June 11.
}bars. One saw mud and one saw ars. The second thought that comes to us is that we are not deserving of. the good -things Said about us and with, that comes a further reflection—that is if we have in us a scintilla of the good qualities our panegyrist attributes to our nation—that we shall endeavour to be more deserving of the good opinion of our neighbours and seek to imitate him who sees more good in us than we actually possess.
There is a law that pervades all space to the utmost bounds of infinitude. It is that every particle of matter in the universe shall attract every other particle in a definite, proportionate, scale. The action of this law betrayed the presence of the planet Neptune when, as yet, it had never been perceived by a human eye, A poet has sung, "he innocent moon, which nothing does but shine.
"Moves all the labouring surges of the world."
There is another, corresponding, law which permeates all the relations of mankind. It is that from every living individual there goes forth an Influence that affects all others of -his Kind who come within the range of his orbit, Like the natural law, this psychical force is con stant and unperceived. Our individuality affects those we come in contact with and we, in turn, react, spontaneously to them. The strangest thing about this invisible power is that we are unconscious of it, Let us but decide that we will bring our influence to bear on some person, for some purpose of our own, and, in the very act of so willing, we become as impotent, as Samson shorn of his locks.
The mysterious force resides not in what we say or what we do Dut in what we are; we can neither exert it nor control it and it is questionable whether we are not the more susceptible to it the more we endeavour to resist its action.
These reflections arise from reading a letter in the "Times" entitled "A Frenchman's tribute to England." The writer is Jean La Cecilia, Professeur d'Anglais an Lycee clu Foix, He sings a pean in praise of the England of to-day. The Britain that sent ix million men to fight for freedom in the great war. He even suggests that there should be a Nobel prize for nations and suggests that ours is the only country to which such a prize could, with justice, be awarded. Aceustomed, as we are, to the wounds of our candid' friends and the calumnies of our enemies, this tribute is very refreshing, but it does not create in us a feeling of elation. We do not pat ourselves on the back and say. "At last we have found someone who understands and appreciater us as we deserve." The first thought that flashes through our minds, as we read this generous encomium, is that the writer must be a good man. He has the mind that thinketh no evil, We ask ourselves whether we' could have written, sin this strain, of France, of Belgium, of America "and, to be honest with ourselves, we are foreed to confess that we could not, Not because these nations are not as worthy of praise as we are but becase we cannot see them in the light in which this amiable Frenchman sees us. It is written that "the pur heart shall see God." Soci: God is not a reward given for super-eminent virtue: it is the natural result of purity of heart for it is the mind that sees. The eve is only an organ of vision, an animated telescope. Two men looked out through prison Lest we be tempted to go about with our heads bumping against the stars along comes another gentleman with an assessment of our national cha: acteristic. He is Count Herman Keyserling and he writes in the "Saturday Review of Literature" of New York, The Count sees in us nothing that is good. To find a parallel to his vituperation we should have to turn back to Crossland's diatribe on "Th:
Unspeakable Scot." Doubtless there is some truth in these biting denunciations but they overreach themselves. We are told that, "If the Frenchman or the German is to find an intelligent approach to them (the English)
can do so only by comparison to the animal world." Does criticism of this kind depress us? Not a jot. We say to ourselves, "It is the carrion crow that, "If the Frenchman or the butterfly seeks for nectar and fly straight to the beautiful flowers where it may be found. Like draws to like and a good man or a just man would be incapable of penning such rhodomontade." Nor are we in the Toast inclined to mend our ways because our national character-istles do not please Count Keyserling. He has reasons, which do us no dishonour, for disliking us and, if this venting of spleen eases his burden of hate, he is welcome to it. But, once again, the lesson we learn is that the way to influence a person for good is not to trample on him. Not to seck for the worst in him but to appeal to his best; to what he fain would be rather than to what he is.
But, as Johnny Armstrong said, in the old ballad, to the king "To seek hot water beneath cold fee, surely that were a great fellic, And I've sought grace at graceless face where there is none for my men and me."
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.