John Nagle's philosophy . ulgar conception of the few yearsof its existence would expand into untold mil-lions, and the apparently finished beings wouldbe seen to be the work of hidden forces oper-ating through endless ages that have lapsed. The study of Nature not only gives enjoy-ment but furnishes food for thought which nev-er need be dug from a stagnant pool. Thisis an age of science, and the application of it,and consequently its study should be made apart of the training of every child. PATHOS IN SONG. There is no place where song appeals to theheart and stirs it in sympathy with infinit
John Nagle's philosophy . ulgar conception of the few yearsof its existence would expand into untold mil-lions, and the apparently finished beings wouldbe seen to be the work of hidden forces oper-ating through endless ages that have lapsed. The study of Nature not only gives enjoy-ment but furnishes food for thought which nev-er need be dug from a stagnant pool. Thisis an age of science, and the application of it,and consequently its study should be made apart of the training of every child. PATHOS IN SONG. There is no place where song appeals to theheart and stirs it in sympathy with infinite ten-derness, of which song is the language, that theSuwanee River is not known through thematchless melody which bears that name. Thepathos of this song exceeds that of HomeSweet Home while the burden of its sorrowis sweeter in its simplicity and more earnestin its tender longings. It is dispair, findingvoice in the universal language which reachesconsciousness through the heart, which speakswith the fervor of DICKENS AND CARLYLE. One cannot read a sketch of the lives ofThomas Carlyle or Charles Dickens withouta feeling of indignation at the abuse whichtheir wives was deliberatecruelty, driving out from his heart the womanhe had promised to cherish and making her lifea wreck because her intellect did not keep pacewith his. When we read some of his beauti-ful passages on child life and womans love,knowing how unmanly, realized ambition madehim, we cannot help believing that the divinesympathy, which he painted so eloquently, wasnothing more than sentiment cast off in the in=tercourse of practical life. This discardedwife appears in the background and in the elo-quence of sorrow, hardship, and suffering takesthe coloring out of his beautiful words. Carlyle was cruel, but unconsciously wife was a superior woman, not equal to her husband in intellectual force, but vastlyso in all the qualities that give beauty to she lived alone. She
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