There lives no man on earth who could uncrown Him, or could cast a shade upon his name. Fair name of Washington! It glows too bright, The symbol of a Nation's wondrous birth ! Watchword of all who struggle toward the light, And rise to drive oppression from the earth! Name rich with warlike music, framed to sound Far down the ages full of strength and might To mould a race of heroes, virtue crowned,

And fire men's souls to battle for the right! Has its strong music then grown faint and weak? Or men's ears stopped and deafened by the din Of selfish clamors, which so loudly shriek

That God's own voice can scarcely enter in?
'Tis with half sneering tone that men now call
Him Father of his Country,' yet I know
How that great father heart would yearn o'er all
This wayward generation and o'erflow
With sorrowful surprise, could he behold

The warring factions and the growing lust
Of gain; the fair, young Nation now grown old
In sin, and lying prostrate in the dust!
You say, the time is past for praising men
Above their fellows; that th' electric glare
Of modern judgment shows 'tis only when
Kind circumstance enables men to dare
All things, or accident inscribes their name

In golden script, that they are lauded high.
But I contend he would have earned his fame
In spite of all the powers of earth and sky,
For he was born a hero, the strong flame

That filled his soul with steady forceful fire Was kindled by his Maker. And there came To him, from many a long departed sire That high nobility of soul, the grand

Inheritance of virtue left to him

By generations past, who knew the hand

Of God, and laid their own for help therein. Think you that his stern righteousness could brook The empty cant that covers selfish endsThe constant sham--the wolfish eyes that look From 'neath the cloak that reputation lends? Could his pure fearless spirit stand aside

And watch the tiger's bold relentless paw Clutch men with iron grasp, all undefied, Then vile and bloody, masquerade as law?

Ah! In these days, when each is for himself,
And love of country holds a second place,
When poor men raise their altars unto pelf,
And rich men lose their noble pride of race
In aping foreign customs, when the choice
Is all too often gold, in honor's stead,
And those who represent the people's voice

Strive each for selfish gain, and leave unsaid

The mighty words which should ring through the world,
Where can we look for succor? Who can cleanse
The state, and see corruption's death blow hurled,
When we are lacking honest tongues and pens
To rouse mankind, and honest men in power

To help them? What we sorely need is men!
And men like Washington,-who cannot cower
Before dishonor and vice,-who when
They rise in might will crush the rotten frame
Of politics, and rid the weary land

Of selfish vampires, decent but in name,

Who must at last yield to their stern command.
How can men sit so still and see the state

Struggling beneath the burden of disease,
Yet raise no hand to rescue? There's no weight
Of sin, and lust, too great for them to seize,
Nor has the canker spread so deep and wide
That none can cut it out. It is because
Men set their ease before their country's pride,
Their selfish gain before her desperate cause.
And then they scoff at Washington, the man
Who lived, a hero and a patriot,

Only to serve his country and to plan

Her future welfare. Ah! They have forgot,
That when God called him swift to leave the land
Which he had spent his life to found secure

Upon the solid base of truth, and planned
As one, above all other nations, pure,

He left it as a sacred charge unto

Her sons who should come after to maintain
The same swerving purpose. How brave you
Kept his great trust inviolate, free from stain?
It is for us, the mothers, sisters, wives,

To keep the knowledge of that solemn charge
Before our children's eyes and, by our lives,
To teach, so far as in us lies, this large
And noble plan of living for the good

Of all mankind,-we are not made to rise

How women look to them with trusting eyes,
And find them wanting! It is just because
Of this, that woman is become man-like
And strives for better justice, cleaner laws.
Yet her unaided arm can never strike
Corruption's heart. And man still shuts his eyes,
Or opens them to snatch what gain he can!"
And Washington sleeps on, grown heavenly wise,
In his fulfillment of th' eternal plan;
No warring factions mar the sacred rest

So nobly earned; no traitor foes conspire.
His great soul gave his Maker of its best.

And his torch, lit with an undying fire,
Burns brightly down the years; its beacon light

Shines through the gloom, with warning in its flame,

Yet hints of mighty conquest for the right

When men shake off their sleep and fix the blame
Where blame belongs. Thank God for the strong man,
The fearless fighter, and the patriot pure!

Who shows us how to follow life's best plan,
And makes our Country's liberty secure!

EDWINA SPENCER.

TO WOMAN IN AMERICA A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

[Read at the celebration of Washington's Farewell address by Crawford County Chapter, by Mrs. Sennett.]

A HUNDRED years gone, no woman I ween,

At meeting like this might oft have been seen;
Here small time of leisure, as yet all her care
How soonest and wisest the havoc repair

Of war's cruel waste.

A hundred years gone, too dimmed was the view
Of blessings that victory held for the true
Who fought for a free land, to those true and brave
Too near was the rapine, too green yet the grave
For pure joy alone.

A hundred years gone, to woman regret
Mixed darkly with hope, but courageous she set
To task of restoring, with mind and with strength,
Well being to those who safe owned at length
A hearth and a home.

Great-grandmothers dear, that some glass might have shown
The success, grandest measure, your efforts have known,
The future ye planted nor staying to weep,

Your children, free, prosp'rous, praising, ve reap.
Oh, could ye have looked

Afar down the path where ye guided weak feet,
Caught the vision of freemen (field, mart, and street
Each bringing its number to swell the vast throng)
To America's bounds, even, reaching along-
Yes, millions of free!

Great-grandmothers dear, 'tis fine to have wrought
For posterity all that your labor and thought

Worked for us, HEARTH and HOME-to serve them we vow,
And as ye in your day, with faith will serve now,

The guerdon God send !

CHAPTER WORK.

THE REVOLUTIONARY DAUGHTERS.

A LARGELY attended and interesting meeting of Anna Warner Bailey Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, took place at Daisy Crest, over Groton, September 15, it being the occasion of the Chapter's biennial election. The meeting began at two and lasted until six o'clock. Full reports were read by the retiring officers and standing committees. The address of Mrs. Cuthbert Harrison Slocomb, the Regent of the Chapter, which shows the work of the Society for two years, is as follows:

To the Anna Warner Bailey Chapter of Groton and Stonington, Daugh. ters of the American Revolution:

The hour approaches when my tenure of office must cease, and it becomes my duty, in addressing you, to review as concisely as possible, the course of our Chapter's undertakings, achievements, and events worthy of record, since our first election of officers in this room two years ago.

On September 13, 1893, sixteen earnest women assembled here, armed with their revolutionary pedigrees, to enlist in a social crusade as well as a patriotic one, and with outcome as uncertain as was that of the Revolution they live to celebrate, when on that momentous night saltwater "Tea "laved old Boston's pebbly beach.

You shall be spared, as far as possible, reiteration and such details as will be properly embodied in the official reports of your retiring officers. Starting three years ago with sixteen charter members, we have now one hundred and thirty-two registered names; of these, two have laid down the burden of life to enter into that "rest which remaineth for the people of God." Seven of this number are aged and honorable, being past active service in our ranks, and are gratefully considered as our share of the true "Daughters of Patriots," in fact, we may call them our "golden spoon" contingent. Nine applicants have been accepted to Chapter membership whilst awaiting national recognition. A sum total of one hundred and forty-one.

Our mis-stated proportion of members, residing out of the State, has raised discussion and even condemnation, but I see no objection to welcoming within our little fold all children of the old county who, by stress