This is especially true of the third section. This division is made up almost entirely of comments on men and affairs, short analyses of human attitudes, desultory excursions into the sociological, brief remarks on man's emotional nature, apothegms dealing with human attributes, bits of racy philosophical gossip, religious and scientific maxims, and the like. Sometimes these observations are cynical, sometimes gracious, sometimes bitter,[Pg 118] sometimes buoyant, sometimes merely witty. But all of them are welded together by a profound conception of humanity.

division of the book is the fourth, in which Nietzsche's good humour is at its height. This section is a glorification of victory and of all those hardy qualities which go into the perfecting of the individual. Nietzsche reverses Schiller's famous doctrine expressed in "Die Braut von Messina": "Life is not of all good the highest." He sees no good over and beyond that of human relationships. The normal instincts to him are the ones which affirm life; the abnormal instincts are those which deny it. The former are summed up in the ethics of Greece under the sway of Dionysus; the latter are epitomised in the Christian religion　Whether I look with a good or an evil eye upon men..

The fifth book, called "We Fearless Ones," and the appendix of "Songs of Prince Free-as-a-Bird" were written four years later than the other material and added with an introduction in a later edition of the book. These addenda, while less specific and of a more dialectic nature than the preceding parts, are in spirit manifestly the same as the rest of the book.

In "The Joyful Wisdom" we have again an aphoristic style of writing, although it has become keener and more sure of itself since "Human, All-Too-Human" and "The Dawn of Day." In making selections from this book I have chosen those passages which are more general in tone. The connection between the various aphorisms is here even slighter than is Nietzsche's wont, and for that reason no attempt has been made to present a continuous perception of the work. However, the excerpts which follow, though of a less popular nature, are more[Pg 119] intimately related to his thoughts than the ones omitted, and consequently are of more interest to the student.
 

It was all out now, and Frank's little plan was exposed. Of course a great hubbub arose at once, and Frank judged by the greeting he received that his friends were just as glad to see him as he was to see them. Lucas and Barton met with an equally cordial reception from their friends in the forecastle, who were not a little surprised to find that one of them had worked his way to the quarter-deck during his absence.

Frank had a long story to tell, and it took him a long time to tell it. When it was ended, Uncle Dick and the Club had a good many questions to ask, and it took a long time to answer them; so that the two vessels remained alongside the greater part of the day. During that time boat's crews were exchanged, some of the schooner's company[325] going off to visit the ship, and some of her crew coming back to visit the Stranger.

As soon as the conversation began to flag Frank spoke of the needs of the wounded captain, asking for some of the good things with which the Stranger was so amply provided; but Uncle Dick had something better to propose. "Write an order to your mate to send him off here," said he. "I have a medicine-chest, plenty of lint and bandages, and long experience has made me a passable physician and surgeon. I can take better care of him than you can, and perhaps he will feel easier when he is out of reach of his men　From thecrest ofa waveon which hestruck.."

Frank was only too glad to accept this kind offer, for he knew that the wounded man would be benefited by the change. He sent off an order to Mr. Gale, and half an hour afterward Captain Barclay was comfortably settled in the Stranger's cabin. He was delighted with his elegant quarters, and repeatedly declared that he did not deserve the treatment he received. If he was ever able to take[326] the quarter-deck again he would be a different man.

His story told and all questions asked and answered, the young captain made ready to return to his ship. Of course all the boys went with him. Frank warned them that he could not give them such food or such quarters as they had on board the Stranger, but they didn't care for that. They wanted to see the Tycoon, and they made Frank promise, over and over again, that if the opportunity were offered, he would show them the operation of catching a whale. The Club tried to induce the trappers to go with them, but their entreaties and arguments fell on deaf ears. Dick and Bob knew that the Stranger was a safe boat, but they did not like to trust the Tycoon, and so thought it best to remain where they were.

"Brace for'ard main yard," said Frank, when all the whaler's boats had been hoisted at the davits. "Eugene, you said you couldn't understand how it came that you reached the Sandwich Islands three[327] days after we did. Now I'll show you. Set studding sails, Mr. Gale."

Eugene very soon found out why it was. The Stranger was considered to be remarkably swift for a small vessel, but the big Tycoon sailed two miles to her one, and at daylight the next morning the schooner was out of sight.

Frank being impatient to reach Honolulu, did not go out of his way to find whales. According to promise he kept the mast-head manned, but to no purpose. in the hope of hearing the welcome cry, "There she blows!" but not a whale was to be seen. Mr. Gale told them that the reason was because they offered no inducement. It was the practice of whalers under such circumstances as these, he said, to put up a prize of some kind to go to the man who discovered the first spout. He had known a whale to rise in less than two minutes after a pair of trowsers had been hung up in the rigging.

"O, if that's the trouble, we'll raise so many[328] that you won't know which to go after first," said Archie; "who's got any money?"

All the boys happened to have a little in their pockets, and by clubbing together they raised sufficient to purchase one of the best suits of clothing in the slop-chest—hat, boots and all—which was hung up in plain view of the crew. But the offer of a dozen suits would not have enabled the men to see whales where there were none, and Frank took the ship into Honolulu without having the opportunity to gratify his friends, who were greatly disappointed. The Stranger was not in port, but she came shortly afterward, and by that time the Tycoon's business was settled. She passed through the consul's hands, the crew were paid off and discharged and a new captain assumed command and made ready to take her to the States. As soon as the Stranger came in, Uncle Dick's charge was carried to the hospital, and Frank never heard of him afterward. He never heard of Mr. Gale either after he took leave of him. The last time he saw him he was second mate of the Tycoon.

Frank dropped the line, which seemed like a coal of fire in his hands, and the men laid out their strength on the oars till they fairly snapped. The first stroke stopped the boat's headway and the second started her on the back track, but not in time to escape the danger that threatened her. Before Lucas could throw his harpoon the whale's jaw swept around like a scythe, and striking the boat in the side overturned her in an instant, smashing in the planks as if they had been pasteboard, and tumbling those of the crew who did not jump .

 Frank turned to look at the whale and see what had become of his companions. The monster was bringing his tail into play now. With one fierce upward sweep of his huge flukes he lifted the battered boat out of the water, and the captain, who had clung to the wreck, was going up with it. The air seemed to be literally filled with pieces of planks, harpoons, ropes and lances. The crew had all escaped without injury—at least they were all able to swim, for Frank counted four frightened faces bobbing about on the waves near him. He had some idea now of the strength and ferocity a whale could display when he once set about it. He made up his mind, too, that men must be simply foolhardy to willingly follow any such business as[202] whaling. Otherwise how could they bring themselves to engage with such a monster as this, against whose tremendous power, which he had just seen exerted with such telling effect, their strength was as nothing　From the crest of a wave on which he struck.?

To say that Frank was frightened would not begin to tell how he felt. How helpless he was! How completely the waves baffled his mad efforts to get out of the reach of his dangerous foe, and how like straws they seemed in the path of the whale which skimmed through them as easily as a bird passes through the air! Then how frightened everybody else was, if he might judge by the pale faces he saw about him, and the frantic attempts the men made to swim away. If those who were accustomed to such scenes and such dangers were so nearly overcome with terror, it was time for a novice to show signs of fear.

"Look out, Nelson!" cried Lucas, suddenly. "Look out! He's——"

Toulouse, the head-quarters of the 17th Army Corps, is the military centre for the departments of Ariege, Haute-Garonne, Gers, Lot, Lot-et-Garonne, and Tarn-et-Garonne. The town is peculiarly liable to great floods, and those of 1855, which swept away the suspension bridge of St. Pierre, and of 1875, which destroyed 7000 houses and drowned 300 people, are still remembered in the city. It is situated 478 miles south of Paris and 160 miles south-east from Bordeaux, and, with a population of about 150,000, ranks as the metropolis of Southern France.

Tours, the head-quarters of the 9th Army Corps, is situated 145 miles south-west from Paris by rail, and is the military centre for the departments of Maine-et-Loire, Indre-et-Loire, Deux-Sèvres, and Vienne. Under the Gauls it was the capital of the Turones, from whom it derived the name which it still bears, and traces of Roman occupation still remain in the form of the ancient amphitheatre. After the fall of Roman power, Tours was fortified against barbarian invasion, and subsequently it was closely connected with the great names of French history, notably those of Clovis, who presented rich gifts to the church at Tours out of the spoils won from Alaric and the Goths, and with Charlemagne, who disciplined its monasteries. Few towns surpass Tours in historic interest, and it is noteworthy in modern times, as the birthplace of Balzac and the two Marshals Boucicaut. In 1870 the government of the national defence was established at Tours, and the Third Republic may thus be said to have had its birth here　The EndAs to active service in the French Army..

No list of the great garrisons of France would be complete without a reference to Verdun and Toul, the ends of the great chain of fortresses which defend the eastern frontier. Toul, 14 miles to the west of Nancy, is the centre of a vast network of entrenchments and defences, and the hills surrounding the town are crowned with forts which command all the country within range to the east. A series of forts, echeloning along the ridge of the Meuse, connect Toul with Verdun, and forms a defensive line which is only equalled in strength by the defences of Paris, as far as the French military defensive system is concerned. Verdun, at the northern end of the line of frontier defences, is surrounded by a ring of detached forts, eleven in number, and occupying a circumference of 25 miles. Since the loss of Metz to Germany, Verdun has been so strengthened as to form the most formidable fortress in France.

One of the principal effects of a conscript system such as that of France is that the great majority of the population of the country is characterised by fixed habits and ideas with regard to the way in which work should be done. The Latin races are all marked by a certain flexibility and dexterity of mind, a quickness of apprehension which is absent, for the most part, from other Caucasian stock, and military training increases this and applies it to physical use as well as to mental qualities. The conscript, back in civilian life at the end of his training, is to be compared to the sailor of the British Navy in many respects; he has learned a certain handiness, a dexterity in connection with his daily work, and it is a lesson that stays with him, as a rule, to the end of his life.

While military service alters, it does not create; the stolid Breton—stolid by comparison with the men of central and Southern France, remains stolid as before he went up for training, for the Army has grafted on him nothing that is new—it has merely added to his knowledge and developed, in the way of characteristics, what was already there. But the Breton is the better for his two years—without them he would be a very stolid and unimaginative person indeed, and he has learned to stir himself, to make the best of himself and the work that is his to perform. Similarly the traditional Frenchman, coming from the wine-growing districts of the south, and a hot-headed and impetuous individual, has his eccentricities modified, for hot-headedness does not pay in military service, and this man has learned to control himself just as the Breton has acquired a little more rapidity of movement. Yet the individual characteristics of the two types remain; personal traits have been modified by discipline, but not destroyed, for while the Army of the Republic creates nothing, it also annihilates nothing.  to a pattern, but they are the same men in essence, with no quality removed altogether. Usually, they are vastly improved.

 

But thirty years have elapsed since the death of Daniel Webster, and there is already danger that, so far as young people are concerned, he will become an historic reminiscence. Schoolboys, who declaim the eloquent extracts from his speeches which are included in all the school speakers, are indeed able to form some idea of his great oratorical powers and the themes which called them forth; but I have found that young classical students, as a rule, know more of Cicero’s life than of his. It seems to me eminently fitting that the leading incidents in the life of our great countryman, his struggles for an education, the steps by which he rose to professional and political distinction, should be made familiar to American boys. I have therefore essayed a “story biography,” which I have tried to write in such a manner as to make it attractive to young people, who are apt to turn away from ordinary biographies, in the fear that they may prove dull.
Webster’s life is so crowded with great services and events, it is so interwoven with the history of the nation, that to give a fair idea of him in a volume of ordinary size is almost impossible. I have found it necessary to leave out some things, and to refer briefly to others, lest my book should expand to undue proportions. Let me acknowledge then, with the utmost frankness, that my work is incomplete, and necessarily so. This causes me less regret, because those whom I may be fortunate enough to interest in my subject will readily find all that they wish to know in the noble Life of Webster, by George Ticknor Curtis, the captivating Reminiscences, by Peter Harvey, the Private Correspondence, edited by Fletcher Webster, and the collection of Mr. Webster’s speeches, edited by Mr. Everett. They will also find interesting views of Mr. Webster’s senatorial career in the Reminiscences of Congress, by Charles W. March.
If this unpretending volume shall contribute in any way to extend the study of Mr. Webster’s life and works, I shall feel that my labor has been well bestowed　The EndAs to active service in the French Army..

Horatio Alger, Jr.


“Where are you going, Daniel?”

“To Mr. Hoyt’s store.”

“I’ll go in with you. Where is ’Zekiel this morning?”

“I left him at work on the farm.”

“I suppose you will both be farmers when you grow up?”

“I don’t know,” answered Daniel, thoughtfully. “I don’t think I shall like it, but there isn’t anything else to do in Salisbury.”

“You might keep a store, and teach school like Master Hoyt.”

“Perhaps so. I should like it better than farming.”

Daniel was but eight years old, a boy of strik
ing appearance, with black hair and eyes, and a swarthy complexion. He was of slender frame, and his large dark eyes, deep set beneath an overhanging brow, gave a singular appearance to the thin face of the delicate looking boy.

He was a farmer’s son, and lived in a plain, old-fashioned house, shaded by fine elms, and separated from the broad, quiet street by a fence. It was situated in a valley, at the bend of the Merrimac, on both sides of which rose high hills, which the boy climbed many a time for the more extended view they commanded. From a high sheep-pasture on his father’s farm, through a wide opening in the hills, he could see on a clear day Brentney Mountain in Vermont, and in a different direction the snowy top of Mount Washington, far away to the northeast.