Is this the best we can find for our artists to do? Is it any wonder that the creative minds of to-day are finding themselves driven to social revolution as their art-form? In the brown-owl hut beside the Merrimac that summer day in 1917 he remarked in a tone of indulgent irony: "The 'military experts' have found a nice, polite term for men killed or too badly maimed to fight any more." "What is it?" I asked. "'Wastage.'" [Music:--Beethoven: Finale of The Ninth Symphony.] X VISITATION Here, at the end, let those measures of the Ninth Symphony sound: no dirge; but a pæan of joy. For in that choral ecstasy of Beethoven's hymn to human brotherhood speaks the whole meaning and purpose of the life that was. Why have I detained you for a tale so plain? What was he but an obscure young painter, thirty years old, with his way to make? Why should I point him out to you among the millions? Because he was my friend? No. Because he is yours. Because I thought I saw in him the seeds of greatness? No. Because the seeds of greatness which were in him are in you; and he shall make you see them. I give him to you young men to be your friend, loyal and high-minded. I give him to you young women to be your lover, clean of body and of soul. He will be worthy of your friendship and of your love, and you shall be worthy of his in return. I give him to you in all the beauty of his youth and he shall never grow old, but he shall himself become one of the heroic friends, one of the great companions. I give you his soul to carry in your own, a life within a life. Through his eyes you may see the wonder and glory of the beautiful world which he saw so joyously. Let his generous heart beat through yours his passion for an ideal society and a better time than ours. He is to be immortal. And it is you who must make him so. Let him kindle in your hearts a fire which will not go out. He that would have made great canvases glow with the might of his spirit and the splendor of his imagination shall not now live by art alone, but by the living deeds of you. You shall be his masterpieces. You, immortal youth, shall be his immortality. Away from the dust and heat of the day, when the loud world crowds and clamors, he shall make for you, all in a dim, cool chamber of your souls, a sanctuary--a little space of sacred friendship--where you may enter and, closing the door, renew your vows. You may have him to stand beside you in hours of triumph, and in hours of disaster; steadier of your aim, sustainer of your courage.