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mously in proportion, which simply shows the freedom with which they exposed themselves in leading. Were the losses in the ranks analyzed, it would be found that they were heavy in proportion to education and intelligence, those excelling in these quali fications most closely following the officers. Hence the argument that among the best men of Germany the loss has been heaviest, and the sequence is clear that the country in the future must feel it severely. To un

gree formidable. It is hard to govern a thoroughly discontented dependency under any circumstances, but infinitely harder to govern it under the eyes of a bitterly critical neighbour who has the ear of the world. However much we may recognize the great qualities of the German people, we cannot but see that there are many German peculiarities which a thoroughly unfriendly censor may succeed in so describing as to make them contemptible or hateful. Neither the kings nor the nobles nor the bureau- derstand the full effect, the Prussian system cracy nor the literary men nor the middle class are exempt from weaknesses which it would cost little to French criticism to make the sport of the world. But the great weapon of French literature would be the aggravation of actually existing discontent. In these days of universal publicity there is no nation which does not suffer extreme discomfort from the knowledge that she is suspected of oppressing a province or a dependency. Great Britain is singularly callous to foreign opinion, and yet the approval of the " intelligent foreigner" was promised us as the chief reward of recent Irish legislation of which a good deal was not to our national taste. Russia takes manifest pains to seem unconcerned as to what Europe may think of her administration of Poland; yet the signs of malaise may be clearly read in the affected nationalism of her literature and her press. But discontents which are merely an annoyance to a despotically governed country, or to a country of assured freedom, may prove the cruellest of trials in the infancy of free government.

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should be known, which freely uses in all grades men occupying civil posts requiring training, taken from enterprises, firms, and industrial occupations necessitating a finished apprenticeship and education; and these are the men who have been buried in thousands around Metz and Sedan. But let us go down, and glance at what Prussia's loss is in the rest. There is to be found not only her intellect, her education, her high professional and mechanical training, but her bone and sinew. The men sent to the front are physically the most powerful, and in the flower of their age. The mode adopted is not to marry until they have served their military term; and in the ranks may be seen thousands of the lately married. In their loss Germany will be struck a severe blow, and, after the Fatherland, the loss will fall on the United States. We may never ascertain accurately ― indeed, never can - the blow thus dealt to Germany, but it will be very severe, and felt for many years to come. It has become a saying in, other countries, more especially the Anglo-Saxon nations, that their mauvais sujets are food for powder. The Germans, however, have grouped the best in the land, physically, morally, and mentally, as their food for powder; nor have they confined themselves to this sacrifice of the flower of the nation, but have added to the sacrifice THE Berlin Börzen Zeitung says "the through other means. The higher the menpresent war has shown anew how great tal training, the more careful the nurture, is the advantage which the German army the less is the individual fitted for the physipossesses above all others by means of the cal exercise of marching with heavy packs, volunteers who serve for one year, as not for sustaining that strain on bad and insuffionly does the presence of some 40,000 or cient food, and enduring the hardship of 50,000 young men of high culture tend to sleeping on the bare ground in heavy rain. raise the tone of the army, but they furnish The agricultural labourer will survive, an inexhaustible supply of officers. Besides while he who studied for years the most these, there are at least 100,000 young men abstruse sciences will succumb; and it is in the army who have received a liberal probable that Germany will lose intellects education, although they have been unable which would have added to her fame, and to pass the examination which would have thrown a light to lighten the world, by a entitled them to serve only for one year, bullet through the brain, or succumbing and they form the cement which binds Prus- under dysentery and disease. There is sian and North German troops together." something in such a warfare as is waged by The officers, although indistinguishable by Germany most painful in its consequences dress from the men, have suffered enor- to the nation. But the shades are lost in

From The Anglo-American Times.
WHAT THE GERMANS LOSE.

the glare of this wonderfully successful war, | into the old channel; there are enterprises, to come out all the darker when the national all the clues, to which were in hands now eyes cease to be dazzled, and become ac- buried in the soil of France; and the aggrecustomed to the unusual glitter. Then the gate of these private failures caused by the truth will come home that the price has war will make up a great national loss. It been heavy, not merely in the family ties will be on the return of the victorious army rent asunder, in the prosperous thousands that Germany will begin to realize what the consigned to indigence, in the mourning cost has been. Thousands will come back and the tears, which, for years, will con- to find their business gone, and hundreds tinue to be shed, but in the marked check of enterprises will languish, or fail, for lack to the material and scientific progress of of the directing brain. In every land the the country. The most intricate of all ma- rush of Germans to the war has left a void chinery is the working of the great commu- in the places made by years of toil, to fill nity we call a nation. Derangements, even up as a sinking ship is filled by the sea, and the most trivial, scatter ruin, and are not those places may know the Germans no easily repaired. Of all derangements war more. Painful as this is to contemplate, it is the worst, not only to the invaded, but is not without its bright side; for it will to the invaders, more especially when or- impress all its bitterness on the most thinkganized as is the army of Germany. The ing of nations, and give them a horror of national life is temporarily stopped; the war. While teaching France what a vanity Germans imagine to go on as before when military glory is, by the very act of acquir again set in motion; but, unless we mis- ing that military glory herself, Germany take, they will not find it so. There are rising will learn that it is only gained by drops manufactures which will never recover the wrung from the heart of a nation — that, blow; there are trades diverted which may, next to the vanquished, the field of Victory if the war be prolonged, never get back is the saddest sight to the conqueror.

Ir was well said by Lord Russell that a proverb was "the experience of many and the wit of one" His lordship might have added that the wit of one often adds to the sad experience of the many, for proverbs are too often exaggerated to laws and made the excuses of the most heinous crimes. The Times, for instance, speaking of the atrocities alleged to have been committed by the Bavarians at the village of Bazeilles, says: "We may as well hope that wars will altogether cease to be made as that they will ever be made with rose-water." We all know that wars are not made with rosewater; nor was chivalry thus manufactured, yet it would not have roasted women and children alive and pushed them back into the fire with bayonets, or tied the hands of women and shot them; and these are the atrocities alleged to have been committed by the Bavarian troops. The allegation may be untrue, but still it has been made, and should either be contradicted or those who perpetrated these barbarities should receive the punishment which is their due. War is and must be horrible, but the rose-water saying should be used with extreme caution. There is a passage in the "Reflector," published in the year 1750, well worth attention at the present moment. "The ancients," says the "Reflector," "made as unjust wars as the moderns, the differences consisting in the manner of conducting them. The ancients bluntly entered upon their unjust wars without pretext, pre

amble, or colour assigned; but the politer mcderns first give notice by manifesto, protest their own innocence, and show the necessity which, against their will, compels them to arms. Nay, we sometimes beg the Divine permission to ravage a country. This appears by the days set apart to implore success to our arms, and the numerous modern declarations of war, wherein the Almighty is called to witness that force is used unwillingly, and that the contending Powers are heartily sorry they are obliged to disturb the public peace. If Alexander the Great had thus called Jupiter to witness how unwilling his pacific temper was to disturb the peace of the world, and declared his hearty sorrow to be forced to take up arms against his brother Darius, what would the philosophers of those times what would Aristotle have thought of such a manifesto?

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NUMBERS OF THE LIVING AGE WANTED.

The publishers are in want of Nos. 1179 and 1180 (dated respectively Jan. 5th and Jan. 12th, 1867) of THE LIVING AGE. To cubscribers, or others, who will do us the favor to send us either or both of those numbers, we will return an equivalent, either in our publications or in cash, until our wants are supplied.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY

LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON.

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FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money.

Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars.

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Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers.

PREMIUMS FOR CLUBS.

For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in numbers, price $10.

TO THEE.

I BRING my sins to Thee,
The sins I cannot count,
That all may cleansed be

In Thy once-opened Fount.

I bring them, Saviour, all to Thee;
The burden is too great for me.

My heart to Thee I bring,
The heart I cannot read,
A faithless wandering thing,
An evil heart indeed.

I bring it, Saviour, now to Thee,
That fixed and faithful it may be.

To Thee I bring my care,
The care I cannot flee;
Thou wilt not only share,

But take it all for me.

O loving Saviour, now to Thee

I bring the load that wearies me.

I bring my grief to Thee,
The grief I cannot tell;
No words shall needed be,

Thou knowest all so well.
I bring the sorrow laid on me,
O suffering Saviour, all to Thee.

My joys to Thee I bring,

The joys Thy love has given,
That each may be a wing

To lift me nearer heaven.
I bring them, Saviour, all to Thee,
Who hast procured them all for me.

My life I bring to Thee,

I would not be my own;
O Saviour, let me be

Thine ever, Thine alone!

My heart, my life, my all I bring

To Thee, my Saviour and my King.

SONNET..

Sunday Magazine.

My life was like a tranquil stream that flowed, Shielded by shelt'ring boughs from storm and heat,

Between low banks, sloping from meadows sweet,

Where sheep-bells clinked and idle cattle lowed; While on its surface morning's pure light showed

No movement harsher than the eddying curl Round some weed-tangled stone, or dancing whirl

Where rushes thickened; till above me glowed
The fierce light of thy love, which fiercer grew,
Till at high noon there gathered all around
A lurid storm-glare, and the scene I knew
Changed all its aspect. With a restless sound
The troubled stream, rising, o'erawept the lea;
Then a mad torrent thundered to the sea.

Tinsley's Magazine.

BINDING SHEAVES.

BY JEAN INGELOW.

HARK! a lover binding sheaves
To his maiden sings;
Flutter, flutter go the leaves,
Larks drop their wings.

Little brooks for all their mirth
Are not blithe as he.

"Give me what the love is worth
That I give thee.

"Speech that cannot be forborne,
Tells the story through:

I sowed my love in with the corn,
And they both grew.

Count the world full wide of girth,
And hived honey sweet,

But count the love of more worth
Laid at thy feet.

"Money's worth is house and land, Velvet coat and vest.

Work's worth is bread in hand,
Ay, and sweet rest.

Wilt thou learn what love is worth?
Ah! she sits above,

Sighing, Weigh me not with earth, Love's worth is love.'"

THE LONG WHITE SEAM.

BY JEAN INGELOW.

As I came round the harbour buoy,
The lights began to gleam,

No wave the land-locked harbour stirred,
The crags were white as cream;

And I marked my love by candlelight
Sewing her long white seam.

It's aye sewing ashore, my dear,
Watch and steer at sea,

It's reef and furl, and haul the line,
Set sail and think of thee.

I climbed to reach her cottage door;
O sweetly my love sings;

Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth,
My soul to meet it springs,

As the shining water leaped of old
When stirred by angel wings.
Aye longing to list anew,

Awake and in iny dream,
But never a song she sang like this,
Sewing her long white seam.

Fair fall the lights, the harbour lights,
That brought me in to thee,

And peace drop down on that low roof,
For the sight that I did see,

And the voice, my dear, that rang so clear,
All for the love of me.

For O, for 0, with brows bent low,
By the flickering candle's gleam,
Her wedding gown it was she wrought,
Sewing the long white seam.

From The London Quarterly Review.

ALBERT DURER.*

In the architectural aspect of cities, as in other things, "the old order changeth, giving place to new," and doubtless, on the whole, the change is right and lawful. But even to those who can acknowledge the advantage of wide and healthy streets, of increased facilities for locomotion - who recognize that each succeeding generation has the first claim to the accommodation which the world affords - -even to those there is something often inexpressibly sad in the rapid disappearance of the relics of the past. There are cities - Paris in chief - whose topography occupies a place in the history of mankind, and whose memories are harshly disturbed by wholesale demolition, and the substitution of those rectilinear streets that are rather monotonous in an art point of view," as M Thiers once said. There are others, like Rouen, where the stucco and plate-glass of to-day harmonize ill with the grey tones and quaint diversity of former times; and others again, like Florence, which are suffering from the influx of a new population and the erection of suburban villas. Much of the change is inevitable; some of it, as we said, is right. But still it is impossible to watch without regret the parting of the visible links that bind us to the past, the transformation of the scenes among which our forefathers played their part in life's drama.

rock itself being set in the midst of a dry but fertile plain. It is a town of narrow streets and unsymmetrical houses houses with high-pitched red roofs, and overhanging "dormer" windows; a town breathing of thrift and industry, whose peculiar character Mr. Ruskin has defined as a "self-restrained, contented, quaint domesticity." In one respect, indeed, the place has changed since the fifteenth century. Then it was a busy manufacturing and commercial centre.

"Nuremberg's hand

Goes through every land,"

Its

was the proud saying of the citizens.
wares were sent to every market in Chris-
tendom. Now its manufactures are quite
unimportant, and commerce flows through
other channels. But, even with this deduc-
tion, there are still enough of the old ele-
ments to enable us to picture to ourselves
the free imperial city of those days, to
people it with its busy burghers and comely
house-wives, to conjure up its paternal gov
ernment of Rath (or Council) and its many
guilds.

And the account which Albert Dürer him

self has left of his parentage and carlier years comes to us fraught with the spirit that dwelt in those old walls. There is a pathos in its homeliness and simplicity; and, moreover, it throws so gentle a light upon the artist's own mind, and contains so succinct Fortunately, however, in the case of the and yet so real a record, that we shall not great German artist of the Reformation, we venture to weaken it, as Mrs. Heaton has are not reduced to a painful conjecturing done, by a paraphrase. It will be observed of the outward influences by which he was that he never mentions his father without surrounded. What Nuremberg was when some expression of endearment or respect. Albert Dürer occupied the house in the Zis-The "family history," drawn up in 1524, sel-strasse that still bears his name, it still when the writer was fifty-three, runs as is in its essential features:—a town pic- follows: — turesque and irregular, huddled within its fortifications at the foot of a sand-stone rock which is surmounted by a castle, the

"I, Albrecht Dürer, the younger, have sought out, from among my father's papers, these particulars of him, where he came from, and how he lived and died holily. God rest his soul! Amen.

1. The History of the Life of Albrecht Durer of Nurnberg, with Translation of his Letters and "Albrecht Dürer, the elder, was born in the Journal, and some Account of his Works. By Mrs. kingdom of Hungary.. at a village called

CHARLES HEATON. Macmillan and Co. London. 1870.

Eytas, where his family occupied themselves with 2 Albert Durer; his Life and Works, including oxen and horses. My grandfather was called Autobiographical Papers and Complete Catalogues. Anthony, and 'he betook himself to the town By WILLIAM B. SCOTT, Author of Half-hour Lec- when still a young man, and learned the goldtures on the History and Practice of the Fine and Ornamental Arts. Longmans, Green, and Co. Lon-smith's art. He married a maiden called Elizabeth, and they had four children, one girl,

don. 1869.

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