose
of the writer is to illustrate the futility of seeking posthum
ous fame.
Nicholas Yane was a young man who was known far and
near for his skill in carving monuments. Not alone did friends
of the deceased seek him to secure a suitable monument for
the departed; those yet far removed from bcath came to him
to sec that a befitting work of art should announce fo coming
generations their various excellencies. Among the throng
came the poet, who asked but for the common lot, and yet
despaired of winning fame by the met it of his verse alone.
The veteran came, unwilling that his bravery should fail to
win its lasting meed of praise; he, it is true, felt that the
sense of duty done was its own reward f but the longing felt by
all to live in the memory of coming generations made him
desire that his brave deeds shall be commemorated in en
during marble. The minister, fresh from writing his most
eloquent sermon, exhorting his followers to strive that their
names should be written, not on earthly monuments but in
the Book of Life, came to order an imposing shaft to be made
that should recall him to the minds of men when his sermons
and prayers had long been forgotten.
Among the rest came one evening to Nicholas shop, a
beautiful girl whom he had never seen before. Death had J
already marked her for a victim. She, too, came feeling that
her death would blot out from the memory of her associates
all thought of what she had once been. But feeling that
mere beauty is that which is most loved and soonest forgot
ten; she desired no striking monument to preserve her mem
ory; only a simple slab that would remain unobserved. She
passed fiom his shop and standing there in the twilight, over
come by admiration and love for the beautiful creature who
had suffered so much and was so soon to die, he resolved to
erect such a monument to her memory that all who should
sec it would never forget her who lay beneath. When she
had died and his monument was erected over her grave, pas
sers by saw naught upon it but her name. They wondered
mtlch at this; but Nicholas explained that she was perfect,
not alone in outward form but also in heart, so his monument
was pleasing to the eye and concealed within it a fitting epi
taph. He thought that by thus casting about the monument
an air of mystery, the memory of her and her good deeds
would be perpetuated more than by parading her virtues be
fore the vulgar gaze. '
Many years passed by. Nicholas Vane, now an old man,
returned to the home of his youth. In the graveyard was a
body of people idly gazing at the tombs. The poet, the
soldier, the minister, they had forgotten; they laughingly
asked what these had done to deserve remembrance. Nicho
las approached the band grieved at their irreverence. He
asked them if in all that ccmetry there was one tombstone
that kept green the memory of the one for whom it was
erected. They answered that there was one widely renowned
in all the country round. It was the tomb of her whom he
had loved. Gratified at the fulfillment of his design he hast
ened thither with the band of interested observers. What
was his surprise and grief when they told him the popular
belief concerning the monument and its mystery. This mon
ument placed here by him, his masterpiece of sculpture, to
hallow the memory of his loved one, had been, according to
the popular account, erected by a betrayed lover, the out
ward appearance symbolical of her beauty, the mysterious
epitaph within an execration on her unfaithfulness. The old
man was stunned at this revelation; the greatest effort of his
life had ignominiously failed. That very night, amid the
shrieking of a mighty storm, nature seemingly sympathizing
with the tempest in his own soul, the old man shattered with
heavy blows the monument a.id the mysterious epitaph
within. Thus was the memory of the beautiful girl shrouded
over with eternal mystery.
There is something attractive in the way the author has
related his simple narrative. Little effort on his part is no
ticeable. The story unfolds gradually, each clement enter
ing into it being introduced just at the proper point. There
is eloquence in its simplicity, the almost total absence of the
appearance of premeditated effort. The author displays no
mean ability in marshalling the proper forces for the climax
of his narrative. It teaches a moral lesson in showjng the
uncertainty of posthumous fame. It is a most interesting
narrative by reason of its simplicity and its pathos.
The phenomenal sale of Edward Bellamy's "Looking
Backward" lends interest for the present tohis othci novels.
It is not literary merit alone that has made"Looking Back
ward" so popular, but the fact that it enunciates what has
been, more or less formulated, in the minds of the misses for
some time. To obtain an idea of Bellamy's literary merit, it
is necessary to use as a standard those works into wnich the
shirk of propogandism does not so largely enter. Of this
class of works is the novel known by the homely title, "Miss
:
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