“But let us not drop to personalities. What I maintain is that Latin and Greek are not dead languages, because they still convey living thoughts. The real success of a democracy--the production of a finer manhood--depends less upon mechanics than upon morale. For that the teachings of the classics are excellent. They have a bracing and a steadying quality. They instil a sense of order and they inspire a sense of admiration, both of which are needed by the people--especially the plain people--of a sane democracy. The classics are fresher, younger, more vital and encouraging than most modern books. They have lessons for us to-day--believe me--great words for the present crisis and the pressing duty of the hour.” “Give us an example,” said Dick; “something classic to fit this war.” “I have one at hand,” responded the professor promptly. He went to the book-shelves and pulled out a small brown volume with a slip of paper in it. He opened the book at the marked place. “It is from the Eighth Satire of Juvenal, beginning at line 79. I will read the Latin first, and afterward a little version which I made the other day.” The old man rolled the lines out in his sonorous voice, almost chanting: “'Esto bonus miles, tutor bonus, arbiter idem Integer; ambiguae si quando citabere testis Incertaeque rei, Phalaris licet imperet ut sis Falsus et admoto dictet periuria tauro, _Summum crede nefas, animam praeferre pudori Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.'”_ “Please to translate, sir,” said Dick, copying exactly the professor's classroom phrase and manner. “To gratify my nephew,” said the professor, nodding and winking at Hardman. “But, understand, this is not a real translation. It is only a paraphrase. Here it is: “Be a good soldier, and a guardian just; Likewise an upright judge. Let no one thrust You in a dubious cause to testify, Through fear of tyrant's vengeance, to a lie. Count it a baseness if your soul prefer Safety above what Honor asks of her: And hold it manly life itself to give, Rather than lose the things for which we live. It is not half as good as the Latin. But it gives the meaning. How do you like it, Richard?” “Fine!” answered the young man quickly; “especially the last lines. They are great.” He hesitated slightly, and then went on. “Perhaps I ought to tell you now, sir, that I have signed up and got my papers for the training-school at Madison Barracks. I hope you will not be angry with me.” The old man put both hands on the lad's shoulders and looked at him with a suspicious moisture in his eyes. He swallowed hard a couple of times. You could see the big Adam's apple moving up and down in his wrinkled throat. “Angry!” he cried. “Why, boy, I love you for it.” Hardman, who was a thoroughly good fellow at heart, held out his hand.