THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. the classic beauties of Greece, the dark-eyed girls of Naples, the sparkling dames of Paris, the brown-haired girls of Eng- land, and the soft, voluptuous women of the Eastbut for all those qualities of mind and body that make the lovely sex irresistible I have seen no wo- men that equal the fair daugh- ters of the Monumental City. They make Baltimore the so- cial Athens of America. In 1730, the site of the South- ern metropolis was half swamp, half farm. The domain upon which the city was built was sold by Mr. Carroll for forty shillings an acre. Twenty txvo years later, only twenty- five houses marked the spot which now numbers nearly four hundred thousand peo- ple, and one brig and one sloop formed the entire shipping of a port which is now the second in importance on the Atlaiitic coast. The destruction of Acadia, whose story has been told with such sweet pathos in Longfel- lows Evangeline, drove to Baltimore many French exiles from their once happy home. In 1756 occurred this first un- migration, which was destined NE bright autumn evening, about a to give a distinctive character to the busi- quarter of a century ago, the late ness and social aspects of the city. John P. Kennedy gave a small dinner Friendless, homeless, hopeless, wandered they from ~)arty at his pleasant home on North Cal- city to city, vert Street, Baltimore. The entertain- From the cold lakes of the North to sultry South- ment was in honor of Washington Irving ens savannahs. and N. P. Willis, who always made Mr. The band of refugees that settled in Bal- Kennedys house their house during their timore were frugal, industrious, and re- frequent visits to Washington. Upon fined. They established themselves in this occasion the table was graced by the South Charles Street, which was for many presence of several of the most beautiful years known as Frenebtown, and where women of Baltimorethe only women souse of their quaint old houses are still that, in his later years, made Irving regret standii~g, iii striking contrast to the im- that he was no longer young. After the posing warehouses of modern times erect- ladies had retired, and the gentlemen ed in the immediate neighborhood. The were sitting over the wine, N. P. Willis, French Revolution and the insurrection who, whatever else may be said about him, of San Domingo drove thousands of exiles certainly possessed an exquisite apprecia- to Baltimore; these, with the English tion of the graces and refinements of so- Quakers, Scotch rrserchants, Irish iinmi- cml life, said grants, and German refugees during the I have seen the womeii of many lands Napoleonic wars, conibined to form the ELLIN NORTH MOALE. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 21 cosmopolitan character which has always distinguished Baltimore society, and made it so attractive to strangers. Mr. John Moale, a native of Devonshire, England, owned that portion of land, in- cluded within the present corporate limits of the city of Baltimore, known as Moales Point. This tract was originally selected as the site of the future city, but Mr. Moale, who believed there were iron mines on his land, availed himself of his position as a member of the Colonial Legislature to de- feat the plan, and the northwestern instead of the south branch of the Patapsco was chosen. We know not whether Mr. Moale realized his expectations from the iron mine, but we know his want of foresight deprived his descendants of a gold mine which might have been realized from the sale of city lots. The son of this prudent merchant, Mr. John Moale, Jun., became a prominent citizen of Baltimore: he served as one of the Town Commissioners for many years; was one of the original Sons of Libertyan association organized in Baltimore in 1766 for the purpose of pro- testing against the encroachments of the British government; he took an active part in the stirring events in Baltimore that preceded the American Revolution, and was a member of the Correspondence Committee, and a delegate to the Provin- cial Convention of 1774. After the war he was for many years one of the judges of the Criminal Court for Baltimore city. He married Ellin North, daughter of Cap- tain Robert North, an English gentleman, who was one of the first settlers of Balti- more, and one of the commissioners ap- pointed by the Maryland Legislature to lay out the town. Ellin North was the first white child born in Baltimore; this event took place in 1741, when the place did iot contain one hundred inhabitants. She lived to see it a city containing a pop- ulation of seventy thousand. In 1824, when Lafayette visited Baltimore, he call- ed to see this venerable lady, then in her eighty-fourth year. She died in March, 1825, having survived her husband more than a quarter of a century. Their de- scendants have always held the highest social position in the city which their an- cestors helped to make prosperous. On the walls of the Maryland Historical Society is a rough but interesting map of Baltimore town in 1752. It is in ink, and is supposed to have been drawn by John Moale, Jun., in his youth. Every mdi- vidual house (there were twenty-five in all) which the place then contained can be counted on this map, including two taverns, one church (St. Pauls), and one school, but no newspaper, for Baltimore advertisements then, and for some years afterward, appeared in the Maryland Ga- zette, published at Annapolis. What a change has taken place since that old map was made! In October, 1880, Baltimore cel- ebrated its sesquicentennial. The twenty- five houses of 1752 had increased to ninety thousand in one hundred and twenty-eight years; three hundred thousand strangers joined the resident population in viewing the novel and brilliant street pageants, which continued for a week. So early as 1770 there was an aristo- cratic class in Baltimore, educated and wealthy, who lived in splendor, and dress- ed in velvet and laces. The lines were very strictly drawn between the aristocracy and the lower classes. The manners of the ladies and gentlemen were elegant and courteous, but rather stately and ceremoni- ous. Hospitality was general and bound- less. The ladies wore pyramids of pasted hair surmounted by turbans, and their jewelled stomachers and tight-laced stays held their bodies as in a vise. Their trains were fifteen feet long. A favorite dress of the ladies was a blue satin gown and white satin petticoat; the shoes were celes- tial blue, with rose-colored rosettes. The ladies rouged, and indulged in all kinds of extravagance, sometimes paying their coif- feur a salary of one thousand crowns a year. The gentlemen wore elaborately powdered wigs, with b]ue or maroon vel- vet coats, the skirts of which were stiffen- ed with buckram so as to make them stand out; their heads were covered with three- cornered hats, elaborately laced with gold or silver galloon; the neck was encircled by a white cravat with long lace ends; the coat sleeves were trimmed around the wrist with ruffles of deep lace; their breeches were of black satin or red cloth, tight and plain, and buckled at the knee. They carried a gold or ivory headed cane, five feet long, in addition to a sword, and wore square-toed, low-quartered shoes, with sil- ver or gold buckles, while their stockings were tightly strapped over their calves, and carefully gartered at the knee. One of the finest representatives of Maryland women at this period, and a lit- tle earlier, was Elizabeth Calvert, daugh- ter of Benedict Calvert, the son of Charles, 22 HAIIPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the fifth Lord Baltimore. isiting Eng- land, she was seen at a court ball by Ben- amin West, who, struck by her beauty, requested permission to paint her portrait. She complied, and the result was an ex- quisite miniature, now in the possession of her grandson, Dr. William Frederick Steu- art, of Catonsville, Maryland. It is said to be the only miniature ever painted by West. A copy of it accompanies this ar- ticle. Miss Calvert returned to Maryland, and married Dr. Charles Steuart: from them some of the most distinguished fam- ilies in the State are descended. She died in 1814. One of the most prominent of the French 6mig ~s that settled in Baltimore was Louis Pascault, whose beautiful daugh- ter Henrietta was a reid fling belle at the time Elizabeth Patterson captivated Je- rome Bonaparte. Among the French naval officers who accompanied Jerome on that visit to Baltimore, which was to result so remarkably, was Lieutenant Ru- bell. While the false and fickle Jerome was vowing eternal fidelity to Miss Pat- terson, Rubell fell in love with her inti- mate friend Miss Pascault. They were both married about the same time; but how different their future destinies! Eliz- abeth Patterson played at high stakes. She aimed at a crown, and reacheddis grace from an imperial despot, but attain- ed a social position in Europe which few American women have ever enjoyed. The fastidious Baron Bonstetten said of Ma- dame Bonaparte: Si elle nest pas reine de Westphalie, dIe est an moms reine des cceurs Rubell was older than Jerome, and Na- poleon held him partially responsible fo his brothers m~salliancc in. Baltimore. The Emperor vented some of his wrath upon this occasion upon Lieutenant Ru- bell, who deemed it the better part of valor to absent himself from France for the pre- sent, and for some time after his marriage he resided in a small house belonging to and adjoining the residence of his father- in - law. Eleonora, another daughter of Mr. Pascault, married Columbus ODon- nell, one of the merchant princes of Bal- timore. This lady seemed to possess the spring of youth and beauty which Ponce de Leon vainly sought to discover. When past threescore and ten, she retained the vivacity, fascination, and loveliness of twenty-five, and was a belle every season at Saratoga. Josephine, the youngest of these Baltimore beauties, mar ied the son of Albert Gallatin, the distinguished states- man and diplomatist. Mrs. Gallatin is still living at Paris, the last survivor of this beautiful trio of sisters. Mrs. Columbus ODonnells eldest daugh- ter, Josephine, married Mr. Thomas S. Lee, the grandson of Governor Lee, of Mary- land. Their summer residence is Need- wood, Frederick County, Maryland. Ele- onora, the second daughter, marrie Mr. Adrian Iselin, of New York; Emily, the youngest daughter, married Colonel Sol Hillen, formerly Mayor of Baltimore. By the death of her father, in 1873, Mrs. Hillen acquired a fortune of $500,000, be- ing previously in very moderate circum- stances; this acquisition of wealth was the occasion of a splendid ball, which was one of the leading social events in Baltimore during the winter of 1877. C. Oliver ODonnell, the eldest brother of Mrs. Hil- len, married Miss Helen Carroll, the great- granddaughter of Charles Carroll of Car- rollton, and sister of the late Governor of Maryland. For more than a hundred ye rs the Howards have occupied a distinguished position in the social, political, and mili- tary annals of Maryland. Bra e in the field, wise in the Senate, and polished in society, they have always maintained a ELIZABETH CALVERT. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 23 -reputation which has made them the peers of the proud aristocracy of England, from which they are descended. The most dis- tinguished of this family was Colonel -John Eager Howard. He was born at the seat of his ancestorsin what was then Baltimore County, but which has long been absorbed by the rapidly growing city on the 4th of June, 1752. When the war of the Revolution commenced he joined the Continental army, with the rank of captain, in the old Maryland Line. At Monmouth, at Camden, at Cowpens, and at Eutaw he displayed a courage which won for him the warmest recognition from Congress, from Washington, and from Maryland. It was Colonel Howard who first led the American troops to a bayonet charge against British veterans. At Cowpens he charged with his brave Marylanders against Tarletons famous legion, and swept them from the field. At the close of the day he held the swords ~ -of seven British officers whom he had tak- en prisoners, including General OHara, who had clung to his stirrups asking quar- ter. At Eutaw a portion of the American army showed signs of weakness, and were about to retreat, when General Greene or- dered Colonel Howard to reserve his fire -and charge with the bayonet. He did so in the face of a close and murderous fire, which was poured into them as they ad- vanced. Howards regiment was met by the Buffs, a brave Irish corps. A hand to hand fight took place, the ranks min- gled together, bayonets were crossed, and -a terrible death-struggle ensued; but the Buffs were at last obliged to give way, and the battle was won. At the close of this splendid charge General Greene rode up and complimented Colonel Howard and his men in the highest terms, and in his -dispatch to Congress said: Nothing could exceed the gallantry of the Maryland Line. -Colonel Howard and all his officers dis- played the most uncommon bravery, and the free use of the bayonet by this corps gave us the victory. Howard deserves a statue of gold no less than Roman and Grecian heroes. On every field where he was engaged Colonel Howard won the title which was afterward conferred by Napoleon on Marshal Neythe bravest -of the brave. At the close of the Revolution, Maryland showed her appreciation of his gallant services by three times electing him Gov -ernor of the State, and afterward sending him twice to the United States Senate. He was also invited by Washington to a seat in his cabinet as Secretary of War, which he declined. Washington, in sev- eral letters still in possession of the fam- ily, deplored his refusal to accept the posi- tion as a loss to himself and to his country. The President endeavored, through the interposition of a friend, to induce Colonel Howard to change his resolution, but find- ing all efforts vain, he finally wrote: The reasons you have assigned carry convic- tion with them, and must, however reluc- tantly, be submitted to. In 1814, when the British army, flushed with their easy victory of Bladensburg, advanced on Baltimore, some of the more timid citizens proposed to secure their property by a cowardly capitulation. The veteran Howard answered this proposition in a manner worthy of his heroic charac- ter: I have as much property at stake as most persons, and I have four sons in the field, but sooner would I see my sons wel- teriug in their blood, and my property re- duced to ashes, than so far disgrace the country. Happily such brave counsel prevailed, and the Baltimore militia drove the invaders back to their ships. Colonel Howard gave to the city of Baltimore the JOHN EAGER HOWARD. 24 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ground upon which the Washington mon- ument stands, the corner-stone of which was laid with imposing ceremonies on the 4th of July, 1815. This was the first mon- ument erected to Washington; hence the title of the Monumental City. John Eager Howard inherited from his father the splendid estate of Belvidere, and after the Revolutionary war he built there the beautiful mansion which was recently pulled down to make way for the exten- sion of Calvert Street. In the rear of the house there was a colonnade which com- manded a fine view of the river and bay to the southeast, while from the front of the house lovely vistas of park scenery met the eye in every direction. Howards Park was indeed a princely estate, in- cluding all that portion of Baltimore ex- tending from Joness Falls on the east to Eutaw Street on the west, and from Pratt Street on the south to the extreme north- ern limits of the city. These boundaries now include all the most beautiful and fashionable streets of Baltimore, and had the Howards retained their original es- tate, the family would have derived, from ground-rents alone, an income surpassing that which the Duke of Westminster de rives from the land which he owns in the city of London. Colonel Howard married Margaret Chew, daughter of Benjamin Chew, who was Chief Justice of Pennsylvania under George III. Miss Chew was the lady in whose honor Major Andrd rode in the tourney of the Mischianza fete. The marriage was celebrated at Judge Chews seat, Clifden, near Germantown, in 1787. Washington and other distinguished per~ sons graced the occasion by their presence. Colonel Howards first sight of the home of his bride was during the battle of Ger-~ mantown, when Chews house, which was~ occupied by the British, welcomed the Maryland Line with a shower of balls. Very few houses in this country have been the scene of so many brilliant social gatherings as Belvidere. Here came the old Revolutionary soldiers to fight their battles oer againGenerals Smith, Small- wood, and Williams of the old Maryland Line; Charles Carroll and the brilliant or- naments of the Baltimore bar, when that bar was the first in the countryPinkney, Harper, Winder, and Taney were frequent visitors. Here also came the Adamses, Winthrops, and Quincys from the North~ BELVIDERE, THE HOME OF THE HOWARDS. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. the Middletons, Pinckneys, and Hugers from the South, and distinguished stran- gers from France and England. In 1824, when Lafayette visited the United States for the last time, Colonel floward gave him a princely entertainment at Belvi- dere, which was one of the most brilliant affairs given to our illustrious guest dur- ing his triumphant progress through the country. Many hearts were lost and won in the beautiful groves of Belvidere. Many a lover s vow was whispered in the shady woody places where now are heard the busy hum of trade and the ceaseless noise of city cars. Many a stately minuet has been danced where baggage wagons hurry to and fro from the Union Ddp6t. In How- ards Park were held the encampments of the city militia, Fourth of July celebra- tions, political gatherings, barbecues, etc.; but all its glory has now passed away, and lives only in the memory of the few who are old enough to recollect the former splendor of Belvidere. Benjamin C. Howard, the third son of Colonel Howard, married Jane Grant Gil- mor, the eldest daughter of William Gil- mor. The bride had not completed her eighteenth year at the time of her marriage. The early married life of the young couple was passed at Belvidere, and Mrs. Howard, who is now an interesting lady past f our- score, has a very agreeable recollection of the gayety that reigned there when Col- onel John Eager Howard was the head of the house. Benjamin C. Howard was for several years a member of Congress from Maryland, and afterward for a long time the reporter of the Supreme Court of the United States. At the commencement of the civil war he resigned this position, and in 1861 was nominated, as the most popular man in the State, the Democratic candidate for Governor of Maryland, but withdrew, on the day of the election, to pervent a civil commotion in Baltimore. Charles Howard, the youngest son of the hero of Cowpens, married Miss Key, the daughter of the author of the Star-span- gled Banner. Mrs. William George Read was the last surviving child of Colonel Howard. She died last November a year, in the eightieth year of her age, within sight of the place where once stood the stately home of the Howards. Four generations of the Gilmor family have been prominent in the business and social circles of Baltimore. Robert Gil- mor, the founder of the family in this country, was born at Paisley, Scotland, on the 10th of November, 1748, and christen- ed the same day by the Rev. Dr. John Witherspoon, who was afterward presi- dent of Princeton College, and one of the signers of the Declaration of Independ- ence. John Gilmor, the father of Robert, was a wealthy manufacturer. At the early age of seventeen his son displayed so great an aptitude for business that his father took him into partnership. Within a year, however, from this time, Robert, who had previously made several successful busi- ness trips to London, now determined to further extend his commercial enterprises, and with an assortment of goods suitable for the American market, he embarked on the 15t1~ of July, 1767, for this country, and landed at Oxford, Maryland, toward the end of September. This little place was then much resorted to by British ves- sels to obtain the products of the coun- try. The young man realized fifteen hun- dred dollars from his venture, and being pleased with the country, determined to settle there. While on a visit to Dorches- ter County he made the acquaintance of his future wife, Miss Louisa Airey, daugh- ter of the Rev. Thomas Airey, with whose brother he formed a partnership before he had been in the country one year. On MRS. B. c. HOWARD. 26 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the 25th of September, 1771, he married, ing more largely the staple products of and after being engaged in business on the Maryland and Virginia, and deeming Mr. Eastern Shore of Maryland for over ten Gilmor a suitable person to represent the years, he removed to Baltimore, believing concern in Holland, they offered him a co- it offered a wider field for his business, partnership, Which was accepted. In ac- I\Ir. Gilmor soon developed a character cordance with this arrangement, Mr. Gil- of great prudence and industry, and show- mor sailed with his family on the 27th of ed a decided talent for making money. November, 1782, and arrived safely on the 12th of January, 1783, at his destination, where they met Captain Joshua Barney, on his way to America with the preliminary treaty of peace be- tween Great Britain, France, and the United States. At Paris Mr. Gilmor met John Adams, one of the negotiators of the treaty of peace, who gave him a letter addressed to Messrs. Wilhem and Jan Wil- link, the bankers of the United States in Holland, and one of the richest houses in Europe. This was the beginning of a commercial connection be- tween the Gihnors and the Willinks which continued from father to son for upward of fifty years, during which transactions took place to the amount of many millions of dollars. The house in Amsterdam under the management of Mr. Gilmor soon commanded an extensive business, extending all over Europe, and to the West Indies and the United States. Among the corre- spondents were the Barings, the Hopes, and other leading European houses. Eventual- ly the firm thus constituted was broken up by the death of Mr. Samuel Inglis, one of the Philadelphia partners. Mr. Among Mr. Gilmors business corre- Bingham, who was at that time living in spondents at this date were Messrs. Thomas London, wrote to Mr. Gilnior to come Willing and Robert Morris, of Philadel- there, with a view of arranging a partner- phia, both of whom were members of the ship with him. He did so, and the result Continental Congress, and the latter one was the establishment of the firm of Rob- of the signers of the Declaration of Inde- ert Gilmor and Co., of Baltimore, in which pendence. They traded under the firm of Mr. Bingham was the other member. By Willing and Morris. These gentlemen, his successful enterprises to all parts of the together with Mr. William Bingham, Mr. world, Mr. Gilmor, in the course of fifteen Willings son-in-law, anticipating a treaty years, became one of the merchant princes of peace after the surrender of Cornwallis, of Baltimore. were desirous of forming an establishment In 1799 the business connection with at Amsterdam for the purpose of export- Mr. Biugham was dissolved, and Mr. Gil- ROBERT GILMOR, JUN. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 27 mor associated his two sons, Robert and William, with him, under the firm name of Robert Gilmor and Sons. The corre- spondents of the old firm were continued to the new, and many years of commercial prosperity followed. Robert Gilmor, Jun., did most of the travelling for the firm, and was thus enabled to combine pleasure with profit. His fine personal appearance, at- tractive manners, and cultivated tastes made him a favorite guest in the first so- ciety of America and Europe. When a young man of twenty-two he visited Mount Vernon, and was entertained by Mrs. Washington, and shortly afterward he attended a grand ball given to General Washington in Philadelphia a few days before his retirement from office, and the next day was presented to him by Mr. Biugham. In speaking of this afterward, Mr. Gilmor said: I never shall forget the dignity and kindness of Washingtons manners. The Society of the Cincinnati cutered while I was there, and I had an opportunity of seeing him receive in the most affectionate manner those brothers in arms. Mr. Robert Gilmor, Jun., visited Europe four or five times, and travelled extensively. On one of these visits he spent a week at the seat of the Marquis of Londonderry on Loch Strangford, near Belfast, and in Dublin was entertained at dinner by Tom Moore, especially to meet Lady Morgan. In London, the Earl and Countess of Pembroke entertained him, and secured him desirable invitations else- where. At Paris, the Duke of Wellington gave Mr. Gilmor a dinner. He became acquainted with the Iron Duke through Mrs. Robert Patterson, of Baltimore, who afterward married the Marquis of Welles- ley, and whose sister was Lady Harvey, the wife of Sir Felton Harvey, the favor- ite aide and confidential secretary of Wel- lington. In the spring of 1818, Mr. Robert Gil- mor, Jun., sat to Sir Thomas Lawrence for his portrait. When finished, the art- ist pronounced it one of his best portraits. This portrait, a copy of which embellishes the present article, is now in the collection of Judge Robert Gilmor, a great-nephew of the original. For many years it has been regarded as among the finest speci- mens of portrait painting in the United States. When Lafayette visited Baltimore in 1824, Mr. Gilmor was chairman of the committee of arrangements of the grand ball given in honor of the distinguished guest. On the 28th of December, Lafay- ette dined with Mr. Gilmor, in company with a number of old Revolutionary of- ficers, including General Samuel Smith, Colonel John Eager Howard, and Colonel Paul Bentalon, in whose arms Pulaski died. In October, 1825, the Duke of Saxe- Weimar visited Baltimore, bringing letters of introduction to Mr. Gilmor, and was hospitably received. A daughter of William Cooke, president of the Bank of Maryland, was Mr. Gil- mor s first wife. She died in May, 1803. He spent the winter of 1806 in Charleston, South Carolina. Among his friends there was General Charles Cotesworth Pinck- ney, president of the Cincinnati Society, having succeeded General Washington. Another friend was John Rutledge, Jun., son of John Rutledge of the Revolution- ary army. During this visit Mr. Gil- mor had frequent opportunities of enjoy- ing the Southern hospitality for which Charleston was famous. The house of Major James Ladson was at that time one of the gayest in the city. Mr. Gilmor was a frequent visitor there, and became en- gaged to Sarah, one of Major Ladsons daughters. They were married on the 9th of April, 1807. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gilmor, Jun., nev- er had any children, and both being hos- pitably inclined, their house became the centre of social life in Baltimore. Every distinguished stranger who visited the city was entertained by them. Mr. Gilmor at an early age showed a taste for art, and he formed one of the finest collections of pic- tures in the United States. He was a lib- eral patron of American artists. He in- duced Gilbert Stuart to visit Baltimore, and secured many sittings for him. In April, 1826, Mr. and Mrs. Gilmor went to New York to attend the Italian opera, then for the first time introduced in the United States, by Signor Garcia, whose charming daughter Signorina Garcia (aft- erward the celebrated Malibran) was the chief attraction. It was an unusual thing in those days for persons to go so far to attend a public amusement, and the visit of the Gilmors was noticed in the news- papers. Much attention was paid to them in New York. The fortune of this gentle- man being ample, it was within his means to accumulate many valuable works, and take a generous part in public improve- ments. He continued to take the deepest 28 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. interest in the prosperity of Baltimore to the last, and died in 1849, universally la- mented. His younger brother, William, was married at an early age to Mrs. Marianne Drysdaie, a young widow of nineteen. She was a daughter of Isaac Smith, of Northampton County, Virginia. Mr. and Mrs. Gilmor had twelve children. Their eldest son, Robert, graduated at Harvard in 1828, and afterward went to Europe as attachd to the legation 4th Mr. Hives, our Minister to France. After remaining abro d, isiting places of interest, and meeting with a great deal of attention, he returned in the autumn of 1829. It was his good fortune during this trip to spend several days at Abbotsford with Sir Wal- ter Scott, and often referred to it with plea- sure. Mr. Gilmors country-seat was Glen- Ellen, in Baltimore County. He married Ellen Ward, daughter of Judge Ward, of Baltimore, whose memory is cherished as one of the most admired ladies that ever graced Baltimore society. Besides great beauty, she was rarely endowed with en- gaging manners, and a disposition so good, so gentle, and so sweet as to win friends on every side and amongst all classes. The Hon. Robert Gilmor, who has been for more than twelve yea s one of the judges of the Supreme Bench of Baltimore, is a son of this lady. He possesses the love of art which is hereditary in his family, and owns a number of fine paintings and en~ gravings formerly possessed by his rela- tive. Mr. William Gilmor, who married Miss Key, a descendant of Francis S. Key, and Colonel Harry Gilmor, who won dis- tinction as a dashing cavalry officer in the Confederate service during the late war are brothers of Judge Gilmor. Other branches of the family are represented, and in its links, by intermarriage, it has connections with many well-known Balti- more families. During the first quarter of this century Baltimore was a happy little town, with its social aspects more scrupulously de-- fined and determined than now. The as- semblies were aristocratically exclusive Almacks in its best days was not more so. The belles arid beaux danced and flirted with dignity and elegance, and supped on tea, chocolate, and sweet rusk perhaps with more satisfaction than the present belles and beaux derived from Mrs. Browns magnificent reception last winter. Greater deference was shown to ladies than in these busy and bustling days. A gallant of that time, says the late John P. Kennedy in his lecture on Baltimore Long Ago, accosted a lady on the street with a bow that required the whole side of the pavement to make it in, with a scrape of his foot, his cane thrust under his left arm till it projected behind along with his queue like the palisades of a cheval dc frise; and nothing could be more piquant than the lady as she re- ciprocated the salutation with a courtesy which seemed to carry her into the earth, with her chin bridled to her breast, and such a volume of dignity. From these same interesting reminiscences we learn that Baltimore Street in those days was enlivened by apparitions of grave matrons and stirring demoiselles moving erect like wooden and pasteboard figures of a pup- pet show. These were the grandmothers of the present generation, arrayed in gor- geous brocade and taffeta, luxuriously dis- played over hoops, with comely bodices laced around that ancient armor the stay, disclosing most perilous waists, and with sleeves that clung to the arm as far as the elbow, where they took a graceful leave ELLEN WARD GILMOR. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 29 in ruffles that stood off like the feathers of a bantam. And such faces as they bore along with tbem so rosy, so spirit- ed, with their hair all drawn back over cnshions till it elevated the eyebrows, giv- ing an amazing fierce and supercilious tone to the countenance, and falling in cataracts npon the shonlders. Then they stepped away with such mincing gait, un- conscious of many glances, with formida- ble points to the toes, and high tottering heels fancifully cut in wood, their tower- built hats crowned with tall feathers that waved aristocratically upward with each step, as if they took a pride in the slow paces of the wearer. Toward the close of the period thus humorously described, and when tbe se- vere arrangement of the hair had been greatly modified, one of the chief orna- ments of Baltimore society was Miss Isa- bella Pinkney, daughter of the famous orator William Pinkney. The position acquired by her father as the leader of the American bar, minister to half the courts of Enrope, and Attorney-General of the United States, opened to his danghter the best society of the time. At an early age she married Joseph White, whose fatber, Dr. John Campbell White, was one of the leaders of the Irish rebellion of 1798. Foreseeing the disastrous termination of that ill-advised outbreak, he escaped to America, and settled in Baltimore, where he became one of the leading physicians. One of Isabellas brothers was Edward C. Pinkney, who was pronounced by Edgar A. Poe to be the finest of American lyric poets. At an early age he entered the navy, where he passed six years, resigning in 1822 in order to challenge his superior officer, Commodore Ridgeley, who had un- wittingly given some offense to the junior officer. The commodore having declined the challenge, the fiery yonng midshipman posted him in the streets of Baltimore. After leaving the navy, Edward Pinkney stndied law, and in 1824 was admitted as a member of the Baltimore bar. At that time one of the most beantiful and accom- plished ladies in the city was Georgiana, daughter of Marcus McCansland, an Irish gentleman who settled in Baltimore to- ward the close of the last century. He had a large family of daughters, all of whom were beautifnl, bnt Georgiana sur- passed the rest. Her eyes were of a deep violet color; her glossy black hair fell over a forehead exquisitely shaped and as pure and white as polished marble, while on her cheek the rose and lily were equally blended. She played the harp, and sang di- vinely. Her beauty and accomplishments made her a much-admired belle. A lady now living in Baltimore remembers seeing one evening Edward Pinkney, Charles Carroll Harper, and Charles Carroll, the grandson of the signer, surrounding Miss McCausland, who was singing some favor- ite ballad while accompanying herself on the harp. These gentlemen were all by- ers of the fair Georgiana, but young Pink- ney carried the day by his manly beauty, his dashing manners, and the sweetness of his love songs. It was this lady to whom was addressed his beautiful serenade: Look out upon the stars, my love, And shame them with thine eyes, On which than on the lights ahove There hang more destinies. Nights heauty is the harmony Of hiending shades and lights; Then, lady, uplook out, and he A sister to the night! Sleep not: thy image wakes for aye Within any watching hreast. Sleep not: from her soft sleep should fly, Who rohs all hearts of rest. N~ y, lady, from thy slumhers hreak, And make this darkness gay With looks whose hri~htness ~vehl might make Of darker nights a day. ISABELLA PINENEY WHITE. 30 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Mrs. Somerville, another Baltimore lady, inspired his grateful Health, beginning: I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone A woman of her gentle sex The seeming paragon; To whom the hetter elements And kindly stars have given A form so fair that, like the air, Tis less of earth than heaven. Edward Pinkney and Georgiana Mc- Causland were married on the 12th Octo- ber, 1824, a few days after the groom had completed his twenty-second year. In 1825, Pinkneys poems were published in a thin volume, which is now so scarce that it has become one of the rare books iu American literature. Although these poems were mostly written when the poet was only twenty years old, they show no evidence of immaturity. They possess an original- ity, a beauty of rhythm, and a delicacy of imagination which seemed to proclaim to the world the advent of a master of song in the young Baltimore poet. Having shown what he could do, he did not con- tinue a poetical career, but accepted the Vosition of Professor of Rhetoric and Belles-Lettres in the University of Mary- land. In December, 1827, he was chosen editor of the Marylandcr, a powerful po- litical journal, at that time published in Baltimore. In this new position the ver- satility of his talents was displayed in a new field. Those who had admired his poetical genius and his legal ability were astonished to find a young man of twenty- five successfully coping with trained vet- erans in journalism. The independence and dignity with which he defended the truth and the boldness with which he ex- posed falsehood attracted the attention of the country, and a brilliant career seemed opening before him. But his days were already numbered. Early in the spring of 1828 a cruel malady obliged him to relinquish his editorial duties, and on the 11th of April, while his relatives were weeping for the loss of one so young, so beautiful, and so gifted, he begged them not to weep for him, for his death was a blessing, and expired without a sigh or a. struggle. His remains now lie in Green- mount Cemetery, where so many of the honored dead of Baltimore are buried. In 1816, Henry Didier, a young Balti- more merchant, met, in the studio of Sir Thomas Lawrence, John N. DArcy, an Irish gentleman, who, like himself, came to sit to the most celebrated portrait paint- er of his age. Meeting there daily, their acquaintance soon ripened into intimacy, and the result was the formation of a busi- ness partnership in Baltimore, and the marriage of Mr. DArcy to Amelia Didier, his partners sister. The transactions of the firm were large and extensive, iuclud- ing the West Indies and South America. In 1819, in the midst of the South Ameri- can struggle for independence, the Balti- more house sent two vessels with arms. and provisions to the assistance of the Chilians, who contracted to pay Messrs. DArcy and Didier $800,000 upon the de- livery of the cargoes in Chili. One of the vessels arrived safely; the other entered the port of Buenos Ayres, where the ves- sel was seized; but the valuable cargo was soon released, and taken across the Andes to Chili, where the arms contributed to securing the final independence of the Republic. The heirs of Messrs. DArcy and Didier have filed a claim against Chili in the State Department at Wash- ington for $800,000, and interest for sixty- two years, amounting in all to four mill- ions of dollars. Mr. DArcy was the HENRIETTA D ARCY WILSON. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 31 father of six daughters. who in the course personal beauty, possessed a vivacity of of time became leading ladies in Baltimore manner, a sprightliness in conversation, society. Henrietta, who was considered and a brilliant variety of accomplishments the most faultlessly beautiful woman in which made her the most famous belle of Baltimore between 1840 and 1850, in 1845 her time. After having half the young married Dr. William T. Wilson, a gentle- men of Baltimore at her feet, and refusing man of refined taste, and an intelligent a hundred offers, she niarried Mr. George patron of art. A younger sister, Ellen, Pendleton, of Winchester, Virginia, who who was also a great beauty, married The- odore Wetmore, of New York; Virginia D Xrcy married Hermann Von Kapif, a Baltimore merchant of German birth; Maria and Amelia married respectively Thomas J. Wilson and Rev. L. Van Bok- kelan; Margaret, the eldest of these charm- ing sisters, died unmarried. Mrs. Van Bok- kelan, the youngest, is the only survivor. Contemporary with the Misses DArcy was Miss Charlotte Robinson, daughter of Alexander C. Robinson, one of the mer- chant princes of Baltimore. Her mother was Miss Peale, daughter of Charles Wil- son Peale, the painter. Mrs. Robinsons beauty was remarkable even in a city so famous for its beautiful women as Balti- more. Her daughter, in addition to great was afterward for several years the pre- siding judge of Berkeley County, Vir- ginia. An English traveller who visited Balti- more described one of the belles of the city as possessing a supreme perfection of form and feature. He said he spoke of her as reverently as if he were drawing the portrait of the Austrian Empress or any other crowned beauty. He looked on that face as a wonderful picture, and so re- membered it. He confessed, Englishman as he was, that he had never beheld a countenance more faultlessly lovely. The pose of the small head, the sweep of the neck, resembled the miniatures of Giulia~ Grisi in her youth, but the lines were more delicately drawn, and the contour more re AMELIA DIDIER D ARCY. 32 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. fined; the broad open forehead, the brows firmly arched, without an approach to heaviness, the thin chiselled nostril and perfect mouth, cast in the softest feminine mould, reminded you of the first Napo- leon. Quick mobility of expression would have been inharmonious there. With all its purity of outline, the face was not se- vere or coldly statuesqueonly superbly serene, not lightly to be ruffled by any sudden revulsion of feeling: a face of which you never realized the perfect glo- ry till the pink-coral tint flushed faintly through the clear pale cheeks, while the lift of the long trailing lashes revealed the magnificent eyes, lighting up surely and slowly to the full of their stormy splendor. This language will not be considered exaggeration by those who remember Miss Mary Grafton Dulany in the prime of her youth and beauty. She is the daughter of Grafton L. Dulany, who ranked high at the Baltimore bar when it was graced by such men as Taney, Johnson, Mere- dith, Wirt, McMahon, and others. This lady married Mr. Gardiner G. Howland, of New York, whose father, bearing the same name, married Miss Louisa Mere- dith, also a Baltimore belle. Miss Mary Dulany was a particular favorite of Wash- ington Irving in his latter years. He fre quently met her at John P. Kennedys. One of the greatest attractions for him in Baltimore was the society of this charm- ing girl. She was married a year or two before his death, and a magnificent recep- tion was given to her in New York at the residence of Mr. Howland senior. Mr. Irving came down from Sunnyside to be present, although he was then in the sev- enty-fifth year of his age, and took great pleasure in speaking of the beauty of the bride, who was also, as he said, such a good girl. This was his last appearance in society. Of late years Mrs. Howland has almost retired entirely from the gay world, in order to devote herself to works of charity. We regret that photogra- phers both in this country and in Europe have failed to produce a correct likeness of Mrs. Howland; but judging from what those say who knew her well, she must have been the most beautiful bride that Baltimore has ever given to New York. I-Icr face recalled that of the Madonna di San Sisto, in which heaven and earth are said to meet upon Raphaels canvas. Baltimore has never been a clubable city. With three or four hundred thou- sand inhabitants, there are only three or four clubs, and the majority of these, in accordance with the peculiar spirit of the people, are of a social character. The Maryland Club is the oldest, the most pre- tentious, and the most conservative, and enjoys a wide reputation for its cuisine, although a fastidious English visitor once declared that it was pitilessly monoto- nous in its carte. Nowhere are terra- ROBERT GOODLOE RARrER. HARRIET LANE JOHNSON. THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. 33 pins, canvas-back ducks, and other delica- the tempting delicacies of the table, so cies of the Chesapeake prepared more de- lavishly supplied by the waters of the liciously than by the chef of the Mary- Chesapeake, and suggested that Balti- land. Most of the members are bons-vi- mores chief monument should be crown- vants. The cellars of the club are stocked ed by a canvas-back duck. Although this with wines of a fabulous age, including club is not so exclusive as formerly, it the famous Glenn, Hoffman, and Noble still prides itself upon having for its pre- Madeira, bottled in 1810, 1819, and 1826. siding officer a gentleman of long de- A supper at the Maryland is something scent. This position, which was once to remember, and worth a trip across the held by the son of a king, is now occu- Atlantic to the man who considers a good pied by the grandson of a Revolutionary meal the summum bonum of human cx- hero. istence. The Autocrat of the Breakfast A little less than a quarter of a century Table humorously attributed the want of ago a number of Baltimore artists and ppreciation of literature in Baltimore to others were in the habit of meeting one Voi.. Lxv.No. 355..3 EMILY MCTAVJSIL 34 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. evening in the week at the studio of Frank B. Mayer. Gradually, as the number in- creased, it was determined to organize a regular club, and in the winter of 18589 they established themselves at No. 40 St. Paul Street, the former residence of Dr. John Buckler, and adopted the name of the Allston Association. As the mem- bership continued to grow larger, the rooms were found inadequate, and in Feb- ruary, 1863, they removed to 64 Mount Vernon Place, known as the Oliver man- sion. Owing to the pronounced Southern sentiments of its members, the club-house was closed by order of General Schenck, commandant of the Middle Department, on the 30th of June, 1863, the first day of the battle of Gettysburg, when the result of the battle was uncertain, and the Con- federate army was hourly expected in Bal- timore. The club-house remained closed during the continuance of the war. Gen- eral Schenek advised his successor not to allow it to be re-opened, as it had been a nest of secessionists. Wednesday was the musical evening at the Allston, when string instruments ac- companied quartettes, quintettes, glees, and choruses. Among the prominent of the musical members were the late William Prescott Smith, Dr. A. J. Volck, Henry C. Wagner, Professor Otto Sutro, and others. When the Allston Association was suppressed, these and other music- loving members continued to meet at the rooms of Mr. Sutro, No. 67 North Charles Street. In the autumn of 1869 it was pro- posed to form a club, devoted strictly to music and the drama, and on the 13th of November, 1869, the Wednesday Club was organized, and continued its separate ex- istence until June 8, 187p, when it was merged into the Allston, which had been reorganized the previous winter. Finding the Allston was becoming merely a social club, cards and billiards taking the place of music and art, the former members of the Wednesday Club determined to sepa- rate from the Allston, and in the winter of 1876 it resumed its separate existence. The people of Baltimore are devoted to music, and the Wednesday Club became so popular in a few years that it was found necessary to build a club-house on North Charles Street, of which they took posses- sion on December 15, 1879. The first en- tertainment given there was on the 30th of December, 1879, when Gades En Kings Daughter was rendered by members of the club. Mr. Edward Reuling was Sir Oluf, Miss Bessie Mcllvaine was the Ed Kings Daughter, and Mrs. J. E. Lindsay was the mother. During the same winter, Handels Alexanders Feast, the May Queen, etc., were produced, and more re- cently Mendelssohns oratorio of Elijah. One of the most honored ladies now liv- ing in Baltimore is Miss Emily L. Harper, who, since the death of her cousin the Duchess of Leeds, on the 8th of April, 1874, has been the sole surviving grand- child of Charles Carroll of Carrollton. Miss Harper is the daughter of General Robert Goodloe Harper, who was a con- temporary of William Pinkney at the Maryland bar, and pronounced a splendid eulogy on the great orator when he was suddenly cut off in the midst of his brill- iant career. The best society of this coun- try and Europe has been graced by the presence of Miss Harper; but in the homes of the poor she is as well known as in the gilded saloons of fashion. Some years ago, when no Catholic princess in Europe was deemed worthy of the Golden Rose, which is annually presented by the Pope, Miss Ifliarper, as the most distinguished Catholic lady in the United States, was mentioned as a proper person to receive it. Few ladies have presided over the White House with more distinction than Miss Harriet Lane, the niece of President Bu- chanan. Educated at the Visitation Con- vent, Georgetown, while her uncle was Secretary of State under the Polk admin- istration, she spent Saturday and Sunday every month in Washington with him. At his house she was early introduced to all that was best, brightest, and distin- guished in the nation. In this society she acquired the ease and grace of manner which afterward made her remarkable in Queen Victorias drawing- room. After leaving the convent school, Miss Lane re- turned to her uncles home at Wheatland, where she saw much company, and occa- sionally visited New York, Philadelphia, and Washington. In 1852, Mr. Buchanan was sent to England as United States min- ister, and Miss Lane accompanied him. Her many charms of mind and person made a decided impression upon the Queen, and the fair young American was honored by distinguished marks of royal favor. The most interesting social event con- nected with the Presidency of Mr. Bu- chanan was the visit of the Prince of Wales and suite to Washington in the THE SOCIAL ATHENS OF AMERICA. autumn of 1860. Miss Lane contributed greatly to the pleasure of the Prince by the admirable manner in which everything was ordered at the White House for the accommodation and entertainment of the royal party. This was the first occasion that an heir - apparent to the English throne had vThited the capital of the lost colonies. The most interesting circum- stance of the visit was the presence of the great - grandson of George III. standing with bowed head before the tomb of George Washington. As a mark of his apprecia- tion of the cordial hospitality extended to him at the White House, the Prince, upon his return to England, sent Mr. Buchanan a portrait of himself, and Miss Lane a set of engravings of the royal family, with an autograph letter, in which he said, The cordial welcome vouchsafed to me can never be effaced from my memory. At the close of his administration Mr. Buchanan and his niece retired to Wheat- land. Here Miss Lane remained until January 11, 1866, when she was married to Mr. Henry E. Johnston, a prominent Ba] timore banker. The two had first met at Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania, in the golden days of youth. The acquaintance thus early begun contiaued to increase in warmth during all the dazzling career of Miss Lane at home and abroad until it culminated in a happy marriage. After a trip to Cuba, Mr. Johnston took his wife to Baltimore, where he had fitted up a luxurious home for the lady of his love. For fifteen years Mrs. Harriet Lane John- ston has been one of the brilliant orna- ments of Baltimore society. Their beau- tiful house on Park Avenue has been the centre of a refined and graceful hospitali- ty, where all that is most attractive and winning in the Monumental City gather. Here the stately lady whose grace and dig- nity adorned the most elegant of European courts appears in the less brilliant but not less charming character of the queen of the domestic circle. In the winter of 1863, George Lawrence who is so well known as the author of Guy Livimgstonc, arrived in Baltimore on his Quixotic expedition to the South. With the proverbial hospitality of the city, he was dined and entertained by the most fashionable people. He showed his ap- preciation of their cordiality in his book, Border and Bastile, which described his adventures in this country. We quote: The freedom and independent self-reli ance of the Baltimorean demoiselles is very remarkable. At home they receive and. entertain their own friends of either sex quite naturally, and taking their walks abroad, or returning from an evening par- ty, trust themselves unhesitatingly to the escort of a single cavalier. It speaks well for the tone of society where such a state of things can prevail without fear and without reproach. I never heard a slan- der or a suspicion levelled against the most intrepid of those innocent Unas. On the appearance of a d~butantc in Balti- more, the first question asked is, Is she beautiful? For many years past com- mon report has conceded the golden apple to the Monumental City. I think the dis- tinction has been fairly won. The small, delicate features, the long, liquid, irides- cent eyes, the sweet, indolent morbidezza, that make Southern beauty so perilously fascinating, are not uncommon here, and are often united to a clearness and brill- iancy of complexion scarcely to be found nearer the tropics. At the hour of dress parade you can not walk five steps with- out encountering a face :ell worthy of a second look. There are at this time many fair Balti- moreans to whom this enthusiastic de- scription might apply. We are not guilty of a want of delicacy when we mention Mrs. John Carroll, who, a few years since, as Miss Mary Thomas, was one of the brightest ornaments of society. Miss Em- ily McTavish belongs to a family in which beauty is hereditary. She is on her fa- ther~s side the great-granddaughter of Mrs. Richard Caton, whose three daughters were known at the court of George IV. as the American Graces, and whose mar- riage to English noblemen created so great a sensation in the fashionable society of Great Britain. On her mothers side Miss McTavish is the granddaughter of Gen- eral Winfield Scott. The wealth and high social position of the family place this lady in the front rank of Baltimore soci- ety. Stately in her bearing as Tenny- son s Maud, and calm in her manners as her grandaunt the Duchess of Leeds whom she is said to resemble in personal appearance, Miss MeTavish possesses that conscious repose and high - born grace which we see in Vandycks female por- traits, representing as they do the trans- mitted beauty and refinement of a dozen generations. Among the beauties who have been 36 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. taken from Baltimore to adorn the society of other cities, besides those already men- tioned, were Miss Judith Moale, who mar- ried Mr. Robert Cutting, Jun., of New York; Miss Lillie Dulany, who married Mr. Robert Cushing, of Boston; Miss Flor- ence McPheeters, who married a Mr. Pad- elford, of Savannah, Georgia. This lady possesses in perfection the blonde type of beauty which is peculiar to Baltimore, and which has distinguished so many of its lovely wonien. One of the most attract- ive ladies in the society of the Monument- al City thirty years ago was Miss Ellen Swan, who married Philip Barton Key, of Washington. Their son, James Scott Key, after figuring in Baltimore society for a few years, abandoned the profession of the law, which has been hereditary in his fam- ily for three generations, and went on the stage. Previous to doing that, he deliver- ed an address at the Academy of Music on the Origin of the Star-spangled Banner, which his grandfather, Francis Scott Key, wrote while a prisoner on board a British man-of-war during the bombardment of Fort McHenry on the 13th of September, 1814. An evening party in Baltimore is some- thing to be enjoyed and remembered. Gentlemen from other cities have con- fessed themselves astonished at the bat- talions of beautiful women to be seen on such occasions. Along the wooded ave- nues of Druid Hill Park faces glance from carriages, and fi ures are seen strolling along the green alleys, which might have inspired Tennysons DreaTh of Fair Wo- men. A peculiar charm of the Balti- more girl is her gentleness; she is exqui- sitely feminine. There is nothing about her of the girl of the period; she is not a husbandhunting woman; she is not one of the grim females; not one of the shrieking sisterhood; there is nothing fast, aggressive, or advanced about her; she is the very reverse of anything offen- sive in the term strong-minded. Her reading is more sweet than strong; on her boudoir table you will not find the last French novel or the last poem of Swin- burne, but you will find the works of Jean Ingelow and Adelaide Procter. Free from the wear and tear of the fashionable life of other cities, Baltimore women often retain their youthful freshness of complex- ion and grace of form until threescore, thus illustrating the lines of the poet: How lightly falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. THE history of the adoption of the tor- the cry, Inhuman, barbarous, unchival- pedo as a recognized implement of rous. But the genius of modern war re- warfare is not unlike that of gunpowder quires the use of those weapons which or of shells. Each in its turn was met by shall inflict the greatest possible damage upon an enemy in the shortest possi- ble time, and hence the once despised torpedo now occupies a place in the front rank. In the short space of a magazine ar- ticle it is impossible to take more than a mere cursory glance at our subject; but so complete in its details was the first recorded torpedo boat that it mer- its more than passing notice. Mr. David Bushnell, of Connecticut, who well earned the title of the father of torpedo warfare, built in 1775 a boat intended for submarine attack upon an enemys vessel. This craft con- tained sufficient air to enable the op- erator to remain half an hour under water, and it was so arranged as to be sunk to any desired depth by the flow of water into the hold; rising was effected by pumping this water out. BU5HNELL 5 TORPEDO BOAT.

36 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. taken from Baltimore to adorn the society of other cities, besides those already men- tioned, were Miss Judith Moale, who mar- ried Mr. Robert Cutting, Jun., of New York; Miss Lillie Dulany, who married Mr. Robert Cushing, of Boston; Miss Flor- ence McPheeters, who married a Mr. Pad- elford, of Savannah, Georgia. This lady possesses in perfection the blonde type of beauty which is peculiar to Baltimore, and which has distinguished so many of its lovely wonien. One of the most attract- ive ladies in the society of the Monument- al City thirty years ago was Miss Ellen Swan, who married Philip Barton Key, of Washington. Their son, James Scott Key, after figuring in Baltimore society for a few years, abandoned the profession of the law, which has been hereditary in his fam- ily for three generations, and went on the stage. Previous to doing that, he deliver- ed an address at the Academy of Music on the Origin of the Star-spangled Banner, which his grandfather, Francis Scott Key, wrote while a prisoner on board a British man-of-war during the bombardment of Fort McHenry on the 13th of September, 1814. An evening party in Baltimore is some- thing to be enjoyed and remembered. Gentlemen from other cities have con- fessed themselves astonished at the bat- talions of beautiful women to be seen on such occasions. Along the wooded ave- nues of Druid Hill Park faces glance from carriages, and fi ures are seen strolling along the green alleys, which might have inspired Tennysons DreaTh of Fair Wo- men. A peculiar charm of the Balti- more girl is her gentleness; she is exqui- sitely feminine. There is nothing about her of the girl of the period; she is not a husbandhunting woman; she is not one of the grim females; not one of the shrieking sisterhood; there is nothing fast, aggressive, or advanced about her; she is the very reverse of anything offen- sive in the term strong-minded. Her reading is more sweet than strong; on her boudoir table you will not find the last French novel or the last poem of Swin- burne, but you will find the works of Jean Ingelow and Adelaide Procter. Free from the wear and tear of the fashionable life of other cities, Baltimore women often retain their youthful freshness of complex- ion and grace of form until threescore, thus illustrating the lines of the poet: How lightly falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. THE history of the adoption of the tor- the cry, Inhuman, barbarous, unchival- pedo as a recognized implement of rous. But the genius of modern war re- warfare is not unlike that of gunpowder quires the use of those weapons which or of shells. Each in its turn was met by shall inflict the greatest possible damage upon an enemy in the shortest possi- ble time, and hence the once despised torpedo now occupies a place in the front rank. In the short space of a magazine ar- ticle it is impossible to take more than a mere cursory glance at our subject; but so complete in its details was the first recorded torpedo boat that it mer- its more than passing notice. Mr. David Bushnell, of Connecticut, who well earned the title of the father of torpedo warfare, built in 1775 a boat intended for submarine attack upon an enemys vessel. This craft con- tained sufficient air to enable the op- erator to remain half an hour under water, and it was so arranged as to be sunk to any desired depth by the flow of water into the hold; rising was effected by pumping this water out. BU5HNELL 5 TORPEDO BOAT. TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. 37 The depth was indicated by a glass water gauge illuminated by a piece of phospho- rus. A screw-propeller, worked by hand or foot, afforded the means of moving through the water, while a similar screw assisted in the descent and ascent. There was carried upon the outside of the boat a tin case, containing one hundred and fifty pounds of powder, so constructed as to be lighter than the bulk of water it displaced. To this case was attached a rope, the oth- er end of which was fast to a wood-screw; this latter was turned by a rod ~vhich pass- ed through a tube in the top of the boat. The operator was supposed to make his way under the bottom of the vessel select- ed. Here he was to turn this rod, causing the screw to enter the plankin~,. This be- ing done, the rod was to be removed, and the magazine cast off, when it would float the length of the rope, and thus remain In contact with the bottom. The detaching of the magazine set in operation a train of clock-work, arranged to run any desired length of time, at the expiration of which a strong flint and steel gun - lock was sprung, and fire thus communicated to the powder. A boat constructed after Bush- nells plan was used in 1776 in an unsuc- cessful attempt upon the Eagle in New York Harbor. A year later, Bushnell made an attempt to destroy the Cerberus in New London by using two floating tor pedoes connected by a long B line. These were set adrift on the ebb-tide, his idea be- ing that the line would foul the chain of the frigate, and G n upon being discovered would be hauled in. As this was done the torpedo would strike the side of the vessel, and explosion would ensue, the mechanism being not unlike that just described. Fortunately for the Cerbe- russ people, a captured schooner was lying near. A The line fouled her chain, and an explosion destroyed her entirely. Bushnell also arranged the barrel torpedoes which FULTON 5 TORPEDO AND GUN. were floated down the Del- aware at Philadelphia, giving rise to the cork float; C, a box containing clock-work much-talked-of Battle of the Kegs. and gun-lock, the train being set in motion Fulton next appears upon the scene by pulling out the pin, D; E, a float buoy- with his invention of the Nautilus, in- ing up the torpedo; F, a line connecting tended for the same purpose as Bushnells with a harpoon, G, fired from a gun, H, to earlier essay: this one, however, was of the familiar cigar shape. In it Fulton re- mained over four hours under water, he having arranged a tank with a supply of compressed air which enabled him to do this. He blew up a small vessel in the har- bor of Brest with a twenty-pound torpedo which he had attached to her bottom. The French government gave him little en- couragement; consequently he transferred his stock in trade to England, where Pitt, then Premier, assisted him in various ways. His plans included not only his submarine vessel, but also torpedoes which, floating at or near the surface, should be brought by the tide in contact with a ves- sel; with one of these last he blew up a brig in presence of Pitt and various naval officers. The Earl St. Vincent remarked that Pitt was the greatest fool that ever existed, to encourage a mode of war which they who commanded the seas did not want, and which, if successful, would de- prive them of it. Herein the noble earl was unquestionably correct, for a weak na- tion can now defend itself more easily than ever before. His views prevailed, for Fulton was dismissed with a gratuity, and returned to this country to lay his plans before the government. He seems to have dropped the Nautilus altogether, as his proposals took the shape shown in the il- lustration, in which A is the torpedo; B, a 38 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. be carried in a launch or other row-boat. The gun being fired at the bow of a vessel, the harpoon would stick in the plank, the torpedo would float against the side, and explosion would ensue. After a number of trials, he succeeded in destroying a ves- sel at New York, and finally Congress ap- propriated five thousand dollars to enable him to make experiments against a naval vessel. A commission was appointed by the Secretary of the Navy to witness them, of which Comniodore Rodgers was a mem- ber. The commodore so surrounded the Argus with nets and other obstructions that Fulton was foiled, and the attack was FRAME ARD FILE TORFEDOEs. unsuccessful. Although Chancellor Liv- ingston thought it one of the most un- portant military discoveries, and though Morgan Lewis deemed the torpedo enti- tled to rank among the best and cheapest defenses of ports, yet Commodore rod- gerss report was so utterly condemnatory that nothing further was done, and Fulton in disgust dropped the subject forever. In 1842, Samuel Colt, best known to the world as the inventor of the revolver, brought to the notice of the government his scheme for torpedo warfare. He first employed electricity as an igniting agent, and by this means destroyed a schooner at anchor in the Potomac, while five miles distant from her: later he destroyed a ves- sel under way, a few minutes after her abandonment by the crew. Notwith- standing these successes, he received no encouragement, the general sentiment of both the military and naval authorities being averse to this mode of warfare. Colts methods were secret, but to him un- questionably belongs the honor of being the pioneer in the use of the electric cur- rent by means of an insulated cable. Torpedoes were employed to some ex- tent by the Russians in the Crimean war, but without any great effect, save to give the enemy a wholesome horror of them. It remained for our own civil war to bring them into prominence, and natural- ly they first appeared upon the Southern side, being first found by our forces in the Savannah River in February, 1862. These were rather crude affairs, it being intend- ed that passing vessels should entangle lines, which, on being pulled, should cause a friction primer to explode. These were not successful, being quite easily found and removed, so that there was but little delay caused in the movements of the be- sieging force. About this time, however, a regular Torpedo Corps was organized at Richmond, and much attention was paid by them to the perfection of this very important wea- pon. Naturally the first use was for defensive pur- poses, and frame or pile torpedoes were very suc- ______ cessfully used to close vari- ous water-courses. It was nearly impossible to re- move them, and hence our vessels never attempted to penetrate channels where they were known to be planted. The shell was secured to the timber by heavy bolts, and explosion en- sued whenever a passing vessel struck one of the fuses. These were so sensi- tive that a blow of ten pounds was quite sufficient to explode them. They were protected from the water by a very thin cap of soft copper, which yielded readily to a slight pressure. Another device for a fuse was a leaden tube containing a mixture of chlorate of potash and sugar, inclosing in turn a glass tube in which was sulphuric acid; upon the lead being struck, the glass was broken, and the contact between the acid and the mixture resulted in a fierce flame, which was com- municated to the powder. A most easily constructed and much- dreaded affair was the barrel torpedo, made of a lager-beer keg rendered water- tight by being pitched, and given flotation by the addition of conical pieces of pine. They were provided with several of the sensitive primers already described. They were easily made and readily placed, but required to be most securely anchored, for if once adrift, they were as dangerous to friend as to foe. A more elaborate affair was the buoy- ant spar torpedo, with its accompanying devils circumventor. Owing to its TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. 39 form and mode of anchoring, it was quite unlikely to be discovered; but if such an event should occur, a line attached to the primer of the circumventor would in all probability cause its explosion, to the great damage if not destruction of those engaged in the work. Various devices were used to carry the war into Africa. The most formidable were in the shape of a lump of coal. They were made of cast iron, and when covered with a mixture of tar and coal dust, would readily be taken as pieces of the indis- pensable fuel. They were intended to be placed in the coal piles whence our vessels were supplied. A number of explosions, otherwise en~ tirely unaccountable, are at- tributed to the use of this pe- culiarly wicked and treach- erous device. A tremendous explosion was caused at City Point by the use of a plain case of wood, having clock- work and a percussion ar- rangement in one corner. This was placed near the powder which was being un- loaded, by a man in the guise of a laborer, who belonged to the secret service corps upon the other side. All these and many other inventions were left, how- ever, altogether to circum- stances, and hence the chance of the ex- plosion of any given torpedo was but very slight. The electric fuse, however, obvi- ated this difficulty, and placed the control of the weapon in the hands of an operator on shore. These weapons were generally of boiler iron, the fuse being in the centre of the charge; the fuse was simply a small section of goose-quill filled with fulminate of mercury, through which passed a small platinum wire connected to the copper wires leading from the bat- tery; upon the passage of the cur- rent this platinum became heated, exploding the fulminate, which, in turn, set fire to the powder. Briefly stated, this is the princi- ple upon which electric fuses are still constructed, though other forms are in use. Possessing con- trol of the torpedo, it became eco- nomically possible to construct them of huge dimensions, some holding nearly a ton of powder. They were generally placed in narrow chan- nels, where a vessel passing would be obliged to go directly over them, or nearly so, and they were exploded when the op- erator considered the proper time to have arrived. A defect in the connections of course rendered the torpedo perfectly harmlessa circumstance which proved of infinite importance to the New Ironsides during the siege of Charleston. On one occasion this vessel was directly over one of these huge mines for more than an hour, but it could not be fired. It was afterward ascertained that the ca- ble had been injured by a passing cart upon the beach. It was one of these large mines which was the means of destroying the gun- boat Commodore Jones, in the James River, in May, 1864. This vessel was in the van of the fleet engaged in searching for evidences of torpedoes, when suddenly, with- out any premonition whatever, her whole fabric was lifted bodily from the water, followed imme- diately by a column of water, which tore through her hull, carrying great pieces of her frame-work, mingled with a confused mass of guns, stores, and human beings, high into the air. When the water, with its unaccustomed freight, had subsided, only some small fragments of the Jones were found floating in the river, together with a few struggling wretches, who were quickly picked up by the boats of the fleet. BARREL TORPEDO. FLOATING SPAR TORPEDO AND DEVIL cIRCUMVENTOR. 40 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. A similar occurrence took place at Mo- bile, where the iron-clad Tecumseh was sunk almost instantaneously. No nob]er instance of heroisni adorns the page of history than that exhibited by the chival- rous Craven, her commander, who, hav- ing given orders for the abandonment of the ship, and finding himself and his pilot at the foot of the ladder leading to the top of the turret and to safety, gallantly stepped to one side, saying, with a polite wave of the hand, After you, sir, thus (so short was the time) going down with his ill-fated craft, while the pilot, the wa- ter following close upon his heels, reach- ed the roof of the turret, and was saved saved to tell the story how the gallant Craven gave to his subordinate the one chance for life which remained between the two. One of the inexpensive barrel torpedoes was the cause of the Tecumsehs loss; a similar one sunk the Patapsco at Charleston in less than a minute after the explosion. Many other successful cases of torpedo explosions induced the Torpe- do Corps to make attempts at using the new weapon offensively, and torpedo boats were planned after many ingenious de- vices. The diminutive proportions of these little craft, as compared with the huge bulk of their antagonists, rendered the compari- son of the shepherd boy of Israel and the giant of Gath not an inapt one, and they were known to our forces by the generic The first attack ever made by a steam torpedo - boat upon an enemys vessel would seem to merit some attention. The vessel whose destruction was attempted was the frigate New Ironsides, whose ap- pearance in action was always viewed. with dismay by the enemy, so extremely rapid and accurate was her fire, driving the gunners to their bomb-proofs, and permitting the work of the army to go on unmolested. Naturally her continued presence was a source of pride to one side and of mortification to the other. Short- ly after nine oclock one evening in Oc- tober, 1863, the lookouts of the Ironsides discovered something which looked like a boat approaching; the only answer to the hail, Boat, ahoy ! was a musket-shot, followed instantly by an explosion close alongside, which shook the vessel to her centre,~thro~vin g a great quantity of wa- ter into the air. A perfect hail-storm of bullets was sent after the adventurous lit- tle craft as she drifted into the darkness, and a boat was sent in search of her. Two of her crew were found floating by the aid of life-preservers, but no vestige of the Da- vid. After the war had closed, it was as- certained that two of the crew, finding their vessel not sunk, swam to her, and once more kindling her fires, steamed back to Charleston. Not long after this the Housatonic, a wooden sloop of war, was destroyed by a David. The little H CONFEDERATE DAVID. term of Davids. The illustration shows very clearly the salient points of these vessels; the torpedo was carried on the end of the protruding spar, and was exploded on contact, being provided with the sensi- tive primer. A number were built, and had the war lasted longer, much damage would doubtless have been inflicted upon our fleet. They were propelled by steam, having a speed of seven or eight miles an hour. A vessel at anchor on the block- ade, seeing one of the Davids, found her only safety in instant flight; but they were so low in the water that they could read- ily approach very close before being de- tected. craft which accomplished this feat had quite a tragic history, having during her experimental trials been thrice sunk, each time with the loss of her crew, and finally going down, for the last time, with all on board, when she had finished her mission. While the Southern naval men were thus active, they were building in nearly every blockaded port one or more iron- dads as well. One of these, the Albe- marie, had been successful in a battle with our vessels in the sounds of North Caro- lina, and her continued existence greatly endangered our naval supremacy in thcse waters. About this time Messrs. Wood and Lay, of the Engineer Corps of the TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. 41 navy, had invented a torpedo to be used in steam-launches, the method of oper- ating which will readily be understood from the illustration. It was constructed so as to be lighter than its bulk of water. The air-chamber at the top was supposed to give direction to the effect of the charge. Through the centre of the torpedo was a tube, at the bottom of which, communi- cating with the powder, was an ordinary percussion-cap. A small grape-shot was held by a pin at the upper end of this tube, and to the pin was attached a lanyard, which was controlled by the operator in the boat. The whole affair rested in a scoop at the end of the spar which pro- jected from the boat, and was kept in its position by a second pin, the lanyard of which was also worked by the operator. A third rope, fastened on one side of the scoop, passed round the base of the torpe- do, and when hauled upon in the boat, after the pin had been drawn out, threw it clear of the scoop, when it immediately assumed an upright position, and rose until it touched the bottom of the vessel attacked. Whenever in the judgment of the operator this contact had taken place, he pulled the remaining lanyard and drew out the pin, allowing the grape-shot to fall upon the cap, when explosion en- sued. This weapon, of so complicated a character that it would seem almost im- practicable to have everything work suc- cessfully, has been so fully described be of lieutenant-commander when but twen- ty-one years of age. In such enterprises as this Cushing was in his element. He had secured to his person the three ropes. necessary to be pulled in order to successfully attack his foe; and in addition he held cords leading to the engineer and helmsman, by which he could transmit his orders without speak- ing. With all this com- plicated system of cords to manage, he never for an instant became confused but worked everything to a cnarm. Having slowly approached the Albernarle lie was hailed by her look- outs; then, as he dashed at SECTION OF her with the full speed of TORPEDO USEL~ which his little craft was BY CUSHING. capable, the light of a fire on shore permitted him to observe that she was surrounded by a cordon of logs, some thirty feet from her side; at the same time a hail - storm of bullets was poured around the devoted little band, so that, to use Cushings own words, the air seemed full of them. Several were wounded; but Cushings luck stood him in good stead, and he remained unhurt, though three bullets pierced his clothing. A less cool head than his would havc rigged out the spar at first sight of the BOAT USED BY LIEUTENANT GUSHING. cause with one like it was the launch armed with which the dauntless Cushing suiik the vessel which threatened to change the existing state of affairs in a manner not pleasant for us to contem- plate. Of this feat a high English au- thority said that it equalled the best deeds of the time of Nelson, and for it the youthful hero received the thanks of Congress, and was promoted to the grade enemy; but Cushing took in the situation quickly, and knew that he must put the spar over the boom, if he would be suc- cessful. He therefore waited until his. boat struck it and pushed it in some dis- tance toward the enemy; then, with the bow half out of the water, still in the face of the musketry fire, and in momentary expectation of being opened upon with the great guns which lie could hear being 42 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. worked, he coolly launched his spar, and pulled his three lanyards in succession. This was accomplished just as the Albe- maries first gun was fired, simultaneous- ly with which the torpedo exploded, tear- ing a great bole in the ships side, and causing her to sink quickly. The column of water thrown up, in its descent filled the launch, and as she sunk beneath his feet, he told his comrades to save them- selves as best they could. His adventures on his return to the fleet rcad like a fairy tale; but the charmed existence which he ever seemed to bear took him through this, as through all other of his perils, in safety. Only a very small number of the many different sorts of torpedoes invented dur- ing the continuance of the war have been noticed, but enough has been detailed to show how much damage the comparative- ly inferior weapons of that day could ac- complish. Since the close of that strug- gle, which established the torpedo as an authorized weapon, much time and talent have been devoted to its improvement. Still the main reliance of a torpedo attack is upon a bag of powder on the end of a pole, as it has been called; it is chiefly in the speed of the launches and in the meth- od of firing the torpedo that the greatest gain has been made. Much has been done in the way of increased speed. In this country we build launches of the Herre- schoff type. The Lightning, one of this kind, has niade a speed of twenty-four miles an hour. The great peculiarity of these boats is their boiler, in which steam can be raised to working pressure in five minutes or less, and can be kept there without diffi- culty. The illustration shows the salient features of the boilers, the water being con- tained in the coil of iron pipe, and passing to the separator in the form of steam. The propeller and rudder are also peculiarly arranged, and the whole boat (which is built of wood) is so light that she can be stopped in her own length when going at full speed, and she steers just as well when going astern as when going ahead. Un- fortunately she is not well adapted for war purposes, save in an emergency; still, in smooth water and under favorable circum- stances, she might make a successful attack, provided she escaped in safety from the shower of balls and bullets which machine guns and revolving cannon would be cast- ing at her. In England, Farrow and Thor- nycroft have built boats of great speed; these are constructed of steel, and hence are very light. They have several water-tight compartments, and afford a protection for the crew from musketry fire, as they are covered over with a whales-back, through which man-holes are cut to the different compartments; they are also nearly noise- less, and some of them are smoke-consum- ing. Some of them are quite capable of service in a seaway, having proved this by steaming across the Bay of Biscay, one even venturing to cross the Atlantic to the South American coast, where she was wrecked. These boats are of course in- tended for torpedo service alone, and pre THE HERRESOHOFF BOILER. THE LIGHTNING.~~ TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. 43 sent great contrasts to the dull craft used in Cushings exploit. Their torpedo gear, however, does not differ in principle from that used by him; strong, light, hollow steel spars carry the torpedo, which is fitted generally to explode either on con- tact or by electricity, and is not dependent upon the clumsy, complicated method upon which he was obliged to rely. Smaller boats are also built, which, like the Light- ning, can be carried on board a man-of- war, so that few foreign vessels of any size are unprovided with these additions to their armament. A very peculiar form of torpedo is the invention of Commander Harvey, R.N. This is towed from a ship, or from a large tug specially constructed for the purpose, and being hung similarly to a boys kite, it diverges from the vessels wake at quite a large angle. It is somewhat heavier than water, and is supported by a buoy of cork, which prevents it from sinking when placed in the water. So soon as a strain is brought upon the tow - rope it darts quickly to its place, remaining at the sur- face until the line is slacked, which is done as it approaches an enemy. The torpedo then dives, and upon contact with the bottom of the vessel is exploded. This was thought to be so excellent a weapon that it was adopted in the English navy, and largely in other services. Later de- velopments have caused it to be dropped as a practical weapon. A boat large enough and of sufficient speed for its use can be more effectively employed, and as an addition to the outfit of an ordinary cruiser, Harveys invention is, to say the least, of but doubtful utility. The cruising vessels of our own and of several other navies are provided with spars which project some forty feet from the side, and carry torpedoes containing about a hundred pounds of explosive. It remains to be shown in practice whether this plan will prove of utility in action. England has built one or two quite large vessels solely for torpedo purposes, and her example has been followed by other nations. In our navy we have the Alarm and Intrepid, the former designed by Ad- miral Porter. She is of iron, with double bottom and water - tight compartments. She carries one heavy gun in the bow, and is provided also with a ram and tor- pedo spars, the latter projecting through the side some feet under water. She has also an additional spar extending, directly in line with the keel, some thirty feet be- yond the point of the ram. Facility of man ceuvre is gained by the use of the Mallory steering propeller, which may be briefly defined as rudder and propeller in one. The four inches of armor at the bow is intended to deflect any shot that might strike her. Unquestionably, if the great desideratum, speed, can be obtained, she will prove a most formidable vessel; and she seems to combine in an advantageous manner the elements of the coming gun- boat fleet. The Intrepid can not be said to be a success; almost any large tug will be as serviceable as she, for she has at pre- sent no special torpedo appliances thal~ can not be used by other vessels. The latest vessel designed solely for tor- pedo warfare is the production of the gen- ius of John Ericsson. If the accounts which have reached the public are trust- worthy, the Destroyer is not excelled by any torpedo vessel now afloat. She is re- ported to have great speed, and to be so constructed as to be practically invulner- able to ordinary shot. Her chief point of merit lies, however, in the armament. This consists of a gun submerged several feet below the water-line, which discharges through the bows a shell or torpedo con- taining two hundred and fifty pounds of explosive material to be fired upon con- tact. This new weapon is forced from the gun by a comparatively small charge of gunpowder, its extreme range being about two hundred and fifty yards. Contrary to the ordinarily received ideas, Mr. Erics- son has succeeded in demonstrating that this shell can be so fired, and we may look for great efficiency from this new triumph of his genius. All these craft which we have been con- sideriiig require the presence of human agency on board in order that they may l)erform their work. We come now to the more ingenious and more formidable type, which is propelled by machinery contain- ed within itself, and which is only large enough to carry the explosive in addition to the engines. This type is divided into two classes: those which, once launched and their machinery set in motion, act au- tomatically, and those of which the control is retained by an operator on shore. Of the first, the most successful, and in fact the only one ever practically perfected, is the celebrated Whitehead. This is built of thin, iron or steel, being in its general form not unlike the Lay, though not quite so 44 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. large as the latter; its motive power is sociated with Chief-Engineer Wood in the compressed air, contained in one of the invention of the torpedo used by Cushing. compartments into which it is divided. It As excellent as the Lay undoubtedly is, it is provided with a most ingenious system still has the same defect as others, namely, of steering and diving rudders, the latter want of sufficient speed; this, however, being adjustable so that the torpedo will re- does not seem to be an insuperable obsta- main at any desired depth during its flight. cle, and with each successive construction It is launched either from a gun or tube a greater speed is obtained. This boat is by means of compressed air, or it may be started by hand; tubes for firing it (quite similar to those of the Destroyer) have been fitted to many foreign vessels, and the inventor has reaped a great harvest, nearly every European government hav- ing purchased the secret at a heavy price. Our own government, however, has not yet deemed it advisable to make any pur- chase, though it has been pressed upon the naval authorities at various times. The explosive is carried in the bow com- partment, being fired on contact; its speed for a short distance is at the rate of more than twenty miles per hour. It is believed to be, on the whole, too compli- cated and costly, and has not yet met with any great success in the trials it has had in actual warfare. One of the earliest controllable torpedoes was devised by Ericsson; its motive pow- er was compressed air, furnished to the engines from a pump on shore, through a tubular cable paid out as it progressed. An increase or diminution of the normal press- ure caused a movement of the helm; it was also provided with an ingenious div- ing apparatus. Its great and apparently insurmountable defect was want of speed. The most successful type of the mov- able torpedo is found in the invention of Mr. John L. Lay, of Buffalo, New York, who has heretofore been mentioned as as- always under the control of the operator, who can stop or start it, steer to either one side or the other, or fire the charge whenever he pleases. All these things are of course extremely advantageous, and greatly enhance the value of the weapon. The motive power is carbonic acid gas. This gas (as is well known) becomes lique- fied under a pressure of forty atmospheres,. and in this state it is stored in a flask in the boat. When the valve closing this flask is open, vaporization ensues, and the gas is taken to the engine, first passing an automatically acting reducing valve, s& that the pressure will not be too great. As the liquid expands, great cold is pro- duced, and trouble is experienced from its use as a motor; this, however, is not a~ serious difficulty, and some remedy will doubtless be found. The explosive chani- her, containing five hundred pounds of material, is at the bow, and is so construct- ed that on contact with a vessel it is dis- engaged from its resting-place, and drops several feet, the idea being that an explo- sion in that position will do more damage than at the water-line. In one compart- ment of the boat is a drum, from which is paid out the cable through which the electric current passes. A suitable ar- rangement of magnets opens a valve which allows gas to enter a cylinder, the piston in which causes the helm to be put in the LAY TORPEDO BOAT. TORPEDOES AND TORPEDO BOATS. 45 desired direction; and a similar arrange- ment causes the throttle of the engine to open or close. The explosion is caused on contact if it is desired, or it may always be kept under the operators control. Some of these boats have but one wire in the ca- ble, over which the various functions are caused to operate; others have a multiple cable, with a wire for each thing required to be done. Over a mile and a half of wire is carried, so that the effective range becomes very much greater that that of any of its rivals. Mr. Lay is constantly at work introducing improvements, all of which are protected by numerous patents. His system has been definitely adopted by Russia after a satisfactory trial of ten of the boats built for her. A factory has been established, and it is proposed to use them very extensively in any future war. The sensation is by no means a pleasant one that this fish-like monster causes when seen pursuing its way through the water as if endowed with life, obedient to the will of the operator, who controls its mo- tions by the simple pressure of a key. To aid him in directing the course of the boat, there are two guide-rods elevated some five or six feet above its top, which is just awash. These rods bear different-colored flags by day and lanterns by night; these are screened from view except from aft, so that the approach of the boat is entirely hidden. So noiseless is the advance, and so little opportunity is there for discovery, that at an experimental trial before the Belgian authorities one was sent, upon a dark night, between two boats anchored about twenty feet apart, without the slight- est intimation of the fact to the officers who were on the lookout for it; it was not until after the torpedo had passed them that they saw the lights. This feat was accomplished by an operator more than half a mile distant. So far as the question of controllability is concerned, the Lay is far in advance of any other; it now remains only to devise some means by which the speed can be raised to sixteen miles an hour to render it the most formi- dable of all torpedoes. A boat driven by an electro-motor has been invented by Mr. Simms, which pro- mises very well, having attained a very reasonable degree of speed. With the re- cent advances in electrical practice, there is not much doubt that in the near future an efficient craft of this kind will be built, the aid of steam being called in to turn a dynamo-electric machine on shore, from which the current will be transmitted over a cable, paid out like that of the Lay, to the electro - motor which will drive the boat. Both the Lay and the electric tor- pedoes, however, have some disadvantages: the former requires to be used near some place at which the gas may be liquefied; the latter necessitates the use of a steam- engine. The Whitehead has the advan- tage over these that it can be carried in sea-going vessels, as suitable machinery for compressing the air necessary to drive it can readily be accommodated. In this respect the electric boat is superior to the Lay, for it also can be carried to sea, space for its dynamo machine being readi- ly attainable. When we have such a tor- pedo with a speed of twenty miles an hour (and it can be built), we shall possess a weapon which will be able to sink the stoutest iron-clad that floats. The latest wars have shown a few ex- amples of the use of the torpedo. The very latest device used by the Peruvians was the setting adrift of a launch loaded with vegetables, fruits, etc.; underneath them was stowed a large amount of explosive. This boat was picked up by a Chilian ves- sel, and hauled alongside to be discharged. As the articles were removed, the weight upon a spring was lessened, and finally the mine was fired, causing the destruc- tion of the vessel and the loss of many lives. In the Franco-Prussian war the fear of the torpedoes with which the Prussians were reported to have stocked their wa- ters was quite sufficient to deter the French from making any serious attempts to an- noy their enemy: this is a good example of their moral effect. An eminent officer of our own navy once very truly said that it would require an extreme amount of moral courage for a commander to expose one of the costly iron-dads of the present day to the chance of destruction by tor- pedoes: the amount at stake was too great to enable one to use his ship as of old, when she was exposed only to the fire of artillery. ~ In the Russo-Turkish war a number of attacks were made by the Russians. With launches armed with the spar torpedo, of five attacks but one was successful, a don- ble-turreted Monitor being destroyed. At another time the Russian boat got along- side a Turkish iron-clad without being dis- covered, but the torpedo did not explode, 46 HAIRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. owing to defects in the connecting wires from the battery, caused by the cable hay- ing been chafed by the screw. On anoth- er occasion the torpedo was exploded just an instant too soon, before contact was fully made, the only result being to del- uge both the assailant and the assailed with the column of water. With the Whitehead but one vessel (a revenue-cut- ter) was destroyed, though several at- tempts were made. In the case of the torpedo launches, the attacks were always made by three or more in company. A device likely to be employed in future wars was the use of a large merchant steamer to carry a number of small boats fitted with spar torpedoes, thus enabling a descent to be made upon a blockading fleet from seaward. The moral effect of these weapons was again shown, and the truth of the remark referred to above proven, in the fact that the Turkish fleet kept at a safe distance from the iRus- sian ports during the entire war. No allusion has been made either to the explosives used or to the various ways from time to time brought forward for their ignition, as these matters alone would fill quite as much space as is allotted to the whole of this article. Suffice it to say, however, that in lieu of gunpowder there have been employed the higher explosives, gun-cotton and nitro-glycerine in its va- rious forms. Doubtless these will in the future entirely replace the more bulky and weaker powder. Torpedoes for offensive purposes are generally provided with both automatic and controllable electric fuses the current being generated either from a battery or a small dynamo machine. The subject of the defense of harbors by torpedoes or mines is one that can not fully be entered into here. For our own coast, the accomplished head of the engineer- ing school at Willets Point, General Ab- bott, has devised plans which are of the most comprehensive character. General- ly speaking, mines of this description are provided with outlying buoys, in which is some sort of an arrangement by which on being struck by a vessel the circuit of the battery is closed, and the mine fired. This is in addition to the control which is pos- sessed on shore, whence explosion can be caused whenever it is desired. Should a friendly vessel wish to pass, the battery can be switched off, and the passage made with safety. Methods are devised by which, with a chart of the harbor, upon which is indicated the location of each mine, the course of an entering vessel can be followed, and when she is in the correct H EFFECT OF six HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR POUNDS OF GUNPOWDER ON A TARGET (THE BOTTOM OF AN iRON-CLAD) AT A DiSTANCE OF TWENTY-THREE AND A HALF FEET. KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. 47 position any given mine can be exploded. The mines are planted in rows, and they must be at such a distance from each oth- er as to prevent the explosion of one caus- ing that of others. Those in one row are opposite the passages in the next, and in this way access to a port is rendered very dangerous. If to these mines we add an Alarm or two, and several of the Lay or Simms boats, it would go hard with any fleet which attempted to enter a port thus defended. The torpedo, once regarded with such horror, has now fully taken its place among those legitimate weapons by which hostility is made so expensive that nations will be forced to think whether arbitra- tion may not solve their difficulties, and to hasten slowly at declaring war. That nation which is the most fully prepared for war is the most certain to be able to maintain its peace. KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. I. I THINK it well to announce, right in the beginning of this story, that Miles Bunkly is not properly its hero, though some preliminary things must be told con- cerning him. Although Miles had loved Miss Caroline Thigpeu long before Mr. Bill Williams courted her, yet he never had told her so in set words, until-well, you may say it was too late. Yet everybody was surprised. Miles was a most excel- ]ent young man, industrious, sober, thrifty, fond of laying up, and had a right good deal laid up already. Then he was quite passable as to looks. Mr. Bill could not have been said, even by Miss Thigpen, to have any advantage of Miles as to looks. As for the rest, all except Miss Thigpen and his own mother considered him the inferior. Yet Dukesborough manners, or something else, put him in the lead on his first entry upon the field. It was then, and not till then, that Miles Bunkly made one, and but one, avowed effort, and fail- ing, gave up the contest, and resigned him- self to what he called molloncholy. He had never beenat least he had nev- er seemed to bea cheerful-minded person anyway. His courtship even had been a rather solemn piece of business, and the final declaration sounded somewhat as if he had invited Miss Thigpen to go with him to the grave-yard instead of taking charge of his domestic affairs. The lady, after gently declining his suit, and claim- ing the privilege of regarding him as a friendnay, a brotherannounced her in- tention of ever keeping his proposal a se- cret, and requested him to do the same. No, maam, said Miles; no, Miss Carlin& I shall not deny it, nor I shall not deny it. Im much obleeged to you, and I shall be a friend to you and to yourn. The waound is in my heart, and it 11 stay thar, and it 11 be obleeged to stay thar, but Ill be a friend to you and yourn. On his way home he called to his neigh- bor and friend Abram Grice, who was standing in his door: Mawnin, Abom. Mawnin, Miles. Light and come in. Step out here a minute, Abom, ef you please. Mr. Grice came out to the gate. Kicked, Abom. Kicked, Miles? Who ? Kicked bad, Miles ? Powerful. Your horse, Miles, or a mule, or a steer ? Nary one. Its here, Abom. Then he laid his hand broadly on his breast. In the stomach, Miles? Bad place to git kicked. What in the thunder kicked you way up thar? Git down; come in and take a drink, and tell nie about it aft- erward. Its not my stomach, Abom; its my bres. The waounds insideway inside. Sperrits wouldnt do it any good; it wouldnt retch it. My goodness gracious! Miles Bunkly, what in the dickens is the matter with you ? Ive been yonder, Abom, and he pointed mournfully toward the Thigpens, and my desires is to tell no lies. I got it from a human person over thar, and that not of the sect of a man person. ~ATho ?Miss Carline ? Ef I was to name the name, Abom, that were the name I should name. Mr. Grice shouted with laughter. Miles Bunkly, you skeered me out of a years growth. I thought you been kicked by a team o mules, or at least a yoke o steers. Well, look here, you aint a-goin to stay kicked ? Its done done, Abom. Yes, but, Miles, Ive knowed sich as that ondone. Why, Saraun kicked me three

KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. 47 position any given mine can be exploded. The mines are planted in rows, and they must be at such a distance from each oth- er as to prevent the explosion of one caus- ing that of others. Those in one row are opposite the passages in the next, and in this way access to a port is rendered very dangerous. If to these mines we add an Alarm or two, and several of the Lay or Simms boats, it would go hard with any fleet which attempted to enter a port thus defended. The torpedo, once regarded with such horror, has now fully taken its place among those legitimate weapons by which hostility is made so expensive that nations will be forced to think whether arbitra- tion may not solve their difficulties, and to hasten slowly at declaring war. That nation which is the most fully prepared for war is the most certain to be able to maintain its peace. KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. I. I THINK it well to announce, right in the beginning of this story, that Miles Bunkly is not properly its hero, though some preliminary things must be told con- cerning him. Although Miles had loved Miss Caroline Thigpeu long before Mr. Bill Williams courted her, yet he never had told her so in set words, until-well, you may say it was too late. Yet everybody was surprised. Miles was a most excel- ]ent young man, industrious, sober, thrifty, fond of laying up, and had a right good deal laid up already. Then he was quite passable as to looks. Mr. Bill could not have been said, even by Miss Thigpen, to have any advantage of Miles as to looks. As for the rest, all except Miss Thigpen and his own mother considered him the inferior. Yet Dukesborough manners, or something else, put him in the lead on his first entry upon the field. It was then, and not till then, that Miles Bunkly made one, and but one, avowed effort, and fail- ing, gave up the contest, and resigned him- self to what he called molloncholy. He had never beenat least he had nev- er seemed to bea cheerful-minded person anyway. His courtship even had been a rather solemn piece of business, and the final declaration sounded somewhat as if he had invited Miss Thigpen to go with him to the grave-yard instead of taking charge of his domestic affairs. The lady, after gently declining his suit, and claim- ing the privilege of regarding him as a friendnay, a brotherannounced her in- tention of ever keeping his proposal a se- cret, and requested him to do the same. No, maam, said Miles; no, Miss Carlin& I shall not deny it, nor I shall not deny it. Im much obleeged to you, and I shall be a friend to you and to yourn. The waound is in my heart, and it 11 stay thar, and it 11 be obleeged to stay thar, but Ill be a friend to you and yourn. On his way home he called to his neigh- bor and friend Abram Grice, who was standing in his door: Mawnin, Abom. Mawnin, Miles. Light and come in. Step out here a minute, Abom, ef you please. Mr. Grice came out to the gate. Kicked, Abom. Kicked, Miles? Who ? Kicked bad, Miles ? Powerful. Your horse, Miles, or a mule, or a steer ? Nary one. Its here, Abom. Then he laid his hand broadly on his breast. In the stomach, Miles? Bad place to git kicked. What in the thunder kicked you way up thar? Git down; come in and take a drink, and tell nie about it aft- erward. Its not my stomach, Abom; its my bres. The waounds insideway inside. Sperrits wouldnt do it any good; it wouldnt retch it. My goodness gracious! Miles Bunkly, what in the dickens is the matter with you ? Ive been yonder, Abom, and he pointed mournfully toward the Thigpens, and my desires is to tell no lies. I got it from a human person over thar, and that not of the sect of a man person. ~ATho ?Miss Carline ? Ef I was to name the name, Abom, that were the name I should name. Mr. Grice shouted with laughter. Miles Bunkly, you skeered me out of a years growth. I thought you been kicked by a team o mules, or at least a yoke o steers. Well, look here, you aint a-goin to stay kicked ? Its done done, Abom. Yes, but, Miles, Ive knowed sich as that ondone. Why, Saraun kicked me three 48 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. times han runnin; but I told her every time she done it that sich talk a.s that didnt phaze me. Thats women, Miles. Thems their ways. They aint a-goin to let a fellow know, not at the first off-start, that they goin to have him. I dont know what its for, ithout its jes natchelly to try to git the whip-hand of him at the start. Its the natchel instinc of the wo- man sect. You go back to Carline Thig- en, and dont let on that you member anything about her kickin of you, and that you aint even phazed by it. Youre sorter slow, old fellowthat is, in sich mo- tionsbut Carline Thigpen got too much sense to give up sich a chance. Nother person, Abom, replied Miles, most mournfully nother person, of the male sect. Whos he? William Williams. Who? Bill Williams ? exclaimed Mr. ~rice, in astonishment and disgust. Thats the name of the name, Abom. Well, Miles Bunkly, ef you cant whip out Bill Williams, even with his Dukes- borough ways he got by livin in town six months, all I got to say is you omght to git kicked by a yoke o steers, and run over by the keart in the bargain. Such and similar remonstrances were ineffectual to make Mr. Bunkly continue the contest. He retired at once, leaving the field to his rival. At the wedding, though he did not join in the dance, nor even in the plays, yet he partook suf- ficiently, it was thought, of meats, cakes, and syllabub. Mr. Bill and Miss Caro- line, her brother Allen and his young bride Betsann, were specially attentive to his wants. He yielded with profound sadness to their persistent offerings of good things, and the more syllabub he took, the mournfuler grew his deport- ment. To several persons, mainly elder- ly, he said during the evening that it was the molloncholiest of all days to him. Yit, furthersomemore he w6uld add, with touching unselfishness, ef her who is now Missis Carline Williams, and who THE CHALLENGE.[5EE PAGE 51.] KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. 49 were Miss Carline Thigpen, be it her or be it hem, ef her or them might ever want for anything which it might be her and their good rights or their desires, and ef then Im a-livinproviding, you under- stand, Im a-livinthey shall have it, ef its in my retch. II. Some four years passed. Mr. Bunkly, though plunged in his dear melancholy, yet attended punctually to his business in a gloomy, slow, sure way, made good crops, sold at good times, added to his land and plantation stock, and claiming to despise wealth, heaped it up more and more, as if to show, evidently, how vain are earthly goods for the happiness of a man in whose breast is an incurable wound. Mr. Bill Williams was getting along too, better than had been expected and prophesied. Much of the exuberant vi- vacity contracted by several months re- sidence in town had subsided in these four years of living with a wife (a settled oman, he styled her) who was probably the most industrious woman in the neigh- borhood. He well knew that everybody believed Miss Thigpen to have made a mistake in preferring himself to Miles Bunkly, and he had said to himself at the beginning of his conjugal career that he should take it upon himself to convince the world that it was mistaken. When his twin sons, iRomerlus and IRemerlus, were born and named, he felt that he was making reasonable headway on that am- bitious road. Then he too had added somewhat to his estate, and his wife, a fa- mous weaver, had picked up many a dol- lar by her extra work. They did not rise as rapidly as Miles, but Miles remained but one, while Mr. Bill, so to speak, had been two, and now he was four. People can not ignore figures in such calculations, especially when they represent mouths. Never mind, thought Mr. Bill never mind. Thus the contemplation of a for- mer rival, with whom, however, he was on the friendliest of terms, spurred a na- ture that otherwise might have been want- ing in the energy becoming the head of a family. The coming of the twins length- ened, strengthened, and sharpened this spur wonderfully. Only one thing interfered with the hap- piness of that rising family, and that was becoming serious. It would sting the wife VOL. Lxv.No. 385.4 painfully sometimes when she would hear of the practical jokes put upon her hus- band, who had become rather liable there- to by what had been considered in the neighborhood his too great forwardness of speech and other deportment. Too great a talker, as from the very first she had told him he was, she would tell him further that a man who got into scrapes ought to get out of them. In these four years he had sobered much under that be- nign influence. Yet when a man has once been the butt of neighborhood ridi- cule, it requires time to release him even when he has ceased to deserve it. Some- times it seems that the only way to obtain such release is to fight for it. That exi- gency, in the opinion of Mrs. Williams, had now arrived. One night, when the children had been put to bed, she said, William, youve got to whip somebody. She spoke pointedly. Mr. Bill looked behind him at the trun- dle-bed, and asked himself, Is it IRom, or is it Reme ? Nary one, was the audible answer. Its somebody biggern them, harder to whip, and a more deservin of it. Then Mr. Bill peered through the win- dow into the outer darkness, and specula- ted if there were insubordination among his little lot of negroes. Nor them neither. Its white folks; its MOSE GRIcE, thats who it is, and its nobody elsethat is, to start with. Mr. Bill was startled. Colonel Moses Grice had indeed been extremely rough with Mr. Bill on several occasions, and (being a childless married man, and thought to be sore on that point) had especially and repeatedly ridiculed the fa- ther of the twins. Yet he was a man of means, a considerable fighter, and colonel of the regiment. So Mr. Bill was obliged to be startled, and he looked at his wife. Youve been joked by Mose Grice, William, and poked fun at, and made game of by him, until I dont feel like standin of it no longer, nor I dont think Rom and Reme would feel like standin of it, not if they were big enough and had sense enough to understan his impu- dence. Why, Carline remonstrated Mr. Bill. Oh, you neednt be a-Carlinin o me 1 she said. And never before had Mrs.WIIl- iams addressed her husband in precisely 50 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. that language. But her feelings had been hurt, and allowance ought to be made. She cried somewhat, but tears did not serve at once to produce the softening in- fluence that is their legitimate result. Theres brother Allen, she continued, and which Betsann told me herself that Allen told her that the fact of the busi- ness was, if you didnt make Mose Grice keep his mouth shet, specially about Rom and Reme, he would; and then theres Miles Bunkly Oh, Lordie ! exclaimed Mr. Bill. Theres Miles Bunkly, and which Bet- sann say is about as mad as brother, and which, ef he aint any fighter, yit, when Mose Grice was one day a-makin game of him about his molloncholy, Miles told him that his molloncholy was his business and not hisn, and that if he kept on meddlin with it, he mout ketch the disease, and Mose Grice let Miles Bunklys mollon- choly alone, he did. And then, Mr. Bill said afterward, Carline sot up a cry, she did, and it woke up Rom and Reme, and they sot up a howl apiece, and I says to myself, Ill stand a whippin from Mose Grice rathern run agin sich as this. III. After that night Mrs. Williams did not again allude to its matter of conversation, and was as affectionate to her husband as always. Mr. Bill gloried in the possession of her, and he had good reason. He brooded and brooded. The allusion to Miles Bunkly stung him deeply, usually imperturbable as his temper was, though not a jot of jealousy was in the pang. He would have known himself to be the great- est of fools to feel that. Yet, easy-going, self-satisfied as he was, he knew that other people, including his brother-in-law, still regarded his wife less fortunate than she might have been. The more Mr. Bill brooded, the more serious appeared to him the relation of his case to that of several others, especially Colonel Grice. Superadded to a general disposition to impose upon whomsoever would endure him, Colonel Grice had a spite against Mr. Bill on account of the friendship that, since the intermarriage with Miss Thig- pen, had grown up between him and Abram Grice, the Colonels younger bro- ther, whose relations with himself were not only not fraternal, but hostile. The col- onel was a fighter, and had managed some- how always to come victorious out of com- bat; for he was a man of powerful build, and of great vigor and activity. Some, in- deed, had often said that he knew whom to encounter and whom not. His position of head of the regiment had been obtained at a time when military ardor, after a long peace, had subsided, and leading citizens cared not for the 4clat of the office. He had sought it eagerly, and obtained it be- cause there was no strong competitor, and especially because his election was ex- pected and intended to ridicule and dis- courage regimental parades. He was greatly exalted by his election, and be- came yet more overbearing whenever lie could do so with safety. Thats Mose, said his brother Abram one day to Miles Bunkly thats jest him. Hell impose on anybody that 11 let him, and hell try it with anybody that he thinks likes me. Hes been so from a boy. He imposed on me till I got big enough to whip him, which I done a time or two, and then he quit it. But he took his revenge on me by cheatin me out of part o the propty, and he done that the quicker because he knowed I, hem of his brother, wouldnt prosecute him for it. Thats Mosethats jest him. I hate the case, Abom, answered Miles, because I has that respects of Carhine Williams that it mortify me, and make me, so to speak, git molloncholier than what I natchelly am, to see a man thats her husbaud, and the father, as it were, o them two far pinks of boys, runned over in the kiud o style that Mose run over him, nigh and in and about every time he come up along of William Will- iams. I never keered no great deal about him, with them town ways o hisn, untell lie were married to Miss Carline, and then I knowed that there were obleeged to be that in William Williams which people in general never supposened. Ah, Miles, old fellow, said Abram, you ought to took that prize, and youd a done it ef youd a listened to me, and been perter in your motions, and hilt on longer. ~ No, no, Abom, answered Miles, his arm giving a mournful deprecatory wave. It were not my lot. I tried, and I tried honest and far. I were not worth of Miss Carhine, Abom. I didnt know it, but she did. And yit I could see it hurt her to put the waound where she knowed it were obleeged to stay. I wasnt a supposenen, KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. 51 though, as to that, that William were worth of Miss Carline neither. But Car- line ThigpenI aint a-speakin o your wife now, Abom, and a-leavin of her out o the caseCarline Thigpen, but which she is now Missis Carline Williams, is the smartest woman, and got the best jedg- ment, I ever saw. And sence she have choosed William Williams, I been certain in my mind that there were that in Will- iam Williams that the balance of us nev- er supposened. and which 11 show itself some day if William can ever git farly fotch to a right pint. Thus that nature, upright, unselfish, simple, fond to persuade itself that it was unhappy, took its chief solace in contem- plating and magnifying its own disap- pointments, and in sympathizing with those who had been their chief occasion. TV. It was muster day for the battalion. Cofonel Grice always felt it his duty to be at these occasions, preparatory to the great regimental parade. The exercises, after many hours, were coming to an end, as the companies marched, with short in- tervals between, down the one street of the village, preparatory to disbandment. Alternately had the colonel been compli- mentary and censorious, as he rode, some- times in a walk, other times at full gal- lop, up and down the lines. Peerter, peerter, major, he remon- strated with Major Pounds, respectfully indeed, but with a warmth that seemed difficult to repress peerter; make them captains peerten up them lines. My blood and thunder! my Juberter and Julus Ce- sar! if the enemy was to come upon us with fixted bannets Oh, youve done your part admarrably, major. Its them cap- tains. It was just before the final halt that the colonel addressed Captain Collins, whose company was in the centre, and then im- mediately in front of Blands store. Ah, Capn Collins, look to your rar. Its so fur behind that it look like two compa- nies stid o one. That sergeant o yourn youll have to talk to and drill in private. Hes arfter makin twins out o your com- pany. Sergeant Williams is a great man for twins, you know, capn. But you bet- ter tell him to make em keep his cubs at honie. We want solid columns when we come to the field of battle. The warrior enjoyed his jest, that had been heard by all in the company, and others besides. But he did not allow him- self even to smile when at the head of the military forces of his country, in order to keep himself ever on the alert against sud- den attacks of her enemies. His gloomy brow indicated indignation at the thought that a petty subaltern, from some vain no- tion of making his own domestic status the model of the nations principal means of defense, sought to demoralize it, and actually invite invasion. My Lord ! said Allen Thigpen, when they told him, if Bill dont fight him for that, I will! To think that sister Carlines feelins is to be hurt by hearin of sich as that 1 I dont think, Abom, said Miles (who overheard the remark), that it can be put off any longer. Ef theres that in Will- iam Williams which I been a-supposen is obleeged to be thar, hell fetch it out now. Now you go right on home, Abom. Miles said, afterward, My respects of Abom was that as he wouldnt stand up to his brother, it wouldnt look right to be agin him. When the battalion was dismissed, Allen walked rapidly to Mr. Bill. The latter was wiping the tears from his eyes with his handkerchief. Having finished this oper- ation, he went with a resolute step toward Blands piazza, whither Colonel Grice, aft- er dismounting and giving his horse to a servant to hold, had repaired. Ah, Mr. Bland, said the colonel, about to light a cigar, you peaceful men, you who follow in the peaceable waysdepart- ments, I might ruther sayof dry-goods, and hardwar, and molasses, and blankets, and trace chains, and other sich depart- ments, so to call all o the warious wane- ties of a sto-keepers businessyou dont knowI may say you don~t dreamMr. Bland, of the responsuability of a military man whose countrys enemies may be at the very gates Colonel Grice ! said Mr. Bill Will- iams, in a tone nobody had ever heard from him before. The colonel turned to see who called. Mr. Bill was standing on the ground, Allen Thigpen and Miles Bunkly by his side. Hello! Bill, said the colonel, with careless cordiality. What 11 you have, my dear fellow ? Ill have satisfaction, Mose Grice. Im not a fightin man, and I know I have sometimes been keerless in my talk, yit I 52 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. never went to hurt peoples feelings a-pur- pose, and I always helt myself more of a gentleman than to insult women and lit- tle childern, and which you cant say for yourself without tellin of a lie, and a fight- in lie at that. Those words operated the greatest sur- prise that ever befell Colonel Moses Grice. Partly in astonishment, partly in wrath, and partly in deprecation, he exclaimed: What in this wide omnipotent world! Is the Colonel of the Fourteenth Regi- ment got to study his langwidges Come, Mose Grice, said Miles, slow- ly but distinctly, the musters over now, and William Willians is your ekal, and he is liable to have his satisfaction, onlest you apologizes for your langwidges. I dont want his apologies, said Mr. Bill. I wont have his apologies. Hes got to fight, ithout he gits on his horse and runs away.~~ I cant stand that,~~ said the colonel. Throwing off his coat, he came rapidly down the steps to where Mr. Bill, similar- ly stripped, awaited him. V. Whoever has not seen a combat be- tween two powerful, irate men, with no weapons other than those supplied by na- ture, has missed the sight, though he may not regret it, of a thrilling scene. The blows, the grapplings, the struggles of every kind, are as if each combatant had staked every dear thing upon the result, and set in to save it or die. The advan- tages on this occasion, except the right, were with the colonel. Taller by an inch, though perhaps not heavier, agile, prac- ticed, and in the full maturity of his phys- ical powers, he had, besides, a contempt for his adversary, and expected to prevail speedily. Mr. Bill himself rather counted upon this result; but he had made up his mind that such was preferable to what he would endure without an attempt to pun- ish this persistent insulting raillery. He had never been a participant in a fight of any sort; but he had labored habitually at the heaviest work upon his farm, and he had broken, unassisted, many a colt, horse and mule, of his famous Molly Sparksthe most willful and indocile of dams. He had now the special disadvan- tage of having been upon his feet during several hours of tiresome exercises. Hell try to ride you, Bill, said Allen, hastily, but you keep him off. He can fling you, I expect; but you can outlast him in licks. Dont let him ride you. As the colonel advanced, Mr. Bill- But, alas! I am not an epic bard, nor even a Pindaric, nor is there one whom I can command to duly celebrate this combat. Mr. Bowden, the village post- master, was a person somewhat addict- ed to poetry (reading it, I mean), and he was heard to say several times afterward that it reminded him, he thought, more than any fight he had ever witnessed, of the famous one between Diomede and Mars on the plain of Troy. But the school-mas- ter, who was a Homeric scholar, rather in- timated to some of the advanced pupils that Mr. Bowden did not seem to him quite clear in his mind which was Mars and which Diomede. For a first fight, and that with an experienced antagonist, Mr. Bill conducted himself with surprising dexterity in the giving and evasion of blows, and when evasion was not success- ful, with becoming fortitude. It was however, a tiresome business. He showed that, and once, after putting in one of his best, when he was attempting to withdraw himself from the return, he had the mis- fortune to tread upon a corn-cob that hap- pened to be lying in his rear. This turn- ing beneath him, he lost his balance, and the colonel rushing upon him, he fell to the ground upon his left side. There, now ! said Miles Bunkly. Hadnt been for that confounded corn- cob Unable to finish what he would have said, he raised his hands on high, and clasped them in intense grief. Whisper- ing to Allen a few words, he took out his handkerchief and covered his eyes for several moments. Bill, said Allen, Miles says, hold on as long as you can. If you git too badly used up, hell help you take care o IRom and IReme. Then Mr. Bill Williams was worth see- ing, though prostrate on the field. These words fell upon his ear with a force irre- sistible. But for Mr. Bowdens incertitude as to the impersonation of those combat- ants of the heroic age, he might have coni- pared these words of Miles to those of Pallas, when Raged Tydides, boundless in his ire: Pallas commands, and Pallas lends thee force. As it was, Mr. Bill pronounced the names Rom and Reme once, and then he KING WILLIAM AND HIS ARMIES. 53 gave a groan that sounded less a groan than a roar. And then, in spite of the su- perincumbent weight, he suddenly reach- ed his arm around the colonels neck, and drew his head to the ground. It was said of Miles Bunkly by people of veracity, and those.who had known him longest and most intimately, that this was the only occasion during life whereon he was known to have shouted. Then, with the mildness yet the solemnity of an ex- perienced good man whose admonitions thereto have gone unheeded, he remarked to the colonel, as the latters body was slowly but inevitably following his head beneath Mr. Bill, like the stag in the ana- condas mouth, You see how it is, Mose; I told you, if you didnt mind, youd ketch the molloncholy yourself some day. The colonel, apparently concluding that the time had come, said, as distinctly as he could, Stop it, Bill; I give it up. Let him up, Bill, said Allen; you got his word. No, sir, not till hes apologized. Hes jest acknowledged hisself whipped; he haint apologized. Im sorry, Bill, for havin hurted your feelins and your wifes, said the colonel. So fur so good, answered Mr. Bill, leisurely stretching himself at ease on his foe, as if he would repose after his fatigue so fur so good; but what about Rom- erlus Williams and Remerlus Williams ? He never called the full names of his boys except on impressive occasions. Come, Bill, said Allen, taking him by the arm, enoughs enough. Mr. Bill rose with the reluctant air of a man roused from a luxurious couch where- on he had been indulging, though not to the full, in sweet sleep and sweeter dreams. The colonel arose, and, unpitied of all, slunk limping away. Miles Bunkly, the tears in his eyes, laid his hands on Mr. Bills shoulders, and said: I knowed it were obleeged to be in you, William, ef it could be fotch out; and my respects of a certain person was that, that I knowed shed fetch it out in time. Its done fotch out, and from this time forrards you and yo~nrn may go long your gayly way down the hill o life, and all I got to say to you and them, William, is, Go IT! And now go wash your face and hands, and go long home to happiness and bliss. I dont say you never deserved em before, but I do say you deserves em now. VI. My! said Mr. Bill, when he had wash- ed, and was feeling the knots and bruises on his face, and trying to open his eyes my! but aint it tiresome? I ruther maul rails all day ithout my dinner, or break two o old Mollys colts, mules at that, than to have to go through sich as that agin. Thanky, Miles, and come and see a fellow. He bade all adieu, and went on home, where something in the bosom of his family awaited him that is worth relating. The news having pre- ceded him, his wife, a pious woman, was a little troubled in her mind at first for hav- ing given to her husband the spur to a feeling that was not entirely consistent with duty; yet when they had told her the whole story, she rose, laid aside her work, went to her chest, got out her very best frock, and every thread Gf her chil- drens Sunday clothes, including many a ribbon that had survived its ancient use, and arrayed herself and them to greet the hcro upon his return. The whicker of old Molly at the foot of the lane, and the answer of the colt in the lot, announced the joyous moment. Dismounting at his gate, Mr. Bill would fain have indulged his eyes with that goodly sight; but one of them was entirely and the other partially closed. He became aware of the rushing into his arms of a person of about the size of his wife, and justly guessed to be her, and the cries of two children which he rather thought were familiar to his ears. For the boys, when they saw their father all battered and bruised, set up a yelling, and retreated. You Rom! you Reme ! cried the in- dignant mother, laughing the while, if you dont stop that crying and making out like you dont know your father, Ill skin you both alive! Come back here, and if you as much as whimper, Ill pull off them ribbons, strip you to your shirts, and put you to bed without a mouthful for your supper I They came back, did those boys. Look at him,sirs. Dont tell me you dont know him. Who is it ? Pappy, said Rom, on a venture, fol- lowed by Reme. And aint he the grandest man thats a-living ? Eth in, said Rom. Eth in, said Reme. Now git behind thar, and les all march in. 54 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. And we did march in, said Mr. Bill, afterward me, and Carline, and Rom, and Reme; and as we was a-marchin along, I feltblamed if I didntlike King William at the heads of his armies. Miles Bunkly had become too fond of his molloncholy to let it depart entire- ly; but its severest pains subsided in spite of him, now that the rival who had been preferred to him had justified the prefer- ence. My respects of William Williams, he would often say, is that, that it nc- oncile me and do my molloncholy good that hes the husband and the protector, as it were, ofwell, ef I should name the name, it would be Carline Thigpen that were. For some weeks immediately following the day of the fight he had been observed, from time to time, in the intervals of other business, engaged with a work seeming to require much painstaking, the result of which will immediately appear. One morning Mr. Bill, standing in his door, called to his wife: Come here, Carline, quick! Who and what can them be yonder a-comm up to the gate? Somebody, pear like, a-leadin of a par o dogs hitched to a little waggin. Mrs. Williams, looking intently at the comers cried: Its brother, leading of a par o calves yoked to a little cart. She was right. Good gracious, brother But Allen paid not the slightest atten- tion to his sister, not even saying good- morning. Here, Roni; here, Reme (his business being with them), heres a present for you from Miles Bunkly; and he in par- ticklar charge me to tell you, and which ef you werent old enough yit to have sense enough, twouldnt be long before you would be to understan sich lang- widges, that his respects of your father was that, that he sent you the follerin keart and steers, and which he made the keart with his own hands, the paintin and all, and likewise broke the steers, and which theyre jest six months old to-day, and which you moutnt believe it, but they are twin calves, them steers is, of his old cow Speckle-face, and which he say is the best and walliblest cow lie ever pos- sessioned, and which them was the very words he said. Then turning to his sister and brother- in-law, he said, Mawnin, sister Carline; mawnin, Bill. Mr. Bill roared with laughter; Mrs. Bill shed tears in silence, both in their abound- ing gratitude. And twins at that ! said Mr. Bill, jes like Rom and iReme I An idea struck him as with the suddenness of inspiration. Allen, he asked, vaguely, does you know the names o them steers I No, Bill; Miles didnt Makes no odds ef he did. I names them steers; and you see theyre adzactly alike, exceptin that that one in the lead got the roundesta leetle the roundest blaze in the forrard. Going slowly to the latter, and laying his hand upon his head, he said, This here steer here is name Mierlus. Then walking slowly down around the cart and up to the oth- er, he laid his hand upon his head, saying, This here steer here is name Bunkerlus. Then he took his boys, lifted them into the cart, contemplated all with a satisfaction that had no bottom to it, then waved his hand in preparation for a harangue that few other things could have prevented than that which immediately transpired. Miles Bunkly himself appeared at the gate, and walked in, his face wreathed in melancholy smiles. Why, Miles, you blessed everlastin old fellow ! exclaimed Mr. Bill. They were people too honest and plain to feel any embarrassment. The generous donor at once took the cart lines into his hands, and led the procession several times about the yard and the lot, as innocent and in many respects as much a child as those on whom he had bestowed his gift. The ardor of Mr. Bill could not be subdued as he looked upon the scene. Tears like those in his wifes eyes came into his own, and he said, softly, to her and to Allen: I never spected to live to see sich a skene and sich a ewent. Thar they goes, Romerlus Williams, and Remerlus Will- iams, and Mierlusahem Williams, and Bunkerlus Williams, and Miles Bunkly hisself, and the keart and all; and Ill channelge, I dont s~y this county, but this whole State o Georgie, to pejuce a skene and pejuce a ewent as lovely as the present skene and the present ewent on this lovely mawnin like. It do look like, Allenit do look like the families is unit- ed and jinded together. Mr. Bills throat choked up with just enough space left to MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. 55 allow of breathing, but of not another word. Allen, said Miles, when, the visit be- ing over, they were on their way home, to think of William a - couplin of my name along with them lovely boys! Well, Allen, I never expects to git intirely over my molloncholy, but I tell you, Allen, I were never as nigh of bein of riconciled to it. MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. XITHOS Mrs. Winterrowd ? VVThere is a question that shocks me as I write it down. Nevertheless, it is what my friend McAloon (who had the misfortune to be graduated from a West- ern college) asked me when I told him we had an invitation to her musical affair of Wednesday evening, January 18. Of course nobody else needs to be told about her; but I had to explain to McAloon that Mrs. Winterrowd, though not herself famous, knew many famous people, and that, although she was not the mother of her great-grandfather, nor in any way re- sponsible for him, she had done the best she could for that gentleman and for her- self by being descended from him, and was fully aware of her meritorious conduct. He, you remember, was no other than General Killamy Matchett, an early com- mander of the Valiant Horse Fencibles (one of the first military troops formed in the province of the Massachusetts), who won great distinction by having predicted the revolt of the colonies, and then dying corn- fortably at home before the outbreak of hostilities. Mrs. Winterrowd has, among other heirlooms, General Killamys sword, with which he would probably have slain many British oppressors had he lived. The Matchetts were very good at inher- iting or marrying property. They were distinguished, and it took all their time and energy to supply the distinction therefore those who married them had to furnish the funds. Mrs. Winterrowds husband is descended from a fine old typ- ical Boston merchant, and is wealthy, of course. When I had finished enlightening poor McAloon on these points, I feel a great deal better, he announced, for, however insignificant I myself may be, I am now sure that there is somebody in the world for whom it is worth while that it should go on. But will you explain why it is called a musicale instead of a music par- ty, or simply a musical ? That is Mrs. Winterrowds style, my dear fellow, said I. Dont you appre- ciate it? It is like the mark of nobility implied in saying invalide, instead of in- valid. That single letter e added to the word musical marks all the difference be- tween your hopeless Western crudity and the refinement of centuries. I see, said my friend, meekly; and I think he was prepared after that for the felicity in store for him. When the evening arrived~ we repaired to the dignified mansion on Common- wealth Avenue where this delightful party was to take place. One of the very first persons I met in the drawing-rooms was Sophia Morne, a very lovely girl of great attractiveness, whom I had promised my companion much pleasure in seeing. She is a little white, but not enough so to de- tract from her peculiar beauty, like that of an old portrait, always young. Her dress also was white, with many clever lines breaking up the surface, and giving a chance for artistic trimming, puffs, folds, and soft shadows. Her hair is unlike al- most anything I have ever seen in others, being brown, yet with a kind of bright- ness about it that makes it look as if some beam of light were playing upon it, and just about to vary its hue a trifle. She wore it drawn up from the forehead that evening, and at the lower tips of her ears you saw the gleam of very small topaz gems. All this added power to the sweet, thoughtful eyes, the plaintive repose of her mouth, and the grace of those delicate cheeks, which I never can help fancying are made thin by some unknown sadness, until I see her smile, and then the notion takes flight. I wonder what Planetsure, the eminent scientist, thought of her as he stood there talking to her, with his hands, like relics of the Stone Age, tightly clasped across the very recent deposit of dress-coat that covered his back? The two were very deep in some severe discussion, but Miss Morne bowed to me. I confess I should have been unhappy if she had not done so. Our hostess, to whom we had said good- evening, passed me just then, beariry McAloon to the large room at the rear, where the two pianos stood. I soon saw that she was going to present him to Miss Fetters, the brilliant authoress, whose

MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. 55 allow of breathing, but of not another word. Allen, said Miles, when, the visit be- ing over, they were on their way home, to think of William a - couplin of my name along with them lovely boys! Well, Allen, I never expects to git intirely over my molloncholy, but I tell you, Allen, I were never as nigh of bein of riconciled to it. MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. XITHOS Mrs. Winterrowd ? VVThere is a question that shocks me as I write it down. Nevertheless, it is what my friend McAloon (who had the misfortune to be graduated from a West- ern college) asked me when I told him we had an invitation to her musical affair of Wednesday evening, January 18. Of course nobody else needs to be told about her; but I had to explain to McAloon that Mrs. Winterrowd, though not herself famous, knew many famous people, and that, although she was not the mother of her great-grandfather, nor in any way re- sponsible for him, she had done the best she could for that gentleman and for her- self by being descended from him, and was fully aware of her meritorious conduct. He, you remember, was no other than General Killamy Matchett, an early com- mander of the Valiant Horse Fencibles (one of the first military troops formed in the province of the Massachusetts), who won great distinction by having predicted the revolt of the colonies, and then dying corn- fortably at home before the outbreak of hostilities. Mrs. Winterrowd has, among other heirlooms, General Killamys sword, with which he would probably have slain many British oppressors had he lived. The Matchetts were very good at inher- iting or marrying property. They were distinguished, and it took all their time and energy to supply the distinction therefore those who married them had to furnish the funds. Mrs. Winterrowds husband is descended from a fine old typ- ical Boston merchant, and is wealthy, of course. When I had finished enlightening poor McAloon on these points, I feel a great deal better, he announced, for, however insignificant I myself may be, I am now sure that there is somebody in the world for whom it is worth while that it should go on. But will you explain why it is called a musicale instead of a music par- ty, or simply a musical ? That is Mrs. Winterrowds style, my dear fellow, said I. Dont you appre- ciate it? It is like the mark of nobility implied in saying invalide, instead of in- valid. That single letter e added to the word musical marks all the difference be- tween your hopeless Western crudity and the refinement of centuries. I see, said my friend, meekly; and I think he was prepared after that for the felicity in store for him. When the evening arrived~ we repaired to the dignified mansion on Common- wealth Avenue where this delightful party was to take place. One of the very first persons I met in the drawing-rooms was Sophia Morne, a very lovely girl of great attractiveness, whom I had promised my companion much pleasure in seeing. She is a little white, but not enough so to de- tract from her peculiar beauty, like that of an old portrait, always young. Her dress also was white, with many clever lines breaking up the surface, and giving a chance for artistic trimming, puffs, folds, and soft shadows. Her hair is unlike al- most anything I have ever seen in others, being brown, yet with a kind of bright- ness about it that makes it look as if some beam of light were playing upon it, and just about to vary its hue a trifle. She wore it drawn up from the forehead that evening, and at the lower tips of her ears you saw the gleam of very small topaz gems. All this added power to the sweet, thoughtful eyes, the plaintive repose of her mouth, and the grace of those delicate cheeks, which I never can help fancying are made thin by some unknown sadness, until I see her smile, and then the notion takes flight. I wonder what Planetsure, the eminent scientist, thought of her as he stood there talking to her, with his hands, like relics of the Stone Age, tightly clasped across the very recent deposit of dress-coat that covered his back? The two were very deep in some severe discussion, but Miss Morne bowed to me. I confess I should have been unhappy if she had not done so. Our hostess, to whom we had said good- evening, passed me just then, beariry McAloon to the large room at the rear, where the two pianos stood. I soon saw that she was going to present him to Miss Fetters, the brilliant authoress, whose 56 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. books one ought not to read without stand- ing on glass bottles, to lessen the electric shock. Turning away rapidly to avoid watching him in his perilous position, I came upon the Reverend Griswold Por- beck, with his mild smile and arrogant, spectacled upper face. In fact, the apart- ments were filled with people intellectu- ally, socially, or otherwise notable. There was Mrs. Orton West, at whose house the meetings of the Knotty Point Club are held, and Miss Truesdale, secretary of the Women Engineers Society; Leverett, who published a poem of eight lines in one of the magazines last autumn, and has been so lionized by the ladies ever since that he is afraid to print anything more; also that charming Miss Mignon Stanlow, the heir- ess, who looks so exquisite in her half- mourning. Here too was Miss Yarrow, the poets daughter, who scanned all the young men as if they ~vere very imperfect rhymes for herall except Jim Torringford, who has grown a British beard, and has become a most insufferable snob, since leaving college. But even there, I remember, we used to call him the Bull pup, because of his trotting after English models so subserviently. It is not likely that all these people really knew or cared much about music, but they wished it to be un- derstood that they did. Suddenly there was a stir. Messrs. Rall and Tando (two professionals, who, distin- guished as they are, were nevertheless im- mensely flattered at being invited to per- form here) were seen seated at the upright pianos, like leaders of hostile forces in the transient hush before battle. They were about to begin a duet. With a blind crash the attack opened. Their fingers plunged into the keys in a truly awful manner, as if they were imbruing their hands in human blood. They glared, al- most snorted, dug at the ivory, andas the pianos were placed back to back seemed to threaten ploughing their way straight through the rose - wood breast- work, and engaging in combat at short range. When Rall flung his head back in an agony of feeling, Tando leaned for- ward over his key-board with eager exul- tation. And when Tando bade fair to have everything his own way, and was sweeping the field with a succession of stormy martial chords, Rall watched his opportunity, and pounced down with a sharp volley of high notes which com- pletely routed his opponent. When peace had been restored, I got Mac away from Miss Fetters, and present- ed him to Sophia Morne. And you are very musical in Cincin- nati too ? she half queried, while her to- paz ear-rings gave a quick flash with the swift turn of her head. They even say that you are carrying off the honors in that way now from Boston and New York. I see that they have hardly con- vinced you, at any rate, Miss Morne, said he, noticing the doubt in her voice. I dont know; Ive never been there. Ive heard a great deal about it, though, from some friends. And I should so like, she recommenced, with unforeseen enthusiasm, to see Cincin Should you ? inquired my friend, at once eagerly responsive, leaning forward impulsively. II think so at times, Sophia an- swered, all at once eying him a jittle more distantly. You are fond of music, he resumed, in a rapid, perfunctory tone. What did you think of the duet ? Sophia said, candidly and with a little smile, I dont like it. Hereupon McAloon and I confessed the same. I saw that these two people would soon come to a good understanding, and never before that moment had I been fully aware how handsome my young Western- er was. The situation must have impressed Mrs. Winterrowd too; for had she not her niece Bertha staying with her, for whom a brill- iant match was but a natural destiny? She came up and interrupted. Miss Morne is a veritable protestant in musical matters, she began. She is always trying to reform us; she will never give up to the orthodox opinion if she can help it. I remember you were firmly op- posed to Von Biilow, she added, turning to the charming culprit. My friends eyes lighted again. And you preferred Rubinstein ? he asked. Miss Morne was not afraid to give a quiet assent. Then began the usual patter about Jo- seffy, Marie Krebs, Von Hammer, Van Pummel, and the rest, which I have my- self been through so many times. I es- caped to the neighborhood of Miss Stanlow, observing at the same time that Bertha Matchett had moved nearer the group, with a friend. In a moment or two more her MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. 57 aunt, accidentally discovering her, had en- trapped McAloon. What an unfortunate name ! exclaim- ed Miss Stanlow, when I mentioned it to her. I was surprised to find that the remark gave me an unaccountable comfort, though I had not known till that instant that I stood in need of any. Could it be that I was the least particle jealous of Mac? Ah, Miss Stanlow, I half sighed to the graceful creature at my elbow, why are we forever talking about something and professing to care for something that is really of secondary moment? Dont you get dreadfully tired of it ? Ill tell you the exact truth, said she. I get tired of almost everything except the Diagonal. I laughed, and yet I believed her. I hope you include your partner, I continued. The last time I danced the Diagonal was with you at Mrs. Shaw Stevensons. Dont you remember ? Was it more than ordinary intention that caused Miss Stanlow to answer, with a full, dark glance, I have not forgotten, Mr. Endicott? There is a species of subtle understanding between two good waltzers who are in the habit of dancing together, unlike any other rapport. It may lead to further sympathies, or it may remain always exactly the same. For a moment I fancied this pleasant waltz sentiment of ours might be budding into something else. (And why not? Mignon had mon- ey enough for us both.) Ah, now we are to have the quar- tette, I heard her saying, in the midst of my transient reverie. The quartette had the effect of waking everybody up. All the distinctively mu- sical people got together in groups and held animated confabulations. The words opus,~~ sequence, high color, po- lyphony, shading, and the like, echoed on every side; and young Stiles went about telling all the people he hadnt said it to before how exploded the Beethoven mania was. One of the new interpretative com- posers, Miss Stanlow murmured to me, with her half-cynical smile, ought to write a Conversation Symphony, de- scriptive of musical criticism in a draw- ing-room, translating it into sound And fury, I threw in. Signifying nothing ? queried mycom- panion. At this point, however, we went down to supper. Mac had succeeded in getting back to Sophia Morne, whom he took down, and Miss Stanlow and I, coming behind, could hear them conversing in a tone of agreeable intimacy, which I didnt altogether relish. No, he was saying, I quite agree with you that this is not the pleasantest way to listen to music. One needs a lit- tle more solitude. In fact, a single sym- pathetic companion is enough. Dont you think so Im not sure, was the answer. But at least that shows you dont demand a great deal. Its well to be moderate, he laughed, quietly. Still, what I ask for is not so easily found. The supper was superb, and the Rever- end Porbeck, warmed with secular wine, entertained a select group by descanting on Greek music and old Church anthems (his favorite theme at these parties), while Hall and Tando cooled their jangling pas- sions in plates of ice-cream. Then we went up stairs again, and had some more music. Last of all on the programme came Virgin, our new composera most lovable fellow, though sad and ill from his long struggle with popular indifference. God pity a genius like Virgin, ex- claimed MeAloon, as we walked home, if lie has to wait for recognition from that whimsical circle 1 Then you didnt enjoy the party ? I inferred. Why not? Tell me what you thought of the people. Well, said he, restraining his usual impetuosity, they were almost enthusi- astic after supper. Go on, I urged him. But at least youll admit they were critical. Frankly, he replied, I thought the company made a merit of their apathy; and when they at last began to feel and en- joy to a slight extent, they flattered them- selves they were giving discriminating praise. Poor Virgin! I wish hed go out to Cincinnati with me. I wouldnt like to be in his shoes. By-the-way, I asked, dont you com- pose at all ? Hardly. I forgot to mention before that Mac was himself a pianist of great endowments; the most brilliant amateur I think I ever heard; but he had forbidden me to let the fact loose upon Boston. 58 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. We were crossing the bridge over the swan pond in the Public Garden,when he burst out, a good deal as if he were strik- ing a full chord on the piano: Great Heaven! that girls eyes were worth all the melodies I ever heard. I was not perfectly ingenuous, I sup- pose, in asking, Whose ?Bertha Match- etts ? No; Miss Mornes. You havent said a word about her since we left Mrs. Win- terrowds, continued my emotional com- rade, almost with petulance. Can you see, think, and feel, and yet keep silence about such a dream of a woman? Do you do this, and profess to be alive ? I profess, but I hope Im not really alive, said I, for in that case Im a mis- take not easily repaired. Thats your Boston way of keeping your sentiments to yourself, I suppose, he retorted. But tell me something about Miss Morne, cant you ? I assured Mac that she was of excellent family, but that family had nearly been her fathers ruin. His father had suddenly lost his money, and the young- er Morne had had an opporturnity to go to the West at a very favorable time, and enter the pork-packing business. But his relatives had all opposed it, ou the ground that poverty and the scraps of a social prestige in Boston were infinitely prefer- able to seeking a new fortune in so ques- tionable a field. What business were the Moines in ? asked MeAloon, rather gravely. It used to be called groceries, but on Mornes account we now call it, in a gen- eral way, importing. Oh! He is doing better at this time than he has heretofore, I went on. He took the advice of his relatives, and has spent his whole life and strength trying to cling to the edge of fashionable society. I think its been a hard position for his daughter, but she has been well treated. He soon saw her again. I took him to call at the house some days later. He didnt seem to mind in the least that the white paint of the old street door was blis- tered all over by age into a fine crackle; nor that Sophias father was a shallow old gentleman in an emaciated coat, who wore a mildly alarmed expression, as if forever fearing that somebody would re- member that one wrong impulse of his youth, and would get the impression that he had gone into pork-packing after all. Very soon Mac began to have ideas that conflicted with mine about the dispo- sition of our evenings, and it ended in his going his way, and my going mine. Of course I knew what this meant. Mean- while I was fortunate enough to have another delightful evening of waltzing with Miss Stanlow. Mac pretended (so I thought) to be very much occupied with some business ven- tures. He was continually running down to Devonshire Street, and looking for the latest reports of sales in the papers. It was hardly possible that these interests should absorb his evenings; but one night when he gave me to understand he was going to talk things over with his broker at the Tremont House, I sauntered out to- ward Bowdoin Street, with some intention of calling on Miss Morne. As I came near the house I paused. Then suddenly from within some penetra- ting notes of a piano rolled forth. No, not rolled; I ought to say stalked, for they came like ghosts to me. I felt my friend~s hand in the touch. He seemed to be working with those sounds a spell of warning and disaster against me. Oddly enough, I felt it impossible to seek ad- mittance at the old crackle door after this. An unfortunate name, Miss Stanlow had said, and I consoled myself with the words. Do what he would at the piano, my friend could never throw any music into Mrs. MeAloon, and I said to my- self persuasively that Sophia would never be induced to accept that title. It took very little time for the secret of Macs musical prowess to get abroad after he had betrayed it. Mrs. Winterrowd be- gan to make a tremendous fuss over the discovery. I shall never have any con- fidence in you again, she declared to me, with playful rage, at Mrs. Orton Wests kettledrum. You knew it all the time, and ought to have told me. But I dont believe you have a bit of music in your soulno, not a bit. But she did what she could by giving a dinner, and chaining him to the piano for exhibition after it. In fine, she made a lion of him, insisted on his accompany- ing Bertha and herself to various enter- tainments, made him perform at a charity matin6e, and assumed the part of having unearthed his genius, and even of having MRS. WINTERROWDS MUSICALE. 59 pointed it out to Mac himself when he was hardly aware of possessing it. Seeing this, certain old ladies of the Back Bay settled it in their minds that he would soon be offered up to Bertha Match- ett. But they were destined to enjoy a greater surprise. One day when I had got back to our rooms from a committee meeting at the club, and was soothing my nerves with Apollinaris and a cigarette, Mac came striding in under great excite- ment. Endicott, he cried, in his nervous, musical manner, closing and stretching his long fingers as he glared at me, you have a great many fine girls in Boston. I dont need to be told that. Some of them are beautiful, he next remarked. I again mildly assented. But only Miss Morne has a soul I he wound up. Here I felt obliged to protest. My dear boy, you are aware that I have a sis- ter here, several cousins, and Oh, yes, yes, he said, hurriedly, I suppose they have souls, some sort of soulsthat isyou know what I mean, dont you ? Im afraid I looked nega- tive; but his eye fell on the piano; he darted at it, sat down, and swept the keys with a wild sunny strain, which he wouldnt take the trouble to finish, and then he whirled around and looked ear- nestly at me. The fact is, he said, she has consented. Im going to marry her. I threw away my cigarette and looked at him seriously. Heaven and earth ! said he, jumping up. Does it affect you so badly? Whats the matter, old fellow? You dont con- gratulate me. I will as soon as Ive taken breath, said I. (I was wondering how Sophia had reconciled herself to the name.) Heres my hand, I continued. Since you have won Miss Mornes, take mine too. Thats a queer form of congratula- tion, he said, presently. I wonder what it means ? Then, in a solemn tone: IL think you cared more for her than you ever told me. You jump at conclusions, Mac. But if you did, he went on, why didnt you take her before I came in your way ? I hardly know what moved me to go on, but I said: Granting your assump tion, if I had asked her to have me, she couldnt have afforded it. MeAloons eyes grew smoky with bat- tle. Do you mean to insult her, Endi- cottor me Neither. Take it andante cantabile. I think Miss Morne is the loveliest creature in the world, but I never offered myself to herno. You know well enough, Mac, that Im a man of expensive habits, with a small and droughty income. My friend still looked displeased. I dont see anything in that, he said. But dont you understand, there are traditionsduties to society? Ive told you what Morne sacrificed; how he has struggled to keep his place in our circle, and so on. You dont imagine I want to put myself in the same position? I dare say Miss Morne has had enough of it too. But with youwhy, the whole affair is very different. Macs face darkened. The mans moods changed as swiftly as those of a sonata. He had entered the room in a whirl of de- light, suffered a disappointment, grown angry with me, and now he fell a prey to suspicion. So you think she is willing to marry me because my father is rich ? he de- manded. I say nothing of the kind. No, I dont think it. It doesnt present itself to me in that way at all. Nevertheless he began, but walked away to the window, and looked out in a threatening manner. This is damnable, Endicott, he muttered, suddenly coming back, and looking contemptuously at the bottle. What is? Pm completely upset. After what youve said, it must be so. At any rate, I shall never feel certain. Ive always thought it foolish to bother myself with such ideas, but it does make a great difference. If Sophia has been influ- enced Listen to me, I interrupted. Why should you inquire? You love Miss Morne. She has accepted you. It is to be presumed that she returns your feeling; and, with- out flattery, I dont see why she shouldnt. There is no obstacle to your union, so In fact, thats the whole story. But, Its not so easily settled, he in- sisted, and went off to his own room. I was still thinking it over, and trying to analyze my own feelings (if I had any), 60 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. when he came in again, and after walk- ing about a little, halted by the fire-place. That was so, was it ? he began. You never proposed to her? If you had, it would have been better. I should feel more confidence. Mac, said I, I have just one thing to say, and that is, drop your doubts. Im not going to discuss this subject with you any further. No, I didnt mean to, he returned, to my surprise, apologetically. I drifted back to it. What I came in to speak about is quite another thing. You men- tioned your income just now. Yes, but Wait a moment; youll see that has nothing to do with it. I am surprised that you dont improve your affairs. How? By speculation. For the last month, while I was uncertain whether Miss Morne would have me, I have found I must have some excitement, besides music, to distract me. So I have been falling back on my business streak. I took flyerscopper, gold, railroads, whatever I could get into. The result is, with what Ive turned in and what I carry, Im ten thousand dollars bet- ter off than I was. Ten thousand ! Yes. And you can do the same. Nonsense. You know I cant risk any money in that sort of thing. You neednt risk your own. Ill lend you what you like. But if I should lose it Never mind. As I tell you, Ive made this profit, and if I lose the whole, it wouldnt matter; so theres no sort of rea- son why you shouldnt take a part, and lose it, if you prefer to do that. The proposition was so abrupt that I hardly knew how to receive it. I could see, however, that he was bent on my ac- cepting it. So I thanked him, and agreed to borrow two thousand. He gave me the sum in a draft on his father, and we went down to the brokers in Devonshire Street, where I invested to that amount; but, from a perversity I couldnt wholly account for, I went very lightly into the mines and railroads Mac had chosen. For the next four days the state of the market was, as Planetsure said when I de- scribed it to him, like a geologic convul- sion. But my luck was astounding. On reviewing my condition, I saw that my gains were very nearly sixteen thousand dollars. At the very moment when I was trying to comprehend such good fortune, the bro- ker received notice from his bank that a telegram had come, saying Macs draft had been dishonored. What can it mean ? I exclaimed. Very extraordinary, said the broker, fingering the note he had just read. A man of Mr. McAloons standing! There must be trouble ahead. And so I lose my investments ? I in- quired. I should be glad to take them, said the broker, who was a club man. But youd better sell off enough to cover the two thousand and commissions, and re- tain the rest. Sell off every pennys worth, then , I besought him, and give me what belongs to ~ The order was carried out at the second board. Your friends stocks have fallen off badly, observed the man of business, meanwhile. And now this dishonored draft He drew in his breath and look- ed puzzled. Yes, so I have observed. Mac has been losing every day while Ive been gaining. It is very queer luck. My rapid sales caused me some loss; but after paying what I owed, I came away with about thirteen thousand. Then I went in search of my friend. He was alone in an upper room at the club, and he too had received a telegram. It was from his father, and ran thus: Wheat combination treacherously bro- ken. Falling market has cleaned me out. Cleaned him out ! I echoed. That means hes ruined, doesnt it? But it cant be. I thought he was worth two or three millions. That doesnt make it any pleasanter, said Mac, rather bitterly. He was worth it, as you say. Well, Ive got a mere atom of a for- tune here in my pocket, said I, drawing out the brokers heavy check. Let me assist you. And then I told him of the dishonored draft. He smiled, with a wan look. You dont owe me anything, then. Its good of you to offer help; but Ive got some- thing left. My stocks have tumbled hor- ribly, buthere he figured rapidly with MRS. WINTERIIOWDS MUSICALE. 61 his pencil on the margin of a newspaper they still leave me something like thir- ty-seven hundred altogether; and perhaps theyll come up again. Its only fair, I insisted, that I should hand you enough to make us even, since Im indebted to you for all I have made. Mac tore off the pencilled margin, twisted and crumpled it, and seemed to be thinking of something else. No, Id rather not, he said, at length, decisively. But have you reflected, Endicott, that I shall now have an opportunity to solve my doubts ? Here was a man wrapped up in his passion! No, I had hardly thought of that, I said. Well, he went on, in an altered tone, but trying to appear cool, I shall release Miss Morne from her engagementsend her a note this very afternoon. He darted, as he spoke, an almost fierce glance at me, as if he held me responsible for this state of things. Possibly youre right about the mon- ey, said I, paying no attention to his manner, but youre utterly wrong about Miss Morne. Why need you give her up ? This he received with a grating laugh. Oh, you advise me not to, do you ? he inquired, incredulously. I could not doubt any longer that he had been smitten with an insane jealousy of me. I dont give you any advice, was my answer. I merely asked you a question. It seemed to me that, as you understand business, and have some capi- tal left, you could go on speculating and recover yourself. But the odd mixture of the artist, the man of fancy, in this keen-witted West- erner promptly negatived the notion. It was an excitement with me, not a trade, he declared. I cant afford it now. I ceased to urge him. Do me a favor, he requested, abrupt ly. But if we had been on the stage, I should have inferred from his aspect that his part required him to stab me the next moment. When I have freed Sophia, go and ask her to marry you.~ Mac, this is very distasteful, I re- monstrated, though it was exactly what I had been thinking of. Surprise sometimes forces a man to be a humbug. Very, he returned, sardonically. Probably it is as much so to me as to you. But I mean it. It will be a great satisfaction to me. I should never think it, to look at you, I observed, with some cruelty. Very well, then, he retorted, in a smothered tone, consider that you would be inflicting a savage wound on me, if that pleases you better. In either case you wont need much urging, I see, he added, with a sneer. Do you agree ? I agree to retain the liberty that be- longs to me, nothing more, said I, now thoroughly angry. And yet I pitied him. When I was alone I began to think he deserved a defeat. The question whether I could administer that defeat next grew to have a dangerous fascination. I fell asleep late at night, brooding over this; and when I woke in the morning I was filled with an ardent desire to test it. Mac appeared at breakfast exhausted and unnerved. I sent the note, he said, shortly, and relapsed into silence. After a while I asked him whether he had any idea what he should do in the future. He held up his long hands. Heres my living, lie said. What? Music ? He nodded. Neither of us wanted to talk. A con- straint almost like that between strangers had come between us, and it was clearly better that we should separate promptly. I therefore took care to spend the day away from him. And a very strange day it was. Finally, when evening came, and I was on my way to the old house with the white door, I knew that I had resolved to offer myself to Miss Morne. It was a point of pride with her, I sup- pose, to receive me, though she did not look in her usual spirits, by any means. Of course you know of the misfor- tune, she said at once that Mac (she had adopted that diminutive) has become a poor man Yes, and that something else has hap- pened also. Her eyelids fell. Then he told you what he meant to do I she responded, al- most in a whisper. If one can pity and admire at the same moment, that was what I did in watching the soft shadowy blush upon her cheek. She was dressed in pale brown silk, judi- ciously trimmed with white lace of a heavy pattern; three rose-buds bloomed at her 62 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. belt, and the color of the pink ones was darkly repeated by a garnet pin partly hid- den in the lace near her throat. If the costume had been expressly designed to blush in, it could not have been better. Yes, he has confided in me, I answer- ed. Are you willing, Miss Morne, to do the same ? What a very singular question ! said Miss Morne, with something of sternness in her eyes as she lifted them and glanced quickly at me. That would be a differ- ent thing altogether. And what have I to confide ? I am anxious to know what you are going to do. Going to do ? she smiled. Thats more singular than the other question even. I dont know why you should ask me these things. I hope, said I, you understand that I wouldnt ask them without very special reasons. Ah, she returned, dropping into a more easy defense, then he has sent you ? That was very wrong. No, he did not send me, I made an- swer, embarrassed. You are mysterious. And again she smiled. But the sadness I had been wont to fancy in her cheeks was really there now, and these faint smiles did not drive it away. But I will be frank, at any rate. Papa was greatly troubled at first, but I think he is rather relieved now. He appeared to think that Mr. McAloon would insist on the engagement, but now he is convinced it wont be so. What had convinced him, I asked my- self? Evidently his daughters determi- nation to receive no overtures to a new en- gagement. This, then, was in my favor. I resumed: Miss Morne, my reason for those questions Ah, I came here this evening But in the very act of uttering my pur- pose I abandoned it. I can hardly de- scribe the feeling that arrested me. There was something atrocious in taking advan- tage of Macs misfortune, something ab- horrent about having thrown the dice, as it were, for this woman, which I had been too much excited to comprehend un- til then. But it all revealed itself to me at that instant. Ah, yes, do tell me what you came for. It is so mysterious, said Miss Morne, with innocent perplexity. What I want to say, I replied, as if continuing, is that I think you may do Mac an injustice. It was a generous im- pulse, no doubt, that made him write that note, but Im sure he is regretting it at this moment passionately. If you had seen his face at the club She threw out her hand with a brief gesture of pain. I would rather not hear this, she said. Only let me say, I concluded, that he already has a plan in his head for put- ting himself in better circumstances. If you would permit me to encourage him to come and speak with you about it Oh, I know its a great liberty. Its very kind of you, she answered. I understand. The liberty I can for- give, Mr. Endicott. But I have no mes- sage forfor him. P Mortified and rather puzzled, I talked a little of other things, and then got up to go. But as I did so I ventured to say, Those rose-buds are wonderfully fine. If you could forgive two liberties in an evening, I should ask for a bud. The tea-rose ? No, the pink. She disengaged it and gave it me. If Mac has been a trifle insane, I re- flected, as I walked home, I have too ; and I was quite at a loss to understand my own conduct fully. As for Sophia, I likewise began to suspect her. How ac- count for her obdurate unwillingness to have Mac come and make amends for his note, unless she preferred to lose him along with his money? He was playing stormily on the piano as I entered, but stopped and burst into violent laughter on seeing me. Sit down 1 he cried. I have the oddest story to tell you. I have something to tell you too, I in- terposed. But he insisted on my listening first. The constraint that had cramped our in- tercourse for a day or two seemed to have vanished. Where do you suppose I have been ? he demanded. Ive been to see Mrs. Winterrowd. What of it? Well, you shall hear ; and he proceeded to relate how he had called in Commonwealth Avenue, and received Mrs. Winterrowds condolence on his fathers failure. But I hope he will soon get over it, she had said. The inconvenience is only tempora- ry, Mac had assured her. As for me, MRS. WJNTERROWDS MUSICALE. 63 it is a shock, annoying and all that, but nothing more. The patroness of music and lions ex- pressed her delight. He went on to make formal acknow- ledgment of many kindnesses during his stay in Boston. I dont know how to thank you for giving me that opportunity to play at the charity matinee, said Mac; and she took it in good faith. But, aft- er so many favors, I am emboldened to ask one more. Ah ! Mrs. Winterrowd raised her no- ble eyebrows with a very charming ex- pression. Yes, a very important one, a very se- rious one, he explained, in connection with your niece. Here the lady became pleasantly and becomingly grave. You will permit me, Mrs. Winter- rowd, to speak plainly of my admiration for Miss Matchett. She is a very lovely young lady. as to that, we shall agree admira- bly, answered Miss Matchetts aunt. The favor I have to ask may have an important influence on my future, said he. There could no longer be any doubt. Ah, Mr. McAloon, replied Mrs. Winter- rowd, I can easily understand that, and upon hers too. You do me too much honor, said the young man, humbly. But before we talk of this, she con- tinued, in a tone of most tender confi- dence, dont you think it would be well to hear more from your father? It saves so much care to have ones future clear. Ah, but thats precisely what i[ want to settle now, said he. Naturally, said the matron, throw- ing herself lightly into the mood of youth. Young people feel that there is only one question of importance to be settled, and in one sense that is true. Believe me, I fully sympathize with you, and I appre- ciate the import of this one question. It might perhaps be answered now, but my duty to Bertha, you know Your duty, madam! What has that to do with my giving Miss Matchett mu- sic lessons ? Mrs. Wiaterrowd returned his feigned astonishment with a very real equivalent. Music lessons ! she cried, in horror. You, Mr. McAloon ? Undoubtedly. I must make my liv- ing in that way now, and it would have an important influence on my success if you were to give me your patronage. I see I have completely misunder- stood you. Then that is really to be your future! Very odd; very odd. She al- ready began to scrutinize her former lion with a distant, undervaluing air. But there was a vein of Yankee sharpness un- der her superficial grandeur, and a barter- ing scheme had occurred to her. Pos- sibly I can assist you, she began, but of course you did not proposeyou had not thought of compensation? The ad- verI mean, of course, the reputation it would bring you to be giving my niece instruction would repay you for the time, I dare say. Unfortunately, answered Mac, with a touch of indolent magnificence, my prices must be rather high, and I could hardly afford to enter into such an ar- rangement. We shall have to give it up, Im afraid. Theres one city finished off, then, I exclaimed, after hearing this recital. You never can do anything in Boston now. I dont want to, either, he declared, vehemently. I have been to see Miss Morne this evening, said I, lighting a cigar. All his gloom returned in a moment. But she wont have me, I added. She has reEused you ? demanded he, bounding to his feet, and clutching the piano with one hand. I hesitated; then I said: You seem to take a special satisfaction in humiliating me. You heard what I said. Of course it was absurd to expect she would consider me. Are you content to let the thing rest as it is? Mac pulled out his watch. Confound it! its too late. What for ? To go to the Moines. Allegretto finale ! I exclaimed. Arent you rather rushing the thing? Apparently you forget that youre not en- gaged any longer. No, I dont, said my hasty friend, but I want to be. I can show Sophia that everything may still go well if she that is, that I shall make a success of some sort in music. His doubt and jealousy had passed; the transient cloud between himself and me was dissolved; but I cant say I was alto- gether pleased with this business of his re 64 HATIPEIRS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tiring in my favor for a day or two, and then fancying he could resume his ro- mance. You have offended her, I said. It may not be so easy as you imagine to put off and take on this engagement. But Heaven helps fools like me, he asserted, and frustrates wise men like you, Endicott. And Im inclined to think he was right. When he had gone to see Sophia the next day, I occupied his absence with a carefully constructed theory of the impos- sible, to wit, her becoming a music teach- ers wife. When he returned, my theory was nowhere. And is this the end, Mr. Morne la- mentingly asked me one day, for which I have spent all my life trying to keep a position in society ? But his asides to me and his plaints to his daughter were of no avail. Finding opposition useless, he tried to induce his prospective son-in-law at least to stay in Boston. I dont want to stay in a city, declared Mac, where, for all its delightfulness, I have the example of poor neglected Vir- gin before me, and where your best group thinks it a favor to have treated Sophia well, as Endicott says they have. Knowing his irritable genius, I pardon- ed him, for my part. He went off with his bride to Cincinnati, and now Mac writes me that he makes a very good income. I think Morne would like to follow too, but he cant leave his business, nor his place on the edge of society. Miss Yar- row and Jim Torringford, who had at several different times deigned to recog- nize Sophia, can not now endure even the mention of her name; and as for Mrs. Winterrowd, she reproaches me for ever having introduced Mac, who, she inti- mates, was almost an untutored savage. One question still proves extremely puz- zling to me: if I really loved Miss Morne, why did I abstain from testing my chances? But here the habit of a lifetime baffles me; I have been repressing my emotions so long, that I positively cant tell what particular one I repressed on that occasion. Miss Stanlow and I still continue to look forward to dancing the Diagonal; but the satisfaction I take in that is di- vided with the pleasure I have in my pink rose-bud. THE MEANING OF AN OPAL. SEn wiih what vivid and what varicd flame I love you, Aghn, said my love to me. Always so tenderly he breathes my name, The little name seems a caress to be. Clasped in an endless circlet of fair gold, An opalless a jewel than a fire Burned with bright hues whose symbols sweetly told Of deathless love, of truth, and pure desire. We studied this keen opal, he and I, Cheek warm on cheek, hand safe in sheltering hand: Here burned the blue of fair fidelity, There shot the gold of wisdom and command; Here vivid violet, in which red and blue Blent cunningly to tell the truth of love; And then all suddenly loves crimson hue Triumphantly all colors spread above. Next sprang to li~ht the emeralds fairy sheen, Whereat I looked to him; he, whisperingly: Of old, Hopes sacred symbol was this green; Profaned it means, loves tender jealousy. Then glowed an orange light, where red and gold Met in an orifict?m ; and softly he Spoke yet again: This union, sweet, doth hold Sign of eternal wedlock that shall be. Fire-like, this trembling and most vivid light Speaks deepest passionhear you me, my life? Yet purely above flame reigns virgin white, So dares this opal speak of you, my wife!

64 HATIPEIRS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tiring in my favor for a day or two, and then fancying he could resume his ro- mance. You have offended her, I said. It may not be so easy as you imagine to put off and take on this engagement. But Heaven helps fools like me, he asserted, and frustrates wise men like you, Endicott. And Im inclined to think he was right. When he had gone to see Sophia the next day, I occupied his absence with a carefully constructed theory of the impos- sible, to wit, her becoming a music teach- ers wife. When he returned, my theory was nowhere. And is this the end, Mr. Morne la- mentingly asked me one day, for which I have spent all my life trying to keep a position in society ? But his asides to me and his plaints to his daughter were of no avail. Finding opposition useless, he tried to induce his prospective son-in-law at least to stay in Boston. I dont want to stay in a city, declared Mac, where, for all its delightfulness, I have the example of poor neglected Vir- gin before me, and where your best group thinks it a favor to have treated Sophia well, as Endicott says they have. Knowing his irritable genius, I pardon- ed him, for my part. He went off with his bride to Cincinnati, and now Mac writes me that he makes a very good income. I think Morne would like to follow too, but he cant leave his business, nor his place on the edge of society. Miss Yar- row and Jim Torringford, who had at several different times deigned to recog- nize Sophia, can not now endure even the mention of her name; and as for Mrs. Winterrowd, she reproaches me for ever having introduced Mac, who, she inti- mates, was almost an untutored savage. One question still proves extremely puz- zling to me: if I really loved Miss Morne, why did I abstain from testing my chances? But here the habit of a lifetime baffles me; I have been repressing my emotions so long, that I positively cant tell what particular one I repressed on that occasion. Miss Stanlow and I still continue to look forward to dancing the Diagonal; but the satisfaction I take in that is di- vided with the pleasure I have in my pink rose-bud. THE MEANING OF AN OPAL. SEn wiih what vivid and what varicd flame I love you, Aghn, said my love to me. Always so tenderly he breathes my name, The little name seems a caress to be. Clasped in an endless circlet of fair gold, An opalless a jewel than a fire Burned with bright hues whose symbols sweetly told Of deathless love, of truth, and pure desire. We studied this keen opal, he and I, Cheek warm on cheek, hand safe in sheltering hand: Here burned the blue of fair fidelity, There shot the gold of wisdom and command; Here vivid violet, in which red and blue Blent cunningly to tell the truth of love; And then all suddenly loves crimson hue Triumphantly all colors spread above. Next sprang to li~ht the emeralds fairy sheen, Whereat I looked to him; he, whisperingly: Of old, Hopes sacred symbol was this green; Profaned it means, loves tender jealousy. Then glowed an orange light, where red and gold Met in an orifict?m ; and softly he Spoke yet again: This union, sweet, doth hold Sign of eternal wedlock that shall be. Fire-like, this trembling and most vivid light Speaks deepest passionhear you me, my life? Yet purely above flame reigns virgin white, So dares this opal speak of you, my wife! devotees. world. First among her treasures is the (lelicate pyxie (Pyxidanthera barbnlata), a little prostrate trailing evergreen, forming (lense tufts or masses, and among its small 4ark green and reddish leaves are thickly scattered the rose-pink buds and white blossoms. It is strictly a pine-barren plant, and its locality is confined to New Jersey and the Carolinas, yet we may travel over large sections of these States without meeting it; but when we find its haunts, it is often in such profusion that the ground is thickly carpeted with its delicate sprays. The trailing arbutus frequently blends its clusters of pink blossoms and exhales its delicious fraorance with the flowering sprays of pyxie. Nothing can be more \OL. LXV.No 385 .~ IT seems almost like a miracle that in the very heart of civilization, in one of the niost healthful regions in the Union, great tracts of fertile land still remain Natures gardens, where she nourishes the sweet wild flowers in her own mysterious way, refusing to give her secret to her most ardent Here she has planted flowers not to he met with in any other part of the

devotees. world. First among her treasures is the (lelicate pyxie (Pyxidanthera barbnlata), a little prostrate trailing evergreen, forming (lense tufts or masses, and among its small 4ark green and reddish leaves are thickly scattered the rose-pink buds and white blossoms. It is strictly a pine-barren plant, and its locality is confined to New Jersey and the Carolinas, yet we may travel over large sections of these States without meeting it; but when we find its haunts, it is often in such profusion that the ground is thickly carpeted with its delicate sprays. The trailing arbutus frequently blends its clusters of pink blossoms and exhales its delicious fraorance with the flowering sprays of pyxie. Nothing can be more \OL. LXV.No 385 .~ IT seems almost like a miracle that in the very heart of civilization, in one of the niost healthful regions in the Union, great tracts of fertile land still remain Natures gardens, where she nourishes the sweet wild flowers in her own mysterious way, refusing to give her secret to her most ardent Here she has planted flowers not to he met with in any other part of the HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. charming than Natures blending of these two lovely plants. The arbutus blossoms. from a month to six weeks earlier in the pines of New Jersey than in New England, where it takes the name of May-flower. It is not unusual to find it in the pines in full bloom by the middle of March. And by this time, or even earlier, we are sure to find the litt]e shrub Cassandra calyculata, with its one-sided racemes of closely set bell-shaped flowers. There is an entrancing influence about these early flowers That come before the swallow dares, and tint The winds of March with beauty, making the first days of early spring in the pines days never to be forgotten. And there is a subtle power in the atmosphere which stimulates the sluggish winter blood, aud sends it coursing through the veins, giving us an exquisite realization of the delights in nature. We listen to the whispering pines and catch their odorous breath, while beneath our feet the spicy aro- matic winter-green, with its dark shining leaves and clusters of scarlet berries, yields its fragrance at every step. The sweet-fern, with its plumy catkins, is redo- lent with perfume, and the wax-myrtle adds its share of grateful aroma. The wax-myrtle, with its crowded clusters of greenish- white waxy berries, takes us back to the early settlers, who, Kalm informs us, used these berries to make candles, and also an agreeable-smelling soap. And Thoreau says that in Beverleys History of Virginia, published in 1705, mention is made of the myrtle, and how tile early settlers made a hard brittle wax from the berries. Of this they make candles, which are never greasy to the touch, nor melt with lying in tile hottest weather; neither does the snuff of them ever offend the smell like that of a tallow candle, but instead of being disagreeable, if an accident puts a candle out, it yields a pleasant fragrancy to all that are in the room insomuch that nice people often put them out on purpose to have the incense of the expiring snuff. So our poet-naturalist tries to emulate tile early settlers, and turn chandler hhn- self, aud gives us his process of making tallow in the following paragraph: I have since made some tallow myself. Holding a basket beneath the bare twigs iu April, I rubbed them together between my hands, and thus gathered a quart in twenty minutes, to which were added enough to make three pints, and I might have gathered them much faster with a suitable rake and a shallow basket. They have little prominences like those of an orange, all creased in tallow, which also 1~ ~ 12-~ p IIELONIAS I3ULLATA. IN THE PINES. 67 fills the interstices down to the stone. The oily part rose to the top, making it look like a savory black broth, which smelled much like balm or other herb tea. You let it cool, then skim off the tallow from the surface, melt this again and strain it. I got about a quarter of a pound weight from my three pints, and more vet remained within the berries. What use he made of his tallow is lost to the world, and we are left to infei~ that time experiment was simply to test the truth of tbe record, which gives us another instance of his accepting nothing upon trust. How many lives have come and gone since the children of the pioneers gathered the berries to light their cabins, and what a change in the lives of their descendants! while extensive tracts of pine-barrens are to this day unchangedprecisely the same as the early settlers found them two centuries ago. But within a few years past it has been found that the pine-barrens of Southern Nexv Jersey are quite fertile, and at no distant day they are destined to become the greatest fruit gardens in the Union. And then farewell to the rare floral treasures which no art can save. Looming in the distance is a long sinuous line of dense cedars, forming a dark background to tbe more open pine-barrens, toward which I direct my steps. I peer among the thickly set trees standing like sentinels, dark and forbiddingthe place for ghouls. Darker and darker it grows as I cautiously advance, with aim oppressive dread of something which I can not define. But the spirit of adven- ture overcomes the fear, and I am wholly occupied in finding secure spots to stand poll. Ample compensation comes at last. Here, hidden among the underbrush, is time rare and local Helo- nias bullafa iii full bloom, standing thickly among the trees. The eoLnEN-cLuB (omioNTmumi AQuAncuM). 68 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. flower-stalk of this fine plant arises from a mass of large glossy evergreen leaves to the height of a foot or two, with a dense raceme of reddish-purple flowers at the summit. And here too is the golden-club (Orontium aquaticurn), with its large dark velvety leaves and elongated scape of yellow flowers standing above the water. It must not be inferred that the Helonias can he found any- where in the cedars. At this point the plant extends over two or three acres, when it wholly disappears. And now we follow the winding course of the swamp, lured on by many attractive plants near its borders, halting now and then to gather the iuterestin~ sun-dews, especially the rare thread-leaved sun- dew (Droserct fihiformis), which is just beginning to unfold its singular fly-catching leaves. On, on we go, through patches of the (lelicate little wind-flower (Anemone nemo- rosa), interspersed with the pretty trailing vines of the partridge-berry (Mitchella repens), and violets innumerable. Sweeter than the lids of Junos eves, Oi Cvthereas hreath. Some of the shrubs of the Heath family are also coming into bloom. These lovely plants seem to have inspired the ear- ly botanists with poetic fancy. W efindagenus dedicated to Cassiope, and another to her daughter Andromeda. Cassiope. however, belongs wholly to the mountains of the North, but Andromeda and Cassandra and Leucothoe skirt the cedars in profusion. The brig~mt showy piuxter-fiower (Azalea nudiflora) also helps to make up the coterie. And now, parting a thick clump of Ilex. we find the beautiful orchid Arethusa, hid away in the gloom as if guarded by this nymph of night. Still we wander on. Ten miles are passed before we come to another locality of Helonias. Again pene- trating the dense forest, we find the plant extends over several acres, and then suddenly ceases. Great clumps of the royal fern (Osmunda regalis are just beginning to unfold their large fronds. Here it at~ DROSERA FILIFORMIS. IN THE PINES. tains almost gigantic proportions, the magnificent fronds towering above our heads six to seven feet in height. The origin of Linnamss name, Osmunda, seems doubtful. Possibly he intended to dedicate it to tbe deity which presided over the mischievous spirits of the elements, (Jsmunder being the Saxon name of Thor. But what there is about this grand regal fern to have suggested the idea to ded- icate it to the god of thunder is veiled in obscurity. In the gloom and death-like stillness which surround me a mysterious awe steals over my senses, and I ani transported back through the ages, and become one with the ancients, when nymphs peopled the woods and presided over the trees, and had the power to reward or punish those who prolonged or shortened the life of the trees in which they lived. But as I emerge in the broad sun- light the fancy is dissipated, and I bow to tIme higher wisdonm of to-day, which gives only to a Supreme Being the power to rule over mortals, to reward or punish. Lest the reader should accuse me of losing my subject iii the cedars, to ps are simply the I hasten say that these oreat swam bamiks of the rivers and streams which run through the pine-bar- rens; so I have a legitimate right to wander on. The banks some- times extend a mile or two beyond the edge of the stream, and are not very picturesque nor generally attractive. But when it is asserted that there is nothing of interest connected with them, it shows how little people mana~e to see only some can . The streams themselves are not devoid of interest. Their red waters If 70 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. aic constantly underrojuino the trees, causing them to fall, when they (10 not decay, and the fallino trees are slow]y aud continuously changing the l)e(I of the streams. How far l)elow the surface they extend I do not know, but they are found to a considerable depth in an excellent state of preservation. They are of ten CxtriCate(1, an(l made into shingles and other useful thinos which are sai(l to be much more durable than when made from trees which have been cut for such purposes. If the geologist did not tell us that the structure of the State of New Jersey forbids the possibility of ever finding coal mines witbh~ its borders, we might be disposed to thh~k that we had not wholly emerged from the carboniferons era, and that ages hence coal would be found where these cedars now stand. The coal might even have the imprint of the great ferns which grow amnOno the cedars, and earths inhabitants mniglmt ponder over the impress of these strange ferns. This thouoht was suggested on seeing a log which had been extricated from beneath the i)hack nuid and left to (Iry. The rains had washed oH the surplus mud, and I 5~W a large, well-preserved fermi closely adhering to its surface. But lest I oet beyond my depth in the red waters, I will once more return to the glorious sunlight imi the open pimus. While I have been wandering amid time dark cedars and lost in speculatiomi, the pimies have comne out in May-day attirefimhi gala (Iress. Brilliant clusters of pink and white laurel (Kaimnia iat4olia) as far as the eye can reach, and graceful drooping imanicles of tim pure white blossoms of time IN THE PINES. 71 fringe-tree, add their charms to light np this enchanted garden. The heavy odor of the magnolia tells us of its close proximity. And now we come to another of Natures plants which she has restricted to these gar(lens, the stately Xerophylhon set ifolium. The flowering stem arises from a thick mass of long grass-like leaves to the height of three or four feet, and is snrmounted with a large globular head of showy white flowers. Until recently this fine plant has stood with Nnttalls name (X. asphodeloides), but in the Revision of the North American Silvacece, by Professor Watson, of Harvard, we find he has restored Michauxs name of set ifollium. Of the snialler shrubs jiow in bloom we find the sand-myrtle, with its terminal um- bel-like clusters of small pinkish flowers. And gaylussacia (named in honor of the distiuguished chemist Gay-Lussac), with its lovely racemes of open bell-shaped white and pink flowers. The pitcher-plant and golden-winged iris also add their cliaruis to this May-day attire. As summer advances we find a constant succession of beautiful shrubs and herba- ceous plants, the fragrant clethra, aud azaleas and lovely orchids too numerous to mention. But we can not bid adieu to the pines without mention of the very local lit ~ ( tle fern Sehizeva pusilla This is one of Na- tures rarest treasures, to ix hich she has given l)ut oiie lone spot on eai th in (knup grounds ami(l the pines, where it extends a mile or two, and then is seeii no more. Tbis little fern I have transportedwith ~y the greatest care to similar-looking spots. miles away and oiv- en it to the care of Na- ture, but she refuses to recognize any right to the change, and allows the poorplants to languish and die. Southern New Jer- sey has ever had an ir- resistible fascination to tbe botanist, uric- qualled by any other section in the Union. Picturesque New England, with her charming flowers, can not equal it, iior the great plains of the West. And even Floridathe land of flowersmust yield the palm to the pines of New Jersey. oiicina. THE FATI-IER OF TI-IF PUEBLOS. IJ IGH up on the western slope of the Sierra Madre, in New Mexico, nearly a mile and a half above the sea-level, and l)ut a few miles beyond the divide, where scanty waters begin their timid and un- certain way down toward the Pacific. stands ancient Zufli, the father of the pueblos. When Coronado made his fa- ~OU5 nuarch into the unknown North, the Zufiuis. or Shi-wi-nas. as they call them- selves, were the first, and also the most numerous and powerful of the pueblo j)eople encountered by him. Their towns covered a great territory, almost deserving the name of kingdomterm so lavish- ly and loosely used by Coronado and his contemporary explorers. Oppression and l)estileuce have so diminished their num- hers, and their strict exclusiveness has so nupoverished their physical condition, that the once mighty nation has now been re- duced to a handful of l)eol)le. These in- habit a single pueblo. But the coun- try around is clotted with ruined towns upon whose walls is graven the symbol of the sIP - wi - na. the sacred water- spider, whose fib-are forms the Zulu coat of arms. Here, surrounded by the forsaken homes of their kindred and ancestrycrumnbhn heaps which in antiquity rival the storied stones of the Old World the Zuflis live as their fathers lived, and jealously treasure their proud history. Zufli is still the largest of the pueblos of New Mexico and Arizona. and is looked up to by the others, which differ entirely in language, with the veneration and homage belonging to the elder member of their family, the source whence come their relioion and institutions. By tIme census of 1880, under an accurate count, the pop- ulation of Zufli numbered 1602, nearly 500 more than that of Isleta, the next puebl& in size. Therefore it is still a consider- able town. It is only a few years since the Zuflis numbered several thousand, but aim epidemic of the small-pox decimated them terribly. With the exception of the Moquis and tIme Java Supais, or Kuh-nis, in Arizona the latter an almost unknown pueblo in Cataract Creek CatIon, one of time box canons of the Colorado tIme Zuflis are the most isolated of all the pueblo tribes. They have therefore beemi little influenced by contact either with Spanish or Anolo- American civilization, and to-day live sub- stantially the life they led when Coronado first started out in searclm of the seven cities of Cibola. The river pueblos, as AROUND TIlE COUNCIL. FIRE.

THE FATI-IER OF TI-IF PUEBLOS. IJ IGH up on the western slope of the Sierra Madre, in New Mexico, nearly a mile and a half above the sea-level, and l)ut a few miles beyond the divide, where scanty waters begin their timid and un- certain way down toward the Pacific. stands ancient Zufli, the father of the pueblos. When Coronado made his fa- ~OU5 nuarch into the unknown North, the Zufiuis. or Shi-wi-nas. as they call them- selves, were the first, and also the most numerous and powerful of the pueblo j)eople encountered by him. Their towns covered a great territory, almost deserving the name of kingdomterm so lavish- ly and loosely used by Coronado and his contemporary explorers. Oppression and l)estileuce have so diminished their num- hers, and their strict exclusiveness has so nupoverished their physical condition, that the once mighty nation has now been re- duced to a handful of l)eol)le. These in- habit a single pueblo. But the coun- try around is clotted with ruined towns upon whose walls is graven the symbol of the sIP - wi - na. the sacred water- spider, whose fib-are forms the Zulu coat of arms. Here, surrounded by the forsaken homes of their kindred and ancestrycrumnbhn heaps which in antiquity rival the storied stones of the Old World the Zuflis live as their fathers lived, and jealously treasure their proud history. Zufli is still the largest of the pueblos of New Mexico and Arizona. and is looked up to by the others, which differ entirely in language, with the veneration and homage belonging to the elder member of their family, the source whence come their relioion and institutions. By tIme census of 1880, under an accurate count, the pop- ulation of Zufli numbered 1602, nearly 500 more than that of Isleta, the next puebl& in size. Therefore it is still a consider- able town. It is only a few years since the Zuflis numbered several thousand, but aim epidemic of the small-pox decimated them terribly. With the exception of the Moquis and tIme Java Supais, or Kuh-nis, in Arizona the latter an almost unknown pueblo in Cataract Creek CatIon, one of time box canons of the Colorado tIme Zuflis are the most isolated of all the pueblo tribes. They have therefore beemi little influenced by contact either with Spanish or Anolo- American civilization, and to-day live sub- stantially the life they led when Coronado first started out in searclm of the seven cities of Cibola. The river pueblos, as AROUND TIlE COUNCIL. FIRE. THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 73 they are calledthose ranging along the Rio Grande from Taos to Isletahave mo- nopolized the attention of travellers and writers, being the most convenient of ac- cess. But these, surrounded by the towns of the Mexicans on every hand, and lat- terly having come in contact with the more pushing American, who leaves his own indelible impress upon all whom he meets, they have naturally been materi- ally influenced by the alien life around them, and their manners have been con- siderably changed thereby. However good a copy may be, however faithful as a reproduction, the most of us have a strong preference for originals. So Zufli, as the oldest of the pueblo fami- lies, as the father of their Kultur, as the Germans would say, and possessing the most distinctive characteristics, is decided- ly the representative pueblo of New Mex- ico. For this reason and because it had been little touched even by the pioneer tourists who have been brought to the new Southwest by the advent of railroads, we decided to visit it. It was well that we did so, for a mind of rare scientific attain- inents had been attracted thither for sini- ilar reasons, and the company of its pos- sessor proved of much profit and pleasure to us. The building of the new Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, with its strong, smooth track designed for heavy transcontinental travel, had just brought Zufii within an easy days wagon journey of one of the worlds great highways, being about thir- ty miles southward from the military post of Fort Wingate, thus saving a fatiguing trip of many days across a forbidding country. The land inhabited by the declining na- tion living on in the twilight of its ancient gloryworn out but not despondent, and lifting its head proudly to receive what- ever fate may yet have to bestow before its life-sands run entirely outthe land also looks old and worn and weary of its prolonged battle of myriad centuries against the united elements: perhaps a foreshadowing of the time when the vital forces of all the globe shall be as spent as in this corner of it, and the great earth- ball swing its way through space as cold and dead and nakedly desolate as the life- less, airless moon. The hoary ruins of the other continent, draped with the verdure of vines, and em- bowered and crowned with arborescent beauty, impress us with the age of man- kind. But here the ruined earth itself, sprinkled with the ruined dwellings of man, tells with awful eloquence of the antiquity of both the world and its domi- nant animal. And it tells that the youth of both is so unspeakably far~ away in the past! Since the ocean rolled over the land and forsook it, and mighty rivers coursed their way across it, the forces of nature have cut far down into the earths surface, have eaten into it, hewn it away, worn it down, and skimmed it off, until now the former level only remains in gi- gantic detached tables, standing mount- ain-like thousands of feet above the arid plains of to-day. And upon the old upper plain of these mesas the ocean has left its shells, and the prehistoric rivers their bowlders and pebbles, their beds still plainly marking the surface of what is left of the structure of a continent before its geography was remodelled. As if in sublime mockery of the insig- nificance of man and his works, time has wrought these ruins of a remote geologi- cal era into curious and fantastic seni- blances of human ruins. The most won- derful and majestically beautiful of archi- tectural forms are here, carven in the rich sandstone which ranges through all the warm hues from brown to red and yellow, with gray and black for sober relief. Cas- tles, halls, temples, with grand gables, terraces, gateways, and porches, turrets and pinnacles, lofty towers and graceful spires, form vast Titanic cities. Though only the theatre of the dusk of a race of man, here well niight be the scene of the Giitterddmmerung. And here the earths ruins only are foliage-garbed and tree-crowned. Nature has kept her funeral wreaths for her own remains alone. Forests deck the roofs of this natural architecture, and their fringes drape the sides, flank the towers, adorn the buttresses, and fill the crevices of the magnificent masonry. These forests are mementos of the time when the life-giv- ing ocean winds swept free across the young continent, and wove a green gar- ment for all its surface. The same winds still touch what is left of their old haunts, and their breath has still the same magic power. But before they sink into the dry depths of the later plains their moisture is wrung away. Meanwhile the ruins of mans buildings crouch pitiably bare at the feet of the mi~hty structures, with 74 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. no leaves to cover their nakedness, as if Nature denied her consolation to man the desecrater of the forest temples she reared for his protection man, who by his sacrilege is covering the worlds fair- est fields with desolation, and hastening the day of the planets death. May there not be prophecy in the Northern myth that when Iduna with her youth-giving RANK TI. cUsHING. apples is gone, leaving the gods gray and weak in the twilight of their power, then on the last day shall come Surtur from his realm of Muspelheimthe flame-world and destroy the gods and the earth with his fiery sword? For the gods are but the powers of nature, and the last day is Sur- turs day. At Fort Wingate whose clustered buildings of light gray adobe look cheerful- ly out from a mountain-side back~round of dark green pinos across a brown plain to a panorama of this architectural sublimitywhile sitting in the officers club-room one warm afternoon, we saw a striking figure walking across the parade ground: a slender young man in a pic- turesque costume; a high - crowned and broad-brimnied felt hat above long blonde hair and prominent features; face, figure, and gene al aspect looked as if he might have stepped out of the frame of a cava- liers portrait of the time of King Charles. The costume, too, seemed at first glance to belong to the a~e of chivalry, though the materials were evidently of the f ontier. There were knee-breeches, stockings, belt, etc., all of a fashion that would not have an unfamiliar look if given out as a Euro- peai~ costume of two or three centuries ago. But it was a purely aboriginal dress, such as had been worn on that ground for ages. Answering our inquiry, the army of- ficer with whom we were talking said: That is Frank H. Cushing, a young gen- tleman conimissioned by the Smithsonian Institution to investigate the history of the pueblo Indians as it may be traced in their present life and customs. He is liv- ing at Zufli, that being the best field for his researches. It is no streak of eccen- tricity that prompts him to dress that way; no desire to make himself conspicuous. He is one of the most modest fellows I ever knew, and the attention attracted by such a costume is really painful to him. But he bears it without flinching, as brave- ly as he has borne many perils and priva- tions in the cause of science. He has an end in view, and wisely adopts the means best suited to its attainment. That is the course taken by all men successful in whatever may be their chosen pursuits. Stanley would have been a fool to wear the fur clothing of the arctic regions, or even his native starched linen, on his ex- pedition into the heart of Africa. Neither would a miller follow his trade in a suit of black broadcloth. So Cushing, to make a success of his investigations, can not stand contemplating his subjects from the outside, like a spectator at a play. He must go on to the stage, and take his own part in the performance. There are no people more distrustful of the motives of stran- gers than are the North American Indians. One can only learn anything trustworthy from them by gaining their confidence and THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 75 sympathy; so Cushing has adopted the oniy sensible course. He has become one of the Zufiis for the time being, has conform- ed to all their observances, and learned their language thoroughly. He has been made their second chief, and is a recog- nized leader among them. His reward is that the curtain of a mysteriously hidden past and present has been lifted for him. To a primitive people rank and authority are most powerfully indicated by their outward symbols. To maintain his influ- ence, Cushing must out-Zufii the Zufiis, so to speak. A man sent to them from the great father at Washington, and with means and leisure, as he seems to have, must dress according to his station. And it pleases and flatters them to see him al- ways arrayed in the full traditional cos- tume of their nationa dress such as they only wear on formal occasions. He is amply rewarded for all such conformities to their pleasure. As you are intending a trip to Zufli, gentlemen, you ought by all means to meet him. To be there with him will alone make it worth your while to have come across the continent. His companionship will give you an insight into the life of a strange people whose strangeness is passing quickly awaya life which otherwise you could hope to know only by what the uninstructed, and therefore deceiving, vision might tell you.~ We soon met Mr. Cushing, and spent a few pleasant days with him at the fort. The knowledge gained by our intercourse, which developed a warm mutual friend- ship, proved to be the finest preparation for the trip, like reading up before set- ting out on a tour to strange countries. Mr. Cushing was visiting his friend Dr. Washington Matthews, the post surgeon, and was engaged in packing some rare specimens to go to the Smithsonian Insti- tution. Dr. Matthews was in hearty sym- pathy with Mr. Cushings work, being himself an able ethnologist, who has made a reputation by his researches among the Hidatzas of the Northern plains, and is now making similar studies among the Navajos. Another energetic worker in the aboriginal field, whose duty happened to call him to Fort Wingate at the time, was Lieutenant Bourke, of General Crookes staff, detailed to make special studies of the habits of the Indians. Lieutenant Bourke was modestly depreciatory of the value of his own work in comparison with that of Mr. Cushing, whom he termed the ablest American ethnologist. But Lieu- tenant Bourkes investigations, as record- ed in his accurate and remarkably full notes, can not fail to form valuable con- tributions to ethnological science. It was an early June morning,with hot sunshine, but clear, invigorating air, when we started in a four-mule ambulance on our trip of thirty miles to Zufii. There were four of usMr. Cushing, a young lieutenant, the artist, and the writer. We were soon high up on the wooded uplands of the Zuili range, enjoying on the ascent backward views over great plains expand- ing away to the blue distance of Arizona mountains. The forest scenery of the mountain heights was in delightful con- trast to the dusty plains dry waste. The road wound through shady groves of tall and sturdy pines, their trunks marked with clean red bark; also cedars with bark in queer gray scales, like the back of an alligator. The woods stood, not with closed ranks like an Eastern forest, but open and park - like, interspersed with beautiful grassy glades: just the places for grazing deer. Time sped quickly in listening to Mr. Cushings willing replies to our multitu- dinous inquiries. If you are told that any primitive people is ignorant of its history, dont you believe it, said he. They know all about it. And he told with what wonderful accuracy traditions are handed down among the ZuiTiis, the tales, repeated thousands of times, being transmitted from father to son without the change of a single word, for genera- tion after generation. Reliance on writ- ten words seems to impair the retentive power of the memory of lettered races, and the marvellous memorizing capacity of illiterate peoples is illustrated in the handing down of the grand old Northern sagas by the Icelanders, until the acquisi- tion of the alphabet enabled them to be re- corded by that great author Snorri Stur- luson; also the transmission for genera- tions, among the same people, of the most intricate of genealogical details, involving the history of widely branched families for centuries, and covering all the lands of Scandinavia. In the same way the Zuflis have an ex- tensive unwritten literature, if the expres- sion may be permitted. They have a vast accumulation of fables and folk-lore, and the past of the nation is given in what may be termed the Zufii Bible. This sa 76 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. cred work is publicly recited at rare but regularly recurring intervals. It is in four divisions, corresponding to four books, and each of these is divided into four chapters. Its recitation occupies two long evenings. It is in perfect rhynfe and rhythm, and is highly poetic. When Mr. Cushing first came to Zufli the charge of the Bible was officially intrusted to an aged, white-haired, and blind old man, a veritable native Home?. This was the sole duty of the bard, and he was support- ed by the public. He died, and the suc- cession came to oiie of four whom he had trained up. These four are in turn con- tinually instructing youth qualified for the high trust by birth and lineage. To acquire and record this wonderful work, the Zufii Bible, would be a Homer- ic task. Mr. Cushing has several times had the privilege of listening to its recital it is very often recited informally; but to memorize it and write it down would de- mand the closest application. To get it repeated often enough for such a purpose would need the use of the nicest diplo- macy. The Bible begins with the myth- ical origin of the people, and then enters upon what is evidently ~,enuine history. This is brought down to comparatively re- cent times, but the work ends before the era of the Spanish conquest is reached. The story of the Zuflis is told from the time when their home was on the shore of the great ocean to the westward, probably in Southern California, and the various changes of abode are given during their migration to their present seat in the land of Cibola, as the country of the Zuftis, after much historical controversy, is now fully proven to be by Mr. Cushing. The sites of the seven cities of Cibola, described by Coronado and Friar Niza, have been accurately fixed by Mr. Cushing; they are in the immediate neighborhood of the present pueblo of Zufli, which was estab- lished upon its present site not long after the Spanish conquest, having been re- moved from its location near by. The accuracy of the information pos- sessed by the Zuflis concerning the ruined towns where their ancestry lived is mar- vellous. These towns were successively settled and abandoned for various causes chief among which were the pressure of hostile people, and the choking with sand of the springs upon which they depended. The history of these places, which are al- most innumerable, is mostly back in ob scure antiquity, as is certified by time~ s imprint upon the ruins. The region in which these ruins are found covers a large part of New Mexico and Arizona. Ev- ery investigation of ruins claimed by the Zulus as theirs-their locations often hav- ing been unknown until Mr. Cushing was told that the Zufiis once lived in certain places, to be distinguished by certain marks and featureshas verified their statements, their accuracy always prov- ing unerring. The language of the Zuflis is the reverse of barbarically crude, as might perhaps be expected of an aboriginal tongue. It has a finely ordered structure, and is very ex- pressive, abounding in delicate shadings, and allowing fine distinctions of mean- ing. The order of sentences resembles that of Latin and German rather than English. The Zuflis are fastidious in their require- ments for the correct use of the language, and are intolerant of ungrammatical speech; and, strange to say, they have an ancient or classical language, spoken cen- turies ago, handed down in the many sa- cred songs, and used to-day in their reli- gious observances. This dead language bears a similar relation to their speech of to-day as Anglo-Saxon to English. It is not understood by the common people, but is familiar only to the priests and lead- ing men. So here too is the Church the conservator of ancient erudition. On every hand are met startling resem- blances to the familiar civilizations of the East. The folk-lore, the recital of whose tales and fables begins after the frost comes and fills the long winter evenings at the family firesides, offers many of these par- allels. Some of their fables are, in sub- stance, almost exactly identical with fables of Ah~sop. For spells and incantations the Zufhis use short rhymed couplets, just as did our Saxon ancestors. Their religious ceremonials are strangely like those of the ancient Egyptians and Greeks. A striking analogy between the Zufli and the North- ern mytholo~y is found in the character- ization of the spirit of evil. The Zuflis have two names for the Evil One, mean- ing respectively the maliciously bad and the stupidly bad. In the same way the Northern mythology has two evil spirits Loki, the cunning demon, the spirit of in- telligent wickedness, who often dresses evil in an alluring guise, and the strong but blind Hddur, in whom the evil coming from the possession of power by ignorance THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. is typified, Hddur killing unwittingly his beautiful brother Baldur with the lance of mistletoe placed in his hand by the sly Loki. In view of these many resemblances, the query has been raised if the story of the lost Atlantis, the sunken continent, might not be something more than a myth. Might not this, the older continent, be the ancestral home of the oldest races of the Eastern world? Or do these resemblances simply show that for the mental develop- ment of man there are certain set forms, that these repeat themselves everywhere, and that the human intellect passes through regular stages of progression, of which these similarities are marks? These are questions which ethnology may be able to answer some day when it has become a more positive science. Meanwhile we had begun to ascend the southerly slope of the Zufli range, and the steepness of the way, together with its roughness, was calculated to arouse seri- ous misgivings about arriving safely at the bottom. For a new sensation, driving on the plains and among the mountains of the Southwest may be commended. A team will fearlessly plunge, with brakes firmly set, down the banks of a deep ar- royothe dry bed of a torrentand jaunt- ily storm the almost perpendicular opposite bank. In an Eastern town the existence of such a road would fill the sleep of the selectmen with fearful nightmares of suits for damages to be brought by the owners of injured vehicles. The beautiful valley of Las Nutrias (The Beavers) now lay smiling before us with fertile fields of growing crops, and ringed around by ruggedly picturesque mount- ains, sharp rocks and sombre pines con- trasting with the peaceful beauty of the scene below. Las Nutrias is one of three or four small pueblos which, since the re- duction of the tribe, have in recent years been abandoned as permanent abiding- places, but are used as summer residences, where people live while they tend their fields. The entire population is now con- centrated at Zufli. Crossing a brook whose waters irrigated the broad fields around, we halted at one of these summer villas to rest for lunch. Its structure was rather different from the regular dwellings we afterward became familiar with. Like them, its walls were solidly built of adobe and stone, but in front was a sort of veranda, and a wide space had been cut away in the wall of the principal room, a large apartment, which was thus made into a sort of airy, open hall. The noonday was hot outside, but within there was an agreeable cool- ness, the light, dry air of these altitudes not retaining the heat away from the sun- shine. An old man and a white-haired wife welcomed us cordially, and chatted vivaciously with Kuishy, as they called our friend, while a chubby brown boy of four or five ye~s. with pretty face and black mischievous eyes, romped around us. To the lunch we had brought along, the old woman added by setting before us a basket of parched corn, which proved something like our parched sweet corn. They always slightly parch their corn be- fore grinding it into meal, spreading it out in the dome-shaped ovens which stand outside their doors, and often on their roofs, forming, as in the Orient, promi- nent architectural features of their dwell- ings. Lunch over, we set out again, but a sick mule made our progress tediously slow. Under the circumstances, finding that it would be impossible to reach Zufli that night, we turned toward Pescado, another of the summer suburbs, named for a fine large spring near by, full of little fish. This spring gushes out beautifully from beneath a great lava rock, giving fertility to a large district. Though eating many strange things, as we soon had opportuni- ty to see, the Zuflis, together with other Southwestern Indians, have their own ideas of fastidiousness; and one thing which neither they nor the Navajos will touch is fish, showing the most intense disgust at the idea of eating it. There- fore the finny inhabitants which ~give their name to the Pescado spring remain undiminished in number. The Governor of Zuiji, whom we had already met at the fort a few days before, was at Pescado attending to his farm. He was at work in a field near the road as we approached, and came to meet us. A joy- ful gleam illuminated his dusky face as he recognized his young brother, and as he walked along beside our slowly moving team he humorously responded to Kuishys playful queries. A member of the most powerful family of Zufli, Pe- tricio Pino is a maim of middle age, with a thoughtful, reflective fac~, and a profile that is almost classically Greek. We reached Pescado none too soon, for the 78 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. moment we stopped, our sick mule fell to dish. There were, of course, no knives the ground, and in a few minutes was and forks, and the meat was taken out dead. with the ~flngers. We learned that we The cloudless sunset was speedily fol- had quite won the hearts of our hosts by lowed by calm moonlight, and the night j doing in Rome as the Romans did; for air had begun to have a touch of chilli- ness in it when we were summoned in to supperclimbing up a ladder, and enter- ing through the roof of a house that pro- bably antedated the Spanish conquest, for Pescado is much older than the present Zufli. A large L-shaped room, with a low ceiling, and dingy walls hung with blankets and weapons, was lit by the flick- ering flame in a corner fire-place, where a large kettle was steaming and sending out an odor of stewing meat grateful to the nostrils of hungry men. Two large bowls of the smoking stew were dished out; one was set before us, and we drew around it, sitting on sheep-skins and blank- ets spread over the earthen floor, while the dusky members of the household formed a circle around the other, close by. The dish was really excellent, a kind of thick mutton broth, with whole grains of wheat to give it body, and agreeably fla- vored with a kind of herb highly prized by the Zuflis. Rolls of the peculiar pa- per bread were given to us. In eating it,it is the custom to dip the end of the roll into the broth. The liquid part was eaten with a sort of spoon made of pot- terya spoon without a handle, but at the upper end of the bowl, where the handle should be, it was curved over backward so that it could be hung on the edge of the they had been accustomed to see white visitors manifest much squeamishness about their food, and not unfrequently gingerly refuse to touch it at all. As an entr~e, a dish of roasted locusts was handed around. The writer did not venture to try them, but his companions did. They are said to be as delicate and delicious as shrimps, with a similar fla- vor. Mr. Cushing coufessed that, although he made it a rule to eat everything that the Zuflis did he never could get over a certain repugnance to the idea of eating these locusts. But as lobsters, crabs, and shrimps are insects as well as locusts, there seems to be no logical reason why the latter should not be as edible as the others. To catch them, the holes where the locust larva~ lie are watched in the early morning. Just as the first rays of the sun strike the ground, they all appear simultaneously, as if at a signal call. The ground is suddenly covered with them, and they are captured by thou- sands, and taken home in baskets and bowls. They are put to soak in cold wa- ter, and left to stand overnight. This fattens them, and in the morning they are roasted in a dish over the fire, the mass beinb continually stirred until of a nice uniform brown. After supper we lay back upon the sheep- PORTAL AND PLUME OF THE GODDESS OF SALT. THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 79 skins, quietly enjoying the novel scene about us. Sticks of pub wood had been placed on end in the corner of the fire- place, and their bright crackling flame sent a ruddy light through the large room, touching up the nearer side of all objects in sharp relief against the intensity of the shadows. Gay-colored clothing and blankets, hung on poles suspended from the ceiling, caught the dancing light; cu- rious pottery was ranged along the floor by the walls; and here and there in the walls were little niches, just as we had seen them in the walls of ruined cliff dwell- ings. In these little niches were conven- iently arranged little articles of domestic use, which had a delightfully bric-a-brac suggestiveness. The scene was just the same now as it had been within those walls hundreds of years before. We were away back in the centuries, and living the life of the remote past. We started late the next morning. In the distance, here and there among the mountains, thin blue smoke curled up in. the calm air. It came from fires which the Zufuis had made to burn over the ground for planting their peach orchards in favorably situated callous, where the trees would be sheltered from the blasting winds. In these places the Zufiis raise an abundance of peaches of a delicious quality. We passed along the base of a mesa whose steep sandstone sides were fantas- tically worn. In one projecting angle there was a large opening in the rock, through which the sky on the other side could plainly be seen. The Goddess of Salt, say the Zulus in one of their myths, was so troubled by the people who lived around her home on the shores of the great ocean that she forsook them, and came to live in this region, where she wedded the God of Turquoise. They lived happily to- gether for a lon, time; but at last the peo- ple here also became troublesome to her, and she left them, and disappeared in this mountain, making this hole by her en- trance. But in passing through, one of her plumes was brushed off, and it re- mains to this day in the shape of the high monument of stone standing in the plain close by. The resting-places of the god- dess are marked by the salt lakes, includ- ing the large one to the south of Zulu- land, from which the Zulis gather their salt. In recognition of the ownership of the ZuiTiis in this lake, other Indian tribes who get salt there have always paid them toll for the privilege, and the lake has thus been a considerable source of revenue for them. The favor of the goddess for the Zufiis was markedly shown in this bequest. The footsteps of the God of Turquoise are marked by the turquoise deposits in the mountains. We reached Zufii at noon. The pueblo lies near the foot of the majestic mesa of Th-ai-ia-lo-nethe sacred thunder mount- ain. Close to the town flows the Zuli River. Whoever knows the stream will smile broadly at the ipstructions given a government exploring expedition sent out soon after the annexation of New Mexico. The commander was charged expressly to examine the Colorado, Chiquito, and the Zuli rivers, with particular reference to their value for steamboat navigation. The stream is generally so shallow that in most places its waters would hardly reach above the ankles, and for considerable stretches in its course it loses itself in the sand altogether. But in the wet season the river often becomes a powerful tor- rent; it was for this reason that the pue- blo, which once stood on the left bank, where it was subject to inundations, was, not long after the conquest, removed to its present site on the right bank, which is somewhat bluff-like at this place. The knoll upon which Zuli stands seems high- er than it really is, owing to the way in which the houses are terraced above each other, giving the place a commanding ap- pearance as it is approached. The pre- vailing tone of the pueblo and the sur- rounding landscape is red. Such is the hue of grand old Th-ai-iii-lo-nes face; the pue)Ao is built chiefly of red sandstone largely excavated from the ruins of the elder Zuli across the river, the thin slabs about the thickness of ancient Roman bricks, being laid in red adobe mortar from the tawny soil; and the wide stretching plain around is red, and worn bare of all vegetation by the thousands of sheep own- ed in Zuli, and kept in the corrals, made of scrawny upright sticks, surrounding the place like a girdle of thorns. Mr. Cusbings room at the house of the Governor was a picturesque niinghing of culture and barbarism. A writing-table, a case of book-shelves with the books ne- cessary to his studies, and the volumes of valuable notes that recorded his investiga- tions, a stool, a student-lamp, and a ham- mock, completed the inventory of the civ- ilized furnishings. But there was the {sU HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. wonderful addition of a telephone which Mr. Cushing and his brother, who was visiting him, constructed out of a couple of old tin cans and several hundred yards of twine, to prove to the Zuflis the truth of what he had told them about the tri- umphs of American invention. The tele- phone was connected with the house of one of the caciques on the opposite side of the pueblo, about a quarter of a mile away. The Zuflis found it the most mar- vellous thing they had ever seen, and an old fogy among them, who had scoffed at it as beyond reason, on satisfying himself of its reality, stood beside it all day when it was first tested, watching its operation with intense interest. The hard earthen floor of the room was covered with Navajo and Pueblo blankets, their bright hues making them admirable for rugsa pur- pose for which they are used with artistic effect in the quarters of the officers at va- rious military posts in New Mexico. The walls were also hung with some choice examples of the blankets, giving a novel tapestry effect. With the photographs of some home friends adorning the wall, the room had a charmingly bright and cozy look. Against the outside wall of the house were built large cages for the eagles, which are kept for the sake of their highly valued plumes. Eagle-farming is carried on among the Zuflis to a considerable ex- tent. The majestic birds had lately been plucked, giving them a comically disrep- utable look, by no means in concert with the piercing, fearless gaze of their bright eyes. They were by no means tame, and even the tormenting spirit of the Zufli children could not tempt those imps of mischief to transgress the bounds of a re- spectful distance from the cages. A blow from those powerful beaks would leave a mark never to be for~,,otten. Time dignity of these eagles was unruffledsomething TA-AL-JA-LO-NE, OR THUNDER MOUNTAIN. THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 81 that could hardly be said of their plumage just thenand a slight turn of the head was all the notice their majesties conde- scended to take of by-standers. The Zufii children sported around the streets in cherubic nakedness. They were as rompingly mischievous as any children can be, and their delight in torment seem- ed abnormally developed, perhaps because their elders saw nothing out of the way in it. Most likely the savage love of tor- ture in warfare may be ascribed to this. The poor dogs fared hard at the childrens hands. Not unfrequently during our vis- it a succession of piercing yelps would be heard, while a poor cur disappeared rapidly around the corner, fleeing from a terror- izing piece of ancient pottery tied to his ruined tail, while a crowd of urchins yell- ing with delight followed at his heels. And the unhappy hogs straggling around in the outskirts, which nobody seemed to feel a proprietary interest inno wonder that they were gaunt and razor-backed and never grew fat! no wonder that the Zulus had no appreciation of the delicacy of pork! The wretched grunters were chased and hectored by the children from morn to night, until they became too ex- hausted to resist, and would submit list- lessly to the wills of their tormentors. With such sharp, bristle-covered backs as characterized these swine, it was a marvel how the naked brats could take such plea- sure in riding them. It was a prettier sight to see the chubby brown bodies of the children as they lay by the dozen dabbling in the tepid wa- ters of the river all through the hot hours, soaking in the pools, or scampering along the alkali-incrusted banks, noisily splash- ing each other. One thing to be said to their credit is that in their disagreements they never came to blows. The admira- ble Indian trait of considering it beneath the dignity of a human being to strike an- other seems to be inherent. The children are tenderly loved by their parents, and their training is carefully looked after. They have the universal child - love of toys, and the little girls cherish maternal- ly rude woollen dolls. A favorite toy for the babies is a little stuffed kid. Outside the line of the corrals for the ponies, sheep, and goats were the queer little gardens of the women. They were divided into small rectangular lots, sepa- rated by stake fences, and often by sub- stantial walls of adobe, with narrow al- VOL. Lxv.No. 3856 leyways running between. These little gardens looked for all the world like col- lections of gigantic waffles, being divided into rectangular beds, each bed cut up by intersecting ridges of earth. The little spaces thus formed appeared to be of al- most mathematical exactness in size, and were planted with onions and herbs. These little squares were thus ridged about to hold the water with which the ground was kept moist, each square re- ceiving the contents of a large water jar. The gardens were carefully tended by the women, and looked wonderfully neat. All around on the plain were the corn fields, where crops were raised without irriga- tion, a remarkable thing for such a dry climate. The corn was planted very deep in holes punched with a sharp stick, and was very low in growth, the ears branch- ing out from the stalk close to the ground. Maize had been raised in this way for ages. There are no irrigating ditches about Zufii itself, but at Pescado, Las Nutrias, and Ojo Caliente the crops are elaborately irri- gated. The labor in the fields is done by the men, who in all the pueblo tribes do not consider, as the savage Indians do, manual labor as something fit only for squaws. The street scenes of Zufii seem thorough- ly Oriental. Narrow winding ways and irregular-shaped plazas, all of which have characteristic names, give the town a quaint picturesqueness. In places the ter- raced buildings tower to a height worthy of metropolitan structures. Low passage- ways carry the thoroughfare under the buildings here and there, giving artistic contrasts of light and shade, while the oddly costumed figures in the streets make a striking picture. The monotony of blank walls is here and there broken by the rude but massive stairways leading to second stories, rows of round projecting roof beams, and the gaunt ladders leaning against the buildings everywhere, each stretching two thin arms skyward. All the inhabitants have a sailor-like agility in the use of the ladders. The women go up and down with water jars on their heads without touching a hand to support or steady themselves; little children, hard- ly out of babyhood, scramble fearlessly up and down; even the dogs have a squirrel- like nimbleness, trotting in a matter-of- course way down the rounds of a steep ladder. If there were any more trees in Zufii than the solitary cottonwood stand- 82 IIARPEiRS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ing in the yard before the ruined Francis- can chapel, it would hardly be surprising to see the dogs climbing them like cats! All through the day there is an unceas- ing carrying of water, the women passing and repassing through the streets on the way to and from the springs with the large ollas, or water jars, so nicely bal- anced on their heads as not to spill a drop, and walking with a fine, erect poise. But toward sunset is the time to visit the great spring on the hill-side just outside the city. It is a Scripture-like scene. De- scending by a path between steep banks of clay, we come upon a large pool in an excavated cavern, a round chamber in the hill-side, and entered by a great arch- like opening. Here in the cool shadow crowds of girls come and go, dipping up the water, and pausing to gossip as they meet in the path or beside the well. Their soft voices fill the air like the chatter of swallows, and their white teeth gleam as they laugh. As they come down the sloping path the slanting sunlight touch- es up the bits of bright color that adorn their dark costumes, and their figures are bathed in a mellow glow, while those fur- ther down between the high banks are dusky in the gathering shadows. Wandering through the place, we en- ter, according to the custom of the na- tives, any of the open doorways at plea- sure, stroll quietly about the house, ex- amine the pottery, blankets, and other household goods, the family meanwhile looking on with courteous curiosity. I-mu (be seated), they say; and if they are at their meals, one is welcome to join them, even though it chance to be their last crust. The woman of the house is perhaps at work baking paper bread. She takes a fresh sheet just off the fire, and making a roll of it, hands it to us. In her work she sits by the fire-place with a dish of the pasty corn-meal dough beside her made rather thin. She has no super- fluous raiment, for the fire is hot. With a quick motion she takes a handful and skillfully spreads it over a large smooth stone slab, underneath which the fire is burning. It is baked almost immediate- ly, being spread so thin. As soon as done, the sheets are laid above each other, until they form a considerable pile. They are in various colors, yellow, blue, green, or red, according to the color of the corn, which is carefully sorted, when shelled, with a view to this effect. In their way the Zuflis are paragons of politeness, and the most polished nation of Europe could hardly excel them in gen- uine courtesy. One of them after shak- ing handsthey are great for hand-shak- ingmay be seen to lift his hand to his lips and reverently breathe upon it, an action designed to breathe into himself whatever superior influence from the oth- er person may have been received by the friendly contact. Here is a dialogue be- tween two Zuflis about to smoke. Says one: Why do you not light your cigarette ? Are you older than I ? asks the other. Yes. Then light yours first, for whoever goes before his elder brother will surely stumble. The Zufii houses have large rooms and real doors, contrasting agreeably with the close little cells of many of the pueblos in the region near Santa Fe, which are en- tered only through the roof. It is not un- common to see a large room with three or four fire-places, each of a different pat- tern, one designed for roasting meat, an- other for baking bread, another for boil- ing, etc. These fire-places have a quaint mediieval look. They are generally built in the corner, with a large square hood flaring out over them from the chimney. A double fire-place may be built against the centre of a long side wall, and an im- mense broad fire-place often takes up the entire end of a room. A style consisting of a little arch in the corner is like those of Mexican houses; the other varieties are native, and are found in the oldest ruins. The houses are owned by the women. The Zuflis are strictly monogamous, while savage Indian tribes are polygamous. This contrast between two branches of the same race, one living a settled and the other a roving life, shows that monogamy is an essential condition of the former, and is an effective argument against one of the cardinal doctrines of Mormonism. The Zufii women are by no means the slaves of the men. They have their rights, and maintain them. When a man mar- ries, he goes to live with his wife, and if dissatisfied with him, she has the right to send him away. Therefore a husband is pretty careful to keep in his wifes good graces. As one of the great annual dances was to come off, we waited a week for the sake of seeing it. Its regular time was at the THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 83 full moon in May, but the two boys whose duty it was to repeat certain long prayers belonging to the ceremonials in the estufa had died, and novices had to be trained up in their places. Since the two prayers had to be committed word for word as they had been said for centuries, it was a long task, and the dance had to be post- poned to the full moon of June. Meanwhile the time passed quickly for us. During the day a mild hum of indus- try pervaded the place. The Zuflis take life easily, and never overwork, therefore they find no necessity for a periodic day of rest, but they are not lazy. Their wants are simple, and their work is ample to sat- isfy them. One of the most interesting things was to see them weave their fabrics on their hand-looms, producing beautiful designs by the nice calculation of the eye, but with no regular measurement. Our principal excitements during the week were the searching out of attractive blank- ets, either Navajo or Pueblo, and the open- lug of kilus of new pottery. Each family makes all its own pottery, as a usual thing, and every day kilns were burning all over the place. The news that a finely deco- rated olict had been seen going into a kiln in a certain street was enough to set us ago~, watching to see it come out freshly burned. One household had a special reputation for making fine ollas, another for small ware, another for figures of ani- mals, and one woman was famed for mak ing very nice turtles. The vessels to be burned were arranged carefully on the ground, and a circular, dome-shaped struc- ture of dried sheeps dung built up around and over them. This fuel is preserved carefully in bard-pressed, fiat blocks, and is kept corded up for use. It gives an in- tense heat, and a kiln is baked in two or three hours. Arch~ologists have been puzzled by the occasional discovery of fragments of hard pottery with glazed decorative lines, and theories have been formed that among the ancient Pueblos the art of glazing their pottery was known. But Mr. Cushing has discovered that this glazing is accidental, occurring only in the broken pieces of old pottery used to cover the articles in the kiln and protect them from the falling of the structure when it has mostly burned away. These fragments are made harder by the second firing, which also glazes cer- tain mineral pigments used in their deco- ration. Another interesting industry was the grinding of meal or flour. A row of girls, sometimes half a dozen or so, is often seen at work. They all kneel beside and over a series of bins, each of which has a bot- tom of smooth stone hollowed in a semi- circular shape. Each girl holds a bar of stone in her hands, and grinds the corn by rubbing it up and down with a motion much like that of a washer-woman at a scrubbing-board. The meal, ground coarse MAKING rOTTERY. 84 HKRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. in one bin, is passed on to the next, where the stone bar is of a finer texture, and so on to the end, when it is often ground as fine as flour. The jet-black hair of the girls, cut off about half-way down their face, forms a short thick veil, which is tossed up and down by the violent mo- tion, their eyes showing brightly through as they regard the strangers. The artists work was a source of won- der to the Zufiis, and they looked upon his spirited portrayals with intense interest. They were, until recently, extremely su- perstitious about portraits, and nothin~ would induce any of them to allow their pictures to be made. They believed that something of their actual personality went with their likeness, and that whoever pos- sessed it would also possess a certain con- trol over themselvesa control which might bring evil upon them. But Mr. Cushing, who has a talent for sketching which has been of great service to him in his notes, banished this superstition. It nearly cost him his life one time. But they saw that no evil came of it, and so they outgrew thei~ objections. There eems to be no Chinese conservatism about them, but when they see the light, they readily accept it. In Mr. Cushings earlier days in Zufii his sketching caused a secret resolve to be made to kill him for practices that might bring disaster to them all. It was to be done at a great dance that was soon to come off. He sat upon a neighboring house-top with sketch-book in hand, when two hideous figures among the dancers, painted a diabolical black, came to the foot of the adjacent ladder and pounded upon it with their war-clubs, shouting out something which caused the multitude to look toward him. He thought it a jocular part of the perform- ance, and smiled good-naturedly. But he understood enough of the lan~,uage at the time to distinguish the cries among the crowd: Kill him ! kill him ! It was part of the performance to kill a sym- bolical Navajo, the Navajos being the an- cient enemies of the Zufiis. Mr. Cushing had no idea that he was cast for the part of that Navajo, and did not comprehend the real gravity of the situation until he heard the women echo the cries, Yes, kill him! kill him 1 The people rose up and looked his way. The assemblage was silent with expectation. He glanced behind; there was a wall of dark figures frowning down upon him, half muffled in their blankets, and standing as immovable as statues. The twin fiends below made ready to come up the ladder. Mr. Cushing now saw that his life was really threatened. A thousand against one! Attempt at escape was hopeless. He thought his last mo- ment had come, and in his heart was ter- ribly frightened. But to give way to fear was useless, and something told him to face the danger coolly. So he leisurely laid down his sketch-book, placed a stone upon the leaves to keep them from blow- ing in the wind, produced a new hunting- knife which he had just brought back with him from Fort Wingate, where he had been on a tripnobody knew he had itand flourished it, at the same time breaking out into a loud, defiant laugh. The evident coolness of the act, his bold- ness in facing them, took his assailants aback; they paused, and uttered a word meaning, a spiritual friend, that is, a friend possessing supernatural character- istics, making him more than a common earthly friend qualities which woul bring good to them as a people. A spiritual friendwe must not kill a spiritual friend ! cried the two; but we must kill a Navajo I they shouted. So out of the court they rushed in search of a Navajo. A few minutes, and a fearful yelping was heard. In they rushed, drag- ging a Navajo, in the shape of a great yellow cur half paralyzed with fright. They stunned him with their clubs; before he was dead they had him disemboweled, and in their frenzy were ravenously eating the smoking vitals. Mr. Cushing looked on in gratitude that he was not just then in the place of that dog, playing the part of a Navajo. But the event turned out to be the most fortunate thing for him; it fixed him in the affections of the whole tribe, and from that day was to be dated his great influence in Zufli. The superstition about portraits now lingered only among some of the old wo- menthose conservators of the ancient order of things with all people. At Pes- cado the artist had made a sketch of a pretty little girl. At Zufli Mr. Cushing showed it to the childs grandmother, a white-haired old crone, who looked at it intently for a moment, then left the room, sobbing wildly, saying, My poor little Lupolita! how could you be so cruel as to let such an evil come upon her 1 One day the artist painted the portrait of Mr. Cushings father by adoption, Lai S THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 85 ni-ai-tsai-lun-kiii, the high-priest, or medi- cine cacique, one of the seven great chiefs of the Zufli. He was the personification of gentleness, and looked the mystic that he was by virtue of his high office: the Zuflis are spiritists, and their religion is in many striking phases identical with modern spir- itism. In his face, which in its strongly individual lines resembled Dantes, there was an indescribably kindly and lovable contemplative expressiona spiritual look like one who walked the earth with thoughts in another sphere. His affec- tion for Kuishy, his adopted son, was touchingly tender. One day when the lieutenant was admiring a handsome sil- ver belt of native manufacture belonging to him, the old cacique said to Mr. Gushing, Remember, my son, that whatever I have is also yours, to do with as you please. And one night in the council, when Mr. Gushing was talking rather excitedly on a matter that caused him some vexation, the old man got up and walked away quietly. Where are you going, mimy father ? Mr. Gushing asked. It grieves me to see my son show his anger, said the old man, gently. While the artist was painting his por- trait, he sat motionless for something like three hours. In this respect the Indians are ideal models. Old Pedro Pino, the Governors father, who for many years was himself Governor, sat and watched the work of painting with the keenest interest, announcing his intention not to go away until the thing was finished. Old Pedro was gray and wrinkled, and must have been over eighty years of age. He was in his prime when the Americans took possession of New Mexico, and was Gov- ernor of Zufii at the time. He was full of reminiscences of those days, and was nev- er tired of telling the lieutenant about the A ZUNI CHIEF. 86 HAlIPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. officers he knew, especially about Major still were looking dowfi upon their chil- Kendrick, who, old Pedro was delighted to dren from the walls. hear, was one of the lieutenants instruct- The Zuflis delight in a council. These ors at West Point. Old Pedro had much councils are frequently held, there being of the garrulity of age, but his talk plainly no specified intervals of time for their ses- showed the native eloquence which mark- sions. They are called whenever occasion ed the days of his power, when he used it arises, and all affairs of the nation are dis- with the skill of a trained diplomate, keep- cussed and regulated by them. They are ing his nation absolute followers of his legislatures and courts in one, and furnish will. When the portrait was completed, an extremely interesting picture of parlia- he talked long and earnestly to the yen- nientarism in its primitive form. When erable cacique. He told him: Though a council is deemed necessary, the Govern- your body perish, nevertheless you shall or orders his herald to summon it. At continue to live on upon the earth. Your sunset, when the air is quiet, the herald face will not be forgotten now; though stands upon the highest house-top in Zufli your hair turn gray, it will never turn a statuesque figure against the clear sky gray here. I know tbis to be so, for I and utters the call in a loud, nieasured, have seen, in the quarters of the officers and resonant voice. The women all hear at the fort, the faces of their fathers, who it, and the tidings quickly spread, so that have long since passed from the earth, but in the evening there is sure to be a good THE HERALD. THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 87 attendance. The herald answers for the ai-tsai-lun-kiii said, Though it is our newspaper in Zufli, for all proclamations place to elect your Governor, it is not for and items of news deemed of general im- us to say anything that may influence his portance are announced in this way. judgment. Would that all public men After dusk on the evening of the coun- had as nice an idea of the proprieties of cil d rk figures with blankets wrapped politics! It is not the voice of the people about themfor the evening air is always coolenter the Governors house silently as shadows. A grave salutation and a grasp of the hand, and they seat themselves in the large room used for the coun- cils. One evening about a hundred of the leading men were thus assembled, sitting on a sort of bench running along the side of the room or s uatting on their haunches in a circle. On the floor in the midst of the circle, the Governor had strewn a lot of corn husks, and a bag of fine- cut being set out, cigarettes were rolled, and a constant smoking was kept up. The air would have been thick enough had not the large fire- places given such excellent ventilation. The women and the young men gathered re- spectfully around the doors and windows and listened. As the evening wore on, the room grew warm, and the men gradually shed their gar- ments, until about half the assemblage sat with naked bodies of a ruddy bronze hue. As it grew late, some arose and glided silently out of the room. But it was an impor- tant matter they were talking about, and the most of them staid until it was settled at a small hour of the morning. The subject was discussed ear- nestly and gravely, no emo- tion being shown either in the face or in the manner of speaking, although some would occasion- that chooses the Governor of Zufli, but the ally betray their excitement in a trem- caciques. bling voice. It w~s a will case under The pueblo Indians have been repeated- discussion and the Governor sat motion- ly characterized as fire-worshippers. But less and speechless, being the judge from with the Zulus, at least according to Mr. whose decision there could be no appeal. Cushing, the principal object of their wor- Early in the evening the two caciques ship is water, just as was stated by Co- who were present arose to go. In re- ronado. And well may they worship it, spouse to Mr. Cushings question, Lai-ui- living as they do in the midst of a sun- CHIEF ON HORSEBACK. 88 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. parched land, their life dependent upon the life-reviving element so scantily be- stowed! The writer will never forget how one day, as he was standing in the door of the Governors house, the clear sky became overcast with black clouds. The Indians standing around cast anxious glances at the heavens; with the first drops of rain they all said, with an expression of un- speakable reverence and gratitude, E-la qua! c-la qua ! which are their words for thanks. One day there was a great excitement over a race between two fast ponies. A large crowd was collected, and betting was going on at a lively rate. All sorts of things were staked on the contestcloth, skins, dresses, blankets, jewelry, harness- es, etc. These things were deposited in great heaps on the ground, and then, aft- er all the bets had been arranged, every- body went down on to the plain to see the start. The riders were two lithe, light youths, entirely nude, and with long black tresses flying in the wind. It was a spir- ited, graceful sight as they dashed away at full gallop on their tough little steeds. They were soon out of sight in the dis- tance. It was some time before they came to view again, for the course was a long one of about six miles. At last they ap- peared, two black dots, and coming near- er they were seen to be still neck and neck. The race was close, and there was but little distance between the two horses as they dashed past reeking with sweat. The crowd was intensely excited, and greeted the finish with a tumult of shrill yells. An old fellow, fat and good-na- tured - looking, who had taken an excep- tional interest in the race, perhaps be- cause of large stakes, cantered down to meet the contestants as they came in. But while away it seems that his mare threw him, for she came tearing back riderless and with saddle hanging loose, kicking it off as she neared the crowd. Some time after the old man came run- ning back afoot, and as he came to a stop he said, emphatically, Goddam !an ex- pression which constitutes about all the English known in Zufli. And as they do not know the meaning of that, its use can hardly be said to be sinful. It was the day before the great dance. Everybody was getting ready for the hol- iday. All were to appear in their best clothing and with flowing hair, released from the little queues in which it is usu ally confined. Late in the afternoon we saw a young nian sitting on a house-top with beaming face, while a brown beauty was carefully combing his hair as she stood behind. So the young man was a newly accepted lover! When a youthful Zufli falls in love with a girl, he hints that it would be a real nice thing to have his hair combed. If she takes the hint and proceeds to comb it, it is a token that he has won her favor. The youth of Zufli are just as sentimental, just as spooney in their love affairs, as fond of moonlight rambles and whispered nothings, as any lovers well can be. As dusk deepened into night and the full moon rose over the roof-tops of Zufli, there was a strangely beautiful sight. The narrow river meandered in a bright silver thread over the mysterious indefinite ex- panse of the plain. The stars glinted brightly in the intense blue of the mar- vellously clear sky, and looked down upon a new constellation. Fires gleamed on every house-top, lighting up great wall spaces with ruddy reflections, and sending tall shadows flitting round every- where from the watching groups. The whole town was dotted with the fires, and it looked as if a mild conflagration were in progress, feeding scantily upon such unpromising material as stone and adobe. These fires were kindled for the baking of the h& pcr-lo-lci, or sacred festival bread, baked on the evening of every festival by the young maidens of the pueblo. Ev- erywhere there was a contrast of strong light and deep shadow, the effect modified and softened by the floods of white moon- light. The groups of silent figures stand- ing and sitting around formed composi- tions ready for an artist, and they were touched with Rembrandt lights. H& per-lo-ki looks, and is said to taste, like Boston brown-bread. It is made by a rather peculiar process. The corn meal of which it is composed is chewed up by the young girls. The object of this is to sweeten it, for the acid of the saliva, unit- ing with the starch of the corn, forms sugar. Some of the Zuflis, including the Governors family, who can afford to buy sugar, make their h& per-lo-ki in the way less economical, but more acceptable to civilized palates. The morning of the festival dawned, and we were out early to see everything that was going on. All the town was in holiday dress. Everybody had his hair THE FATHER OF THE PUEBLOS. 89 nicely combed, after washing it with amo- ii the root of the yucca, or soap-plant, which makes the finest shampoo in the world, leaving the hair soft and glossy. The fes- tivities were ushered in by the appearance of the Mudheads, nude men painted a uni- form mud-color from head to foot, and dis- guised with droily hideous masks of the same hue, while several great knobs, like enormous wens, adorned a smooth head with a snouted countenance. The effect was irresistibly mirth-provoking; the char- acters looked like pantomime clowns just coming under the spell of Circe. The Mudheads ran through the streets, cutting queer antics, while they shot arrows into a bunch of feathers which they kept con- tinually throwing on to the ground ahead of them. Then, after a while, the dancers made their first appearance, standing in a line in the street, and dancing and singing much as we had seen at Pescado. But now they were all arrayed in full cos- tumes, and every performer was masked. After dancing solemnly for some time, they broke ranks and went back to the estufa, where the time was passed in their mystic solemnities until they appeared in another part of the town and continued their dance. Thus it went on through the morning, until the dancers had made the round of all the principal places of the town. At noon there appeared on the streets some frightful figures, hideous in the extreme and made diabolical in aspect by the buf- falo horns which they wore on their heads. They ran along armed with great bunches of reeds, and everybody scattered at their approach, for they were privileged to strike any person they met, and could inflict a blow not to be despised. There were shrieks of lau~hter as the crowds dispersed, running up ladders and scrambling over the house-tops. Whoever could get in- doors was safe, for the horned creatures could not pursue them beyond a threshold. Courtesy toward the men-from-where- the-sun-rises would not have permitted them to molest us, had they overtaken us but to please the people we joined in the fun, and pretended great fright, clamber- ing~ ladders and fleeing until we were BAKING HE-PER-LO-KI ON THE HOUSE-TOPS. 90 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. breathless. The spectators were convulsed with mirth at our apparent dismay. The Zufiis have one annual dance ex- pressly to frighten the children and keep them in good behavior the rest of the year. Characters even more horrible in appear- ance than those with the buffalo horns are the chief actors. They represent fearful goblins who come to devour and carry off the children. They make the round of all the houses in town, and at their ap- proach the parents conceal their little ones, pretending to fight the demons off and defeiid their offspring desperately. This makes a lasting impression on the children, and the mention of these crea- tures has thenceforward the same quieting effect as our nursery bugbears, only the bugbears are made a reality to them. For- merly the Zuiiis had a certain dance which took place once in thirty years. Its cere- monies required the sacrifice of a child. For the victim the worst child in the place was always selected. The mention of this festival was very apt to produce instanta- neous good behavior in a contrary child. The ceremonies of the morning were ended with the disappearance of the horn- ed monsters, and there was a recess of about two hours. At about three oclock began the most imposing part of the exer- cises, which for the rest of the day were held in what is called the Dance Place. This was a large rectangular court; on all sides the houses rose in terraces, forming a picturesque amphitheatre for such a so- lemnity. It was the most gorgeous natu- ral spectacle we had ever seen in real life. Everything was so thoroughly in earnest about it; there was nothing that savored of the stage, nor was there evident any of the tawdry display customary to the pa- rade days of civilization. It was a gen- uine manifestation of the deep religious feeling of the people. The costumes, which were generally highly grotesque, were splendidly elaborate, brilliantly beau- tiful in color, and rich in material. The genuineness of their make and the reali- ty of the properties would put to shame the tinselled pretense of our gala days. There were wonderful varieties of head- gear plumes, crests, beards, fantastic masks checkered off in various colors, ev- ergreen decorations of spruce twigs ar- ranged around the neck in a sort of a syl- van ruffle, or in a girdle around the waist; ingenious devices in the decoration of kilts, sashes, fine skins, while various kinds of antique-looking weapons, such as war-clubs, spears, and bows, ornamented with bunches of reeds, gave the scene a sort of heroically classical aspect. Many of the beards were of a pale Scandinavian blonde, while the hair was of the same color in a number of instances. Perhaps these might have represented mythologi- cal characters who were albinos. But the albinos had no beards. Is it not possible that they may point back to a time when a light haired and bearded race existed in America? The albinos of Zuflithere were several in the placewere droll-look- ing figures; they looked like the Dutch peasants in the paintings of Teniers. Thronging the terraced roofs of the Col- osseum-like Dance Place were the specta- tors, their best apparel with its brilliant colors showing like a gay parterre, while on the upper line figures in brilliant hues stood in intense sunlight against a deep, cloudless sky. All were gazing intently upon the dancers in the arena below, a line of stately rhythmic movement of rich colors, kaleidoscopic in its dazzling effect. From the dancers throats arose a weird swelling song, accompanied by the jan- gling and rattling of rude instruments held in the hands and attached to the heels. This particular dance was called the all- in-one, all the various dances of the Zufii religion being represented in it. Each figure impersonated some character in the Zufii mythology. There were, for in- stance, the God of Water, the God of Fire, the God of Air, the God of the Cactus, the God of Turquoise, the Woman from the Moon, and the Echo God. A dance would last about ten minutes, during which the only motionless figures would be the Mud- heads, who would stand around in groups, or sit upon the ground with a comical open - mouth air, and the priest of the dance, who was the only unmasked par- ticipant. The priest was a handsome youth with flowing hair, dressed in a pic- turesque mediawat - looking costume of black buckskin, touched off with red sash- es and an abundance of silver buttons in rows. He wore knee - breeches and leg- gings, and looked as if he might have come out of the days of the troubadours. He stood statue-like at the head of the line of dancers, his position one of easy grace, and he held a vessel of sacred meal in his hand. From this he would occasionally scatter a pinch of the meal on the ground. At a signal, which seemed something like THE GATES OF PARADISE. 91 that given in a theatre for a change of scene, the dancers would stop and retire for an interval of ceremonies in the estufa. As they were leaving the place, a bit of pan- tomime would always occur. The Wo- man from the Moon, who wore a skirt, and had a crescent-like mask, and long yellow hair streaming down her backher whole aspect very Mother - Goose - like - would have a piece of by-play with the God of the Cactus, whose place in the line was just in front of her. The legend was that she had come down from the moon to gather cactus ; therefore the God of the Cactus was trying to avoid her as she en- deavored to pluck the cactus adornments of his head-dress, and place theni in the large basket she carried on her back. Meanwhile the Echo God, who was the last figure in the line of dancers, and kept invariably half a note and half a step be- hind the singing and dancing of the oth- ers throughout the whole, was at the end of the dance obliged to echo everything that was shouted out to him, lie was thus often kept behind for several min- utes after the others had gone in. The mischievous Mudheads took a leading part iu this diversion. We shouted out to him in English, and although ignorant of the language, he proved himself a remarkably clever imitator. But when one of us whistled, that was beyond his mimicry, and it seemed to disconcert him a little. Each of the impersonators had come into Zufli in the early morning from the direc- tion of the place where the respective gods were supposed to live. The Echo God, for instance, came from his home in the valley near the sacred mountain. The intervals between the dances were filled out by the antics of the Mudheads, whose functions corresponded exactly to those of the clown in a circus. Here was another of those inexplicable resemblances between Zufii customs and those of our race. The Mudhead was an institution with them as far back as their traditions reached, and they had never seen any- thing in the nature of a circus. But, like our clowns, the Mudheads would bur- lesque the performance; they would get together and try to sing and dance like the regular performers, and would make the most awkward blunders, always re- sulting in failure and discomfiture. They would make a deal of clownish fun, show- ing that an acute sense of humor enters into Indian nature, the spectators greeting every sally with shouts of laughter as mer- ry as ever resounded from the benches around a canvas - covered ring; and in their nude bodies, and heads smooth and bald, with the exception of the knobby ex- crescences, they resembled the make-up of the traditional clown. As soon as the dancers appeared again, the Mudheads would subside, but would at once resume their indecorum with the beginning of the next pause. So it went on until the de- clining sun left the Dance Place in shad ow. When its last ray had gone from the arena, the dance was ended. The handsome young priest approached the group of Mudheads, who stood with rev- erently bowed heads, and appeared to give them his benediction, sprinkling them with sacred meal. Performers and public then dispersed. That was our last day in Zufii. THE GATES OF PARADISE. CERTAIN expressions spontaneously uttered by the right men in the right places carry with them such an irresisti- ble conviction of their truth as to he ac- cepted at once by mankind as their uni- versal property and decision, which none venture to criticise or gainsay. Of this character is the memorable saying of Mi- chael Angelo Buonarotti regarding the doors of the Baptistery at Florence, fa- cing the Duomo, executed by Lorenzo Ghi- berti. Standing before them one day, he was asked what he thought of them, and whether they were beautiful; to which he replied, They are so beautiful that they might stand at the gates of paradise. A more beautiful and comprehensive crit- icism was never bestowed on a work of art, and none from a weightier source. The greatest artist of all modern time, perhaps also the greatest who ever exist- ed, in a few words of pregnant meaning stamped the genius of Lorenzo Ghiberti with an inipression which will outlast the bronze itself, arid never die out of the meniory of men. It has never been ques- tioned or misunderstood; for it embodies emphatically, succinctly, and intelligibly to every one capable of appreciating in any measurable degree the aspirations of art and beauty and skill of workmanship, the special ambition and idealism of the maker of these gates. And this was to make a fitting entrance to the oldest church of Florence, built, as tradition

THE GATES OF PARADISE. 91 that given in a theatre for a change of scene, the dancers would stop and retire for an interval of ceremonies in the estufa. As they were leaving the place, a bit of pan- tomime would always occur. The Wo- man from the Moon, who wore a skirt, and had a crescent-like mask, and long yellow hair streaming down her backher whole aspect very Mother - Goose - like - would have a piece of by-play with the God of the Cactus, whose place in the line was just in front of her. The legend was that she had come down from the moon to gather cactus ; therefore the God of the Cactus was trying to avoid her as she en- deavored to pluck the cactus adornments of his head-dress, and place theni in the large basket she carried on her back. Meanwhile the Echo God, who was the last figure in the line of dancers, and kept invariably half a note and half a step be- hind the singing and dancing of the oth- ers throughout the whole, was at the end of the dance obliged to echo everything that was shouted out to him, lie was thus often kept behind for several min- utes after the others had gone in. The mischievous Mudheads took a leading part iu this diversion. We shouted out to him in English, and although ignorant of the language, he proved himself a remarkably clever imitator. But when one of us whistled, that was beyond his mimicry, and it seemed to disconcert him a little. Each of the impersonators had come into Zufli in the early morning from the direc- tion of the place where the respective gods were supposed to live. The Echo God, for instance, came from his home in the valley near the sacred mountain. The intervals between the dances were filled out by the antics of the Mudheads, whose functions corresponded exactly to those of the clown in a circus. Here was another of those inexplicable resemblances between Zufii customs and those of our race. The Mudhead was an institution with them as far back as their traditions reached, and they had never seen any- thing in the nature of a circus. But, like our clowns, the Mudheads would bur- lesque the performance; they would get together and try to sing and dance like the regular performers, and would make the most awkward blunders, always re- sulting in failure and discomfiture. They would make a deal of clownish fun, show- ing that an acute sense of humor enters into Indian nature, the spectators greeting every sally with shouts of laughter as mer- ry as ever resounded from the benches around a canvas - covered ring; and in their nude bodies, and heads smooth and bald, with the exception of the knobby ex- crescences, they resembled the make-up of the traditional clown. As soon as the dancers appeared again, the Mudheads would subside, but would at once resume their indecorum with the beginning of the next pause. So it went on until the de- clining sun left the Dance Place in shad ow. When its last ray had gone from the arena, the dance was ended. The handsome young priest approached the group of Mudheads, who stood with rev- erently bowed heads, and appeared to give them his benediction, sprinkling them with sacred meal. Performers and public then dispersed. That was our last day in Zufii. THE GATES OF PARADISE. CERTAIN expressions spontaneously uttered by the right men in the right places carry with them such an irresisti- ble conviction of their truth as to he ac- cepted at once by mankind as their uni- versal property and decision, which none venture to criticise or gainsay. Of this character is the memorable saying of Mi- chael Angelo Buonarotti regarding the doors of the Baptistery at Florence, fa- cing the Duomo, executed by Lorenzo Ghi- berti. Standing before them one day, he was asked what he thought of them, and whether they were beautiful; to which he replied, They are so beautiful that they might stand at the gates of paradise. A more beautiful and comprehensive crit- icism was never bestowed on a work of art, and none from a weightier source. The greatest artist of all modern time, perhaps also the greatest who ever exist- ed, in a few words of pregnant meaning stamped the genius of Lorenzo Ghiberti with an inipression which will outlast the bronze itself, arid never die out of the meniory of men. It has never been ques- tioned or misunderstood; for it embodies emphatically, succinctly, and intelligibly to every one capable of appreciating in any measurable degree the aspirations of art and beauty and skill of workmanship, the special ambition and idealism of the maker of these gates. And this was to make a fitting entrance to the oldest church of Florence, built, as tradition 92 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. states, out of the materials of a pagan temple which had occupied its site nearly a thousand years before, and dedicated to the baptism of all the infants of Florence, at their birth, into the fold of Christiani- ty. This quaint, archaic, octagonal build- ing, itself a museum of art of many epochs, having its origin in the slow de- struction of the beliefs of their pagan fore- fathers, erected in part from the spoils of their doomed shrines, was particularly a representative edifice to the Florentines. For it recorded the death and burial of their primitive faith, and the rise and progress of the new and more spiritual, with its loftier hopes and purer doctrines; the resurrection from the dead into an im- mortal life by means of public baptism; the sealing of their children into the Christian fold by passing through its ever- open, inviting gates for their obtaining the new salvation offered freely alike to bond and free. Consequently the Bap- tistery was associated in the minds of all citizens with the first saving rites of the new Church for themselves and their off- spring, symbolizing their becoming thence- forth the heirs of the heavenly Jerusalem, whose golden gates it opened to them as soon as they first breathed the atmos- phere of the earth; recording both their spiritual and material citizenship in its ancient records and the solemn vows of their sponsors. They might thencefor- ward worship in other edifices, but it was an imperative duty to make their first confession and adoption of their religious belief here, in a building which recalled the memories of other times and faith, whilst pointing out the new way of life. None other, therefore, has ever been or can be dearer or more instructive to the souls of the Florentines than this histori- cal record of their religion from its earliest dawn to the latest hour, generation on generation for twelve hundred years now having passed through its portals, moved by one common purpose and love. It was therefore no conimon ecclesiasti- cal temple that LorenzoGhiberti was called upon to decorate as a sculptor and bronzist, and for no common purpose. Besides making his gates worthy of their special destination and symbolism, he was also called on to make them do equal artistic justice to the great cathedral they were to face, which aspired to be the grandest re- ligious structure of Christendom. The general history of Ghibertis gates doubtless is familiar to every reader. But the details will bear repeating, especially as America has now become possessed of a reduced bronze copy of those praised by Michael Angelo, gilded as were the origi- nals, which are to be set up in the house of Mr. William H. Vanderbilt, in New Yorka destination for the creations of his brain and hands of which Ghiberti in his wildest fancies could never have dreamed, for Columbus was not born when he began his labors. These copies are one- half the size of the original, arid were made by Barbedienne, of Paris. They were exhibited at the London Universal Exhi- bition of 1851, where they were purchased for one hundred thousand francs, and placed by Prince Demidoff in his palace of San Donato, near Florence, forming the entrance to his chapel, but latterly changed to a music-room. At the great sale of his collections last year they were purchased on American account, and sent to New York to be used as above indicated. Before giving a detailed account of these last gates of Ghiberti, it is necessary to state that the Baptistery was intended to have four sets, one on each fa~ade. Andrea Pisano was employed to execute the cen- tral one on the northern side, for which Giotto had prepared a design. He began his work in 1331, assisted by his even more skillful son, Nino, and completed it in 1339. The style of execution is somewhat eman- cipated from the Byzantine type, showing the influence of the Pisan school. On the cessation of the plague in 1400, the Guild of Cloth Merchants and the city government of Florence decided to have made two other bronze doors for the Church of San Giovanni, to correspond with that of Andrea Pisano, and thins complete the edifice, walling up the fourth space toward the west to accommodate the high altar. Artists throughout Italy were invited to present specimens of their work in bronze, to be submitted to the judgment of a jury of thirty-four individuals, includ- ing painters, sculptors, workers in metals, and others experienced in art, not merely of Florence, but other countries. Lorenzo Ghiberti, who was born in 1381, was then in his twentieth year, residing in Rimini, where he had gone to escape the plague, and had been honorably and profitably employed by Pandolfo Malatesta, the lord of that city. Bartoluccio, his step-father, no sooner heard of the intended work than he wrote Loreuzo, urging him to return to THE GATES OF PAHADISE. 93 TIlE GATES OF GIIIBERTI. 94 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Florence and take part in the coming trial, telling him that the doors were to be made with the greatest magnificence and rich- ness, as was proper for the dignity of a city like theirsto nse his own words, Con qnella maggior magnificenza e richezza che alla dignit~ di un popolo come ii nos- tro si convengono, and adding, Ora torna, tu pure Lorenzo, a dar saggio di te. L occasione ~ bella per mostrare I ingegno tuo. Now come back imme- diately, Lorenzo, and give a sample of your capacity; the opportunity is a fine one to show your talents. Although Malatesta urged him to re- main at his court, he lost no time in re- turning to his native city to join the great concourse of artists who had assembled from various parts of Italy to compete, not for the doors at first, but for the privi- lege of becoming competitors for the final designs, after giving proofs of their gener- al ability in this direction. Out of their whole number the city and guild selected only six as competent to the trial, but in what manner and on what ground this selection was made we do not know. Of the six, two were Florentines and the oth- ers natives of Tuscany, but by the usage of the time considered as foreignersi. e., not city-born, although of the province. Even within my recollection, before the unity of Italy, Florentines spoke of the Li- vornese, or inhabitants of Leghorn, as for- eigners, and in no friendly spirit. From the artists thus chosen it would appear that the best that offered, without regard to local prejudices, were named, each receiving a sum of money, with the injunction to produce within one year a story or panel in bronze, all of equal size, from the subject furnished by the of- ficials, which was the Sacrifice of Abra- ham, and was intended to be one of the compartments of the first door. This composition was to be treated in a natu- ralistic manner, to include landscape in detail, with animals and human figures, nude and clothed, some in full relief, oth- ers in half and low relief, according to the rules of scientific perspective, which was then becoming a favorite study with the Florentine school. It would seem from these conditions that the rival artists had no other option than to neglect the severer classical rules of sculpture, and adapt their work to the new taste, which imposed on it a practice as regards picturesque compo- sition that belongs legitimately to paint- ing rather than its sister art, as strict- ly recognized and obeyed by the Grecian artists. The names of the six candidates chosen were Filippo Brunellesci, the celebrated architect of the dome of the cathedral; Lorenzo Bartoluccio (Ghiberti); Jacopo della Quercia of Siena; Niccolo of Arez- zo one of his scholars; Francesco of Val- dambrina; and Simone of Colle, renown- ed for his bronzes. Vasari makes the number seven, adding Donatello to this list. There is, however, no authentic ev- idence that he took an official part in the competition, even if he was not too young; nor is there any bronze or design of his existing to show that he tried his skill pri- vately, although he might have attempt- ed something without entering into the public competition. Those who did work- ed secretly, so as not to borrow anything from each other, keeping their designs also from the public, with the exception of Ghiberti. Assisted and counselled by his shrewd step-father, Bartoluccio, he began many models before fixing on one, invit- ing citizens and strangers continually to examine and criticise them, putting no privacy on his work. Vasari says he profited greatly by this course, as well he might, for Florence at this epoch was full of excellent judges of art, besides distin- guished artists, whose comments could not fail to be useful to a youth not yet twenty, whatever his native ability. The result showed the wisdom of his action. When the year had expired, the jury, the consuls of the guild, and many emi- nent citizens and strangers of all classes assembled in great state and seriousness to examine the six panels and discuss their merits. Although at first there was con- siderable diversity of opinion regarding four of them, each possessing some excel- lent points, but having also noticeable de- fects, all agreed that the designs of Bin- nellesco and Ghiberti were superior to the others; not excepting a model offered by Donatello, Vasari writes, which, however, is now supposed to be one of his many er- rors of fact, as he does not himself allude to it in his life of Donatello. Neither does Ghiberti in his commentaries, al- though he names all the other competi- tors, speak of Donatello. And his silence is followed by the contemporary writer of the life of Brunellesco. I am sorry to con- vict Vasari of an error in his statement, and tobe obliged to exclude the gifted sculp THE GATES OF PAIRADISE. 95 tor of the St. George from this amiable rivalry of genius, but it must be done, the more especially, as before remarked, as there is absolutely nothing existing of Do- natellos work to confirm the idea that he actually competed. It is true, also, that no- thing has come down to us of the models of the four Tuscan artists; perhaps because, after being rejected, no special care was tak- en of them, whilst those of Brunellesco and Ghiberti in perfect condition are now to be seen in the National Museum of Florence. We have therefore in material evidence the distinctive merits of these two famous panels, and can determine for ourselves how far the judges were right in ascribing to Brunellescos model greater vigor of ex- ecution and strength of composition, and to Ghibertis more grace, elegance, and picturesque variety of detail and expres- sion. Both displayed a striking advance in naturalistic truth and artistic design over the previous work in bronze of their school. Indeed, the judges were so divided in opinion, first inclining to the one and then to the other, as their best points were brought into contrast, that it became very uncertain who would win. Some pro- posed that the execution of the gates should be divided between Brunellesco and Ghiberti as the better way of termi- nating the question; others advocated the postponement of any decision. But the consuls insisted on an immediate judg- ment. During this discussion Donatello had taken Brunellesco apart, and was con- versing earnestly with him. Suddenly Brunellesco turned toward the judges to speak, and all became silent to hear what he had to say. With a firm voice he ex- claimed: Adjudge, adjudge the work to Lorenzo Ghiberti! He alone deserves it. I am certain that the public can not better be served, or with more distinction ; both adding that Ghibertis model excelled all the others, and it would be more a proof of envy to deprive him of the commission than of justice to give it to him, and to allow him the opportunity of producing the noble fruits of which he gave such fair promise. His words were electric. Yes, yes ! exclaimed all the judges and the crowd present, breaking out into fran- tic applause, waving their caps, clapping their hands, and, with genuine Italian im- pulse, embracing and kissing each other after a fashion that astonishes the less demonstrative Northern peoples. This scene is a bright jewel in the an- nais of art, which has to narrate so often the contrary passions of envy, jealousy, and even criminal attempts on the lives or works of successful artists. Domenichino had to fly for his life from Naples because of the rage his talents excited among his rivals in that city; and even in Florence, where the above memorable act trans- pired, a century later, a guard had to be set over Michael Angelos David, when first completed, to prevent its being muti- lated by his professional enemies. Hence we must regard the disinterested action of Donatello and Brunellesco as one of the most magnanimous deeds that history has ever recorded, where so much was at stake that sensitive artists hold dearer even than any material honors or emoluments. Well might Michael Angelo, in gazing a hundred years afterward on the second and more beautiful set of doors made by Ghiberti for the eastern fa9ade, and which may justly be called the result of the award of the first set to Ghiberti, inspired by the feeling that led to their production, enthusiastically exclaim, They are wor- thy to be the gates of paradise itself, for certainly the fraternal spirit of self-denial, in honor preferring one another, so dif- ficult to feel and practice in this hard-fist- ed, treacherous world, baptized them from their very beginning into the fold of celes- tial things, spreading a heavenly glow over them. These remarks refer more particularly to the second door, executed long after the first by Ghiberti. This was composed in its general features very much on the plan of the small compartments and stories of that of Andrea Pisano, and was only removed from the archaic Byzantine type by the superior action and modelling of its fig- ures and chief details. The full develop- ment of the picturesque element in sculp- ture in its best phase was not made by Ghiberti until, in the maturity of his genius, he had completely freed himself from the influences of his predecessors and formed an entirely independent style, of which he is still the greatest master. But of this I shall speak more at large when we come to the second door. The first contains twenty compositions representing the life of the Saviour. Be- neath them are others with figures of the four Evangelists and four Doctors of the Church, varied in action and idea, all in- closed in an elaborate, rich frame-work of foliage and ornaments of an appropriate 96 HAIRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. character, borrowed from nature, with male and female heads of prophets and sibyls symmetrically disposed at each an- gle. By itself this door would have con- ferred great distinction on Ghiberti, but it is so much eclipsed in every respect by his subsequent one that I fear few travellers bestow on it the attention it deserves. Cambi and Ricci assert it was completed and put into place in April, 1424. But later investigation speaks of it as not finished until three years afterward. Possibly the main parts were done at the first date, and the borders or frame added later. It weighs 34,000 pounds, and cost, by one statement, 16,594 golden forms; Vasari gives the sum at 22,000. The form of the Florentine republic corresponded to elev- en lire of the present currency of Italy, and had a relative purchasing value four times greater so that we may estimate each form as worth forty - four lire or francs on tbeir present monetary basis. The cost of this door, therefore, taking it at the larger sum, which probably includes all the incidental expenses of finishing and setting up, would e nal ~195,000. These old cloth merchants of Florence were no nigrgards when art and the honor of thcii city and religion were concerned. The guild were so much pleased with it that they gave Ghiberti full permission to consult his own tastes in the design of the third door without other restriction on their part than that it should be the rich- est, most highly adorned, most beautiful, and most perfect that he could possibly contrive, or that could be imagined. Nor TIlE FIRST PANELTHE CREATION OF ADAM AND EVE, AND ThEIR EXPULSION FROM PARADISE. THE GATES OF PARADISE. 97 would they have him spare either time or labor, to the end that as he had previous- ly surpassed all other sculptors, so lie might now eclipse and surpass all his own earlier works. Verily this is indeed a commission after an artists own heart, an ideal commission such as every gen- ~uine artist longs for at least once in his life. But it implies two conditions not often to be found in harmony. First, a tried, conscientious, high-minded artist; and secondly, a confiding, intelligent client with a long purse, or one disposed to put into enduring art form the desires of a noble spirit without regard to cost. Ghiberti and the guild were fortunate in each other. In the first door he was re- stricted to the forms prescribed or suggest- ed by the consuls and the subjects they selected from the Bible histories. Now they gave him complete freedom of choice and action in ten subjects selected from the Old Testament by Leonardo Aretino in their behalf. He well repaid their con- fidence. For this second door, so pre- eminently beautiful, and surpassing im- measurably the former, was executed at somewhat less cost Richa says 14,594 formsand was finished about 1450, only five years before his death. On both sets of the doors he had labored forty years in all. As is seen, they are divided into ten compartments, five on either side, embody- ing the following stories: 1st, the creation of Adam and Eve; 2d, Adam and Eve with Cain and Abel; 3d, Noah and the ark; 4th, the story of Abraham and Isaac; 5th, the story of Jacob and Rebekah; 6th, the story of Joseph and his brethren; 7th, Moses on Mount Sinai; 8th, the fall of Jer- icho; 9th, David and Goliath; 10th, Solo- mon and the Queen of Sheba. Of the manner of treating these varied and rich themes, Ghiberti writes himself: I have done my best in all respects to imitate na- ture; some of the histories represented contain more than a hundred figures, all done with my best diligence. And this in a few words, is the key to his whole style and execution, viz., to imitate na- ture, and do his best. But it does not award him sufficient credit; for the man- ner in which he has composed these his- tories is his own invention. In pictur- esque, graceful variety of combination and pertinent details, condensing much in little space, giving each separate fea- ture its proper relative position and im- voL. Lxv.No. 385.7 portance as regards the others, bringing all together in harmonious, beautiful unity and balance of parts, eachpanel is a dis- tinct masterpiece. It goes as far in this form of sculpture as it can possibly go with safety to its own inherent, ~esthetic, and artistic qualities and limitations, doing nothing which we can not legitimately admire, and avoiding all those tours de force, pettinesses, and inanities into which picturesque or rococo sculpture subse- quently fell. When we examine the great number of figures and animals, the variety of individual action and expres- sion, the broad simplicity of treatment of the landscape and architecture, the grace- ful draperies, his fine embodiments of spir- itual beingschaste, subdued, yet poetical idealisms, all kept within the limits of nat- ural trutha fecund imagination balanced by a keen eye for the harmonies of nature, and as keen a taste for what is truly se- lect and beautifulwhen we see and ap- preciate all these points in his work, as we must if we carefully observe it, then we can not fail to confirm the verdict of his contemporaries on his wonderful genius, and pronounce him unique of his kind. To get at all this in its perfection the original work must be attentively studied. It displays a happy balance between clas- sical freedom and idealism in the treat- ment of the human figure more or less nude, and medkeval rigidity and asceti- cism, with an a~sthetic conception of cos- tume and drapery, sufficiently indicating the forms and movement beneath. Whilst animated by the beauty of antique art, Ghiberti adhered closely in the most es- sential points to his maxim of strictly fol- lowing nature, so as to exhibit effects produced in actual life to the utmost ex- tent his material permits. His work, in consequence, has a rare aspect of natural truth both in general grouping and the modelling of minutest detail, and of ut- most sincerity of treatment. There are no extravagances or tours deforce; no exag- gerations or straining after sensational ef- fects. The histories are simply and graph- ically told. His feeling for elegant and dignified form is remarkably keen, as also his command of forcible action. For he is equally at home in dramatic and idyllic expression. As regards spiritual moye- ment and form, few conceptions of Chris- tian art in airy ease and gracefulness of action, with a sense of supernal power, surpass his delivery of the ten command- 98 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ments on Mount Sinai by the Almighty to Moses, or the three angels in the valley of Mamre appear~ng to Abraham. The sub- tle distinctions between human and spirit- ual forces are admirably personified. It is difficult to say which of these pan- els surpass the others, their merits are so uniform throughout. Every part is com- posed and executed with equal diligence and care. All are a veritable labor of love on the part of the artist. If choice there be, my owa preference would be first for No. 1, the creation of Adam and Eve, and their expulsion from paradise. Next, perhaps, the stories of Noah and Joseph, Nos. 3 and 6. After these, Nos. 8 and 10, the fall of Jericho and the vis- it of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. Al- though all are diversified in subject and treatment, any one by itself embodies the best artistic points of the whole, and col- lectively they form an illustrated Old Tes- tament of the highest character. Nowhere, however, does Lorenzo Ghi- berti show himself more a consummate master in bronze than in his management of the borders, and the frame-work into which the historical panels are placed. In this second door he carried out exclusive- ly his own ideas of composition. At reg- ular intervals between the varied scroll- work, he placed, above and below, four finely modelled recumbent allegorical fig- ures, male and female, and on the sides, twenty upright ones in niches, with inter- vening ideal or portrait heads in full re- lief at each angle of the several panels, making as beautiful and appropriate a set- ting as may be conceived. Near the cen- tre, where his name is engraved, Ghiberti placed his own portrait, then a bald-head- ed old man, and by its side, to the left of the spectator, that of his faithful step-fa- ther, Bartoluccioa well-deserved tribute to his tried friendship and aid. The massive bronze frames of all the doors are ornamented in low and high re- lief with festoons or courses of foliage, fruit, flowers, springing from jirns, and in- terspersed with birds, squirrels, and other natural objects. Each one is a most care- ful study of nature, and modelled with a delicacy and life-like resemblance that have never been surpassed. The birds seem to sing, chirp, and peck, the squirrels to nib- ble, and the leaves to stir in the air, so light ~and flexible and characteristic in form and action is each individual por- tion. In his earliest work there is just a touch of timidity, as if feeling his way and trying his power. But the latest, that which he did just before his death, to sur- round the door by Andrea Pisano, displays the advanced boldness and freedom of ex- ecution. They are far more in relief and larger than the others, and nevertheless of corresponding fineness and delicate touch. Indeed, they are a miracle of cast- ing, and yet he had passed his seventieth year, and was engaged in modelling a third door, which was to take the place of Andreas, which it would seem by Vasaris account was to have been reconstruct- ed, by which must be meant recast and remade. The model for this new door was seen by Yasari half a century and more later, but the descendants of Ghiberti let it be destroyed. Heaven was kind alike to Andrea and Lorenzo, for it took away the latter to join the former in those regions where time is unknown, leaving the work of Andrea in the same condition in which the old Pisan sculptor had left it, now five hundred and more years gone by, but in a lovely frame- work executed by his great successors hands. These doors are a striking con- trast to the more developed but not more sincere art of Ghiberti. Both sculptors alike do honor to the ancient church, which, let us hope, will stand piously erect still another thousand years on its pagan foundations, sacred to the memories of Christianity and of art. THE POLE OF DEATh. ~o t~e ~cuorl~ of ~~bne~ ilanfer. lIow solemnly on mournful eyes The mystic warning rose! But oer the Singers forehead lies A twilight of repose. The twilight deepens into night That night of Arctic breath, The rigor of whose awful blight We recognize as Death. Yet, since beyond the Polar ice Afay shine bright baths of balm, Past its grim barriers last device A crystal-hearted Calm; Thus ice-bound Death, that guards so well His far-off secret goal, May clasp a Peace ineffable For some who reach his Pole. My Poet, is it thus with thee, Beyond this twilight gray, This frozen blight, this sombre sea Ah! hast thou found the Day?

98 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ments on Mount Sinai by the Almighty to Moses, or the three angels in the valley of Mamre appear~ng to Abraham. The sub- tle distinctions between human and spirit- ual forces are admirably personified. It is difficult to say which of these pan- els surpass the others, their merits are so uniform throughout. Every part is com- posed and executed with equal diligence and care. All are a veritable labor of love on the part of the artist. If choice there be, my owa preference would be first for No. 1, the creation of Adam and Eve, and their expulsion from paradise. Next, perhaps, the stories of Noah and Joseph, Nos. 3 and 6. After these, Nos. 8 and 10, the fall of Jericho and the vis- it of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. Al- though all are diversified in subject and treatment, any one by itself embodies the best artistic points of the whole, and col- lectively they form an illustrated Old Tes- tament of the highest character. Nowhere, however, does Lorenzo Ghi- berti show himself more a consummate master in bronze than in his management of the borders, and the frame-work into which the historical panels are placed. In this second door he carried out exclusive- ly his own ideas of composition. At reg- ular intervals between the varied scroll- work, he placed, above and below, four finely modelled recumbent allegorical fig- ures, male and female, and on the sides, twenty upright ones in niches, with inter- vening ideal or portrait heads in full re- lief at each angle of the several panels, making as beautiful and appropriate a set- ting as may be conceived. Near the cen- tre, where his name is engraved, Ghiberti placed his own portrait, then a bald-head- ed old man, and by its side, to the left of the spectator, that of his faithful step-fa- ther, Bartoluccioa well-deserved tribute to his tried friendship and aid. The massive bronze frames of all the doors are ornamented in low and high re- lief with festoons or courses of foliage, fruit, flowers, springing from jirns, and in- terspersed with birds, squirrels, and other natural objects. Each one is a most care- ful study of nature, and modelled with a delicacy and life-like resemblance that have never been surpassed. The birds seem to sing, chirp, and peck, the squirrels to nib- ble, and the leaves to stir in the air, so light ~and flexible and characteristic in form and action is each individual por- tion. In his earliest work there is just a touch of timidity, as if feeling his way and trying his power. But the latest, that which he did just before his death, to sur- round the door by Andrea Pisano, displays the advanced boldness and freedom of ex- ecution. They are far more in relief and larger than the others, and nevertheless of corresponding fineness and delicate touch. Indeed, they are a miracle of cast- ing, and yet he had passed his seventieth year, and was engaged in modelling a third door, which was to take the place of Andreas, which it would seem by Vasaris account was to have been reconstruct- ed, by which must be meant recast and remade. The model for this new door was seen by Yasari half a century and more later, but the descendants of Ghiberti let it be destroyed. Heaven was kind alike to Andrea and Lorenzo, for it took away the latter to join the former in those regions where time is unknown, leaving the work of Andrea in the same condition in which the old Pisan sculptor had left it, now five hundred and more years gone by, but in a lovely frame- work executed by his great successors hands. These doors are a striking con- trast to the more developed but not more sincere art of Ghiberti. Both sculptors alike do honor to the ancient church, which, let us hope, will stand piously erect still another thousand years on its pagan foundations, sacred to the memories of Christianity and of art. THE POLE OF DEATh. ~o t~e ~cuorl~ of ~~bne~ ilanfer. lIow solemnly on mournful eyes The mystic warning rose! But oer the Singers forehead lies A twilight of repose. The twilight deepens into night That night of Arctic breath, The rigor of whose awful blight We recognize as Death. Yet, since beyond the Polar ice Afay shine bright baths of balm, Past its grim barriers last device A crystal-hearted Calm; Thus ice-bound Death, that guards so well His far-off secret goal, May clasp a Peace ineffable For some who reach his Pole. My Poet, is it thus with thee, Beyond this twilight gray, This frozen blight, this sombre sea Ah! hast thou found the Day?

98 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ments on Mount Sinai by the Almighty to Moses, or the three angels in the valley of Mamre appear~ng to Abraham. The sub- tle distinctions between human and spirit- ual forces are admirably personified. It is difficult to say which of these pan- els surpass the others, their merits are so uniform throughout. Every part is com- posed and executed with equal diligence and care. All are a veritable labor of love on the part of the artist. If choice there be, my owa preference would be first for No. 1, the creation of Adam and Eve, and their expulsion from paradise. Next, perhaps, the stories of Noah and Joseph, Nos. 3 and 6. After these, Nos. 8 and 10, the fall of Jericho and the vis- it of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. Al- though all are diversified in subject and treatment, any one by itself embodies the best artistic points of the whole, and col- lectively they form an illustrated Old Tes- tament of the highest character. Nowhere, however, does Lorenzo Ghi- berti show himself more a consummate master in bronze than in his management of the borders, and the frame-work into which the historical panels are placed. In this second door he carried out exclusive- ly his own ideas of composition. At reg- ular intervals between the varied scroll- work, he placed, above and below, four finely modelled recumbent allegorical fig- ures, male and female, and on the sides, twenty upright ones in niches, with inter- vening ideal or portrait heads in full re- lief at each angle of the several panels, making as beautiful and appropriate a set- ting as may be conceived. Near the cen- tre, where his name is engraved, Ghiberti placed his own portrait, then a bald-head- ed old man, and by its side, to the left of the spectator, that of his faithful step-fa- ther, Bartoluccioa well-deserved tribute to his tried friendship and aid. The massive bronze frames of all the doors are ornamented in low and high re- lief with festoons or courses of foliage, fruit, flowers, springing from jirns, and in- terspersed with birds, squirrels, and other natural objects. Each one is a most care- ful study of nature, and modelled with a delicacy and life-like resemblance that have never been surpassed. The birds seem to sing, chirp, and peck, the squirrels to nib- ble, and the leaves to stir in the air, so light ~and flexible and characteristic in form and action is each individual por- tion. In his earliest work there is just a touch of timidity, as if feeling his way and trying his power. But the latest, that which he did just before his death, to sur- round the door by Andrea Pisano, displays the advanced boldness and freedom of ex- ecution. They are far more in relief and larger than the others, and nevertheless of corresponding fineness and delicate touch. Indeed, they are a miracle of cast- ing, and yet he had passed his seventieth year, and was engaged in modelling a third door, which was to take the place of Andreas, which it would seem by Vasaris account was to have been reconstruct- ed, by which must be meant recast and remade. The model for this new door was seen by Yasari half a century and more later, but the descendants of Ghiberti let it be destroyed. Heaven was kind alike to Andrea and Lorenzo, for it took away the latter to join the former in those regions where time is unknown, leaving the work of Andrea in the same condition in which the old Pisan sculptor had left it, now five hundred and more years gone by, but in a lovely frame- work executed by his great successors hands. These doors are a striking con- trast to the more developed but not more sincere art of Ghiberti. Both sculptors alike do honor to the ancient church, which, let us hope, will stand piously erect still another thousand years on its pagan foundations, sacred to the memories of Christianity and of art. THE POLE OF DEATh. ~o t~e ~cuorl~ of ~~bne~ ilanfer. lIow solemnly on mournful eyes The mystic warning rose! But oer the Singers forehead lies A twilight of repose. The twilight deepens into night That night of Arctic breath, The rigor of whose awful blight We recognize as Death. Yet, since beyond the Polar ice Afay shine bright baths of balm, Past its grim barriers last device A crystal-hearted Calm; Thus ice-bound Death, that guards so well His far-off secret goal, May clasp a Peace ineffable For some who reach his Pole. My Poet, is it thus with thee, Beyond this twilight gray, This frozen blight, this sombre sea Ah! hast thou found the Day? THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. TO any one looking superficially at a map of North America, one hundred and thirty years ago, it might well have seemed that, of the three great nations which had competed for the possession of the continent, the foremost position had been firmly secured by France. Certainly in geographical extent the French domain held the first place. From the St. Law- rence to the Great Lakes, and northward to Hudson Bay, stretched the French province of Canada. From Lake Cham- plain slanting through Central New York to where Pittsburgh now stands, then fol- lowing the Alleghanies down to Eastern Tennessee, and slanting again in a some- what arbitrary line to Mobile Bay, ran the eastern boundary of French Louisiana. The western limits of this huge province were ill defined, but they extended in the- ory to the sources of the Missouri; and in a north and south line Louisiana compre- hended everything from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico. Nor was the control of France over this territory merely nomi- nal, at least so far as the portion east of the Mississippi is concerned. Though the set- tlements of the French were but few and far between, they were placed with admi- rable skill, both for comiimercial and for stra- tegic purposes. Each settlement, besides forming tbe nucleus of a lucrative trade, was a strong military centre from which the allegiance of surrounding Indian tribes might be enforced, and at that time the power of the Indians had not yet ceased to be formidable. In contrast with this immense domain, the strip of English settlements along the Atlantic coast would have seemed quite narrow and insignificant. In New York the frontier was at Johnson Hall, not far from Schenectady; in Pennsylvania it was at Carlisle; farther south the advance from the coast toward the interior had been ev~n less considerable. Moreover, as far as military purposes were concerned, these colonies would seem to have been as badly organized as possible. Divided into thirteen distinct and independent govern- ments, owning a varying and ill-defined allegiance to the British crown, it was next to impossible to secure concerted mil- itary action among them. Even in any single colony the raising of troops required so much discussion in the legislature, and so much wrangling over local or sectarian interests, that the assailanf was as likely as not to have delivered his blow and got off scot-free before any force was in read- iness to thwart or punish him. Besides this, the English colonists were pre-em- inently a peace-loving people, occupied almost entirely with their own domestic affairs; they had as little as possible to do with the Indians, and for the present, at least, had no far-reaching designs upon the interior of the continent; whereas the French, on the other hand, had a perfectly well-defined military policy, and bent all their energies toward maintaining and consolidating the supremacy over the country which they seemed already to have acquired. Nevertheless, within thirteen years from the time we have taken for our survey, the French did not possess a single rood of land in the whole of North America; and except for a few months at the beginning of the present century, they have never since held any territory here. Moreover, the fall of the French power was at once admitted to be as irretrievable as it was sudden; and since the first fatal catastro- phe it has never shown even so much vi- tality as would have been implied in a serious attempt to recover its lost prestige. The causes of this striking phenomenon are worthy of consideration. Of all the modern nations which have sought to reproduce and perpetuate their social and political institutions by coloniz- ing the savage regions of the earth, Eng- land is the only one which has achieved signal and lasting success. For this re- markable fact various causes may be as- signed; but on careful reflection I think we shall find the principal cause to lie in the circumstance that in England alone, among the great European nations, both individual liberty and local self-govern- ment have always been preserved; where- as elsewhereand notably in the France of the Old R6gime, with which our com- parison is here chiefly concernedthese indispensable elements of national vitali- ty had been, by the seventeenth century, almost completely lost. To understand this point fully, we must go back far into the past, and inquire for a moment into the origin of despotic government. The great problem of civilization is how to secure sufficient uniformity of belief and action among men without going so far

THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. TO any one looking superficially at a map of North America, one hundred and thirty years ago, it might well have seemed that, of the three great nations which had competed for the possession of the continent, the foremost position had been firmly secured by France. Certainly in geographical extent the French domain held the first place. From the St. Law- rence to the Great Lakes, and northward to Hudson Bay, stretched the French province of Canada. From Lake Cham- plain slanting through Central New York to where Pittsburgh now stands, then fol- lowing the Alleghanies down to Eastern Tennessee, and slanting again in a some- what arbitrary line to Mobile Bay, ran the eastern boundary of French Louisiana. The western limits of this huge province were ill defined, but they extended in the- ory to the sources of the Missouri; and in a north and south line Louisiana compre- hended everything from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico. Nor was the control of France over this territory merely nomi- nal, at least so far as the portion east of the Mississippi is concerned. Though the set- tlements of the French were but few and far between, they were placed with admi- rable skill, both for comiimercial and for stra- tegic purposes. Each settlement, besides forming tbe nucleus of a lucrative trade, was a strong military centre from which the allegiance of surrounding Indian tribes might be enforced, and at that time the power of the Indians had not yet ceased to be formidable. In contrast with this immense domain, the strip of English settlements along the Atlantic coast would have seemed quite narrow and insignificant. In New York the frontier was at Johnson Hall, not far from Schenectady; in Pennsylvania it was at Carlisle; farther south the advance from the coast toward the interior had been ev~n less considerable. Moreover, as far as military purposes were concerned, these colonies would seem to have been as badly organized as possible. Divided into thirteen distinct and independent govern- ments, owning a varying and ill-defined allegiance to the British crown, it was next to impossible to secure concerted mil- itary action among them. Even in any single colony the raising of troops required so much discussion in the legislature, and so much wrangling over local or sectarian interests, that the assailanf was as likely as not to have delivered his blow and got off scot-free before any force was in read- iness to thwart or punish him. Besides this, the English colonists were pre-em- inently a peace-loving people, occupied almost entirely with their own domestic affairs; they had as little as possible to do with the Indians, and for the present, at least, had no far-reaching designs upon the interior of the continent; whereas the French, on the other hand, had a perfectly well-defined military policy, and bent all their energies toward maintaining and consolidating the supremacy over the country which they seemed already to have acquired. Nevertheless, within thirteen years from the time we have taken for our survey, the French did not possess a single rood of land in the whole of North America; and except for a few months at the beginning of the present century, they have never since held any territory here. Moreover, the fall of the French power was at once admitted to be as irretrievable as it was sudden; and since the first fatal catastro- phe it has never shown even so much vi- tality as would have been implied in a serious attempt to recover its lost prestige. The causes of this striking phenomenon are worthy of consideration. Of all the modern nations which have sought to reproduce and perpetuate their social and political institutions by coloniz- ing the savage regions of the earth, Eng- land is the only one which has achieved signal and lasting success. For this re- markable fact various causes may be as- signed; but on careful reflection I think we shall find the principal cause to lie in the circumstance that in England alone, among the great European nations, both individual liberty and local self-govern- ment have always been preserved; where- as elsewhereand notably in the France of the Old R6gime, with which our com- parison is here chiefly concernedthese indispensable elements of national vitali- ty had been, by the seventeenth century, almost completely lost. To understand this point fully, we must go back far into the past, and inquire for a moment into the origin of despotic government. The great problem of civilization is how to secure sufficient uniformity of belief and action among men without going so far 100 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. as to destroy variety of belief and action. A world peopled with savages, like ancient North America, is incapable of much pro- gress, because it is impossible to secure concerted action on a large scale, and so the powers of men are frittered away in labors which tend toward no common re- sult. The initial difficulty in civilizing a savage world is to get a large number of its savages to work together, for generation after generation, in accordance with some general system, for the subjugation of sur- rounding savages and the establishment of a permanent community. Unless some such long-enduring concert of action can be secured, a settled form of civilization can not be attained; but the history of such a countryas in the case of ancient North Americawill be an endless series of trivial and useless wars. The nations which in early times have become civilized and peaceful have become so through the military superiority which the power of permanently concerted action entails; but this great advantage has generally been attended by a disadvantage. In most of these early civilized nations the forces which tend to make the whole community think and act alike have been so far en- couraged that the result has been absolute despotism. Not political and ecclesiastical despotism simply, but underlying these a social despotism which in course of time moulds all the members of the community upon the same model, so that their char- acters become monotonously alike. The chief types of this kind of civilization are China and ancient Egypt, but all the civ- ilized nations of Asia have been character- ized by this sort of despotism. The result, of course, is immobility. When the whole community lias come to think and feel and behave in the same way, every expression of dissent, every attempt at innovation, is at once crushed out; or rather such uni- formity of belief and behavior is attained only after all dissent and innovation have been crushed out; and of course in such a community no further progress is pos- sible. If our principal subject were the phi- losophy of European history, it would be interesting and profitable to inquire into the circumstances which have en- abled the nations of Europe to get over the initial difficulty of civilization and secure the benefits of concerted action without going so far as to crush out vari- ation in belief and conduct. As it is, we must content ourselves with observing tbat in this sort of compromise has con- sisted the peculiar progressiveness of Eu- ropean civilization. The different nations of Europe have solved the problem with very differentde~crees of successEngland and Spain affording the two extreme in- stancesbut none have quite failed in it like the nations of Asia. There have been despotisms in Europe, but nothing like the despotism of Assyria or Persia. The pa- pacy never quite became a caliphate, though some of the popes may have done their best to make it so. Neither Philip II. nor Louis XIV. was quite a sultan, however it might have tickled their fancy to be thought so. Nevertheless the tendency toward Asi- atic despotism has asserted itself very strongly at various epochs of European history, usually, perhaps, as the result of prolonged military pressure from without. The tendency increased quite steadily in the Roman Empire from the time of the earliest Germanic invasions until the cul- mination of the Byzantine era; and the traditions of this despotism were inherited by the Roman Church. In Germany, the operation of the tendency has been delayed in great part by the same causes which have retarded the unification of the coun- try. In Spain, it had proceeded so far in the sixteenth century astoproduce a nation- al torpor, from which the Spaniards have not yet succeeded in arousing themselves. In France, a somewhat similar process went on until in the eighteenth century it was checked by the influx of English ideas, which prepared the way for the Great Revolution. In England, the tendency toward absolutism was always much weaker than anywhere else, but it was strong enough in the seventeenth century to bring about the migration of Puritans to America, and afterward the Great Re- bellion, and finally the Revolution of 1688. In these and other instances, however, where it has asserted itself in England, the tendency has been so weak as to be promptly checked. There has never been a time in English history when free think- ing on political and religious subjects has been quite suppressed. Of all the great European nations, England alone has suc- ceeded in reaching a high stage of civiliza- tion without seriously modifying the free institutions which in primitive times were the common possession of the Aryan peo- ple by whom Europe was settled. THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 101 The consequences of this have been very great. After the initial difficulties of civ- ilization have once been clearly surmount- ed, there can be no question that diversity of opinion and variety of character are of the greatest importance for the develop- ment of a rich and powerful national life. Other things equal, the foremost place in civilization must inevitably be seized and maintained by the nation which most sedulously cherishes and encourages va- riety. Such a nation will be more invent- ive than others, more prompt to meet sudden emergencies, more buoyant in re- covering from calamity; its people will be more easily adaptable to all sorts of cli- mates and situations, more ready to engage in all kinds of activity, more fertile in expedients, and more self-reliant in char- acter. The nation, on the other hand, which systematically seeks to enforce uni- formity of disposition among its members which kills out all non-conformists or drives them beyond its bordersis sure, in proportion to its success, to sink into an inferior position in the world. The establishment of the Inquisition in Spain and the expulsion of the Moriscoes were the two greatest calamities which any na- tion ever inflicted upon itself. In similar wise, by his senseless persecution of the Huguenots, Louis XIV. robbed France of a very rich and important element in na- tional life, and contributed such an ele- ment, in some degree, to England and Germany. These considerations begin to make it apparent why a people like the English, encountering a people like the French in some new part of the world, would natu- rally overcome or supplant it. Another circumstance implied in the same group of considerations will make this still more apparent. I said just now that the English alone have succeeded in working up to a highly complex form of civiliza- tion without essentially departing from the primitive Aryan principle of govern- ment. What we may call the town- meeting principle, with which we are so familiar as the logical basis of our own American political institutions, was essen- tially the principle on which the early Aryan communities governed themselves. The great puzzle of nation-making has al- ways been how to secure concerted action on a grand scale without sacrificing this principle of local self-government. The political failure of ancient Greece was the failure to secure concerted action on a suf- ficiently large scale. Rome succeeded in securing concert of action, but in so do- ing sacrificed to a great extent the princi- ple of local self-government. The Roman government came to be a close corpora- tion, administering the affairs of the em- pire through prefects and sub-prefects; and when we say that the Teutonic inva- sions infused new life into Roman Eu- rope, I suppose what we chiefly mean is that the Germans re-introduced ho some extent the town-meeting principle, and strengthened the sense of local and person- al independence. In England the prin- ciple of local self-government became so deeply rooted that it survived the over- throw of the feudal system; but in France the most thoroughly Romanized coun- try in Europeit never acquired a very firm foot-hold, and the overthrow of the feudal system there resulted in govern- ment by a close corporation and prefects, not altogether unlike that of the Roman Empire. Now it is one characteristic of these highly centralized forms of government by prefects that they are not easily trans- planted. They are highly artificial forms of government, in so far as they are the products of very peculiar combinations of circumstances operating for a long while in a particular country. When taken away from the peculiar sets of circum- stances in which they have originated, and introduced into a new field, they fall into decay, unless kept up by support from with- out. There is no natural principle of life within them. On the other hand, the town meeting, or the assembly of heads of families, is, so to speak, the primordial cell out of which the tissue of political life has been originally woven among all races and nations. The civilized government which has learned how to secure concert- ed action without forsaking this primor- dial principle contains an element of per- manence which is independent of pecul- iar local circumstances. Whithersoever transplanted, it will take root and flour- ish. It has all the reproductive vitality of cellular tissue, whereas the centralized bureaucracy is as rigid and unplastic as cartilage or bone. The force of these considerations is no- where better illustrated than in the con- trasted fortunes of the French and Eng- lish settlements in North America. The French colonies, as we have observed, 102 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. were planted in accordance with a far- reaching imperial policy, and they were favored by the especial solicitude of the home government, which well understood their value, and was bitterly chagrined when it became necessary to part with them. Louis XIV. in particular, whose long reign covered something like half of the brief history of New France, thought very highly of his American colonies, and labored industriously to promote their wel- fare. One of his pet schemes was to re- produce in the New World the political features of French society in Europe, mod- ifying them only so far as it was necessary in order to secure in the New France a bureaucratic despotism even more ideal- ly complete than that which had grown up in the old country. By a reminiscence of vanquished feudalism the land was par- celled out in seigniories, but the manage- ment of affairs was in the hands of a viceroy or governor-general appointed by the king. The instructions of the governor were pre- pared with extreme prolixity and minute- ness by the king and his ministers; and to insure his carrying them out in every par- ticular another officer was appointed, call- ed the intendant, whose principal business was to keep an eye on the governor, and tell tales about him to the minister of state at home. Another part of the intendants duty was to travel about the colony and pry into the affairs of every household, in order that whatever was wrong might be set right, and the wants of the people pro- vided for. We can imagine the wrath and the hooting which such an official would have provoked in any English colony that ever existed, but in Canada this sort of thing was thought to be quite proper. No enterprise of any sort was undertaken without an appeal to the king for aid. Bounties were attached to all kinds of trades, in order to encourage them, and at the same time it was attempted to pre- scribe, as far as possible, the exact per- centage of profit which might be legally earned. If people got out of work, they were to be supplied with work at the cost of the government. In order to foster a taste for ship-building, the king had ships built at his own expense, yet at the same time the ships which came over from France often went home empty, save those which by royal edict were allowed to car- ry furs or lumber. In order to encourage the raising of hemp, it was proposed that all hemp grown within the colony should be purchased by the king at a high price. To encourage agriculture in general, the king sent over seeds of all sorts to be dis- tributed among the farmers gratis, while the intendant went about to see that the seeds were duly planted. While native industry was thus sedulously fostered, for- eign trade was absolutely prohibited. No mild prohibitory tariff, such as our mod- ern protectionists advocate, was resorted to, but foreign goods were seized wherever found and solemnly burned in the streets. The interests of landed property were also looked after. As it is inconvenient that farms should be too small, no one living in the open country was to build a house on any piece of land less than a certain prescribed size, under penalty of seeing his house torn down at the next visit of the intendant. That the morals of these fa- vored farmers might remain uncorrupted by the splendid vices of great cities, they were forbidden to go to Quebec without permission from the intendant, and any one in the city who should let rooms to them was to be fined a hundred livres, for the benefit of the hospitals. In 1710 the inhabitants of Montreal were prohibited from owning more than two horses or mares and one foal apiece, on the ground that if they raised too many horses they would not raise enough cattle and sheep! With a thousand such arbitrary and foolish though well-meant regulations the people of Canada were hampered and re- stricted, so that, in spite of the natural advantages of the country for agricul- ture, for fisheries, and for the fur trade, there was nothing surprising in the facts that business of every kind languished, and that the population increased but slowly. The slowness of increase of the population early attracted the attention of the French government, which labored earnestly to counteract the evil. No in- habitant of Canada was allowed to visit the English colonies or to come home to France without express permission. Emi- grants for Canada were diligently enlist- ed in France, and sent over in ship-loads every year, being paid bounties for going. Women were sent over in companies of two or three hundred at a time, all care- fully sorted and selected as to social posi- tion, so that nobles, officers, bourgeois, and peasants might each find wives to suit them, and each of these prospective brides brought with her a dowry paid by the be- nevolent king. The arrival of these wo THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 103 men was generally preceded or accompa- nied by a royal order that all bachelors in the colony must get married within two weeks, nnder penalty of not being allowed to hunt, or catch fish, or trade with the Indians. Every father of a family who had unmarried sons over twenty years of age, or nnmarried daughters over sixteen, was subject to a fine unless he could show good cause for his delinquency. The fa- ther of ten children received a pension of three hundred livres a year for the rest of his life, while he who had twelve received four hundred, and people in the upper ranks of society who had fifteen children were rewarded with twelve hundred livres. Yet, in spite of all these elaborate devices, the white population of Canada, at the end of the reign of Louis XIV., in 1715, and more than a century after the founding of the colony, did not reach a total of twen- ty-five thousand. However absurd such a system of ad- ministration may seem to us, it was, after all, only the unflinching application of a theory of protective government which has had very wide currency in the world, and has found too many defenders even in our own self-governing community. The contemporary administration of af- fairs in France, even under the skillful leadership of Colbert, was characterized by many similar errors, and was fob lowed, indeed, in the course of another century, by military defeat, financial ruin, and social anarchy. Yet there is one important difference between the results of paternal government administered by a centralized bureaucracy in the country where it has grown up and in the country to which it is transplanted. In the native country of the bureaucracy a great many of the affairs of life are conducted in ac- cordance with usages established by im- memorial custom. Such usages have a cer- tain presumption in their favor, as adapted in some degree to the circumstances of the country; the bureaucracy must be to some extent checked or guided by them, and its capacity for mischief is so far limited. But when the same system of government is transplanted to a new coun- try, its course of procedure is largely a matter of experiment in pursuance of some general or a priori theory, and experi- ments of this sort have always failed. No government that has ever yet existed has possessed enough wisdom to found a pros- perous society by any amount of arbitra ry administration. When, therefore, the forms and machinery of a centralized despotism are sought to be reproduced away from their connections with the pe- culiar local traditions amid which they have grown up, it is but the dead husk that is transplanted instead of the living kernel. While the French colonies in America thus thrived so feebly in spite of the anx- ious care of their sovereign, the English colonies, neglected and left to themselves, were full of sturdy life. The settlers had been accustomed to manage their own af- fairs at home, instead of having them managed by prefects and intendants. If their king had ventured to deal with them as the benevolent Louis XIV. dealt with his subjects, they would have cut off his head or driven him into exile, or, failing the power to do this,would have gone into exile themselves. In New England they conducted themselves very much as they would have done in old England, save that they were much freer from interfer- ence. Having gone into voluntary exile themselves, they were relieved from the necessity of beheading the king or driving him into exile, and all they asked was to continue to be let alone. To sundry gen- eral commercial restrictions they submit- ted, especially so long as these restrictions were not enforced, but in all important de- tails each community managed its own af- fairs according to its own ideas of its own interests. Thus, in the words of our great historian, Mr. Parkman, the cement of common interests, hopes, and duties com- pacted the whole people like a rock of con- glomerate, while the people of New France remained in a state of political segregation, like a basket of pebbles held together by the inclosure that surrounds them. ,,~ In ecclesiastical policy the difference~ between the two peoples was as great as in their political and social life. Religion and the Church occupy as prominent a position in the history of Canada as in that of New England. There are few more heroic chapters in the annals of the Catholic Church than that which recounts the labors and the martyrdom of the Jes- uits in North America. Already, before~ the death of Champlain, the Jesuits ha4 acquired full control of the spiritual affairs of Canada. Their policy aimed at nothing less than the consolidation of the aborigi * Old R~gime, p. 3t~7. 104 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. nal tribes into a Christian state under the direct control of Loyola; and upon this hopelessly impracticable task they entered with an enthusiasm worthy of the noblest of the old Crusaders. The character of Maisonneuve claims a place in our affec- tionate remembrance by the side of Tan- cred and Godfrey de Bouillon. The charming chronicler Le Jeune might be mated with the Sieur de Joinville. Nor was St. Louis himself inspired with a grander fervor than the black - robed priests of the Huron mission. The in- domitable Brebeuf, the delicate Lalemant, the long-suffering Jogues, may be ranked with the ancient martyrs of Christianity, and in their heroic lives and deaths the system of Loyola appeared in its brightest and purest light. Though thrown away upon the Indians, the work of the Jesuits was, after all, the one feature of Canadian polity which possessed sufficient merit to survive the British conquest. Their poli- cy nevertheless involved the rigorous ex- clusion of all freedom of thought from the limits of the colony. No Huguenot was allowed to enter upon any terms. On the other hand, if we consider the Puritans alonewho also came to America for the purpose of realizing a religious ideaif we consider the Puritans alone, and recollect their treatment of the Quakers in Massa- chusetts and the Catholics in Maryland, we may perhaps at first regard their conduct as hardly more politic or conimendable than that of the Jesuits. But in truth the in- tolerance of the Puritans, being defensible only through appeals to individual rea- son, carried with it the promise of better things. Moreover, if we consider the Eng- lish colonies all together, the variety of opinion on religious questions was very great; so great that when they came to constitute themselves into a united nation, the only common ground upon which they could possibly meet in ecclesiastical matters was one of unqualified toleration. The heretic in whose face Canada coldly shut the door might be sure of a welcome in one part of English America if not in another. With all these advantages in their fa- vor, we need not be surprised at the solid and rapid increase of the English colonies. Yet the increase was surprising when com- pared with anything the world had ever seen before. We do not read that the King of England ever set bounties on large families, or provided wives for the settlers at his own expense. Yet by the year 1750 less than a century and a half from the settlement of Jamestownthe white popu- lation of the thirteen colonies had reached a million and a quarter. The contrast, therefore, with which we opened this lecture was but a superficial one. Great as were the territorial acqui- sitions of the French, their actual strength was by no means in proportion, and their project of confining the English behind the Alleghanies was as chimerical as would have been an attempt to stop the flow of the St. Lawrence. In carrying out their grand project the French relied largely upon their alliances with the Indians, and for this there was some show of reason. As a general thing the French were far more successful than the English in winning the favor of the savages. They treated them with a firm- ness and tact very different from the dis- dainful coldness of the English. They humored and cajoled them, even while in- spiring them with wholesome terror. The haughty and fiery Frontenac, most punc- tilious of courtiers, with the bluest blood of France flowing in his veins, at the age of seventy did not think it beneath his dignity to smear his cheeks with vermil- ion and caper madly about in the war- dance, brandishing a tomahawk over his head and yelling like a screech-owl or a cougar. Imagine Governor Winthrop or Governor Endicott acting such a part as this! On the other hand, if an Indian was arrested for murdering a Frenchman, he was hanged in a trice by martial law, and such summary justice the Indians feared and respected. But when an In- dian was arrested for murdering an Eng- lishman, he was put upon his trial, with all the safeguards of the English crimi- nal law, and such conscientious clemency the Indians despised as sentimental weak- ness. Captain Ecuyera Frenchman in the English service at the time of Pon- tiacs wargave an excellent illustration. of the Frenchmans native tact in dealing with his red brother. Ecuyer was in com- mand of Fort Pittwhere Pittsburgh now standsand an attacking force of Dela- wares summoned him to surrender, with sugared words, assuring him that if he would retreat to Carlisle, they would pro- tect him from some bad Indians in the neighborhood who thirsted for his blood; but if he staid, they would not be respon- sible for the consequences. Ecuyer thank- THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 105 ed them for their truly disinterested ad- vice, but assured them that he did not care a rush for the bad Indians, and meant to remain where he was; but, he added, an army of 6000 pale-faces is now on the way hither, and another of 3000 has just gone up the lakes to annihilate Pon- tiac, so you had better be off. I have told you this in acknowledgment of your friendly counsels to me; but dont whis- per it to those bad Indians, for fear they should run away from our deadly venge- ance ! This story of the English armies was, of course, a lie of the first magni- tude. The poor fellow had but a hand- ful of men wherewith to repel his swarm of assailants, and he knew very well that any re-enforcement was rather to be longed for than expected. But his adroit lie sent the savages a way in a panic without fur- ther provoking their wrath, and so was worth much more than a successful battle. Skillful as the French usually were in their dealings with the savages, their posi- tion in the country was nevertheless such that at an early period they were brought into conflict with the most warlike of all the Indian tribes, and this circumstance interfered materially with the success of the Canadian colony. In the seventeenth century the country east of the Mississippi, from the line of Tennessee and the Caro- linas northward to Hudson Bay, was oc- cupied by two families or races of Indians, differing radically from each other in their speech, and slightly in their physical characteristics. These were called by the French the Algonquin and Iroquois fam- ilies. Our old New England acquaint- ances the Pequods, Narragansetts, Mo- hegans, and Abenakiswere all Algon- quins. The Delawares, who lived in Vir- ginia, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, were also Algonquin& So were the Shawnees of the Ohio, the Miamis of the Wabash, the Illinois, the Kickapoos of Southern Wisconsin, the Pottawatomies and Ojib- was of Michigan, and the Ottawas of Michigan and Upper Canada. Lower Canada and Acadia were also inhabited by Algonquin tribes. In the central por- tion of this vast country, surrounded on every side by Algonquins, dwelt the Iro- quois. The so-called Five Nations occu- pied the central portion of New York; to the south of them were the Andastes or Susquehannocks; the Eries lived on the southern shore of the lake which bears their name, and the northern shore was occupied by a tribe known as the Neutral Nation. To the north of these came the Hurons. One Iroquois tribethe Tusca- roraslay quite apart from the rest, in North Carolina; but in 1715 this tribe mi- grated to New York, and joined the fa- mous Iroquois league, which was hence- forth known as the Six Nations. The In- dians south of the Tennessee and Caro- lina line, such as the Creeks, Cherokees, Seminoles, Choctaws, and Chickasaws, be- long to a third familythe Mobiliandis tinct from the Algonquins and Iroquois. The Natchez of the Lower Mississippi are supposed by some ethnologists to have been an intruding branch of the Mexican Toltecs. Far north, in Wisconsin, the well-known Winnebagos were also in- truders; they belonged to the Sioux or Dakota stock, whose home was then, as now, west of the great river. Between the Algonquins and the Iro- quois were many important differences. They differed radically, as already ob- served, in their speech. They differed also in their modes of building their wig- wams and fortifying their villages. The mythology of the Algonquins, moreover, was distinct from that of the Iroquois. There were many degrees of barbarism among the Algonquins, from the New England tribes, which cultivated the soil, down to the Ojibwas, who were very de- graded and shiftless savages. But the Iroquois were superior to any of the Al- gonquins. They were somewhat finer in physical appearance, and they were bet- ter fighters. They are said to have had somewhat larger brains; they understood more about agriculture; they were more capable of acting in concert. They were very well aware of their superiority, and looked down with ineffable contempt upon the Algonquins, by whom they were in turn regarded with hatred and fear. Of all the Iroquois the most formidable in numbers, the bravest in war, and the shrewdest in diplomacy were the Five Na- tions of New Yorkthe Mohawks, Onei- das, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas. The favorite Iroquois name for this mighty league is interesting. It was the custom of all the Iroquois tribes to build their wig- wams very long and narrow. Sometimes an Iroquois house would be two hundred and fifty feet in length by thirty in width, with a door at each end. A narrow open- ing along the whole length of the roof let in the light and let out some of the smoke 106 HARPERS N~W MONTHLY MAGAZINE. from the row of fires kindled on the ground beneath. A rude scaffolding ran along each side some three feet from the ground, and on this the inmates slept, while their fire-wood was piled underneath. In this way from twenty to thirty families might be lodged in a single wigwam. By a very picturesque metaphor the Iroquois of New York called their great confederacy the Long House. The Mohawks, at the Hud- son River, kept the eastern door of the Long House. and the Senecas, at the Genesee, guarded the western door, while the central council fire burned in the valley of Onon- daga, and was flanked to the right by the Oneidas, and to the left by the Cayugas. The ferocity of these New York Indians was as conspicuous as their courage, and their confederated strength made them more than a match for all their rivalsso that at the time of the first French and English settlements they were rapidly be- coming the terror of the whole country. Turning their arms first against their own kindred, in 1649 they overwhelmed and nearly destroyed the tribe of Hurons, put- ting the Jesuit missionaries to death with frightful tortures. Next they extermi- nated the Neutral Nation. In 1655 they massacred most of the Eries, and incorpo- rated the rest among their own numbers; and in 1672, after a terrible war of twen- ty years, they completed the ruin of the Susquehannocks. At the same time they made much easier work of their Algon- quin enemies. They drove the Ottawas from Canada into Michigan. They al- lied themselves with the Miamis, and over- threw the power of the Illinois in 1680, at the time when La Salle was making his adventurous journeys. They then turned upon the Miamis and defeated them, and drove the Shawnees a long way down the Ohio. Some time before this they had conquered the Delawares; and this cir- cumstance should be taken into account in considering the remarkable success of Penn and his followers in keeping clear of Indian troubles. A conciliatory policy had no doubt something to do with this, but it is not quite true that the Quakers were the only settlers who paid for their lands instead of taking them by force, for the Puritans of New England had done so in every case except that of the Pequods. It is worthy of consideration that at the time when Pennsylvania was colonized, the Delawares had been thoroughly hum- bled by the Iroquois, and forced into a treaty by which they submitted to be call- ed women, and to forego the use of arms. The price of the lands sold to Penn was paid twice overto the Delawares, who actually occupied them, and again to the Iroquois, who had obtained them by conquest. Thus the victors were kept in good-humor, and the vanquished Indians did not dare to molest the Quaker settle- ments for fear of Iroquois vengeance. But the Iroquois had a deeper reason for wishing to keep on good terms with i~he English. As early as the time of Champlain they had been brought into deadly collision with the French, who certainly had not yet learned the impor- tance of their friendship, and perhaps were not in a condition to secure it if they had. Settling first among the Algonquin tribes of the St. Lawrence, it was perhaps inevitable that the French should court the friendship of these tribes by defending them against their hereditary enemies. In 1609 Champlain attacked the Mohawks near Ticonderoga, and won an easy vic- tory over savages who had never before beheld a white man or heard the report of a musket. From that time forth the Iroquois hated the French, and after the destruction of the Huron mission the French had good reason for reciprocating the hatred. In 1664 the English sup- planted the Dutch in the control of the Hudson, and thus for the first time came into formidable proximity to Canada; and now began the rivalry between French and English which lasted for ninety-nine years. A sort of alliance naturally grew up between the English and the Five Na- tions, while, on the other hand, the French sought to control the policy of all the Al- gonquin tribes from the Penobscot to the Mississippi, and to bring them into the field against the dreaded warriors of the Long House. But there was a difference between these two alliances. The Eng- lish valued the friendship of the Iroquois partly as a protection against Canada, partly as a means of gaining access to the lakes, and obtaining a share in the fur trade; but in spite of all this, they took very little pains to conciliate their dusky allies, and generally left them to fight their own battles. On the other hand, the far-sighted policy of the French made firm allies of the Algonquin tribes and of the remnant of the Hurons, and taken to- gether they were more than a match for the Iroquois. Yet for a long time the THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 107 contest was by no means an unequal one. The Five Nations held their ground brave- ly, and at times seemed to be getting the best of it. They inflicted immense dam- age upon the Canadian settlements. From one end of the Long House the Mohawks were perpetually taking the war - path down Lake Champlain, while from the other the Senecas interrupted the fur trade on the western lakes, and the cen- tral tribes infested the Upper St. Law- rence. In the summer of 1689 they pen- etrated as far as Montreal, and shouted defiance to the garrison, while they laid waste the country for miles around, and roasted and devoured their prisoners in full sight of the terror - stricken town. This achievement, however, marked the acme of their success and of their power. The next year they had to reckon with a skillful and indomitable soldier in the person of Count Frontenac, and the fates were no longer propitious to them. Frontenac had already been Governor of New France for ten years, from 1672 to 1682. Court scandal said that he was a rival of Louis XIV. in the affections of Madame De Montespan, and that the jea- lous king had sent him over to America to get him out of the way. He was an able administrator, and a man of large views. He even saw the desirableness of introducing an element of local self-gov- ernment into the Canadian community, and strove to do so, though unsuccessful ly. He sympathized with La Salle in his adventurous schemes, and aided them to the extent of his ability. Had he been properly supported by the king, he might perhaps have carried out the bold sugges- tion of Talon, and wrested from the Eng- lish their lately acquired province of New York, thus isolating New England, and materially strengthening the grasp of France upon the American continent. But he unwisely made enemies of the Jesuits, and his fiery temper and implac- able stubbornness got him into so many quarrels that in 1682 he was ordered home. Now, after seven years of neglect, he was re-instated by the king, and Canada wel- comed him back as the only man who could save the country. No better man could have been chosen for the purpose. Though seventy years of age, he still re- tained something of the buoyancy of youth; in dauntless courage and fertility of resource he was not unlike his friend La Salle; and he was quite unrivalled in his knowledge of the dark and crooked ways of the Indian mind. At Frontenacs arrival the enmities of all the hostile parties, both red and white, encamped upon American soil, were all at once allowed free play. The tyrant James II. had just been driven into exile at Ver- sailles; and Louis XIV., unwilling to give up the check upon English policy which he had so long exercised through his as- cendency over the mean-spirited Stuarts, and enraged beyond measure at the sud- den accession of power now acquired by his arch-enemy William of OrangeLouis XIV., who had but lately revoked the Edict of Nantes, and committed himself to a deadly struggle with all the liberal tenden- cies of the age, now declared war against England. This, of course, meant war in the New World as well as the Old, and left the doughty Frontenac quite unham- pered in his plans for striking terror into the hearts of the foes of Canada. Frontenacs first proceeding was to send scalping parties against the English set- tlements, not merely to annoy the Eng- lish, but also to retrieve in the minds of his Indian allies and enemies the some- what shaken military reputation of the French. In February, 1690, a small party of Frenchmen and Algonquins from Mont- real, after a difficult march of three weeks through the snow, surprised Schenectady at midnight, and slaughtered some sixty of the inhabitants. In the following month a similar barbarous attack was made upon Salmon Falls, in New Hampshire; and shortly after, Fort Loyal, standing where now is the foot of India Street, in the city of Portland, experienced the same sort of treatment. In 1692, York was laid in ash- es, and one-third of the inhabitants mas- sacred. In 1694, two hundred and thirty Algonquins, led by one French officer and one Jesuit priest, surprised the village at Oyster Rivernow Durham, about twelve miles from Portsmouthand murdered one hundred and four persons, mostly women and children. Some of the un- happy victims were burned alive. Em- boldened by this success, the barbarians next attacked Groton, in Massachusetts, where they slew forty people. Similar excursions were made from year to year. In 1697, a raid was made on Haverhill, when the celebrated Hannah Dustin was taken prisoner. The incidents of her bold escape, and the ghastly vengeance which she wreaked upon her captors, are known 108 HALIPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. to all school-children, though school-chil- dren are not always taught to associate these incidents with Count Frontenac, or with the expulsion of the Stuart kings from Great Britain. Such barbarous war- fare as this does not redound to the credit of Frontenac, though personally he seems to have been humane and generous ac- cording to the standards of his age and country. The delightful Jesuit historian Charlevoix recounts these massacres of the heretical Puritans with emphatic ap- proval. In New England they awaken- ed intense horror and indignation. It was resolved to attack Canada. In 1690, after the massacres at Salmon Falls and Fort Loyal, two thousand Massachusetts militia, under Sir William Phips, actually sailed up the St. Lawrence and laid siege to Quebec; while Winthrop, of Connecti- cut, started from Albany to create a diver- sion on the side of Montreal. But these amateur generals were no match for Fron- tenac, and both expeditions returned home crest-fallen with disastrous defeat. Massa- chusetts, loaded with a debt of fifty thou- sand pounds, was obliged for a time to is- sue paper money: it is pleasant to be able to add thatas there was no Greenback party in those daysthis scrip was all scrupulously redeemed, without a word of opposition from anybody. In the follow- ing year, Peter Schuyler, with a force of New York militia and Mohawks, descend- ed Lake Champlain, and defeated the French in a fierce and obstinate battle; but nothing came of the victory, and the end of the campaign left Frontenac master of the situation. Having thus successfully defied the Eng- lish, and won a mighty reputation among his Algonquin allies, the veteran govern- or was now prepared to chastise the Iro- quois. In 1693, a small French army un- der Courtemanche overran the Mohawk country and destroyed several towns, re- treating after a drawn battle with Peter Schuyler. In 1696, Frontenac himself, at the head of two battalions of French regu- lars, 800 Canadian militia, and a swarm of screeching Hurons and Ottawas, cross- ed Lake Ontario, and battered down, so to speak, the centre of the Long House. Carried in triumph on the shoulders of the exulting Indians, the old general, now in his seventy-seventh year, advanced boldly into the sacred precincts of the Ononda- gas, whither white men had never yet set foot save as envoys on the most danger- ous of missions, or as prisoners to be burned at the stake. Most of the Onondaga war- riors fled in dismay, but their towns were utterly destroyed, all their winter stores captured, and their whole country laid waste. A similar punishment was then inflicted upon the Oneidas, and the mot- ley army returned to Canada, taking along with them a great number of war chiefs as hostages. In the following year the Iroquois, cowed by defeat and famine, sent an embassy to Quebec to see if they could make a separate peace with the French, without engaging to keep their hands off the Algonquins. But Fronte- nac flung their wampum belt back into their faces, and demanded unconditional submission, under penalty of worse treat- ment than they had yet experienced. In February, 1698, the news of the Peace of Ryswick ended the war, so far as the French and English were concerned. In November of the same year Frontenac died at Quebec, bitterly hated by his rivals and enemies, dreaded and admired by the Indians, idolized by the common people, and respected by all for his probity and his soldierly virtues. His stormy admin- istration had been fruitful of benefits to Canada. By humbling the Iroquois the French ascendency over all the Indian tribes was greatly increased. During the merciless campaigns of the past ten years the Long House had lost more than half of its warriors, and was left in such a state of dilapidation and dejection that Canada had but little to fear from it in future. In 1715, the fighting strength of the confed- eracy was partially repaired by the adop- tion of the kindred tribe of the Tuscaroras, who had just been expelled from North Carolina by the English settlers, and mi- grated to New York. After this accession the Iroquois, henceforth known as the Six Nations, formed a power by no means to be despised. But their haughty spirit was so far broken that they became ac- cessible to the arts of French diplomacy, and at times they were almost persuaded to make common cause with the other Indian tribes against the English. That they did not finally forsake the English alliance was perhaps chiefly due to the extraordi- nary ascendency acquired over them by Sir William Johnson, an Irishman who came over to America in 1734, and set- tled in the Mohawk Valley, building two strongholds there, known as Johnson Cas- tle and Johnson Hall. Acquiring wealth THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 1o1~ by trade with the Indians of New York, and political importance through his skill in managing them, Johnson was made a major-general in 1755, and defeated the French at Lake George in that year, and at Niagara in 1759. He was made a bar- onet for his services, and died in 1774, as some say through grief at the impending prospect of war between his sovereign and his fellow-citizens. It was his son, Sir John Johnson, who led the Tories of Tryon County against the valiant Herkimer at the obstinate battle of Oriskany in 1777. Freed from the attacks of the Iroquois, Canada, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, entered upon a period of compar- ative prosperity, and during the first half of the century she continued to be a thorn in the side of New England. Before the final conflict began, France and England were at war from 1702 to 1713, and again from 1741 to 1748, a total of eighteen years, and during most of these years the New England frontier was exposed to sav- age inroads. There was an atrocious mas- sacre at Deerfield in 1704, and another at Haverhill in 1708, and at all times there was terror on the frontier. Even in time of peace the Indians did not wholly cease from their incursions, and there is little doubt that their turbulence was secretly fomented by the Canadian government. In 1745, the indignant New - Englanders tasted for a moment the sweets of legiti- mate revenge. The strongest and most important fortress of the French in Amer- ica, next to Quebec, was Louisburg, on Cape Breton Island, which commanded the fisheries aid the approaches to the St. Lawrence. At the instance of Governor Shirley, three thousand volunteers were raised by Massachusetts, three hundred by New Hampshire, three hundred by Rhode Island, and five hundred by Connecticut. The whole force was commanded by Will- iani Pepperell, a merchant of Maine. With the assistance of four English ships of the line, they laid siege to Louisburg on May- day, 1745, and pressed the matter so vig- orously that on the 17th of Junejust thirty years before the battle of Bunker Hillthe French commander was brow- beaten into surrendering his almost im- pregnaUe fortress. The gilt cross over the new entrance to Harvard College Li- brary is a trophy of this memorable ex- ploit, which not only astonished the world, but saved New England from a contemplated French invasion. Greatly to the chagrin of the American colonies, the Treaty of Aix - la - Chapelle restored Louisburg to the French, in exchange for Madras, in Hindostan, which France had taken from England. The men of New England felt that their services were held cheap, and were much irritated at the preference accorded by the British govern- ment to its general imperial interests at the expense of its American colonies. A great war had now become inevita- ble. By the Treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, Acadia had been ceded to England, but neither this treaty nor that of Aix-la- Chapelle, in 1748, defined the boundary between Acadia and Maine, nor did either treaty do anything toward settling the eastern limits of Louisiana. The Penob- scot Valley furnished one ever-burning question, and the New York frontier an- other. The dispute over the Ohio Valley was the fiercest of all, and from this quar- ter at last arose the conflagration which swept away all the hopes of French colo- nial empire in two hemispheres. In 1750, the Ohio Company, formed for the pur- pose of colonizing the valley, had survey- ed the country as far as the present site of Louisville. In 1753, the French, taking the alarm, crossed Lake Erie, and began to fortify themselves at Presque Isle, and at Venango on the Alleghany River. This aroused the ire of Virginia, and George Washington a venturous and hardy youth of twenty-one, but gifted with a sa- gacity beyond his yearswas sent by Gov- ernor Dinwiddie to Venango to order off the trespassers. Washington got scanty comfort from this mission; but the next spring both French and English tried to forestall each other in fortifying the all- important place where the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers join to form the Ohio, the place where the city of Pittsburgh now stands. In the course of these pre- liminary mancnuvres, Washington fought his first battle at Great Meadowsthough as yet war had not been declared between France and Englandand being attacked by an overwhelmingly superior force, was obliged to surrender, with the whole of his little army. So the French got possession of the much-coveted situation, and erected there Fort Duquesne as a menace to all fu- ture English intruders. In 1755, war was at length declared, and it was in attempt- ing to reach Fort Duquesne that the un- wary Braddock was slain, and his army so wofully defeated by swarms of Otta 110 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. was, Hurons, and Delawares, which the proaches to the Hudson; and in 1758 he Frenchmens forest diplomacy had skill- defeated the English with heavy loss in fully gathered together. the desperate battle of Ticonderoga. The war thus inauspiciously begun The victory of Ticonderoga was, how- was not confined to American soil. Aft- ever, the last considerable success of the er three-quarters of a century of vague French arms in this war. The stars had skirmishing, England was now prepared begun to fight against them, and with the to measure her strength with France in a exception of this brief gleam of triumph, decisive struggle for colonial empire and their career for the next two years was an for the lordship of the sea. The whole unbroken succession of disasters. In 1758, world was convulsed with the struggle of the French fleets were totally defeated by the Seven Years Wara war more mo- Admiral Osborne off Cartagena, and by inentous in its consequences than any that Admiral Pococke in the Indian Ocean, had ever yet been carried on between rival while their great squadron destined for European powers; a war made illustrious North America was driven ashore in the by the genius of one of the greatest gen- Bay of Biscay by Sir Edward Hawke. In erals, and of perhaps the very greatest Germany, their army was defeated by the war minister, the world has ever seen. It Prince of Brunswick, at Crefeld, in June. was an evil hour for French hopes of co- In July, Sir Jeffrey Amherst captured lonial empire when the invincible prow- Louisburg, and finally relieved New Eng- ess of Frederick the Great was allied with land from its standing menace, besides se- the far-sighted policy of William Pitt. curing the mouth of the St. Lawrence. In the autumn of 1757, shortly after the In August, General Bradstreet, by the de- Great Commoner was intrusted with the struction of Fort Frontenac, broke the direction of the foreign affairs of Eng- communication between Canada and the land, the King of Prussia annihilated the French settlements in the West. In No- French army at Rossbach, and thusto vember, General Forbes, having built a say nothing of the immediate results road over the Alleghanies, and, being as- prepared the way for Waterloo and Se- sisted by Washington and Henry Bouquet, dan, and for the creation of a united and succeeded in capturing Fort Duquesne, independent Germany. Yet, in spite of which then became Fort Pitt, and now as this overwhelming victory, the united Pittsburgh still bears the name of the great strength of France and Austria and IRus- war minister. sia would at last have proved too much The capture of this important post gave for the warlike king, had not England the English the control of the Ohio Val- thrown sword and purse into the scale iii ley; but Pitt had now made up his mind his favor. By his firm and energetic sup- to drive the French from America alto- port of Prussia, Pitt kept the main strength gether, and what had been done was only of France busily occupied in Europe, the prelude to heavier blows. In 1759, while English fleets attacked her on the the French army in Germany was totally ocean, and English armies overran her defeated at Minden by the Prince of Bruns- possessions in America, and wrested from wick; one great fleet was defeated at La- her grasp the control of India, which she gos Bay by Admiral Boscawen, and anoth- was also seeking to acquire. er was annihilated at Quiberon by Sir Ed- At the time of Pitts accession to power, ward Hawke; Havre was bombarded by affairs were not going on prosperously in Admiral Rodney; Guadeloupe, the most America. The crushing defeat of Brad- valuable of the French West Indies, was dock had, indeed, been followed by the taken; and serious reverses were experi- victory of Johnson over Dieskau at Lake enced in India. In America, Niagara was George. But this victory did more harm taken on the 24th of July, Ticonderoga on than good; for Johnson remained inactive the 27th, and Crown Point on the 1st of after it, and Dieskau, having been taken August. And on the 13th of September prisoner, was succeeded by the famous the youthful Wolfe accomplished his won- Marquis of Montcalm, a general of great derful feat of leading five thousand arm- ability, who resumed offensive operations ed men up an almost perpendicular preci- with vigor and success. In 1756 Mont- pice, and won the decisive battle which calm destroyed Oswego; in 1757 he cap- completed the ruin of the French domin- tured Fort William Henry, which John- ion in America. Montreal surrendered in son had built to defend the northern ap- the following year, and thus the whole of THE OVERTHROW OF THE FRENCH POWER IN AMERICA. 111 Canada passed into the hands of the Eng- lish. During the progress of this eventful war, the tribes of the Long House, under the influence of Sir William Johnson, had either remained neutral, or had occasion- ally assisted the English cause. The Al- gonquin tribes, however, from east to westincluding even the Delawares, who, since the decline of the Iroquois power, no longer consented to call themselves womenmade common cause with the French, and in many cases proved very formidable allies. The overthrow of the French power came as a terrible shock to these Indians, who now found themselves quite unprotected from English encroach- ment. At first they refused to believe that the catastrophe was irretrievable, and one great Indian conceived a plan for retriev- ing it. Of all the Indians of whom we have any record, perhaps Pontiac, chief of the Ottawas, was the most remarkable for intellectual power. He was as fierce and treacherous as any of his race, but he was characterized by an intellectual curiosity very rare among barbarians, and he exhibited an amount of fore- thought truly wonderful in an Indian. It seemed to him that if all the tribes in the country could be brought to unite in one grand attack upon the English, they might perhaps succeed in overthrowing them. He did, in fact, succeed in form- ing a powerful combination, comprising all the Algonquin tribes, with some of the Mobilians and the remnant of the Hu- rons; and out of the Iroquois League he secured the most numerous tribe, the Senecas, who were least under English influence. The war began in 1763, just after peace had been signed between France and England, and lasted two years. In the course of it the most terri- ble battle ever fought between white men and Indians occurred at Bushy Run, in the Alleghanies; the frontiers of Pennsyl- vania were made the scene of atrocities which beggar description; and most of the forest garrisons in the West were over- come and massacred, though the stronger places, such as Detroit and Fort Pitt, suc- ceeded with some difficulty in holding out. But the Shawnees and Delawares were completely humbled by Bouquet, the vic- tor of Bushy Bun, the Senecas were brow- beaten by Johnson, the French refused to give any assistance, and finally Pontiac, after suing for peace, was murdered in the woods at Cahokia, near St. Louis. Useless butchery was all that came of this scheme; but it is worthy of mention as a natural se- quel of the great French war, as the most serious attempt ever made by the Indians to assert themselves against white men, and as the theme of one of the most brill- iant and fascinating books that has ever been written by any historian since the days of Herodotus.* The Seven Years~ War did not come to an end until Spain, afraid for her West Indian possessions, had taken up arms on the side of France. She thus invited the catastrophe which she dreaded, for in 1762 England conquered Cuba and the Philip- pine Islands. At the definitive treaty of peace ,,known as the Peace of Paris, and signed in February, 1763, England gave back Cuba and the Philippine Islands to Spain in exchange for Florida. To indem- nify Spain for this loss of Florida, incurred through her alliance with France, the lat- ter power ceded to Spain the town of New Orleans and all of Louisiana west of the Mississippia vast and ill-defined region, as thoroughly unknown at that day as Australia or Central Africa. From 1763 until 1803 New Orleans and St. Louis were accordingly governed by Spaniards. In 1803 this vast region was ceded by Spain to Bonaparte, who sold it to the United States for $15,000,000. Florida, on the other hand, was returned to Spain by England at the close of the Revolutionary war, and was afterward, in 1819, bought from Spain by the United States. All of Louisiana east of the Mississippi except New Orleans, and all of Canada, were at the Peace of Paris surrendered to England, so that not a rood of land in all North America remained to France. France also renounced all claim upon In- dia, and it went without saying that Eng- land and not France was now to be mis- tress of the sea. It may be said of the Treaty of Paris that no other treaty ever transferred such an immense portion of the earths surface from one nation to another. But such a statement, after all, gives no adequate idea of the enormous results which the genius of English liberty had for ages been pre- paring, and which had now found definite expression in the policy of William Pitt. The 10th of February, 1763, might not un * I refer, of course, to Parkmans History of the Conspiracy of Pontiac. 112 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. fitly be celebrated as the proudest day in the history of England. For on that day it was made clearhad any one had eyes to discern the future, and read between the lines of this portentous treatythat she was destined to become the revered mo- ther of many free and enlightened na- tions, all speaking the matchless language which the English Bible has forever con- secrated, and earnest in carrying out the sacred ideas for which Latimer suffered and Hampden fought. It was proclaimed on that day that the institutions of the Roman Empire, however useful in their time, were at last outgrown and super- seded, and that the guidance of the world was henceforth to be not in the hands of imperial bureaus or papal conclaves, but in the hands of the representatives of hon- est labor, and the preachers of righteous- ness, unhampered by ritual or dogma. The independence of the United States was the first great lesson which was drawn from this solemn proclamation. Our own history is to-day the first extended com- mentary which is gradually unfolding to men~ s minds the latent significance of the compact by which the vanquished Old R& gime of France renounced its pretensions to guide the world. In days to come, the lesson will be taken up and reiterated by other great communities planted by Eng- land, in Africa, in Australia, and the isl- ands of the Pacific, until barbarous sacer- dotalism and despotic privilege shall have vanished from the face of the earth, and the principles of Protestantism, rightly un- derstood, and of English self-government, shall have become forever the undisputed possession of all mankind. MONEY-MAKING FOR LADIES. J WISH I knew how to make some I money, says Ysolte of the white hands. She has possibly painted some marine views on large white clam-shells, and offered them to a shop-keeper on com- mission, under cover of a thick veil, and with a guilty manner that half aroused the mans suspicions as to whether, like the wares of the brush-maker who under- sold his neighbor, they had not been stolen ready-made. Ysolte sympathizes with the crumpet- woman who hoped to goodness no one heard her; but the public do not seem to appreciate works of art on clam - shell backgroundsat least the public who fre quent Mr. Joness stationery store; and the Decorative Art Society is equally un- enlightened, having declined them with a kind letter advising the artist to study Art. What, then, shall Ysolte do? Her case is undoubtedly hard. She lacks a new silk dress, means to purchase Christmas presents, and various comforts and belong- ings of civilized life; but hope may per- haps be found for her and for the rest of that numerous class who, while not obliged to enter the ranks of recognized working- women, yet feel the need of increasing a limited income. How a lady can make money and not lose social caste is a ques- tion of absorbing interest, but one that is seldom answered satisfactorily. People want things to do, said some one lately, and yet there are a hundred things waiting for some one to do them. The difficulty is to get them done properly. Among the money-making occupations pursued by ladies, that of taking boarders affords an illustration. To take boarders for an absolute dependence in the way of support is probably as harassing an occu- pation as can well be found, especially with the risk of hiring a large house and furnishing it for the purpose. A great deal, however, can be said on both sides. The case is not so difficult with the owner or occupant of her own house, who, hav- ing room that can be very well spared, chooses to diminish her household ex- penses by adding to the number of the inmates. It increases her cares also, but money can not be made in any way with- out effort of some kind, and this method seems preferable to ordinary teaching or sewing. To succeed, however, in taking and en- tertaining boarders, either on a large or a small scale, requires good housekeeping, and what may be called a gift of econ- omy, which does not mean providing poor things, but getting the most for ones mon- ey. An economical housekeeper who un- derstands her business will furnish a good table with a sum which, in the hands of one who thinks only of saving money, would produce the most unsatisfactory re- sults. The manner of cooking and serv- ing food has quite as much to do with its attractiveness as the quality of the pur- chases made; half-cooked ~regetables, and meats scorched without and raw within, can never be inviting, whatever the origi- nal cost or quality may have been.

112 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. fitly be celebrated as the proudest day in the history of England. For on that day it was made clearhad any one had eyes to discern the future, and read between the lines of this portentous treatythat she was destined to become the revered mo- ther of many free and enlightened na- tions, all speaking the matchless language which the English Bible has forever con- secrated, and earnest in carrying out the sacred ideas for which Latimer suffered and Hampden fought. It was proclaimed on that day that the institutions of the Roman Empire, however useful in their time, were at last outgrown and super- seded, and that the guidance of the world was henceforth to be not in the hands of imperial bureaus or papal conclaves, but in the hands of the representatives of hon- est labor, and the preachers of righteous- ness, unhampered by ritual or dogma. The independence of the United States was the first great lesson which was drawn from this solemn proclamation. Our own history is to-day the first extended com- mentary which is gradually unfolding to men~ s minds the latent significance of the compact by which the vanquished Old R& gime of France renounced its pretensions to guide the world. In days to come, the lesson will be taken up and reiterated by other great communities planted by Eng- land, in Africa, in Australia, and the isl- ands of the Pacific, until barbarous sacer- dotalism and despotic privilege shall have vanished from the face of the earth, and the principles of Protestantism, rightly un- derstood, and of English self-government, shall have become forever the undisputed possession of all mankind. MONEY-MAKING FOR LADIES. J WISH I knew how to make some I money, says Ysolte of the white hands. She has possibly painted some marine views on large white clam-shells, and offered them to a shop-keeper on com- mission, under cover of a thick veil, and with a guilty manner that half aroused the mans suspicions as to whether, like the wares of the brush-maker who under- sold his neighbor, they had not been stolen ready-made. Ysolte sympathizes with the crumpet- woman who hoped to goodness no one heard her; but the public do not seem to appreciate works of art on clam - shell backgroundsat least the public who fre quent Mr. Joness stationery store; and the Decorative Art Society is equally un- enlightened, having declined them with a kind letter advising the artist to study Art. What, then, shall Ysolte do? Her case is undoubtedly hard. She lacks a new silk dress, means to purchase Christmas presents, and various comforts and belong- ings of civilized life; but hope may per- haps be found for her and for the rest of that numerous class who, while not obliged to enter the ranks of recognized working- women, yet feel the need of increasing a limited income. How a lady can make money and not lose social caste is a ques- tion of absorbing interest, but one that is seldom answered satisfactorily. People want things to do, said some one lately, and yet there are a hundred things waiting for some one to do them. The difficulty is to get them done properly. Among the money-making occupations pursued by ladies, that of taking boarders affords an illustration. To take boarders for an absolute dependence in the way of support is probably as harassing an occu- pation as can well be found, especially with the risk of hiring a large house and furnishing it for the purpose. A great deal, however, can be said on both sides. The case is not so difficult with the owner or occupant of her own house, who, hav- ing room that can be very well spared, chooses to diminish her household ex- penses by adding to the number of the inmates. It increases her cares also, but money can not be made in any way with- out effort of some kind, and this method seems preferable to ordinary teaching or sewing. To succeed, however, in taking and en- tertaining boarders, either on a large or a small scale, requires good housekeeping, and what may be called a gift of econ- omy, which does not mean providing poor things, but getting the most for ones mon- ey. An economical housekeeper who un- derstands her business will furnish a good table with a sum which, in the hands of one who thinks only of saving money, would produce the most unsatisfactory re- sults. The manner of cooking and serv- ing food has quite as much to do with its attractiveness as the quality of the pur- chases made; half-cooked ~regetables, and meats scorched without and raw within, can never be inviting, whatever the origi- nal cost or quality may have been. MONEY-MAKING FOR LADIES. 113 As a general thin g, there is a sort of airy unconcern about those who take boarders, in regard to all matters not ab- solutely down in the bond, which is highly exasperating; and considering all things, the wonder is not that so many fail in this calling, but that any succeed. Were it not that there is always an abun- dant supply of homeless people in the world, landladies who trouble themselves only about what is barely necessary, and do even that in an inefficient way, would oftener find that it doesnt pay to take boarders. How often, for instance, does any one looking for board chance to find a room that has a home look about it? Do not the apartments generally shown look as if some one had just died there, and ev- erything had been dismantled in conse- quence? Not a bit of drapery to bed or windows, not a bracket or a table cover, not a cushion or footstool. The four walls are thereoften with an ugly pa- per on themwith the orthodox bedstead and bureau and chairs, possibly a bard lounge, but probably none at all. What possibilities of cheerfulness are there in such a room, if the occupants have no furniture of their own with which to brighten it? But we cant afford to ornament rooms, say the struggling landladies; it wouldnt pay. We can scarcely make both ends meet as it is. This is just where they make a mis- take, because it would pay. It would pay to drape the windows with cheap but tasteful curtainsthose of white muslin, cretonne, nubleached muslin, Canton flan- nel, or low - priced worsted stuffs being particularly serviceable for winter to drape the mantel with the same, and to have a table cover that matches or har- monizes. A lounge improvised from a packing - box, with springs and a small husk mattress over them, could be cover- ed to suit the draperies. A few touches of this kind would completely transform a bare, ugly room into something home- like, and the small outlay required would certainly be returned tenfold. A lady who desires to receive into her family one additional inmate, as a means of increasing her income, will find no dif- ficulty, if she reside in the city, in obtain- ing a desirable lady or gentleman boarder willing to pay liberally for home com- forts. Many such people detest boarding- voL. Lxv.~o. 355.8 houses, and would willingly dispense with a great variety at the table for the sake of having what is put upon it made inviting. Even so simple a thing as the popular breakfast dish of oatmeal is seldom cook- ed so as to be fit to eat. Often placed upon the table half raw, because so few cooks seem to understand the immense amount of moderate boiling or simmering that it requires, it quite deserves the name of chicken feed facetiously bestowed upon it. It can be made, though, a very delicate and nourishing dishbearing in mind the fact that cream or good rich milk is its natural congener. It is not necessary, however, to go into the details of breakfast, dinner, and tea dishes, a passing allusion to the causes of failure on the part of those who attempt to take boarders being sufficient for our purpose. The assertion can easily be proved from facts that more people are looking fruitlessly for home-like quarters than there are people having such quar- ters to offer. It follows, therefore, that any one who will furnish something more attractive than is usually offered will have no reason to complain of want of success. The housekeeper has many advantages in the way of money-making which the occupant of a room in some one elses house does not enjoy. Pickling and pre- serving, pie and cake making, naturally suggest themselves in this connection, and why should not the toothsome deli- cacies so lavishly displayed on the home table for the admiration and enjoyment of friends be also regarded as a source of revenue? Store preserves are apt to be insipid; and canned peaches from the same source invariably require more sugar as well as more cooking before they are fit for the table. Preserves that could be manu- factured at the same cost, and yet be free from these defects, would not fail of find- ing a ready market as soon as their merits were known; and the housekeeper with- out much money to risk could easily try a few jars at first, which she would doubt- less need for home consumption in case of their not being sold. Happy is she who can say, even if it is a travesty, I know a bank where the wild raspberries grow, for the capabilities of this fruit in the way of preserving are infinite, and wild rasp- 114 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. berries have the advantage over those which are cultivated of belonging to any one who will gather them. Raspberry jam affords an inexhaustible fund for tarts, puddings, jelly-cakes, ices, etc., and too much of it can scarcely be made. Raspberry syrup makes a deliciously cool- ing drink, and raspberry jelly is a fine bit of color for the eye, and peculiarly acceptable to the palate. Blackberries, too, are valuable in their way, though somewhat unpleasantly seedy, and they are eminently popular in the shape of jam and jelly and syrup. Strawberry preserves are delicious; peach- es are taken for granted; plums, the dark blue ones, are the most delightful combi- nation of tart and sweet that can be man- ufactured. But does any one ever see them in the shape of preserves for sale? And where, with the fullest of purses, can one buy quince marmalade? You can get guava marmalade, which has to be brought from the tropics, in abundance, and candied limes; but where is quince marmalade, for which the ingredients may be gathered almost at our very doors, to be found? The fruit and the sugar are waiting in separate places for some enter- prising woman to put them together, and superintend them safely to the triumphant conclusion of marmalade. Candied orange peel might also be in- cluded in the list with advantage. In some families it is successfully made for home consumption, and is deservedly pop- ular, but it is not often found for sale, and would probably prove quite profitable. Other things will suggest themselves after making a beginning, and as a little suc- cess is a dangerous thing, the elated ama- teur may find herself disposed to preserve everything she can lay her hands on. It is not for a moment to be supposed that ladies are advised in these pages to enter into competition with the large can- ning and preserving establishments that do their work by machinery, and fill every market with it at very moderate prices, but merely to produce superior home- made articles for a home market. Home-made pies, such as our mothers used to make, are harder to find than four- leaved clovers, and the manufacture of such viands for profit ought to be attend- ed with a fair amount of success. Some years ago a woman bought a farm with the proceeds of pie-making, but she sold her wares herself, and hired no assistants. If a lady has deft fingers with pie-crust, and makes plump, juicy pies of apples in slices, well cooked, and flavored with cin- namon and orange peel, those of pump- kin deep, moist, and good every way, and others in their season, there would be no difficulty, after perhaps a little patient waiting, in finding a ready sale for them. People would flock after Mrs. s home- made pies as they would after Mrs. s home - made preserves, and the change from strong butter in the paste and very little of anything inside to crust of flaky sweetness and liberal filling could scarcely fail of being appreciated. At first, perhaps, the profits might scarcely pay for the trouble; but a little practice would soon teach one how to buy the materials in quantities at a saving, and to use them with discretion. In the city a person could easily be hired to carry the pies about for sale; and there are many business places in which they would be warmly welcomed at lunch-time, especially if made in the form of tarts and turn-overs. An enter- prising lady could really do well, when her pies became popular, and yet no one has tried the experiment, or at least to any extent; that is, good home-made pies have not been offered for sale in this way; and because poor ones have not been particu- larly popular, there is no reason for dis- couragement where good ones are con- cerned. This is the day of cheap restaurants, when pavement boys, venders of news- papers, boot-blacks, and the like, can get a comfortable meal for a few cents; and in far down-town localities, where business men congregate, a dime or two will pro- cure good meat, milk, bread, and some- thing quite praiseworthy in the way of dessert. But for ladies there are no such establishments. The down-town places are too far off; and within a reasonable dis- tance for shopping there are only the con- fectioners, with high prices and unsatisfac- tory food. Would it not be a profitable undertaking to inaugurate a lunching place for ladies on an entirely new basis, the strong point to be coffee, supplement- ed by home-made bread, both white and brown? This coffee, of the best quality, should be made in the best manner, al- ways served fresh and hot. The bread and butter, too, must be essentially differ- ent from those articles as usually found in restaurantshome-made and delicious. MONEY-MAKING FOR LADIES. 115 A small sum of money would suffice to start so modest an establishment, which might at first consist of but one room, with a curtain across the end to conceal the lit- tle stove with its coffee apparatus, the bread being made at home and carried there. It would be an experiment, but not on a very large scale, and the returns would come in daily. The bill of fare could easily be extended if desirable, and the undertaking really seems to offer a promising field for some pioneer to occupy. But, remonstrates Ysolte, helplessly, I am not a housekeeper, and can not set up a restaurant. What is there, then, for me ~ Illustrated shells and china - painting are so common, plaques are multiplying upon the face of the earth with frightful celerity, and panels are decorated in al- most every known and unknown device. Exceptionally beautiful work of this kind is always well paid; but among the quan- tities offered for sale the stamp of genius is not often found. There are remuner- ative prices of work, however, for those who know how to produce pleasing ef- fects with colors, and who are yet un- able, and should not attempt, art work of the highest order; painted buttons, and dinner cards, and squares of silk for fan- cy articles, with other trivialities, being often in demand. Teaching, notwithstanding its cares and anxieties and wearisome routine, has al- ways been a popular employment with the educated, chiefly because it is one of the few employments in which a lady may openly engage without tue least compro- mise of her social standing. Classes and lessons are more desirable than regular employment in a school or family, and a large country town is perhaps the most promising field for such engagements. Music lessons generally afford the best pay, and almost every well-to-do mechan- ic is anxious above all things that his daughter should learn to play on the pi- ano-forte. Designing, drawing, engraving, etc., may be made more or less remunerative, according to the ability of the worker; but of all the decorative arts, there is one for which ladies are peculiarly fitted, but with which they have as yet had very lit- tle to do. When a house, the very cen- tre of a womans kingdom, and the place where she spends most of her time, is to be furnished and decorated, men are call- ed in to decide what hues shall prevail, what hangings and carpets and other be- longings shall meet my ladys eyes day after dayoften what pictures shall hang upon her walls, what books shall come like silent friends to take up their abode with her. This is not a mans business at all, but a womans, and if well conducted it might be made a very remunerative one. Shopping on commission is, for those who succeed in it, highly profitable, and affords a pleasant excitement in receiving letters and selecting pretty things. There is a positive charm in spending money, even if it is other peoples, and the shop- per by proxy enjoys this to its fullest ex- tent. People living in the city, as well as those living in the country, are some- times glad to have their shopping done for them, as it spares them much labor and perplexity, especially those who are conscious of their deficiencies in taste and judgment. The commission charged to purchasers is five per cent., and merchants usually allow a discount of from six to ten per cent. to shoppers on commission. This makes a very handsome return to those who have a satisfactory amount of orders. A lady who attended to this department in connection with a fashion periodical was in the receipt of a hundred dollars a month from this source alone; but she complains that within the last two or three years the business has very materially de- clined, so that small orders and occasion- al ones are the rule now. She attributes this state of things partly to the fact that all the dry-goods houses will now send samples of their wares to the remotest ends of the earth, and the resident of Kam- tchatka or the Philippine Islands has only to send waist and bust measure, length of skirt, etc., to insure a perfectly fitting suit in the latest fashion, as soon as it can be made by steam, and transported to its destination in the same way. Some ladies quietly do shopping for their friends, and receive the same com- mission as if they were regularly in the business. This is much pleasanter if one can obtain enough orders to answer the purpose. No outlay is required for ciren- lars or advertising, and one can feel sure where known of giving satisfaction. Their friends, too, can speak of theni to others, so that by degrees sufficient occu- pation will be found for all leisure hours. In the country, money can always be 116 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. made from a small garden by raising ve- getables, flowers, and fruit, which, if of good quality, will invariably command a ready market; and in spite of Mr. War- ners well-known witticism about the ne- cessity of a cast-iron back with a hinge, in agricultural pursuits, there are many wo- men who do all but the very hardest of the garden work without feeling the need of such an apparatus. One energetic lady who went into the business of grafting and fruit-raising, with no back at all to speak of, gained not only wealth, but health also, in her orchard. A worthy couple who own a small house and one acre of ground near a vil- lage are successfully engaged in raising vegetables, strawberries, raspberries, cur- rants, grapes, pears, cherries, plums, flow- ers, plants, bees, poultry, and possibly a few more things, for the market, and the proceeds of that one acre are really sur- prising. Everything raised seems to be the very best of its kind. Flowers, fruit, and vegetables are always put up in the most attractive manner, and bring the highest prices. The little farm yields a very good income, but only because it is worked to the best advantage, and upon the principle of doing everything as well as it possibly can be done. Any woman with a garden, either large or small, who is desirous of increasing her income, has only to study its capabilities, and plant it to the best advantage, to find herself in possession of a certain source of revenue. In connection with a garden, it is a com- paratively easy matter to raise bees. They take up little room, generally find and take care of themselves, and have not, like chickens, a morbid appetite for newly planted seeds and summer vegetables. Bee-raising particularly commends itself to ladies, because there is so little work in it; it is like having a colony of small slaves at work for their owner, while she is busy with other things, or enjoying the sweet do-nothingness that follows accom- plished labor. That bees are a great source of profit, abundant experience proves; and as they do not require private acres for exercise and recreation, they may, under favor- able circumstances, even be kept in the city. But they are seldom found there, and in the country it is rare to see them cared for by a lady to any extent. Yet they have been pronounced the best pay- ing investment in live stock that can pos- sibly be made as an incidental business, which is the subject now under consider- ation, as they yield a large return for a very moderate outlay and trifling expense of keeping. That hens are worth keeping, and keep- ing well, there is no manner of doubt; and besides being profitable, they are a con- stant source of interest. In answer, how- ever, to a remark on their nice, funny ways, hazarded to a practical country- man, he said, meditatively, Well, some of their ways is funny, and some aint. He probably saw no particular humor in their wanting chickens when he wanted eggs, nor in their persistent attentions to the tomato patch. He frankly acknow- ledged, though, that he had sold eggs as low as ten cents a dozen and made money on em at that. Turkeys, ducks, and geese are also sure to yield money returns according to the wisdom with which they are managed; and some one writes of the formerz A flock of well-grown turkeys make such an agreeable addition to the receipts of the farm, and they are often raised with so little trouble, that I wonder at the seeming indifference of so many farmers with reference to them. The rules for breeding are simple and easily understood, and failures are due to two prominent causes: one, the weather, which in some seasons puts at fault the utmost possible care; the other, negligence. Many other suggestions might be offer- ed on the subject of money-making for those who are not accustomed to work; but among the various occupations al- ready mentioned, something will surely be found to answer Ysoltes question. AN EDELWEISS OF THE SIERRAS. I. LUCY BOYNTON lived a solitary life in a gray old minster town in Eng- land. She was an orphan, in charge of a venerable maiden aunt, who, like the cel- ebrated Mrs. F. of Hoods ballad, was so very deaf She might have worn a percussion cap, And he hit on the head without hearing it snap. From spring to autumn, from autumn to spring, Lucy sat and sewed, dusted the tea-cups on the mantel-shelf, read a few dull books, and accompanied her aunt to service, whence the morning and evening

116 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. made from a small garden by raising ve- getables, flowers, and fruit, which, if of good quality, will invariably command a ready market; and in spite of Mr. War- ners well-known witticism about the ne- cessity of a cast-iron back with a hinge, in agricultural pursuits, there are many wo- men who do all but the very hardest of the garden work without feeling the need of such an apparatus. One energetic lady who went into the business of grafting and fruit-raising, with no back at all to speak of, gained not only wealth, but health also, in her orchard. A worthy couple who own a small house and one acre of ground near a vil- lage are successfully engaged in raising vegetables, strawberries, raspberries, cur- rants, grapes, pears, cherries, plums, flow- ers, plants, bees, poultry, and possibly a few more things, for the market, and the proceeds of that one acre are really sur- prising. Everything raised seems to be the very best of its kind. Flowers, fruit, and vegetables are always put up in the most attractive manner, and bring the highest prices. The little farm yields a very good income, but only because it is worked to the best advantage, and upon the principle of doing everything as well as it possibly can be done. Any woman with a garden, either large or small, who is desirous of increasing her income, has only to study its capabilities, and plant it to the best advantage, to find herself in possession of a certain source of revenue. In connection with a garden, it is a com- paratively easy matter to raise bees. They take up little room, generally find and take care of themselves, and have not, like chickens, a morbid appetite for newly planted seeds and summer vegetables. Bee-raising particularly commends itself to ladies, because there is so little work in it; it is like having a colony of small slaves at work for their owner, while she is busy with other things, or enjoying the sweet do-nothingness that follows accom- plished labor. That bees are a great source of profit, abundant experience proves; and as they do not require private acres for exercise and recreation, they may, under favor- able circumstances, even be kept in the city. But they are seldom found there, and in the country it is rare to see them cared for by a lady to any extent. Yet they have been pronounced the best pay- ing investment in live stock that can pos- sibly be made as an incidental business, which is the subject now under consider- ation, as they yield a large return for a very moderate outlay and trifling expense of keeping. That hens are worth keeping, and keep- ing well, there is no manner of doubt; and besides being profitable, they are a con- stant source of interest. In answer, how- ever, to a remark on their nice, funny ways, hazarded to a practical country- man, he said, meditatively, Well, some of their ways is funny, and some aint. He probably saw no particular humor in their wanting chickens when he wanted eggs, nor in their persistent attentions to the tomato patch. He frankly acknow- ledged, though, that he had sold eggs as low as ten cents a dozen and made money on em at that. Turkeys, ducks, and geese are also sure to yield money returns according to the wisdom with which they are managed; and some one writes of the formerz A flock of well-grown turkeys make such an agreeable addition to the receipts of the farm, and they are often raised with so little trouble, that I wonder at the seeming indifference of so many farmers with reference to them. The rules for breeding are simple and easily understood, and failures are due to two prominent causes: one, the weather, which in some seasons puts at fault the utmost possible care; the other, negligence. Many other suggestions might be offer- ed on the subject of money-making for those who are not accustomed to work; but among the various occupations al- ready mentioned, something will surely be found to answer Ysoltes question. AN EDELWEISS OF THE SIERRAS. I. LUCY BOYNTON lived a solitary life in a gray old minster town in Eng- land. She was an orphan, in charge of a venerable maiden aunt, who, like the cel- ebrated Mrs. F. of Hoods ballad, was so very deaf She might have worn a percussion cap, And he hit on the head without hearing it snap. From spring to autumn, from autumn to spring, Lucy sat and sewed, dusted the tea-cups on the mantel-shelf, read a few dull books, and accompanied her aunt to service, whence the morning and evening AN EDELWEISS OF THE SIERRAS. 117 chants floated in at the window of their sitting-room close to the cathedral walls. Not so much as the Vicar of Wakefields excitement to migrate from the blue bed to the brown was allotted her; for, ever since she could remember, Lucy had occu- pied the same still white-curtained nest, opening from Miss Boyntons bedroom, where at night she could peep out to su- pervise the removal of a certain glossy, ink-black frontispiece of hair, and the as- sumption of a frilled coif, converting the old ladys strong aquiline profile into a grim silhouette of some warrior of ancient Greece or Rome. Into this colorless existence, when Lucy was about eighteen, there came an influ- ence potent and mysterious, as if a waft of jasmine scent were blown across some meadow nook where homely buttercups are springing in the grass. Miss Boyntons nephew, Tom Boynton, of whom his few scattered kinspeople had heard nothing for several years, arrived from the other side of the Atlantic to look up those of his blood remaining to him in England. He was a handsome, active young fellow, with a jaunty grace of car- riage, and a timbre in his hearty voice, irresistibly compelling a return of cordial- ity, be the recipient ever so guarded in his dignity. Innocent Lucy, herself perhaps not quite up to the standard of dignity at St. Margarets in general, fell in love with him frankly at the outset, while Tom, who began by finding no end of pleasure in telling his travellers tales to this dear lit- tle wide-eyed creature, going white and red alternately with his perils and escapes, ended by picking her up in his arms one day, and vowing he must have her for his wifeher or no woman, present or to come. That rough wooings speed cheer- ily sometimes, witness King Harry the Fifth, or the son of those fierce Vikings out of the dark Northeast, Hereward the Wake. The dewy atmosphere of St. Margarets not having proved favorable to the growth of small feminine coquetries, Lucy, trem- bling a little and blushing a great deal, but strong in trust, plighted him her troth. Unlike the members of his adopted bro- therhood in the New World, Tom Boyn- ton never calculated. He was quite un- prepared for the effect of this news upon poor old Miss Boynton, who received his triumphant announcement with a sort of tearless grief peculiar to age, and most ap- pealing to the stalwart mountaineer. He realized that to take Lucy away from her would be like tearing the ivy from a tottering wall. To remain in England, as his aunt pleadingly suggested, partly dependent upon her slender means, until an opening in business could be found for him, was a thought impossible to enter- tain. Toms heart went out with a mighty yearning toward the wonderful hill coun- try left behind, and the prospect of speedy wealth it held out to a strong, capable fel- low like himself. For a time he was in a pitiful state of ir- resolution. One day in spring, when gold- en laburnums and sweet lilies-of-the-val- ley were coming out in the sunshine of the prim little garden behind the house, Tom strode up and down the walk, con- sumed with restlessness. Catching sight of Lucys brown head at the window of the parlor, where she sat sewing in a frame of ivy leaves, he asked her to put down her seam, and come for a walk with him. They reached a point beyond the town, where Lucy seated herself upon a bank of rich grass with daisies pied, such as only England can produce. Looking down the vista of a bowery lane, they saw the mm- ster tower rise ivy-wreathed against a tran- quil sky, gray chimneys and moss-grown roofs clustering about it, half hidden from sight by venerable trees. A shining riv- er ran through meadows of greenest turf. Everywhere the eye plunged into a mass of unequalled verdure. All was calm, hushed, locked in a deep repose. Here was old England garnering in her cen- turies of well-earned peace. Here, nearer still, was Lucy, her candid eyes fixed trust- fully on his. Just then the sun at setting painted the heavens with a glory unspeakable. It was as if his own Golden Gate had open- ed suddenly before him, and Tom sprang to his feet, the fire of Westward Ho ! thrilling in his veins. Lucy, he cried, crushing her hands in his vigorous grasp dear, darling Lucy, it is an awful thing, but I must go. It is only for a while, never fear; for while grass grows and water runs Ill be true to you, my lass. I am going to work for fortune now as I never did before. God bless your dear little soul, if theres gold to be had, Ill have it. Will you wait for me, Lucy ? 118 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Ill wait, Tom, she answered, simply. There is one thing you have never looked at, my dear, Tom said, after a long talk over their plans. It is just possible that you may be left alone in the world at a time when I cant get away to come for you. I am haunted by the fear. It drives me to proposing what I might not have dared to ask for otherwise. As my sweetheart, Lucy, you could not sail around the globe to come to me; but if you love me well enough to marry me now, before I go, and let me leave you the pro- tection of my name, you can take ship at any time for New York, and from there take another to San Francisco, where I will meet my wife, and carry her off to my den in the mountains, like a great ogre as I am. Think twice, Lucy, before you say yes. It will be a long voyage for you, poor little waif, and a wild life after you get there: onlyGod forget me, Lucy, if I ever cease to love and cherish you as the apple of my eye ! I will do what you say, Torn, Lucy said, like the creature of a dream. Two years passed, and all that Lucy had to remind her of the strange vows she had taken were the little gold wedding ring he had squeezed upon her finger in the shadow of the old minster altar, an- other circlet hammered out of virgin California gold, and imprisoning a great sparkling diamond, sent after Toms ar- rival in San Francisco, and the letters glowing with love and pride that came to her by every mail. Tom was now engi- neer in charoe of a famous new mine up under the snow-peaks of the sierras, work- ing hard and cheerily. Miss Boyntons lit- tle house overfiowedwith Indian, Mexican, and Chinese curiosities, quaint souvenirs of the far Pacific coast, and Lucy might have walked in silk attire had she chosen to assume the marrowy shawls of China crape, like wrinkled skins on scalded milk, and their companion rolls of stuff, that Tom showered upon the two ladies from time to time. Thus Lucys even life ebbed on under the ivy-covered walls that bounded it. When the day came that poor old Miss Boynton entered into everlasting rest, Lucy was bewildered by her sudden free- dom, and the stirring change it entail- ed. She was an Englishwoman, however, which means one capable of arising to any emergency; and when the answer to the letter announcing her aunts death to Tom arrived, it found her quite ready to obey its loving behest, and to set forth alone upon the two long voyages. Tom, who was chained to his post just then, awaited her with open arms. Westward she journeyed bravely through Atlantic storms; then southward to the languid torpor of the tropic seas, and across the Isthmus to the calm Pa- cific. When at length the steamer passed through the Golden Gate into the broad land-locked harbor of San Francisco, Lucys heart beat high with expectation. Enough of her story had become known to her fellow-voyagers to create in them a feeling of active sympathy in the expected reunion with her husband. Something very like a groan at his expense arose from Lucys adherents when among all the motley groups of Californians, native and imported, assembled to greet the ar- rival of the ship, no trace appeared of the recreant Tom. Under the inspiration of Californian air, it is barely possible that Mrs. Boyntons zealous friends might at that point have been led to visit with prompt public rebuke the appearance of the missing man. If the quiver of Lucys lip and her blanching cheek thus affected them, what would have been the result of witnessing the bitter, inconsolable burst of tears with which she shut herself in her state-room till the first disappointment was spent! By the captains advice, and under charge of respectable people, Lucy betook herself to a hotel, pending the arrival of tidings from her husband. It was evident that the letter announcing her coming, a date rendered previously uncertain by the settlement of her small business affairs in England, had miscarried. Her good friend the captain found for her a special opportunity to send a letter on to Tom without delay, and Lucys courage rising with renewed hope, she determined, after a day of rest, to take stage for the station nearest the mining camp, and there await his coming. The captain, who saw to all her arrangements, and put her in the stage, watched her departure with glisten- ing eyes. Lucy leaned out to wave her hand to him, with a smile like an an- gels, the old man afterward declared. During the first part of that long jour- ney by stage, Lucy knew not fatigue, so astonished and excited was she by the AN EDELWEISS OF THE SIERRAS. 119 New-World glories. The early spring had broken up the gentle undulations of field and plain with countless flowering plants, whose fragrant breath perfumed the air. Far as the eye could reach in this won- derfully clarified atmosphere were vine- yard - clad slopes, prosperous ranches, meadows dotted with patriarchal flocks and herds, and watered by crystal rivers. Above hung cliffs crowned with a dark continuous zone of pines, cutting off the flower - enamelled paradise below from the snow-shrouded crests of the sierras Toms mountains, the foolish child called those grand untrodden summits. Lucys insular reserve, her fears, her scru- ples, melted into the gladness of a child butterfly-hunting under a summer sun; her heart clothed itself with love. Something of her early exhilaration, but none of her patient courage, had worn away, when the unwonted fatigue of two days and a night of stage-riding took pos- session of Lucys exhausted frame. A rough woman, her comrade during the greater part of the journey, had, to Lucys unqualified despair, been left at the sta- tion before the terminus. She was alone now with a half-dozen men, who survey- ed her with curious but not irreverent eyes. Jerry, the soft-voiced stage-driver, rein- ed in his six magnificent horses with the same professional calm exhibited fre- quently during the journey in driving them at full gallop along the edge of a precipice. The stage halted before the rude veranda of a desolate two-story building, with a lit- tle colony of out-houses to correspond, over which was proudly inscribed the word Hotel. Lucy, almost unable to walk, was half carried across the thresh- old. The other passengers, travel-soiled as they were, rushed by her like so many cannon-balls into the open doorway of a supper-room, before which a stolid China- man promenaded back and forth ringing a resonant bell. Making his obeisance to Lucy in the smoky, oil-reeking atmosphere of this sit- ting-room, bar, and office combined, stood the proprietor, a hopelessly seedy Don Quixote, with a smack of former gentility in his drawling tones. I am the wife of Mr. Boynton, of the Humboldt Mine, Lucy managed to say, with quiet dignity. I have every reason to hope that my husband will meet me here very shortly, and I must beg you to give me a room at once where I may rest until he comes. Although profuse in civilities upon the discovery that his guest was the colonels lady, as he chose, to Lucys amusement, to style her, Don Quixote looked a trifle blank at the mention of a room. Going off for a moment into the supper-room, he quickly re-appeared with the beaming, an- nouncement, made in the style of a pro- vincial theatre manager, that in order to accommodate Mrs. Colonel Boynton, Jedge Tompkins had kindly consented to double up with General Snyder for the night. Lucy~s strength only sufficed her to as- cend to the rude room prepared for that distinguished citizen Jedge Tompkins, and there to request a cup of tea. This awful beverage was served to her presently by the stolid Chinaman, who took that op- portunity to remove a box of paper collars and a package of toothpicks belonging to the Judge, substituting for them Mrs. Boyntons rugs and dressing-case. Lucy waited to see him depart, bolted her door, spread one rug over the straw bed, and drew another upon herself as she literally dropped into the deep sleep of utter phys- ical fatigue. Toward morning Lucy was aroused by a confused sound from the room below. She sprang up in bed, trying to realize her position. Through the thin boards divid- ing them, she distinctly heard the rattle of dice-boxes, voices in dispute, oaths, a scuffle, a pistol-shot, then anothera riot making hideous the night. Overcome with terror, she tottered to her feet. The candle she had left burning flickered in its socket and went out, leaving her in dark- ness. Lucy groped her way to the win- dow, with an absurd impulse to cry aloud for help. At the very moment, when fan- cying that she could detect the noise of a horses hoofs, a wild prayer for Tom to come for her rose to her lips, more shots were heard below, and something whizzed up past her ear, leaving a trail like fire upon her cheek. Tom Boynton, riding hard through the night over rough mountain-roads to seek his wife, reached the tavern just in timeto find its inmates launched into a fierce but not unusual affray at cards. The land- lord, apt at this stage of the game to be overcome by strong libations, and on the present occasion somewhat unnerved by 120 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. what he called the boys hem rayther on- expectedly lively, directed him to Lucys room. Toms knock and call receiving no response, he burst open the door, to find his wife lying senseless on the floor. Out of her trance of terror Lucy slowly came. She felt the warm clasp of loving arms, a strong heart beating close to hers. A mans tears were rained upon her face, and the slight wound upon her cheek was staff ched with tenderest kisses. II. We may look in upon Lucys new home, after the lapse of a peaceful year or two. It was a veritable mountain eyrie, some- what apart from the mining settlement, a roughly built but comfortable cottage, clinging for dear life to the edge of a bat- tlement of cliffs, nestling under the lock- ed arms of giant pine-trees, where they lay down to rest at night lulled by the music of falling waters, in early spring swelling to the roar of a mighty cataract, as the swollen torrent plunged downward through the caflon at their feet. As for the interior, every stick of furniture had been brought up on pack-mules from the station below, and it was not elaborate; but a few months of Lucys reign sufficed to make of it a very bower of bliss, Tom thought. There were warm red curtains to hang before their casements, old Aunt Boyntons blue tea-cups and brass candle- sticks for the dresser shelves, fair English linen and bright English silver adjusted by deftest English fingers upon their mod- est board. For drapery