parents' anger, but usually, as it seems, accompanied by their applause. Quicker than the Boy Scouts his drilled battalions grew. When they had seen the King at St. Denis and begun their march southward from Paris to the sea, they are said to have numbered 30,000. How they were fed, how covered and succored on the road, we can only conjecture, but we may imagine the devout and pitiful women coming from villages and towns to meet them with cakes and sweets, with little garments and combs, and herbal medicines in a bottle. So the tender warriors marched upon their way, flowing like Rhone's waters ever southward: The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. "It is to God, to God, we are going!" they cried continually. Marseilles received them, and again we can imag The Nation. ine them asking each other if this was not the holy Jerusalem they sought Seven ships received them; beyond the protecting mountains of that ancient port they stood out to sea, and France saw them no more. One priest returned; then, after twenty-three years, Stephen's father returned, and into his mouth Mr. Baerlein has put his story. Quick death or long Egyptian slavery swallowed up the rest in darkness. It is a strange scene to recall, full of a pathos that it would be easy to wallow in. Like a dream, it is adorned with all the fantastic mists and colors of medieval unreality. But at the heart of it we recognize the abiding spirit of the child in man. For who is there that does not long to go on pilgrimage, or with the fairy army of Crusaders to pass beyond the bounds of commonplace, and set forth in fearless elation upon the white road that leads to the City of God? COURTEOUS FAULT-FINDING. The Rev. E. J. Hardy in his new book, "How to be Happy though Civil" (T. Fisher Unwin, 5s. net), devotes a whole chapter to "Courteous Censure." Without a doubt the art of effectual fault-finding is part of the ruler's art, a part which many rulers, great and small, practise with pain, and many with enjoyment. All those in authority must find fault at times if they do their duty, and to some minds censure is the symbol of power. Oddly enough, the people of whom this is true are by no means all bad people, or even tyrants. Take the commonest of all instances. There are some women who are eternally finding fault with their children, not necessarily angrily, and very often very gently, and even affectionately. It is the way they realize their own authority, which they have no desire to exercise otherwise than benevolently. A good many employers stand to their subordinates in something of the same relation as these women do to their children. They can never let them alone. Like the youthful possessor of a new watch, they must always be touching the regulator and increasing or retarding the action. They seem to live to set right. Where this censorious attitude is unaccompanied by harshness it is, we think. wonderfully little resented, and its practical effect is simply nil. Servants will stay for years with these aimless but kind-hearted correctors, and their children bear them no malice whatever. Again, there are not a few women who freely distribute courteous censure outside their own families, and have quite a talent for the polite correction of their acquaintance, who generally take it very well, particularly if the censor is a little above them in social position. Some women upon the lower rungs of the ladder take censure from above very graciously, having an eye to the pleasure of passing it on downwards. Many such women regard fault-finding as their duty, as their contribution, as it were, to that great moral fund which exists for the conversion of the world. This form of fault-finding also is completely ineffectual so far as any change in the recipient's course of conduct is concerned. There is, however, a form which is closely connected with it, and which does not seldom some practical good. Not a few women, and some few men, have a constitutional love of lecturing. As a rule they exercise it upon the young and the poor, because their equals and contemporaries will not stand to hear them, and it is impossible to deny that they often do good. To have their own shortcomings very plainly and kindly set before them at great length would seem to be beneficial to certain teachable and well-disposed persons who have gone astray through thoughtlessness, and if the lecturer's courtesy is of so fine a quality as to enable him to avoid arousing resentment, ridicule, or nausea in his victim, he may indulge his didactic disposition to his own satisfaction and the edification of his listener. Of course there are a few very strong and very useful men and women who are so inevitably born to rule that no exercise of authority is disagreeable to them. They are thoroughly good and justminded, if not very sensitive or sympathetic people. They find fault effectually without spite or scruple. To them all men are instruments to be carefully handled as becomes a good work man, and to be sharpened on whatever whetstone will give the best edge,--and to them the handling of instruments is the joy of life. But in spite of many exceptions, the majority of good people, while they find relief in grumbling, hate seriously to find fault. When they are in authority they study to avoid it, and are much more anxious to leave it undone than to do it well. By a little trouble and some sacrifices the amount possible without neglect of duty may be brought very low indeed. If an employer makes up his mind to reduce it below a certain minimum he must harden his heart, and may even find himself guilty of cruelty. The choice between reiterated warning and remorseless dismissal is sure to present itself from time to time, and though the kindest masters or mistresses may allow themselves to remember that you cannot carve in rotten wood, they ought to make quite sure that there is no sound stuff underneath before they altogether refuse to work with it. Men in authority with a real knowledge of character seldom find much fault. They realize that in dealing with an energetic and dutiful race like the English the majority of subordinates whose work is suited to them and who are well paid and well treated do their best. To be constantly using the spur upon them is simply to increase the aggregate suffering of the world, and to wear them out before their time. People who have no great natural gifts in regard to judging character constantly supply the defect by attention. Indeed, the older one grows the more certain one becomes that "gifts" are very rare, and very difficult to distinguish from the results of hard work. Some good people who hate to give pain sugar the bitter medicine of censure with praise. The plan works well with children, but there the element of affection comes in Sensi and upsets ordinary ealculation. With The odd thing is that the kind peo- of courteous censure, Mr. ber," is well worth preserving. We wonder whether Mr. Hardy knows the story of a consequential Bishop traveling in Switzerland, who apologized for bringing much luggage to a high place on the ground of his valet's stupidity, to whom a witty young man suggested that the servant had made the mistake of packing the mitre. Our raconteur is not squeamish about roughness. Like most humorists, he can forgive much and forgo little for the sake of a laugh; witness the following story:-"How dreadful it is when you bring a lady into dinner who cannot or will not say a word! In this predicament I have remarked: 'I do not mind being ugly, do you?' and this brought the painfully silent one to speech, if not to her senses." Of course we are not so simple as to believe that this genial and common-sensical humorist ever said anything so astoundingly and brutally rude. No doubt the false ascription is part of the joke. After all, we believe that the real way to reprove effectually, yet spare the feelings of the reproved, is not by too much striving after courtesy, nor too subtle combinations of praise and blame, nor any assumption of affectionate interest, but simply by taking refuge in officialism. We may easily exaggerate the extent to which our subordinates desire personal relations with ourselves. If they belong to a circle which is not ours, they have their own world of personal relationships. If, on the other hand, we "know one an other at home," as the schoolboys say, there are moments when it is well to forget it. An official rebuke gives the minimum of personal pain, and creates as a rule a maximum renewal of effort. THE LETTER N. a very serious misstatement in your paper for Saturday last. It is there stated that my husband, Mr. Michael Stirring. who has taken Kildin Hall, is a retired baker. This is absolutely false. Mr. Stirring is a retired banker, than which nothing could be much more different. Mr. Stirring is at this moment too ill to read the papers, and the libel will therefore be kept from him a little longer, but what the consequences will be when he learns it I tremble to think. Kindly assure me that you will give the denial as much publicity as the falsehood. Yours faithfully. Augusta Stirring. VI. The Editor of "The Easterham Herald" to Mrs. Michael Stirring. The Editor of The Easterham Herald presents his compliments to Mrs. Stirring and begs to express his profound regret that the misprint of which she complains should have crept into his paper. That it was a misprint and not an intentional misstatement he has the reporter's copy to prove. He will, of course, insert in the next issue of The Easterham Herald a paragraph correcting the error, but he would point out to Mrs. Stirring that it was stated in the paragraph that Mr. Stirring would be a valued addition to the neighborhood. VII. Mrs. Stirring to the Editor of "The Easterham Herald." Sir,-Whatever the cause of the slander, whether malice or misadventure, the fact remains that you have done a very cruel thing. I enclose a cutting from the London Press, sent me by a Mrs. Michael Stirring to the Editor of friend, which will show you that the "The Easterham Herald.” Sir-My attention has been called to calumny is becoming widely spread. Mr. Stirring is so weak and dispirited that we fear he may have got some inkling of it. Your position if he knows the worst will be terrible. I am, Yours faithfully, VIII. (The Enclosure.) From "The Morning Star." Signs of the Times. We get the new movement in a nutshell in the report from Easterham that Lord Glossthorpe has let his house to a retired baker named Stirring, etc., etc. IX. From "The Easterham Herald," Sept. 9. Erratum.-In our issue last week an unfortunate misprint made us state that the new tenant of Kildin Hall was a retired baker. The word was of course banker. X. Messrs. Greenery and Bills, Steam Dear Sir,-After the offensive way in which you refer to bakers in the current number of your paper we feel that we have no other course but to withdraw our advertisement; so please discontinue it from this date. Yours faithfully, XII. Mrs. Stirring to the Editor of "The Easterham Herald," Sir, I fear you have not done your best to check the progress of your slanderous paragraph, since only this inorning I received the enclosed. You will probably not be surprised to learn that through your efforts the old-world paradise of Kildin, in which we hoped to end our days, has been closed to us. Yours truly, Augusta Stirring. XIII. (The Enclosure.) From "The Daily Leader." The Triumph of the Democracy. After lying empty for nearly two years Lord Glossthorpe's country seat has been let to a retired baker named Stirring, etc., etc. XIV. Mrs. Michael Stirring to Mr. Guy Lander. Dear Sir,-After the way that the good name and fame of my husband and myself have been poisoned both in the local and the London Press, we cannot think further of coming to live at Kildin Hall. Every post brings from one or other of my friends some paragraph perpetuating the lie. Kindly therefore consider the negotiations completely at an end. I am, Yours faithfully. |