VITAÏ LAMPADA

THERE's a breathless hush in the Close to-night Ten to make and the match to win

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote:
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

The sand of the desert is sodden red

Red with the wreck of a square that broke;
The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead,
And the regiment's blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far and Honor a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks :
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the School is set,

Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind

Bear through life like a torch in flame, And falling, fling to the host behind

"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

HENRY NEWBOLT

IMMORTALITY

BATTLES nor songs can from oblivion save,
But Fame upon a white deed loves to build;
From out that cup of water Sidney gave,

Not one drop has been spilled.

LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE

THE PIONEERS

WE little human beings have our day,
Then vanish from the Earth. All we to-night
Shall soon be but a memory in the world,
Our faces not among those newer faces
Yet are we deathless. Even as the great past
Lives, lives in us, each cell of blood and brain,
Each blend of spirit and vision and large dream
Wrought of the mighty lives that went before,
So we bend over the unborn beautiful future,
Out of our flesh create it, breathe in it

Our faiths and loves, and lo, when it is born
Our spirits dwell in it, our faces shine in it!
So let us now and then turn to the past,
As we have done this day, and live it over;
That we may see the daring and the faith
Of men and women, real and live as we,
Who made this land and us; that we may drink
Of their strong lives, that we may recollect
That only a great vision brings great deeds;
That only hearts heroic, restless hands
And unafraid spirits push the soul's frontiers
Into a richer life; which lesson learnt,
Let us build up our brief and hurrying day

Into such greatness that in some far hour
Our children, gathered as we gather now,
Shall reenact our history, and there find
New faith, new courage, and new enterprise.
JAMES OPPENHEIM

HOW A PLUCKY YOUNG WOMAN
MADE GOOD

[ELIZABETH BLACKWELL was the first woman to be admitted to a medical college in America. She came here from England as a child in 1832. Her autobiography, Pioneer Work for Women, from which this extract is reprinted, tells the story of her difficulties and her triumphs. At first every medical college to which she sought admission refused to let her enter.]

IN Philadelphia I boarded in the family of Dr. William Elder. He and his admirable wife soon became warm and steadfast friends. Dr. Elder (author of the life of Dr. Kane, the Arctic voyager) was a remarkable man, of brilliant talent and genial nature. He took a generous interest in my plans, helping by his advice and encouragement through the months of effort and refusals which were now encountered.

During these fruitless efforts my kindly Quaker adviser, whose private lectures I attended, said to me: "Elizabeth, it is of no use trying. Thee cannot gain admission to these schools. Thee must go to Paris and don masculine attire to gain the necessary knowledge." Curiously enough, this suggestion of disguise made by good Dr. Warrington was also given me by Dr. Pankhurst, the professor of

surgery in the largest college in Philadelphia. He thoroughly approved of a woman's gaining complete medical knowledge; he told me that although my public entrance into the classes was out of the question, yet if I would assume masculine attire and enter the college he could entirely rely on two or three of his students, to whom he should communicate my disguise, who would watch the class and give me timely notice to withdraw should my disguise be suspected.

But neither the advice to go to Paris nor the suggestion of disguise tempted me for a moment. It was to my mind a moral crusade on which I had entered, a course of justice and common sense, and it must be pursued in the light of day, and with public sanction, in order to accomplish its end.

[To her great delight, Miss Blackwell at last received a letter from the medical department of Geneva University in New York State, saying that her application had been submitted to a vote of the students.]

This letter enclosed the following unique and manly letter, which I had afterwards copied on parchment, and esteem one of my most valued possessions:

"At a meeting of the entire medical class of Geneva Medical College, held this day, October 20, 1847, the following resolutions were unanimously adopted:

"Resolved: That one of the radical principles of a republican government is the universal education of both sexes; that

to every branch of scientific education the door should be open equally to all; that the application of Elizabeth Blackwell to become a member of our class meets our entire approbation; and in extending our unanimous invitation we pledge ourselves that no conduct of ours shall cause her to regret her attendance at this institution."

November 20. In the amphitheatre yesterday little folded paper dropped on my arm as I was making notes; it looked very much as if there were writing in it, but I shook it off and went on quietly with my notes. Some after-demonstration of a similar kind produced a hiss from the opposite side of the room. I felt also a very light touch on my head, but I guess my quiet manner will soon stop any nonsense.

The behavior of the medical class during the two years that I was with them was admirable. It was that of true Christian gentlemen. I learned later that some of them had been inclined to think my application for admission a hoax, perpetrated at their expense by a rival college. But when the bona-fide student actually appeared they gave her a manly welcome, and fulfilled to the letter the promise contained in their invitation. My place in the various lecture-rooms was always kept for me, and I was never in any way molested.

January 19

DEAR M., I sit down to try and quiet myself by writing to you for this morning. I, as first on the list of candidates, passed through the usual examinations, presented certificates, received the testimony