American Revolution the notorious Willing came down from Philadelphia, ostensibly to protect but really to rob, our district of Baton Rouge felt his vulture clutch as keenly as did your district of Natchez. In later times, when our Zachary Taylor found himself upon the border lands of Mexico, an overwhelming foe in his front and war hardly yet declared, your riflemen under Jefferson Davis joined our Louisianian in rushing to his assistance, long before the general government moved to protect its own. We followed you out of the Union. Disaster to you was calamity to us. The cause of the Confederacy we shared in common. Our dead are sleeping together upon the old battlefields in every part of our Southland. We are common sharers of the heritage of brave deeds and undying memories. Your peerless citizen, the first and only president of the Confederate States, died in our arms and we gave him such sepulture that the continent trembled under the all-powerful force of sentiment. We have faced your dangers, felt your needs as only a people can whose interests are one with yours. The spirit that framed your present constitution is pulsing in our veins. And so, did the time limits of this paper permit, might I continue to enumerate indefinitely the instances in which History wipes out the boundary line by which maps unblushingly infer that we are two peoples, having separate interests and lines of thoughts. True history is broadening; never narrowing. It is because so much of Louisiana history is Mississippi history, and so much of Mississippi history is in the chronicles of Louisiana that the narrative of either State calls for so broad and liberal and inspiring a treatment at the hands of the historian. THE STUDY AND TEACHING OF HISTORY. BY HERBERT B. ADAMS, PH.D. Professor of History in the Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. Among all the subjects of college study and college teaching, among all the means of liberal education fitting young men for civic life and public duty not one stands higher than the study and teaching of History. In my senior year at Amherst College, President Julius H. Seelye gave my class a single lecture on the Philosophy of History. Among other good things he said: "History is the grandest study in the world." That remark made the profoundest impression upon my student imagination. I said to myself, "If History is the grandest study in the world, that is exactly the study I want." The good President proved his statement to my satisfaction by showing the relation of Greek and Roman civilizations to the spread of Christianity and the education of Europe.