Here is still another member of that sacred phalanx who, in the battle of
life, always march in front for the example and the salvation of the
world! Each of these brave soldiers has his war-cry; for this one it is
"Country," for that "Home," for a third "Mankind;" but they all follow
the same standard--that of duty; for all the same divine law reigns--that
of self-sacrifice. To love something more than one's self--that is the
secret of all that is great; to know how to live for others--that is the
aim of all noble souls.




CHAPTER XI

MORAL USE OF INVENTORIES

November 13th, Nine O'clock P.M.

I had well stopped up the chinks of my window; my little carpet was
nailed down in its place; my lamp, provided with its shade, cast a
subdued light around, and my stove made a low, murmuring sound, as if
some live creature was sharing my hearth with me.

All was silent around me. But, out of doors the snow and rain swept the
roofs, and with a low, rushing sound ran along the gurgling gutters;
sometimes a gust of wind forced itself beneath the tiles, which rattled
together like castanets, and afterward it was lost in the empty corridor.
Then a slight and pleasurable shiver thrilled through my veins: I drew
the flaps of my old wadded dressing-gown around me, I pulled my