When this hidden fire shall burst forth into a devouring flame, when this seeming alliance shall change into open enmity and bitter war, no one can prophesy.  But no doubt sooner or later.  For between nations, as well as in the bosom of communities, there are irrepressible conflicts, which no alliances, no compacts, and no motives of wisdom or interest can forever hold in check.  And when it shall burst forth, no one can foretell what its end shall be.  That dread uncertainty, more than all these things else, keeps the peace.  We can but think that the naval preeminence of England has grown out of the real character of her people and of their pursuits,—­and that the same causes which, in the long, perilous conflicts of the past, have enabled her to secure the sovereignty of the seas, will strengthen her to maintain that sovereignty in all the conflicts which in the future may await her.  But, whatever may be the result, to whomsoever defeat may come, nothing can obliterate from the pages of history the record of the sagacity, perseverance, and courage with which the French people and their ruler have striven to overcome a maritime inferiority, whose origin, perhaps, is in the structure of their society and in the nature of their race.

* * * * *

SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.

    Labor with what zeal we will,
      Something still remains undone,
    Something, uncompleted still,
      Waits the rising of the sun.

    By the bedside, on the stair,
      At the threshold, near the gates,
    With its menace or its prayer,
      Like a mendicant it waits: 

    Waits, and will not go away,—­
      Waits, and will not be gainsaid. 
    By the cares of yesterday
      Each to-day is heavier made,

    Till at length it is, or seems,
      Greater than our strength can bear,—­
    As the burden of our dreams,
      Pressing on us everywhere;

    And we stand from day to day
      Like the dwarfs of times gone by,
    Who, as Northern legends say,
      On their shoulders held the sky.

* * * * *

THE GREAT INSTRUMENT.

Early in the month of November the mysterious curtain which has hidden the work long in progress at the Boston Music Hall will be lifted, and the public will throng to look upon and listen to the GREAT ORGAN.

It is the most interesting event in the musical history of the New World.  The masterpiece of Europe’s master-builder is to uncover its veiled front and give voice to its long-brooding harmonies.  The most precious work of Art that ever floated from one continent to the other is to be formally displayed before a great assembly.  The occasion is one of well-earned rejoicing, almost of loud triumph; for it is the crowning festival which rewards an untold sum of devoted and conscientious labor, carried on, without any immediate recompense, through a long series of years, to its now perfect consummation.  The whole community will share in the deep satisfaction with which the public-spirited citizens who have encouraged this noble undertaking, and the enterprising; and untiring lover of science and art who has conducted it from the first, may look upon their completed task.