Money
eager buying of rare books, pictures, and curios, flung on the markets by the destitution of Europe, has never been surpassed. One might wish that destitution anywhere (Vienna is not so far from New York that no cry of pain can reach us) would dim our pleasure in such purchases. This does not seem to be the case. "'T is man's perdition to be safe," and 't is his deepest and deadliest perdition to profit by the misfortunes of others.
An American rhapsodist, singing the pæan of money in the pages of the "Bankers' Magazine," says in its mighty name: "I am the minister of war and the messenger of peace. No army can march without my command. Until I speak, no ship of trade can sail from any port."
"Until I speak"! Always the emphasis upon that powerful voice which is so mute and inglorious without the compelling mind of man. When President Cleveland said that if it took every dol-
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