strain his throat in a madly joyous endeavour to out-carol all the rest.
It is a chorus of praise such as none other of earth's children have the
voice or the heart to utter. As I listen, I am carried away by its
glorious rapture; my being melts in the tenderness of an impassioned joy;
my eyes are dim with I know not what profound humility.



XXII.


Were one to look at the literary journals only, and thereafter judge of
the time, it would be easy to persuade oneself that civilization had
indeed made great and solid progress, and that the world stood at a very
hopeful stage of enlightenment. Week after week, I glance over these
pages of crowded advertisement; I see a great many publishing-houses
zealously active in putting forth every kind of book, new and old; I see
names innumerable of workers in every branch of literature. Much that is
announced declares itself at once of merely ephemeral import, or even of
no import at all; but what masses of print which invite the attention of
thoughtful or studious folk! To the multitude is offered a long
succession of classic authors, in beautiful form, at a minimum cost;
never were such treasures so cheaply and so gracefully set before all who
can prize them. For the wealthy, there are volumes magnificent; lordly
editions; works of art whereon have been lavished care and skill and
expense incalculable. Here is exhibited the learning of the whole world
and of all the ages; be a man's study what it will, in these columns, at
one time or another he shall find that which appeals to him. Here are
labours of the erudite, exercised on every subject that falls within
learning's scope. Science brings forth its newest discoveries in earth