novels of the last century are already antiquated; few care to read them. The poetry of the middle ages is enjoyed only by those who cultivate a special taste for it. Historical and scientific works hardly have time to leave an impression before new books appear to crowd them out. But a few great masterpieces have survived, and the truth and beauty of these the lapse of ages, it seems, has left unaltered. Mr. Jebb remarks[11] that Homer aims at the lucid expression of primary motives, and refrains from multiplying individual traits which might interfere with their effect, and that this typical quality in Homer's portraiture has been one secret of its universal impressiveness. The Homeric outlines are in each case brilliantly distinct, while they leave to the reader a certain liberty of private conception, and he can fill them in so as to satisfy his own ideal. We may add that this is just as true of the Bible as of Homer. The biblical narrative, too, depicts a few essential traits of human nature, and refrains from multiplying minor traits which might interfere with the main effect. The Bible, too, draws its figures in outline, and leaves every age free to fill them in so as to satisfy its own ideal. Thus the biblical story, as conceived in the mind of Milton, reflects the Puritan ideal; the same story, narrated in a modern pulpit or Sunday-school, will inevitably reflect, to a greater or less degree, the modern humanitarian ideal, and this liberty of interpretation is one cause of the vitality of the Bible. But it may be asked further, How did Homer, how did the biblical writers, succeed in producing such universal types, in drawing their figures so correctly that, however the colors may thenceforth be varied, the outlines remain forever true? He who should attempt at the present day to give expression to the most universal traits of human nature, freed from the complex web of conditions, disengaged from the thousand-fold minor traits which modify the universal in particular instances, would find it difficult to avoid one or the other of two fatal errors. If he keeps his eyes fixed on the universal, he is in danger of producing a set of bloodless abstractions, pale shadows of reality, which will not live for a day, much less for a thousand years. If, on the other hand, he tries to keep close to reality he will probably produce more or less accurate copies of the types that surround him, but the danger will always be that the universal will be lost amid the particulars. By what quality in themselves or fortunate constellation of circumstances did Homer and the biblical writers succeed in avoiding both these errors, in creating types of the utmost universality and yet imparting to them the breath of life, the gait and accent of distinctive individuality? I imagine that they succeeded because they lived at a time when life was much less complex than it is at present, when the conversation, the manners, the thoughts, the motives of men were simple.