thority, and the whole under such minute and competent supervision, that the certificate of any school might be recognized in any corresponding, or next advanced grade anywhere in the State or Territory. Once organized and equipped thus, the various parts of our public school system will become mutual supports of each other. There will be a common interest running through the whole, and a jealous care for the well being of each part characterizing every other part. It may be, that what I have outlined in this article may appear like the imprac ticable dreams of a visionary, rather than like things to be striven for, with confident expectation of attaining them. But let me remind the reader of the power there is in an idea. Ideas rule the world. Start an idea which has in it useful, practical truth, and it sooner or later becomes an actualized fact. If the ideal public school system here so imperfectly sketched, has a foundation in recognized principles of our civilization; if they are the legitimate outcome of our present partly developed schemes of public education, let us seize upon them and hasten their realization. O. H. Riggs. Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt.-Milton. OLD MILL OF SANS SOUCI. AFTER the close of the second Silesian war, in 1745, Frederick the Great, of Prussia, "last of the Kings," having purchased a glorious peace, at enormous expense of blood and treasure, sat down to utilize it in reviving and restoring his exhausted kingdom. As yet Frederick was known only as a successful general. And now that the war was finished, and peace-dearly bought,-had come at last, he was about to appear before the world in a new character, to prove himself no less the great ruler and statesman, than the invincible leader of armies. With indomitable energy and perseverance, he sat about the herculean task before him. Not satisfied with merely restoring his kingdom to its former state of prosperity, he prepared to inaugurate a series of extensive reforms, in all branches of the Government; and to organize that wonderful administration, which afterwards proved strong enough to survive the battering of all Europe, for seven long, terrible years. But sweeping changes of this kind, are not to be made in a day. To reform the Constitution of a great Kingdom, is a task demanding infinite care and forethought, and deep and constant study, and to a king, who was his own cabinet, and personally superintended the smallest details, as well as the most important affairs of Government, the constant pressure of public business, added to the pomp and circumstance of court life at that period, seemed to preclude the possibility of obtaining leisure to devote to the projected reforms. Frederick, therefore, that he might have a haven of refuge from the turmoil of official life, where he could, undisturbed, reflect upon his great designs, or take counsel of the few friends and advisers whom he admitted to his confidence, determined to erect for himself a small chateau, in some retired locality, and dedicate it to quiet and ease. The site selected, was the summit of a beautiful little knoll, about a mile distant from the royal palace at Potsdam. It was a very secluded and picturesque location. On every side, a rolling country stretched away, clad, here and there, with woods, and yielding to the delighted vision, bright and varied prospects of hill and dale, of green, waving foliage, and sparkling waters; while at the foot of the knoll, lay a little valley, down which murmured a lazy brook. In this lovely spot, Frederick caused a pretty little residence, in the Louis Quatorze style, to be built, and in it the OLD MILL OF SANS SOUCI. greatest part of his subsequent life was spent. A mere chance, gave the chateau the name by which it afterwards became famous. After its completion, the king, ever full of strange whims and fancies, had several tombs prepared, in the garden which surrounded it, where he intended that himself and certain members of his family should be laid. Walking there one day with his friend, the Marquis D'Argens, in reflective mood, he thougtfully surveyed his future narrow resting place, and said, with a sigh, "Oui, alors je serai sans-souci!" The words were taken up, and repeated on all sides, and, eventually, gave to the residence its name, Sans-souci. A singularly appropriate one, which Carlyle characteristically translates: "No bother." This little palace, situated in the midst of delight ful gardens and pleasant woods, the king naturally thought, would prove, in its calm retirement, a veritable "oasis of green joy," in the dull round of public duty. But alas for his expectations, the best laid schemes of kings, as well as of mice and men, "gang aft agley." Scarcely was he settled in the new residence, when he became uncomfortably conscious of a disturbing element in the vicinity. Directly opposite the chateau, and across the valley that lay below it, stood a venerable, and weather-beaten windIt was not unpicturesque; and chateau was building, had mill. while the 247 officer of the king's household, who came to complain of the nuisance, and to negotiate for the purchase of the mill, for the land on which it was built, though adjoining the royal estate, was no part of it, but belonged in fee simple to the miller himself. The officer, however, found that the miller was entirely unwilling to part with his property-absolutely refusing either to sell it, or stop his mill. In vain did he offer him far more than the value of the mill-in vain did he threaten him with the king's displeasure. The miller remained immovably fixed in his determination; answering only, that in the old mill, his father, and before him, his grandfather, had earned their bread; and he, too, would live and die there, and leave it as an inheritance to his children, and with this reply, the officer was fain to return to the king. Frederick, though piqued at the failure of his mission, was not a little curious to see for himself this obstinate miller, who, though one of the humblest of his subjects, yet dared to brave his royal displeasure. He, therefore, in one of his morning walks, stopped at the mill, and entered into con versation with its owner. But the latter was quite as refractory with the king as he had been with his messenger. Frederick argued with him, remonstrated with him, and finally offered him another mill, in a better site, together with a handsome bonus, in exchange for his property. To all persuasion, to all offers, the miller seemed, with its great sails sweeping made but one reply:-he would never aroun cl, rather a quaint adjunct to the But when Frederick came landscape. hither to enjoy the much-desired peace and quietness, his studies by day, and his repose by night, were alike broken into, and disturbed by the unceasing clattering, creaking, and jarring noises which arose from the old mill. Whenever the wind blew, the sails went round; and as long as they turned, the uproar continued, there were but few interruptions. the location was a breezy one, and as Not many days had passed, therefore, before the miller, while pursuing his peaceful vocation, and grinding his neighbors' small grists of rye and bar ley, was surprised by the arrival of an leave the mill, which had descended to him from his forefathers. At last Frederick's supply of "the herb called patience," at best of times but a slender one, was exhausted. "You seem not to be aware," he exclaimed, "that I am the master, and that I can take by force what you refuse to give up to me!" "Oh!" said the miller, nothing daunted, "you cannot frighten me in that way; we have judges at Berlin!" The judges referred to were those of the Kammer Gericht's Tribunal, the high Court of Appeals of the kingdom. This tribunal, Frederick had found, on ascending the throne, in common with the other courts of justice of the kingdom, in a sad state of neglect and demoralization; and, | quietly permit his mill to be thus hemmed consequently, in great contempt among the people. He had devoted much care and attention to new modeling its constitution, and reviving its authority. Having appointed as justices men of undoubted integrity, he had placed in their hands, to be administered by them, the revised code of laws, known as the "Code Frederick," which was a great improvement upon the previous semi-barbarous laws of the kingdom. He had aided them by his countenance and authority, and had in every way striven to make the court worthy of popular esteem and trust. There could be no more striking commentary on the success of his endeavors, and the confidence of the people at large, in the court and its administration of justice, than this answer of the miller's. Viewed in this light, it was by no means ungrateful to the king; but it convinced him, at the same time, that there was no hope of overcoming the miller's obduracy by negotiation. Nor did he wish to carry out his threat and take the coveted mill by force. Partly, perhaps, that he was himself afraid that the courage and integrity of his judges would defeat his designs; and partly, that he realized that so flagrant a breach of the laws, on the part of the king, would not tend to elevate them in the estimation and respect of the country. He, therefore, concluded to resort to strategy; and cast about for a plan by which, with a show of, at least, legal right, he could compel the miller to surrender his patrimony. The royal estate bordered upon and nearly surrounded the scanty strip of ground on which the mill stood; so that it was but a few yards from its walls to the boundary of the park. Just inside this line, and on his own domain, the king caused to be built a strong and high wall, almost enclosing the mill. The solid masonry was carried daily higher and higher, until it effectually cut off the the wind from the sails, and the mill stood motionless and silent. The noise ceased, peace and quiet reigned supreme and the king's cause seemed to triumph. But the miller was not a man to stand aside with his hands in his pockets, and up in stone walls and his occupation to be taken from him. He prepared to make a vigorous protest; and scarcely was the wall completed when he brought suit against the king, in the court at Berlin, before mentioned, for maliciously and unjustly depriving him of the wind of heaven, upon which his livelihood depended, and in which he claimed a prescriptive right by virtue of many years' unobstructed possession. The case was a knotty one, and was ably defended by the king's counsel; but the injustice was apparent. Moreover, Frederick, when he entrusted his revised code of laws to the judges, had given this explicit command: "If a suit arises between me and one of my subjects, and the case is a doubtful one, you should always decide against me." Under these instructions, the case was decided in favor of the plaintiff, with the decree, "The king shall give the miller back his wind." To oppose the decree was to destroy at one blow all that respect for the courts and the administration of law, which he had labored so earnestly to establish among the people. There seemed nothing left for him to do but to submit to the judgment, and acknowledge himself defeated. Such a course, however, was very remote from Frederick's character. For it is a remarkable fact in the history of his career that, although, in the many contests of greater or less importance in which he was engaged, he was not always able to gain the desired advantage himself, yet he very rarely failed to prevent his adversary from doing so, naturally regarding a drawn battle as greatly preferable to a defeat. Setting his great wits, so apt for treason's stratagems and spoils, to work upon this small matter, he hit upon an exceedingly unique and original plan by means of which he thought to carry out, if not the spirit, at least the letter of the decree, and at the same time revenge himself upon the miller for his stubbornness. The latter worthy was one morning enjoying a peaceful pipe before his silent mill in the shade of the king's wall; and wondering, perhaps, when its demolition vain. OLD MILL OF SANS SOUCI. 249 would be commenced. From his repose | Potsdam, on taking a pleasant ride of a and pleasant reflections he was aroused mile southwardly from that military town, by the irruption of an army of masons, will be amply rewarded for his trouble carpenters and laborers sent by the king's by a visit to the famous little chateau of command, not to tear the wall down, but Sans-souci, fairly redolent of associato raise the mill above it. Prayers, pro- tions of the great Frederick, and the testations and menaces were equally wonderful Voltaire. He will be shown It was the king's will that the mill the suits of three rooms occupied by the should go up, and up it went. The king, the iron bedstead on which he slept workmen were many and willing and their and the old soft felt hat which served hands were skillful; so that it was not him for a night cap. A walk of a few long before it was perched on a massive rods from the palace, through the beautisubstructure high above the surrounding ful gardens which surround it, will bring wall. And the idle sails catching again him to the old mill; and, for a small the "antient and accustomed wind," as douceur to the crusty old Prussian janitor it blew the valley, wheeled merrily in charge, he may be shown through it, round as of yore. The miller, finding climb up to the very roof and hear the further appeals and remonstrances utter- story which has just been narrated.— ly fruitless, was at last obliged to resign Selected. himself to the unalterable, and ascended to his mill to pursue his calling as best he could in its new and elevated position, But as he was a man well up in years, of portly habit of body and long used to a quiet and sedentary life, he soon succumbed to the unwonted exertion of ascending and descending so many steps, lines, beginning: and was up laid beside those ancestors to whose memory he had been so stubborn- wall. the And it is to this day preserved by Prussian government with the greatest care, just as it was when the miller died, more than a century ago. There it stands, its ancient and crumb ling sides its gaunt partly overrun with ivy, and against the sky; while the surrounding and embowered in the foliage of trees and shrubbery, forming altogether, a most striking and picturesque monument to the eccentricity of a great king and the sturdy independence of his subject. The traveler who finds himself in An amusing incident occured in Ghent, while the American and British plenipotentiaries were forming a treaty of A peace between the two countries. looker-on might have seized it to quote against the Americans, Shakspeare's "The man that hath no music in himself." The authorities of the city, anxious to honor the representatives of the two nations, proposed to give a grand musical entertainment. The leader of the band called upon the Americans to get their national air. The question was imme diately raised by the ministers-Adams, Clay and Bayard—as to whether "Hail Columbia" or "Yankee Doodle" was our national air. Having settled that to the Mr. Adams, looking at Mr. Clay, said, "I can't do it; I never sung or whistled EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. BENJAMIN DISRAELI, Earl of Beaconsfield, Knight of the Garter, and exPrime Minister of Great Britain, died in London, on the morning of April 19th. He was seventy-five years of age, and his death closed the earthly career of the most remarkable political genius of the nineteenth century. The story of his life is a continual example of courage, endurance, patience and pluck. He commenced his career with the world against him, and rose in the face of opposition, from the novelwriting fop of the time of George the Fourth, to the loftiest height to which a British subject can attain-the dignity of Premier. This, however, was his life's ambition, to realize which he ventured everything; and, trusting in God and his own indomitable will, was confident of winning it from the moment he entered the lists in the political arena, where he has been so distinguished for nearly half a century. On one occasion, when he was a young man, about entering Parliament, Disraeli was introduced to Lord Melbourne, then Prime Minister. That genial statesman was struck with his appearance and deigned to chat with him familiarly. He, in the course of conversation, turned to him with a smile and said: "Well, Mr. Disraeli, what is your idea in entering Parliament? What is your ambition?" The latter immediately and earnestly replied: "To be Prime Minister of England, my lord." Such an announcement, coming from a young man, then known only as a dandy and fashionable novelist, was the sublimest audacity, but it was meant, and the lofty goal which he had thus set for himself, he kept in sight and struggled toward with a grit and perseverance that never were surpassed by any hero of history, until at last he attained it. As a son of the Jewish race, he had enormous obstacles to encounter, there existing a universal abhorrence of that people in the traditions of the English nobility. Besides the prejudice of his birth, the obstacles in his way were increased by his singular personal characteristics. His manner, speech and dress were often alluded to as most conspicuous for violating the prevailing fashion, or so outrageously overdoing it, as to amount to the same thing. He was not unconscious of the difficulties his birth and peculiar traits made for him, but with his wonderful pluck, he resolved to live down and overcome them; and by patience, perseverance and good temper, he at last succeeded. When he entered Parliament, 1837, being elected as member from Maidstone, after having failed of election on four previous occasions, he was extremely jubilant and confident, looking upon his position as a sure stepping-stone to fame and power. He then commenced his political life, at the same time that Victoria ascended the throne. The Queen, by the way, has ever highly honored and esteemed him as her favorite statesman in power, and always her most valuable friend. On the occasion of Disraeli's first speech, in Parliament, he encountered a reception that doubtless left its impression on his after life. He followed Daniel O' Connell, the Irish statesman, known as the "Thunderer of the House," and was greeted with perfect silence, until he commenced to deliver his prepared speech. In the delivery, he became so grandiloquent, employing such profuse and, it is said, ridiculous gestures, that he brought down upon him the scoffs and ridicule of the assembly. As he proceeded, the laughter and hisses of his opponents completely overcame the cheering of his friends. He, however, persisted to the end of his |