REASON

AND

SENTIMENT

are two forces which should be balanced evenly in man. When one or the other tips the beam we have a onesided nature and warped development. Under this title A Great Book by Dr. Paul Dubois the famous French specialist on mental and nervous states, ably translated into English, takes up and considers the whole question of the need for restraining impulse by common sense. The ad vice given is practical, simple, and efficacious. Every young man and woman should read it carefully and apply it in the daily affairs of life. 12mo, cloth, 50 cents net; by mail, 58 cents. FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, 354 Fourth Avenue, New York

THE BIBLE and
MODERN LIFE

AN unusual book by CLAYTON SIDGWICK
COOPER, which gives a large amount
of interesting information on the spread
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full-page illustrations.
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A book wouldn't tell all that happened. One boy of eighteen was gassed. I ordered him back, told him he had done his bit. He cried to stay, but started back; they told me that when he reached the dressingstation he had six Boche prisoners. He'd got them out of a dugout on his way in. About ten we captured a major-general. I say we; as a matter of fact, there were men from three regiments mixed up in it. He was very tall and was standing with his great cape drawn about him when we entered the dugout. He rose and went up the steps and out without saying anything. It's funny the little things you notice. Behind us on the roof of a building a signal corps private was stringing a wire, and a pal of his was feeding the wire up to him. When the shell fell it knocked the ground man against the wall, but part of it struck the man on the roof with such force that it knocked off the back of his steel hat. He wasn't hurt, merely dazed. Three minutes later I saw him still sitting on the roof holding the end of the broken wire in his hand. "Well," he called down to his sidekick, "I guess we'd better splice this wire."

About four in the afternoon, I think it was, we were held up again by machinegun fire. Our ranks had been thinned pretty badly and I was the only officer left. A runner came to me with a note from the major. He was coming up with reenforcements. Thankful, I breathed a little He was there in fifteen minutes. We were organized in twenty and ready to go forward again.

prayer.

The major came up to me. "You wounded?"

"Not badly sir."

"Well, you get out. Go on back."

Plead as I would, he wouldn't let me stay, and so the Red Cross got me and I had to leave my boys. I'd have given my right hand to have stayed. I don't remember much after that. I know we went two or three miles to a Red-Cross station and I was trucked here and there in ambulances. Then there was a doctor and a nurse. The nurse was holding my hands and I was all clean and they had taken the shell out and I was all bandaged up. She looked like an angel to me. I kind a think she was one, for she laughed and told me I was not hurt badly. Then I went to Paris to a hospital, and General Pershing visited us there, and then I came to Nantes.

That was about two weeks ago, and I'm almost ready to go back now. My physique was good. I mend rapidly and am anxious to be back again.

I hope the folks at home will remember Pop Crane and the others who have paid the price. So far as I am concerned they can't pay too big a price for him.

The spirit of the American Navy runs through a letter published in the El Paso Herald, giving the experience of ActingQuartermaster Tom Clements when the gunboat Schurz was sunk as the result of a collision off the Atlantic coast. The crash occurred in the middle of the night. There was no confusion on board the gunboat and Clements became imprest with the "fact that every man is brave in the face of physical danger." The scene is then described:

With the exception of a few of the mess attendants every man on board was as cool as tho we were being called for inspection. There was no noise or confusion. There was no shouting of orders. Every boat and raft was put afloat in

proper order and not a man was put in
jeopardy of life or limb by being com-
pelled to jump from the deck or bulwarks
after the order was given to abandon ship,
except two or three of the frightened mess-
attendants, and they, for the most part,
were not Americans.

The men and the officers, of course,
were as cool as they would be on parade.
When the order to abandon ship was
given the men at the boats and rafts began
'chanteys" sung by
to sing the usual
sailormen the world over when doing that
kind of work, and which are sung not so
much for the purpose of cheering the men
as to cause them to move in unison and
thus facilitate their work.

When we pulled the boats and rafts
from the side of the rapidly settling ship,
not only the men at the oars and sweeps
sang, but the men in the bodies of the
various craft sang with the oarsmen in
time to the sweep of the oars.

If there was an excited man in the lot, except the two or three mess-attendants I have already mentioned, I didn't see him. I have begun to think that what we call fear is merely a matter of anticipation and that when we get face to face with the real thing fear rushes to the tall timber. I certainly hope I will never have any more fear than I had while the old Schurz was slipping from under me. It may be that the absence of panic in me was due to the fact that there was no panic anywhere. Panic, you know, is catching and in that case there was no panic to catch.

THE

TO WORK IS TO PRAY

'HE old Latin saw, "Laborare est orare," for many centuries has been a kind of dignified motto, more decorative than practical. A kind of pretty legend to put on carved scrolls over buildings sleeping in monastic calm, or in later days to decorate letter-heads used by semireligious sociological experimenters. Its unfathomed depths and glorious inner meaning, as exprest by the workingman of Nazareth, seem to have been smothered in the clamor of conflicting sects, or swaddled out of sight in the grave-clothes of exotic liturgies.

In these days of strenuous struggle, when men, that we knew in the days of peace spoke but little, if at all, of God and the soul, now are sending from the trenches, where they daily look into the eyes of Death, strange letters of an altogether different tone, it would seem that the very fountains of the soul's depths were being broken up.

Labor is no longer undignified; it has come into its own. Imagine a scant few years ago a scholarly preacher doing laboring work, and proud of it! Yet so it is. The New York Evening Mail makes a feature of such a case, saying:

Earning three dollars a day as a common laborer in the shipyard of the Ludors Marine Construction Company, Rabbi Wise, of New York, preacher, author, and scholar, is spending his vacation in the service of the Government. Rabbi Wise works ten hours a day at strenuous labor. With the ardor of a schoolboy, his enthusiasm undampened because of his lack of technical training, he is employed in a yard

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THE LIGHT OF ASIA Or The Great Renunciation by Sir Edwin Arnold. The life and teaching of Gautama, founder of Buddhism, told in English verse. 4to, manila, 32 pp. 25 cents; by mail, 28 cents. Funk & Wagnalls Company, 354-360 Fourth Avenue, New York

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A big new book by Elizabeth Sloan Chesser, M.B. With an Introduction by Mrs. Frederic Schoff, President of National Congress of Mothers and Parent-Teachers Associations, U. S. A. Every thinking woman and every man of public spirit should read and heed this most comprehensive volume. It deals with the woman's sphere the evolution of motherhood marriage and customs-the legal position of the wife and mother-the unmarried mother-woman and divorcehealth and maternity-the sweated mother in the home-the factory mother-the world's crop of human babies-the waste of mother energy- the world's work for mother protection women prisoners-motherhood and eugenics motherhood and the social vile-training for motherhoodmotherhood and the woman movement-the mothers of the future. "A sane, practical and scientific presentation of the woman movement," says the SURVEY, N. Y. Large 12mo, cloth, 287 pp., $1.50 net. By mail, $1.62. Funk & Wagnalls Company, 354-60 Fourth Ave., N.Y. City.

for only the least skilled labor. He is as brown as a berry and expects to be in tiptop condition for his work in the winter. His foreman says he is one of the most popular "boys."

The New York Evening Sun chimes in with a story of Father Duffy, chaplain of the "Fighting Sixty-ninth," who has so won the hearts of the men as to be called a "real guy!"

When the history of New York's own "Sixty-ninth" in the war has been written, the world will know the full story of the bravery under fire of the regiment's chaplain, Father Francis P. Duffy. Meanwhile it must content itself with the meager details of his wonderful work that come over the cables.

"He's a real guy," was the way Private Rooney, who lived at 557 West 149th Street when he enlisted, summed up the chaplain of the famous Irish regiment.

All through the charge across the Ourcq and the advance of the old Sixty-ninth, the chaplain, Father Duffy, with his coat off, the perspiration streaming down his begrimed face, worked tirelessly, 'administering the last sacraments and taking last messages for mothers and wives "back home."

Times there were when a stretcherbearer was shot down in the furious fighting. Then the chaplain halted his work as a priest to take up the fallen end and help bear the wounded behind the lines.

"When you are writing about it," said Private Rooney to a correspondent with whom he was discussing the famous dash across the Ourcq, "don't forget to say a good word for the chaplain. He's a real guy."

66

Heedless of snipers' bullets Father Duffy carries on." He is in the fiercest fighting, bearing comfort and cheer. And stories of his bravery, to be told some day, multiply.

When a priestly professor of philosophy attains to the dignity of such a name among the doughboys he has indeed got "under their skin."

Could anything tell more vividly of the breaking down of man-manufactured barriers than their beautiful story told in the New York Sun:

The Rev. Sheridan Zelie, of Plainfield, N. J., is a Red-Cross Chaplain and of the Presbyterian faith. A few days ago, when he was near Château-Thierry, he wanted to hold religious services, and as the Catholic chapel near there was unoccupied, with nobody with authority around, he decided to hold services there. Several Red-Cross nurses and some soldiers and orderlies took seats, and as the services proceeded some French soldiers entered. After the service, as he was going around to put out the candles, one of these approached and, smiling, said he was a priest and told him he had been preaching in his chapel. "This instance shows how war breaks down all barriers between religious denominations," the pastor said, relating the

incident.

Contrast that with the fiendish work of the disciples of Kultur, which follows:

Private Harry Meeks, of Washington, Pa., and J. C. Titterington, of Ligonier, Pa., told me that when they entered the town of Poncheres and were fighting