There was his palace in the deep sea-water, Shining with gold and builded firm forever; And there he yoked him his swift-footed horses (Their hoofs are brazen, and their manes are golden) With golden thongs; his golden goad he seizes; He mounts upon his chariot and doth fly; Yea, drives he forth his steeds into the billows. The sea-beasts from the depths rise under him— They know their King: and the glad sea is parted, That so his wheels may fly along unhinder’d. Dry speeds between the waves his brazen axle:— So bounding fast they bring him to his Grecians. Earlier than this, in his racy papers called “My College Days,” we get another characteristic glimpse of Hale as a student. The Sunday afternoon before being examined for admission to college, he reports that he read the first six books of the Æneid (the last six having already been mastered) at one fell swoop,—seated meantime on the ridge-pole of his father’s house! More firmly than on any of these productions Hale’s literary fame now rests on an anonymous study in the “Atlantic Monthly,” called “The Man without a Country,” a sketch of such absolutely lifelike vigor that I, reading it in camp during the Civil War, accepted it as an absolutely true narrative, until I suddenly came across, in the very midst of it, a phrase so wholly characteristic of its author that I sprang from my seat, exclaiming “_Aut Cæsar aut nullus_; Edward Hale or nobody.” This is the story on which the late eminent critic, Wendell P. Garrison, of the “Nation,” once wrote (April 17, 1902), “There are some who look upon it as the primer of Jingoism,” and he wrote to me ten years earlier, February 19, 1892, “What will last of Hale, I apprehend, will be the phrase ‘A man without a country,’ and perhaps the immoral doctrine taught in it which leads to Mexican and Chilean wars—‘My country, right or wrong.’” Be this as it may, there is no doubt that on this field Hale’s permanent literary fame was won. It hangs to that as securely as does the memory of Dr. Holmes to his “Chambered Nautilus.” It is the exiled hero of this story who gives that striking bit of advice to boys: “And if you are ever tempted to say a word or do a thing that shall put a bar between you and your family, your home and your country, pray God in his mercy to take you that instant home to his own heaven!”