In letters, “clearness” should be left to the maker of directories, “force” to the auctioneer, and “elegance” to the young man who presides at the button counter. Were I an instructor in a Commercial College, I might advise that in business correspondence there should be clearness and force and elegance; but if I were a Professor of Literature and Oratory, I would not smother inspiration in a formula. I would say, Cultivate the heart and intellect, and allow nature to do the rest. For while it is still a mooted question whether a man’s offspring after the flesh are heirs to his mental and spiritual qualities, it is very sure that the children of his brain are partakers in whatsoever virtue that his soul possesses. The teacher who teaches best is not he who insists on our memorizing rules, but he who produces in the pupil a pleasurable animation. We learn only in times of joy and in times of grief. The teacher who can give his pupils pleasure in their work shall be crowned with laurel, but grief—grief is the unwelcome gift of the gods alone! Let the writer have a clear conception and then express it so it is at the moment clear to his Other-Self—that Self that looks on over the shoulder of every man, endorsing or censuring his every act and thought and deed. The highest reward of good work consists in the approbation of this Other-Self, and in that alone; even though the world flouts it all, you have not failed. “I know what pleasure is,” said Stevenson, “for I have done good work.” ELBERT HUBBARD. A SONNET OF HOPE. I said unto my heart: take courage, friend! No hurt can hurt thee save thyself alone: Thy only brother’s breast may change to stone, Thy soul’s companion turn, thy core to rend; Earth’s utmost space no cheering word may send, But only Darkness make a bitter moan Till naught, save Death, may seem to be thine own, Naught left for thee to love—naught to defend. Yet, O my heart! fear not thy challenger Nor quail to meet the blackest packs of Night, Whether on flowery mead or rocky hill: Rouse thou my blood and bid my pulses stir To match the Lilliputians’ sapless might With the steel armor of the unconquered Will! JOHN JEROME ROONEY. SHAKSPEARE’S BORROWINGS. An English student of Italian literature has been at great pains to investigate Mr. William Shakspeare’s indebtedness for his plots and backgrounds to the Italian novelists. He publishes the result of his studies in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, and it is an article all students of literature will want to read. It reveals the fine audacity of Mr. Shakspeare, and shows how the world of readers gains when great genius takes its own where it finds it.