belt of pasture and its poles of snow and
ice; and wandering over that green belt for a little while man the
pasturing animal--with the mystery of his ever being there and the
mystery of his dust--with nothing ever added to him, nothing ever
lost out of him--his only power being but the power to vary the
uses of his powers.

"Then there is the other side, the side of the new. I like to
think of the marvels that the pasturing animal has accomplished in
our own country. He has had new thoughts, he has done things never
seen elsewhere or before. But after all the question remains, what
is our characteristic mettle? What is the mettle of the American?
He has had new ideas; but has he developed a new virtue or carried
any old virtue forward to characteristic development? Has he added
to the civilizations of Europe the spectacle of a single virtue
transcendently exercised? We are not braver than other brave
people, we are not more polite, we are not more honest or more
truthful or more sincere or kind. I wish to God that some virtue,
say the virtue of truthfulness, could be known throughout the world
as the unfailing mark of the American--the mettle of his pasture.
Not to lie in business, not to lie in love, not to lie in
religion--to be honest with one's fellow-men, with women, with
God--suppose the rest of mankind would agree that this virtue
constituted the characteristic of the American! That would be fame
for ages.

"I believe that we shall sometime become celebrated for preeminence
in some virtue. Why, I have known young fellows in my office that
I have believed unmatched for some fine trait or noble quality.
You have met them in your classes."

He broke off abruptly and remained silent for a while.

"Have you seen Rowan lately?" he asked, with frank uneasiness: and
receiving the reply which he dreaded, he soon afterward arose and
passed brokenly down the street.

For some weeks now he had been missing Rowan; and this was the
second cause of his restlessness and increasing loneliness. The
failure of Rowan's love affair was a blow to him: it had so linked
him to the life of the young--was the last link. And since then he
had looked for Rowan in vain; he had waited for him of mornings at
his office, had searched for him on the streets, scanning all young
men on horseback or in buggies; had tried to find him in the
library, at the livery stable, at the bank where he was a depositor
and director. There w