villages. They loved nature, too, and, next to war, their favorite occupation was hunting. Among them, as a Roman writer has said, "no one smiled at vice;" and it was not "fashionable" to do wrong, as it was at Rome.

Another great difference that Hermann noticed between his people and those around him at Rome was in the treatment that the women received. Marriage with the Germans was a holy thing. The men loved their wives and children; home was a place sacred to the sweet enjoyments that have made it so beautiful among their descendants ever since. When they were married, the man made presents to the bride, and any wrong done to her roused in the husband's heart the direct desire for vengeance. Already the Roman generals had treated the German's wives and daughters in a way that stung their husbands and fathers to the quick. The lines of one of the great English writers express his feelings well. He says, (altering but a word), "Leave to the poor barbarian his single tie to life, The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister and of wife,

The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vexed soul endures,

The kiss in which he half forgets even such a

yoke as yours.

Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame,

That turns the coward's heart to steel, the slug

gard's blood to flame;

and of thy life is at hand!" Whatever Drusus thought of this apparition, true it is that he did not advance farther, but soon after, while retreating, fell from his horse and died. It is said that on his retreat, wolves howled around his camp, the wild screams of women were heard, and the stars raced about the sky. To the minds of superstitious people these were frightful omens. He was succeeded

by his artful and arrogant brother. Tiberius, who afterwards became emperor of Rome.

Under Tiberius the condition of the Germans did not grow much worse. When he returned to Rome, a general named Varus was sent to take his place. He had been among the conquered people of Syria, and thought that he could govern the Germans as he governed them. But there was none of the German love of liberty among the Syrians, and Varus soon found that he had made a mistake. Under Tiberius the Germans had been comparatively quiet, waiting, as it proved, a leader to rise and give them freedom. Now they were irritated and ready, and now too a leader was ready to show them the way to throw off the galling yoke.

You are ready to say that it was Hermann who was to do the heroic deed. He had been trained by the Romans to lead his own countrymen in wars for their conquerors, but he could not be made to forget the interest of the German people. He showed them that by uniting their forces they might resist a people even so powerful as the Romans. He found they were prepared to strike a great blow for deliverance. Hermann knew that if he were to attack the wellarmed and carefully drilled soldiers of Rome in the open field, he would have little chance of success. He determined to lead Varus into the wild forests, where numbers and strength of body would be a match for skill and arms. He therefore caused the people of a distant place to open the war by revolting against the invaders, and made his plans to attack Varus when he should have marched beyond his forts, in some thick woods among the mountains.

Varus was as confident of success as the Romans generally had been, and fearlessly marched to his ruin. If you will look on a map of Germany, you will see a town named Detmold, about fifty miles southwest of Hanover. It is among the rugged mountains known as the Teutoburger Alps. The country is full of narrow valleys, surrounded by lofty hills, which at the time we are speaking of were covered with great trees. It was to this region that Hermann enticed Varus, and at a point near the town of Detmold the Romans met the Germans. Varus had with him about fourteen thousand infantry from Rome, nearly a thousand Roman horsemen, and a large number of soldiers that he had gathered from the provinces. These were well organized. They had brave and skilful officers, and the heavy armor that you have seen in the pictures of Roman soldiers.

There were no roads through the woods, and Varus was obliged to cut down trees and fill up swampy places in order to get his army along. Then, almost before he knew it, he found himself in a trap. The valleys were large enough, but they were entered by narrow defiles, through which but few could pass at a time. Hermann and his army knew the way about the region, and they were there before the Romans, cutting down trees to impede their progress, and harassing them from the tops of the hills.

Heavy rains had fallen, and it kept raining, until Varus thought it would never stop. This made his progress in any direction very difficult, even when he had no enemy striking his men down with arrows that seemed to come from the clouds, or to be shot out of the very hills themselves. He had also made the mistake of carrying into the woods his heavy baggage wagons, and of letting a great rabble of camp-followers go along, just as if he were traveling through a friendly country, or taking an excursion to exercise his men.

Hermann would not let his brave desperate Germans go out to meet the Romans in any open place, but held to his plan of secrecy and artifice until he saw

that the Romans were tired out, and were leaving their heavy wagons, and getting into such confusion that they could not even hear the commands of their officers. Then he ordered his men to charge upon the worn-out foreigners. With shouts and fury the Germans sprang through the gloomy woods, firing their terrible arrows at the men, but especially at the horses of the Roman cavalry.

We pitied the Germans at first, but now we pity the poor lost Romans. They were not fighting for their homes but only because their general told them to do it. Varus soon saw that there was no possibility of his getting ahead, and ordered his men to start back. They did as they were told, but still they fought. They were separated one from another. The Germans surrounded the small bands and slaughtered them. They were lost in the swamps. Their eagles were taken. All hope left them, and they saw that there was no escape. One little body of veterans formed themselves in a ring on a mound, and determined to sell life as dearly as they could; but it was of no use. They tried to raise a protecting earth-work and to make a ditch, but they were worn out by fatigue and pained by their wounds. Inch by inch they were obliged to give way, and the Germans charged on them, killing all that they did not reserve to be offered as sacrifices. Very few of the proud army of Rome escaped to tell the story of the fight in the German woods. Varus cast himself upon his sword and died. But the news was taken to Rome, and the emperor and all his people received it with terror. Tiberius, who had called himself Augustus, "the majestic," tore his clothes in his agony, and pitiably cried out:

"Give me my legions, Varus!"

But the legions could never be given him. The horrified Romans declared that summits of the Alps fell at this time, and that columns of fire blazed from em; that the temple of the God of Wavas struck by a thunderbolt; that the heavens glowed as if on fire; that comets blazed forth, and meteors like spears shot from

the north into the Roman camp; that the statue of victory, which had been erected on the frontier, pointing towards Germany, had of its own accord turned around and pointed towards Rome.

It sounds very much like what we read in Shakspeare's play of Julius Cæsar:

"Graves have yawned and yielded up their dead;
Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds,
In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the capitol;
The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh and dying men did groan,
And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the
streets."

It was believed that the victorious Germans would march upon Rome, and there was consternation on this account. A great force was raised by draft, for no one of military age was willing to en

list to face a foe so terrible as the Germans were represented to be, by the frightened refugees who had brought the news to the city. But the Germans did not march to Rome. Hermann fought for freedom, not for conquest as the Romans did. He obtained what he fought for. If you look at a map of the ancient Roman Empire, you will see that it did not extend beyond the Rhine.. Hermann put a stop to Roman progress in that direction for all time. He won freedom for the Germans and their descendants, and put that spirit into them which caused them, on the Meadow of Counsel, to force King John to sign the Magna Charta; and which caused the Patriots at Philadelphia, in 1776, to sign the Declaration of Independence.—Selected.

God gave to the world a singer,

A warbler of strange, sweet songs,

And bade her in brightness linger

Where thickest were found earth's throngs.

And deep in her heart the vision
Of glorious brightness lay,
And she sang sweet strains elysian
As she walked the lighted way.

For her soul was bathed in brightness,
At the fount of light she drank,
But the sheen of her spirit's whiteness
From the touch of earth ne'er shrank.

A song of strength to the drooping,
A song of joy to the sad-
God's angels ne'er deemed her stooping,
That she made earth's children glad.

And ever she sang of beauty,

And justice and love and truth,
And the thorniest path of duty
Grew bright to her trusting youth.

But the world said in cold scorning
Sweet songs have been sung before,
We've no need of new adorning

With the poems of thy lore.

Give us grander, sweeter music,
Give us strains yet more divine,

But with holy trust the singer

From her child-like soul looked up, And remembered that Christ, the bringer Of joy, drank scorn's black cup. And in orisons pure and tender,

Her thankful heart swelled high,
For the light her soul might render
In a world where all must die.

And though humble, meek and lowly
Were the songs of praise she sang,
Pure angels called them holy,

In heaven their sweet tones rang.
For in love she obeyed the master

Who commanded the light to shine, And in faith toiled on the faster,

Believing the call divine.

And no one knew but the angels

Of the beauty still unexpressed The love, the light, the gladness

That lingered within her breast.

And so like a babe in sweetness

On the Savior's breast she lay, For her joy was in life's completeness Truly found in God's own way. Ruby Lamont.

IN announcing the eighth volume of THE CONTRIBUTOR, we desire to thank its patrons and those who have contributed of their talent to make its pages interesting, for the prosperity and success which has thus far attended the publication of our Magazine. While we have had many difficulties to surmount in endeavoring to issue a first class publication, that should, in all respects, be representative of the education, faith and purpose of the young men and women of Zion, our effort has been met with a cordial sentiment of good will and with substantial endorsement that has encouraged us, and makes it possible to announce the beginning of another volume under favorable prospects for its future. Owing to a disappointment in some type which had been provided for the new volume, we were compelled to delay the issue of the first number until now, instead of commencing the volume with the October number as heretofore; and while we might have issued a few days earlier, and called it the October number, it was deemed advisable, in the interest of the Magazine, to commence the volumes hereafter with the November number.

We have arranged for some improvements which we doubt not will be greatly appreciated by our readers. The letterpress is as good as it is possible to obtain in Utah. Our paper is of the best quality that is made in the Territory and the type used is all new, while the presswork, by the Deseret News Company's new two revolution steam press, is in advance of any in the past.

We take pleasure in directing attention to the title page of this number, which has been prepared for the volume

art of wood engraving at home, and is rapidly attaining great proficiency in his chosen profession; of which the originality of design and superior workmanship of our new title page affords the strongest proof.

The photo-engravings of scenes in and about Nauvoo, which will accompany the leading historical series are made by the Photo-Engraving Company of New York, from photographs taken by Elder B. H. Roberts, while visiting those scenes in search of information, expressly for the articles which he is writing for THE CONTRIBUTOR. The scenes all have a historical interest, which our people will fully appreciate. Each number will be adorned with a full page engraving.

The field in which THE CONTRIBUTOR circulates is one that is distinct from all others, and is broad enough for it to be well supported and to do a vast amount of good in promoting the gen eral welfare of the community. The following are some of the reasons which have been put forth to the public, why THE CONTRIBUTOR should be subscribed for and read by the people:

It is the Organ of the Mutual Improvement Associations, one of the best organizations ever formed for the cultivation and welfare of our young people.

It is the only authorized monthly periodical published among us, having an educational mission to perform which should be encouraged.

It is representative of our home literature, containing the best original prose and poetry that our people write.

It supplies, in concise form, literature that is pure in tone, elevated in thought, instructive and interesting in matter; such as you wish yourself and family to read.

It is regularly written for and read by the brightest minds among us. You cannot afford to be ignorant of their thoughts or indifferent to their public expressions.

It encourages home art; its illustrations being original, from designs and views prepared especially for it; and its letter-press and typography are the best.

It is a model volume when bound, containing nearly five hundred pages worth preserving, and engravings that are of interest now and for a hundred years to come.