suffering; but young or old, women or men, seemed agreed on one point with singular unanimity;—each praised silence in others. Of all characteristics in human nature, this has been one of the most abiding. Mere superficial gleaning of what, in the long history of human expression, has been said by the fool or unsaid by the wise, shows that, for once, no difference of opinion has ever existed on this. "Even a fool," said the wisest of men, "when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise," and still more often, the wisest of men, when he spoke the highest wisdom, has been counted a fool. They agreed only on the merits of silence in others. Sophocles made remarks in its favor, which should have struck the Athenians as new to them; but of late the repetition had grown tiresome. Thomas Carlyle vociferated his admiration of it. Matthew Arnold thought it the best form of expression; and Adams thought Matthew Arnold the best form of expression in his time. Algernon Swinburne called it the most noble to the end. Alfred de Vigny's dying wolf remarked:—
"A voir ce que l'on fut sur terre et ce qu'on laisse,
Seul le silence est grand; tout le reste est faiblesse."
'When one thinks what one leaves in the world when one dies,
Only silence is strong,—all the rest is but lies.'
Even Byron, whom a more brilliant era of genius seemed to have decided to be but an indifferent poet, had ventured to affirm that
'The Alp's snow summit nearer heaven is seen
Than the volcano' s fierce eruptive crest; '
with other verses, to the effect that words are but a "temporary torturing flame;" of which no one knew more than himself. The evidence of the poets could not be more emphatic:—
'Silent, while years engrave the brow!
Silent,—the best are silent now!'
Although none of these great geniuses had shown faith in silence as
