Your own phantom, your Republic, your experiment to prove that all men are born free and equal,--what is it to-day ?" Knowles lifted his head, looking out into the brown twilight.

Some word of pregnant meaning flashed in his eye and trembled on his lip; but he kept it back.

His face glowed, though, and the glow and strength gave to the huge misshapen features a grand repose.
"You talk of To-Day," the old man continued, querulously.

"I am tired of it.

Here is its type and history," touching a county newspaper,--"a fair type, with its cant, and bigotry, and weight of uncomprehended fact.