of great current interest, and then to pass quickly on to something new. In dealing with topics of interest of local importance, the paper has long been noted for exhaustive special articles by writers of accuracy and fitness for their task. Its New York City staff comprises a general correspondent, a political observer, a chronicler of business failures, an accomplished art critic, a fashion writer, a theatrical correspondent, and three general news correspondents, using the wires. The Herald is something more than a Boston paper. It has a wide reach, and employs electricity more freely than did the oldtime newspaper the post-horse.
In its closely-printed columns the Herald has, during the last decade, given to its readers a cyclopædia of the world's daily doings. Portraitures of men of affairs done by skilled writers, the fullest records of contemporaneous events, the gossip and news of the chief towns of the globe,—all this has made up a complete record to which the future historian may turn.
To manage such a paper requires a coördination of forces and an intellectual breadth of view deserving to be ranked with the work and attributes of a successful general. Not to wait for the slow processes of legislation, to be up and ahead of the government itself, to be alert and untiring—this is the newspaper ideal. How near the Herald has come to this, its enduring popularity, its great profits, and its wide fame and influence, best show.
A GLIMPSE.
By Mary H. Wheeler.
We met but once; ' twas many years ago.
I walked, with others, idly through the grounds
Where thou did'st minister in daily rounds.
I knew thee by thy garb, all I might know.
Sister of Charity, in hood like snow.
My heart was weary with the sight and sounds
Of sick and suffering soldiers in the wards below.
Disgusted with my thoughts of war and wounds.
'Twas then, by sudden chance, I met thine eyes.
What saw I there? A light from heaven above,
A gleam of calm, self-sacrificing love,
A smile that fill'd my heart with glad surprise,
Reflected in my breast an answering glow.
And haunts me still, wherever I may go.
Pittsfield, N. H.
