workingmen and taught them industry, honor and self-reliance.  He bought spinning-wheels and raw flax, and made pauper women self-supporting.  He founded the Sheffield Museum, and placed there his paintings and marbles, that workers in iron and steel might have the finest models and bring all their handiwork up toward beauty.  He asked his art-students in Oxford to give one hour each day to pounding stones and filling holes in the street.  When his health gave way Arnold Toynbee, foreman of his student gang, went forth to carry his lectures on the industrial revolution up and down the land.  Falling on hard days and evil tongues and lying customs, he wore himself out in knightly service.  So he gained his place among “the immortals.”  But the secret of his genius and influence is this:  He fulfilled the debt of strength and the law of social sympathy and service.

This spirit of sympathetic helpfulness has also given us what is called “the new womanhood.”  To-day our civilization is rising to higher levels.  Woman has brought love into law, justice into institutions, ethics into politics, refinement into the common life.  Reforms have become possible that were hitherto impracticable.  King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table marching forth for freeing some fair lady were never more soldierly than these who have become the friends and protectors of the poor.  The movement began with Mary Ware, who after long absence journeyed homeward.  While the coach stopped at Durham she heard of the villages near by where fever was emptying all the homes; and leaving the coach turned aside to nurse these fever-stridden creatures and light them through the dark valley.  Then came Florence Nightingale and Mary Stanley, braving rough seas, deadly fever and bitter cold to nurse sick soldiers in Crimea, and returned to find themselves broken in health and slaves to pain, like those whom they remembered.  Then rose up a great group of noble women like Mary Lyon and Sarah Judson, who journeyed forth upon errands of mercy into the swamps of Africa and the mountains of Asia, making their ways into garrets and tenements, missionaries of mercy and healing, Knights of the Red Cross and veritable “King’s Daughters.”  No cottage so remote as not to feel this new influence.

Fascinating, also, the life-story of that fair, sweet girl who married Audubon.  Yearning for her own home, yet finding that her husband would journey a thousand miles and give months to studying the home and haunts of a bird, she gave up her heart-dreams and went with him into the forest, dwelling now in tents, and now in some rude cabin, being a wanderer upon the face of the earth—­until, when children came, she remained behind and dwelt apart.  At last the naturalist came home after long absence to fulfill the long-cherished dream of years of quiet study with wife and children, but found that the mice had eaten his drawings and destroyed the sketches he had left behind.  Then was he dumb with grief