An Appreciation

:

926 IMPROVEMENT ERA

is pulsating with life and vitality. British America and the United

States will be interlaced with railroads from the Atlantic to the

Pacific. Already there are $636,000,000 of American money in-

vested in Canada. More will follow.

What will another century of peace bring, basing conclusions

on the history of the past hundred years? The thought staggers

one. Civilization is moving at a tremendous rate. This is the

grandest age of all time. Man is conquering every obstacle that

challenges his world-wide conquest. The march of progress is as

irresistible as the ebb and flow of waters. The subjugation of the

earth is sure. Man has fixed his eye on the sun and will not be

satisfied with the star.

Anglo-Saxons must lead the nations up the scale of industrial,

social and spiritual evolution. Individually and collectively, they

must stand together for all that is noble and just. As we frame

these sentences, there is draped before us the banners of the two

English speaking nations, resting calmly, fold within fold and in ;

beholding them so associated, we cannot refrain from exclaiming

with the poet

"And let their varying tints unite,

And form in heaven's light

One arch of Peace."

MAGRATH, ALTA, CANADA

An Appreciation

(To Rufus Sncll, Sr.)

I hope and trust, dear friend, I've made a friend

Whose value I do much appreciate.

One who has lived, and loved, and suffered, and whose fate

To labor late and early, and to wait

In life's decline with patience and with trust

The dissolution of thy clay to dust,

O, heart of gold, thine anchor still to^b-e

In Him who died for us to make us fre,e.

And may He make the sunset of thy years

All sweet and holy and all free from fears.

Rest thou in Him, O Patriarch and -true,

Your life of noble effort speaks for you,,

The gods have loved thee! hence thy crown of years;

Thy priest and kingship through this vale of years;

Thy power to do, and dare build and subdue;

Form, fashion, execute, and still prove true.

And when thy soul art weary of the weight

Of time-encrusted burdens, and the late

Flame of Life's Lamp but dimly burns and low,

May God's own face light up thy way to go

Swift through death's shadow and thy mother's kiss

Be thy sweet greeting into realms of bliss.

Sarah E. Hawley Pearson