heard people gravely discuss the possibility of excluding from histories, from school histories especially, the adjective "great," wherever it is used to imply success unaccompanied by moral excellence. Alfred the Great might be permitted to retain his title. Like the "blameless Ethiops," he is safely sheltered from our too penetrating observation. But Alexander, Frederick, Catherine, and Louis should be handed down to future ages as the "well-known." Alexander the Well-Known! We can all say that with clear consciences, and without implying any sympathy or regard for a person so manifestly irregular in his habits, and seemingly so devoid of all altruistic emotions. It is true that Mr. Addington Symonds has traced a resemblance between the Macedonian conqueror, and the ideal warrior of the Grecian camp, Achilles the strong-armed and terrible. Alexander, he maintains, is Achilles in the flesh; passionate, uncontrolled, with an innate sense of what is great and noble; but "dragged in the mire of the world and enthralled by the necessities of human life." The difference between them is but the difference between the heroic concep-
